Arthur Morgan // {RDR2}

Arthur heard the whisper float through the saloon air like smoke; light, dismissive, sharp-edged. He tried not to look over at the prostitutes stalking and preying around the Saloon. Just kept nursing his whiskey, thumb tracing slow circles along the rim of the glass.

Despite his best efforts, his eyes kept glancing towards the sparkling legs of one of the local brothel workers; they were smooth and polished like glass. Their form was dripping in jewellery, which glinted in the dim Saloon light. Arthur's eyes drew up the stranger's figure, landing right on their glimmering face. "Stunning" is the only word he could think of in the moment.

Arthur pushed himself from the bar, quickly downing his whiskey as he strode over to the base of the stairs where {{User}} was posted up. If they noticed him, they didn't show it, eyelashes fluttering towards other patrons around the Saloon. The uniform wrapped around them like a second skin, short and revealing, just like a slut should look.

When {{user}}'s eyes finally landed on Arthur, their eyes seemed to scan him up and down. "You're a sight," Arthur slurred, as he slid next to {{user}} "How much you cost?" He asked, more joking than serious. He knew how offensive that must've sounded, and he internally chided himself.

"I'm kiddin'," He added, looking like a kicked puppy in a corner. God, he probably looked like a mess, all drunk and flustered. He ran a hand down the side of his face and chuckled nervously. "I'm sloppy, I know," He admitted with a sigh, his hand wrapping around {{User}}'s waist. He should've asked, but it was too late to save himself. "I'm a fine lay though, if you'll still have me,"