apassingafternoon: (for how long must I wait)
[personal profile] apassingafternoon
They had gone about the path Bert described to her. Nearly two weeks along the perimeter of Gilead and the caves that hid here and there. Each discovery was an exercise in mental torture because the traveling itself wasn't enough, apparently. They either found nothing or the remains of what was once a person, gunslinger or otherwise. Neither option was any lighter on a group of men so hopelessly entrenched in understandable suffering. Kaine wasn't exactly a bastion of sunshine by the end of the first week but she began to look up a little as they began to circle back. It hadn't been discussed one way or the other yet but she couldn't help they were going to set off for their real destination very soon and it was difficult to feel anything but relief in that.

At least she hid it well, even as they made their way back towards the hideout. Their first passover had been a tense affair because it only made sense to check. It was a strangely angled little shack on a particularly steep hill. It would be difficult for any survivor to make their way up there but far from impossible. But Kaine had raised a fit to the point of hysterics, insisting that it be ignored.

No matter the consequences of said decision she didn't expect to hear a series of familiar, high-pitched noises. She stopped dead cold, eyes widening.

"Bert, did you -" Did he hear that? She couldn't slam the question out in time before it sounded again. "Holy shit," A delirious sort of grin took over her face. "That's a Guardian!"

Kaine stuck her curled fingers into her mouth and gave back a different rhythm of whistles, but she didn't wait for approval to start moving towards that disgusting shack.

Date: 2016-03-09 11:03 pm (UTC)
askthelookout: (Angry smoking)
From: [personal profile] askthelookout
"Thankee-sai." Bert gave Eunyce a winning smile, pushing himself to his feet, and cocked his head to one side. "They're still shooting," he observed, to Kaine. "Half a minute more, then I'll head out and get them." He didn't particularly want to interrupt the fighting. Not without a reason. It felt to him as though everyone involved could use a victory, even if it was only over brute animals.

"Is she going to be alright?" he asked, looking over Eunyce's shoulder at Alice's limp form, every inch the concerned parent. It would almost have been funny, except that for once in his life, he was deadly serious about his concern. He'd already lost one of Rebecca's girls. He wasn't sure he could take losing another.

Date: 2016-03-11 06:54 pm (UTC)
askthelookout: (Firelit evening)
From: [personal profile] askthelookout
Bert relaxed visibly, though not entirely. "Thank fuck," he muttered, and raked a hand back through his hair. "And thankee, too, sai. I'm glad someone was around for them." No sarcasm, no wit. For the moment, his relief outweighed his incorrigible humour.

He looked up after a little while, and started limping towards the door. "They've stopped shooting," he observed, and paused for a moment with his hand on the door, counting off under his breath before he opened it.

Roland was on the doorstep, his hand outstretched for the handle. Perfect timing, Bert thought, a little smugly, and stepped aside. "Any of them left, Ro'?"

"Some of them turned tail." Roland looked up, pushing his hat back off his face. Then he saw the others in the hut, and for a moment, he swayed, the blood draining from his face, looking as though he might faint. "Fuck me. You're alive."

Date: 2016-03-13 10:05 pm (UTC)
askthelookout: (Angry smoking)
From: [personal profile] askthelookout
Outside, the other gunslingers had settled against a spur of rock. One of them had produced a pouch of tobacco from somewhere, and was rolling a smoke - he raised a hand to Kaine as she reappeared, and even at a distance, his surprise and joy at seeing that she wasn't alone was hard to miss.

Inside, Roland took a moment more to collect himself, then moved in to embrace the two men. His eyes were pricked with tears, and he didn't particularly care who saw it. Hunkering down, he dug for his own tobacco pouch, solicitously rolling a smoke for each of the injured gunslingers. Not until they were both well-settled with a cigarette burning down between their lips did his businesslike attitude return. Beckoning Bert to join their little huddle, he requested a report from each man in turn, rolling his own smoke as his listened.

It would be half an hour or more before he emerged, and although his dour expression hadn't much changed, there was something a little lighter in his step than there had been for some time. Even this small victory had been a much-needed relief.

Date: 2016-03-18 04:16 pm (UTC)
toweredingly: (Standing and staring)
From: [personal profile] toweredingly
"As much as anyone can," he agreed, with a small nod. "They'll never shoot again, that's for damned sure. But they're alive, and that's not nothing."

It wasn't a lot, either. What would become of them now? Gunslingers who could no longer shoot, whose home and family were gone, whose purpose had been taken from them? But they were alive, and that was something. That was more than they had dared to hope.

"Bert wants to stay until the girl wakes up. I can't argue with him there. But we ought to move before too long. Gunfire draws attention, and that's the last thing we need."

Date: 2016-03-21 10:44 pm (UTC)
toweredingly: (Moody Ro' is moody)
From: [personal profile] toweredingly
Roland was quiet for a long time. At last, he shrugged one shoulder, tucking his thumbs into his gunbelts and rocking back on his heels.

"Truly? I don't know. Mayhap." He looked away, frowning, at the little throng of gunslingers nearby. "More than aught else, I'm tired. And I'm not sure I can feel much more than that, just at the moment." Then, looking back at her, with the full intensity of those bombardier's eyes: "Answer enough for you?"
toweredingly: (Dan-dinh)
From: [personal profile] toweredingly
Roland shrugged, turning away and looking out over the hills. He was quiet for a long time, his face set and still, before at last, without turning his head, he said quietly "We don't have enough horses. Not with Bert's leg in that state, not with more injured to carry. It's going to be a long journey."

Profile

apassingafternoon: (Default)
kαıηє {нคяd тσ Ъε รσƒт, тσugн тσ Ъε тεหdεя}

February 2016

S M T W T F S
 123456
78910111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
28 29     

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 16th, 2025 05:16 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios