#RDR2 Cicero

[cicero-the-assassin]

@cajunspoons

Continued from here.

While her initial assumptions were that Cicero had simply been planning on crashing in the hay of the barn for the night, Segolene by now was well aware that his presence in town was far from wholesome. Still, the fact he was in perfect viewing range from her bedroom window, in the middle of the night, completely unannounced somehow missed her recognition.

She was just happy to not be alone in her own thoughts.

Loose dirt and dry leaves skittered across the dirt yard between the two buildings as Segolene stepped off the back step, pausing long enough for both his voice and the flicker of match light to confirm Cicero’s identity. She sighed in relief, and a smile spread across her face, though it was nearly impossible to see in the growing dark.

Another round of thunder rolled through the clouds, and Segolene had to pause her approach as a gust of wind whipped her clothes and hair about her small frame. Once she was sure she wouldn’t simply fly away, she closed the rest of the distance between them.

She plucked the cigarette from his mouth and popped the end into her own, taking a long drag before answering him.

“Storm’s comin’,” she said softly, accent thick as smoke curled from her lips. It wasn’t really an explanation, but that seemed to be all she would give him. She didn’t like to admit when she was in pain.

“Didn’t know you was here.”

She returned his cigarette to him as she rose up on her bare toes to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“You lookin’ for a bed?”

The hat almost flew from his head when an angry wind blew past them. She didn't agree, nor disagree with his assumption he notices, but ultimately does not push.

And when she takes his cigarette from his mouth, he takes the opportunity to pin his hat down in place on his head. Indeed she was right, there was something afoul on the air. And though he had a room at the local sort of inn/boarding house, he still found himself restless in the night. A bed?

"Mmm. Haven't been here long." A lie that she'd recognize if she'd notice the pile of his ends on the ground near the barn. Then again, it was so dark out he'd not even recognize her were it not for her voice and the soft glow of his smoke near her face.

The kiss in unexpected, but welcomed. He leans forward towards her hand to take his own breath of smoke. Letting her hold it for him.

"Truth be told Miss Segolene- I have a bed waiting for me back at the 'inn'. Sometimes I just be a wanderin' creature on nights like these. However-" He grins widely, "-if yer-uh sayin' you're offering one for me, then perhaps I'd rest easier knowing that you were nearby. Safety in numbers and all that."

[milkmeats]

Arthur Morgan practice n' Spot meeting my favorite jester, because I said so.

[ursaspecter]

For a long time Skyrim was my favorite game. While I was still playing it that is. Once I did everything there was to do, I just stopped playing. I could've spent time maxing out every skill and do endless minor quests, but the grind would have gotten old really fast. I haven't picked up the game in years because it doesn't have any replay value to me. There's not much else I could do differently in subsequent playthroughs other than different character builds and joining the other side in the civil war, but nothing else changes.

The characters are bland and feel like set pieces and stage dressing rather than actual people with lived history. Except for a small handful of characters, they're all pretty forgetful. And even with the characters that do stand out to me like Cicero, Astrid, Aela, Brynjolf, and Paarthurnax, the player character never really forms a bond with anyone. Even the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes are wooden and void of personality.

The most boring character of all though would be the player character-the Dragonborn. I know that the intent is to make them a blank slate for the player to project onto or make a character out of them, but the roleplaying in Skyrim is honestly incredibly lackluster. A lot of the time you're given the option to be mean, awkward, or nice in conversations and sometimes it feels like what you say doesn't matter at all. You can even go through the entire Dark Brotherhood questline saying absolutely nothing and it's ultimately unchanged. You just get different dialog from the targets you're about to kill anyway.

Ironically what really makes the Dragonborn boring is that they're too important. They're the Dragonborn: the ultimate dragon slayer. They absorb the souls of dragons and use their power for themself. But they're also the linchpin to the civil war and whichever side they choose to join is just enough to tip the scales in their favor to win. And they're also thane of every hold. And leader of the Companions and get to be a werewolf. And guildmaster for the Thieve's Guild and a servant of Nocturne as a Nightingale. And also the leader of the Dark Brotherhood and the assassin of the literal Emperor of Tamriel. Oh but also they get to be the Archmage of the College of Winterhold after saving the world again. Oh and also they get super cool weapons from the Daedric Princes after completing quests for them. All these special things keep happening to the Dragonborn, but when everything special happens, it's not special anymore. There's nothing to tie them back down to earth.

The quests I remember most fondly are the ones that really have nothing to do with the major questlines. I remember running across Sindig one night and helping him out because he was nice. I helped him get rid of the ring of Hircine and find him a little spot where he could live in peace. Yes it was a Daedric Prince quest, but it was more about helping Sindig than helping Hircine. The other quest I thought was neat was when I got into a drinking contest with someone else in the bar and woke up the next morning with no memory of the events the night before. The quest was just going around piecing together what happened and it was great! If only Skyrim had more of that, I would want to play it again.

And that's why I'm so thrilled to have found a game such as Red Dead Redemption 2. It might be a bit unfair to compare the two considering there's about 7 years between the two releases, and RDR2 is 20 times the size of Skyrim just by space requirements alone.

But more importantly, Arthur Morgan isn't this all important savior figure. He's just some guy. He's not particularly special other than he has a $5000 price on his head for his crimes. He has history with the other people in camp. He has his own personality, thoughts, and opinions and even butts heads with the others in the gang including their leader and his adoptive father figure, Dutch. He feels real. He feels lived in.

RDR2 doesn't have him campaigning for office in each state or join as many gangs as he can to become the leader because it's just not needed. Instead outside of the main story, he's just helping out every day people and bounty hunting. These colorful characters that also have their own lives. That have actual personality and don't just speak in MCU sarcasm all the time. Albert Mason, Margaret, Deborah MacGuiness, Charles Chatenay, Professor Bell, Marko Dragic, and so many more that I could mention. Even if I don't remember their names, I still remember their missions. I can't say the same for the side quests in Skyrim.

Even the companions in RDR2 feel so much more alive to me than in Skyrim. If Lydia or any of my other housecarls get lost or die in Skyrim, I'm more annoyed and frustrated than anything. In RDR2, when Sean died, I fully mourned him. And again with Kieran. And Hosea. And Lenny. They were written so well and with such care that they mattered to me. When Tilly was kidnapped and Susan grabbed Arthur to go with her to rescue her, I felt that urgency as if she were my own sister. When Jack was kidnapped, I felt the stress and confusion everyone else was feeling especially after barely getting over Sean's death. Skyrim doesn't give you the time or the option to forge those bonds with the NPCs.

A while ago I read a comment on a video essay about Heavy Rain that went something like, "To make a character's misery more effective, it's important to show when they are joyful." I think the same principle can apply to RPG protagonists. To make a character's significance more effective, it's important to show their mundane life as well.

I'm not even done with my first playthrough of RDR2 yet as of writing this, and I'm looking forward to when I get to do my second playthrough. And my third, fourth, fifth, and so on ad infinitum.

TL;DR Friendship with Skyrim over. Red Dead Redemption 2 is my new best friend

[tossball-stick]

its crazy how many of my previous interests have just been enveloped by cowboys. it feels like every game i was into, besides like valve, rdr2 overshadows in every way.

overwatch? i mostly liked it because the characters were generic archetypes i could project onto and make my own. rdr has that but with more depth. theres still more meat to chew on but theres also still plenty of space for you to write in your own details. its honestly apalling. cole cassidy vs arthur morgan is just hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby and somehow coughing baby is coming out on top. spit on that man arthur give him tb make him feel like a reeeeal cowboy

borderlands? at least 90% of my interest in borderlands was because of jack and i wont even kid you it all stems from him. but now ive got an even more interesting lying backstabber whos abusive to his kids. dutch is literally just better to me in every possible way. i still think jack is fun but dutch is just....... better. it feels like literally everyones relationship with dutch is on the level of complexity of jack and tim or jack and angel. hell id argue some of them are even more complex than the most interesting one in borderlands, whatever you think that may be. rdr2 is also somehow more anticapitalist and antifascist haha

every time i wanna play a bethesda rpg its just in my head how racist it is. how it coos at you if you wanna side with fascism and racism, tells you that "mm well. this isnt _good_ but you should have the freedom of choice!!" like. sorry i cant play skyrim anymore i start thinking about how this series jerks off genocide at every turn and hollowly says we dont think its bad. but youre never allowed to see the oppressed's perspective. even if you choose to play as an argonian or khajiit you dont even experience fuckin racism man. at least in rdr2 i can look at the pepple who idolize micah n dutch and go "are you stupid?" because the game literally in no uncertain terms tells you these are bad bad bad people. the game tells you time and time again that everything, war, death, colonization, illness, starvation, is awful. it constantly points at all of this, it HAS to show you just how awful the victorian united states were because it was BAD. and it doesnt shy away from this. and then you have skyrim where every great historical figure in it is constantly jerked off for genociding millions of elves or beast races. there are so many stories about religious oppression but how am i supppsed to care when literally everyone is fine with wiping out entire races of people. the elder scrolls isnt nearly as humanizing as rdr2. in rdr2 you can really feel for some of the characters who have shitty biases and awful morals because one of the core messages of rdr2 is how everyone is human. everyone is a living human person with relationships and feelings and thoughts and death is bad. death is really really bad it fucks you up!!! so you can see these characters and sympathize with them, to a degree. even with the ones you actively want dead, it feels. human. the hatred of micah in me is so vitriolic because of how much death hes caused. i only value his life so little because of how little he values life as a whole, his own and other peoples. you want to kill the bigots because they hurt people. meanwhile in skyrim youre told to kill the bandits and youre not allowed to even think about what their lives couldve been like. theyre just bad guys. no other reason. and when there is another reason it doesnt matter. you slaughter them all the same. UGH sorry mgmmhkgkfngndn ive really stopped liking tes recently. cicero is still my babygirl but like. im prolly just gonna steal the dark brotherhood at this point and stick them in something else i cant do this. a lot of this applies to most fallout games too btw. new vegas excluded sorry that im basic but its made me actually feel things for the characters i talk to. its great at humanizing people. oh also rdr2s open world is infinitely better than anything bethesdas put out ever. im sorry its just literally flat out better

idk im trying to think of other games i used to like but theres not a lot others i can directly look at in comparison to rdr2 and say "well. the cowboys game provides everything i like from this one and more. theres no point anymore"

[cicero-the-assassin]

“Come on. Let’s get it wrapped up.”

"He killed me! That piece of shit KILLED ME!"

Lucio was shrieking to the high heavens, though more out of anger than pain. Despite the bleeding wound in his torso. He spits into the dirt as Raserei wrangles him down and convinces him to let him look at it. Bandage it. If Lucio was so worried about dying- then why was he pacing around and thrashing like a mad man? Resulting in more blood loss, perhaps he was just that pissed off that some 'civvy' managed to sneak up and shank him.

Likely for the bounty, but they apparently didn't remember that he came into town with the giant now coddling him. Lucio's screams and rage were always audible to Ras apparently. As he had come running. As he always did.

"Ras- Ras-" He whimpers though it's obvious that it isn't because he was 'dying' yet or running out of energy. Just being dramatic, as is the norm.

"Don't let me die babe- but if I do- tear that motherfucker apart with your hands and drink his blood or somethin'! Somethin' cool. Send my heart to Miss Segolene in a box. I promised her she could have it when I expired."

For the rest of the evening, all that could be heard was whining and moaning. Lamenting his passing although, perhaps to Raserei's chagrin, he was indeed very much still alive; for now.

[cicero-the-assassin]

❣

Send me a ❣ and I'll gauge my character's attraction to yours at this point in time

"How's about you and me go and harass the giant? He's had it far too easy for far too long."

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧ | Sexual Attraction ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ | Romantic Attraction ✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Crushing ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ | Squishing ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ | Sensual Attraction ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ | Aesthetic Attraction

[cicero-the-assassin]

Continued from here.

@cajunspoons

Segolene didn’t make for much of a blockade, even with her arms stretched out on each side. She needed to talk to Lucio. Urgently. But she was having trouble coming up with the words, despite her having rehearsed this all night and morning.

The little “spit it out” was what set her temper flaring. He was mocking her! Wasn’t he?

“We need to talk,” she said slowly, danger in her voice. No one else was in the room, so she needed to say this now, before anyone could hear.

“You!” she hissed, pointing a finger and poking his chest. “Cannot. Can NOT just … just hurt every man who looks at me sideways! That’s just. It can’t happen! ‘Cuz then it comes back t’ me and then to Samson! He spent all night in da hole with them questionin’ him. We ain’t white… you KNOW we can’t take dat heat!!”

Now her anger had turned to hot, fat tears welling in her eyes.

She was scared.

He only fanned the flames of her anger. 

And she spoke to him, real low and cold. She looked like she would try to rip his face off if he didn’t tread lightly. Which would be a shame, cause, she wouldn’t be the first of his girlfriends to wind up dead.

Before her, the ghost of a man merely stood, letting her ramble and poke at him in frustration. Apparently she wasn’t too pleased with his attitude. Not many were, typically. This was no news to him.

Lucio grunts in frustration at her explanation. Apparently he caused trouble. Too much trouble, and it was comin’ back on people who had been rather kind to him. Did it not bother him? Had he no heart?

“He’s back ain’t he? What do ya want me to do? Turn myself in? Ya want me to hang? Or worse, ya want me to have friends raid this pathetic little hovel to spring me? You wanna keep your little saloon, Missy?” Perhaps it was uncalled for. His tone almost mocking, matching her level growing of irritation.  “Ya knew what I was before you was askin me to help ya with yer chores. I saw it in your eyes. You knew a snake when ya saw one. And yet, here we still are. I will NOT apologize for my nature that you recognized Segolene!

WILL! NOT!” This is emphasized with a slam of his fist against the table. He’s not just angry with her buzzing him, he’s angry with himself for ruining things.  Like he always did.

He pulls himself back some, away from her before he did something he regretted. Hushing his tone, eyes refusing to look at her.

“They’re not gonna do shit to Samson. I’ll take care of it. Give him my apologies for the trouble. Though I know it ain’t gonna mean much. I will cause no further harm. My apologies Miss Segolene.”

[cicero-the-assassin]

📔

send “📔” to read an entry from my muse’s diary about your muse

Gone again.

As always, we are to part ways at what seems to be the same crossing. And each time I am reminded of the first time he walked away. It's always difficult to believe that even a man that size can disappear beyond a horizon.

Each time fills me with this sort of bad feeling. Feels like it'll be the last time, every time.

Usually, he just hangs around me for fun till he gets a new little job that interests him. Sometimes I tag along, but sometimes... I can feel when I'm not wanted.

Who wouldn't want me around? I'm fucking amazing.

Maybe having a mad dog at his side makes him look bad. Maybe it's part of their stipulations.

Stipulations? Shove 'em.

Well. Whatever, ain't like I don't got my own shit to do and take care of.

Plus, I got this fancy new gun to play with now. He'll come back for it.

He always does.

[cicero-the-assassin]

☕️- what’s my muse’s morning ritual, if any? If they don’t have

HEADCANON MEME

((Lucio is decently ritualistic in the Western AU.

Typically the morning consists of him grooming himself.

He'll wake up and immediately crack almost every bone in his body before continuing on to brush his teeth and thoroughly comb through his hair. Then he'll bathe if possible. After, applying his hair oils, combing them through carefully and doing the same for his scruff. Trimming anything or lining up anything that needs doing so. He coals his eyes and gets dressed.

He'll then do breakfast. Which usually consists of coffee with an ungodly amount of sugar, and toasted bread. Sometimes he'll indulge in oatmeal. But this all depends on if he's alone, or with the gang, or in town etc etc. If he can be lavish, he will. But typically if with the gang, he eats what they eat. And likely complains about it.

After that, he then likely grooms his horse too. Whose coat is just as well taken care of as his own is. Then feeds it. Likely singing his praises as he does so.

At this point, he will likely pester and companions he has before seeing to what needs seeing to for that day. On a boring day, he begins the hunt for more food more than likely.))

[cicero-the-assassin]

🧍 - to block your muse’s path .

misc action memes

"Hm?"

Lucio looks down on the smaller woman who seemed to be blocking his way out. Were it anyone else, he woulda sliced their tendons. But this was Segolene. Someone he was keen on leaving on good terms for the foreseeable future. So he stops, and cocks his head to the side. Unsure.

"What is it cara mia? Somethin' wrong?"

Did he forget to give her a kiss or somethin? Did he piss her off? The little raised lip she gave him was cute. He guess he could tolerate her mood if she was in one.

His eyes narrow slightly at her, his long tongue drags across his teeth in anticipation.

"Well, go on. Spit it out. Ain't got all day."

[cicero-the-assassin]

Slurred words

Send “slurred words” to hear my muse describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk.

"Wai- wait- wait- wait- let me get this straight." Lucio grins widely, amused and drunk as a skunk. Better that than one of his other moods though.

"Yer meanin' ta tell me- that you can't pick that -UGE FUCK out of a crowd? The giant with head of fire? With the evil eye? That guy?" He can't help but snicker into his beer.

"Like a wall that guy is. A wall that's blocked some bullets for my ass on more than one occasion. Very strong- real... thick. Ahem-!" Lucio clears his throat, was the drink making him blush or was it somethin' else?

[cicero-the-assassin]

🍼 (ROFL)

Send 🍼 to see how my muse would react to being handed a baby

Ras looked, oddly enough, natural holding a baby. Like he had paternal instinct just oozing out of his person as he coddled the child. Lucio said nothing, because he was being sensitive. After all, Ras lost his own baby years ago.

But then the giant hands the baby to him, causing the baby to fuss in the strange man's arms.

Oh god oh lord it's crying. What's he supposed to do? He didn't like looking inept, so he handed the baby back. Insistantly.

"No thanks, I already ate."

It was a joke. Sorta.

[cicero-the-assassin]

"I think you're bluffing."

Tension Sentence Starters

"Bluffing?! BLUFFING?!" Lucio spits, arm quivering as he held the long blade to Ras' throat from his position of straddling his waist.

There was hardly telling just what set the madman off today. Maybe it was merely one of his lapses, maybe he wasn't bled recently, or maybe, just maybe he was just craving attention as he so often did. And the threat of violence always seemed to get the wiry man exactly what he wanted. Ras' eyes were solely on him now, even if they were squinted in distrust and irritation.

The knife presses harder into the soft flesh at the giant's throat, it wasn't wise to underestimate him. Had it been anyone else, Lucio woulda slit their throat just to make a point. But perhaps, perhaps there was some merit to Ras' observation.

"You think I won't cut you just cause we're partners?" His own eyes squint, long lashes peered through as he leans close, "You don't realize it, do you? Just how much my nerves buzz when you're like this. The big bad giant- vulnerable under my hands..."

There's a wistful sigh, a drag of his long tongue against the other's face. "Snap my neck then~ Choke the life out of me~ Anything to be rid of this acute feeling of stagnation."

[cicero-the-assassin]

@cajunspoons

Continued from here.

She’d kept herself as busy as she possibly could, anything to keep herself from wandering out to watch the man fixing her roof. It was hard to stop from thinking about it with the sound of hammering echoing above. And it was so hot today. She had to take her own cooling off breaks and she wasn’t the one sitting in the sun.

Eventually, she heard a lull in the noise, though she almost didn’t notice due to her growing headache. Finally, an excuse!

…To get him some lemonade, of course. She had to treat her workers well, after all.

Of course, once she got out there, she very nearly dropped both glasses in her hands. Her green eyes went wide, but she quickly tried to hide her surprise. She wasn’t staring. She WASN’T staring.

“L- Lemonade?” she squeaked. “Oh! Thank ya. That’s. That’s wonderful!”

She was offering him lemonade, which he quite liked. Given there was enough sugar in it. But- from what he had currently gathered from his new friend, he had a feeling it was just right. Lucio does not say anything of her startle- only offering a: “My apologies on using your porch again- I didn’t think you’d come out to find me.” He chuckles slightly, though he doesn’t put his shirt back on, instead taking one of the glasses from her gently. 

“Yes of course! Anything for you cara mia.” He smiles proudly, very pleased with the praise he’s given.  His torso and hips are littered with various scars from years of fights and gunfire and even a few burn scars. Everyone was rough out here weren’t they? Perhaps she’d think nothing of it. Taking a sip of the drink, he seems satisfied with himself.

[cicero-the-assassin]

@cajunspoons

Continued from here.

It wasn’t the most subtle of excuses to not talk on unpleasant memories, but she very quickly forgot that this was only a diversionary tactic. She was too distracted by the softness of his lips, behind which lurked those devilishly sharp teeth. Calloused fingers on her cheek and then neck..

Her eyelids fluttered as she indulged herself with a few more lingering kisses until her tongue pressed against his lips, longing to explore Lucio’s fangs. She sighed, sugar sweet as she melted in his embrace. And yes, there was the hint of whiskey on her breath.

With her warm tongue pressing to his lips and the taste of whiskey on her breath, it was hard not to become a little carried away. His free hand grips her waist before he breathes the smallest of warnings into her mouth: “Be careful.”

Her tongue is met with his own serpentine like one, and both rows of sharpened teeth. Teeth that tore flesh from bodies, teeth that he knew she was ever so curious about.

Lucio is careful, trying to let her explore for herself but be at least a little involved. He didn’t want to accidently bite and make her bleed.

[cicero-the-assassin]

@cajunspoons

Continued from here.

“Mos’ folk’d say I talk too much,” she insisted, though the touched smile was still there.

“Oh!”

She actually skipped once, tugging Lucio ahead accidently, for which she immediately chirped a quick “Sorry!”

“It’s such nice fabric, I think I’ll make a gown. Not much in the way ‘a fancy parties out here, but one can always hope!”

Just the thought made her want to dance and she did sway a few times to her imagined music.

“Say, ya ever ett from legs before?”

Folks tended to say the same thing about him. In their gang, when fully assembled, he’d been the gabbiest for sure. He’d been told to shut the fuck up pretty often. But-! Always bein’ fulla pretty words had its benefits sometimes. Like right now. Here. With her.

He jolts forwards slightly, but uprights himself easily with a grin and chuckle. “Issalright Cara Mia. Fulla energy today ain’t’cha?”

He’d have to be on guard. If he dropped this basket, surely she’d not forgive him for ruining her plans.

“Fancy parties eh? Kinda stuffy they can be. I’d be tempted to try and find one to sneak ya into. But I’d be afraid some stuffy coat with cash would steal ya away from me. Pero- ‘ett from legs’ what’s that Miss Segolene?”