#but the rain is showin as heavy

[cornmazehater]

severe thunderstorm watch in my area and theyre callin for raiiiiiinnnnnnn fmllllllllll

#tbh it *could* be nothin #but the rain is showin as heavy #not good #not fun #and especially so when i have a storm phobia #weather #corn rambles

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter Three - Raindrops and Goodbyes

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SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Talks about past (bad) Caregivers, talks about fear of abandonment, some heavy negative feelings, comparing oneself to others, fluff but ends in some angst, Bub eats, food mentioned, Bub cries 

Word Count - 1751

Note - Sorry this took so long to get out! Things got hectic, and crappy, and I haven't been able to edit, or format, or really write lately! Luckily things are going well and I won't start school till the 16th so I'm hoping to get some stuff out in the next week or so! Part four will be posted tomorrow! I can't leave us on a sad note for too long! I just can't!!

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Y/n always hated wearing her yellow raincoat, the material feeling odd against her skin, and the crinkle of the fabric was never music to her ears. But on days like this, grey skies and heavy raindrops falling to the ground, she had no choice but to suit up. Her matching rain boots on, allowing her to splash in any puddle she felt needed to be played in. 

As she neared the Cafe she got excited, Bucky said they would go to the park today, and although it’s running she has hopes that he’ll let them go anyways, her umbrella overhead creating enough of a dry patch to maybe, at the least, run around in the mud without catching a nasty cold. 

“Mr!” She cheered as she walked in, something she did every time she saw him sat at his usual table, early as always. “I has something for you!” She smiled big as she unzipped the front pocket of her backpack “Here.” Her smile grew as Bucky’s mirrored hers, the small baggie with flowers printed on it full of chocolate chip cookies her pride and joy. 

“You made these?” 

“Yes!” Y/n says still standing, ready to leave for the park wherever Bucky is ready. Shifting her weight from one foot to another, growing impatient. “All on my own!” She cheered, proud of her baked goods. “Park now?” Bub asked, her smile still huge, both hands grasping the straps of her bag, now back on her back. 

“It’s raining, Bub.” Bucky frowned, causing Bub to mirror his expression. “But we’ll go next time, okay?” He asked, his hands immediately helping Y/n out of her raincoat, the buttons soon undone. 

“But you promised?” Y/n frowned, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I wanted to go to d’park.” Y/n held back her tears, though she wished to stomp her foot and throw a small fit, she didn’t know Bucky well enough to truly let him see her little side completely. So instead she fixed her clothing after her coat had been taken off and sat in her usual seat. 

“I know I promised, Bub.” She smiled at the nickname. “But I brought us a fun game to play today.” He was quickly making her forget about the park trip altogether, now excited to see whatever game he had brought. She hoped it wasn’t UNO, she sucked at that. “Here.” He said as he placed a game on the table, the pink and blue of Candyland making Y/n let out a small squeal. 

“I love Candyland!” She grabbed the box and bounced in her seat. “Can we play now?” She asked, her eyes turning to Bucky, him already looking at her. “Please?” She added on for good measure. 

The moment he nodded his head she opened the box, pulling all the pieces out. “Why don’t you set it up, and I get us some snacks?” Bucky asked, Y/n didn’t even look up at him, but nodded her head. Too busy pulling out the different characters. 

Y/n didn’t know how long it took Bucky to get snacks, but by the time he got back to the table she had created a whole plot amongst the characters and their kingdoms. “Here, Bub.” Bucky said as he placed a plate on the table. It was more than the usual cake pop he got her, though one still sat on the plate. This time he got vegetables and dip, some goldfish, and a cup of juice. 

“Thank you, Mr.” Y/n smiled up at him, grabbing a celery stick and dipping it. “Can I be the ice cream cone?” She asked, showing him the character she had in her hand. Bucky nodded but stayed sitting. “You need’a pick a lil guy.” She pointed to the characters situated around the board. 

“Right.” He said, his expression growing serious as he looked each one over. “I’ll pick this one, he looks tough.” Y/n broke out into a fit of giggles, the marshmallow definitely not a ‘tough guy’. 

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They got to playing the game, Y/n winning two times in a row. She wasn’t surprised, while she knew it was all down to luck, she had played the game a ton of times so clearly the Candyland gods liked her more than Bucky. “Are you cold bub?” Bucky asked her, making her realise she was shivering slightly.

She knew not bringing a sweater might be a bad idea, but she thought they were going to the park. “Um, yeah.” She nodded then shrugged her shoulders. She hoped he wouldn’t make her go back home and get one, she only had so much time in a day to spend at the cafe. “Bu’ I’m all good, can we play again?” She asked, moving their pieces back to the star. 

“Yeah we can play again, just wait a second.” Bucky stood up, she wondered where he was going, but instead of leaving to grab something or go to the bathroom he stood at the side of her booth with a black sweater in hand. “Hands up, Bub.” He said, holding the sweater out. 

“I don’ need your sweater, wha’ if yous get cold?” She asked, not sure if her being so comfortable around Bucky her little side couldn’t help but come out now was a good thing or a bad thing. While she was 100% sure Bucky was a safe guy to be around, she didn’t want to get too attached to him just in case. 

“I won’t get cold.” He answered in a softer voice. She knew he was special, that’s what everyone in the newspapers said, that he’s indestructible. But she’d hate to be the person who gave a super soldier a cold because she took his sweater. “Bub.” His voice drew her out of her worrying. He was now crouched down so they were eye level. “I won’t get cold, but you’re shivering.” He didn’t wait for her to put her arms up, instead just putting it over her head and waiting for her to put her arms through on her own.

“Tanks.” Bub murmured, looking at Bucky with a small smile. She was thankful for the sweater, now warm, but she still worried that she was too much to handle. He had given her a lot, crayons, colouring pages, so much of his time, and now his sweater. She hadn’t given him anything but cookies that she hoped tasted okay. 

“Why don’t we play again?” Bucky asked as he settled back into his seat. “I can feel it, I’m going to win this one.” He teased, she shook her head, he had no clue that the Candyland gods were on her side, and she hoped he would never know. 

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Y/n frowned as she saw Bucky pacing around outside. It had stopped raining but he said that they should wait till a sunny day to go out, because ‘everything would be slippery’. Buck’s phone had rung five hours ago, well maybe two minutes ago, but it felt like forever as she just watched him pace with an unhappy look on his face. 

She grabbed the last few goldfish and got back to her colouring, when she had won for a third time Bucky had to quit, saying his ego couldn’t handle anymore. Y/n giggled at the memory. 

The doorbell rang out and she quickly turned, though her smile turned back into a frown when she saw Bucky’s sad expression. “I’m sorry, I have to go, Bub.” He said, his sad words said in a kind tone. 

“Oh, otay.” Y/n answered, watching him pack up his things. “Will you be back tomorrow?” She asked, her crayons laid on the table instead of in her hands. 

Bucky sighed, then sat down, his hands clasped on the table. “I’m going to be gone until next wednesday.” Y/n’s back straightened up, he’d be gone for nine days. That was a lot of time to be gone, and a lot of time for him to think and change his mind about her. 

“Oh, do you, do you wan’ your sweater back?” She asked, wiggling her hands out of the sleeves before Bucky got to her. His hands covering hers, a painful smile on his face. 

“You can keep it, I’ll get it back when I come back okay?” Y/n nodded. “I’ll put my phone number in your phone, and I’ll text you if I’m going to be back later than wednesday, okay?” She nodded her head, at least he wasn’t just up and leaving, he was giving her a point of contact if needed. She handed him her phone, watching as he took forever to type out his name and number. It was a little silly to watch. “I won’t be able to text or call you while I’m away.” He admitted. “But you can text me all you want and I’ll read them when I’m back.” Bucky offered, though she knew she wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t bother him while he was away, she knew people hated that. 

She just nodded her head, watching him as he put his coat and backpack on. “Stay safe.” She whispered as he stood in front of her, ready to leave. 

“And you be good, Bub.” Bucky whispered back, and then he was gone. She watched him get into his jeep and drive away. She knew her mind was being silly when she couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t come back, but it didn’t mean it stopped that train of thought. 

She knew deep down that he had to leave, he didn’t want to, but he had to. She knew he wasn’t like the other people who became her friends and then left and never came back, she knew that, somewhere in her mind she knew that. But she still couldn’t help it as a few tears slipped down her cheeks as she cleaned up. She couldn’t help but let out a small sad noise as she put on her coat, and she couldn’t help but sob the moment she got home and into bed. 

“He had to go save people, he was needed by the world because he's a good guy, that’s why he left.” She whispered to herself all night, but she still felt as though he had left because of something she did.

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #age regression #little!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #little reader #little fic #cafe bignsmall #bignsmall

[djevilninja]

Tic-tac-toe and, three in a row and Sit back, relax and listen to a pro and As I start goin', blowin', flowin', showin' and mowin' MC's That I'm the capital H-E-A-V-Y. Decent, This is my yard, or better yet my precinct - No discontent because I'm all about pleasin'. Ha ha ha, you like my style, I'm buckwild. I'm bananas, I'm out of hand, extravaganza; both are grand, So can you dig it, man?

Soul for Real feat Heavy D - Candy Rain (Heavy D & TrakMasterz Mix)

#soul for real #heavy d #music #RnB #90s #classic #candy rain #candy rain remix

[hysterialevi]

When the Devil Cries pt. 16

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

From Arthur’s POV

CALIBAN’S SEAT, NEW HANOVER

Pain. Cold. Isolation.

These were the only things I could feel at the moment, and the only things that greeted me as I woke up in this rusty, old cabin.

I didn’t know where I was, or who had brought me here, but right now...all I cared about was gettin’ the hell out.

I had been in the hands of the enemy enough times to know when my life was in danger, and I definitely didn’t intend to get killed now. Especially not when Eddie was out there all by himself, and completely oblivious to what was happening.

I had to escape before whoever captured me found him too, and I needed to get him someplace safe.

...I just didn’t know where to start.

Struggling in my restraints, I tried wiggling around a bit, only to realize that I was hangin’ upside-down from a rickety ceiling and dangling in the middle of the room like a worm on a hook. I could hear distant voices chattering outside, and it seemed like I was bein’ held captive in some camp. That meant there was tons of people guarding me.

Shit.

I frantically glanced around the cabin, hurriedly searching for any possible way out. There wasn’t much fillin’ up the small building, and the only piece of furniture I could see was a slim table pushed up against one of the walls. It looked like there were a few tools laid out on its surface, but nothin’ sharp enough to cut me free. Besides, I was too far away from it to even attempt at grabbin’ one of them. Dammit. I’d have to find another solution.

Before I could start hatchin’ any ideas though, the flimsy door suddenly creaked open with a gentle thump as a gust of cold wind seeped through, chillin’ me to the bone.

The same man from before casually strolled inside as he lit a cigar, its soft orange glow barely lighting up his face in the dim atmosphere of the cabin as he approached me.

He gave me a toothy grin from behind the smoke, his cheek wrinkling due to the malicious smile.

“...Morning, sunshine.” He whispered.

I let out a pained groan in response, still a bit dazed from the bash to the head I received earlier.

“You again...?”

The man sighed apathetically. “I know...my face ain’t the most pleasant to wake up to. But show enough resistance, and soon,” he let out a puff of smoke, leaning closer to me, “...you’ll also be seein’ it in the mirror.”

I did my best to swerve away from my nameless captive, turning my head in the other direction.

“...Just get to the point,” I said. “What d’you want...?”

The man observed me for a second, tilting his head down at me as if I was some little kid.

“Answers, Mister Morgan. I want answers. And I hear...that you might have them.”

The rope dug even deeper into my ankles, causing me to let out a strained hiss.

“...Is that so?”

He smirked at me, his face now mere inches away from mine. “Well, I guess we’ll see...won’t we?”

The man took a few steps back and began nonchalantly pacing around the cabin, his one-eyed gaze never leaving me.

“...Does the name Theodore Bishop mean anythin’ to you?” He asked. “Or Eddie Ryan? He goes by both nowadays, more often the latter. You heard of him?”

I froze in shock.

Theodore Bishop? That was Eddie’s “old” name -- the identity we just spent the past month and a half tryin’ to run away from. If this man was askin’ him by that, that meant he was with Atticus Rose.

Shit. I couldn’t tell this bastard a single thing then, no matter how much pain he put me through. I had to keep Eddie safe.

I kept my lips shut tight and shook my head, pretending I didn’t know nothing about it.

“No.” I answered simply.

The man slowly removed the cigar from his lips, furrowing his brow in a skeptical manner.

“...You sure?”

He suddenly drilled the fiery tip of the cigar straight into my collarbone, causing me to let out an agonized yell as smoke rose from the blackened skin and a repulsive sizzling sound reached my ears.

My mind was shrieking at the moment. I couldn’t think through the excruciating pain, and the longer he kept the cigar in the place, the more I writhed and tensed up, powerless to do anything in my position.

He finally removed it after a minute, not even bothering to hide his amusement as his smile grew wider and I let out a deep, raspy breath of relief.

Goddamn this man. For his sake, I hoped I never broke free.

“Does that refresh your memory at all?” He questioned, throwing the cigar away.

I still refused to give in.

“...No.”

The man slipped his hands in his pockets. “You ain’t seen him?”

A frustrated sigh escaped me. “I don’t even know what he looks like...!”

“He’s a young man,” he described. “English. Black hair, green eyes. Works as a performer at the Râleur Theater in Saint Denis. You sure you haven’t seen him?”

I spoke through gritted teeth. “That’s what I said, ain’t it?”

His glare strengthened. “...It sure is.”

The man examined me for a while, his eye narrowing in thought as the gears turned in his head. I had to admit -- there weren’t many people out there who scared me, but this son-of-a-bitch goddamned terrified me.

There was just a certain air him that made me feel like I was playing a game. That all of this was solely for his personal amusement alone, and that he had only captured me so he could use me like some toy to be disposed of. But of course, he’d never say it. That would be too easy for this lunatic.

The man bent down slightly and took a closer look at me, his nose almost touching mine as he uttered one, final question.

“...You really have no idea who I’m talkin’ about, do you?”

He paused for a second, taking my stubborn silence as a confirmation.

“...Well then,” he finally said, backing off, “maybe you can take a good look at him for yourself...once he comes to rescue you.”

My heart began hammering in my chest at that, and the man chuckled at the sight of my horrified expression, his face plastered with a malevolent sense of entertainment.

He knew. This crazy bastard already knew where Eddie was.

This weren’t no interrogation. This was a goddamned trap.

And I was the bait.

The man sauntered away once he knew it had clicked in my head and made his way out the cabin, callin’ for his “associate” now that he was done toying with me as I was left to my own devices.

“Colm!” He barked, swinging the door open. “This fool’s all yours. Do what you want with him -- I don’t care. Just make sure you don’t kill him. In the meantime, I’ll keep watch. I’m sure Mister Bishop will be showin’ up soon, and we wouldn’t wanna disappoint him...” the man grinned at me, “would we?”

Colm wandered inside along with a few other O’Driscolls, all of them cracking their knuckles and preparing for a fight. Only -- I wasn’t gonna be able to fight back.

My captive slithered through the doorway and glanced over his shoulder, saying one, last thing to me as his coat billowed in the powerful wind.

“Consider this retribution, Mister Morgan...for what you did to my assassins. And to Thatcher Middleton.”

From Eddie’s POV

CALIBAN’S SEAT

Sneaking around the camp under the pouring rain, I hurried my way behind one of the multiple shacks around the area, trying my absolute best to stay out of sight whilst I searched for Arthur.

There were loads of men guarding this place. Some of them appeared to be part of Rose’s gang, whilst the others were with someone else named Colm O’Driscoll. I didn’t know too much about him, or what his business here was, but based on what I’d heard his people say, there was some sort of feud between him and Dutch Van der Linde: Arthur’s boss.

That would explain why they helped Rodrick capture him.

As for Rodrick himself however, I had yet to see the bastard anywhere. Neither him nor Atticus were in sight, and there weren’t any clues suggesting to their presence at the camp. Though, I had no doubts Rodrick was watching me from afar, just waiting to take his shot whilst I scurried around like a mouse.

I’d have to hurry if I wanted to save Arthur. There was no mercy when it came to Atticus and his gang, and I could only imagine what they had in mind for him.

I just prayed I had the strength to rescue him.

Slipping away just as two O’Driscolls came in my direction, I took cover behind a nearby wall and flattened myself against the wood, eavesdropping on their conversation as they passed by.

“I can’t believe they finally caught the fucker,” one of them said. “Seems like ages we’ve been after the Van der Lindes.”

The other wasn’t so enthusiastic. “I dunno, man.”

The first man shrugged. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Well, it’s just...” he lowered his voice, “what if the boy doesn’t come alone? Bishop, or whatever his name is. What if he brings help? ...What if he gets Dutch? You know that man’ll raise hell if he learns we’ve taken Arthur.”

His friend rolled his eyes. “That’s the reason Colm teamed up with Kingsley, dumbass. So if he does bring help, we’ll have enough men to fend ‘em off. But I wouldn’t worry too much. Apparently, this boy ain’t even part o’ the gang. Just some kid who plays the piano for a living. Now, shut up and go keep watch. Rodrick thinks the boy’ll be here soon.”

The second man gave in, throwing his arms up out of defeat.

“Alright, fine. But you’re joining me later.”

Walking off, the O’Driscoll disappeared in the distance whilst his friend stayed in place, taking shelter from the heavy rain inside the shack I was hiding behind. Maybe now would be my chance to get some answers.

Pulling out my knife, I crouched down and snuck through the back door of the building, slightly pushing it ajar before completely creeping in.

The O’Driscoll was currently by himself, and had his back turned to me as he rearranged some of the supplies stored in here, including crates of dynamite, rifles, gun oil, and even moonshine. I guessed this was the shack where they kept all their valuables.

Waiting for the O’Driscoll to conclude his business, I tiptoed behind him after he finished stacking some boxes and swiftly wrapped a restrictive arm around his neck, covering his mouth before aiming the knife directly at his throat.

The man struggled for a moment, only to cease his movement when he noticed the blade threatening to slice him open.

“...Where is he?” I growled.

He blurted out a response. “W-What? Who...?!”

“The Van der Linde. Where are you keeping him?”

The man only stuttered more. “I-I dunno! I didn’t bring him here! He’s probably in one of the shacks!”

I clenched my jaw in annoyance. “Which one?”

“I really don’t know! M-Maybe in the cabin to the north of the camp? That’s where Colm usually takes most of our prisoners! Th-That’s all I know! I swear! Who the fuck even are you?!”

I tightened my hold on the knife, preparing to strike.

“Just some kid who plays the piano.”

Slamming the knife’s grip into his head, I knocked the O’Driscoll out and dragged his limp body behind a pile of crates, looting his double-barreled shotgun in the process. So far, no one else had detected me, and judging by the calm state of the camp, I assumed Arthur hadn’t attempted to escape yet. I still had some time to move, albeit not much. I’d have to think of something fast.

Interrupting my thoughts, the sudden sound of clamoring brought my attention to the shack’s tiny window, leading me to sneak over in order to see what was going on.

Just outside, I spotted Colm O’Driscoll and a handful of his men dragging a beaten Arthur to the center of the camp, probably hoping to use him as bait.

The man looked like he had been punched, burnt, cut, and I had no doubts he’d met Mister Kingsley already based on the multiple scars decorating his body.

I could feel my blood boiling. No matter how much he may have believed it, Arthur didn’t deserve this type of treatment. He was simply a good Samaritan who had been pulled into this mess because of me, and I was going to do everything within my power to make sure he got out of it.

I just didn’t know how. Originally, I had planned to slip Arthur out of the cabin they locked him in, but now he was in the middle of the camp. So not only was he out in the open, everyone could also see him. How the hell was I supposed to break him out now?

I desperately searched around the shack, hoping to find something I could use. I mean, I had a shotgun now, but that wasn’t going to anything against an entire gang. I needed something that could take out multiple people at once, and also keep their attention off Arthur in the process. If I gave them enough time to react, they’d kill him within a heartbeat. So whatever I did, it was going to have to take them by surprise.

My eyes suddenly landed on the crates of dynamite sitting in the corner, giving me an idea for a plan that I never thought I would have.

It was going to be tricky, and I’d have to be as quiet as a mouse, but if it meant Arthur could go back home...then it was worth it.

I forced myself to move away from my hiding spot, eager to get to work as I prepared my trap. Both Colm and Rodrick were going to regret ever putting Arthur’s life in danger -- but if things went according to plan today, they’d never attempt it again.

From Arthur’s POV

A LITTLE LATER

Throwing another punch at me, Colm pounded his fist against the bruises already growing on my skin as his men laughed in unison and I toppled into the muddy ground, only to be hoisted back up again into Colm’s grasp.

By now, my entire body was aching in severe pain, and the more these O’Driscolls beat me to a pulp, the less I believed I gonna survive the day.

Shit. What the hell was I gonna do?

No one in the gang knew where I was. Not Hosea, not Charles, and certainly not Dutch. As far as they was concerned, Eddie and I were still runnin’ around the country, hiding away from Atticus and his men. They had no idea that I’d been snatched by some maniac, and the only person I could think of who’d come to my rescue was the last man I wanted to put in danger.

Goddammit...if Eddie showed up, I was gonna shoot that boy myself. It was too dangerous for him to come here, and I definitely didn’t want him to share my fate.

Jabbing his knuckles into my ribs, Colm wrapped an arm around my neck and pulled out his gun, almost impaling the barrel straight through my temple as he leaned in close.

“Look at the big, bad wolf now!” He taunted with a rough cackle. “Not so tough now, are you...Mister Morgan? Oh, if only good ol’ Dutch could see you...! How mad that man would be!”

I struggled in his hold, gritting my teeth. “Let me go, Colm...! We both got bigger problems to worry ‘bout. Trust me. You ain’t doin’ yourself no favors getting involved with these folk. They’re just gonna kill you once they get what they want! ...If I don’t kill you first, that is.”

He chuckled at that. “You? ...Kill me? You can hardly stand on your own, big man! You ain’t gonna be doing much ‘cept for dying. And when that happens...” Colm whispered in my ear, “...I'mma be laughing.”

Before the O’Driscoll could torment me any further, a lone set of footsteps suddenly approached us from the front, interrupting our “conversation” and causing us to look ahead.

Marchin’ straight towards the center of the camp under the cold, heavy rain, I spotted none other than Eddie himself as he trudged through the thick mud, armed with a shotgun and ready to go to war.

Christ Almighty...! What the hell was that fool doin’ here?!

The boy raised his shotgun at Colm and inched closer towards him, gulping in anxiety as droplets of rain and sweat rolled down his forehead.

“L-Let him go, O’Driscoll!” He demanded, his tone filled with fear. Or was it? Part of me suspected Eddie was pretendin’ to be the same, innocent boy he was when we first met as a way to gain the upper hand. Smart kid.

Colm took the bait and pressed the gun deeper into my temple, cocking his head in a patronizing manner. “...And if I don’t?”

Eddie stammered, holding his ground. “...Or I’ll...I’ll shoot you!”

That only made Colm’s nasty smile stretch wider and he let out a raspy laugh, his men howling along with him.

“This...” he mocked, gesturing towards Eddie as he smirked at me, “...this...is your knight in shinin’ armor...?! Some lil’ lost soul come across the pond, searching for his one, true love?”

He wiped away fake tears from his eye and shook his head in disbelief, afterwards pulling down the hammer on his gun.

“Hoo, I never knew you was such a hopeless romantic, Morgan. But I guess that’s why you still runnin’ with Dutch, ain’t it? You lot is always chasin’ some nonexistent treasure on the other side o’ the world. ...Heh. Guess you finally found yours. Wonder what would happen...if I put a bullet in him?”

“Leave the boy outta this, Colm!” I shouted, growing progressively more restless. “He ain’t got nothin’ to do with this, or Dutch! He’s just a goddamn kid!”

Colm laughed wickedly, grinning in Eddie’s direction.

“So? Kids die as well as adults, I’ve heard. ...Mind if I test that theory?”

I turned to the pianist, practically begging him to leave.

“Eddie, listen to me. Get the hell outta here! NOW! It ain’t worth it...! Go back home! Forget about me!”

The O’Driscoll frowned playfully, pouting in a condescending manner.

“Aww, would ya look at that? The big brute ain’t so emotionless, after all. Never would’ve guessed you was sweet on boys, Morgan. But I suppose it makes sense, seein’ as how no woman’s dumb enough to have you.”

Eddie ignored the snickers from his men and simply strengthened his hold on the shotgun, steadily aiming the barrel straight at Colm while I desperately tried to get his attention.

“Don’t do it!” I yelled over the merciless wind as the other O’Driscolls pointed their weapons at the boy. But he wasn’t listening.

“Eddie!” I exclaimed again, spitting rain from my mouth. “Listen to me, goddammit! Put the gun down...and run!”

Colm firmly held the revolver to my head, his finger inching over its trigger as he glared at the pianist with a daring look in his eyes.

“Yes, Eddie...” he goaded. “Be a good boy, and run...”

I could hear the sharp clicks of the other O’Driscolls cocking their guns, every single one of us now on the other end of a barrel.

By now, we was all soaked head-to-toe in water -- dirty and shiverin’ in the wind -- and the more rain that flooded through the land, the more Colm merely saw it as a chance to wash away the bloodshed that was about to commence.

I shut my eyes and braced myself for the storm that was about to come, knowing damn-well there was nothin’ I could say or do that would change Eddie’s mind.

The boy readied his weapon and took a deep breath, preparing to fire.

He rested his finger on the trigger.

“I don’t run.”

Takin’ us all by surprise, Eddie suddenly diverted his line of fire and shot through the window of a nearby shack, causing the entire building to explode into a thousand pieces as the impact shook the ground.

“What the hell?!” Colm blurted out, completely forgettin’ I was even there as he tried to keep his balance. But it weren’t over just yet.

Snaking its way across the grass, the fire followed a trail of oil that led it directly towards the next cabin, instantly igniting the dynamite that had been placed in that one as well as a distant sizzling sound reached our ears.

The cabin erupted into a colossal mass of flames with a thunderous boom, the chaos frightening the gang’s horses as they broke free from their hitching posts and galloped frantically all over the camp, trampling over O’Driscolls left and right.

“HOLY SHIT!” One of them screamed, watching helplessly as the rest of the camp was consumed by fire.

One after another, each of the cabins blew up in a line of explosions, the force sending shards of glass and broken splinters flyin’ all over the place while Colm’s men desperately tried to escape the mayhem, running around like headless chickens as they patted out the fire catching onto their clothes.

And as if that weren’t enough, Eddie used the remaining shell in his shotgun to blast away the O’Driscolls surrounding me, afterwards throwing the empty weapon away and whipping out his own revolvers before gunning down any survivors.

He fired a bullet into Colm’s arm, forcing the man to let me go as I slammed an elbow into his face, sending him straight into an unconscious state.

Eddie guided me to cover, giving me one of his revolvers while the two of us battled any remaining O’Driscolls.

“You’re outta your goddamn mind!” I exclaimed, diving behind a nearby wagon.

The pianist hid behind a tree, peeking out every once in a while to shoot down enemies as oncoming bullets grazed the side of the trunk.

“Maybe, but I’m alive.” Eddie reached over and allowed me to lean on him, sporadically firing behind us as he led me to his horse.

“Come on!” He urged, noticing my struggle. “Bullet’s not far from here. We can escape!”

I glanced back what looked like Hell’s gate raging in the middle of the camp, pushing myself to keep going.

“Oh, believe me...I have no intentions on staying...!”

Hauling me away from the battlefield, Eddie practically dragged me to his horse who was waiting just in the outskirts the camp, both of us growing more and more panicked as Colm’s men began to chase us.

Bullet neighed out of fear, only managing to stay somewhat calm due to the pianist’s presence as he helped me up.

“Oh, it’s good to see you, boy.” I greeted the regal animal, trying my best not to pass out while Eddie mounted up.

The musician took hold of the reins, not even bothering to look back before whipping them and commanding Bullet to gallop away from the scene.

“Hold on, we’re almost out of here!” He assured me.

Bolting across the Heartlands with the speed of lightning, Eddie and I ducked and swerved to avoid the numerous shots being fired at us as we sprinted through the relentless rain, digging up clumps of grass with how fast we was riding.

By now, there was probably a dozen O’Driscolls hunting us down, and if we didn’t find someplace to hide soon, they would catch up to us, too.

I shot a few sloppy bullets at them, unable to aim as well as usual as Eddie approached a railroad in the distance.

Even in my delirious state, I couldn’t help but notice the train that was powerin’ its way over the tracks, a bit too close for comfort. It looked like it would be long past us by the time we reached the railroad, and I didn’t much like our chances of makin’ it across...but of course, that didn’t stop Eddie.

I pointed to the train, alerting the boy.

“Eddie...! Up ahead!”

He soldiered on. “I see it. We have to beat the train if we want to get rid of these bastards!”

I darted my eyes around in a panicked manner, searching for another solution.

“You sure we can’t just shoot ‘em?!”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m out of ammo, and we don’t have enough left to take down that many men. That train is our only way out of here.”

I pulled the hammer down on my revolver, making the best of my last few shots.

“Aw, hell...!”

Rushing towards the tracks, Eddie snapped the reins with a sense of urgency as the train’s whistle blared in the distance, echoing throughout the entire area while Bullet raced as fast as he could. The O’Driscolls were slowly but surely gainin’ on us, and with every step we took, it seemed like they took two more. We would have to move a lot quicker than this if we had any hope of escaping.

Pushing his horse to pick up the pace, Eddie and I held our breaths as we approached the railroad, neither of us takin’ our eyes off the other side.

We couldn’t fall back now, and we definitely couldn’t let that goddamned train run us over. We had to get the hell outta here, and we had to reach safety. Makin’ it across was our only option.

Nearly leaping over the tracks, Eddie threw the three of us to the other side as the train practically grazed my back, barreling right in front of the O’Driscolls and preventing them from going any further while we rode to freedom.

There didn’t seem to be anymore enemies in sight, and judging by the lack of gunfire, I assumed they had given up in their pursuit.

We had escaped.

Finally slowing down to a halt once we were alone, Eddie and I took a moment to catch our breaths as we rested in the middle of nowhere, wonderin’ where the hell to go from here.

We couldn’t return to Saint Denis. That was where Colm and that other lunatic cornered me in the first place -- and Eddie too, no doubt. It was no longer safe for the boy to stay there, and I sure as hell had no plans to go back to that god-awful city anytime soon.

I just didn’t know what other choices we had.

Turning around in his saddle, Eddie gently brought his hands to my face and lifted my chin, staring intently into my eyes as he examined my wounds.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice quiet due to distress, “Arthur, are you okay?”

I let out a strained groan, finding comfort in Eddie’s soft grasp.

“...You damn fool...!” I scolded. “...What the hell was you thinking? Comin’ after me like that. You coulda--” a sting of pain flashed throughout me, causing me to hiss. “You coulda gotten killed...!”

The boy ran his fingers through my hair, attempting to soothe me.

“You didn’t really expect me to just leave you behind, did you?”

I clutched my ribs, still sore from the beating Colm gave me. “No...and that’s why I was worried.”

Eddie caressed my cheeks, forcing me to look at him.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” he apologized, “but I’ve saved myself enough times. When Atticus killed my father, I ran. When he sent Thatcher to kill my mother, I ran. And when my sister cried for help after she had been cornered by an assassin...” Eddie’s voice faltered, “...I ran.”

He regained composure, bringing his gaze back to me as he held back the tears that threatened to spill.

“I wasn’t going to run from you. And I’ll never run from anything again.”

I sighed at that, secretly admiring his determination but also afraid it would put him in danger again.

“You’ve certainly got some stones, Eddie...” I breathed out, barely able to speak coherently, “but sometimes, you gotta run. Whether you like it or not. You hear me...?”

Eddie nodded, though a bit reluctantly. “I hear you. Speaking of running though, where do we go from here? I can’t take you to Saint Denis. That’s where Rodrick found me. He left a note on my doorstep. Underneath your own hat, no less.”

The pianist reached into his saddlebag and pulled out my hat, returning it to me.

I took the accessory in hand, giving him a puzzled look. “Rodrick? Who’s that?”

“Rodrick Kingsley. He works for Atticus. That man is absolutely insane, Arthur. He relishes pain, and I’m sure you must’ve encountered him at least once during your stay at Colm’s camp.”

A bitter taste filled my mouth at the sound of his name. “Feller with the red hair and scar over his eye?”

“That’s him.” He confirmed. “But my question remains: do you have any idea where we could hide for the time being?”

I weighed our options, thinkin’ about any areas that would be secluded enough for us to stay.

I didn’t wanna camp out in the wilderness by ourselves again. After all, we had just seen how many men Atticus had at his disposal, and the last thing I wanted was to be ambushed out there when we was alone like at the Kamassa. The ideal location would be somewhere with a decent amount of people around us.

But...that would narrow it down to only one possibility.

Shit. I guessed we had no other choice.

Peering at the mountains over my shoulder, I squinted my eyes in the sun and pointed towards the southeast, informin’ Eddie on where to go.

“There’s only one place I can think of that’ll be relatively safe for us,” I explained. “But it ain’t gonna be easy gettin’ you in there.”

The pianist quirked a brow. “Why’s that?”

I hesitated before telling him, feelin’ like an absolute moron for giving away our hideout like this. It was a risky move, and the whole gang would probably end up tannin’ my hide for this, but there was nowhere else we could turn to.

I decided to go with it.

“It’s...it’s where the rest of my gang is holed up,” I explained. “It’s where Dutch is. A place...called Shady Belle.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #arthur morgan x male oc #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story

[shut-up-math]

Home Is Where the Pack Is

[Author Note: Okay be nice. I haven’t written an actual fanfic in like two years but I really wanted to do a (Not so little) fic of Martin x Amanda fluff and the Rowdy 3 after last weeks episode so this is what happened.]

Martin sat back and watched as the shadows danced across the trees as the light of the fire licked at the night sky. The Bofuki Nepoo (A name that would still take him some getting used to) were an odd people, if they even were that. They danced and jumped around like animals for what felt like forever and played music like no Rowdy had ever heard before and their food tasted sweeter than candy. However they were not only offering the Rowdy 3 a safe haven in this strange land, but celebrating with them as well. And what a cause for celebration. The Rowdy 3, together once again.

Martin leaned against a hut with his thumb pressed to his lower lip in thought. He missed the sensation of a cigarette between his lips. It was just a reminder they weren’t quite out of the woods yet. Away from Blackwing perhaps, but now a new threat loomed overhead. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

The wind shifted suddenly and Martin could feel Amanda’s presence before she stepped beside him crossing both arms and leaning up against the hut. He never dropped his gaze as his eyes flicked back and forth between Gripps and Cross who were linked arm in arm dancing around Vogel who was now hooting and flapping his arms like an owl, grinning ear to ear. “Bit poetic, ain’t it?” He huffed with a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “You showin’ up just when we were about to give up hope—BOOM!” He made an explosive gesture with his hands, mimicking rain trickling down over him. “Drummer girl saves the day!”

“Well, what the hell else was I supposed to do, stuck in Puff the Magic Dragon’s bad acid trip? Besides…Vogel really missed you guys. ” Modestly Amanda laughed trying to act like it was no big deal, despite feeling the complete exhaustion of whatever freaky psychic shit she had managed to pull off. Even under the waterlogged mascara and eyeliner, he could tell by the dark circles under her eyes she hadn’t been sleeping well. Though, Martin wasn’t sure he looked all that great himself. Two months of starving will do that to a guy. It was impossible to imagine what she and Vogel had gone through trying to find them. It was hard enough running from Blackwell, even more difficult finding it.

His lips parted trying to find the right words to thank her for…well, everything but the moment was cut short when Vogel and Gripps grabbed Amanda by the arms and hoisted her up on Cross’s shoulders while the Bofui Nepoo slammed their hands against the ground in a rhythmic pattern. “Admit it, Drummer! You missed our ugly mugs!” Cross teased as he balanced her weight while he moved around the camp fire.

“Of course she did! Vogel laughed hysterically as he smacked Martin’s arm. “Tell ‘em Drummer! You cried like a little cry baby after we went on the run!” Amanda knew he didn’t mean for it to embarrass her but it did. A light blush rose up on her cheeks, visible even in the dim light of the fire. The boy’s comment left a sour feeling in Martin’s stomach, not liking the mix of emotion he felt emanating off of Amanda nor the thought of her lying awake crying while they were locked up.  

“’Cry baby’?!Oh please!” She retorted back to Vogel with a scoff. “Who was comforting who when we accidentally burnt down that Circle K because somebody doesn’t like spiders” Cross then launched Amanda into Gripps’s arms who gently set her back onto the ground.

Vogel gave her a playful shove. “I told you! Nothing that small should be able to build cool web stuff outta their butt!”

“And I told you not to mix lighters and hair spray! That’s an outside activity!” Amanda teased back.

“Sounds like you two got quite the adventure to tell.” Gripps joined along side Cross. “Can it wait til morning?” Cross yawned as he leaned his head on Gripps’s shoulder. “Dancing’s not as fun when you’ve been in a box for two months.”

“Agreed. Those box headed guys really filled me up too. I need a nap.” Gripps nodded and his head sunk onto Cross’s.

“You always need a nap.” Vogel hummed as his eyes closed. Amanda seemed to notice, even before they returned from Blackwing that the Rowdy 3 had a kind of Hive Mind thing going. She could see the exhaustion settling in on each of their faces at the same time.

“Come on,  Wakti Wapnasi said we had a place we could crash for the night.” Amanda said gesturing for them to follow.

“Wak-tee-woop-what-what?” Martin made an attempt at the name, giving up half way through.

“Just…don’t even try to make sense of it. I gave up after the unicorns. I know this place is batshit, but trust me on this, the old lady with the butterfly face is cool.”

­­­————————

Amanda lead them to what looked like a bird’s nest made of every color feather imaginable, and then some. By the time 4 out of 5 Rowdys had settled in it reminded Amanda of when they’d sleep in the van. Dog piled into a small space, limbs wrapped around each other as make-shift pillows, the complete concept of personal space thrown out the figurative window. Amanda knew well enough to know to pile in last for fear of being crushed under Cross’s boney elbows or be stuck by Vogel’s smelly feet. Martin on the other hand ended up on top beside Amanda, both using Gripps’s shoulder to support their heads, Cross’s long arm draped across Martin’s chest.

Almost instantly the snoring started. A familiar noise Amanda didn’t realized how much she missed. For the first time in two months…no before that even. Maybe for the first time ever, even while being stuck in a weird land that sounded like a nursery rhyme, Amanda felt at home. The feeling settled into her chest and again Martin could feel the warm comfort of emotion roll off of her in waves. The snores mixed in with the faint distant music of the Bafuki Napoo still playing tribal drums and the crickets chirps echoed into the forest making it feel like it went on forever.

Martin could feel the others drift to a deep sleep but he couldn’t keep off edge. Every crack of a branch had him twitching, listening, feeling for anything that might dare ruin this moment. His family was back together and it still felt like any second Blackwing would sweep through the grass the moment his guard was down and he’d be back at square one. For a brief moment he entertained the idea that this was all just a beautiful dream and soon he’d wake up still dangling from a chain in the ceiling but quickly dismissed the idea feeling his heart race at the thought. It was then he felt the shift of Amanda’s boot against his and hearing the subtle sigh of someone still awake.

“Drummer?” He whispered over his shoulder to her.

“Hm?” Came a soft reply as she did the same before shifting onto her back to hear him better. He mirrored her actions so they were face to face now and suddenly Amanda was finding herself aware of how close they really were.

“Thanks.” Martin spoke softly again, just loud enough for her to hear. He could see here attempting modesty again but quickly put a hand up to silence her. “Not just for this…Vogel too. I know he ain’t …” Martin stopped himself for fear of sounding insulting. He loved Vogel like a little brother, of course he did, but he also wasn’t blinded enough to not see that spending most of a boy’s educational years in a government facility and then on the run with three crazy psychic vampires didn’t do Vogel any favors.

“Martin…it’s okay. I get it, we actually had a lot of fun along th-” She tried but again he put a hand up.

“He’d be dead if’weren’t for you. We all would. Takes a lot of balls to do what you did, to last ‘s long as ya did. To still have hope after two months of nothing. Shit you’re more Rowdy than any of us.” It was now Amanda was realizing this was the most serious she had seen Martin. There was a desperation behind his eyes that pained her to see. She tried her best to swallow the knot in her throat, but there was no hiding your feelings from the Rowdy 3. After a long silence once more Martin cleared his throat.

“I cried too by the way….” He spoke softer than before but the words hit Amanda like a ton bricks to the chest. She knew what he was doing, trying to make her feel better about Vogel calling her out earlier, but it didn’t change the fact that the pain in her chest grew tighter. “Don’t tell the boys. We were locked I separate cells beside each other.” He explained. “When y-you…”He cleared his throat and gave the hint of a sniffle. “A few moments before you pulled us through that-what’dya call it? Magic water thing?! It’d been days since we’d seen anyone. Not Priest, not Friedkin, not even that weird little assistant guy who filled our water bottles. Just…darkness and I was sitting there thinking…We’re never going to get outta here. Then –” He snapped his fingers softly. “Splash, I see you looking back at me and smell the most delicious meal I’ve had in months.” He smiled licking his lips at the residue of energy drained off the knights. “And it all feels like a dream still…Thank-Ooof!” Martin grunted as Amanda’s small arms wrapped around him pressing her cheek to his chest.

“Quit fucking thanking me already. Just don’t ever leave us like that again.” Her words were mumbled into the fabric of his suit, but heard none the less. Martin didn’t need to use his abilities to know she was crying again, though the emotion was powerful.

“Promise, Drummer Girl. Never again.” The words passed between his lips in a heavy sigh against her hair and he wrapped his arms around her as she shook slightly trying to hold back sobs. His beard burrowed into her hair as they nuzzled closer together. After silence and time he felt her begin to drift to sleep. The sun crept over the trees and birds chirped as morning slinked across the forest floor. Martin never let himself fully fall asleep, ever watchful of the Rowdy 3. All five of them.

#okay i did it #i hope you guys like it #takadasaiko #i said i'd tag you if i wrote this so here you go buddy! #the rowdy 3 #dirk gently's holistic detective agency #dghda #martin x amanda #amanda x martin #martin #amanda brotzman #cross #gripps #vogel #jacob vogel #dirk gently fanfic #fan fic #dirk gently #dghda ff #dirk genty

[runawaykanine-blog]

The Beginning

~ starter for @gruntadminloch ~

~~~

The boy made his way through the dark, keeping to the shadows, as a large black dog padded along by his side, the chain around its neck jingling softly with the bounces of its heavy body. The night was cold, so his hood was up and his hands were shielded in his pockets. The dog gave an occasional, soft noise in its throat to reassure him, sensing his nerve. It had taken so much courage to do this, and there was no going back now. Even as fear settled in his stomach and his fists tensed, he pressed on. After a while, it came into view. Those tall grey walls he’d heard so much about. As they became clearer, the soft presence of rain was suddenly noticeable on the boys bare legs. He shivered, before ducking into the shelter of the trees. The dog followed suit. “…I see two guards at the front gate, no sign of anyone patrolling the perimiter…what do you think, Ammo?” The Houndoom let out a soft ‘boof’ sound in response, which was rewarded with a scratch to the ear and a small rainbow-striped bean offered on the palm of his hand, which the dog took gratefully and crunched down in mere seconds. “We’ll circle around unnoticed and climb up the back wall…I may need your help for that.” The Houndoom gave an affirmative boof, before they silently made their way to the back wall, avoiding any sudden movements. When they made it safely, the boy looked up at the easily 30-foot, flat wall and scratched his arm throughtfully. “…right, I expected it to be a bit more uneven…but it looks pretty flat. I may not be able to climb up there.” Houndoom sniffed, before jumping up to set his paws on the wall. On his hind legs he easily towered a foot over the boys head. He looked up at the smooth wall, and back at Houndoom, who looked right back at him. “…fine, we’ll try it.” He sighed before carefully climbing up the dog, being careful not to hurt him, and positioning himself with both feet on his curved horns. “Right, now what, genius…” He was still barely half way up, even stood on top of the giant 400lbs dog, but this was their best bet. Houndoom knew it. With a growl, the dog bent his knees, before springing up powerfully, propelling his master upwards. Not quite powerful enough, however, as the poor boy tumbled back down. Houndoom looked down at him as he lay on the ground. The boy glared up at him, huffing. “Nice one.” He got up, dusted himself off, and tried a different approach. This time, he climbed on top of Houndooms back, clinging to him tightly, as the dog dug his sharp claws into the wall and tried his best to climb it. However, with their combined weight, he didn’t make it far, and they both tumbled down. After a good few minutes of brainstorming, (and hitting his head against the damned wall a couple of times for good measure,) the boy finally had an idea. He turned to Houndoom, but his eyes widened to find the dog powering up a flame charge aimed directly at the wall. He rushed towards the dog, grabbing him by his already flaming horns, burning his hands a little bit in the process, but he was used to it by now. His voice was hushed but stern. “No no no, we wanna JOIN them! Not destroy half the town and make them our enemies!” Houndoom gave a short, confused whine, before powering down, letting the flames coating his body die out. “Listen…I’m gonna try doing this solo.” Houndoom stared at him with his big, disapprovingly orange eyes. “You’ve been great, I promise, but I think it’ll be harder to get up there with both our body weights…I’m lighter than you, so maybe I have a better chance.” With a sniff and an offended growl, Houndoom returned to his pokéball in the boys backpack. “Well, can’t say I don’t try.” The boy stood, and approached the wall, shaking his arms to loosen them up in preparation for scaling this great adversary.

~~~

Turns out, the wall did have a few cracks that aided with grippage. About a quarter way up now, face straight with concentration, the boy shuffled his way upwards, keeping his body close to the wall at all times. His fingers gripped at a loose brick, which shifted and dislodged slightly at his weight, and for a moment he froze, sweat dripping down his forehead. 'Come on, this was in the first training exercises, it should be easy…’, he thought to himself. Carefully, he pushed himself up again, reaching for any grip and then he found it - his fingers curled around an edge. He looked up. He’d reached the top, finally. 'Okay, just gotta get up there, don’t look down.’

Heaving, he hoisted his other arm up, chin resting on the top of the wall, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. The rain, thankfully, was helping to cool down his tired body, and he growled as he forcefully lifted one leg over, then the other one. Panting, the boy carefully sat up, legs dangling over the wall. “These guys should really invest in some barbed wire…” He looked out over the town. It seemed peaceful enough. Even in the dark, though, he could see the wrecked houses and crudely spraypainted skull symbols and offensive gestures. Admittedly, very different from training camp, but he could get used to it. …then came the problem of getting down the wall. He had some rope in his backpack, so he took it out quietly and looked around for something to tie it on to. There, the loose brick on the other side of the wall. He tied a loop in the rope and hooked it around the brick, testing its durability with a sharp tug. The brick stayed in place, as did the rope. With a triumphant little smirk, the boy grabbed the rope firmly with both hands, and hung down, his feet pressed to the wall. Slowly, he began walking down, breath shaky with excitement. For once, he wasn’t following orders from someone he didn’t even like…no, he was making his own choices this time. It felt nerve-wracking but…fun. About half way down, the boy felt a sharp movement in the rope. He looked up. The brick had almost entirely dislodged itself from the wall. Any movement and it would probably fall. “Shit.” He looked down…it was only about a fifteen foot drop, he’d handled worse. So, he let go of the rope and fell. His body hit the earth with a loud thud, and he groaned, rolling onto his back. Another sharp sound caught his attention, and he looked up. The large brick had dislodged, and was quickly hurtling towards him. In the last second, he rolled out of its way, and it made an even louder thud as it embedded itself in the earth, right where his head was. Lungs heaving, the boy shook off the shock and got to his feet, leaning against the wall. Before he could get his bearings, however, a bright light shone on him, blinding him. A punkish mans voice spoke out. “Well well, look what we got ourselves 'ere. What’s a lil’ boy like you doin’ out so late, hm? Y'know there’s bad people around these parts.” The voice chuckled, and another one joined in. The boy looked towards the voices, but they were silhouettes against the light of the flashlight they held to him. “Yeah, you gotta lotta nerve showin’ up here unannounced, the Boss won’t be too happy, y'feel me?” This time it was a young womans voice, slightly gravelly in tone. The boy straightened up. “Listen, I’m not here to cause any trouble, I’m just–GAH!!” A swift punch to the stomach shut him up. ~~~ After a minute or so of beating the kid against the wall, the grunts smirked at each other and bashed their fists together. “Now do we take 'im t'the Boss?” The girl said, almost excitedly. “Yeah, rookie, now we take 'im in an’ show 'im who he’s messin’ with.” They both took the kid by the arms, hoisted him up, and dragged him around to the front of Shady House, snickering to each other. ~~~ He’d handled worse beatings in the army, to be quite frank, and though it hurt, he didn’t allow himself to cry out in pain. He lay there and took it.

As the thugs picked him up, his fuzzy hearing just caught those last words. 'Now we take him to the Boss.’ He was almost relieved, that was who he wanted to speak to in the first place. And he couldn’t have been much worse than these two brutes. ~~~ The grunts made their way up the staircase and around towards the large doors which the Boss’s little “pet” always guarded. These two in particular liked to tease him, which sometimes ended in punishment, but honestly it was worth it. “Hey, hey Loch!! Look what we found crawlin’ on the wall.” The male grunt shouted from across the hall as they dragged the intruder towards him. “Apparently he CLIMBED it.” The girl added, with an air of disbelief to her voice. “Looks like an army rat t'me. Look at the dog tags.” The male grunt pointed to the silver tags hanging around the boys neck. The boy in question raised his head slightly to look at the third grunt. This one didn’t look as thuggish as the other two, but he held his tongue in case he got another jab to the stomach. “He’s young for a rat. We were gonna let the Boss decide what t'do with him, is he busy?” The female grunt leaned over to whisper to her friend. “He can’t be too busy if Loch’s still out here, heheheheh…” Both of them snickered to one another, and the boy hanging between them raised an eyebrow. 'How charming,’ he thought.

#🐾 ᴏɴ ɢᴜᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴜᴛʏ 🐾 ~ ic #please post #edit: IT POSTED HALLELUJAH

[marcosoropoet]

Subtextual

1~ With a curious reluctanct endearment I push open the old mossy stone door once more, more so, its creaks razor sharp, its groans prolonged, and even if you might chance upon my being away on furlough, which begs the question... yet, still, I bid you come along enter since I am alone, tonight, and all I think of is you. the interface efficient, see if there's anything...again as it is always; to see if there's anything, again. something electric and vast. something that is from day to night to day... something brilliantly bright Still, I must cover myself from the brightness of day, and I am not ashamed. Those people laughing outside sound like hyenas post modulation. If I were from your earth, hype would arouse and excite me maybe (it is so often manufactured & crafted so irresistibly)... even ciphered anomalous flarfy glitches or black spidery realizations frozen in mid-scream my feet don't feel as though they are touching and treading ground. searingly clear & hyper-real floating Hey! Hey! (waving) I see somebody- (running up to them)— Hey! I see someone walking towards me across the street, but in my dream, the clumps of greyish snow don't allow me to see how they are (((walking)))...hard to record my found footage audio and video.shit!!! movie buzz is chainsaws love human flesh ~ 2~ mysterious more glancing out the car window the burning needle embroidering curtains of cloud-mystifying infinite violet and red radio tableaux, a tactile postmodern nostalgic melancholy.... affixing associatives in rampant aggregate slowness; flashing known images of fields, houses, rusted fixtures, patinaed a bright orange red-brown, horses, & certain deep periwinkle blue wildflowers she really likes... in my private self I lose the center of this piece and plunge, more into the fingerprints fetching a face, myself, I see you. that I am here. a punchyouface tongue-out in the funhouse restrained endless cloistered chasm trauma loop I penetrated through damaged fake tongue warning, our glass galaxy, is after all, suspended awash in opal blue, an oceanic wave of time is sweetly scrawled: because it must do with time. 3~ navigated by the black-cloud rope smoke of inertia & cold slanting rain pummeling under sound pounding studio bootleg basement lichen leavening every square inch of air awestruck with violet reversal, we looked horrified brain crazy. all the while the aroma of desert sage, outdoor coffees and our blue sky is never the same again you know you... frozen still burning quantum dreaminess, inside the black hole, light blue-grey microcosm ruse of identity melting frog candy, causal spinning eyes almost deeper now. no it's a red splatter handprint of smoke darkening room spacestealing nihilistic distorted space erasure gutted black caricature inert everything offends and our blue-grey microcosm ruse of inertia & movie buzzing endless timestamped outtakes; rain pummeling under sound pounding studio bootleg basement rhythm & blues hmmmmmmmmmmmm... harmonica: an imparted sharp musical squeal fell to the glass floor cracking in quickly fissuring musical inches of bubbling silver flash guitar wailing hard...itsa gotsa wail hard chil' (((Twang))) itsa gonsta wail so hard chil' ev'ry night and day (((Twang-a Twang Twang))) I sed, heh (((Atwang-a Twang Twang)))...Wwwelll... 4~ navigated by the black hole, light blue sky is never the same again you know you... frozen still burning inert everything offends and is confusing every square inch of air awestruck with tricky quantum reversal mindbend episode triggers blooming we looked Horrified Brain Crazy. all the while the aroma of ice blue desert sage, outdoor black coffees every square electric inch of raw air grimace— Hardcore Serious Animal Real serial repeated ditching Sequences when I move my hand beyond the light The sky the sharpest expert royal blue, chalk-white-bark. Rose-red threads weave dreams of Blustering Roses under Blue-Black Skies. Fingerprints fetch a face, mystifyingly filed in with the letters X&Z, "I was jus' goin' down tha street...heh, did you jus' mutt'r: "ramshackle derelic', you suppose, inside trash industrial chain link fake funk tongue warning out through damaged electronic faked out tongue "tutti-frutti" baby babeh...sound pounding out the center of this piece's fingerprints really gettin' down tuhnite babeh?! "I sho' enuf did...babeh! "whew! fetched me a face, myself (I lose) (I like) the black-cloud chasm trauma Looked Horrified by the Presence of Air Awestruck Twice in the Frozen Half of yesterday overlapping superimposing quietly with minimal embellishment. The morphing stand-alone Center of Inert-Everything Feral Chasm Trauma dormant looked horrified brain crazy in The Center of a Fresh Gelatinous Engineered Peach...glowing bright, Lime Yellow Lava Projected Blobs melting one into the other in citrus and cinnamon associative scents...synthetic dark patchouli notes~ —in the back: the band's waiting, twitching, rustling around edgily rumbling, banging about; a cymbal clashes and everyone registers the unique sound: their muffled pranks continue to keep themselves cracking up so badly— geeks re-recording the faux equivalent of dated found filler footage super8mm reductive spotlight trash b-roll fantasy knockout...drums pound and roll hard, cymbals clash, band members filmed yawning on silvery scratched up film...looking wildly blank, dressed weird on purpose, sitting in a chair, red and green brocade...sensational auteur angles...superimposed out of frame constant quirky jump cuts in a jerky slow motion— urns of inertia & rain pummeling navigating the serpentine candle-lit old-brick-passages and*time portals*> >>> > >>> >>> >>> >>>] the needle burning the LP deep past midnight baby soft background scratches and easy funk vibes playin' slow... far deep-red basement cloister black and white art deco textiles, stepping inside the trauma loop pattern I penetrated, tossed inside trash industrial cinema churning, suffused in streaming bluecloud fingerprints fetch a face, inside industrial trash cinema churning, the conversation...the recording. In my private self I lose the car window's identity.mystifying, shaping emptily, basement chairs of faked tongue warning spread out vastly, magenta clouds, pink moons, and a green rope smoke of flame and licking fire, makes the whole skylook green chalk white mottled bark beyond the light microcosm grey-blue light quantum ore skips time burning still frozen smoldering deep grey-moss ruse of rubber spider legs identity melting, causal spinning eyes almost deep splatter handprint of smoke darkening room spacestealing nihilistic distorted space erasure gutted black caricature hardcore serious real serial electric implements, repeatedly ditched the trophies, skipped the noir and hard-boil egg-peeled the victims, one by one "momma-momma, this is whin thuh program starts up, showin' yuh all thoze pitchers of thuh serial killahs strikin' ag'in and ag'in in a weirt circl' were thuh camera slowly zooms out tah revill from direc'ly ovahhead one of 'em momma, insahd anothuh large circl' of all kindsa weaponry...lookit fur yerself momma...see? 5~ sequences are stilled when I move my eyes beyond the light of the venetian blinds, and complancies of lilac valances... (the wind outside howls through the slanting rain). it's always been a miasmic isolated place... grey, dank, overgrown with burbling albino moss... and a rare and very deep-violet lichen. 6~ I Sn-nuuuck*- - - through the/hee-hee-hee/house HaLLWays to the LaUnDrysome clothes done...clotheschangecolor .but they chanGeUPchange t he t he...eeeeethecolor clothes of clothes negativo to the "neGative" négatif of the O/riginal ColOr…no bot 2///bot3-x-x-x pod cast install bot 4: synthesizing other annoyed bots and aberrant rogue algorithms. "mamA MAma MAmewww oOoO HURREeEe I think up hurry it's those _S-SErial KillaHS down dowNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNstairs DOWn...thuh...B-B-block :LIVE alien tunnel collapse horror[FILm/ed pure filmic inversion filmed Livestream accessible: entry portals close in 5 earth or increments|..../*/*/* |repeat : audio is still sideways\ again-0-no/…\t00—Trying hardto regain the-camera Again. noise/sounds lik|e plain staticXXX}]}]}]fweepooowha-wheee ---interference c*r*a*c*k*l*in*g/ there unidentifiable. Heavy static, beeps, and clicks...we are proceeding—I REPEAT we are proceeding—Lock it the fuck down NOW and bounce! Radio...banging noises...repeated thuds, garbled audio/an indistinct scream, but a clearly sequenced human scream from next door, listen for it when the tape is run back. Very loud—yikes! I think it's that guy with the hat and flimsy raincoat. 7~ Lightflash pinball machine arcades are an ambient and surprising ethos of cheap hyper bright jewel tone lights, many mirrors re-reflecting low art in other mirrors, projected radiant phases of the resonating stadium roar were pure human-machine. For forgive for interrupt inter attention ACTION cycle breakthrough exchange cycling down. I am the machine, and myself we beg rest...just the pittance of a few nano seconds & infinity are virtually interchangeable...please I need to re-up, to get well: you might complex : compress : comprehend|:| you probably may not even see but I must shut down now:/command.> override to optional personalized AI thought interface access5access4access3access2access 1access- - / |---------------------------------- ----- * Utter Quintessential granted key-trace ///-...enter code signal * ///code: : : crackling smoky synapses trailing electrical eclectic thought, lightning... tv program black-out: energy matrix, excursus scrutinized: Carnival bumper cars trail ceiling sparks gloriously arcing a piercing blue spray of cascading fire & silver smoke sputtering and spraying flashes of bright blue dotted iterations of light rawly all over our heads— that smelt so burnt-up & good. ~ Marcos Oro

#sci-fi #mystery #surreal parody #modern poetry #non-linear #experimental

[its-raining-ramen]

Angel, velvet, pearl, satin

Funny you put angel because You’re An Angel

Angel: What is your dream aesthetic? Poetic things written in spraypaint graffiti, photos taken with older cameras that put a date and timestamp on em, overcast skies shadowing some sorta cement infrastructure/architecture (the good greys hehe), vaguely threatening surreal imagery, anything vaguely threatening and poetic Hits The Target and I have examples of what I mean but I’m already takin up so much of everyone’s space,, also I wouldn’t be able to source em I’ve had em saved for so long

Velvet: Describe your dream home A blissful concoction of vampiric victorian gothic and woodland log cabin, but only in the home parts, still want that storefront ground floor apartment kinda situation although there’d be So Many plants throughout the entirety,, it’d only be My Dream if my most loved ones lived there with me though

Pearl: What is your favourite: scent, flavour, sound, texture? I’m gonna be such an ass and make a list as if I’m so important lmao

Scent - Trees, flowers, certain thrift shops and old buildings always have a real good smell, y’know how people have their own scent to em?? Two irl friends come to mind which I realize is real weird of me to put but I’unno man, rain

Flavor - Vanilla, honey, mint, the malt part of Whoppers, coconut, pineapple, have you ever had one of those Fujiya Milky candies?? those are real good and I’m realizin I like a lot of milk based sweets but not milk as a drink, sweet coffee, certain boba teas like red bean and taro although tbh if I tried em all I’d probably like em all a lot

Sound - Reversed music/audio, when a chorus sings but not in words?? Like this (if it doesn’t jump to the part it starts at 2:35), fave’s and friend’s voices (like yours!!!), a reeaally good drum in a song (Ahem), when strings or what have you are played in a way that sounds like how a spider’s legs move or how trickling drops of water on glass look.. is the best way I can describe that, notes from a piano or bell that sound like raindrops, the static sorta effect things being played from a record player or an older radio get, a lot of laughs like any time Danny Avidan is laughin I am cured of my depression, heavy rain or a storm, nature sounds in general, this list is gettin long my apologies

Texture - My cat, That One Kind of soft throw blanket, I have a shirt with real unique stitching on the inside that’s soft but still feels really cool, is water a texture?? water, when a cluster of really fresh cuts heal, flower petals either living or withered, fabrics made to look like vintage things

Satin: What never fails to make you happy? Oh Like You Don’t Know Umprompted out-of-nowhere affection either words or physical, being asked stuff about me or my interests, or just gettin to ramble about stuff I like in general even more so if it’s with someone who Also likes whatever it is, unexpected good things whether it be on a grand scale like new songs from a fave or a new Game Grumps or whomever of a game I love Or more personal like someone gettin me a nice drink or showin me somethin that reminded em of me, pretty much any affectionate attention lmao

#i love you so much #this one got real long and took real long i am so sorry @ everyone #gubbins-turtledove

[howlingcommandoreigns-archived]

In honour of International Women's Day, tell us a little about the three (3) most influential or important women in your life.

My ma, the grand dame of House Anoa’i raised my three sisters an’ I on her own since my old man was always on the road an’ I’ve got mad respect for her understandin’ an’ acceptance of the business very few who marry into it have as well as the patience an’ her love for a man chasin’ a dream an’ puttin’ food on the table his way whose ‘I love you’s came over a house phone which was always full of static when rains got heavy. We grew up watchin’ dad on our TV during dinner while she counted down the days to when he was gonna be back an’ she did everythin’ in the household---taxes, cooking, bills, least until we grew up old enough to take care of it all---an’ never loved us any less for it. Got my strength an’ them good genes from my old man no doubt, but diligence an’ love an’ compassion, those I got from her. Always a mama’s boy, ain’t no shame in it. 

Do kids count? ‘Cause I’m throwin’ Jojo into the mix, god knows the little monster’s taught me a thing or two the moment she stumbled into my arms at the Performance Center close to three years ago after state-hoppin’ on two greyhound buses with this old-ass clip cutting from my college magazine feat. me an’ her mom. She’s got sand for days an’ a gorgeous figure-four leglock, you’re lookin’ at a future badass ain’t afraid to stand her ground an’ sock the fuck outta anyone tryin’a shove her down for it an’ I couldn’t be prouder. Kids raise you as much as you raise ‘em.

An’ there’s my wife, Catherine, who I gotta thank for showin’ me what a real relationship should feel like; I spent too long in another too toxic to talk about at length here, but with her honestly I’ve got it made. Ain’t no emotional manipulation or drama or yellin’ an’ pointin’ fingers or any of that shit---If we got an issue, we talk about it, if it’s still a problem, we fix it, hell or high water we’ve got each other’s backs an’ she supports my dreams as hard as I support hers. Yeah sometimes there might be disagreements, but there’s nothin’ close to feelin’ like goin’ home to someone like that an’ fallin’ asleep in their arms without a damn care in the world because for that moment, we’re the only ones in it. She’s my northern light, my way home. I’ll stumble an’ fall on the way there sometimes, but I’ll come home always. 

[senornachos-blog]

AI created Rap Song

So I found this program that will create a hip-hop/rap song. I think this would probably sell like a trillion copies: Fat nicks for 10 til the bricks I wear Gold you wear jerseys while mine a throwback and Yours is you smelling boy cause entwain shot up In the trunk and my name in vain what You don't come out, no gloves Picture in my lord, if I grow Blind through the streets with all due respect, We huselazz huselazz we sell drugz and Tell thugz live it we yell it We screamin' murda murda we are the world's Most dangerous you don't know is gon' splitcha I Can remeber, the pcp got 'em all Uhh, uhh, ever heard of My money man nobody likes me nobody likes me nobody Likes me, I'll f***ing erase them your success is Not expected but it's given 'cuz it's real being neglected And all I see you dreaming I Cock spread hit ho's love that shit I put out Ya get ya heated then deny it like That u know me, still holla At a party I got yours send in the Drop drive around heavy tryna find big and Tupac just ain't around everywhere you go Against the grain rule number two give Respect where respect due rule number two Give respect where respect due rule number three if you Got whatchu came for what's that y'all N***as don't want 'em next to me bitch You can chirp it your pass is valid All summer my dear so at your wake cartel...  F***in skull get popped, see my shit then They ask why that's cause you hit A n***a too high strung got scary love For thugs n***az firing slugs stage rapping ass n***az ain't Sold no drugs gotta show me the One, came from showin n***az my mac Spit see I'm on the wall, off the map With the ez pass f*** the don Perion and the 6 for the next track Yo, yo ya naz wanna feel how hollow Tips rain, snow anythinh to speed Up the guns I'm running the region, you could Count on your block down assault rifle With a tommy gun, the heat's been in My eyes red, somethin' outta nothin' like turn An empty block, I see you with the Little stones got little clientele fiends call your guards Quick better go call your guards quick better go and Cop coke from the castle and put a hex On me, I'll fill your ass glaucoma its Hard to live my life or I'm Just robbin to eat and there's at least A thousand of us declarin' us the world's Most dangerous you don't have the time are you Ready, ready ready for war, you Know he like it I'll knock a Baller off his pivot with this shit right here The way down you see blood it's murda murda ya'll Ain't feelin who ya'll know the n***as That getting hot not lukewarm, my... Did some things to say since a twist of fate Follow you, follow you home. So here I am not the kind of boy Hope it's nice where you wanna make the very first scar?

#rap #rapper #rap music #rap monster #hiphop #nigga #real nigga #og #compton #drugs #weed #ganja #east side #west side #los angeles

[esmerelle-blog]

💖 A memory that made them feel special. ❤️ A happy memory that makes them smile

💖 A memory that made them feel special.

Esmerelle blinked, head tilting vaguely as lips pursed in a thoughtful manner, “Special, eh? There’s been lots’o times when oi been made t’ feel special. Lemme see…” A hand was lifted, setting index digit to tap one little claw lightly upon her chin, brows furrowed in musing. A gentle smile curled her lips, eyes reflecting warmth. “Oi, oi know. There was a boy, roight? Went by the name’o Lanny. We was friends fer years, an’ oi’m still nah sure iffin it were short fer anythin’…”

~~~~~~~~

He was taller now, broader, a skinny child that had surely grown into himself. One of his long arms was wrapped about her shoulders, Esmerelle tugged against his chest in a protective manner. “It’s alright Elle, you’re safe. I’m here.” She felt a kiss settled to the crown of her dark red hair, stirring green eyes to flick upwards. He had never done that before.

“Lanny?” His smile was disarming, soft, genuine, a true gentleman’s smile. For a moment she saw him as the young man he was growing into, and not the boy whom had chased her through the mud.

“Elle, I…” He paused, hazel eyes drifting away as his free limb swept upwards to run nervously through short-cropped black hair. She could feel his body stiffen beside her, his grip at her shoulder intensifying momentarily. Esmerelle pulled back some, to get a better look at her friend, freckled features aligned fully upon his face. Something seemed to pain him.

“My family, we’re leaving Gilneas…sailing for Kul Tiras in two days. Gonna make a new life there.” The final words of his admittance came with a sweep of his gaze back towards her, hazel met green and the two simply stared. Her lips opened, but he spoke first…  

“Come with me, Elle. Please?” His limbs maneuvered so as to pluck up her hands, squeezing them tightly. Around them, the sound of rain. “We’ll get married, we can have a family there. I know we’re young, but…” Desperation filled his features, and Esmerelle felt her heart swell with something new, never had someone other than her mother made her feel so special. “…you won’t ever be called a whoredaughter again. Ever. You won’t have to live in that brothel. I’ll take care of you. What do you say?” The sensation of tears rolled downward as she stared at him, her smile more brilliant than the two moons combined.

~~~~~~~~

“Ah, well, ‘course oi ‘ad t’ decline. There were no way oi could abandon me mum, ‘though oi know she woulda wanted it.” Esmerelle leaned back, taking in a wistful breath and releasing it. “Lanny left fer Kul Tiras, sure as the sun risin’ in the mornin’, but oi ain’t ever felt tha’ precious t’ summun since.”

❤️ A happy memory that makes them smile.

The smile manifested instantly, a soft thing that reflected the memory conjured, “Wot? A ‘appy memory? Oi, oi got me a lotta thems, ah but one, eh, one sticks out more’n them others…”

~~~~~~~~

“Now, m’ little Elle, ‘ow is it we start, hmm?” The child shifted her right foot forward as hands snapped to her waist, torso angling vaguely sideways. Arisabeth’s gentle hands moved to collapse upon back and collar, a minute bit of pressure bidding her daughter’s shoulders back. Grinning upwards, the youth straightened, beaming with pride. “There’s a good girl. Now, follow mummy, hmm?”

Esmerelle watched her mother step, doing her best to mimic the motions and sway her own skirt just so. Arisabeth was always a tired creature, even so young, Elle could see it behind her mother’s eyes, behind the joy and and smiles she easily wore for the girl. Moments such as these were to be savored.

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

Their heavy steps against the old wood of the brothel’s floor reverberated near throughout the entirety of the building’s bottom floor. Hand-in-hand they twirled, wild bits of laughter escaping the child as she danced.

“Oi! Who’s makin’ all the racket, eh? Tha’ y’ again Esmerelle?! Yer gonna get wallop! Arisabeth! Control yer brat!”

The shout halted Esmrelle’s movement, causing her mother to tense and shift a momentarily worried expression towards the stairs. “Wot d’ we say t’ that, eh, Elle my love?” Arisabeth was instantly beside her daughter, as that ever gentle hand fluttered to rest upon her shoulder in a reassuring squeeze. “Mummy?” 

Arisabeth sank to a crouch and nuzzled her daughter nose-to-nose while giggling, “We says…sod off Madam Mora!” With that her hands snatched up the much smaller limbs of her child, yanking Elle towards the door.

~~~~~~~~

“We hid from Madam Mora fer the ‘ole day n’ noight, flinchin’ supper from the kitchen and dancin’ together in the daisy field. We even went stargazin’, mum showin’ me ‘er favorite o’ them constellations.” A wistful sigh left her as Esmerelle’s features turned momentarily skyward, “I’ll ne’er ferget the beatin’ me mum got fer runnin’ off, missin’ a day o’ work an the loike…” Esmerelle waved her arms, grinning merrily, “Oi! Don’t yer go thinkin’ it be a sad memory now, it really ain’t! Despite all tha’, oi’ll always ‘member ‘ow ‘appy mum was t’ spend tha day with jus’ me. Made me real ‘appy too…”

(Thank you for the Ask! ^_^)

#Esmerelle Graye #Character Development #Ask My OC #Thank You!

[juliettetsunenaga]

[Log://2487.07.08] Blue Orchids and Tears [a story from old west]

[2487.07.08] 03:00

It was the early hours of Saturday morning and I was still working in the office. It had been a busy but useful week and I was finally done with calls and messages and reviews and ridiculous questions from the Bodega staff.

I padded silently through the cash office, out on to the shop floor, and through the few aisles in my stocking clad, shoeless feet. I stopped; some cheap synthesised Scotch or something nasty masquerading as Sake? I grabbed a bottle and slowly wandered back through to my office behind the small store.

I engaged the lock and then placed the bottle down on the console table beside the couch. From a drawer behind my desk I grabbed a hoodie, some jeans, and I changed slowly as I watched the feed screen cycling through the live images of the store, the street, the stairs up to the apartments in Sector 2.

I folded my dress, my stockings, pulled my hair from its formal knot at the base of my neck where it conceals the data port that pulses there gently, despite it’s current non-functioning state, and shook it out. I placed the clothes in the drawer where my hoodie and jeans had been a few minutes earlier. I wandered round my desk and slouched, cross legged, on the couch, looking intently at the bottle of cheap Scotch on my left. Sake wouldn’t have cut it tonight.

Dart had mentioned my orchids in our meeting here earlier this week. I’d shuddered as I replied that they were there in memory, though I hadn’t told him of whom or of what.

I relaxed back in to the couch with a sigh and I reached up for the bottle. I contemplated it for a few minutes, my breath barely breaking the silent solitude of my office. I shrugged to myself, and I twisted the small metal cap which crackled as it gave way under my hand. I sniffed suspiciously at the contents and looked down with one eye in to the bottle before giving in to it.

I drank, from the bottle. It was as disgusting as it smelled and tasted as cheap as I should have been selling it to the customers here in Cocoon. But that didn’t stop me, nor did it stop me wishing I still had a bottle of that beautiful imported stuff from Nieu Amsterdam… but my last bottle was due for delivery to it’s recipient. I looked at the time on my datapad, it was well after midnight. It was due for delivery today with the handwritten tag.

Earlier this week I’d taken time to carefully wrap the bottle in a square of vibrant blue silk, and I’d fastened the ends with my Tokuma pin. I placed the wrapped bottle in a laquered wooden box and I hung the tag from the pin.

I traced my fingers over the familiar shape absently, it’s contours known to me as if they were part of me after all these years. It was a hard and last minute decision to put it in the box… but somehow it seemed the right thing to do. The fitting thing to do. At least this way he’d know I was sorry, really sorry. I flipped the tag again to read the words I’d written.

“Six years ago today you told me, “It don’t matter if it’s the worst day of your fuckin’ life… To everyone else, it needs to be bein’ your best. Unshakable, always in control.” So drink the Scotch, get done with your crying where no one can see and then be unshakeable for everyone to see.

One day I’ll learn to listen to you to you first time round, I’m sorry.

She would have wanted you to have this.

J x”

He’s either going to smile or seethe, or worse… somewhere in between and continue to attempt to make my life a living hell. I continued to drink, the ‘Scotch’ was getting more palatable the more I swigged at the luke warm synthesised ethanol right from the bottle.

I keep defending him. People mention him, or mention his questionable business methods… and I defend him. He pushed me in to doing some awful, terrible things in 2481. But, in a fucked up way he’d always sort of looked out for me too despite it all. Especially once she was gone… before I was gone.

The creeping warmth afforded by the booze was taking hold and I continued making my way through the bottle at a rate of knots. Sometimes you just need oblivion to forget…

…it wasn’t my night. Morning. Whatever. Oblivion came at the bottom of the bottle, but as so happens when you drink to excess you don’t always get what you want. I was drifting in and out of conciousness on the small couch. Memories were flooding in and slipping away… and I cried.

Heavy, unshed tears held in for months rolled down my cheeks and then I finally gave way to unconciousness. Blissful nothing? No. ‘Nothing’ but a vibrant flashback of a life once lived… a night six years ago exactly.

[2481.07.08] 20:00

I smirked at him as I kicked my boots across the litter strewn ground, passing some weepy woman on her way out, and I approached him at the front door to his apartment behind the comic book store. “How’s things Mr Unfuckinghappy?”

He glanced down with the sudden realization that he still didn’t have a shirt on, “Apparently not as fuckin’ relaxin’ as I was hopin’ they’d be.”

I laughed, “Good look. So, who’s the chic you’ve got in tears on your doorstep?”

“Her. Who?” He asked, arching a brow, “OH! That’s just some droider I’m whorin’ out on the side for pocket change.”

I shrugged, “Well… now we’ve got the pleasantries out the way…” I surveyed the room absently, “Any listeners in here?”

He chuckled, “Does it really fuckin’ matter. If I got 'em, they’re mine.”

I smiled and my eyes narrowed, “Then, fancy telling me what that revelation by text was last night? I’m not fucking impressed… jesus… you could have just told me you had listeners in my office.”

“Actually they were belongin’ to Midge, and I was simply conferencin’ in on 'em. Ya know…friends tend to be sharin’ shit like that.”

“Fine.” I reached down to pull my socks up. I folded my arms across my chest again, “Incidentally… what exactly *did* you expect me to tell my brother when he asked me what the fuck you were doing in HQ?”

“Oh, I don’t fuckin’ know, maybe somethin’ along the lines of idle threats to keep your trigger happy underlin’s in line so they don’t go fuckin’ over our treaty…” He shrugged, “Somethin’ fuckin’ logical like that.”

“You are so contradictory… and totally fucking irrational.”

He hunched over to grab pick a shirt from a small pile of dirty laundry on the floor, “…and always fuckin’ right.”

I couldn’t resist checking out his ass as he reached for the shirt. I smirked to myself, “…you’re starting to sound like a woman.”

“Maybe, but 'least I can drive.” He said, he sniffed the shirt a couple of times before pulling it over his head.

I shook my head and frowned as I did so. “Right… you’re still fucking irrational.”

“An’ how’s that, exactly? …not like I was stompin’ up an’ down the streets screamin’ 'bout MY failures now.”

I replied sweetly, “…that temper of yours….” And then I lost my composure, “I’d just seen her BLOWN to fucking pieces Fifth, tell me what the fuck I was supposed to do?”

He brushed past me with a nudge so he could lean up against the table, “Remember that you’re the actin’ head of corporation, and it’d probably be better to be not go losin’ yours…”

I stumbled in my heels as he nudged me, “Acting head? Right… right… NO. I’m just leading the investigation, Fifth. I’m not acting fucking anything.”

He looked around the room with a wave of his arm for emphasis, “Funny, I don’t see no one fuckin’ else 'ere. YOU ARE the highest rankin’ officer on the streets, Julz. YOU ARE the actin’ 'head by default. If you go 'round losin’ your head metaphorically…or physically…the rest of them are just gonna flail 'round without meanin’ or purpose.”

I stared at my feet as I kicked a heel against my opposite toe, “I’m doing my best, Fifth.” I said quietly.

He continued on with his point anyway, “..and then some fool will pop off a few 'rounds at a gloatin’ IPS officer, and all this pretty independance will come crashin’ down with a rubber fuckin’ stamp from the UBC.”

I bit my lip as I considerd his theory, “I said I’m doing my best. I’ve done everything you asked…”

He leaned forward in a whisper, “Your best needs to get better. It don’t matter if it’s the worst day of your fuckin’ life…To everyone else, it needs to be bein’ your best. Unshakable, always in control.”

He changed the subject, “Christ, I sobbed like a lil fuckin’ bitch when I 'eard the news…” He pushed his glasses down the brim of his nose, “Do my eyes look red to you?”

I locked my eyes on his, I shrugged. My voice came out as a whisper, “I’ve not had time to cry.”

“Good, 'cause that means no one saw ya doin’ it.”

I chewed the corner of my lip again, “I can’t be my best until I let go.” I stated flatly.

“Then you find a fuckin’ closet, a hole in the ground, a toilet and you let the fuck go…just be comin’ out lookin’ right as rain when you’re down.” He sighed, “In happier times, if ya ain’t laughin’, lovin’, flirtin’ or cryin’…they’re gonna call you a fuckin’ robot. But in a crisis, if you’re showin’ 'em those things…they’re gonna call ya weak. It takes a leader to be shuttin’ 'emselves off for the sake of others.”

I winced, “What if I am fucking weak? You’ve said it yourself, I’m just a fucking kid.”

“Then two thangs are gonna fuckin’ happen. One, you’re gonna die…” He said, ticking it off with a finger, “Two, West is gonna fall.” He shook his head, “But neither one of 'em thangs are gonna be happenin’. Keng wouldn’t have tapped ya for this if she didn’t see somethin’ in ya worth tappin’.”

I swallowed hard against the sob rising in my throat. My eyes glistened, giving me away instantly. “I.. I guess so…”

“YOU GUESS?!”

“Please… fucks sake… don’t shout at me anymore.” I stumbled back a step.

He glared at me, “I don’t want to fuckin’ 'ear I GUESS. I want to 'ear I KNOW…and I damn well want to be believin’ it!”

“FOR FUCKS SAKE, FIFTH. WILL YOU LET ME FUCKING… JUST… JUST FUCKING DO THIS.” I lowered my voice, “I can do it… fucks sake, I’m trying to do it.”

He jumped up as if he were going to suddenly lunge at me, but instead he turned toward the door. I shrieked as he lunged and quickly brough a hand up to my mouth to muffle the noise.

He grumbled, “…you’ve got some fuckin’ cryin’ to do.”

“Oh, fuck you.” I replied meekly.

He threw a middle finger up over his shoulder, “…and ya ain’t to be comin’ out 'till it’s all fuckin’ out. Lock the door behind ya, whenever the hell that actually happens.”

“Wait… Fifth…” I stopped to compose myself again mid-sentence. “…if no one else is seeing, I’m not fucking sitting here whilst my world falls apart… on my own…. I’ll just go home.”

“Your world already came crashin’ down, Julz. Best be gettin’ used to the new one.” He said, and then he turned around to look at me one last time before he steped out and sealed the door.

I screeched, “YOU FUCKING BASTARD…. FUCK YOU…” I slumped against the table with my head in my hands.

I pushed myself away from the desk and launched a few kicks at the door before sliding to the floor. “I fucking hate you… you fucking prick…” I muttered before the tears begin to stream down my face. I smashed the back of my head into the metallic door and finally, the long, heart wrenching sobs found their way out as she sat in a crumpled heap on the floor.

He slumped into the lawn chair just outside. With a heavy sigh, he reached for an old magazine littering the ground and he settled in for a long wait.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, I stood and faced the door pounding it with my small fists before giving in and resting my forehead against the shutter. I kicked it once. “I WANT TO GO HOME, YOU BASTARD… JUST LET ME GO HOME.”

“…sounds like you got 'nother few hours in there, at least.” He called out through the closed door, as he thumbed through the loose pages to find the centerfold. “Well 'ello Miss Septober.”

“IT’S NOT FUCKING FAIR… JESUS… I’LL… FUCKING… I’LL PUT A CALL OUT AND THEY’LL COME AND GET ME…”

“THEN DO IT!” He snapped back.

I stormed over to the table and viciously swept everything off of it with one hand. “I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I FUCKING HATE YOU.” I threw myself to the floor by the wall and wrapped my arms around my knees. “… I fucking… want her back… jesus…” The sobs wracked my small frame as I was crunched up against the wall.

“I know…” was all he could really say.

I cried, “fucking god… I can’t do this shit without her… it’s all my fault….” I rested my forehead on my knees and tried to catch my breath. I grabbed a glass from the floor where I’d cleared the desk and launched it viciously across the room, watching it smash on the far wall, “IT’S ALL MY FUCKING FAULT.” I screamed again.

He muttered under his breath, “Yeah, I’ll be chargin’ 'er for whatever the fuck that was.”

I sniffed loudly and slumped against the wall. I wiped my wrist across my face and stared blankly, the tears still fell and my breaths were too fast. I whispered quietly, “I…. I… I didn’t mean fo… for this to happen… it’s all my fucking fault…” and then I shouted, “Please, Fifth… I’m fine, please… I’m okay.”

“Know how I know you ain’t ready to be comin’ out of there yet? he asked, flipping to the next page.

I sniffed again, “How…?” I scrabbled round on the floor for something to throw at the door but found nothing so leant back against the wall. I closed my eyes.

“…'cause ya ain’t realized that I never locked the fuckin’ door.”

I leapt up to my feet and ran to try the door. “FUCK. YOU.” I screamed as I tried to open it. Daylight shone in from the street and the faint neon glow of the city. I glared at him for a fraction of a second before I raised my hand, “fuck you.” I whispered as I started to swing my arm to slap him.

He swept his leg out from under the chair towards my ankle “…need I fuckin’ say more?”

I didn’t see his leg move and I hit the deck as his boot made contact with my foot, “… you’ve been waiting for me to fall on my ass this WHOLE time?” I hissed, then I sniffed and wiped my eyes as I looks up at him.

He kept his eyes on the magazine article, “You’re lettin’ your emotions cloud your fuckin’ judgement, Julz. If ya ain’t level headed, ya overlook the obvious…like the door bein’ unlocked…or your legs flyin’ over your head ..back inside.”

I didn’t move, “Make me.” I stated as I wiped my wrist across my face again.

He peeked up over the edge of the magazine, “I could, I don’t have to. You’re on your ass, in filth…lookin’ like ya just got raped…all because you were too emotionally unstable to think clearly. You’ll save some dignity by simply standin’ up…walkin’ back in…and shuttin’ the door without 'nother word.”

I huffed loudly as I stood and walked purposefully back into the apartment. I stomped around looking around, my heels clacking loudly on the floor as I did so. I sniffled some more. I sighed, “Seriously… you don’t have a fucking mirror in here?”

“…have you seen me?”

I grumbled and sniffed, “You need a woman… to do something in here… It’s… an interesting place…” I kicked through the discarded stuff from the table. I leant against it and expertly ran my forefingers under my lashes to catch the mascara that was halfway down my face.

He chuckled, “Had one. Trust me, weren’t worth it.”

I raised each leg in turn and pulled my scrunched up socks back up over my knees and up my thighs. I looked around as I did so, “…she’s clearly not been around in a while…”

“Yep. Neglected 'er into submission then split.”

I shook my head. I stood tall and smoothed my hair down. I straightened out my tie and rebuttoned my cuffs. “Hmmmm…” I tugged at my skirt to straighten it. “… you got any cigarettes?” I raised my voice a little so he could hear.

He rolled the already abused magazine up tightly, “Don’t smoke.” He said, flinging it out of the small alley and into the street.

I shrugged and walked towards the open door. I stepped into the alley looking a whole lot more together. I stopped in front of him. “I don’t think I was ever meant to wear all this… corporate gear.”

He smirked, “Yeah, 'cause six inch mini-skirts are such a fuckin’ hassle.”

I rolled my eyes. I bent at the waist and adjusted the buckles on my shoes before slowly straightening up. “… like you’re really complaining.” I ran my fingers under my eyes again one last time.

“Not if I’m lookin’ for a cheap piece of ass, no…I wouldn’t be.”

“CHEAP P… Cheap piece of ass? I’m not fucking cheap.” I stopped shouting almost immediately and looked over my shoulder into the street.

He hunched forward over his knees and craned his head awkwardly to sneak a peek up her skirt, “…if I can see it without payin’ nothin’, it’s fuckin’ cheap.”

I crossed my legs immediately and tugged my skirt down, “Fucks sake, Fifth!!”

He chuckled as he slowly righted himself, “There ain’t no point in bein’ anythin’ but to the point, Julz. If your point ain’t to be gettin’ fucked, don’t be makin’ it look like your hard up for it.. Mini skirts are only good for gettin’ attention and easy access.”

I stuttered, “I errr… uhm… shut up, okay?” I turned to walk away before glancing back, “Before you made… THAT happen…. I needed to tell you something important.”

He sighed, “If it’s 'I’M SORRY’…save it.”

I turned back to face him, “Trust me when I tell you that you want to hear this.” she whispered.

“…out with it then.”

I shook my head, “In there..” I pointed at the apartment. “… I’m not saying anything about it out here. Five minutes and I’ll be out of your way.”

He tipped his head toward the door, standing. We wander back insider and I closed the door behind us, “Redux.”

He arched a brow in silence.

“I did a full system search. All databases, all files. Nothing came up… and yes, before you ask I cleared my search history.”

“Good.” He nodded, “That means she kept it off the books by maskin’ the fundin’ as other projects.”

I nodded, “I’ll go now… I… that was the only reason I interrupted your evening. Sorry… about your stuff…” I looked guiltily at the heap by the table.

“It’s just stuff, Julz…only stuff.”

“I smashed a glass… I can sort out some new ones for you…”

“Yeah, I heard…very distinctive fuckin’ sound.” He rolled his eyes with a short laugh. “What did I just say though? One of these days you’ll be listenin’ to me the first time 'round.”

I nodded, and opened the door stepping into the street, “Thanks… by the way.”

“…WHAT DID I JUST FUCKIN’ TELL YOU?!” He elbowed the door control “Women!”

[hysterialevi]

When the Devil Cries pt. 5

Author’s note: Some more moments between Arthur and Eddie in this part! Hope you enjoy :)

From Arthur’s POV

THE BASTILLE

Letting ourselves into the lazy saloon, Eddie and I made a beeline straight for the back as the same bartender greeted us, recognizing our faces while he cleaned the bar with a rag.

The saloon was still full of the same pretentious pricks from the last time I was here, and the further I made my way into the fancy building, the more their eyes seemed to be stuck on me and my sad attempt of putting together an outfit that was actually decent.

Heh, still looked better than them, though.

“Welcome back, Eddie!” The bartender exclaimed. “And you too, mister. What’ll it be for you folks today?”

The pianist slid some money across the surface. “Two beers, please.”

“Comin’ right up.” He reached under the bar and popped two caps off with a soft hiss, placing a pair of bottles in front of us as we enjoyed our drinks.

“Say, Mister Ryan,” the man continued, “how’s your work at the theater going?”

Eddie took a sip. “It’s going well, thankfully. At the moment, I’m preparing for a show.”

“That’s good.” The bartender tugged his head towards the saloon’s piano. “Y’know, if you’re ever lookin’ for more work, our pianist’s thinking of quittin’ his job soon. He’s planning to move out somewhere in the country. Wants a more...‘laid-back’ lifestyle, he said.”

I let out a boisterous laugh at that. “Hah! Laid-back...”

Eddie considered the offer. “If I ever find the time to do it, I’d certainly love to play here. Lord knows I could use the money.”

The bartender smiled. “Excellent. Well, I’ll leave you boys to your drinks. Have a fine day now, y’hear?”

“Thanks, mister,” Eddie replied. “You too.”

Turning to face me now that the man was gone, the young musician took a breath and barely opened his mouth to say somethin’ before someone else was calling out his name, interrupting us for a second time. Jesus. And people wondered why I weren’t much of a social butterfly.

“Eddie Ryan?” A woman asked. “Mister Ryan, is that you, darling?”

Peeking behind the boy’s figure to see who was talking to him, I spotted none other than Lillian Powell herself sitting in the same place as before, comfortable as always while makin’ sure the rest of the saloon wasn’t.

“Oh, Miss Powell,” Eddie greeted, clearly not particularly pleased to see her. “Starting the day off with a drink, eh?”

She let out a puff of smoke from her mouth. “Indeed. Same as you, evidently.” Lillian moved her gaze to me, her eyes narrowing. “And I see you brought the cowboy with you.”

Eddie glanced at me. “Oh, him? He’s just a friend of mine. We met recently.”

“Is that so?” She said with an...almost jealous expression. “Are you planning on taking him to the gala later this week?”

The young man quirked a brow, turning to me. “I don’t know. What do you think, Arthur? Would you like to come with me?”

Well, finding a way into that gala was certainly easier than I anticipated. I gave Eddie a nod.

“...Sure,” I answered with a shrug. “Why not?”

Lillian took a drag, huffing out another cloud. Though I couldn’t tell if the smoke comin’ out of her nose was due to the cigarette or annoyance.

“I suppose I’ll make an invitation for your friend, then. I look forward to seeing you there, Eddie. The gala will certainly be a night to remember with your piano-playing skills.”

The musician chuckled gently. “Thank you, Miss Powell. I look forward to attending.”

She smirked in a flirtatious manner. “You should, darling. It’s going to be quite the ball. There will be tons of people as well as music, drinks, and of course the chance of witnessing a drunken brawl. Mister Daniels and Robinson still aren’t over the fight they had at the last gala. I’m sure you remember that, yes?”

Eddie laughed at the memory. “How could I forget?”

Practically chugging the rest of his beer down in an attempt to escape the endless conversations, the pianist placed the empty bottle down and stood back from the bar, straightening his coat.

“Well, it was nice to see you again, Miss Powell,” he lied, “but I’m afraid I must get going. I’m on a...rather tight schedule today.”

“Oh, okay,” she said with a pout. “Take care of yourself, Eddie. Alright? Don’t stress yourself too much. I know how hard you work.”

Eddie sighed. “I wish I had the option. Anyways, good day, Lillian. I hope to bump into you at the gala. Until then, farewell.”

The boy brought his attention back to me with an expression on his face that screamed “help,” beckoning me out the saloon as I finished my own drink.

“Ready to go, Arthur?” He asked. I set down the bottle, walking next to him.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good,” he replied in a relieved tone. “Then let’s get going.”

Shoving me out of the Bastille, Eddie and I took a huge breath of fresh air the minute we stepped outside, both of us glad to be away from the grandiose atmosphere of the saloon. And also to distance ourselves from that wretched woman.

“You are quite the popular feller, ain’t you?” I joked.

“Sadly, yes,” he said. “But in Saint Denis, fame brings you money. And right now, I need it. Still, it was kind of you to join me for a drink...even if it did last for about two seconds. Will you be heading off now?”

I whistled for my horse, watching the streets as my companion steadily trotted her way towards me.

“Yeah. As you know, I ain’t really much for big cities, and...I’ve got a few things I need to take care of.”

“Ah, I see,” Eddie responded, sounding a tad disappointed. “Well, it was fun running into you again, Arthur. Sometimes it feels like you’re the only man not wearing a mask in this city.”

Oh, if only he knew.

Giving my horse a welcoming pat on the neck, I mounted the majestic creature and secured my feet in the stirrups before taking hold of the reins, admittedly somewhat sad to leave Eddie behind as I reminded myself I had a job to do.

Then again...it was still rather early in the morning, and I had already completed my task of finding a way inside the gala, which was more luck than skill, to be honest...but maybe there wasn’t any need to part ways just yet.

I glanced down at the lonely pianist, coming up with a last-minute idea.

“Y’know what, Eddie,” I proposed, “you’ve been showin’ me around Saint Denis these past couple o’ days. Why don’t I give you a peek of the world outside the city? Show you what else is out there.”

The boy looked up at me with a hint of hope in his big eyes.

“...You’d do that?”

I shrugged in a relaxed manner. “Sure. Everyone needs to get out once in a while, and I’ve spent enough time here, I think. Why don’t you come with me? Explore the country for a bit? We won’t be gone for long. Just enough to catch our breaths.”

Eddie was obviously excited, but displayed some hesitance.

“...I-I’d...love to.”

“Heh. Don’t be shy,” I reassured him, patting my horse. “She can be a little skittish ‘round strangers, but she’ll warm up to you soon enough. C’mon.”

I reached a firm hand out, helping Eddie onto the mount as he tried to get used to the height.

“You good?” I checked.

“Yeah...” he answered, his voice soft with uncertainty. I didn’t think Eddie realized he had wrapped his arms around my waist. But I didn’t mind.

“Alright,” I tightened my grip on the reins, “I’d suggest you hold on, then. This girl can go fast. Hyah!”

OUTSIDE SAINT DENIS

A WHILE LATER

Galloping as if there was no tomorrow, I bolted through the open fields hugging the city as Eddie held onto me for dear life, the force of the breeze ruffling his hair up a bit.

Out here, I felt so free. I didn’t have to endure the irritating chaos of Saint Denis’ coal-driven factories, greedy merchants, whistle-blowing lawmen, or the constant chatter of a thousand strangers.

Out here, it was just me...and Eddie. Ridin’ our way through endless miles of meadows and smooth hills as we glided towards the mountains towering in the distance. It made me feel so small -- so insignificant...and I loved every minute of it.

Snapping the reins out of excitement, I urged my horse to run faster as her heavy breath quickened and Eddie’s grasp strengthened around me, making me laugh on the inside. The boy certainly knew his way around the city -- I’d give him that -- but it looked like this was his first time ever settin’ foot into nature.

Well, I guessed it was my turn to show him the ropes, for once.

Sprinting across a small stream, I began heading for one of my favorite spots in this area as droplets of cool water splashed onto us, giving me a much-needed sense of refreshment. There wasn’t a single person in sight, and the only company we had at the moment was the dozens of different species scrambling through the untouched land, including groups of rabbits that would always scramble underneath me every once in a while.

I had to admit...I was enjoying myself with Eddie. It wasn’t too often that I got to travel with a friend like this, and it was even more rare that I actually had a friend in the first place.

But spending time with Eddie...it made me feel at peace. I never experienced the same sort of tension with him as I did when speaking to others -- even Dutch -- and it was always so exhilarating to be around him. He passed no judgements. Made no assumptions. Cared nothin’ for where I came from, or who I was. All that mattered to him...was what I did.

Taking a sharp turn into the woods, I led Eddie through a thick grove of trees as spots of sunlight danced on the dirt road beneath us, and leaves rained from the canopy of branches above. There were all sorts of insects and birds flyin’ along with us, and the further I rode, the more Eddie’s arms relaxed around me.

The boy no longer seemed tense or held back by fear. Instead, he looked just as content as I was and brought his gaze to the sky, unable to hide the blissful smile that shined on his face as he watched the deer prancing at our side.

I was...I was happy that I brought him out here. It had been so long since I had someone like this in my life, and I sure as hell didn’t expect to find another in Saint Denis.

At first glance, that city looked like nothing but a dreadful, cramped cesspit to me, and I remembered being annoyed at Dutch for makin’ me search through the place.

But after meeting a man such as Eddie, it only made me wonder what else Saint Denis was hiding beneath its surface. I always assumed it was the same as any other city, and had it pegged for a nest of corruption...but I guessed it weren’t all bad. Not if Eddie was there.

Finally reaching the spot I had been searching for, my horse suddenly slowed down to a halt once we found ourselves at a section of the Kansas River. We were surrounded by tall, beautiful trees, a seemingly never ending stretch of clear water, and the early sun hovered above us as its beams broke through the white clouds. To me, it was paradise.

“Here we are,” I announced, turning around to pat Eddie’s shoulder. “Ain’t it just the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen?”

The boy slowly gazed around in awe, his mouth dropping open with wonder as he took in the world around him. There was a look of inspiration in his emerald eyes, and the longer he stared at the view in front of him, the less he knew what to say.

“...Oh my...God...” he whispered. “I...I may never go back home.”

I chuckled lightly at his response, a little amazed myself at how gorgeous this place was. I had wasted so much time worrying and stressing and constantly thinking about the gang that...I forgot to just stop for a minute, and take a damn breath. It was...a nice change of pace.

“I come here a lot,” I explained. “It’s just...one of those places, y’know. Makes you feel separated from...the rest of the world. I like it here.”

Eddie agreed. “I can see why. I almost feel as if Saint Denis doesn’t even exist anymore. That city seems like it’s an eternity away now.”

Slipping my feet out of the stirrups, I turned around to face the pianist.

“Here,” I said, “lemme help you down.”

Preparing to hop off, my horse suddenly let out an alarmed neigh before I could do anything and began rearing wildly, causing both me and Eddie to tumble onto the ground as I rolled around in the dirt, whirling in confusion.

“What the--?” Eddie blurted out, somewhat dazed from what just happened. “What’s going on?”

A nearby growl answered the question for me.

Prowling towards us with a hungry glare in its eyes, a lone wolf stealthily approached me and Eddie, its paws just barely kissing the ground as if it were getting ready to jump. It didn’t look like there were any others around, and this one was still relatively far away.  I raised a calming hand, attempting to make sure neither the wolf nor Eddie made any sudden moves.

“...Whoa, there...” I warned, subtly reaching for my gun, “...easy, boy...”

The wolf continued to creep in my direction, showing no signs of leaving. The last thing I wanted to go trigger-happy in the middle of the wilderness where god-knows-what was roamin’ around, but I also didn’t wanna see my newest friend get eaten alive.

Whipping out my revolver, I fired a few warning shots just next to the beast and scared it off while Eddie stayed back.

“Go on!” I shouted. “Get! Leave us alone!”

The wolf instantly turned on its heel and let out a frightened whimper, scurrying away before it disappeared into the distant forests. I didn’t hear any other howls or see any signs of other beasts lurking in the area, and so far, no one seemed hurt.

I let out a sigh of relief, checking on Eddie.

“There it goes. You alright?”

The boy rose up from the gravelled ground, patting dirt off him.

“Yeah...I’m okay,” he confirmed, slightly shaken. “You look like you’ve dealt with your fair share of wolves before.”

I holstered my gun, scoffing. “Too many times. I had to save one of my idiot friends from an entire pack of ‘em once. Bastard got more than a few scars to remind him to stay the hell away. Just glad I could save you, too. Oh, and uh...sorry ‘bout the clothes.”

Eddie looked down at his stained coat, chuckling in amusement. “Yes, it seems every time we cross paths, I always end up covered in mud. No worries, though. At least they aren’t blood stains. Thank you, by the way. I’d probably be dead now if you hadn’t been here.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Walking over to my horse, I carefully approached the spooked animal before giving her a comforting rub on the neck, attempting to calm her nerves as she whinnied nervously.

“Shhh...” I whispered softly. “Easy, girl. You’re alright. There ain’t nothin’ can hurt you now. You’re okay.”

I reached into my satchel to feed her a quick snack, only to realize the accessory was missing from my person when my hand touched air.

I backed away from the horse, glancing around as I searched for the damned thing.

“The hell? Where’s my satchel? Agh...it must’ve dropped somewhere when we were bucked off.”

Eddie pointed to a bag on the ground along with a number of items scattered next to it and knelt down, closely examining them. They must’ve fallen out when the satchel’s flap came loose.

“Is this it?” He asked, taking an open book into his hands. “Here, let me...help...”

The boy’s voice faltered out of nowhere and he paused mid-sentence, causing me to cock my head in curiosity as he took a sudden interest in the book.

“...What is it?” I urged, throwing a casual glance in his direction, only to damn-near have a heart attack.

Eddie had found my journal.

...And he was now staring at the portrait I made of him.

Christ, out of all the drawings, it had to open on that page?

Slowly standing up from the ground, Eddie mindlessly continued to examine the quick sketch as his eyes nailed themselves to the drawing, his face covered with amazement.

“...Arthur...” he breathed out, “...did you...did you draw this?”

I waved a dismissive hand, trying to change the subject.

“Ah, it’s nothing. I just...make doodles sometimes. Of places I’ve been to, things I’ve seen...people I’ve met.”

Eddie chuckled in an impressed manner. “What do you mean, it’s nothing? Arthur, this is incredible. I had a feeling you were an artist, but I didn’t expect this. It looks...just like me.”

I scratched the back of my head, my cheeks startin’ to feel a bit heated. Oh, good lord-- was I actually blushin’ like some flustered adolescent? I couldn’t believe it. What a goddamned fool I was.

Clearing his throat, the boy hurriedly closed the journal when he noticed my awkward behavior and handed it back to me, averting his gaze out of embarrassment.

“Erm -- I’m sorry,” Eddie apologized. “I didn’t mean to be intrusive. It’s just, you have a lot of skill, and I’ve...well, I’ve never known anyone who could draw like that.”

Calming down slightly, I stared at the portrait for a moment before peering at the musician, biting my lip in thought.

“...You wanna keep it?” I offered. His expression lit up with gratitude.

“...Could I?”

“Sure,” I replied, carefully tearing the sheet out. “I can always make another.”

Eddie gently took the drawing into his grasp, holding it as if it would break at any moment.

“I...thank you, Arthur. I really appreciate this. I’ll keep it close, I promise.”

The young man slipped the piece of paper into his coat, making sure it was secure before giving me a little smirk.

“What?” I said, chuckling.

“Oh, nothing...” he teased. “I just knew you weren’t as rough as you acted. Though I suppose it’s good that you least know how to act in the first place. Many other people -- like myself -- are clueless in the wilderness. You must think me quite the city buffoon.”

I laughed with a shrug, leaning against a nearby tree.

“Well...that’s the thing,” I said. “You don’t have to act out here. This is all nature. There are no pretenses, no masks, no guessing. Just one rule: treat the Earth right, and she’ll treat you right back. Most o’ the time, anyway...”

Eddie gazed into the woods, looking at where the wolf from before ran off to.

“I can see why people say it’s dangerous now. We haven’t even been out here for an hour yet, and already we’ve been attacked by something.”

“It’s really not so bad,” I reassured, patting my holster, “so long as you know how to defend yourself.”

An idea struck me. “Um...do you?”

The boy shook his head. “I can throw a punch well enough, but...I’m useless with a gun.”

I pushed myself off the tree. “Well then, lemme show you how to use one. I’d sleep better knowing you could. But first, we’ll need somethin’ to aim at...”

Searching the place for a target, I suddenly remembered that I had some empty bottles of Guarma Rum in my saddlebag and began digging through the seemingly bottomless pit, fumbling for them before yanking them out.

“Here,” I presented. “These’ll do.”

Pacing around while Eddie watched me, I decided to put the bottles on a tall-enough boulder just by the water as I set them down next to each other, stepping backwards once they were in position.

I unholstered my gun, beckoning the other man to come closer to me.

“Alright,” I said, “I ain’t much of a teacher, but I’ll shoot one, show you what I know...and then we’ll see if you can hit the other. Sound good?”

Eddie gulped. “Sure...I guess. You’re the expert here.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.”

I aimed the revolver at one of the bottles. “Okay, so what you wanna do is...just make sure you got a firm grip on the gun, but don’t lock your arms. Keep your hands steady, align the sights with whatever it is you’re tryin’ to shoot, take a breath...and...” I fired the gun, instantly shattering the bottle into a pile of shards, “...shoot on the exhale. Got all that?”

The pianist still appeared a tad uneasy. “...I think so.”

“Good,” I handed the gun to him. “Now you try it.”

Hesitantly taking the revolver from me, Eddie gripped the weapon with both hands and took aim, his brows furrowed in concentration. I sauntered behind the boy, doing my best to guide him.

“Steady...” I reminded him. “And brace yourself. The recoil has more of a kick than you’d expect. Takes beginners by surprise sometimes, heh.”

Following my instructions, Eddie breathed in like I told him to and fired on the exhale, only to end up shooting the rock below the bottle.

“Okay...not too bad for a first try,” I encouraged. “Why don’t you give it another shot? See if you can hit the bottle.”

Pulling the hammer down, Eddie prepared another bullet and readied himself before pointing the gun once more, doing the same as he did before. The man seemed less afraid of the weapon this time, and the sense of uncertainty was gone from his determined stare.

Perhaps I’d make a gunslinger outta him yet.

“Alright...let’s try this again.”

I decided to give him a little more help on the second attempt and used my hands to position his own, pushing his arms out so they were extended farther.

“Try aiming a bit lower...” I suggested, gently holding him in place. I couldn’t deny that my heart was beating faster than before.

“Now, remember...relax. Don’t think too much about it. Just aim, breathe in, and...”

Eddie fired a second bullet with a thunderous bang, causing the bottle to blast into a dozen broken pieces. He gasped in surprise.

“Oh!” He exclaimed happily, his voice energized with disbelief. “I...I did it! I actually did it! I hit the bottle!”

I laughed along with him, proudly patting his back.

“See? You ain’t such a buffoon, after all.” I rested my elbow on his shoulder, giving him a wink. “Well...maybe a bit.”

Eddie tittered, returning the gun to me as he looked in my eyes. “Fair enough. Thank you, Arthur. I mean it. You’ve...you’ve shown me so much already within these past two days. I’m glad I met you.”

I smiled at him. “Me too. How’s about we get you back to Saint Denis first, pay a visit to the gunsmith...and buy you your very own weapon? You shouldn’t need it in the city, but it never hurts to be armed.”

He nodded in acceptance. “I’d like that. But...could we spend some more time out here first? The day is still young and, well, to be frank...I don’t want to go back.”

“The country’s growin’ on you, is it?”

Eddie grinned. “It might just be. Even with the wolves.”

“Ohh, don’t you worry. Saint Denis has plenty of its own wolves. They just ain’t as cute.”

“That’s true,” he agreed. “Just wish I could skin them as well.”

A chortle escaped me. “I knew I liked you for a reason. Now c’mon.” I mounted my horse, gesturing for Eddie to join me. “There’s still a lot for you to see out there. You ever been to the Elysian Pool?”

The musician grabbed my hand and lifted himself up, wrapping his arm around my waist again. “No, I don’t believe I have.”

I tapped my spurs into the horse’s side. “Well, you will have now. It’s just north of here. I think you’ll like that area. The people there ain’t the friendliest, but the waterfall is somethin’ to behold. Now, let’s get going.”

Breaking into a sprint, Eddie and I continued our journey across the vibrant land as the sun finally reached its peak in the sky, warming up the world below with a cozy embrace.

I honestly wasn’t expecting to be out here this long, and Dutch was probably wondering where I had gone by now, but the more time I spent with Eddie, the less I wanted to return to camp or Saint Denis.

Being with that boy was like shuttin’ the rest of the universe out, and at the moment, that was exactly what I needed. So much shit was always happening with the gang whether it involved the O’Driscolls, the Pinkertons, or just arguing within the camp. Barely anyone there could stand each other now, and even Dutch and Hosea seemed to be drifting apart.

I just...couldn’t stay there. It always left me in such a sour mood. Gave me this constant sense of anger -- even more so than usual.

It...it just felt nice to finally have someone I could relax with. Someone who wasn’t part of the mess that I called my family. Who hadn’t been damaged by the world yet.

I only hoped I could protect him.

After all, I was probably the least safe person to be around in these parts, considering all the people hunting me down...but I just couldn’t bring myself to push Eddie away. He was the best thing I’d found out here so far, and...I was actually starting to like him a bit too much. The same way I used to like Mary.

It was a foolish dream to pursue, I knew. Eddie deserved someone far better than me, and I wasn’t meant for a life like that.

Though, I also couldn’t deny the feeling of joy I experienced around him. Just seein’ his face alone was enough to wipe away my worries. ...He did that unlike anyone else I knew.

I supposed, for right now, I’d just flow along with it and see what happened. Our current relationship seemed harmless enough, and I certainly didn’t mind being friends with Eddie...but the minute Dutch finished robbing Saint Denis of all its money, I’d have to let him go. Whether I liked it or not.

It was the last thing I wanted, and I wished I could just stay with him, but I couldn’t put Eddie’s life in danger. Not like that. Being close to me was too much of a risk, and he didn’t deserve to live with that kind of fear.

He deserved happiness.

Something that I was, and would forever be incapable of giving.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #oc #fanfic #story