04-20-2019, 12:18 AM
BY ONLY A FLICKER, WE CLING TO THIS LIFE
AMELIA MORGAN — ASPIRING OUTLAW
A visible flinch can be seen in both her and Bill. Bill lowers his gun, strapping it to his back. He mumbles something about having caution about how to trust. He glares at Hosea, his chin lifted up a bit, as if he was confident. He walks behind a bit, waiting for this to be over with.
He stops, eyes wide as that name seemed to roll so smoothly off of her tongue. He looks around and notice the other outlaws. Pearson stops cutting the meat, his knife clinking against the board. Sadie nearly drops her box.
An embarresed look immediately crosses her face. She had to admit, like her father, if given the chance she would gladly go on train tracks and wait for the next one. Half of her hoped the gang knew, and the other half feels like an idiot for introducing herself in such a manner. She would apologize later.
They were mostly staring at her father. Arthur, was his name, she thought. If she remembered correctly. When they leave the two to their own vices, she tries to smile at him. She tries to think, of something-- anything that would him not lookike the devil just sucker punched him. "Are you a Mister Arthur Morgan?" She waves, a bit shyly. She did not think that this was how it was gonna go. When he says her name -- what she wants to be her name, at least -- she nods, blue eyes holding tiny bits of hope.
"Gillis?" That question caused her to visibly cringe, as if she heard something disgusting escape his mouth. "By blood. I hate that name." That is what she settles on. Hell, being a Linton would be better. Not that disgusting name. Ever again.
"Amelia? Sweetheart, don't look like that. Nothing happened. Nothing at all." That voice plays in her head as she looks at Arthur. She doesn't see his brown hair, his blue eyes. What she does see is a pale man, his eyes unfocused, his face holding the expression of the worst news. She tries to choke something out, but no words form. Blood rushes to her ears, her eyes widen and she tries to take in everything. Now she looked as if she'd seen a ghost. Why?
Arthur looked ready to hurt her. His friend, too. Which was exactly why she tried to find him, find someone who wouldn't do that. She shuts her eyes, tightly, and runs into the crowd of outlaws. That's when she opens her eyes, and sees Dutch. She bolts towards him, trying to cling to his clothes like a puppy dog. She shuts her eyes once more, whether she managed to cling to him or not. She didn't want more bruises... she didn't want... Her breathing speed up, and she sinks further, trying to make herself look less noticeable. "Oh God... oh God oh God... He's gonna... gonna hurt me." She manages to get words out, her eyes shutting more, if it was possible. If she did grip onto Dutch, she would try to grip tighter.
He stops, eyes wide as that name seemed to roll so smoothly off of her tongue. He looks around and notice the other outlaws. Pearson stops cutting the meat, his knife clinking against the board. Sadie nearly drops her box.
An embarresed look immediately crosses her face. She had to admit, like her father, if given the chance she would gladly go on train tracks and wait for the next one. Half of her hoped the gang knew, and the other half feels like an idiot for introducing herself in such a manner. She would apologize later.
They were mostly staring at her father. Arthur, was his name, she thought. If she remembered correctly. When they leave the two to their own vices, she tries to smile at him. She tries to think, of something-- anything that would him not lookike the devil just sucker punched him. "Are you a Mister Arthur Morgan?" She waves, a bit shyly. She did not think that this was how it was gonna go. When he says her name -- what she wants to be her name, at least -- she nods, blue eyes holding tiny bits of hope.
"Gillis?" That question caused her to visibly cringe, as if she heard something disgusting escape his mouth. "By blood. I hate that name." That is what she settles on. Hell, being a Linton would be better. Not that disgusting name. Ever again.
"Amelia? Sweetheart, don't look like that. Nothing happened. Nothing at all." That voice plays in her head as she looks at Arthur. She doesn't see his brown hair, his blue eyes. What she does see is a pale man, his eyes unfocused, his face holding the expression of the worst news. She tries to choke something out, but no words form. Blood rushes to her ears, her eyes widen and she tries to take in everything. Now she looked as if she'd seen a ghost. Why?
Arthur looked ready to hurt her. His friend, too. Which was exactly why she tried to find him, find someone who wouldn't do that. She shuts her eyes, tightly, and runs into the crowd of outlaws. That's when she opens her eyes, and sees Dutch. She bolts towards him, trying to cling to his clothes like a puppy dog. She shuts her eyes once more, whether she managed to cling to him or not. She didn't want more bruises... she didn't want... Her breathing speed up, and she sinks further, trying to make herself look less noticeable. "Oh God... oh God oh God... He's gonna... gonna hurt me." She manages to get words out, her eyes shutting more, if it was possible. If she did grip onto Dutch, she would try to grip tighter.