onesyllable (
onesyllable) wrote in
sixthiterationlogs2018-11-09 09:01 pm
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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
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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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."
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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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"We could take anything we wanted," he agrees, though really, between the both of them, he doubts they'd be stopped by anyone if they tried to take over something. "What do you say? You, me, we find a barn, some animals, make it so we don't really need anyone else?"
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"No reason to leave it all in empty houses," he points out, shrugging. "We need animals that are useful. Chickens. Anything with milk. Meat animals."
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"Not pets or mounts. Something we can fatten up and get your boyfriend to slaughter for us." Because why do it when he can get the weird fellow to do it?
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"Guerito, he's not my boyfriend, stop calling him that," he complains, because the only man he's ever though about having like that is currently acting like a jealous asshole.
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He pauses, glancing slyly over at Vasquez. "That why you don't tell no one your name? It's something stupid?"
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He claps his shoulder and lengthens his strides so he can take over, not intending to give up his name, not just yet.
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He pauses, thinking about something else. "You ever try growing tobacco? Here or back home?"
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"I promise, my name is beautiful," he says, to distract from the other question while he thinks. "Why? You have some plants we can start and a place to do it?"
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"How do people get seeds around here? Do you know?"
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"Let's start with the animals. What do you want to rustle first?" he asks, hand going to his lasso. "We can drag it back, figure out a pen."
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Talking about animals, that at least makes sense.
"I'm thinking those sheep maybe. You know if anyone's tried to eat them? Mutton ain't so bad."
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"And eggs," he adds. "Besides, if we can find enough liquor, who cares?" He should be joking, but he's not. Plenty of meals can be pushed aside for a good drink.
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Yep, technical terms here.
"So chicken definitely. I've fished before," he's says, nodding. "And how are people taking down those deer?" He misses having a gun. Or even a bow and arrow.
Laughing though, shifting to nudge him with his shoulder. "Wanda, this girl I talked with, she says someone named Sam makes some, keeps it in the kitchen sometimes. Moonshine. It was ... It was rough," he says, shaking his head, though he's grinning. "Might be able to snag some of it, bleed it off and store it at the house."
They live far enough out from others it should work well for them to store it at home and no one find it.
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"Or like Billy, knives," he adds. It's only that he and Faraday (and Goodnight, too), relied on guns, though at least Vasquez had one more avenue. He pats the lasso at his side. "I could bring them down."
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And by borrow he means bring north and maybe forget to return.
"Well that's one of us. I'm used to having a shot." He paused, considering. "Wondering if I could use a sling to take down something."
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"I think it's better for me to lasso it, then you to use a knife. You didn't listen to Billy?" he teases. "He wanted very much to teach everyone how to properly use a knife."
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"Okay so you've been here longer. What should I be looking at livestock wise?"
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"We can find some goats and sheep. Chickens," he says. "Start there, and we have milk, eggs, and maybe enough to raise and kill for meat," he adds. "And then we can go find something for you to adopt, one of the strange animals."
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"But we'll see. They got horses around here?"
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"Not horses," he says, even if there's a strange look on his face. "Something like horses, though. It's called a kirin? They're strange, but they're close enough."
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"Are they that strange?" He sees that look, Vasquez. Took it wrong, but he sees it.
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"You can go meet the kirins."
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