quastari
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QUASTARI // indie private multifandom multimuse
featuring BARRETT TORBON ; a fandomless bear-shifter original character
obsessed with the dichotomy of barrett "i had to kill my own brother because he couldn't control his animal instincts and i live in fear of the same thing happening to me only nobody would be around to stop me from killing innocent people" torbon and barrett torbon who has an insatiable sweet tooth for honey and wants to be close to people but can't trust himself to be and yearns to have people he can protect and rely on.
arthur's never . . . well, talking to women has never been a strong point of his. nor speaking in general, apart from little jabs that only serve to raise hackles & start brawls. a STRANGE shortcoming from a man raised by dutch van der linde & hosea matthews - two men whom arthur swears are hiding silver tongues behind smirking lips.
his head lowers as hope moves past him, now addressing her pretty little mare in an echoed tease of his own words. a snort comes from him, head wobbling in DISBELIEF, before turning to follow her to where their horses are hitched.
❝ if we keep good time, should be there in just a couple weeks, ❞ arthur says as he starts rummaging through a saddlebag. ❝ ridin' all day, stayin' in small towns where no bounty hunters might not think to look. might even have to ROUGH it some nights. ❞
a lantern is pulled from the leather pouch, which arthur flicks on to push away the nighttime blackness. the firelight, kept low & soft, dances across arthur's face to show his DEEP scowl. brows pulled tight together above a sharp, scrutinizing blue gaze. jaw clenched beneath a thick cover of facial hair that arthur didn't bother to clean up before taking this job.
❝ that okay with you, princess ? ❞
her approach is slow , reluctant - but not for the reasons he may think . what arthur perceives as the expectant steps of an eager bride might as well be a death march to miss baxter - & yet , she still does her best to offer him a friendly smile at the conclusion of her approach . this is usually what is expected of her , of course , to be nothing but docile & demure . a mask she's grown comfortable hiding behind , one that she 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 will make a good first impression . they will be traveling together for a long while , after all - she would like to set a positive tone for the journey ahead .
those desires are quickly dashed . her lips & heart both drop as he takes that warning step forward , sky blue eyes widening & chin lifting while attempting to approximate where to meet his gaze draped in shadow . despite his 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 frame & no-nonsense attitude , she does not wilt in response , choosing to hold her ground in spite of the way her heart picks up its tempo as his words sink in .
she knows all of this already , her father may not have afforded her all of the details - but she has been informed of the 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕 things . he had been reluctant to send her off with someone with mr . morgan's infamous reputation , but they had been left with little choice & no time to be all that picky about it . anyway , a ruthless protector is exactly what she needs in the face of those who wish to harm her .
arthur doesn't surprise hope at all in his initial assessment of who she might be , it's what she's used to & she makes no attempt to argue - 𝑯𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 , there is a small displeased furrow to her dark brows before she responds .
❝ he told me enough , ❞ her voice is light & distant , switching up tactics placing a wall of aloofness between them . to his conditions , she gives a small dutiful nod , features 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 with a curt , ❝ fine . ❞ she moves past his imposing form , choosing to focus on unhitching her horse's reins & offering some gentle affection to the animal before they take off . as if addressing her trusted mare rather than arthur , she continues with a new & lightly indignant edge to her tone ❝ - we'll be sure to keep the frolicking to a minimum , won't we girl ? ❞
how long will this be cute? when i can no longer blame it on my youth.
mayven abel — multi-everything original character
mature and triggering themes present on this blog, novella and para style writing, heavily plot based
penned by cash. 25+
est. 2012
JOEL MILLER // THE LAST OF US
made some gifs for the first time! might make more for fun :)
bonus // grey, long haired joel <3
arthur spots her instantly.
he doesn't move to intercept her. not yet. with an indigo sky bleeding into a WANING deep orange & gold lights that twinkle around & around, arthur takes just a moment to watch hope. he so rarely gets to see her - only a handful of days out of the year. even then, it's maybe just a couple hours where she isn't running around or laughing or cheering. seeing hope stroll casually about, with nothing to do but wait for him, was a nice change of pace.
but soon, as always, arthur finds himself moving to be in her vicinity. pushing off the metal barrier & stalking through the crowd towards her. making sure her back stays facing him. arthur can't help himself - a smile tugs on his lips. anticipation of seeing her up close, mixed with a TWISTED amusement, nearly gives him away because he almost wants to laugh.
she stops. he stops. her head turns slightly to the left & then the right - looking for him, arthur realizes. it makes him take two long strides closer to her, coming within arms reach of hope. by now, he's grinning. bounces on his toes once. LEANS closer to her. from anyone else's point of view, arthur might seem like some sort of creep.
the fun is quickly overridden by his desire. he takes another step closer, right behind her shoulder. leans in close to her ear. the sweet smell of her threatens to strangle him but arthur doesn't need to speak so loudly where he stands so he's CONTENT to let it.
❝ lookin' for someone ? ❞
𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 ( accepting ! )
@quastari said : meet me at our spot tonight . ( from modern arthur )
❝ i'll be right there , mama - just gotta 𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑪𝑲 on somethin' real fast . . . ❞
prepping for the annual brightside county fair is quite an event in the baxter household , akin to holidays like christmas or thanksgiving . everyone wakes up early , everyone pitches in . even little sister faith , who is begrudgingly back home from college for the summer , is involved - albeit her help is accompanied with several complaints & an above-it-all roll of her eyes . hope's father is packing up the stand they use every year , loading its aged & well-loved wooden components into the back of the family's red pickup truck for the short journey to their small town's fairgrounds . ardella is transporting boxes upon boxes of sweet treats , breads , preserves , wildflower honey , fresh produce , chicken eggs , flowers from the garden . . . a 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒍 spread of the rich bounties their farm has to offer , lovingly cultivated to be shared with their community . this tradition is one of hope's very favorite times of year , a time of togetherness & nostalgia under the hot tennessee sun .
so much has changed over the past few years . she has finally opened up her own bakery , in brooklyn no less . a few years ago she wouldn't have even thought it possible . she'd been burnt out , drowning between waitressing gigs , her shitty ex boyfriend , & culinary school . but every obstacle has been 𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 , now hope & christina are left to reap the profits from what they have laboriously sowed . at last , hope baxter has found some breathing room , & her chosen reward for all of that hard work is a trip back home just in time to soak up the southern farming town charm she's been missing in the big city . things are simpler here , quieter . it's nice to know that even when everything else in her life is nothing like what it used to be . . .
. . . there are 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 things that never change .
hope slips away from the kitchen , just for a moment - as promised . she has been keeping an eye on her phone all day for this very reason . & finally seeing arthur's name pop up on the screen fills her with 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑻𝑯 . like any other part of these yearly festivities , she can always count on their little rendezvous , & he's never once let her down . unlike so many others . . .
[ text : arthur 🐴❤️ ] i'll be there ; )
she replies quickly with a giddy grin , stuffing the phone into her back pocket & getting right back to business . it's clear to the whole family as she strides across the front lawn with more crates in her arms , that something has 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 a newfound skip in her step , although none of them knows why . a girl has to have her secrets , after all .
before she knows it , the sun is setting on the first of the three days during which the fair is held . everything goes as successfully as ever . in high demand , the baxter's goods sell out in record time . thankfully there is always plenty more . ardella is a smart woman & well-seasoned at this by now . they have the routine all down to a 𝑺𝑪𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 , & with damien taking charge to keep everything on track , things couldn't go smoother . the height of their sales typically peak on the very first day , so hope is given the go ahead to drift off & explore on her own . the remaining two days are hers to do as she pleases .
she makes a beeline toward the carousel - their spot - only pausing briefly to make sure she looks presentable in one of the funhouse mirrors along the way . sunshine yellow blouse , blue jean shorts , & her dark curls pulled up high into a ponytail tied with a ribbon . . . all slightly 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅 to make her look all stretched out , but it gives her a good enough idea . quietly she wishes she'd worn something a bit more adventurous , maybe that sundress she'd packed specifically to drive him crazy .
she'll just have to save 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 for when she's cheering him on at the rodeo tomorrow .
pleased with her appearance , hope makes her way over to the ride - the spinning lights reflecting like 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 in her eyes as she approaches . the sky is just beginning to darken , still streaked with the shades of sunset blue , pink , & orange . it's only a matter of time now , but she tries not to look around too much . she doesn't want to seem overly excited , even if her heart is already fluttering in her chest with anticipation .
i want a ‘you’ve been dating my brother, but he clearly doesn’t appreciate you, so ive come to save the day even though i’m entirely sure i’d be worse for you’ kind of plot.
the concern was SLOW to melt away - as shown with the taut brow & clenched jaw that remained on joel's face. even when faced with tommy's reassurance - & tommy's presence - there's still the instinct to run & fight & kill.
still, his brother's FOND scolding is enough to rein joel in, his head shaking lightly while his eyes move to inspect the infected tommy had put down.
❝ startin' to seem that way, ❞ joel replies, tone TIGHT & tense. now that the adrenaline was starting to die down, it was easier to think straight. ❝ could be a horde comin' through. ❞
"You worry too much," Tommy scolds him, although his words lack any real bite. Instead there's an underlying warmth -- a subtle hint of fondness that he's thankful to have Joel's support. They didn't part on good terms all those years ago so to have Joel back in his life means everything.
His jean jacket is covered in dirty and grime, notably a fresh splatter of blood. The blood shines a brilliant scarlet under the hot summer sun. Tommy uses the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow before offering a proper reply. "Killed a stalker that was hiding under a dead runner. I'm starting to think there's more infected here than what it seems."
a smirk pulls on joel's lips at her response - of course, he didn't believe a word of what she said. hope asking for sugar was like joel asking to borrow a tool. such a clear & BLATANT excuse that's so easily debunked but warms joel's face all the same.
❝ well, i reckon we can SCROUNGE somethin' together for ya. ❞
subconsciously, joel leans his hand against the doorframe while the other comes to rest on his hip. while hope's unexpected arrival was definitely welcome ( he's so glad sarah's at school ), it means he didn't have much of a chance to pick up the house a bit. there's too much evidence laying around the house of joel's ARDUOUS work hours & sarah's soccer team hanging out after practice.
he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. ❝ you, uh - ya need it right now ? ❞
𝒃𝒈𝟑 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 ( accepting ! )
@quastari said : ❝ let me guess - you need something . ❞ from pre outbreak joel
❝ 𝒖𝒉 . . . ❞
even from where she hovers behind his screen door , her caught-red-handed sheepish smile can be easily detected . mischief 𝑺𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑳𝑬𝑺 within her blue sky gaze , hinting at an ulterior motive joel has already astutely picked up on .
❝ would you believe me if i said i came over to borrow a cup of sugar ? ❞ is her deceptively innocent reply .
of course , we all know that baker extraordinaire hope baxter would never be caught with any less than 3 full bags of sugar stored within her perpetually well stocked pantry . it seems she's come to visit his residence seeking another kind of 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 - should he be receptive . they haven't exactly labeled whatever they are to each other just yet , it's all still so new & delicate .
❝ just lookin' for a little 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑵 𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀 , that's all . ❞
pedro as reed richards making me wanna create a verse where older jack is the head of statesman hhrrmmmmm
♡ for some memes or perhaps a starter
@ohsunshine asked :❝ throws stick you seem to be in a sticky situation. ❞ / from ellie for joel
❝ ain't helpin', ellie. ❞
of course, joel's DESIRE to tag along on ellie's patrol had to blow up in his face. it was supposed to be an easy route - something where ellie can learn the ropes & joel could breathe a little easier. but jackson had been hit with so much rain these past weeks. it was inevitable one of the paths was going to give out.
& of course, it was the little wooden bridge that couldn't HANDLE joel's weight.
joel stands, swatting mud of his jeans with a sigh. ❝ save your puns for that dina girl, yeah ? ❞
for years now, shooting a gun has been as simple as breathing. like his weapons were apart of him - taking them away akin to amputation. his reflexive response of ' just shoot ' DIES on his tongue when arthur glances sideways to hope. notes how her eyes, turning almost purple under the setting sun, stay glued on the weapon she's holding. barely daring to breathe for fear of doing it wrong.
arthur's hand releases the barrel of the revolver, a fingertip tapping the sights just above the hammer. ❝ line these up with your target, ❞ he instructs. ❝ both ends. at this distance, you don't gotta worry about the bullet goin' low. just make sure you're shootin' straight. ❞
a few silent heartbeats stretch as he allows hope to make adjustments. he doesn't chime in. doesn't attempt to CORRECT her. knows she won't learn unless she makes a mistake & understands why. but it's damn tempting - especially since his hand still covers her. the hard line of his chest pressing against her shoulder. feeling like he needs an excuse to stay so close to her.
he doesn't have one, so he pulls away.
❝ & always fire on empty lungs, ❞ arthur finishes, his voice deep & only slightly above a whisper. not wanting to speak louder & break her focus. brows pulled together, muscles taut as he waits for the loud clap of hope pulling the trigger.
while arthur did pull away, he keeps a hand hovering over the spot between her shoulder blades. ready to connect & keep her from stumbling if need be. firing a shot during the HEAT of the moment was very different from a calm, quiet moment in the forest. arthur has to make sure to keep his focus on the lesson, however - the heat he feels radiating from her spine is almost enough to break it.
hands drop to her sides in anxious preparation , ready to follow his instruction - they open & close a few times , simply because it feels like something one ought to do before handling such a weapon . she is so focused on being appropriately 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 , that she doesn't really consider how arthur intends to go about teaching her until she feels his warm calloused touch .
as much as hope tries to hide it , she stiffens in response , like a prey animal deciding whether it is safer to bolt or remain frozen in place . she holds her breath , listening diligently , delicate fingers closing carefully around the handle & adjusting to his instruction . despite her nerves & the 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕 rising to her cheeks due to their proximity , she can't help but feel a bit more at ease with his rumbling low voice at her back & the even-keeled steadiness of his movements .
then he mentions killing & her heart picks up its pace once more . while the idea of taking another's life is instinctively abhorrent to her , she also realizes that it is a 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑮𝑬 she's never had to cross that threshold of irreversible moral compromise .
she still knows very little about mr. morgan , but has picked up enough about him to know he entered the life of an outlaw at an extremely formative age . from what she understands , it's all he's ever known . she has no room to judge him for doing what is necessary to 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆 , so she doesn't .
his grasp completely encompassing her own , she is similarly struck by their difference in size . he truly towers over her , her slight frame fitting against his broad one in a way that makes her weak in the knees . grappling with herself to 𝑭𝑶𝑪𝑼𝑺 on the task at hand , the squeeze he gives recaptures her attention & she copies the gesture attentively .
❝ woah , ❞ brows rise into her fringe as he demonstrates how secure her grip has become , a small 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅 smile tugging at the corner of her lips . it makes her feel . . . strong . ❝ okay , i think i got it . what next ? ❞
surprise flickers over arthur's face immediately, attention shooting back over in time to watch the way hope's eyes expand. her fingertips brushing over plush, pink lips as if it would help REIN in what she just said. but it was in the air now - hanging in much the way cigar smoke does. heavy, thick, intrusive.
arthur blinks once, twice, shifting in his seat on the third. he had an inkling about how hope might've felt about this whole thing - he ain't like dutch, but arthur's come to know miss hope baxter a little by now. knows when she's being truthful & when she's trying to spare his feelings. when she's genuine or teasing.
❝ so you don't wanna marry this guy, ❞ arthur says bluntly. reinforcing what she just admitted by mistake. not allowing it to be shuffled under the rug in a way hope will want to do.
he spins the whiskey in his glass, mouth tight & jaw set. a small temptation rises in arthur's gut to point out that, CONTRARY to her question about doing anything else with his life, he ain't the one being pushed into a marriage. he had the freedom to marry for love, if love ever found him.
( it did. long ago. & it was these same damn expectations that kept her from him. )
arthur lets out a long, IMPATIENT sigh. ❝ if you don't wanna get married, then don't ! what - daddy won't be happy ? seems to me you should put 'urself first. ❞
❝ -- no ! ❞ hope lets out a small half-hearted laugh compulsively , to match his energy more than anything else . she continues , ❝ i mean , not unless you wanted to be somethin' 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚 . ❞ she tilts her head to the side in evaluation of his reaction , brows furrowing together . it surprises her how quickly he dismisses the idea that he might ever have been anything else in life . he's smart , much smarter than he gives himself any credit for anyway . he's got plenty of skills applicable to careers outside of gunslinging & playing muscle for the van der linde gang . she's seen it . . . but he really doesn't , does he ? that thought weighs down her sweet smile - noticeably drooping into a pout .
as he surveys the room , hope takes the opportunity to briefly study his features - she notes his scars , the lines around his eyes , their color . she wonders what those eyes have seen ; she wonders how they see 𝑯𝑬𝑹 .
as arthur refocuses , leaning in that little bit closer , she draws in a quick sharp breath - gaze flickering toward his lips for a single beat . while she tries to keep her expression neutral , kicking herself internally for being so easily 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 - she can't hide the flush that blooms across her freckles like wildflowers .
her attention successfully captured , she listens to what he says intently - heart dropping to & shattering on the filthy floor . it takes her a moment to process it all , first the briefly flippant description of his parents , then . . . 'even worse man than me . . .' that admission alone floors her into momentary silence , a rarity for her & an 𝑰𝑴𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑽𝑬 feat on arthur's part.
before she can come up with something 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 apologetic to say , he has already moved onto his question - further throwing her off .
❝ i . . . me ? ❞ she blinks up at him , still recalibrating from the sheer mental whiplash . her sufficiently inebriated mind struggling to keep up . ❝ uh . . . hm ,❞ she scrambles blindly for something , 𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 to say - & so the truth spills out with an incredulous giggle . ❝ well i wouldn't be getting married , that's for sure . . . ❞ the moment she hears herself azure eyes blow wide , lips flatting into a thin line , fingers pressing loosely to her lips in shock .
❝ - i don't know why i said that , ❞ maybe the drinks were a 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 after all . . .
the silence has always put arthur just a little on edge. it holds TROUBLE more than peace, in his experience. a man with a knife hiding behind a corner. a cougar gliding through the shadows. the rare times where dutch is speechless or hosea has got no more tricks up his sleeves.
being alone with a bride-to-be.
arthur unbuckles his gun belt, offering a short grunt to hope's reply as he sets old leather & cool iron down on the table. he plans on spending much of the next few hours cleaning his weapons while hope sleeps. maybe seeking some rest of his own in the rickety wooden chair until she wakes & continue their journey in the morning.
she speaks up again. his grip tightens on his revolver when it's pulled from its holster.
❝ upset me ? ❞ arthur repeats incredulously. a snort edges his tone. AMUSED that this girl thinks she has such sway over his feelings. arthur just gives a short shake of his head. ❝ ma'am, i promise, you'll know when i am upset. ❞
though, he stops himself from teasing her further. he's seen where she comes from. how her father speaks to her. mary had much the same reactions to his scowling face.
❝ ... you've done nothing worth upsetting, miss. ❞
with her attempt to lighten the growing apprehension in the room falling 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐓 , she shrinks further into herself . at another time she wouldn't have hesitated to counter his jab with one of her own - but she's grown far too exhausted from the day's events to come up with any cleverly indignant responses worth throwing his way. besides , there is 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 she could possibly say that could change how he must see her: spoiled , privileged , ingenuous , sheltered , frivolous . . . & the worst part is - he's right .
by all logic it shouldn't bother her so much , what arthur thinks . her father paid him to get her from point a to b safely. that should be the extent of their relationship, 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 . he gets his payment & she takes on the newest role expected of her - beautiful blushing bride-to-be . her family's future will be secured , everything has been carefully arranged for her . it should unfold neatly , 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚 .
so why does she still feel so uneasy ?
why does his patronizing only make her want to try harder ?
letting out her own sigh, the tiniest air of 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓 slipping through her best attempts to mask it , ❝ okay . if y'say we're safer here , i trust you . ❞ silence follows , it would be awkward if the tension weren't thick enough to chew . hope tries to let things 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓 , to stop poking the bear - but the question turns over & over in her mind until she can't take it any more .
❝ did i . . . do something to upset you ? ❞
❝ pleasure, ❞ thomas replies easily. the initial SHOCK of seeing hope had begun to wane, so it was a little easier to relax & loosen up & remember his cover. there was still a worm of worry in the back of his mind - encountering someone who knew the real will riker so well & may very well see through his facade. ❝ stopping by for a visit while awaiting transport to risa. ❞
the explanation tumbled out in an easy, practiced way. thomas brings his drink up to take a sip. lets his gaze sweep the patrons. repositions his feet as he leans against the bar. ANYTHING to distract himself from truly meeting hope's eyes.
maybe then she won't be able to read him. maybe then he can make himself FORGET how she used to look at the real will riker.
❝ you know doctor crusher - show the slightest signs of stress & she drags you on the transporter pad herself for leave. ❞
hope almost turns on her heel to high-tailed it back out of quark's the moment she catches sight of those 𝑭𝑹𝑼𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑳𝒀 recognizable broad shoulders . lulled into the security of her predictable routine here on the station - as predictable as it gets on deep space nine , anyway . . . will's presence is enough to jolt her right out of auto-pilot .
surely he would have had the forethought to let her know he was visiting . . . or wouldn't he ? it's not like she lays any more claim to the place than anyone else , but it is 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 now , & he knows that . as they say , curiosity kills the cat .
so , she finds herself floating over to get the 𝑨𝑾𝑲𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑫 part over with - & perhaps to stick her freckled nose into why he would be here SO suddenly , with no warning . ( not that he owes her a warning or anything , but admittedly it would have been nice . ) she doesn't miss the way his brows furrow slightly . . . surely , he should have expected this encounter - right ?
𝒖𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 , her racing thoughts all melt away when he smiles , & it's like meeting him on the enterprise for the first time all over again .
❝ well enough i suppose , ❞ the corners of her lips lift naturally , her voice carrying the 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑻𝑯 of familiarity . she continues with a light chuckle , ❝ & as you've read , very busy . . . speaking of - what brings you all the way out here , stranger ? ❞
with his mouth in a tight line, arthur's head turns away to look straight ahead. hers is not an unfamiliar sentiment - one that's been mostly BEATEN out of arthur some time ago, but still there somewhere. still huddled inside the shell of a killer & a thief.
❝ ain't no shame in lookin' for the GOOD in the world. ❞
his words are low, as if arthur were sharing a secret. the next moment, he's waving his hand up & shouting for the attention of the barkeep. ❝ lemme buy you somethin', ❞ he says, giving maeve a sideways glance. ❝ seems like you need something to get your mind off things. what'll you have ? ❞
reputations are everything, maeve isn't blind to that. she hides behind whichever one suits her best - those who label her as just a gentle, sweet woman. those who notice cleverness, that underestimate it all the same. everyone seems to be painted by so many artists... it's almost hard to keep track of which whispers come from where.
like seeing in the dark, it's often a matter of gut && experience.
her time with bobby was far from kind, far from gentle. but that doesn't mean she wants to let herself become used to the bad over the good.
"I just worry once I let myself always expect the bad, I'm setting myself up for that being how I see the world forever." and at that point, it becomes only surviving, not living. maeve can't help the part of her that is sure it's risk the danger to herself to simply... try to keep seeing at least some good. "I learn my lessons, I just don't want to forget there's a world outside of those bad moments. which probably sounds silly."
the glow of his cigarette is the only real way to tell that arthur morgan was there at all. he leans against the thick trunk of an oak tree, which shields him from the moonlight that's bathed miss baxter during her goodbye. it makes her dress nearly as PALE as her skin - almost white, in fact. as if she were already in her fancy wedding gown. the careful steps to meet him like the walk down the aisle.
he forces that thought from his mind as she approaches him. pulls on his cigarette again, making the end glow like a tiny wildfire. ❝ alright, then, ❞ arthur says, pushing off the tree with a sigh.
but he doesn't approach the horses. not yet.
with a thumb hanging from his gun belt, arthur instead steps closer to hope baxter. eyes utterly UNSEEN under the darkness of his hat. nothing but a dark silhouette as he takes a moment to properly size her up. arthur's met her kind before - polite & put together on the surface. maybe even kind. but utterly innocent & ignorant.
❝ i dunno what your daddy told you 'bout me, but lets get a few things straight - you do everything i tell you. no questions. no backchat. i ain't a couch driver, ma'am ... i KILL people. an' your daddy hired me to kill anyone who might wanna take you. so please, do bear that in mind whenever you wanna go frolicking or whatever it is you like to do. ❞
𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 @quastari !
it was decided they should head out before the crack of dawn , utilizing the cover of 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 to slip out of town unnoticed . there had been a brief introduction to her hired guide , arthur morgan , but her father had done most of the talking then . she'd offered a polite smile & nod , but not much else , unsure what the social norms in this situation are - if anything about this could be considered 'normal' .
❝ please be careful , ❞ is the last request damien baxter makes of his beloved daughter before she departs , his hands squeezing both of hers tightly - 𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑻𝑨𝑵𝑻 to let her go . they had scarcely been apart since her mother's death , & even less so since her sister had run off - all they have left is each other . it shows in the way they embrace , holding tight for a good long moment . he presses a kiss to the crown of her head before sending her off .
❝ i'll be okay , promise , ❞ her smile is 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆 , but her eyes are sad .
with goodbyes concluded , there is nothing left to do but mount her horse - whom she's staunchly refused to part with for even these few short weeks . she's only packed the bare minimum for the journey , or as close as she is able to get . had hope been another woman of her stature she might have dreaded , even 𝑳𝑶𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑫 the prospect of roughing it like this - but she finds herself actually looking forward to the simplicity of it all . despite going to these great lengths in the interest of her safety , she is actually quite happy to have some time away from the pressures & constraints of her typical life . the whole affair feels like a breath of fresh air , the last one it seems she'll ever breathe . hope intends to savor it .
after a final wave & one last look toward 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 , she turns toward arthur . ❝ i'm ready . ❞
❝ you got happy egg money ? ❞
despite his SNARKY response, stan leans over to pick up a carton. it was the brand he always used to roll his eyes at, believing only a sucker would cop out the extra few bucks for them. stan's tempted to put them back & try to convince mabel to choose a different kind.
her eyes BEAM at him from over the side of the carton. the eggs go into the cart with a groan.
❝ these 'cakes better blow me away, kid. ❞
mabel hardly notices the stares, she's far too caught up in her own technicolor little world - one where REAL eggs are an absolute necessity! ❝ c'mon grunkle stan, i wanna give great uncle ford the complete authentic mabelcakes experience - a chance of eggshells in every bite ! ❞ she's joking - mostly .
hopping off her grunkle-powered chariot to inspect the options, she lands on a carton which boasts of free-roam pastures, heartier yolks . . . & a heftier price tag than the rest. ❝ can we get this kind ? please ? ❞ she points excitedly to the idyllic images on the packaging, ❝ look how happy these chickens are, that means happy eggs, happy mabelcakes, happy everyone.❞
the girl beams up at stan with an earnesty that would seem questionable coming from any other kid - but this is mabel pines , wholeheartedly wanting to go the extra mile for the people she cares about most. how could he say no to that ?
he shakes his head, chest still lightly heaving under the rush of adrenaline. in just a couple short strides, joel passes by hope to stand between her & the runner banging on the other side of door. getting here just in time to lock the bastard up was a streak of LUCK hasn't slipped by joel.
❝ didn't have time to look for much of anythin', ❞ joel replies in a tight, graveled tone.
joel slowly turns, his gaze hard & troubled when they reach hope's. ❝ that was a STUPID goddamn thing you just did. what woulda happened if i didn't get here in time ? ❞
❝ yeah . . . 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒉 - 'm okay . ❞
her heart still pounds wildly in her chest , matching pace with the 𝑭𝑳𝑼𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹 of hummingbird wings . weapon is still raised in active defense , the shot infected lying crumpled at her feet . she looks over to joel - her shoulders falling in relief at his presence , a sighed breath leaving panting lips .
❝ scared the hell out of me , though , ❞ hope adds , pushing back her fringe which sticks to the 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒕 drenched surface of her forehead . ❝ find anythin' useful ? ❞
❝ it was a bear, alright. hungry one at that, ❞ is barrett's rumbled reply. with the shelving now upright, he could make out faint scours of claw marks etching the metal. tufts of fur sticking out of crooks in the corners. but aside from all the physical signs, the room simply REEKED of the creature.
an adult male. black bear, maybe. stinking lightly of garbage when it went scavenging for a meal. he was only here for ten minutes, if that. gone for a couple hours.
barrett's brow twitches when he inspects the cabinets. unlike daniil, a stab of SYMPATHY hit him in his gut. hunger was something barrett understood very well.
❝ why so much morphine, doc ? ❞ barrett casually rumbles out as he approaches the broken vials of the drug.
"The state of a bear isn't my foremost concern," Daniil shoots back, carefully sweeping away the glass shards from his shattered equipment. True to form, all he can think about is the money wasted—some of the broken instruments had come directly from the last days of Thanatica.
Barrett's help is appreciated, but he's not the sort of person who would understand the terrible miasma of frustration and apathetic concession Daniil can't help but feel, looking at the minor carnage in his lab. It feels, in the moment, like he lives a doomed life—all progress will inevitably and invariably be halted by some outside force that wishes him and his research to meet its swift end.
An ill twist of fate; he'd call it that, if he believed in fate. As it stands, Daniil knows he's only unlucky.
"But if you are indeed right about the perpetrator being a bear, it almost definitely got into the morphine," a downward quirk of the lip as further antsy frustration pulls at him, "and the fentanyl, judging by the state of my cabinets. Even half of what I was storing would be lethal for a human, and it'll be about as costly to replace as an arm and a leg."
If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment, I would do it all over again.
Joel Miller in THE LAST OF US PART II (2020)