quote prompt.

[unmemely]

the quote prompt meme

• comment with your character.
• others will leave a quote/lyric/poem. try a sea of quotes or tumblr if you need help searching for a quote.
• reply to them with a setting based on the quote/lyric/poem.

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[peacemakers]

[ Distracted as he is by avoiding her gaze (because a part of him is discomfited by the weighty turn of their conversation) he misses that small smile. ]

Can't promise I know the first thing about preparin' an animal, though.

[ Or cooking one. But that's another matter entirely. ]

[gunpoints]

I could teach you, if you have any mind to learn.

[ because it's one of the odd skills emma happens to have, and she certainly doesn't mind passing it along.

it's not exactly enjoyable, but she knows how to see it taken care of. ]

[peacemakers]

[ His gaze flicks over to her, there and gone again, and he shrugs a shoulder. ]

Suppose it couldn't hurt, learnin' how.

[ It's how he picked up most of his skills, anyway. "It couldn't hurt to learn." And those he found himself picking up more quickly, he honed.

It's why he's so damn good with cards, why he's so good with guns. He shrugged into learning, one day, and when he found he had a knack for it, he honed that skill to a fine art. ]

[gunpoints]

At least then you can do it for yourself, if you feel so inclined.

[ there's an unspoken addendum there: at least you can do it when we part ways.

while this is beneficial to the both of them now, she knows this isn't a life that lends itself to long companionships or attachments. folks can find themselves snuffed out in a heartbeat in the wastes, and depending on someone, having some sort of connection beyond "useful" isn't in anyone's best interests.

it makes everything harder. complicated.

any partnership they may have found here has to be temporary, because sooner or later, they'll need to go about their own business (or maybe one of them just won't make it out of another of those nasty situations; could just take a bullet and it'll all be over with).

no avoiding that. ]

[peacemakers]

[ He hears the words she doesn't speak, pausing quietly before lifting a shoulder in another shrug.

It's the way it is, he knows. One of these days will likely see them parting ways, disparate as their personalities and wants are. Or one of these days might see their end, considering the blood-soaked lives they lead. It's more a matter of course than pessimism that their partnership would draw to a close.

He snorts out a quiet laugh, bringing another forkful of food to his mouth. ]

You plannin' on teachin' me to cook, too? 'Cause skinning a Radstag don't do me much good if I can't do nothin' with it.

[gunpoints]

[ emma cocks an eyebrow at him from across the little fire. ]

I could, if you want to learn that, too. Not all that hard, if it's something simple.

At least then you might spend less time eatin' this mess.

[ she lifts a bite of the canned mush in demonstration — but then she eats it all the same. ]

[peacemakers]

[ Another snort, though it's more derisive this time. ]

Complain all you like. I see you're still eatin' it.

[gunpoints]

[ there's a dismissive wave of her fork before she replies. ]

Eating somethin' for survival isn't the same as enjoying it.

You'd rather have this than a legitimate meal?

[peacemakers]

All the same to me.

[ Around another mouthful.

Although if he's honest, he'd admit he hasn't had what Emma would consider a legitimate meal in years, and by now, that time is far enough away and those days so few, compared to those he's lived since, that he hardly remembers what it was like. ]

Food's food. So long as it don't poison me, I'm pleased.

[gunpoints]

Fair enough. So long as it keeps you alive, it doesn't matter much.

[ she can concede that that's fair, after all. how else is one to survive out here like this? grabbing whatever's available and edible is the only way to make sure there's food most days, and emma's had to come to terms with that.

(in fact, she's quite good at finding what she needs.)

but that doesn't mean there aren't days she wishes for something warm and fresh and less likely to be considered an antique. ]

Still, a skill's a skill.

[ she gives a shrug, takes another bite. ]

Might prove useful to you someday.

[peacemakers]

[ He finishes off the last of his food in a few mouthfuls, shrugs his shoulders again. ]

Sure. Maybe.

[ In the sort of way that implies he thinks the opposite, while also not bothering to hide that the agreement is basically a lie. ]

I ever find myself with a dead Brahmin on my hands, suppose I can put it to good use.

[gunpoints]

[ emma pauses mid-bite to look up at him with something unimpressed.

—but only briefly, before she shrugs off the lie like she does all the others. ]

Well, then at least you wouldn't be wastin' it.

[ but she polishes off her food anyway, setting the can aside with a little sigh. ]

Never had much of home-cooked meals, have you, Faraday?

[ asking him now, because it only seems fair, given that he brought it up in the first place. ]

[peacemakers]

[ He sets his own empty can on the floor, nudging it away with the toe of his boot. He holds the utensil out to her – they'll clean them later – and at her question, he quirks an eyebrow.

He's quiet for a few breaths, not inclined to answer, but given that Emma had answered the questions posed to her, it'd be unsporting not to answer the ones she sends his way. ]

Used to. [ He forces a neutral tone of voice. ] But those days are far enough away that I don't miss 'em.

[gunpoints]

[ emma reaches out for the fork, setting it aside with her own to be dealt with later. ]

How long ago?

[ she's curious, as she occasionally happens to be about faraday.

(but it's that attachment thing. knowing too much about another person makes it harder to pretend like they're just another body, no more important than any they might pass in the wastes.) ]

[peacemakers]

[ He echoes her words back a little pointedly: ]

Long ago.

[ Which, in his eyes, is answer enough. The last thing he wants is to share some sob story about a ruined childhood and learning how to wield a gun not too long after his age hit double digits. ]

[gunpoints]

[ well, it's a fair answer. not a straight one, by any means, but an answer nonetheless.

she just nods, willing to accept that without further prodding.

a moment of quiet, and then she offers, ]

Three years.

[ she realizes there's not much context to that, which is why she's willing to add to it. ]

That's how long it's been since I've had anythin' home-cooked.

[peacemakers]

[ Her response catches him off-guard, and he blinks up at her, watchful; it's the same observant sort of gaze he casts across tables when they make their way into settlements, when he gambles caps to pad their funds.

Usually he makes a habit of hiding it – but he doesn't, this time, if only because even with the little time they've spent together, he figures Emma would recognize that look of his from a mile away. ]

Can't go back to it?

[ It being whatever life she had left or lost.

He phrases this carefully, at least, leaves it as a yes or no question. ]

[gunpoints]

[ oh, but emma does indeed know that look (knows a lot of his looks, these days, though she'd surprise herself to admit it). she considers him and her answer for a moment, given the way he's watching her.

calculating. careful. ]

Nothing to go back to.

[ she could have said yes or no, but she's being mildly more explicit.

mildly. ]

[peacemakers]

[ He holds her gaze for a second longer, and while that answer just opens up more questions, he finally relents, letting his gaze drop. ]

Could always start over somewhere new.

That farmer and his wife had a decent enough setup. Just need stronger spines to defend it.

[gunpoints]

[ emma looks down at the fire finally, shaking her head. ]

I don't think that life suits me much anymore.

[ she'd shared it with matthew, after all, and here she is, years later, feeling like—

a different person.

she's not quite sure she'd even remember how to fall into that life again, not after this time in the wasteland, not after everything she went through with matthew to begin with.

not with all she lost. ]

The traveling around is more normal to me now.

[peacemakers]

[ He's not entirely sure how to answer that, so Faraday stays quiet for a few seconds, only offers a quiet hum to acknowledge he heard anything at all.

Must've been one hell of a loss, he thinks, to send her running into the wasteland like she has. Faraday wasn't quite old enough to register all that had happened – had felt hollowed out when he lost his ma, of course, but not quite old enough to feel the loss of his home quite as keenly. Must be hell, he thinks, though he lacks the emotional punch to make the thought ring true.

At length, he nods over to where her rifle lies. ]

Where'd you learn to shoot?

[ Because it's odd to Faraday that a farmer – as Emma must have been – should be such a good shot, and he doubts that was a skill she merely picked up three years back. ]

[gunpoints]

[ there's a flicker of surprise that makes its way to emma's expression when faraday asks that particular question; it feels even more personal, something they've gone out of their way to avoid, but, well, they've been sharing more tidbits tonight.

odd, but it doesn't stop her from answering. ]

My father taught me, when I was much younger.

Been shootin' since I was big enough to hold a gun.

[ there's a flash of something on her face, not quite a smile — but almost — with the fond memory. ]

He thought everyone ought to be able to defend themselves, and I took to it well.

[peacemakers]

[ That logically follows, Faraday supposes. It certainly makes sense for her to have been shooting all her life, since it certainly seems like she has been.

Which explains the precision shooting, but doesn't quite explain how it is she can keep such a sense of calm about her in the middle of a firefight. That is a difficult question to answer, he supposes, as it probably delves into the more sordid details in one's life.

He leaves it off, for tonight, if only because that flicker of a smile keeps the question at bay. ]

Taught you well, it looks like.

[gunpoints]

I think he knew I'd need it someday.

[ a sensible line of thinking, given how dangerous everything around them is — always. ]

Doubt he thought I'd be usin' it quite like this, but.

[ a lift of her shoulder in a "what can you do?" sort of gesture. ]

[peacemakers]

Skill like that, I doubt anyone uses it the way they thought they would.

[ Faraday, for instance, had picked up the skill in self-defense, had learned how to gun down men if they started it. He hardly thought he'd be the one to seek out trouble in the name of some hapless farmer and his kidnapped wife, but—

What can you do? ]