＊ 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐌 / 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐍 . ＊ independent , selective , private . ː 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧 from rockstar's 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 ➁ . penned by kat , she/her , 28. a study in ː the reclamation of the self , preservation of the moral code in sedition , and the perpetuation of circumstantial change .
i always knew you had to be willin' to die to even do this job . but , i don't want to push my chips forward and go out and meet somethin' i don't understand . a man would have to put his soul at hazard . he'd have to say : ' o.k., i'll be part of this world . '
⁰¹⋆ carrd. ⁰²⋆ pinterest. ⁰³⋆ spotify. ⁰⁴⋆ prompts. ⁰⁵⋆ hcs.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⁰⁶⋆ tyler owens. ( if i'm not here , i'm there )
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤtruncated rules under the cut.
⁰¹⋆ on followers + following . no minors please . in fact , i'd be more comfortable with people over the age of 21 due to my own age . i am not interested in keeping a large following of people i do not interact with , or who do not at least like my posts every once in a while . whenever i'm on the dash , i try to do the same courtesy . also , sometimes i don't keep up with developments in the rpc , so if you ever see me interacting with anyone who has been proven to be problematic in the past or even recently , please let me know so that i can cut it off .
⁰²⋆ on shipping . like everyone , i love shipping , but i'm not someone wants to jump into it without proper development beforehand . i prioritise and often populate my blogs with primarily platonic or non-ship-oriented threads . i practice ship exclusivity , which means i will only ship with one version of a character , and i expect the same courtesy . if your muse ships with another arthur , unless you are a very very close friend , i will not ship him with that muse , period . [ … ] on a related note , please don't ask to write smut if we barely know each other and / or haven't written any "regular" threads together . i do write smut with those i ship with , mostly on discord , but pwp doesn't interest me at all , so save us both time and don't ask . i'd write 10 fluff threads over a smut thread any day . my thoughts on the matter . i am also not open to shipping if we don't at least write threads on here . again , i am not interested in immediately shipping if we don't have something built up first , and it makes me feel like people don't appreciate it if they don't at least try to answer asks that i send or write some form of thread on here .
⁰³⋆ IMPORTANT . i understand that arthur is a canon character and everyone's interpretations of him are different . but please do not impose what you think arthur would do or how he would react on my interpretation . please also do not try to ship without first plotting out a thorough friendship between them , because both i and arthur need chemistry in order for that to work . otherwise i personally will not be invested . arthur is demisexual and won't form any sexual attraction for anyone until he has a strong connection with them , and no , just saying "they've been friends" is not good enough for me .
⁰⁴⋆ on content . triggering content will be present on this blog , due to the nature of the game and my own writing . i tag all my triggers with "trigger //" for reference . most importantly , there will be mentions of terminal illness // here .
⁰⁵⋆ on activity . i work a full time job , monday-friday . please respect that in regards to my activity . my other blog is penddraig . hi . :)
⁰⁶⋆ if you could like this post after reading my rules , i would appreciate it . this is not mandatory , for those of you who are anxious about it . i just like knowing and i like a little interaction . i hope my rules don't sound too harsh to all of you . i promise i'm not mean !! i'm just old , i've been in the rpc for a long time , and want to nip issues i've encountered in the bud before they start .
i've lost my memory for whatever reason and i don't know who you are but i just have a feeling that i'm supposed to trust you (said feeling is completely wrong and it's an enemy of some sorts)
he makes threats so easily : he has no fuckin' idea who she is, then. in truth, a part of her almost likes it that way (without her father's reputation held over her like a painful reminder of everything she wasn't, she has no one else to be but herself, for whatever that means-- whatever thoughts he has of her, it is clear that they come from who she is, not whose last name fits over her like a noose). sure, it didn't seem like he had the best impression of her, but at least it was a honest one. her impression of him, though, is tainted. thought she might not be able to pick his face out from the thousand of wanted posters that litter their tiny town, he still stinks of trouble.
" if you came in here with your gun out, sally would match you blow for blow, sweetheart. " it is almost a joke, if not for the fact that it's the absolute truth. sally didn't open up a bar just to be walked all over. she was dangerous with a gun (hell, she was dangerous with just about everything she wrapped her greedy hands around : annabelle sure as shit wouldn't fuck with her). " you've got a real death wish if you want to take your chances with that old broad. "
well, had she seen anyone new around? the question caused her head to swivel slightly, this way and that way, as if she was checking to see who else was listening. a few people had taken an interest in their conversation, but they seemed drunk enough that it'd slip right from them the second they stumbled out of the saloon. " maybe, " she hummed, fixing him with her best smile. " i don't give away anything for free though. you never know when you're getting hustled-- i steer away from all charity. "
❝ now i didn't say nothin' about takin' my chances with sally over here , ❞ asserts the outlaw first and foremost . ❝ you got a quick mouth on you . you see a gun in my hands ? ❞ and with that , he moves his arms onto the counter , the sides of his empty hands rested within her view . for all the bad he is , he counts himself a fool only when he wishes to show that he is . in matters of trading blows and quarreling with the locals of these various parts … well , he'd rather be seen as competent , and not flee like a dog with his tail between his legs . he knows if some woman comes out with a shotgun cradled in her arms and the rage of hell in her eyes , he won't be taking any chances with that . ❝ i told you , i ain't here lookin' for trouble . ❞
only a drink . a drink and a good rumor . but annabelle is as quick of a woman as she is clever . as far as the outlaw is concerned , this barmaid's eyes don't deceive her . there are good reasons why most people fail to meet his gaze , why they walk faster when they spot the pistol in its holster at his side , why the law keeps their eyes on him while he does nothing but work at cleaning his horse's hooves .
perhaps , then , it's why he once more grips at his glass , taking a good mouthful to gulp down . bitter alcohol stings somewhere deep in his chest . ❝ do i look like the charitable type to you ? ❞ this question slithers through his lips , rhetorical puff of air brushing past his chin . no quirk gives away his humor , arid and disagreeable . ❝ what can i do to get it outta you ? ❞
the body is not her domain as is the mind, but invisible tendrils of darkness keep his feet steady, she won’t let him get more scruffed than life has made him. all this safekeeping she does in secret, and it pains her that she hasn’t been honest with him. now is no time for confessions of what she is, but she wonders if she could harness proof that he would care for her regardless. it’s not fair now, that he’s drunk, but she can’t allow herself the elation of his presence without worrying. even as her cheeks morph the warmth of his words into redder hues, her smile shies away. if only he could truly save her, if only she could remain in the embracing feeling of his happiness as she is now and never face the evils of her kin. these are impossible things to hope for, as they are, friends, they can only thrive in the dark, hiden from the burden of their foul responsibilities.
‘ mhm, until you fall asleep, i will not leave you, ’ no one seems to rise as they enter the tent, but she’s careful to keep her voice down. a purring whisper that speaks both of caution and tenderness, releasing his arm to illuminate a candle with matches she stole earlier from him. the sentimentals that permeate his space don’t go unnoticed by the empath, one item however, holds most of the spiritual energy, a jarred flower. ‘ but i do not wish to impose, pearson does not need another mouth to feed, ’ especially not one that will refuse to eat his stew. she’s aware of her complexities and can only expect to carry them lonesome. it’s easier to tend to others, it negates the need to accept in voce that she has needs beyond sainthood.
slowly, she reaches for arthur’s neck, giving him a final smile before delving into the task of helping him shed the day and rest. fingers graze him as she works on untangling his handkerchief, dark eyes immersed, lingering on his chest for a second too long when she's done. ‘ say, arthur, ’ here she looks up at him, innocent, her left hand lifting to find the brim of his hat, tone shifting from that mantric hymn to unequivocal human timidity, ‘ are you a spiritual man ? have you ever seen something you cannot explain ? ’
a sigh of relief escapes his lips as they duck beneath the tarp stretched across his small table and bed , into the makeshift walls of his so-called 'tent' for what it's worth , it's hardly enough to shield him from view , but just enough that he can convince himself , especially in the throes of slumber ( or , perhaps , while being aided in his undressing ), that peeking eyes can be easily noticed if anyone dared . sloppy fingers tug at similar places in that fabric , brush again raven's one too many times . if he were less drunk , he would apologize . to say nothing of the palm at his chest . he breathes , careful , steadily , seemingly unable to parse it all . his gaze meets hers .
he blinks once , twice , thrive , a blank look in whiskey-widened eyes , a window that frames the picture his mind : thoughts laced together , frantic attempts to untangle the knots that inundate any line he tries to grasp . ❝ sure , sure . i've seen a lotta things i can't explain . but i , i ain't uh i ain't smart 'nough to recognize what's really goin' on anyway . ain't really … ❞ words stutter out before he has the chance to stop them , on account of the drink coating his throat , his tongue , with an easy venom meant to poison . he sure could be called poisoning himself now , for what it's worth the very fact he's rambled on about himself about idiocies and stupidities is not a thing most anyone would hear .
a long moment stretches . he reaches up now , lifting his hat from his head . with less easy access to the table beside his bed , for want of raven's space , he instead sets his hat atop her lengthy black hair . then , as if he's suddenly remembered he has a bed , the man drops himself quick on the mattress , forearms rested over thighs . gaze settles on the particularly severe curve of her shoulder . ❝ creatures in the woods i can't understand . neither c'n the rest'a this lot . ❞ he chuckles to himself , lets out an airy groan against the spin of the world still insistent upon the bottoms of his feet . ❝ eh … n' scares me plen'y , miss omen . all that stuff . i don't gotta know about it . that ain't my domain out there . ❞
always reading about and thinking about arthur as usual . anyways , in this book it says someone calculated that arthur’s kill tally , even in an honorable run , must have been somewhere around 900 people .
sb : how many people have you killed ?
arthur : nine .
sb : oh thank god . that’s not as bad as i thought haha , i thought it was gon’ be 90 or somethin big .
arthur : hundred .
sb : NINE HUNDRED ????
