It's not the first time Faraday's traveled with company. When he first set out, he had befriended a few like-minded men – young and brash and filled with dreams of finding fortune out in the west. Of course, nothing was quite so easy, and those same men found their ends on the wrong side of a gun, thanks to some mixture of stupidity or poor luck. Somehow, Faraday alone managed to survive, to carve out a sort of life for himself, and managed to keep himself mostly whole out on the frontier.
... Aside from the incident at Rose Creek.
That isn't to say that he's used to Vasquez's company. Recuperating in that quaint, sparse little room with Vasquez at his side was one thing, but traveling with the man was another beast entirely. They bicker constantly, and Faraday tends to cut a little too close to the wick with his jokes, whether he means to do it or not. He drinks too much, which does little for the quick turn of his temper, and in the rare instances where they wander into little gatherings of tents that auspiciously call themselves "towns," Faraday is the one to cause trouble with his gambling. In spite of all evidence to the contrary, Faraday only rarely cheats at the table; he makes more use of his uncanny ability to read people than he does his clever tricks. Still, that hardly stops his fellow players from throwing accusations at him, and things tend to get heated.
The town that Vasquez sends him into, this time, is actually deserving of the title. The folks who had set up the town had clearly meant to grow roots, which means that supplies are far easier to come by. Faraday loads up his saddle bags with all the goods they need to continue on with their travels. He stops by the saloon to replenish their whiskey reserves (because Lord knows the two of them tend to go through it quickly), and just as he's about to leave, he spies the game of cards in the corner.
... One hand couldn't hurt, he thinks. And while the job at Rose Creek had done well to pad their coffers, a bit of extra money wouldn't go amiss.
One hand turns into a half-dozen, and by the time he returns to Vasquez and the little camp they had set up, the sun is setting at his back. Vasquez's voice reaches him as he pulls on Jack's reins, slowing him to a stop, and Faraday snorts out a dismissive noise.
"Please, hombre," he says haughtily; the vowels are willfully imprecise on the borrowed word. "I'm always charming."
He dismounts, movements loose and slightly clumsy as he hitches Jack up for the night – a sign that he's had a drink or two. Tipsy, maybe, but nowhere near drunk. Faraday carefully sinks down to sit beside Vasquez, mindful of the warning ache of old scars; he brings with him the scent of whiskey and perfume, and on his cheek is a bright red smear. He flashes Vasquez a bright grin – Faraday, unsurprisingly, is in an excellent mood – though the smile slips into a frown when he sees what's in Vasquez's hand.
no subject
... Aside from the incident at Rose Creek.
That isn't to say that he's used to Vasquez's company. Recuperating in that quaint, sparse little room with Vasquez at his side was one thing, but traveling with the man was another beast entirely. They bicker constantly, and Faraday tends to cut a little too close to the wick with his jokes, whether he means to do it or not. He drinks too much, which does little for the quick turn of his temper, and in the rare instances where they wander into little gatherings of tents that auspiciously call themselves "towns," Faraday is the one to cause trouble with his gambling. In spite of all evidence to the contrary, Faraday only rarely cheats at the table; he makes more use of his uncanny ability to read people than he does his clever tricks. Still, that hardly stops his fellow players from throwing accusations at him, and things tend to get heated.
The town that Vasquez sends him into, this time, is actually deserving of the title. The folks who had set up the town had clearly meant to grow roots, which means that supplies are far easier to come by. Faraday loads up his saddle bags with all the goods they need to continue on with their travels. He stops by the saloon to replenish their whiskey reserves (because Lord knows the two of them tend to go through it quickly), and just as he's about to leave, he spies the game of cards in the corner.
... One hand couldn't hurt, he thinks. And while the job at Rose Creek had done well to pad their coffers, a bit of extra money wouldn't go amiss.
One hand turns into a half-dozen, and by the time he returns to Vasquez and the little camp they had set up, the sun is setting at his back. Vasquez's voice reaches him as he pulls on Jack's reins, slowing him to a stop, and Faraday snorts out a dismissive noise.
"Please, hombre," he says haughtily; the vowels are willfully imprecise on the borrowed word. "I'm always charming."
He dismounts, movements loose and slightly clumsy as he hitches Jack up for the night – a sign that he's had a drink or two. Tipsy, maybe, but nowhere near drunk. Faraday carefully sinks down to sit beside Vasquez, mindful of the warning ache of old scars; he brings with him the scent of whiskey and perfume, and on his cheek is a bright red smear. He flashes Vasquez a bright grin – Faraday, unsurprisingly, is in an excellent mood – though the smile slips into a frown when he sees what's in Vasquez's hand.
"Is that mine?"