#redemn

[bllakcat]

' I AM TEACHING YOU TO RELY ON YOURSELF FELICIA. SO YOU CAN SURVIVE EVERYTHING THAT YOU COME ACROSS. ' : oh this voice, ━━━━ even this thief would give away every diamond, if it meant she could hear it again. but alas, IT IS ONLY THIS LESSON SHE CARRIES IN THE VAULT THAT IS HER HEART. &. having taken 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, &. she truly lives up to her reputation. arthur here, has made the unfortunate crossing of this black cat ... &. he truly has tasted trouble, casted by her! vigilantes competing, &. more often than not, it is the masked feline who pulls the strings : TAKES THE VICTORY! ( lucky her. ) ━━━━ so shouldn't it make moments like this strange? how comfortably they banter, despite the 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 that lurks everywhere she goes. that there are moments like this, where they take each other seriously.

@redemn : ❝ just remember , someone is on your side . someone else ain't. ❞

A HUFF ESCAPES LIPS DRESSED IN BLACK : she clearly finds amusement in the irony of the target of his words, ━━━━ ❝ oh, i know who's on my side. ❞ easy to keep a tab, when the list falls short. 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏, 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, there is something challenging in her approach, SILVERTONGUE HAS BREWED HER STRIKE. ❝ you should consider that yourself. ❞ she, if anyone knows greed : &. she can detect when some people take it too far.

#⋄ ⊰ all nine lives left. › undetermined verse. ❜ #redemn #yeah arthur you should really think about your own words *C OUGH*

[onlyappetites]

All  this  time  ,  taking  Arthur  under  his  wing  .  He  knows  the  look  .  The  youth  long  since  turned  man  he  adopted  as  his  own  ,  he  knows  him  well  .  He  sees  the  weight  he  is  trying  to  mask  ,  trying  to  hold  it  together  .  Perhaps  had  the  circumstance  been  different  he  would  have  respected  that  disregard  to  exposed  vulnerability  .  Not  this  time  .

Approaching  Arthur  ,  a  hand  to  each  shoulder  before�� Arthur  could  profess  and  feign  stability  . ❝   My  son  ,  my  boy  .  If ever there was a time to cry ? Now  is  the  time  to  for  it  .   ❞   He  aims  to  catch  Arthur's  eye  ,  knowing  the  wall  between  them  would  crumble  and  break   under  a  mere matter  of  words  .  @redemn usually stoic , though every man had his moments of vulnerability .

❝  Now  is  the  time  to  do  it  ,  my  son  .  Come  now  .  Don't hold back your anguish in shame . Ain't nothin' to be ashamed about .  ❞ He's  already  guiding  Arthur  to  his  tent  to  sit  with  him  .

#𓃮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 ★ / 𝐢𝐜 . #★ 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 . #redemn #left it open for you to decide how arthurs sorrow came to be but aaah this has been eating me since we disgust it

[silvertonguesilverdollar]

@redemn- Closed starter

Oh. This situation calls for a little flare~ Tired, weathered eyes light up, looking full of light, joy and life. Formerly a man brought down by age and sickness; Hosea is in his element. And oh is Arthur going to "love" this one.

'I just had a thought.' A shit-eating grin is fired towards Arthur. 'These folk are desperate for a little entertainment. And there is no way we're going to pull this stunt with so many eyes watching.' The house isn't quite a Manor but it's bigger than most humble abodes, with plenty of miserable hands working the horses and the grounds. 'What if...and hear me out before you start your complaining. What if we were two gentlemen,  looking to start up our own prizefighting business. We're looking to hire some burly looking fellas  to be our new fight champions.  To be considered they need to prove their grit. That's where you come in, Arthur.' Oh yes he is suggesting that Arthur tussles with a few of these labourers.

'While you're "testing" out the talent, I'll slip off and see if I can get us that horse we had our eye on.' A rare breed, sure to fetch a heap of cash. 'What do you think? Think you can handle a few overworked ranch hands?'

#ic #verse;main #sickness was fixing me some [main] #arthur morgan #redemn

[unboundtravels]

𝐼𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒?

Strange dreams have been had, recently. Lights in your mind, swaying across the darkness of your mind. A blazing heat licks at your mind's insides, before flash freezing into a bone-chilling freeze. Akin to spontaneous combustion, immediately counteracted by the sensation of being submerged deep under an icy river— swept away under the current. The ice above you prevents you from escaping before you're pulled deep beneath the current. At first, you were on fire— your body alight and your skin boiling. Now, you're pulled beneath the depths of an icy crypt, with weights dragging you further down into the crushing depths. All the while, you remain blind, the lights in your mind flashing brighter and brighter. Everlong. 

Finally, you awake from your dream with a sudden start. At the counter of a bar you barely remember stumbling into, you're able to see down the bottle of foul-smelling alcoholic beverage. The sun peaks in through the windows, warm and hot. The ground outside the saloon doors is dusty, and sandy. Moments before you can even contemplate how the hell you got to New Austin, a hand swipes away the barely filled bottle of beer. The bartender before you seems absent, but the words he speaks feel like they barely come out of his mouth. More as if the sounds he makes just travel to your ear, an illusion you trick yourself into thinking is all in your head. 

"Let me get you another, fella." As if he barely recognized that you were asleep at the bar. Were you asleep? Or did you just get here? Have you been here all night? Or did you wander in minutes ago? Did you submerge into the realm of unconsciousness? Or did you simply lose focus? The sounds around you, the song playing at the piano. A man's fingers wander against the keys, but he's been playing the same few notes in succession. It sounds like a song, and everyone treats it like a song, but is it a song? Or have you just fallen out of tempo with it? A woman moves across the saloon, a tray of beer in her hand that never seems to have less than two glasses, even when she gives one to a patron in the bar— she's briefly obscured for but a moment and one glass turns back into two.

Five men sit at a nearby table, playing poker. Meanwhile, two men seem to share a conversation that never ends. The bar seems like it never progresses a single second in time. It's always just as it always is, nothing more and nothing less. Your eyes finally return to the glass bottle. There's condensation on the glass, but it remains undisturbed. Even as your hand wraps around it, the droplets don't even tremble. However, something about it calls to you, in more than just the normal way that such a vice would. The aroma of what had previously been foul seems more hypnotic, like a scent creeping into your mind. You've been holding the beer bottle for about a minute and a half now—

BANG. The bartender breaks the bottle cap off of the beer bottle, filling your empty hand. A phantom sensation flees your palm before the glass fills it again. Are you even aware of what just happened? Do you even question it? Do you even know what to question? You're not spiraling. You know you can't be. Just take a drink. It won't be too bad, the aroma creeps back into your mind. The bar suddenly gets extremely loud. People are talking, but words don't slip from their mouths. They swirl around you, but they simply just play inside of your ear. They're always just in the back of your ear, but never surrounding you. Never in front of you. Just take a drink. 

Just take a drink—

A hand covers the top of the beer bottle. A piece of purple cloth wrapped around the top of the bottle. Eyes trail over to a man in a navy coat. It's seen better days, stitching at the seams has come loose. Heavy bags weigh down tired blue eyes. Silver hair is messy, almost bed-headed. A brown waistcoat is buttoned over a white shirt and a patterned tie rests underneath a collar. The man seems out of place, wearing boots that are laced up and cut just an inch below the knee, with dark green pants tucked into the boots. He speaks, and it seems to break the mode of what the cowboy's already been subjected too. Sound comes out of his mouth precisely where it should be, and functions exactly as you'd expect: Normally.

"Don't drink that." 

He's English.

@redemn

#!!!. {in character | ic} #ivb {the scarf doctor: time war} #redemn #//Literally thought about this starter ALL day. #//HAVE FUN HOPE YOU ENJOY #//LMK WHAT YOU THINK.

[cultfic]

⎯ @redemn, arthur morgan : “ i just wanna be done. i’m tired. i’m so tired. ”

❝  yes, arthur. you're tired. ⎯ you're disappointed. you're displeased, you're despondent ..  ❞ the list would stretch for so long he fears not even he would have enough vocavbulary to cover the list of complaints repeatedly submitted by one he values most of all. but morgan's insistent criticizing of his methods has become yet another burden to bear, added to his own sleep deprivation and the still recent, burning loss of his partner that he's tried so hard to cast from troubled mind. and yet that he keeps returning to.

❝  we're all tired. and i'm all outta ideas. now, i hear a lotta grievances but not a lotta solutions.  ❞ it's always come down to dutch van der linde to find an escape from ordeals faced over the years, but perhaps he's finally running out of them; or hosea took them all with him when he went. cigar is brought to dried lips and the man takes a long, meaningful drag of tobacco, points a finger in the other's direction. ❝  you wanna be done, you find a way out of this putrid, godforsaken backcountry or you go out there and collect more money because complainin' about somethin ain't never amounted to anything beneficial.  ❞

#ch. writings: dutch van der linde #redemn #lmfao this is equal parts hilarious and heart-breaking to me 🖤

[mediumhonor]

john has been watching arthur in his periphery all night, has heard the wet barks of his cough across shady belle. he'd thought of excuses to approach him, ranging from hunting to patrolling to trying to wrangle him to whatever shitty saloon the townspeople of annesburg frequent.

he does none of that. instead, he brings his flask, a hunting knife, and an orange he'd stolen from dutch's tent that he doesn't doubt micah had brought to him, brown-nosing lying bastard that he is, to win the favor he knows is his to keep.

arthur's never liked being interrupted while journaling, and john's never quite cared about interrupting arthur during anything, and so he sits down beside him at the big tree he's sat against. the smell of citrus hits the air when he cuts into it and offers arthur a slice.

"we can thank good ol' dutch for this daily bread," john says with his mouth full, wiping the juice that'd dribbled out on his cheeks. he leans back against the tree beside arthur, feels like a kid again, trying desperately to at least be accepted in his space, let alone impress him.

"you ever gonna show me any of that stuff you draw in there or what? you've always acted mighty mysterious about that damn thing."

@redemn

#REDEMN #REDEMN01. #you didn't ask for this but. chapter 6 pain here we GO

[afterdeaths]

— 「 RE: @redemn .

THERE'S A CREEP OF A smile on the man's lips, hidden in half shadow as he grabs the beer from the bar and takes a swig. the night had been winding down for a while now, the moon creeping up into the sky and the woman behind the counter starting to yawn. yet here they were, SETTLED deep into conversation, an amused look hiding the quietness in rian's eyes.

❝ y'know, i dueled with death once. ❞

there was no HARM in telling him this, not when he was so CLOSE to taking his hand, anyhow. maybe not tonight, but very soon. he would show up when arthur last expected it, softly tell him, 'it's time to go'. but right now ? hazel eyes are dancing.

❝ they're a terrible shot. missed by a damn mile. ❞

#redemn #「 ʟɪғᴇ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ━ rian. ( ic ) #「 ʀɪᴀɴ / ᴠᴇʀsᴇ: ɪ. ━ ( charon )

[colecassiidy]

@redemn

"Arthur Morgan," he drawls, low, like he ain't actin' out some melodrama, "I know we ain't seen eye-to-eye when it comes to the law, but I never thought I'd see the day."

#Redemn #v;outlaw in the new west #Shooting the shit{crack}; #SHJFAHFKF NO PRESSURE TO RESPOND KAT BUT WHY'S UR BOOP EVIL--

[blcsscdson]

arthur passes the paper he's holding over to jack .   it's a smudged drawing of a sleeping lion ,   and was clearly drawn a while ago .    ❝    you like lions ,   jack ?   got a chance t'meet one few years back .   they're real fierce .   protect themselves with everything they got ,   but  …  think they'd protect their family with everything too .   reminded me'a you .    ❞

Jack blinks a few times before taking the offered paper. He takes one long, good look and in what may as well be the first time in years, he smiles. He'd almost forgotten how good of an artist Arthur was. True, John Marston had drawn in Arthur's old journal but his drawings weren't quite up to par with what Arthur had drawn before. It wasn't John's fault, not many could draw like that.

However, Arthur's next words pique Jack's interest. "When and how did you run into a lion, Uncle Arthur?! They're not native to the area... A bear? Sure. Wolves, coyotes, even cougars but not lions!" Oh, Jack knew all about the local fauna surrounding Beecher's Hope, he still had the scars on his face from that time a bear dug its claws into him and his Pa had to save his ass, that'd been a strange day.

"I... Thanks, Uncle Arthur." Jack manages a shy 'thank you' gesture before carefully folding the drawing and adding it to his own journal. "I ain't never seen a lion before. I've read about them, sure but I ain't seen one. The one in your drawin' looks big. How big was it when you drew this?"

#redemn #˖ ✦ ⋄ . REMEMBER MY FAMILY ❝ 1914 ❞ #˖ ✦ ⋄ . I'M JOHN MARSTON'S KID! ❝ IC ❞ #ASK #ANSWERED

[onlyappetites]

@redemn insisted : arthur : [ stands at dutch's tent and looks at him funny for a good 10 straight seconds ]

𓃮 _ 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐭𝐞𝐝 / 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

❝    GROW  UP !   ❞

#𓃮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 ★ / 𝐢𝐜 . #★ 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 . #redemn #thats a manic man your honor #he goes from 0 - 100 so fast iogtjirt #his npc era #arthur dont even look at him for more than 3 seconds that's a threat

[loyalpromise]

❛ you look like you got somethin' to say . ❜ - for abigail !

          she’s  frustrated.  beyond  it,  really,  but  also  tired.  very,  very  tired.

          and  with  a  fussy  toddler  that  somehow  managed  to  catch  a  cold  and  had  been  extra  clingy  ever  since,  the  frustration  and  tiredness  had  no  end  in  sight.  and  it  didn’t  help  that  john  was  as  distant  as  ever.  there  was  only  so  much  she could  do.

          arthur  had  clocked  her  and  she  could  feel  the  embarrassment  spread  throughout  her  body.  the  desperation  had  a  stronger  hold  on  her,  however,  and  it  was  the  only  reason  why,  upon  being  called  out  for  watching  him  for  too  long,  she  found  herself  saying,  “ arthur,  i—i  really  hate  to  ask,  but—do  ya  think  you  could  maybe  find  some  medicine  for  jack ? ”

          then,  quickly,  before  he  could  attempt  to  protest,  she  added,  “ i’m  sorry,  i  really  am,  but—well,  you  know  the  boy’s  father’s  useless.  i  couldn’t  even  convince  him  to  jump  in  the  river  if  he  was  on  fire. ”

          a  brief  pause  followed  before  she  meekly,  in  one  final  ditch  effort,  asked,  “ please…? ”

#she always hates having to ask him for help but she can't go to john so she doesn't know what to do dlfja;sd #redemn #ask prompt. #[ unwavering love. ] abigail m. / interaction. #[ unwavering love. ] abigail m. / answered.

[wolfvirago]

he's taking his wild chances with this one .   he thinks she'll like this drawing a great deal ,   which is why he'd tried a bit more on this one than he usually does when he's not giving much time for it .    ❝    here ,    ❞    he says ,   passing the sketch of the wolf toward her .    ❝    it ain't perfect ,   but i thought y'might appreciate it more'n i do .   you can keep it .    ❞

unprompted asks [always accepting]

Wild blue eyes glitter, scanning over every pencil stroke that had gone into creating the image. It wasn't the most detailed, but each line had proper placement for the swift motions of fur.

Her own sketchbook sits in her satchel, but she would wait a little before asking Arthur to look over her designs.

"You did a really good job!" Eagerly, the girl beams, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight for just a moment, before she places the paper gently inside her journal... Wanting to keep it safe.

"I'll hang onto it as long as I can. You have to tell me all about how you drew it... Where did you see the wolf? Was it big? What color was it?"

@redemn

#redemn #;ic #v; protector (default) #;letters delivered (asks) #save tag #she's gonna keep it forever and draw him something in return :3

[shinemade]

Here she was once again, Emerald Ranch. Picking up supplies for her latest batch. Usually, she'd have with one of her employees to fetch them and be on their merry way but today was different, today was on her own and the one who did their last estimates for produce seemed to screw up the order she picking up. Martha ordered several batches of apples for her to make her latest batch, but they came up short and only gave her about half of that amount. She hated doing this part of her job too, to say the least, especially with complications like this but it needed to be done. She'd just have to bear it for now and come back for the rest when she could.

Martha tries to load up some crates in the back of her wagon and she manages to get a few in there without much trouble but after the fifth or sixth once she feels her grip slip from grabbing it at an awkward angle, the apples tumbling out of the crate and falling on the ground around her. “Goddammit!” The red-headed woman yells out in frustration before she puts the emptied crate aside to start picking up the produce. “Just my damn luck,” the woman cursed to herself. “Got no hands to help, got only half of what I paid for, this is just fantastic!” she says sarcastically under her breath.

She’s so in her head with her frustrations that she doesn’t see the man approaching until he’s almost a few feet in front of her. She lifts her head, slowly looking up at @redemn before standing up herself with some of the loose fruits in her arms, “Ya need somethin’, mister?”

#redemn #-- me writing this a billion years later but hi omg

[padredeem]

@redemn semi plotted starter

"Are you gonna take much more time makin' those eggs? I wanna cook some too, y'know."

#redemn #v: we're more ghosts than people (rdr2)