war horse @theharveywalker - Tumblr Blog

this-old-stomping-ground

christylst

danivergesart-deactivated202409

#setting

rustictxranch

Main Street, Deadwood, South Dakota, 1876

#setting

immapirateolive

#setting

moon-shiines‌:

The dishes are washed, the laundry is drying, and everyone seems to be calm. These evenings with the hounds have always been her favorite, the sweetly simple sunsets that bleed into nighttimes and the way an onlooker could almost mistake them for nothing more than a big family. Nobody hurt and needing help or rambling on about horse thieving and debauchery, just a campfire lighting up gently familiar faces as the sun begins to dip beneath the treeline. Internally she attempts to snap a photograph, to save this scene in the back of her mind to revisit on a rainy day.

Most everyone who had earlier crowded around the campfire, no doubt trying for seconds of whatever it was Mami made for dinner, had either turned in to their tents for the evening or busied themselves with tasks around camp. Harvey remained though, face illuminated by the golden glow of glittering embers. Willa pulls the shawl around her shoulders ever so slightly tighter and moves to sit net to him – he looks like he could use the company.

“Town? I’d love to!” The exclamation leaves her lips like a bullet from a gun before she has time to stop them. “Where are we going to go?”

harvey normally wouldn’t invite one of the ladies out to town, especially on business, but miss willa moon was better company than half of the gang would be. he knew she wouldn’t provoke trouble, other than the trouble that sometimes befell her but it’d not be anything he couldn’t handle. he probably would’ve made more trouble on his own anyway.

he revealed a friendly, toothless smile and asked, “where else to put our nose in people’s affairs than the saloon? we’ll need to be on our toes at all times. hope’s crossing can be rugged and especially to a pretty lady such as yourself. we’re listening for whispers of places or people we can... well, rob. think you can handle it miss willa moon?”

#c #c:willamoon #ch. 1 #drop me a message in the ask box if you'd like to maybe outline possible people or events they could run into in town! we can also wing it #i like winging things as much as i like outlines so either way

status: open location: bear-tooth ridge, main campfire time: mid january, evening

the sun, scarcely visible, boasted a mix of blue fading into rose, golden and navy colors traversing a closing sky. camp was quiet beside a lull of gang members scattered around the camp chatting in low voices.

meanwhile, alone, harvey sat gravely on a barrel close to the campfire smoking a cigarette while ruminating what to do next. joseph had made it clear that they needed to provide soon. people were hungry and they all had very shallow pockets.

he thought about his former gang in his youth that had once partly depended on him to keep their asses alive. if they were in this position, they’d want to recklessly rob a homestead of an extravagantly wealthy family. but harvey was young and stupid when he was a part of that gang while he ignorantly thought himself a public hero. serving impulsive ideas and short-lived prosperity, that only paid for weeks of bliss with years of distress. he used to steal from those with too much in order to give much to those with too little. but after so much tension and so many gunfights, years have passed and harvey is older now. he now just robs for him and his gang.

he hopes now to find leads may be of a wealthy carriage heading somewhere isolated in hopes to rob them quietly. the town hadn’t recognized him as a dangerous man yet, so maybe he’d find a decent bounty poster. the legal route was typically the preference for harvey, but doesn’t care if it turns sour. this was good for at least when they weren’t doing one of their more risky jobs.

someone joined him by the campfire. their presence brought him out of his thoughts so he nodded towards them and stated, “i’m going into town to look for business.” he paused to put out his cigarette with the bottom of his boot. “would you like to come?”

#1899starter #sorry it's so long.#ch. 1

First Journal Entry, January 1899

i bought this journal a while ago. haven’t really written in it, but i intend to pick it up now and then.

#ch. 1 #journal entry number 1 #tw: abuse #thoughts #not sure how often i'm gonna do this but it's good for a character bio #mentions of violence/abuse

#this song reminds harvey of his mom #thoughts #this song wasn't a thing in 1899 but lets pretend ok #also the album cover is so ugly haha #i guess without the greatest cowboy songs part it wouldn't be so bad

seizefeeling-deactivated2019052

STARTER: open LOCATION: nearing the outer edge of camp, beside a tree

SHAME CAME in many forms, and arthur had gotten to know most of them in some way or other, but this kind, hurt in a blazing second place, “i’m just fine,” a gash along his right calf, long and crimson like a late horizon line. now, he’s no stranger to patching up his own damage, but he’s no doctor either whether he likes the fact or not — it seemed a blink, a turn of his head at the wrong time paired with a minor misstep would send him down a rocky pile, crashing and burning. he finds a specific sort of ANGER for the other bubbling in his stomach for paying him any attention. whether it’s unfair and hostile was beyond him right then, he’s his father’s son whether he likes it or not; his pride would be both his fiercest weapon and his cruelest weakness.

he shifts on his weight with a quiet groan, a hiss, sat with one leg pulled to his chest and the wounded lying straight. he looks at what ailed him with a scrunched expression, pain evident in his aged features, a sort of creasing concern keeping the space between his brows tight and focused. even in realization of the injury’s potential gravity, the words he spoke felt like spit on his cheek, “..wouldn’t happen t’have a clean cloth on you, would you?”

theharveywalker

his thoughts were agitated as he stirred about the camp, grabbing his wide-brimmed hat and a half piece of bread. here and there nodding to people, he marched his body over towards his raven horse, still saddled from before. harvey, in one smooth swoop, got onto his horse and patted its dark mane. he swept a hair out of his face and placed the hat securely on.

well aware of the state he and his friends were in harvey needed to feel like they were on their way someplace better. he trusted they were, but he wouldn’t be settled until he had a few ideas of his own to contribute. harvey was not a man of leisure and did not like to wait around watching the sunset.

as he casually urged his horse along, now near the edge of camp, harvey noticed a heap of something on the dirt and grass. usually he’d just glance and keep on riding, but the mound seemed to grunt and turned to lean on its side. he pulled back the reins when he was close enough, and a little smirk developed on his dirt-smudged face.

“look, i know you’re getting old, but i didn’t think we’d be burying you next sunrise.” he trailed off, tossing him a cloth from the inside of his jacket. he hopped off his horse and leaned down toward him, thinking arthur wouldn’t be all too pleased with his crack.

#ch. 1 #here we are #c:arthurholst

Harvey Walker - Born 1858 - 41 years old

#ok so here it is #and here we go #i'm gonna think up a starter or respond to an open one now!!!#vanity #about #hopefully the math checks out lolol

nesyro-deactivated20240202

Red Dead Redemption 2

❝ America, 1899. The end of the wild west era has begun as lawmen hunt down the last remaining outlaw gangs. Those who will not surrender or succumb are killed. ❞