meds4sale | Open Post

"You as well," he replied. "Until next we meet."

His gaze lingered just a little longer on the man, the way he hadn't let it when they first met.

The Medicine Seller was intimately familiar with death and disease, but that didn't make it any less painful to watch Arthur pack up to go meet his end.

He gave Edelweiss one last parting pet to her muzzle.

"Look after him, please," he whispered to the horse, before pressing on up the hill.

They both had work to do, after all. The world spun on.

Arthur rode on back to camp, drinking the strange but delicious peach flavored alcohol which might have been better ingested with a spoon with how thick it was. But he downed it and felt better for it, by placebo or because the medicine seller actually knew what he was doing.

The rest of the day was one more event after the other. The train, the loss of John, the loss of Abigail, finding one and then riding back to camp after dealing with Milton, thinking of all the folk he'd helped, and the medicine seller himself too. John back from the dead to fight alongside him against Micah and Dutch, climbing through the caves with him to escape the Pinkertons, then riding hard to continue to run.

Edelweiss falling, having carried him so far for so long, but he had no time to mourn her with the law on their tails. They climbed, and climbed, climbed until he couldn't anymore.

He gave the man his brother his hat, his satchel, and would give his life to ensure the bastards stayed on him while the younger escaped.

Micah. He wanted so bad to tear into him for the longest time, and he got his chance, fists choking, falling-

Dutch...Oh Dutch...

But John got away. He got away, and would be able to live.

Micah and Dutch left him...left him to die, and watch the sunrise...

Winters were hard up in the East Grizzlies, but there was a warm looking cabin by a half frozen lake with smoke billowing from the chimney. Out back with a blanket over his peachy gold coat to keep the cold off him was a beautiful older stallion, enjoying a meal of fresh hay. His ears perked and he nickered at the sight of the medicine seller.

A knock upon the door revealed no one home, but they clearly hadn't been gone long as there was a fire going and there were vegetables, herbs, and spices laid out on the table with a pot of water just starting to come to a boil.

A familiar scent also lingered in the cabin.

The Medicine Seller was well suited for winter in rocky regions. He had been born to the mountains of Hokkaido, and felt perfectly at home in the biting frosts and billowing snowfalls out here.

For now, the day was clear, with only a few inches of snow crunching beneath his feet, and a couple of salmon handing from his pack. He'd seen the plume of smoke from where he'd been fishing and had heard there was a veteran out here of a decent nature, offering work and pay. Perhaps he'd be willing to share some of the Medicine Seller's catch and would let him stay the night for some medicine. Veterans, after all, always had some wound or another still giving them trouble.

After politely greeting the horse, he knocked once, twice, three times on the cabin door, and frowned. His nostrils were thick with the scent of bear and...

No, that was impossible.

He pushed aside any wishful thinking and peered in through a window. Someone had definitely been in recently. Food laid out for cooking, the horse freshly fed...

But death came quickly and even those who had been young during the war were starting to reach the ages where the heart could just give out. This man had not been described as particularly young.

He peered inside each window, making sure he couldn't see any signs of a collapsed body, while occasionally calling out. When he spotted fresh tracks leading off to the woods, he breathed a small sigh of relief. He came back around to the front, setting his box down by the door and using it as a makeshift seat to await the owner's return while stuffing his pipe with tobacco and lighting it to take a bit of the edge off the chill.

The horse out back grew restless with the smell of the stranger nearby, drawing back the occupant of the cabin within a few moments.

"What's wrong old boy?" Arthur asked, giving the stallion's neck a few pats "Found somethin' for the pot-ah ah ah not for you!" he grunted, pulling the wild garlic out of the horse's reach. He scratched his forelock before heading around, pausing at the sight of the familiar man sitting on his box.

Arthur looked quite different compared to when the medicine seller saw him last. No longer pale with sickness, his eyes no longer bloodshot and exhausted. Still had some weight to put back on but otherwise not so bad. He'd grown a goatee to hide his chin scars and his hair was shoulder length. He wore only a blue union suit, boots, and suspenders, not so much as a gun or knife on him, or even a hat for that matter.

He swallowed thickly, "K-Kusuriuri?" he breathed, his breath blowing warm in the chilly air and no hint of wheeze or labored breath.

He very nearly dropped his pipe.

How?!

He stared at Arthur, completely at a loss for words; clearly this was not who he was expecting to see.

He then gave the bowl of his pipe a sniff. Tobacco. Normal tobacco.

He checked his little bag of tobacco too, just in case some mushrooms got mixed in.

No, this wasn't an accidental illusion or some kind of hallucination.

Getting to his feet, he cleared the distance between him and Arthur in a few swift strides.

"You were dying."

He had smelled death on him, Arthur had days at most, less if he strained himself.

"The wine - it could not have. It would need at least another century before -"

He cut himself off, and shook his head.

"It is you, is it not? I have not gone mad?"

Arthur's smile broadened as the man stepped closer to him, that crooked smile broad as ever as he looked down at the man who seemed to have seen a ghost, though he must have seen many in his years.

He let him sputter a moment or two, then closed the distance further with a firm, deep kiss, pulling the slighter man to him and embracing him as he buried his face against his neck.

"You smell so good darlin', yea its me, its me..." he said, pulling back enough to look at him. "But come inside, its damned cold out." he said, leading the way into the warm cabin that smelled strongly of Arthur, and bear, though there didn't seem so much as a pelt in the place.

He had seen more ghosts in the last month than most people see in their entire lives. Ghosts did not shock him. Twisting, writhing nightmarish masses of eyes and limbs did not get so much more from him than a look of mild exasperation.

This was something else.

Arthur was human, he'd been pretty much at his limit. There was no reversing the damage the consumption had done to his lungs, even if the Medicine Seller had pulled a magical cure from his box that day they met by the fire.

How?

He had so many questions, which promptly got shoved to the side because the other man was warm and real and solid as the Medicine Seller cupped his cheeks, pushing insistently into the kiss. No smell of sickness and death. Just Arthur and a lot of bear.

He nosed into the crook of Arthur's neck, breathing in the other man deeply.

Live bear too. Not a pelt or a trophy, or meat, or fat. Live. And very hygienic for that matter.

Had Arthur acquired an ill-advised new pet? You would think a massive apex predator would have trouble hiding in a tiny cabin.

"Yes, please," he said, hands sliding from Arthur's cheeks to his chest. "I cannot begin to say how happy I am to see you looking so well."

Edited (weird tense swap) 2021-10-16 03:59 (UTC)

Arthur closed the door behind them, setting his ingredients on the table and swinging the pot off the fire with a rag to keep from burning his hand.

"Make yourself at home, guess I'll do the cookin' this time." he said.

The cabin was small but enough for one though the table had two chairs. Mounted on the wall above the fireplace was a massive pike, and there were a couple other animal heads mounted as well including a wolf and a boar, both absolutely huge and obviously prized hunts. The place also had a lingering smell of another male though it was much older both in who it'd belonged to and when it was last here.

Arthur began to chop up the vegetables, couple mushrooms, garlic, and some venison, putting them into the pot for a stew, along with a bunch of other ingredients and spices.

"No doubt you're wonderin' how I'm alive." he said as he worked. "We went robbin' a train full of army payload, things went well, all things considered, until my brother, John, was shot off it. Thought he was dead, couldn't go back for him. Returned to camp only to find his wife had been taken by Pinkertons to try and lure him or anyone else of the gang out to Van Horn."

No need to bother hiding just what sort of person he was, or had been anyway.

"Me and another went after her as our fearless leader refused to. Killed a bunch of them lawmen, including one of their bosses who'd been a thorn in our side since before you and I met. Called folk like us savages" he snorted. "Anyway, got her outta there, then sent her and her boy to wait while I went to go get the rest of the money for them. Turned out, we'd been ratted out by one of our own, had been at least once, maybe even further back...Back to Blackwater..." he sighed, pausing a moment before continuing. "I went after him, John returned and we was chased by more Pinkertons up into them hills. Lost Edelweiss that night. Poor girl, carried me 'til the end she did."

Arthur stopped again, prepping more of the stew, stirring it and giving it a taste before adding more what he needed to.

"I had suspected, Arthur, well before I saw the wanted posters," he assured, his voice regaining its slow, even measure as he set down his box, and took off his shoes. He caught the old man's lingering scent but it was, well, old. Likely dead in the seven months between the Medicine Seller getting the tip and Arthur moving in.

He padded after Arthur, peering around at the decor. It was very cozy, a perfect retreat for a hunter.

"I had wondered about Edelweiss when I saw you. I am sorry. She was a sweet horse."

He stepped up beside him, unable to resist combing his fingers through Arthur's hair while the man was bent over the cooking pot. It smelled delicious, and he cold feel the winter chill seeping out of his bones.

"But it was not the law that had you on death's door. I am very familiar with consumption, and you were well past the point of no return, even for my remedies."

Arthur nodded. She was quite a horse, much like Boadicea, he'd never forget her and all she did for him.

He turned at the touch, smiled and brushed his knuckles against the other man's soft cheek before resuming his cooking and his story.

"After we left our horses we climbed high into them hills, pursued by law. Indeed, I was at my limit. I had nothin' left, every breath felt like fire and knives and I was bleeding more from coughin' than I was from any bullet wound I can recall. I gave John everything on me and had him run while I drew their fire. Eventually they were either all dead or lost sight of me and continued on all the same until I came to fight the bastard who'd ratted us out. Micah Bell. Was a hard fight, could barely breathe through it, and in the end, I didn't get to kill him."

He added the last of the ingredients to the pot and took a seat at the table. "I lay broken and bleeding, fingers on my gun, ready to shoot him but I was stopped. Stopped by a man I once considered...He stopped us, then both left me to die alone. Saw the sunrise that mornin'. Never seen one so pretty, or maybe it was just being sick and thinkin' it was my last breaths that made it so."

He got up again, grabbing bowls, mugs, and a wrapped loaf of bread from the cabinet, setting them down on the table.

"I lay there for...I don't know how long, felt awhile, but couldn't have been long as the sun was still comin' up, but next thing I know I feel this...agony. Unlike the TB, unlike being shot it just, it just went through my whole body. Then I...well...Heh, I transformed, into a bear." he said looking at the medicine seller. Saying it out loud sounded absolutely ridiculous. "Guess that big bastard who bit me was a werebear or shifter or somethin' because I can turn between animal and man at will now. The TB disappeared, like the curse took over when I was right at the point of death and healed me from head to toe."

Fortunately for Arthur, he was talking to a fox that turned into a human and spent his life severing troubled spirits from their lingering woes.

The werebear bit seemed quite normal to him.

"So that is why I smelled bear on you."

He recalled the peculiar scent when they had parted ways while he joined Arthur at the table. He had been giving his own wrist the occasional surreptitious pinch, just in case he was stuck in a pleasant dream - but no. This was real.

Arthur was alive and well and making stew.

"How much of a curse is it, I wonder? You are very well-suited to being a bear, I think."

"I smell like a bear?" he gave his pit a sniff and then shrugged. "Well, still findin' things out. About the first month and then some, I was hungry almost constantly to the point where I devoured a rotten deer down to the bones. Then came across a bunch of Murfrees that had attacked some poor bastard's camp. Would have eaten them too if they hadn't shot and killed the horses..."

He ate both poor dead beasts down to nothing before he was sated enough. But at least he hadn't gone for the humans.

He shook himself a little to rid himself of the thought. "After I got my bearings-" he cringed at the unintended pun and paused a moment before continuing, "I stole some clothes and came here. The Veteran who owned this place, Hamish Sinclair, he and I met a couple times prior to the whole bear business. Didn't tell him what I was but he lent me a gun and we went hunting again, couple times. Hunted, fished, talked a lot too. Anyway the final time we went huntin', the boar that had been plaguing folk around here turned up and, well, he got gored and didn't make it. He asked me to take care of his horse Buell and, I took over his place after burying him, figure he wouldn't mind and its out of the way enough to avoid attention."

Stew done, Arthur got up and ladled portions into bowls for both of them, slicing some bread to have with it and taking up an old bottle of whiskey, setting it down between them.

The sniffing got a soft chuckle from the Medicine Seller.

"It is not a bad smell, do not worry. I am very glad you did not eat other humans," he said, taking the offered bowl of stew and bread with a soft 'thank you'.

Other things weighed on his mind as he processed Arthur's tale. It was easy enough to discuss the bear matter as he thought over the whole sordid tale of death and betrayal.

"I take it you have gotten a better handle on things? You were probably ravenous because it was both autumn and the havoc the consumption wreaked on your body."

"I'm still hungry a lot but yea, I don't go around eatin' roadkill no more." he said, taking the first spoonful of stew.

Was no masterpiece by the medicine seller, but it was far better than the shit Pearson made them eat. Through trial and error he'd gotten better at cooking the last month or so. Mostly because eating everything raw as a bear got boring.

He dipped a piece of bread in the juices and began to eat in earnest. "Can hardly wait for the lake to thaw, would love to get some fish again." he sighed, pouring himself some of the drink into a chipped mug. "Can't get drunk no more. Most injuries heal over in seconds..."

Arthur looked at the other man, slowing his eating to really look at him. "Guess you found me again after all," he said with a wry smile, recalling when he spoke of appearing in another life some years later maybe.

The Medicine Seller certainly seemed to be enjoying the meal, spooning meat and vegetables and sipping broth from the bowl. He was about to mention the fish he caught when Arthur pointed out his own words to him.

He smiled; a small one, but the sharp and chilly features softened, and there was a warmth behind his eyes.

"It would seem as though I have."

Much sooner than he expected, but glad of it all the same.

"A little fuzzier than I left you, but in much better health."

Arthur smiled and then chuckled, scratching his new facial hair but he knew what he meant.

His smile then faltered, and he stared into his meal for a moment before speaking up again

"You uhh...you stickin' around?" he asked

The Medicine Seller did not break eye contact; in part because he was simply happy to see the other man alive and well, but also to keep an eye on his expressions.

Arthur had been through so much, the world had taken so much out of him.

It seemed due to put a little back.

"If you are offering," he said slowly, "I would like that very much."

Arthur smiled again and relaxed, "You're welcome to stay...long as you want. Or until you get tired of me" he laughed a little.

Wouldn't take long, no one stuck with him long, but the company would be welcome after being on his own, apart from Buell anyway.

He returned to his stew. "What about you anyway? What you been up to while I was dead?" he asked "Anymore of them uhh Naeg...The thing that bit your leg." he said, giving up on trying to recall what the medicine seller had called the cannibal let alone pronounce it.

He was starting to pick up on the pattern of ways Arthur talked about himself. Self-deprecating but in a way that sounded all too sincere.

Instead of platitudes and reassurances that would go in one ear and out the other, the Medicine Seller decided to change tactics.

"Likewise, you are welcome to send me on my way when you tire of me," he replied in kind, wondering how that would sound in Arthur's ears.

"And no, no more Naegatsuku," he said with a small shake of his head. "Other things though. With one foot in this corner of the world, you may begin to recognize such things more often."

Arthur's ability to heal certainly had him wondering if he would have similar longevity to the Medicine Seller - though he mustn't get his hopes up. He wasn't even sure of the moral implications of hoping such a thing.

Arthur nodded, but didn't really listen. He'd never tire of his company. Folk always tired of him.

The statement that he'd notice more...supernatural things, was interesting. "Really? Like what?" he asked, getting up and refilling his bowl and sitting with him again, scooting his chair a bit closer.

He could smell the other man from across the table...How strange...his eyes drifted to his neck and along his ears...

Christ just finish dinner first you horny bastard.

Edited (icon change) 2021-10-16 07:00 (UTC)

He did not miss the look, not if that pleased little smirk were aught to go by.

The Medicine Seller was certainly not shy with his attraction. Perhaps subtle when he was feeling in a particularly infuriating mood, but fortunately for Arthur, he didn't feel like teasing the man into a frenzy.

There was the lightest brush of his foot against Arthur's; something that could easily be construed as an accident when Arthur shifted closer. However, when the Medicine Seller dragged his foot up the inside of his calf, that could be seen as very deliberate.

"Restless spirits, people warped beyond their humanity by profound regret, whatever it was the Murfrees had been trying to awaken."

He finished off his own bowl; he didn't quite have the same appetite as Arthur, but he wondered if their other appetites may be much closer in alignment.

"Aside from the healing, appetite, and turning into a half-ton carnivore, have you noticed any other changes to your physicality?"

Arthur shifted in his seat, trying to focus on his food, but the statement about the Murfrees distracted him entirely. "What do you mean what they were tryin' to awaken?" he asked, brow furrowing.

"Don't tell me they're tryin' to summon somethin'?" he asked, the idea of it absurd. For various reasons. Less about the supernatural, more that the Murfrees knew how to do anything but piss themselves.

"I do not know and do not hope to ever find out. You clearing them out seemed to put a stop to whatever was going on."

He nibbled on the rest of his bread, warm and content from Arthur's presence and a rather tasty stew. Heavier than his usual fare, but in this weather, it was very much welcome.

"When I went to deal with an Onryo, I felt another older presence. Lessening the amount of people turned into twisted effigies seems to have stopped it stirring, however."

Arthur listened attentively, frown deepening at the idea of the Murfrees possibly trying to summon or please something...

"We saved a girl." he blurted suddenly "The day we went and cleared them out of Beaver Hollow, there was body parts and weird effigies. We burned and rid of all that but, they'd taken a girl, and she was still alive down there. We got her out, got her home. Any idea if that might have anythin' to do with what they was maybe doing?"

He'd ask what an Onryo was another time. But had he and Charles actually stopped something?

"You may have stopped them at their source. As I said, I do not know the full story there and I hope not to find out."

Even his curiosity had its limits.

"But yes, you will start to notice these things more often."

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how it should have ended lmao *gross sobbing*

totally did not get a little teary eyed over arthur nope, nuh uh not me *ugly cries*

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how it should have ended lmao gross sobbing

totally did not get a little teary eyed over arthur nope, nuh uh not me ugly cries