#pointing the gun at dutch or Micah in American venom and you can see Arthur looking over their shoulder

[mushroomtrailer]

rdr2 dlc mode where you spend the entire game (6 chapters + epilogue) haunted by the people you’ve lost

[legendarymasterwolf]

I finished RDR2 and I need to talk about it

My thoughts when I first played it last summer was that it had an interesting story with interesting characters, it was just far too long for me. Due to quarantine, I finally decided to attempt to finish the game (I was already aware of a few story beats that had yet to happen when I returned to playing, but I hadn't witnessed them yet). By the time I finished, this game had set itself as my second favorite game of all time (The Witcher 3 is still my favorite, though that's definitely going to change when cyberpunk 2077 releases).

SPOILERS FOR RDR2 FOLLOW!!! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

The first half of the game intrigued me. It took the time to show how the Van Der Linde Gang was a dysfunctional family unit, and I loved the little moments in camp where everyone would be sitting around a campfire singing or something like that. Though at this point, I was just intrigued. Not to say there weren't any great moments or shocking deaths up until halfway through the game. The mission where you burn the Gray family's tobacco fields reminded me of Far Cry 3′s Weed Burning sequence, among several other memorable moments from the story as well. Plus, Sean and Kieran’s deaths were shocking and brutal (my boys did not deserve to go out like that, Sean getting shot in the head mid-sentence and Kieran getting his eyes gouged out and decapitated, his headless corpse sent back into camp on a horse) and I still felt for those deaths.

But the midpoint of the game is where everything changes. The gang decides to rob the Lemoyne National Bank in Saint Denis. It goes off without a hitch until the Pinkertons suddenly show up out of nowhere, taking Hosea hostage. Matters are further complicated by Milton, who shoots Hosea when Dutch tries to talk his way out. The way the nicest member of the gang and adoptive father of the group was gunned down without ceremony is shocking enough, but to have Lenny join him minutes later and not even in a cutscene when he’s gunned down by Pinkerton Agents on the roof just hurts. The gang is forced to flee the bank as Arthur, Dutch, Javier, Micah, and Bill board a boat out of the city, with Charles offering himself up as a distraction so they can escape.

Guarma is nothing to write home about. If you remove it, nothing is taken away from the story, and there are parts of it that just feel out of place for a Red Dead game. What I would have preferred was a chapter with Sadie as she and Charles protect the group while they travel to Lakay. Speaking of Sadie, by this point, she had grown on me, especially in a later mission with Arthur where they bond while they take out the remaining O'Driscolls. Props to Alex McKenna, she knocked it out of the park in this scene, hell, the whole game. Sadie probably has the best character arc in the entire game. I might even have a new favorite female video game character (sorry, Aloy, you're still cool).

But before this came some of my favorite moments in the game. Two specific ones I want to talk about before I get into the rest of the second half include the TB reveal and the subsequent conversation about it. The reveal itself comes out of nowhere, although if you're watching closely when you go to get money from Thomas Downes and notice that Arthur has been coughing more and more up until this point, it may be pretty obvious what he has. A doctor confirms it after you suddenly fall off your horse coughing up blood: Arthur has tuberculosis. In 1889, this is a death sentence. As you leave the doctor's office, you either see a deer or a wolf depending on your honor level, a representation of your spirit. For the rest of the game, you are underweight no matter how much you eat as the disease slowly kills you. But this didn't sink in for me until the conversation with Sister Calderon. I know there's an alternate version of this conversation with Reverend Swanson if you have low honor, but the one with Calderon hit me hard when Arthur admitted he was afraid of dying (Roger Clark, you absolutely deserved winning Best Performer at the Game Award in 2018, you knocked this performance out of the park). Calderon tells him that he can now see his life clearly, and that helping people should be something to do before he passes on. It's just a beautiful conversation that made Arthur's condition even more real.

Dutch's decent into madness takes up most of the game's second half, besides Arthur's illness (though I will admit I loved the mission where you rode with Rains Fall). The final straw comes after the last train robbery the gang does, where Dutch refuses to rescue Abigail after she is taken by the pinkertons and claims John is dead. Not content to leave Jack an orphan, Arthur and Sadie ride to rescue Abigail. It turns out to be a trap with Milton holding them at gunpoint, revealing Micah as the traitor since Guarma. After dealing with Milton thanks to Abigail, Arthur sends the women off, before donning his hat for one last ride. I'm pretty sure I mentioned before on this blog that "Portals" from Endgame is now something I'm conditioned to cry to. Well, now another song can do that, "That's The Way It Is" by Daniel Lanois, the song that plays as Arthur takes one last ride to camp while he hears the voices of those that he helped or hurt along the way. Seriously, I'm crying as I'm writing this because I'm listening to the song right now.

When Arthur gets back to camp and accuses Micah of being the traitor, John arrives as well, claiming that Dutch left him to die. Before a shoot out can begin between the remaining gang members over loyalty, the pinkertons arrive. Arthur and John escape the confusion until their horses are shot down, giving Arthur one last moment with his chosen horse and allowing you to make one last decision: cover John's escape or go retrieve the gang's money in the cave? Choose to cover John's escape as the finale it leads to is the best one you can get with high honor. After a bit of running, it becomes clear to Arthur that he won't make it and someone needs to stall the pinkertons. After a short goodbye to John, he gives him his signature hat while John calls him his brother. Minutes later, he is ambushed by Micah and nearly shoots him until Dutch stops him. Micah and Dutch leave as Arthur passes away from his injuries and tuberculosis, seeing one last sunrise before dying.

Now for the epilogue. Yes, it was long as hell and I did not need it to be around four hours long. However, I will say that there were some great moments there. I was relieved to hear that Charles and Sadie made it out, while Pearson settled down and got his own general store in Rhodes, Tilly got married to a Hatian lawyer, and Mary Beth became a romance writer. But two of the best moments come from the last two missions of the game. The first comes when John proposes to Abigail on the lake. It's just such a sweet scene and a great moment between the pair with John deciding to truly commit to Abigail.

But the cherry on top comes with the final mission, American Venom, where John, Sadie, and Charles ride to confront Micah Bell one last time. It culminates in a standoff with John, Dutch, and Micah who is holding Sadie at gunpoint. Dutch finally ends the standoff by shooting Micah after everything, after which the game gives you one last Deadeye as John in the most satisfying moment of the game when you shoot the bastard (honestly, is there anyone who likes Micah?).

The game ends with John using the money from Blackwater to pay off the bank that owns his ranch and marries Abigail during the credits as "Mountain Hymn”, another song that makes me cry from this game, plays while we see what has become of several members of the cast. This game was just brilliant. Rockstar outdid themselves this time, and while it isn’t perfect, what with the realism of gameplay being too much sometimes, the Guarma chapter being unnecessary, and the Epilogue being 3 hours too long while reminding us of the turmoil to come in the first RDR game, I still loved playing as an outlaw from the last days of the American West. It’s definitely another one to add to my list of favorite games of all time and I’m glad I got to play it during a period of similar conclusion in my life.

It’s almost poetic.

Yeah, this game was fabulous. I’m done now.

[trvelyans-archive]

There’s a woman at the end of the bar who won’t stop staring at Arthur.

At first, he thought maybe Colm sent her, but she doesn’t look like his type of woman. She’s a little too American for that bastard’s tastes. Then Arthur thought that maybe the bartender called her over to keep an eye on him, which he couldn’t blame the man for, really, considering the trouble he’s caused here lately. But it doesn’t seem like she’s watchin’ him for either of those reasons, really. If she was, she probably woulda made some sort of move sooner. She’s just… sittin’ there, with her eyes trained on him like he’s a Goddamn Christmas hog she’s gonna shoot and cook for dinner.

She’s pretty, too. He doesn’t much like that.

He downs his finger of whiskey with his left hand, his right hovering against the gun in his holster. (It’s a new one – pulled it off the body of some O’Driscoll he shot dead in the middle of the Heartlands the other night.) Not that he thinks she’s gonna shoot his head off, mind you, but it never hurts to be prepared around these parts, especially when he’s a couple of drinks into his evening already. It’s not doin’ much to help his pounding headache – being around that jackass Micah Bell for too long would do that to a man – but he’d rather sit here by his lonesome and wallow in his pain for a little while than be back at camp arguing with Dutch about… well, he’s sure they’d find something.

Seems all they do nowadays is argue. Or talk in a way that makes them feel like they’re not arguing when they really are.

He lowers his face to the tabletop, examining the cigarette cards he’s laid out to take a good look at, but out of the corner of his eye he can still see that woman watching him. She looks about twenty-five – might look older if he saw her in the sun when he was sober – and she has warm brown hair pulled into two braids on either side of her head, messy like she’d done them herself without a mirror (which he knows very well to be difficult, because Mary-Beth complains about it often when she begs Arthur to let her use his). She’s pale, too, with a face full of freckles and a handful of moles, and she’s got dark eyes like bullet holes, still pointed in his direction.

When she raises her arm, he half expects to hear a gunshot ring through the air, but she just gestures her cup towards him and takes a sip.

That’s when he realizes he’s been lookin’ too long, and perhaps that he’s drunk much more than he thought he did.

Unfortunately for him, even after shaking his head and forcing his attention back to the cards on the table, it’s only a couple seconds ‘til the seat across from him is pulled out and the woman sits down across from him. “Thought maybe you didn’t see me,” she says, placing her cup – empty – in front of his cards.

“Hard not to,” he replies, forcing himself not to meet her eyes. “Can’t quite ignore you when you’ve spent the past hour starin’ at me.”

“So you noticed.” She smiles. “Why didn’t’cha come up and say anythin’?” she asks, leaning forward to make sure he can see her.

He does lift his head up at that, though. “I, uh… didn’t think that’s what you’d wanted,” he replies, clearing his throat and reaching forward to grab one of the cards between two of his fingers, flipping it over to take a look at the writing on the back. “Thought maybe you were just waitin’ for me to cause some trouble and kick me out, and I didn’t intend on causin’ any sort of trouble tonight.”

“Mmm… A shame, that.”

He holds the card up higher, hoping it might hide some of the newfound heat rising on his cheeks.

“I’m Mabel.” She holds her right hand out to him from across the table, forcing him to put the card down so he can see her still smiling the same darlin’ smile. “Mabel Olsen. And your name is…”

“Arthur,” he replies before he can think better of it. “Arthur Morgan.”

“Arthur Morgan.” She clicks her tongue against the top of her teeth like she’s tasting the sound of his name in her mouth. “I like it.”

“Well, thank you,” he replies. “Can’t quite take all the credit for it, though.”

She laughs, leaning back in her chair and glancing around the room. Up close she looks just about the same as she did from the bar, but now he notices a couple of scars littered across her hands and shoulders, and her voice sounds much deeper than he thought it would. So she’s definitely older than twenty – twenty-five still seems like a good guess.

She’s definitely not as old as he is.

“What’re you doin’ in town tonight, Arthur Morgan?”

Hopefully nothing, he wants to say. It’s been a crazy couple of weeks, after all – months, even, when he thinks about it. First, having to ride out of Blackwater with the whole gang after the ferry job went wrong, then hidin’ out in the mountains and freezing half to death every night, and now, after meeting those jackasses Milton and what’s-his-name when he was out with fishing with Jack last week, it seems like Arthur can’t quite catch a break at all nowadays without someone shooting at him or yelling at him to clean up someone else’s mess every hour or so.

He can’t tell her any of that, though. He doesn’t want to scare her off, even if she is interrupting his carefully made plans for a boring evening. Might be nice to keep her around and talk to her for a little while.

So, instead, he flattens one of his hands against the table, fiddling with his belt buckle underneath the table with the other. “Drinkin’,” he replies. “Lookin’ at these. You?”

“Drinkin’,” she responded. “Lookin’ at you.”

He’s lucky he finished his last drink before she came over. If he had been drinking when she said that, he would’ve choked on his whiskey. Even now, he just about chokes on thin air.

“What’s so special about these?” she questions suddenly, pushing herself up from her chair and bracing one of her arms against the table to lean on it. “Aren’t these just cigarette cards?”

“Well, yes, but…” He clears his throat, scrubbing a hand against his beard. “I like collectin’ them, I guess.”

She doesn’t say anything for a couple seconds. When she does, her voice is much quieter. “Used to know someone who liked collectin’ ‘em, too.” And then she smiles at him again. “He liked the famous gunslinger ones, though he couldn’t’a been less of a gunslinger himself if he tried. Which ones do you like?”

Arthur thinks about it for a moment. “I like the ones with all the animals on them,” he says, grabbing one and pushing it towards her. “And the horses.”

“The horses,” she repeats, then cocks her head at him and squints like she’s giving him a thorough inspections. “Are you a cowboy, Arthur Morgan?”

“You could say that,” he responds, finally smiling back at her.

“Do you collect anything else?”

He inhales deeply, pursing his lips as he thinks. “Don’t know if I mean to so much as I end up doing it accidentally,” he answers. His bag is full of little bits and pieces of things he picks up – feels like he can’t walk two steps without finding something that catches his eye. “But sure, I collect plenty of things. And I have a journal, too.”

He didn’t mean to say that – he normally doesn’t like to talk about his journal with people, because then they always ask to see it, and it’s much more boring and personal than they think it’s going to be if he does show them or they get offended when he doesn’t. “A journal,” she echoes. “’s funny. You look like some rough-and-tumble outlaw, but you got a soft side to you. I can tell already, if you collectin’ cigarette cards and writin’ in a journal wasn’t enough.”

“I guess,” he grumbles good-naturedly, lowering his head to look at his cards again. “Do you collect anything, Miss Olsen?”

She laughs. “Oh, don’t call me that, Arthur,” she says. “My mother would never stop rollin’ in her grave if you did. Mabel is fine. And no, I don’t. Don’t see much point in it.”

“Guess that’s true.”

“Might change my mind now, though.”

He clears his throat and forces himself to look around, to look at anywhere that isn’t her smiling face.

The bar is nowhere near full, even at this time of night in this nice weather. (Though maybe that’s why – some of the folk in Valentine might be out enjoyin’ it.) Mabel’s old seat near the bartender is still empty. She could go back to it, if she wanted to, or move to a table to talk to someone else, but she doesn’t. Instead she keeps sitting across from him, watching him, running a finger around the rim of her glass with the tip of her tongue sticking out between her bared teeth, like a wolf waiting to pounce.

“So what made you come over here?” he asks eventually, letting himself look at her again.

She shrugs. “Thought you looked interestin’,” she answers, “and you certainly are. Although I like just about any man that doesn’t offer to fuck me before he even buys me a God damn drink.”

Arthur clenches his jaw. He doesn’t know what to say to that, but now his mind is definitely beginning to fill with somewhat indecent thoughts he’d rather not dwell on.

“And I thought it’d be nice to talk to someone. Thought you’d actually want to talk to me.”

He frowns. “What’s that mean?”

She shrugs again. “Don’t quite know,” she says. “Just… thought we’d get along. Most people don’t like talkin’ to me after a little while, probably ‘cuz I like being a pain in the ass.”

He didn’t consider her to be a pain in the ass at all, and if there’s something that Arthur Morgan hates more than suckin’ snake venom out of another man’s leg and runnin’ out of bullets in the middle of a gunfight, it’s people – like God damn Micah Bell - who are a pain in the ass. So he chuckles, hopin’ it might make her feel better. “Believe me, I’ve talked to much worse.”

Mabel smiles back, to no surprise, but she seems to stiffen a little as he watches her. “Anyway, if you’re askin’ because you want me to leave you alone –“

“Hey, now, did I say that?”

That gives her pause. “No, I guess I just…” She purses her lips. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?” she finally says.

“Can’t much say the same for you,” he teases.

“Chicken shit.” She grins at him. “Now who’s being a pain in the ass? You stay here, file all your little cigarette cards away in your bag next to your... I dunno... hairbrush and mirror and hair pomade, and I’ll go get us some more drinks. You look like a whiskey man, Arthur. Are you a whiskey man?”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Hang on, I can pay –“

Before he can finish, she pulls a heavy sack of what he assumes to be money from her bag and hefts it onto the table, where it lands with a loud thud. “Please,” she says, “let me.”

Arthur stares at it for a second and then looks up at her. “Maybe you are full of surprises.”

“Oh, I certainly am.” She stands up and rifles through the bag, completely ignoring the other patrons in the bar staring at them as she pulls a couple of bills from a stack. “Get a few more drinks in me and I’ll have even more surprises to show you, then.”

Before she heads off to the bar, she looks over her shoulder and gives him a playful wink that just about knocks the air out of his lungs, and all of a sudden Arthur is very, very glad that he isn’t going to have a boring night.