–- “ -Miss? You dropped this. ”

Charles merely minded his business as he shopped around the general store. More often than naught did he buy anything from town... but sometimes a wedge of cheese and a few biscuits were not bad with some of his jerky. 

   the swindler, the favor-granter, the saint denis charlatan and all of the unfavorable names granted to the suit-clad devil who could always be found seated in the park with a fancy, gold pocket watch pressed against his palm. since his unruly alliance with dutch’s gang, lucifer was the one pulling the strings in terms of making sure no harm befell the women and that little urchin at camp, so long as he had souls to punish. the terms didn’t actually go into detail and saying one was the devil apparently wasn’t an uncommon phrase thrown around. devil this, devil that-- he finds it amusing how many mortals believe they are evil incarnate and yet can be snuffed out with a snake berry from a bush. but anyway, terms that he make cash deals and procure information on the pinkertons to keep them at bay. today is different and once the redhead had appeared upon the cobblestone path, pocket watch is tucked away and an amused smile is adorned. ‘i was wondering when you’d show up, my little bounty hunter! do have a seat, we have much to plot and scheme.’

five word prompts ( ACCEPTING. )

𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍,  ❝ well,  it’s  usually  for  money,  women,  or  power.  sometimes  if  we’re  real  stupid,  we  take  on  all  three. ❞  men  are  predictable,  especially  men  like  him.  wave  a  handful  of  cash  &  give  him  a  bottle  of  something  strong  &  he’ll  do  just  about  anything.  his  only  shield  against  being  a  drunkard  fool  shot  dead  some  place  takes  the  shape  of  his  older  brother.  blood  thicker  than  water  ;  some  semblance  of  meaning  &  purpose  when  you’re  half  of  something.  life  has  been  easier  &  kinder  that  way  ( but  cruel  &  unforgiving  in  so  many  others ).

light  eyes  narrow,  nose  crinkling  as  bewilderment  can’t  be  hidden  from  spreading  across  features.  ❝ but  you  women  are  so  much  worse  if  ya  ask  me.  i  ain’t  got  a  damn  clue  what  goes  on  in  your  heads. ❞

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐘   :   𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. || @badmcdicine

         ❝ Well... you ain’t the only one. ❞ Not that it was of any consolation, in fact, her tone only causes Arthur to push out a laugh.❝ I’m gonna guess you ain’t a stranger to havin’ a gun pointed at your head. Course it’s only a guess. ❞ A pretty good one, if he said so himself. Some people just looked like they’d caused trouble before, and she fit that bill, then again, so did he, he supposed.

⚔️ Caring For Stubborn Muses (Drabbles) | ACCEPTING ⚔️

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” the Mexican hissed as he clutched onto his arm firmly. Red seeped out from between stained fingers as he squeezed the wound tightly, hoping that it would help alleviate some of the pain, or at the very least staunch the flow of bloom coming from it. Coming out of the firefight, he thought the bullet had just grazed his arm. That was how it felt at least. Buzzed on adrenaline, the pain had been little more than a faint stinging that only occupied a backmost corner of his mind. More important things occupied the front, like how the hell he would manage to weasel his way out of the combat, which target to prioritize first and put in the sight of his carbine. A little nick to the arm was the least of his worries, until he finally had the chance to get a good look at it. The last of his rush drained from him, and following was the color from his face. The wound was no scratch. It was a full-on puncture from a gunshot wound. Raw and bleeding and delicate to the touch, no doubt he’d gotten sweat and gunpowder into it— the last thing he needed. He didn’t see the bullet at least, which seemed to be the only upside.

“It sure didn’t hurt this much when I was out there trading bullets with those raiders. Hell, I didn’t even know I’d been shot.” Though he managed to heave out a hoarse chuckle, the pain stifled it from holding any real humor to it. Luckily, the projectile had not struck anywhere critical. It hit the lower arm, just a ways below his posterior elbow. Though it probably wouldn’t be fatal if he kept it clean and wrapped, that didn’t do much to put Javier at ease. He refused to loosen his grip on it at first, teeth grit and the occasional shuddered hiss escaping through them. “I need a whiskey or something, this stings como una puta like you wouldn’t believe. I had no idea it could be this bad.”

❝ 𝐀𝐘𝐄? ❞  voice  remained  unaffected  though  light  hues  flickered  up  from  the  stack  of  notes  he  was  shifting  between  blistered  fingers  to  make  count  of.  pausing  so  attention  could  focus  solely  on  the  fellow  redhead,  brow  raised  as  smile  pulled  at  his  lips,  ❝ more  unsavory  than  you  and  me,  you  mean? ❞  mac  doubted  that.  still,  it  was  good  to  be  aware  of  who  was  lurking  in  the  shadows,  even  if  they  didn’t  stand  a  chance  against  him.  money  tucked  into  his  dusty  coat  pocket,  free  hands  now  gestured  to  the  seat  beside  him  for  her  to  sit,  ❝ what  kind’a  folk  you  heard  talk  of  then? ❞  //  @badmcdicine  ( meme. )

Nonverbal RP Starters ( accepting.)