Most of the color washed out of Arthur's face the second he's stripped, sheared (they cut off his beard!) and damn near scrubbed down to the bone marrow. He had half a mind to clock one of those overzealous creeps but he doesn't get the chance. It happens too fast like a whirlwind. One minute he's there, the next he's whisked away elsewhere. Arthur doesn't even get the damn chance to process what's going on, nevertheless think of how he ended up here. However, he certainly remembers something about a door and he has a sinking feeling he messed up by walking through.
He listened a little here and there to the slithers of information given but all he cared about is Delilah, his horse. So cue in Arthur here receiving the dirtiest of looks from the locals as he strolls on by with his dear fox trotter in tow. He feels a little better now that he has Delilah by the reins again but not by much. Arthur is about half a lifetime away from all he once knew and then some. Without Dutch, Hosea and the rest of the gang, he's like a fish out of water.]
What in the hells you starin' at?! [He snaps at the nearest bystander earning an alarmed gasp.] Keep it, ugly! I'll make you even uglier.
[The outlaw sneers for good measure to get those fellers to piss off. Arthur is quite aware that he's mean looking and he'll use that to his advantage however he may.]
Better get on outta here! Move!
[Still fussing, cussing and carrying on, Arthur keeps on marching until some real persist bastards come along talking about 'he's not allowed here'. Arthur positively bristles at that.]
What's you're problem, feller?!
[This is about to get nasty real quick.]
» » » DISCORD
Good Lord!
[Arthur hasn't seen this much skin in a long time!
The Autonomy is an odd little spot filled with bright lights, a fully decked out bar and lots of folks forsaking dignity for the promise of a fun evening behind closed doors. Arthur can't help but gawk once he gets shoved inside. Be damned if he knows why he took the offer. Lord knows he's seeking a stiff drink more than he's looking for tail. Nevertheless, this comes as a bit of a culture shock for Arthur.]
Watch it now. [He grumbles gruffly once some feller gets a little too personal with him.] Ain't interested in what you're sellin'.
[Arthur scoffs a little as he pushes his way towards the bar. As soon as he reaches there, he looks the bartender right in the eye and demands whiskey straight. No ice or anything. Just whiskey.]
Dutch isn't goin' believe this...[He mutters into his glass sullenly.]
» » » CRIME DOES PAY
Stick 'em, up.
[After having a very eventful day ending with him drinking and punching a few folks, Arthur gets down to business. While he isn't exactly proud of his usual profession, he's hellbent about getting out of here. That's why he decided he's going to get as much money as possible to make it happen.]
C'mon! Quit stallin'.
[He nudges his gun forward a little, making sure poke them with the barrel.]
Do you have wax in your ears? I'm not gonna ask again!
[Arthur cocks his revolver and presses it firmer.]
Arthur Morgan | RDR2 | Submissive