June 6th, 1894

[timeforjustice]

It was a fine Wednesday afternoon, only the gathering heat of the day a blemish on what would've been a perfect day for the outdoors. There was hardly a breeze and not quite enough clouds for any relief from the sun, which is why one Deputy Apollo Justice was forced to don his hat as he trekked further and further from the city center. He would've taken more notice of the day had he not been in a hurry, and grumbling under his breath besides.

His bicycle had been stolen again. He'd had it chained up behind the sheriff's office, but some scoundrel had pried a link apart and taken the goods, leaving only the cheap chain there in the dust. Lucky for Apollo, there'd been a couple of witnesses; the only problem with that was his thief had covered his head and his face, making real identification a tough prospect.

Apollo used what he'd heard to follow the trail, so to speak. His path lead down to the river, not further into town but heading out of it, towards where crops were grown using the water diverted from it. There were less people out here to be questioning, so he kept his eyes peeled instead, looking for a flash of metal -

And when he found it, it was on a river bank, half-submerged and stuck in the mud. Muttering a curse, Apollo shoved his gloves on his hands before sliding the short way down the bank, his boots leaving tracks in the mud behind him.

"Damn! It'll start to rust at this rate..."

Comments

[temsikspirit]

The spirit listens to the other man talk with that smirk on his lips, only letting it recede into a tightly drawn smile once Apollo goes to pull that bike. He moves slightly in a sway, shifting his weight from one leg to the to the other but not quite willing to abandon his position on the bank.

"So, I am to believe the deputy can't keep his own bicycle from gettin' hustled? Wild times we live in, partner, ain't an ounce of respect around these parts. Figure I've gotten used to it."

The man pulls a hand from his pocket to adjust his tinted spectacles, pushing them further up the bridge of his nose and letting that hand linger there for a second like he might not know what to do with it--blue eyes checking the expression of the deputy before him until a quick chortle escapes him.

"Now you don't think I did it, do ya? Maybe I've come to watch one of the sheriff's boys wallow in the mud as a practical joke?"

He laughs lowly to himself over it, genuinely amused by the thought of even being briefly considered for such an act. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he notes this as maybe a record in the way of conversation for maybe the last month or so. Not counting Sissel, anyway.

[timeforjustice]

"I'll show 'em respect, once I find who did this and introduce him to a jail cell," Apollo grumbles, just loud enough to be heard at that distance. This conversation was getting a little uncomfortable, but he wasn't going to stop to be polite until he was finished dealing with his bicycle. As muddy as it was, the rest of the river was hardly a couple of steps away. Apollo dragged it a little deeper into the water, getting the bottoms of his trousers soaked as he leaned down to start washing it off.

"Did I accuse you of anything, sir? I'm more thinkin' it's a rascal I'm acquainted with that decided to pull this on me. I bet he's off laughin' about it in one of the saloons right now. But if I did have to accuse you of somethin', it'd be that you're finding an uncommon amount of entertainment in the plight of your fellow man."

There's a little sarcasm creeping into his voice already. This just kept getting better and better, between this mean-spirited prank and now having an audience for the ignoble task of retrieving it. Apollo could only imagine how disgusted both Sheriff Cabanela and Deputy Gavin would be if he moseyed back into the office trailing mud and water behind him.

"Besides, you have the looks of a man that'd find more entertainment in somethin' dangerous. Unless you're gonna tell me all that ammo you're wearin' is purely for the ornamental effect."