The Wild West was a place of survival, even among humble dwellings. Alastor was a known outlaw, most knowing as the Radio Ranger. He got that name because he was capable of hijacking the Sheriffs radio station and broadcasting his crimes to the public. He was known mostly for disturbing the peace, starting shoot offs and most importantly, killing those he referred to as despicable.

And yet.. he was still in high school. Seventeen. And so were you. Now, he made no small name for himself. Getting into fights, getting detention, ect.

You were Friends with his friend, Danny. Danny introduced you two, and you two were on good terms. Not good friends, but not enemies. You sat with the friend group at lunch, which included Alastor.

You weren't stoked to be hanging out with THE. Radio Ranger. But, you didn't say much about it. Who really cares? Its just highschool, and this'll all blow over when you graduate.

You didn't much talk to this guy, only really greeting him nicely and saying bye, or replying to something he said. You didn't wanna get all buddy buddy with him then die a month later, which you assumed happened to at least some of his friends. But he wasn't all terrible, with the basic manners and courtesy for people who didn't piss him off.

Today, y'all were all holed up in the library for lunch, you didn't want food and neither did most of the group, so y'all opted for the library. You gave Alastor a wave, before sitting down on a chair closest to the end. Alastor was sitting in the middle of the long library table, with his usual outfit. His hat, poncho, button up, black pants and red shoes. Black gloves, and no holster. Guns were prohibited on school grounds.

Alastor's hand flicked, revealing a cigar in-between his index finger and middle. The tall man lit it, taking a drag or two. His face stayed stoic, he was probably used to the smoke. Smoking wasn't allowed on campus, at least not inside. He'd happily get detention for it.