Until Death - Red Dead Redemption II

Act XIX: The Bottom of a Bottle

After Jack's little "incident" he was in desperate need of a drink. Something hard enough to make him forget what happened today. Maybe then he can just live in blissful ignorance to his reality. However, the brunette just burnt down the goddamn saloon so they need to go somewhere else.

As the train pulled into Valentine's train Arthur made his best attempt at cheering Jack up. Which was just him poking fun at people, he'd gotten the blood washed off but it might as well still be there with how Jack feels. He's a killer. A killer without any regard for others. What's separating him from those men who killed his family? He just killed a father himself...

As they approached the saloon doors the sound of chattering's and dusty piano playing grew louder and louder. If Jack had to guess he'd say there's about sixty folks in here, enough to be a bit excessive but not enough to make moving hard. That is except for the bar which is essentially a crowd of people squeezing in to order their drinks.

"Outta the damn way!" Arthur shouted, shoving some random man away from the bar as he finally squeezed in to order drinks. Jack watched the man fall directly onto his face, poor bastard was knocked out cold. Should've moved.

With a shot of whiskey between themselves they begun a several hour long cycle of drinking and dancing. Most of the folks dancing were husband's and wife's. Slow dancing or in some cases spinning in circles like psychos.

With nine shots of whiskey, four beers, and half a bottle of rum Jack was to put it lightly drunk out of his mind. As he downed a tenth shot he briefly remembered his record, the most he's ever drank without getting sick. Ten shots of Scotch, six beers, and a bottle and a half of Bourbon Whiskey.

As he hazily contemplated trying to beat his record he stumbled onto the dance floor, enough people were dancing that nobody would notice him. While Jack was singing to himself in a low frequency, Arthur came up behind him and grabbed his waist. Jack could smell him, and without a care in the world he started to grind onto his partner. Arthur must've been slightly less drunk because he knew Jack shouldn't do that.

"I- gut me a. Imma git me another drink." Arthur slurred, Jack far to lost to really hear him. He swayed to himself for either an hour, or three minutes. Suddenly thinking where's Arthur, he should'a been back by now.

Drunk out of his mind Jack stumbled around, where the hell is Arthur?
"Arthur..?" He mumbled, stumbling up the old wooden stairs to look for him. Wandering around like a lost dog he sluggishly looked around for his fiancé. That name making Jack snort laugh to himself, he feels like a housewife and it's funny.
"Arthur w-where the hell'r ya?" He shouted out loud, "Where's Arthur?" Jack slurred.

A group of prostitutes weren't the gals to ask for help, well at least not when they're having a particularly dry night.

"Why you need some company? Wanna join me upstairs?" One of them asked, playing with her hair. Jack squinted his eyes looking for something unknown.
"No, I like men. Wait a secund Arthur... Men? Woman..? Woo-men? Ah shit I needa find hhihm."

Jack wandered around the saloon for a good while, stopping to ask complete strangers if they've seen Arthur. Obviously they couldn't help as he provided nothing of value on information. After he opened a door and saw a lady's breasts he went back to the table. Luckily Arthur was there already.

"Arty! There you ahr!" Jack smiled, Arthur sat at a table looking at his hands for some inconceivable reason. "Archer sank gewdness, I've been lookin' all over the table fer ya." Jack sat down, knocking over a few empty beer bottles as he did. "Hey, hey," Jack said, focusing his eyes as he placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, "Artisanal am I a pretty gal?"

Arthur looked up hazily seeing Jack, swaying back and fourth without notice.
"You ain't a gal..." Arthur said, a look of concern stretching across his face, "right..?"
"Who?" Jack asked,
"What?" Arthur asked,
"What?"