sixthiterationlogs | A whiskey bottle comforts me and tells me not to cry

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A whiskey bottle comforts me and tells me not to cry

WHO: Joshua Faraday
WHERE: Fountain. North Village. South Village Inn
WHEN: Middle of November
OPEN TO: Vasquez, All
WARNINGS: Will update if needed

Arrival

Last he'd known was a comfortable bed, a full belly, and a lot of nightmarish thoughts of how he and the others might die the next day. Somehow finding himself drowning rather than waking up to die is far more fear inducing.

Dragging himself out of the water and onto a bench, he lay down there in the sun for a bit, trying to dry off and buy himself time not to think about this. Whatever this is. Nothing looks right. His clothes aren't right. Hell, for all he knows this is Hell and he never made it out of Rose Creek except in a shallow hole. However it happened, he's not ready to think about it.

Also to not think about the pain he's got in his gut, his skin feeling tight and his head pounding. Drowning will do that to a man. So will being a mostly functioning alcoholic without a drink and with your body having a fit that you're running on empty.

So he lay there under the sun, not caring it is cold on his wet skin and clothes and pretends none of this is happening while he tries to clear his head.

The Inn

Finding Vasquez after Joshua gave up on ignoring how much like shit he feels hadn't done much to help in so many ways. He knows things got bad. Like he's been in a coma bad or the like. He's gotten some whiskey though, and he's been nursing the bottle for a few days to try and not get back to feeling like he did when he arrived.

Not that things are much better. Between Vasquez's attitude, the revelations that were made, and the weirdo who apparently wore a fur coat for everything - maybe even sleeping - and he just needs time to think.

So he makes the hike down to the Inn every few days, getting a meal and trying to make sense of his place and all that he seems to have lost. At least now he has a white linen shirt to wear and so he's only got on the yellow pants with the shoes they gave him. It all feels weird, but the food is familiar enough so least there's that.

He's curious about others though, settling down at tables where others are and giving them a minute or two before asking about where they came from, what they do here, or what happened to them before they got stuck here.

The House - Locked to Vasquez

It's been a few days and Joshua is still trying to work this out. He's not sure what to think about Vasquez and this Booboo fellow or whatever the hell his name is. He's not sure how to handle that Vasquez is being with others. It's all so different than what he's familiar with, especially since even having feelings like that he hasn't let them so because it's wrong and screwing that up could have caused a lot of shit in a war they had started.

Jack had been a bear in a human suit, but Joshua is pretty sure their roommate is definitely a wolf in sheep's clothing, so he's glad when he wakes up and he's apparently gone and out.

Sitting on the front porch in the chill air, sipping a bit off the little bit of whiskey he has left in the bottle and trying to not think while waiting for Vasquez to get up.

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Joshua barely catches them before the eggs slosh off the plate, shoving it all back on the table.

"I just said I was fucking confused, didn't I?" Muttering more than snapping, using his bread and a fork to dig into the eggs, not willing not to eat just because he's pissed.

He looks up at him, shrugging. "Okay? None of my business what you're doing. And for the record," He says, jabbing his fork in Vasquez's direction. "I was trying to be delicate about whatever the hell it is you were doing in his room last night."

It should be a bad sign that they're bickering and fighting, but honestly, it just gives Vasquez relief. It means that they're as normal as ever and the relief is palpable for that, even if Faraday is confused about Vasquez and what he wants.

His jaw tightens at the reminder of last night. True, he'd gone to Bobo and they hadn't been chaste, but it had been driven because of Faraday. All of it is his business, he just doesn't know it. "I get cold at night, sometimes," he lies (badly), though there's a shred of truth in it. "And sometimes, I just want some touch. It was very lonely, hiding out for so long."

"They make blankets in this place, right?" Which is a lot of bitterness, not that he's prepared or able to admit he's thought about Vasquez in intimate ways. He can't let himself think about it. It gets him all confused and twisted up, and now he's facing that there's a chance... except there's not the way he's talking and so he just shrugs again. Because that's his dumb answer to that.

"Like I said, none of my business. I'm giving you an out on having to explain to me. I just didn't know you were... you know."

They do, but Bobo is warmer than most of those blankets and has a dick that the blankets can't provide. He knows this isn't what Faraday wants to hear and Vasquez still has a shred of hope that maybe there could be something.

Which is why he doesn't say anything. Instead, he just chews on his bread, slops eggs into his mouth, and gives Faraday a curious look. "What, like Goodnight and Billy?" He's guessing, but he doesn't think it's a very long leap.

"Sometimes, the road is lonely," he says with a shrug. "There weren't always women, so sometimes, there were men."

"Yeah, like them," he says, shrugging as he scraps his plate with his fork and then uses the last of the toast on it. Just too much a part of his life to eat when you can and waste none o it. This place doesn't make him think he shouldn't still be like that.

"I never..." He waves his hand, pushing to his feet to take the plate to the sink. "Just never happened," he says, not sure how to talk about this. "Not that I care what all the preachers say or nothing."

But he's totally let it run in the back of his head, kept running and not able to stop it when he's let himself think about it.

Vasquez doesn't think he could ever be just like them. They're settled and seem like they have their shit together and he definitely doesn't. After all, he's still afraid of getting too close to anyone, so how could he ever be like them, properly?

He shrugs, not wanting to make a big deal about it. "On a cattle drive, it was easy to be with another man when women weren't around. It was never really about anything else."

He says, in the past tense, because meeting Faraday had changed that. For the first time with a man, he'd experienced a deep pull and need for more, like feelings.

That was a difference with the two of them. Joshua stayed to cities, playing in bars and moving from one saloon to another until he wore out his welcome with the proprietor and the girls. It wasn't always the same day.

"Then we're right back where started. None of this,' He says, twirling a finger to indicate the house. "Means anything." Yet he still doesn't sound happy about that, not about any of it, and he can hear it in his own ears. "Glad you haven't been in this place alone."

Nope, that didn't sound any better. Fuck.

Vasquez finishes with his food and heads for seconds, because even here, he's as hungry as ever, still trying to gain back the weight he'd lost when he'd been hiding and an outlaw. "I'm not alone now. I've got you," he points out, and yes, he has Bobo too, but he's not about to remind Faraday of that and put salt in the wound.

He decides to pour it in his own wound, instead. "Besides, you could find company too," he adds, sounding sour for it. "I'm sure you could find plenty of people who would like to." Like him, sitting right here.

"Poor you," he taunts, though there's a hint of a smile to go with it. Not even meaning to be a dick about it, more self deprecating and being the asshole he is.

Though he arches a brow then, head canting a bit because he can hear those tones and he's not sure he truly understands them right now.

"Yeah maybe. I mean, not like girls here seem like any I've ever known. One kinda but mostly they're... It's really been a lot of years to some of them, hasn't it?" He's had some say it to him, but it's hard to accept. Hell, even that year between him and Vasquez is hard to deal with.

"Poor me," is joyfully agreed upon, even though he's stupidly fond of having Faraday around. Honestly, it's possibly the best thing that could have happened to him, not that he's going to tell him right to his face.

Why give him a reason to let his ego swell? "We're old, to them. Ancient cowboys," he shares with a derisive snort, gnawing on his bread in between words, heart pounding with relief to hear there hasn't been one, because he's not sure he could hide the jealousy so well.

And if he ever did tell him that to his face, at least right now, it's going to leave him expecting the worst. Maybe it might seem fine later, after they've had some time. If Vasquez said it now, Joshua would probably walk out, laughing. Nothing they're sharing now would make him think Vasquez truly believed that.

"How are we ancient when it's right in the middle of our lives?" Or the very last day of his, but same thing right?

"Because other people here are from the future and our time is very, very far," is Vasquez's sad revelation in this case, giving Faraday a shrug of his shoulders, finishing with his seconds and putting his plate aside, his stomach no longer craving food even though he's not actually full.

He reaches for his hat to settle it onto his head, along with a coat to keep warm (though not Bobo's coat, just his usual peacoat). "Are you going anywhere today? Maybe I could join you?"

"Still not the past for us," he grumps, face screwing up about that. So much he has to get used to and that is only a small part of it.

All of it is weird, and strange, and he has no idea what to make of so much of it. The people. The clothing. What he's lost and missed. More than that, he's not really sure he's ready to ask.

"Just gonna look around, but you're welcome to come with. Someone said something about clothing and I need to find something that suits."

"No, it's all present," he agrees, and given the technology and environment, they're closer to their time than anyone else's, though he misses the dry heat of Colorado and California, or even the humidity of Texas. This cold is terrible for his bones and he yanks at a sweater to pull it on again.

"Clothes that aren't mine," he points out, like a reminder that he's still expecting his shirt back from Faraday.

"What clothes that are yours?" Asking it with a smirk as he runs his hand over the shirt he's taken from Vasquez, and more than amused. "But that's a stop," he admits, giving a nod. "Get a look at that jail they're using for a stable," he says, heading for the porch.

"You done that up here?"

Vasquez cocks his head to one side, a completely unimpressed look on his face given Faraday's comment about his clothes. "I'm going to want that back," he insists, not joking around anymore. He only has two actually nice shirts (three or four if you count the more modern wear), and he doesn't want to lose it.

"Done what?" he asks, absently, reaching for his coat, because he wants to go with Faraday, and hasn't been paying enough attention, too busy thinking about how his clothes are going to smell of Faraday when he gets them back.

"I'm aware. You'll get it back soon as I've got something else," he says, long and drawn out tones as if he is soooo put upon in having to give back what isn't his. "Why heading down to look at what I can scrounge. I kind of like those modern clothes I see some wear. Like the dungarees that Bobo wears," he says having noticed that at the very least. "Don't get the coat, but get the pants."

"Turned one of the main buildings up here into a barn. I've heard of some of the animals, and wouldn't mind having some if we're homesteading here."

And so far it looks like it, which means he's going to have to do what he can to have a normal life here. Based on what a normal life is in their world and to them.

Vasquez snorts and gives Faraday an amused look, thinking that he'd look very good in those things. Grabbing some of the food to go (it'll just go bad if he leaves it there), he nods for Faraday to go with him. They'll be walking for a while, so he also grabs a handful of cigarettes and matches for his pocket.

"What kind of animals?" he asks, because he's been wanting a kirin, though he also thinks that maybe just helping Cael will be good enough. "Or do you want one of the fucking strange ones?"

He stood there, holding the door for Vasquez, though he can't help but to laugh at that. "Is there an animal here that's not fucking strange? Because all of the ones I've seen are weird." Though he considers that.

"There's some purple sheep I've seen in the south. Weird looking, and someone called them allpacas but they could be useful. Some said they can be milked even. Might see where you can get some chicken and such. Animals we can use."

"Some people have normal dogs, cats," Vasquez says, but for the most part, all the animals are very strange. He ducks forward to let himself through the door, but his eyes are always back on Faraday. He's always carefully watching, attentive, and at some point, he thinks Faraday is going to notice.

"What, you want to keep a herd of sheep? I'm not shearing them all alone," he warns, because if Faraday thinks that he's going to have that shoved on him, he is very mistaken.

"Some people. Most... there's things that look like they come out of storybooks," he points out, not knowing that soon enough they'll have one.

The air is crisp, clean, and it's something he appreciates, pausing to stretch and yawn, enjoying how it feels.

"What I want," he manages, not all of it before he's done yawning. "Is to know we can handle what we need up here by ourselves. If we've got sheep, then we've got milk and butter and cheese. We get chickens? More eggs. I like that idea."

Vasquez settles his hat on his head, eyeing Faraday with some suspicion as they walk. "And am I going to be the only one who ends up taking care of these animals? Or is it me and Bobo with no help from you, because if that's the case, I'm not so sure that I'm going to help."

Fresh eggs and a sheep for milk and cheese and butter is incredibly tempting, though. If they have enough chickens, they can even slaughter one every once in a while for food.

He looks over at him, rolling his eyes as he just kind of stares at him a minute. "Where in any of this conversation did I say anything about you doing anything?" Because he's really not sure.

"What? You think I came out of my momma playing cards? I've worked on farms, and I've worked hard. Figured one day I'd end up with a place of my own somewhere when I got too old for cards and whiskey and all. I gotta live here, least I'm gonna do is homestead it the way I want."

Shaking his head as he walks, looking to Vasquez again. "And your friend would kill them wouldn't he? Seems like he's not much of a farmhand."

"What, you think you're going to collect animals and not let me help? Cabron, this is literally what I did before I was an outlaw," he reminds him, pointedly, or did he think that being a vaquero was just a lie he took on for no reason at all.

Huffing in disbelief, he shakes his head and keeps following along. "You're not homesteading without me," he says defensively. "I want as much right to any food you'll get. Besides," he adds, "you don't have to worry about Bobo. I'll just ask him nicely not to touch them."

Joshua keeps looking at Vasquez and then away, utterly confused. "Wait. First you sound pissed like I'm going to make you do everything. Now I tell you I didn't mean you had to do anything, you're all angry about that too. What in the hell is wrong?"

Because he's really confused.

"All I know is I'm not sitting around here staring at the four walls like some prisoner. They want to trap me here, I'm doing what I know. Besides, what makes you think I would get food and not share it with you?"

He's an asshole but he's not that cruel.

"And thanks for answering that question," he says, making a face. "Everyone seems to settle down south though. Means there's a lot of empty buildings around here we can use for a barn."

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