Open To Mutuals !
open to mutuals !
❝ i’m not supposed to advocate for violence. as captain, i disagree with what you did. ❞
jon knew the small brawl would bring nothing but trouble. starfleet headquarters will DEFINITELY have a thing or two to say about it - they’ll pressure him to punish the one responsible. but he was also VERY WELL aware that these particular aliens were less than polite.
❝ but ... how did it feel ? ❞
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i want a ‘you’ve been dating my brother, but he clearly doesn’t appreciate you, so ive come to save the day even though i’m entirely sure i’d be worse for you’ kind of plot.
obsessed with the dichotomy of barrett "i had to kill my own brother because he couldn't control his animal instincts and i live in fear of the same thing happening to me only nobody would be around to stop me from killing innocent people" torbon and barrett torbon who has an insatiable sweet tooth for honey and wants to be close to people but can't trust himself to be and yearns to have people he can protect and rely on.
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."
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 ? ❞
＃QUASTARI. indie & private multimuse featuring primarily canon characters from many different sources. featuring muses from : star trek, rdr2, tlou, & many more! affiliated with espercr
21+ mutuals only - mature themes will be present. triggering themes include : war, death, self-loathing, past & present trauma, & more may be depicted. ― streamy. twenty seven. she / they. pst.
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