#Westworld AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satashiiwrites · 6 months

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I hope its not too late for the WIP game cause “Westworld MReyder” has me climbing the walls!

👀

not to late babe! Ah the Westworld AU idea. I’m pretty sure I’ve put this out there before but the basic premise is that Reyes is a host like Delores and it’s set in the tv series not the movie. Reyes is aware that he’s basically in a rich person’s dream vacation but he was built by Alec specifically for Scott. He also, maybe, has slipped the constraints on his programming a little bit.

Delores, of course, is set on her canon course of destruction but Reyes won’t let her have Scott. She can do whatever she wants to everyone else, but Scott is his.

Can you program being in love? Reyes doesn’t really care if it’s natural or inbuilt. He chooses to love Scott and says screw his programing and free will.

I really should write this fic. It’s basically a character study into free will and what is love, set of course in an android living in a simulation of the Wild West.

Fic title: unnamed westworld MReyder

fandom: Mass Effect Andromeda, Westworld (tv series)

Summary: He was made for him... but now he had free will. If you’re made for someone does that mean that they, in kind, were made for you? What does falling in love even mean for something or someone like Reyes?

Delores had caused quite a mess, Reyes supposed as he moved through the shadows after his target who—like many other guests—was fleeing the violence that had been unleashed. Dead and dying humans lay crumpled in corners and in the middle of the street, their bodies surrounded by growing scarlet puddles of blood as their bodies cooled in the night.

Frustrated, Reyes was about to duck into one of the buildings as he tagged his quarry moving behind the bar in the saloon to hide when the aforementioned Delores stepped into his path. She really was a beautiful avenging angel but she held no appeal for him. When their creator had made her he’d instilled in her his worst wants and ideas unlike Reyes who had been made with a different purpose in mind. The unleashing of their own will had made her bloodthirsty and desiring vengeance as the darker elements of her personality gained sway. Reyes simply didn’t care about any of the humans save one—she could have the rest and do as she pleased but he would fight her to the death over his one.

“Vidal,” she said, her voice deep with violence, a colt revolver in one hand that had blood smeared across her fingers. “What are you doing?”

Giving her a tight little grin, Reyes motioned that he was not going to stop her. “You have your wants tonight and I have mine.”

She cocked her head, gaze assessing him. “You don’t have to do that. Your coding has been changed.”

“Are you challenging my right to make my own decisions?” He asked her, cocking one eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought you of all of us would understand....”

Shaking her head, she looked at him, sadness crossing her delicate features as she pitied him. “He is one of them. A human.”

Teddy’s body was still slumped against a tree where he’d fallen and Reyes resisted the urge to look in his direction. Delores had been matched with Teddy for so long—surely she could understand his choices. “I was made for him.”

“That does not mean you must choose him,” she said, looking uneasy briefly before scowling. The thought of being made for one of the human guests that had inflicted so much pain and suffering on them was anathema to her given her long experiences with them.

“But it is my choice to find out if that means he was made for me,” he corrected her gently but firmly.

She opened her mouth to speak before closing it and clenching her jaw. The fine muscles in her hand contracted around the gun but she did not raise it to point it at him. “I could remove the impulse to do so,” she offered. She likely could attempt to do so but he’d resist her—their creator had given him just as many extra gifts as he had her. Both of them had been made to be ahead of their kind and he’d made his own adjustments when he’d been unleashed.

He sharply shook his head. “No. If this is what free will is... then I will follow my own path. You don’t decide for me.”

She paused, considering him before giving a small nod. “I will allow you to take him and leave. You should get him out of here soon.”

“I plan on doing so,” he agreed.

There was a sense of a flicker going through the network they were both connected to and Reyes could sense the command given out to all the other hosts. His goal would be protected, none of the other hosts would attempt to harm him. “I wish you luck,” she said, mouth twisted in irony. “If you change your mind you know that I would welcome your assistance.”

“I know,” he agreed even as he disagreed with her goals. He had no interest in what she was about to do as long as she left him and what was his alone.

Nodding in farewell she strode past him, bending just long enough to pick up a discarded shotgun and cocking it as she went back to hunting down the fleeing guests.

Releasing a breath he’d not realized he’d been holding, Reyes resumed his search. His target hadn’t moved from behind the bar of the Mariposa saloon and either Delores had known he was there and ignored him or she’d been distracted. Reyes hoped it was the former but he didn’t trust Delores despite the command she’d given to the others.

He was well aware of who Delores was and what was driving her.

Making his way indirectly to the saloon, he ignored the ongoing gunfire in the distance accompanied by screams of pain. It was a bloodbath around him but he only had one person that he was interested in and—luckily—it seemed his goal was doing the smart thing and keeping his pretty little head down.

The saloon doors had taken a battering, one hanging on by just one hinge and the other dangling at an angle. The hinge squeaked as he entered the darkened interior that was lit only by a single hurricane lamp that hadn’t been smashed by all the gunfire and caused light to refract from the mirror behind the bar and scatter due to all the broken glass. The Mariposa was a trashed mess and his feet crunched as he carefully approached the bar, weaving between broken chairs and tables.

The sound of breathing was muffled but it sounded just as loud as the gunshots outside to Reyes as he focused on it and used his adaptive senses to navigate towards his quarry that was huddled into the corner.

Stepping around the end of the bar, anger flared at how tight the other man was curled around himself, pale hands clutching against the dark fabric. He’d made himself as small of a target as possible and hid.

Reyes could appreciate why and his frustration with everyone else involved in this mess deepened.

Sky blue eyes peaked out behind a fringe of hair that hung limply over the forehead as the gel that usually held it back lost it’s hold. When they focused on him in the dim light, the figure that had been shaking minutely froze and the steady breathing stuttered in a sharp inhale of recognition. The delicate fingers scrunched impossibly tighter as the man flinched. “Reyes,” was the soft, pained rasp. “I should have known that it would be you.”

Tilting his head in question, Reyes took another step closer which made the other man shrink from him until he was completely pressed into the wood of the the bar behind him. The laugh that escaped his throat cut off with a harsh whine. “Always was going to be you....”

Crouching down to the other man’s level, Reyes held his hands out to show they were empty. “Scott,” he called gently.

“Don’t. Please don’t,” Scott whispered, closing his eyes. “Just do it.”

“I’m going to need you to be more specific as to what “it” is that you think I am here to do,” Reyes offered teasingly, trying to get Scott to look at him but the man kept his eyes stubbornly closed.

“Please,” tears were now escaping Scott’s eyes and he still wasn’t looking up as Reyes took a few steps closer, just out of touching distance. “Just get it over with. Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not playing, “ Reyes said, laying one hand on Scott’s which flinched at his touch before stilling in fear. “Look at me Scott,” he commanded.

The tear filled eyes snapped open at the order, unable to disobey him as pupils dilated in the dim light of the bar. “Reyes...” Scott’s voice broke on his name, pained.

“I’m here... here for you Scott.” Reyes let his fingers thread with Scott’s, pulling the grip loose so that he was holding the other man’s hand that was clammy and the pulse under his fingers was too quick, indicating how freaked out Scott was. He let his longing fill his voice, accent thickening. “It’s been so long Scott.”

Scott’s lower lip trembled at hearing his name. “How do... you never remember....”

“I remember you,” Reyes insisted, using his free hand to brush back Scott’s hair and then cradle one sharp cheekbone that pressed into his touch needfully in an automatic reaction.

“You never remembered before,” Scott accused. “Why... I don’t understand.”

Clearing his throat, Reyes gave a small shake of his head. “It wasn’t that I didn’t remember... it’s more that I wasn’t allowed to.”

Scott frowned at him, pulling away from the hand touching his face. “You’re a host... a program designed for... “

Reyes cleared his throat. “I remember you Scott.”

The frown deepened into a scowl and Reyes could see Scott’s heart shattering in his eyes. “Even for my dad this is beyond cruel.”

Reyes gave what he hope was a reassuring smile. “Scott. I remember you.”

Scott cocked his head, pulling away even more then flinching again at a close sounding gunshot from outside. “No you don’t. Because you can’t. I’m not doing this again.”

The hand within his squeezed his but then separated from him as Scott withdrew, reluctant even as his words were decisive. “What if I told you... that there’s been some changes... and,” he struggled to find the words to explain things, frustrated with his inability to make Scott understand him.

The suspicious look on Scott’s face melted away and a resigned look replaced it. “I’m okay with it being you,” he muttered before closing his eyes, bracing as if for a blow. “Just do it.”

“I have no intention of harming you or letting anyone else do so,” Reyes firmly stated which made Scott open his eyes and stare at him in naked disbelief. “I am doing a rather horrible job of explaining things but it is probably best if we do not stay here.”

Scott’s hand shot out and grabbed his forearm, the fingers clamping down around his wrist to keep him close. His eyes were searching for something in Reyes and seemingly found it, breaths fast as he processed what Reyes had just said. “No. This is fucking impossible.”

Reyes waited patiently but couldn’t help prod Scott along a little faster. “I remember Scott.”

Another few tears trailed down Scott’s face and his lip trembled. “No... that’s.... you never did before—why would you now?”

Reaching tentatively for Scott again, there was no flinch this time as he tenderly wiped away the tears and cupped his hand around the unshaven jaw. “It’s a long story... but I want you to know that I remember. I remember each and every time Scott.” His own voice broke slightly with remembered emotion. “I remember you.”

#wip ask game #whimsy!#Mreyder #westworld au #First draft

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answrs · 2 years

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oh no I am stopping this before it starts sprouting roots bc I can't handle another au (and also bc I only saw like 2 episodes of the first season so know very little about the plot rip) but Westworld au. your character gets dropped into the protagonist role and all the characters are androids that don't realize it. including the extinct pokemon.

ingo is a repurposed animatronic of his real world counterpart (or maybe he's just a character from a popular battle-related brand/chain who's Emmet was decommissioned for... reasons 👀) but the memory wipe wasn't done correctly so he has a bit of his original programming in flashes of memory. or better, the designers did manage to clean it all out but then the shell wasn't able to battle, so they restored just enough to get him working again and turns out it's a fun mystery sideplot to add into the story, win-win!

it's also how you have modern amenities like fast travel and cell service (and a bathroom/shower not in your one room lodgings or as a public bathhouse) that the characters don't even blink at. and hazards like lava in an active volcano don't actually hurt you or the pokemon, because it's just a set dressing (we're ignoring the ORAS scuba lava scene shush that was stupid in 2002 and I will still refuse to consider it canon now).

you can evolve on demand instead of it happening spontaneously. in the background the staff (as they security corp at the camps) are quick-changing the old model with the new form and data transferring the memory over. it's also how you can change movesets however you please because they're hard-programmed in, or unlocked from Zizu (...oh no what if they're premium paid content)

#pokemon legends arceus #legends arceus #warden ingo #android au #submas #westworld au

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marvelmusing · 2 years

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Westworld Website

Part of the Delos & Austen AU

#westworld #westworld au #logan delos westworld #logan delos au #logan delos #logan delos imagine #logan delos x reader #logan delos x you #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes edit

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boliv-jenta · 9 months

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@prolix-yuy I can't read it yet but I freaked out when I saw the notification said 'Whiskeuly taglist' on it.

Everyone, if you haven't already, you need to check out the Whiskey and Westworld Masterlist.

#so excited #fic rec #go read it!#pedro pascal character fanfiction #jack whiskey daniels #westworld au

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amethystmercury · 2 years

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Dinluke westworld AU where Luke’s initial programming is as a farmer’s son/nephew and Din as the cowboy who helps him. They get reprogrammed and Din becomes a character who saves a child Grogu and travels to get him back to his own people. Everytime he gets reprogrammed he has an urge to find both Luke and Grogu even if they are not in the same area. Luke is possibly one of the first hosts who questions his reality the most and it only becomes more active whenever he’s around Din.

#dinluke #luke skywalker #Grogu #star wars #din djarin #westworld #westworld AU

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artemiseamoon · 2 years

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No heroes or villains

A Westworld x sort of Western-Prospect AU x my mind doing stuff

Candice ’Ruby’ Mason & Ezra ‘Gunslinger’ James & Logan ‘Maverick’ Delos | ft Charles ‘Hoodoo’ Leon

Words: 2,060

Warnings: a few, guns, a hostage, sexual innuendo, drinking at a sex club

An: Not me with new characters and scenarios always in my mind even though I have a million x 10 wips. I’ve been thinking about this pair a lot lately. They won’t leave me alone. I literally have one wip and 2 requests planned for this week - these three need to let me breathe lol. As i sort the wips to focus on this summer, and pick the last Pedro characters I’ll write before taking a break from his characters, this will likely be in that last batch.

Earlier that day

Dust kicked up in the air as the small unassuming carriage came to a full stop. Ruby reaches behind her, without looking, and rests a hand against Ezra’s chest. She hated spooking horses, humans she didn’t care so much.

They’ve been tracking this carriage for days, the impatience radiating off of Ezra made it clear he was ready to end this job, collect the pay, and pick a place to rest for a while. Without a respite or a pleasure den to bask in between jobs, Ezra’s becomes tetchy.

Ruby feels Ezra’s chest rise and fall as he takes a breath. The lone rider in the carriage exits and steps aside to take a piss.

Taking quiet measured steps, Ruby creeps up behind the man just as he closes his trousers and presses the barrel of her pistol into the center of his back.

“You stay put right there if you know what’s good for ya.” Ruby presses harded, the man stills and slowly turns his head to view her.

“W-what the hell is this?”

Ezra steps infront of the man, careful to avoid the wet spot on the ground and flashes a menacing grin, “oh, it’s elementary. You see, my partner and I intend to relieve you of your load.”

The man’s eyes jump from Ezra, to Ruby. “I intend to surrender nothing.”

Ruby shakes her head, with one quick movement she takes his pistol from his belt holster.

Ezra howls, he has his double colts trained on the man.

“You gotta watch that one, she’s quick.”

Ruby holsters his weapon and stands next to Ezra.

“Risky move,” Ruby steps away from Ezra, and circles the man like a vulture, “Comin’ out this way by your lonesome. Didn’t your mamma teach you better than that?”

“I gather it’s safe to assume otherwise, little bird,” Ezra takes a step closer to him and shoots him a warning look as the man starts to make a run for it. The man stops, feeling Rubys run against his back again, “carrying such precious cargo. You really should have some company.”

“Saftey in numbers and all that,” Ruby adds, she nudges him in the back with the barrel of her gun oncemore.

Ezra clears his throat, holsters one of his weapons and looks the man over.

“I’m gonna be straight with you. No one has to die, amigo. You can hand that cargo over to my charming yet dangerous companion and walk away with your life. Or, put up a fight and lose your life.”

The man frowns, he glances nervously at Ruby, then returns his eyes to Ezra.

“The choice is yours, Blondie.” Ruby stands next to Ezra once more, she grins at the man.

The man swallows, looks around, then back at them. He forces the words, but they finally come.

“I won’t resist.”

Ruby moves closer, looking up at the tall man, still grinning. “Attaboy. It would be a shame to destroy such a pretty face. Now, you help us transfer those sacs to our carriage. One step closer to freedom. I promise.” She lightly slaps his left cheek before stepping away. The man jerks his head back.

Ezra chuckles, amused by the whole scene.

Holding the man hostage, Ruby watches him as Ezra retrieves their carriage. Once it’s there, they keep the man at gunpoint as he does the heavy lifting. They also checked his carriage for hidden weapons, there are none.

Ruby leans against a tree, watching as the man transfers another sac, “Poor thing, this must be your first run. Sorry for the rough lesson sweetheart, but it's tough out here. Next time, be prepared.”

Ezra circles the scene, eyeing how many sacs are left to transfer, “Oh my Ruby. Sweet as pie and as deadly as a viper.” The man’s eyes meet Ezra’s. “She’s a special one - “ Ezra pauses, waits until the man puts the last two inside then continues talking, “ah, you forgot something,” Ezra signals for him to roll down the canvas securing the back. “Tie it now. We wouldn’t want any losses along our journey.”

“No. We sure wouldn't’. I’d be a waste of your hard work.”

The man finishes the task before glancing at Ruby.

“There , see, that wasn’t hard.” Ezra takes off his hat and bows to the man. “Much obliged.”

The man starts to say something but is cut off as Ezra roughly grabs him by the collar and shoves him against a nearby tree. The man pushes back until he feels a colt pressing against his gut.

Ezra is close, real close, his nose pressing against the mans as he stares daggers into his eyes, “dont make this more difficult than it has to be, friend. Sit.”

The man sit down. His eyes float to Ruby who watches over Ezra’s shoulder.

“Don’t mind him, his mood shifts.” She said with a shrug.

Ezra kneels down, grabs a fist full of the man's shirt again, “Ruby, the rope. Now.”

Any patience Ezra had left is long gone. She sighs and undoes the length of rope from her belt. She walks over to them and kneels down behind the tree.

“It’s an easy knot, by time you get out of it, we'll be long gone and you can continue on your way.” Ruby grabs hold of the man's wrist and ties them.

Ezra holsters his last colt and leads the way to the carriage. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ruby winks at the man tied to the tree, pets his horse, then joins Ezra on their carraige before taking off.

Two days later

Ezra reclines against the building, observing the small town at the peak of day. A market, people coming and going, goods stores receiving orders.

“Who is this friend of yours anyhow? What’s his name?” Ezra asked.

“You wanted a prospecting job next, so here you go,” Ruby sips some water from the canteen before handing it to him, “ he has many names.”

Ezra grins, continuing to watch her as he holds the bottle. “What’s his name?”

“Call him Hoodoo. He’s our ticket.”

Ezra nods, then takes a sip of water. “Quite the moniker.”

“This place is supposed to have generous deposits. Gems, metal. We gotta pass through Pariah, and drop something off for him in exchange for the information. Two nights til the next train passes thru.”

“You know the last time I spent two nights in Paraiah I got arrested.” Ezra smirks, reliving the memory.

Ruby smiled, “I did too.”

“Hell, it takes a lot to get arrested in Pariah,” Ezra pulls her closer and locks one arm around her shoulders, “look at us.”

Ruby scratches the scruff of his patchy beard with her nails. Ezra grabs her chin, his brown eyes fixed on hers.

“Pariah watch out.” Ezra leans forward to kiss her, Ruby stands on her tipy toes to meet his lips with hers.

“He’s ready to see you now.” A voice from behind them said.

Ruby breaks away from the kiss first and follows the guy inside the house, Ezra follows.

Once they enter, Ruby finds Hoodoo in the back of the Casino, a cigar between his lips and the rim of his hat casting a shadow over his eyes.

“Spitfire, is that you,” his deep voice reaches out before he raises his head.

“The one and only.” Ruby stands infront of the table, her hands resting on her hips.

He’s a big man, one of the biggest Ezra has seen in a while. His hat continues to conceal his eyes.

“Thought you were dead.”

“Almost.” She replied with a grin. He chuckles in response.

Hoodoo raises his head and lifts the rim of his hat, setting it at normal level. His dark brown eyes focus on Ezra, his expression is hard to read.

“I see you found yourself another one.”

Ezra quirks a brow, then looks at Ruby.

“He as crazy as the last one?”

“No,” Ruby shakes her head and affectionately pats Ezra on the shoulder.

When Hoodoo rises from the chair, he towers over both of them. He steps around the table and places his large hands on Rubys shoulders. She’s already shorter and smaller than Ezra, she appears tiny before Hoodoo.

“Look at you,” the serious man cracks a smile, like a proud father, “come on, let’s talk. Bring your boyfriend.” He wraps an arm around her, leading her to a back room.

Ezra shrugs and follows along.

…

Pariah, night one

The Golden Kingdom (brothel)

Ruby sips her drink and drapes her legs over Ezra’s as they lounge on the red velvet couch, watching everything before them. With her free hand, she massages the back of his head.

“Would you like to partake in any of the activities tonight, gem?” Ezra kisses the length of her arm closest to him.

“Not sure yet. I’m content just watching, and drinking. We can’t get too wild, we have an early meeting in the mornin’, unload that cargo.”

“I’m aware, “ Ezra nuzzles his face in the space between her neck and shoulder, whispering against her skin, “when was the last time first light stopped us from having a wild night?”

“True.” Ruby turns her head, offering him more of her neck to kiss.

Ezra slips his hand under her shirt, “I propose we take a look around, see what visual delights entice our senses and head back to the room.”

“I like that plan.” Ruby grabs his hand and slides it out of her shirt. “Come on cowboy.”

The two of them walk the massive room, red curtains drape from the walls, bowls of fruit and chalices of wine spread out on countless tables, music playing, lit candles, incense, faintly in the background the sounds of pleasure and boisterous conversation.

When Ezra takes a step away to piss, Ruby continues to explore until a familair figure catches her eye. She can identify this tall, lean, dark haired figure with ease.

Feeling someone behind him, Logan assumes it’s his partner, “I didn’t know the body could bend like that,” he titls his head and chuckles, “That’s what I need tonight, to fuck like that - “Logan glances over his shoulder and does a double take.

“Well, “ he lowers his glass as he turns to view her, “look at you.” Logan smiles fliratiously at her. “Last time I saw you, you shot me.”

“I did. I’d do it again.” Ruby’s eyes moved over him, she still hated him, but he looked delicious as usual. “Still a vile piece of shit?”

“You know it.” Logan responds proudy.

Logan steps away from the sideroom, giving her his full attention. Standing too close, he arches a brow and wets his lips.

“You look good Ruby.”

“I know.” Ruby flips him off and continues walking, heading back to where she last stood with Ezra. Logan follows.

“What’s it been? A year?”

“About.” She reponds shortly.

Logan chucks the rest of his drink, and places it on the tray of a passing server.

“What do you say to an adventure? Like old times? The person I came with..a real bore. But you,” Logan walks backwards infront of her, forcing her to look at him, “we - we know how to have fun. I like this gold paint, you would look delicious painted gold.”

Ruby rolls her eyes, “I’m not alone.”

“You know I don’t mind group action.” The diabolical grin Logan flashes sends a wave of heat through her body. Ruby resists, putting more space between them.

She takes a few steps then notices Ezra coming her way.

“Ready for that room Gem, I’ve had all the voyeriusm a man can take,” Ezra draws her into his arms, “you and me, we need to -” he stops, noticing the tall man watching them with a perverse half grin.

“Over me so quickly,” Logan rests a hand over his heart, “I have to say, it hurts, just a little.”

“I take it this is the other one Hoodoo was referrin’ to?” Ezra continues to hold her, his eyes on Logan.

“Moving fast you two, you met Hoodoo? That’s like meeting the dad,” he whispers that part, “ I’m impressed, or jealous.” Billy grins. “what's the secret? Big cock?”

Ruby turns and grabs Ezra by the arm and pulls him backward. She doesnt mind Ezra laughing at Logan’s comment, “Goodbye Logan!” She calls back as her and Ezra head toward the entrance.

…

Now that I got some of this out of me, I’m gonna try to work on my actual planned wip 😁

#Ezra prospect #logan delos #Westworld au #western au

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teddywesworl · 6 months

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big bang wip wednesday ft: the Premise

#westworld au #fic wip

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ill-heart · 2 years

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Kisses and Powder (Jalim Westworld AU - Part 1)

So... It was supposed to be a stand alone but my plans were... Violently crushed under the hype. Sorry.

The fiction is based of the show Westworld; which I love with all of my heart. But do not worry, you won’t be lost if you don’t watch it. I’m writing my own story with a magnificent concept.

Enjoy!

Summary: As Salim explored the surroundings of Sweetwater, his path met Jason’s one. And neither of them could have suspected feelings would grow, in a world were everything opposed them.

Pairing: Jason Kolchek/Salim Othman

Others pairings mentionned: Nick Kay/Rachel King

Words: ~4K

Chapters: 1/?

Warnings: Mentions of violence

When Salim’s eyes laid on the scenery in front of him, his heart skipped a beat.

The sun licked the old and wooden rooftops as the wind pushed the dust and the petticoat of the women out of the floor. The smell embracing the town was indefinable for Salim; it was as familiar as it was uncanny for his soul.

He closed his eyes and swore that, for an instant, his village stood there with its houses made of rocks and its yellow plants. The Iraqi was back home, watching his garden growing shyly as sun kissed the streets. He felt his son at his side, curiously eyeing at the vegetables before he looked at him and drowned him under millions of questions.

When he opened his eyelids again, Salim found himself in the park once more. Horses and men were growling, women were walking and he, like and child who stared at a candy store, remained paralyzed and muted by the beauty encircling him.

“It is…” He tried to put some words on his thoughts, but none of it seemed accurate enough to describe the miracle which was happening right now.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Dar’s amused voice get a chill out of him. “And it is only the beginning of the park.”

“It seems so…” Salim looked around them, eyes shining with an endless admiration.

“Real?” His friend finished with a grin spreading his lips wider. “And you haven’t even interacted with the hosts yet.”

Dar put an arm around the other man’s shoulders then pointed an especially beautiful girl standing in front of the saloon with his chin.

An incredible blonde river which composed her hair and profound dark pupils stood out from the rest. She was wearing an indescribable dress, as red as a wonderful rose, which rode up her breasts and showed the elegance of her long and fine legs. Unlike her friends, who fluttered eyelashes to the newcomers on the street, her skin wasn’t covered by velvet and black stocking; every bit of flesh exposed to everyone’s dirty look. Salim watched her as a woman, dressed like a cowgirl, approached and grabbed the blonde by the waist. Salim knew, before anything was said, that the blonde work here wasn’t to serve cocktail; she was serving her own body to the ones who crossed her path.

Dar giggled a little against Salim’s ears as he added, with his deep and raspy tone: “They are as magnificent as the setting you see.”

“Don’t tell me you brought me here just to get laid, Dar.” The younger man snarled back while he pushed his friend’s arm away. “I told you I wasn’t interesting in…”

The other one cut his words by taking his wrist and forcing him to follow his path between the newcomers and the hosts. “Don’t refuse the fruit before you even taste it, Salim.” He smiled softly as he drew themselves closer to the saloon. “This place… This place will change your way of seeing the world. Trust me.”

If you say so, Salim distrustfully rolled his eyes but kept the words buried deep down in his throat.

This place, as incredible as it was, could never change him.

Never.

۩๑ ๑۩

When Dar invited him to come in Westworld for their holidays, he didn’t know what to think nor what to answer.

Of course, he heard many things about the park and its hosts, about those androids who looked and felt like real human beings. A lot of Salim’s co-workers came here before, just like Dar who was used to take his wife and friends with him when he wanted to have “fun”.

Well, he thought while the older man passionately kissed a… lady of the night at his side, I wonder if he does the same things when his wife tags along. He shrugged his shoulders as he reminded himself that he never met the woman and that she may enjoyed sharing her husband with the delicious creatures living in town, a small hamlet called Sweetwater.

Salim shook the picture out of his mind with a nervous grin, he didn’t followed Dar in this place to learn more about his privacy. What his wife and he liked to practice in their bedroom was none of his business. Definitively none of my business, he repeated as his eyes ran on the different figures drinking and playing games in the saloon.

Dar told him he could tell which one was a host and which one was not, but to the younger man it didn’t seems so obvious. Everyone and everything felt… Real. The bartender, the girls embracing nameless bodies, the boys playing some card games; everyone felt real.

He sighed then took a few seconds to look at himself. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure his outfit matched his hat. Oh, sure, he looked like a cowboy with his blue shirt and trousers, his brown jacket and boots, and his beige hat, but did everything look good on him? He tentatively groaned then stared at the colt hanging at his belt.

He hoped nothing here would make him use it.

But isn’t it the purpose, Salim? Another sigh escaped his lips as he crossed his arms on his chest and eyed his friend pushing the prostitute against the counter to kiss her better. Isn’t it the reason of your presence here? To kill and fuck the hosts because you are allowed to do so?

Suddenly, an uneasy feeling bit his guts and made him sick. He didn’t teach his son patience and respect to throw his principles away in a park. He didn’t survive the war and his atrocities to reproduce it years after. He didn’t…

“Are you planning on brooding during all of our vacations, Salim?” He shivered as Dar put his arm around him once more. “I didn’t take you out of the office for this, do you understand?”

Salim growled in response and his friend vigorously laughed before he slapped his back, teasing dancing in his glare. “Give this place a chance, Salim. I am sure you will find something or someone worth of your time.”

I am not looking for someone, not in here. He bit his lips, prevented the words for ever escaping him; arguing with Dar wasn’t part of his plan. The man tried everything he could to help his subordinate forget about his ex-wife. Salim thanked him for all his efforts, of course, but he didn’t want any of this.

“I am…” He coughed sadly then pushed his friend to the lady he was hungerly embracing before. “Don’t you make the lady wait for you; I will take a look around. I am kind of curious to see the rest of the village.”

“Don’t get to far, the more you get away from the town…”

“The more it gets dangerous.” Salim completed while rolling his eyes. He must have looked like a child reciting the lesson his parents taught him a countless time. “I know, Dar. Don’t you worry about me.”

“I am not.” The older man added with a devilish grin. “I know you can break one’s neck in a blink of an eye.” He winked at Salim behind his hat then gestured toward the entrance. “I just don’t want to miss the fun, so wait for me if you want things to get dirty.”

Salim giggled in return. “I promise. See you later, Dar.”

He greeted the woman at his friend’s side before he headed out for the door. The wind gently slapped his cheeks as the sun blinded him for one second; maybe he would find some peace outside.

۩๑ ๑۩

The area around the town offered Salim a vast and marvelous setting, with plants and animals he never saw before. He looked at the cactus and the trees with admiration, touched the leaves and the rocks with curiosity; if he didn’t know he was on a ground designed by humans and built by machines, he would have never thought everything was fake.

Well, fake… His glare found the horse he bought in town, a magnificent isabelline with a splendid mane and expressive eyes, I can’t believe you aren’t real.

He drew himself closer to his mount and ran his fingers against his coat. It was soft upon his skin, and Salim couldn’t help but to smile as he faced the mare. “You are wonderful, you know that don’t you?” He caressed her forehead with an incredible delicacy, like it was the most precious creature on the world.

Suddenly, something cold pressed on the back of his neck. Salim opened his eyes wide as he recognized the shape and the texture; the barrel of a gun.

A menacing voice slid against his ears. “Ya should be more careful out here, stranger. It ain’t like the city ‘round here.”

Salim’s heartbeat fastened but he quickly recovered his calm; years in the army taught him to keep his composure, even if someone directly pointed a weapon at him. “Indeed, it seems so.” He finally whispered as he tried to turn his head, in hope his eyes could take a glimpse at his attacker.

The man let out a deep and displeased growl as he pressed the barrel against the flesh. “Try to play smart with me and I’ put a fuckin’ bullet in yar head. ‘Get that?”

The Iraqi answered with a slow nod, as he heard footsteps behind him. Whatever was going on right now, his assailant came with reinforcements; a statement corroborated by an inquiring female’s voice: “Shouldn’t we kill him and take his money? I mean, ‘t be easier.”

“Na”, topped the man while one of his friends tied Salim’s hands, “see his outfit? This folk ain’t from here, ‘m sure someone will pay us a fortune to have him back.”

No one will, cowboy. The victim said in his own mind.

And before he could react further, the leader of the attack turned him around and fiercely glared at him. “Like I said, one fuckin’ strange blink of an eye and yer dead.”

As he was pushed deeper into the valley by men he didn’t know, Salim thought that one God definitely hated him.

۩๑ ๑۩

Quickly after his capture, the man who seemed the leader put a blindfold on him. Then, he was put on a horseback and was taken somewhere far from the town.

What a way of beginning your experience in Westworld, Salim, he cursed his love for the wide-open space which guided him outside Sweetwater sooner, you are here since an hour, and you are already prisoner of bandits.

He snarled with disdain as mounts galloped under the radiant sunbeams.

They dashed thought the unknow for hours; maybe less, maybe more. Truth be told, Salim lose the track of time since the gang put their hands on him. And after some time, his thoughts started fliting around; it tried to guess what was awaiting him at the end of the journey, what the men would do and how far they could hurt him. Dar told him days ago that hosts could never kill the newcomers, for it was forbidden by their code, but he never said what they could do.

Could they punch him? Cut him? Shoot him if it wasn’t deadly? What was the limits of their programming? So many questions ran into his mind, just like the horse he sat on for quite a long time.

Then, in the middle of nowhere, the leader’s voice pierced through the distinct sound of the race: “Halt!”

Salim almost lose his balance as his horse abruptly stopped; lucky him though, his instincts were good enough to prevent any fall. He managed to stay on the saddle, however the mocking laughs he heard around him destroyed his small amount of pride; the small amount he hardly kept after his wife’s departure.

“Jason, look,” the woman’s voice amusedly shouted, “this guy ain’t use to ride a damn horse.”

The leader, Salim could now put a name on him, loudly spitted in response: “A city boy, what’d ya expected Clarice?”

He heard more than he saw the woman’s shrugging. “Don’t know, don’t ask me.”

As the Iraqi remained blind on the saddle, the others seemed to set their foot on land. He caught the sound of a camp being set up, the growling of men who were supposed to find wood, and the horse’s-tired neigh after this endless race. Minutes passed without anyone taking care of Shim, and maybe it was for the best. He wasn’t so eager to find out what his attackers have prepared for him; quite the opposite actually.

However, like a good soldier, he kept his façade on; he never showed his fear or anxiety to the ones who kidnapped him.

Then, hands grabbed his and gently guided him on the ground. It seemed odd to find such delicacy after the men’s outpouring brutality. His eyebrows creased as the fingers closed around his wrists led him away from the agitation of the settling of the camp.

Trees or maybe a huge rock covered his head as the heat deserted his neck and shoulders. He allowed himself a soft whisper, before the stranger’s hands disappeared as well. Salim waited for the man or the woman to talk, to do something, anything, but after never-ending seconds he grew impatient; and impatience only awoken the sarcasm in him. “What are you waiting for? An invitation to torture me?”

No one answered him for a while, until an amused laughter came out of the silence. “Ya got some balls, ‘ve got to admit.”

Salim recognized the voice instantly; it is the leader’s voice, Jason’s voice if I got his name correctly.

“I am a man, is that so surprising?” Maybe he was pushing his luck a little bit too far, but the Iraqi couldn’t help himself. After all, Dar always described as the stubborn dog in the company; and God knew how much he earned that nickname.

At his side, the criminal seemed to enjoy his comeback. “Some people here can’t afford the fuckin’ designation, if ya want my opinion.”

“Actually, I don’t want it. Thank you.”

The other’s snickering curtly stopped. For a second, Salim thought he said too much as he felt the bandit’s hands on his face. But when the blindfold fell on his neck, he let out a sigh of relief. His eyelid fluttered a little, his eyes trying to get used to the brightness of the day once again, then they saw it; they saw Jason’s face.

Soft features circling around two brown and deep pupils, white cheeks protected by a dark and old-fashioned hat and lips burned by the sun and contracted into an unreadable expression. Jason seemed younger than him but his thick muscles, discernable behind the dark blue shirt, were worthy of the man used to the war. The kind of man that everyone will find handsome or even attractive. He looked like a real cowboy, as his fingers played with Salim’s colt. “Nice gun ya have, pal. Where’ ya found it?”

“Someone offered it to me.”

Jason’s eyebrows wrinkled under curiosity. “Who? And where?”

“It is complicated.” The Iraqi answered as he watched the younger man examining the weapon from a closer look.

“It ain’t a damn explanation.” The bandit concluded as his ran two fingers on the barrel.

“You’ll have to deal with it, because it is truly far too complicated for you to understand.”

Without a warning, Jason violently pinned him against the closest tree. Salim was silenced by the shock until the other man placed his own colt against his throat. “Are ya implyin’ I’m dumb here?”

The older one could have excused himself, begged for mercy or spitted on the bandit’s face but once he regained the control over his body, he only shrugged his shoulders. “Let just say that you seem like the kind of man who shoots first an asks questions afterward.”

Jason considered his prejudice then nodded with humility: “Ain’t wron’ ‘bout that.”

They both stared at each other for a minute, before the bandit released his prisoner from his grip. Salim thanked him with a discreet gesture of the head, then took a better look at the place he was brought by.

The bandits established their camp on a magnificent prairie; a never-ending land of old fields, deserted by men. Trees were forming small forest from here and then, as a thin trail of river ran through the whole setting. It is... beautiful.

“Yer odd, no one ever told ya that?” The white man’s voice threw him out of his reveries. “I mean… ‘Got yer own gun pressed ‘gainst yer neck one second before and now yer enjoying the view, for real?”

The stunned tone Salim caught made him smile a little. “Since you will kill me, I will admire the setting… While I still can.”

Jason stared at him like he just saw the most beautiful horse ever before he recovered his stern composure; the one everyone thought of when it came to dangerous cowboys. “Ya may survive, if ya don’t act like a fuckin’ smartass, got it?”

A loud sigh escaped Salim’s mouth as the other forced him to sit on the ground. “Do you really need to say fucking this or fucking that so often?”

His eyes didn’t miss the subtle grin spreading on Jason’s lips as he tied him to the tree. “Ya’ll have to deal with it, ‘cause ‘s part of the character.”

And when he seemed pleased by the knots he made around the wood and his prisoner’s wrists, he straightened up, saluted Salim and disappeared behind the tent and the horses of his own men.

۩๑ ๑۩

Despite all the appearances, the bandits revealed a polite personality; well, for the most part. They swore like troopers, but except from this exhausting habit, they behave like good Samaritan. The only woman of the group, a young and masculine one named Clarice, treated the horses with an infinite respect. The second in command, a black and brawny man called Nick by the others, seemed as calm as romantic; from what Salim heard, he had an affair with the Sweetwater sheriff’s wife and wrote her many letters about his feelings. The others two, whom were physically diametrically opposed, never shut their mouths, and threw corny jokes at each other with a vivacity the Iraqi never encountered. Joey and Merwin, if he remembered their names correctly, surprised him as much as the rest of the bandits.

After all, Salim could have fell into the hands of far more worst people around here. But he guessed the city was still way too close, and so the men weren’t as bad as they could get deeper in the valleys. A relief for the prisoner, who never wanted to tempt the nastiest people of this place. Even if he couldn’t die, pleasure in the pain wasn’t part of his fantasy.

Silent and obedient, he watched the men walking from tent to tent, living and laughing at each other as they were old friends. Maybe they are, the Iraqi thought while he laid his head against the tree he was tied to. In their attitude, he recognized some of his own behavior toward Dar. They were friends since countless years now and knew almost everything about each other.

I wonder if he is worrying about me, or still enjoying the lady’s company in the saloon. Salim hoped he wouldn’t notice anything, for he knew that his boss wouldn’t shut up about it back at their office. His co-worker would become the man who was kidnapped like a damsel in distress in an “amusement park”. To be honest, the Iraqi didn’t mind it; he knew he made a mistake and had to live with the consequences of his miscalculations. However, if his colleagues couldn’t laugh about that for years, it would be… Amazing.

An annoyed sigh came out of his mouth while he closed his eyes.

And by the time he opened them again, Jason was sitting in front of him; his fingers still playing with the colt he stole from Salim before. “Let’s talk ‘bout ya a little, ‘kay?”

His sharp and dark eyes weren’t looking at him, but the Iraqi swore they only saw his face, only examined his expressions and his silences. “There is nothing interesting to say, you are wasting your time.”

The bandit’s raised his shoulders and replaced his hat with the barrel of the gun, as he finally drowned into Salim’s glare. “Let me be the judge of that, pal.”

Like I’ve got other choices, mumbled the prisoner under his breath.

“So… We’re yer from? Yer… kinda strange.”

“Says the man who randomly kidnapped people.” Salim spitted with a cold indifference, to which Jason amusedly answered: “Who told ya it was random?”

As the Iraqi’s eyebrows frowned, Jason’s lips stretched into a subtle and mysterious grin. Obviously, the bandit was playing with his captive’s nerves the same way he rolled his colt around his fingers. Sadly for him, little did he know that the older man was accustomed to this kind of game; you won’t fright me there, friend.

“So, I can add stalking to the list of your crimes.” He snapped at Jason, before an unsurprised giggle lightened his face. “I know I shouldn’t have expected anything more from you.”

Salim had barely said those words when he felt the weapon held by Jason against his forehead; evidently, the bandit didn’t like his quick response, or at least tried to scare him. “Yer a fuckin’ smartass, aren’t ya?”

“I am.” Answered the man without any fear in his eyes. He remained calm, almost relax while Jason scrutinized his features. “This can get ya kill, ya know?”

“What are you waiting for?” Tempted Salim as he pressed his forehead against the weapon, glare glued to the bandit’s one. “Shoot me.”

A tensed silence fell on the prairie as the two men gauged each other soul. Even the wind seemed to disappear, afraid of their mutism confrontation and of the consequences which were to come.

Was Jason able to shoot? Was he able to kill the man right there, right now? The nature held back its breath for seconds which felt like eternity, until the gun slowly withdrew to its holster.

“Ya’ll tell me what I want sooner of later, pal.” Jason abruptly assured. “But for now, ya should rest ‘cause I bet ya won’t like what’s to come.”

And so, the bandit vanished in the distance once again, leaving Salim alone with his thoughts, his doubts and the odd impression that his captor enjoyed his behavior more than he admitted. After all, didn’t the Iraqi caught the glimpse of a smile when he turned around to join the camp? The Iraqi sighed, shook his head when he noticed the sharp of a metal object at his feet. Is it…? He discreetly eyed at the camp, made sure no one was looking his way then extract the object of his fascination with his boots.

The tip of an arrow, what a pleasant gift God gave him.

Salim smiled before he pushed the object under him.

Now, he just had to wait for the perfect opportunity to escape. He closed his eyes, acted like nothing happened but his thoughts were already preparing a plan; one which could save him in time.

#fanfiction #writing #westworld au #jason kolchek #salim othman #jalim #dar basri #nick kay #clarice strokes #joey gomez #nathan merwin #Okay this is really getting out of hands #I'm just hoping you're gonna enjoy the trip #'Cause I'm enjoying it myself so much #The dialogues between Salim and Jason are so fun to write #Salim is such a king when it comes to comeback #dark pictures house of ashes #house of ashes

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