#vanwiinkle

        —       @vanwiinkle | ( x )

200 RANDOM DIALOGUE PROMPTS

✗ — An ungraceful snort fell out in response to the quip, tension in his shoulders lessening by just a touch with a feeling he'd sooner eat his hat than acknolwedge. If John was well enough to be a little shit, he was well on his way to recovery. Arthur briefly looked around, taking note of and then kicking a nearby chair closer towards the cot for him to sit — briefly considering kicking the cot itself as well, for good measure, before ultimately deciding against it. For now at least.

" Well, John, I was sent by Miss Grimshaw to see if you was still breathing, but seeing that you've given me such a considerate suggestion instead, I think I'll do just that, "   he chuckled, sitting down and digging into his stachel in order to take out a half empty pack of cigarettes.

     Why they'd think to send him of all people was beyond his grasp, especially when he could've — and had — told them that John was and would be fine. No need to have gone to check in order to be sure, not when John had the Devil's luck in his pocket.

" You do look mighty miserable, I will say, "   Arthur added with plentiful cheer, striking a match against the heel of his boots and lighting a cigarette for himself,   " Swear to God, one of these days we'll manage to find some kind of way to get you to stay out of trouble. Pretty sure I overheard Hosea talking about sticking you in some kind of cage for it. Reckon that'll get the job done as good as any at least. "

     Was he being fair ?  Probably not. Whether that at all mattered to him or not in the first place was a different question, but it was one he didn't feel like answering either. Though he couldn't keep his eyes from flickering towards John's face, taking in the sunken and sickly quality of it before letting out a silent sigh, closer to an exhale with smoke curling out of his mouth.

“  because  it  ain’t  safe,  johnny,  ”    arthur  answers,  not  looking  up  from  where  he’s  packing  his  satchel.  he  knows  john  wants  to  come  with  them  on  jobs.  he  KNOWS  it,  but  it’s  just  not  in  the  cards.  not  yet.  it  wouldn’t  work  out  —  their  concentration  needs  to  be  on  the  task  at  hand,  and  arthur  is  well-aware  of  the  fact  that  he  would  be  too  busy  trying  to  keep  an  eye  on  john,  trying  to  make  sure  the  kid  doesn’t  get  in  the  way,  to  properly  pay  attention  to  everything  else  going  on.

                                                      someone  would  get  HURT.

“  i  know  you  think  you’re  old  enough,  but  not  yet,  john.  not  yet.  ”    arthur  has  spent  enough  time  with  john  to  know  what  his  next  argument  would  have  been  :  he’d  have  reminded  him  that  he’s  older  now,  that  he’s  better  with  a  gun  than  he  used  to  be,  and  while  all  of  that  is  true,  it  is  too  much  of  a  risk.  still,  he  knows  how  disappointing  this  is  for  john  ...  so,  one  of  the  revolvers  on  his  belt  is  removed,  the  older  cowboy  finally  turning  to  face  the  younger.

arthur’s  eyes  narrow  as  soon  as  he  walks  out  the  back  door  of  the  bar.  god,  not  this  kid  again.  no,  no,  no.  he  doesn’t  have  the  patience  for  this  right  now.  absolutely  not.  arms  fold  across  broad  chest  as  he  leans  against  the  closed  door,  remaining  perfectly  silent  as  he  watches  JOHN  MARSTON  touch  something  that  most  DEFINETLY  does  not  belong  to  him  :  arthur’s  motorcycle.  

how  many  times  has  he  ran  john  off?  he’s  lost  count  by  now  —  always  sneaking  in  and  lingering  around  the  place  when  he  shouldn’t  be.  

@vanwiinkle ❝  sometimes things aren’t alright and they’re not gonna be okay for a while.  and that’s alright.  as cliche as it sounds it’s okay to not be okay.  give yourself time.  ❞

"And if I don't have time?"

Alice had been running. It was getting harder to tell if her pursuers were real or in her head. Was she running from her mind or her guilt? At times it felt like everything was closing in.

It was starting to be too much. Too many thoughts raced in her mind. The heat of the fire that consumed her family, the long hallways of the asylum, a train. There was no escaping to Wonderland in this moment.

Of course, she didn't mention these specifics to him. Alice had no intention of letting her moment of weakness show. Yet here she was, unable to hold back tears that escaped. She tried to brush off any concern shown to her. "I highly doubt that I'll ever be 'okay' again."

he’s  not  expecting  it,  the  words  that  john  mutters,  soft  and  almost  EMBARASSED.  arthur  blinks.  it’s  almost  sad,  hearing  john  say  such  things  ;  arthur  doesn’t  want  him  to  idolize  him.  he  doesn’t  want  a  shadow,  doesn’t  want  someone  to  want  to  be  like  him.  he’s  a  lot  of  things,  but  he’s  not  someone  that  john  should  be  looking  up  to.  he  should  want  to  be  like  dutch  or  hosea  —  not  arthur.  just  because  he’s  good  at  shooting  and  all  of  that  bullshit  doesn’t  mean  that  john  should  look  up  to  him  ;  when  it  matters  most,  arthur  isn’t  the  one  to  strive  to  be  like.

 @vanwiinkle​ 🔥 / fkdkkd  || Send “🔥?” and my muse will admit whether they find your muse attractive or not.  (always accepting)

If you know how to handle a gun and respect women, you’re already a catch in Ebony’s book, but there’s more to admire about John Marston. Strictly considering appearance, she likes the rugged, rough look he has about him, a stark contrast to herself even during that era of her life. Whether he intends it or not, he dresses well, even if there’s usually a layer of dust or grime covering his clothes. Ebony has a thing about scars, probably because she doesn’t have any herself and can’t get them unless there’s holy water involved. With permission, she likes to trace them with her fingers while listening to the tales detailing whatever caused them. She is attracted to danger as much as she is beauty, after all, so they serve as a symbolic reminder of that person’s inner strength every time she looks at them. Very bluntly put, she also likes how hot the man looks doing things he’s good at, especially shooting and horseback riding. His body reflects his daily activities, strong and lean and nice to admire when he thinks no one’s looking.