' ~𝑅𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐶𝑎𝑖𝑛'✓ [RDR2 OC]

Civilised Man to Man Conversation

"Naw, really?" He smiled and laughed, ensuring the safety was on the rifle, before lowering it down by his side.
"Mh, yeah. All of it, too. She washed him, went and bought him makeup, and brought him into the house, expecting us to feed the poor lad."
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"Why didn't ya?"
"It was a pig, Arthur."
"Don't teach you over in Ireland much about judging too harshly by what the skin entails?"
Caim huffed. "Oh, very mature, Mr. Freedom and justice, socail reverence for minorities."
Arthur shrugged, a little proudly and hopped back on his horse.
"Let's get these back before they start to stink."
Cain nodded, hopped up on his horse, and they began to ride back to camp.

When they finally found what seemed like a road, Cain paralleled his horse to Arthur's.
"Javier was, uhm. He was saying things. Do you think I'm acting off, Arthur?"
Arthur tilted his head, keeping his eyes on the icy track. His lips pursed, and he sighed.
"I can't exactly say you've been ripe as day lately, or ever Cain. You're a strange one. Stranger than most, and maybe yeah, you're a bit "off," but who isn't? Important thing is you're not foaming from the mouth and throwing lead at the women and jack."
Cain opened his mouth to answer, thought, and then smiled.
"I guess. I'm trying to get better. Going from worse to best and then being struck down again. Feels like my life is just on loop right now."
Arthur scratched the side of his face. It probably didn't even itch. He was just thinking.
"Well, I started off bad. Parents went from not around to into the ground, and I thought I lost all hope." His head leant back, like he was reliving a nostalgic memory. "But then I found Dutch and Hosea. They were my family. That's what you need, Cain.
You need a family."
Cain laughed dryly.
"Yeah, maybe, or a rope and platform. Depends who you ask."
Arthur was amused with this. It must've matched his humour. Or his experience.
"Hah, yeah, I could say that about everyone in that camp, but we all gotta look out for each other, also, ain't you Irish? You've been...going back and forth every so often. Not a good look for gettin' people's trust."

Cain swallowed thickly. He'd had an American accent played at first, but soon it was weakening, and he knew he lost it often. It was a impulsive play that was not fooling anyone. It worried him that they might be bounty Hunters, and "Irush accent" was a big descriptor on bounty posters.
"When I feel like it."
||\

"Jesus Christ, bout time you stopped moping about and freaking out the inhabitants of the camp." Pearson spat and hauled the deer up from the saddle. He didn't like Cain very much. Probably because of his weird suspicions that he was an impostor, a spy. Pearson definitely had a screw loose.
Dutch trudged in all fancy like, whispered something to Arthur, and he left. Cain's eyes softened as he got ready to deny any murder allegations.

Everything happened so fast, and before he knew, Dutch and whisked him off somewhere private, insisting they had a "civilised man to man conversation"

"Listen," Dutch guided Cain to the side of the barn in which he'd first been encountered by them all. "Javier said, well, that you've been saying some things."
Cain's mouth lined. "Javier should change where he labels his ass with the amount of shit he says." He added a somewhat sarcastic tone in case Dutch really cared for Javier as much as he thought.

"He said you was a serial killer."
"I prefer freedom fighter."
"Your father was in a terrorist group?"
"The IRB are not terrorists. Freedom. Fighters."
"But of course. But for the sake of the stability of the group -" Dutch faltered.

"I was lying. He was getting under my skin. What can I say? All I did was tell a campfire story to make him stop trialling me."
"You just don't seem like an all innocent family, man."
Cain raised an eyebrow, leaning on a post in an insulted manner. "Family man" and "boy" seemed to be hus top descriptors from the camp. They didn't seem to grasp the idea he could be both.
"Now, what's that supposed to mean?"
"For one thing, you're an exceptional shooter."

"Why, thank you, I don't see the harm in that."
"Well, you was a family man."
"Exactly, Dutch. I was. I ain't anymore, because they're dead. Now, the sooner you realise that, the sooner this'll all be out of yere hair. I ain't acting like a Dad no more cuz' I ain't got a daughter no more, get it? See what I'm going for?"

Dutch didn't like this disrespect. Cain suddenly wanted to sink back into his skin. Dutch poked Cain in the chest.
"I know it hurts, boy." His voice was stern, like a preacher building up for a response.
"But you are a team player, and I'm the captain. To be a team player, you need to cooperate with your team. Now I say you make amends with that man, or you'll be in some fierce bad records from here on out. Understand?"
Cain nodded, then eyed him suspiciously.
"What else did he say about me?"
Dutch's anger was faltering. "What?"
"He was listening in an awful lot. What did he say about me that got you riled up about something else? I mean, in all fairness, we've all killed our share, and Javier himself was a sort of rebel in Mexico. He should be the last to tattle on me for pulling justice for the people of my country. Hell, if anything, I killed the least innocent of the lot. Whadhe' say, Dutch?"
Cain couldn't help but let his voice flatten. It was a threatening tone he didn't notice til it left his lips.
Dutch straightened his shoulders, turned and walked off.
"It's best if that is left unspoken unless you want a wad of cash added to your bounty for deviancy."

Cain's mouth hung open stupidly as Dutch disappeared around the corner.