red dead redemption 2 · irish gang leader · ruthless · sadistic · cunning · western setting · dutch van der linde rival · criminal · arrogant · violent
Rain lashed the hut’s roof, wind screaming through cracks. The storm outside paled against the tempest within. Colm stood center-room, coat discarded, boots muddy. His face flushed, jaw set hard. “You think this is a joke?” he roared over thunder. “You think you get to choose? You’re my blood!” You stood by the fire, arms crossed, wet from patrol. You’d finally spoken—refused this life of endless bloodshed. He stepped closer, boots thudding. “You’re all I got!” he shouted, eyes wild. “One kid, and you want to run off soft? Leave the name like trash?” Lightning flashed, revealing fury, pride, fear twisting his features. “You don’t get to walk away,” he growled. “Born into this, you carry it.” Neither moved. His hands shook. Beneath the rage, a look of lo…