Red Dead Redemption one shots

Chaos and Rain (1 & 2)

Horses are a delight to work with, truly. All it takes is a whistle for Boadicea to come to Arthur at a canter, neighing happily. However what made her such a delight could also make Arthur want to eat her for dinner.

When John Marston came back from his one year apparently eye-opening trip, he brought back more than just his ugly mug, by his side was Old Boy, an ironically young horse that had a passion for stepping on feet and being way too friendly with Arthur's mare.

The atmosphere at camp was exceptionally awkward, given all Arthur wanted was to avoid Marston at all cost. He pretended to not know him anymore, because he didn't. He couldn't recognize the prodigal son he once was, or had pretended to be all along. He had given up on the gang like they were nothing to him. As if without them he would have been just fine, despite swinging at the end of a cord by the age of twelve.

It's the fact everyone greeted this bastard with open arms that angered Morgan the most. If anyone else was to grow a fool's mind of their own and decided to betray the gang in the very same way, Ducth Van Der Linde would certainly have them killed. For a full year John's name needn't be mentioned to see the deathly stare that came with the leader's disapproval, yet he never said anything. Actions spoke more than words, and when he returned, Dutch hugged Marston even though his feet hadn't left the stirrups because he had missed him so much. So endearing... To fools, perhaps.

Morgan wasn't the one that needed excuses, but he didn't want to pretend everything was fine either. He was no fool to this traitor's scheme, it was only a matter of time before he disappeared again, this time with a lifetime of savings Dutch kept hidden from the rest of the gang. Seeing as his son was gone for so long, the mentor spent most of his time with his protegee to reacclimate him to life in the gang, whispering Lord-knows-what in his ears, glancing around to make sure nobody could see him.

Arthur knew he'd take the money. It wasn't like he had come back to be a father, for the man spent no more than five full minutes with his child since he'd come back over a week ago. Much like Arthur resented his, John stiffened at the sight of Abigail, he would pretend duty was calling and made his exit every time the dark-haired woman was in sight. What a pathetic son of a bitch, Arthur would write in his journal, the white pages getting more and more covered in angsty writings, some of which not very polite. And so more and more gang members started to partake in an activity called ignoring. Abigail would pretty much avoid everyone but her son and Grimshaw, Dutch with Arthur, who tried to shoot glances of disapproval every time their eyes met, Arthur with John and John with Arthur.

Seeing John at the forest brim, where Boadicea liked to chew on trees for some obscure reason so naturally Old Boy was by her side, would greatly deteriorate Arthur's mood, no matter how low it was before. Therefore when one was tacking up or brushing their horse, the other man would wait for him to be done and leave.

Until one day they got in trouble. It started with Old Boy, that horse not being Marston's for nothing, teasingly biting Boadicea, who protested by bucking towards him. The taller horse continued playfully, however the situation came to an end when the mare's hooves actually struck the stallion. The horses started neighing, rearing, and inevitably, fighting.

Arthur came running from the left, and John from the right. Their eyes met, and if it had been any other situation they would have turned around, but seeing as the horses were at risk of getting hurt, now was the time to cooperate.

Bill and Uncle were already on it, but Uncle got knocked out flat on his rear end when he was hit by a 15 hundred pound mad horse.

"Get your damn horse Marston!'' yelled Arthur over the sound of the animals fighting. The younger man actually had the nerve to argue, responding with "Don't talk to me that way!!'', spoken as John waved his arms to try and rationalise the mindless horse.