[ teamwork doesn't come easy to vasquez. the only back he knows to watch is his own, and that's just the way he likes it. the company of others is nothing he's actively sought in years, not when it's so much simpler to be responsible for himself — and that hardly leaves room in his interests for another soul. that's part of what sits so strangely with him as he's followed chisolm to this little one horse town. it's the sort of place vasquez would avoid altogether, given the chance (too few faces, too easy for him to be recognized, if someone out for $500 catches sight of him), but he's here nonetheless, and that first day, he fights beside those six other men and guns down blackstones without an ounce of hesitation.
(but maybe a little bit of glee.)
fighting beside faraday, however? oh, now that's another oddity that leaves him rankled at first. the gambler talks too much, drinks even more than that, and he provokes vasquez in all the wrong ways. but he'd so easily fallen into letting the other man keep those bullets off his back, just as he'd shot down any gun aimed right for faraday.
teamwork, strange as it was — even if, directly after the skirmish, he nearly has his pistol back in hand with a bullet ready for that very man he'd fought beside. just vasquez's nature, really, and at that point, what did he even owe this stranger that's come along with chisolm? why should he show restraint when faraday's spurring vasquez into a fight? he's not one to shrink from a challenge, but it's undoubtedly in both their favors when that spark is just as quickly doused by more immediate concerns.
but that night in the saloon is strangely lighthearted after the fact, and vasquez finds himself laughing alongside faraday, all sharp grins and whiskey-fueled jokes. he later realizes it's more than he's laughed in...well. a while. it feels good, if he's honest.
(not that he has any mind to be.)
the sound of poorly pronounced spanish draws his attention back to faraday and the cards in his hands, a lift of vasquez's eyebrow offering skepticism in response. ]
I am not sure "friendly" is part of your vocabulary, guero.
[ more than two syllables, after all. ]
No stakes — so you won't start to cheat when you lose?
[ that toothy grin is back, smoothed out a touch by the whiskey he's more than happily imbibed alongside the gambler. ]
u got it amigo
(but maybe a little bit of glee.)
fighting beside faraday, however? oh, now that's another oddity that leaves him rankled at first. the gambler talks too much, drinks even more than that, and he provokes vasquez in all the wrong ways. but he'd so easily fallen into letting the other man keep those bullets off his back, just as he'd shot down any gun aimed right for faraday.
teamwork, strange as it was — even if, directly after the skirmish, he nearly has his pistol back in hand with a bullet ready for that very man he'd fought beside. just vasquez's nature, really, and at that point, what did he even owe this stranger that's come along with chisolm? why should he show restraint when faraday's spurring vasquez into a fight? he's not one to shrink from a challenge, but it's undoubtedly in both their favors when that spark is just as quickly doused by more immediate concerns.
but that night in the saloon is strangely lighthearted after the fact, and vasquez finds himself laughing alongside faraday, all sharp grins and whiskey-fueled jokes. he later realizes it's more than he's laughed in...well. a while. it feels good, if he's honest.
(not that he has any mind to be.)
the sound of poorly pronounced spanish draws his attention back to faraday and the cards in his hands, a lift of vasquez's eyebrow offering skepticism in response. ]
I am not sure "friendly" is part of your vocabulary, guero.
[ more than two syllables, after all. ]
No stakes — so you won't start to cheat when you lose?
[ that toothy grin is back, smoothed out a touch by the whiskey he's more than happily imbibed alongside the gambler. ]