#mac callander

[zarkishere]

RDR2 RELATIONSHIP CHART!

free to use, just credit me if you do :) (also tag me if you use it for rdr2 oc's i'd love that hehe)

Young Jack ver ⤴️

Old Jack ver ⤵️

notes cuz i love overthinking shit :

EVERYONE except Micah, Sadie and Kieran have both little hair thingies

for Micah it's cuz....yknow. he's not really part. he's the rat. doesn't even have one of the two.

For Sadie and Kieran they have 1 since they are part of the gang, they just happened to join later

I changed some people's design a little bit but it's minor changes that don't mean much just me fixing up stuff

Molly and Grimshaw's eye-makeup-thingies are the same (cuz yknow. Dutch.) Molly's hair doesn't naturally do the Little Hair Thing, she has to do it every morning, hence why it's...oddly curly (this time not because she's not part of the gang, but because she feels the need to have it. maybe Dutch will love her if she does. if she's like the rest.)

I decided to make older Jack have a few things from other characters who are theorized to be his dad (lol. i don't believe those theories just for the record, i think Jack is John's kid, i just like stirring the pot HJKASJKHASGASG)

Jenny is like that cuz we never see her apart from a drawing, so i thought i should make her all sketchy and silly

Mac is. a fucking square. we never see that mf.

Karen has 3 freckles instead of 3 cuz she's quirky and not like the other girls (no but fr)

i tried to keep it right side people who would agree most with Dutch after Dutch...? if that makes sense? so yknow Micah is first, then Bill, etc. from the left side is the people who agreed the most with Arthur/John...so Hosea, Charles, lenny, etc.

Arthur facing John, Hosea facing Dutch, Charles facing Micah is on purpose teehee (Kieran is also kinda facing Mary-Beth but you can call bullshit and i'll accept it)

Jack is the only boyo between the women cuz he stands with his momma

i thought Arthur and John's hat bonking was p funny

idk what else to say, i've probably forgoren a lot but idc so...

these designs are 100% not perfect but i am p satisfied with most overall, lemme know what you think!

also....

i don't have any fucking clue why person's eyes are the only ones like that please someone fix him whats wrong with him help get him eye contacts or something PLEASE--

[olinits]

My friend's had an idea that Mac and Bill could have been really close friends since Bill respects him, and he doesn’t respect anybody, so

[dalekofchaos]

Context.

Scenario 1. We take Landon Rickets in Blackwater more serious and Landon saw what Dutch did and when he has the opening, Landon shoots Dutch dead. Hosea and Arthur gather everyone and lead them on a path to get lost in the west, gather their strength. Hosea makes the complete opposite of Dutch's decisions throughout the game and the gang is better off for it.

Scenario 2. Arthur arrives very late and sees Thomas Downes is having a coughing fit and collapses and figures that this debt isn't worth it. So Arthur never catches TB. He has his same character arc because he sees that Dutch is losing it and Micah is...Micah. Differences is. Arthur easily overpowers Milton and Arthur kills Micah.

Scenario 3. Arthur takes it upon himself to take responsibility and care for Eliza and Isaac. Turns out Eliza can contribute to the gang. She has a history of pickpocketing when tips as a waitress were low or nonexistent and under Hosea's tutelage, she's a damned good con artist. Isaac takes a liking to "Grandpa Hosea" and "Ol Dutch" the girls adore Isaac and the gang are protective of him. When Jack comes around, Isaac is like an older brother to Jack and Abigail adores him and when the Braithewaites try to steal Jack, Isaac fires a warning shot and everyone comes running to Jack's aid. Because of his family, Arthur chooses not to go after Downes and doesn't get TB. One day, Micah makes a pass at Eliza and makes an offhand comment about Isaac. And Arthur proceeds to beat the shit out of him "You come near my family again, and I'll kill you" Arthur puts his family first and chooses to get out when the writing is on the wall. When they go to free John from Piska, Abigail, Jack, Eliza and Isaac are all waiting and they leave and never look back,

Scenario 4. I know timeline wise this can't work, but it's a fun thought. Basically after Blackwater, Red is on the hunt. He is the "super bounty hunter" Trelawny warned the gang about. The Gang at first doesn't take the threat seriously, but suddenly members of the gang go missing and are delivered to the Pinkertons. Near the end, he sees the humanity in Arthur, John and his family, Charles and Sadie and helps them. Red shoots Micah dead and takes Dutch in. Arthur and John split the money and live in peace

Scenario 5.

Sadie (after chapter 3), Kieran (with his head intact), Charles Smith and Lenny. Josiah Trelawny as the heist leader.

Send the team to Blackwater, their mission is to retrieve the money.

Reasoning:

Sadie, new member of the team, no one know her as VDL gang, no big bounty yet, able to do Gun Fight.

Kieran, Horse gateaway duty. No one know him, he can be the spy to make sure that Colm team doesn't interrupt at all.

Charles, Bodyguard, gunsmith, considered safe bet, he was not in the big heist. Charles is also natural for stealth approach

Lenny, Sniper. Watching the team from the distance (from the camping spot where Arthur and co preparing to save Sean). He is also the one who can run quick back to main camp if anything happen

Josiah. The magician, the mastermind. He can safely travel anywhere, to make it a great decoy in Blackwater.

Arthur + Dutch + The rest of the gang can camping safely outside the border waiting for Lenny to come back

Scenario 6. Just a thought I had. What if Mac returned instead of Milton. But completely changed. After Blackwater and Davey's death, Mac goes through a similar journey as Arthur had and sacrifices himself so Arthur and John can escape

Scenario 7. Just had to include the absolute worst scenario possible. Micah orders Cleet and Joe to go back for Tilly and Jack. When Arthur and John are on the run, Micah yells out that he has Abigail and Jack and if the two of them don't show up to Beaver's Hollow in the next 10 minutes, then he'll kill them both. At first they don't believe him until he hears Abigail yell out for John. John rushes towards his family and is shot dead. And Arthur fights him to the death. The TB kills him and John's family is left at Micah's mercy. The trauma Jack witnesses causes amnesia. And Micah sees the opportunity to do what his father did to him. Take him under his wing and make Jack the deadliest outlaw in the world and as a final insult to Arthur and John. Jack Marston, is now Micah Bell IV

Scenario 8. After seeing how far Dutch has fallen with Micah poisoning his mind. Arthur contacts Mary and leaves with her. He asks Sadie and Charles to help John and his family and to help the girls, Pearson and Uncle leave. Mary takes Arthur away to the right climate and makes a full recovery. Eventually John, Abigail and Jack contact him. Charles and Sadie would join them shortly after helping the Wapiti tribe escape. Arthur advises them all. "Leave Micah. Revenge is a fool's game. All he did was reveal who Dutch truly is, eventually they'll both be caught or killed. Leave it all behind and don't look back." Arthur and Mary build a farm for themselves and a family and get the life Arthur always wanted with Mary. They help John and his family on Beecher's hope and all is well with the Morgans and the Marstons.

Scenario 9.

During the year that John left the gang. What if John somehow found his way to New Austin. He finds himself drifting and just thinking Abigail and the kid would be better off without him. One day he finds himself on the MacFarlane ranch. Bonnie asks for his help stopping some rustlers stealing their horses. John decides to stay and help the MacFarlanes out and somehow he finds the peace he's never had with Abigail. One thing leads to another and John falls in love with Bonnie and marries her. Meanwhile, Arthur helps Abigail take care of Jack and John's absence brings them together and they leave the gang after Molly is killed.

Scenario 10.

Hosea, Lenny, Kieran and Sean survive. Arthur convinces Molly to leave during the Saint Denis chapter and that Dutch doesn't love her and it's best if she left. Sadie and Charles return in time. Everyone stands with Arthur and they end Dutch, Micah. With half the gang against Dutch, Bill and Javier see sense and side with Arthur and John. Everyone splits the money and separates.

Scenario 11.

Arthur lives and helps John set everything up. He leaves with Sadie and kills Micah. Arthur chooses to hunt down Bill, Javier and Dutch in exchange for the Marstons freedom.

Arthur kills Bill at Fort Mercer. Arthur stealthily infiltrates Fort Mercer just like Fort Wallace. Kills Bill's gang one by one, until all that's left is Bill. "Hello Bill" "Arthur??" "I'll give you a choice come quietly or we can end this the good old fashioned way" Bill grabs his gun and Arthur shoots him dead “You were always a weak minded fool.”

Arthur hunts down Javier in Mexico. However, Arthur does not play both sides. He sees how desperate the people of Nuevo Paraíso have become. He even meets an old friend, Sister Calderon, now Mother Superior. He asks what side is right and she tells him to help Luisa and Mr Ricketts, they will help him in return.

One conversation with Reyes and Arthur sees right through him. He's nothing but a self-absorbed coward who uses the people of Mexico for his own ambitions. Instead of helping Reyes, Arthur is helping Luisa see sense and one day, Arthur and Luisa catches Reyes having an affair and Luisa kills him. The official story is Javier snuck into Reye's quarters and killed him and his mistress. Reyes Rebellion, now becomes Luisa's Rebellion.

Luisa fulfills her promise and helps Arthur find Javier.

"Well, well, well. Hello old friend." "Hello brother." "Oh, I'm your brother now, am I? "Arthur, I always loved you. I was always on your side." "Loyalty never meant that much when you stood by Dutch's side." "So what, you're taking the governments orders now?" "Look who's talking. From a revolutionary to Allende's lapdog." “Colonel Allende promised me a full pardon, all that mattered was returning home.” Arthur gets the best of Javier, lasso's him and delivers him to Ross and Fordham. Javier condemns Arthur and John. Arthur parts Javier telling him he was nothing more than a blind fool clinging to one master to another.

Arthur kills Dutch. He looks at him with disgust. “Hello Arthur, my son.” “Oh, I’m your son, am I? That didn’t mean a damned thing to you all those years ago when you chose the rat over me.” “I….I did no such thing, you and John BETRAYED ME and now you’re working for them.” “It’s either work with them to kill you or I die” and look at you, using another tribe of Indians like you used Eagle Flies. You’re pathetic.“ "If it’s all the same to you,I’d rather kill you Dutch.” During the shootout on the mountains, Arthur is mocking him for allowing the once great man to be reduced to his shell of his former self. Dutch telling Arthur he should have left him on the streets to die. Arthur mocking his lack of plan and just telling Dutch to “have some goddamn faith” When he has him on the cliff of Coachinay, Arthur just mocks him. “The great Dutch van der Linde, the man with a plan!” For the first time in his life, Dutch shows an ounce of humility and takes responsibility. “Arthur, I let him damn us all. If I had just listened to you, Hosea and John, we would’ve made it.” “If I had just let him hang, we would be in Tahiti” and Dutch falls to his death. At the end of the mountain, Arthur and Ross are by Dutch’s corpse. Arthur demanding to know if he’s finally free. Ross tells him one more mission. Kill John Marston and before Ross can say anything more, Arthur grabs Dutch’s gun and kills Ross. Fordham sees what transpires and mocks Ross “Oh trust me, it’ll look better in the report” Fordham telling Arthur what makes him think they won’t kill him. “You know why? I know too much. See, I know why you used me. Your governor Nate Johns election is coming up and he needed you and you needed me to clean up the state. Lets just say I told some folk and if word gets out I’m dead, then mr Johns won’t get reelected. You leave me and John Marston and his family alone and no one talks." And just like that, Arthur and John live.

[verdemoun]

Sean, who still sometimes calls Kieran “O’Driscoll boy”, accidentally slips up and reveals to Mac and Davey that kieran used to be an O’Driscoll before joining the Van Der Linde gang.

also i want to specify mac would rank in one of kieran's top 5 favorite people because mac's intimidation factor means whenever they are out in public people give them a wide berth and mac is always down to talk about horses even if it's just cool horse facts

sean definitely slips up but when mac asks he frantically covers his ass like aha yeah we call him o'driscoll boy cause he was killed by the o'driscolls and all ahahahaaha. mac thinks that's fucked up even for sean but rolls with it

makes a comment he doubts kieran likes being called o'driscoll boy which kieran can easily agree with. he still hates it and sean is trying to break the habit. it never completely goes away esp when they're bickering because there's still something deeply funny about how whiny kieran sounds when he says i ain't an o'driscoll

mac doesn't find out until a solid 2-3 years after mac and kieran become friends and mac is living at the ranch with bill for completely non homoerotic reasons. mac suggests they invite kieran out because he gets to ride a horse and also mac in certain he would enjoy the open space

not only does kieran love it but being on a horse is such a comfort for him he's thriving. anxiety gone, no overwhelming modern sensory issues being out on the land, and he's having the time of his life and casually bragging he already knows how to herd because he was quite the accomplished livestock rustler in his canon era days

bill, being relaxed and and having a tentative friendship with kieran, laughs and makes a comment 'not bad for an o'driscoll'

kieran pales and baulks meanwhile bill is yet to realize he fucked up. when mac immediately asks about the 'an' o'driscoll part bill starts laughing about how they found him in colter and how nervy he was. did not realize it was a secret until seeing the look on kieran's face. starts backpedalling: talking about how kieran saved arthur's life at six point cabin and he really wasn't much of an o'driscoll or at least not a very good one

just before kieran decides yeah this random horse probably trusts me enough to jump the fence and i could go live in the woods mac snickers and just says he's glad he didn't run into him in the old days because damn straight he would've killed him before asking his name. admittedly makes a lot more sense than sean trying to make a joke out of the gang that killed him, and agrees kieran doesn't look much like an o'driscoll at all

before long mac and bill are laughing so hard they're spooking the sheep at the idea of kieran in full o'driscoll garb trying to rob them and mimicking his voice trying to say 't-t-this is a robbery' meanwhile kieran is trying to argue he can be intimidating when he wants to be which just makes them laugh harder.

it's so unbelivable the idea of kieran duffy horsegirl o'driscoll, mac becomes one of the few who will correct anyone who slips up and is very effective at it with just how ruthless and terrifying he was and still is

when davey finds out it's the first time davey tries to have an actual conversation with kieran, asking him what it was like. kieran replies hell and davey's laugh is a lot less comforting. says he reckons he could've ridden with the o'driscolls if they weren't a bunch of teagues but appreciated colm's leadership tactics

kieran made the decision to never be in a room with davey again unless the gang kids were there because while the slur made his skin crawl, anyone who would even joke about riding with the o'driscolls is not someone who should be around children ever. he will very intentionally pull the kids close to stop them going anywhere near davey. the gang don't know why kieran has decided davey is a threat but find it very endearing how protective he is over the kiddos, including adult aged jack and isaac

[red-dead-cryptids]

As is my headcanon, Bill Williamson and Mac Callander had a relationship of sorts before the Blackwater Massacre. That is now canon in this AU

[paradox-valleyy]

Lost and found

Pre-Canon rdr 2 x Teen!fem!oc

Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Taglist: @photo1030 @radio96

Word count: 3,5k

Notes: I know this took forever, I just couldn’t get it to sound right. I kept fighting with myself on how to write it properly and make it work the way I wanted.

The camp was nestled in a hollow by the familiar trickling creek, its waters weaving a gentle melody that mingled with the fading light of the evening. Shadows stretched long and soft against wagons and makeshift tents, as though the day itself were reluctant to surrender its hold. The low murmur of voices carried through the air, interspersed with bursts of laughter and the rhythmic scrape of metal against wood.

Jolene walked a step behind Arthur, her small frame taut with unease. Her eyes darted nervously from one figure to the next, catching glimpses of rough-hewn faces and the glint of weapons at every hip. The air was rich with the aroma of stew bubbling over a fire, blended with the sharper tang of horses, leather, and faint traces of tobacco smoke. Her stomach growled softly, a reminder of her hunger, but she ignored it. The sheer strangeness of the camp—the energy of the place, so raw and alive—was enough to drown out her body’s needs. These people were unlike the townsfolk she was accustomed to: bold, loud, and utterly unrepentant in their manner.

Arthur said nothing as he led her deeper into the camp, nodding occasionally to familiar faces. Jolene startled as a voice—rich and unmistakable familiar—called out to them.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” said a man standing by the largest tent. His words were accompanied by a slow, bemused smile that deepened the lines around his mouth.

Dutch.

“Well, if it ain’t Joel. Thought we’d seen the last of you.”

Arthur, puzzled, glanced at Dutch. “You know the boy?” he asked, his tone edged with curiosity.

“Yes, we met before.”

As Dutch launched into the tale of how they first met, his booming voice laced with theatrical flair, Jolene's attention wavered. Her gaze drifted past him to the grand tent rising prominently behind the man. It was larger than any of the others, adorned with subtle flourishes that hinted at its occupant's importance. For a moment, her eyes caught on a peculiar contraption inside-its brass horn gleaming faintly in the flickering firelight.

She'd seen one like it once, sitting in the window of a shop back in a town she could no longer recall. It made music somehow, though the mechanics of it were beyond her understanding.

Her curiosity lingered, but the weight of a heavy hand on her shoulder pulled her thoughts back sharply to the present.

Jolene turned her head slightly, startled to see Dutch grinning down at her, his hand firm and commanding.

"Ain't that right, Joel?" he said, his smile widening like a predator's, his charm as much a weapon as the revolver on his hip.

Jolene hesitated, her gaze darting between Dutch and Arthur, who stood a few paces away. Arthur's expression was inscrutable, though his eyes betrayed a quiet scrutiny as they rested on her. She couldn't tell if he was amused, suspicious, or something else entirely.

Unsure of what else to do, Jolene nodded faintly, her face a careful mask.

Dutch erupted into laughter, joined by Arthur’s deep chuckle. Their laughter felt like a verdict, though she couldn’t tell what crime she’d been accused of. Jolene forced a smile, but a prickling unease crept up her spine. She’d known from the moment she stumbled into this camp that these were no ordinary folk. Criminals—every one of them. Guns hung from hips as casually as belts, shotguns leaned against barrels, and the air carried a tension that spoke of lives lived on the edge.

“Alright then,” Dutch said, waving them off with a smirk. “Go on, get to your business.”

Arthur started walking again, and Jolene hurried to follow. As they wove through the camp, she asked, her voice low, “Where’s Hosea?”

Arthur muttered without turning back, “Probably out huntin’ or something.”

Jolene nodded, though he couldn’t see the gesture. The camp’s atmosphere pressed down on her, and she startled again at the sound of another voice.

“Well, well. What have we here?”

A woman approached, her bearing stern and her plain dress immaculate. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun that seemed to amplify the sharpness of her gaze. Jolene instinctively straightened, feeling suddenly small beneath the woman’s scrutiny.

“You brought a boy, Arthur?” she asked, her tone carrying a note of exasperation. “We ain’t runnin’ an orphanage.”

Arthur grunted, clearly uninterested in engaging, and wandered off without so much as a backward glance. Jolene was left standing alone, dwarfed by the woman’s commanding presence.

“You reek,” the woman declared, wrinkling her nose. “When’s the last time you saw a bar of soap, boy?”

Panic shot through Jolene like lightning. Bathing was a dangerous proposition, one that risked revealing the secret she’d fought so hard to keep. Dropping her gaze, she mumbled, “Been a while, ma’am.”

The woman pursed her lips but said no more on the matter. “Long as you keep your stink away from me,” she said curtly. Then, narrowing her eyes, she asked, “What’s your name, boy?”

“Joel,” Jolene muttered.

“Joel what? Or d’you not have a last name?”

Jolene’s throat tightened. Every instinct screamed at her to lie, but her mind blanked under the woman’s unrelenting stare.

“Joel Winslow”

“Winslow,” Grimshaw repeated, her sharp tone laced with skepticism. After a moment, she straightened, seeming satisfied enough. “Susan Grimshaw,” she said. “Miss Grimshaw to you.”

Jolene nodded, a weak gesture of acknowledgment. The woman’s scrutiny lingered a beat longer before she finally turned and strode off with purposeful steps, her back as rigid as steel.

Left alone once again, Jolene exhaled shakily. Her gaze flickered to the campfire, its glow comforting yet insufficient to dispel the growing sense of isolation. Arthur had vanished, leaving her adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces and dangerous intentions.

As she resolved to search for him, determined not to stand idle and draw further attention, another voice called out behind her.

“Hey, kid. Over here.”

She turned to see a tall man with sandy hair sitting on a crate, his grin and relaxed posture offering an unexpected reprieve from the tension. A small toolkit was spread out on another crate beside him.

“Name’s Mac,” he said, waving her over. “Arthur says your chain needs mendin’.”

Jolene watched as he inspected the broken chain. The firelight caught its broken link, the gold glinting faintly like a wounded treasure.

Mac whistled softly as he examined it. “Not too bad. Where’d this come from?”

“It was my mother’s,” Jolene said quietly, her voice trembling despite her best efforts.

Mac’s expression softened. “A fine piece. The ring goes onto it?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “It was hers too.”

Mac nodded, his hands steady as he picked up a pair of pliers and a small hammer. He began threading the broken ends of the chain together with care.

“Y’know,” he said after a moment, “a chain’s only as strong as its weakest link. But lucky for you, this one’s got plenty of life left in it.”

Jolene managed a faint smile, though she wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. Still, his words brought a flicker of warmth to her chest, momentarily pushing aside the sting of recent memories.

“Don’t look so glum,” Mac said, glancing up. “Things’ll work out for you, you’ll see.”

Jolene frowned slightly, her thoughts drifting to the sheriff’s harsh slap. “You can’t know that.”

Mac shrugged with an easy grin. “Sure I can. You’re scrappy, ain’t too ugly. And you’re lucky—Dutch and Hosea don’t just take to anyone. You must’ve done somethin’ right.”

She didn’t reply, but his words stirred an unfamiliar warmth in her chest. Mac studied her for a moment, his tone light when he spoke again.

“You’re all alone right?”

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Thought so. You’ve got a look about you—like trouble’s been a close companion. But trouble’s the best teacher there is, so maybe that’s not all bad.”

Jolene cast him a wary glance, unsure if he was teasing or sincere.

“Almost done,” Mac said, holding the chain up to inspect his handiwork. “A little polish, and it’ll be good as new.”

When he finally handed the repaired chain back to her, Jolene felt a surge of relief and gratitude. The links gleamed in the firelight, and the ring swayed gently from the end.

“Good as new,” Mac said with a grin. “Go on, take a look.”

Jolene turned the chain over in her hands, her fingers trembling with excitement. She wanted to leap with joy, to hug Mac and thank him profusely, but instead, she simply said, “Thank you.”

Mac’s grin widened. “Don’t mention it, kid. Take care of it. I reckon it’s got plenty more stories to tell.”

Jolene nodded, clutching the chain tightly. For a moment, Mac’s gaze lingered, but he said nothing more.

“Go on now,” he said, waving her off. Jolene slipped away, the chain held close to her chest like a fragile piece of hope.

After a few more moments of careful inspection, Jolene slipped the repaired chain around her neck, feeling its familiar weight settle against her chest. She tucked it securely into her shirt and exhaled, her fingers lingering briefly over the fabric before she dropped her hand.

Standing near the horses, she took a moment to survey the camp. The animals were unsaddled, most of them nipping lazily at the ground, their tails swishing in the dim light. Her gaze lingered on them, drawn to their quiet, grounded presence. Among them, she spotted Boadicea, Arthur’s steadfast mare—the first horse Jolene had ever ridden. A faint smile ghosted across her lips at the memory, the sensation of the animal’s strength beneath her still vivid in her mind.

Her attention shifted to the camp itself. She stood cloaked in the shadows, unnoticed by most as she observed the scene before her. Arthur sat at a table, a bowl of stew in hand, speaking in low tones to a pair of unfamiliar men. His manner was calm, his movements steady. Further off, she spotted Mac, the kind man who had mended her chain. He was perched on a log, a plate of food balanced on his knee, his hearty laugh carrying faintly through the evening air. The firelight caught the sauce that clung to his thick beard, and Jolene’s lips twitched in an involuntary smile. Around him, a small group of people sat, their faces warm with the camaraderie of shared stories and laughter.

The crunch of footsteps startled her, and she turned quickly to see a woman standing beside her. She was young and strikingly pretty, with black hair swept into a loose braid and a soft glow about her—likely the result of her pregnancy, which was unmistakable in the way her belly curved beneath her dress. Despite her condition, she carried herself with a quiet strength, leaning down slightly to meet Jolene’s gaze.

“I saw you earlier,” the woman said, her voice kind and curious. “Are you stayin’ with us?”

Jolene hesitated. The truth was, she didn’t know. After Mac had fixed her chain and sent her on her way, no one had told her what was next. Should she leave? The thought of returning to the town—the sheriff’s cruelty and the pain of earlier events—made her stomach twist. But staying felt uncertain, too, like stepping into a world she didn’t fully understan. “I don’t know,” she admitted, shrugging her small shoulders.

The woman sighed, a sound more empathetic than exasperated. “Well,” she said after a moment, “I’m Abigail. And you?” Her tone remained gentle, encouraging.

“Joel,” Jolene replied quickly, sticking to the name she’d given before.

Abigail nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Well, Joel, you look thin as a rail. Come eat with us.” She straightened with some effort, extending a hand to Jolene.

Jolene hesitated for only a moment before accepting. Despite everything, she was grateful for being small for her age—her slight frame seemed to invite less scrutiny. Abigail’s hand was warm and firm, and together they made their way into the heart of the camp.

Abigail led her to a quieter corner, where a nearly empty table stood. A young girl, her skin a deep, rich brown, sat there already, eating her stew with measured bites. Abigail gestured for Jolene to sit. “I’ll bring us two portions,” she said, her tone decisive.

“Are you sure? I can carry them,” Jolene offered, her voice tinged with worry as she glanced at Abigail’s pregnant form.

Abigail smiled, brushing off the concern with a shake of her head. “I’ve got it. You sit.”

With that, she left, leaving Jolene alone with the other girl, who paused mid-bite to look up and smile warmly. “What’s your name?” the girl asked, her voice light and friendly.

“Joel,” Jolene replied, keeping her answer brief.

“Tilly,” the girl introduced herself. “Tilly Jackson.” She smiled again before returning to her stew, her demeanor calm and unassuming.

Jolene sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. Abigail returned soon after, balancing two bowls of steaming stew with practiced ease. She set one in front of Jolene and the other for herself before settling into the seat beside her. The aroma of the hearty meal was comforting, and Jolene felt a flicker of gratitude as she picked up the spoon. For now, she was safe, and that was enough.

Jolene ate her stew with unrestrained joy, her spoon diving eagerly into the bowl with each bite. If she’d been alone, she might’ve wriggled like a happy worm, her body unable to contain the sheer delight of warm food. It had been so long—years, even—since a hot meal had been anything but a rare treat. In recent times, she’d been lucky to taste such comfort once a month. Now, with the savory broth warming her insides, she allowed herself a moment of peace, the harsh edges of her world temporarily dulled.

The table was quiet as the three of them ate. Tilly offered the occasional friendly glance, but no words were exchanged. Abigail seemed preoccupied, her thoughts elsewhere as she methodically spooned stew into her mouth. Jolene appreciated the silence—it gave her time to savor her food without distraction.

That peace was interrupted when Dutch approached, a bowl of stew in hand. He greeted them warmly, his voice carrying the easy charm that seemed to envelop everything he did. Without asking, he took a seat at their table, nodding to Abigail and Tilly before focusing his attention on Jolene.

“So,” he began after taking a few bites of his meal, “how’re you likin’ it here, Joel?”

Jolene froze for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Her instincts warned her to tread carefully, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “It’s nice,” she replied simply, keeping her tone neutral.

Dutch chuckled, his grin widening. “Nice, eh? Well, I suppose that’s one way to put it.” He leaned back slightly, the firelight dancing in his sharp eyes. “But you’ve seen enough of the world to know nice ain’t always easy to come by. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Jolene nodded hesitantly, unsure where this was going. She studied Dutch closely, her mind racing. She wasn’t dumb—uneducated, yes, but not stupid. She couldn’t read or write, didn’t know what came after 109 in a count, but she could piece things together quickly enough. It didn’t take long to understand that Dutch was the leader here. The way people deferred to him, the way he carried himself—it was clear.

At first, Dutch had struck her as charming, even kind. But now, sitting at this table with him, her wariness grew. He was the leader of a gang of criminals, after all. Her world had taught her that someone like him wasn’t to be trusted. The sisters at the church had drilled it into her head—outlaws were cruel, violent, and wicked. Yet here was Dutch, smiling and polite, offering her food and a place to sit. How many people had he killed with those same hands that held her shoulders so warmly?

Arthur, too, didn’t fit the mold of the villains she’d imagined. He’d gone out of his way to help her, had been patient and kind, even when she’d had little to offer in return. And Mac—he’d mended her chain with a fatherly sort of care, as if her small troubles mattered to him. These people baffled her. Their camaraderie, their apparent contentment—it all clashed with the stories she’d been told. Were these the same “nasty, mean” outlaws the sisters had warned her about?

Dutch’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. He leaned forward, his expression warm yet commanding, as though he could see the questions swirling in her mind.

“Joel,” he began, his tone softer now, “I imagine you’ve been through your share of hard times. Most folks like us have. You don’t end up out here without a little trouble behind you. But that don’t mean trouble has to follow you forever.” He gestured toward the camp with a sweep of his hand. “Look around. What do you see? You see folks who’ve been given up on by the rest of the world. People like Arthur, like Tilly, like me—forgotten, left to fend for themselves. And yet, here we are. Together. Strong. Safe.”

Jolene listened, her stew forgotten as his words washed over her. There was something almost hypnotic about the way he spoke, his voice weaving a picture of safety and belonging that was hard to resist.

“This here,” Dutch continued, “isn’t just a camp. It’s a family. A real family. One that looks out for each other, that fights for each other. You’re young, but you’re sharp. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got potential, Joel. And out there?” He nodded toward the darkened world beyond the firelight. “Out there, the world’ll eat you alive. But here? With us? You’ll have a chance. A chance to make somethin’ of yourself.”

Jolene felt her heart beat faster. His words were persuasive, tugging at something deep inside her—a longing for security, for belonging, for a life that wasn’t just survival. And yet, a small, skeptical voice in the back of her mind whispered warnings.

Dutch leaned in closer, his gaze steady and intent. “It’s your choice, of course. I’d never force you to stay. But think about it, Joel. Think about what you want. Safety. Family. Opportunity.” He smiled, a gleam in his eye. “Those are things worth fightin’ for, don’t you think?”

Jolene nodded slowly, unsure of what else to do. Dutch sat back, satisfied, and returned to his stew. But his words lingered, weaving their way into her thoughts as the night wore on.

Jolene’s thoughts spun like a whirlwind as she continued eating the stew, her spoon moving mechanically as the weight of Dutch’s words settled over her. She wasn’t Joel, wasn’t eleven, wasn’t a boy—her mind felt like a maze, full of walls she couldn’t climb, paths she couldn’t see. She kept eating, her hands trembling a little, but she couldn’t stop the questions that churned in her chest. Would it be different if they knew?

Would they trust her?

Her mind flickered with terrifying possibilities. What if they found out? What if they kicked her out, just like the town had? Or worse, what if they decided she wasn’t worth keeping around—what if they killed those they couldn’t trust? A cold sweat prickled at the back of her neck, her stomach tightening with fear. She felt the panic start to rise, a knot in her throat as her heart raced faster than she could think.

But as the panic swelled, it started to subside, her breath evening out. They wouldn’t kill a young girl, right? she told herself. She was just a child, barely fifteen. Surely, that was enough to save her, to make her inconspicuous enough that they’d never think to harm her. The lie she’d told, that she was Joel, would be harmless, right? After all, Dutch had said it himself—he knew what it was like to come from hard times. He’d understand, wouldn’t he? He might even appreciate it, the way she was just doing what she had to, surviving the best she could.

A small, quiet voice in the back of her head told her she was fooling herself, but she pushed it down, focusing instead on the plan beginning to form in her mind. Hide it at first, she thought. Let them think she’s Joel. They’d never question it. And when the time was right… she’d tell them the truth. When she was bigger. When it wouldn’t matter so much. Maybe they’d accept her then.

She could leave once she was older, stronger, but still not manly. She’d make a life of her own, maybe find a place in this strange, chaotic world. And maybe—just maybe—there’d be a place for her here, among these outlaws.

As her thoughts continued to churn, her nerves slowly calmed. The swirling confusion settled into a plan—fragile, uncertain, but a plan nonetheless. She finished the last spoonful of stew, forcing herself to keep calm. She could do this. She just needed to keep up the charade for now. Keep it hidden. They didn’t have to know the truth. Not yet.

Tilly stood and carried her empty bowl away, breaking Jolene’s reverie. She watched the girl go, her movements easy and familiar, and then turned her attention back to the camp around her. Her mind was still racing, but her thoughts were sharper now, more focused on the idea of not just surviving but living. If she stayed, she felt like she actually had a chance.

Jolene set her bowl down, the warmth of the stew still lingering in her stomach as she looked up at Dutch. Her hands were steady now, her heart still pounding but with a newfound resolve. She swallowed her fear and, in a quiet but firm voice, said, “I want to stay. With you… with the gang.”

The words felt strange, almost foreign on her tongue, but they were true. The offer, this chance, was something she couldn’t let slip through her fingers. This was her chance to survive, to find something better than the streets, the town, the constant fear.

She might not understand everything, but she knew one thing for sure—she wouldn’t let this chance pass her by. She couldn’t.

[roseofithaca]

Dutch: Did you boys manage to get Mac's body?

Arthur: Those sons of bitches cremated him. Here's all we could get.

Arthur: *pours pile of ash on table*

Dutch: Poor Mac. Okay, everyone, two things! Part one; we respectfully scatter our fallen brother's ashes. Part two; we find those bounty hunters.

John: *sneezes over table*

Everyone:

Dutch:

John:

Arthur: So onto part two then?

[cinnamonsprinkle-stuff]

wanted to doodle my fav guys who we barely see!

(one doesn't even have a face claim, the other is only seen when he's bleeding out and sickly.)

anyways. the brothers ever

[marsismadeofgold]

Chapters: 1/5 Fandom: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)

Women. Wives. Hostages. A funny little ecosystem Anthony’s established, kept in line of course by the ruling class of brutes he’s recruited, the ones that smoke and spit and swear and shoot whoever the fuck a Foreman tells them to. A band of brothers, Anthony calls them. Tilly just thinks they’re fools, but of course no one’s ever asking her anyway.

“You’re so young.” He says. He sounds so forlorn. Sounds like he’s in mourning. “Oh, I didn’t know they captured girls so young.” “I was younger when they got me.” She answers absently. She doesn’t think too hard about the use of the word captured, because it makes it seem like maybe tonight was inevitable. Maybe it didn’t matter that she’s fifteen and not close to sixteen neither, or that she’s still skinny like a little boy and no man in their right minds would want her. Because maybe it’s not about want to these fellers. Maybe it’s just sort of about power. And maybe, just maybe, this was always bound to happen sooner or later. She doesn’t say any of that to the hostage. She doesn’t have the time.

------

New Tilly Jackson fic is up! Following her leaving the Foreman Brothers and her introduction to the Van Der Linde gang

[eiffeltornet]

someone should slide in my dms and talk about the callander boys with me pls

[zarkishere]

On the fifth day of Christmas, Zark gave to me...

art + chapter :3

chapter also below

_____ Some jobs go well, others not so much. TW// SLURS. _____ The next morning everyone woke up really early—the sun barely peaked down upon them from behind the mountains and clouds, the birds just starting to sing, the sky still very much a dark blue...yet Ruben was wide awake and heating up some cans by the time everyone had gotten up. He had trouble sleeping—always had, but with strangers that odd fear within him only got stronger. Technically, these people weren’t strangers, but they weren’t close enough for his fears to settle down either. He got up so early he felt like he hadn’t slept at all...but he needed something to do, so while the others slept he had gone out to get more sticks and dead leafs to start up the fire again. That wasn’t easy, given it had rained...most everything was dripping wet, which was unfortunate, but with patience and determination it ended up working. Arthur was the only one to give his thank yous—well, Javier tried, but was promptly ignored. They ate, cleaned their faces with a rag Javier had brought and gotten wet, and hit the road yet again. Thankfully, they had slept only a bit away from town, so by the time they got there the town was buzzing with people. Left and right, people worked and singed, calling others to come over and check out their goods, others argued and...it was just so nice, Ruben looked around with excitement and had to be stopped by the others from running to check stuff out more than once. Of course, daytime isn’t exactly a good time to rob, so Arthur ended up deciding that they should just make time by looking around. Maybe they’d find some other house to rob. Or just something exciting to look at… Mac and Davey left together, to no ones surprise, and Arthur left on his own...leaving Ruben and Javier (once again) set up to be alone in front of some shop where the others had split up.

To Ruben, it felt like some sort of bad joke by life itself, being stuck with this guy.

Javier cleared his throat. “ Entonces...quieres ir a ver algo? “ (So...you wanna check something out?) he asked, looking at Ruben expectantly. Ruben whined and groaned, having a bit of a temper tantrum…to which Javier chuckled at. “ It’s not funny “ Ruben huffed. “ It kind of is, though. “ Javier responded, a slight smile on his lips. “ How? I don’t want to be around you. “ Ruben responded, crossing his arms. Javier stopped smiling, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “ Pero porqué? En serio no entiendo qué te he hecho. “ (But why? I really don’t understand what I’ve done to you.)

“ Déjalo, si? Solo déjalo. “ (Leave it alone, alright? Just leave it.) Ruben grumbled, kicking the dirt. “ Pero—ay, dios...actuas como un niño mimado, sabes? “ (But—oh lord...you act like a spoiled brat, you know?) “ Tú eres el problema aquí, yo no! “ (You’re the problem here, not me!) Ruben said, pointing at Javier.

He slapped his hand away, growing more and more frustrated. “ No te he hecho nada, Rubén! Me miras como si te hubiera escupido la cara! “ (I haven’t dont anything to you, Ruben! You look at me as if i had spat on your face!) “ Fue culpa de TÚ gente que—” (It was YOUR peoples fault that--) his voice got cut off as another man approached. “ Can you two greasers cut it out!? Get the hell away from my shop! “ He yelled, practically squaring up to fight them. Javier tightened his fist and quickly looked at him, his face spitting venom, making the man cower without even a few words spoken. “ Listen—your arguing is—uhm...scaring my costumers, alright? Just...go argue somewhere else! “ He said, stuttering and stumbling over his words. Ruben never understood why people got so scared...that face didn’t have that effect on him. Strange. Ruben felt guilty for starting that argument... The two did end up leaving, walking around town with no more words spoken between them. Houses so big and tall, shops, horses, everything seemed so fancy. So clean and pristine. He felt like they didn’t fit in—well, Javier was better dressed than him, so he could get a pass...somewhat….people were still so very rude to them. They went through multiple places; plenty shops, a bar and even a park that was at the center of town. It was gorgeous; plenty trees, places to sit at, a huge water-fountain… “ You wanna toss a coin? “ Javier asked, taking a coin out of his pocket and placing it on the palm of his hand. “ Hm..? oh, sure. Gracias. “ (thanks) He took the coin, their hands briefly touching. Ruben placed it between his hands, closed his eyes and blew air into it before tossing the coin into the water. Javier watched him the whole time, eyes gentle in that special way that made Ruben want to smack it off. “ What did you ask for? “ Javier asked, leaning in ever so slightly, like a secret between them. “ I can’t tell you! If I do, it won’t come true. “ Ruben huffed, leaning away and crossing his arms with a slight pout. Javier chuckled and shook his head, shrugging as he started to walk off again. Ruben watched him for a couple of seconds before going after him. After a while of looking around Javier bought a new necklace—it was very nice, Ruben couldn’t lie—a silver cross with some...rocks..? in it. Javier was the religious type, Ruben had come to learn. He’d watched the man pray before meals a few times, or heard him mumbling other words of devotion at the far corners of camp. It was cute—well, no, not cute. More so...entertaining? No, no, that sounds weird too. It’s...well, it didn’t….well—

Mac smacked him, taking him out of his little mind travel. “ Caralho mano! “ (god-damn, dude!) Ruben yelped, smacking the others hand away, which earned him another smack from Mac. A little harder this time. “ Don’t fockin raise yer hands at me, lad, i’ll snap yer neck like a twig. “ He said, voice low and threatening...did he mean it, though? No idea. Mac could never turn off his ‘scary’ factor. Davey and Arthur were there now, too. Must’ve spaced out...time felt like it flew by.

Ruben pouted, puffing out his cheeks. Mac snorted, rolling his eyes. “ Quit that, doll. “ He said, flicking Ruben’s nose. “ C’mon, let’s go. “ “ Is it time? “ Ruben asked, following behind Mac. He looked up at the sky as the group made their way to the outskirts of town; it was becoming dark, but the clouds had completely left by now. No more rain, it seems. Eventually they all made it out, small talk here and there, but no conversations of real matter...things only got more serious when they sneaked behind the house… It was a quite large home with a stone fence around it, seemingly divided into 2 to 3 levels, standing on a foundation of pink bricks and a blueish roof. There was balcony on the back, and from where Ruben stood he could see a bench or two. The walls of the home consisted of light pink wood with white corner boards. Many windows were strewn around the walls of the house and on top of the building rested a slim chimney, but as there was no smoke it could be guessed no one was inside at the moment… "Alright, here’s the plan," Arthur drawled, taking charge since he was Dutch’s son. "Me, Ruben, and Javier'll hop the wall—'cause we’re the quiet ones. Y’all two go on down and wait for us to unlock it. Once we do, just grab whatever you can. Got it?" “ Can’t Javier go with the other two? “ Ruben asked. “ Wha—what did I do?? “ Javier asked, looking at him confused. “ I thought we were getting along. “ “ Well, no, I still dislike you. “ The other answered with a shrug. “ Pero—” (But—) Javier’s voice was cut off by Arthur’s. “ Just shut up. This is how we’ll be doing things. “ They nodded, and the plan started. The three went up to the fence, scaling it and cautiously walking on it toward the balcony….but once there, they realized it was locked. Since Mac and Davey were waiting on their spot, they had no way to say what was up, so they just had to figure out another way in... “ Who locks balconies?? “ Asked Javier quietly. Arthur sighed, looking around. Eventually, his eyes landed on a window that happened to be open. He poked Ruben’s shoulder. “ Think you could get that? “ He asked. Ruben nodded and took a few steps back, before sprinting forward and jumping for it—BARELY catching the ledge. This job wasn’t going well so far, but Ruben trusted it could be fixed, so he pulled himself up and made his way into the abode; it was even fancier inside, big central stairs, a chandelier...which made him instinctively grimace. He made his way to the balconies door, unlocking it from the inside and flashing Arthur a smile as the other two walked in. “ I’ll go unlock the door for the other two, go gather stuff already. “ He said, and the two Mexicans nodded. The three parted ways as they did their thing. Ruben went to the bathroom first, finding a good bunch of jewels; pretty necklaces, pins and some rings. He placed a silver one around his index finger, admiring it for a few seconds...deciding he’d keep that one for himself. Then, he went to the bed-room, going through the drawers and closets, finding a few stacks of money...everything seemed to be going well—Until Arthur came sprinting into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Although, it was clear he made the effort to make little to no noise.

[kaliesuriens]

So Sick of the lack of content about the Callander boys that the voices of my head start to imagine them been like Miguel and Túlio from the Road to El Dorado.

[dalekofchaos]

For context about Javier. I have an idea. The first chapter would be about why Javier fled Mexico. Chapter 2-4 is about Javier's time working for Allende. Chapter 5-8 is about Javier's redemption. A bunch of Mexican revolutionaries who are tired of Reyes' corruption plan to free Javier. Javier sees this as his chance to atone for his betrayal of Arthur and John and to make things right for his people. Ideally it ends with Javier killing Reyes and helping bring true change to Mexico. Side note. We don't know if Javier was executed. John only implies it and I don't believe it's said in the newspaper at all.

For the beginning of the Van Der Linde gang. I picture it starting out with Dutch meeting Hosea in the prologue. Then meeting Arthur. I picture the meeting going like this. Arthur is on the run from the law and gets desperate and tries to run off with The Count. It bucks him off and then Dutch and Hosea take Arthur in. Then we see how Dutch saved John from a hanging. Slowly but surely we see the foundation of the gang and how the golden age of the Van Der Linde gang was like. and it ends with the Blackwater Massacre.

Context about the last choice. Sadie returns to America after a successful venture in South America. The pay is good and it looks like the days of the West are truly coming to an end. Sadie decides to take one last job and retire. She finds a wanted poster and looks at the name and is completely dumbfounded. "Jack Marston, wanted dead or alive for the murder of Agent Edgar Ross" Sadie puts two and two together and realizes what happened. She visits Beecher's Hope to see John, Abigail and Uncle's graves. She promises to help Jack or die trying. At some point she enlists Charles help and they find Jack down in Mexico. Jack surrenders when he knows it's Sadie and Charles. We would play as Jack, Charles and Sadie GTA V style. We would work together to find their redemption and clear Jack's name. It ends with Charles returning home to his family in Canada, Sadie either going back to South America or rebuilding her home and retiring in peace and with Jack writing the Red Dead book we saw in GTA V to tell the tales of his parents and Arthur Morgan and to tell the truth of what happened.

[verdemoun]

a mac and davey sidepoint i have been thinking about the callanders meeting kieran duffy

when mac and davey got out of prison they stayed with bessie and hosea which seemed fine until they walked in with their post-prison hand-me-down clothes and cold stares and mac immediately asked 'who is that'

at no point had they thought to mention kieran duffy and completely forgot he was not part of the gang when the callanders were alive

hosea immediately had flashbacks to one of the times they ran into the o'driscolls when the callanders were alive and mac running out of bullets and instead charging at fleeing o'driscolls with his hunting knife while head to toe sadie ala horsemen apocalypse covered in blood and started to sweat

not to mention the waves of panic coming off kieran was palpable and the fact he hadn't already sprinted to his room and shut the door was a prime example of the fight-flight-freeze response kicking in

hosea plastering on a conman smile and quickly explaining oh this is kieran duffy we picked him up in colter unfortunately he didn't get to ride with us too long before the o'driscolls picked him up plsdon'tlookintothat he's a gentle soul, doesn't say too much modern era is quite overwhelming for him

lightbulb moment quickly interrupts himself kieran took care of the horses!! kieran you'd remember the two tennessee walker studs we had around camp they were mac and davey's mounts

kieran snaps his head around faster than the korean ghost comic meanwhile mac actually laughs a little because he can't believe they kept mace and thistle who were as unruly to handle as their owners

kieran cannot help himself he is a mile-a-minute infodumping about what good horses they were and how he figured out just where they liked to be scratched to avoid getting bit and their favorite treats and absolutely losing his mind when he finally, finally finds out their names because the gang didn't know

the solid chestnut was mac's horse mace and he's genuinely happy to talk about his horse because he is a bit of a secret horse girl himself. it isn't long before he's sitting on the couch talking to this slightly strange man: asking questions about branwen when kieran talks about his own horse and how mace was doing and laughing about kieran retelling mace's antics about mace trying to walk himself into camp and pinning his ears back whenever someone tried to catch him

davey already sees kieran as a threat because mac isn't allowed to have friends that is His brother but kieran is blissfully unaware of the glare he's getting because he's talking about horses he's invincible

[zarkishere]

He also dies unaware of his brother's well-being We as players know Mac lived a little more and then (probably) got tortured and killed by the Pinkertons, seeking information out of the already dying man, but Davey didn't

The brothers didn't know of each other's status as they died

i imagine they both tried to hold on a little longer, just a bit longer, because maybe they'd survive and be able to look for one another

but they both died, far away from one another

people always talk abt how Arthur died not knowing if anyone else survived and stuff but what about Davey Callander??

yeah, we didn't know him or get to see him alive in the game, but you still have to think. Davey died in Colter not knowing if the Pinkertons would find the gang while they were in the mountains. he didn't know if they'd freeze to death or starve, either.

he died with absolutely no reassurances, just that he had barely survived the presumable days long travel to The Grizzlies, then to Colter, only to die without ever knowing if the gang would live on.

but not only did Davey die in Colter, it's obvious that he was dead before they even got him indoors. and god only even really knows how long he had really been dead because the temperatures would've diminished his body heat completely before they could pronounce his death.

Davey had held out for so long, only to die as soon as we, the player, are even introduced to him. we know he had a brother, Mac, we know that Micah thought highly of the Callander brothers, we know that Charles and Lenny didn't show much of a liking to Mac and Davey, we know that the brothers were rowdy, we know that Davey had been shot fatally, and we know that Davey played a lot of poker, that is it. we don't know anything else besides what Arthur can over hear or say in interactions about Davey. but we know that he died unaware of how the gang would crumble because of Dutch's actions, not because of them getting caught.

[nthspecialll]

What are your thoughts on the Callendar brothers?

Oh I am glad you ask! While what we get to know is sniplets here and there, we do actually know a lot about them!

There are a few common factors between them. Both are described to be quite violent men that didn't really seem to regret any of their actions or think too deeply about it. They are also quite loud people, simiarly to Sean, who draws a lot of attention to themselves as many says camp won't be the same.

Mac is said to be quite physically strong and capable in a fight as he once beat up fifteen sailors at once, that said he is implied to have a softer side as Bill says "he was a heartless son of a bitch, but he had a heart."

Davey was a big drunk who loved poker and said he "build character."

While they seem to be pretty destructive, they seem to be well liked in camp as the majority of the remaining members mourn them, only really Charles seems to not be sad that they are gone.