Hello everyone! Today, something a little different —
I’ve recently been introduced to RedM, a modded version of a game called Red Dead Redemption 2. If you’re completely unfamiliar, the game is set in the wild west, with all the cowboy/outlaw themes you could hope for. With RedM specifically, I ended up joining a server called Dakota River Bend, which is a casual roleplay server set in the fictional “New Dakota” with a lot of fun stuff to dig into.
For whatever reason, I’ve taken to DRB quite heavily the past two weeks, squeezing in time to play whenever I wasn’t busy with writing or other responsibilities.
And, as is my nature, I went a bit overboard with making a character and getting into the roleplay aspect of things. I’ll post her backstory at some point, but for this free release I thought I’d share with you all a somewhat serious somewhat humorous excerpt that I wrote for my character — completely inspired by events that happened organically in my time playing so far.
Like I’ve talked about many times before, writing books is not the only way to satisfy a need to be creative, and taking part in activities that make you excited about characters and stories can be really interesting and inspirational for your other projects to! So, without any further ado —
Holly O’Connor didn’t want trouble. She didn’t make a point of inviting it if she could help it. Only two weeks into her new life in New Dakota, though, she was beginning to suspect that trouble was on its way to find her instead.
The first incident had happened only hours after she’d gotten off the train and arrived in New Dakota with nothing but the clothes on her back and the lint in her pockets. In the company of a friend she’d made on the train ride over, she’d begun taking delivery jobs that took her all over the county. Good way to get the lay of the land, she thought, and good money in it too.
Halfway on a journey from Annesburg down to Tumbleweed — a journey that would take her from corner to corner of the map she’d been provided — a lone rider had come around a bend and accidentally ran right into her. After the dust settled and they confirmed they were both alright, he’d given her a second look-over, taking in her and her attire. His eyes lingered on the flatcap she wore, and he took on an odd tone, asking, “You wouldn’t happen to be a Weasel, by chance…?”
To which she’d answered the truth – she’d only just gotten here. She had no idea what he was talking about. He seemed dissatisfied with her response but took it into stride. He explained that they were the only group in the county with the same sort of origins as her. If he meant Irish, he didn’t say. If by “group” he meant outlaws… he’d left it up to interpretation, though the suggestion that she seek them out when she got the chance was quite direct.
She brushed the oddities of the encounter off soon after it had happened. But not for long.
The second incident was only hours later, if far smaller. Her new friend had been suffering a migraine, and Holly had pulled her cart off to the side of the road to wait for her friend to feel better again. In that time, two riders had come by. Lawmen, by the looks of them. “--noticed the flatcap,” she heard just as they’d come into range of her. They asked her if she was alright, and she explained the situation. They seemed to accept this and move on, wishing her well. Still, she had to wonder if they too had mistaken her as being one of these “weasels”.
The third (and technically fourth) incidents were by far the most prolonged, though. As Holly had come riding into Blackwater, she’d been rather happy with her work for the day. She’d gone on a successful hunting trip and had caught and trained several wild horses that were about to fetch her quite the payout. She’d even done some panning and had a few nuggets of gold to her name!
Once she’d sold the horses, she made immediately for the bank. There were rough folk about, after all. Didn’t make sense to carry so much money on hand.
As she’d ridden up towards the bank, she heard someone begin yelling, and saw three men behind her, coming her way. Lawmen, it seemed. Whoever was shouting was saying someone’s name, she thought. She couldn’t make it out, but it didn’t sound like it was directed at her. It was only as she reached the bank, slipped off of her horse’s back, and made her way up to the window that she caught what the man was chiding his target about. No longarms in town, he was reminding them sternly. It was the law in New Dakota
It was about that time that she remembered the scoped carcano rifle still slung over one shoulder from her hunting trip earlier. It was also about that time that one of the men in blue entered the bank with her, silently standing at the window next to her. She paused her transaction to slip the rifle off her shoulder without a word, and he made no acknowledgement of it either way. After finishing stowing her money and goods, she walked past him to get back outside, where she found the other two lawmen standing on either side of the door. Her chest tightened, but she kept her eyes forward and made a beeline for Johanna.
They issued their howdy’s as she passed and she returned a soft hullo in response.
"I like your hat, miss," one said as she clambered onto Johanna's back. "It suits you." Not a word was said about the now-stowed carcano, not even acknowledgement. She didn't bring it up either. She thanked him and left quickly.
Maybe it was nothing, she reasoned. Maybe he did just like her flatcap. Still, she itched anxiously at her arm, and went on her way.
Perhaps the worst part was that she still had business in town. She stopped by the markets – she’d never been and wanted to see what they had and for what prices – and then made a second stop at the tailor’s to see if they had anything she wanted. Nothing in particular stood out to her, so she finally made her way out of town.
This process took her past the bank several more times, and the three lawmen seemed to still be there each time. She tried not to look suspicious, reminding herself that other than forgetting the longarm, she hadn’t actually done anything wrong.
They think you’re casing the bank, her thoughts prodded at her. You walked in with a gun, and you now keep passing by them. They definitely think you’re a “Weasel” casing that bank. Two weeks into her time in New Dakota, she still wasn’t even sure what or who the Weasels were, at least not past anything the first man had told her.
At long last, she finally left town, heading East. She figured she’d go collect and train some more wild horses, so when she saw a herd not too far out of Blackwater, she stopped and prepped herself to tame them. No sooner than she’d jumped off of Johanna’s back, a rider blazed through the area heading towards Blackwater, and the herd bolted.
Disappointed, but determined, she prepped herself to follow after them. They couldn’t have gone far, after all. She turned to get back on Johanna, only to see a different rider, this one from Blackwater, galloping straight for her. He swung around to a stop, nearly colliding with her if she hadn’t backed away.
“Howdy”, he’d said, and she again responded with a “Hullo”, and apologized for her initial bewilderment, just saying that he’d come up on her pretty quick. His horse was a fast one, he said, and Holly had to wonder if the implication was that she wouldn’t be able to outrun it.
“What are you doing here”, he asked flatly. She was fairly certain he was one of the lawmen that had been at the bank but couldn’t be positive. Her eyes were poor, and anyway she’d been so focused on getting back to Johanna that she hadn’t gotten a good look at any of them. Minus the carcano, she reminded herself, you haven’t done anything wrong. Somehow, it didn’t feel like it.
“I was about to tame some horses and bring them to a horse fence,” she explained, pointing in the direction the herd had been only to remember that right, yeah, the herd had run off. Just her luck that they were nowhere in sight either.
“...Where?” He asked.
“...They just ran off.”
He definitely thinks you’re lying.
“Did I scare them away?”
“No, no. Someone came through right before you did, that’s when they ran off.”
Why did the truth have to sound so suspicious? She’d almost have been better off just telling a lie!
Still, he seemed to accept her answer, claiming that he’d seen another herd of horses just over the hill here. When she looked, she didn’t see them, and he said that she wouldn’t be able to see them from where she was – that she needed to follow him.
She hopped back onto Johanna and took out her binoculars, but even following him she didn’t see any horses where he was indicating.
He’s trying to be helpful, Reason whispered in one ear. He probably thinks he did scare off the last herd, and just feels bad.
He’s checking your story, whispered Paranoia in the other. He thinks you were up to something, but he doesn’t have enough to prove it.
She was beginning to wonder if she’d be less anxious if she was actually guilty.
At last, he spotted another herd and directed her towards it. She thanked him and he carried on his way, though she was fairly certain she saw him making his way back where he’d come, as though he’d come out to specifically question her. She tried not to stare, tried not to watch where he’d gone. That would be more suspicious, wouldn’t it?
She sent Johanna away and tamed the horses quickly, bringing them to the horse fence and paying for their papers. When she whistled for Johanna, though, she didn’t come.
She was hurt again, somehow, and must have gone back to the stables to wait for her. Lamenting her beloved horse’s accident-prone nature, she made her way on foot back to the Blackwater stables.
Treatment was thankfully cheap – just a dollar to get Johanna back in shape. She reached for her money, only to remember that ah. Right… she’d just spent all the money she was carrying on wild horses. In fact, she was technically six dollars in debt.
…and would have to go back to the bank.
Congratulations, she thought to herself as she trudged out of the stables and made her way onto the street, heading back into town yet again. You are officially the most suspicious-looking innocent woman in New Dakota.