#Polite Society Valentine Style

[fogaminghub]

🎉 Master "Polite Society, Valentine Style" in RDR2! 🎮

Join Arthur and Uncle on an epic journey to Valentine with our detailed guide! Learn how to tackle the mission's challenges like a pro and earn that coveted Gold Medal! 🏅

[girlvasectomy]

polite society, valentine style – one of my favorite mission <3

[nthspecialll]

Molly O'Shea, a fine lady?

Molly is known to be a very high society lady, and most certianly acts the part, however there exists a theory that she in fact might not be born into wealth. It is quite an unpopular theory, however I will give myself the freedom of showing the four pieces of evidence I have found and allowing you guys to make your own interpreations of it.

The very first thing a lot of people, myself included, is the vague langauge of her Rockstar introduction:

Most notibly the "she claims to be from a well-to-do Irish family", a very loose langauge that can't really be found with any of the other characters who have a very stern and direct langauge without this wavering. Like what do they mean "she claims to be"?

The second thing people notice is in the mission Polite Society, Valentine Style where Tilly asks if they should have asked Molly to come with them and Karen replies "oh no, Miss O'Shea is far too high and mighty now for the likes for us or to do any real work. She is a society lady, now." The empthasis on "now" has caught a lot of peoples attention as it seems to be something that hasn't always been there, which would contradict Molly's own claims.

Third piece of "evidence", if you wish to call it that, is part of a camp convosation with Sean:

(Sean) CMLL9_ACT_A_11 = ~z~I knew it. You're a snotty nosed little West Briton.

(Molly) CMLL9_ACT_A_12 = ~z~I am no such thing.

(Sean) CMLL9_ACT_A_13 = ~z~'Course you are. I see it now...

(Sean) CMLL9_ACT_A_14 = ~z~You probably have a family with big farmhouses and titles...

(Sean) CMLL9_ACT_B_1 = ~z~Ah, you're all the same.

(Molly) CMLL9_ACT_B_2 = ~z~Hey! Don't you spread lies about me!

Strangely enough I have never heard that last line in the game despite it being in the files mixed with all the other stuff that hasn't been cut, it is also still in the audio files, so I don't really know why I haven't found it in game.

The last thing I wish to present is once again a convosation with Ms Karen Jones, who seems to know a lot more about Molly than the rest of the gang, as well as being the only one to truely grieve her.

The convosation is in chapter four when Molly is pacing and having self doubt. Karen sees her, they talks shortly until Karen tells her "Listen... it's a hard life, this world... for anyone born without means. Any as judges those who find it hard, is a fool. I'm a lot of things, I'm not quite a fool." Which seems like a very strange thing to say if you are trying to comfort a person who was born with means as it hints at Karen understanding Molly because they both struggle due to a lack of money.

These are the pieces of "evidence" I have found, I will not claim I am 100% right about this as there is also evidence pointing the other direction, but I thought I would share either way.

[annaphoenix1994]

The Course of True Love - Book 1 - Masterlist

After a notorious outlaw is found accidentally by Arthur Morgan, Minnie Barlow is befriended by the fellow outlaw after giving up information about Colm O'Driscoll, a gang leader both she and Dutch van der Linde have detested. She is offered a tent of safety in their camp as their search for their rival was incessant as she insisted her stay was interim after taking notice of being too attracted to Arthur, sharing the same taste for hunting, fishing, and robbing, the pair almost imperceptive that they were letting themselves fall in love. As one of Arthur's dear friends and father figure tells it, "the course of true love cannot be stopped, whether it is intended or not."

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, songs, characters, businesses, places, events, locations, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner (Rockstar Games). Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Colter - Outlaws from the West

Colter - Enter, Pursued by a Memory

Colter - Old Friends

Colter - The Aftermath of Genesis

Colter - Who the Hell is Leviticus Cornwall?

Colter - Eastward Bound

Horseshoe Overlook - Polite Society, Valentine Style

Horseshoe Overlook - Americans at Rest

Horseshoe Overlook - Paying a Social Call

Horseshoe Overlook - Exit, Pursued by a Bruised Ego

Horseshoe Overlook - A Quiet Time

Horseshoe Overlook - Money Lending and Other Sins l, ll, & lll

Horseshoe Overlook - We Loved Once and True

Horseshoe Overlook - The Spines of America

Horseshoe Overlook - Who is Not Without Sin

Horseshoe Overlook - Blessed Are the Meek?

Horseshoe Overlook - The First Shall be the Last

Horseshoe Overlook - Pouring Forth Oil l & ll

Horseshoe Overlook - Pouring Forth Oil lll & lV

Horseshoe Overlook - A Fisher of Men

Horseshoe Overlook - An American Pastoral Scene

Horseshoe Overlook - The Sheep and the Goats

Horseshoe Overlook - A Strange Kindness

Clemons Point - The New South

Clemons Point - Further Questions of Female Suffrage

Clemons Point - American Distillation

Clemons Point - An Honest Mistake

Clemons Point - The Course of True Love I, II, & III

Clemons Point - Advertising, the New American Art

Clemons Point - Preaching Forgiveness as He Went

[ursaspecter]

Thinking about Molly on this day.

Thinking about how she was promised a thrilling life with Dutch and not having to lift a finger at camp. Thinking about how isolated she is from the other girls.

Thinking about how in Polite Society Valentine Style, Karen says that Molly is too good for them now. Now. Implying that maybe they were close before. Maybe she joined the gang while Annabell was still alive. Dutch picking Molly because she was new and didn't have as strong of a connection with everyone else making her the perfect target for his manipulation.

There's a moment where she gets upset at Karen for talking about her behind her back to which Karen replies with having no idea what she's talking about. Is Dutch telling her these things? That the other girls don't like her or are jealous of her? To keep her close?

Thinking about Molly and Sadie. Sadie also isn't really that close with the other girls save for a few conversations with Abigail. But she's new and she's in mourning. She's stuck with the gang because she doesn't have anywhere else to go. She's alone in the gang as well until chapter 3. There hasn't been enough time for her to really find her place in the gang. So what if Molly reached out to her? What if Sadie could be Molly's one true friend in the gang?

What if Sadie gave Molly the attention she's missing from Dutch? What if Molly could survive because of Sadie?

[lanidotexe]

RDR2 🤠 Polite Society, Valentine Style

[bluebellhairpin]

Hi Nemo! If you're willing, can you tell me about your selfship with Arthur? 👉👈 My husband IRL has played RDR and RDR2, but I feel like I still know next to nothing about him/his world, and I want to know how you fit into it! It's evident that he makes you happy, and I'd love to talk to you more about him, I just don't know where to start!

Love you, hope you're having a good day 🩶

"It's evident that he makes you happy" OMG YOU NOTICED 🥺🥺🥺

Anyway, oc/selfship lore dump below bc I could bet money that this is gonna get long lol

So like all my selfships, I like to throw together a little self insert oc to match - makes things more immersive imo.

This one is only known as Red. She's quiet and keeps to herself a lot. She doesn't partake in a lot of gang activities as far as the outlaw side of things go.

Like's to keep herself as honest as possible. She does learn to hunt after a while, and that helps her bring in money bc she sells most of what she kills. She attempted to learn pickpocketing off Mary-beth, but she "has too honest of a heart to fool anyone, they'd see (her) coming a mile away". So she sticks to keeping clean and straight as far as crimes go. She could turn to bounty hunting, but again - she doesn't really enjoy the risk of killing her bounty if things turned bad, so she avoids that too.

She also had a buckskin stallion called Leroy who is her little baby boy who can do no wrong, and who she pampers SO BAD. He's actually quite cuddly, and very protective of her.

If Red was a character in-game, she'd probably join the gang's girls in venturing into Valentine during 'Polite Society, Valentine Style'. Actually I can imagine her being someone who latches on as someone who joins in on missions rather than having any specific to her like other characters. She definitely plays a role as one of the main cast in the epilogue with John - if she had a solo mission with the player it'd probably be during that time.

Her relationship with Arthur though, following in-game canon, is so tricky. Like Arthur has. Trauma. Both his past canon relationships left him a bit messed up. Eliza died, and Mary left him - and and like it's messed with his self esteem so bad lol. So I can see both him and Red skirting around 'will they wont they' for a very long time - maybe even only deciding to comfort it at the very end of the game when Arthur's trying to 'fix' everything while he's still alive. Like there's a definite fondness, maybe even favoritism, between the two and it would definitely show though when they interacted. A lot of untapped potential - painfully so - if they weren't both so emotionally constipated.

Honestly the best part of the canon-esque storyline is post game. (AND IS ALSO WHY I THINK THIS HAS SEVERLY UNTAPPED PLOY SHIP POTENTIAL!!!) Her and Charles Smith wander off to Canada and use their mutual fondness of Arthur as a gateway to a really good relationship. They settle down on some land, get married, and start a family. They're each other's 'no one else understands what I've been though or how I feel except you' person. They both lost Arthur, and he does kind of haunt them - they name their first child, a daughter, Morgan, for him. (I think the relationship progress with Charles lies a lot with how straightforward I see him coming across as - in my head he doesn't hide how he feels so much, and by then Red has a lot of regret about not acting soon enough with Arthur, so she's a lot more willing to act by that point too.)

AND FIREND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON MY MORDEN AU THOUGHTS. They're a lot less sad, BUT GOOD GRIEF. SO MUCH MORE HORNY.

[notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder]

1 thought 1 mission: RDR2 Horseshoe Overlook

Polite Society, Valentine Style: AYO TOWN? AYO SHEEP? AYOOOOOOO NASTY MEN?

Americans at Rest: why are we cockblocking Javier- OH WE FIGHTING MKAY?

Paying a Social Call: BAM U DEAD, BAM U DEAD, OH SHIT IM DEAD

A Quiet Time: LEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNYYYYYYYY

Good, Honest, Snake Oil: What kind of fuckin CURE you talking about I will let you drown fucker

Exit Pursued by a Bruised Ego: omg old man father figure- BEAR BEAR BEAR BEAR BEAR BEAR

Blessed are the Meek: Is this gonna be like enemies to friends with Micah? Enemies to brothers in arms?

Who is Not without Sin: WHY AM I HUNTING DOWN A FUCKING REWEREND??

Money Lending and Other Sins: JA JA HERR STRAUSS NATÜRLICH ICH LIEBE GELD JA JA oh he's polish my ancestors-

The Spines of America: Oh fuck you I will steal this stagecoach so well he won't even know he ever had one

The First Shall be Last: I FUCKING LOVE SEAN

Pouring Forth Oil: I know who you are Marston lez go wolf boy

A Fisher of Men: I am a father. A fisher. A fishter.

We Loved Once and True: I GOT A GF- AND EX GF- CAN I ROMANCE- OH. oh. oh.

The Sheep and the Goats: What the fuck was the point Marston- SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT

An American Pastoral Scene: bRO I DO N O T LIKE YOU

A Strange Kindness: MOVING DAAAAAAAY- The fact I understand german makes me ofc better than Arthur <3

[poemshubs]

20th Century French Poet: Anna de Noailles

Anna de Noailles (1876-1933) was one of the most notable and influential French poets of the early 20th century. A figure who captured the complexities of emotions, human experience, and societal changes through her verses, she was often regarded as a poet of passionate and personal reflection. Her works oscillate between the themes of love, loss, and the transitory nature of life, giving her a prominent place in French literature during her time. Anna de Noailles’s poetry is marked by its emotional depth, vivid imagery, and a profound sense of individuality that resonated with a wide audience. This article explores her early life and education, literary career, writing style, emotional depth, notable poems, and influence on literature, offering a comprehensive analysis of her contribution to 20th-century French poetry.

Early Life and Education

Anna de Noailles was born Anna Elisabeth Sophie Marie de Noailles in Paris on November 15, 1876, into a distinguished aristocratic family. Her mother, the Countess de Noailles, was a prominent figure in the French nobility, while her father, the Romanian Prince George Valentin Bibescu, was a diplomat. Anna’s noble lineage provided her with access to a privileged education and a life filled with cultural and artistic exposure. From an early age, she was immersed in the artistic world, surrounded by literature, music, and philosophy, which would shape her worldview and literary sensibilities.

As a child, Anna de Noailles was deeply influenced by the works of French poets, including the Romantic writers who were highly celebrated during her upbringing. Her family’s salon hosted renowned intellectuals, writers, and artists of the day, and it was in these gatherings that Anna first began to develop her poetic voice. She received an education that reflected her aristocratic upbringing, but she also sought personal intellectual enrichment by engaging with a wide range of literary traditions and cultures. Fluent in French, German, and Romanian, Anna de Noailles had access to works from various traditions, broadening her literary horizon.

Anna’s formative years, filled with travel and exposure to the literary circles of Paris, shaped her as a poet who was both attuned to her cultural heritage and eager to explore the deeper emotional and philosophical questions of life. She also studied at the University of Paris, where she was exposed to classical literature, history, and philosophy. These academic experiences would later resonate in her poetry, with references to mythological and historical figures appearing throughout her works.

Literary Career

Anna de Noailles began her literary career in the late 19th century, a period marked by rapid social, political, and artistic transformations in France. The turn of the century was a time of innovation in literature, as Symbolism and the emerging Modernist movements started to shape the French literary landscape. Her first collection of poems, Le Cœur innombrable (The Innumerable Heart), was published in 1901, and it was met with critical acclaim. In this early work, Anna’s poetic voice emerged as one of intense emotional reflection, exploring themes of love, passion, and suffering.

Despite her aristocratic background, Anna de Noailles often drew from a range of cultural influences, combining personal experiences with a broader universal vision. Her works focused not only on personal love and loss but also on the socio-political themes of the time, touching upon subjects such as the role of women, the passage of time, and the fragility of human existence. Throughout her career, she maintained an artistic integrity that resonated with the changes in French society at the time, giving her poetry a sense of both individuality and universal relevance.

In 1903, Anna was awarded the prestigious Prix Femina, a literary prize that cemented her position as one of the leading female poets of her generation. This recognition helped her secure a larger audience, and her poetry continued to be widely published throughout the early decades of the 20th century. Anna de Noailles was an active participant in Paris’s literary scene, attending events and forging relationships with key figures of the time. Her circle included fellow writers, intellectuals, and political figures, such as Marcel Proust, Paul Valéry, and the painter Henri Matisse.

Her career spanned several decades, and her writing style evolved in response to the changing literary trends of the 20th century. While her early works were deeply emotional and romantic, she later explored more philosophical and intellectual themes, reflecting the growing influence of Modernist thought. Anna de Noailles continued to publish poetry, essays, and fiction until her death in 1933, leaving behind a rich body of work that has influenced generations of poets and writers.

Writing Style

Anna de Noailles’s writing style is often characterized by its intensity, vivid imagery, and emotional resonance. A poet of great sensitivity, she employed rich, lyrical language to convey the complexities of human experience, exploring themes of love, loss, beauty, and mortality. Her poetry is at times melancholic and reflective, yet it is also suffused with an enduring sense of hope and vitality. In her exploration of emotions, de Noailles often displayed an openness to paradoxes—love can be both joyous and painful, beauty can be fleeting yet eternal.

Her works were marked by a keen attention to nature, which she used as a metaphor for human emotions. The landscapes she described in her poems, from the changing seasons to the beauty of the French countryside, often acted as reflections of inner emotional states. The rich descriptions in her poetry evoke sensory experiences, from the scent of flowers to the colors of a sunset. In this, she aligned herself with the Symbolists, who believed in using language to evoke moods and feelings rather than representing reality in a straightforward manner.

Although Anna de Noailles’s early work was closely associated with the Symbolist movement, her style gradually evolved, incorporating elements of modernism. In contrast to some of the more experimental modernists of the time, however, she retained a focus on traditional poetic forms, such as sonnets, while still exploring new ways of engaging with the human experience. Her language is often simple but profound, with a lyrical flow that is both accessible and emotionally stirring. Through her use of meter and rhythm, Anna created poems that were both musical and intellectual.

De Noailles’s work also reflects the tension between the personal and the universal. While many of her poems center around her own emotional experiences—love, longing, and loss—she also imbues them with a sense of universal truth, turning her personal musings into reflections on the human condition. This ability to transcend the personal and speak to larger themes was one of the reasons her work resonated so deeply with readers and continues to do so today.

Emotional Depth

At the heart of Anna de Noailles’s poetry is an intense emotional depth. Her work captures the complexities of love, the struggles of the heart, and the sorrow of inevitable loss. Her poems often explore the contrast between fleeting beauty and the permanence of death, offering meditations on the fragility of life. Her writing speaks to the emotional turbulence of being human: the joy of love, the anguish of separation, and the contemplation of one’s own mortality.

In many of her works, Anna de Noailles presents love not as a straightforward, idealized emotion, but as something more multifaceted and nuanced. Her exploration of love reveals the ways it can be both joyous and painful, both unifying and isolating. In poems such as L’Inutile Beauté (The Useless Beauty), she reflects on the transitory nature of beauty and the impermanence of human experiences. In her later works, she engages more deeply with existential concerns, acknowledging the inevitability of death while also finding beauty in the process of living.

Her poems often reveal a longing for something beyond the immediate—be it love, understanding, or transcendence. This search for meaning imbues her work with a sense of yearning and depth, and it allows readers to connect with her on a deeply personal level. Despite the melancholic tone of many of her poems, de Noailles’s work also contains moments of sublime beauty, capturing the interplay between sorrow and hope that defines much of the human experience.

Notable Poems

Some of Anna de Noailles’s most significant works include Le Cœur innombrable (The Innumerable Heart), L’Inutile Beauté (The Useless Beauty), and Les Éblouissements (The Dazzlements). These poems exemplify her emotional depth, lyrical beauty, and philosophical reflections on life, love, and death.

Le Cœur innombrable (The Innumerable Heart)

Anna de Noailles’s first poetry collection, Le Cœur innombrable, was a pivotal work in her career, and it immediately established her as a prominent poet in the French literary scene. The collection is filled with poems about passionate love, yearning, and loss, and it sets the tone for much of her later work. The poems in Le Cœur innombrable are lyrical and emotional, capturing the inner workings of the heart and the complexities of human emotions.

L’Inutile Beauté (The Useless Beauty)

In L’Inutile Beauté, de Noailles reflects on the transient nature of beauty and the inevitability of aging and death. Through the title itself, she suggests that beauty, while cherished, is ultimately fleeting and, in the grand scheme of things, “useless.” This poem explores the complex relationship humans have with beauty, giving voice to a melancholic yet poignant reflection on the passage of time.

Les Éblouissements (The Dazzlements)

In Les Éblouissements, de Noailles delves into the contradictions of beauty and truth, exploring how external appearances can mislead and obscure deeper realities. The collection also continues her exploration of love and loss, expressing the tensions between inner desires and the external world.

Influence on Literature

Anna de Noailles’s influence on French poetry cannot be overstated. As a poet who bridged the gap between Symbolism and Modernism, she helped define a new era in French literary history. Her work spoke to the concerns of her time, offering readers a voice for the emotional complexities of the modern world. She is often regarded as one of the most significant female poets in French literature, and her influence extended beyond her own generation.

Her exploration of love, beauty, and mortality resonated with later poets, particularly those who sought to explore the inner workings of the human psyche. Her use of vivid imagery and lyricism paved the way for more experimental forms of poetry, influencing the development of 20th-century French poetry.

Conclusion

Anna de Noailles was a prominent and influential poet of the early 20th century, known for her emotional depth, lyrical beauty, and exploration of universal themes. From her aristocratic upbringing to her lasting impact on French literature, she remains an essential figure in the canon of French poetry. Through her passionate and poignant works, Anna de Noailles explored the complexities of love, loss, and the passage of time, leaving behind a body of work that continues to resonate with readers today.

[nityarawal]

February 14, 2024

Mamma Valentine

Morning Songs 

You're So Ambitious

Head Hunted Me 

From Your Death

Bed

What Is It We Crave

To Satisfy

Our Parents

Grace

What Is It We Crave

Mamma Valentine

You're So Ambitious

Headhunted Me

Marjorie Valentine

Off A Rock

Before You Became

A Centaurian

Last Rockette

And Passed

Mamma Valentine

Still Got A Few

Left

Missed Meeting

The Last Rockette

In New York

Cues Come

Cues Go

Quit Smoking Cigars

Over The Holidays

For A Kiss

From My Beloved

Troll

But Prince Of Pegging

Is Still

The Prime Minister

Old

Elephants In The

Room

It's Amazing

What True Love Does

Don't Want To Repel

A Soulmate

With Hate

Just All The Unwanted 

Stalkers

Mamma You're So

Ambitious

Moving On With 

A Plan

I Long To Be Free

Of This Society

I Long To Shut

It Down

For No Amount

Of Spoilin'

Will Make The Boys'

Club

Feel Better 'Bout

What's Been Done

Mamma

You're So Ambitious

You Survived

Apartheid

And Now World

War 3

How Do You Get

Under Their Spell

Got 2 Cavities

From Witches

Grating On Me

Youtubers Said

They Saw It Comin'

Tarot Card Readers

And Psychics

How Do You Survive

In The Black

Atty Bribes

How Do You Glow

Dance

Through The Eye

Of The Needle

Unscathed

Light And Bright

Eternal Love

Mother Maye I

Can We Join You

Need Refunds

For The Baes

A Pod To Deliver

Our Grace

Need Refunds

For Rewind

Would Like To Date

Your Elon Bond

And See If We

Can Pause Him

Long Enough

To Enjoy The 

Flowers

At The Beach

With The Children

Happy Taurus Elders 

Grazing

On A Camp 

California

Martians

Valentine

Retreat

Ferdinand Style

Check Compatibility

Make Sure "Giving Tree,"

Reeves' Are Happy

So We Don't

Deplete

Superboys

Soak Off The 

Political Stresses

And Make

Harmonies

Peace,

Nitya Nella Davigo Azam Moezzi Huntley Rawal 

[novelsmini]

Top ten Sci-fi novels along with theirs author and others info

  Certainly! Here are summaries of 10 classic science fiction novels, along with some information about their plots and characters:

1. **"Dune" by Frank Herbert**

   - **Plot:** Set in a distant future, it follows the story of Paul Atreides as he navigates the desert planet of Arrakis, the only source of a valuable spice called melange. The novel explores themes of power, religion, and ecology.

   - **Characters:** Paul Atreides, Duke Leto, Lady Jessica, Baron Harkonnen.

2. **"1984" by George Orwell**

   - **Plot:** This dystopian novel is set in a totalitarian society controlled by Big Brother. It follows Winston Smith, who rebels against the oppressive regime and seeks truth and freedom.

   - **Characters:** Winston Smith, Julia, Big Brother.

3. **"Neuromancer" by William Gibson**

   - **Plot:** A cyberpunk classic, it follows Case, a washed-up computer hacker hired for one last job. The novel is known for its virtual reality, hacking, and complex conspiracies.

   - **Characters:** Case, Molly Millions, Wintermute.

4. **"Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley**

   - **Plot:** In a futuristic world, society is conditioned to maintain stability and happiness through genetic engineering and mind control. The story revolves around Bernard Marx, who questions the system.

   - **Characters:** Bernard Marx, Lenina Crowne, John "the Savage."

5. **"Foundation" by Isaac Asimov**

   - **Plot:** This is the first book in the Foundation series. It centers on mathematician Hari Seldon's plan to preserve knowledge during the fall of a galactic empire and the rise of a new civilization.

   - **Characters:** Hari Seldon, Gaal Dornick, Brother Day.

6. **"Ender's Game" by Orson Scott Card**

   - **Plot:** The novel follows Ender Wiggin, a gifted child trained to lead humanity in a war against an alien race. It explores themes of leadership, morality, and the consequences of war.

   - **Characters:** Ender Wiggin, Valentine Wiggin, Colonel Graff.

7. **"The Left Hand of Darkness" by Ursula K. Le Guin**

   - **Plot:** In a world where the inhabitants are ambisexual androgynes, an Earth ambassador, Genly Ai, navigates cultural differences and political intrigue.

   - **Characters:** Genly Ai, Estraven, King Argaven.

8. **"Hyperion" by Dan Simmons**

   - **Plot:** A group of seven pilgrims, each with their own story, travels through a far-future universe. They share their tales on a journey to a mysterious, time-altering structure called the Shrike.

   - **Characters:** Martin Silenus, Brawne Lamia, The Consul.

9. **"Snow Crash" by Neal Stephenson**

   - **Plot:** Set in a cyberpunk world, it follows Hiro Protagonist, a hacker and pizza delivery driver, as he investigates a virtual drug called Snow Crash and its connection to a linguistic virus.

   - **Characters:** Hiro Protagonist, Y.T., L. Bob Rife.

10. **"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" by Douglas Adams**

    - **Plot:** This comedic space odyssey follows the unwitting Arthur Dent as he is whisked away from Earth just before its destruction and joins an eclectic group of interstellar travelers.

    - **Characters:** Arthur Dent, Ford Prefect, Zaphod Beeblebrox.

These novels offer a wide range of themes and storytelling styles within the science fiction genre, making them essential reads for fans of the genre.

For more info visit here -https://novelsmini.blogspot.com/

[nthspecialll]

Ever noticed that when the girls talk about Molly in "polite society, valentine style" they say "she is too high and mighty to be with us NOW" and "she is a society lady NOW"? What the fuck do you mean now?

[annaphoenix1994]

Horseshoe Overlook - Polite Society, Valentine Style

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

"You sure you'll be alright here by yourself?" Jameson asked Minnie as she helped him mount her horse.

"I know I will, nothin' is gonna happen while you're away," She assured. "Now, smoke you a pipe as Trace leads the way. He'll take care of you and knows when there's trouble," She explained. "Now, if he starts to get antsy, hang on!" She giggled. She could tell her father was intimidated by her horse who towered over anything close to him, but he knew that she was confident in her horse as he had been in her possession for a few years now. Trace was considered "broker than broke" as he was more used to gunfire and running than walking along a trail, which Minnie considered to be a good break for him as he toted her father along the way to the town of Valentine, which was a good hour-long ride at a walk.

"Be good, I'll see you when you get back tonight!" She cheered.

"You too," Her father replied.

"I was talkin' to Trace," Minnie teased.

"I see where I stand!" He joked.

She playfully scoffed, "Get outta here!"

She smiled and shook her head as she returned to her duties around the cabin. Sweeping the porch, making the beds, tidying the cabinets, and tending to the chickens while replacing the straw that lined their nesting boxes. She enjoyed being an outlaw, but something about the simple and honest life suited her. She guessed it was where her mother had always wanted to be. 'Momma would slap me blind if she knew how I made a livin',' Minnie said to herself as she wiped her hands on her apron, letting her thoughts wander to the loving memories of her mother, not paying any mind to the two pairs of eyes watching her from the treeline a few hundred yards away.

"Is that her?" One of the stalkers asked the other, using his green scarf to wipe the beads of sweat on his temple.

"Oh, that's her," The other one replied, licking his lips.

"Should we go and get her?"

"No, we go back and tell Colm where she's at, then he'll give us the go," He explained. "The place is nice and quiet - good to lie low for a while. Colm's itchin' to get off of that mountain."

"Why is he sending us after this woman anyway?"

"He didn't tell you? That's Minnie Barlow - the most dangerous woman outlaw since Pearl Hart!"

"So he has some sort of crush?"

"I guess you can call it that. He met her in a saloon a while ago and she threatened his life. Reckon it embarrassed him since he expected to get along so well with another outlaw, but you know how Colm is. His pride gets the better of 'em. She also has a high bounty of a few thousand dollars. Enough to get us outta here for a while!"

He scoffed, "Shit, I say let's get her now and take the money and return it to Colm!"

"No, we do as he says. Let's hurry and get back. Reckon he'll want to make a move when her father gets back. You go to Valentine and scope things out and I'll get back to camp," He directed as the other man nodded. "Don't screw this up!"

───※ ·❆· ※───

Arthur closed his journal and put on his jacket, which was something he was eager to wear as it was lightweight, yet warm. Something to keep the morning chill off of his shoulders. He looked around the new camp as he placed his hat on his head, nodding at Hosea as he approached him with a hot cup of coffee.

"Arthur," Hosea nodded.

"Hosea," He greeted, taking the warm tin cup from the old man's hands.

"Quite a day!" Hosea smiled, his arms wide.

"Let's hope so," Arthur grunted, taking a sip of the coffee.

"There's a bunch of the boys already in Valentine. Bill, Charles, and Javier... I'm sure they're, uh, finding some way of relieving some stress, and Swanson found something down at the train station by the lake apparently. And Strauss came back with that creepy little smile on his face. I'm sure there's a whole list of unfortunates he's forced money upon," Hosea explained as he watched Arthur sip his coffee, yawning in between.

Arthur chuckled, "Thank you. And you?"

"I'm gonna read a book," Hosea replied hastily.

Arthur nodded with a chuckle, finding a comfort in talking to the old man as he will forever look up to him as a father figure - something he never had, or at least he never remembered.

He was eager to get out and explore the Heartlands, but he would also rather sit back and rest without having to use all of his energy to stay warm. He looked around as he walked to the pot to get a bowl of stew, scarfing it down before making his way to the sleeping older man sitting up against a wagon. The man went by the name 'Uncle,' which nobody knew his real name, nor did they want to know. All Arthur knew him as was the old man who was just another mouth to feed, but was much entertainment when the camp needed it. He at least had some stories, whether they were true or not.

He shook his head as he stormed over to the old man, waking him with a solid kick to the leg. "Careful not to work yourself to death there, Uncle," Arthur said.

"I was thinkin'," Uncle replied as he staggered to his feet, his white beard stained with tobacco just below his bottom lip.

"Does it pay well?"

"Eventually," Uncle grumbled as Arthur placed a palm on his shoulder.

"So, while the rest of us are busy stealin', killin', lyin', fighting to try to survive, you get to think all day," Arthur explained. 

"It's a strange world we live in, Arthur Morgan," Uncle said.

"Do you wanna head into town, see if we can find anything out?" He proposed.

"Sure, I got some errands to run!"

"Great, go check the horses are ready," Arthur commanded as Uncle did as he was told with a grumble.

"If you're gonna take the old man into town, can you take us too?" Karen Jones asked as she eavesdropped into their conversation.

"Why, what you got planned?" Arthur asked, striking a match on the bottom of his boot, lighting a well-needed cigarette.

"Nothin'," Karen replied, waving her hand for Mary-Beth and Tilly Jackson to follow her, hoping to pressure Arthur into taking them into town. "We'll find somethin' for y'all to do, we always do!"

"We're bored out of our minds!" Mary-Beth added, her brown eyes begging Arthur for approval. "Karen's about ready to murder Grimshaw!" She giggled.

"Well, can Miss Grimshaw spare you?" Arthur asked, puffing his cigarette.

"Can't Miss Grimshaw spare you?" Karen repeated. "What's happened to you, Arthur? Three young healthy women want you to take 'em robbing and you're worried about house chores! Let's go!" Karen begged.

"Fair enough, you got me," Arthur chuckled, throwing away his cigarette as the women loaded themselves up onto the wagon.

The women cheered in excitement as they were about to see civilization, something completely opposite from Arthur's thoughts, of course, but he was eager to see other people aside from the ones he shared his life with. He could definitely use a drink, especially sharing a bench seat with Uncle.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Howdy!" Jameson Barlow said as he entered the general store, making his presence known to the shopkeeper and his long-time friend, Graham.

"How're you, sir?" Graham replied.

"Eh, I'm gettin' on," Jameson replied. "I need some produce and canned foods. Runnin' low back at the cabin!" He chuckled.

"I understand. I just got these in this past Tuesday - nice and fresh! How's little Anna doin'?" Graham asked, referring to Minnie by her middle name as he knew she was well known around Valentine. He and Jameson have become close friends throughout the years as they once attended church together and he kept a close eye on the rumors he had heard, wanting to do his best to protect Jameson and Minnie as he held them dear to his heart.

"She's doin' well. She's actually stayin' with me for a few days I reckon. I don't like when she goes out on her own like that," Jameson frowned, referring to her "work" as an outlaw. If he could change one thing, it would to keep her a good, honest young lady instead of a thief, but nonetheless, he loved her.

Graham nodded, "I understand. I haven't seen her in a while. I miss seein' her little curly blonde hair on Sunday mornin' when she was little!" He chuckled. "Miss hearin' those church songs, too. She has the voice of an angel!"

"That she does. She didn't learn it from me! That's all her momma's doin'!" Jameson smiled. "I think I'll get me a couple of cigars and a bottle of whiskey. Can't leave out the whiskey!" The men shared a laugh as Graham gladly packed up Jameson's provisions, nodding at the new customers who had walked through the door. "Good day, gentlemen!" Graham greeted. Jameson turned to look at the men, one of them around his age, but with a coarser white beard and the other around Minnie's age, wearing a worn leather hat and light leather jacket. He took note of the bright blue shirt he had on underneath as it was one of his favorite colors.

New faces.

Jameson nodded at the new faces as he made his way out the door of the general store, taking a seat on the bench just outside, cracking open the new bottle of whiskey.

"I'm gonna run to the saloon real quick, Arthur," The old man addressed as they were now outside the general store as well. The younger man nodded as he walked towards Jameson, greeting him. "You mind if I rest here, bud?" He asked.

"Sure!" Jameson said as he scooted closer to the edge of the bench, giving the younger man plenty of room as he was broader than most young men he had seen in the area. 

"Name's Jameson," He said after taking another sip of whiskey, offering his hand to the other man.

"Arthur," He nodded, shaking his hand.

"You from 'round here?"

"Not really," Arthur shook his head. "We've been travellin' for a while, tryin' to find somewhere to settle down. So far, we think this place looks good."

"You and your wife?" Jameson assumed.

Arthur chuckled, "Nah, I don't have a wife. Me and a few of my colleagues were laid off from our jobs at the oil plant. Guess we're livin' like a bunch of gypsies now, but that's all we have." He chuckled.

"I'm sorry, friend. Times is tough nowadays. You sound like my daughter. She's all the time travellin' and I get worried. Gangs and all that," Jameson explained. "She used to be a homebody, never wanting to leave home. I guess she grew out of that,"

"What's her name?" Arthur asked, getting a hint that he was talking about who he thought he was. 

"Anna." Jameson replied after a brief pause. 

Arthur chuckled, resting his suspicion, "You folk from around here?"

Jameson shrugged, "Somewhat. We moved here from Annesburg years ago, right before Min-Anna was born," He hastily corrected himself, hoping Arthur didn't take note, in which he did, but kept a calm demeanor when he was erratic inside. "We were real big into church for a few years. Anna sang in the choir and has the voice of an angel. I wish she'd sing more when she's home. Reminds me of her momma. She passed a couple of years ago," He frowned.

"I'm sorry to hear that, friend," Arthur assured. "I can tell you were sweet on her."

"I sure was," Jameson chuckled, remembering his lovely wife. "I don't know much about you, friend, but I can tell you have more heart than any other fool who sat and listened to my troubles. When you find that special person, you'll know. Once you do, don't ever let them go. Anything can happen and it's a hard feeling, but it's worth it in the end - to have all kinds of special memories with someone you hold dear to your heart. My daughter is the only thing I have left and I try so desperately to hang on to her, but when she leaves, I worry that she won't come back and that's what keeps me up at night." He explained.

Arthur's heart broke for the man, realizing that he had never had this type of feeling before. He actually wanted to listen to him and his stories. Not just because he put together the pieces that Minnie Barlow was his daughter, but Jameson had a heart that reminded him of himself. He cared deeply about those close to him, but a stranger would never know it.

"I hope things get better for you, friend," Arthur sighed. "What does she do, if you don't mind me askin'?"

Jameson sighed, not wanting to tell Arthur in fear of him being a bounty hunter, but something about Arthur told him that he could be trusted as he didn't seem the one to seek information so boldly. He at least cared to hear about her life story beforehand. "She's, uh, I guess you can say a traveller..."

He really wanted to get her secret off of his chest as he has kept it inside for almost ten years now.

But for her safety, he couldn't.

"She works here and there as a journalist. She's been back and forth to Saint Denis a many a time. I worry, but she has been takin' the train a lot, so I don't worry as much," He lied. Arthur took note of this, but he understood why. All he could do was nod as he listened.

"I'm sure she will be fine, sir," Arthur replied. "So, I see you got some bait here, you like to hunt?" He asked, changing the subject.

"I sure do. I like goin' after deer and elk, but I'm not as young as I used to be." He chuckled.

"You sound just like my father," Arthur smirked, referring to Hosea.

"If you're ever free, I live north of Citadel Rock back in the woods. It's a little cabin that I named 'Six Point Cabin' after my wife..." He suggested.

"I'll give that some thought," Arthur nodded. "Why'd you name it that, if I may ask?"

"She killed a six-point buck before she passed and thought it was the greatest trophy in the world. She remembered that for a long time as it made her dearly happy as she never went huntin' much, especially for deer," Jameson smiled. "Like I was tellin' ya, when you love someone that much, you remember the things that make them more happy than yourself," He explained, pointing his finger. "I remember her every day looking at that trophy over my fireplace, remembering how happy it made her. And come to think of it, I remember her every day I see my daughter. I guess she's the last thing I have left of her and I worry every day about losin' her. I guess it's better to have loved and lost than never loved at all," He frowned. "Anyway, I won't keep ya much longer. I gotta get back," He continued as he slowly rose to his aching feet. "It was nice to meet you, Arthur." 

Arthur nodded as he shook the old man's hand, watching him walk towards a tall buckskin Quarter Horse, putting his provisions in the saddlebags. Jameson turned to Arthur once more, "I gotta run to the hotel real quick and wash up, care to keep an eye on the horse for me? The old bastard will spook on my watch!" Jameson joked.

"Sure thing!" Arthur nodded as he looked at the horse once more, taking in how beautiful the animal was. 'He must've paid good money for that one,' Arthur thought. To pass the time, he pulled out his journal, noting a quick sketch of the horse for his memory before writing a brief passage:

He closed his journal, feeling better that his thoughts made it from his brain to paper. He leaned back in the bench, stretching out his legs and crossing them at his ankles as he crossed his arms over his chest, bowing his head to rest his eyes. He soon was joined by Uncle, hearing him through his muffled thoughts, going on about how he pictured himself to be married to an heiress by now instead of moving with a band of outlaws.

Small patters of shoes gently nudged him awake, seeing that Mary-Beth had some interesting information for the men. He sat up slowly, looking at the woman as she kept her voice hushed. He blinked the sleep from his eyes as he listened to her explain.

"Gentlemen, I think I got somethin' good!" Mary-Beth proposed, giggling at how rapidly Arthur blinked as he tried to keep his focus on her when his main focus was on napping.

"What?" Arthur slurred.

"I snuck into this fancy house - acted like a servant girl, usually works," She explained. "Someone was saying her sister was taking a trip from New York or someplace. Train full of rich tourists heading to Saint Denis and then cruising off to Brazil!"

"Okay," Arthur nodded, his attention fully on her.

"A train laden with baggage and passing through a bit of deserted country at night as to get to the docks in time for the tides in some place called Scarlett Meadows..."

"Yeah, I know it," Uncle nodded, his face plastered with a cheeky grin. "Yeah, yeah, it's right out near New Hanover. Right, it's real quiet out there,"

"Sounds good," Arthur nodded, scratching his growing beard. 'I really need to get a shave!' He thought. "Where's Tilly and Karen?" He asked.

Mary-Beth scoffed, "I think at the hotel, they were pickin' up some drunken fellers that they was going to rob-"

"Why?" Arthur asked, almost panicked.

"Seemed easy!" She argued. "They have been gone for quite a while..."

Arthur sighed, "I guess I'll go see if there's any trouble," He groaned as he stood to his tired feet, feeling Mary-Beth's hand graze his arm as he walked by, getting his attention.

"There's Tilly over there!" She pointed. "That does not look ideal..." She trailed off as she watched a tall colored man grabbing all over her, almost dragging her to the alleyway to the side of the hotel.

"Excuse me," Arthur growled as he quickly made his way to the scene, wasting no time in intervening.

"You thought I wouldn't find you, Tilly?" The colored man hissed as Arthur was coming closer to the pair.

"You can go kiss a damn snake for all I care! Get off me!" Tilly pleaded.

"Get your hands off her, friend," Arthur sneered, relieving his pistol from its holster.

"Who are you?" The colored man growled.

"A friend of mine!" Tilly replied.

"Get off her," Arthur said in a low tone, hinting that his next move would be fatal if he didn't follow direction.

"Or what exactly?" He taunted.

"You wanna find out?" Arthur questioned, pulling back the hammer slowly.

The colored man backed off slowly, pointing his finger at Tilly, "You're makin' a big mistake, Tilly Jackson," He warned.

"Just get lost!" She hissed before turning and walking towards Arthur, seeking his protection.

"I ain't doin' this with you right now!" He mumbled.

"Go wait with Uncle and Mary-Beth, they're across the street," Arthur directed.

"Okay, thanks Arthur," She smiled. He nodded as he gently pats her shoulder, "Uncle! Look after her! I'm gonna go see about Karen in the hotel!"

He steadily made his way into the hotel of Valentine, politely asking the receptionist about the woman's whereabouts, informing him that she was in her mid-twenties and had blonde hair and was last seen with a man. The receptionist nodded as he said a woman fitting her description made her way upstairs not too long ago.

"A-Are you a friend of his?" He dared to ask.

"A friend of hers," Arthur grit. "Where is she?"

"Uh, 2B! Please, no trouble!"

"Just a word," Arthur assured as he ascended the stairs, cracking his knuckles as he knew this wasn't going to be pretty.

"Get off of me!" He heard Karen plead. His pace became faster as he tried to pinpoint the exact location of 2B. He gripped the knob firmly, growing agitated that it was locked. Instead, he stepped back and got enough momentum to kick open the door, seeing a man in his underwear putting his hands all over Karen. Sure, Arthur could be a bad man and easily kill a man, but something about a man putting his hands all over a woman made his blood boil.

"Hey!" Arthur shouted.

"Who are you?" The stranger questioned, obvious that he was drunk. Arthur quickly scanned the room, growing more aggravated that he saw Karen's lip bleeding.

"A friend of hers," Arthur growled.

"Get outta here, buddy, I paid!" The stranger slurred.

"Ain't paid to hit her, you goddamn animal!" He said as he balled his fists, lunging at the man before he had a chance to lunge at him. Arthur was upset that it was a brief fight, but was glad it was over with.

"What the hell were you doin' here?" He questioned her.

"Tryin' to play him... Not very well," She explained.

"You okay?" He asked, looking her over.

"Fine..." She said, waving her hand and gripping her wrist as Arthur ushered for her to walk in front of him just in case the stranger got another wild streak to come after her again.

"You sure?" He continued to question as they were now walking down the hallway.

"Yeah, nothing... Nothing to worry about... Just men, but, stupid bastard - the stupid bastard was boasting about the bank..." She explained.

"The bank?"

"Sure, I know small-town banks are usually a waste of time, but this is a livestock town, there's lots of cash sometimes," Karen explained as they descended the stairs.

"Okay," Arthur said as he scratched his beard. "Keep investigating,"

"I will," Karen breathed. He nodded at the receptionist as he ushered Karen outside, motioning for her to meet the others at the general store. He looked both ways before crossing the muddy street, taking note of the buckskin Quarter Horse still hitched next to the general store.

"Thank you, Arthur," Karen said, holding her cheek. "I don't much like bein' saved, but when I have to be,"

"I understand," Arthur assured her as they met up with the others, Mary-Beth and Tilly quickly tending to Karen's injuries.

"You okay?"

"Sure, he only punched me!" Karen replied. Arthur chuckled as he pat her shoulder in assurance, knowing that she secretly wanted it. "Arthur punched him a lot harder."

"Yeah, alright then," He replied, furrowing his brows as he looked at Mary-Beth, seeing the concern in her eyes.

"Hey, who's that guy over there looking at us?" She whispered.

"Weren't you in Blackwater a few weeks back?" A well-tailored stranger questioned.

"Me? No, sir. Ain't from there," Arthur replied sternly.

"Oh, you were. Well, I definitely saw you. With a bunch of fellers!" He accused from the back of his horse.

"Me? No," Arthur shook his head. "Impossible. Listen, buddy, come here for a minute," He coaxed.

"I saw you!" He spat, spooking his horse. "Come on, get!" He encouraged.

"I don't like this..." Uncle said as Arthur turned to the others.

"Me neither," He groaned, rushing to the buckskin horse, hoping he won't regret his decision. "Go get the girls home! I'm gonna go have a word with our friend," He explained as he mounted the tall horse.

"Be careful, Arthur!" Tilly said.

"Just a word!" He replied as he encouraged the horse into a gallop, amazed at the animal's agility and speed. 'Jesus Christ, what an animal!' He thought to himself as the horse made it seem easy to stay caught up with the stranger.

"Hey! That's my horse!" He heard Jameson yell from the hotel as it was now clear that Jameson was done with his chore.

"Just borrowing it!" Arthur yelled in response, hating himself for feeling like he stole an old man's reliable horse for his own selfish need. The horse had no trouble in catching up to the stranger, almost stopping on a dime when Arthur asked him to slow down to dismount as the stranger had now fallen off, hanging dearly to the cliffside.

"Why are you tellin' lies about me?" Arthur questioned.

"No, no! I-I-I got it wrong, partner... I got it very wrong, now please, help me up!" He begged.

"I ain't never been in Blackwater," Arthur growled.

"Then why are you chasing me?"

"I've got an unfortunate face!"

"Yes, yes... Me too... Now please, pull me up, please!" The stranger cried.

"Alright... Come on," Arthur sighed as he easily pulled the stranger to safety. "You okay, partner?" He asked.

"No... No, I am not," The stranger groaned as he staggered to his feet. "I'm a mess," He panted, looking at his now dirty clothes.

"Well, you ain't dead," Arthur reminded.

"There is that," He breathed, bracing his palms against his knees before standing up straight, offering his hand to shake. "Jimmy Brooks."

"I think it's best for both of us if we pretend this never happened," Arthur explained.

"Oh, I agree," Jimmy Brooks nodded. "You saved my life. You're a good man and I, err... Here, you want a pen? It's one of those steel ones!" He bargained, pulling the pen from his pocket.

Arthur nodded, amazed at the new stationery before him, "Oh, that's very kind of you, but I'm not a good man, Jimmy Brooks, not usually," He said before stepping closer to him. "You see, I was in Blackwater. I kill people. And maybe I should've killed you. Should I have killed you, Jimmy Brooks?" He intimidated, keeping eye contact with the man.

His lip quivered as he searched for a response, "Me?... I n-never saw you... Not-not now, not-not never... I think we have an understanding?"

"Of course we do," Arthur replied. "Jimmy Brooks - I will remember that. I've got a good memory," He smirked.

"I haven't! Not one lick in this old mind!" Jimmy pleaded as he made his way to his horse. Arthur shook his head as he approached the horse he had borrowed, admiring how the horse was patiently waiting on him to mount back up. A brief thought crossed his mind that if he didn't know the man who owned the horse, he would keep it as his own, but he knew the horse had to return to its rightful owner: Jameson.

The horse loped slowly along the trail until he arrived back in town, meeting Jameson halfway as he was happy to see the horse's return. "My horse! Thank you!" He smiled as Arthur dismounted.

"I told ya I was just borrowin' him!" Arthur chuckled.

"Well, my daughter would've had my hide if I let somethin' happen to her horse!" He joked. "His name is Trace," Jameson added.

"Well, Trace is a very nice animal. You're lucky, sir," Arthur said. "I had a horse like him once. Big mare who I called Boadicea," He explained.

"That's an interesting name..." Jameson replied, stroking Trace's muzzle.

Arthur chuckled, "My father named her that after a queen," He explained, his cheeks flushed as he was embarrassed.

"Ain't nothin' to be shy about, my friend. Thank you for bringing him back. Saves my daughter the heartache and me the headache!" He joked, winning a laugh from Arthur.

"I'd say so, sir," He smirked. He held out his hand to him as they have now earned each other's respect and trust. "Arthur Morgan,"

"Jameson Barlow,"

His suspicion was now confirmed: he had borrowed Minnie Barlow's horse and had a deep conversation with her father.

And now she may kill me for ridin' her horse...

[morgan-macguire]

Polite Society, Valentine Style

Arthur Morgan x reader

Summary: Arthur brings the girls and Uncle into town

Warnings: an angry drunk, fighting

A/n: this is based on the mission “Polite Society, Valentine Style” :) I originally had the idea after replaying the mission and thinking about Arthur going to help the guy get his horse back to impress y/n hehe

Masterlist

Not my gif

Horseshoe overlook had begun to turn stale. Two weeks of nothing but Pearson’s stew and Uncle bumming around had nearly driven all of the girls at camp crazy. All you had to occupy yourselves with was chores, and Susan wouldn’t let you forget it. Karen and her were getting into more disputes than usual, and it was up to the rest of you to keep them from killing each other.

You’d need to get out soon, or you’d all loose your minds. So when you overheard Uncle trying to get Arthur to take him to town, you all jumped at the opportunity.

The plan was simple: Karen would go in first and you’d all just pry until Arthur said yes. Originally, Karen wanted you to go first. Her favorite past time seemed to be teasing you about Arthur. She wanted you to go first, insisting, “Arthur’ll do anything you ask,” but you protested. You argued that she’d be the better lead, and didn’t give her any time to argue back.

She didn’t miss the opportunity to point out the blush across your cheeks, of course. When Arthur finally agreed to take Uncle, you all knew it was now or never.

“If you’re going to take the old man to town, could you take us too?” Karen asked as you, Tilly, and Mary Beth walked up anxiously.

Arthur glanced to the four of you, pulling out a cigarette.

“Why, what you got planned?”

“Nothing.. We’ll find something for y’all to do. We always do.”

Arthur seemed unconvinced, so Mary Beth spoke up.

“We’re bores out of our minds! Been cooped up here for two weeks now.”

You nodded, approaching Arthur with the girls, “Karen’s about ready to murder Grimshaw,” Tilly let out a wholesome laugh at your comment, “don’t know how much longer we can hold her back.”

Arthur seemed amused, “Can Grimshaw spare you?”

With an exaggerated look of offense, Karen squared up to Arthur. “‘Can Grimshaw spare you?’ What’s happened to you, Arthur? Four young healthy women want you to take ‘em robbing, and you’re worried about house chores?”

Arthur‘s eyes flicked from Karen to you, searching for your input.

“She can’t yell at us if we aren’t here.” You added, sharing a subtle smirk with the cowboy.

With a low chuckle, he agreed to take the four of you along. With a cheer of excitement, the four of you raced towards the wagon. Arthur followed, hanging back. He waited for the rest of the girls to climb up. As you stepped up to the wagon, he held his hand out for you, assisting you up.

When Arthur left to climb up into the drivers seat, the girls erupted into giggles. You sat by Mary Beth, cheeks burning red with another blush. Karen didn’t hesitate to point this out, again, and you rolled your eyes with a laugh.

A few minutes into the ride, Uncle looked back to the four of you. “Ladies, sing us a song.”

Usually, none of you would do anything Uncle asked, but you were feeling good today. Karen led the rest of you in, singing “I got a girl in Berryville.”

You all shouted the words, excitement pooling in your bellies as you neared Valentine, but the song was cut short by a coach gone Haywire along the road. One of the horses got loose, and it galloped across the road into the trees. Arthur stopped the wagon in time before it came into contact with the horse.

“Is one of you gonna get that fellers horse?” Tilly called. Uncle pulled some lame excuse, claiming he had lumbago, and remained in his seat.

“Oh, won’t you help him, Arthur?” Mary Beth asked with a frown. Arthur looked back at the four of you, eyes landing on you. You glanced from the stranger to his horse, then back to Arthur with a pleading glint in your eyes.

Arthur climbed down from the wagon, announcing that he’d see what was going on. As he walked over to speak to the stranger, Karen gave your leg a gentle kick.

“He’s trying to impress you!” She spoke quietly, followed by a chorus of agreements from Tilly and Mary Beth.

You shook your head, trying to hide the pink that crept up your cheeks.

“Come on, y/n, we all know what’s going on between you two.” Tilly smiled.

You watched Arthur go after the runaway horse. “Nothin’s going on!”

The girls all rolled their eyes, laughing at your blush.

“Sure, and Uncle here has Lumbago.” Karen joked, earning an “It’s true!” From Uncle.

You all watched as Arthur calmed the horse with virtually no trouble, before taking hold of its reins and leading it towards the coach.

“Well done Arthur!” You couldn’t help but cheer in excitement. The girls all smirked at you, but you did your best to ignore them.

Arthur handed the Shire back to its owner, and returned to the wagon.

“You’re turning into a regular old Fairy Godmother there, Arthur.” Uncle joked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur tightened his grip on the reins, glancing to the old drunk.

“It means you’ve got a heart.” Mary Beth called out before she called Uncle a heartless old lizard.

“Lizards have hearts!” Uncle huffed, crossing his arms.

“Well, we’re proud of you, Arthur.” Tilly patted his shoulder.

“To be honest..” Arthur chuckled, “If you lot weren’t here, I probably would have robbed him.”

“I highly doubt that, Mr. Morgan.”

Arthur thanked the heavens that you couldn’t see his face. His own cheeks heated up at your comment, so he laughed it off and continued into town.

—

“Oooh yes, we can get up to some mischief here alright.” You looked around Valentine, enjoying seeing civilization for the first time in two weeks.

“Just remember to stay safe.. and keep a low profile.” Arthur warned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Will you remember that though, Arthur?” You teased the cowboy.

He laughed, pulling on the reins to stop the wagon.

“Probably not. I’ll do my best.”

You all hopped off the wagon. Although you planned to accompany Arthur into the store, Karen dragged you away, telling you of some grand money making idea she had just thought of.

You and the girls all disappeared into the saloon after you exchanged a sheepish smile with Mr. Morgan himself.

—

Mary Beth woke Arthur up. She came to him and Uncle to tell them about a train robbery tip she had come across.

“Where’re the other girls?” Arthur asked Mary Beth, looking around the small town for you.

“I think at the hotel. They was picking up some drunken fellows that they was gonna rob.”

Arthur sat up straight, alarm bells ringing in his head. His eyes darted to the hotel, “Why?”

Mary Beth mumbled out a quiet “Seemed easy,” before furrowing her brows and looking over to the hold building, “They have been gone for quite a while..”

“I’ll go see if there’s any trouble.”

As Arthur stood up to go find you, he saw Tilly being dragged behind the building. He quickly excused himself, rushing over to stop the man from harassing Tilly. Tilly soon went to wait with Uncle and Mary Beth, while Arthur ventured inside the hotel. He was immediately greeted by Karen, counting a few dollar bills as she walked towards the exit.

“Hey Arthur!” She smiled, showing him what she acquired.

“Karen,” he noticed that she was alone, “where’s y/n?”

She shrugged, “She went into a room with some drunken fellow not too long ago. Should’ve been done by now.”

As if on cue, a loud crash sounded from overhead, followed by an frightened shout in a familiar voice. Arthur’s blood ran cold, and he rushed up the stairs to find the source of the sound. As he neared your room, he could hear a loud commotion on the other side of the door. Your voice was muffled, but became clearer and clearer as he got closer. The panic in your voice led his feet to room 2B.

“Get off of me!” You shouted through the door. Arthur tried the doorknob, but it was locked.

“I’m getting what I paid for.” He heard the man inside tell you. A moment later, Arthur heard a painful thud along with a cry of agony from you. Molten anger rolled through him, boiling in his stomach and roaring in his ears. The door didn’t stand a chance against Arthur Morgan.

When he finally got inside, Arthur seethed at the sight. If looks could kill, the stranger you’d picked up would be six feet below already.

You were on the ground, hands clutching your face. The stranger was standing in front of you with his fist raised in the air. “Who are you?” The man snapped. Arthur had to restrain himself from pulling out his revolver and putting a bullet in the mans brain that second. He refrained, favoring the alternate option to beat some manners into the drunk.

His hands were clenched into fists instantly, and he was surprised steam wasn’t flowing from his ears, “A friend of hers, you goddamn animal.”

You crawled to the corner of the room to stand yourself up as Arthur swung at your attacker. The man faltered, but didn’t back down. He put up his own fists, throwing a sloppy punch in Arthur’s direction. You cried out when the punch landed on Arthur’s jaw, but neither of them paid any attention. The liquor had kicked in, causing the stranger to quickly loose his footing. Arthur was given the opportunity to hit him again, this time knocking him to the ground. Arthur straddled the stranger, relentlessly punching him in the face.

It wasn’t until you cried out again, rushing to grab onto Arthur’s arm, did he stop hitting the man.

“Don’t kill him, Arthur! The law will be hot on our tail.”

Arthur’s face softened as he looked up at you. He was off the unconscious man in an instant, coming to your side.

“What the hell were you doing here?” He asked, reaching to examine your new black eye.

“Trying to play him. Not very well, I guess.” You frowned, looking down to the floor in shame.

“You okay?” His hands fell from your face reluctantly.

With a short nod, you tried to turn away from him. Arthur stopped you, gently tilting your head so you’d look at him.

“You sure?”

Your voice wavered slightly, but you did your best to push through it as you pulled away from his hands. “Yeah. It’s nothing.. nothing to worry about, it’s just.. men. The stupid bastard. Stupid bastard was boasting about the bank. He said he made big money there, lots of it.” The room grew quiet for a moment while you took a deep breath, “I don’t know, I just- I thought he’d be an easy score. I thought he’d have lots of cash on him.” Tears pooled in your eyes, but you held them back. Of course, nothing went unnoticed by Arthur.

“C’mere,” he opened his arms, gently bringing you into his warm chest. “It’s alright, you’re alright.”

If Arthur hadn’t come to find you, you’d be in serious trouble. You shuddered at the thought of what the man could have done, and swore at yourself for getting into such a situation in the first place.

“Thank you, Arthur.” You mumbled into his jacket.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he told you, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Let’s get outta here.” You reluctantly separated yourself from Arthur, sparing one more look at the drunk sprawled out on the floor. Arthur sure had done a number on him, you were thankful he had shown up when he did.

Arthur offered you his arm to grasp on to and led you out of the hotel.

[noodlezara]

“You’re my favourite parasite.

No, ringworm is my favourite parasite. You’re my second favourite.

No...ringworm, then rats with the plague, then you.”