#brotherwarnock

asmodeus: on whom do you want revenge and how would you take it?

“whom” is a little difficult to pin down. joseph’s morals are ultimately confusing and contorted on the best of days. depending on where the hounds are at, it could be anyone --- the american government, those who would be so foolish as to let themselves be walked all over by the government, henry ( he has reoccuring dreams of henry’s death over and over, and they’re never particularly pleasant ) --- but if there were to be one specific person, i think he harbors a lot of resentment towards adaline. she had essentially been the catalyst in beginning joseph’s new life as an outlaw, and while he’s thankful for that, nearly killing everyone in a blaze of fury isn’t really the way to go when it comes to keeping trust. revenge is not necessarily a tactic joseph preaches, but if there’s a way to get back at addy, i think he’d take it.

verrith: are you a patient or impatient person?

☼: What is your muses favourite kind of weather?

he likes those middle-days of spring where it’s not too hot, not too cold, and the snow has melted off to keep the air from drying out. or rainy weather, although rain can be deadly if you don’t have anywhere good to go. he’d gotten sick once during a rainstorm, when he was about twenty-seven, and his cough still gets bad whenever it gets too chilly or wet.

✘: What are your muses pet peeves?

drinking to excess while on watch duty, leading lawmen back to camp, and not being careful about watching the height the fire reaches when on the run are very quick ways to get on joseph’s shit list if you’re not careful. don’t do that, because he will throw a hissy fit.

✉: What is something your muse would write about?

“The hand won’t change, no matter how long you stare at it.” 

A makeshift table made from a repurposed peach crate sat between them, and a few strewn playing cards atop that. The wind whipped outside the canvas enclosure where crickets would have chirped, were they not frozen like the topsoil, the gale rippled their confines. He hated the chill, but that went without saying; the blanket around his shoulders was evidence enough. 

Erol watched in amusement as Jude studied the cards in his hand. “The night is long, but... it’s not infinite,” he said softly. “Just play.”