Hey This Is Your Captain Speaking. Can Everyone Hold On Real Tight For A Sec. I Want To Try Something

stan pines tag drop.

     with his mouth in a tight line, arthur's head turns away to look straight ahead. hers is not an unfamiliar sentiment - one that's been mostly BEATEN out of arthur some time ago, but still there somewhere. still huddled inside the shell of a killer & a thief.

           ❝ ain't no shame in lookin' for the GOOD in the world. ❞

     his words are low, as if arthur were sharing a secret. the next moment, he's waving his hand up & shouting for the attention of the barkeep. ❝ lemme buy you somethin', ❞ he says, giving maeve a sideways glance. ❝ seems like you need something to get your mind off things. what'll you have ? ❞

reputations are everything, maeve isn't blind to that. she hides behind whichever one suits her best - those who label her as just a gentle, sweet woman. those who notice cleverness, that underestimate it all the same. everyone seems to be painted by so many artists... it's almost hard to keep track of which whispers come from where.

like seeing in the dark, it's often a matter of gut && experience.

her time with bobby was far from kind, far from gentle. but that doesn't mean she wants to let herself become used to the bad over the good.

"I just worry once I let myself always expect the bad, I'm setting myself up for that being how I see the world forever." and at that point, it becomes only surviving, not living. maeve can't help the part of her that is sure it's risk the danger to herself to simply... try to keep seeing at least some good. "I learn my lessons, I just don't want to forget there's a world outside of those bad moments. which probably sounds silly."

Lev St. Valentine

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.

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  .  ❞

@strcys asked : "That must have cost a fortune!" for jon x :)

❛❛ it would have, if it weren't for doctor phlox, ❜❜ jon replies with an UPBEAT tone. he had doubts that all the containers of food would even fit in their cargo bay - but the crew had been determined. ❛❛ they were very interested in his palavian leeches. ❜❜

the captain turns to pry open one of the containers, reaching in to pull out a ... vegetable? fruit? or some equivalent to it.

❛❛ i haven't broken the news to chef yet - you know how he gets when people do his SHOPPING for him. i was hoping i could trust that to you ... ❜❜

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 ? ❞

joel tag drop.

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@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.