for Years Now, Shooting A Gun Has Been As Simple As Breathing. Like His Weapons Were Apart

     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  .  .  .

jon dips his head in a single nod to acknowledge her words, though he's heard them from her before. his reply was normally to ASSURE her it wasn't a problem & they enjoyed having her here.

instead, he tosses the alien-fruit back into the container. ❝ making a good meal out of these is all the repayment we need. ❞

jon continues winding through container after container - only stopping to occasionally SKIM through a manifest report here & there. his focus was mainly on ellie. ❝ though, i hope you don't feel like you need to be helping out. i'm not going to maroon you somewhere because you aren't preparing dinner for us. ❞

｡･:*:･ﾟ🐬 BODY RAISES SLIGHTLY ... onto the balls of her feet , so that she can look into the containers as well. a bright smile crosses her lips as she pulls out a cucumber looking veggie - blue eyes look up at jon and her head nods , before she focuses back on the cucumber like food. ❝ these are great. ❞ chef had indeed ended up trusting her enough with the shopping list - just a little test. ❝ it's okay , captain. ❞ ellie replied , placing the cucumber back into the container and standing flat on her feet again. ❝ chef and i had a talk the other day. i'm not trying to push him out of his own kitchen. ❞ there was a laugh. ❝ but i don't want to just sit around in my room doing nothing , if i can do something to repay you guys for helping me. ❞

obediently - but not without an exaggerated groan - stan makes way toward the egg aisle. with mabel perched on the very front of the cart like a captain on the stern of her own ship , they caught a few glances from other shoppers. stan knew they were looking at mabel - aweing over an ADORABLE little girl much too excited about grocery shopping. round eyes turn to amused smiles when their gazes moved to stan himself , pushing the cart with hunched shoulders and knit brows.

ah, let one of 'em take mabel home if they want. saves stan from having to eat her mabelcakes . . .

especially when he caught a look at the egg prices. this kid was gonna bankrupt him.

" can't we just get that egg substitute shi- erm, crap ? " stan asked, steering the cart in its direction. " don't want the BURDEN of eating some little baby chicken on your conscience, do ya ? "

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 ( accepting ! )

@quastari said : ❝ the chocolate milk is strikingly overpriced & at the same time very easy to steal ; another of god's little tests .❞ - stanley pines

❝ & i'm pretending i didn't hear that ! ❞ mabel singsongs , depositing a gallon of the aforementioned beverage into their shopping cart with a loud thump . ❝ next on the list is . . . ❞ she squints at the slightly crumbled piece of notebook paper in her hand , where in between various holographic & glittery stickers there are some grocery items listed in glitter gel pen ink . ❝ woof , speaking of overpriced - eggs . ❞ returning to her perch at the front of the cart , she points ahead , waiting expectantly for her grunkle to propel her onward . ❝ now MUSH ! ❞

@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.

bayek tag drop.

♡ for some memes or perhaps a starter

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

Detti Kacsor

            a short bark of laughter comes from arthur as he stands, thumbs coming to hook into his gunbelt. his smirk is CROOKED, stretching over tanned skin in a way it often doesn't. it half comes from amusement, half because he's always a little put on the spot when teased by a woman.

                    " can't have that. i've got a reputation. "

            arthur is QUIET for a moment, his smirk fading because he feels his work isn't yet done. emotional upkeep falls far beyond his scope of expertise - but arthur knows how it is when the chips always feel like they're down. like he's run out of options. it's not a feeling he wishes on any decent person.

            " all's i'm saying is gut feelings ain't there for nothin'. what's the point in learnin' something the HARD way if you don't learn from it ? "

"trust your instincts. when the chips are down, they’re all you have." from @quastari / arthur

her gut is a constant: the way instinct has kept her alive, kept her aware. young woman is a contradiction - the gentleness of her features, of her mannerisms,  even of her silence... yet how cleverness fills those doe eyes, always studying the world as if waiting for the next disaster. she's not blind to the universe and how things really seem to go. yet over, and over, brunette does her very best to keep on choosing to see the good even when she knows how likely it all is to end badly.

"the chips always seem to be down." it's a dry little joke, quiet under her voice, attention still on the papers she's carefully sorting through. if anything - she knows it's a flaw she's so often tried to ignore her gut in favour of trying to understand other's opinions. it's how she ended up engaged to bobby after all, isn't it? "careful, I'll think you're concerned about me."