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About Hoss:

Family:

Pity the poor man



Name: Rosco James Biggs
Called: Rusty
Gender: Male
Age: 26
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 98 pounds
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Blue
Skin: Caucasian
Temperament: Rusty is sweet and mild, a harsh contrast to his baby. He'll go along with anything.
History: Rusty was born somewhere around Vegas in the united states. His mother was unwed and had no idea who the father of her child was. She ended up getting into several dead end relationships, dragging her child around from state to state. When he was five, his mother found a man who liked her well enough, but didn't like her brat. So, she dropped him off at the home of an aged aunt, with a note attached to his shirt.

His Auntie was an aged matron, never married, and certainly had no idea how to care for a child. She was jaded against men in general anyways, convinced that the boy would only grow to be a womanizer or a f**. She raised the concerns up with her local religious leader, and was shown a way that would assuredly make the boy grow up 'right'.

To say that he was abused would be putting it lightly. From then on, Rusty was taught that it was wrong to want anything, be it something simple as food or sleep. He worked long hours on her farm, slept for few hours a night, and was never allowed anything more extravagant than chicken soup. No pastries, no sweets, not even fruit. He was constantly told that there was something wicked in him, and this life would rid him of it.

Once he was a young teen, his Aunt introduced him to 'blooding', which was her term for slicing open his arms and legs and chest in the guise of 'bleeding the evil out'. She always instructed him to never show anyone any skin other than his hands, face, and neck, because it would obviously upset them to know how wicked he was.

However, the worst bit of luck for Rusty came when he was sixteen. That was when his auntie found him talking to a girl. Obviously, this showed that none of her attempts had succeeded, and the boy was going to grow into a horrible womanizer. She locked the boy in a closet, told everyone that he ran away, and for the next two years continued to starve, beat, and brainwash the boy into harming himself.

However, her wickedness caught up with her. When she was hauling Rusty to the bathroom after one particularly violent beating, the boy snapped and pushed her. She lost her balance and fell down the stairs, breaking her neck. Rusty went right back to what he'd been taught, locking himself in a closet full of nails. Her body and Rusty were both found within a week, and the boy was taken away to a hospital to receive treatment. While it appeared that they had broken him of his ways, once Rusty was released, he went back to what he'd been taught. He eats only the barest essentials, sleeps few hours, works far too hard, and harms himself when he feels like he's been particularly bad.



Annie: An infant Jivvin. She might look like a pet, but Rusty things she's part of the family, on account of the fact that she can talk. She's a funny little thing, brave as can be, and will undoubtedly save Rusty from the horrible son that fate has set upon him.

Pets:

They live on a farm. Cattle, sheep, pigs, chickens, horses. Lots of pets.

Photos:

Everyone has a beginning, even her...

Frederick paced outside the delivery room, pinching the bridge of his thin nose. They'd shooed him out when Tabitha had started bleeding badlly. And he was worried. Terribly worried.

Tabitha would be very hard to replace if she died, after all. He'd just recently managed to break her of her idiotic ideals. Psh, like a female should have free will or dreams. Tabitha was of good breeding and pretty, and once he'd beaten the fire out of her, she was a good little woman.

A doctor came through the doors, his once pristine garb caked in blood. "Both are alive." He told Fredrick tersely. "She lost a lot of blood, some internal damages-

"Is our son fine?" Fredrick broke in. Damn the woman, now he was worried for the boy.

The doctor looked at him for a moment, taking his measure. And then he smiled. "Your daughter is perfectly all right."

---

A daughter. A female. A worthless, weak creature unfit to lead his family line. Fredrick made mental notes to have the DNA technicions that had worked his case killed. Give him a girl child, would they!

He stormed into Tabitha's sickroom. The woman looked away at his entrance in shame, starting to apologize. "Shut up." He ordered, and she did so. "For once, this isn't your fault. Masters and Cline... I'll have them both hanging from the gallows by the end of the week!"

Well, it was done. His son, his future was but a dream for now. It was time to survey the damage. He walked to the infant, noting how Tabitha jerked. Did she think that he would kill the girl? Not likely. What was done was done. The child was his, and it was his duty to protect her from now on.

A satisfied smile came over his face as he looked down. The child had taken his black hair instead of her mother's brown. He could see his features in her. It was a cruel trick that had been played by Masters and Cline: giving him everything he asked for but the gender!

"She'll be named Jasper. After my mother." Frederick told Tabitha, who took it meekly. "Once you've healed, I'll have my son."

Yet years passed, and the son did not appear. Every pregnancy after her difficult first ended in miscarriage. The woman knew that her time was short as his bride.

And oddly, Fredrick couldn't help but watch his girl child with pride. She was nothing like her mother. The more he yelled and scolded, the more she learned. Oh, she'd smile pretty for him, all right. Tell him that she was sorry for her weak ways. But he knew the second he turned around that the eyes lost that cute little look they had.

She learned more than he'd admit that she'd picked up. The girl had a head for business and for using people. If she'd been his son, she would've been perfect.

He needed a male heir. So he found a little woman on the streets who knew her place and would happily hold a child for him for a promise of a home and a safe place. And he had his son. But now he had to figure out how to get rid of Tabitha and Jasper.

The girl knew his plan as soon as he did. As soon as he'd made the arraignments, she walked in his office. Didn't knock, just barged in.

"You are gonna sell me. Throw Mother in as extra. Tell the neighbors you married me off." Her voice had none of the usual honey. She spoke with pure venom, eyes glaring. For a moment Fredrick was surprised at how much hate those eyes had in them. He hadn't seen eyes like that since he looked last in the mirror.

"Yes." He answered, because he was a man who believed in rewarding good work. She knew the path he'd take at such a young age. He was proud.

Jasper looked with narrowed eyes at the street-woman that her Daddy had brought in. The icy look faded, and the girl smiled with all the honey and manners she'd been taught.

"Do not think you're safe. Father can not take you anywhere. You do not have class." Jasper smiled, looking at her little half brother. "You will wind up in the river as soon as he has been weaned." She smiled at them both and left. She knew her face was sealed just as much as the whore's

Fredrick spent much time reassuring the whore, who's name he's never taken the time to learn. Of course wouldn't hurt her. He'd teach her how to behave, how to act. She smiled after a bit, those large brown eyes stupid and trusting.

It was a damn shame that Jasper had been born a female. She knew how to use people, and would've been a marvelous heir. If only Tabitha had given him a son, he could've kept her around and married her off for real. She could have been a useful ally.

She had told him the best way to dispose of the whore, after all. Fredrick smiled as the b***h screamed for a split second before the water covered her head. She'd go to her grave with that stupid expression on her face. Jasper had at least had the dignity to go to her fate with a calm look on hers.

Damn shame she was a female.

This town is mine now....

"Here you are, Miss F'Taas." The coachman said, reaching up a hand to help her down. She ignored the hand and emerged from the carriage herself, looking out on the dark land that lay before her. So dull. So dreary. So wonderful for a new start.

Call her sentimental, but after her dear friend Taryn had finally passed on she hadn't been able to stay at their town. Oh, Taryn. Consumed by some disease that ate him from the inside out. His eyes had begged for her to end his suffering at the end, but his lips never said the words. And Taryn was the one person that she could never murder. It was why he hadn't asked. At the end he'd kissed her hand one last time and nodded off. Jasper had made sure that he got a grave, though the town Doctor had been mighty interested in getting his corpse.

They'd been partners for years. They learned the ropes together, opened up a successful brothel and ran it as partners. Taryn had been her one friend for years, the only man that she knew would never have any interest in her, bless his soul. And even if it put money in her pocket, she wouldn't sell him. She'd made sure they poured stones into the grave after him, and she'd personally sat up nights in the graveyard until decomposition would've worn his body too badly to use. No one was going to take Taryn from his rest.

She'd sold their practice and most of the servants to a younger fellow, only keeping those girls and boys that had proved their worth to her. Jasper was a woman who understood and rewarded good work and loyalty. She wasn't gonna trust no one with her favorites.

She did horrible things, but she did have her own sort of honor.

Jasper let the hired help move her things up into her new home. She'd set things up and then send for the girls and boys. There was no doubt that they'd come. She treated them fairly. It wasn't like they could do much else in the world they lived in.

While she settled in her house the local preacher man came up to speak with her. She used her usual charm, still drawing on the lessons she'd learned as a child, to deal with him. She assured him that she wasn't gonna start no trouble in his town, that she was just as afraid of God's wrath as he was, and that she was simply wanted a new start in this town. He left convinced, and Jasper went back to her setting up.

Her workers came when she sent for them, as she knew they would. Five girls, and four young men, all who were loyal and did their job well. They came and helped her finish setting up and had brought listings for servants that Jasper could purchase. Life in the city bothered many people, and they'd gladly sell themselves as servants to leave it behind for the fresher and freer air of the country. Jasper thought over many of them and finally made the correct calls, purchasing more servants.

It was, as much of the other things she did, illegal. To take away someone's freedom by purchasing them was slavery, after all. But you could get away with such things easier in the border towns.

Oh, the preacher man did have a fit when he learned what she was doing. Got the local law to come speak with her. But they were easily shown the value of her services, escorted into a room full of women who were trained enough to do their jobs with enthusiasm. The ones that couldn't be bribed with flesh were bribed with money, and soon Jasper didn't have any problems with the law.

She did have problems, however, with the new girls. Not many, most were easily broken and shown the ways of their trade. But one girl, Farrah, thought she was better than what she was. She screamed and fought, and one day ran off.

No one ever ran away from Jasper F'Taas.

They hunted the little b***h down and dragged her back to the brothel. She got her boys to tie her up outside in the courtyard gagged. No one would hear her screams or come back there to see. And she left her like that for a few days, until she was nearly dead. Picking up a lacy umbrella and a glass of champagne, she moved out to stare down at the girl.

"I can't breathe..."

"Sugar, y'should've thought about that before you decided to not do your job." Jasper smiled, looking down at the girl who still struggled against her bonds in the hot sun. An umbrella shaded Jasper's own head from the intense heat. She smiled, taking a sip of her champagne, walking around the girl. "Now... Farrah Darlin', I ain't a hard woman t'work with. I bought you, fair and square, honey. What use are you if you won't do your job?"

"I'll..." The girl sobbed, but there wasn't the moisture left in her body to actually cry. "I'll do it. Please, let me up!"

"No." Jasper leaned down, coming within an inch of her face. The woman had such a cold gaze. "Honey, you done soiled' my reputation. If I let it get out that I just let you stay with me, after such a disrepectin', won't nobody respect me no more. What's worse, all those girlies up there-" She stood and turned, looking up at the windows of the dozens of girls watching through the windows of the house, "why, they'll be gettin' little ideas in their heads that they can try and have morals. Honey, they're whores, and you were gonna be one till you decided not to spread your pretty little legs."

Jasper sighed, taking another sip of her champagne. Good year. Tasted ever so delicious, but not nearly as good as knowing that this little show would keep the rest of those twits firmly under the heel of her boot.

"Now, far as I see it, honey, we got a few actions we can take. Sure I can make some of the money I spent on your carcass back by selling you to the meat man. Sure he wouldn't mind some fresh meat. Always savages looking for a new b***h t'screw t'death. And I know that Lil' Ol' Doc Martins would love to get his hands on your cadaver. You're just his type, honey. So young and pretty, betcha still a virgin. Paid extra for it."

By now, Farrah was trying to sob again, looking so exhausted and terrified. Jasper smiled. She loved this. She loved it almost as much as the money she made. Showing these lesser people their place, keeping them there... It made her feel so alive.

"But, I know what I'm gonna do." Jasper smiled, and walked away.

"Please... Please! Mercy!" Farrah screamed after her. Jasper laughed, grabbing a canister from inside the house before returning to the girl.

"Now, honey. Don't do that. I just wanna help you, that's all. I don't like to see girls hurt. Now, I bet you're real regretful. If I let you up, you'd get right in there and do your job, wouldn't you, honey?"

"Yes, yes!" Farrah sobbed. Jasper leaned down and stroked her cheek, smiling. She placed a gentle kiss on the girl's brow.

"Honey, all you're worth is an example to me now. She stood up, dumping the canister's wet contents on the girl.

With a look of utmost concern on her face, Jasper touched two fingers to her bottom lip. "Sugar, you look cold. Let me warm you up." Farrah screamed as she recognized the smell of the liquid. Smiling in that wonderful belle way she had, Jasper lit the match and dropped it on the girl. Farrah screamed as her body ignited, and Jasper stood back to admire her handiwork, looking back up at her home. Thirty girls all stared, Farrah's screaming and flaming body reflecting in each pretty pair of eyes.

She moved so that all the girls were watching her. There was no doubt, by the look on her face, that Jasper would do that to them. She smiled at them and waved them off before turning to watch the flames again. She giggled, a laugh reminiscent of the old days, and sipped her champagne. Ah, good drink and a warm fire. What else could a woman want?

She started back up towards home, glass in one hand, umbrella in the other. She was ever so glad she'd learned just how to squeeze the utmost use out of a pound of flesh.