#feckugly

[dethical]

“     long time, no see, john.     ”          fitting to stand before the man as a ghost from his past.   someone he’s all the more willing to recognize with confrontation.   arthur morgan had long been claimed years ago, dead and buried on some peaceful hillside, nearly forgotten by the world that threatened to devour him.   and yet, he stands here in the flesh, unharmed by the consequences of poor choices and the effects of time.   he leans against the railing of the corral, staring hard at the man from beneath the brim of his hat.   the air around them is dense, making it difficult to breath.   reminiscent of the bayou and the gang’s time spent in the south.          “     recognize me now?   of course you do.     ”            @feckugly

[spitelife]

    ❛   you  really  gonna  sit  there   &   try  to  𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄  when  I  know  you  ,  marston  ?  I  don’t  give  a  fuck  what  they  did  to  you  or  your  boys  . . .  you  can’t  just  act  like  you’re  judge  ,  jury  ,  executioner  here  .  I’ll  have  to  arrest  you  at  some  point  . . .  can’t  keep  letting  you  off  when  you  𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄  .   ❜   

@feckugly  .  one-liners

[coachgunner]

@feckugly // starter call.

She eyes him up, and just barely does her mouth curl -- annoyed. 

“Well, one of us is gonna have to change -- and it ain’t gonna be me.”

[villiamscn-blog]

   ▸      @feckugly .    ———   𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 .

                              this   day   did   not   go   as   planned .  the   fucking   ERRAND - BOY   was   smart   enough   to   run   off   before   old   pearson   checked   the   stock   and   so ,   with   arthur   gone   and   the   rest   of   the   gang   unpacking ,   the   task   to   take   care   of   the   supplies   was   left   to   bill    (  as  if  he  had  no  other  business  to  take  care  of  ;  very  important  business !  )  .   at   least   brown   jack   seemed   ready   to   go   and   so   bill   mounted   his   horse   before   some   other   fool   could   hold   him   back   for   some   other   stupid   request    ---------------                ❝  whatever   ya   gonna   ask ,   the   answer   is   no .  ❞               he   made   sure   to   speak   with   the   harshest   tone   of   voice   when   he   saw   john   approaching ,   not   even   looking   at   the   man .

[outarchived]

i will stay and fight. i'm ready to die, if necessary.

“     NOW, YOU LISTEN T’ME.   Y’AIN’T DYIN’ HERE, MARSTON.     ”          gloved hands reach to grasp at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him close enough to make a point.   there isn’t much arthur can do to pinpoint the exact moment that john marston became a priority.   hell, the idea of it has kept him awake on more occasions than he’s willing to admit, but somewhere along the way the desire to make sure the other man lived a long and happy life reached the top of his list.

the cattleman revolver in his hand shoots over john’s shoulder, striking down one of the pinkertons in their failed attempt to sneak up.   the gunshot alone would likely draw attention to their location, so a whistle summons boadicea to their side.          “     i ain’t gonna let you go ahead and rob jack of a father.   kid deserves better than any of us got and you know that.   take boadicea, i’ll draw ‘em off.   see if we can meet at the place i told y’about before all of this went t’shit.   they want me more than you anyways.     ”

RED DEAD REDEMPTION MEME  —   STATUS: ACCEPTING.

[outarchived]

"y'know, after all the shit you put me through, i think it's only fair i get your stuff when you finally kick the bucket." :)

“     CAN’T SAY YOU’RE ALL THAT DESERVIN’ OF IT, MARSTON.   you’ve been a right pain in my backside these last few months alone.   but i tell you what   —  you can go ahead and have whatever’s left after i leave it all to charles.   ”          he teases with genuine laughter, like death is not a stagnant water, waiting patiently for each to drown in its endless depths.   arthur reaches for a pack of cigarettes as he settles close to the fire, daring to reach his hand over to light the end of one.          “     ‘sides, i wouldn’t be too quick to rush me off t’my grave.   i suspect you’re gonna miss me when i’m gone.     ”

[spitelife]

"look. all's i'm sayin' is this ain't no place to be particular, all right?" he's far enough gone that any reasonable bartender would have cut him off ages ago, apparently he's lucky tonight—the girl he's got cornered at the bar is considerably less so. "you got your whiskey an' y'got...whiskey. i think?" he squints at the shot glass in front of him, now mostly empty. "frank!" and the bartender is at least wise enough to ignore him at the moment, "frank, the hell is this?"

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒    of  whiskey  .  poured  straight  over  ice   &   dumped  down  her  throat  before  the  idea  of  another  reaches  her  mind  .  slurred  words  enough  to  keep  her  distracted  ,  hiding  that  badge  in  her  purse  somewhere  with  no  intention  of  reaching  for  it  again  .  her  morals  dampened  ,  grey   &   inclined  to  disagree  with  the  ability  of  the  law  .  𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐃𝐆𝐄 , 𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐘 , 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑   .

❛   my  guess                    just  goin’  off  the  way  you’re  slurrin’  is  that  you  probably  got  whiskey  ,  my  friend  .  or  maybe  that’s  just  the  smell  comin’  off  your  breath  …  but  I  think  you  may  yet  make  a  new  friend  with  the  counter  of  this  bar  .  it’s  comfy  enough  at  least  …  take  it  from  me  .   ❜