Tumgik
#known for stealing horses and robbing trains
corvosattano · 2 months
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your blorbos make me CRY pls tell me more abt cole i love him sm
THANK YOU 😭
he’s new so i’m still feeling him out but.
he’s my little 19th century cowboy who started as a joke when i said i wanted to write lil a cheesy bodice ripper style romance story for shits and gigs.
he’s a bastard child who was born to a prostitute in what’s now known as wyoming and raised in a whorehouse until he was 6. he actually remembers this fondly, even if his actual memories of the time are few and far between due to his young age (and frankly, some of the things he saw.)
his mother died when he was 6 (some combo of syphilis and physical abuse from clients) and cole got tossed on the street pretty much immediately. he was the one who found her dead. he thought she was sleeping.
he lived on the streets for a few months, figuring out how to beg and steal pretty effectively, but got scooped up by a gang of outlaws when he (successfully, mind you) pickpocketed half the members when they were drunk at a saloon.
he committed his first murder at 12 and was robbing banks and trains by the time he was 15. he insists nothing to this point was actually That Traumatic by the way.
he now works for lily’s father training horses at their farm back east. he’s definitely not laying low and waiting for a bit of trouble to blow over back west. nope.
he can’t read or write worth a damn. a massive detail of the Major Trouble Event that sent him fleeing east hinges on him not being able to fucking read and him being so good at lying a former employer didn’t believe he was illiterate.
big guy. tall. hairy. built like a brick shithouse. which are all very important details to include.
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segfaultfault · 2 months
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Why are some things called final? And I'm curious about Butch Danvers in particular 👀
lol uh.... Final is usually Final. These, I was messing around, playing bingo with the flufftober calendar you (!) sent me. I thought I was done, but then I read them back, and one felt really rough; the other I felt like I could dig deeper. So... they've been sitting. 
Butch Danvers is a western, Red Dead Redemption style (aka Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid). Maggie is a Pinkerton Agent sent to bring in the gang. 
I put in 60k for nanowrimo 2022 and then promptly burned out on writing to word counts. I haven't really touched it since. Part way through I realized I was writing something quite similar to "Operation Unmask the Masks." I have since clarified some ideas on how to differentiate this story. I think it'd also be nice to take a crack at fixing some of the weaknesses in Masks. 
Excerpt under the cut!
"What would you know of ranching?"  Butch turned an appraising eye on her. "So you didn't do your homework. I was a cattle rancher first. I thought that was fairly common knowledge."  "Is that what they call rustling now?" Butch's lips pressed into a thin line, and Maggie realized she'd hit a nerve. As far as she knew, the only thing Butch Danvers was known for robbing were trains and stagecoaches. She'd never been accused of stealing cattle.  Butch leaned back in her saddle. "I'll admit, the repetitive nature of an honest living wasn't to my liking. But even the consummate rogue, as the days get long, finds herself desiring the settled life as she approaches—" "The consequences of your actions? Mortality?" "Meeting the right woman."  Maggie scoffed, but Butch would not be deterred.  "We'd keep a ranch at the foot of the mountains. Most nights, we stay up late, sitting out on the porch we'd built ourselves, watching the shooting stars and drinking whiskey. You'll lean in to me for warmth, and I'll feel the boldness of alcohol and whisper into your ear all the ways you still drive me mad after a near decade." Butch's grin turned lascivious. "And all the things I will do to you later in the night."  Maggie's laugh came out rough. The outlaw's fantasy was a siren's song.  "You'll keep my actions chaste though. Because just inside, the first door on the left, sleeps our kid, Gertrude—" "Did you just name your kid after your horse?" "Our kid," Butch confirmed smugly.  "I'm not the kids kind of woman, Danvers."  Instead of wiping the smug look off her face, Butch pivoted with an easy grin. "Gertrude, our cattle dog. She's sleeping at our feet, and you don't want to disturb her. She's had a long day."  Maggie snorted. "Do you know any other names?" "I do, in fact." The grin widened. "I think Margaret is particularly beautiful."  "My name's Margarita." "That's what I said. Margarita." 
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shyrose57 · 3 years
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AU(s) where all the mod videos Tommy does, along with some other videos, are all alternate universes, and their residents end up in the SMP. Chaos ensues. 
Voice Mod AU:
Universe where nobody talks aloud. They telepathically communicate, and the closer you are, the clearer and louder you are, unless you have the control the lower your mental voice.
Why?
Post-apocalyptic world(because Tommy said welcome to the new world at the start, and I too that and ran with it). They’re the new versions of humans, created after life returned on the planett, and the telepathy is a survival method, because outward noise draws predators, inner noise does not. 
This also means they possibly have some other features similar to that. Like maybe Quackity’s duck wings being from some newly evolved duck species in the new world, Wilbur being a bit abnormally tall, or similar. I’m not sure. 
Oh hey, no, Wilbur can be like a tree hybrid or something, cause Treebur. 
Basically, evolution and telepathy.
Wilbur has a horse named Bert, he is speedy, and spends just as much time dragging his owner out of trouble than he does riding him into it.
The gang is basically just traveling the lands, exploring what’s about.
There are fish-horses, ender-horses, spider-horses, silverfish ponies, and horses that are somewhat like a breed between llamas and sheep in the world.
There are a lot of new horse breeds.
The Quackity of this universe wears clothes a lot like Manhunt Dream’s, hoodie-wise, but it’s all bright blue, and his mask has the :] face on it.
Size Mod AU:
Universe where people can shift and change sizes, though only to certain ones.
For example, Wilbur’s stuck small. He can shift to the size of a small dog, height wise, or that of a flower, but he can’t get big. Quackity can go smaller than Wilbur, or literally bigger than the Enderdragon. Both Tommy can be normal sized, or big, and Phil’s can be about the size of a tree, or become the size of a small mountain. 
They all live in a nice house in the plains and spend their time terrorizing the locals.
Wilbur has a little house within the house, and he uses his size to cause havoc more often than not. Quackity is equally guilty of this.
Sometimes when the kids are being particularly bad, Phil puts the smaller ones in a compost bin and holds Tommy off the ground until he starts behaving. 
Quackity’s a follower of the Blood God. Not to Techno’s length, but he goes and kills rabbits for him, and dedicates the chaos his giant form causes to the guy. In return, the four always have a flourishing harvest, and Quackity’s absolutely mean in battle. 
Wilbur sleeps in one of Tommy’s old shoes that he stole and made into a bed.
Honestly, Wilbur’s kind of like the house mouse. He steals stuff and vibes in his little home in the walls. The cats that occasionally slip in try to eat him a lot too.
Wilbur and Quackity are bird hybrids, Tommy’s a zombie hybrid(cause he’s fighting a zombie and saying ‘I burn’ at that little bit), and Phil’s an iron golem hybrid.
Quackity and WIlbur have little bird-houses set up around the area for them to dart into and hide if anything comes after them.
They all met when tiny Q and Wilbur tried to rob Tommy and Phil. They succeeded with Tommy, but Phil was less than impressed at the attempt. Somehow it resulted in them all sharing a house.
Dragon Mod AU:
Universe set in more medieval-themed world. Phil, Quackity, and Tommy are dragon hunters. Wilbur’s a mischievous dragon sorcerer who enjoys shapeshifting into a dragon to mess with people. The hunters were originally sent after him, but spent more time frantically running for their lives while he laughed at them.
Wilbur’s actually good friends with the actual Enderdragon, who he calls Keithette. It was with her blessing that he decided to pick on the hunters.
He just spends all of his time messing with them. That’s all he does. He messes with them. It’s originally more malicious, which means they had a ridiculous amount of deaths, but they eventually all grew fond of each other, so now it’s more playful. 
He helps them find treasure and scares off rivals. 
Tommy’s a trained medic. 
Quackity and Wilbur are...something? It’s a Skephalo situation. They could just be very affectionate friends, or they could be dating, or they could be messing with everyone. Nobody knows, and everytime they think they’ve figured it out, the two seem to magically know and do something to throw them off.
They’ve confused many, many people with their antics. 
(They’re probably messing with people though, because they definitely know what they’re doing)
When the actual Enderdragon and her egg mysteriously went missing, Wilbur rounded up his friends and asked for their help in finding her-so now the group is on a quest to find her and return her to the End.
Natural Disaster Mod AU:
Universe where world ending natural disasters just keep happening. It killed off a lot of people, but honestly, at this point, it’s been going on for years, and those that remain are pretty used to it.
Tubbo and Wilbur are followers of the Mule God, and were brought together by him. Jack and Tommy are two good friends who came together to survive. And Phil’s a top-tier survivalist who keeps an eye on the four, mostly because he’d feel bad if they died too often while they live in the area.
Though they’re all three different groups, they stick together and help each other out.
Tommy and Tubbo were childhood friends before the disasters separated them. A young Jack found Tommy and took him in, and Tubbo was saved and blessed by the Mule God. They’re still friends, but have somewhat grown apart with their differing lifestyles. 
Tommy’s a penguin hybrid. 
Tubbo and Wilbur have been known to try and scam people passing by, and they have tried this with everyone in the area too-the difference is the ones who stick around know better than to buy it. 
Whenever Tommy wants to hang out, he declares he’s rescuing Tubbo, and steals him from whatever he’s doing. Wilbur has long since accepted that occasionally Tubbo is going to be stolen, and doesn’t even blink anymore. 
Tommy wears green, and Tubbo wears red. 
Storm riding is a favored sport of Tubbo’s, where you grab a hang glider and get swept up into the storm. Jack hates it, but often gets dragged along anyway. 
Morph Mod AU:
Universe where shapeshifters are more common, and Tommy, Charlie, Phil, Schlatt, and Wilbur are all a clan of them. 
They co-exist with humans, and actually protect the local villages they live close too. 
They also spend a lot of time messing with people outside said villages, but that’s unimportant. 
Charlie and Wilbur prefer to be aquatic creatures. while Phil transforms into whatever works better for the environment he’s in. Schlatt just does whatever, and Tommy usually sticks to human form, only shifting when he’s bored or he needs too. 
Wilbur tried to transform into a horse once, while in fish form. He’s not sure what exactly happened, but long story short, he’s the reason for the myth of the hippocampus.
They have a house in the village, one out, and then general little areas meant for them in animal form. 
Because shapeshifters are strongly group-oriented, they prefer to shift in pairs or groups. Charlie and Wilbur typically pair up, as do Schlatt and Tommy. Philza doesn’t really have that instinct as strongly, so he just stays close to them instead. 
Laser Eye Mod AU:
Universe set in a futuristic setting, where, due to an ancient void deity becoming malicious, Tommy, Phil, Charlie, and Wilbur are selected to become plasma wielding cyber warriors(futuristic magical girls, basically) to fight back against such threats.
These four’s cybernetics were embued with magic to produce specific plasma that would be effective against threats.
Phil wields divine plasma, and it’s fired out from his cybernetic wings, which were implanted as a military experiment. He can even detach a feather to act as a plasma covered sword.
Tommy wields phoenix plasma, and it’s fired out of his cybernetic eyes, which were transplanted into him when he was in an accident young, rendering him blind. They allow him to see by scanning out the outlines of objects and areas, and feeding the image into his brain.
Wilbur wields soulfire plasma, which is fired from his prosthetic legs, which have a kind of mermaid-motif, with fins and all, and make him a fast swimmer.
And Charlie wields greekfire plasma, fired from his cybernetic arm-it can also fire slime-like globs that rapidly grow and incase the area they’re attached too. 
Wilbur was actually the first selected for the program, but he went missing shortly after, stolen and controlled by the void deity, who turned him into quite the obstacle for the others.
They eventually rescued him from it’s control, and after he recovered, he joined the fight. 
Endermen and endermen hybrids are common minions of the void deity-it seems to have End-based origins, being able to control them.
Lava Ravine Mod AU:
Universe where Phil, Charlie, Wilbur, and Tommy are all strangers, who get a mysterious invite to an unknown world. It seems like a lovely vacation at first, strangers aside, but things turn deadly when a seemingly normal ravine in the ground begins to grow, the lava inside it begins to rise, and our heroes find themselves unable to leave the world.
They soon realized they may have been selected for their ability to survive, but to do that, they’re going to have to all work together.
Tommyinnit originates from the world of RLcraft, Phil grew up in Hardcore Mode, Charlie is a fallen god from a world of chaos, and Wilbur has lived through a world like this before.
They build a giant glass and stone dome, and live within there, using their various skills to survive. 
Wilbur pretty much knows how this world works to a T, and is able to predict when the lava will raise and how quickly. He knows how to survive and work around the heat.
Tommy and Phil have a variety of skills from their lives before, not limited to first aid and cooking.
And Charlie’s got a bit of godly power he can put to good use here, as well as many out-of-the-box ideas for what to do.
Charlie brought a card-game from his old world, and teaches Wilbur how to play. It becomes a favorite past time of theirs. 
Jump Mod AU:
Universe where enhanced individuals have recently begun to exist. Tommy, Wilbur, and Quackity are some of many who choose to use their new abilities for their own gain, becoming thieves. They were taken under the wing of master thief Philza, who was in the game long before he gained his new powers.
Or, well, they were thieves. A job gone wrong resulted in them being caught by authorities, and forced into a deal. Once thieves for their own gain, now they’re agents for the government, stealing back what was stolen from their country. 
All of them are generally more physically enhanced, with agility, endurance, and all that jazz. But they also have other abilities. 
Tommy’s faster than anyone. Wilbur can refract light, essentially becoming invisible. Phil can communicate with birds. And Quackity can change the density of anything he touches, himself excluded. 
Philza was actually caught because he stayed behind for his new partners. He had realized someone was looking into them, and didn’t want the younger ones going into that alone. 
TNT Mod AU:
Universe where everyone is a mob hybrid, and they live divided in tribes. Tommy, Phil, Charlie, and Wilbur are a tribe/keg of creeper hybrids, who protect their territory, and cause havoc for any trespassers who happens upon them.
No one dares settle there, because these four are just as likely to swear a village’s protection as they are to laugh as they set it ablaze. It’s purely up to how they feel at the moment, finicky keg that they are. 
However, there is a reason some do venture here. 
Every tribe/(name for grouping of specific mob) guards a certain treasure. For the creeper boys, it’s an orchard of apple trees that grow, not only red apples, but gold ones too-and rarely, a god apple.
If you do happen to stumble upon their territory unintentionally, your best bet is to appeal to Wilbur, as he does have a soft spot for people-of course, you’ll need to make sure none of the others think you’re taking advantage of that soft spot, lest they slowly and painfully kill you for even considering it.
Creepers are very friendly to them, and see them as one of their own. Other mobs, not so much.
The orchard is surrounded by a dense forest, that’s abruptly lets up to a clearing that rings around it. This is where the keg lives, in high tree houses all connected to one another.
Their forest is their pride and joy, and it’s filled with many exotic trees and plants from around the world. Bringing them an addition for it is a sure way to assure your survival, and even gain an alliance, if it’s a really good addition.
Likewise, messing it up even slightly will immediately get you murdered.
Black Hole Mod AU:
Universe where the sun exploded and became a black hole that’s slowly consuming the world. Though many perished, some survived, with the advanced technology in the future.
Wilbur, Charlie, Phil, and Tommy are some of those survivors. 
Charlie is a scientist, studying the black hole to see if there’s anyway to perhaps stop it, or survive within it once it consumes them.
Phil’s a former mercenary who came to the lab with Tommy, after finding the young student stumbling about the remains of a city.
Wilbur’s the former on-board scientist from the crew that first encountered the black hole. He was originally presumed dead, but suddenly reappeared one day, and was found nearby by Phil, who dragged him to the lab. He’s...different. He’s seen things.
Charlie and Wilbur graduated from the same university, and were actually working in the same lab before Wilbur joined his crew in space for an up-close study.
Philza has a bad habit of adopting any creature he finds, and it’s become something of a joke by the four. He adopted Tommy, he’s adopted Wilbur and Charlie, and he has quite a few birds and other creatures that followed him back.
Body Shuffle Mod AU:
Universe where glitches a common sight, and humanity has evolved alongside them.
The world basically...well, I wouldn’t say revolves around? But glitches are a large part of life at this point, and players have specifically evolved to be able to work with them.
A common glitch includes the Body Glitch, where random body parts will seemingly vanish off a person without causing them harm or effecting them.
Tommy and Charlie are Takers, people who have a special, glitch-specific gene that allows them to take a glitch effecting a being or item, and pull that effect from said being/item, and upon themselves.
They’re equally loved and hated, considering the rarity of the gene, and what uses it could be employed for.
The two have a business that they use this ability to take and relocate glitches for various purposes.
Philza and Wilbur are the two’s bodyguards turned friends, who protect them from less savory people, and suss out the ones with bad intentions.
Gas Mod AU:
Universe set in a modern fantasy world where a mysterious gas suddenly overtook the planet. Many died. A few survived-but for some of them, that was the crueler fate, as the mysterious gas began to make them monsterous creatures that sought flesh and blood.
Tommy, Charlie, Phil and Wilbur are the scattered survivors in a city overtaken by the gas, banding together to fight back the monsters born from the green fog, and stay alive. 
Wilbur was formerly a cartographer on a ship. He’s also half siren, and his most priceless possession is a diamond dagger given to him by his former captain.
Charlie is a doctor, as well as a wizard. His magic pet is a slime-like dragon. Yeah, he’s not sure where the little guy came from either.
Phil got a whole cocktail of heritage, but most are sky-related, so he’s got a strong grasp on air magic, which he uses to create safe bubbles for the gang to breathe freely.
And Tommy’s a low tier human-turned demon after death- an imp, basically. He causes havoc.
They all have to wear gas mask, which are heavily enchanted to keep the gas from affecting them.
The group basically just has a weirdly domestic life in the abandoned city, after they cleared out an abandoned apartment building to chill in.
Surgery Mod:
Universe where the gang are the experiments of a mad scientist having escaped.
Tommy is a poison-based experiment, Wilbur is a Nether-based one, Philza is an End-based experiment, and Charlie is an Over-world based one.
They were all grouped together in a cell because the older three are part of the Dimension Project, and Tommy accidentally imprinted on Wilbur when he was created, meaning he would have died if he was separated from him.
The four eventually decide that they hate this life, and stage a break out with the rest of the guys experiments. 
Once they escaped, they decided to travel the world as a family, exploring everything they’d never had the chance to see, and finding where they belonged in this place.
Lava Floor Mod AU:
Universe where all the oceans in the world have been replaced by lava. For Ninja, Tommy, Wilbur, and George, their get-along vacation goes south when they’re stranded alone on a chain of distant islands, far from any sign of civilization. 
If they ever hope to survive, they’ll have to put their issues to the side and work together to get to the one place unaffected-the Nether.
Tommy ‘Smokes’ Notfound, and Wilbur ‘Soot’ Fortnite are the two children of the struggling couple George ‘Specs’ Notfound and Ninja ‘Bow’ Fortnite, who haven’t seen each other in years, despite still being married.
The two, knowing how close their kids were, agree to meet up so the two can hang out, which is why they ended up on this vacation on the first place. 
Wilbur and Smokes would really appreciate if their parents could get along too-it’d make vacation a lot nicer without all the tension. And yes, they could worry about all the oceans turning to lava, but they won’t. Instead, they’re going to be gremlins who try to get their parents to make up, whether that means divorce, or becoming a happy couple again.
Rising Void Mod AU:
Universe where the planets are being eaten by the void. Tommy, Philza, and Quackity are all aliens who managed to escape the demise of their home planets, and crashed landed on Earth, with the intention of warning them of what was coming.
Unfortunately, the only guy around for miles is Ranboo, a conspiracy theorist who prefers his isolated mountain cabin to the city...and also is in complete denial about the existence of aliens, even if they’re standing right in front of him. 
Quackity is from a planet where ores and gems have a large part of fashion culture.
Tommy’s planet was the first to fall. However, Quackity was the one who was closest to be touching, and it leaves side effects-like him occasionally hearing it’s eldritch whispering calling for him to surrender himself to it and stop fighting-
But, y’know. It’s fine. It’s all good.
(Although he does happen to be the most aware of their inevitable fate, and uses humor to cope with the knowledge that no matter how hard they try, he and these people he’s grown to care for are going to die, and there’s absolutely no way to stop that)
Sky Grid Mod AU
Universe where Ranboo is a young, lonely god born to a grid-formed world. Though he has made many interesting creations, he decides he wants someone like him. Who can listen, and answer, and love, and hate.
And the universe loves him, so it answers.
It finds two souls who’ve died too young, and puts them into his hands to mold as he wishes. One, he creates in colors of green, like grass, and emeralds, and poison alike. The other, he creates in colors of red, like lava and poppies, and warm beds.
Their names are Tubbo and Tommy, and they’re different than what he thought they’d be. They cannot be controlled or remade, but they can bleed, and they can laugh, and most importantly, they can make choices.
And they choose to love him, taking him in their embrace as a friend, treating him kindly, and as one of their own, regardless of his power or abilities. 
The three make a home in the gridded world, finding themselves and never fearing the fall, because the world loves both it’s godling, and the people made within it.
Terraforming The Moon AU:
Universe where the remains of humanity have fled to the moon upon the destruction of earth. They unintentionally awake age-old space deities, who, luckily for them, feel like lending a hand-mostly. 
Wilbur is the only actual deity of the moon, but the rest of the SBI spend more time there than they don’t, because humans are interesting.
Tommy’s the youngest god, a deity of the stars within their young galaxy-it’s a position that was passed onto him by the former star deity, Clara.
Technoblade is the deity of both Mars and Venus. He’s actually been to Earth a few times before it’s destruction, and finds their cultures fascinating-particularly the Greek and Romans.
Philza is the god of the End. The oldest, he’s not just a deity, he’s a primordial of the end of all things. Truthfully, it was the very end of Earth that awoke him from his slumber, and it’s former inhabitants interesting lives that keep him awake.
They all pick a human to favor, and help out. Changes on the day.
Honestly, they aren’t necessarily malicious? They don’t really consider the fact that humans don’t have the same limitations and powers as them, so occasionally they fuck something up that somebody worked hard on, and don’t understand why they don’t just fix it already, not realizing that the humans actually have to take awhile to do that.
One Hundred Player Laboratory AU:
Universe set in modern time. 
Wilbur and Technoblade are two university students trying to do a study for their finals-unfortunately, the rats they were supposed to use are both oddly sentient, and incredibly chaotic.
Techno and Wilbur are doing a study of behavior, and other scientific things. To do this, Techno has built a large, complex maze/building thing.
And Wilbur purchased a bunch of rats-except, he probably should have been a bit more careful who he bought from, becomes these rats definitely understand human speech, are all not normally colored, and desire to be as annoying and detrimental to their grades as possible.
To put it lightly, it’s not going well.
George’s If You Laugh You Lose Rematch AU:
Universe set in a chaotic, light-hearted world.
Sapnap, Karl, George, and Dream are some of the world’s residents.
Karl and Dream are chaotic shapeshifters who enjoy messing with George.
Sapnap’s a mischievous nether spirit who likes to team up and help them do it.
Karl can shift into objects, and Dream can turn into animals. 
The whole world is comedic, and all it’s residents have a permanent case of the giggles-to the point of making a game of how long one can hold off laughing.
Sapnap usually takes the form of an enderman or enderman hybrid 
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peachy-rambles · 3 years
Text
Robin Hood + A/B/O AU pt. 2 (part 1 here):
Philza.
It was Philza.
Phil, the disowned Omega of the noble House Elytrian. The same Phil who all those years ago had seen Prince Dream bullying a defenseless child and stepped in when no one else had ever bothered or dared to.
Phil, who Techno considered his first (maybe only) friend and had never forgotten about, had carried a torch for him all these years.
Phil was the outlaw, the one who had been terrorizing and robbing the upper class and nobleman. He was the "Angel of Death", as they had begun to call him, receiving the nickname after killing the last few generals sent to capture him.
Phil was the Angel of Death, and regardless of his own personal feelings, it was Techno's job to capture him and present him to Dream, so that Phil could be properly punished for his crimes.
Which was exactly the reason why Techno was now attempting to sneak back into his own estate with Phil's unconscious body in his arms, using the hidden (and mostly unknown) back entrance.
He made it past the outer walls that fortified the small estate without being seen just fine, the few servants hired to work there all inside for the day due to the pouring rain. Unfortunately, this also meant that bringing Phil into the manor wasn't an option, not without getting caught anyway. But Techno needed to find a warm, dry place where he could set Phil down and quick.
The only place that came to his mind were the stables. Techno knew they should be empty at that time of day and there were plenty of vacant stalls where he could place Phil and hide him. Not only that, but if anyone did enter the stable, Phil's Omega scent would be easily concealed underneath the smell of the horses.
Right. The stables it was.
Techno quickly made his way to the large building, pushing the heavy door open and walking inside the dimly lit building. He began to relax now that he inside and out of the rain-
-only to internally curse when he saw that the stables weren't as empty like he'd assumed they would be.
Apparently, a certain apprentice of his had decided that day to spend time in the stables.
"Sir!" Ranboo exclaimed with a smile on his face, walking out of one of the occupied stalls, closing it behind him. "You were gone for a long time, so I decided to check in on Carl-"
Ranboo stopped mid-sentence and froze where he stood, his eyes widening as they landed on the body in Techno's arms.
Techno cringed, knowing his cover had been blown.
"Is that them? The-the Angel of Death? You...you finally caught them?" Ranboo stuttered out, his voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, Techno considered lying before he quickly remembered that he was horrible at lying. Even if Techno was somewhat decent at it, Ranboo was fully aware that Techno's sole task at the moment was the capture the Angel of Death and knew just about everything that Techno knew about them. He would no doubt recognize the clothes Phil was wearing to be the same signature ones the Angel of Death was always seen wearing.
So, lying to Ranboo was out.
Which meant...Techno would have to tell the truth.
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
"Yes and no," was all Techno said and walked past Ranboo, heading further into the building. He entered an empty stall towards the back, giving it a quick once over before deeming it acceptable. He crouched down, and with great care, set Phil down onto the soft pile of clean hay that lay inside the stall.
Techno glanced briefly behind him, unsurprised to see that Ranboo had followed him and was standing there in the doorway of the stall, fidgeting nervously and his scent (so light, that it was easy to mistake him for a Beta) beginning to sour with anxiety.
"Sir?" the young Alpha asked, his voice quiet and unsure.
"Ranboo, I need you to go into the manor and gather up the medical supplies in my room - bandages, potions, take all of it. Grab two extra sets of my clothes as well," Techno ordered, and lowered his voice, adding on, "Make sure you aren't seen by anyone."
Ranboo was quiet for a moment before he seemed to properly comprehend Techno's words, his eyes lighting up in understanding and he nodded, "Yes, sir!"
He walked off and out of view, the sound of the stable doors opening and closing echoing throughout the building as Ranboo left.
With Ranboo gone for the moment, Techno turned back around and focused his attention back on Phil.
Phil was a bit damp from being out in the rain, but fortunately wasn't soaked like Techno since he'd done his best to cover Phil with his cloak until they'd reached the stables. Despite that, his face was pale (probably both from blood loss and the cold) and he was beginning to shiver, so it would be best to get him into a dry set of clothes soon.
The arrow embedded in Phil's shoulder was still an issue as well, but at least it wasn't bleeding anymore and it most likely wasn't infected, so it could be easily dealt with (Techno had treated his fair share of arrow wounds back in the days of serving in the King's army).
Techno sat there, lost in his thoughts as he gazed down on Phil's unconscious form, listening to the sound of the rain still pouring outside and hitting the roof of the stables.
A few minutes passed before Techno heard the sound of the stable doors opening, Ranboo appearing a few minutes later with a old leather medical bag in his hands, several items of clothing tucked underneath it.
"Did anyone see you?" Techno asked and was relieved when Ranboo shook his head.
"Ok, good. Now come here, I'm going to need your help."
It took a bit, but together, Techno and Ranboo managed to dislodge the arrow from Phil's shoulder and clean the wound before bandaging it up in haste.
Once that was dealt with, Techno stripped Phil out his damp clothes (kicking Ranboo out for this part) and placed him in some of the dry clothing Ranboo had brought. Techno took his own soaked outfit off as well and changed into the rest of the dry clothes, before he crouched down next to Phil to check over him once more.
Even now, Phil remained unconscious and it almost appeared as though he were simply sleeping. He looked strangely vulnerable laying there, not helped at all by the fact that the clothes he was wearing (Techno's) were massive on him, making him appear smaller than he was.
Like this, Phil was such a far cry from the infamous Angel of Death, it was no wonder that no one had found out his true identity until now.
But really, if Techno was being honest with himself, he wasn't surprised.
Of course Phil was the Angel of Death. Who else would have the inside knowledge he did, who else would be clever or capable enough to successfully steal from the rich, who else would be this kind-hearted and give what he stole to the poor, even risking his own life time after time to do so?
Philza, that's who.
Techno didn't even realize that his body had decided to act on his own, so lost in his own thoughts, until his hand reached out to brush some of Phil's long golden locks back from his face. He was about to pull back, when Phil (still unconscious) turned his head and leaned into Techno's touch, a small whine escaping from him.
Techno reacted on instinct, a low pleased rumble rising in his chest as he cupped Phil's face in his hand. He couldn't help but smile when Phil nuzzled into his palm and let out a soft purr before seemingly falling back into blissful sleep.
No, no one would ever suspect that Phil was the Angel of Death.
And Techno would make sure no one would ever find out.
Techno allowed himself to sit there and hold Phil for a few more minutes before he regretfully pulled his hand away. He stood up and walked out of the stall, where Ranboo was waiting for him just outside, concern etched onto his face.
"Go on, ask," Techno said with a sigh, having known this was inevitable as soon as Ranboo had seen Techno carrying Phil into the stables.
"That's the Angel of Death, right?" Ranboo asked, glancing briefly behind Techno where Phil was.
"Yes," Techno answered.
"You're not going to turn him in, are you?"
"I think you already know the answer to that," Techno stated and narrowed his eyes at the younger Alpha. "I suppose the question is now whether you'll turn him in or not."
"I won't!" Ranboo exclaimed, startling both himself and Techno. Ranboo cleared his throat and continued in a much softer voice, "I mean, I'm not going to tell anyone. If you're not going to turn him in, you probably have a good reason and I trust you."
"I'm not sure if my reasons are good per say, but I do have reasons," Techno muttered and sighed, leaning back against the stall door.
"He's an Omega, right?" Ranboo asked. There was no judgement or surprise in his voice, merely simple curiosity.
"Yes, he is. Philza of House Elytrian. They're renowned for producing Omegas, and Phil was one of them. He was engaged to an Alpha from another noble family, but he was disowned a while back for instead bonding with an Alpha beneath his social class," Techno explained with a shrug.
Understanding seemed to dawn on Ranboo's face, "You sound like you know him. Were...were you two-"
"I knew him once, a long time ago, but it doesn't matter now," Techno said, interrupting whatever train of thought Ranboo was about to go on, "Ranboo, I appreciate all you've done to help me so far, but I'm afraid there's one more thing I must ask of you."
Ranboo hesitated for a moment before he nodded, "Whatever it is, sir, I'll try my best!"
---
It was just another day at Church Prime and Jack was doing his nightly rounds, when he heard a knock at the front door. Which wasn't terribly unusual and he thought nothing of it as he went to go open them.
There standing on the front steps was an unusually tall Beta, holding a limp body in their arms.
"I-I just found him and he seems injured and I didn't know where else to go-" the Beta began to explain, panic in their voice.
"Calm down! Come inside and lemme see them," Jack interrupted to Beta and led them inside to one of the back rooms where they kept the spare beds.
The Beta set down the body onto one of the beds and Jack leaned down, beginning to inspect the unconscious figure.
It didn't take him long to realize he recognized them - it was Philza, the Angel of Mercy!
Jack turned around to speak to the Beta and hopefully get more information out of them, but they were already walking away.
"Oi!" Jack yelled and the Beta flinched before bolting, running out the door.
Jack ran after them but by the time he reached the front doors, the Beta was long gone and nowhere to be seen.
---
Techno watched from a distance, safely hidden behind a dense thicket nearby, as Ranboo brought Phil into Church Prime.
A few minutes later, Ranboo ran out of the building and made his way to where Techno was, joining his mentor in his hiding spot.
They both saw as the friar that had greeted Ranboo walked out, glancing around, but when he didn't see Ranboo, headed back inside and closed the front doors.
"What now, sir?" Ranboo asked after a few moments had passed.
"Now, we go back home and pretend this never happened," Techno answered simply and began to walk off in the direction back towards the manor, Ranboo quick to follow him.
Of course, that wasn't completely true. Techno knew that he couldn't just pretend none of this had happened or ignore the Angel of Death's true identity.
Already, he was planning his next move and knew exactly what he needed to do next.
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enbde · 3 years
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nct 127′s villain origin story
Taeil - Came second place in a combination beauty/talent show and is still so mad about it he has set his mind on nothing but murder from here on out. Comes to be known as The Masked Singer due to his proclivity towards wearing masks during his killing sprees. 
Johnny - Johnny was raised in the Old West by a herd of wild horses and when they were all rounded up and sold to circuses he vowed to never let the culprits live it down. He’s on a 200-year old revenge quest and his bloodlust has not abated even after slaughtering the people directly responsible while robbing their train. Everyday he sees injustices against horses and everyday his vigor is renewed. The evil part is that because he’s an old being he can’t tell the difference between real horses and animated horses so he kills a lot of kids. 
Taeyong - Was abandoned in the woods as a kid after his mom was killed by the mafia and got adopted by furries. He’s evil now because unfortunately the furries were also murdered by the furry mafia. He’s now severely unhinged and his revenge quest has taken a left turn into just showing up at every single furry convention and wreaking absolute havoc. Seriously, don’t dress up as a cat on Halloween--it’s how Ten met his unfortunate end. 
Yuta - He was just bored one day. Figured murder might spice up his life a bit. He was right. 
Doyoung - It was a conscious choice for Doyoung to become evil. He chose the lifestyle because, aesthetically, it’s just much cooler and it garners him a lot more traction on his Instagram. 
Jaehyun - Was thrown into a vat of acid when he was in high school and while it did not affect him externally by all appearances, it did seep under his skin and alter everything inside. His brain chemicals were entirely thrown out of whack by the force of it and now he is overly emotional and cries acid tears. Accidentally killed his entire family after they tried to cheer him up one day with a group hug and now he’s just given up on ever being the nice guy again. 
Jungwoo - Was birthed in the viscous goo of his home planet where the concept of evil simply does not exist. As such, he comes to Earth and his intentions are massively misconstrued. Has to chance to adapt to human standards but chooses not to because he doesn’t like paying for food and would much rather steal it from the hands of strangers. 
Mark + Haechan were completed with NCT Dream. But they are doubly evil by merit of being grouped together. 
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farmerbrown · 2 years
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Judy Wallman Biden, a professional genealogy researcher in South Dakota, was doing some personal work on her own family tree. She discovered that President Joe Biden’s great, great uncle, Remus Biden, was hanged for horse stealing and train robbery in Texas in 1889. Both Judy and President Biden share this common ancestor.The only known photograph of Remus shows him standing on the gallows in Galveston, Texas. On the back of the picture Judy obtained during her research is this inscription: "Remus Biden horse thief, sent to Galveston State Prison 1885, escaped 1887, robbed the Galveston & Southern Flyer six times Caught by Texas Rangers detectives, convicted and hanged in 1889."So Judy recently e-mailed the President for information about their great, great uncle, Remus and a few days ago President Biden's staff sent this response back:Remus Biden was a famous cowboy in Texas in the 1880s. His business empire grew to include acquisition of valuable equestrian assets and intimate dealings with the Galveston & Southern railroad. Beginning in 1885, he devoted several years of his life to government service, finally taking leave to resume his dealings with the railroad. In 1887, he was a key player in a vital investigation run by the renowned Texas Rangers. In 1889, Remus passed away suddenly during an important civic function held in his honor when the platform upon which he was standing collapsed.Now THAT, folks, is how it's done in politics!
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the-daily-tizzy · 2 years
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Biden's Background
IT’S ALL ABOUT THE SPIN. Judy Wallman Biden, a professional genealogy researcher in South Dakota, was doing some personal work on her own family tree. She discovered that President Joe Biden’s great, great uncle, Remus Biden, was hanged for horse stealing and train robbery in Texas in 1889. 
Both Judy and President Biden share this common ancestor.
The only known photograph of Remus shows him standing on the gallows in Galveston, Texas.
On the back of the picture, Judy obtained during her research is this inscription:
”Remus Biden horse thief, sent to Galveston State Prison 1885, escaped 1887, robbed the Galveston & Southern Flyer six times Caught by Texas Ranger's detectives, convicted and hanged in 1889."
Ms. Wallman-Biden e-mailed the President for information about their great, great uncle, Remus, and a few days ago President Biden's staff sent this response back:
Remus Biden was a famous cowboy in Texas in the 1880s.
His business empire grew to include the acquisition of valuable equestrian assets and intimate dealings with the Galveston & Southern railroad.
Beginning in 1885, he devoted several years of his life to government service, finally taking leave to resume his dealings with the railroad.
In 1887, he was a key player in a vital investigation run by the renowned Texas Rangers.
In 1889, Remus passed away suddenly during an important civic function held in his honor when the platform upon which he was standing collapsed. Now THAT, folks, is how it's done in politics!
[Renowned  Forensic Engineer, Jedediah Vanderbrook examined the apparatus and opined that the platform was safe, but the safety strap had been INADVERTANTLY attached to MR. BIDEN;S NECK INSTEAD OF HIS WAIST. Officially classified as “Shit Happens.”]
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sleepdeprivedqueer · 2 years
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I See You: Chapter Four
Javier Escuella x oc
Warnings: Mature, Micah being Micah
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A few days passed, during that time she has became small friends with John, Hosea. Becoming great friends with the ladies, she was surprised to find a child. During those days, she finally learned the group's name, the Dutch Van Der Linde gang. It was no wonder why some of the names sounded so familiar. Some of the men were kind.
Lenny was young and filled with wild free spirit, ready to take on the world. Bill was a drunken idiot, never met the man, but apparently he was known for saying racial slurs. Charles joined six months ago, calm and collective, he was kind and understanding. Arthur was a loyal tall man, he seemed to be the right hand man. Hosea was the oldest, the father figure for everyone, learned both Arthur and John how to read. Micah was the worst apparently, from what all the ladies say, he also joined six months ago, being both racist and sexist. Javier, very interesting, a flirty fellar, the ladies gossiped about how he had a collection of knives, saying how he probably had a knife kink.
The ladies seemed surprised that he hasn't tried anything with Michelle. Especially since the poncho and sumbrero, not onlt that but she knew spanish. From the info from Hosea, he had to flee from Mexico because of a woman. She got nothing else but that. Karen, one of the ladies, told her about how he slept with Abigail before Jack was born. Abigail didn't want to talk about it, muttering about how he was a creep.
Michelle could get where she came from, one day he came in and sat in a chair. Smoking a cigarette, but giving some small talk to a girl named Tilly. Then the chikd, Jack, talked to him and asked if he could play him a song when they got off the mountain. The creep part was proven whem he stared at her, saying nothing, just staring at her. It didn't hit her until he muttered something about 'Del Lobos', it made sense.
Michelle barely got a wink of sleep, Sadie keeping her company throughout the night. Keeping her calm, cooling her shoulder, giving her whiskey to numb the pain. The whole night she was worried that Flaco would come by and shoot up the place. The winds howling, the hushed noises of the horses, the fire crackling.
Looking up at the ceiling, some priest like dude entered the cabin. Sitting next to John, Sadie was still beside her. Fixing the cover at times when she shivered. Checking every few hours to check if she had a fever or some kind of sickness. Taking deep calm breaths, eyes closed, eyelids heavy, body fully relaxed. She felt like dead weight, heavy, she has been eating canned sweet corn. With the supplies being low she had to spare things, but she had food on Splash.
She wanted to see Splash herself, missing the blue mare. Stealing her hats, messing up her hair, stealing pieces of her clothes. All the fun things the both of them did. A thought came to her mind, where was she going to go next? Her shoulder was wounded, Flaco was hunting her down, Pinkertons and bounty hunters may come up here. The only answer she guessed was too go where the gang went. Especially with Sadie being here.
The inside of the cabin was lit up a bit, the door was opened. Michelle was too tired to care who it was, drained of her energy, eyelids heavy, mind foggy. Everything was drained out, sounds around her was blurred, the whiskey must of been aged. It was strong, so it wouldn't be a wonder if she was a bit drunk.
A deep voice sounded woozy, it made her feel dizzy. It felt as if time wasn't a thing, she forgot what she was thinking quickly, then forgetting thay she forgot something. It was weird, more voices talked, the only thing she could understand was O'Driscolls and a train being robbed. The call of her enemy made her shift and she tried to sit up, but she was pushed back down.
"Get some rest Michelle, try to get some sleep," Sadie whispered, her cold hand grazing her forehead. Checking if she had a fever, "we may be able to leave today, or tomorrow."
Opening her heavy eyes to look at her friend, seeing the gang leader and Arthur standing behind her. She weakly nodded, closig her eyes again, focusing on her breathing again. Soon, sleep finally overtook her, peacefully, her mind went to rest.
"So Sadie, where do you think you'll go after all of this?"
Michelle slowly woke, groaning a bit, no longer feeling dizzy, the worlds sound being normal once again.
"I don't know, without my, well, I don't know. Well, for now, I have to take care of this poor soul, she hasn't been treated right for the past few years. She once told me she had a brother who went down in Mexico for money. Or something like that," Sadie answered quietly, focusing back to Michelle.
"Well, I guess it's good to know she has family, it's a shame we're wanted in the direction that's closer to the border of Mexico. Well, we don't mind if the both of you stay, as long as you can work and help the camp. You'll be fine," the older lady, Miss. Grimshaw said.
"Javier seemed really confused, or irritated last night, atleast something like that. I wonder what happened last night," a young female asked, Tilly was her name.
"Oh, he's probably sad about the fact that she may have a lover. Or maybe she won't take his flirts," a lady who liked to gossip and make dirty jokes, Karen, laughed. Michelle cracked an eye open, looking at the group of ladies around the fire.
Sadie shook her head, heavy bags stood out on her face. Taking a deep breath and biting her tounge as she sat up. It didn't hurt as much as before, but it still hurt, a lot. Miss. Grimshaw tried to push her down, but she only tried even harder, so she just let her sit up. Cursing under her breath, stretching her limbs, she has no idea how long she has been out for. But whiskey was needed, the pain was starting to throb.
Throwing her legs over the edge, taking it easy, feeling a bit dizzy. Miss. Grimshaw tried to keep her steady.
"Woah, take it easy, you need to rest. You've been moving quiet a lot, despite how your wound is," she huffed.
"Guess I'm used to doing bullshit when wounded, it wouldn't be the first time," Michelle chuckled, "besides, I need to check on Splash. She'll start throwing a tantrum any day now, not only that but."
Michelle stood up, stumbling a lot, but she got steady.
"I have food and clothes in the saddle satchel, and a blanket."
Miss. Grimshaw huffed, not liking the idea of her moving around.
"Alright, listen, how about a deal. You can go see your horse and get some fresh clothes and food. You can even help with her following the wagons when we leave. BUT," she loudly said, "after that you are not allowed to do anything else, ya hear!"
As much as she wanted to say no, the ladies have said how bitchy she can really get, too the point of being smacked. Hair pulled, screamed, ear pulled, full out crazy ass bitch. So, she agreed, making sure she had enough clothing on to keep herself warm. It took a bit of stumbling to leave the cabin, but she made it. But what she wasn't expecting to be blinded by both the sun, and the sun shining on the snow.
Cursing as she closed the door behind her, walking to the barn. A sound of some kind of horse drew her attention, it sounded like it came from behind one of the buildings. Not thinking anything about, contuining on, stumbling a bit once again. Once again, the horse called out, heavy hooves, now she was starting to get nervous.
The snow crunching underneath her boots, the barn getting closer. So happy to see Splash, her hand landed on one of the doors. That's when the the heavy footsteps walked up behind her. Someone tall standing behind her, fear freezing her in her spot. She was basically done for, she would be dragged back to the cabin, locked up in the cabin. Never be able to see the outside world again.
"Michelle."
She bit her lip trying to hide her whimpering voice. Flaco sighed.
"Michelle, uhm, Héctor, he wanted me to give this too you," he said, her heart sped up at the name. Héctor. She hasn't talked to him since, since they seperated.
"H-How can I trust you, I can't fight back and you know it. You're just going to drag me back, just don't hurt these people. They're kind people, please Flaco," Michelle whimpered.
"Michelle, I, I admit, dammit. I apologize for my actions of letting them treat you horrible like that. They didn't, they didn't care for you, but those others that were there. They were coming up here to deliver this to you. I admit, I'm a fool, an idiot. You don't have to forgive me, but, please, be careful, and try not to fall for too much men."
Flaco's voice was guilty, sorrowful, sad, slowly she turned to look at him. There in his hand, it was an outfit, black and silver, a new sumbrero too. Hesitantly, she took it.
"Do you mean it Flaco, are you really sorry?" Michelled asked, a soft wind blew as the sun quickly started to set.
The sound of fabric rustled, something heavy was added too the weight of the clothing.
"Be careful kid, Héctor might go on a killing spree if he finds out I let you go out and you get hurt," he said, patting her head. He turned and walked away, whistling for his Shire.
A knife, his hunting knife, she gave him his own hunting knife. She didn't know what to say, she couldn't anyway, he was gone in a quick minute, it was getting darker. Opening up the barn door to be met with a very happy mare.
The men were back, so now everyone was packing up, the wagons were free from the snow. Taking some of the weight off of Splash and putting it in a bag. Her canned goods handed to people that she thought needed it. Michelle didn't let anyone touch her clothes, especially the newest one, the hunting knife wrapped up safely. Held very closely to her.
Lenny was being a gentleman and did help her with some things, already choosing her a place on a wagon. Although she wanted to help some more, she remembered the deal with Miss. Grimshaw. But that didn't stop Micah from being Micah. Making dirty flirty jokes, how nice the top of the skirt squeezed the top against the dip of her waist.
"Aye! C'mon get to work and leave her alone! You dumbass," it was Javier, giving him a slight push. Micah wanted to protest but the yell from Miss. Grimshaw made him just smirk and walked off, giving Michelle a wink.
For the first time, she got to see Miss. Grimshaw's scary side, her yelling at both men and women to get them working. Michelle sat towards the edge of the wagon, holding Splash's reins in her hand. The knife in her other hand, holding it very close. People were starting to get into wagons, Sadie joining Michelle along with John. The poor sorry man was weak, not moving much.
"Ah, Boaz es mejor que pay attention, somos un paquete," looking up from the wrapped knife to feel the wagon move.
Javier and his stallion trailing behind, he looked tired, bags under his eyes. Despite the riders apperance, his horse seems to be trying to show off. Flaring his nostrils and tail up high. Splash did not seem amused by it, just trotting behind the wagon. Her bangs getting infront of her eyes, Splash will need a trim soon. The Lenny kid trotted besides Javier, looking at the saddle on the trotting mare.
"Hey, ma'am, I have a question if you don't mind me asking?" Lenny asked.
"Sure, ask away."
"Your saddle, why is it like that?" He pointed to the second pair of stirrups.
"Oh, those, it's for an easier and faster sprint. It makes it easier for the both of us to race or sprint to something. It's the same thing with the second rein, it's for an easier trot, gallop, canter, and well sprint. The halter across above the nose with the extra leather strap somehow helps with her breathing. It steadies it, she was expensive, so you have to spend money on expensive things to help cope," Michelle answered, watching as her mare happily got into a comfortable trot.
Lenny made a 'huh' noise in intrest, watching as she had no trouble trotting through the snow. Despite the other horses. But so, the trip down the mountains started, it took two days to get down off the mountains. It was very beautiful, it's been so long since she's seen anything other than mountains and snow. So when she saw the first sight of green grass, she got excited.
After they made it down a little bit more, Dutch told Micah and Lenny to go ahead and see if they were going to get ambushed. So now, Javier was the only one trotting behind the wagon, his horse trying to get close to Splash.
Javier turned him away, now understanding why the 'pay attention' thing was repeated to the stallion.
They were now crossing a river, Javier, going ahead to stand on a rock, watching the wagons go by. Splash wasn't used to warm like water, so whined and trotted with her legs high in the air. Michelle bringing it too Sadie who was down, it made her laugh a bit too see her strange reaction. Arthur and Hosea behind them, as they got out, it seemed that they were having trouble.
"Get us out of the stream. Quickly but calm," Hosea told Arthur, the horses seeming to be having trouble as well. They finally got out but stopped, skidding a bit.
Arthur let out a frustrated groan.
"Everything okay back there?" Bill asked.
"Does everything look alright!?" He groaned as he jumped off.
"Well, what's going on?" Javier asked as he moved Boaz over.
"Gaah I broke the god damn wheel!" He yelled, throwing his arms around. Michelle watched, taking this time to give Splash some treats. Giving her some ear scratches and some soft pats.
"You need some help?" Javier asked, stopping his handsome stallion near him.
"Nah, I reckoned we can handle it," Hosea said, Charles went over to help as well. Bill hummed and nodded, moving the wagon on, Javier following.
Michelle felt as if the area was safe enough to let go of the reins, well that was until the wagon sped up. Getting Splash into a gallop, Javier followed beside the wagon. It was quiet, huffing as Michelle worried about her mare. The horses have been moving quiet a lot.
Bill seemed to be scared, looking around, making Javier laugh, settling back down against the dark wooden wagon.
"What!?" Bill yelled.
"Ah, look at you, afraid that some natives are gonna ambush us and that you'll have to use your marine tatics to take 'em out. Eh?" Javier joked, his voice very playful. Michelle was interested.
"Hey! I'd watch it if I were you! You don't know how savage they can be!" Bill yelled back, Javier laughed. They contuined on, crossing a closed in bridge, Javier falling back trailing back behind the wagon.
A smirk was still on his face, he looked over to see Sadie sound asleep, John seemed to be asleep, and Michelle watching her mare. Once they were out of the bridge, he went back beside the wagon, they followed the previous wagon trail.
Taking a look to the surroundings, it was pretty, it felt like spring, like a summer morning. It felt nice, atleast she wasn't freezing her tits off. The Dakota river was lively as she remembered people saying it was, very pretty too. Taking every chance to look around at the area, it was so pretty.
They started going up a hill, the trees were starting to fade and it now was starting to look like plains. Oh she had the strongest urge to jump onto Splash's back and speed past the wagon. To run through the plains, find herds of horses. Mustangs running wild, Bison living peacefully, being able to see beyond miles and miles of land.
It was all a dream that was going to come true. But it was quickly ruined when she remembered the deal she made with the angry bitchy old lady. Splash seemed sad as well. They went down a shaded path, tree branches blocking the sun. It looked and felt amazing, she wished she had a camera to take pictures of all of it.
"This seems to be the place!" Javier chirped, taking the lead down the overgrown path. Bill followed with the wagon, finally slowing down.
Softly nudging Sadie awake, telling her the news.
"We're here, with the two injured fools!" Bill announced. Biting her tounge to not speak back, getting down herself, as the Lenny gentlemen kid came by. Bill came by as well, getting John out, the sorry fool looked dead.
Splash nudged Michelle, the knife in her hand, holding it close to her chest. Splash sniffed her shoulder, playing with her hair and stuff.
Getting her own tent off of the wagon, but she didn't know where to set up. Despite the playful urge, she was nervous, a little afraid of asking. So taking a gamble and choosing the area where the back of her tent would be facing the cliff. A pretty one too.
A stone sat in the clearing, it was pretty, nice and calming.
"Hey there ma'am, need some help?" It was the Lenny kid.
"Uhm, sure."
Michelle was confused on why he was so kind to her. She understood that the time they first met was when stumed intk the cabin, very cold. So she gave him her blanket cover, just hunching over the fire for warmth. But that was about it, but she gussed it was better than having an enemy.
He did most of the work, which was pretty sweet of him. They had a spare chest for her to use for her clothes. Carefully, very carefully did she get her clothes, putting then folded neatly. Putting her sombreros stacked atop one another. Over the chest the keep them clean and off of the floor. Her should still hurt, luckily right now she was the only one who could drink to numb her pain.
Using most of her medicine on the ride down the mountain, so whiskey was her only medicine at the moment. Well, to drink until the pain was gone.
Another wagon pulled up, with was Arthur, Hosea, and Charles, Javier jumping off of the back. They started to walk through the camp, Arthur, Hosea, and Dutch talking. Them slowly making their way to a work in progress tent.
"Alright listen all of you, we're are down off those mountains, we have left the past behind. It's tike that we start making new money!" Dutch announced, Hosea standing beside him, everyone was starting to gather around to listen.
"There's a town, not far from here called Valentine, a bunch of drunkards and fools from what I remember," Hosea said, making hand motions to where the town was located.
Dutch went on about how to keep a low profile, to calm down and make money safetly.
"And remember, whatever money you make," he set down a maroon box, "the camp gets it's slice. Now all of you, go out there and make some money, and remember, keep a low profile!"
It was gettig late, Michelle herself was tired, going into the woods to get changed into some night clothes. It didn't feel right, but it was the best she could do. Wearing a simple white plain shirt over her bloomers, or womens underclothes. Despite the fact that she doesn't wear women underclothes that often. Making her way over back to her tint, catching the glare of Micah, a gag made it's way up her throat.
Setting the dirty dress folded neatly in a pile of other dirty clothes. Rolling her shoulders as she laid down, pulling a cover over her as the extra on padded her shoulder. It was a tired and energy draining day, muscels ached from sitting for so long. But that ache was set aside, relaxing as her body fell into it sleep.
The knife that Flaco gave her, hidden under the pillow her head was resting on. Feeling homesick about the snowy mountains.
Chapter navigation
I See You: Chapter One
I See You: Chapter Two
I See you: Chapter Three
I See You: Chapter Five
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iamvegorott · 3 years
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Written by Shadowkitten:
Here’s my notes for my old Wild West au feel free to comb through it for ideas
outlaw au: Wild West au with dark the Sheriff of a small town and anti the outlaw head of an outlaw gang.
Town
Dark - sheriff
Wilford - deputy
Jackie- rookie who wants to be a law man
Jj - bartender at saloon
Google - runs the bank
Marvin- saloon performer/owner
Yan - works as a waitress in saloon
Bing and bim work at the general store
Edward - town doctor
Host- mayor/ runs an inn
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Anti- leader of the outlaws
[ anti is the leader of the outlaws, he grew up in outlaw life, orphaned at a young age anti grew up in a traveling band of bandits and swindlers, at 16 a heist went wrong and he got injured with his slashed throat. His old gang left him to die, he was found by chase and a young henrick who saved his life after he heals he stays with henrick and chase whom he finds out are on the run as well. In the years leading up to the story antis gang takes on other members, other runaways and swindlers even some kids. they tried living peaceful for the first few years but after being attacked multiple times by bounty hunters and rival bandits they earned a rather bloody reputation. Anti has killed before he prefers his knives over gunfights, he is skilled in knife throwing. Anti rides a grey and black mustang Named Altair, a wild bratty horse who bucks riders he doesn’t like, he likes anti the best a Robbie second best, he dislikes henrick and disapproves of dark at first.]
Phantom and mare - twin circus runaways who have a flare for the dramatic [ phantom and mare were con artist from the get go, they lived with a traveling circus for the first half of their lives, using the fact of being twins to their advantage phantom and mare would perform sideshow acts as well as main stage shows, the shows would consist of superstitious ‘twinsie’ acts (finishing each other’s thoughts, tricks, appearing to swap items etc) the twins also pickpocketed while they preformed, while one twin kept the crowd entertained, the other worked his way through the crowd snatching coin purses and jewelry. Unfortunately the greedy ringleader demanded most the profit from the performers so the twins were always strapped for cash. One night after earning(and stealing) a small fortune for themselves phantom and mare decided to disobey the ringmaster, almost instantly their money was taken and they were kicked out of the circus with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Angered about the treatment they’d been on the receiving end for the better half of their lives phantom and mare plotted revenge. The twins followed the circus to its next location and waited til nightfall, once they were sure the cost was clear, phantom and mare split up, phantom looted and stole almost all the money the ringmaster had as well as recovered their stolen property while mare poisoned the ringmaster in his sleep. The two then road off on two circus trained horses named ruby and cyclone. They became two notorious outlaws, robbing stagecoaches and bank cars, they had a code to never rob or kill the poor or innocent, but railroads tycoon were neither of those so they were often the twins target. One day they found themselves in a lot of hot water, wounded and running from a bounty hunter, they took a wrong turn and found themselves starring at a dead end below a tall cliff. As the hunter got closer they braced them selves for the end when a shot rang out. Opening their eyes they watched as the bounty hunter dropped dead in front of them. Looking above at the top of the cliff was anti, his pistol drawn and smoking. Soon the twins found themselves surrounded by antis posey, their wounds being tended to by henrick. After hearing their story anti offered them a spot in his band of runaway misfits and they excepted. ]
Phantom is a skilled illusionist and handy with throwing knives, he and anti often trade tricks and have contests between them. Phantom is a smooth talker and a well seasoned trickster he is an expert poker player even tho he cheats every once and a while. Phantoms strongest when mare is by his side
(Phantom rides a redish brown mare named ruby, a cocky horse with circus training, she is one of the fastest of the outlaw horses and the most nimble)
Mare is a gifted gunslinger and trick rider, he’s a fast agile acrobatic person with a gifted singing voice, mare often preformed music for the circus and now sings the best campfire songs. Mare is slightly stronger than phantom often doing more of the dirty work in their partnership but he is no less clever than his twin. He’s hard to catch and crafty in a fight.
He is even stronger with phantom by his side
( mare rides a blue roan mustang named cyclone, a brawny horse with circus training he is an athletic horse known for his jumping tricks and aloof attitude)
Henrick - is the unofficial doctor of the outlaws, [ loosing his parents at a young age henrick was sent to live with his alcoholic uncle, to escape the abuse henrick apprenticed at the local physician’s Office, there he found that he loved to heal people and decided to study medicine, his uncle however made it painfully clear he disapproved and often took his anger out on henrick, one day a man by the name of chase rides into town and gets a job cleaning the barbershop/doctors office, henrick befreinds chase over the corse of a month or so until one day he hears a a rumor that chase is actually a criminal, henrick goes to confront chase but finds him getting ready to leave town, he learns the truth about how chase was falsely accused by his awful ex wife and decides to leave his cruel uncle and continue studding medicine with chase. Henrick rides a white and grey pinto mare named nightingale
She is a fast motherly horse, she can be a great judge of character and very stubborn if she knows something is wrong ]
Mad- a inventor who travels with the outlaws
Chase- looks after the group and the two kids second in command [chase was a rancher who ranched horses and cattle, he had a wife and two kids. His ranch was located is a small western town called dry gulch, thanks to a drought and cattle Rustlers his ranch was going to be reclaimed by the greedy banker of the town and his wife was having an affair with the corrupt sherif, one day while he was tending the cattle his son was injured by one of the bulls and died from his wounds, chase was devastated. Stacy (his wife) blamed him for the sons death, she claimed he was a murder who sent the bull after their son (she wanted to get out of her marriage to him so she could marry the Sheriff) the corrupt Sheriff agreed with her and said for chase to leave by sundown or be arrested for murder. Chase packed his bags and hitched his horse up then road out of town for good, even though he did exactly as the sheriff said the corrupt sheriff put up wanted posters for his arrest. After leaving chase started to hop from town to town taking on what ever work he could find and leaving the moment any news would spread about him would surface. In one of the towns he worked at a barber shop/ local doctors where he met a young henrick who was apprenticing in the medical field and his abusive alcoholic uncle. Chase befriended henrick , helping him with patients and making sure he was safe from the uncles drunken episodes. One day just like the other towns rumors about chase started to spread so he got packed up, right before he left henrick confronted him about the rumors, learned the truth about chase and decided to leave with him to pursue his knowledge and one day become a real doctor.
Chase rides a chestnut appaloosa mustang named whiskey, whiskey is a gentle horse he lets just about anyone ride him but loves chase the most, chase raised whiskey from a colt back on his old ranch.]
Blank and Robbie, two kids they adopted into the group to get them away from a hard life
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Dark runs a small town in the western frontier, it’s just a place to pass through but everyone who stays finds it home. Darks reputation as a heartless bounty hunter and Wilford gunfight if skills keeps most the trouble out of town
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fedeipox · 3 years
Text
The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 8 (3/3)
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Part 1 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/643045553196908544/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-8-13
Part 2 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/643770480290119680/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-8-23
Chapter 8 (3/3) - Saints and Sinners
Words: 2,7k
While walking back to Uncle, Emily kept studying the little photo-camera. It was lighter than she expected, and smaller too, considering all the articulate device it contained. She asked Arthur if she could keep it, thinking about taking photos of people in camp. 
“Will you bring me with you when you go looking for these people?” she asked taking another look at the photos.
“I don’t know if I’ll go” Arthur cut short.
“But… you promised…”
“Did I say the words ‘I promise to go’?”
Emily huffed. She wanted to go, she wanted to meet those people, and most of all Black Belle, see why she was so famous. 
“If you go, will you bring me with you?”
“I don’t know.”
“The writer said you have to take photos, and you just gave me the camera, so I guess I have to come with you.”
“Yeah, yeah, right.”
He sounded strange, like he had suddenly become of few words, but Emily couldn’t understand the reason of that change and she didn’t want to bother him even further, so she just focused on the photos and followed him back to where Uncle was sleeping. Arthur sat down on the bench right next to him, intentionally waking him up with a jump.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“We met a man who gave me this” said Emily showing him the camera.
“And also these. Do you know them, Uncle?” she asked showing him the photos.
He looked at the four pictures carefully with a low “hmm” coming from his closed lips and only when he saw the picture of the man called Emmet Granger his eyes opened and sparkled of a strange light.
“I know this one!” he laughed.
“Really?” exclaimed Emily as a wave of curiosity run through her.
“Yeah, he was quite known back in the days. He also had a bounty on his head for a while. Then he received the federal pardon. Never understood why.”
“How you know him?” asked Arthur.
“Have you met him?” asked Emily.
Uncle’s mind went back of at least thirty years, to a younger self, and to a younger Granger, and to a fairly long hunt. He had met him, he had worked with him, he had been betrayed by him, and he had almost being killed by him.
“Yes, he came across me in a saloon, once upon a time” he lied.
“In which town?” asked Emily again.
“Nah, I don’t believe you. You have no idea of who this feller is” said Arthur shaking his head and smiling skeptic.
Uncle chuckled and handed the photos back to Emily, who looked at him disappointed.
“But… I want to know…”
Emily would never know the story of how Uncle met Emmet Granger, because right at that moment Mary-Beth showed up with incredible news. She told them she had heard about a train loaded with money and valuables out there just waiting for being robbed. 
Emily wasn’t enthusiastic at the idea to rob some people, some good people, but she didn’t had the chance to express her disapproval because Arthur asked where Karen and Tilly were. 
Apparently, they were trying to steal from some men. Karen was probably at the hotel, while Tilly…
“Oh, there’s Tilly over there” said Mary-Beth pointing to a figure dragged into an alley by a man. “That does not look ideal.”
Arthur immediately ran after them, ready to rescue poor Tilly from that man, but Emily’s mind went to Karen.
“What if Karen is in danger too?” she asked to Mary-Beth.
“Arthur will go look for her.”
Emily shook her head. 
“What if it he’ll arrive too late?”
“What do you mean?”
Emily couldn’t understand why she was worrying so much about Karen, but she was, and she wanted to go looking for her.
“I’m going” she just said before heading to the hotel, and as she walked she thought about how useless she was going to be if Karen was truly in a difficult situation. She was little, skinny, feeble, Karen had definitely more chances by herself, but still, Emily was pushed by something, some intuition that was whispering in her ear to walk faster and reach that bloody hotel. 
“Hi, is my friend here? She’s blonde, curvy, sarcastic…”
“She went upstairs with a man” the man behind the counter informed her.
“Do you mind if I go?” 
But she didn’t wait for a reply and she was already up the third step when the man asked if she needed help. 
“A friend of mine is coming to help me” she answered without thinking.
“They are in 2B” the man shouted from below.
Emily run to the end of the corridor where she found the room 2B and knocked at the door. There were voices coming from the other side, but they didn’t sound delighted. 
“Karen” she called.
No answer. The two voices became louder and angrier. Emily took the doorknob and turned it, but it was locked.
“Karen!” she called again.
There was a noise, like something heavy thrown on the floor.
“KAREN!”
Emily tried to force the door in some way, she even tried to push it with her shoulder, but it was too solid for her little strength.
“Move!”
Arthur’s voice made her jump and she took a couple of steps backwards just in time when he kicked the door that ceded without problems. He rushed inside and she walked in right after him. 
As soon as he crossed the threshold, Arthur threw himself on the man who had hit Karen so hard that she had fallen on the floor, but though without experience the man was quick enough to dodge his fist, hit him and push him against the wall. 
Emily had no idea of how to help him and looked around her searching for something she could use as a weapon. Without thinking she took the heavy bronze statue she found on the dresser and with both hands she hit the man on the back of his head as hard as she could.
Funny how a body falls on the ground when without consciousness, it is like all the bones in it immediately disappear, and it melts like a pudding. When the man fell like that, Emily became aware of what she had done and she widened her eyes in an expression of terror.
“Oh my God” she whispered moving her eyes from the body to Arthur.
“Is he dead?” she squeaked.
“No. Come on, let’s go. Karen are you okay?” asked Arthur helping the girl standing up. 
“Yes, thank you, Arthur.”
Emily couldn’t move her eyes from the man on the ground from whose head now was coming out something dark, red and slimy. The only sight of the blood made her face turn white and with a panicked voice she yelled: “oh God, he’s bleeding!”
She was pushed out of the room and when Arthur tried to take the bronze statue from her hands she realized she was holding it so tight that her knuckles had become white.
“Are you sure he isn’t dead?” she asked again. The idea of having killed another man, a rather innocent one this time, made her voice shake. 
“Yeah, you just knocked him out. Now we need to go before he wakes up” said Arthur pulling the statue from her hands and pushing her towards the stairs.
Emily walked, but she was insecure on her feet. Her head was still a little dizzy because of the adrenaline she had felt before. It had been like a shock, forcing her to hit that man. There was definitely something wrong with her: until some days before she would have never done something like that, but now she had, and what was scaring her most of all, was that it seemed she couldn’t control it, like she couldn’t control her actions. 
They walked out in the street and back to Uncle and Mary-Beth, when something else happened. There was a man, shouting from the other side of the road and telling Arthur he was sure he had seen him in Blackwater. He tried to play dumb at the beginning, but the man was sure he wasn’t mistaken, and so Arthur jumped on the first horse he saw and chased the rat.
Of course all this was like a far away happening for Emily, like something that was going on in the background of her mind, like she was watching a movie but without paying attention to it, because all her thoughts and all her senses were involved in trying to understand what was wrong with her.
“Are you okay?” asked Mary-Beth noticing her being miles away. 
“Yes, yes” she murmured and for the first time she really didn’t know what to say.
“Come on, girls. Let’s go back to camp” said Uncle.
The five of them reached the wagon and then took the road back. 
“Did something happen inside that hotel?” asked Mary-Beth still looking at Emily with a concerned expression.
“I�� I hit the man.”
“And I thank you for that” said Karen massaging her cheek. 
“I might have killed him!” she exclaimed outraged.
“So what? The bastard deserved that.”
“Why you went inside? Arthur was taking care of it” said Mary-Beth.
“I don’t know. It felt like I had to do it. I wish I didn’t” she added with a deep sigh.
The thoughts kept hunting her until they reached camp and also for the entire evening. Was she changing? She didn’t feel different: the idea of robbing someone was still repulsive, the idea of killing was even worse, and she didn’t believe that violence was the right way, ever. But still, she had done those things, all of them. 
It was at that moment that she started to realize that theory and practice, ideal and real life, are two very different things. She could have had all the good ideas and intentions that she wanted, but when danger had come, she needed to do what she had to in order to survive. 
She was still debating inside her head about good and evil, when something came to her mind, or it’d be better to say, someone came to her mind. She had completely forgot about him because he was more like a shadow in camp than a flesh and bone person, so rarely she had seen him. He was a man of church, a man of God, someone who dealt with saints and sinners everyday, so who better than him to absolve her.
Emily had never been much of a religious person: she believed in something grater than her, in a greater being, and when she was young she used to go to church on Sundays with her parents, but nothing more. No prayers before going to sleep, no repentance for her sins - not that she had needed that in the past - no strong religious beliefs. And yet, now she felt that need, the need to understand if she had taken the wrong path.
“Good evening, reverend” she said as she sat down next to the man.
As usual, he was seated in a remote part of camp with a bottle in his hands and his eyes lost.
“Evening” he simply said looking at her for a second before getting lost again.
“Can I talk with you for a moment?”
He came back to reality again, frowning at Emily like he didn’t believe she actually wanted to talk to him. Usually, no-one wanted to talk to him.
“I-I… you might have heard I had an… unpleasant accident with some O’Driscolls a-and… I mean…”
She stopped, breathing heavily and not knowing where to start.
“I have killed a man, reverend” she spit out. “And I have stolen, or at least I helped Javier stealing some money, and today… today I’ve used violence against another man, an innocent man.”
The reverend kept looking at her with his furrowed brow and those dark eyes, but it was like he wasn’t actually seeing her.
“What I want to know is: I know the things I’ve done are bad, but I’ve done them for a reason, I’ve done them because I had to do them, but at the same time they are inexcusable.”
Again, no answer from the reverend, only that strange look. Was he judging her?
“Can you help me?”
The reverend’s forehead suddenly relaxed, his eyes became sweet, his expression understanding and pitiful. 
“Oh my dear Margaret, of course I will help you” he said with a soothing voice.
“M-Margaret?”
“Meet me at dawn near the station” he whispered right before standing up on his unstable legs and stumbling away.
Emily huffed. It seemed like no-one could help her. Everybody there kept telling her that what she had done was right, while she thought she was loosing herself somehow. Who she should have listened to? And the reverend, the only person she thought would be useful, was completely gone. Maybe he was crazy?
...
The next morning she woke up early. That night she had had dreams about her father, confusing things that made her think about her family and made her so sad she couldn’t go back to sleep. She stood up, went to Pearson for her shouted ‘good morning!’, took something to eat and wandered around.
“Morning Hosea” she murmured walking in front of the man standing near the fire with a cup of coffee in his hands.
“Morning. You woke up early” he stated.
“You too.”
“I usually do. What woke you?”
Emily sighed looking away and her eyes met the figure of Arthur, standing from his cot and stretching his back. His face was different that morning: he had a big blue stain on his left cheek and the eye was slightly swollen.
“Dreams” she said, but she didn’t specify what kind of dreams, and her mind was too preoccupied with Arthur to focus on that matter.
Hosea of course didn’t need any specification, he immediately understood and he wanted to ask her about it, maybe say something comforting, but he didn’t had the chance.
“Has anybody seen the reverend?” asked Miss Grimshaw’s loud voice.
She was walking in their direction and even though she was still fairly distant from them, they could perfectly hear her screaming. 
“Anybody? Morning Arthur, have you seen Swanson?” she asked reaching his tent.
Arthur murmured something that Emily couldn’t perfectly understand from where she was, but that sounded a lot like:“no, why? You think he’s in danger?”
Emily’s mind went back to the night before and the weird conversation she had had with that crazy reverend.
“Hosea” she called the man’s attention. “Yesterday the reverend said something about a station.”
“A station?” 
“Yes, I have no idea what he was talking about. He called me Margaret” she added in a perplexed whisper.
Hosea smiled and shook his head and then he called Arthur who drew closer without the need to be asked twice. As he approached them, Emily focused on his face: it seemed he had received a punch, and also from his way of walking she could tell there was something wrong with him.
“What happened to you?” she asked with concern. 
“A bar fight.”
“A bar fight? When?”
“Yesterday evening after I went back to Valentine.”
She had the instinct to reach out a hand and touch the bruise, but she killed that instinct thinking about how embarrassing it was going to be, especially with Hosea standing there, so instead she kept looking at him with those worried puppy eyes.
“It was at the Smithfield, wasn’t it?” she asked and her voice took an angry inflection.
“How do you know?”
“That place is like hell.”
“Swanson must be at the Flatneck Station, Arthur” Hosea informed him. 
“You think I have to go have a look?”
“You should. It’s Swanson, who knows what he’s up to.”
“What’s his problem?” asked Emily.
“The one every religious man goes through: lost of faith” said Hosea.
“And the alcohol” added Arthur.
“Yes, that too.”
Emily thought she didn’t have to be surprised by Swanson behavior, not at that time, not in that place, not surrounded by those people. And indeed she wasn’t surprised, she was scared. The thing that was scaring her was that that kind of life had leaded astray someone with strong will and beliefs like a reverend, so what would have happened to someone like her?
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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years
Note
could you maybe write something about Arthur falling in love with a rival gang member? like a bit like romeo and juliet or something, you can choose the ending, thx :)
I tried to keep this one short but then I puked out like thirteen pages, so have fun, Anon! Thanks for sending this in! 
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You’ve been running with the O’Driscolls for many years. Most of your life, really. Ever since you were a young teen. You’d been living with your parents and older sister in a cabin on the border of Ambarino and New Hanover. When you were thirteen, you had a habit of dressing like a boy even though you’re a girl. You just preferred the more comfortable, free moving clothing that boys wore and you kept your hair short to spite your mother. She’d been trying to push the woman’s lifestyle on you and you were just not having it. In order to rebel against her, you cut your hair so it was only a few inches long. 
Your father didn’t care how you looked or dressed, he thought you should do what felt right. He taught you how to hunt and shoot a gun when you were young, and he did this with your older sister as well. She didn’t take to it as well as you did as she didn’t like getting her hands dirty. She was too much like your mother and you were like your father. He was the one who bought you pants and button-down shirts to wear and a hat to shelter your eyes and head. 
It was the combination of your clothes, hair and that you always seemed to be covered in earth or dust from the road that saved your life. At the age of fourteen, the O’Driscolls came to your cabin one night. It was only a small group of them, but Colm O’Driscoll heard a rumor that your father was wealthy and just pretended to be poor for the sake of appearances. 
This was true as your grandfather had been a railway magnate until he’d been forced out of his business and decided on a simpler, less stressful life. He’d left his fortune to your father, who decided to hide his inheritance. Your family lived on a small ranch, which made it easy to pretend like you had just enough to get by. But somehow word had slipped out about your family’s money and Colm came to steal it. 
Colm and seven of his men barged their way into your cabin. They shot your father only seconds after breaking the door down, then your mother. Colm’s men grabbed your sister and dragged her off into the night. You never saw her again, though you still sometimes hear her screams when trying to sleep. Colm looked hard at you and thought, because of your appearance, that you were a boy. 
“You’re gonna be one of us, boy,” he said in his oddly soft voice. “You’re gonna be one of us or end up like your daddy.” 
You just nodded and went with them. You were forced to join the gang but you knew the consequences for trying to run. Of course, you also continued to dress like a boy. As you grew, you started growing your hair out to respect your mother in her death. Luckily plenty of Colm’s men had longer hair, so they suspected nothing. That changed when you started to grow older and parts of your body visibly changed. You had to wear a tight wrap around your chest, but there was nothing you could do about your wider hips. You managed to threaten a tailor to make a duster with padded shoulders to make them look bigger and hide your feminine figure. 
Years passed from when Colm destroyed your family and you stayed in his gang. You would have left when you were close to twenty, but you knew what would happen if you deserted. One boy made this mistake and Colm hunted him down and within days of him leaving, Colm killed him. The matter of his death was neither easy or quick, so you knew if you left, the same thing would happen to you. 
Of course it wasn’t easy being in Colm’s gang. Since you were smaller than most the others, you got picked on a lot and you got stuck with some of the more unpleasant tasks, like shoveling horse shit and cleaning up after the others. 
Shortly after you were incorporated into the gang, you’d heard of Dutch Van der Linde and his boys. You only knew his name and that he and Colm were rivals. Every once in a while, you’d hear about them interfering with one another’s work, but whenever you asked why Colm had such a fury towards Dutch, the others would just tell you to shut up. You thought for a long time that Colm detested this Dutch just because he was another gang leader and they happened to cross one another frequently. 
You’ve been in the gang more than ten years now. Ten long, miserable years. You want nothing more than to get out, but to do so means your inevitable death. You also know it can take mere seconds for Colm to figure out you’re a woman. He doesn’t like women in the gang, says they only slow the gang down. If and when he finds out, he’ll happily put a bullet in your head. 
Colm has never liked you much. You think the only reason he brought you into the gang was because you were a child. Maybe Colm has something against killing kids or maybe he just thought you might have potential. You don’t take his malcontent personally. He doesn’t like most the men he runs with, only keeps them around because they’re good with guns and sometimes manage to pull a score successfully. 
You’ve climbed up in his ranks though. You had no choice. In order to survive and to hide your gender, you learned quickly. Even though you knew how to shoot a pistol and a varmint rifle, you had to learn how to shoot a bigger gun. So you taught yourself. Colm’s boys taught you the craft of acting mean, targeting people and robbing them. You were good too. Perhaps it was just your feminine intuition on how to play people since you couldn’t physically fight too well because of your size, but you had a knack for tricking people and robbing them blind. Colm appreciated this and you moved up quickly. 
You hate him though. No matter what he does or how much money you get through him, you hate him. You’d like nothing more than to slit his throat while he sleeps. But you’re afraid of him too. The first time you’d ever seen him was putting a bullet in your father and then killing your mother. You know he had something to do with your sister and there’s little doubt in your mind he ravaged her and then killed her too. Only a monster could be capable of that, to orphan a child and then force them to work for the one who killed their family. 
You walk into the bar in Valentine, thirsty and sore. The past few days have been hell. For some dumb reason, Colm decided a couple weeks back to move the gang up to some fallen apart town near Colter. Then you all got trapped there during a blizzard. He’d been out with some of his boys when the blizzard hit. He came back with his right hand man, a fat man with a bushy beard named Hoskins. The others never returned, but Colm figured the idiots had gotten lost and died in the snow. 
He told you and some of the other higher ups that you were all up here to rob a train owned by Leviticus Cornwall. You’d heard the name of course. He was a big, but impossible target. Cornwall was known to go after any idiot who robbed him with a vengeance. Colm told you all to stay up here for another couple of days before the robbery. Then he sent one of the newer members, some fidgety nervous guy named Kieran, out to scout for the train. He left and told you and some of the others to go hunt some game to keep everyone fed. 
You split off from the others and managed to find a deer grazing out in the frozen wilderness, but when you came back to the hideout, it was littered with corpses. Only a few men were left standing. When Colm returned and found out the plans for the train robbery had been stolen, he lost it. He hit one of the other men right in the face. Only you seemed to notice that the kid, Kieran, hadn’t returned, but you said nothing. 
Colm set his hands on the back of a rickety chair and glared into a lamp. 
“There’s only one fella stupid enough and bold enough to steal a score from me. Goddamn Van der Linde. Well, I have a surprise for him. This is the last time he steals from me. I heard he and his bunch are wanted in Blackwater. Hoskins, you’ll help me find a way to get him.” 
You rarely saw Colm after that, but he moved the gang to Hanging Dog Ranch in Big Valley. He ordered you and the others to hunt for new scores and for the whereabouts of Dutch and his boys. 
You’ve been riding for days with hardly any sign of either gang. That’s why you’re in this shit hole of a town Valentine. Always muddy, always smelling of shit. You rap on the bar and order a beer. You’re in need of a bath, but you need to go back to camp tomorrow. You’ve been gone long enough and they might start to think you’ve deserted. Despite your hatred towards Colm, you do feel a strange sense of obligation towards him. Despite him having destroyed your family and livelihood, he taught you how to fight, how to rob and how to get away with it. Perhaps that’s just a lie you tell yourself. Maybe the only reason you’re loyal to him is because you’ve been part of his gang most your life. 
Just as you’re finishing your beer, the doors swing open and a man walks in. You only glance at him for a second and spot his leather hat and blue shirt. He stalks towards the barber’s seat and gets his hair and beard trimmed. After he’s done, he comes and leans on the bar not too far from you. He orders a beer as well. 
Something about him intrigues you. It’s rare for you to take an interest in men, and in this town he’s not out of style. Hell, he’s covered in dirt and his clothes are years old, from the looks of them. Still, he has this force and presence that drags your attention to him. You study him for a moment. 
He glances over at you and your eyes meet. He’s got stunning blue eyes. You blink and look away. You both ignore each other and buy a few more drinks. After your third, you decide that’s enough and start to head out. Just as you leave the bar, you collide with the man. 
“Sorry,” you say, forgetting in that split second to make your voice sound deep and gravelly. You’re usually so careful, but when you’re not around the gang, it’s harder to maintain. 
The man lowers his brow, clearly confused. “It’s alright, mi… well, can I call ya miss?” 
He looks you up and down, clearly confused. After all, your disguise is very convincing. 
“Sure,” you say. “Long as you don’t tell no one else.” 
He huffs a small laugh. “And who’d I tell that I met a young woman who looked just like a young, very small man?” 
You smile. “I guess no one.” 
He tips his hat. “You have a fine day, sir.” He gets on his horse and rides off. 
************************
You’ve bumped into this man a few more times since that first meeting. You found a mutilated corpse under the railroad and he did too at pretty much the same time. Another day, you stumbled upon a strange rock carving near the Cumberland River and he showed up only seconds later. Another time, you were just heading back to Hanging Dog Ranch and you saw him in the big meadow skinning a pronghorn. You’ve never crossed paths with a stranger so often. 
You’re in Valentine again and just heading over to the train station. A couple months back, you bumped into some annoying feller who offered you money for bundles of cigarette cards, and you’ve finally found enough that they might be worth something. Hopefully this idiot wasn’t pulling your leg. Just as you’re about to reach the doors, they open and the man you’ve met a handful of times comes out. 
“Excuse me, sir,” he says, then stops. His eyes rake over you and he smiles. “Again? How many times you and I gonna cross paths?” 
You smile. “Don’t get the impression that I’m following you, that’s not what’s happening.” 
He smiles back. “Course not. Well, don’t let me keep ya.” 
You’ve never been a big believer in fate or destiny, but the fact that you’ve run into this man so often has got to be more than mere coincidence. As he starts walking over to his horse, you turn. 
“Sir, we keep bumping into each other. Now I don’t believe in divine interference when it comes to people and their lives, but… there’s gotta be a reason we keep running into each other. Let me buy you a beer.” 
He grins. “That’s awful kind o’ ya, miss. Guess I can grab a drink. Though not Smithfield’s. Bar owner ain’t too keen on me right now.” 
You agree and go to the smaller, quieter saloon in Valentine. You make good on your promise and buy him a drink. There, you both get to talking and introduce yourselves properly (though not entirely honestly). 
“So tell me,” Arthur says, setting his bottle down. “Why’s a girl like you dressin’ like a man? Judgin’ by how well you do it, my guess is you’ve done it a long time.” 
You sigh. “It’s…. It’s a long, boring story. Let’s just say it’s safer for me to dress like this than a woman. No offence, but men have a disgusting habit of targeting women because we’re the weaker sex.” 
He smiles a bit. “Yes we certainly have a habit of doin’ that. However, I know you’re leavin’ somethin’ out.” 
“How would you know?” 
“Because,” he says, “you’re way too vague and you’re the only woman I seen dressed like this. So what’s the real story?” 
You know you can’t tell him about Colm’s gang, but perhaps you can just tell him a vague bit of the truth. 
“I run with a bunch of boys who aren’t too keen on runnin’ with women. Guess they don’t really like us, I don’t know. In order to keep on runnin’ with ‘em, I dress like this. They buy it well enough.”
“Don’t seem like a particularly good bunch if they can’t handle you bein’ a lady. Why don’t you just leave?” 
“It’s… it’s complicated,” you say, hiding your eyes beneath your hat. “Let’s just say they ain’t keen on people abandoning them.” 
He doesn’t press further and then he thanks you for the drink. You kind of hope you don’t see him again, he already knows too much about you for your own safety. 
Just as you’re leaving Valentine, Colm and Hoskins bump into you. 
“There you are, you son of a bitch,” Colm snarls when he sees you. This is a usual greeting so you think nothing of it. “Saddle up, boy. We gotta go to Six Point.” 
“Why?” you say, mounting up on your horse. 
“I left Lowman and McCann up there with some of the others. They were supposed to stash the money from that stage robbery and meet us at Hangin’ Dog. I ain’t seen hide nor hair of ‘em. Little bastards better not be dead drunk.” 
You ride with the two to the cabin Colm sometimes uses as a hideout. You find the other men scattered around, dead but not drunk. Colm’s furious again and he kicks a bucket halfway across the site. He investigates the cabin and finds the money gone, as well as a double-barrelled shotgun he had mounted up on the chimney. 
“You, boy,” he points at you. “You stay here. Get this shit cleaned up, and stay here until I come for you in case the shits who did this come back.” 
“You want me here alone in case a possible group of expert gunman come back?” you say, not liking the odds. 
“Yeah, don’t be yella. Just do what you’re told. I’ll come get ya in a few days.” 
***********************
What Colm said would be a few days has turned into a few weeks. He’s had you stake out places like this before, so you know the drill: sniff out any possible leads from the closest town. While you’ve been trying to dig up clues, you bump into that Arthur Morgan time and time again. 
The first time you did since buying him a drink, he offered to buy you one. After that, whenever you meet, you both go for drinks and get to know one another a little better. It isn’t long before you start to feel a sense of friendship towards him. He’s just as vague on his lifestyle as you are, but you don’t push out of respect. Before long, Arthur asks you to meet him in places to go hunting. He seems to like the company. 
After one particularly long day, you part his company in Valentine and return to Six Point. You spend the next couple of days missing him. You miss him more than anyone else you’ve ever known and that’s when you’re hit with it: you like him. 
The next time you meet, you try to keep things cool between you and him, but you can’t help but stare at him. He is handsome after all. Plus you know that while his temper can be quick to flare up, he can be incredibly gentle and caring. There was one time you both stumbled into a cabin where the occupants had died due to a fire. The cabin was relatively intact and it looked like they’d died from the gas. Arthur picked up a pen and a children’s book. When you questioned him on this, he just smiled. 
“I have a couple of friends who mentioned they wanted a pen and a book like this.” 
“Ah, so if I was to ask you to fetch me somethin’, would you get it?” you ask before you could stop yourself.
“Of course. Anythin’ in mind?” 
You were almost surprised, but happy. “Now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind a watch. I accidentally dropped mine and it broke a couple days back. Haven’t had the chance to replace it.” 
He smiled and promised to bring you one. The next time you saw him, he had it. When your fingers brushed his, he blushed. Was it possible he had something for you too?
From then on, your relationship with Arthur changed. There was just a sense of electricity between you both, like you were magnetized. You went from purposefully bumping your hand into his to touching his upper arms and shoulders to brushing his hair when he had his hat off. It wasn’t long after that when you had your first kiss. It had taken you completely by surprise.
You’d both been drinking heavily that night and you were doing everything to control yourself with him. You’d been more attracted to him than ever, but you weren’t sure if he liked you too. However, in your drunken phase, the candlelight hit him just right and you just leaned over and kissed him. He was taken by surprise, but when you started to pull away, he stopped you and crashed his lips to yours. 
After that night, the two of you met almost daily, even if it was just for five minutes. Arthur kissed you as often as he could. It didn’t take long before the two of you finally made love. You’d been out hunting and it rained hard, chilling you both to the bone. You were both forced to strip down to your undergarments as your clothes had been soaked. You nestled close to one another and one thing led to another and you ended up sleeping with him. Arthur was more than satisfactory in bed, he knew how to push buttons you weren’t even aware existed. He seemed pleased with your performance as well. 
After having sex with him, you start to feel guilty for hiding so much from him. You’ve made love to him several times now and you feel incredibly close to him. More than anyone else you’ve known. He makes you feel like you don’t have to hide, you can be yourself. Perhaps now is the time you open up about your past. 
You meet Arthur in the saloon, where you always arrange to meet. You’ve made up your mind when you walk up to him. He smiles when he sees you and wraps an arm around you. He kisses you softly, not caring who might be around to see. 
“Well, should we go off huntin’ or do you wanna hit the hotel first and have a little fun?” he asks with a small growl. 
You blush a bit. “I’d love to go have some fun, but… we need to talk first.” 
His smile fades, but he nods. You feel even more guilty, the poor man probably thinks you’re going to break up with him. You take his hand and lead him outside to your horses and mount up. You lead him away from the town where you won’t be overheard. 
You dismount and Arthur follows suit. He walks over but doesn’t touch you, clearly under the impression you’re going to end things. 
“Arthur I… I feel I owe you an explanation,” you say, looking at your feet. “I haven’t been honest with you. Most of the things I’ve said have been little less than lies.” 
He furrows his brow, clearly taken aback by this. You look up at him. 
“I don’t want to lie anymore, Arthur. I’m….” you prepare yourself for the worst. Most men you can think of would be upset at dating an outlaw. “I’m an outlaw. The boys I run with are a gang.” 
He sighs and smiles. “Jesus, darlin’! You nearly scared me to death!” 
You look at him in shock. “What?”
“Honey, I don’t care that you’re an outlaw. You wanna hear one of my secrets?” He grabs your hands and leans in. “I’m an outlaw too. I run with a gang. Men, women, even a kid. Not my kid, course, but he’s a good boy.” 
You smile up at him, your gut feeling considerably lighter. “Oh thank God. Can I ask which gang?” 
He scratches the back of his neck. “I run with Dutch Van der Linde.” 
Your heart skips a beat. “Van der Linde?” you say.
He nods. “Somethin’ wrong?” 
You swallow. “Possibly. Arthur, I… I run with the O’Driscolls.” 
He lowers his brow and his eyes widen. His hands let go of yours. “The O’Driscolls? You run with those assholes?” 
“Arthur, I can explain. It wasn’t really my decision and-” 
“Save it,” he growls. “Your gang has caused nothin’ but heartbreak and anger for my gang. Van der Linde is like a father to me and Colm killed his girl.” 
“And Van der Linde killed his brother!” you say. You’re not really sure why you’re getting defensive, but you know one thing: Arthur has a huge problem with your truth. 
“Word is Colm hated his brother more than anyone else,” Arthur snarls. “But he killed Dutch’s girl. They were gonna get married! And you run with those fools? I can’t even tell ya how much trouble you’re bunch has caused us?” 
You blink away some tears. “I thought… Arthur, I thought you wouldn’t care. Just because I run with them doesn’t mean I’m like them. I hate Colm more than you can know, but I can’t get out.” 
“No one’s forced to do nothin’. You can leave whenever you want. But I’m gonna tell ya somethin’, Y/N.” His eyes darken and he squares his jaw. “If you choose to stay with them, you and I can’t be together no more. I refuse to be associated with a goddamn O’Driscoll.” 
You lower your head and look down. You want nothing more than to leave, but if you do, Colm will butcher you. “I want nothing more than to run away from him, Arthur. But… he’ll kill me.” 
He sighs heavily. “So you’re gonna choose to be a coward. Well, forget about things with me then, Y/N. I refuse to waste my time on an O’Driscoll.” 
His words sting and he marches over to his horse, mounting up and leaves. Out of all the things that could have happened when you decided to come clean, this was not it. Your chest suddenly tightens painfully and your stomach just feels like it’s gone. You take a step over to the cliff’s edge and sit down. You’ve never despised your gang more. They’ve taken everything from you. Your family, your freedom, and now your lover. You can’t say you blame Arthur for leaving and you can understand his loyalty to his gang. He’s also right about you and you feel like a coward. 
After a bit, you get yourself up and ride off to Six Point. When you get there, you finally let yourself cry. How can you go on with your gang now? You’d been so happy with Arthur, happier than you’ve been in years, and now it’s gone. Life with your gang seems even darker than before. 
*************************
The next day, Colm comes, but he doesn’t want you to return to the gang’s hideout yet. 
“Turns out Van der Linde was behind the massacre here,” he says. “Only one way he could’ve known about this place. That coward Kieran must’ve been behind this. I also heard a rumor.” He glares at you. “One of my boys said he saw you talkin’ with a fella named Arthur Morgan. You know he’s one of Dutch’s boys, right?” 
You swallow. “Yes. I was merely telling him this is our turf and he should get lost.” 
“I see, though I doubt it. From what my boy was tellin’, you looked like you were friendly with him. More than friendly even. I can handle one of my men feelin’ attracted to other men, as long as they don’t act on it. But I will not accept anyone falling for a Van der Linde, you got me, boy?” 
You nod your head. “Yes, sir. I am not attracted to Morgan, but I understand.” 
“You always was a bad liar. Now I need to go somewhere for a few more days, but when I come back, you’re comin’ with me. Now if I hear you’re fraternizing with any more of Dutch’s boys, you ain’t gonna like what I do to ya.” 
With that, Colm stomps out of the cabin and rides off. You’re left shaken. “Goddamn it, Arthur,” you say quietly. “Why must you be… you?”
****************************
Two days later, you’re still at Six Point. You haven’t left the cabin since Colm threatened you. You’re sure he’s staked out some of his men in Valentine to keep an eye on you. As far as Arthur goes, you’ve heard and seen nothing. You miss him more than you care to admit, but you’ve already given up on ever seeing him again. He made it perfectly clear how he feels about you. 
You’re beginning to wonder if running and taking your chances would be worth staying with Colm. After all, it’s not like you get much money from his jobs and you’re no more safer staying than you are running. He’s turned around and shot his men several times over stupid things. You weren’t one of them out of mere chance. More than that though, you’re tired of hiding. Hiding who you are and what you look like. 
Just as you’re beginning to think of a plan of escape, where you’ll go and what you’ll do, a knock comes on the door of Six Point. It’s not Colm. He never knocks. Perhaps it’s just a weary traveller in need of shelter from the torrential rain outside. You readjust your high bun and put your hat back on, pulling the masculine disguise back together. 
When you open the door, you don’t find a traveller. Arthur’s standing on the porch, his hat in his hands. 
“What are you doing here?” you say quietly, trying to cover your emotions. Your voice is surprisingly steady. You fold your arms around yourself, waiting for his anger. 
“I came to apologize for the things I said, Y/N,” he says softly. “I know I made some assumptions without botherin’ to ask you if they’re true. I know you ain’t runnin’ with Colm out of affection. He’s the reason you gotta dress like a man, I’m guessing.” 
You nod and take your hat off. “Yes. If he ever finds out, I’m dead.” 
Arthur purses his lips a bit. “Well, darlin’, I… I’m wonderin’ if I can propose somethin’ to ya.” He waits for you to respond. When you don’t, he goes on. “I was thinkin’ you could abandon Colm, come with me into my gang. You’d be the safest there.” 
You look up at Arthur. “Does Dutch know? Does he know that I’m an O’Driscoll?” 
He sighs. “I told him about ya. He knows. He… weren’t too happy when I told him how I feel about ya. But I told him you’re little more than a prisoner with Colm. You’re only loyal out of fear.” 
You sigh and turn around to face the interior of the cabin. “I’m guessing it’s not enough to convince this Dutch to let me in. He’ll probably question my loyalty to him as well.” You turn and look at Arthur. “If I stay here, I’ll remain a prisoner. But if I go with you, I’ll still be a prisoner. Arthur, I’m trapped no matter what I do.” 
He walks in after you. “Not if I have anythin’ to say about it. It ain’t like I’m bringin’ ya in against your will. I got a lot of weight in my gang, Y/N. If I say you’re stayin’ and you’re alright, Dutch will listen to me. It’ll help a lot when he sees how useful you are to have around. Just help with the work and you’ll be accepted soon enough. I ain’t sayin’ it’ll be easy, but it might be the best chance you have.” 
He waits for you to respond. He’s right, of course. You know you’re already walking a thin line with Colm and it’s only going to get thinner. Arthur may very well be your salvation and, like he said, within the ranks of Colm’s greatest enemies is where you’ll be safest. 
“Do I have to keep on disguising myself?” you ask. 
Arthur smiles. “Absolutely not. We got plenty o’ women in camp and none of ‘em are ashamed of looking like women.” 
You smile and reach up, undoing your bun. It feels good to let your hair flow down just past your collarbones. You run a hand through it, aware you need a shower. You quickly change into a set of more feminine clothes, which you bought with Arthur a few weeks back. After washing your face, you look hardly recognizable from the man the O’Driscolls think you are. You’ll be able to slip past them easily enough.
“Okay, Mr. Morgan,” you say. “Take me to Van der Linde.” 
21 notes · View notes
sad-sweet-cowboah · 4 years
Text
Misty Forester
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Name:
Misty Selene Forester (Rodriguez)
Born:
April 10th, 1873 (Aries)
Age: 24 in RDO events, 25 in the main game, 33 in the epilogue
Birthplace: Manhattan, New York City, New York
Notable Characteristics:
Long brown hair
Bright green eyes
Plump red lips
Black, red, and white color scheme
Fashionable, will always make sure she looks good even if she’s wearing a potato sack
Sassy af
Vocally talented
Other Info:
Half Puerto Rican, 1/4 English and 1/4 French.
Bisexual, known to openly flirt with both men and women
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Skills:
Sharpshooter
Persuasive speaker
Skilled actor
Weapons:
Duel wielding custom Mauser pistols
Lancaster Repeater
Carcano Rifle
Hunting Knife
Family:
Arella Forester (Mother)
Luis Rodriguez (Father, unknown whereabouts)
Marie Forester (twin sister, deceased)
Background:
Misty is the child of immigrant parents. Her mother, Arella, is from England and is the daughter of a successful French businessman and an English woman whose own family came from their own wealth. Arella was set to be married to a man who too came from a rich family. Arella was unhappy with this, stole some money from her parents and managed to escape to America for better opportunities. Despite her parents search, she managed to avoid them. She settled down in New York City. There she met Luis, a man who escaped his own home, once living in extreme poverty in Puerto Rico. They bonded and quickly formed a relationship, and Arella soon found herself pregnant.
Before Misty and Marie were born, Luis received word that his mother back in Puerto Rico had fallen ill. He didn’t want to leave his love and their soon to be children, but he had no choice. He managed to get back to PR and would often send letters. Arella kept him up to to date with everything, eagerly waiting his return. However after the twins were born, the letters stopped coming.
A couple of years passed and Arella gave up hope that Luis would return, wondering if he perished or just stopped caring. Either way, she had her daughters to take care of and did her best to raise them. The funds she once nicked from her parents’ fortune allowed her to provide her and her daughters a comfortable living situation.
All the money in the world however did not prevent Marie from getting sick. She became infected with Cholera at the age of five and despite the aggressive medical care, she ended up passing away.
Both Misty and Arella were heartbroken. They stayed in NYC for another six years, and decided to move south, relocating to another city known as Saint Denis. Arella, having grown up around French culture, felt right at home. Misty missed NYC, but soon fell in love with the grandeur of Saint Denis and often wandered around, marveling the well-dressed citizens and enjoying the entertainment. She soon realized she wanted to become a singer, seeking out a vocal trainer whom she learned from for a few years. She also hung around the theaters, speaking with performers and learning tips and techniques on not only singing, but acting as well.
Little did she know that it would come in handy one day. At the age of 16, her grandparents ended up in Saint Denis for a vacation when they ran into Arella by accident. The reunion was explosive, and a lot of shouts and curses were exchanged before everything calmed down. Misty did not know that her mother ran away years ago, and she never heard much about her grandparents except for that they lived in the UK. Despite the tension held, her grandparents absolutely loved her and wanted to keep in touch. Sometime after, she was kidnapped by a gang of outlaws. Somehow word had gotten out she was the granddaughter of a wealthy family, and their intention was to hold her for ransom.
She was with them for three weeks, having to endure their vulgarity. They gave her the bare minimum, feeding her bread rolls and making her sleep on the ground, knowing she would do no good if she got sick or injured. Despite how afraid she was, Misty managed to form a plan, carefully learning their mannerisms and how they interacted with others. She managed to escape without inflicting violence, using her charm and learned acting skills to weasel her way out. Unfortunately for her, she had no idea where she was.
No longer was she in the state of Lemoyne, instead finding out she was in a completely different state called West Elizabeth. With nothing but the clothes on her back and no money in her pockets, she had no idea how to get home, and she was certain those outlaws would catch up to her sooner or later. She managed to keep herself discreet for a couple of days, laying low and charming shopkeepers into giving her a couple of cans of food. All the while, she was desperately trying to find a ride back to Saint Denis that didn’t cost her money, or being subjected to disgusting favors from men twice her age.
One night she’d found shelter in a barn, sleeping peacefully when the sounds of voices aroused her. She realized immediately it was the gang of outlaws that kidnapped her in the first place, and she had no way to defend herself. Despite her trying to keep quiet, they eventually found her hiding spot. With no way out she was ready to accept her fate, until she heard gunshots and the heavy thudding of bodies. More gunfire sounded and she opened her eyes to see them facing outside the barn as a flurry of bullets both entered and exited the barn. She hid behind a crate, listening to the carnage until the gunfire stopped. Seeing the gang were all dead, she warily left her hiding spot and met the man who saved her, a fellow named Hosea Matthews. She recognized him immediately, having seen his wanted poster plastered all over Saint Denis for years. She thought he had the same intention of holding her ransom, but instead surprised her in saying he was here to help, after hearing talk about the rival gang searching for a young girl.
And so for the next few days, Hosea taught Misty how to defend herself. He gave her a revolver, teaching her how to shoot and basic tracking/hunting skills. He even offered to bring her back to his personal gang.
Main Game AU:
Misty considered Hosea’s offer. How she wanted to return home, but had a fear that upon returning, the same events would transpire and may end up with her, her mother, or others she cared about getting injured or killed in the crossfire. The last thing she wanted to do was bring home dangerous, greedy men, and decided to leave with Hosea.
Thus then started her journey as part of “Dutch’s Boys”, a scared young girl soon taught to be a useful gang member. Dutch and Hosea discovered her acting skills and put her to work for heists and robbery.
More to come soon...
RDO Events AU:
Upon declining Hosea’s offer, he gave her money to take a train back to Saint Denis and wished her luck, and let her know that he’d help her again if she ever needed it. She thanked him and got on the next train back home, glad to finally have a way back but she’ll never forget Hosea.
She returned to an emotional reunion, by not only her mother but her grandparents as well, who refused to return home until she was found. They immediately offered to take her and Arella back to England with them, where they guaranteed her safety. Arella declined for the both of them, while it was tempting, she did not want to subject Misty to the life that she hated.
Life returned back to normal for Misty, and putting the experience behind her, she tried pursuing a life in show business as she intended. Despite having a beautiful voice, she just couldn’t break past performing on the streets. She was constantly in other more successful performers’ shadows.
When she moved out on her own, she found it much harder to live on the meager money she was making. She then remembered her experience while being held hostage. The outlaws spoke about their tales and triumphs with stealing riches. She soon began to succumb to her curiosity, finding herself hanging out with the less desirable folk in Saint Denis.
She soon made herself a posse of her own called the Midnight Regulators, making their way across five states like a storm in robberies and ambushes. Misty often takes the role of damsel in distress to lure rich folk into trying to help her, and then robs them blind. She will also help those who are in greater need than her, sometimes becoming a “Robin Hood” and giving part of her loot to poor families.
Unfortunately, one of her gang members became too greedy and tried to overthrow her by attempting to kill her. The fight ended with Misty putting a bullet in their skull. The gang disbanded after that and she was alone, pulled to perform for funds.
Extra:
Legally her name is Misty Rodriguez. However, her mother introduced them using her own maiden name for her daughters to avoid discrimination.
Misty is actually afraid of horses, except her own, after being kicked in the chest as a child. It took her a long time to get comfortable around them.
She secretly hopes to meet her father one day.
She is considered morally gray.
Despite how her life has changed, she still wants to be on stage one day.
She has a soft spot for children and while it doesn’t seem likely, she hopes to settle down and have her own family.
Horses:
Cressida, an amber champagne Missouri Fox Trotter mare:
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Misty’s main mount and her absolute favorite horse. Both fast and resilient, Misty was drawn in by this mare’s prowess and beauty.
Cornelia, a marble sabino Criollo mare:
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Misty’s first horse. Cornelia can easily match Cressida in speed and stamina, but she’s very clumsy. Misty doesn’t ride her as often in fear of accidentally injuring her.
Orion, a sorrel overo Criollo stallion:
Misty came across this beautiful stallion tied up at a gang hideout, and took him once she’d done away with them.
Andromeda, a bay frame overo Criollo mare:
Misty’s newest horse. A prized mare she found at Braithwaite Manor when she snuck over to originally steal horses. She made out with the ones needed plus Andromeda for her own collection.
Blanche, a white Kladruber mare:
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Not the fastest mount, but gorgeous and sturdy. Blanche, meaning “white” in French, was given to Misty by a man in thanks for saving his daughter.
24 notes · View notes
Link
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We’d love you to get rid of your Sheriff and law enforcement . We don’t need no rules!   
Alvord-Stiles Gang (1899-1904) – Led by two ex-lawmen, Burton Alvord and Billy Stiles, this gang of train robbers operated in Arizona Territory at the turn of the century.
Archer Gang (1880s) – Much like the Reno Brothers who had operated two decades earlier, the Archer brothers — Thomas, Mort, John, and Sam, raided Orange and Marion Counties in Indiana for several decades.
Sam Bass Gang (1877-1878) – Led by Sam Bass, this gang robbed trains and banks in Texas. For South Dakota and Nebraska robberies, see the Black Hills Bandits.
Billy the Kid’s Gang, aka: The Rustlers (1876-1880) – Led by Billy the Kid, this gang formed out of the conflict of the Lincoln County War in New Mexico.
Black Hills Bandits (1876-1877) – Comprised of Sam Bass, Joel Collins, and four other men, they robbed stagecoaches in the Deadwood, South Dakota area and pulled off the Big Springs train robbery in Nebraska.
Blonger Brothers (1890’s-1922) – Louis H. “The Fixer” Blonger led one of the longest-running confidence rings in the American West.
Bummers Gang (1855-1860) – Operating in Denver, Colorado, the Bummers Gang began “raiding” the town in the mid-1850s.
Burrow Gang (1887-1890) – Reuben “Rube” Burrow, along with his brother Jim, and other members began to rob trains after Rube’s crops had failed in Texas.
Clanton Gang, aka: The Cowboys (1870s) – The Clanton family and their ranch hands were a loosely organized gang of outlaws who operated along the Mexican border of Arizona, stealing cattle, robbing stagecoaches, ambushing teamsters, and committing murder.
Cook Gang (1894) – Led by Bill Cook and Cherokee Bill, these outlaws terrorized Indian Territory (Oklahoma) in 1894. Ruthless, they shot anyone who got in their way.
Brack Cornett Gang – See Bill Whitley Gang
Dalton Gang (1891-1892) – Led by brothers Bob and Grat Dalton, the Dalton Gang robbed banks and trains throughout Kansas and Oklahoma until they were killed in the Coffeyville, Kansas Raid.
Daly Gang (1862-1864) – For two years the Daly Gang terrorized the town of Aurora, Nevada.
Dodge City Gang (1879-1881) – In the summer of 1879, a gang of desperadoes known as the Dodge City Gang masqueraded as lawmen in Las Vegas, New Mexico.
Doolin-Dalton Gang, aka: Oklahombres, the Wild Bunch (1892-1895) – Led by Bill Doolin, the gang specialized in robbing banks, stagecoaches and trains in Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Kansas.
Espinosa Gang – Bitter at the killing of six family members during the Mexican-American War, the Espinosas took their revenge on Colorado residents and travelers, murdering them viciously.
The Five Joaquins (1850-1853) – The Five Joaquins were said to be responsible for the majority of cattle rustling, robberies, and murders that were committed in the Mother Lode area of the Sierra Nevadas between 1850 and 1853.
Fleagle Gang in the Newspaper
Fleagle Gang (1920s) – The Fleagle Gang robbed banks and committed murder in Kansas, Colorado, and California during the 1920s. They were found and executed or killed after robbing the First National Bank in Lamar, Colorado.
Flores-Daniel Gang (1856-1857) – Led by Juan Flores and Pancho Daniel, the gang raided southern California, stealing horses, cattle, and robbing travelers along the roadways, sometimes leaving their victims dead.
High Fives Gang (1890s) – Also referred to as the Christian Gang, led by “Black Jack” Will Christian and his brother, Bob, from Oklahoma, the gang operated in New Mexico and Arizona after the Christian brothers escaped from an Oklahoma jail in 1895.
Hole-in-the-Wall-Gang – Active in the 1880s-1890s in the Hole-in-the-Wall Pass of the Big Horn Mountains in Wyoming, the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang was not one organized gang of outlaws, but rather, was made up of several separate groups and individuals who made their hideouts within the pass in Johnson County, Wyoming.
Innocents Gang – The Innocents were an alleged gang of outlaw road agents in Montana Territory who operated during the gold rush of the 1860s, preying on shipments and travelers carrying gold between Bannack and Virginia City.
James Gang (1879-1882) – Three years after the demise of the James-Younger Gang, when the Youngers were arrested in Northfield, Minnesota, Jesse James put together another group to continue on with his criminal career. The James Gang lasted from 1879 to 1882, when Jesse was killed by Bob Ford on April 3, 1882.
James-Younger Gang (1866-1882) – After the Civil War, the James and Younger brothers hooked up, robbing banks, trains, and stagecoaches for ten years, becoming the most famous outlaw gang in America’s history.
Jennings Gang (1897) – This short-lived gang operated only a few months making several failed train robbery attempts in Oklahoma in 1897 before all were arrested or killed.
Jesse Evans Gang – The Boys (1872-1879) – Lead by Jesse Evans, this gang was actively involved in cattle rustling and armed robbery in New Mexico in the early 1870s.
Ketchum Gang (1896-1899) – Made up of a revolving list of members, the Ketchum Gang was led by Black Jack Ketchum. The gang robbed retail businesses, post offices, and trains in New Mexico.
John Kinney Gang (1870’s-1883) – Also known as the Rio Grande Posse, the Kinney Gang were successful cattle rustlers, robbers, and hired gunmen in New Mexico.
Lee Gang (1885) – In the mid-1880s, Cooke County, Texas, on the northern border of the Lone Star State, and the Chickasaw Nation just north in Indian Territory, were plagued by a gang of horse and livestock thieves led by James Lee and his brothers, Tom and Pink.
McCanles Gang – Led by David McCanles (or by some accounts, McCandless), this group of men were allegedly wanted for robbing banks and trains, cattle rustling, murder, and horse theft in the early 1860s.
McCarty Gang (1892-1893) – The McCarty Gang was run by Tom McCarty, who was one of the first to introduce Butch Cassidy to the life of banditry. The gang robbed banks until several members were killed.
Mes Gang – This bunch of primarily Hispanic outlaws and gunmen, were a rival of the John Kinney Gang, both operating out of New Mexico.
Musgrove Gang (1867-1868) – A gang of horse thieves and cattle rustlers who operated throughout Southern Wyoming and Northern Colorado in the late 1860s.
Oklahombres – See Doolin-Dalton Gang
Henry Plummer Gang – See the Innocents
Red Jack Gang – Led by “Red Jack” Almer, also known as Jack Averill, this gang preyed on Arizona stagecoaches during the early 1880s, particularly along the San Pedro River.
Reno Gang (1866-1868) – Four of the five Reno Brothers terrorized the state of Indiana for two years before they tracked down and hanged by the Southern Indiana Vigilance Committee in 1868.
Reynolds Gang (1863-1864) – A group of Confederate sympathizers that rampaged the South Park, Colorado area with the intention of raising money for the Confederate government.
Rogers Brothers Gang (1890s) – The Rogers Brothers Gang, led by Bob Rogers, terrorized Oklahoma and Kansas in the 1890s. The gang was involved in stealing horses, rustling cattle and robbing stores, post offices, banks, and trains.
Rufus Buck Gang (1895-1896) – A gang of ruthless outlaws who preyed on victims in Oklahoma, five of them were hanged at Fort Smith, Arkansas.
Selman’s Scouts (1878) – An outlaw gang in Lincoln County, New Mexico led by John Selman. For two months, during September and October 1878, the gang members terrorized the county by rustling cattle and horses, killing innocent men and boys, pillaging businesses and homes, and raping women.
Seven Rivers Warriors – (1870s) – Made up mostly of small-time ranchers from the Seven Rivers area of southeastern Lincoln County, New Mexico. supported the Tunstall/McSween faction against that of Dolan and Murphy in the Lincoln County War of New Mexico.
Silva’s White Caps, aka: Forty Bandits, Society of Bandits (1879-1893) – Silva’s White Caps were a vicious outlaw gang that operated in Las Vegas, New Mexico from about 1879 to 1893. They were a mafia-like organization that was led by led by Vicente Silva.
Smith-Dixon Gang – A Gang of horse thieves and whiskey peddlers operating in Indian Territory (Oklahoma), its members included Dave Smith, a former member of the Belle Starr Gang; his brother-in-law, Leander “Lee” Dixon; and a man teenager of about 17 years-old named William “Billy” Towerly.
Soapy Smith Gang (1879-1898) – Led by Jefferson Randolph “Soapy” Smith, the gang operated in Denver and Creede, Colorado before moving on to Skagway, Alaska, running a number of con games against unsuspecting citizens.
Stockton Gang (1878-1881) – Led by Ike Stockton, this gang of cattle rustlers terrorized the area of northern New Mexico while posing as “gentleman cowboys” in Durango, Colorado.
Triskitt Gang – Known for having conducted several robberies and killings in Northern California, the gang killed 18 people in Sailor’s Diggings, Oregon and stole $75,000 in gold.
Vasquez Gang (1860s-1875) – Led by Tiburcio Vasquez, the gang committed armed robbery and rustled horses and cattle up and down central and southern California for years.
Bill Whitley or Brack Cornett Gang (1887-1888) – Comprised of about 12 outlaws, the gang was led by Texas desperadoes Bill Whitley and Brack Cornett, robbing Texas banks and trains in the late 1880s.
Wild Bunch (1896-1901) – Led by Butch Cassidy, the Wild Bunch terrorized the states of Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Utah, and Nevada for five years.
Wolcott’s Regulators (1892) – One of the most feared bands of gunfighters and outlaws in Wyoming was Wolcott’s Regulators, who preyed on homesteaders in 1892, frequently leaving dead bodies in their wake.
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wittynameme · 3 years
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update to the “a confession” feasco.
if you dont k ow what im talking about just look up “a confession” on my page and read all the way through . (its an unorganized mess im so sorry)(my name is chloe plz ignore that.
f:For the racist thing- A country with two different races might have a bad history with each other. So generally the country that got the beat down the most is gonna hate the other, so that country's people are gonna be racist and against them. With the stealing thing- Animals steal eggs and what not all of the time. Also with artifacts the governments take those and preserve those for the future. Racism is bad I understand that because it usually is because of someone's skin which is wrong to be against someone for there skin tone. Stealing is also bad, like robbery and shoplifting and so on
me:you do realize that you just used like , three natoriously rasist talkinhg points used by kkk members all the time right?
me:you think that humans are naturally rasist because of a war and the winners tell the story and the losers are bitter about it? in this case the losers of this "beat down" being africa?the "rasism is natural" thing . the "africa is just bitter" thing.or are you sayig whights were the victims? which in that case is the "whights are being attacked" thing
f:Both aren't necessarily wrong actually
we are not like dumb animals, we have the ability to know when we sis something wrong .yes animals steal but the full grown people who grave robbed thoghs tombs did so because they thought they could and should have known etter
and the "its for there own good were just keeping them safe" thing implies the people we stole it from wont take care of it. even if they dont its not our call cause the mummys are not ours, its not like they want the artifacts any less tha we do
So you're saying we shouldn't take artifacts and preserve them and let people destroy them and sell them off.
Chloe it assumes we just love these mummys more than they do and were scarered they will hurt it so that completly justifies us keeping it from them.we should ask permission first 
That's what they do
Chloethe whole "its for preservation" thing is exactly what the british museum said when people lobied for the artifacts to be moved to and african museum.
"they"
africans fuin and sell there artifacts as trinkets?thats ALSO a rasist sterio type.
That's just how the world is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Chloe no it isnt you have been fed propaganda and you dont even know itall the things you said have been used by the kkk constantlyits like ypur reading right out of there apologetic s book.
I don't see the problem in that. I'm a person of history. Does it help to mention that my preferred ideology is Socialist-Imperialist. Does it also help to say that I'm also Atheist/Satanist. I'm also a Republican and conservative. I also see things from abroad. I also believe history should be preserved at all costs.You sent Today at 12:18 AMif you knew the hystorical contexts of the arguments you just used i dont think you would be usseing them
What are you talking about?You sent Today at 12:20 AMi litteraly just said where the "were preserving them" argument comes fromYou sent Today at 12:21 AMand if you love the accurete preservation of hystory than you must be anti confeterate right?sent Today at 12:21 AMNoYou sent Today at 12:22 AMthe confeterates literraly flodded public schools with confeterate propaganda and tried to pass laws that forsed american nationalism to be taght in schoolYou sent Today at 12:23 AMand banned any books deemed"against the confeteracy"You sent Today at 12:23 AMmost of the confeterate monuments are from the 60sYou sent Today at 12:23 AMas a fear tacticYou sent Today at 12:24 AMnot real authentic confeterate statuessent Today at 12:24 AMOkay..You sent Today at 12:24 AMthe flag we assosiate with the confeteracy is actually very resentYou sent Today at 12:25 AMcan you guess who poularized the confeterate flag we see today?You sent Today at 12:25 AMa literal kkk dragon who adopted it as a symbol of the "opressed whights"sent Today at 12:25 AMThe Confederate flag is not popular, the Confederate battle flag isYou sent Today at 12:26 AMthats what i was talking aboutsent Today at 12:26 AMOkYou sent Today at 12:27 AMmost of the people who say they are modern confeterates adopted the flag and lable as something to stand under for a more modern political agenda , usually whight nationalism.You sent Today at 12:27 AMbut the spin it as "were being opressed by minority groups"sent Today at 12:28 AMTo a degree yesYou sent Today at 12:28 AMthey dont want to preserve hystory , they whant to preserve this weird fantacy world where the 1940s were the good old days , there perseptions of hystory.
What's wrong with ww2?You sent Today at 12:30 AM.....uh people diedYou sent Today at 12:30 AMthere was a warYou sent Today at 12:30 AMa war of the worldssent Today at 12:30 AMWell yeah that's what happens in warYou sent Today at 12:30 AMgermany , italy, and japan were ruled by horrible dictatorssent Today at 12:31 AMWrongYou sent Today at 12:31 AMehy do you just say that like thats normal??? like thats a good thing?sent Today at 12:31 AMKinda yeah
wtfYou sent Today at 12:32 AMyour a nazi lover?sent Today at 12:32 AMNoYou sent Today at 12:32 AMi thoght you said you were americansent Today at 12:32 AMI amYou sent Today at 12:32 AMthen tell me you hate nazis
No, I don't hate any ideology
but you hate the one that caused the halocaust more right?
millions of peole died it shouldnt take you that long to type "yes"
No I look at them negatively, it was some horrific things they did but they never did anything to meYou sent Today at 12:36 AMso what !You sent Today at 12:37 AMthat they have never done anything to you!You sent Today at 12:37 AMthay never did anything to you because your whight conservitive and not jewish
say itYou sent Today at 12:38 AMsay the halocaust was bad and hitler was evil
say the halocaust was bad and hitler was evilsent Today at 12:40 AMYou know Judaism is just a religion. Yes the holocaust was bad. Hitler was good at bad, just depends on how you look at it.Jimmy Goodson sent Today at 12:40 AMGood and bad*You sent Today at 12:40 AMhe was evilsent Today at 12:41 AMIn some aspects yesYou sent Today at 12:41 AMwhy wont you say it? why do you beat around the bush?Aa
Because he did some great achievements toYou sent Today at 12:42 AMwhat the fuckYou sent Today at 12:42 AMlemmy guessYou sent Today at 12:42 AMthe train thingsent Today at 12:43 AMNoYou sent Today at 12:43 AMno he did not that is a rumor satrted by neonazi groups-You sent Today at 12:43 AMthan what!You sent Today at 12:43 AMwhat prey tell could pissibly be worth so many lives? you scare mesent Today at 12:47 AMHe United a shambled country. He fixed the economy of Germany. He put Germany back on the world stage. Helped stop hunger and joblessness in Germany. He made the first super highway. Because of him Europe is a prosperous place. Without him NATO wouldn't be a thing. And so on.
you think communist germany was a thriving economy? even if it was that would be outshadoewd by the mountain of dead bodyssent Today at 12:50 AMWho ever mentioned communist?You sent Today at 12:50 AMand the second bit?You sent Today at 12:51 AMnato was made to stop him??????You sent Today at 12:51 AMto stop the red scurge?sent Today at 12:51 AMAll of that was before ww2 (for the top part), Germany was fascist.You sent Today at 12:52 AMand what is the deffinition of fascismsent Today at 12:52 AM...You sent Today at 12:53 AMa dictator who tortures and brainwashes people , opressing the right of others.You sent Today at 12:53 AMisYou sent Today at 12:53 AMnotYou sent Today at 12:53 AMasent Today at 12:53 AMNo...You sent Today at 12:53 AMgoodYou sent Today at 12:53 AMthing a dictator who tortures and brainwashes people , opressing the right of others.You sent Today at 12:53 AMisYou sent Today at 12:53 AMnotYou sent Today at 12:53 AMasent Today at 12:53 AMNo...You sent Today at 12:53 AMgoodYou sent Today at 12:53 AMthingsent Today at 12:54 AMYou got the fascist thing wrong but okayYou sent Today at 12:54 AMyou missed the other 4 texts following it but oksent Today at 12:55 AMThat's not the definitionJimmy Goodson sent Today at 12:55 AMI also don't see the problem in a dictatorshipYou sent Today at 12:56 AMand you call yourself an americansent Today at 12:57 AMI never said I call my self anything I never said I call my self anythingYou sent Today at 12:58 AMso you just hate everyone then?
No I see everyone as equalsYou sent Today at 12:59 AMequally ok to murder in the persuit of money and metirial growth?
equally ok to murder in the persuit of money and metirial growth?You sent Today at 1:00 AMyou can see why im upset right!sent Today at 1:00 AMThat would be different thenJimmy Goodson sent Today at 1:00 AMYea I seJimmy Goodson sent Today at 1:00 AMSee*You sent Today at 1:01 AMwell you just said it was fine the halocaust happened because hitler ultimatly ended up creating economic ad political grrowth That was before ww2 and yes the holocaust bad.You sent Today at 1:04 AMwhy did you not just say that in the first place?
I said that sometime beforeYou sent Today at 1:04 AMyou cant call a horse a horse when you see a horse? I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
the fact you shrug at the holocaust discusts me
the fact you shrug at the holocaust discusts meYou sent Today at 1:06 AMi hope you never hold any knind of power
Okay?Jimmy Goodson sent Today at 1:07 AMI have my own country technicallyYou sent Today at 1:07 AMwell its not americasent Today at 1:08 AMIt technically somewhat owns America I have my own flag, ideology, religion, currency, map, and so on
(he then directs me to this link after i ask him what the fuck hes talking about)
https://www.nationstates.net/nation=the_orangeempire?fbclid=IwAR1PpZaq_r6oVFXdZ0j3WZnoUIbH3c1suPEfD58msuX_gFB9T9FJq1X3fOQ
this guys actualy insain
i need a hug.
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splat-dragon · 4 years
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Hosea’d only ever been kind to you, surely you were working yourself up over nothing? “I… see, there’s this horse I’ve been eyeing over at the Scarlett Horse Shop,” wait, did he know which stable that was? “The, uh, the one in Lemoyne? Down by Rhodes?” he nodded, looking amused, and you were sure you were redder than Kieran’s Branwen, “Thing is, I can ride ‘em, and I can steal ‘em, but I don’t know a single damn thing about how to tell if they’re a good horse or not. And, well, I ain’t gonna throw away money on a shit horse, ya know? Can’t just sell it back to Clay, I’d be lucky to get a dollar for it.”
Hosea chuckled, and nodded—Clay was a hell of a cheat, and the only reason the lot of you sold horses to him was because it was safer than trying to sell a stolen horse to the stables and risk getting caught it; if he got caught with the stolen horses, then it was his neck on the line. He gestured at you as though to say both ‘and?’ and ‘go on’, so you hurried to. “Well, I was hoping, if you have the time of course, I know you’re busy, that you could come give him a look-over before I buy him? I think he’s a good horse, but, well, I don’t really know.”
As the heavy horses thunder by With the living horseman's cry ~Heavy Horses, Jethro Tull
  “Mr. Hosea?”
 The old(er, never, ever call him straight up old, he’d have you strung up before you could say ‘oops’) man paused in his reading, looking up at you, though he didn’t even need to hear your voice to know it was you; you’d not been with the gang long, only a month or so, but you’d gotten rather attached to him in that time. It wasn’t uncommon for him to look up and find that you’d chosen a seat near him, stretched out and polishing your guns, or reading or writing, stitching your clothes or any number of the chores you did in camp.
 In the short amount of time you’d been with them, he’d come to learn that you were not one for idle work, for women’s work. Give you a gun or a bow and a horse between your legs, and you’d be happy. He could see you quickly becoming one of Dutch’s new golden children, being as you were one of the youngest members in the gang, only just older than Lenny, and already having scraped in a decent amount of money. Hosea could see Arthur in you, the need to prove yourself, that they hadn’t made a mistake taking you in.
 He hoped that Dutch didn’t ruin you, too.
“Need something, my dear?” he asked, marking his page and setting his book aside. You didn’t have a gun in your hands, only your usual pistol on your hips, so he didn’t think you were going to ask him to come with you on a heist (not that he had any sort of issue with it, it was actually nice to stretch his legs every once in a while), but you sounded even more uncertain than unusual, which was rather impressive.
 “Do you have a moment?”
 He nodded, patting the dirt besides his bedroll to invite you to sit, putting his book on the crate that served as a night stand. “Of course, what do you need?”
 Even as you sat, you shifted, feeling the fool and looking around. There, Javier was plucking his guitar by the campfire, Arthur sketching in that journal of his. Dutch was smoking a cigar by his tent, Charles playing his harmonica (and you were certain he did that while Javier was playing to get under everyone’s skins, but he’d never admit it and no one would believe him if he said so besides) and even Trelawney was there for once, fiddling with a deck of cards.
 So many people you could have asked, and you had to bother Hosea of all people! Arthur knew horses, knew them well, you could have asked him, though he was so busy, in your short time it hadn’t escaped you that he did the brunt of the work and you’d tried to shoulder some of it for him, and for yourself and the gang as well of course, but asking Hosea? One of the leaders? How presumptuous! How foolish!
 But he was looking at you, and you’d look even more foolish if you changed your mind and bolted, so you crossed your legs, not caring that you didn’t look lady-like, who cared to be lady-like? you were in jeans, so it wasn’t as though you were giving him a show, but oh! he could see your ankles, the indecency! Why, you ought to just keel over now and save your ancestors the shame, you’d robbed, you’d murdered, but oh! you’d shown a man your ankles!
 ...yeah, you were getting off track. Hosea’d only ever been kind to you, surely you were working yourself up over nothing? “I… see, there’s this horse I’ve been eyeing over at the Scarlett Horse Shop,” wait, did he know which stable that was? “The, uh, the one in Lemoyne? Down by Rhodes?” he nodded, looking amused, and you were sure you were redder than Kieran’s Branwen, “Thing is, I can ride ‘em, and I can steal ‘em, but I don’t know a single damn thing about how to tell if they’re a good horse or not. And, well, I ain’t gonna throw away money on a shit horse, ya know? Can’t just sell it back to Clay, I’d be lucky to get a dollar for it.”
 Hosea chuckled, and nodded—Clay was a hell of a cheat, and the only reason the lot of you sold horses to him was because it was safer than trying to sell a stolen horse to the stables and risk getting caught it; if he got caught with the stolen horses, then it was his neck on the line. He gestured at you as though to say both ‘and?’ and ‘go on’, so you hurried to. “Well, I-I was hoping, if you have the time of course, I know you’re busy, that you could come give him a look-over before I buy him? I think he’s a good horse, but, well, I don’t really know.”
 The man started to laugh, in that low, rasping way of his, and you could have crawled into a hole and died. You’d been right, you should have asked Arthur, or Charles, or even Javier or, hell, even Clive, though Clay talked his brother down you tended to get along with him and it was obvious he had a great deal of horse sense, you’d known the two long before joining the gang so maybe you could ask a favor? They did owe you a few, after all?
 “Of course,” he shook his head, “You had me thinkin’ you were goin’ to ask me to take you out back and shoot ya, from how worried you seemed,” and you couldn’t help the startled laugh that tore from your throat,
 “No, never!” if you’d ever needed that, you’d ask Micah, he’d probably agree in a heartbeat, though after a moment’s thought maybe someone else, he seemed the type to play with his prey, drag them around until they begged for death, you hadn’t been with them long but it was clear that Micah was nothing shy of a snake—and not the good kind, you actually didn’t mind snakes so long as they kept well clear of you and your horse, but the kind that snuck into birds’ nests and ate their eggs, cowards all.
 “When were you wanting to go?” he asked, looking thoughtful, like your ma used to when she was going over her planner, “I can’t go tonight, it’s gettin’ too late anyways, and tomorrow I said I would take Arthur hunting and that’ll take us through the weekend, probably. Is Monday alright?”
 You nodded, quickly, probably too quickly from the way his grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, “Yeah, yeah of course, I can take some work in Rhodes while I wait? I still have my bounty license and there’s always a ton there,” working as an outlaw and a bounty hunter always gave you a bit of a laugh, but it worked! Having someone slung over the back of your horse always got you some side-eyes, sometimes a gun cocked your way, but more often than not a flash of your badge had you safely on your way, whether it was actually bounty business or not, and of course it tended to keep you in good standing with lawmen and sheriffs, so when things went missing or you played at being an outlaw, it wasn’t you they looked for.
 And, besides, when you saw your… could you call them family? That was what Dutch preached, but you had only been with them such a short time, and though most of them were nice enough, could you claim to be family? Hell, could you even claim them as friends? as it were, when you saw their posters, you could tear them down in front of anyone under the guise of intending on hunting them down without being questioned.
Come Monday, you waited atop your mare not far from the Scarlett Horse Shop. Of course you already had a horse, you’d have died a long time ago without one, had had several actually, some of them dying, others sold off to the Davies brothers after proving themselves unsuitable for a lifestyle such as yours. And while Rosie was a good horse, a Walker at that with a decent running walk, but having a second horse could never hurt and, besides, different horse breeds had different uses and she could do with a sturdier horse for train robbing and bounty hunting, jumping off a train onto such a small horse was a feat in and of itself. And, seeing as you hunted both for profit and to feed the gang, having a horse on which you could throw extra carcasses and hides on would be a great help.
 You hadn’t let the stablemaster know that you were coming that day, and hadn’t let him see you as you rode up, either. While you’d never actually bought a horse from a stable—they’d all been stolen, broken, ‘gifted’, or taken from folks what didn’t need them anymore, it didn’t take a fool to realize that giving him time to hide anything wrong with the horse wasn’t a good idea. Rosie had actually been one of the gang’s ‘spare’ horses, kept around in case one of the girls needed to go riding, or one of the men’s horses were down or had just come back from a long ride or any other number of reasons. You’d grabbed Rosie for a wagon robbery—Thomas, the Morgan you’d had when you joined the gang, was damn near useless when it came to gunfire, and you’d intended on handing him off to the Davies brothers the moment you could, and fallen in love with her temperament, her sturdiness and the running walk she’d fallen into without any prompting.
  Technically, the spares weren’t supposed to get names, much less become someone’s main horse, but Thomas had become infamous before you’d been with them for two weeks and so they’d made an exception, and you hadn���t felt terribly sorry for selling Thomas off to Clay.
Hosea called out a greeting as he rode up to you, not wanting to risk getting shot. He was right on time—you’d learned quickly that, while a con-man and a shyster, he never broke a promise to his gang. Silver Dollar whickered at Rosie, who returned the greeting, raising her head. As you’d grown attached to Hosea, looking to him as a father-figure, she’d taken to Silver Dollar as well.
 “I really appreciate this, Hosea,” you said again, as you hitched your mare to the posts, and the man shook his head, clapping you on the shoulder as he followed you to the barn,
 “Any time!” he chuckled, before calling out a greeting to the stablemaster as the man walked out of the barn. The man welcomed you back, and the surprised pride on Hosea’s face when he referred to you by an alias had you standing just that little bit taller although, you thought, perhaps you should have told him ahead of time, it wouldn’t have been good if he’d called you the wrong name.
 “Now, who might this be?” the scruffy man asked, and Hosea offered his hand as he replied,
 “Melvin, Melvin McGinty, my daughter here asked me to look over a horse before she bought it.” the stablemaster grinned, shook his hand,
 “Good man, I’m Eris Feldman, here to see the same horse as always?” and you couldn’t help but to grin sheepishly, nodding. You came by the stable’s often, wanting to keep Rosie in good shape and, with all the hard riding you did, that meant you had to get her serviced regularly, and he always cared for her like she was his own horse.
 “Yessir,” and he chuckled,
 “He’s in his stall, follow me.” and you did, Hosea in front of you. The barn wasn’t the fanciest barn, not by a long-shot, but you liked it better than a lot of the other stables in the surrounding states because it led out to a nice paddock, thick with grass, not dust or dirt. The Strawberry stables were nice, too, but their paddocks were all dust, no grass to be seen, and the stables in Saint Denis, while fancy on the inside, had no paddocks to speak of period, same as the one in Blackwater.
 The gelding raised his head and nickered at you happily, and you crooned a ‘hey boy,” as you stroked his nose, Hosea looking the horse over. Just from his stall he could tell it was a massive thing, just under seventeen hands and standing taller than you at the shoulder, bulky and muscular, probably some sort of war breed—and with how large it was he already knew he’d be much more critical than if it was a smaller horse; a large horse was harder to handle, even if it were well-behaved.
 “This is Cliff, though of course you’re welcome to call him whatever you want,” the stablemaster introduced, grabbing the horse’s halter and leading him out of the stall. Hosea watched his stride, looking for any sign of lameness, of limping, if the horse had been used for any sort of hauling before it would be easy for it to have been made lame. Its hooves thumped heavily on the ground, but that was to be expected of such a massive horse, and christ but its hooves were the size of dinner plates. “He’s an Ardennes, five years old and gelded. We started him under saddle at three years old,” and that was a good thing, and Hosea nodded appreciatively, though you looked at him, tilting your head—why did he like that so much? “He’s fully trained for riding, and has been desensitized to gunfire.”
 Of course that was needed in their line of work, but you’d need to test if he was telling the truth before forking over the money for the horse.
Eris led Cliff outside for you to get a better look at him in the sunlight, and Hosea looked him over with a critical eye. He was a handsome enough horse, a bay roan if he was right, head and some of his neck orange-red, most of him powdered over an off-white, mane black fading to white, tail the opposite, but looks didn’t matter much in horses; he fully believed in the saying that ‘there’s no such thing as an ugly good horse,’ and while Cliff was pretty enough an ugly, scarred up horse could be the best horse you’d ever own.
 “What’ll you be usin’ him for?” Eris asked as Hosea ran his fingers along the geldings legs, picking them up to look at his hooves—he was freshly shod—and you shrugged,
 “Some of everything. I hunt, mostly, but I do a bit of bounty work now and then, which is why I like the looks of him. Need a sturdy horse. Love my Rosie, of course,” you tilted your head at the red roan Walker, “but she’s not the sturdiest,” Eris nodded.
 Hosea called to you, and you approached him, heart in your stomach—you’d sworn you wouldn’t get attached to the horse for fear of it having some fault that made it unsuitable, but at some point the Ardennes had won your heart. “Here, see this?” he pressed on the frog of Cliff’s hoof, had you do the same, felt it move beneath your fingers, “that’s what you want it to feel like. And what the hoof should look like, anyways. No cracks or nothin’,” and you grinned, so far he was passing muster it seemed like!
 He tugged you back to stand and look at how Cliff was standing, “Now, see how he’s standin’? Never even think of buy a horse who stands any other way, some horses stand with their legs well ahead of them. You ever see a horse like that, you walk right away and don’t buy a horse from that stable ever, that’s a sick horse and it’ll go out from under you ‘for you make it home.” you nodded seriously, trying to picture a horse standing that way, but couldn’t, although it sounded like it was distinct enough that you’d be able to recognize it when you saw it.
 “That’s called founder,” Eris called out, approaching and patting Cliff on the neck, “where their hooves get all swolle’ up, hurts ‘em somethin’ fierce, kindest to put ‘em down when they get it. Usually see it in fat horses, or unshod work horses,” he frowned, picking up Cliff’s hooves to give them a quick lookover, and you grinned at Hosea proudly— see? you seemed to say, this is why I come to him even when the other stables are closer, he gives a damn!—and he shook his head with a pat on your shoulder.
Carefully, Hosea reached for the gelding’s face—he didn’t know if he was head shy, which would be a deal-breaker if he was, of course, and didn't fancy being bitten. But while Cliff eyed him as though to say ‘what do you think you’re doing old man?’ he allowed him to do so, urging him to open his mouth so he could examine his teeth.
 “Here, see? You want to make sure he’s not got any lumps or wounds in his mouth, those are from bad teeth and can make even the sweetest horse sour. And always check a horse’s teeth, make sure they ain’t too long, or too short or worn, and that there ain’t any missin’.”
 “And see his eyes?” he let the horse close his mouth, stroking his velvety nose to thank him for being such a good sport about it, “they should be clear and bright, means he can see you and won’t kick you clear across camp just for the sin of walking up to him.” you snorted, “Well, at least he shouldn’t.”
 Hosea patted Cliff on the neck, gesturing you to follow him as he led you to the horse’s side, running his fingers down his flank, “Here, feel his ribs?” You nodded with a ‘yeah’, and scratched his fur for good measure, “That’s what you want, but you shouldn’t be able to see them easily, that means he’s underweight. If you can’t feel them, though, or if you have to make an effort too, then he’s too heavy.” His lips twitched up into a grin, and you eyed him warily, “It’s why you don’t want to buy from Saint Denis’ stable, all the horses there’ll be fat as their masters.”
 Eris gave a startled bark of laughter.
 Hosea allowed his fingers to run along some of the gelding’s muscles appreciatively, before scratching his shoulder to thank him for putting up with his inspection and stepping back. “Can she ride him?” and you brightened—so you had his approval? Well, at least so far?
 “A’course,” Eris nodded, and disappeared into the nearby shack to grab his tack, and you turned to Hosea.
 “So...  what-what do you think of him so far?”
 Hosea hesitated, thinking, “Well, he seems like he’s in good shape. Good teeth, good hooves, good build. And seems like he has a good temperament, considering he let me manhandle him.” You perked up—so he liked him? “Although are you sure you can handle so much horse? He is pretty big.”
 “I’ve ridden bigger!” you were quick to say, “I’ve had a few Shires, and they’re a lot bigger. ‘Sides, a big horse’ll be useful for my bounty hunting, don’t you think? And for,” you looked to the tack shed, “for trick ridin’ and things.” Even though Eris was out of earshot, it was better to be safe than sorry.
 He nodded, had to acquiesce, “Just gotta make sure you can handle him first, he’s a different breed, so he’ll handle differently.”
 “Yessir,” you hummed, watching as Eris returned, massive saddle in hand. And it was true, while Cliff was smaller than the Shires, he was wider, and squatter, so he’d be a lot different when it came to turning, jumping, and all those important things.
 Eris helped you to tack Cliff up, with Hosea standing nearby to watch the horse, see how he reacted. Make sure he didn’t have any common vices—didn’t suck in his breath so the belly-strap would be loose, didn’t stamp his hooves or pull his head back when you reached up to put the bit in his mouth. But though the flesh of his stomach twitched as you cinched the strap, he stood still aside from the flicking of his tail to swat away flies, happily accepting a sugar cube you offered him when you finished.
 Grabbing his lead-rope, you led him to the paddock, testing how he followed, and though he was much larger than you he followed along like a loyal hound, strides short to account for your slow pace, although he did lower his head to snuffle at your pocket in search of further treats he stopped when you pushed his massive head away, blowing as though in apology.
 “Alright, let’s see you ride him then, up you get!” Hosea called, leaning on the fence after closing the gate behind you. It took a bit of a hop to get your foot into the stirrup, but you wouldn’t always have the luxury of a stump or fence to help you reach his saddle, and that was a nasty habit to get into besides, so you got comfortable in his saddle, giving him a moment to adjust to your weight. He was a bit wide between your legs, but you’d get used to it eventually, you knew.
 “Good boy,” you crooned, stretched forward to scratch his neck—and carefully test how he’d react to a drastic change in balance on his back.
 “Walk him,” Hosea called your name, “just see how he rides at first,” and so you did, cueing him to walk. He did so readily, beginning to plod forward beneath you. Like any war horse you’d ridden, his stride wasn’t the smoothest, but that was to be expected and so you adjusted for it, moving with him easily. Hosea’s eyes burned holes in you as you rode him slowly around the paddock once, and once you looked up to find him staring at Cliff, eyeing his legs, his body, his stride.
 “Trot him,” he called out simply as you passed him, having finished a walking lap, and so you squeezed your calves to speed him up, but he didn’t speed up, continuing to trot, and your heart sunk to your stomach, you’d gotten your hopes up, he’d been so perfect
 “Kiss him,” Eris was quick to correct you, and you clicked your tongue with a squeeze of your calves in time with his stride and that time he obeyed his stride picking up into a bouncing trot that you were quick to post, not wanting to rattle your teeth out of your head. You loved wars, they were nice for hard work, but christ if they weren’t painful trotters! You could see Hosea frowning, and knew what he was thinking, and agreed—you’d have to train him out of the kiss, he’d need to learn to respond to just body cues, but he couldn’t be perfect.
 He trotted a ring around the paddock once, twice, three times, and you found yourself worrying, had Hosea noticed something you hadn’t? Was there something that had been hid by the bounce of his trot? But, finally, as you passed him a fourth time, he called out “Canter,” and you forgot to cluck as you cued him to canter, but he still did as asked and you wondered if he’d only been trained to respond to a kiss for a trot and why , but his canter was much smoother, rocking beneath you as you shifted from the post to sit deep in his saddle, enjoying the swaying motion—you’d always enjoyed war horse’s canters, they were always nice, riding him a few times around the paddock.
“Alright,” Hosea called out, and you eased him to a stop in front of the pair; from the amused look on your ‘father’s’ face you were beaming from ear to ear but you couldn’t help it, you’d had a blast!
 “You can use the fence if you need to see how he jumps,” Eris offered, and some of the tension left your shoulders even as you looked at Hosea, who nodded. That was very important in… well, everything you did, to be quite honest, so you trotted him to the far side of the paddock and kissed him into a trot, shifting as he leaped the fence, his landing rather harsh, cueing him into a canter and swinging him around, jumping the fence again and finding the landing much kinder to your everything, throwing a thumbs-up to Hosea before walking Cliff up to them with a fond thump to his neck.
“He rides beautifully, what do you think?” Hosea asked, although from the quirk of his lips you knew you were still beaming,
 “His trot is a bit rough,” you admitted, “but I was expecting that.” and he inclined his head, glad that you’d been honest. “Need to try his gallop.”
 “Mr. Feldman (“Call me Eris”) said we’re welcome to use the driveway to give him a run,” he gestured to the wide pathway and you nodded, looking to see if there were any deer, why deer were so attracted to that spot you hadn’t a clue, before cueing him into a trot, then a canter, and then a gallop that took your breath away, so smooth that you barely felt the movement of his hindquarters, stretching out with him and laughing, swinging him around and racing back to the pair, easing him to a stop though you wanted to gallop forever—he wasn’t fast, not faster than Rosie by halves, but his gallop was so wonderfully smooth you felt you could ride it for hours.
 “How does it feel?” Hosea asked, and you nodded,
 “Felt nice, ain’t got any complaints about it.” you swung down from your perch, patting the gelding on the neck and crooning love words as you led him back into the paddock, Hosea walking behind the pair of you to see how the horse walked over a decent work-out, whether he’d gone stiff or any sort of lame.
 “You want to use my gun, or yours?” Eris asked Hosea, while you turned the gelding out into the pasture, patting him on the rump to send him trotting in without you. Hosea pulled out his own pistol in reply,
 “I’d rather use mine, since it’s what he’ll be hearing,” and Eris nodded, the both of you stepping back as Hosea aimed his gun at a tree not far away, firing one, two, three times, keeping a critical eye on the Ardennes.
 Cliff raised his head from where he’d been grazing, staring at Hosea in some sort of alarm, ears up and eyes wide. But he didn’t buck, didn’t rear or bolt, and that was good enough. A horse that didn’t react would be as bad as one that fled or fought you, so you grinned, jogging into the pasture to bring him back as Hosea holstered his gun.
Eris hung back to give you a moment to talk, and you looked at Hosea hopefully as you stroked along the ruddy fur of Cliff’s neck, “What do you think?” you asked hopefully, praying that he’d give Cliff the Official Hosea Matthews Stamp of Approval™.
 “Well,” he said, giving him a final look over, “He rides beautifully, though you’d need to train the kiss out of his trot,” you nodded, already knowing that, “and I can’t find anything wrong with him, his hooves and his teeth and his body are all good.” Your eyes widened, hand stilling on his neck. “And he didn’t react much to my gun.”
 He seemed to get sick of holding you in suspense, and nodded, “I think he’s a good horse, well worth the money.”
 You beamed, fought the urge to whoop, and despite yourself, hugged him. He stiffened, startled, but patted you on the back.
When Eris came inside, you were quick to say you’d decided to purchase the gelding, handing over the money and, after a moment’s thought, choosing to rename him, ‘Cassim’ fit the horse a helluva lot better than ‘Cliff’, and paid for some new take as well seeing as Rosie’s wouldn’t fit him by a long shot.
 Rosie stared him down when you led him out to her, giving him a true mare face, but he didn’t react any, and so she acquiesced to trot beside him as you followed Hosea back to camp, sitting tall and proud atop your new horse, unable to wipe the grin from your face.
As it turned out, Cassim was bulletproof except when it came to wolves. You came back one day, soaked to the bone with mud, scowling, a stack of wolf pelts on his rump.
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asoiafdrabbles · 4 years
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III.20
Arthur is once more on the hunt for an outlaw on the Kingswood, though this time he finds unexpected answers. 
Arthur & Jon (Rhaegar Won)
"Jon Snow! In the name of King Aegon the Sixth of his--"
Arthur cut off as the man in question turned, his dark eyes glinting purple in the sunlight. He knew that face well, and not because he'd been tracking the outlaw Jon Snow for a moon.
"...Prince Aemon."
Aemon smirked, in the hodgepodge clothing and fraying cloak he looked more like a scruffy bandit than a Prince of Dragonstone.
"...Somehow, I should have known. A Stark bastard this far South? No one questioned that Lord Brandon had another lying around, but he rarely came south of the Neck. And that you were harassing such a select crowd in the Kingswood?"
"Harassing is such a harsh word, Ser Arthur. We're simply...redistributing wealth."
Arthur already felt the headache coming. "The King has set out a bounty on Jon Snow's head, you realize. One that is very attractive to hedgeknights and their ilk."
Nodding, Aemon started picking up the supplies he'd dropped when Arthur had appeared. "I've run into some of those already. They're not very subtle."
"They could kill you."
Aemon smiled brightly. "Oh? Do you think your training is that bad, Ser?"
"My--your grace, you are well aware that anything can happen in a true fight with live steel. Whatever game you're playing--"
"It's not so much a game, Ser Arthur. Though I suppose you could call it a pass-time." He pulled up the hood of his cloak again and started towards the tired-looking mare in the corner of the camp.
"You're coming back with me, Prince Aemon." Arthur used the no-nonsense voice he'd had to use on the brothers often when they were children and was relieved to say Aemon hesitate. "You are a prince of the blood, heir to the throne. You can't be gallivanting with smallfolk, stealing from your brother's lords."
He motioned to the knights who he had brought to assist him with what he thought would be a long fight and Aemon was soon pouting and being shoved onto Arthur's own horse, not trusted to ride on his own.
"The smallfolk need the coin and supplies we were giving them!"
"You realize that, instead of becoming a criminal, you could have approached your brother with this issue."
Aemon laughed in Arthur's ear. "You can't be that naive, you know the highborn will just make excuses for why the smallfolk on their lands are destitute and hungry."
He knew that to be true--he'd seen it before, over and over, with groups just like the one Aemon had joined earning more respect from robbing the rich for a few months than the lords of the lands earned in generations. For as much power as Aegon had managed to amass, even he couldn't help the smallfolk if their lords didn't want to.
"When those posters came out, I should have had the men ransom me back," Aemon muttered, now slumped against Arthur and preparing to relax for the ride back to King's Landing. "At least it would have been worthwhile."
"I'm sure you'll find some other way to help, eventually, my prince. You've always been good at such things." Then he added, to cheer Aemon up, "And regardless of that, you did make some trouble for your Uncle Brandon."
Aemon laughed again, arms squeezing tighter around Arthur's waist. "Oh, I wish I could have seen his face when he thought he had another bastard about."
"You know your cousins have probably sent you a detailed description of the whole event, waiting for you back home."
"Stop it, Art, you're not going to make me happy to be going back to the snake pit."
"Your grace, being such a blatant liar doesn't suit you. After all, you haven't even heard my greatest effort to sweeten the event, yet."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"The Queen has returned from Dorne."
Again, those arms tightened, and Arthur could swear that even through his armor he could feel Aemon's nervous anticipation. "Rhae is really back? Already? I suppose it might be good you found me...I wouldn't want to keep her waiting long...."
King Aegon would be displeased with everyone involved in this incident, Arthur knew, even himself, for having to bring the truth to light, but Queen Rhaenys had a way of soothing her brothers that would surely have the whole event forgotten in a few days.
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