...

UNDER CONSTRUCTION.

[kilg0re]

[ RELATIONSHIP/PLOTTING AD. ] 

By liking this post, you’re giving me permission to invade your DMs to plot! 

[kilg0re]

[ OOC ]

sorry for suddenly vanishing. i meant to be active last night, but i was looking after my grandma, and it took a *lot* more out of me than i anticipated.

hopefully i’ll get to being more active tonight after work! don’t wanna get swept up in the activity check… … ;;;

[kilg0re]

mxonkxss​:

“…” 

Lunacy plays around with the ring around her finger. The ring was a gift from someone important. A ring that bound them together. A promise of everlasting love for just the two of them. Though, it wasn’t directed to her and it was more for Kachina (that was who he knew the most), it didn’t give her a feeling of loneliness. What did? 

He wasn’t here. He wasn’t here to help her. To hold her hand and go through this journey with her. She didn’t HAVE Asher. How was it fair that Kachina had to wait, wait, and wait. How that girl remained so hopeful is beyond Lunacy. 

“Hm,” She hums, crimson reds stares off into the distance. When no one is here, the Golden Ward’s Beach is peaceful. Quiet. Just the way she likes it. Lunacy steps forward. With Kachina deep asleep at the back of her mind, she wouldn’t need to worry about the yappings that would soon come with Lunacy’s action. 

Lunacy steps into the wading waves. The cold and warmth of the waves doesn’t cause a reaction. She’s ankle deep now and easily, she pulls off that ring around her finger. 

“You’ll no longer bind us.” Asher was free. Asher was free and she should be happy, but….WHY did it hurt so much. It hurt more than any pain she’s gone through. 

IF THERE was one thing Arthur was learning rather quickly--it’s the bizarre nature of Radial’s inhabitants. Certainly, he’d met his fair share of strange, almost crazy individuals back home, but now, this feels like something out of campfire tale; one of those scary ones, meant to keep you wide awake and thinking about it’s ending, the entire night.

Cowboy boots crunch the sand beneath him with each step, spurs jingling in tandem. It’s quiet enough amongst the waves, Arthur keeping his distance from the stranger too close to the ocean for his own comfort. She’s small, frail; like one ravenous wave could rush in and sweep her out into nothing.

Nature was frightening, like that. 

She throws something, and the cowboy isn’t able to make out what it was among the darkness that paraded over them both--the time of night certainly didn’t help his vision, ears only to pick up on a gentle ‘PLOP!’ as the object meets the water.

Now, it wasn’t a great idea to pointlessly involve himself; especially when his gut told him to turn around, get out of here. Yet, what if something happened to her? Leaving someone behind like that, it would grate at his nerves; especially if her face popped up in a missing poster one week from now.

It would be more regret to shoulder, and lord knows he can’t carry much more.

“Miss--” Arthur clears his throat, approaching her. “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

[goodnightmemes]

BATMAN BEGINS (2005) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Finders keepers. ❜

❛ They are going to fight you. Until they kill you. ❜

❛ Can they kill me before breakfast? ❜

❛ How do you know my name? ❜

❛ Someone like you is only here by choice. ❜

❛ If you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if they can’t stop you, then you become something else entirely. ❜

❛ To manipulate the fears in others you must first master your own. ❜

❛ Death does not wait for you to be ready! Death is not considerate or fair! And make no mistake, here you face death. ❜

❛ And why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves up. ❜

❛ All creatures feel fear. ❜

❛ t’s okay. Don’t be afraid. ❜

❛ My anger outweighs my guilt. ❜

❛ Theatricality and deception are powerful agents. ❜

❛ I was forced to learn there are those without decency, who must be fought without hesitation, without pity. ❜

❛ Your anger gives you great power. But if you let it, it will destroy you. ❜

❛ I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to do with your past. Just know that there are those of us who care about what you do with your future. ❜

❛ Haven’t given up on me yet? ❜

❛ I don’t suppose there’s any way to convince you not to come. ❜

❛ Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could take back what I did. ❜

❛ You’re not talking about justice. You’re talking about revenge. ❜

❛ Justice is about harmony. Revenge is about you making yourself feel better. ❜

❛ Things are worse than ever here. ❜

❛ Your father would be ashamed of you. ❜

❛ I wouldn’t have a second’s hesitation of blowing your head off in front of them. ❜

❛ Now, that’s power you can’t buy. That’s the power of fear. ❜

❛ I’m not afraid of you. ❜

❛ Don’t come here with your anger, trying to prove something to yourself. ❜

❛ This is a world you’ll never understand. And you always fear what you don’t understand. ❜

❛ I lost many assumptions about the simple nature of right and wrong. ❜

❛ You fear your own power. You fear your anger…the drive to do great or terrible things. ❜

❛ To conquer fear, you must become fear. ❜

❛ Embrace your worst fear. Become one with the darkness. ❜

❛ Your compassion is a weakness your enemies will not share. ❜

❛ For your own sake, there is no turning back. ❜

❛ You’ve been gone a long time. ❜

❛ People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy. ❜

❛ As a man, I’m flesh and blood, I can be ignored, destroyed. But as a symbol….as a symbol, I can be incorruptible. I can be everlasting. ❜

❛ I couldn’t figure the legal ramifications of bringing you back from the dead. ❜

❛ Hey, I scratch your back, you scratch mine. ❜

❛ Maybe money isn’t as interesting to me as favors. ❜

❛ I am more than aware that you are not intimidated by me. But you know who I’m working for, and when he gets here– ❜

❛ You’re supposed to be dead. ❜

❛ This is where you belong. Welcome home. ❜

❛ Spelunking. Yeah, you know, cave diving? ❜

❛ I’m no rat. ❜

❛ In a town this bent, who’s there to rat to anyway? ❜

❛ Well, what is it today? More spelunking? ❜

❛ If you don’t want to tell me exactly what you’re doing….when I’m asked, I don’t have to lie. But don’t think of me as an idiot. ❜

❛ Does it come in black? ❜

❛ In the meantime, may I suggest you try to avoid landing on your head? ❜

❛ It’s time my enemies shared my dread. ❜

❛ Ignorance is bliss, my friend. Don’t burden yourself with the secrets of scary people. ❜

❛ They say it was just one guy. Or a creature. ❜

❛ Your theatrics made an impression. ❜

❛ Who knows, you start pretending to have fun, you might even have a little by accident. ❜

❛ Sir, the pool is for decoration, and your friends do not have swimwear. ❜

❛ Can’t change the world on your own. ❜

❛ All this…. It’s– It’s not me. Inside, I am…. I am more. ❜

❛ It’s not who you are underneath, it’s what you do that defines you. ❜

❛ See, I don’t go into business with a guy without finding out his dirty secrets. ❜

❛ Would you like to see my mask? ❜

❛ I think you’re trying to help. But I’ve been wrong before. ❜

❛ You look like a man who takes himself too seriously. ❜

❛ Do you want my opinion? You need to lighten up. ❜

❛ Well, you know how it is. You’re out at night, looking for kicks, someone’s passing around the weaponized hallucinogens… ❜

❛ Looks like someone’s been burning the candle at both ends. ❜

❛ My boss has been missing for days, which means I should probably start by looking at the bottom of the river. ❜

❛ I respect the mind’s power over the body. It’s why I do what I do. ❜

❛ He’s here. ❜

❛ What have you been doing here? Who are you working for? ❜

❛ Stay calm. You’ve been poisoned. ❜

❛ Where are we? Why did you bring me here? ❜

❛ I don’t have the luxury of friends. ❜

❛ I’m gonna give you a sedative. You’ll wake up back at home. ❜

❛ You’re getting lost inside this monster of yours. ❜

❛ I don’t care about my name. ❜

❛ It’s not just your name. It’s your father’s name. And it’s all that’s left of him. Don’t destroy it. ❜

❛ Oh, it’s too late. You can’t stop it now. ❜

❛ You’re not [name]. I watched him die. ❜

❛ Surely a man who spends his nights scrambling over the rooftops of Gotham wouldn’t begrudge me dual identities. ❜

❛ I warned you about compassion. ❜

❛ I want to thank you all for coming here tonight and drinking all of my booze. ❜

❛ Amusing. But pointless. None of these people have long to live. ❜

❛ Only a cynical man would call what these people have “lives,”. ❜

❛ Crime. Despair. This is not how man was supposed to live. ❜

❛ You were my greatest student. It should be you standing by my side. ❜

❛ When a forest grows too wild, a purging fire is inevitable and natural. ❜

❛ Tomorrow the world will watch in horror as its greatest city destroys itself. ❜

❛ Like your father, you lack the courage to do all that is necessary. ❜

❛ If someone stands in the way of true justice, you simply walk up behind them and stab them in the heart. ❜

❛ You never did learn to mind your surroundings. ❜

❛ You burned my house and left me for dead. Consider us even. ❜

❛ What is the point of all those pushups if you can’t even lift a bloody log? ❜

❛ You still haven’t given up on me? ❜

❛ It’s okay, it’s okay. No one’s gonna hurt you. ❜

❛ There is nothing to fear but fear itself! ❜

❛ Wait. You could die. At least tell me your name. ❜

❛ Well, well. You took my advice about theatricality a bit literally. ❜

❛ Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a city to destroy. ❜

❛ Have you finally learned to do what is necessary? ❜

❛ I won’t kill you…but I don’t have to save you. ❜

❛ I was a coward with a gun, and justice is about more than revenge, so thank you. ❜

❛ I never stopped thinking about you. About us. ❜

❛ And when I heard you were back, l…. I started to hope. ❜

❛ The man I loved…the man who vanished…he never came back at all. But maybe he’s still out there somewhere. ❜

❛ I never said thank you. ❜

❛ “I never said thank you. ❜  –  ❛ And you’ll never have to. ❜

[kilg0re]

porteurdereve​:

The silence from Arthur doesn’t go unnoticed by G’raha Tia, though he doesn’t press the matter. He allows him to take his time with his answer, appreciating that the other reflects before replying. All too often, he’s met people who spoke without thinking. Many of his friends did the same, mainly Thancred. While the man had astounding intelligence in military and aetherial affairs, he was always ready to jump into action than sit around and think.

G’raha looks across the lake as he sips his drink, his mind trailing off to one person that always seems to occupy his thoughts. The click of the mug warrants G’raha’s ears to twitch, and he turns his eyes to Arthur. When he speaks of the date, G’raha visibly flinches. So far in the future, he thinks initially, though he recoils that thought. Arthur has never seen a Miqo’te before, so he assumes that his world is one of the remaining Reflections that did not share the same species. He wonders if only Hyurs like himself exist, maybe Elezen if possible.

“Interesting,” G’raha says with a smile, “1899 is far in the future from where I come from, at least three hundred years. However, the architecture here is not all, unlike home. Albeit, most of the immense structures exist in Ishgard, the Empire, and what remains of the Allagan Empire.” G’raha’s ears slightly flatten when he realizes he is rambling again. “But I digress. ‘Tis natural to feel kin to a fish out of water here. Needn’t be so difficult. Whilst I have only been here less than a few days myself, ‘tis be a pleasure to help you become acquainted with your temporary home.” G’raha nods with determination, “If you need anything, pray don’t hesitate to ask.”

G’raha lifts his coffee to his lips again, taking in a tiny whiff of the coffee before pausing to sip. When he sets it down, he begins again, “Now then, mayhaps tell me of your occupation? ‘Tis easier to locate a job if I am familiar with your skills.“

ARTHUR WAS expecting G’raha to be shocked, but not for the reasons the catboy had suggested; three hundred years in the past, it’s a lot to digest, to think about and consider--what life must’ve been like back then, the cowboy cannot even begin to comprehend. 

There’s so much he doesn’t know, in actuality.

What he does know, however, is that G’raha Tia talks more than enough to fill the dead air; which is a relief, because the last thing Arthur wants to do is retell his life story to a complete stranger.

“A JOB?” The outlaw smirks at the prospect. A career, with his qualifications?

Taking another gulp of his coffee, thick brows furrow as Arthur considers his skillset for a moment. This form of self-reflection is less than familiar to him; the world moves far too fast for him to sit down and genuinely think about it.

The brunette leans over the dining table, rough hands and wizened fingers twiddling as he contemplates his options.

IT WOULD BE FOOLISH to inform the other man of his true occupation; his existence as a criminal, playing a false robinhood while freeloading off of the natural world surrounding him and his family.

“I...appreciate the thought, mister, but, really,” waving his hand, Arthur adjusts his hat, finishing his beverage and getting ready to take his leave. “I can...figure it out myself.” Maybe. “I don’t much think you could help me, anyway.”

To himself, Arthur Morgan was beyond help, a lost soul destined to forever die cooped up in a hole somewhere. Perhaps it’s his poor self esteem, or maybe his inability to accept support from those around him, but he’d feel much better not wasting G’raha’s time. 

[kilg0re]

outlawing​:

family reunion.

continued from here.

There is a certain sense of  familiarity  that comes from being surrounded by nature. Whether it’s the labyrinthine intimacy of a dense forest or the open plains, there is comfort in being the only human soul in sight, alone with the world. There’s  loneliness  as well, but that, too, is familiar.

Yet there is a familiarity to these woods that is unique to them; something that calls back to the warmth of West Elizabeth and the danger lurking amidst the trees of New Hanover.  Don’t let your guard down,  the forest seems to say.

But it ain’t a warning enough.

When at last he finds a second soul among the wilderness, John’s sure it’s his eyes playing tricks on him. It’s easy to be mistaken with all this fog about, after all; and the man he’s looking at can’t possibly be… No, it has to be some poor stranger, unfortunate enough to have the same shape of the man he… the man he’s thinking of. So he calls out to him impersonally, only to be taken aback by the familiarity he finds here, too.

“Arthur?”

But those eyes — that voice — and that familiar gait as he approaches, step by uncertain step.

John looks back him, eyes wide and frankly, disbelieving.

“You —  I’m  alive?” Alive, certainly. Awake — he isn’t sure. “That I am,” he says simply, “but ain’t this one hell of a dream.”

A DREAM, he calls it; a majority of Arthur wishes that were the case, and yet, he’d pinched himself far too many times for comfort. They’re in the same boat, feeling as though the scenery--and maybe the world itself--were playing tricks on their eyes.

Yet, despite everything, the disbelief and uncertainty, both Arthur Morgan and John Marston stood here; facing a future too unknown to the both of them. 

The stress lines in his forehead furrow with thick eyebrows, Arthur huffs in amusement, “A dream? You’re tellin’ me.” Eyes scan up and down his brother’s outline; John looks older, but then again, neither of them were exactly young, anymore. 

Still, he’s relieved, and it feels only fitting that they meet each other here--Arthur wants to get his hopes up, too, but perhaps it’s too early in the game to do so. If John was here...what about everybody else? Dutch, Hosea, Charles--

What if they were here? Then again, what if they weren’t?

Shelf that thought for now, the cowboy decides, all before huffing through his nose. “Seems there ain’t much comfort here, for folk like us.” Looking around, Arthur checks his surroundings; it was too early to call, but they were safe--for now. 

“Not much different from the usual, I suppose.”

[kilg0re]

porteurdereve​:

The hesitancy on the man’s face is evident in his new arrival. Of course, he had conflicts about arriving at this star before running into a dear friend. When the rugged man named Arthur reaches out, G’raha takes his hand with his two palms. He bounces their hands up and down with a warm, welcoming shake.

“‘Tis a pleasure, Arthur. Needn’t worry. Whilst this star may seem unlike your home, it may not be an unpleasant experience.” G’raha releases his hands before gesturing for Arthur to follow him. “Pray come with me; there is a place you may rest.” G’raha starts to lead the man with the distinct, albeit familiar smell through the new city. 

In a short amount of time, G’raha approaches the NokNok Cafe. A quaint café in the lush section of the city. The cafe overlooks a beautiful lake, allowing its customers to take a much-needed rest from the bustling city. G’raha enters the cafe, waving at a few people currently on the hour before he motions for Arthur to sit.

After a short moment apart, G’raha sets down a mug of hot coffee in front of the man. “Now then, pray tell me about yourself and your home. I will happily oblige with tales of my own star.” G’raha leans back in his chair, taking a ginger sip of his coffee to allow space for Arthur to speak.

ONE MOMENT, Arthur is staring a little too long at those ears of his, and the next, he’s found sitting across from his newfound acquaintance; the coffee is welcomed, dark as ever--certainly, he wouldn’t have it any other way--eyes following the steady streaks of steam that arose from the mug with a thoughtful expression.

You know, despite his surprise, the outlaw feels fairly at ease with the miqo’te; even if he weren’t able to digest and get past the notable features of his feline-earred friend--there’s comfort, safety.

Perhaps, it’s the lack of A GUN TO HIS HEAD for daring question the other man’s appearance. There’s no present threat, not to his life, not to others.

The brunette hums, scratching the loose stubble surrounding his chin. “...My home...” It’s a glaringly simple question, the one G’raha proposed, and yet--

It dawns on Arthur Morgan.

Everything and anything, it was never about himself, but others, so to be prompted with any form of outward self-reflection--he’d monologued many times before, this was different.--posed a problem.

Arthur swallows this realization along with a sip of his own beverage, downing the liquid despite the scalding temperature.

The thick mug meets the table with a soft ‘clink!’, and he’s finally able to muster up a proper response. “It’s 1899, where I’m from...couldn’t much guess what year it might be, now, lookin’ at the outside.” He blinks once, then twice, all before making a gesture with his hand. “None a’ these...tall, bricked buildings...all them fancy windows. THE MISTLANDS is the closest thing t’home, I’ve found.”

[kilg0re]

[ OOC. ]

help girl they changed everything . how do i shorten reblogs .

[tekehu-archive]

RED DEAD REDEMPTION II • scenery [10/?]

[kilg0re]

@sanpatron​ // plotted starter. 

RADIAL ISLAND was no place for an old soul like Arthur Morgan. The isle and it’s inhabitants were more than just a few steps in the future, outlaw certainly set back in keeping up with the times. To him, home was horses, long open fields, and little bits of settlement, where one could find it. The presence of uncivilized folk had certainly been dwindling, the Van Der Linde gang slowly succumbing to the whale that was the future.

CIVILIZATION. 

A word that invokes fear; one that spoke of Arthur’s fate without needing to say the quiet part out loud. Him and the gang, they were going to be destroyed by it, the new world and civilized land, or so Dutch had told them.

So color Arthur Morgan shocked when nothing had changed; sure, the scenery had grown foreign, between the flickering bright bar lights and the mess of people, drunk beyond recognition or shouting over the bustling music that reverberated through DIONYSUS CHALICE--human nature was still the same, crass and inebriated. 

Despite all his fears, he could not help but feel a little more at ease; times had changed, and yet people had not.

The outlaw quietly sits himself atop a free bar stool, gesturing to the bartender to get him a simple beer. You could get anything here, a passing stranger told him--however, Arthur didn’t much feel like making a fool of himself, nor did he care for it. 

Taking a humble sip, the brunette turns to the nearest patron, thick eyebrows furrowing beneath his worn, black hat. 

“...I’ve never much seen this many people in my life.”

[kilg0re]

He’s staring at his goofy, teeny BB gun. 

This feels like a sick, cruel joke. 

[kilg0re]

@porteurdereve // cont.

---

‘ARE YOU new to this star?’ the catboy asks, and Arthur feels like he’s living in one of those fantasy novels--the kind he’d ask Mary-Beth about while she’s sat under her tent, reading. 

In fact, the cowboy has to internally dissect each and every inch of the miqo’te’s verbiage, accent foreign to the ears; wherever Arthur Morgan was, he was far from home. 

An uncertain nod, lips curl into an equally unsure smile--eyebrows shoot upward upon witnessing the swish of the other man’s tail, “Well now,” Arthur presses fingers to the back of his neck, two digits busying themselves in playing with loose strands at his hairline. “new, maybe, maybe not.”

G’raha Tia. What an interesting fellow. G’raha seemed to have plenty of parlor tricks up his sleeve, at least in Arthur’s eyes; surely, the tails and ears were fake, and the criminal was seeing things...

Maybe. 

“Arthur.” He responds flatly as a huff escapes his nose. The brunette holds out his hand, offering a meaningful handshake, if G’raha were willing to take it. 

As unresolved as he was about the red-headed stranger, it would be rude not to introduce himself; what’s more, it would be stupid of him to cause a fuss, too--after all, he’d just gotten here.

Alone with nothing but a BB gun and the clothes on his back, Arthur Morgan needed as many allies as humanly possible. 

[kilg0re]

[ OOC. ]

I have some GENERAL HOUSEKEEPING that needs to be done; updating the stats page, turning the plain text of my application into a page in itself (rather than a google doc), etc. 

Things may not be updated or taken care of tonight, please bear with me! 

[kilg0re]

He’s stunned, particularly at the large amount of anime boys with strangely-colored hair. 

[kilg0re]

who the hell are you

IT'S ENOUGH to jolt the cowboy out of his peaceful silence, his fixation upon his newly retrieved sketchbook--a black one, plain and cheap; the way it's bound but only confused him, round metallic spring keeping pages in place, rather than the traditional leather book binding Arthur had been so familiar with--a classic NO. 2 pencil in hand, worn fingers sketching the fauna and plant life he'd been dauntingly comfortable with.

Anything to get away from the oh-so frightening surroundings of RADIAL ISLAND; it's strangeness perturbed him, a distant future featuring nothing like the intimate aesthetic and livelihood of the Wild West.

THE MISTWOODS was his favorite location, one Arthur Morgan had quickly attached himself to; despite the distant noises--ones deranged and almost eldritch--the outlaw could not help but be drawn to the area, nature and wildlife enough to provide him some semblance of safety in this new, unforgiving world.

It's why he's caught off-guard in the first place, Arthur darting his head upward from beneath his gambler hat toward the voice filling his ears--something safe and cozy amidst the unknown.

The voice is almost gravel-y, tinged with a slick cowboy-drawl, tired; frustrated.

Eyes widen, but despite everything Arthur is able to keep his cool, only emotions expressed being shock in those ocean irises of his.

John.

Clasping his journal shut with a soft, 'FWUMP!', Arthur steadily approaches his brother-in-arms, boots creating a soft crunch beneath his feet with each step.

"... ... ..." Silence, ever so usual of Arthur Morgan, only ever speaking up when it was necessary; more than that, the brunette can't help but be at a loss for words, after all--he thought he'd been alone.

Yet, despite that, here John Marston was--in the flesh.

"You're alive."

[foundynnel-deactivated20231030]

[itspapillonnoir-deactivated2023]