Introduction
Boone Duning
An Witch [
"I've heard men lie for long enough now that their lies only leave me with one question left. Why?"
Appearance
Notable Features
A strong Jaw which he keeps clean shaven each day, and long hair which is well cared for though often hands over his shoulders untied. A scar is visible on his right cheek and in lighter clothing it is clear he sports some tattoos though they are most often covered by regular wear. He can often be seen with an intense stair, though his smile easily counters by being genuine and warm.Personal Style
Boone learned his cut from his father, but his style from his mother they used to say. Shirts, waistcoats, long coats, trousers and neckties all not that dissimilar from what his father would wear like most men in the frontier. Even still wears a hat he was handed down years ago. But he often takes with him a Poncho hand crafted by his mother's people, wears adornments in his hair and around his neck that are clearly native to any onlookers, and amongst his clothes he has made fixes and adjustments to include some beadwork patterns or embroidery though his skill in this endeavours are ore of an amateur charm than what most would consider perfected art and craft.Circumstances
Currently
Living in a small apartment on the western edge of Chinatown, Boone is without family in Never. A quiet, stoic and intense man he only really gets known for two reasons amongst locals. Those who have been in town long known him for his hard working, reliable nature and overall competence. Sure he used to make the majority of his pay on horseback, picking up hired work amongst the nearby ranches, stables and anyone else who needed a skilled rider and animal handler. Over the years he even made himself known as generous with his time and labour, though some might not think to assume it he had as much of an upcoming in Catholic faith as he did in the other branches of his people’s polytheistic faith and as such knows all too well the teachings about helping one’s neighbour through the context of two cultures.As for those newer in town though there's a very different manner in which he’s known, as the sheriff’s full time deputy. For years now he's worn the badge, his knowledge for tracking paired with an “unnaturally reliable gut” has allowed him to help in more cases than most would thank him for especially if it’s their keen he tracks it to. Drunkards, Outlaws and wannabe bandits would love to see Boone ran out of town, but for as much as a deputy’s badge doesn’t pay a fortune in coin it does pay in something more. Reminders every day of the good people in that town who need someone looking out for them, and Boone knows he can do it, he knows he wants to do it, he just holds no interest in the politics of making himself a face in the community when forming part of it’s backbone feels far more his speed.
Health & Capabilities
It was said once by a man Boone wrangled wild horses with that he must be one of the healthiest boys in town, and while he has no interest in judging if it’s true, he must be amongst them. Raised amongst his mother’s tribe from birth he knows well how to handle himself in the wild, and adulthood taught him how to care for himself in European towns, meaning by today he knows how to maintain his physical health wherever he finds himself. Strong and athletic but for practicality over aesthetics, he knows how to feed himself a diet that best supports his needs and he knows medicine and techniques to keep himself in god daily standing. But a cool head and travelled experience means he knows who to ask when ailments or injuries go beyond his own treatment. He’s well washed most days, even if it means riding to the nearest body of water to do so rather than pay for a hot bath in town, and while Boone drinks he has no desire to drown himself in it to the point of it ailing his physical body.As for his mental health he is intense, and beyond what others may see he has reason to be. He may not be depressed or suffering from recent grief, but he has stress on his mind that is hard to share. The voice of the dead wind, the ticking of his pocket watch, and the voice of the man who showed him America all are just the parts of his daily life which he can’t talk about. Then there are the parts he just won’t talk about. There’s nothing weighing on his soul which is horrifying or terrible to the point of his mind being an echo chamber of trauma, but sometimes a man can spend so much time within his own thoughts, he forgets how much lighter the world feels when you listen to the laughter rather than the words.
Socioeconomics
Boone was never born poor, not in any way in which he could have understood. Everything he needed he had, anything else he wanted was personal, not out of need just want like any human being. He didn’t understand what it meant to be poor till he left home, and while he’s never been a beggar by the road he knows that in many ways he has less now no matter how much or little is actually in his possession. He pays for a room over a small store in Chinatown, and he owns clothes beyond a single set and he owns his own horse. His own set of guns too. But doesn’t own his own building, he doesn't pay for meals to be cooked for him and he sure as hell can’t afford to give up manual work. But what little money he earns he makes go far, because he learned young his priorities and everything beyond that he’s good at knowing when to say no. Or at the very least, not now.Skills & Talents
-Horse riding, cattle herding and animal wrangling-Camping, swimming and running
-First aid, hunting and butchering.
-Amateur sewing, embroidery, beadwork and whittling
-Insight into other's words and actions
Present Relationships
-Aaron Baylis (Boss)-Solomon Van Rijs (Colleague)
Identity
Hobbies
Boone has his hobbies, he has what gives him peace, he just knows he ain’t like some folk who’s hobbies could be a profession some day. He still remembers well when his mother and others from his childhood would sit and sew the beads onto their clothing, would weave and carve wood. Boone takes these crafts with him wherever he goes, just each one a hell of a lot worse than they did. He sews onto his clothing, taking whatever he has and making it his own. He might not weave but he loves to see what others have. And he might not carve wood in a way that most would revere as art, but he’s gotten rather keen with his whittling knife, making some things that might make a child happy should he have one someday.Background
History
The law don’t look kindly on the joining in wedlock between people from different people, but love don’t have those laws. Boone got his name from his father, A dunning born to America but of English stock mostly. His looks though came from his mother, she may not have been his wife but she was his love once he lost his wife. It was his mother’s wish that he was raised amongst the Tewa, and it was a wish his father didn’t deny her. Amongst her people he went through the stages of childhood in their way, and due to the nature of their people’s faith there was room for both Christian ways and the many aspects of the tribe’s original spiritual faith. This meant in his tenth year he was taught with other boys their role in the tribe, he attended his first communion, and as fate would have it he would learn their land was no longer Mexican, but American.He would have been a young man, probably around seventeen when some folks came asking about him, by then trade and travellers had justified for Boone to learn English beyond just a knowledge it was his father’s tongue. There were three men, and much to his mother’s surprise they were faces she recognised. Old friends of Duning’s, close friends, one was as close as brothers. Their story said that Boone’s father died in the War, though it wouldn’t be till years later they shared any details. Said that Lieutenant Dunings told them about her often, and wouldn’t stop wondering what came of his son, whether he even still lived. Loyalty and love brought them to visit, and her people granted them permission to stay, but when they knew their time had come to leave Boone was determined. Call it the need for a father, or a desire to explore that grips many young boys, but whatever it was Boone knew he wanted to go with them even if it meant he may not see his mother and people again.
Boone already knew how to ride, how to track, how to hunt, but there was knowing and there was doing. What those three men learned quickly was that Boone not only knew what to do, but he knew more at times when men had seemingly no chance of knowing. Good luck, keen instincts, the lord’s guidance, they had many ideas but Boone only ever explained it as a talent from his mother. A talent, that opened door for more unique guidance from one of the men in particular. Logan Wyatt, his father’s closest friend and everything but a blood brother wasn’t just a soldier and now a Pinkerton, but he was a witch in his own way. Passed down from his own blood all the way since his mother’s Austrian roots was a pocket watch that never left his side. He said it gave him perspective on the lies of men, and as the group travelled together, worked together, they shared a bond not just of mentor and student, but like that of an Uncle and Nephew.
Years passed, and men die, but by the time sickness took Wyatt’s body his soul was already satisfied with the young man he left in his wake. Boone rode into Never one day with nothing but what he could carry on his saddle, and what he would tell people was a message carried on the dead wind. A feeling, like he had somewhere to be, and that feeling took him closer to home than he had been for a while. He must have been around 26 then, still young and without much idea what he would do for the rest of his life. But he found work, whether or not people liked how quiet he was or the odd things he’d say and do, they trusted him to be competent and to pull his weight and sometimes that’s what’s most important. For the last Sheriff in town, he began to trust Boone’s instincts and judgements in a way where others had simply seen luck. For that he would often call upon the young man to serve as deputy when the time called for it, but that kind of work didn’t pay enough to keep a home, so Boone kept himself fed with work as a cowboy helping local ranchers and farmers herd cattle and move horses. But then came the new Sheriff, and Boone found a second man who trusted there was more to his words than just some strange paranoia mixed with good fortune. Even if he didn’t always believe the explanations Boone gave for his reasoning and judgements, he trusted him enough to ensure that Boone was hired and paid appropriately to become his full time deputy
Powers & Magic
Powers Use
The Dead Wind: The Dead Wind is what his mother called it, loosely translated that is. Call it a sixth sense, call it good luck, call it premonition, whatever passed down in his mother’s bloodline now not only keeps Boone alive but allows him to do and know things that just shouldn’t be natural. It’s like a voice in the air, not one he can hear the words of but one he knows the meaning. Most days it’s subtle, a hesitation before doing something with consequences he couldn’t know, but never anything big or important. But his mother taught him how to wake it up, a way to craft herbs and conduct ceremonies at Dawn or Dusk. Then the wind is louder, he’ll know what path to take to avoid the ambush ahead, he’ll know what water to avoid cause of dead animals up river, and he’ll know which man to shoot first in a firefight to make sure as few people on his side die by the end.The silver Watch: Boone doesn’t know who put the magic on the watch he was given by Wyatt, nor does he know how old it really is, all he knows is what it tells him. Silence is its norm, like it was dead long ago, but he can hear it tick when in the presence of lies being told. Whether his own, or those of others. And sometimes, when he holds it close and listens to the silence, he hears the words of wyatt just like wyatt used to say he could hear the words of his mother. Guidance, warnings, and sometimes just memories. But whatever is said he knows two things. They never lie, and they haven’t had poor judgement yet.
Healing & Harm: Mos of the magics known to Boone aren’t unique, they aren’t bound to his bloodline, they were the teachings and abilities of generations beyond him and his kin. They are brought forth in the herbs and ceremonies of his people and faiths, they are ancient and uplifting but simple in purpose. Boone knows how to purify wounds and clear the soul, he knows how to revitalise lungs and hurry the knitting of wounds. He might not be a master of it, but he knows how to keep himself alive. And he hopes those he comes to care about too.
