[ Vasquez sips at his drink to maintain a careful hold on his expression, on his own apprehension about answering Faraday's questions. They've grown much closer in these weeks together, something Vasquez might almost willingly say broaches friendship, but he's also very cognizant of what he is. He's especially aware of how little trust already exists for vampires of any kind, and for all that he maintains he's nothing like Bogue and the vampires he's found up north, there are unavoidable similarities – and reasons why they're distrusted.
For whatever camaraderie he shares with Faraday over their "afflictions," the amount of time he's spent being what he is has almost entirely removed him from what he remembers of his mortal life. When he thinks of Coyotl, he doesn't recognize the man that came before; by comparison, Faraday is still very much who he's always been. Vasquez finds it hard to believe the curse has affected the man beneath the wolf, even if it's forced him to adapt his behavior.
Vasquez, meanwhile, has spent more time walking through blood than he ever did walking through sunshine. Lifetimes upon lifetimes, he's been this, more creature than man. The strangeness of circumstance now is that he'd previously made complete peace with the monster that he is, and he hadn't ached for humanity or companionship therein.
But sometimes, with Faraday – even with the others of the seven, with many of the people of Rose Creek – he feels seen for more than an unholy thing.
However, part of him is unsure of how much that depends on willfully forgetting the threat he poses. ]
[ A better man than Faraday might see the careful hold Vasquez has on his composure, might notice the deliberate choice of words and control over his body language, and realize that this was a sensitive topic that probably didn't warrant discussion at a table in a small town doggery.
Faraday, however, notices all those things, knows better than to push, but pushes anyway. ]
So you hypnotize 'em, but nicely.
[ A little lightly – at least at first.
His expression freezes for a second, and with as sluggish as the drink has made him, it finally occurs to him to ask, ]
Hold on. So after the full moon—?
[ When Vasquez needed blood to heal, and Faraday had offered up his own.
[ Vasquez offers a derisive snort, though instead of kicking Faraday under the table again, as he had in lighter moments, he doesn't seem willing to indulge that.
He does, however, see the instant Faraday seems to be putting two and two together – even if they far from make "four," in this circumstance. Vasquez is actually— startled by the initial, intense flare in his chest with that truncated question, with what weighs heavily unsaid. It almost feels like indignation, like he's offended Faraday even feels like he has to ask—
But then he reminds himself that night had been at the beginning of their odd friendship; for all that he'd spent the night babysitting the wolf and dealing with the damage it inflicted, it's probably fair to wonder if Vasquez, with no reason to refrain, would have just suggested that Faraday give him enough to tide himself over. Without much in the way of loyalty, what was to stop Vasquez from insinuating the idea into Faraday's mind?
Maybe wondering that is fair.
So why does it sting?
Vasquez sets his glass down, and though a muscle in his jaw tics with grit teeth, he keeps his tone level. ]
[ Faraday isn't so far gone, it seems, that he doesn't miss the sharp reaction Vasquez has to the question. In the daylight hours, he made his money at card tables, learned how to read the subtle hints in the way people held themselves, in the way the timbre of their voices shifted.
It's why he holds up his good hand – an abbreviated version of the universal gesture for don't shoot. ]
Was just wonderin' aloud.
[ And he says it mildly, in hopes of pulling Vasquez back from that prickly edge.
Although it would be just like Faraday, he figures, to alienate the one crazy son of a bitch who seems able, if not willing, to put up with his stupid shit.
It's nothing short of a miracle that Vasquez has stuck around this long – and Faraday is too afraid to ask him what's kept him here. ]
Considerin' the damage the wolf did to you, I wouldn't blame you for wantin' to collect a toll.
[ Fortunately for them both, Faraday doesn't seem to question the authenticity of Vasquez's answer, and some of the defensive edge falls away from Vasquez's posture. He's still watching Faraday instead of lazily surveying the room (looking for tells of his own), but he eases back in his seat. ]
I don't make a habit of trying to convince someone unwilling.
[ He gives a short wave of his hand. ]
Scared, nervous – it means it hurts more, and it's harder to make them forget.
[ And since he's not trying to leave a trail of dead wherever he goes, it's not the best practice. ]
Like you say, the wolf is not you. No reason to take it out on the man and not the beast.
[ He manages to find a little lightness as he sips his drink, ]
Unconsciously, he runs his hand along his neck, right where he remembers Vasquez sinking in those impossibly sharp teeth.
He remembers it hurting plenty, which lends credence to the vampire's claim that he didn't trick Faraday into anything. Or maybe Vasquez was pissed off enough about the course of the night that he had decided to be a little petty.
Either way, it seems to satisfy Faraday's need for an answer, and he doesn't offer up any more resistance to that particular line of questioning.
He pauses as he brings the glass to his lips again, when Vasquez makes that distinction – he can count on one hand the number of people who are willing to see the difference between a man and his curse, and Faraday would still have fingers leftover. Most folks only see them as being one in the same – and admittedly, most nights, they'd be right. But on the bad nights, the ones that left a man a mere shadow of himself – those were the ones that made folks far less understanding of the difference.
Not that he blamed them. He's heard more than enough stories of werewolves on full moons to know why folks like him are so hated, why he needs to be so careful.
Still, he can't help the quick flash of sincere gratitude that crosses his face – though he rolls with Vasquez's attempt at levity.
Dryly, ]
Oh, believe me, amigo, I remember.
[ Or more specifically, he remembers the aftermath. ]
[ The combined cooling on both sides saws away the rest of Vasquez's wariness, and he looks more properly relaxed in his seat. ]
Good.
[ He sounds completely unremorseful – because the wolf was being a particular pain in his ass, and he'd completely earned whatever he got. Vasquez may tease Faraday about his connection to the wolf, but he knows there's a line of separation; he's seen it keenly in the nights Faraday has been more fully himself, when Vasquez can see the stubborn mule of a man shining through those big gold eyes.
[ He swallows down a mouthful of whiskey, smiling a little ruefully around it. ]
I think we both know it ain't a question of "if."
[ He shifts in his chair, easing out his bad leg when it starts to protest his position. He's been in the saloon longer than his body appreciates – it would, in all probability, prefer to be reclined after so long – but he knew that if he spent any minute longer in his room, it would be Faraday ripping down the walls, not the wolf. ]
Condition I'm in, there's every possibility it won't put up much of a fight.
[ And he says it slowly, stifling a sharp exhale when he finds a relatively more comfortable position. ]
Could just stick it in the shed again. Hope for the best.
[ He breathes it out, a laugh in his voice. He reaches for his glass, empties it in a few greedy swallows. The burn travels down his throat and he waits, letting that warm numbness slowly suffuse his limbs. ]
[ The use of his mother tongue earns Vasquez a low level look, but beyond that, Faraday doesn't offer any further complaint.
He thinks he can figure that one out with his context clues, anyway.
The polite thing would be to offer Vasquez more of the bottle, despite his words.
But Faraday is not known for his manners.
He's artificially imperious when he says, ]
Well, if you insist.
[ Faraday takes him at his word, refilling his own glass with a surprisingly steady hand. He keeps his gaze fixed on the pour when he carefully offers, ]
Suppose I'll just say it now, so we're both aware of the terms while I'm in my right mind.
[ He sets the bottle aside to tap the side of his neck, where he remembers Vasquez sinking in his fangs. ]
If you're sure on ridin' out the full moon with me, you can take what you need as recompense, so long as you leave me enough to work with.
[ Vasquez watches Faraday refilling his glass, honestly impressed that he isn't splashing the whiskey all over the table.
The man really can hold his liquor.
The lead-in has him prepared for Faraday to lay out some expectation that Vasquez keep his teeth to himself or that he avoid even considering "convincing" Faraday into letting him feed (not that Vasquez ever would).
The actual offer catches him completely off guard.
Accepting doesn't come immediately, and Vasquez studies Faraday's face, looking for... he has no idea what. ]
[ He picks up his glass, examining the contents, which has the happy consequence of allowing him to avoid Vasquez's gaze. ]
I saw what happened last time. What it did to you.
[ There's the slightest thread of guilt in his voice. As insistent as he may be that he and the wolf are two separate entities, that doesn't stop him from being responsible for whatever the wolf does. ]
If it happens again, then I'm obliged to set it right.
[ It's... fair. Faraday has a reasonable point; if Vasquez is injured minding the wolf, it makes sense that he be able to recover from those wounds, given that he can.
But again, Vasquez understands the aversion to what he is. He understands how distasteful the idea of blood drinking may be.
He's just startled that Faraday is willing to overcome that for fair play. ]
... All right.
[ He nods once, tries to offer something vaguely lighter, ]
[ He snorts, his mood buoyed, apparently, by the spirits in his system. ]
Crawl out of that stupid room, just to end up six feet under.
[ He shifts again, slouching in his chair and stretching out his legs, eating up space. He takes his glass with him, mindlessly tilting it to slowly swirl the whiskey. ]
S'pose you'd know all about life's weird bullshit– [ An unintentional echo, since he has no idea what Vasquez just said in his mother tongue. ] –considering you've been at this a while.
[ Not that Faraday knows exactly how old Vasquez is, or how long he's existed as a vampire. Still, he gets a faint idea – from the quieter moments, when he sees something in Vasquez's eyes, like he's slightly removed from it all. ]
[ As Faraday makes himself comfortable, practically filling every inch of space he can, Vasquez readjusts in his chair, leaning to rest his elbow on on the back of it. ]
I've seen a lot of it, sí.
[ Perhaps the understatement of the century. Or of the last couple of them.
And with a sharper, teasing grin, ]
You might still be some of its weirdest, my friend.
[ Faraday hums, nodding sagely as he sips more of his whiskey. ]
On account of me turning into a wolf and, occasionally, wanting to eat people.
[ He's never talked about his curse so flippantly before – hell, he's never talked about his curse with anyone, full stop.
This experience with Rose Creek has been strange, even if it's also been strangely freeing. Everyone knows exactly what he is, and while he can tell more than a few folks are still wary, he also knows that they don't intend to chase him out of town or shoot him dead. Once he leaves – because there's clearly no way he could stay – he's going to sincerely miss that. ]
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no subject
So you... bewitch them? Hypnotize them?
[ Perhaps surprisingly for Faraday, he still casts the question with curiosity – an attempt to understand, rather than pass judgement.
Hell, what room does Faraday have to judge? The wolf is happy to tear people apart, with or without pain.
... not that the wolf usually leaves much choice in the matter. ]
no subject
For whatever camaraderie he shares with Faraday over their "afflictions," the amount of time he's spent being what he is has almost entirely removed him from what he remembers of his mortal life. When he thinks of Coyotl, he doesn't recognize the man that came before; by comparison, Faraday is still very much who he's always been. Vasquez finds it hard to believe the curse has affected the man beneath the wolf, even if it's forced him to adapt his behavior.
Vasquez, meanwhile, has spent more time walking through blood than he ever did walking through sunshine. Lifetimes upon lifetimes, he's been this, more creature than man. The strangeness of circumstance now is that he'd previously made complete peace with the monster that he is, and he hadn't ached for humanity or companionship therein.
But sometimes, with Faraday – even with the others of the seven, with many of the people of Rose Creek – he feels seen for more than an unholy thing.
However, part of him is unsure of how much that depends on willfully forgetting the threat he poses. ]
Yes, like hypnotizing.
[ The simplest answer. ]
But it's more suggestion than force.
no subject
Faraday, however, notices all those things, knows better than to push, but pushes anyway. ]
So you hypnotize 'em, but nicely.
[ A little lightly – at least at first.
His expression freezes for a second, and with as sluggish as the drink has made him, it finally occurs to him to ask, ]
Hold on. So after the full moon—?
[ When Vasquez needed blood to heal, and Faraday had offered up his own.
Was that you? hangs unspoken between them. ]
no subject
He does, however, see the instant Faraday seems to be putting two and two together – even if they far from make "four," in this circumstance. Vasquez is actually— startled by the initial, intense flare in his chest with that truncated question, with what weighs heavily unsaid. It almost feels like indignation, like he's offended Faraday even feels like he has to ask—
But then he reminds himself that night had been at the beginning of their odd friendship; for all that he'd spent the night babysitting the wolf and dealing with the damage it inflicted, it's probably fair to wonder if Vasquez, with no reason to refrain, would have just suggested that Faraday give him enough to tide himself over. Without much in the way of loyalty, what was to stop Vasquez from insinuating the idea into Faraday's mind?
Maybe wondering that is fair.
So why does it sting?
Vasquez sets his glass down, and though a muscle in his jaw tics with grit teeth, he keeps his tone level. ]
No.
That was your own idea.
no subject
It's why he holds up his good hand – an abbreviated version of the universal gesture for don't shoot. ]
Was just wonderin' aloud.
[ And he says it mildly, in hopes of pulling Vasquez back from that prickly edge.
Although it would be just like Faraday, he figures, to alienate the one crazy son of a bitch who seems able, if not willing, to put up with his stupid shit.
It's nothing short of a miracle that Vasquez has stuck around this long – and Faraday is too afraid to ask him what's kept him here. ]
Considerin' the damage the wolf did to you, I wouldn't blame you for wantin' to collect a toll.
no subject
I don't make a habit of trying to convince someone unwilling.
[ He gives a short wave of his hand. ]
Scared, nervous – it means it hurts more, and it's harder to make them forget.
[ And since he's not trying to leave a trail of dead wherever he goes, it's not the best practice. ]
Like you say, the wolf is not you. No reason to take it out on the man and not the beast.
[ He manages to find a little lightness as he sips his drink, ]
And I already bit the wolf.
no subject
Unconsciously, he runs his hand along his neck, right where he remembers Vasquez sinking in those impossibly sharp teeth.
He remembers it hurting plenty, which lends credence to the vampire's claim that he didn't trick Faraday into anything. Or maybe Vasquez was pissed off enough about the course of the night that he had decided to be a little petty.
Either way, it seems to satisfy Faraday's need for an answer, and he doesn't offer up any more resistance to that particular line of questioning.
He pauses as he brings the glass to his lips again, when Vasquez makes that distinction – he can count on one hand the number of people who are willing to see the difference between a man and his curse, and Faraday would still have fingers leftover. Most folks only see them as being one in the same – and admittedly, most nights, they'd be right. But on the bad nights, the ones that left a man a mere shadow of himself – those were the ones that made folks far less understanding of the difference.
Not that he blamed them. He's heard more than enough stories of werewolves on full moons to know why folks like him are so hated, why he needs to be so careful.
Still, he can't help the quick flash of sincere gratitude that crosses his face – though he rolls with Vasquez's attempt at levity.
Dryly, ]
Oh, believe me, amigo, I remember.
[ Or more specifically, he remembers the aftermath. ]
It hurt like hell.
no subject
Good.
[ He sounds completely unremorseful – because the wolf was being a particular pain in his ass, and he'd completely earned whatever he got. Vasquez may tease Faraday about his connection to the wolf, but he knows there's a line of separation; he's seen it keenly in the nights Faraday has been more fully himself, when Vasquez can see the stubborn mule of a man shining through those big gold eyes.
It's clear when the line starts to blur. ]
And I'll do it again if tu lobo bites first.
no subject
I think we both know it ain't a question of "if."
[ He shifts in his chair, easing out his bad leg when it starts to protest his position. He's been in the saloon longer than his body appreciates – it would, in all probability, prefer to be reclined after so long – but he knew that if he spent any minute longer in his room, it would be Faraday ripping down the walls, not the wolf. ]
Condition I'm in, there's every possibility it won't put up much of a fight.
[ And he says it slowly, stifling a sharp exhale when he finds a relatively more comfortable position. ]
Could just stick it in the shed again. Hope for the best.
no subject
[ But Vasquez isn't opposed to the option, especially if it makes the night easier.
He watches Faraday readjusting, taking careful stock of how he moves, the little strain in his voice. Sure, it's not his place to fuss, but—
Apparently, that doesn't mean he won't. ]
You all right, perro?
no subject
[ He breathes it out, a laugh in his voice. He reaches for his glass, empties it in a few greedy swallows. The burn travels down his throat and he waits, letting that warm numbness slowly suffuse his limbs. ]
Haven't drunk enough yet.
no subject
You better not whine when I have to carry you out of this place.
no subject
[ He nearly sounds offended, but the slight quirk to the corner of his mouth shows he doesn't mind all that much. ]
I know how to handle my liquor, Vas. Been dealin' with this thing a lot longer'n I've known you.
no subject
Lo que digas.
[ He finishes his glass, then gestures to the bottle. ]
Keep the rest. I think you need it more than me.
no subject
He thinks he can figure that one out with his context clues, anyway.
The polite thing would be to offer Vasquez more of the bottle, despite his words.
But Faraday is not known for his manners.
He's artificially imperious when he says, ]
Well, if you insist.
[ Faraday takes him at his word, refilling his own glass with a surprisingly steady hand. He keeps his gaze fixed on the pour when he carefully offers, ]
Suppose I'll just say it now, so we're both aware of the terms while I'm in my right mind.
[ He sets the bottle aside to tap the side of his neck, where he remembers Vasquez sinking in his fangs. ]
If you're sure on ridin' out the full moon with me, you can take what you need as recompense, so long as you leave me enough to work with.
Wolf or otherwise.
no subject
The man really can hold his liquor.
The lead-in has him prepared for Faraday to lay out some expectation that Vasquez keep his teeth to himself or that he avoid even considering "convincing" Faraday into letting him feed (not that Vasquez ever would).
The actual offer catches him completely off guard.
Accepting doesn't come immediately, and Vasquez studies Faraday's face, looking for... he has no idea what. ]
You're sure?
no subject
I saw what happened last time. What it did to you.
[ There's the slightest thread of guilt in his voice. As insistent as he may be that he and the wolf are two separate entities, that doesn't stop him from being responsible for whatever the wolf does. ]
If it happens again, then I'm obliged to set it right.
no subject
But again, Vasquez understands the aversion to what he is. He understands how distasteful the idea of blood drinking may be.
He's just startled that Faraday is willing to overcome that for fair play. ]
... All right.
[ He nods once, tries to offer something vaguely lighter, ]
I can promise you won't die, perro.
no subject
Wouldn't that just be the way, though? You dig through my guts to save my life, only to have me as a morning snack.
It'd be a funny sorta irony.
no subject
Ay, perro, la vida es una pendejada, y lo demás es consecuencia de la misma.
[ He raps the table with his knuckle once. ]
Would be just your luck after all this time being stuck in your bed, eh?
no subject
Crawl out of that stupid room, just to end up six feet under.
[ He shifts again, slouching in his chair and stretching out his legs, eating up space. He takes his glass with him, mindlessly tilting it to slowly swirl the whiskey. ]
S'pose you'd know all about life's weird bullshit– [ An unintentional echo, since he has no idea what Vasquez just said in his mother tongue. ] –considering you've been at this a while.
[ Not that Faraday knows exactly how old Vasquez is, or how long he's existed as a vampire. Still, he gets a faint idea – from the quieter moments, when he sees something in Vasquez's eyes, like he's slightly removed from it all. ]
no subject
I've seen a lot of it, sí.
[ Perhaps the understatement of the century. Or of the last couple of them.
And with a sharper, teasing grin, ]
You might still be some of its weirdest, my friend.
no subject
[ With all the false modesty his frame can muster. ]
I find that difficult to believe.
no subject
None quite like you.
[ And his tone is still light, but there's an underlying truth to it that not even Vasquez seems to truly grasp. ]
no subject
On account of me turning into a wolf and, occasionally, wanting to eat people.
[ He's never talked about his curse so flippantly before – hell, he's never talked about his curse with anyone, full stop.
This experience with Rose Creek has been strange, even if it's also been strangely freeing. Everyone knows exactly what he is, and while he can tell more than a few folks are still wary, he also knows that they don't intend to chase him out of town or shoot him dead. Once he leaves – because there's clearly no way he could stay – he's going to sincerely miss that. ]
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