#dsrtrose

[wasperilspast]

you need to rest. you're not ready. from @dsrtrose !

as she made her way over, she had repeated his name. trying to catch his attention. ❛ 𝚒'𝚖 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎. ❜ he responds. it's shorter than he's ever been with anyone before, and most certainly a lie. teddy's fumbling around his own space, struggling to get together his things. hat... gun... bullets. arthur and a few of the others were heading out, and more than anything teddy wanted to be there. he had to be there. he's brought to an abrupt halt as a sharp pain shoots through his side. he's almost certain he's opened his wound again. he's stood there panting, leaning over a barrel for support. the frustration is enough to bring tears to his eyes. eliza brings herself closer and he's forced to meet her gaze. ( 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 ). it's simultaneously kind and cruel.

❛ 𝚢𝚘𝚞- ❜ he hesitates. breathing deep in attempts to calm himself down, but what ever strength he's had helping him keep up his composure for so long is gone and he's left unraveling. ❛ 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍..! 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖? 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝚒 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘-... 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚒𝚝! ❜ he curses through gritted teeth and lowers himself to the ground slowly. @dsrtrose / concern for others prompts

[0ldwest]

smoke and fire rage about,        deafening bangs sounding with the might and fury of all hell broken loose.        and for what one might mistake to be the gang’s customary way of bidding a town farewell,        THIS PARTICULAR INSTANCE IS CUTTING IT TOO CLOSE,        even by their standards.        dutch’s eyes squint against the sun as dollar bills fall from the sky,        scattered to the whim of the breeze when his fingers squeeze the handle of his gun,        free hand pressing against his bleeding side but his head isn’t in it.        it’s hosea’s words that keep him distracted,        hammering with relentless fury        [[        alright,        you go on ahead,        then,        dutch.        you go on an’ prove whatever it is that you hafta to that cornwall feller but don’tchu go blamin’ anyone else if he unleashes the eighth plague of egypt like he threatened to.        ]]        well,        shit.        you savvy old goat.

❛  here,  lean  on  me.  i’ll  support  you.      /      @dsrtrose​​     ☞       ELIZA      +      DUTCH

he hadn’t noticed her joining his side WHEN HE RAISES HIS WEAPON AND FIRES at an o’driscoll aiming their way,        flaming eyes shifting toward her features,        as wild as his own,        hand gripping her arm when he looks back at the scene,        pulls her to him.        ❝    wait        ...        arthur !        we can’t leave arthur.    ❞

[katzengesicht]

“You look like hell.” from @dsrtrose !

   ' WHY, THANK YOU. ' voice dripping with sarcasm, ocelot doesn’t even raise his head to look at eliza as she returns with firewood. he’s really miscalculated this, quite badly. too many jobs in a row, taking longer than he originally thought they would, leaving him with no time to do another hit, so now he’s here, pathetic and in withdrawal. from the moment he sat down in the first place, it caught up with him, sluggish tiredness and a tremble in his hands.

   they’re supposed to be getting a bounty. ocelot was prepared for this. he did his research, he knows the location and the target. it should be easy. only that, because he did a job with the diamond dogs the day before, as well as a few of his own ... personal projects, with little to no time to sleep, he thought a bit of cocaine would solve the whole energy problem.

   it’s not the first time. it’s also not the first time he’s gone into withdrawal. it’s fine. it’s okay. it’s just inconvenient, is all.

   ‘ i try, y’know. gotta take care of my pretty face and all. makes it easier for miller to hate looking at it. ‘ 

   he’s sweating, and she hasn’t even started the fire yet. if he manages to power through this, he should be fine the next morning, but he’s not sure if he’s comfortable camping out here if he can’t defend himself. can he trust eliza with that? making sure nobody stabs them while he’s busy having tremors?

   does he have much choice? 

   opening one eye, squinting at her from a distance, ocelot considers. ‘ ... you got any gum? ‘

@dsrtrose | rough around the edges

[pistolism]

it’s their third day in colter, holed up in the few abandoned cabins that just barely keep out gusts of icy wind. eliza’s been relegated to arthur’s side after her lips had turned purple from exposure - for now, she’s wrapped beneath three blankets & still shivering like a leaf. “i’m f - fine, arthur -“ she insists with poor insistence; before slowly beginning to give into necessary vulnerability & draping her blankets over the two of them, “- besties the f - fact that i can’t feel my fingers.” (from @dsrtrose 🤍)

"y'ain't fine," arthur huffs, breath morphing into a plume of steam as he snakes an arm around her trembling shoulders. "none of us are." eyes shift from where eliza is tucked safely against his side to the room where dutch and hosea are. the rest of the women are huddled together in the cabin next door with grimshaw. eliza should be with them ... but she isn't. instead, she's with him. has been since they fled blackwater. arthur's barely let her out of his sight for more than a few hours. after losing mac, and davey, and sweet jenny ... almost losing marston, he can't stand to lose another person - least of all her.

"we'll be gone from here soon ... once marston heals up a little, we'll find a place, somewhere warm ..." dutch's plan is to head down the mountain in a day's time, settle somewhere west of strawberry. they can't go back to blackwater. not after what happened. "... somewhere safe."

the words 'i promise' sit on the tip of his tongue for what feels like an eternity before they slide to the back of his throat. arthur morgan doesn't make a habit of making promises he can't keep.

[likemosaic]

@dsrtrose​ / cowgirl duo blues

             “ come on, darlin’. we’ve been riding all day. even i’m tired; you must be ‘bout ready to keel over. rex here needs a rest, too. ” she pats her stallion’s neck comfortingly. in response, he whinnies pitifully, as if to say: you’re a cruel mistress, miss cash. normally, kaj would agree, but eliza is a rougher lady than even she could ever dream of being: never stopping to look after herself, only concerned when it comes to the people around her being in trouble and damn the consequences. it’s why kaj has thrown her lot in with her new travelling partner; she’s tough, and runs even tougher. but kaj has enough experience with life to know that if you push too hard and ignore your body’s warning calls for too long, eventually, you’ll shut down without gettin’ a say in it. and though she wouldn’t call them friends just yet, she would hate to see eliza fall off her horse and snap her pretty neck. she’s come to admire that neck, after all.

         she pulls rex’s reigns up, nodding to a shady tree in the distance. “ that’ll be nice and cool, don’t you think? the man i’m after is on foot. he won’t get far if we rest a spell. ”

[wildark]

❛  it’s  always  been  you  and  i .  ❜ for jacky

" don't be presumptuous. " jack drawls, tipping the top hat from his face. the sun bears down, keen to keep them dripping sweat and money. planning has never been the gang's strong suit.

and this day of enjoying the breeze as he lays flat in the grass is better than london's stink. though he does miss the old playground from time to time, the promise here is every more tempting.

drawl continues heavy and fatigued, though one could debate he just woke up from a nap. " what would they say if they see @dsrtrose with me, hm? "

[wildlcck]

MISS EL (@dsrtrose):

“sadie adler, if you don’t sit down this instant —!” the rest of the threat has yet to be finished, and that much is probably for the benefit of both sadie and eliza. instead, eliza grabs the other woman by the arm and forces her to sit atop a barrel, holding her biceps to keep her in place - let it be known that this roughhousing comes from a place of the utmost affection. (that is the only reason eliza is confident she can get away with it.) “take your hat off an’ lemme get a look at your hair — looks like birds might start t’use it as a nest soon enough.”

𖤓༻❁༺𖤓༻❁༺𖤓

gaze softening and body relaxing quick as it was tense and guarded. though it, this body of hers, and she herself may have grown unused once more to such gentle care and attention, it's not unwelcome in the least. eliza and her careful, loving company never is. when was the last time this mane of hers was given any thought? shown some tenderness from her own hands or another's? it's bound to have any number of knots, tangles and mats up in it. not to mention the twigs, dirt. blood... things living and dead. and so, she's relenting, indulging miss eliza with a shake of her head and a chuckle, warm and comfortable. feeling, knowing, she's in safe hands. ❛ wh- you're bolder than yer big, lady! that's for damn sure. you're just like dynamite: short fuse, big boom. tiny, but mighty... that's you, all right- little dynamite! i might just have t' start callin' you that! reckon it's got a ring to it... how'd you say it in italian? ❜ placing her hat on eliza's head and pulling the brim down over her eyes, grinning all the while. ❛ suits you an' then some, lady! but, you'd better be careful- there's gotta be all sorts a' crawlies lurkin' in that thing, missy. ants, spiders- scorpions... ❜ fingers creeping up eliza's sides before pinching lightly at her ribs with a giggle.

[liftedrelics]

@dsrtrose response to Eliza.

The soft blue light of a freshly risen moon down on the old wooden porch of the Marshal's office in the center of town. There's a faint melody of crickets chirping in the distance, and the ever growing bustle of laughter and song coming from the saloon across the way. Raylan's arms are crossed in front of his chest, head turned to look over his shoulder at the woman slumped into the chair beside the window. He loved that chair, it's where he had his coffee every morning, where he sat in the middle of the day and watched the ever growing flow of the towns people; and where he sat at the end of every night.

There's a blanket folded on the window sill behind her that he drapes over her form, hoping to god he doesn't wake her in the process. Unfortunately for him, she's stirring as soon as soon he does so. "I was tryin' not t' wake you." He whispers, taking a seat on that window sill beside her. There's a loud crash and a heckle of laughter as two men burst through the wooden doors of the Saloon and begin singing in unison as they stumble towards the dirt road. It only distracts the Marshal for a moment before he's turning to meet those sleepy eyes of hers.

"Oh, I couldn't imagine it ever bein an issue, you fallin' asleep on my porch. In fact, I gladly welcome the change."