Date: 2019-01-11 07:08 pm (UTC)
peacemakers: (091)
From: [personal profile] peacemakers
Faraday falls a pace behind as Vasquez leads the way to the saloon. He offers up smiles and a few words of greeting to the faces he recognizes, and he’s still a little taken aback by the warm welcome he still receives. In the days before leaving, he recalls being a giant ass, remembers snapping at well-meaning folks asking after his wounds, offering their assistance in navigating stairs or a shoulder to lean on as he made the trek from the boarding house to the livery stable to check on Jack.

Apparently time has soothed away those sour memories, and Faraday isn’t likely to bring them back up again.

They sit at a corner table, and in a different moment, his attention might have been drawn to the card game not too far away. Now, though, he pulls of his hat, setting it on the table as he accepts the glass of whiskey. Naturally, he downs it all in one go, letting the familiar numbing burn travel its way down his throat. He slides it back over to Vasquez for a refill.

The nagging is familiar and not entirely welcome; he grimaces at Vasquez across the table and can’t help but snap back, “What, are you sayin’ it’s gonna get up and walk off in the middle of the night and leave behind scribbled note, too?”
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Vasquez

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