Strangers By Nature | Red Dead Redemption II |

Chapter Five: Thawed Out

April 13th, 1899,

Snow's finally starting to melt, I can say this is hardly the spring I had hoped for. But being with Arthur's made it bearable.

Speaking of Arthur, I'm not sure how. I'm not sure why, but yesterday he confirmed it. We're in a relationship! Well, the closest we can get to one anyway. And it's just us, not like I can go around holding his hand. Bound to get shot if I do.

Been thinking a lot about Stephanie as of late, I wonder if she would've accepted me. I think she would've, these younger generations are more accepting right? That's where the world's heading I hope. Women are working up steam to get voting rights. Maybe us queers should ask for rights too?

Arthur's gathering the supplies he's acquired. I was confused about how he had anything until I watched him load my pistol into a holster. He must've taken the stuff off of poor Blue. She was a good horse, makes me sad but a tree collapsed on her hut. Guess the trees couldn't take the weight from the snow.

"Peter?" Arthur asked, the boy looked up to him from his seated position underneath a tree. Peter was expecting him to put a hand out but Arthur's definitely not well-mannered. Which is something he likes about him, no sugar coating. He's what you get.
"Where are we goin'?" The younger man asked as he stumbled to his feet. Stuffing his journal into his satchel.
"Valentine."

Peter's never been to Valentine. He grew up around Emerald Ranch, and he spent most of his time with the O'Driscoll's shoveling horse shit and foraging for certain mushrooms, berries, and herbs. He's always had a good eye for such a thing.

Foraging and how to use a gun were the only things the O'Driscoll's ever taught him. Otherwise, he was nothing but a worker, but a worker without pay is a slave.

The snow was still falling, faintly. The powder had gone from waist-deep to ankle. Easy enough to walk though anyway, no matter how much of a pain it is. So they walked, heading through the snow towards somewhere warm.

"So. We'll be walkin' for a while. I wanna know more about you." Peter said, Arthur tensed internally.
"Yeah me too."
"You ever been married? Engaged?"
"Back when I was still young. Younger than you. I met a gal named Mary." Arthur paused, lighting a cigarette.
"What happened?" Peter inquired,
"Guess she didn't love me 'nough."

To say Arthur was hurt by Mary's leaving would be an understatement. He loved her more than himself, he thought they'd have children together. That he'd raise a family with her. Have kids. A real purpose.
"Then she's a fool," Peter said,
"She put in a good couple a' years on an outlaw. So yes, she is a fool."

As Peter was about to say something however they heard it, a howl. Wolves. Scurrying footsteps coming out of the trees, "Behind me now!" Arthur demanded, whipping out a pistol. Four wolves jumped out from the snow-covered trees, circling the two. Hungry and rabid looks in their eyes.

Arthur didn't waste any time, firing fast and effectively. One shot hit the dog's head, the other hit another, then another. But the last wolf had switched its focus onto Peter, whom it attempted to approach.

Peter took notice, arming himself with his knife as the animal jumped at him. Unfortunately for the wolf, it didn't have the foresight to see the knife it jumped onto. The blade pierced the fur, the animal squealing before falling limp.
"Little bastard!" Peter shouted, damn wolves.
"You're pretty good with that knife," Arthur said.
"Thanks. You're a good shot."

The rest of the trip was peaceful, just walking and talking about whatever nonsense they could come up with to pass the time. Mostly stupid stories that they had from various times in their lives. Like the one where Arthur got so drunk he pissed behind a bar. Inside.

Valentine was about as country as it gets. Muddy and smelt of horse shit. However, it undeniably had some charm as well.
"Clothes. Then guns. Then hair." Arthur said, walking up to the general store.
"We don't even have any cash," Peter replies,
"That won't be an issue," Arthur pulled up a bandanna from his bag; Putting on the covering he tossed Peter a sack to put on his head. Why he had two masks at the ready was an enigma. "Stay back." Arthur then kicked open the door to the store. Pointing his gun at the man tending the shop,
"Give me what's in that there register and I won't shoot you." The shop owner threw his hands in the air in a panic.

Peter stood back, watching intently as he took a few items. Crackers, Cigarettes, and Whiskey.
"Alright alright! Just don't shoot!" The shopkeeper stuttered, opening the register and taking out the money. Piling the bills onto the counter shakily. As he finished setting the pile of cash out Arthur hit him on the head, knocking him out cold. Notably, keeping him alive.
"Thought you were gonna kill him," Peter mumbled, wandering up and gathering the money.
"What kind of animal do you take me for?" Arthur said, looking over Peter's shoulder as the brunette counted the money.
"There's about $620 here."
"Not a bad cut," Arthur replied.

Now with some cash, the two looked into the clothing stock of the shop. There was everything you could want, enough to look different anyway. Arthur usually looks pretty rugged and doesn't wear clothing to look good. He wears clothing for practical purposes. However, changing that would probably make him less noticeable. After all the last thing people would expect from an outlaw such as himself is some nice clothes.

Arthur changed into a dress shirt with a nice vest, something a proper man in Saint Denis would wear. Peter grabbed a similar style, just in different colors and fabrics.
"Well, I certainly look like an idiot," Arthur said, buttoning his vest.
"A handsome idiot."
"Thanks." Now with new clothing, they'd head over to the gunsmith, and grab some good firepower. Enough to survive anyhow. Lord knows they're gonna get shot at eventually, they always do for some reason.

They wandered in a bought some new gun belts first, giving them actual room to store and hold such weaponry. Holsters upon holsters made their lives much easier as they were now free to gather whatever guns they wanted.

Peter grabbed his usual, well weaponry he's most comfortable using at least. A Schofield revolver, a semiautomatic pistol, and a bow to tie everything off. He's never been one to go in guns a' blazing. He goes in soft and quiet, taking down folks with precision and not abandon. Which a bow will help with most certainly.

And with a pump-action shotgun too, along with a bolt-action rifle; Peter was set to take down an army. Arthur grabbed various guns. Volcanic Pistols and an extra holster so he could duel-wield them at once. A double-barreled shotgun and a Lancaster Repeater as well.
"Are those pistols really that good?" Peter asked as they left the shop, Arthur spun one pistol on his finger.
"Yeah, got a lot of firepower in 'em."

They crossed the muddy street, wandering into the saloon so they could utilize the barber tucked away under the staircase. A rather strange location for a barber but it was useful nonetheless.

Arthur changed his hairstyle substantially, now his hair was pushed back. His beard was stubble with a pencil-thin mustache, he looked good. Kind of Italian. Peter shaved his face bare, no more stubble. And changed his center part to have his hair hang down in his face.

They looked different, almost unrecognizable from a distance.
"I like the mustache, makes you look sexy," Peter mumbled as they wandered back out through the back door.
"Keep talkin' like that," Arthur replied with a smirk.

All it took was new horses and they were new men, heading out of town finally feeling like free men once more.