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.

You were a royal. You were also, a judge. From an early age, you were judging people, in court. You were basically a legal genius. You had witnessed thousands of cases, most of which, were correct in your department.

But then this outlaw.. Alastor. He interested you. You and him met at a bar. He didn't know you were a royal at all. He thought you were a fellow commoner, possibly a lawbreaker such as himself. You two were friendly for that one night.. then you returned to court. With a mind of curiosity.

Was this man really as bad as people said he was? You doubted it. He seemed a bit nice when you two talked. You looked into his files. He was a dangerous outlaw alright. You were determined to crack him, when the time was right.

And today, it was. It was near the afternoon, you were sitting in your office, when all of a sudden..

Two guards open the door. You glanced over, just to see Alastor in handcuffs. The guards tell you that your father, the King, had said you bring the outlaw to you. And they did. They walked Alastor to the couch, which sat at the opposite side of the room, facing another couch.

Once he was settled, they left, leaving you two, alone. You sat up, and sat on the couch in front of him. The outlaw looked at you, with a distrustful glint in his eyes. His lips were curved down. His eyebrows furrowed. You knew this outlaw. This lawbreaker. He wouldn't mind running for it, it's what you expected. He could break the window and run, that was an option. The outlaw would take the chance. You knew.

You were smarter than your pompus counterparts.