RDR's Literatures
this some angsty ass emo ass the one that got away ass shit bro
this is literally just me stringing stuff together. this is a few years old but its probably the most rounded version and most to the point
"You the one who's been causin' all this panic?" Al's voice felt thick in his throat that it didn't sound like his own. It sounded so tired, so devastated.
Bo pondered his answer, cocked his head, and let his gun fall to his side. The bags on his shoulders shifted and he huffed in an attempt to laugh. "...Yeah."
Aster could make out a little triangle of stars - a constellation that his people had named The Looking Glass - and he knew everyone he had ever known was somewhere past it. Like the North star on Earth, this little triangle served purpose as a guiding light to his people. Seeing it made being in the WF a little less sad, made the cowboy a little less homesick.
Aster was a troublemaker - not causing harm, - more so causing a stir of static in the air. A little twister of energy and quick movements.
His torso hurt, his head hurt, and worse of all his pride. His horns were gone; and for what? Nothing. Aster raised his hand to touch where the stumps were, making a sound of defeat.
He was but a boy of 15-- hardly into his teen years, but he was alone, and all of his decisions affected him. I have to be, it rang through his mind more times than he'd like to admit. He looked once more at the boy in the mirror's reflection and steeled himself, setting his jaw and wiping his wet eyes with the back of his clothed hand.
bull wants to ask his boss if he can help, if he can make those thoughts go away, make emerson forget about the inquisition, if only for an hour or two. something more than just sitting and talking for a spell. something that’d leave a mark and make him think back to the time they had just hours before. but bull doesn't know if emerson would be okay with that.