Quastari - ☆

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013) Dir. Francis Lawrence

ARE YOU DEAD ? sometimes i think 𝙞'𝙢 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙 cause i can feel ghosts & ghouls wrapping my head

If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment, I would do it all over again.

Joel Miller in THE LAST OF US PART II (2020)

Josh Hutcherson as Peeta Mellark The Hunger Games (2012)

“The only wrinkly monster who harasses MY family is ME!”

QUASTARI ; a mostly canon multimuse with a few ocs sprinkled in. private & low-activity.

FEATURING MUSES FROM ; star trek, rdr2, daredevil, gravity falls, & more!

      this bar was just about the same as any other arthur has ever been to. patched up holes in the walls, flickering lights, mucked up floor from years of dirty boots & tobacco & dried blood. a offensively STALE smell hung in the air that would've had arthur wrinkling his nose in disgust if he weren't already used to bad smells.

      perhaps due to hope baxter. he does not know if she brought along a bottle of that FANCY perfume the girls at camp are always raving about. or maybe that's just how she smells - like the treats arthur used to steal from a bakery stand when he was a boy. when he turns his head towards hope, he almost feels sixteen again. stuffing his face with a warm biscuit while dutch laughs & pats his shoulder in approval.

      ❝ what i'd do ? what, like be a FANCY banker or lawyer ? ❞ arthur answers with a laugh, bringing up his glass to down the rest of his whiskey. ❝ or- or a lawman ? somethin' like that ? ❞ there's another short laugh. it rumbles in his chest as he shakes his head.

      arthur reclines back in his wooden chair, taking the chance to scan the room once again. he's been keeping his eyes on a particular guy in the corner - clad in dark clothes with a hat that goes over his eyes & arthur has been trying to decide if he was a THREAT or not. a drifter or a hunter. he caught a look at the man's hands when he bought a beer - large & rough & scarred. it was too easy to imagine him snatching hope right out from under him.

      the brief moment of consideration passes before arthur's gaze returns to the woman beside him. he noticed how tightly her fingers grip her skirts. wonders why she seems all wound up when coming her was her idea.

      ❝ look, ❞ arthur continues, leaning just a little closer, ❝ fella like me don't get a lotta choices in life. my momma died real young. my father was an even WORSE man than me, if you can believe it. all things considered, i coulda made a whole lot worse choices. ❞

      & then something dawns on him. a reason why miss hope was asking a question like this. she wasn't like bill - a fool who asks dumb questions for no reason.

      he catches another whiff of her. it makes him lower his hat over his eyes & pull back. that helps him think a little clearer. ❝ ... what 'bout you ? ❞

hope  completely  understood  his  hesitance  when  she'd  requested  this  small  reprieve ,  she  even  assured  him  that  she  knows  this  is  stupid  .  .  .  but  she  was  losing  her  mind  sitting  in  𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬  ,  crammed  into  that  tiny  room  with  him  .  unbeknownst  to  arthur  ,  this  was  actually  one  of  the  less  risky  options  for  stimulation  her  wandering  mind  had  concocted  .  the  rest  ?  well  ,  they  weren't  exactly  decent  thoughts  -  &  would  only  serve  to  complicate  things  further  . 

the  way  he's  caged  her  into  this  corner  of  the  establishment  all  by  their  lonesome  is causing  something  new  &  warm  to  stir  within  her,  certainly  not  helping  her  with  fighting  these  devilish  thoughts.  all  her  life  she's  been  warned  of  this  exact  feeling,  to  never  let  a  man  overrule  her  devotion  to  the  lord  above   -  to  take  advantage  of  her  𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆  .  she'd  always  secretly  scoffed  at  the  notion  ,  that  her  faith  could  be  so  shakable  .

for  the  first  time  ,  she's  beginning  to  understand  the  𝑾𝑬𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻  of  their  cautionary  sermons  . 

but  arthur  ...  he  isn't  at  all  like  the  men  she's  been  taught  to  be  wary  of  .  well  ,  maybe  he  is  ,  sometimes  -  but  that's  not  all  there  is  to  him  .  the  outlaw  has  never  once  made  her  feel  uncomfortable  or  pressure  her  in  any  way  .  he's  always  kept  a  respectable  distance  ,  even  if  she  quietly  𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔  he  wouldn't  .  all  he's  ever  done  is  protect  her  ,  scaring  off  any  wasted  degenerate  that  so  much  as  looked  at  her  in  a  way  he  didn't  like  .  she's  been  protected  like  a  precious  jewel  all  of  her  life  ,  but  not  like  this  .  sure,  he's  being  well  paid  for  the  service  ,  very  well  paid  -  but  hope  is  sure  there's  something  else  contributing  to  his  steadfast  safeguarding  of  her  .  .  .

or  maybe  she's  just  𝑰𝑴𝑨𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮  things  she'd  like  to  be  true  .  it's  hard  to  say  with  how  little  he  gives  away  behind  that  ruggedly  handsome  countenance. 

her  gaze  drifts  past  his  broad  shoulder,  watching  the  bar's  other  inhabitants  with  the  𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓  of  a  girl  long  sheltered  from  the  world  .  this  is  just  about  the  first  saloon  she's  ever  been  inside  of  &  while  it's  exactly  the  sort  of  den  of  debauchery  she's  been  told  it  would  be  ,  similarly  to  her  traveling  companion  ,  there's  more  to  it  than  that  .

men  are  laughing  ,  smacking  each  other  on  the  back  in  camaraderie  &  singing  𝑩𝑶𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑳𝒀  along  to  a  slightly  out  of  tempo  piano  accompaniment  .  there  are  couples  scattered  about  too  ,  speaking  in  hushed  tones  -  smiling  ,  blushing  ,  &  exchanging  tentative  touches  .  in  fact  ,  the  two  of  them  probably  read  to  the  rest  of  the  room  as  exactly  that  :  a  man  &  a  woman  ,  just  getting  to  know  each  other  -  still  in  that shy  tentative  talking  stage  .

there's  a  𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌  there  ,  each  of  them  too  burdened  by  their  respective  albatrosses  ,  suffocating  them  of  the  oxygen  it  would  take  to  set  it  ablaze  .

❝  i  dunno  .  .  .  ❞  teeth  sink  into  her  bottom  lip  ,  sky  blue  gaze  flickering  back  to  meet  his  once  more  .  ❝  different  like  ,  having  𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑰𝑪𝑬𝑺  i  guess  .  getting  to  decide  who  you  want  to  be  ,  not  just  what  people  want  from  you  .  .  .  like  that  .  ❞  she  sets  down  her  empty  glass  ,  running  a  dainty  finger  idly  around  the  rim  .  ❝  any  idea  what  you'd  do  ?  ❞

ooc mun posting | memes | promo | wishlist | asks

jonathan archer visage | musings | headcanons | aesthetic | desires | audio open starters

barrett torbon visage | musings | headcanons | aesthetic | desires | audio open starters

arthur morgan visage | musings | headcanons | aesthetic | desires | audio open starters

will riker visage | musings | headcanons | aesthetic | desires | audio open starters

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kaidan alenko visage | musings | headcanons | aesthetic | desires | audio open starters

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joel miller visage | musings | headcanons | aesthetic | desires | audio open starters

     arthur's never . . . well, talking to women has never been a strong point of his. nor speaking in general, apart from little jabs that only serve to raise hackles & start brawls. a STRANGE shortcoming from a man raised by dutch van der linde & hosea matthews - two men whom arthur swears are hiding silver tongues behind smirking lips.

     his head lowers as hope moves past him, now addressing her pretty little mare in an echoed tease of his own words. a snort comes from him, head wobbling in DISBELIEF, before turning to follow her to where their horses are hitched.

     ❝ if we keep good time, should be there in just a couple weeks, ❞ arthur says as he starts rummaging through a saddlebag. ❝ ridin' all day, stayin' in small towns where no bounty hunters might not think to look. might even have to ROUGH it some nights. ❞

     a lantern is pulled from the leather pouch, which arthur flicks on to push away the nighttime blackness. the firelight, kept low & soft, dances across arthur's face to show his DEEP scowl. brows pulled tight together above a sharp, scrutinizing blue gaze. jaw clenched beneath a thick cover of facial hair that arthur didn't bother to clean up before taking this job.

                      ❝ that okay with you, princess ? ❞

her  approach  is  slow  ,  reluctant  -  but  not  for  the  reasons  he  may  think  .  what  arthur  perceives  as  the  expectant  steps  of  an  eager  bride  might  as  well  be  a  death  march  to  miss  baxter  -  &  yet  ,  she  still  does  her  best  to  offer  him  a  friendly  smile  at  the  conclusion  of  her  approach  .  this  is  usually  what  is  expected  of  her  ,  of  course  ,  to  be  nothing  but  docile  &  demure  .  a  mask  she's  grown  comfortable  hiding  behind  ,  one  that  she  𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔  will  make  a  good  first  impression  .  they  will  be  traveling  together  for  a  long  while  ,  after  all  -  she  would  like  to  set  a  positive  tone  for  the  journey  ahead  .

those  desires  are  quickly  dashed  .  her  lips  &  heart  both  drop  as  he  takes  that  warning  step  forward  ,  sky  blue  eyes  widening  &  chin  lifting  while  attempting  to  approximate  where  to  meet  his  gaze  draped  in  shadow  .  despite  his  𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮  frame  &  no-nonsense  attitude  ,  she  does  not  wilt  in  response  ,  choosing  to  hold  her  ground  in  spite  of  the  way  her  heart  picks  up  its  tempo  as  his  words  sink  in  .

she  knows  all  of  this  already  ,  her  father  may  not  have  afforded  her  all  of  the  details  -  but  she  has  been  informed  of  the  𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕  things  .  he  had  been  reluctant  to  send  her  off  with  someone  with  mr  .  morgan's  infamous  reputation  ,  but  they  had  been  left  with  little  choice  &  no  time  to  be  all  that  picky  about  it  .  anyway  ,  a  ruthless  protector  is  exactly  what  she  needs  in  the  face  of  those  who  wish  to  harm  her  .

arthur  doesn't  surprise  hope  at  all  in  his  initial  assessment  of  who  she  might  be  ,  it's  what  she's  used  to  &  she  makes  no  attempt  to  argue  -  𝑯𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹  ,  there  is  a  small  displeased  furrow  to  her  dark  brows  before  she  responds  .

❝  he  told  me  enough  ,  ❞  her  voice  is  light  &  distant  ,  switching  up  tactics  placing  a  wall  of  aloofness  between  them  .  to  his  conditions  ,  she  gives  a  small  dutiful  nod  ,  features  𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈  with  a  curt  ,  ❝  fine  .  ❞  she  moves  past  his  imposing  form  ,  choosing  to  focus  on  unhitching  her  horse's  reins  &  offering  some  gentle  affection  to  the  animal  before  they  take  off  .  as  if  addressing  her  trusted  mare  rather  than  arthur  ,  she  continues  with  a  new  &  lightly  indignant  edge  to  her  tone  ❝  -  we'll  be  sure  to  keep  the  frolicking  to  a  minimum  ,  won't  we  girl  ?  ❞