keptblck

[leneemusing]

misc sentence starters

“  i wish i knew how to talk about it.  ”   “  you don’t have to talk, we can just sit together.  ”   “  i don’t want to be alone anymore.  ”   “  i wish i could hate you.  ”  “  take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while.  ” “  i need you to trust me.  ”   “  i missed/miss you.  ”   “  she/he won’t listen to me.  ” “  let me do this for you. please.  ”   “  is there anything else you want to say to me?  ” “  tell me something happy.  ”   “  promise me.  ” “  i just want/wanted to help.  ”   “  let me explain.  ” “  i didn’t/don’t need you to understand, i just wanted/want you to support me.  ”   “  i’m on your side.  ” “  i’ve got your back, okay? ” “  please, tell me you have a plan.  ” “  stay with me tonight.  ” “  don’t go. please.  ”   “  i’ve been alone for so long i’m afraid i don’t know what it’s like not to be.  ”   “  talk to me.  ”   “  i did what i had to do.  ” “  we can’t keep going on like this.  ” “  i’m just tired.  ” “  i’m scared.  ” “  it’s okay to be afraid. fear can be good. use it.  ” “  it’s better to expect disappointment.  ” “  hope is dangerous.  ” “  i like seeing you smile.  ”   “  you look beautiful.  ”   “  be patient with her/him. they’re trying. ”   “  i’m trying my best and it’s not good enough. it’s never good enough. ” “  i’m starting to think i’m just fucked up.  ”   “  have a drink with me.  ” “  she/he is better off without me. but i guess that’s their choice.  ” “  you can’t dictate what’s best for someone else. ” “  can i help you?  ” “  i thought you’d like this.  ” “  do you wanna get out of here?  ” “  walk with me?  ” “  well, shit.  ”

[thatgovernmentboy]

In the middle of discussing a robbery.

Dutch: What’s worse than dying?

Dutch, removes a sign to reveal “Micah Dying.”

John and Arthur: Micah.

Dutch: NO.

[shittyrpstartersforpp]

Send me ‘HC’ + a word and I’ll tell you a headcanon about my muse(s) based on it.

[keptblck-blog]

hey it’s munday... me being buff as shit but in low quality becus my phone camera is broke below the cut. one like = 1x i bench you. this doesn’t do my abs justice though

[keptblck-blog]

[keptblck-blog]

*maidmess‌

❛   I  don’t  want  some  fancy  man  ,  arthur  morgan  .  you  think  I  would’ve  ever  bothered  with  you  if  that’s  what  I  wanted  ?   ❜   she  can  feel  that  crack  growing  deeper  as  his  words  continue  to  sting  .  as  her  thoughtless  mind  begins  raging  with  self  inflicted  wounds  .  mary  isn’t  perfect  ,  she  knows  .  there’s  so  many  things  she  wishes  she  could  change  about  herself  ,  but  she  can’t  .

perhaps  that’s  why  she  should  give  in  when  he  tells  her  to  .  a  hypocrite  she  was  …  trying  to  force  a  man  to  change  while  dangling  her  love  over  his  head  to  do  so  .  she  was  embarrassed  ,  ashamed   &   yet  she  did  nothing  .

❛   If  you  think  that’s  what  I  want  then  you  ain’t  been  payin’  attention  at  all  !  I  don’t  need  no  high  society  …  I  need  safety   &   security  .  I  want  you  ,  but  you  keep  denyin’  the  fact  that  your  life  ain’t  ever  gonna  give  me  those  things  I  need  .   ❜

❛ mary, why do you want me? ❜ it’s a rhetorical question, but arthur half asks it to see what the answer really might be. there such tragedy in confusion, such confusion in tragedy. his hand slowly falls away from her. he reserves back to himself. heavy headreminders drip from his nose, over lips pursed heavy, and down to his chin.

he bespeaks the philosophy he’s holds so dear. AN APOSTLE WRITING IN HIS LETTERS, answering questions in his wisdom that the citypeople beg of him. every word of it some utterance of a man before him. dutch and hosea’s rhetoric does not roll off, fine, from between his teeth; but in his head it is so steadfast and sure. 

❛ most folks find that safety and freedom is real separate from one another. you can’t have both. fancy man is safe, mary. i ain’t that to you. you’ve told me a million times i ain’t, ‘spite my knowing that i could be. if you need that totality, then you oughtta pick it already. save me the time and trouble. ❜ 

[keptblck-blog]

“ it’s okay to be afraid. fear can be good. use it. ”

❛ i ain’t afraid. i’m hardly that. ❜ his voice is stooped, low stone ruined by the smallest sense of the emotion that he so heavily denies. SAY NO TO ANYTHING WEAK. it’s a philosophy arthur has adopted throughout his life, and despite the gentle reassurance strung over him, he has no intention of changing it.

[keptblck-blog]

“  is there anything else you want to say to me?  ”

❛ ain’t much to say t’ someone that works as cheap as you do. ❜

[keptblck-blog]

*valianthunts‌

‘’You must’ve not heard ‘em on the way in.’’ Vague of him to say. But surely the other man might have at least FELT something odd about this place. These woods. While the soil might have seemed healthy, sprouting tall trees and thick grass and colorful weeds— this speck of earth was scorched. Giles intended to bring some kind of light back. Drive out and trap away what holed up itself up here. ‘‘— The stories I mean. Folk talk ‘bout it.’‘

The hunter gave a frown, shoulders shrugged lazily. Wasn’t any of his business what the man wanted to do. But he’d certainly prefer to cleanse the church on his own. It’d be safer that way and save him from the QUESTIONS afterwards.

‘‘Ain’t no crime— man’s free to go where he wants. Don’t mean it’s always the best place to be.’’ Chapped lips were dampened with a nervous lick. There was a slow nod of his head. Gaze quickly panned about the old broken church. As though he was looking for SOMETHING. Wood floors moaned and creaked as Giles stepped closer to the stranger. Voice lower, tone shifted, ‘’It’d be mighty wise if you did, friend. Not very nice here. Makes people SICK.’’

he wonders, briefly, what the history here was. some grand town epidemic of the revolutionary era, leaving wooden cabins sunken into the earth while the stone pillars of the church still stood? MAYBE. he can’t say it bothers him too much, though it explains the odd embrace the air takes him in. she is musted, she is cold. her fingers tap his neck and her nails scrape the vertebrae. 

❛ didn’t hear who...?❜ arthur questions, though complies. he furrows his brow as he approaches the stranger on his way out. there is a cottonball of FEAR in his mouth and each and every one of his words drip with it. he brushes against the pew, tries to soften the man’s expression.   ❛ sick don’t touch me no more, mister. sure the air ain’t gonna get to me too much. ❜

[keptblck-blog]

*maidmess‌

heartless  .  she  thinks  .  heartless  .  she  feels  .  empathy  gone  with  the  changing  of  tides  .  he’s  not  wrong   &   the  sensible  side  of  her  knows  he  isn’t  …  but  she  stomps  her  foot  in  anguish  ,  anger  .  stubbornness  breathing  life  into  those  bones  that  quake  too  easily  .  there’s  a  shake  of  her  head  ,  the  ease  of  a  sigh  turning  into  a  hiss  .

❛   yes  well  …  he  ain’t  killin’  people  for  it  is  he  ?     ❜

she  knows  it’s  a  blow  below  the  belt  .  knows  that  everything  this  man  did  was  out  of  love   &   loyalty  .  it’s  why  she  found  herself  free  in  his  presence  more  often  than  the  caged  bird  she  was  .  but  that  made  no  difference  .  moral  obligations  be  damned  ,  she  knows  the  type  of  man  he  could  be  if  he  placed  more  effort  into  himself  than  that  of  others  …  but  he  won’t  .  she  should  know  by  now  that  this  fight  was  pointless  .  that  she’d  lose  each   &   every  time  .

❛   it  don’t  matter  anymore  does  it  ?  we  keep  comin’  back  to  the  same  damn  argument  as  if  it’s  changed  now  .  we’re  fools  ,  Arthur  …   &   I  was  stupid  for  thinkin’  otherwise  .   ❜

it’s a truly odd paradox; to be called selfish for your selflessness. the labyrinth built from the bricks of this is an incomprehensible mess that hardly any man could come to navigate———  arthur included. he relents himself with a breath, a sharp and heavy inhalation. it brushes mary’s words aside like some great tornado so that he leaves unscathed despite their bite. WOLVES AND SOCIETY DO NOT MIX. debate the domestication of such in relation to this and you’d find that they’re inclined to return to themselves, anyway. not of hate. simply because their pack is what they know.

arthur morgan is a bit like that.

❛ i don’t know why you bother with me, mary. ❜  slowly he lifts a hand to her shoulder, fingers light but firm. hid eyes bore as hard as their words, but there’s tiredness. genuine tiredness. sleepy as the argument got, though, arthur doubts they’ll ever really go to bed.   ❛ y’want some fancy man rolling ‘round in high society with you, why don’t you find him, ‘stead of wishing i’d be so. I AIN’T THAT. i don’t know why you make me watch you want it so damn much. ❜

[leneemusing]

misc sentence starters

“  i wish i knew how to talk about it.  ”   “  you don’t have to talk, we can just sit together.  ”   “  i don’t want to be alone anymore.  ”   “  i wish i could hate you.  ”  “  take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while.  ” “  i need you to trust me.  ”   “  i missed/miss you.  ”   “  she/he won’t listen to me.  ” “  let me do this for you. please.  ”   “  is there anything else you want to say to me?  ” “  tell me something happy.  ”   “  promise me.  ” “  i just want/wanted to help.  ”   “  let me explain.  ” “  i didn’t/don’t need you to understand, i just wanted/want you to support me.  ”   “  i’m on your side.  ” “  i’ve got your back, okay? ” “  please, tell me you have a plan.  ” “  stay with me tonight.  ” “  don’t go. please.  ”   “  i’ve been alone for so long i’m afraid i don’t know what it’s like not to be.  ”   “  talk to me.  ”   “  i did what i had to do.  ” “  we can’t keep going on like this.  ” “  i’m just tired.  ” “  i’m scared.  ” “  it’s okay to be afraid. fear can be good. use it.  ” “  it’s better to expect disappointment.  ” “  hope is dangerous.  ” “  i like seeing you smile.  ”   “  you look beautiful.  ”   “  be patient with her/him. they’re trying. ”   “  i’m trying my best and it’s not good enough. it’s never good enough. ” “  i’m starting to think i’m just fucked up.  ”   “  have a drink with me.  ” “  she/he is better off without me. but i guess that’s their choice.  ” “  you can’t dictate what’s best for someone else. ” “  can i help you?  ” “  i thought you’d like this.  ” “  do you wanna get out of here?  ” “  walk with me?  ” “  well, shit.  ”

[keptblck-blog]

Doing all replies tomorrow! Sorry for the waits. I have a few things in drafts and they’ll be sent out gradually. In the meantime like this if you wanna plot or anything :-)

[keptblck-blog]

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[rdrrpmasterlist]

Hello, partner! Looking for other folks in the Red Dead Redemption roleplaying community? Or perhaps you’re a mun with a muse outside the fandom with a RDR verse? Then you’ve come to the right place! This is a masterlist to help people in the community find each other!

The link to the masterlist is HERE, and you’ll be added to it when you reblog this post! To be able to categorize everyone correctly, you need to add some details in your tags upon reblogging this. All that’s required is:

Your character’s name

Whether they’re a canon character or OC

If they’re on a single muse blog (1 character) or multimuse blog (multiple characters)

Here’s a tag example: #john marston; canon; single muse blog

[menkhud-deactivated20211206]

HE     IS     HESITANT.    AN     AWKWARD     STANDSTILL        evident  in  the  crisp  night  air.    fingers  twitch  ,  dancing  as  a  chill  runs  through  him  ,  stopping  him  dead  in  his  tracks  just  before  reaching  his  destination.    it  has  been  a  couple  days  since  arthur  practically  crawled  back  into  camp  after  being  captured  by  the  o’driscoll’s.    (    IT   WAS   ONLY   A   COUPLE   DAYS   AGO   THAT   ARTHUR   COULD   HAVE   POSSIBLY   DIED   AND   NEVER   BEEN   SEEN   AGAIN.    )    the  lack  of  effort  put  into  trying  to  find  the  outlaw  was  concerning  to  say  the  very  least.    that’s  why  hosea  took  matters  into  his  own  hands  ,  venturing  out  to  try  and  find  him  when  he  had  a  moment  to  slip  away  unnoticed.    and  oh  how   RELIEVED   he  was  to  find  out  that  arthur  had  returned  while  he  was  out  searching  ,  but  that  didn’t  make  him  forget  the  whispers  that  lingered  around  camp  in  his  absence.

a  certain  someone’s  voice  rings  in  his  head   ‘  he’ll  be  fine   !   he’ll  show  up  in  a  day  or  so.   THEY   WONT   KILL   HIM.  ‘  all  of  it  was   LIES.    a  snake  of  a  man  among  a  crowd  of  sheep  blind  by  his  careless  words    —-    MICAH.    why  dutch  still  listened  to  him  was  beyond  hosea  ,  as  he  has  never  truly  trusted  the  man  ,  but  he  has  never  said  anything  against  him  either.    there  was  no  need  to  cause  unnecessary  drama  without  a  reason  to  distrust.    of  course  ,  until  now.    hosea  was   FURIOUS  ,  but  no  one  would  be  able  to  tell  until  he  opened  his  mouth  to  speak  his  mind.

finally  ,  he  finds  the  courage  to  step  forward  ,  stopping  at  the  foot  of  arthur’s  bed.    it  was  late  so  he  half  expected  him  to  be  asleep  ,  but  low  and  behold  he  was  awake  ,  sitting  up  in  bed  when  he  should  be  getting  some  rest.     ❛    hey   arthur   …    ❜    his  voice  is  low  ,  not  wanting  to  startle  the  man  with  his  sudden  presence     ❛    how’ya   feeling   ?    ❜

@keptblck   / /   SC.

[keptblck-blog]

(answered on mobile)

the nagging pain in his shoulder doesn’t keep his eyes from shutting, but recollection of the night before does the trick. arthur morgan isn’t much of a skeptic, not yet; or not towards this, at least. it doesn’t bother him that the gang didn’t come to his rescue, doesn’t bother him that he crawled out of that hell on his own, or that he dug the bullet out from the wound and held a flame to it himself. nothing really bothered him, particularly. he was just glad that no-one fell for the o’driscoll trap.

from his collapse at his horse, this was first time he hasn’t been disorientated. the first time that figures weren’t faint and his body wasn’t ragged with sharp pain— now it was nice and dull, leaving a sickly-sweet taste in his mouth to keep him content. his eyes are sharp again; they’ve adjusted to the dark of his tent and he sees when hosea comes in long before he’s lit the lantern to his bedside.

he wasn’t in camp when he arrived; he didn’t lift him from the ground as dutch had, but he’s here now and his words seem kinder than the thrum of salvation that had touched him earlier.

“i’m feelin’ alright,” arthur weakly gestures to himself, finger crooked to the bandages around his shoulder. “it’s not awful, could’ve been much worse.”

[keptblck-blog]

sorry for so much non-rp stuff and mobile posts but me and my boyf today :-) im so proud

[keptblck-blog]

“What’s holding you back?”

(answered on mobile)

there’s much to unload with an answer to that question, but rather than biting his lip and dismissing it, arthur decides to stop holding things so close to his chest. he’s not a secretive man, all things considered. he’s just one that doesn’t see the immediate value of emotional openness. there is weakness that lives, the deeper you journey, in the lake of his chest. it’s an ugly thing. it swims in the form of some pathetic looking fish, eyes blown and mouth agape as it struggles, inherently, to exist.

“it’s a long story, mary,” he starts glumly, though his words are not tight and there is no knot in his chest. “in my experience, things always come back. now i’ll happily call myself one of ‘em bad me , but,” arthur pauses, stopping himself for a second as he searches for the best words to use to describe it. graceful as he sometimes could be, his mind blanks. “bad things happen to bad people, and y’know, the opposite. i’ve seen good folk get hurt on behalf of their associating with myself.”

there is vastness in oceans and it is reasonable to want to see it all, and with everything in mind—— mary deserves to know it in full.

there’s a murmur of reflective sadness in his eyes, but they finally meet hers; and, meekly, arthur allows it. “i’ll tell you, if you want. but i don’t much like talking about it.”