If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12
___________________________
It was then Arthur appeared at the foot of the stairs like an avenging drunk angel, his hat crooked, his glare lethal. "Leave the kid and the young man alone," Arthur snarled, pointing his finger at them. "You goddamn animals!" he roared, his voice echoing through the saloon.
The first man turned his attention from Caleb to Arthur, his face contorted in disbelief and anger. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to?!" he spat.
Arthur continued his descent, his eyes locked on the two men. He stopped on the last few steps and said, his voice deceptively quiet, "Nobody... I'm talking to nobody..."
The man's face flushed crimson. "What did you say, mister?!" he demanded, taking a menacing step forward.
Arthur, never one to back down from a confrontation, yelled back, "What?!"
"I said, what did you say, mister?!" the man repeated, his fists clenching.
Arthur responded by pointing a finger at the man and saying with a dangerous edge to his voice, "Get lost, buddy!"
The second man, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke up, his voice thick with menace. "Shut up, mister."
The first man nodded in agreement. "Yeah... shut up, mister."
Caleb braced himself. This was it. The prelude to a brawl that turned into a line dance, just like in the game. He tensed, ready to defend his Arthur and Lenny, in case it doesn't go out according to the scenario in the game.
But then, something that he expected and not expected happened at the same time. Instead of throwing punches, the first man suddenly took a step back and began to sway slightly. A strange grin spread across his face. His friend mirrored his expression.
Then, the first man started to lift his legs in a jerky, exaggerated fashion, mimicking some kind of bizarre dance step. His friend followed suit, his movements equally uncoordinated and comical.
A ripple of confusion went through the nearby patrons. What in the world was going on?
And then, it started. Others, caught up in the strange energy of the moment, began to join in. A drunken jig, a spontaneous eruption of bizarre movement, took over a section of the saloon floor. Legs kicked out, arms flailed, and laughter filled the air.
Caleb stared in bewildered amusement. This wasn't a brawl. This was... something else entirely.
And then, he saw him. Mr. Douglas, the usually stoic and perpetually grumpy owner of the saloon, his face surprisingly animated, was also participating in the ridiculous dance just like in the game. He lifted his legs with surprising enthusiasm, a wide, almost manic grin plastered across his face.
Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose, a disbelieving chuckle escaping his lips. "No freakin' way," he muttered. The line dancing scene, the one he thought he had inadvertently prevented, was happening anyway, unfolding in an even more surreal and unexpected manner.
Arthur and Lenny, completely oblivious to the near fight they had instigated, were now enthusiastically joining the impromptu dance, their movements even more exaggerated and off beat than the others. Lenny let out a whoop of pure, unadulterated drunken joy as he nearly tripped over his own feet. Arthur roared with laughter, his booming voice adding to the cacophony.
Caleb simply leaned against the bar, shaking his head and a wide grin spreading across his face. This was better than he could have imagined.
The sheer absurdity of the situation, the way a potential conflict had devolved into this chaotic, hilarious display, was truly something to behold, as the game scene doesn't show the transition but on the line dance.
He watched as the drunken revelry continued, the line dance becoming increasingly intricate and nonsensical. People bumped into each other, stumbled, and erupted in fits of laughter.
The piano player, seemingly unfazed by the sudden shift in the saloon's atmosphere, kept playing his lively ragtime tune, the music somehow perfectly soundtracking the bizarre spectacle.
Caleb took a slow sip of his beer, the amber liquid tasting particularly good in this moment of unexpected levity. He had come here tonight with a plan, a mission to gather information and potentially eliminate a threat. But instead, he was witnessing a scene of pure, unadulterated chaos and drunken camaraderie.
He glanced at Arthur and Lenny, who were now attempting some kind of synchronized kick, their efforts ending in a tangle of limbs and a burst of laughter. They were completely lost in the moment, their worries and the dangers of their outlaw life momentarily forgotten in the haze of alcohol and the absurdity of the dance.
A strange sense of warmth spread through Caleb. Despite the inherent danger of their situation, there were moments like these, fleeting glimpses of joy and camaraderie, that bound them together. Moments that reminded them of their shared humanity, even in the midst of violence and desperation.
He knew that the night was far from over. Arthur was still intent on breaking Micah Bell out of jail, a decision that could have serious consequences. And Caleb still had to decide what decision he would made.
But for now, he allowed himself to simply enjoy the spectacle, the unexpected twist in the familiar narrative. The world of Red Dead Redemption 2, it seemed, still had the capacity to surprise him, even in the most familiar of scenes.
The revelry died down slowly, like embers cooling after a blaze. One by one, the dancers staggered back to their seats or leaned against nearby furniture, catching their breath amid drunken chuckles and flushed cheeks.
Even Arthur and Lenny, red faced and winded from their chaotic footwork, began to show signs of winding down though not entirely.
"Another round!" Arthur bellowed, swaying slightly but his enthusiasm undimmed. Lenny echoed his sentiment with a cheerful, if somewhat slurred, "Yeah! Another one!"
"I wanted to drink a beer," Lenny continued breathlessly, raising a hand toward the bar like a sailor saluting a distant lighthouse.
Arthur let out a hiccuping laugh, nearly tripping over a chair. "Whiskey for me," he slurred, making a half hearted attempt to head back in the direction of the bartender.
Caleb intercepted them with the practiced ease of a man who'd wrangled drunk friends before. "Alright, you two," he said, wedging himself between them and the bar. "That's enough drinking for one night. Trust me."
Arthur blinked at him, swaying slightly. "What're you talkin' about, Caleb? We're just gettin' started!"
Lenny, leaning heavily on Arthur, chimed in with a pleading whine. "C'mon, Caleb... just one more... hiccup... for the road..."
"Exactly why it needs to end Arthur, and co can do, Lenny." Caleb said, half chuckling, half serious. "I've seen how that story ends, and it ain't pretty. Next thing you know, one of you's passed out in a pigpen and the other is missing his boots."
Lenny frowned, then shrugged. "Well, that... Sounds about right…"
Arthur muttered something unintelligible and looked away, either embarrassed or too far gone to argue.
Caleb turned to the bar and waved over Mr. Douglas, the still giddy saloon owner who was wiping down a glass, looking as if he'd just remembered what fun felt like after years of grumpiness.
He then caught Mr. Douglas's eye and, with a polite nod, said, "Mr. Douglas, could you please put their tab under the name of… Mr. Tacitus Kilgore?" He gestured towards Arthur with a wry smile.
Mr. Douglas, after a moment of processing, simply nodded, "Tacitus Kilgore," he repeated, making a note on a piece of paper. "Right."
"Thank you, mister," Caleb said, offering a small, genuine smile.
He then turned back to his two increasingly disgruntled companions. "Come on, you two. Let's get you somewhere you can sleep it off."
Guiding Arthur and Lenny out of the saloon proved to be a task in itself, less like escorting and more like corralling a pair of oversized toddlers. Lenny was mostly pliable, albeit prone to sudden bursts of drunken singing and declarations of undying friendship towards a nearby lamppost.
Arthur, however, was a more significant challenge. His jovial mood had taken a stubborn turn, and he insisted that he was perfectly capable of having "just one more little drink."
Despite the flailing and staggering, the protest and clumsy resistance, Caleb managed to shepherd them across the street to the hotel. The clerk, a lanky young man with a bored expression, looked up from his ledger as they entered.
XOne room. One night. Two people," Caleb said, reaching into his pocket and handing over a dollar.
The clerk raised an eyebrow at the condition of the pair behind him, but said nothing. He simply handed over a key and gestured toward the stairs.
"Second floor. Third door on the left."
Caleb nodded his thanks and began the exhausting task of hauling the pair up the narrow staircase. Getting Arthur and Lenny upstairs was an ordeal worthy of Greek myth.
Lenny was bit easier, even with him kept giggling and the awkward way he leaned against Caleb's left side his weight manageable enough not to aggravate Caleb's healing injury too much, but Arthur was a different story.
His larger frame built like a brick wall and surprising bursts of drunken energy made him a wobbly, unpredictable load. Caleb had to use every ounce of strength he had to keep Arthur upright, muttering under his breath about needing two days of recovery after this.
After several bumped elbows, nearly falling backward once, and Arthur loudly complaining about the stairs being "too steep for civilized folk," they reached the room.
By the time Caleb brought them inside, he was sweating and out of breath. He helped both of them to the bed, Lenny flopped like a sack of potatoes, snoring almost immediately, while Arthur mumbled something about Micah and a bucket of stew before drifting off with a dramatic sigh.
Caleb found a scrap of paper from Arthur's satchel and quickly scrawled a note:
Brought you both here. One night stay, already paid. My room is down the hall.
— Caleb
He left it on the table and gave the room one last glance, ensuring they weren't about to choke on their own tongues or stumble back into the hallway. Satisfied, he gently closed the door behind him and trudged down the hallway to his own room.
The second he entered, he kicked the door closed, collapsed onto the bed, and didn't even bother to take off his boots.
His shoulders ached, his arms throbbed, and the dull throb in his left shoulder, aggravated from Lenny's weight, throbbed like a warning drum. But despite the pain, Caleb couldn't help the smile that spread across his lips.
"Worth it," he thought.
Sleep claimed him in seconds.
The next morning arrived rudely, courtesy of loud, persistent knocking.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Caleb! You alive in there?" Arthur's voice carried through the door.
Caleb groaned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, the dream he'd been having about winning a poker tournament in Saint Denis and win 1000 dollars evaporating like mist.
He sat up, boots still on, and shuffled over to the door, dragging himself upright, wincing at the protest from every muscle.
When he opened it, Arthur's squinting, hungover face filled the doorway. Lenny stood beside him, rubbing his temples like he was trying to press the headache out through his skull.
"Ugh, Good mornin, Caleb," Arthur groaned, his voice thick with the residue of beer and whiskey.
"Morning, Caleb." Lenny offered a weak, shaky smile.
"Two of you look like death's left boot," Caleb said with a smirk.
Arthur chuckled dryly, holding his forehead. "Feels like it too."
Lenny groaned beside him. "I think I swallowed a tumbleweed."
Caleb chuckled, stepped aside, and motioned for the two of them to come in. They did, gingerly, each moving like their bones were made of glass. "Thanks," Arthur muttered after sitting on the edge of the bed. "For… you know. Last night. Didn't expect to wake up in a bed, much less with boots still on and no black eye."
________________________________
Name:Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 6/10
- Agility: 6/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 6/10
- Charm: 5/10
- Luck: 5/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 2)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 1)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 1)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 2)
- Poker (Lvl 1)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
Money: 664 dollars and 61 cents
Bank: 40 dollars, 2 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets