#he blames Micah and hates the guy for being the first to call him out on his bs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vegetalass · 4 years

Note

hcs of the gang being quarantined in one big house together maybe?? 🥺 lub ur writing

i lub u, anon!!🥺 sorry this took forever!

General

Oh my godddddddddd

They had to stop doing movie nights because there was too much fighting

They tried to set it up such that everyone got a turn to pick a movie but there were still complaints

Now, movies are viewed at random and the policy is that

1. The TV is first come first serve

2. You have to announce when you’re using it

3. Anyone is allowed to join you

This has stemmed into multiple people shouting “IM WATCHING _____” at random times

And yes, people will try to hide the remote (mostly Sean)

If they can find it, that is

The lines between public and private property have been blurred. Everything must be labeled or there is a chance someone will take it

You can risk it, but it’s not recommended since they’re all dudes and will most likely eat anything

And even with your name on a box of graham crackers, there’s still a chance someone will stick their hand it in and steal a few

All the dudes walk around in their Long Johns like it’s not awkward

They have to do their own laundry so everyone is missing socks

Or they have extras

And wet laundry is constantly being left on the ground if it’s unattended and someone needs the washer

Arthur

This dude double dips

He licks the spoon and puts it back in, too

Gets yelled at a lot for this, but never remembers to stop

Everybody is afraid to touch all of the dips now because of this

And Hosea has to start buying separate ones just for Arthur

He’s the one who takes 3 hour baths

I imagine that there’s multiple bathrooms in the house but not enough for everyone so there are definitely times when people are like “WTF, Arthur you’re still in there?” or “Where’s Arthur?”

Usually it’s Charles or John because they don’t mind sharing a bathroom with each other

Cue Arthur having accidentally fallen asleep in the tub

But yea he’s just chilling in there, otherwise

Started the quarantine off by trying to fix up the house… But immediately got lazy

There’s probably a number of things he keeps saying that he’ll “get to, eventually”

The only reason Dutch hasn’t called someone is because it’s a PANDEMIC

Technologically challenged

Barely knows how to turn on the TV and still uses an iPhone 5 that has pretty much stopped working

John has given up trying to explain how to make things fullscreen on YouTube

Because of this, probably spends most of his time wandering around the yard and reading or journaling

Tilly even bought him some scrapbooking supplies, which he’s been trying to use

Little washi tapes and highlighters because she knows it can’t get too complicated too fast

She also makes him an Instagram account so he can take photos or post art

But figuring out how it works is a losing battle, and he never remembers to use it, anyway

“I think we should get a pet”

Everyone: “Arthur... Do we look like we take care of ourselves?

If anyone tries to talk about how annoying the quarantine is, starts ranting about people who refuse to take it seriously

And the conversation ends up spiraling into him blaming capitalism for everything

John

Every other meal he eats is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or Doritos

He does that thing where he wraps a bowl or plate in plastic wrap so he doesn’t have to wash it

Doesn’t clean up after himself

Leaves used tissues, slimy butter knives with PB on them, and crusty socks laying around

Unluckiest of them all

His snacks get taken the most, the bathroom is always occupied when he needs it, never gets to use the TV, his laundry is always moved, etc.

Always ends up using the bathroom when there’s no toilet paper

Texts Arthur for help and then makes an announcement in the group chat about “common courtesy”

Nobody replies

His texts are full of messages to Abigail that all say the same thing

“Help.” + “Please come get me” + “I hate it here”

They’re all left on read except for the occasional response asking if he needs anything from Target

The list he sends back is like four paragraphs long and it’s all dumb stuff

He’s like “FaceTime me when you get there, I wanna go shopping too”

Doesn’t even really want to leave the house for necessities, so he has to do stuff like water down his soaps or steal other people’s toiletries just to prolong how often he needs to go shopping for himself

He’s the one using Irish Spring from the dollar store mixed with water or a block of orange Dial soap that hasn’t been touched in five years

Charles tries to throw away an empty hand soap and John is like “THERE’S STILL SOAP IN THERE LOOK” *mixes water with it*

Steals razors and Shampoo

Thinks conditioner is “unnecessary” and “doesn’t do anything”

Complains about being bored but doesn’t bother to do the things people that people offer

Charles

Voluntarily becomes a recluse

Not because he wants to but because everyone else is too annoying to deal with

He’s forced to start using the internet and when he’s not on the computer he’s trying to block out the noise of the 8 other men he lives with just living

Going on walks is his other hobby

Also probably buys one of those adult coloring books to color

Like Athur, Charles hogs the bathroom

It’s not as bad as Arthur since he’s not in the tub for the whole time but he really will spend an hour getting ready in the morning for absolutely no reason

If anyone asks about it he just tells them that since they’re in quarantine there’s no reason to rush

But he does get yelled at if there’s no other bathrooms available

Becomes a self-care connoisseur

Walks around in a bathrobe and face mask just to try and achieve some sort of zen

Literally the only one who doesn’t walk around half naked

Besides Hosea, the one of the only guys who tries to wake up on time and eat three healthy meals a day

The house is entirely dark and he’s eating toast while Hosea makes coffee

It’s awkward, not because they’re weird about each other but because no one else is awake and it’s quiet for once

Dutch is the third person up and Charles leaves the kitchen by the time he’s around

Gave up trying to do the dishes and only cleans what he uses

Sometimes if he feels like being nice he’ll do Arthur’s dishes, too

But only if he gets something back in return, like Arthur doing his laundry or something

The only one who changes his bedsheets on the regular

Him and Kieran are the only ones trusted by Hosea to leave the house safely

Micah

Everyone is surprised Micah isn’t dead yet

Everyone is constantly fed up with him for something or for just being irritating

And try to ignore him for the most part, which is hard

Tries to defends himself with “Well, you don’t have to bother me if you don’t want to”

Doesn’t clean up after himself, either

John leaves more mess, but Micah does worse stuff

While John just leaves his dirty peanut butter knives around, Micah does stuff like forget to put the mayo back in the fridge, leave the bread bag out and open, forgets to bring his used dishes to the dishwasher, throws his trash in other people’s trash cans, leaves his wet laundry in the dryer, etc.

If it’s annoying and gross, he does it

And tries to eat food that other people have made for themselves or don’t want to share with him

Dutch is the only one who shares with him willingly

Does not pick up his hair from the bottom of the shower

And doesn’t clean the sink after he shaves

Honestly, I doubt any of the drains in the house work properly because so much shaving goes on

It’s honestly surprising to everyone that he takes the quarantine seriously

Accuses people of being sick even though all of them have barely left the house…

Wears a mask inside when he’s feeling salty

He doesn’t even care about the mask, it’s just to make people feel gross and bad about themselves

Besides Sean, he’s always trying to hog the TV

And everything he watches is annoying, pretentious, or both

Complains about there being “nothing to watch” despite always having something on and refusing to stop

Tries to smoke inside and literally always get busted for it

Even if other people are doing it too, he’s the one who doesn’t even bother to be by a window when he does it

His room is always off limits

If you need something from him you need to knock and wait in the doorway

Also does the “You’re too close… Step back, please” thing

And if anyone gets mad, says it’s a pandemic and he’s just trying to be SAFE

Mostly does this to feel powerful

Turns in to Uncle Jr. with all the complaining and berating he does

Uncle is honestly offended

Hosea

The only person allowed to do the shopping

He gave up trying to give people lists because the groceries they came back with were never right

Either too few, too many, not the right stuff... You name it

See here for more

That’s why, despite being the oldest, he’s the one who goes grocery shopping for meals twice a week

Refuses to buy alcohol because of incidents that they’ve had

Can’t stop people from sneaking it, though

Similar to Dutch in that he gets annoyed when people oversleep, but because its quarantine, he tries to not mention it, and at the worst, gets passive aggressive

Tries to make a chore chart for people to follow but it gets ignored

He ends up having to force people to do things by reminding them constantly

He’s the one who starts opening people’s doors in the morning and turning on the lights

Makes everybody start eating on paper plates with plastic silverware because he’s tired of trying to make people use the dishwasher

Arthur doesn’t know how, John doesn’t put his plates in the right place, Charles refuses to since no one else contributes to keeping it neat, Micah doesn’t even know they have one, Kieran also can’t fill it correctly...

Basically, it’s too much for Hosea to handle

His dinners are all Costco pre-made meals that can be made quickly

Frozen lasagna and prepackaged salad type stuff

He’s the guy who falls asleep on the couch sitting up while watching TV and if you try to talk to him he says “I’m awake” without opening his eyes

And if he’s using it, don’t even think about suggesting to change the channel

The answer is and always will be no

Even when he’s not really paying attention

And it’s either on the History Channel or Discovery Channel

Always complaining about how cold his feet are

Doesn’t let anyone touch the thermostat

He’s an in real life Elf on the Shelf

Dutch

If anyone, and I mean anyone starts sleeping in, he gets in a really pissy mood

“While I’m up, doing work for you, you’re sitting in bed being lazy!!!” and “What do you mean you don’t understand why! Why should I have to tell you why wasting the day is annoying to all those who are working!”

Even despite this, he can’t actually change the fact that no one wakes up on time

And it’s not like the work he’s doing for them is very important

He’s the one who thinks that a pandemic is the perfect time to be or do something useful

Eat healthy, write a book, pump iron… Anything

And when people complain about being useless he’s like “You have all this free time!!!1! Stop complaining!!! You can do anything!!!”

And if he’s doing something he considers useful, yells at people who try to bother him

Arthur: “Hosea wanted to know-”

Dutch: *doing sit ups* “CAN’T YOU SEE I’M BUSY?”

When it’s his turn to cook dinner, he’s making 8 boxes of Trader Joe’s mac and cheese in a huge pot and calling a meal

Literally the only meal no one complains about

He won’t clean the pot when it’s finished, though

Literally just cooks and leaves it out for someone else to deal with

Another self-care aficionado

Also walks around in a bathrobe and face mask

He’s worse than Charles though, because while Charles wears pants... Dutch will be booty ass naked under his

Also keeps trying to make homemade masks and scrubs and walks around in those, too

He’s like “This is a good one, I can tell already”

Everyone: “Dutch... is that... mayo... in your hair?”

Annoyingly good at monopoly

Does not invite Molly over and gets yelled at over FaceTime

Cue everyone eavesdropping on their arguments

Goes on power walks

Yells at people when they listen to loud music with swear words

Honestly, always yelling at people

“Can somebody get me my slippers? Arthur? John? Hosea? AnYoNe!!!”

Kieran

Spends the least time in the bathroom because he’s afraid of getting yelled at

Does everything in five minute increments

Except for showers, when he allows himself ten minutes

Barely

Most of what he eats is just microwave popcorn and shredded cheese

He’s the one asking people if they want to go on “family walks” with him

Literally no one joins him

Also tries to play board games with everyone

This goes a little better at least because Hosea will sometimes play and if he’s there, a few people will definitely join

Very bad at monopoly

The most conscious about wearing a mask

The others wear them but Kieran is the one who wears double masks, gloves, and carries around Febreeze

Also will get mad if anyone forgets their “safety equipment”

Or if they’re within six feet of him in public

Props to him though for staying healthy

I’ve mentioned this before, but... Spends most of his time playing games on a big tablet wearing headphones

Candy Crush and FarmVille and Words with Friends and stuff like that

Though all of his internet friends are weird old ladies he doesn’t know

Everyone is mad at him for sending non-stop game notifications, too

Hosea is the only one who responds to any of them

He’ll never admit this, though

Also tries to start doing arts and crafts

Mary-Beth started telling him about the various crafts she’s been doing, so he’s started trying to follow along, too

Things like crocheting or popsicle stick art

His stuff all looks bad, but he’s just happy to be doing it

And to be FaceTiming Mary-Beth

When he gets to choose a movie, he’s picking a “family-friendly” movie like Inside Out or Lilo and Stitch

Everyone starts out being mad but they all end up watching the whole thing without complaining

Heated debates ensue, too

For example, like about whether Flynn should’ve cut Repunzel’s hair in Tangled

“YOU’RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME THAT I’M WRONG?”

Charles + Arthur vs. Dutch + Bill

Makes meatloaf or Hamburger Helper like once a week

They’re basically the only thing he knows how to make

Sides with Arthur when he suggests getting a pet

Wears a Snuggie

Doesn’t change his socks

Javier

Plays his own music very loudly and won’t turn it off or down if you ask

Either that or he’s practicing guitar

It’s not really that bad but when you can’t escape it.... People get mad

The only saving grace is that the singing is usually in Spanish so it’s not as bothersome

The door to his room is always closed

Refuses to open it

To talk to him, you have to knock and then he’ll exit

Dutch is the only one allowed in and he thinks Javier’s rules about entering are creepy so never does it

Javier cooks his own food and won’t share

Only makes enough for exactly one person so even if he wanted to, there’s not enough

Eats dinner in his room to prevent people from bothering him or asking for some

However, he has the biggest stash of quarantine snacks…

No one knows where he gets them

And getting him to share is like trying to do a drug deal, but he’s not against it as long as he gets something in return

He didn’t personally cook all these snacks so the rules are different

His room is full of scented candles to make it smell better since the whole house kinda smells like Boy

Buys a gamer chair at the start of quarantine

Claims it’s more comfortable than the office chair that Dutch and Hosea chose for everyone

Everyone is jealous

Wears fuzzy pajama pants only

Sean

Sean is the one sleeping in

Never sleeps in his bed and just falls asleep wherever, basically

Usually the couch

Because he’s always snoozing, he’s the one who watches the most TV

Micah claims this isn’t “fair,” despite doing the same thing

And even if he’s not watching TV, he’s just using the couch to watch Tik Toks full volume

Tries to make his own Tik Toks, but they either stink or no one wants to participate

Constantly having people get mad at him for recording them

Stopped wearing clothes the moment quarantine started

Always in a tank top and his underpants

It’s kinda weird

People cared at first but by now they can’t be bothered to complain since they’re

1. Used to it

2. Probably start doing the same thing

Leaves his laundry laying around

Also won’t share anything he’s eating

Gets mad when people steal food

Doesn’t address anyone in particular though, just walks around yelling about how “nobody has the common decency not to steal”

Has food delivered almost every other day

No one knows where he’s getting the money from, either

Everyone think it’s a waste

Mostly because he doesn’t share, but also because all hell broke loose when Hosea found out about an expense called “delivery fees”

Also has a stick up his ass about wasting food

Started yelling about this randomly, too

If he can’t force someone else to finish leftovers, he forces himself to finish them

Probably gets caught watching a certain type of nasty video a lot

Lowkey it probably happens to everybody at least once

Yells at anti-maskers

Tries to wrestle the other boys and gets his ass handed to him

Bill

Possessive of everything

Usually he’s not this bad but being cooped up with a bunch of thieves and liars doesn’t make him confident that his Circus Animal cookies will last very long

Doesn’t share anything and very adamant about making sure there’s labels on things so nothing gets mixed up

Also makes his own space in the fridge with tape

BILL’S SPACE DO NOT TOUCH

And will start yelling in anything is moved

Not as bad as Sean though because he only cares about his own stuff

The whole thing is super hypocritical though, because he definitely steals other people’s stuff

If he gets caught, claims “it’s only fair”

Hosea has to buy him soap because he won’t buy it himself

Definitely the one who learns how to make prison hooch with cranberry juice and yeast

And the one who eats all of the ice cream

Even the nasty flavors

Wears the same clothes everyday because since he’s not working, “they’re not dirty”

They start getting holes in them, though

If anyone tries to suggest something for him to do, he gets mad and claims he “knows how to entertain himself”

Also constantly accusing people of being in his space or business

Ends up starting a ton of fights over this and then complaining about how mean everyone is to him

He’s not doing it on purpose, though

Ends up buying some kind of gaming console to pass the time

If he buys an Xbox, he shares with the rest of the boys

If he buys a nintendo switch, he starts playing Animal Crossing and doesn’t put it down for weeks

Out of everyone… He’s the one who takes the pandemic the least serious

He follows the rules because he doesn’t want to be eaten alive by any of the boys, but he probably thought the virus was a hoax at first

He learned his lesson the first time he tried to go out without a mask and got locked in the car, though

Forgets to flush the toilet

His room is dirty

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 headcanons #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 #arthur morgan #HOPE U ENJOY ANON SORRY IM SLOW #and will probs continue to be slow #my car broke down at mcdonalds today LOL and by the time it got fixed mcdonalds WAS FUCKING CLOSED #i was so sad my mom actually ended up taking me to a different one #but they didnt have what i wanted LOL #but it was fine bc i was happy with just fries #also y'all.... my sink is fixed and let me tell u #I AM NEVER PAYING FOR A PLUMBER AGAIN #i took that bitch apart and snaked it myself #and enough hair to make a wig came out of it but she was fixed #and i saved so much money my mom bought me lunch as a reward #LOL #anyways i love u all thanks for reading hope this shows up in the tags and u like it #i hope i put enough!!#and lmk if i should republish in a new format #i keep getting scared to make a new post and not answer anon directly #oH WELL JUST CATO PROBLEMS #also went back to work and it was... fine i guess #idk #Anonymous

59 notes · View notes

camillemontespan · 4 years

Text

her one constant [part nine: poker and romcoms] [drake the bodyguard AU]

Master List

@ibldw-main @jovialyouthmusic @katedrakeohd @moonlightgem7 @pug-bitch @princessleac1 @burnsoslow @notoriouscs @dcbbw @saivilo @rainbowsinthestorm @marshmallowsandfire @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @gardeningourmet @kingliam2019 @nomadics-stuff @kimmiedoo5

*******************************

'Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself?' Drake asked Camille as he prepared to leave Valtoria Manor for poker night with his fellow bodyguards. 'I can always cancel.'

Camille shook her head and wrapped her cashmere cardigan around her tightly. 'I'll be fine,' she assured him. 'It's your night off duty, please just enjoy it.'

Drake studied her for a moment. He didn't believe her assurances. She had been too casual about it, almost flippant. He had a feeling she was shitting being alone tonight after what happened at Applewood and he honestly didn’t blame her.

'Drake, I promise I'll be okay,' Camille said. 'Go beat Lou's ass at poker and enjoy your night off. I'm just going to watch a film and have a glass of wine, I'll be alright.'

Drake sighed, knowing she wouldn't budge. 'Fine,' he said. 'But if you feel afraid or anxious, call me and I'll come straight back.'

'It's your night off -'

'I don't care,' Drake interrupted. 'If you start feeling scared, tell me.'

Before Drake left the estate, he did a final check of the Manor and grounds, ensuring everything was as it should be. Once he was satisfied, he said goodbye at the front door.

'Enjoy your wine,' he whispered, giving her a wink.

'Enjoy your bromance time!' Camille quipped, finally giving him a smile and relaxing.

************************

Drake, Lou, Micah and Thomas were sitting around the oval table in Lou's dining room, cards in hand, glasses of scotch beside them. Cigar smoke snaked through the air.

'Step up your game, Walker, I'm beating your ass,' Lou mocked.

Drake smirked. 'Patience, Lou. Just you wait.'

Micah eyed Drake above his deck of cards. 'So.. The Duchess of Valtoria.'

Thomas groaned and let his head hang back as he declared, 'the love of my life..'

Drake grimaced. 'Keep it in your pants, Tom.'

'But she's so hot!' Thomas protested. 'Please tell me you have thought about getting with her.'

Lou sniggered. 'Walker's in loooveeee..' he teased.

Drake rolled his eyes. 'Shut the fuck up, Lou.'

'He doesn't deny it,' Micah said. 'He loves her.'

'Seriously, when are you gonna tap that?' Lou asked. 'You've been guarding her for four months now. You're basically married.'

'How the fuck did you come to that conclusion?' Drake asked, sipping his scotch. 'Please. Enlighten me.'

Lou chuckled. 'You both look at each other with puppy dog eyes. She always smiles at you and looks at you when she's dancing. She actually treats you like a human being.'

Drake scoffed. 'Treats me like a human being - God, the standards are low. Besides, you guys are all fucking your Duchesses and you don't seem to care how you're treated so long as you're getting your dick wet.'

'Jesus Drake, tell us how you really feel!' Lou laughed, shaking his head. 'You're so protective of her. Like, we're protective of our Duchesses but you're on another level.'

Drake shrugged. 'That's how I work. I take my job seriously and I'm not apologising for trying my hardest to keep her safe.'

The group went quiet, awkwardly quiet.

Thomas cleared his throat. 'More scotch?'

********************

Camille poured herself a glass of wine and settled down on the couch to watch My Best Friend's Wedding. Camille adored romcoms. Pulling her blanket up over her knees, she focused on Julia Roberts and Rupert Everett, wishing that she had a gay best friend like Rupert. Maybe she should convince Maxwell..

Not for the first time, Camille wondered how Drake’s poker night was going. She knew he hadn’t been keen to go based on the fact that she would be by herself. But they weren’t together. He was her bodyguard and this was his night off; he had to be off duty.

She hoped he was swindling Lou out of his money and that he was getting along with the guys. Drake always seemed like a loner, never really part of a group, even when he stood beside his fellow bodyguards at court events. He never went for drinks and he never told her about having any friends. As far as Camille knew, Drake’s life evolved around his job.

Which meant his life evolved around her.

Ignoring this realisation, Camille watched as Julia Roberts was introduced to a peppy Cameron Diaz. They were providing a good distraction from the fact that Camille was alone and feeling extremely anxious about it.

She heard a noise come from the kitchen.

Camille jumped up instantly. The rest of her staff had the night off too, so she was literally alone in the manor for the first time in four months. Great timing. Pausing the film, Camille slowly walked through the living room and down the corridor, steeling herself.

She reached the kitchen.

Poking her head around the door, she found that there was nobody there.

The noise was persistent though. Frowning, Camille ventured further into the kitchen before she realised what it was.

The boiler.

‘Camille, you fucking idiot..’ Camille scolded herself. Sighing, she turned to leave the kitchen to go back to her film. But she still grabbed a knife out of the drawer and carried it with her, not wanting to take any chances.

**********************

'Face it,' Lou said, after another fifteen minutes of solid poker. 'Your situation with the Duchess of Valtoria is different to ours. You gotta see why we're interested.'

Drake poured himself another glass of scotch , submitting himself reluctantly to questioning. 'How is the situation different? Aside from the fact that I actually do my job while you assholes fuck the women you're supposed to be looking after.'

Micah smirked. 'You say that like it's a bad thing.'

Thomas sipped his scotch, enjoying the gossip.

'Okay, well, for starters, you live together,' Lou said. 'That's not normal.'

Drake closed his eyes. He knew it wasn't normal. He knew he should have his own apartment and only work for Camille from 8am-8pm.

But the others wouldn't understand.

'Like I guard Olivia from morning until early evening,' Lou continued, 'then I fuck her till she comes then I go home.'

Drake wrinkled his nose. 'Jesus, Lou, you're such a dirtbag..'

'I make her feel fucking wonderful,' Lou defended himself. 'I do my duty and then I go home and be myself. Drink scotch, watch porn, sleep like a baby until I have to do it all over again.'

Drake stared at Lou. 'That is the saddest thing I've ever heard..' he said dryly.

Thomas sniggered. Micah shook his head, amused, and helped himself to more alcohol.

'Why do you live in her Manor anyway?' Micah asked. 'I'm genuinely interested.'

Drake sighed and looked down at his glass. The others watched him, waiting for an explanation.

'After she was involved in the assassination attack on Constantine, Camille became really afraid,' Drake said softly. 'She fired her bodyguard, Mara, for not keeping her safe. Camille was injured you see, ceiling plaster hit her head and she was knocked out. But what Mara should have done was get her out of the ballroom as soon as something became suspicious. But she didn't. '

Lou rolled his eyes. 'Mara was the worst bodyguard I had ever met,' he drolled. 'She shouldn't have passed her qualifications.'

Drake nodded, for once agreeing with Lou. 'Exactly,' he said. 'So I was hired because of my qualifications and experience. I'd protected politicians and diplomats. But Camille was terrified of everything when I met her. She couldn't set foot in the ballroom for weeks after what happened. She had panic attacks-'

'Poor girl..' Thomas murmured.

'So I decided to live in the servants quarters. It wasn't her idea, it was mine,' Drake admitted. 'She told me she would wake in the night screaming from nightmares that another attack was going to happen and she felt afraid to be alone in case she was targeted. She was a new noble and instantly part of the inner circle, thanks to Liam proposing to her. Easy target. So I moved in. I've been working with her on her confidence ever since and making sure I'm always with her so she can feel safe and secure. But at Applewood, something happened.’

Thomas leaned forward, his eyes widening. ‘...What happened?’

‘You tapped that ass!’ Micah hooted.

‘Finally, Walker!’ Lou cried.

‘No, someone broke into her room and tried to force himself on her,’ Drake said bluntly.

The other bodyguards stopped smiling and laughing. Lou was studying Drake with a frown on his face and he was gripping the glass of scotch in his hand. ‘You’re fucking kidding.’

‘Being serious,’ Drake replied, his voice remote. ‘I heard her scream. I kicked down the door and found her in the arms of this guy who was trying to kiss her.’

‘I hope you fucking killed him,’ Micah hissed.

‘I nearly did,’ Drake whispered, looking down at the table. ‘I was this close. Camille brought me out of it. She made me stop. But I swear, all I felt was sheer rage. It was running through my veins, like I couldn’t control it. I just kept punching him and punching him, determined to end him. I’ve never felt something so visceral before. But I needed to protect her and in that moment, I felt like I had failed. I had one job and I failed at it.’

‘You didn’t fail,’ Lou said strongly. ‘You did your job and you kicked the shit of the guy. He didn’t get far with her, right?’

‘No,’ Drake conceded. ‘But if she hadn’t screamed out.. God, I hate to think.’ He broke off and swallowed. He picked up the glass of scotch and tossed it down his throat.

The others were silent for a moment.

'When did you realise you loved her?' Thomas asked quietly.

Drake blinked. 'That's what you want to know?'

Micah smiled as if proven right. 'No denial..' he teased again, trying to lift the mood.

Drake closed his eyes. The other waited with bated breath.

'First time I laid eyes on her,' Drake finally said, his voice cracking. 'That first moment.. I knew I was done for.'

*************************************

Camille continued to watch My Best Friend’s Wedding but she wasn’t exactly paying attention. The ‘suspicious noise that happened to be the boiler in the kitchen’ scenario had cast her mind with more doubts and anxiety. She couldn’t relax. Her ears were trained now on any new noise that presented itself.

I am alone in this manor, all forty rooms of it. If someone breaks in, all I have to defend myself with is a kitchen knife and I am not exactly Olivia Nevrakis.

Pausing the film again, Camille decided she needed fresh air to get away from her inner thoughts. Opening the French doors that lead out onto the terrace, she sat down at the table and breathed in the cool night air.

Yet again, her thoughts turned to Drake..

Maybe he can come home?

She sighed.

No. He is having fun with the boys. He is making friends. Also, though he may live here, I doubt he calls the manor his ‘home.’ Get a grip, you’re not married. You’re not his wife who’s waiting up for him to come home from a night out with the guys. You are his employer.

But she took out her phone and scrolled to his name in her contacts. Her thumb hesitated over his name.

Stop it. You’re being paranoid. Go back inside and watch Julia Roberts try to wreck Cameron Diaz’s life.

Camille got to her feet and put her phone back in her pocket. She went back inside the living room and snuggled under the blanket, turning the film back on.

*************************************

Drake wondered if Camille was having a nice time back home.

She probably was. She loved drinking wine and watching romcoms so really, this was her idea of the perfect evening. Drake hated romcoms but he liked how much they made her laugh and smile.

He was now whooping Lou’s ass at poker. He was having fun, which he hadn’t expected to. Maybe he could come along to these things more. It seemed they had a weekly thing like this, every Friday night. Of course, Drake would have to ask Camille first..

He hoped she was relaxing right now. He didn’t want her to be sat by the phone, wanting to call him for reassurance, but being too scared to do so. Because if she was, Drake hoped she would call. He would leave this poker night in a heartbeat if Camille called him. She was more important.

****************************

Camille was sitting with her phone in her hand wanting to call Drake for reassurance but was too scared to do so.

You are being pathetic. Keep watching the film, get drunk on wine and just have a fun, girly Friday night. Maybe get the vibrator out?! Just do SOMETHING that isn’t getting your panties in a twist about a hypothetical intruder.

Camille wished she hadn’t thought of an intruder. Her mind instantly thought of Applewood.

Stop thinking about that creep. Stop it. He got into your room and had his hands on you but he didn’t get far because Drake stopped it. Drake broke down the door and rescued you. It’s done.

Goosebumps formed on her skin. She felt her throat begin to close up and her heart beat more rapidly as she remembered that night in Applewood. His fingers digging into her arms. The stale scent of beer on his breath. His lips brushing her neck. The overwhelming claustrophobia that she felt as he kept trying to kiss her.

Camille let out a choked breath. She tried to gather her bearings, relax.

What can you feel, smell and hear? Focus on the present. Don’t let this get you. Don’t panic.

Her breath was coming out ragged. She was sweating now and her body wouldn’t stop shaking. Camille took out her phone and her shaking fingers managed to swipe through her contacts to Drake’s number. Without hesitation, she pressed his name and listened to the ringing tone, clutching the phone to her ear with both hands in case she dropped it from shaking.

***********************************

Drake’s phone rang in his pocket. He reached for it but was instantly chastised by Lou. ‘No phones at the table, Walker.’

‘It could be Camille,’ Drake said, ignoring him. He took out the phone and saw that, of course, he was right. He wished he wasn’t. He had been hoping Camille was enjoying herself.

‘Camille, you okay?’ he asked as soon as he answered.

‘D-Drake,’ Camille panted, her breath coming out short. ‘Panic attack, I’m having a panic-’

Drake was on his feet instantly and shrugging on his jacket. ‘I’m coming back,’ he said. ‘Hold tight. Be with you in ten. Lay down, practice your breathing and count as far as you can go, alright?’

‘Okay.’ Her voice was so small and terrified. Drake’s heart ached for her.

He hung up and waited for the others to berate him. But, to his surprise, they didn’t.

‘Is she okay?’ Thomas asked.

‘Panic attack,’ Drake said shortly.

Lou stood up and walked him to the front door. As he opened it for Drake, he turned to him and regarded him with a serious expression on his face.

‘Drake, I know you love her,’ he said. ‘But you got to think of your priorities. Your job has to come first.’

Drake frowned. ‘I know that-’

‘No, you think you know,’ Lou interrupted. ‘But it’s clear to me that right now, your feelings are clouding your judgment. So let me give you some reality. Duchesses… they never go for us. We are there to protect them but they will never think of us as anything more than a human shield. Feelings don’t work in this job, no matter how much you feel for your girl. It means nothing in the end.’

Drake stared at him in shock. ‘But you always brag about fucking Olivia,’ he said. ‘And you make fun of me for loving Camille.’

Lou shrugged. ‘Because it’s fun to take the piss out of you,’ he said. He sighed. ‘Sex with Liv is the only way I can be close to her,’ he explained simply. ‘That’s why all of us fuck our Duchesses. Because we want an excuse to be in their bed and pretend it’s something more. But we won’t admit that. Instead, we sit around playing poker and brag about the tits and ass we got last night. But I’m saying this to you, Drake, and if you repeat it I’ll rip your fucking dick off. Do I want to take her to a fancy restaurant and wine and dine her? Yeah, I do. But she made it clear that she only wants me for two things and fancy dinner dates ain’t one of ‘em.’

***************************************

Drake got back to the manor to find Camille hunched up in the corner of the couch, practicing her breathing. She opened her eyes when she heard him enter the room; guilt flooded her features.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I ruined your night.’

Drake moved quickly across the room to sit beside her. He gently took her hand, wanting to be a physical support. ‘You didn’t,’ he assured her. ‘If you ever feel unsafe or anxious in your own home and I’m not here, call me. Are you alright now?’

‘Sort of,’ she said. ‘But I still feel a little anxious.’

‘What were you thinking about?’

Camille swallowed. ‘Applewood.’

Drake pressed his lips together. Fucking Applewood. He hated how Camille was back to square one with her confidence. All the work they had done the past four months had been obliterated in one evening thanks to the Applewood Fucktard.

‘He won’t come here,’ Drake said quietly, keeping his eyes trained on hers. ‘He doesn’t know where you live.’

‘I wasn’t thinking he would break in,’ Camille explained. ‘Just.. the memories. I felt helpless.’

Drake’s jaw set. ‘You are never helpless,’ he told her. ‘You’re brave and strong-’

‘I screamed when he got in my room,’ Camille interrupted. ‘I could have hit him but I didn’t know the best way to do it. I screamed like a fucking loser instead.’

A lightbulb went off in Drake’s head. Why hadn’t he thought of this before?

‘I’ll teach you self defence,’ he said. ‘Starting tomorrow.’

Camille blinked in surprise. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, really,’ Drake said, determination and hope flooding his veins now. ‘I’ll teach you basic moves so if you’re ever in that position again - which you won’t- at least you will be prepared. How does that sound?’

Camille threw her arms around Drake’s neck, making him chuckle in surprise.

‘Yes!’ she cried against his neck. ‘Make me a badass!’

They remained in each others arms for longer than necessary. Drake held her close, glad he could provide some light for her. That was all he wanted; for her to feel safe, light and happy. No worries. Just peace.

They broke apart. Drake gave her a warm smile and his eyes flicked to the TV. ‘So,’ he said. ‘What’s Leathery Face Mulroney up to now?’

Camille let out a laugh and hit Drake on the arm. ‘Don’t call Dermot Mulroney that!’ she cried. ‘He is gorgeous!’

Drake raised an eyebrow. ‘We’ll see about that. Come on, play the film, subject me to the fluffy and ridiculous plot..’

And so they sat together to finish watching My Best Friend’s Wedding. Drake’s arm stretched out down the back of the couch; Camille leaned back and rested her head against his arm. Drake’s finger reached out to curl a tendril of her hair.

#drake walker x mc #trr fanfic #trr au #drake walker #drake x camille

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yeet-or-be-hawed · 5 years

Text

“Lost and Found” Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fluff

This was another request for @shewalksinanotherworld! Thank you guys for being so patient with me, I’ve had major writer’s block the last few days but now I’m back full swing!

After getting separated from the gang, the reader has to learn to fend for themselves and survive on their own. Arthur thought you had died in a shootout, so boy was he in for a surprise when he sees a familiar horse in Rhodes!

You cursed the sun as you rode into Rhodes, the air was dry and hot and the dust caked your lungs. You were used to living it rough, but you were used to living it rough with others. Since you got separated from your gang, it’s been nothing but hardships one after the other. You tried so hard not to blame the others. You tried not to let it harden your heart. You tried to tell yourself there was a good reason they didn’t come back for you, or even attempt to send you a letter. Unfortunately you could only try for so long and being left alone with your own thoughts only made it easier for you to abandon hope and replace with with anger. How dare they just leave you behind like that? How dare they never even try to let you know their location? Something always nagged at you in the back of your head, told you you weren’t special and no one cared. It’s why your mama and daddy left you in the streets to starve. It’s why the orphanage was more than willing to throw you out on the streets when they became too overpopulated. And it’s why the people you came to call family picked up and left you without a trace. It didn’t bother you though, you told yourself. You came to terms with the fact you would be alone forever long ago.

You dismounted your horse in front of the butcher.

“Ah, hello young lady. You must be new to these parts, I ain’t seen you before!”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “I been sellin’ to you the last three months, Eddie.”

the man became flustered and cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it.” You said flatly as you u loaded your hunt onto the butcher’s table.

An awkward silence fell between you as he handed you your cash. After you collected, you headed over to the saloon. It didn’t take you long to spend the money you had just received on whiskey and fried catfish.

“...suspicious lookin’ group down by the lake.”

“Saw one of em ridin’ through town yesterday, looked like a mean son of a bitch. Best leave em be till they move on.”

The conversation faded out as the two men left the saloon. You made a mental note to keep your eyes peeled, just in case they were bounty hunters. There seemed to be more and more damned flesh hunters every year. You waved to the bartender, “One more down here good sir.”

“Comin’ right up!”

He placed the shot in front of you and you knocked it back easily. “You reckon that group them men was talkin’ bout were bounty hunters?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow at you suspiciously. “Nah, I don’t reckon so. The men and some of the women like to come into town every now and again. One of ‘em actually asked me about bounty hunters the first time he came in though. Seem like a nice crowd, said the factory they all worked for up North shut down. ”

You nodded. “Thanks.” You placed a tip on the table and turned out the door. As you headed towards the sheriff’s office, you lowered your hat over your face and pulled your hair out of its normal braid. “Afternoon.” You said plainly to the man sitting in behind the desk.

“Mornin’.” The man slurred. You rolled your eyes, this sheriff was no more a threat than the hound dog sniffing around the saloon.

Your eyes studied the board of bounty posters. Your own was there and you grabbed it quickly. You’d have to remember to burn it later. When you removed it, something grabbed your eye. There were layers of bounty posters on the cork board, and sticking out two layers behind you could see AR for the first name and M for the last name.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” You whispered as you pulled out the wanted poster. There he was, a ghost from your past. “WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE. ARTHUR MORGAN, LAST SEEN IN VALENTINE. ASSOCIATES ALSO WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE: DUTCH VAN DER LINDE, HOSEA MATTHEWS, JOHN MARSTON, MICAH BELL. ANY ACCOMPANYING PERSONS WILL BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR AIDING AND ABETTING.”

He looked handsome as ever, even in some shitty drawing. Your first thought was, Arthur could’ve drawn himself so much better. Your second thought was, burn in hell, Morgan. You crumpled up the wanted poster in your hand and stuffed it in your bag. You had half a mind to leave it up, fuck all of them, they could rot for all you cared. They left you, he left you.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Arthur’s betrayal (or what you considered betrayal) cut you deeper than any of the rest. He was your closest friend in the Van Der Linde Gang, and even though you would never say it, you were hoping to make things more intimate between you two, and sometimes you felt like Arthur wanted the same. But that was a long time ago, before they up and left you in Blackwater. No food, no shelter, they even took your tent. All you had was the clothes on your body and the supplies you had on your horse. Arthur never once sent you a letter; you went to the post office every day, sometimes multiple times a day, hoping for a letter from Tacitus Killgore but it never came. You kept your old alias at the post just in case. That was what burned you the deepest. There were so many opportunities to reach out, and none of them did, not even Arthur.

You decided you would burn his bounty poster along with yours. If any of the others had bounty posters, they could deal with it on their own. Maybe one day Arthur will know your pain of having hisfamily uprooted and left on his own without a trace. You decided that would be a worse fate than being found by bountymen.

You felt tired as you mounted your horse, as if your body was being dragged down by weights. You sighed heavily and gave him a pat. “Come on boy, lets get back home.” With a dig of spurs, the horse sped down the trail.

Arthur cackled as Sadie read off Pearon’s letter in her best impersonation of him as they pulled off the slim trail from Clemen’s Point onto the main road leading into Rhodes. As he pulled out, a horse flew by them like a bullet. Long hair trailed behind the rider’s head and time stood still. He was almost certain that was who he thought it was, but that was impossible. Dutch said she died in the shootout at Blackwater. His eyes followed horse until it disappeared. All in all no more than ten seconds had passed but to Arthur it seemed like he watched that horse for hours.

“Well, come on then let’s go!” Sadie said impatiently.

Arthur sighed and gave the reins a pull. He was in a daze of his own thoughts the rest of the day and for the first time in months, your ghost returned to him in his dreams that night.

Arthur brought the brim of his hat farther over his eyes as he walked down the steps of the gun shop. He could tolerate most anything, but this dry dusty air was getting real old real quick. He gave his horse a good pat and a carrot, she deserved it. The horses around camp deserved more praise than what they got, or atleast Arthur seemed to think so. It must be just as hard on them all this moving as it is for everyone else. “Yer a good ol girl.” He cooed softly. He mounted effortlessly and took a slow pace down the main street of Rhodes. He wanted to whip the reins and tear through the middle of the street like a hell on a horse, but as a badged deputy, he had to maintain a low profile. Hosea and Dutch thought it was silly how serious he took it, he figured he was just doing his best to keep cover.

The horse caught his attention, an Appaloosa with a Leopard coat. It was so dirty, he could hardly distinguish the spots from the mud. Your hair was the next thing he saw. Big and poofy, no doubt from the humidity. When you turned, his heart stopped. “It’s you.” He said breathlessly.

You didn’t even hear anyone approach. When you turned to mount your horse, there he was. He was standing so the afternoon sun sent sunbeams dancing around him making him look like a blessing, but it felt like a curse. He looked too well, a new olive colored vest with golden accents hugged his chest and a crisp white shirt, so new it hadn’t developed sweat stains. His sleeves were rolled up as usual, you remembered him mentioning he hated how restricting full sleeves felt. You remembered secretly admiring the muscular arms he would leave exposed. He seemed a little beefier than you remembered and his beard was longer. You hated him for looking so good.

“I can’t believe it’s really you.” He said softly before pulling himself off his horse. He approached with a big grin, that bastard. He was met with a swift slap to the face.

The shock from your slap rippled throughout his entire body. Of all the reactions, this was the last one he expected. He rubbed the spot where you hit him. “What the hell was that for?” He hissed.

“That was for leaving me!” You half yelled. A couple people were already staring but you didn’t care. “I go hunting for a day and I come back to nothing. No letter, no explanation, no tent! You took my tent for Christ’s sake! I gave my all to you, to everyone and that’s how I’m repaid. Left for dead with nothing but the clothes on my back.” Arthur blinked. You were seething with anger, but your eyes were welling with tears. “You left me behind.” Your voice was suddenly soft and you looked at the ground. Arthur saw the tears fall into the dust. “You left me to die and didn’t even care.”

Arthur stammered, he had no idea what to say. “Dutch said-“

“What did Dutch say? I’m sure it sounded very heroic and made the decision very easy.”

“Dutch said you were dead!” Arthur finally snapped. “He told me you died in that shootout. I grieved over you, I cried for you.” His voice shook with emotion. He grabbed your wrist tight and when you looked him in the eyes, the raw intensity behind them scared you. “Had I thought there would’ve been the slimmest chance you were still alive, I would’ve fought to my last breath to find you.”

Arthur said more than he meant to say in a rush of overwhelming emotions and it took him aback when you looked at him with confusion. “What shootout?”

“Scuse me?”

“What shootout? Why did Dutch say I died?” You looked him dead in the eye and a pit formed in his stomach.

“I...I don’t know.” His grip around your wrists loosened as his eyes darted to and from your face. “Me and Hosea was plannin’ a job, but Micah and Dutch swore by this ferry job they was stakin’ out. I wasn’t with them, but somethin’ went south and the law showed up quick. We had to move out so fast we left everything expect the caravans and the horses. All that money, all my things, and I ain’t sure we can ever get back.”

You sighed. “I understand, that’s a lot to go through, but you didn’t think to try to reach out to me, even once? I been at the post office damn near every day waiting for something, anything from you!”

Arthur gave you a thin glare, “well I don’t remember gettin’ a letter from you, what’s yer excuse?”

You sputtered, it honestly hadn’t occurred to you. “I...well I was- you always tell us to be so careful! How was I supposed to know if Tacitus Killgore was still safe?”

He crossed his arms, he knew you well enough to know when you had been had. “And how was I supposed to know Marisol Fletcher was still safe?”

You huffed in frustration and refused to look him in the eye. “Yeah well, fair enough. That still don’t change the question: why did Dutch say I died in a gun fight I wasn’t even involved in?”

Arthur went quiet. There had to be some sort of misunderstanding. Dutch would never leave a gang member behind if he could help it. And what was the point in lying? To keep Arthur from returning to Blackwater for you? There had to be some reason for lying.

You took Arthur’s silence as an answer. It was apparent to you that even though you were alive, Dutch made it clear you weren’t apart of the gang any more. You cleared your throat and grabbed your horse’s reins. “It’s gettin’ late, I need to get back to camp.”

Arthur straightened up and whistled for his horse, she had a bad habit of wandering away. “C’mon, you can follow me. We ain’t too far from here.”

You shook your head as you mounted. “I mean my camp. I ain’t goin’ back, Arthur. I am very... happy to know you’re alive and okay, but Dutch has made up his mind. I’m dead to the gang now, I’m on my own.”

“That’s not-“

“But it is.” You looked over the horizon. “Come with me.”

“What?”

You were certain he heard you. You sighed, “never mind. That was a silly request, you’re as loyal as they come Arthur Morgan. Write me when you can, and I’ll always respond. Until then, Mr. Morgan.” With a snap of the reins, heavy hooves sent up a cloud of dust.

Arthur couldn’t decide if he was relieved or frightened by the sight of you today. His thoughts were in a whirlwind as he rode back to camp. Nothing about this made sense, nothing at all.

“Who’s there?” Bill called.

“Arthur, dumbass.” He rolled his eyes, who the hell else would it be? He didn’t even hitch his Arabian before jumping off and making a beeline for Dutch’s tent.

Dutch was sat on a crate just outside his tent puffing a cigar. He lifted a brow in Arthur’s direction as he approached. Dutch let out a thick puff of smoke and smiled, “Good afternoon, Arthur.”

Arthur tipped his hat, “Dutch.” He took a seat beside the older man and cleared his throat. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Ditched eyed Arthur uneasily, “sure son, what’s on your mind.”

“You remember the shootout in Blackwater?”

“Course I do.”

“Who all died? In the shootout I mean.”

“Ahhh...let’s see.” Dutch sat back and tilted his head up, Arthur thought he looked a bit theatrical. “Ol Davey was shot, but he died up in the mountains. Jenny got caught in the fire, the Calander boys, and Y/N was there too.”

“I thought she went out huntin’ that day.”

Dutch cleared his throat. “She did, she did. Returned in the middle of the chaos, her and that pretty horse a hers got shot I believe.”

There was a false note in his voice it was very faint, so faint had Arthur not been face to face with you just a coupla hours ago, he may not have caught it. His eyes slowly came up and met Dutch’s. “That’s strange.” He said slowly. “Because I just ran into her in Rhodes.”

Dutch’s cigar nearly fell out of his mouth as he stuttered and stumbled on his words. “That- I-.... are ya sure it was her?” His voice was steady, but Arthur could see the quick flare of panic in Dutch’s eye.

He crossed his arms and nodded. “Sure as the sun is high. Stopped and talked to her. She seemed quite upset we left her behind.” He laughed nervously and rubbed his cheek. “My cheek still stings from where she slapped me.” He paused and his tone was serious. “Did you see her and her horse get shot?”

Arthur could see the cogs moving in Dutch’s head. “No, I... I didn’t.”

“Then why? Why leave her there? Damn it Dutch we took everything she had with us! She coulda died!”

“What’s important is she’s alive now!” Dutch said hastily. “Did she have the money from Blackwater?”

“No. She said all she had was the clothes on her back and the supplies on her horse.”

Dutch’s eyes went dark as he stared off in space. “We don’t know that.” He said slowly then rose to his feet. “She coulda snuck back and stole everything we had waiting for us. Does she know where we are now?”

The look in Dutch’s eye was fierce, Arthur averted his gaze. “No, I offered to bring her back but she wouldn’t come.”

“Good.” Dutch nodded and paced. “We don’t need her comin’ back here and stealin’ the rest of what we got.”

“Come on Dutch, she ain’t like that. We both known her for years before we got separated, surely you got a little more faith in us than that.”

Dutch shook his head in frustration. “Now why else would she follow us here? Arthur my boy don’t you see? She’s greedy, she wants to take everything from us.” He turned toward Arthur and his eyes focused. “No contact with her, you hear me? Not even through the mail, you can’t trust the mail service any more.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Dutch, I think yer gettin’ paranoid in your old age. Why don’t we just meet up and-“

“No!” Dutch bellowed. “I said no contact. No letters, and certainly no meeting up and that is final.” He sighed and softened his voice as he put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I know I’m being harsh, but I just want what’s best for us, for everybody. I know you miss her, but we can’t trust her anymore. Take comfort in knowing she’s alive. It’s more than what most of us have gotten from this life.”

Arthur watched Dutch’s back as he walked away. Was Dutch descending into a new madness or was Arthur following so blindly that he hadn’t noticed until now? He did not know.

Arthur groaned in frustration as he ripped the page from his journal and balled it up. Identical wads of paper littered the booth he sat in at the saloon. Writing was always something that came easily to him, until now.

Y/N,

I spoke to Dutch and

Rip! Crinkle crinkle. Let’s not start with that.

Dearest Y/N,

Rip! Dearest? Arthur flushed. Maybe too much. Crinkle crinkle.

Y/N,

He paused and sighed, he knew what he had to say but putting it into words was proving easier said than done. This is the last shot, after spending an hour writing unfinished letters, this is the last one just say what you have to say. He laid the pencil back to paper and stopped thinking.

I’ve missed your company terribly, so I am quite happy to be writing you this letter. Mary-Beth told me to tell you hello and send you her warmest regards. She cried when I told her you were alive, by the way. Don’t you know it’s rude to make women cry? I guess I can’t say too much, I’m not much of a gentleman myself. We didn’t get a chance to catch up when we spoke, I am curious as to where you have traveled and how you’ve kept yourself. I hope you faired better than us. After the whole Blackwater mess, we retreated up North and stayed in an abandoned mining town called Colter. We about starved to death waiting on the thaw, Davey did die, but from a bullet wound. Ol’ John Marston got attacked by wolves, he’s okay unfortunately just a bit uglier. A lotta bit uglier. Once the thaw came, we hit a train owned by Leviticus Cornwall. We didn’t know who the hell he was at the time, and what a mistake it was. Apparently he’s some big oil tycoon, he’s hired the Pinkerton Protection Agency just for us, ain’t we special? So between Pinkerton’s, bounty hunters, lawmen, and O’Driscolls, we’ve managed to find ourselves farther east than I’m comfortable with. In my opinion, we’re too close to civilization and people. Hosea agrees, he thinks if we keep up in this direction we’re gonna end up right in the jaws of their trap and I couldn’t agree more. Dutch is... well, Dutch is Dutch. He swears he’s got a plan to get us outta here, but instead of the West, he wants to go to the Philippines. Or was it Tahiti? Or maybe the Philippines are in Tahiti? To be honest, Dutch isn’t making a lot of sense these days. The day I saw you in town I confronted him about Blackwater. Dutch is a lot of things and a liar isn’t one of them, but I swear I could see his brain ticking like he was searching for answers he didn’t know. Things are changing, Y/N and things aren’t as simple as they used to be. Remember out in Nevada, it seems like we were just kids then. The group was so small, we were all so young. We were the best team for scams, weren’t we? Even managed to impress Hosea. It isn’t like that no more, I’m sure you’ve noticed. I know you said you aren’t coming back to the gang and I understand, but I hope you would be willing to spend some time with an old friend. If you’re still around Rhodes, you should meet me at the saloon sometime for a drink. I look forward to your letter and hope to see you again soon, I miss your company more than I’d like to admit.

Yours, Arthur

Arthur cringed at the last line, it didn’t sound as foolish in his head as it read on paper. He debated crinkling it in a ball and restarting but that was a page and a half worth of writing! He sighed heavily and carefully ripped the pages from his journal and folded them neatly. He would need a new alias, one no one else in camp would know. After a moment of thought, he signed the envelope as Morgan Callahan.

The morning fog rolled over the lake and refracted the morning sunlight over the waves of the shore. The morning air was thick and soupy, you could already feel your hair sticking to the back of your neck. You wiped your brow as you put on your boots and began the day. This wouldn’t be such a terrible place to stay if it wasn’t so damn humid all the time. Iron Flat Lake was teeming with life, both underwater and around its shores. The woods surrounding the lake were flourishing with wildlife. In the three months you had been staying here, you were able to gain a few pounds and keep a low profile. You kept your head low after Blackwater, being part of a gang was the biggest advantage to evading the law and without it you were left vulnerable; you adapted in response. You were an outlaw turned outdoorsman, you traded in your repeater for a bow and replaced blood lust with the thrill of the hunt.

After pulling on your day clothes and your boots, you began your daily routine. First, you check your nets that you had set the night before. You frowned down at the single bass flopping in the tangle of nets. Usually the yield was higher, but one fish is enough for breakfast so it was all you needed. After breakfast, it’s time to kill the fire and take down the tent. Your spot was safe, but paranoia isn’t always a bad thing when you’re on the run, never such thing as too safe. The next step of the day is one that you almost cut out completely- checking the mail. The mid morning sun was warming the thick air as you came into Rhodes.

“Got anything for Marisol Fletcher?”

“Yes actually,” you looked up in surprise, you hadn’t had anything in weeks. You had to close your slack jaw when the postman turned back to you and handed you an envelope. “Here you are.”

You gave him a bright smile and a nod. “Thank you very much!”

You sat at the bench in the shade as you inspected the parcel. You didn’t recognize the name, Morgan Callahan? But you recognized the handwriting immediately. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread over your face as you read over Arthur’s beautiful handwriting. You forgot how eloquently he wrote, you could almost hear his voice reading you the words. The pages had a slight leather scent, they must’ve came from his journal. A memory of him sitting against his caravan lost in his drawings came into your mind. As you finished the letter, you reread the last sentence over and over. I miss your company more than I’d like to admit.

How just like Arthur, it brought back so many confusing memories. Late night conversations where you could swear you saw his eyes linger on your lips, small moments in saloons after he’s had too many drinks and he’d get a little handsy but never in a disrespectful manor. But with all these little things came awkward next mornings where he wouldn’t look at you, claim to drink too much to remember what had happened the night before, and don’t even get started with the whole Mary situation. This man confuses you to no end with his wishy washy behavior. You sighed, was he wishy washy or were you just desperate to read into things? Maybe you just imagined his eyes lingering on your lips, maybe you took his touches too seriously. Maybe you wanted more from your relationship with him than he wanted. There was no maybe on that one, but you shook your head to yourself. You saw how Arthur loves a woman first hand, you were there every step of the way from the time he first met Mary until she rejected his proposal. That was the one night you had seen Arthur cry, and it was the most heartbreaking thing you’d ever seen in your life. So yes, you knew how Arthur loved and no, it was not intended for you.

You pushed yourself off the bench and into the crowded saloon. Your eyes searched for Arthur, but he wasn’t there. You were a little relieved, after so long you had forgotten how to hide how flustered he made you. You pulled the stolen stationary paper from your satchel and began to write.

Dear Arthur,

I have missed you also, as well as everyone else in the gang. Tell Mary-Beth I was elated to hear from her and hope all is well for her. Honestly Arthur, who hasn’t heard of Leviticus Cornwall these days? That surely was a mistake. I stayed in Blackwater for a couple of weeks in case you all came back but not only did you have wanted posters everywhere, the place was also crawling with bounty hunters. I heard some of them got Sean, I tried tracking him down but the trail went cold after a few days. After that, I was everywhere and nowhere. I survived off the land, really survived. I thought what we was doing as a gang was surviving but boy was I wrong. Having a group that size is a privilege you don’t know you have until it’s gone. With more and more bounty hunters popping up, I had to lay low. You’d be proud, Arthur I haven’t committed a crime worse than pickpocketing since we were separated. I’ve mostly just made money by hunting and fishing, I’ll pick up odd jobs where I can. For the most part it’s just been me and Ol’ Cow. He’s still fit as a fiddle, still wouldn’t trade him in for the world. Tell Marston I’m sorry to hear about his unfortunate face, maybe it will humble him up a bit. As far as Dutch goes, well maybe I shouldn’t go there as to keep conversation friendly. Don’t trust him Arthur, that man is a snake. I know he and Hosea raised you, raised us, but people change and not always for the best. Keep that in mind in your travels, and get the hell out of there the moment you notice anything fishy. You’re right, the world has changed and it isn’t so simple anymore. Civilization isn’t the cause of corruption, it’s the spawn of it. At the end of the day, there’s only one cause of corruption and that’s people. As for me, I’m currently camping out on Iron Bed Lake so I’m not far from Rhodes at all. I usually stop in the saloon in the evenings for a drink and some supper, that would be the easiest time to catch me. Maybe I’ll show you where camp is, your company is welcome anytime. I look forward to your company as always.

Yours, Y/N

You frowned at the ‘yours’. You always just signed, but it felt natural to mirror Arthur’s closing. As you folded the letter, you wondered when you would get to see him again. You pushed down the blossoming hope that it would be soon.

Arthur read the parcel just outside the post office, he told himself he didn’t want to risk getting caught but that didn’t explain the excitement he felt as he tore open the envelope. His heart felt heavy as he read your letter, you had lived so hard on your own and he had no idea you were even out there. It was hard for him to remember what it was like to be on his own before he met Dutch and Hosea. It had been so long, he honestly couldn’t recall. But, to live roughly you looked good, he thought. He smiled at the pages, he had forgotten the silly name you gave to your horse. It brought back the memory of the day you bought him from the stables. He spent two days trying to give you better names, what kind of name is Cow for a horse? He would ask. You would shrug as you patted his pink nose and say that it was a good name for a good horse and that was that. If anyone was more stubborn than him, it was you. He looked up at the sky as he finished the letter, the sun was already behind the trees. Perfect timing, he thought to himself as he whistled for his horse. The saloon wasn’t far at all, but Arthur wasn’t a patient man.

When he entered the saloon, his eyes darted across every face until they landed on a familiar black hat at the bar. He straightened himself and tugged at his vest self consciously, he wished he would’ve taken a bath first. He cleared his throat. “Ma’am.”

When you turned, Arthur was able to get a good look at you. Even through the humidity, your hair was still shiny and vibrant, the color hadn’t dulled a day since Blackwater. You had had a bath recently, your skin was clean and he could clearly see the freckles that dotted your cheeks. The sun had spotted new freckles since he had last seen you, now sitting around your lips and chin. Your sleeves were rolled up to reveal arms that were much more muscular than they were before. Even through the thin material of your shirt he could see the muscles in your back and shoulders. He tried to recall a more beautiful sight and was lost for words. When your lips curled into a smile, he felt a familiar heat in his cheeks. “Hello Arthur, have a seat.”

He nodded and obliged. Why was he so damn nervous all of a sudden? He started to speak and his mouth was terribly dry. He cleared his throat and waved over the bar tender. “So,” he stared at the ground as he spoke. “What kinda work you been doin’ in a run down town like this?”

You took a sip of your beer. “Mostly just handy work. Helped a feller patch his roof this mornin’.”

He smiled and his eyes flickered back to your muscular shoulders. “Well, ain’t you just a gentleman.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hey, gotta do whatcha can to survive.” You smiled and let out a breathy laugh. “Plus, I kinda like helpin’ people now.”

Arthur raised a brow towards you, “so you went from robbin’ and killin’ folks go helpin’ em around the house, huh?” He laughed. “Good on ya, ya got out.”

“Huh?”

He looked at you. “Ya got out, out of the outlaw game. Look at you now, a regular citizen.”

You frowned into your mug. “It weren’t my choice.”

“I’m sorry that wasn’t-“ he stuttered.

You sighed and gave him a smile. To him it looked terribly sad. “It’s okay, really. I know it ain’t your fault. I do miss it, more often than I don’t.”

“Why?”

“I guess I just miss havin’ a family. And people who care.”

“You can have a family outside the gang, ya know.” The bartender sat a beer in front of Arthur and he took a swig. “Hosea tried it for a few years.”

You barked a short laugh. “And who would have me? Look at me, I’m a beat up, rough nobody. Ain’t no man gonna want me.”

Arthur’s heart lurched, he fought the urge to put his hand on yours. Is this what he sounded like when he put himself down? It all sounded so ridiculous to him. “You don’t know that.” He said softly.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and he looked at you. Your eyes were far away and a small smile was on your face. “I do, but thank you anyways.”

As evening shifted into night, one beer turned to two, which turned to five. The saloon was in full swing, every booth full of patrons and the saloon girls were fliting around like fireflies in July. A jolly tune was coming from the piano and the chaotic noise of drunk men but all you could hear was Arthur’s bubbling laughter. His cheeks were a bright red from the booze and he wore a lazy smile. He said something, but it was so slurred together in an incoherent mumble.

“What’d you say?”

He leaned in close to your ear and you felt his beard hair prickle against your skin. “I said, let’s get outta here.” His Breath was hot and you were glad he didn’t feel you tremble. You nodded and he took your hand and led you out into the street. The saloon was the only building with lights still on and the chaotic noise was muffled in the night. The crickets chirped as the two of you stumbled down Main Street.

Arthur still had your hand in his big palm, half dragging you along as you sang obnoxiously into the night. Arthur was carefully paying attention to the ground under him, but you were not. You stumbled over a rock and began to fall forward, but you were caught by two heavy hands on your waist. “Careful.” He laughed.

You giggled drunkenly and when you lifted your head to look at him, his face was inches from yours. Even with your vision spinning, you could Arthur’s eyes on your lips, when he met your eyes, there was something behind them you had never seen. After a moment, he cleared his throat and helped you to your feet. His hand lingered on your waist and you leaned into his shoulder as you smiled up to him, “thanks Artie.”

Arthur spurted and laughed heartily. “Artie?” He wipes a tear from his eye and laughed again. “Is that what yer callin’ me now?”

You laughed with him, the movement caused the two of you to sway. “Naw, I just thought it was cute.” Your finger came up and bopped him on the nose.

“You’re cute.” Arthur blurted. As soon as it left his lips he could’ve smacked himself. What a fool he was.

You wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, “not as cute as you.”

Arthur’s vision was blurry but there was nothing wrong with his hearing. He swallowed hard, this was too much. He cleared his throat. “Where’s your camp?” He looked around and almost lost his balance. “Wheres the horses?” He slurred.

You laughed and slumped against a near by bench. “Who knows?” You fell into a fit of drunken giddy giggles.

Arthur plopped down beside you and slunk an arm around your shoulders. He smiled to himself as you curled up against his chest. “I’ve missed you.” You mumbled.

Arthur couldn’t tell if the heat in his cheeks was from the booze anymore. “I...I missed you too.”

When you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, he swore he could see whole worlds reflecting back at him. “Wanna know a secret?” You whispered.

He gulped. “Sure.”

With the most straight face you could manage you said, “I’m going to throw up.”

And with the most grace and poise Arthur has ever seen in a drunk person, you stood up, turned away from him, and vomited. He rolled his eyes and stood shakily. He put a hand on your back-for your support and his- and pulled your hair back with the other. “S’okay,” he whispered. “I gotcha.”

You cleared your throat and wiped your mouth as you turned to Arthur. “I think” you slurred. “It’s time for night night.”

Arthur laughed and whistled for his horse. She must not have been far, she came around the corner immediately. Arthur used her as support as he helped you up and then pulled himself up clumsily. He almost pulled you down as he mounted and the two of you fell into another laughing fit after you helped him up. “Okay okay,” He said as he tried to contain his laughter. “Where you stayin’ at?”

You leaned back against him and pointed lazily. “Jus’ go that way for a minute, I’ll tell ya where to go.”

With your best attempts of directions, the two of you finally made it back to camp and there your loyal steed was, waiting at camp without you. “Son of a bitch.” You muttered. “I’m too drunk to set up a tent.”

Arthur pulled his bedroll from his horse. “Sky’s clear, it shouldn’t rain tonight. We should be fine sleepin’ under the stars.”

You hadn’t even unpacked your bedroll before tumbling to the ground and resting against an old log.

Arthur laughed, “you sure you don’t want somethin’ more comfortable than the ground?”

You didn’t hear him, you were out.

When you woke up the next morning, your head felt like it had been smashed against a rock. You groaned as you sat up and rubbed your eyes.

“Mornin’.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin and let out a small scream as you opened your eyes. When they focused on Arthur you groaned. “Jesus Arthur, you about gave me a heart attack. Ain’t used to havin’ other people around.”

He handed you a cup of coffee as you stretched. “Sorry bout that, didn’t want to wake ya.”

You scratched your head and closed your eyes as you sipped from your coffee. “Ugh, I feel like hell.”

Arthur chuckled. “Drink up, that should help. You should probably eat something too.”

You nodded and groaned in agreement as you stood up. “Christ,” You said as you walked over to check the nets. “How much did we drink last night? I lost count.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t count.”

As you pulled the net in, your arms ached in disagreement. Arthur stood up quickly, “need some help?”

You let go with one hand to do a shooing motion and went back to pulling it in. “I got it.”

The net was much more successful this morning, yielding three smallmouth bass and two largemouth bass. You smiled triumphantly. “Did someone say breakfast?”

You ate together in silence, Arthur contemplated bringing you back to camp, how mad could Dutch really get? You had something different on your mind. Through your hungover haze, little flashes were coming back. Arthur holding your hand, the way his lips brushed your ear, the way his beard felt against your skin, his arm around your waist. His presence was unearthing so many buried emotions it was starting to get overwhelming. He was the first to speak. “Do you plan on doin’ this forever?”

“Doin’ what?” You turned to look at him and he was staring at the ground.

He turned to you. “Doin’ this, livin’ on your own. Are you not lonely?”

You frowned. “Course I get lonely, but where else am I gonna go?”

“Come with me.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He stood. “Come back to camp, come back to the gang! We all miss you like crazy, and Dutch, well Dutch can deal with it.” He took your hands in his and pulled you up from the ground so quickly you almost lost your balance. His gaze was so intense on you you had to look away.

“Arthur, Dutch ain’t gonna just let me waltz back in. And like I said, I don’t trust that man. I can’t trust him farther than I can throw him and as much as I-“ you caught yourself as sighed. “As much as I...care about you-about all of you, I can’t trust that man with my safety and well-being.”

“Trust me then.” You looked up at him and he caught your cheek in his hand. “Trust me with your safety and your well-being. Let me take care of you.”

Your chest seized and it was hard to breathe. “Arthur I...”

He suddenly looked sad and pulled away. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-“

You cut him off as he began to turn away by grabbing his face and pulling it down to yours. Your lips were on his and before he could react, they were gone. You couldn’t look up at his face, you couldn’t handle the rejection. “Arthur, I care about you entirely too much for my own good. I need to go.”

Arthur was frozen in shock, he could still feel the ghost of your lips on his. As you turned to your horse, he felt the panic slip in, he lost you once and he didn’t want to lose you again. He caught your wrist and when you turned to look at him he looked desperate, afraid, and devistatingly handsome. “Don’t go. Don’t make me go without you again, I ain’t strong enough. You don’t gotta come back with me, just stay with me.”

“I...oh Arthur, you know I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He wrapped his big arms around your waist and it sent butterflies to your stomach. You wrapped your arms around him and sighed. “What are ya gonna tell Dutch?”

He buried his face into your neck and you felt him inhale. “I ain’t gotta tell him a thing.”

You rolled your eyes and relaxed in his embrace. “You silly, silly man.”

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur x reader #van der linde gang #reader insert #rdr2 fanfic #request #fluff

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mysterybustershq · 7 years

Text

everton colony camping trip » event.

i can’t believe all of this actually happened.

daniel.

finally getting the fire lit, daniel stood up and headed over to where most of the rest of the team was standing. “hey, i got the fire going so if you wanna come on down, come on down.” he half expected all of them to say no, and really wouldn’t blame them if they did, but it was worth a shot.

blair.

blair wanted to reply with a simple hm, no. but decided against it and walked past him to where his fire was. she didn't want to be alone for the time being so why not try to at least enjoy the trip?

bryce.

bryce had spent most of his time, sitting in his chair, trying not to think about not being able to contact his mom, as well as trying not to let things bother him. it wasn't really working- he was still freaking out, only internally now. but when daniel mentioned a fire, he lit up, a fire would be nice. "i'll join," he replied, as he slowly stood up.

nathan.

as the group slowly started to separate to the fire, nathan tried his best to keep an eye on both groups. the last thing he needed was him losing track of someone (probably trevor), and having to spend the rest of the night hunting for them. "are we even allowed to light a fire out here?" he asked, trying to be cautious, ". . . but sure, i guess i'll join. . . i get my own log to sit on though."

vanessa.

"anyone got some marshmallows?" appearing at Nathan's elbow from what seemed like thin air, Vanessa didn't waste much time in bounding down the slight hill to where Daniel had been hard at work on the fire, joining the small ( she suspected it'd grow, though ) group relocating there. "That's all we need. Fire, marshmallows, logs - spooky stories? I've got THOSE covered."

julian.

julian had followed nat towards the fire, promptly taking a seat on a blanket that was spread out over the forest floor. he leaned back on his palms with his feet out towards the small fire. "oh, we know," julian laughed a little, speaking only slightly condescendingly.

nathan.

"no one is telling scary stories." he snapped, head turning to vanessa, "bryce was already flipping shit before and im on trevor-fleeing-watch right now. the last thing this group needs is getting more freaked out. why can't you just read Goodnight Moon to the group instead?"

naomi.

"boo" naomi says from where she's sitting, wearing one too many layers of clothing. it was cold. "that's what camp fires are meant for. scary stories and group bonding. lord knows you need to bond with us, nathan."

vanessa.

"Meow. Really feeling the frost here, pals," she murmured under her breath only SLIGHTLY passive aggressively, having naturally orbited away from Julian and Nathan before they'd opened their mouths. When Naomi spoke up, Nessa pointed to her and bopped her head up and down animatedly, completely in agreement, "see? Naomi gets it. We can't waste this perfect backdrop and NOT scare our pants off with the stories of my people - it'd be like going to NASA and not taking your chance to announce on the tour guides swiped mic that the moon landing was fake and you have proof... which is something I definitely have never done, and is nothing more than a perfect, random anecdote."

cristian.

cristian was already sitting by the fire pit when daniel called everyone to come, having already been there, sinking into a lawn chair, when the team leader had decided to get a fire started. he took a sip from his beer, gaze nonchalant, as everyone began to join in and start speaking around him, half listening to what vanessa was going on about.

elijah.

eli made his way over to fire at daniel's request. not seeing trevor, he took a seat near nessa, the second most comfortable person and popped a marshmallow in his mouth, eyes twinkling with childlike happiness at the mention of frightful fire retellings. "yeab, we cabnt jus' not tell scarby stories," the beyond the grave cohost mumbled, mouth full of marshmallow. he proceeded after gulping it down. "what else are we gonna do? sing kumbayah? no way! plus, i hate to break it to y'all, but we are the mysterybusters so if you're not a fan of scary things, you're in the wrong line of work."

kimberly.

sitting around a fire and singing the campfire song song sounded about as fun as getting her teeth pulled sans anesthetic, but kimi hurried over to the fire. she didn't comment on the matter of horror stories. this entire job felt like a horror story, and not a good one, either. she focused on finding a place to sit; not yet seeing ashley (thank god) she decided to stand behind the logs opposite cristian. it was purely a coincidence that she stood there, but upon seeing, micah let out a quiet scoff as he took a seat next to naomi. if not for the people around, she would give him a fair suggestion of where to shove his ill-timed humor. alternatively, she silently sent up a prayer for his cast to catch aflame, and looked around with an innocent gaze. "so what are we doing, then?"

vanessa.

nessa visibly brightened at eli's appearance, grabbing a marshmallow and popping it in her mouth before he could protest as she made a bit more room on the log she'd claimed for him. mouth full of soft, pillowy goodness, she accentuated everything he was saying with movements of her head and hands, as so; "what else are we gonna do?" - she raised both hands in a clueless-old-man sorta gesture - "sing kumbayah?" - one shake of her head side to side, curls gone wild - "no way!" - a very animated nod of her head, up and down -"plus, i hate to break it to y'all, but we are the mysterybusters" - a dark glance around at all that were so far gathered, like she was disappointed in each of them - "so if you're not a fan of scary things, you're in the wrong line of work." - a final nod coupled with the folding of her hands over her chest and a noise of agreement, as she finally swallowed the marshmallow that'd shut her up for two seconds and threw in her own, final two cents, "i vote we listen to eli, and naomi, and therefore me, and get cracking with stories that'll ruin ALL our chances of good nights sleep. for bryce's sake- sorry, bryce, for singling you out, but you ARE the only one who's freaked so far- we can go for a... a pg-13 retelling of the classics. that's a win win, right? right. the answer's right. say it, everyone- i'm right."

julian.

at that point, julian basically gave up trying to combat the girl. he laid his entire body down on the blanket, his hands resting on his stomach. "go ahead, ness." he threw out into the dark, his eyes closed.

nathan.

ive already bonded enough with ashley he thought to himself, groaning in response to naomi. nathan leaned forward, warming his hands near the crackling flame, "fine, i'll tell a scary story first. once upon a time, a guy from seattle just wanted to spend his weekend sitting at home doing class work. instead, he ended up getting dragged to virginia with Ghost Busters Jr. he got bit by mosquitoes, got sweaty, and didn't even have enough signal to use Pocket Camp." he looked back up the group, "there's my contribution. ive done my group bonding."

lana.

“mhm,” as ashley was going on and on about something, lana gave her an occasional hum to let her know she was still listening. she wasn’t. they were coming out of the woods when her eyes went from focusing on the leaves beneath her feet to the group who were huddled around a fire a way ahead. she pointed towards them and cut ashley off mid-sentence, “look! let’s go see what they’re doing.” she picked up her pace to join with the blonde following behind her. once she reached them, she shoved her hands in her pockets and stayed quiet to catch up on the conversation going on. what she heard only made her shoot nathan a sarcastic dirty look.

vanessa.

she stayed quiet while he talked- at least, no matter what else happened, nessa could say that much. she kept her mouth shut ( something that was often an incredibly hard thing to do ) and she didn't butt in, even though she wanted to the minute she realized where his spiel was going, and when he was done she waited a whole seven point three seconds before she said, very seriously, "if that's the quality of all your campfire stories, please, stick to your day job." and THEN - then, as if she hadn't just dropped that out there into the world, nessa nudged eli with her elbow ( a little non-verbal 'hey, help me spook these ghouls' ) and leant closer to the fire, gaze lifting to go round the circle ( and lingering a bit on the newcomers of lana and ashley ), before saying, ominously, "have any of you ever heard of the huge storm of 1935?"

ashley.

following lana back to the group, ashley took a seat on the blanket julian was on, nudging him with her knee to get him to sit up. "hey," she said, not really paying attention to what the rest of the group was discussing. but she did catch the tail end of vanessa's monologue. "no, what's that?"

micah.

"i don't even remember the storm of 2018," micah spoke dryly. "why would i remember one that i wasn't alive for." his question came out so dully, kimi could hear the lack of proper punctuation.

elijah.

after she'd made her statement and finished her marshmallow, eli already had one roasted on a stick for her — his own kind of thank you for her gestures and generous support — handing it to her wordlessly. his eyes widened at nathan's statement and he leaned in, eyes wide with excitement . . . only to have them dim immediately at the bogus cynical content #teamdad's story. "come on nate you can do better than that! the only thing that was scary about was your lack of enthusiasm and creativity." eli said with a playful huff, a devious smile forming on his face as vanessa nudged him. "ah yes. gather round everyone. it was the huge storm of 1935! where goodness died and EVIL was born." he winked at ness, wiggling his eyebrows at the crowd. "listen if ye wee yellowbellies dare."

nathan.

"i could always tell the sequel where one of the kids he goes camping with disappears and all they find is his glasses and a pinky toe." he responded, tired eyes shot at elijah's direction. nathan wasn't one to get into the festivities, but vanessa's story proposition peeked his interest, "storm? what storm?"

naomi.

"the only storm i know is that vine that's like 'hurricane katrina? more like hurricane torilla' and that's not even a storm." naomi speaks up from where she's sitting, "so by all means, tell us about this storm."

zachary.

zach, someone who thrived off of group dynamics of any sort, wasn't going to miss out on something as dire as a campfire. making his way toward the group, he caught the crucial end of vanessa's dialogue and interjected confidently, “heard of it?” he said with a tone that was mockingly serious, "i was there." zach smiled as he sat down next to eli.

alex.

alex sat herself besides zach quietly, folding herself onto the front of her legs, and listening with one ear. the prospect of scary stories itself made her animatedly roll her eyes as she rubbed her hands together to keep them warm (gloves were tacky, in her own opinion, and she was a sucker for fashion over comfort). "stop talking bull," she murmured before directing her eyes towards the fire, glaring at it. "honey, you've got a big storm coming," she mimicked.

vanessa.

"what about the closing chapter of a horrifying trilogy, where another one of the kids he's with shoves a marshmallow-on-a-stick so far up his a-" whatever she'd been about to say ( expression ever innocent ) was forgotten as eli silently handed one such marshmallow-stick combo to her, and she abandoned her threat in favor of stuffing her face while her friend reiterated what she'd said ( but, much better ). she WASN'T happy with nathan, that much was clear from the dark look that she kept trained on him for as long as it took for the others to tune back in and get in the spirit of the story, and then even more clear from how she began to avoid looking at him at all. "it was the storm to end all storms - my very own grandmama told stories of how they thought the world was ending...- and the people whom my cohort and i are about to tell you about WISHED it had," she took a deep, quivering breath, choosing to hook onto what zach said and continue with, "you should have waited 'til you heard the whole story before joking like that, zachary. see - not to sound too like a cliche straight from an egyptian tomb raid - everyone who witnessed what happened in the atchison manor that night DIED over the six months that followed. that is... the people who survived. we're not too far from that manor, actually - remember the crossroads? we took a left, but if we'd taken the RIGHT, we would have found it - the place the devil was born."

blair.

blair was really over the whole sitting around the campfire and telling scary stories trope so she waited for vanessa to finish before saying, " anyways, what time are we leaving tomorrow?"

daniel.

"blair," daniel said, his tone slightly harsh. all he wanted was one night where the team could just relax and have fun. maybe it was bad timing, but blair could at least try.

blair.

"don't blair me, cheater." blair doesn't mean to be rude (well maybe a little) but she can't help it. especially since it's daniel trying to get her to relax. "it's a dumb story and i have homework due tomorrow so i'd like to know."

damaris.

"b-" her own softly spoken cut in interrupted by daniel, damaris shut up and sat back instead of trying to throw herself in the middle, eyes wide as saucers as she looked from blair, beside her, to daniel, and back again. she waited for the other girl to quieten once again ( having already winced from her words - people going through second hand wincing was how you knew you'd fucked up, @ daniel ) before she whispered quietly, just to her, "why don't we go and get snacks from the van?- by the time we're back the story'll probably be done, and you...- the story will probably be over, yeah!"

julian.

without opening his eyes, julian poked ashley's side, trying to draw her in closer. "are they fighting? should we move? i don't want to get stabbed tonight." he spoke as quietly as possible, hoping no one else was in earshot.

nathan.

"blair! daniel!" nat shouted, standing up from his log and placing his hands on his hips, "look, if your outdated relationship drama is going to start shit on this trip then you guys better separate and take a chill pill." nat looked to the agitated blair, quickly collecting the roasting sticks that laid in front of her, "just. . . one of you take a walk. not alone though."

elijah.

of all the places to sit, of course zach picks the spot next to him. at his presence, eli paled visibly and shifted towards vanessa, who 1) had defended him and 2) was telling an awesome ghost story, which were 2/2 of the ways into eli’s heart. he listened intently, gasping, whooping and wiggling his fingers while he made ghost noises to add to the paranormal campfire ambience they had going. eli’s eyes were brighter than the fire when she finished, but of course everyone was sullen and sarcastic as ever. for a bunch of paranormal investigators they sure were normal. bo-ring. looking at blair, bored bitchiness illuminated by the firelight, eli whispered. “there won’t be a tomorrow if the devil gets us. and i wouldn't leave if i were you. if you want to get shish-kabobed by satan, that’s on you, but i for one am saying where i am. so, daniel, blair, i would work your stuff out because tonight's the night. and by that i mean the ONLY night."

micah.

micah sighed, already over the arguing. "so, zach was born tonight, he's the devil, none of this is news. but if you think the devil is enough to work their shit out, you're going to be sorely disappointed, eli." as usual, micah's voice had taken on that slightly softer tone, the one he always got when speaking to eli. it was barely noticeable, but it was there. he was still working on fixing that. "why do you think they didn't work out?"

ashley / daniel.

although he probably should've expected it, daniel stiffened at blair's reaction. after nathan got his scolding out, daniel rolled his eyes and stood up. "fine. i'll go." as daniel stood up, ashley followed, grabbing julian by his shirt and pulling him along with her.

vanessa.

great. just GREAT. a quality ghost story, wasted on everyone who wasn't eli - go figure. his theatrics had been perfect, the mood was JUST right, everyone was starting to slowly but surely get engaged in what she was saying ... and blair and daniel had to go and ruin it. thank god she was used to such moments not going to plan, because at the very least she was able to hide her sad annoyance beneath an indifferent expression, eyes darting to whoever chose to speak up next like it was a basketball game, muttering under her breath as daniel stalked off, "if you'd all just waited 'til the end of the story, then you woulda been too SPOOKED to argue and no one woulda had to leave, but noooooooo, you had to go and start RIGHT BEFORE it got good." and then, after a brief pause and considering of her words, she directed the final part at eli, "- you know, they don't appreciate our BOMB story tellings. we should start charging by the minute."

julian.

"oh–what? why? oh–okay," julian had no time to process what was going on. as soon as he felt ashley tugging on his hoodie, he sat up, and was on his feet with her. "you know, to be fair, bud," julian mentioned to daniel, walking just a bit behind the boy, "you really asked for that one to happen."

naomi.

naomi felt really awkward as they began arguing, pulling the strings on her hoodie to make it scrunch up against her face. "if it makes you feel better, i was really intrigued." she tells vanessa, words muffled by the fabric of the hoodie.

kimberly.

kimi watched as ashley dragged julian away after daniel. she wasn't quite sure how she felt about that friendship, considering how much it'd already fucked things up for him. but who julian befriended, wise or otherwise, was his business. she smiled at vanessa, nodding in agreement to naomi. she hadn't believed a word vanessa said since they were back in middle school, but she knew better than to let that show. "it was really interesting. how does it end?"

damaris.

she was beginning to think she needed a new best friend, and after sending blair one long, sad look, turned back to the others and went silent once more ( so allowing the narrator to effectively write vanessa m. wright's night at the campfire ) [ vanessa ] : "you'll survive the night," she intoned, spookily, half-heartedly wagging her finger in naomi's direction to add to the dramatic flare of her words. vanessa wasn't one to be knocked so easily out of a spooky mood ( some would say she was in one 90% of the time ), and she didn't not want to try bring them back to the group dynamic with the story... but she couldn't help shooting blair a wary glance as if unsure how SHE'D take it as she answered kimi with a, "maybe it's a story for another time."

zachary.

zach listened into more than he watched more members of the group gradually get in on the argument at hand. it was the type of drama that made zach wonder why they didn’t recognize how lucky they were to be so tightly wound in regard to one another. as a group, their fucked up dynamic was both a blessing and a curse. the product of a dysfunctional family. zach questioned what he had gotten himself into. he watched naomi with careful eyes as she tightened the strings of her hoodie. it was adorable, but caused a foreignly worrisome feeling to seat itself in zach. he resisted the urge to move to sit beside her; instead settling for a smile directed at her. he tuned back into the group just as vanessa was beginning to retract her storytelling expertise. even when shit had hit the fan, zach couldn’t bring himself to take it all too seriously. “you forgot a crucial part of the story, though, vanessa. as we all know, i was there, and i didn’t die. so what the fuck is up, kyle? a place where the devil was born, though? i’d recommend we go visit it,” zach looked around the group as though he were counting ( a smart-ass kind of move after so many people had left upset mere moments ago ), “but yeah. maybe it’s a little too spooky for tonight.”

ashley / daniel.

“trust me dude, i know,” daniel sighed, perfectly aware of what he’d signed on to. as the trio walked through the woods, ashley felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and pulled it out. “hey, we have service now,” she to neither boy in particular, showing them the way notifications were flooding her phone. turning her screen back towards her, she started to skim through everything she was getting. it seemed as though a lot of them were for the mysterybusters twitter, and all of them seemed to have a common theme. “the backseat killer? is that that new indie band? why is everyone tweeting us about them?” her the question was to both of them, but daniel answered first. “what?” he grabbed ashley’s phone from her hands, unlocking it to read what the tweets were about. “backseat killer escaped from prison.” he read aloud, his heart dropping to his stomach as he clicked on the article link. “mayer willis was being transported to a high security prison when he killed both the driver and the deputy with him and took the car. the car has been found but there has been no sign of willis,” his voice trailed off as he got to the end of the sentence, glancing up at julian and ashley, figuring only one of them would know what his words meant, before he circled back around to the fire. he immediately headed over to naomi, saying nothing but handing her ashley’s phone.

naomi.

naomi rested her head on micah's shoulder and pouted, "well that sucks... i really wanted to hear it." she tells vanessa, seeing daniel coming in her direction. she smiles at him even though her jacket is covering it but it soon fades as she sees the expression on his face. "what's u—" she pulls the hood from her head and reads what's on ashley's phone. oh no her eyes widened and just like that she feels like the world is crashing down on her. the worst part is that she can't react here, in front of everyone. "uh.. excuse me..." she gets up quickly and begins to walk away from the group, tears blurring her vision.

micah.

when naomi stood up, it didn't take micah long to follow. he would give her space, if asked, but the fact that she was on the verge of tears -- something that, in and of itself, wasn't surprising -- told him that it probably wasn't needed. and as much of a fuck as micah didn't give about what was going on, he still cared about naomi, and this all felt too silverwood-esque to let her walk away by herself.

julian.

following right at daniel's heel, as he passed the phone to naomi, he rested a hand on his shoulder, needing the boy's attention for a second. "hey, man, where was this guy headed? or where was he being held? do you know? like, we have no reason to freak out about this, right?" he kept his voice low, not wanting everyone else to hear the news and react in panic.

daniel.

"i don't know man, i haven't read much more. signal's gone again," daniel answered before lightly shrugging julian's grip off of him and heading after naomi and micah. he pulled her into a hug the second he caught up, one hand rubbing her back and the other resting on her head. "i'm not gonna let anything happen to you this time, nay. promise."

vanessa.

nessa didn't like this. she didn't like it, AT ALL. what had started out as a soft moment - a kindly smile turnt naomi's way as she became the only one there at current moment appreciating her spookiness - went sour with the guys arrival back. a new feeling, set apart from the previous bother, settled uncomfortably in her stomach, and the vibe of her surroundings... the vibe was all WRONG. something had changed, and she didn't like it. "what's going on?" she asked, loudly, sitting up a little straighter, eyes following naomi and micah before drifting to daniel, and julian - the others in on whatever it was, it seemed.

micah.

micah stood aside as daniel hugged naomi. he threw a glance back towards where they'd left the others. he didn't care about them much, but at least they were all together. he looked back to daniel. "won't let who hurt her again?" usually, micah would stay out of it. but if someone was going to hurt naomi, that was irrevocably his business, and no one could say otherwise.

ashley.

"some guy named mayer willis broke out of jail and killed guards and stuff. and now they don't know where he is," ashley announced as she walked back to the fire.

trevor.

trevor had been a bit spacey since they all gathered together, it wasn’t a surprise since before they left he hot boxed himself in the bathroom of their dorm. he was extremely high and he was really relaxed when he was usually panicking at the thought of death, he was just chilling - staring off into the distance thinking about whether or not alex’s hair smelled like cotton candy or was cotton candy in his high little brain. snapping back into reality, the tall man shook his head and glanced around. everyone didn’t seem happy but he was too zoned out a moment ago to know what had happened. “ uh... so... did someone fart ? “ he made an awkward face, not really knowing what to say.

bryce.

bryce looked up in time to see daniel approach naomi, his eyebrows furrowing together as he watched the exchange. he didn't hear anything that they said, but he saw the look on her face- and that said enough. he was getting ready to stand up and follow the group when he heard ashley's announcement- and then he froze. mayer willis. no wonder naomi was upset. casting a glance at the rest of the group, he slowly stood up and made his way to where naomi, micah and daniel were standing.

zachary.

it took a lot out of zach not to insert himself into the conversation��or into the moment as a whole. and if the situation hadn’t been surrounding naomi, he definitely would have. but he had been patient in getting to know her fully. he had taken his time. he wasn’t going to fuck it up now by rushing to be someone she didn’t want him to be. what reassured him the most was the fact that ashley had followed suit. thankfully, vanessa voiced what he had been thinking since naomi was handed the phone, and when ashley showed back up to the fire zach stood up to meet her. “hey, what’s happening? what can i do?” his tone softened just a little as he repeated himself, “is there something i can do?”

nathan.

"what?" he exclaimed, voice booming through the campsite, "alright, trips over. you're all getting in that van and we're staying in a hotel or pulling an all nighter at the airport." nathan was more worried than aggravated at this point. of course there would be some killer running around just when they were out in the middle of west bumblefuck. through the chaos, he kept a close eye on damaris (not that she had done anything guilty yet, but he didnt want her wandering off and possibly causing more of a disturbance). "daniel, sorry to put a stake in your trip, but something has to be done."

lana.

her eyes followed naomi who separated herself from the group, lana's attention stayed on her until ashley’s words snapped her out of the trance. she couldn’t have heard that right. ashley must have made a mistake; it wouldn't be the first time. there was no possibility of that scenario being real and she wasn’t about to freak out until she was sure. she cleared her through before forcing the word out, “w-who?"

damaris.

the effect ashley's statement had on damaris, silent and non-existent 'til that convenient moment, was instantaneous. her face paled, her eyes widened, and though she didn't jump up from the log she'd been perched on to rush to naomi's side - she thought about it, and would have, if it weren't for fearing she'd crowd the girl. it was happening again. everything they'd been through - everything they'd JUST started to move on from, was suddenly at risk of coming to pass again. without thinking, she reached out and took a hold of blair's hand for comfort, silly as it were, eyes on everyone else as she waited for the information that hadn't been spilled yet.

naomi.

something about having daniel, damaris, micah, bryce and even blair there surrounding her made her feel a lot better. they had all been terrorized by him that night but, for obvious reasons, it hit closer to home. she hugged daniel back and softly cried into his chest. "i can't do this. what if he finds out where we are? where we work... live. you guys know he's coming for us... me because i'm the reason he was caught. and oh god what if he finds out about the twins and tries to hurt them too... i-i can't do this i have to, i have to leave. how much does it cost to get your name changed? a new passport... micah please tell me you know a guy. do any of you know a guy?"

micah.

her questions hit so hard to home, because god, if micah hadn't been thinking them, too. the evidence was in the discolored skin beneath his eye, and the split of his lip, and the cast on his arm. yeah, he knew a bit about that. but naomi couldn't make the same choice he did. he wouldn't let her. "breathe, nomi. i'm not going to let him hurt you, or the twins. i promise."

kimberly.

kimi watched as the original group stood together, forming a protective sort of semi-circle around naomi. as much as she wanted to know what was going on, she wisely stayed in her lane. she wandered closer to ashley, looking up at nat with wide, terrified eyes. "please, let's go. now."

vanessa.

if she'd thought that blair and daniel's fight was gonna be the worst of the evening, then wow had she been mistaken - evidently, that had just been the tip of the yikesburg. it wasn't her place to be with naomi or the other og's - she hadn't experienced what they had, she didn't know what they'd been through in the intimate way each of them did. her place was by elijah, where she took comfort from his presence and had a pretty great vantage point of everyone's reactions to the news, and where, when nathan spoke up, her "i agree" came softly from. they had to go. if nothing else, so the noise naomi was making wouldn't attract all the wild animals in the area to them ( not that she had scientific proof that crying drew bears, but she didn't want to take the chance ).

julian.

"wait, wait–" julian held his hands up, trying to grather some attention from the group that was still by the fire. "we don't need to go anywhere. and it's way too late to find a hotel with room for, what, twenty people? we're fine here." maybe he didn't really believe it, but julian didn't want everyone else to start panicking.

ashley.

"mayer willis?" ashley repeated, making eye contact with lana. "i could be getting the name wrong, dan has my phone." she shrugged. turning her attention to zach, she shrugged again. "i have no idea. i thought he was just some singer, but apparently i was really wrong." it seemed like she was the only one that didn't know what was going on; was keeping updated on criminals a requirement that daniel had let slide when he signed her on?

alex.

"yeah," alex replied, "totally fine. with a killer who could be hiding in the backseat of our van!" she shook her head, arms crossing as she stood and stomped the ground with the heel of her shoe. "i'm calling a freaking uber."

bryce.

bryce bit his lip as he listened to naomi- he didn't know what to say, and out of fear of saying the wrong thing- he stayed silent, his hands clinching into fists as he thought back to that night. he'd tried his best to block it from his mind- but now it seemed inevitable that he was going to relive it. and he was scared, but for everyone's sake he tried his best to remain calm. "we won't let him hurt you, or the twins," when he spoke his voice was low, and shaky, but he meant what he said.

naomi.

the more she thought about it the more scared she began to feel and suddenly naomi was freaking out the same way she was when she got that ticket for not pulling over for an emergency vehicle ( haha #tbt ) "we have to go. like now i can't do this oh my god i'm going to die, we're all going to die and it's my fault—" she pulled away from daniel and rested her hands on her knees, "i'm gonna throw up."

nathan.

"sorry, julian. supervisor trumps researcher." nathan said, looking around for something to put the fire out, "it's not safe. we can spend the night in the airport or even go to a church. anything is better than here where we have no signal. cristian is a big boy, he knows how to work high beams. he can drive."

alex.

alex glances worriedly at the group surrounding naomi before turning away, and promptly deciding, for once, it was none of her business. "for once... and it pains me to say this," she said, "i think we should listen to what nathan has to say."

trevor.

trevor looked around again, seeing as no one was laughing about his fart assumption he figured it was really serious because no one didn't laugh at a fart joke unless there was something wrong. the tall boy stood up, awkwardly mostly because his high mind made it seem like he was moving slower than he really was. " okay ! i have no clue whats going on - you guys seemed freaked out so i'm guessing either naomi is having a normal breakdown or an actually bad breakdown ? " he looked around once more before glancing at vanessa. " are we gonna die? is this a cabin in the woods situation ? because the stoner ALWAYS dies first ! " he exclaimed.

vanessa.

"trevor, the stoner died LAST in that movie," vanessa corrected cooly ( doing eli's job for him, since he wasn't there ). she didn't have a very good feeling about the night as a whole, now. some would say it was a little late to be listening to bad vibes, but nessa was of the opinion that it was only too late when you were DEAD - something they weren't, yet, and that she was quick to add on and direct trevor's way, "everything is fine. we're going to leave, right guys? leave, get out, slam the door on this WHOLE thing - a healthy case of the SCADADDLES, and once we've relocated this shindig to the airport, everything'll be right as rain! or. as right as rain ever is? you get me."

elijah.

insanity was unfolding right before their very eyes. naomi was crying, screaming, BOTH and everyone was trying to get out of there and eli was inclined to agree when. . . "wait! GUYS HOLD ON ! WAIT I HAVE TO GET MY CAT!"

julian.

"elijah, i told you not to bring tippi!" julian had both hands ontop of his head, a headache already forming from the stress.

julian.

" you brought TIPPI!" trevor exclaimed in more fear than before, the thought of eli's cat going missing even more scary then himself disappearing. " we HAVE to find him NOW ! " he yelled out before turning to almost run to find the cat.

bryce.

bryce could make out part of what was happening around the camp fire, and he found it to be incredibly overwhelming. he just needed to get away- or block it out or something. so without saying anything he sort of just walked a way, still in sight and sat down, covering his ears with his hands, as he focused on taking a few deep breaths.

cristian.

half listening to everyone's bickering for the past couple minutes, cristian had been rolling his eyes ever so subtly in the background, busying himself with relaxing by the fire. he wasn’t about to spend the last few hours of his birthday weekend worrying about ghost stories and people's breakups. however, his indifference only lasted so long. upon hearing the name of the backseat killer, cristian's brows popped up in worry, remnants of the silverwood night rushing a bit too quickly into his mind. many of the faces around the fire probably couldn't understand the magnitude of the terror that rushed through his head, although he could see it in the faces of the other original members. therefore, getting up quickly from his chair and swiftly taking out the van's keys from his pocket, it only felt right to join the others by naomi's side. he wasn’t the greatest with tears, but he could surely understand the horror of the situation, so rushing up behind micah, catching the last of naomi's words, cristian added, “uh, if it helps, naomi, i do know a guy.” he shrugged, trying to keep his calmest face in the heat of the tense moment, allowing her to let it all out. just the group being near each other seemed like enough. however, cristian knew better. so, after hearing everyone's pleas to leave, he nodded affirmatively. " yeah, maybe it's best that we get the hell out of here," cristian agreed, dangling the van's keys so everyone could see. "i actually think i did see a church nearby on the way up here, but we'll see. everyone get what you need and get in. quickly." he gestured toward where the vehicle was parked.

damaris.

while vanessa immediately rushed to eli's side and panicked about tippi with the rest of them, damaris went in the opposite direction, moving to bryce's side. so much was happening - too much, at that - and she knew it was probably overwhelming, so she did what she could and grasped his shoulder, tightly, grounding him in the moment and giving him a few seconds to calm his heart rate before she gave his jacket a gentle tug in the van's direction. "c'mon, bry. we're going - we're gonna go to a church cris saw. it'll all be better once we're there, ok?"

lana.

lana took one step forward, about to start a trail to the van, after ashley confirmed it and they decided upon leaving. except she was starting to feel like her heart was beating out her chest and she couldn't move. this was a situation that she hadn't been expecting and that was part of the reason why she was silently panicking. she shouldn't have reacting at all, not in front of every one here. she took a long moment tried to contain herself while everyone was talking amongst themselves, not wanting the lightheadedness feeling that was creeping in get to her. but, it was no use. her father, the person who tried to kill her best friend, and someone she'd been trying to escape for years was on the loose. the rest of the group’s distress continued to encourage the sickening sensation. there was no reality in which lana would be able to hold herself together and before she knew it, everything went black-- just in time to not feel the blow of her body hitting the ground beneath her.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-XjayddbksQ

kimberly.

kimi watched as lana's body hit the floor. "we should... should someone grab her? is she alive?"

nathan.

through the symphony of yelling, crying, and meows in attempt to call tippi from hiding, nathan heard the thud lana's body made as it hit the forest floor. "shit." he murmured, rushing over the the girl on the ground. "uh a little HELP HERE." he called to the group, gently shaking lana's shoulders, "lana? hey lana." he smacked her cheek gently, "lana??"

alex.

alex actually laughed. "stop playing, lana. this is a serious discussion."

bryce.

bryce squeezed his eyes shut- maybe if he pictured something- he could forget about what was going on. it didn't work. but feeling the hand on his shoulder, he opened his eyes as he slowly titled his head to look at damaris. her words didn’t register, but he found himself nodding as he slowly stood up. “t-that sounds nice,” he stammered, as he slowly moved in the direction of everyone else. stopping in his tracks as he watched lana fall to the ground.

julian.

standing up to run to lana, julian was beat by nathan's frantic run. he was frozen for a second, watching the two, waiting for some reaction from the girl. he turned around on his heel, picking into a near-by cooler, and pulling out a bottle of water. he sprinted to nat and lana, his knees digging into the dirt. "did you slap her? no, no–bend her knee, put her on her–" as nicely as he could, julian shoved nathan to the side, gently turning lana's body so that the girl was resting on her side.

nathan.

"is she breathing??" he asked frantically, trusting julian enough to take somewhat over, "put a finger under her nose or something." he bit the skin of his nails anxiously until a bead of blood formed, "fuck. how far is the nearest hospital?"

julian.

"she's fine," julian said, taking the water bottle and placing it under lana's neck, "she wasn't strangled, she just passed out. give her a second." he looked at nathan and sighed, seeing everyone else who had gathered in worry. "someone might want to get naomi. for when she wakes up," he told to anyone in the group who was listening.

kimberly.

kimi bit her lip apprehensively. she thought everyone was being a little dramatic, but even she was starting to get worried. casting another glance at the panicking group, she followed cristian to the van. she stood aside as he tried to get the car started. her eyes widened when he said the car wouldn't start. "what the f--... why wouldn't it start?" she laughed nervously, hoping to cover her near slip.

naomi.

after many deep breaths and encouraging words from daniel, naomi was able to calm down just a little before seeing julian and nathan around lana. "what— what happened to lana?" she quickly runs over to where they are and gets down on her knees, shaking the girls body. "lana... oh my god why did she pass out is she okay? i'm gonna go get her some water." she looks at both nathan and julian before getting up and walking towards cristian and kimberly. too much was happening and everyone knows how naomi gets when things get tough. she hears cristian say the van won't stop and honestly things could not get any worse than this. "jesus fucking christ cristian i swear to god if you don't get this dumb van to work i'll fucking scream until all of your heads pop!" she begins to roughly hit the hood of the vehicle with her hands, looking at him— expecting him to do something.

nathan.

Nathan bunched up his jacket to create a makeshift pillow to put unless lana's head. he was about to ask julian another question when he heard the oh so familiar shrillness of naomi's voice. cringing, he turned toward the direction of the van, "what the fuck are you guys doing? get in the c!--" before he could finish, he noticed naomi pounding her fists on the hood. he swallowed a nervous gasp that had presented itself in his throat. "guys. . . whats wrong with the van?. . ."

daniel.

watching everything go down hit too close to home for daniel. he'd sworn nothing like this would ever happen again. that was the only reason he'd even agreed to continue the group. "okay," he said, thinking aloud. "everyone just calm down. he was in prison back in washington and everything is from today. there's no way he could get here in that little time, so we're safe for the night." there was no telling what would happen once they left, but for now, they were okay. and there was no point in worrying everyone if they couldn't leave. "so just stop freaking out. nothing bad's gonna happen to us tonight."

cristian.

shrugging in kimi's direction, cristian gave her an unsure glance. “ i don’t know, i can pop open the front and see what’s wrong, but it was fine like not even an hour ago, i don’t know what’s up,” he explained, running a hand over the top of his head as he contemplated what could have gone wrong, his level of worry beginning to rise substantially and his heart picking up in pace as the pressure zeroed in on him -- although he tried his best to keep a composed expression on his face. however, his face dropped once naomi started to yell and pound on the hood of the van. " whoa! hey! hey! hey! naomi, what the fuck? don't fucking do that!" he shouted back as he approached the girl, losing his composure a bit at witnessing his prized possession get hit, "whatever's wrong with it, that's not going to help." cristian grabbed naomi's wrists and stopped her hands from damaging the van any further. "let me see," he huffed irritatedly as he gave naomi a sour glare and popped open the hood of the car.

naomi.

"don't tell me what to do. you know you should really make sure everything is working before the trips because somehow the van always stops working when we need it, cristian. my best friend is dying, a serial killer is on the loose and i have so many mosquito bites on my arms and legs it looks like i was in a mosquito gangbang— and i don't even know what that looks like." she says everything too fast and her voice cracks, she's going to start crying again. "and daniel thinks it's all going to be okay but it's not and everyone else is freaking out... why did elijah bring his cat and why can't we all just! have a normal camping trip without having to worry about dying, missing pets or our fucking mosquito repellent not working?! so if you'll excuse me i'm going to throw up in that bush over there and if i get lucky enough, there might be posion ivy over there too because why wouldn't there be?!" she laughs through her tears even though there's nothing humorous about the situation.(edited)

nathan.

nathan felt bile in his own stomach start to rise at the mention of vomit. he took a deep breath, shutting his eyes tightly, "uh youre not going to those bushes without a buddy, young woman." poison ivy, tippi, the van, and a killer would be the least of their worries if naomi got attacked by an animal (or person) if she wandered off alone. "can someone go with her?" he asked to no one in particular.

micah.

micah was at least used to naomi's rambling. he held up a hand to nathan, hoping to somehow convey that this was the most normal thing that had happened tonight. "naomi, seriously, breathe. you're going to hyperventilate. lana's not dying. she just fainted." he didn't know why, but at least he knew she wasn't dead. (unfortunately.) "trust me, she doesn't die that easy. i've tried." kimi tried to hide both her blooming annoyance and fear, and elected to ignore micah's confession to attempted murder(??) "guys, we all need to calm down. the guy can't get us. we outnumber him anyway, right? it's, like, twenty of us against one. we can find eli's cat, and hike back to the hotel if we need to. just..." she left the sentence open-ended, unsure of what else she could say.

cristian.

raising his brows in offence, cristian stopped looking at the mechanics of the van for a moment and shifted back to naomi at his side. “wow, okay, fuck me then, huh? for your information, princess, i did check if everything was working! not everything is my fucking fault!” he snapped, letting all notions of wanting to stay calm fly out the window. he exhaled deeply, visibly annoyed with how everything was going down, before turning back to the car and examining it thoroughly. what he saw was a mess -- just a bunch of different wires cut in different locations. cristian almost wanted to laugh. “ yeah, well, this is fucked, ” he shook his head.

julian.

“if we can’t leave in the van,” from the ground, julian glared up at cristian, “then we’re staying put. we can’t even go anywhere until lana wakes up. and i doubt she’ll be in any shape to hike.” julian had to actually make sure the girl was still breathing once or twice, growing more and more worried as she continued to lay unconscious.

zachary.

zach had registered all of the chaos that was unravelling before the team. it wasn’t overwhelming in the slightest. in hindsight, even, he reasoned that he had dealt with much more imminent dangers than they seemed to be experiencing. everyone was getting tangled up in the “what ifs.” it was normal of large parties like theirs. when naomi started fuming and cristian returned the sentiment, taking her by the wrists, zach took a cautious step toward them. micah’s sentiment was appreciated—anything to diffuse the situation was worthwhile at this point. but when cristian began to go off, “don’t fucking patronize her like that. and it’s no one’s fucking fault. no one here has anything substantial to go on right now, so just take a second to breathe or meditate or whatever it is you need to do.” when julian spoke up, it was as though the atmosphere had become infinitesmillay more reasonable. “i agree. we’re not being chased right now. if need be, we can rotate taking watch or some shit throughout the night.”

daniel.

daniel made his way over to cris. although he didn't know shit about cars, even he could tell that the van was useless. "no, cris. it's not your fault," he said as he closed the hood. no one else needed to see the cut wires and worry more. "c'mon guys, let's just take a seat and calm down." he led cris and naomi back to the fire, passing naomi off to zach, maybe he could calm her down. "yeah, julian's right. we stay here tonight. nothing bad's gonna happen. first thing tomorrow morning i'll go find service and call someone. we'll be fine." maybe if he said it enough times he'd believe it.

lana.

slowly regaining consciousness, lana began to hear everyone’s muffled voices. she didn’t dare to open her eyes yet, since the pounding of her head made it too difficult to do so. she didn’t remember fainting, but she quickly remembered what happened right before. which led her to groan out loud, “okay. who the hell knocked me out?” she was too afraid to look at who was around her but she spoke anyway.

nathan.

a sigh of relief came from the eldest, "oh thank fucking god." nathan placed his face in his hands, relieved that he didnt have to explain to the university why a student died on his watch. "no one knocked you out, lana. you passed out. though, i want to knock you out for scaring the shit out of us all." he sighed, "but, youre not dead. so im thankful. do you need water?"

julian.

hearing the girl’s oh so familiar annoyed tone, julian looked down to lana. “stay down, lana. just take it easy…” he listened to nathan, nodding along to him. "does your head hurt at all?" from his position right next to her on the ground, he tried to look at her head, but couldn't see much in the dark.

kimberly.

"i'll go find some water," kimi offered, ready to get away from the group. their paranoia was no longer contagious, it was just annoying. "i have some pain pills in my tent, too." she probably didn't, but if it gave her a bit of space, she would lie her ass off, more so than usual. this relationship drama was old, and she couldn't care for lana on her best days, let alone one like this.

lana.

“no, no,” as she spoke, she felt her cheek tingling. “i just need everyone to not touch me,” lana brought her hand up to feel the side of her face. “you’re sure no one knocked me out? why does it feel like it?” her throat was dry, causing her voice to be seemingly more raspy. she wasn’t sure how long she was out for or what happened once she did. frankly, she was afraid to ask.

julian.

"you might have hit your head hard on the way down," he tried to theorize, but wasn't sure. now that she was awake and alert, he inched back a bit, giving the girl some more space. he turned to where kimi was, waiting for the water. "i don't think anyone saw you get hit." he said, trying to give her some comfort.

kimberly.

kimberly had all of ten seconds to herself. with her back to the group, she let her facade drop. it was almost like art, watching such pretty perfection morph into something so ugly and hateful. her stride took on a new sort of bounce. the others wouldn't have noticed, of course; they didn't know kimberly. not really. but she felt more in her element with eyes off of her. she slipped into her tent and let out a quiet groan of frustration. "this fucking team," she murmured, rooting through her bags for water. there was a bottle of pain pills right on the top, but she pushed it aside. she grabbed a water bottle. she'd brought at least a dozen, not just for herself, but for anyone else who might've forgotten to bring one. most of them were full, but she grabbed a half empty one, before rising back to her feet. she breathed deep, putting back on her mask. when she walked outside, her face was the picture of worry as she rushed to lana's side. she handed the water bottle to julian with a remorseful expression. "this was the only bottle i could find, i'm sorry. and my pills went missing. has anyone seen them?" it was hardly important, but she felt the need to ask anyway, if only to cover her bases.

micah.

micah let out a sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. it was a bad idea, considering it felt like he'd just hit himself with his cast, but it felt appropriate. "let's just... go to bed." he looked around at the group of misfit toys. and he thought he had troubles at home. "sleeping in the van might be a good idea after all. don't worry, i'll keep watch."

honorable mentions:

#event » 004.#i reread all of this 1000000000 times and its still the funniest thing

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pijinns · 7 years

Text

the richter scale // laughing gas

A comedian lays atop his work exhausted and discouraged. His pen had clattered to the floor many hours ago; and he found no point in picking it up and starting anew. The page beneath his shiny forehead displayed only three lines of an unfinished stand-up. His mind was nearly as blank as the paper, and he grew more frustrated by the minute. What would these rich folks find funny? Famine? Disease? Poverty?

It didn’t matter whether the content the comedian presented would be what most would consider “morally correct”. For one, if he had tried being “morally correct” from the beginning, then the audience wouldn’t even chuckle. That, essentially, was the point in humor. To ridicule serious matters, and make them seem far off and insignificant. However, any comedian always treaded upon thin ice depending on whom he presented his work to. For instance, if he presents his work ridiculing topics such as famine to the poor, they would be more likely to deck the man than pay him his due amount. Fortunately, most comedians didn’t bother with poor people; they didn’t have much money to begin with, so what would the point be in entertaining them? After all, comedy wasn’t a field that profited off of charity.

Alas, most venturing in the field of comedy didn’t possess the creativity or genuineness of a natural jester. As a result, they usually ended up stuck in old, run-down clubs full of drunkards. Drunkards with pockets that didn’t bulge with cash. And it made them sad to realize then that only the talented jesters got into the high-end clubs. The ones whose second nature was making people laugh. The ones who could turn any situation into something hilarious despite the circumstances. The ones who were actually able to make a living off of being funny. These ones were the lucky ones.

But with luck being a fickle thing, the majority didn’t end up too fortunate. And yet, most starting out in the field prepared themselves to present their monologues to the rich. Particularly this comedian before us, whose head lay upon the rickety desk as discouragement ate away at him. He knew that it wasn’t easy to get into those clubs the rich fancied;he knew he had to be good. But with his childish naivety came the hope that he thought his audition would be good enough. Furthermore, he figured slacking off, even if it may be for a while, was acceptable. He should only work when feeling inspired, no? In the end, as long as he finished his stand ups, anything went! Why would it matter whether he decided on June the 3rd, to take a three hour long break or to keep working?Plus, there was no reason for the poor little guy to worry his ass off. Being funny couldn’t be that hard,could it?

So there he lay, on the verge of falling asleep, with materialistic fantasies invading his subconscious. Oh, when he gets this job, he’ll finally be able to afford his wife’s medi and still have money left over to stash in his practically empty savings account. He’d be able to go out with his friends at last , be able to get drunk on special occasions. Rather than paying his daughter’s homeschooler at the end of each month a watered down, pitiful salary,he’d finally be able to pay her what she deserved, at the end of every two weeks as he was supposed to do. Maybe when his wife gets better-which she will once he gets this job, then perhaps he could begin to send his daughter ,Micah, to school. There would be no point in trapping her in the house after her mother had gotten better, for the point in homeschooling in the first place was for Micah to learn and take care of her mother at the same time.

While his wife had been the main driving force behind his unfaltering determination to get a job, Micah had been another large factor why he needed it. She, at the moment, had been the primary caretaker for his wife. From feeding her to bathing her, Micah did it all. Of course, it was far from easy, but the man didn’t have any other options. He hated that things fell the way they did, and felt a terrible pang of guilt whenever he would come home to find Micah fast asleep on the couch. The bags under her eyes would be a deep purple, and every time she walked her gait would grow more lopsided by the day. Her bones would crack too many times to be considered healthy for a 16 year old girl. And he’d seen her on numerous occasions taking pain meds (presumably) for her aching joints. He wanted to help her; to reach out to her and tell her that everything would be okay, but even he wasn’t sure of that notion.

How could he be sure? After he’d gotten used to juggling three jobs dangerously , promises became a thing of the past. He simply couldn’t be bothered with them. All that he could be bothered with was the thickness of his wallet at the end of each week. Which, admittedly, was terribly thin. On-the-verge of resorting to mooch off of his savings thin. It didn’t help that every time he visited the grocery store he had to calculate which loaf of bread he could afford to purchase down to the last cent, or if he could buy two cartons-not gallons, mind you-but cartons of milk. Don’t forget the eggs. Eggs were like pure gold to the man-inexpensive and filling. They were what he ate for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Gas prices were also climbing steadily. God forbid he’d have to start riding his bike to work. Adding on to the man’s fear, it wasn’t uncommon for bikers to get ran over, especially in big cities like Denver. Oh,no, he couldn’t stand to think like that. He couldn’t. He couldn’t.

But it wouldn’t come to that. These days were approaching their inevitable end rather quickly, much to the comedian’s glee. Soon, once he got this job, he would be able to afford to buy meat, veggies and fruit again. The nutrients his malnourished body had been craving since the dawn of time would be fulfilled. He wouldn’t need to worry about how much his wife’s meds would cost anymore. He wouldn’t need to ride his faulty bike to work. He wouldn’t have his daughter homeschooled any longer. Because he would get this job.

It was only a matter of time.

-SECTION ONE CONCLUDED/SECTION TWO BEGINS-

He shifted in his stiff tuxedo, wishing to be rid of the job he once loved. The audience wasn’t interested in what he had to say, their laughs felt forced and that, above all things, made Heath extremely anxious. Heath supposed he couldn’t blame his audience. They were as deep on their cups as they could get. They laughed at a man who shifted in his chair, or the way the ceiling fan rotated in lazily circles. Yes, it got to be extremely irritating whenever they laughed before he finished a joke, but he couldn’t help feeling just a tiny bit grateful that the bartender, Rory, had pitifully slipped a bit of tequila into everyone’s drink.

To give them a happy kick, a bubbly edge.

Not for the sake of the customers, but for Heath’s. Poor guy just wasn’t funny. He’d pour hours and hours over his skits and whatnot, but to of no avail. He liked to think his humor had a sharp, cynical quality to it. To make himself feel better he’d repeat in his head that he always got stuck with the dull, stupid audience,and that’s why they never truly laughed at him. His humor wasn’t bad. It was them, not him.

Despite Heath’s derogatory mindset, he found himself envying his audience with their shameless barks of laughter. If only his demeanor could be that easy, that carefree. If he’d loosened up a bit, he remembered other club owners telling him time and time again, then perhaps he’d actually have a chance at stand-up comedy. But go on now, they’d say, shooing the man away with their fair, unscathed hand. Go find another place to audition, I’m not taking you. See, your humor isn’t anything new. The majority are about poor people, sprinkled in with some about race and women. It’s bland. It’s boring. And anyone could think of these.

They’d crumpled the hard copy of the skit Heath had handed them and tossed it in a neighboring garbage can.

Yeesh, those rich folks were as harsh as they got.

He now looked about the empty mugs, chutes and wine glasses adorning the beaten oak tables. One more thing to envy his audience of. If only he could have one drink, just one, then this night wouldn’t be so painful. His creativity would thrive in the spur of the moment and his jokes would sound genuine, even raw for a change. He’d loosen up for sure, and maybe his audience would spit screeching, hysterical laughter at him. Ah, they'd start to pay him more and eventually word would get out that Heath Carol was the best comedian in town. Heath Carol-nobody by day, witty comedian by night. If only he could loosen up. The audience now looked upon him with both impatience and exasperation, and a drunkard slammed his empty mug on the table. Heath jumped back, lifting his clenched hands to rest beneath his chin in an act of cowardice. He tried disguising the way he cowered from the microphone by faking a whooping cough. Now there was a chorus of laughter. “Boy can't even tell a joke without wantin ta run away like a lil’ bitch!" Another uproar of snickers. Heath’s body shook, not from fear anymore, but anger. He gripped the sweat slicked microphone stand and cleared his throat. His eyes darted around the nearly empty joint in an attempt to scrutinize every damned idiot in the club and his eyes snagged when coming into contact with the portly club owner’s. They were shrewd and mean. In that one moment Heath had looked him in the eye (unintentionally of course) all of the anger had been drained out of him and a surge of fear was pumped through him, as though the club owner was a nurse registering the IV and him being the comatose patient. His cruel little eyes conveyed one message thoroughly. Last chance, Carol. This was his last chance. He began his next joke reluctantly. But his mind ventured somewhere else, falling down a pit Heath liked to call ‘The Ditch of Doubt’. What would happen after his audience filtered out of the club? He’d definitely have a talk with the club owner, Mr. Lainey, although the end result of him being fired was unimaginable. He couldn’t be fired and he wouldn’t be fired! The mere thought of it triggered dark, sepia colored images of him and Micah begging on the street, an upturned fedora beside them hungry for cash. Micah would be playing her piccolo, and he would be tugging at a woman’s purse or the hem of a man’s coat. Ma’am, ma’am! Please! My daughter’s starving! A disinterested glance. She doesn’t deserve this! She didn’t ask for this! A purse now clutched against a woman’s chest. One dollar-anything. Anything’ll help. Her mouth opened and closed as if she had swallowed what she’d intended to say. My wife is dead, and my job doesn’t provide social security benefits. God forbid, what would you do if your husband died? Ma’am, ma’am! But she had already turned her back towards the beggars and walked away with haughty belligerence.

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