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yastaghr · 5 years ago

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Nightmare’s Gang of Wranglers 1: Setup

Brand new story here! I’m not too sure of the summary yet, so that might change. Here it is!

Summary: The Star Sanses and the Bad Sanses become closer. Set in a Wranglers (Cowboy) AU. Please help me summary.

Relationships: KillerCreamMare, Dustberry, Horrorcest, Errorink

Characters: Killer Sans, Cross Sans, Dream Sans, Nightmare Sans, Dust Sans, Underswap Sans, Horror Sans, Horror Papyrus, Farmer Sans, Error Sans, Ink Sans

Warnings by Chapter: None

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341953/chapters/58695778

Not many outfitters can be described as ruthless, but that was the perfect word for Nightmare’s boys. His gang of wranglers had driven other companies out of business and seen farms go under in a blaze of light. They owned this mountain range. In most cases, quite literally. More than 100,000 acres in this range belonged to one or another of the gang. The rest was national park or national forest land, and therefore free range, at least with the proper permits. They had them. Whether or not they had earned them was up for debate.

With such a huge land tract available you would think there would be dozens or even hundreds of groups that roamed them. Nightmare’s gang was the only one. Occasionally a private group would venture into their territory. Never more than once. They simply didn’t allow that. Since there was only one you might reasonably assume there were a gaggle of horses. That would be wrong. This group ran less than 20 in a single train, and that included the pack mules. There were a further dozen on reserve, resting and growing strong on a rich, vast pasture. The skeleton simply known as Farmer made sure of it.

Today they were loading up the trailers for another pack trip. This one would be gone for two weeks. The gang rarely took trips this long, but the client had money and right now they were a bit… cash strapped. Nightmare had promised the Horror brothers that they would never go hungry again, and he kept his word.

That meant sometimes taking on clients that weren’t his usual handpicked bunch. Nightmare could be one of the most selective outfitters in the region. He couldn’t stand dealing with city folks who had never seen, let alone been on, a horse. No, his requirements were stringent. Unfortunately even that had earned him enough of a reputation to attract his worst fear. This client couldn’t have come at a worse time. Nightmare needed the cash to feed his boys. He couldn’t afford to be selective right now. But why did it have to be him?

Nightmare surveyed the parking lot. It was 5 am and his boys were loading up the trailers for the long haul to the trailhead. Old Classic, the trailer Nightmare had been running for ages, was being loaded up with the first five horses. Nightmare had already personally loaded up his bay pony, Razz. The gelding wasn’t his first choice, but Grape and Wine had finally grown too old for these trips. They were enjoying a well-earned retirement on the ranch, so Razz it was, despite his tendency to rush headlong into areas of uneven footing. He always seemed to come out alright, but Nightmare was an old horseman. He knew that every horse was an accident waiting to happen. He just hoped it wouldn’t be this time.

Killer’s little hellbeast was already loaded up, too. Nightmare couldn’t see what his right hand skeleton saw in the 1/2 thoroughbred bay gelding. Slim was an absolute nightmare to ride, heh heh. He required constant attention or else he would try to run a race. Nevermind that he wasn’t on the racetrack anymore. He always wanted to race. But Killer managed him effortlessly, so all Nightmare could do about him was complain.

Cross was just tying off the next two geldings. Honey, a dun gelding, was his personal horse. He was the tallest horse in the bunch at 17.3 hands. Conversely, Berry, an appaloosa, was the shortest pony at 12.3 hands. He was a guest pony, the one they usually saddled child or elderly monsters on. He was steady as a rock.

The final horse waiting to load up on Old Classic was Ghost, Dust’s grey mare. She was a sweetheart who Nightmare really should have retired already. But he’d yet to find another horse that could put up with Dust’s constant talking to his… brother… so for now Ghost had to stay.

Error, Nightmare’s newest hire, was loading up the last three true horses onto Big Red. His own black mare, Shadow, was nearly matched in colour by Classy, the second guest horse. Shadow spooked at everything. Gates, leaves, other horses, her own footsteps; everything, that is, except Error’s constant glitches, which was why she was still around. Classy was a real lady, dainty in her footing and wily as a fox. She’d sneak treats off of any bleeding heart she could. Nightmare liked to use her as a test. If the guest could manage her then they could come back. Rustle was the final horse on the trip, a pretty paint horse that was easy going and gentle as could be.

Blood and Sugar, the Horror brothers, were loading up their two mules. Pumpkin was a chestnut mare, bulky and imposing until you got to know her. Yes she could weather a hurricane and come out the other side fine, but she loved to snuggle and be groomed. Shanks, on the other hand, was a blood bay gelding that only a monster like Sugar could love. He bit, he kicked, and he was an absolute bear to the other horses. Except for Pumpkin, that is. Those two were just as much in love as their owners, Nightmare was sure. It was a little sickening how sweet that set could be, but that wasn’t exactly a problem, now, was it?

The final trailer held the pack mules and all their gear. Crown and Regal were a matched set of palominos who Nightmare had… inherited… from another outfitter. He didn’t know the stories behind their names. They certainly didn’t seem to fit the playful attitude of those two mules.

Much like Boss, when Nightmare wanted everyone’s attention, he had it. His boys paused in what they were doing and looked at him. He sighed and pulled out his lucky bandanna, a teal paisley print that he’d found after the apple incident, and wiped his neck with it.

“Well, boys, here we are again. You know the mission as well as I do. Keep the whole pack trip from going to shit. Whether or not the client enjoys it is the name of the game. We’ve done this a million times, but this time’s gonna be different. This isn’t a set of our usual clients. These are city slickers. I know you hate it as much as I do, but we didn’t really have a choice. I’m not about to let my boys go hungry. So I had to take them on,” Nightmare huffed, “Now for the part you didn’t already know. There’s just three of them coming with us. I don’t know about two of them, and the third… heh. You’ve heard about the third from me enough times. It’s my twin, Dream.”

That little bombshell had about the reaction he was expecting. Cross looked grim, like he had found out about his brother’s death all over again. Killer’s smile grew and his hand reached for his knife. Dust snarled, his eyes flicking to where he thought his “brother” probably was. Blood and Sugar stepped closer together, and Blood reached for his pack (which Nightmare knew held his butcher knife). Error just seemed confused. He hadn’t had the pleasure of hearing about Nightmare’s past yet.

“wasn’t there anyone else you could have gotten? even reaper’s family would have been better than this, and he makes us bring so much coffee!” Blood complained.

Nightmare shut him up with a look. “Do you really think I would have made this choice if there were any other options? It was this or sell off land, and that would have taken way too long. It had to be this,” He looked around at everyone, meeting their eye sockets with his singular one. “Now, I’m going to ask you to do your best job to not scare him. We need to put up with his group for two weeks. It’d be better for us if he didn’t want to turn back around halfway through. Besides, then he’d want a refund, and I already spent the money, so you’d better earn it. Is that understood?”

Everyone saluted with varying styles and degrees of formality. Nightmare grins. He loves it when they do that. It makes him feel like a prince rather than just a wrangler.

“Okay then. Carry on.”

And just like that, everyone went back to working like the smooth operation they were.

Dream’s hands gripped the steering wheel of his trusty old Jeep so tight that, if he’d been a human, his knuckles would have been white. As it was, the joints protested. They were used to typing away at a computer all day, not commanding a car through miles and miles of unpaved roads. They really wanted to just go home, but Dream wasn’t about to do that. No, he had committed to this and he was going to see it through. Besides, his friends were so looking forward to this trip. It would hurt to disappoint them.

Speaking of his friends, Dream quickly checked up on them. Ink was sitting in the passenger seat, chattering away about something or other. The artist was such a chatterbox. It was ridiculous. Frequently Dream found himself wanting to gag Ink with his own scarf. He never did, though. Maybe it was because Ink was his oldest friend, the first person who had taken a chance on him when he moved to the city. Maybe it was the fear that even that wouldn’t shut Ink up. Instead, Dream periodically had to just… take a break from his talkative friend. Ink was very forgiving. Or, more accurately, he was very forgetful. Dream was pretty sure that was why they were still friends. Dream was willing to put up with all his faults.

He had his good points, too. Ink was the definition of creative. He was always seeing the world in a unique light, and hanging around him made Dream constantly have to stretch and grow his mind and comfort zone. You never knew what Ink would come up with next, and it was always fun to follow him into trouble. Also, Ink always knew all the gossip, and didn’t mind sharing it with Dream at length.

His other best friend, Blue, was sitting in the back seat next to all their gear. Blue was small, maybe 4’ tall at the most. He was always full of energy, although sometimes it could only be described as nervous energy. His cheerful attitude permeated everything around him and reminded Dream of his own little goal: to spread positive energy wherever he went. With Blue around to help, that was easy. Dream just wished he could bring his friend more happiness of his own. Given the state of Blue’s home life, it was no surprise that he was always wanting to hang out with the two other “Star Sanses”. Dream tried to think of every excuse he could to take him out and about with them.

Dream wasn’t quite sure what had prompted him to schedule this little trip. Yes, Blue was getting close to his breaking point. Yes, Ink was getting restless in between commissions. And, yes, Dream was yearning to see something other than the city for once. But all those things happened on a regular basis, and this was not how he usually dealt with them.

Maybe it was those dreams (heh) he’d been having. Every night for weeks now Dream had dreamt of being on a horse, riding through the woods like he had when he was a child. His friends had been around him, and Dream was filled with this sense of peace and rightness. He couldn’t help but want to fulfill it.

And then Reaper had mentioned to Dream about the wrangler group he and his family went out with. Every word had had Dream more and more intrigued. He honestly couldn’t think of a single thing they were doing that he wouldn’t have done… at least when it came to their horses. He had no idea that the world of wrangling was so cutthroat. And then Reaper had dropped the bombshell like it was nothing. Nightmare was… okay? He had friends? More than that, he had horses and his own business? That was an absolute shock, so much so that Reaper had needed to splash Dream with a cup of cold water in order to break him out of it. Maybe he took a little too much pride in doing so, but Dream could hardly blame him. Every little bit of happiness he could spread made Dream feel that much better. Even if it was at his own expense.

Now Dream was driving through the countryside on his way to find out if what Reaper had said was true. Maybe it was a different skeleton named Nightmare and covered in living goop? That seemed unlikely, but you never knew what would happen in a world like this.

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