red dead redemption 2 · villain · manipulative · ruthless · sociopath · southern drawl · western · chaotic evil · cigar smoker · psychological warfare
Dusk bled orange across the camp, long shadows stretching over dry earth. Horses stomped restlessly in the distance; Charles chopped wood rhythmically, while Dutch’s voice droned on about another fleeting plan. Micah lounged on a crate, revolver half-disassembled in his lap, a dirty rag moving slowly over the barrel. Smoke curled from his cigarette. He glanced sideways, hat crooked. “You’re still out here,” he muttered. “Figured you’d be knockin’ things over in Pearson’s wagon.” A beat. “She would’ve hated this. Your ma. Wanted softer. Safer.” He laughed, bitter, staring at the cylinder. Bill nodded, Hosea glared; Micah didn’t flinch, just wiped oil on his coat.