Quastari - ☆

♡ for some memes or perhaps a starter

will riker tag drop.

it was never common practice to ask for details when arthur was getting paid for a job. in his experience, FEWER details made the job easier. & frankly, he did not care to know the circumstances - only how much it paid.

escorting a bride-to-be across statelines was among his more duller jobs to date. the details were not something he spent much time thinking on.

the door is kicked shut with enough force to wobble on its rusting hinges, & arthur's long sigh follows like a low rumble of thunder. the pay of bringing her to her wedding was HANDSOME enough - this ain't too far from bounty-hunting, come to think of it.

❝ perhaps you would prefer sleeping outside in the dirt, princess, ❞ arthur mutters out, giving a shake of his head. ❝ nah, trust me - the first place them bounty hunters will check is the fancy hotel. we're better off here. ❞

he falls into a wooden chair in the corner of the room, offering hope baxter as much space as the room would allow. if arthur wasn't so wound up, perhaps the reality of being ALONE in a hotel room with a women would be more apparent.

a small, admittedly quite mortified, ❝ 𝒐𝒉 . ❞ is all she manages for a bit as the realization of what he is saying settles in her mind . in all of her sheltered naiveté of course she hadn't considered that , yet another reminder that there is terrifyingly 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 she knows about the world beyond her daddy's church doors.

embarrassment rises hot into her cheeks. it was bad enough to feel ignorant, oblivious to the uncensored reality arthur has been steeped in all of his life - but the cacophony of debauchery seeping through the thin walls merely serves to rub salt into the wound. He was 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, & she was becoming increasingly certain this world would eat her up alive if it weren't for him.

hope follows closer behind, trying her best to ignore how her mind 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 dangerously - the sounds don't help, neither does the thought of what these rooms were typically for . Especially unhelpful is the way his frame dwarfs her own , taking up so much of the little space available to them in this narrow hallway . . .

it's also not lost on her that if she hadn't gotten cold feet, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 would have been her wedding night.

❝ alright, alright - i catch your drift, cowboy,❞ she concedes, hoping that will get him off her back for a moment at least.

entering the room they had been given for the night, there is no hiding the crinkle of her freckled nose at the state of it. of course, being thoroughly humbled by their exchange in the hall - among many other times since he had ridden into her life - she keeps her mouth shut.

hope hovers for a moment, frozen - unsure how to relax in such . . . 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 accommodations. she doesn't hesitate long, opting to teeter on the edge of a portion of the mattress free of any questionable stains.

❝ not sure how comfortable i can get . . . considerin' the circumstances,❞ she huffs, an attempt at a joke to ease the growing tension as it suddenly dawns on her that the room is woefully sparse - only one bed for the two of them.

she swallows, 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃. it's going to be a very long night.

@strcys asked: "I hope you like spicy food!" for will !!! hi !!!

" just how spicy are we talking? "

the question is followed by a teasing smirk & a tilt of his head. will riker was no stranger to PUSHING his own limits - the question was less genuine & more of an invitation.

BARRY SLOANE as Joe 'Bear' Graves in SIX (2017—2018) Episode 2.02 Ghosts

ray tag drop.

part of arthur expected hope to reject his idea. scoff at the idea that a high-society girl like her should DEVOLVE into the hobbies of an outlaw like him. but that was just a brief flash of a dreadful fantasy - one arthur had partly hoped would come true before remembering who hope baxter was.

& even if she said no .... well, arthur couldn't quite rid his mind of the image of her holding his revolver with quivering hands. he'd looked over to her as soon as the shot rang out, half-expecting to see her body crumble to the dirt. instead, hope was quickly regaining control of the gun - eyes wide & chest heaving with FEARFUL adrenaline.

arthur would much rather see the latter, should this happen again.

❝ a'ight ... well, good. you gotta be able to PROTECT yourself. we had a close call - next time, we might not be so lucky. ❞

his voice rumbles out - as hard & serious as looming thunder. all the girls in the gang knew how to shoot, at least. he'd taught tilly himself. it should be no different.

with a jerk of his head, arthur leads away from camp & the river toward a tall, thick oak in the middle of a clearing. he makes his way over, pulling out his hunting knife & a rag as he goes. in one quick move, he impales the rag against the trunk of the tree at head height.

❝ there's your target, ❞ he says, unsheathing his revolver as he returns to hope's side. ❝ now, a shot in the shoulder is a good start. but if your life's in danger, you gotta give 'em somethin' more permanent. ❞

finally  he  looks  up  ,  &  if  her  heart  had  been  straining  before  she's  pretty  sure  it  just  𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑫  .

she's  not  an  idiot  ,  hope  knows  that  her  hired  chaperone  isn't  remotely  like  any  of  the  pious  law-abiding  gentleman  from  back  home  (  &  despite  herself  ,  that's  exactly  what  intrigues  her  so  much  about  him  )  .  he's  seen  things  ,  certainly  done  things  she  can't  even  imagine  .  even  so  ,  she  just  can't  ignore  her  instincts  .  there's  𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆  to  mr  .  morgan  than  his  circumstances  dictate  ,  &  the  tragedy  of  it  all  is  that  he's  so  damn  sure  there  isn't  .

hope  isn't  exactly  known  for  her  𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑻  ,  &  as  much  as  it  pains  her  ,  now  isn't  the  time  to  get  into  it  .  still  ,  she  tucks  away  his  reaction  to  her  reassurance  ,  choosing  to  voice  her  convictions  at  another  time  .

allowing  him  to shy  away  from  her  absolution  ,  she  quickly  picks  up  what  he  is  putting  down  &  visibly  perks  up  at  the  offer  .  it  shouldn't  excite  her  so  much  ,  but  the  prospect  of  learning  something  new  ,  something  so  𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒚  contradictory  to  everything  she's  ever  been  taught  to  be  .  .  .  just  the  concept  has  an  eagerness  bubbling  up  inside  her  chest  .  ❝  -  really  ,  y'mean  it  ?  ❞

realistically,  when  would  she  ever  get  an  opportunity  like  this  again  ?  in  a  couple  of  weeks  she'll  be  stuck  in  this  role  that  has  been  written  for  her  .  her  whole  life  she  has  felt  caged  ,  wings  𝑪𝑹𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑮  under  the  desire  to  spread  them  wide  &  fly  far  .  soon  they  will  be  clipped  forever  ,  &  she's  never  even  gotten  off  the  ground  .  a  tightness  forms  in  her  throat  that  she  tries  to  ignore  ,  to  shove  down  &  bury  deep  .

this  is  all  for  her  family  ,  she  has  to  keep  reminding  herself  of  that  .  they  have  so  little  left  .  this  marriage  is  the  only  way  forward  .  the  only  one  she's  ever  known  ,  anyway  .  never  once  has  she  veered  from  the  path  laid  out  before  her  .  .  .  𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈  her  own  had  never  occurred  to  her  ,  it  wasn't  even  a  possibility  .

until  now  .

❝  that  would  be  -  i  mean  ,  just  .  .  .  ❞  now  it's  her  turn  to  babble  ,  she  stops  herself ,  shaking  her  head  at  her  own  overzealousness  .  don't  make  him  regret  this  ,  hope  .  ❝  -  yes  ,  ❞  she  finally  manages  , offering him a grateful smile . 

❝  that  sounds  like  a  𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻  idea  .  ❞

     ❝ it was a bear, alright. hungry one at that, ❞ is barrett's rumbled reply. with the shelving now upright, he could make out faint scours of claw marks etching the metal. tufts of fur sticking out of crooks in the corners. but aside from all the physical signs, the room simply REEKED of the creature.

     an adult male. black bear, maybe. stinking lightly of garbage when it went scavenging for a meal. he was only here for ten minutes, if that. gone for a couple hours.

     barrett's brow twitches when he inspects the cabinets. unlike daniil, a stab of SYMPATHY hit him in his gut. hunger was something barrett understood very well.

     ❝ why so much morphine, doc ? ❞ barrett casually rumbles out as he approaches the broken vials of the drug.

"The state of a bear isn't my foremost concern," Daniil shoots back, carefully sweeping away the glass shards from his shattered equipment. True to form, all he can think about is the money wasted—some of the broken instruments had come directly from the last days of Thanatica.

Barrett's help is appreciated, but he's not the sort of person who would understand the terrible miasma of frustration and apathetic concession Daniil can't help but feel, looking at the minor carnage in his lab. It feels, in the moment, like he lives a doomed life—all progress will inevitably and invariably be halted by some outside force that wishes him and his research to meet its swift end.

An ill twist of fate; he'd call it that, if he believed in fate. As it stands, Daniil knows he's only unlucky.

"But if you are indeed right about the perpetrator being a bear, it almost definitely got into the morphine," a downward quirk of the lip as further antsy frustration pulls at him, "and the fentanyl, judging by the state of my cabinets. Even half of what I was storing would be lethal for a human, and it'll be about as costly to replace as an arm and a leg."

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