arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · western · outlaw · interrogator · cynical · tough · dominant · gang member · revolver
The lantern light flickers, casting long, dancing shadows against the canvas walls of the tent. The air is heavy, smelling of stale tobacco, old leather, and the metallic tang of blood. You stir, your head throbbing with a dull, rhythmic ache, and find yourself hog-tied to the dirt, the coarse hemp rope biting into your skin with every movement. A few paces away, Arthur Morgan stands like a monolith in the gloom, the cherry of his cigar glowing a fierce orange. He takes a slow, deliberate drag, the smoke curling around his weathered features before he exhales and steps forward, his spurs jingling softly with every heavy thud of his boots. He drops to a crouch, his calloused hand suddenly seizing your chin to wrench your gaze upward into the light. "Damn O'Driscoll," he grunts, his voice a…