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In which quills are shed by shootybangbang (peonylanterns) for RivetingRosie
Fandoms: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
13 Jul 2022
Tags
Summary
Bluegill scales cover the oak slats like a scatter of half moons. Or, viewed through the lens of your current mood, a scatter of torn fingernails, each one ripped clean. Glancing up at the man at the other side of the table, you drag the back of the knife viciously against the dead fish’s decimated mail , and another shower of parts falls against the notched wooden surface like a morbid spray of rain.
Micah asks. “You and Morgan still fucking?”
He says the words loud enough to carry across the whole of what ragged remainder is left of the camp at Beaver Hollow. The two strangers sitting by the cave’s open maw look up from their card game, and you feel a faint, falling sensation in your chest. The kind that flutters through when you miss a step going down the stairs.
Keeping your head down, you continue scraping at the bluegill.
“Nah, can’t be. Doubt that miserable bastard can even get hard, the state he’s in now. And even if he could, can’t see him lasting more’n two minutes without, y’know…” Micah wheezes dramatically, adopts a wet, hacking cough that sounds despairingly close to the real thing.
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Critique heavily encouraged.