No Real Soldier

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"Does it?" she was quick to question, but the way in which she said it didn't come off as a serious inquiry; more like a hinting comment that she didn't trust that line what so ever. It was obvious they hadn't saved each other's lives purely because they held life itself sacred. He had threatened her not fifteen minutes ago, unprovoked, she might add, and regardless of his reasoning. The only thing that didn't fit into the picture was that he had tackled her in order to save her from the reaper. That particular peg in the timeline was a little off kilter, in terms of the selfish reasoning Scout had assumed lay at the bottom of why they had worked together at all.

Whatever.

Maybe the scales were slightly off, but only by the slimmest margin. She didn't like that it was tipped against her, because if it were leaning in any direction, it would be his, considering the Reaper. That damn Reaper.

Scout didn't take her eyes off of him when he looked up at the sun, instead staring and setting his physical attributes to memory. After he worked out the time and gave her a quote, she turned her gaze so it wasn't exactly burrowing into his flesh metaphorically any longer. "That would work." she responded, figuring she'd remain in this sector for at least the remaining week; then there was a chance she would be reassigned. She wouldn't say as much however, there was no need to offer a drifter information about their routes and how they operated.

As he continued with a broad sweep of what collateral might mean, Scout almost stopped to correct him. She didn't need anything from him. She wanted something from him. There was a big difference in the two. One suggested a dependence, which she did not have and very much chomped at the bit to say. But she didn't. Let him think whatever he wanted. It were peas and carrots in the grand scheme.

"Easy now, let's not jump the gun." she noted in response to being a repeat customer. "But...I'm good at moving those …. needs." she tried to find a way to cautiously give him a hint as to her specialty, without actually saying she was a smuggler. "You ever need to pay the city a visit, I know what windows they keep unlocked." she said this quietly, lifting a brow in question to make sure he understood what she was saying.

Tag Malachi Blake

Posted 09-07-2021, 12:03 PM

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The corners of his lips curled slightly at her question, but he nodded all the same. He could afford patience and to be cautious here. Certainly, she was trying to get something for nothing, but she could have been far more heavy handed about it too. The sniper overhead gave her a lot more options and opportunity, after all. She hadn’t yet. She’d gone a different route…one with more options and off-ramps than outright thuggery.

He could respect that well enough.

Looking down at her, he saw how she hadn’t taken her eyes off him until he gave her the estimate. That look had been intense and it was his turn to regard her as she considered the offer this time. That answer was simple and vague.

”Well, she’s not a complete idiot…” he mused to himself. They were far from friends or worth of trust toward one another yet. There could have been an opportunity to glean more information, but she’d deftly sidestepped it. He could appreciate someone with forethought and quick thinking. He responded by inclining his head to indicate that they had reached an accord about the time.

His mouth broadened into a more amused smile as she all but told him to pump his brakes about a long-term business relationship, especially when it was followed up by a far more oblique statement. His brows lifted slightly at that, encouraging her to go further. Given how she was speaking, he doubted her compatriot on the end of the long rifle was in on the kind of collateral she was offering. When she spelled it out further with the metaphor, he let his tongue run over his lip, considering it and nodding.

”I’m sure you get to see where a lot of those needs are and help see them through. I can imagine it’s very fulfilling. Might be I could use a view…if I ever have a reason to be passing through and all.” He gently moved to pry that pistol from her small, deft fingers, is other hand coming out in an offer of agreement, palm slightly up to shake.

Scout Gadsby

Posted 09-07-2021, 06:44 PM

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It was clear he was picking up what she was laying down, though, there wasn't much concern that he would miss it. What she had told him was pretty straight forward, even if it were wrapped in a metaphoric blanket. Only the daft wouldn't have understood, and it had been her experience most drifters had some form of intelligence; one way or another. It was how they survived this long outside the protections the military offered within the walls of Stronghold.

Scout smirked at his comment about her specialties being quote, unquote fulfilling. The term suggested she was some sort of Robin Hood, helping the needy; but it wasn't like that at all... and she had a feeling the drifter knew this as well. Perhaps it was a jab at her, a little sarcasm for the road. Scout could appreciate it. "Especially for my pockets." she flashed that smirk again, having no quarrels with herself about being honest. There was no reason to pretend. Not in her eyes. She was what she was, and she wanted to make sure there no mistaking it.

"But okay, then a round-trip ticket in exchange for the pistol... I can't promise first class." she mused, feeling him now actively removing the gun from her hand. She let go, then raised it to shake that other hand he had offered, her grip firm, but not overly harsh. "You got a name drifter?" She didn't quite think she would get his real name, but it was better to have an identifier than to have nothing at all.

Posted 09-08-2021, 10:30 AM

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While he had been trying to be more oblique about the fulfillment being mostly toward herself, she took the far more direct route. He snorted at that, nodding slightly. ”Well, I guess I can appreciate a straight shooter now and again.”

At least the two of them were on the same page.

”Never was much for first class anyway,” he began, her manner of speaking reminding him of some of the banter that he used to have back with his own friends. Back before the world came to an end. The statement just slipped out before he could think of the implications and he shrugged, trying to play the verbal faux pas off. ”That’s why I’d prefer to visit than live inside those big walls of yours. I don’t need all the amenities.”

All he could do is hope that he played it off well enough.

At her question, he inclined his head slightly. ”You can call me ‘Mal’.” ”Bad”, in the Latin. Seemed a lot more fitting now, all things considered. ”What about you, American Lit? Got another name I can call you by?”

He was pleasantly surprised by the firmness of her grip, even if their size difference meant that he still engulfed hers, more or less. He returned that shake before using his other hand trigger the slide to go forward on the empty gun. With her hand now released, he pulled up the shirt she’d slipped her hand beneath earlier, baring his torso as he slid the gun back into the concealed holster there at the front of his rough hiking pants.

Scout Gadsby

Posted 09-08-2021, 06:34 PM

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"Oh?" she rose a brow, not quite sure what to think of his statement. Did he have many opportunities where it required him to pick a particular transportation class? Briefly she wondered if he had more experience inside the walls than one would consider for a Drifter. But there were times when people made it inside that weren't suppose to, she knew this because she was apart of many of them. It was an odd thing to say, but she tried not to get too caught up in what it meant. He clearly needed someone with a ticket, since he seemed amical towards the trade. "Right." she gave him a look, "cause amenities are the worst part, right."

"What?" her curiously confused expression only deepened at a reference he was making that didn't click at all for her. She figured he was looking at the name on her uniform, Gadsby, that much was clear. But what was American Lit? She shook her head, drifters were weird, they had their own language, how many times had they spoke about that back at the barracks; made fun of it even. That would of been another one for the dinner table, except Scout had no interest in being social.

"Okay Mal it is..." His name sounded like it ought to have been short for something, but she didn't press.

She didn't really like her last name, it wasn't hers really, just given to her by a piece of shit named Ross. "Scout." she offered, not exactly enjoying that he had her entire 'name' but it didn't scare her either. Let him try to misuse it, she'd put a bounty on his head and make his life unbearably hard to live anywhere near Stronghold.

"Sorry... for emptying it." she chuckled to herself, clearly not too sorry.

Posted 09-08-2021, 08:08 PM This post was last modified: 09-08-2021, 08:08 PM by Scout Gadsby

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Unfortunately, his slip of the tongue wasn’t completely missed by the woman before him. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to linger on it too long. That gaze he got from her certainly seemed a tad judgmental, but at least it wasn’t filled with confusion or skepticism. He could work with both of those and let her just write off the slip of the tongue as an odd turn of phrase. Malachi was certain that it would hardly be the first time such a thing happened. Some of the drifters he’d run across almost seemed to have their own language at times.

Sadly, he didn’t consider the fact that classic literature probably wasn’t high on the educational list in this day and age. There was something incredibly discomfiting about the sudden realization that he might very well be one of the most well-read people on the planet. That was more than a little bit depressing. He resolved to head back to where he’d found that Barnes & Noble a few weeks back. Maybe he’d get her something to read…on the house.

Raising his hand, he waved away his errant statement the way you’d wave away a bit of smoke. ”Don’t worry about it. Inside joke.”

Malachi was more than a little amused that she seemed to question the name he gave, after hearing what she told him. His thought immediately went to cookies. ”Goddamn I could go for some Samoas or Thin Mints right now…” he thought to himself. Thankfully, he managed to keep his thoughts inside his head and out of his mouth this time. He was less successful in keeping his mouth from smirking, fighting and failing to corral the corner of his lips at that unexpected name.

At her chuckled apology, he gave a slight sigh, but lifted his arms in a shrug. ”Given that it kept me from not becoming a chew toy, I guess I can give you a pass on trigger discipline.” There wasn’t any heat to his voice and his body language remained relaxed, conversational, and open.

”Well then, Scout, it’s been a pleasure meeting you and I look forward to concluding our business arrangement in a few days.”

Scout Gadsby

Posted 09-08-2021, 09:04 PM

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Inside joke or not, Scout wished she knew the reference. It was never fun being on the outside of an inside joke; even though it was lessened by the fact there wasn't an entire group among them that could laugh about it, excluding her. Unfortunately, Scout knew all about being on the outside of things. Her circle was small. Microscopically so. Many people in the military had teams, groups that trusted one another, like brothers and sisters, friends. Scout couldn't say she really had that, or if it seemed like she did, it was a lie. Enough of a fib to blend in, remain unnoticed, and not make a name for herself. She strived to be mediocre in front of anyone that was watching.

"Alright." She let it go, but the annoyed tone she used suggested she wasn't impressed.

Soon after telling him her first name, she caught the struggle that formed on his lips, seeing as he was in the midst of battle in trying to keep them from pulling into a smirk. Her green eyes turned into small slits, narrowing and gritting her teeth behind her own. "Is it funny?" she couldn't stop herself, rolling her eyes, and unconsciously placing her hand on the pistol grip of her rifle.

After it was her turn to chuckle, she slightly tilted her head in thought. Trigger discipline. You just didn't hear drifters talk like that very often. It almost had her wondering if he had been military once upon a time... and if he was, there would of been information on him in the records. She shrugged back, "Sometimes I get a little excited." she decided as soon as she got back, she would attempt to look him up with the bare bones of information she had. Who knew how many people named Mal might be in the system... but she would try none-the-less. There couldn't be too many with almost white-blond hair.

"Same to ya. Enjoy your walk, Mal."

Posted 09-09-2021, 08:11 PM

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