A Rogue in Cowgirl clothing: McMillan's Bio and Background.

 Laine McMillan :  Rogue of the MacMillan Clan 

I am Laine McMillan ..now I just go by McMillan. Caught in the 1800s fleeing through time landing in the wild west.. A vast place to disappear.

I try not to waste words. And when I do there is an accompanied grunt, swear, spit slur to fit my role and keep people at bay.. I don't like to get close to people in any real way. Trust is a luxury that is of infinite cost.

If my boots are up my hat is down..most likely I have had a couple drams of good whiskey. my gun is free in the holster just in case. Long knife with the etched MacMillan family cross. Sheathed to the side.

My dog and horse are the best parts of me and maybe the most human even though they look very much of gears.

My time of origin is from the distant future 3245. The world is a mash of realities and those sworn to protect are hunted by the order and their minions. Demonic forms capture mind soul body..turning friend to foe.. It was this very thing that caused me to take such drastic measures to cross time and dimensions to now.

My team, Posse were hunting a horde..when we made a drastic mistake and got boxed in on hollowed ground ..the screams and torment..the alluring beckoning to cross the ground ..the line..as each on crossed..they were consumed.. I did not miss my mark damning both from the world.

I was alone surround by graves..and silence ..and the terror of what I was forced..chose to do. When I was found well I was charged by the order ..murder, failure, entrapment, working w the enemy.. all false but they couldn't have such a stain. Governance was by perception not reality.

So I called on my ancestors ( I was branded young, picked from others, sworn to carry the oath "secure the distressed") The brand carries powers beyond my understanding it feels like centuries of preserverance, knowledge, mystical force. That's when I first whispered and touched the brand to open the portal. I fled for death by the order was what awaited me.

All I have known are dead, many by my own hand. So I picked a farm.. that is cloaked between here and there. I found Sally's depot a place for "travellers'.

I picked bounty hunting as a profession. And set up my financial network. My brand immediately created connection in the irish and scottish communities across the states and in Empire. Which has allowed me movement and access without much distress.

On the side I use my knowledge as a chemist or time appropriate alchemy to made my own gunpowder, whiskey, and few other fun toys like smoke canisters, a pepper bombs.

I do a bit of forge work for the bullets and shells, armor for my fur family. Comes in useful in this growing industrial age.

I am haunted by the future past and called to serve yet have no idea why. This (STEAM) misfit crew I have fallen in with curious lot of adventures having a bit of novel authentic good to them. I find I crave a group to belong to after running from shadows for so long.

How I meet my new Sisters :

in my first meeting with Sable while chasing a murderous lot in Chicago. including HHHolmes who had captured our Sable for a short time and then fled. (truly a feat to be admired or feared) and a figure that haunted the crew of STEAM. I left a tracker on the team for at least if they found themselves in trouble in the States ..i could respond..

I was boots up, whiskey in hand when my brand started itching and glowing.

"Leave them alone in country a few months and trouble finds them" .. I throw back the whiskey. Hastily gather my stuff.. Whistle come on Mac we travel.

My pup gives some lip not wanting to leave the warmth of his hearth. Rawraw raw.. and trudges in his light footed way.

I get to the barn, close the doors. Hey Jerrald go sleep in the house tonight.. tend the fire and everything while I am gone..Stay out of my good whiskey. (I have his the good stuff, and the decanter is the lesser watered down libation as Jerrald is know to partake a bit to.much) great ranch hand just a bit of a drunkard also when not occupied W work, or company.

I saddle up Reign .. she is as much mystical machine now as horse, but her soul is there. I see it in her eyes and her nudging of my arm. Through on our camp gear, check my pistols, long knife embedded and folded W Silver and bathed in the Sisters holy water.

My belt is studded with several gems. Cloaked under thin leather. They are tools not to be a fancy riders.

I check to ensure Reigns gears, stones are set. Then mount up. Touch my brand ..hot like fire and whisper in Gaelic FOSGAILTE

The portal opens. I ride through..Mac lips along..only to find .. a Woman who seems like a wild witch, My Hyde a bit blushed. A giant, the Dr and Mrs Watson at Camp.

They look a bit surprised that I am here ..top of a mountain..a dusty rider, horse ..dog.. in tow I may have some explaining to do.

I simply say..."thought you could use some help brought my dog. Mac, that's Reign as I point to the horse" 

See Less

And this is how I met Maria and because re-aquainted with Sable  who appeared after me from the darkness to help quail a vampire in New Jersey and his rogue of hell hounds, Winged ladies and other ghouls. 

Sealing the deal: 

ON a super sonic sub .. we sealed our friendship over music and a game of cards.. and possibly to much to invibe in our giddy tea and my distilled vibe.   Much of this archive is found within StEAMs journals and can be found