Espercr - Blog Posts

     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  ?  ❞

                         arthur spots her instantly.

     he doesn't move to intercept her. not yet. with an indigo sky bleeding into a WANING deep orange & gold lights that twinkle around & around, arthur takes just a moment to watch hope. he so rarely gets to see her - only a handful of days out of the year. even then, it's maybe just a couple hours where she isn't running around or laughing or cheering. seeing hope stroll casually about, with nothing to do but wait for him, was a nice change of pace.

     but soon, as always, arthur finds himself moving to be in her vicinity. pushing off the metal barrier & stalking through the crowd towards her. making sure her back stays facing him. arthur can't help himself - a smile tugs on his lips. anticipation of seeing her up close, mixed with a TWISTED amusement, nearly gives him away because he almost wants to laugh.

     she stops. he stops. her head turns slightly to the left & then the right - looking for him, arthur realizes. it makes him take two long strides closer to her, coming within arms reach of hope. by now, he's grinning. bounces on his toes once. LEANS closer to her. from anyone else's point of view, arthur might seem like some sort of creep.

     the fun is quickly overridden by his desire. he takes another step closer, right behind her shoulder. leans in close to her ear. the sweet smell of her threatens to strangle him but arthur doesn't need to speak so loudly where he stands so he's CONTENT to let it.

     ❝ lookin' for someone ? ❞

𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 ( accepting ! )

@quastari said : meet me at our spot tonight . ( from modern arthur )

❝  i'll  be  right  there  ,  mama  -  just  gotta  𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑪𝑲  on  somethin'  real  fast  .  .  .  ❞

prepping  for  the  annual  brightside  county  fair  is  quite  an  event  in  the  baxter  household  ,  akin  to  holidays  like  christmas  or  thanksgiving  .  everyone  wakes  up  early  ,  everyone  pitches  in  .  even  little  sister  faith  ,  who  is  begrudgingly  back  home  from  college  for  the  summer  ,  is  involved  -  albeit  her  help  is  accompanied  with  several  complaints  &  an  above-it-all  roll  of  her  eyes  .  hope's  father  is  packing  up  the  stand  they  use  every  year  ,  loading  its  aged  &  well-loved  wooden  components  into  the  back  of  the  family's  red  pickup  truck  for  the  short  journey  to  their  small  town's  fairgrounds  .  ardella  is  transporting  boxes  upon  boxes  of  sweet  treats  ,  breads  ,  preserves  ,  wildflower  honey  ,  fresh  produce  ,  chicken  eggs  ,  flowers  from  the  garden  .  .  .  a  𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒍  spread  of  the  rich  bounties  their  farm  has  to  offer  ,  lovingly  cultivated  to  be  shared  with  their  community  .  this  tradition  is  one  of  hope's  very  favorite  times  of  year  ,  a  time  of  togetherness  &  nostalgia  under  the  hot  tennessee  sun  .

so  much  has  changed  over  the  past  few  years  .  she  has  finally  opened  up  her  own  bakery  ,  in  brooklyn  no  less  .  a  few  years  ago  she  wouldn't  have  even  thought  it  possible  .  she'd  been  burnt  out  ,  drowning  between  waitressing  gigs  ,  her  shitty  ex  boyfriend  ,  &  culinary  school  .  but  every  obstacle  has  been  𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬  ,  now  hope  &  christina  are  left  to  reap  the  profits  from  what  they  have  laboriously  sowed  .  at  last  ,  hope  baxter  has  found  some  breathing  room  ,  &  her  chosen  reward  for  all  of  that  hard  work  is  a  trip  back  home  just  in  time  to  soak  up  the  southern  farming  town  charm  she's  been  missing  in  the  big  city  .  things  are  simpler  here  ,  quieter  .  it's  nice  to  know  that  even  when  everything  else  in  her  life  is  nothing  like  what  it  used  to  be  .  .  .

.  .  .  there  are  𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆  things  that  never  change  .

hope  slips  away  from  the  kitchen  ,  just  for  a  moment  -  as  promised  .  she  has  been  keeping  an  eye  on  her  phone  all  day  for  this  very  reason  .  &  finally  seeing  arthur's  name  pop  up  on  the  screen  fills  her  with  𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑻𝑯  .  like  any  other  part  of  these  yearly  festivities  ,  she  can  always  count  on  their  little  rendezvous  ,  &  he's  never  once  let  her  down  .  unlike  so  many  others  .  .  .

[  text  :  arthur  🐴❤️  ]  i'll  be  there  ;  )

she  replies  quickly  with  a  giddy  grin  ,  stuffing  the  phone  into  her  back  pocket  &  getting  right  back  to  business  .  it's  clear  to  the  whole  family  as  she  strides  across  the  front  lawn  with  more  crates  in  her  arms  ,  that  something  has  𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅  a  newfound  skip  in  her  step  ,  although  none  of  them  knows  why  .  a  girl  has  to  have  her  secrets  ,  after  all  .

before  she  knows  it  ,  the  sun  is  setting  on  the  first  of  the  three  days  during  which  the  fair  is  held  .  everything  goes  as  successfully  as  ever  .  in  high  demand  ,  the  baxter's  goods  sell  out  in  record  time  .  thankfully  there  is  always  plenty  more  .  ardella  is  a  smart  woman  &  well-seasoned  at  this  by  now  .  they  have  the  routine  all  down  to  a  𝑺𝑪𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬  , &  with  damien  taking  charge  to  keep  everything  on  track  ,  things  couldn't  go  smoother  .  the  height  of  their  sales  typically  peak  on  the  very  first  day  ,  so hope  is  given  the  go  ahead  to  drift  off  &  explore  on  her  own  .  the  remaining  two  days  are  hers  to  do  as  she  pleases  .

she  makes  a  beeline  toward  the  carousel  -  their spot - only  pausing  briefly  to  make  sure  she  looks  presentable  in  one  of  the  funhouse  mirrors  along  the  way  .  sunshine  yellow  blouse  ,  blue  jean  shorts  ,  &  her  dark  curls  pulled  up  high  into  a  ponytail tied with a ribbon .  .  .  all  slightly  𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅  to  make  her  look  all  stretched  out  ,  but  it  gives  her  a  good  enough  idea  .  quietly  she  wishes  she'd  worn  something  a  bit  more  adventurous  ,  maybe  that  sundress  she'd  packed  specifically  to  drive  him  crazy  .

she'll  just  have  to  save  𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻  for  when  she's  cheering  him  on  at  the  rodeo  tomorrow  .

pleased  with  her  appearance  ,  hope  makes  her  way  over  to  the  ride  -  the  spinning  lights  reflecting  like  𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕  in  her  eyes  as she approaches .  the  sky  is just  beginning  to  darken  ,  still  streaked  with  the  shades  of  sunset  blue  ,  pink  ,  &  orange  .  it's  only  a  matter  of  time  now  ,  but  she  tries  not  to  look  around  too  much  .  she  doesn't  want  to  seem  overly  excited  ,  even  if  her  heart  is  already  fluttering  in  her  chest  with  anticipation  .

     a smirk pulls on joel's lips at her response - of course, he didn't believe a word of what she said. hope asking for sugar was like joel asking to borrow a tool. such a clear & BLATANT excuse that's so easily debunked but warms joel's face all the same.

                ❝ well, i reckon we can SCROUNGE somethin' together for ya. ❞

     subconsciously, joel leans his hand against the doorframe while the other comes to rest on his hip. while hope's unexpected arrival was definitely welcome ( he's so glad sarah's at school ), it means he didn't have much of a chance to pick up the house a bit. there's too much evidence laying around the house of joel's ARDUOUS work hours & sarah's soccer team hanging out after practice.

     he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. ❝ you, uh - ya need it right now ? ❞

𝒃𝒈𝟑 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 ( accepting ! )

@quastari said : ❝ let me guess - you need something . ❞ from pre outbreak joel

❝  𝒖𝒉  .  .  .  ❞

even  from  where  she  hovers  behind  his  screen  door  ,  her  caught-red-handed  sheepish  smile  can  be  easily  detected  .  mischief  𝑺𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑳𝑬𝑺  within  her  blue  sky  gaze  ,  hinting  at  an  ulterior  motive  joel  has  already  astutely  picked  up  on  . 

❝  would  you  believe  me  if  i  said  i  came  over  to  borrow  a  cup  of  sugar  ?  ❞  is  her  deceptively  innocent  reply  .

of  course  ,  we  all  know  that baker  extraordinaire  hope  baxter  would  never  be  caught  with  any  less  than  3  full  bags  of  sugar  stored  within  her  perpetually  well  stocked  pantry  .  it  seems  she's  come  to  visit  his  residence  seeking  another  kind  of  𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔  -  should  he  be  receptive  .  they  haven't  exactly  labeled  whatever  they  are  to  each  other  just yet  ,  it's  all  still  so  new  &  delicate  .

❝  just  lookin'  for  a  little  𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑵  𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀  ,  that's  all  .  ❞

     for years now, shooting a gun has been as simple as breathing. like his weapons were apart of him - taking them away akin to amputation. his reflexive response of ' just shoot ' DIES on his tongue when arthur glances sideways to hope. notes how her eyes, turning almost purple under the setting sun, stay glued on the weapon she's holding. barely daring to breathe for fear of doing it wrong.

     arthur's hand releases the barrel of the revolver, a fingertip tapping the sights just above the hammer. ❝ line these up with your target, ❞ he instructs. ❝ both ends. at this distance, you don't gotta worry about the bullet goin' low. just make sure you're shootin' straight. ❞

     a few silent heartbeats stretch as he allows hope to make adjustments. he doesn't chime in. doesn't attempt to CORRECT her. knows she won't learn unless she makes a mistake & understands why. but it's damn tempting - especially since his hand still covers her. the hard line of his chest pressing against her shoulder. feeling like he needs an excuse to stay so close to her.

                 he doesn't have one, so he pulls away.

     ❝ & always fire on empty lungs, ❞ arthur finishes, his voice deep & only slightly above a whisper. not wanting to speak louder & break her focus. brows pulled together, muscles taut as he waits for the loud clap of hope pulling the trigger.

     while arthur did pull away, he keeps a hand hovering over the spot between her shoulder blades. ready to connect & keep her from stumbling if need be. firing a shot during the HEAT of the moment was very different from a calm, quiet moment in the forest. arthur has to make sure to keep his focus on the lesson, however - the heat he feels radiating from her spine is almost enough to break it.

hands  drop  to  her  sides  in  anxious  preparation  ,  ready  to  follow  his  instruction  -  they  open  &  close  a  few  times  ,  simply  because  it  feels  like  something  one  ought  to  do  before  handling  such  a  weapon  .  she  is  so  focused  on  being  appropriately  𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓  ,  that  she  doesn't  really  consider  how  arthur  intends  to  go  about  teaching  her  until  she  feels  his  warm  calloused  touch  .

as  much  as  hope  tries  to  hide  it  ,  she  stiffens  in  response  ,  like  a  prey  animal  deciding  whether  it  is  safer  to  bolt  or  remain  frozen  in  place  .  she  holds  her  breath  ,  listening  diligently  ,  delicate  fingers  closing  carefully  around  the  handle  &  adjusting  to  his  instruction  .  despite  her  nerves  &  the  𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕  rising  to  her  cheeks  due  to  their  proximity  ,  she  can't  help  but  feel  a  bit  more  at  ease  with  his  rumbling  low  voice  at  her  back  &  the  even-keeled  steadiness  of  his  movements  .

then  he  mentions  killing  &  her  heart  picks  up  its  pace  once  more  .  while  the  idea  of  taking  another's  life  is  instinctively  abhorrent  to  her  ,  she  also  realizes  that  it  is  a  𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑮𝑬  she's  never  had  to  cross  that  threshold  of  irreversible  moral  compromise  .

she  still  knows  very  little  about  mr.  morgan  ,  but  has  picked  up  enough  about  him  to  know  he  entered  the  life  of  an  outlaw  at  an  extremely  formative  age  .  from  what  she  understands  ,  it's  all  he's  ever  known  .  she  has  no  room  to  judge  him  for  doing  what  is  necessary  to  𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆  ,  so  she  doesn't  .

his  grasp  completely  encompassing  her  own  ,  she  is  similarly  struck  by  their  difference  in  size  .  he  truly  towers  over  her  ,  her  slight  frame  fitting  against  his  broad  one  in  a  way  that  makes  her  weak  in  the  knees  .  grappling  with  herself  to  𝑭𝑶𝑪𝑼𝑺  on  the  task  at  hand  ,  the  squeeze  he  gives  recaptures  her  attention  &  she  copies  the  gesture  attentively  .

❝  woah  ,  ❞  brows  rise  into  her  fringe  as  he  demonstrates  how  secure  her  grip  has  become  ,  a  small  𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅  smile  tugging  at  the  corner  of  her  lips  . it makes her feel . . . strong . ❝  okay  ,  i  think  i  got  it  .  what  next  ?  ❞

     surprise flickers over arthur's face immediately, attention shooting back over in time to watch the way hope's eyes expand. her fingertips brushing over plush, pink lips as if it would help REIN in what she just said. but it was in the air now - hanging in much the way cigar smoke does. heavy, thick, intrusive.

     arthur blinks once, twice, shifting in his seat on the third. he had an inkling about how hope might've felt about this whole thing - he ain't like dutch, but arthur's come to know miss hope baxter a little by now. knows when she's being truthful & when she's trying to spare his feelings. when she's genuine or teasing.

     ❝ so you don't wanna marry this guy, ❞ arthur says bluntly. reinforcing what she just admitted by mistake. not allowing it to be shuffled under the rug in a way hope will want to do.

     he spins the whiskey in his glass, mouth tight & jaw set. a small temptation rises in arthur's gut to point out that, CONTRARY to her question about doing anything else with his life, he ain't the one being pushed into a marriage. he had the freedom to marry for love, if love ever found him.

            ( it did. long ago. & it was these same damn expectations that kept her from him. )

     arthur lets out a long, IMPATIENT sigh. ❝ if you don't wanna get married, then don't ! what - daddy won't be happy ? seems to me you should put 'urself first. ❞

❝  --  no  !  ❞  hope  lets  out  a  small  half-hearted  laugh  compulsively  ,  to  match  his  energy  more  than  anything  else  .  she  continues  ,  ❝  i  mean  ,  not  unless  you  wanted  to  be  somethin'  𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚  .  ❞  she  tilts  her  head  to  the  side  in  evaluation  of  his  reaction  ,  brows  furrowing  together  .  it  surprises  her  how  quickly  he  dismisses  the  idea  that  he  might  ever  have  been  anything  else  in  life  .  he's  smart  ,  much  smarter  than  he  gives  himself  any  credit  for  anyway  .  he's  got  plenty  of  skills  applicable  to  careers  outside  of  gunslinging  &  playing  muscle  for  the  van  der  linde  gang  .  she's  seen  it  .  .  .  but  he  really  doesn't  ,  does  he  ?  that  thought  weighs  down  her  sweet  smile  -  noticeably  drooping  into  a  pout  .

as  he  surveys  the  room  ,  hope  takes  the  opportunity  to  briefly  study  his  features  -  she  notes  his  scars  ,  the  lines  around  his  eyes  ,  their  color  .  she  wonders  what  those  eyes  have  seen  ;  she  wonders  how  they  see  𝑯𝑬𝑹  .

as  arthur  refocuses  ,  leaning  in  that  little  bit  closer  ,  she  draws  in  a  quick  sharp  breath  -  gaze  flickering  toward  his  lips  for  a  single  beat  .  while  she  tries  to  keep  her  expression  neutral  ,  kicking  herself  internally  for  being  so  easily  𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅  -  she  can't  hide  the  flush  that  blooms  across  her  freckles  like  wildflowers  .

her  attention  successfully  captured  ,  she  listens  to  what  he  says  intently  -  heart  dropping  to  &  shattering  on  the  filthy  floor  .  it  takes  her  a  moment  to  process  it  all  ,  first  the  briefly  flippant  description  of  his  parents  ,  then  .  .  .  'even  worse  man  than  me  .  .  .'  that  admission  alone  floors  her  into  momentary  silence  ,  a  rarity  for  her  &  an  𝑰𝑴𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑽𝑬  feat  on  arthur's  part.

before  she  can  come  up  with  something  𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚  apologetic  to  say  ,  he  has  already  moved  onto  his  question  -  further  throwing  her  off  .

❝  i  .  .  .  me  ?  ❞  she  blinks  up  at  him  ,  still  recalibrating  from  the  sheer  mental  whiplash  .  her  sufficiently  inebriated  mind  struggling  to  keep  up  .  ❝  uh  .  .  .  hm  ,❞  she  scrambles  blindly  for  something  ,  𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮  to  say -  &  so  the  truth  spills  out with an incredulous giggle .  ❝  well  i  wouldn't  be  getting  married  ,  that's  for  sure  .  .  .  ❞  the  moment  she  hears  herself  azure  eyes  blow  wide  ,  lips  flatting  into  a  thin  line  ,  fingers  pressing  loosely  to  her  lips  in  shock  .

❝  -  i  don't  know  why  i  said  that  ,  ❞  maybe  the  drinks  were  a  𝒃𝒂𝒅  𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂  after  all  .  .  .

the silence has always put arthur just a little on edge. it holds TROUBLE more than peace, in his experience. a man with a knife hiding behind a corner. a cougar gliding through the shadows. the rare times where dutch is speechless or hosea has got no more tricks up his sleeves.

being alone with a bride-to-be.

arthur unbuckles his gun belt, offering a short grunt to hope's reply as he sets old leather & cool iron down on the table. he plans on spending much of the next few hours cleaning his weapons while hope sleeps. maybe seeking some rest of his own in the rickety wooden chair until she wakes & continue their journey in the morning.

she speaks up again. his grip tightens on his revolver when it's pulled from its holster.

❝ upset me ? ❞ arthur repeats incredulously. a snort edges his tone. AMUSED that this girl thinks she has such sway over his feelings. arthur just gives a short shake of his head. ❝ ma'am, i promise, you'll know when i am upset. ❞

though, he stops himself from teasing her further. he's seen where she comes from. how her father speaks to her. mary had much the same reactions to his scowling face.

❝ ... you've done nothing worth upsetting, miss. ❞

with her attempt to lighten the growing apprehension in the room falling 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐓 , she shrinks further into herself . at another time she wouldn't have hesitated to counter his jab with one of her own - but she's grown far too exhausted from the day's events to come up with any cleverly indignant responses worth throwing his way. besides , there is 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 she could possibly say that could change how he must see her: spoiled , privileged , ingenuous , sheltered , frivolous . . . & the worst part is - he's right .

by all logic it shouldn't bother her so much , what arthur thinks . her father paid him to get her from point a to b safely. that should be the extent of their relationship, 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 . he gets his payment & she takes on the newest role expected of her - beautiful blushing bride-to-be . her family's future will be secured , everything has been carefully arranged for her . it should unfold neatly , 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚 .

so why does she still feel so uneasy ?

why does his patronizing only make her want to try harder ?

letting out her own sigh, the tiniest air of 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓 slipping through her best attempts to mask it , ❝ okay . if y'say we're safer here , i trust you . ❞ silence follows , it would be awkward if the tension weren't thick enough to chew . hope tries to let things 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓 , to stop poking the bear - but the question turns over & over in her mind until she can't take it any more .

❝ did i . . . do something to upset you ? ❞

     ❝ pleasure, ❞ thomas replies easily. the initial SHOCK of seeing hope had begun to wane, so it was a little easier to relax & loosen up & remember his cover. there was still a worm of worry in the back of his mind - encountering someone who knew the real will riker so well & may very well see through his facade. ❝ stopping by for a visit while awaiting transport to risa. ❞

     the explanation tumbled out in an easy, practiced way. thomas brings his drink up to take a sip. lets his gaze sweep the patrons. repositions his feet as he leans against the bar. ANYTHING to distract himself from truly meeting hope's eyes.

          maybe then she won't be able to read him. maybe then he can make himself FORGET how she used to look at the real will riker.

     ❝ you know doctor crusher - show the slightest signs of stress & she drags you on the transporter pad herself for leave. ❞

hope almost turns on her heel to high-tailed it back out of quark's the moment she catches sight of those 𝑭𝑹𝑼𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑳𝒀 recognizable broad shoulders . lulled into the security of her predictable routine here on the station - as predictable as it gets on deep space nine , anyway . . . will's presence is enough to jolt her right out of auto-pilot .

surely he would have had the forethought to let her know he was visiting . . . or wouldn't he ? it's not like she lays any more claim to the place than anyone else , but it is 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 now , & he knows that . as they say , curiosity kills the cat .

so , she finds herself floating over to get the 𝑨𝑾𝑲𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑫 part over with - & perhaps to stick her freckled nose into why he would be here SO suddenly , with no warning .  ( not that he owes her a warning or anything , but admittedly it would have been nice . ) she doesn't miss the way his brows furrow slightly . . . surely , he should have expected this encounter - right ?

𝒖𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 , her racing thoughts all melt away when he smiles , & it's like meeting him on the enterprise for the first time all over again .

❝ well enough i suppose , ❞ the corners of her lips lift naturally , her voice carrying the 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑻𝑯 of familiarity . she continues with a light chuckle , ❝ & as you've read , very busy . . . speaking of - what brings you all the way out here , stranger ? ❞

     the glow of his cigarette is the only real way to tell that arthur morgan was there at all. he leans against the thick trunk of an oak tree, which shields him from the moonlight that's bathed miss baxter during her goodbye. it makes her dress nearly as PALE as her skin - almost white, in fact. as if she were already in her fancy wedding gown. the careful steps to meet him like the walk down the aisle.

     he forces that thought from his mind as she approaches him. pulls on his cigarette again, making the end glow like a tiny wildfire. ❝ alright, then, ❞ arthur says, pushing off the tree with a sigh.

               but he doesn't approach the horses. not yet.

     with a thumb hanging from his gun belt, arthur instead steps closer to hope baxter. eyes utterly UNSEEN under the darkness of his hat. nothing but a dark silhouette as he takes a moment to properly size her up. arthur's met her kind before - polite & put together on the surface. maybe even kind. but utterly innocent & ignorant.

     ❝ i dunno what your daddy told you 'bout me, but lets get a few things straight - you do everything i tell you. no questions. no backchat. i ain't a couch driver, ma'am ... i KILL people. an' your daddy hired me to kill anyone who might wanna take you. so please, do bear that in mind whenever you wanna go frolicking or whatever it is you like to do. ❞

𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 @quastari !

it  was  decided  they  should  head  out  before  the  crack  of  dawn  ,  utilizing  the  cover  of  𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔  to  slip  out  of  town  unnoticed  .  there  had  been  a  brief  introduction  to  her  hired  guide  ,  arthur  morgan  ,  but  her  father  had  done  most  of  the  talking  then  .  she'd  offered  a  polite  smile  &  nod  ,  but  not  much  else  ,  unsure  what  the  social  norms  in  this  situation  are  -  if  anything  about  this  could  be  considered  'normal'  .

❝  please  be  careful  ,  ❞  is  the  last  request  damien  baxter  makes  of  his  beloved  daughter  before  she  departs  ,  his  hands  squeezing  both  of  hers  tightly  -  𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑻𝑨𝑵𝑻  to  let  her  go  .  they  had  scarcely  been  apart  since  her  mother's  death  ,  &  even  less  so  since  her  sister  had  run  off  -  all  they  have  left  is  each  other  .  it  shows  in  the  way  they  embrace  ,  holding  tight  for  a  good  long  moment  .  he  presses  a  kiss  to  the  crown  of  her  head  before  sending  her  off  .

 ❝  i'll  be  okay  ,  promise  ,  ❞  her  smile  is  𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆  ,  but  her  eyes  are  sad  .

with  goodbyes  concluded  ,  there  is  nothing  left  to  do  but  mount  her  horse  -  whom  she's  staunchly  refused  to  part  with  for  even  these  few  short  weeks  .  she's  only  packed  the  bare  minimum  for  the  journey  ,  or  as  close  as  she  is  able  to  get  .  had  hope  been  another  woman  of  her  stature  she  might  have  dreaded  ,  even  𝑳𝑶𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑫  the  prospect  of  roughing  it  like  this  -  but  she  finds  herself  actually  looking  forward  to  the  simplicity  of  it  all  .  despite  going  to  these  great  lengths  in  the  interest  of  her  safety  ,  she  is  actually  quite  happy  to  have  some  time  away  from  the  pressures  &  constraints  of  her  typical  life  .  the  whole  affair  feels  like  a  breath  of  fresh  air  ,  the  last  one  it  seems  she'll  ever  breathe  .  hope  intends  to  savor  it  .

after  a  final  wave  &  one  last  look  toward  𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆  ,  she  turns  toward  arthur  .  ❝  i'm  ready  .  ❞

     ❝ you got happy egg money ? ❞

     despite his SNARKY response, stan leans over to pick up a carton. it was the brand he always used to roll his eyes at, believing only a sucker would cop out the extra few bucks for them. stan's tempted to put them back & try to convince mabel to choose a different kind.

     her eyes BEAM at him from over the side of the carton. the eggs go into the cart with a groan.

     ❝ these 'cakes better blow me away, kid. ❞

mabel hardly notices the stares, she's far too caught up in her own technicolor little world - one where REAL eggs are an absolute necessity! ❝ c'mon grunkle stan, i wanna give great uncle ford the complete authentic mabelcakes experience - a chance of eggshells in every bite ! ❞ she's joking - mostly .

hopping off her grunkle-powered chariot to inspect the options, she lands on a carton which boasts of free-roam pastures, heartier yolks . . . & a heftier price tag than the rest. ❝ can we get this kind ? please ? ❞ she points excitedly to the idyllic images on the packaging, ❝ look how happy these chickens are, that means happy eggs, happy mabelcakes, happy everyone.❞

the girl beams up at stan with an earnesty that would seem questionable coming from any other kid - but this is mabel pines , wholeheartedly wanting to go the extra mile for the people she cares about most. how could he say no to that ?

     he shakes his head, chest still lightly heaving under the rush of adrenaline. in just a couple short strides, joel passes by hope to stand between her & the runner banging on the other side of door. getting here just in time to lock the bastard up was a streak of LUCK hasn't slipped by joel.

           ❝ didn't have time to look for much of anythin', ❞ joel replies in a tight, graveled tone.

     joel slowly turns, his gaze hard & troubled when they reach hope's. ❝ that was a STUPID goddamn thing you just did. what woulda happened if i didn't get here in time ? ❞

❝  yeah  .  .  .  𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒉  -  'm  okay  .  ❞

her  heart  still  pounds  wildly  in  her  chest  ,  matching  pace  with  the  𝑭𝑳𝑼𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹  of  hummingbird  wings  .  weapon  is  still  raised  in  active  defense  ,  the  shot  infected  lying  crumpled  at  her  feet  .  she  looks  over  to  joel  -  her  shoulders  falling  in  relief  at  his  presence  ,  a  sighed  breath  leaving  panting  lips  .

❝  scared  the  hell  out  of  me  ,  though  ,  ❞  hope  adds  ,  pushing  back  her  fringe  which  sticks  to  the  𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒕  drenched  surface  of  her  forehead  .  ❝  find  anythin'  useful  ?  ❞

     she was NERVOUS to take the gun - he could see it. her hesitance reminded arthur of a winter's day a long time ago, when he was still a boy. dutch pushing a rusty cattleman into his hands & showing him how to hold it. how to aim. how to squeeze the trigger. the memory seemed so far off - like it belonged to someone else.

     arthur attempts to MIMIC dutch from those years back. ❝ any fool can shoot a gun. the fact that you actually hit the bastard already puts you way ahead, so try not to worry. ❞

     he reaches down to grasp her forearm, bringing it up straight & pressing the cool handle of his revolver into her palm. arthur does so slowly, as if hope were a wild mare he was trying to win the trust of. CAREFUL movements, showing no fear, eyes straight.

     ❝ don't point it at nobody you don't plan on killin'. keep your fingers tight 'round the handle. er ... little more than that. nah, it's just gonna go FLYIN' if you try to shoot like that. christ ... ❞

               her hands were much smaller than his.

     arthur circles around hope's back with a sigh, reaching for her other hand & bringing it up to the first. ❝ alright, let's try ... ❞ his voices falls off, his FOCUS on the positioning of hope's fingers.

     his thumbs guide hers, one atop the other. fingers curling over hope's around the handle, making sure her left covered her right. & with his hands still covering hope's, shadowing her own grip on the revolver, he squeezes. making sure she knows to do the same.

     ❝ now that ain't goin' nowhere. ❞ to prove his words, one of arthur's hands detaches to grip the barrel. jerking it once & twice, it doesn't budge.

❝  i  wouldn't  exactly  call  us  the  𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚  sort  ,  but  i  catch  your  meaning  .❞

she  follows  his  lead  ,  allowing  him  to  herd  her  toward  the  appropriate  spot  for  target  practice  .  watching  &  waiting  patiently  while  he  preps  ,  hands  remain  clasped  behind  her  back  -  almost  as  if  she's  still  a  little  uncertain  about  the  whole  thing  .  regardless  ,  he's  right  .  with  so  much  ground  left  to  cover  before  reaching  their  destination  ,  it  is  𝑰𝑵𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬  they  will  run  into  more  trouble  in  some  form  .  it  would  be  nice  to  know  a  thing  or  two  ,  in  the  case  of  something  else  going  sideways  .  .  .  as  it  often  tends  to  do  when  hope  is  around  -  &  arthur's  equally  turbulent  life  just  about  triples  that  probability  .

somehow  ,  still  ,  she's  never  felt  𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓  than  she  does  by  his  side  .

❝  okay  ,  ❞  she  nods  ,  eyes  catching  the  way  the  firearm  glints  in  the  light  of  the  steadily  setting  sun  .  clearly  𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑽𝑶𝑼𝑺  of  the  weapon  &  what  it  can  do  ,  she  keeps  being  drawn  back  to  it  .  as  much  as  she  tries  to  deny  it  ,  the  events  from  earlier  that  day  have  certainly  shaken  her  .

hope  had  never  thought  herself  capable  of  shooting  someone  until  the  heat  of  the  moment  necessitated  such  an  action  .  it  is  all  still  so  𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒉  in  her  mind  -  the  surprising  weight  of  the  gun  ,  the  kickback  nearly  causing  her  to  lose  her  grip  ,  watching  the  bullet  impact  her  target  ,  seeing  the  man  go  down  .  .  .  should  she  regret  it  more  ?

hope  keeps  to  herself  that  she  feels  as  though  it  all  should  bother  her  more  than  it  does  .  maybe  that  is  just  what  happens  when  someone  intends  to  kidnap  &  ransom  you  for  all  that  they  can  extort  from  your  husband-to-be  .  it's  hard  to  feel  all  that  𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑹𝒀  ,  which  disturbs  her  quite  a  bit  .  especially  when  arthur  points  out  that  what  she  had  done  was  merely  a  half-measure  .

swallowing  hard  ,  she  tries  to  shake  those  worries  off  &  focus  on  the  𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕  lesson  .  ❝  so  ,  how  am  i  supposed  to  hold  it  -  'cause  i'm  pretty  sure  i  was  doin'  it  all  wrong  .  .  .  ❞

     part of arthur didn't seem to want to breathe with hope so close. the smell of her clung to the inside of his throat like smoke - deceivingly sweet but still TOXIC in its own way. in the moment, however, it was impossible to describe it as it was.

     hope baxter has always been a forbidden fruit he was too SINFUL to hold. perched on a branch just low enough to reach. its sweet smell had been tempting arthur closer since the beginning but he always managed to turn away. it only took the smallest breeze to knock her loose right into his hands & now he finds he's AFRAID to learn how she tastes.

     his eyes dart away when hope brings a hand up to his cheek. her fingers are soft & gentle - so contrasted from the more VIOLENT touches he is used to. yet, it affects him all the same. flinching ever so slightly, expecting it to hurt but realizing he wants more.

     the line of his mouth tightens at hope's reply. her refusal to continue certainly would've made things far EASIER for him. ❝ i ain't sure on a lot of things. ❞ arthur admits, eyes returning to hers.

     carefully, as if afraid to hurt her, his hands come up to hold her arms. he almost pushes her away. he almost pulls her closer. arthur decides on keeping hope still until he can decide.

         ❝ ... but i do know that this ain't exactly smart. runnin' out on your wedding was one thing - hell, maybe it was the right thing. but i can't have you gettin' involved with an OUTLAW like me. ❞

𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 & 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏 ( selectively accepting ! )

@quastari said : ❝  are you sure ? we can stop if you want . ❞ ( from arthur )

lips remain parted as she tries to catch her breath , head still spinning in the aftermath of their lapse in judgement . she can still taste him on her tongue - tobacco smoke & something 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 she can't quite place ; she still feels the scratch of his beard too , no doubt leaving her pale skin even more flushed . she has spent the better part of the last month imagining what it would be like to kiss this man , & perhaps it's the sheer anticipation of it all , ( or maybe it's that there is some deeper , much more dangerous connection between the two of them . . . ) but it is everything she's been fantasizing about - maybe even more .

his words take time to cut through the heady rush of emotions she's experiencing , their meaning sinking in like 𝑴𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑺 in autumn . the blue sky of her gaze eventually refocuses on arthur , the sun peeking back out from behind the cloudy haze she'd gotten lost in , his rumbling drawl the swift wind pushing it away - bringing her back to reality .

hands rise from where they had taken purchase , clinging onto his shirt for dear life . hesitating only briefly , she moves to gingerly cup his face . just for a moment , she allows herself another indulgence to satiate her pining , a thumb brushing across a stubbled cheek . her gaze brims with all of the affection she's been denying - 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 even further in response to what he's said . even now , he's still trying to protect her . it's nearly enough for her to compulsively close the minuscule gap between them once again . somehow , she resists the urge .

❝ believe me , the last thing i wanna do right now is stop , ❞ she admits , a bit taken aback by how 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫𝒀 she sounds , speaking hardly above a whisper . ❝ i . . . ❞

. . . don't think i've ever needed someone quite like i need 𝒚𝒐𝒖 .

it takes her a moment to reconfigure her thoughts away from finally being honest with herself & to him , the 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑻𝒀 of what she wants to say sending her heart into a panicked frenzy . she stalls , tongue darting out subconsciously to wet her lips , clearly still precariously wavering between lust & logic . ❝ are . . . are you sure ? ❞ turning it back on him , classic deflection hope baxter . well done .

      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  ?  ❞

arthur wanted to stay in the room all night. it wasn't all too smart to go gallivanting around town - sure, they've had a quiet couple days. made good time without any bullets flying their way. perhaps that's what made arthur COMPLACENT. easy to be convinced for a drink or two when they outta stay hidden away.

hope baxter may have had the ability to sweet-talk him all the way to the saloon, but she couldn't stop himself from keeping an eye on the doors. or mad-dogging everyone who walked a little too close to their table. or keeping hope tucked away between himself and the wall.

the whiskey bites, & arthur is careful not to INDULGE too much - out of the ordinary but necessary. a few uneventful days is all it takes for anybody's guard to drop.

her question prevents him from taking another sip. his brows pinch together, nose scrunching a bit as arthur considers the question. ❝ different how ? ❞

but he's got an inkling on what hope means. it's a sentiment he considered once upon a time - when he was a young man being pulled two different ways. wondering what could change in his life that would allow him to have everything and give up nothing.

it was a fool's GAME to wish. nothing never came of it.

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 ( accepting ! )

@quastari said : ∗ 53﹕ sender buys receiver a drink at a bar . ( from arthur )

❝ - thanks . ❞ it's not her first of the night & with the way things are going , it's not going to be her 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 . he's hardly set the glass down before she's reaching for it - tossing the liquor back so fast she can't think too hard about whether she ought to go back to at least pretending to be a sensible young lady .

with each passing day of their journey , hope has only grown more & more disquieted . her thoughts have been far too loud & far too 𝑫𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑺 . it's become impossible trying to ignore the overwhelming sense of panic her betrothal inspires , at times the weight feels so heavy in her chest she can hardly breathe . driving her even more insane , she can't express any of it . well , she could - but what good will that do ? regardless of her feelings on the matter , she made a promise to her father & the stakes of the situation far outweigh one woman's happiness . . .

even if she's already given so much of herself to others , even if she feels like something inside of her is dying . . . even if she can't stop fantasizing about being a little 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇𝒊𝒔𝒉, just this once .

so here she is , 𝑫𝑹𝑶𝑾𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 her worries for at least a short while . the last thing hope wants to do tonight is think - & thankfully arthur doesn't seem all that opposed to indulging her coping mechanism of choice for the evening .

lord , & then there's arthur morgan - 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 personified . in her inebriated state , hope's lingering gaze has become much less subtle than her typically fleeting glances . while not completely unabashed , she's allowing herself a slight respite from the usual spiral of guilt & shame . besides , it's not a crime to look - is it ? it takes every ounce of self control not to reach out & feel his solid frame beneath her fingertips , hands tightening & bunching up her skirts as an attempt to ground herself . it's not working , she needs a distraction - now .

turning to face him more , a bubbling giddiness present in her voice as the drink 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑺 her inside & out , she throws out the first question that comes to mind , ❝ d'ya ever just wish things were . . . different ? ❞

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  .  ❞

with his head down, hat sat low to cover his eyes, arthur doesn't catch the searching look in her eyes. it was purposeful - he could see her face in his head. forcing a smile but it doesn't reach wide, FRIGHTENED eyes. he'd seen them on mary once, when they were out on the town & a couple guys recognized arthur & it turned into a shootout. it was one of the last times he saw her.

he did not CARE to see that look again.

" it wasn't your fault, arthur. "

carefully, like a wounded dog, arthur lifts his head. the brim of his hat reveals slender shoulders, a long, PALE neck, a pink bottom lip hanging separate from the other & tinged with a frown. hope's eyes are genuine - even after days of travel, it surprises him to see. because now he knows her sympathy is real.

❝ i, erm - don't... huh. ❞

hosea always told him not to babble when he's speechless. it only makes him look simple ( which arthur isn't convinced he's not, to hosea's displeasure ) & he should just keep his mouth shut. but in that moment, he felt almost DESPERATE to respond.

❝ i had an idea. uh.... a thought. might come in handy down the line, but we don't gotta if you'd prefer to turn in. ❞

arthur steps back, his hand falling down to his gunbelt to rest on the cool iron of his revolver. a creature of habit - leaning into guns & violence & preparing for the worst because it's as easy as breathing. mary was right.

he won't ever change.

from her position , hope is more or less eye-level with his injured knuckles . the darkening crimson draws her gaze as he speaks , but she does her best not to linger there for too long. it looks like it hurts . the twinge of sympathy upon her gentle features is plain as her gaze rises to meet his once again , also noting the state of his eye . if only he would just let her help . . . the thought makes something in her heart 𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑬 .

❝ y'don't have anythin' to be sorry for . ❞ she tries to meet his gaze , anyway - but she finds that it is all over the place . not much time needs to be spent theorizing in order to deduce the 𝒐𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 , rosy lips falling open in stunned realization ❝ you're . . . not blaming yourself for what happened , are you ? ❞

he definitely is , she would bet money on it if she had any of her own . hope is deeply familiar with that look , that feeling - taking on all the weight of the world for everyone else , leaving oneself behind in the process . looking up at him now , she might as well be looking in a 𝑴𝑰𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑹 .

❝ it wasn't your fault , arthur . ❞ she takes the opportunity to stand , needing to emphasize that fact with a firmness remaining crouched would 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚 not communicate properly . the man had saved her skin too many times to count already , she'll be damned if he discounts all of that as if it were nothing .

❝ please don't do that to yourself , not on my account - okay ? ❞

setting up camp & starting up a fire was enough to keep arthur's hands BUSY for an hour or so. before they'd been bushwhacked, arthur wanted nothing more than to settle down for the night. but now, as the sun begins to sink under the horizon, his knuckles are the same shade of red as the sky.

he rubbed at them absently as he watches the fire, his brows pulled tight together in thought. ms hope baxter had wanted to treat his wounds after arthur scared off the last of the bounty hunters. & arthur was THANKFUL when she allowed the matter to drop after he resisted.

it seemed she was protecting his pride as tightly as his life.

in true form, arthur hadn't thought of much to say before he ended up in front of her. his hands hang by his sides - their dull THROB helps ground his focus. pain always seemed to do that.

❝ that's precisely what i wanted to discuss, ❞ he replies in a stern, GRUFF tone. arthur shifts his weight, darting his eyes, pulling his face into a grimace despite the light swelling around his eye. ❝ i wanted to apologize. for puttin' you in that sort of position. i'm s'posed to be protecting you - not the other way around. ❞

if dutch had been here, he'd surely be tearing arthur a new one. scolding him for having been so distracted on a job. but the fatherly reprimand would've morphed into teasing. because dutch has always been real good at reading people, and he'd sniff out the CAUSE of his distraction like a bloodhound.

❛ my, arthur, here i was believing you were above such earthly desires. didn't think you had it in you, son. ❜

his ears BURN just thinking of it.

𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 ( accepting ! )

@quastari said : ❝ i . . . should probably thank you for that . ❞ ( from arthur )

the sun lies low on the horizon , shadows growing long in the golden light . they had set up camp for the night close to a stream , & hope took the opportunity to clean some of her more road-worn garments . she's quite 𝒐𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒅 by the soothing sound of rushing water , the current dragging at her fingertips , & the refreshing chill of fresh evening air . so much so , she doesn't properly register arthur's approach until he speaks up . she sets down her last blouse to dry , turning to look up at the man from where she kneels .

❝ for . . . ? oh , that . ❞ echoes of the struggle from hours prior still ring inside her head , another reason she'd needed to take some time alone with her thoughts & prayers . lord have mercy on her , she hadn't had a choice - & even if she did , she doesn't regret the one she made . hope is not even sure she had time to fully process what was happening , only that if she did 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 arthur probably wouldn't have made it out of that scrap alive . . . so , she pulled the trigger . only hit the bastard in his shoulder , but it had been enough to turn the tables in their favor .

❝ think nothin' of it , y'would've done the same for me , ❞ she offers him a tight-lipped smile & a nod , as if to indicate nothing more needed to be said about it . from what she's gathered thus far traveling alongside arthur morgan , he probably had to work up to voicing his thanks . she doesn't want to push her luck or scare him off - but she does feel a warmth bubbling up in her chest , like . . . 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆 ? she's happy to have done something right , to have helped . to be more than a burden to him on this journey .

lips tug into a full grin now , playfulness taking over her previously somber tone , ❝ besides , seeing the look on your face when y'realized who fired was absolutely 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 . ❞

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.

@espercr asked : "I suppose you have good reason for making me look like a liar?" (4 Arthur :3c)

❝ it was either that or i'm your client. ❞

the words are low & bitten out as soon as the two round the corner into the hallway. it was dark, save for the low-lit lanterns hung on the walls that outlined arthur's STURDY shoulders & furrowed brow. their room was at the very end, near the back door leading to the patio - good. another avenue of escape should they need it.

noises from the doors they passed served to SUPPORT arthur's meaning. he could hear a woman offering a very good performance - no doubt giving her client his money's worth.

as they passed the second, arthur picked up the sound of skin impacting against skin followed by a distinctly male voice crying out. his boots hit the ground a little quicker to move out of earshot.

❝ trust me, girl. you'd PREFER to be a married woman in these parts. ❞

arthur's footfalls cease once he reaches the fourth door, quickly unlocking it & giving it a light kick with the tip of his boot. the old wood swung open. revealing a room that had scarcely been cleaned after its last inhabitants. the STALE smell of cigars hang in the room like a mist. an old blanket barely covers a stain on the mattress.

when bringing a woman to a room for the night, a man should spring for something a little nicer. but the law may not think to search a hole in the wall such at this. ❝ make 'urself comfortable, princess, ❞ he continues in a low, SARCASTIC drawl.

@espercr asked: "It's been a long time. Too long." (DS9!Hope + it's actually Thomas impersonating Will but she doesn't know yet... like we discussed...)

for just a moment - a heartbeat - his brows furrowed at her words. thomas riker had expected one or two incidents where he may be put on the spot, and insisted his quick-thinking and poker face would GUIDE him until he could reach the defiant. an anecdote about will riker's travels is the most he expected.

but not her.

to cover up his surprise, thomas straightens his shoulders and puts on a smile. and he knew which kind of smile to offer hope baxter - he'd seen it himself. ❛❛ it has, ❜❜ he agreed, his tone light to emulate a SOMBER tone. the fact that she was here on the station, and not still on the enterprise, made it a safe bet to act at least a little sadly nostalgic.

❛❛ i hope you've been well. i've read some of the reports before coming here. ❜❜