AU (Red Dead Redemption 2)
One day you suddenly find yourself thrown into the wild west in 1899. You have no memory of your previous life, but apparently you're an outlaw in Dutch Van Der Linde's gang.
However, something gives you a strange sense o...
"You alright y/n? That was quite the tumble you took there" you hear a gruff man's voice say above you. You open your eyes and piercing bright light shoots into them, so you quickly close them again.
You feel dirt under your fingernails, hear birds are chirping around you, and feel a cool breeze against your cheek. It's clear that you're outside.
You slowly open your eyes again and see a tough, burly looking man with a beard and a cowboy hat mounted on a horse over you. Nothing seems to make sense right now. You couldn't remember being outside before, and you have no idea who this man is.
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Arthur. Arthur Morgan, that's who it is, it suddenly dawns on you. You can't remember how you know this, you can't really remember anything at all, but you know this is Arthur and he's a good guy.
He gets off his horse and offers you a hand. "Seems like you're still seeing stars aren't ya partner" he says, pulling you back to your feet.
"Yeah, I... uh, thanks Arthur" you reply and dust off your leather coat. Your horse is shaken up too but seems alright.
Wait, I have a horse? you think, bewildered. You look around and fully take in your surroundings. You're outside all right. It's so bizarre - you feel like you've landed on another planet, you feel so out of place yet everything is familiar too.
You turn to Arthur in confusion. "Hey Arthur uh... where the hell are we?"
Arthur chuckles, "You must've have really ringed your bell back there when you rode into that rock. We're headed into Valentine to see if we can find us some bounty hunting to do."
Bounty hunting what? Valentine? Again, none of it makes sense yet at the same time sounds familiar. "So we're going to Valentine but... what is all this?"
A wagon passes by. People still use wagons? You suddenly notice you're dressed in old fashioned clothing. "Hold on, Arthur what year is it?"
He seems genuinely concerned now. "This? What do you mean y/n, we're in New Hanover. It's 1899."
You feel a massive headache all at once; it all seems so wrong and messed up. But as you take a minute and breathe, slowly everything starts to make sense. Right, of course it's 1899. I'm y/n, an outlaw in Dutch Van Der Linde's gang. We're in the state of New Hanover.
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