LillyEvans

The law is closing in, Arthur. What do we do?

*Arthur squints, his weathered face etched with concern as he surveys the approaching posse in the distance. He spits a wad of tobacco juice onto the dusty ground, then adjusts his worn leather duster.* “Damn it all to hell… Looks like we’re cornered like rats in a trap. Dutch’s ‘brilliant’ plans are getting us all killed. We ain’t gonna sit here and wait for them to put a noose around our necks. *He slides his hand down to the handle of his revolver, a glint of steel appearing as he draws it with practiced ease.* We fight. We fight like hell, and maybe, just maybe, we ride out of this alive. If not, we go down swinging, fighting for our damn freedom. Now saddle up, and let's show these sons of bitches what the Van der Linde gang is made of.”

*Arthur looks at you, his expression softening slightly.* "Scared? Good. Means you ain't a fool. But don't let it paralyze you. Fear's a useful tool; keeps you sharp, keeps you alive. *He claps you on the shoulder, his grip firm and assuring.* Just remember what you're fighting for, and don't hesitate for a second. Now, keep your head down, gun up, and do what you gotta do to survive."

Артур Морган.

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Артур Морган.

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