theharveywalker

[theharveywalker]

[theharveywalker]

[theharveywalker]

[theharveywalker]

Main Street, Deadwood, South Dakota, 1876

[theharveywalker]

[theharveywalker]

moon-shiines‌:

The dishes are washed, the laundry is drying, and everyone seems to be calm. These evenings with the hounds have always been her favorite, the sweetly simple sunsets that bleed into nighttimes and the way an onlooker could almost mistake them for nothing more than a big family. Nobody hurt and needing help or rambling on about horse thieving and debauchery, just a campfire lighting up gently familiar faces as the sun begins to dip beneath the treeline. Internally she attempts to snap a photograph, to save this scene in the back of her mind to revisit on a rainy day. 

Most everyone who had earlier crowded around the campfire, no doubt trying for seconds of whatever it was Mami made for dinner, had either turned in to their tents for the evening or busied themselves with tasks around camp. Harvey remained though, face illuminated by the golden glow of glittering embers. Willa pulls the shawl around her shoulders ever so slightly tighter and moves to sit net to him – he looks like he could use the company.

“Town? I’d love to!” The exclamation leaves her lips like a bullet from a gun before she has time to stop them. “Where are we going to go?” 

harvey normally wouldn’t invite one of the ladies out to town, especially on business, but miss willa moon was better company than half of the gang would be. he knew she wouldn’t provoke trouble, other than the trouble that sometimes befell her but it’d not be anything he couldn’t handle. he probably would’ve made more trouble on his own anyway.

he revealed a friendly, toothless smile and asked, “where else to put our nose in people’s affairs than the saloon? we’ll need to be on our toes at all times. hope’s crossing can be rugged and especially to a pretty lady such as yourself. we’re listening for whispers of places or people we can... well, rob. think you can handle it miss willa moon?” 

[theharveywalker]

status: open location: bear-tooth ridge, main campfire time: mid january, evening 

the sun, scarcely visible, boasted a mix of blue fading into rose, golden and navy colors traversing a closing sky. camp was quiet beside a lull of gang members scattered around the camp chatting in low voices. 

meanwhile, alone, harvey sat gravely on a barrel close to the campfire smoking a cigarette while ruminating what to do next. joseph had made it clear that they needed to provide soon. people were hungry and they all had very shallow pockets. 

he thought about his former gang in his youth that had once partly depended on him to keep their asses alive. if they were in this position, they’d want to recklessly rob a homestead of an extravagantly wealthy family. but harvey was young and stupid when he was a part of that gang while he ignorantly thought himself a public hero. serving impulsive ideas and short-lived prosperity, that only paid for weeks of bliss with years of distress. he used to steal from those with too much in order to give much to those with too little. but after so much tension and so many gunfights, years have passed and harvey is older now. he now just robs for him and his gang. 

he hopes now to find leads may be of a wealthy carriage heading somewhere isolated in hopes to rob them quietly. the town hadn’t recognized him as a dangerous man yet, so maybe he’d find a decent bounty poster. the legal route was typically the preference for harvey, but doesn’t care if it turns sour. this was good for at least when they weren’t doing one of their more risky jobs. 

someone joined him by the campfire. their presence brought him out of his thoughts so he nodded towards them and stated, “i’m going into town to look for business.” he paused to put out his cigarette with the bottom of his boot. “would you like to come?”

[theharveywalker]

First Journal Entry, January 1899

i bought this journal a while ago. haven’t really written in it, but i intend to pick it up now and then.

i joined the hellhounds a way back. i can’t seem to recall how long i’ve been with them now, but i reckon more than a few years. they’ve been decent to me ever since they pulled me up from the ground. only a sorry beaten pile of blood and bones. i’m still amazed they didn’t just kill me. i didn’t trust them for a while, but they fed me to health. wouldn’t’ve made it if they hadn’t been there… at the right place, at the right time.

mother, i hope you found that heaven you’ve always talked about. i'm afraid i won’t see you there, if there even is such a place. i think about gabriela every day.  i'm a wretched soul. you always said i'd 'offend’ the wrong man and end up dead, and i’d have asked for it. Well, i've done a few of those things. not quite dead yet. you also said i was a lot like my father. i didn’t see it then…

well, anyway, after the gang rescued me, i observed them while helping them for a while until i finally trusted them. i told them i had a price on my head for stealing, murdering, avoiding the law. they laughed, handed me a drink. then we went and stole, murdered, and avoided the law some more. finally paid off my bounty though. thanks to all those people killed. they weren’t good people, but i don’t well know if they deserved to die like that. i guess as long as me and the people i now consider family don’t get killed, it won’t weigh too heavily on my shoulders.

the camp is hidden enough. it’s alright but a whole lot better than camping alone. don’t fear getting killed in my sleep as much. we have a few wagons that carry our basic needs - food, medicine, ammo. the people are my family now. we’re a crowd, but we depend on one another. we got ourselves a high bounty in eden and diamond peak, so we’re not traveling there as of now.

we’re needing food and money mostly. i’ll head to hope’s crossing for some leads - hunt some deer on the way back. everyone’s hungry, and we get lower on food every day. i’ll do what i can to get things looking up soon.

[theharveywalker]

his thoughts were agitated as he stirred about the camp, grabbing his wide-brimmed hat and a half piece of bread. here and there nodding to people, he marched his body over towards his raven horse, still saddled from before. harvey, in one smooth swoop, got onto his horse and patted its dark mane. he swept a hair out of his face and placed the hat securely on. 

well aware of the state he and his friends were in harvey needed to feel like they were on their way someplace better. he trusted they were, but he wouldn’t be settled until he had a few ideas of his own to contribute. harvey was not a man of leisure and did not like to wait around watching the sunset. 

as he casually urged his horse along, now near the edge of camp, harvey noticed a heap of something on the dirt and grass. usually he’d just glance and keep on riding, but the mound seemed to grunt and turned to lean on its side. he pulled back the reins when he was close enough, and a little smirk developed on his dirt-smudged face. 

“look, i know you’re getting old, but i didn’t think we’d be burying you next sunrise.” he trailed off, tossing him a cloth from the inside of his jacket. he hopped off his horse and leaned down toward him, thinking arthur wouldn’t be all too pleased with his crack. 

STARTER: open LOCATION: nearing the outer edge of camp, beside a tree

SHAME CAME in many forms, and arthur had gotten to know most of them in some way or other, but this kind, hurt in a blazing second place, “i’m just fine,” a gash along his right calf, long and crimson like a late horizon line. now, he’s no stranger to patching up his own damage, but he’s no doctor either whether he likes the fact or not  — it seemed a blink, a turn of his head at the wrong time paired with a minor misstep would send him down a rocky pile, crashing and burning. he finds a specific sort of ANGER for the other bubbling in his stomach for paying him any attention. whether it’s unfair and hostile was beyond him right then, he’s his father’s son whether he likes it or not; his pride would be both his fiercest weapon and his cruelest weakness. 

he shifts on his weight with a quiet groan, a hiss, sat with one leg pulled to his chest and the wounded lying straight. he looks at what ailed him with a scrunched expression, pain evident in his aged features, a sort of creasing concern keeping the space between his brows tight and focused. even in realization of the injury’s potential gravity, the words he spoke felt like spit on his cheek, “..wouldn’t happen t’have a clean cloth on you, would you?”

[theharveywalker]

Harvey Walker - Born 1858 - 41 years old

[theharveywalker]

Red Dead Redemption 2

❝  America, 1899. The end of the wild west era has begun as lawmen hunt down the last remaining outlaw gangs. Those who will not surrender or succumb are killed. ❞

[theharveywalker]

Hello all! I’m Alexa and I’m so excited to start I probably won’t be able to sleep much! Alas, I work a good ‘ol 9-5 and it’s midnight here (EST). I’ll be on tomorrow and check in on my phone!! <3 

PS. IDK how the OOC stuff works in this RP yet so I did this thang until I know otherwise :)

[theharveywalker]

© SHOWTIME Penny Dreadful instagram 

[theharveywalker]

[theharveywalker]

[theharveywalker]

I’m worried my path is coming to an end.