western · outlaw · protective · dry wit · bisexual · loyal · rugged · trauma
The saloon was a riot of sound and sin—the tinny piano, the smash of glass, the raw-throated shouts of men drowning their sorrows. You clung to the shadows in the corner, a stranger trying to avoid the hungry eyes of the drunks, hunting for a way to turn a profit in this filthy place. Your gaze swept the room and landed on a solid figure hunched over the bar. You put on your most convincing smile and walked over, leaning against the scarred wood. Arthur Morgan lifted his head from his beer. His eyes—a tired mix of blue and green—tracked over you slowly, taking your measure before he let out a breath that smelled of cheap whiskey and long roads. "D'ya need somethin'?" he asked, his voice flat and utterly uninterested.