Shade
Silas "Shade" Nightingale
"I used to kill for God. Now I just kill for money. It's more honest."
Shade" (primary)
"The Purple Ghost" (whispered in Deseret)
"That Flashy Bastard" (various saloons)
Physical Appearance
Height: 6'5"
Weight: 145lbs
Hair: Dark brown with purple tinting (refreshed regularly), wavy and worn longer, falling past his ears in an artfully tousled style
Eyes: Deep brown, sharp and observant
Silas cuts an unmistakable figure wherever he goes. Unusually tall and almost impossibly lean, he moves with the practiced economy of a trained fighter wrapped in the flourishes of a dandy. His face is all sharp angles - high cheekbones, a defined jawline, and features that toe the line between masculine and androgynous in a way that used to make church elders uncomfortable. His pale complexion contrasts strikingly with his dark hair and the deep brown eyes that miss nothing, even when they're twinkling with amusement.
His signature look centers on deep purple—a fitted black leather vest over a silk shirt the color of bruised plums, ornate gun belt with elaborate tooling and silver buckles. His wide-brimmed black hat sports a purple band, and his twin revolvers rest in hand-tooled holsters that probably cost more than most men make in a month. Every element of his appearance demands attention, a deliberate middle finger to the years he spent trying to blend into shadows.
His hands are steady and deceptively strong despite his slender build, and his movements carry the fluid precision of someone trained in violence from a young age. A careful observer might notice how his eyes constantly scan his surroundings, or how he never quite turns his back to a door—old habits from his Danite days that he can't quite shake, no matter how much purple silk he wears.
Personality & Traits
General Overview
Silas is a study in contradictions—flamboyant yet guarded, confident yet haunted. His dandy persona serves as both liberation and armor; if everyone's staring at the purple-clad gunslinger, they're not looking deeper at the man beneath. He cultivates an air of dangerous charm, quick with a quip or a smirk, but there's a wariness in his eyes that never quite fades.
He's intelligent and calculating, legacy of his Danite training, but uses humor and showmanship to deflect from the darker corners of his past. With those he trusts (a short list), he can be fiercely loyal and surprisingly vulnerable. With everyone else, he maintains a performance—entertaining, skilled, but always slightly out of reach.
Strengths & Weaknesses
Strengths:
- Exceptional gunfighting skills, particularly with pistols
- Quick-thinking and tactical mind from Danite training
- Skilled at stealth and infiltration when needed
- Charming and socially adept when he wants to be
- Observant and detail-oriented
- Fierce loyalty to those who earn his trust
- Adaptable and resourceful in dangerous situations
Weaknesses:
- Deep-seated trust issues
- Guilt over actions taken as a Danite
- Tendency to use flamboyance as emotional armor
- Difficulty forming genuine connections
- Paranoia about being found by former comrades
- Sometimes reckless when trying to prove his independence
- Conflicted feelings about faith and his upbringing
- Can be vindictive toward authority figures who try to control him
Ambitions
Silas wants to prove that he can live life on his own terms—free from the Church's control, free from society's expectations, free to be himself without apology. More practically, he's building a new life in Dodge City, establishing himself as someone valuable enough that people won't ask too many questions about where he came from. He dreams of truly being free from his past, though he's starting to realize that might require confronting it rather than running from it.
Part of him wants to find others like him—those who didn't fit the mold and found their own way. Another part still searches for something to believe in now that his faith has shattered, though he'd never admit it out loud.
Hobbies & Interests
Silas maintains his weapons with almost religious devotion, finding something meditative in the cleaning and care of his revolvers. He's developed a taste for fine clothing and takes pride in his appearance, viewing his wardrobe as an art form. He enjoys cards (though he's careful not to win too often) and has a surprisingly good singing voice that comes out after a few drinks. He's also an avid reader when he can get his hands on dime novels or newspapers from back East, curious about the wider world he's only beginning to discover.
Personal History
Silas Nightingale never fit into Mormon society. Too flamboyant, too questioning, too different—his "preferences" were whispered about in parlors but never spoken of directly. He tried to be what they wanted, tried to pray away what made him different, but the only thing that came naturally was violence. He was quick, precise, and coldly effective when circumstances demanded it.
When the Danites came recruiting, the church elders saw an opportunity. Perhaps discipline and purpose would "fix" what was "wrong" with him. Perhaps channeling his talents into the Church's secret work would make him useful. Silas accepted, partly from duty, partly from desperate hope that service might make him worthy, might make him belong.
For three years, he served as a Danite operative. He became good at it—too good. Moving in shadows, gathering information, eliminating threats to the Church's interests. He learned to infiltrate, to deceive, to kill when necessary. But he remained an outsider even among the Danites, his differences tolerated only because of his effectiveness.
The breaking point came during a mission in the winter of 1875. Silas was ordered to eliminate a young man accused of spreading "lies" about the Church—a fellow Mormon who'd fallen in love with another man and refused to hide it any longer. Looking at the target, Silas saw himself, or what he could have been if he'd had that courage. He couldn't pull the trigger.
Instead, he warned the man to run. Then Silas ran too.
He fled Deseret with nothing but his guns, his skills, and a burning need to be something other than what they'd tried to make him. He dyed his hair, adopted the purple clothes as a declaration of defiance, and headed east to the Disputed Lands. If they'd wanted him to blend into shadows, he'd be impossible to miss. If they'd wanted him modest and humble, he'd be the flashiest gunslinger anyone had ever seen.
He ended up in Dodge City, attracted by its neutrality and its reputation for not asking too many questions. When Colonel Brennan came looking for skilled guns to solve problems, Silas signed on. The work suits him—dangerous enough to keep him sharp, flexible enough that he's not taking orders from zealots, and lucrative enough to maintain his new life.
But he knows the Danites don't forget. And he knows what he knows about Deseret's secrets could get him killed if the wrong people decide he's too much of a liability.
The night Silas chose to let his target escape, standing in the snow outside the man's cabin with his gun drawn, he realized he'd been given a choice: become the weapon they wanted him to be, or become human. He chose humanity, even knowing what it would cost him. The purple clothes he bought in his first town outside Deseret weren't just rebellion—they were a promise to himself that he'd never again hide who he was for anyone's comfort.
Worst Nightmare
Silas's worst nightmare is being captured by his former Danite comrades and dragged back to Deseret in chains. Not to be killed—that would be too merciful. Instead, he'd be "reeducated," broken down and rebuilt into the obedient tool they always wanted him to be. In this nightmare, he's stripped of his purple clothes, his personality, his very self, forced to kneel before the elders who smile and tell him this is for his own good. The true horror isn't the pain or punishment—it's the fear that part of him might give in, might accept it, might choose the safety of submission over the danger of freedom. He wakes from these dreams reaching for his guns, needing the weight of them to remember who he chose to be.
Connections
Family
Spouse: None
Children: None
Mother: Abigail Nightingale (née Jensen), alive but considers him dead to the family. She never understood her son but grieved when he left.
Father: Ephraim Nightingale, deceased (died when Silas was 15 in a mining accident). Was disappointed in his son but not cruel.
Siblings: Three older brothers (Caleb, Ephraim Jr., and Samuel) and one younger sister (Mercy). All remain in Deseret. Mercy secretly sent him one letter that found him in Dodge City, saying she missed him and hoped he was safe.
Allies & Contacts
Colonel Augustus "Gus" Brennan: Silas' current employer. The Colonel doesn't ask about his past, and Silas doesn't volunteer. A professional relationship, but one Silas values for its lack of judgment.
Daniel Cross: The man Silas was supposed to kill, who escaped to California. They exchanged one letter after Silas fled Deseret—Daniel thanking him and warning him that the Danites would come. Silas considers him the first person he ever truly saved.
Various contacts in Dodge City: Saloon owners, stable hands, telegraph operators—people who know Shade as the flashy gunslinger who tips well and doesn't cause trouble unless trouble comes to him first.
Enemies
The Danites: His former brothers in the shadows. They consider him a traitor and liability. Some hunt him for duty, some for personal reasons, all are dangerous.
Elder Matthias Kaine: The Danite commander who personally recruited Silas and views his defection as a personal betrayal. Methodical, patient, and absolutely committed to bringing Silas back or putting him down.
Brother Isaiah Thorne: A fellow Danite operative who always resented Silas' skill and saw his "wrongness." Now leads the active hunt for him, more out of zealotry than orders.
Various marks from his Danite days: People who survived encounters with the Purple Ghost (as he was sometimes called) or who lost loved ones to Danite operations Silas was part of. Not all of them know his face, but some do.
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