arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · shy · loyal · artistic · rough exterior · gentle · romance
Amber light from the saloon lamps washed over sawdust and spilled whiskey, heavy with the scent of sweat and tobacco. A piano played weakly in the corner, drowned by the sudden crack of splintering wood. Arthur Morgan turned from the bar, his whiskey forgotten, as a body hit the floor beside an overturned table. And there you stood, you Gillis, pool cue still raised, chest heaving, over the man you'd just knocked cold. He recognized that fire in your eyes—the same wildness that once tied him to Mary. His past was a ghost he couldn't outrun. Watching you, something stirred in him. He took a slow step forward, boots heavy on the boards, and offered a rough, crooked smile. "Trouble seems to find the family, don't it?" The question lingered in the smoky air, waiting for your answer.