[ miracle of miracles, but emma actually laughs. it's just a soft chuckle, quiet, but definitely a laugh. that...that feels good. it's nice to take just a moment to stop thinking about death and blood and revenge -- just a moment to appreciate someone else's company.
she's oddly pleased by faraday's offer of comraderie, and he does have a point: they'll be fighting together (because she sure isn't going to be cowed by sam), and maybe a degree of familiarity will make that easier. ]
Then if we're to be fellows, do you mean to call me by my name?
[ the cock of her eyebrow, the expectation in her look doesn't come off as icy or vicious -- it's more of a sassy challenge than anything.
she's enjoying the banter, and it exposes a crack in emma's impenetrable armor, the way she hides behind her determination and burning rage. emma is made of fire, but given the opportunity, her quick tongue can be just as witty as it is brutal.
but in this moment, she's letting part of herself slip, and it means that faraday gets to see it. ]
[ Another first, and Faraday laughs along with her, though it's little more than a quick exhale of a breath through his nose. His weight shifts to one leg as he crosses his arms over his chest, taking her challenge for what it is. ]
Hadn't thought that far, tell you the truth.
[ It's different, talking to Emma. The other men take his bullshit in stride, shrug it off with barks of laughter or exasperated little shakes of their head. Truth to tell, he feels a need to puff out his chest, to put on a show to seem like he belongs with the array of veritable giants Chisolm assembled. A legend and his terrifying friend. An outlaw wanted for murder. A savage. An actual bear with Bible verses tattooed on the back of his eyes. Hard to live up to that kind of infamy.
It's not exactly easier with Emma; it's just a different sort of show, but it's refreshing, all the same. ]
I expect you're more comfortable if I call you Mrs. Cullen, still?
[ emma actually considers the question for a moment, her smile fading slightly as she looks back towards the tree she'd so recently sunk bullets into. it's the freshness of it, she decides, that she still feels so strongly like matthew's wife. it hasn't even been near a full month that her husband's been dead, but the reality of it occasionally hits her like a steam engine.
she's a widow now.
...oh, but that aches every time she thinks it. ]
Mmm.
[ it's less of an answer, and more of an acknowledgement that he's spoken. ]
But would you be that same kind of formal with someone else you fight beside?
[ there's a touch of avoidance in her answer, but it sure doesn't carry the same kind of immediate, snappish correction she might have given him before. obviously "mrs. cullen" is appropriate, polite, but she considers that it's an awful lot of formality when they could both easily die in the next few days.
boy, if that wasn't jarring to realize all over again. ]
[ The change in her mood feels like a slap in the face, and Faraday frowns when he sees the second he loses her to her thoughts. He touched a nerve there, that much he can tell; the wounds are still too recent to pick at them. He should've known better.
He lets her keep her silence, watching her from the corner of his eye with the sharpness of any marksman, and simply waits. The damage has been done, but he's not fool enough to think anything he can say would smooth it over.
At her question, he offers a quiet, considering hum, nudging at a hard clump of dirt with the toe of his boot. ]
S'pose I wouldn't.
[ He would, in fact, call his fellows by a whole lot of names that would make a more civilized person swoon. Probably not appropriate for a woman who's only barely started to tolerate him. ]
How 'bout you tell me what I should call you, and we'll stick with that?
[ belatedly, emma realizes she's let the tone of the moment drop sharply, but the intense and immediate reminder of matthew's death was difficult to reconcile. she doesn't especially hold it against faraday, because she knows it couldn't have been an intentional move, but it stings all the same.
her jaw sets, the flicker of good humor fading back into the stony determination that practically wafts off of her. she has so much to fight for in the coming days, so much pain she owes bogue for what he's done to her and rose creek, and it's hard to allow herself too much of that lightness in mood -- not until this is all over.
however, it does say something that faraday is the one who's drawn it out, who managed to bring a real smile to emma's lips and get her to laugh -- damn impressive, is what it is. ]
I think "Miss Emma" will do me just fine.
[ redrawing the gun holstered at her hip, emma takes the stance faraday showed her, aims once again for the tree, and fires quick and fierce. three bullets slam into the dead wooden trunk, splintering it and leaving a small trail of smoke behind, demonstrating that she sure didn't miss.
glancing up at faraday with the revolver still trained on the three, she adds: ] And if we live, it might just be "Emma" instead.
[ He lets out a breath, something close to quiet chuckle, and lifts his eyebrows. ]
Well, then, Miss Emma. That's certainly an incentive to pull through this, if I ever heard one.
[ His voice stays bright, even if hers doesn't. Not because he's trying to recapture the previous mood – that ship has long since sailed, and Faraday lets it go without any resentment – but because it's the tone he strikes by default. Easier to go through life playing the joker.
The revolver in his crossdraw holster practically leaps into his hand, and Faraday shoots from the hip. Four bullets in a tight spread, fired in the span of a breath. He grins – of course he'd be the type to find pride in his own skill – and looks at her askance. ]
You know I'm gonna be holdin' you to that, now, right?
[ not that emma is one prone to needless praise, but damn, faraday sure can shoot. she admittedly never expects to get to that level of skill with a revolver, but she'll never truly begrudge that; it's not where her expertise lies, and she's perfectly content to be a decent shot with a pistol and deadly as hell with a rifle. ]
If we both make it out alive, I'd say you must have earned it.
[ her expression is still solemn, but there's a flash of hope in her words; she doesn't want to consider the possibility of losing, because so much of her is determined to see rose creek free and bogue's body dumped in the middle of the desert. there isn't room to accept defeat, and even if she dies, even if faraday dies, she wants to know that the town won't be taken.
she has faith, and that's what really matters to her. ]
But don't go thinkin' we have that kind of familiarity elsewise, Faraday.
[ she slides her gun back into her hip holster, resting her hand comfortably on it as she fixes faraday with a stern look. like she said, faraday has to earn that from her, but saving the day and escaping with their lives seems to be a fair enough trade. ]
[ He lifts both hands from his belt again, that same stance of surrender which is belied by the amusement dancing in his eyes. ]
I make no such assumptions, I assure you. But trust me, Miss Emma, I plan on claiming that prize, soon as the smoke clears.
[ Not that Faraday has any illusions about his part in the fight, or his chances in surviving to see the other side. They're fighting a war with a handful of soldiers against Bogue's army; to expect he might live is foolish, at best.
Hope, though. That's an entirely different animal. He hopes he lives, knows full well his chances are slim, but somehow, Faraday finds peace with that. He may seem a self-serving, cocky bastard at the best of times, but he's no coward. He sees the job in front of him and knows what he has to do, knows he has folks depending on him to play his role. Horne might say Faraday's sense of serenity has to do with helping his fellow man, finding purpose in laying down his life that others may live, cite some verse to bolster his claim. And maybe there's truth to it.
And it's foolish, maybe, making these little promises and bets, but there's no harm in hope, is there? ]
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no subject
she's oddly pleased by faraday's offer of comraderie, and he does have a point: they'll be fighting together (because she sure isn't going to be cowed by sam), and maybe a degree of familiarity will make that easier. ]
Then if we're to be fellows, do you mean to call me by my name?
[ the cock of her eyebrow, the expectation in her look doesn't come off as icy or vicious -- it's more of a sassy challenge than anything.
she's enjoying the banter, and it exposes a crack in emma's impenetrable armor, the way she hides behind her determination and burning rage. emma is made of fire, but given the opportunity, her quick tongue can be just as witty as it is brutal.
but in this moment, she's letting part of herself slip, and it means that faraday gets to see it. ]
no subject
Hadn't thought that far, tell you the truth.
[ It's different, talking to Emma. The other men take his bullshit in stride, shrug it off with barks of laughter or exasperated little shakes of their head. Truth to tell, he feels a need to puff out his chest, to put on a show to seem like he belongs with the array of veritable giants Chisolm assembled. A legend and his terrifying friend. An outlaw wanted for murder. A savage. An actual bear with Bible verses tattooed on the back of his eyes. Hard to live up to that kind of infamy.
It's not exactly easier with Emma; it's just a different sort of show, but it's refreshing, all the same. ]
I expect you're more comfortable if I call you Mrs. Cullen, still?
no subject
she's a widow now.
...oh, but that aches every time she thinks it. ]
Mmm.
[ it's less of an answer, and more of an acknowledgement that he's spoken. ]
But would you be that same kind of formal with someone else you fight beside?
[ there's a touch of avoidance in her answer, but it sure doesn't carry the same kind of immediate, snappish correction she might have given him before. obviously "mrs. cullen" is appropriate, polite, but she considers that it's an awful lot of formality when they could both easily die in the next few days.
boy, if that wasn't jarring to realize all over again. ]
no subject
He lets her keep her silence, watching her from the corner of his eye with the sharpness of any marksman, and simply waits. The damage has been done, but he's not fool enough to think anything he can say would smooth it over.
At her question, he offers a quiet, considering hum, nudging at a hard clump of dirt with the toe of his boot. ]
S'pose I wouldn't.
[ He would, in fact, call his fellows by a whole lot of names that would make a more civilized person swoon. Probably not appropriate for a woman who's only barely started to tolerate him. ]
How 'bout you tell me what I should call you, and we'll stick with that?
no subject
her jaw sets, the flicker of good humor fading back into the stony determination that practically wafts off of her. she has so much to fight for in the coming days, so much pain she owes bogue for what he's done to her and rose creek, and it's hard to allow herself too much of that lightness in mood -- not until this is all over.
however, it does say something that faraday is the one who's drawn it out, who managed to bring a real smile to emma's lips and get her to laugh -- damn impressive, is what it is. ]
I think "Miss Emma" will do me just fine.
[ redrawing the gun holstered at her hip, emma takes the stance faraday showed her, aims once again for the tree, and fires quick and fierce. three bullets slam into the dead wooden trunk, splintering it and leaving a small trail of smoke behind, demonstrating that she sure didn't miss.
glancing up at faraday with the revolver still trained on the three, she adds: ] And if we live, it might just be "Emma" instead.
[ maybe.]
no subject
Well, then, Miss Emma. That's certainly an incentive to pull through this, if I ever heard one.
[ His voice stays bright, even if hers doesn't. Not because he's trying to recapture the previous mood – that ship has long since sailed, and Faraday lets it go without any resentment – but because it's the tone he strikes by default. Easier to go through life playing the joker.
The revolver in his crossdraw holster practically leaps into his hand, and Faraday shoots from the hip. Four bullets in a tight spread, fired in the span of a breath. He grins – of course he'd be the type to find pride in his own skill – and looks at her askance. ]
You know I'm gonna be holdin' you to that, now, right?
no subject
If we both make it out alive, I'd say you must have earned it.
[ her expression is still solemn, but there's a flash of hope in her words; she doesn't want to consider the possibility of losing, because so much of her is determined to see rose creek free and bogue's body dumped in the middle of the desert. there isn't room to accept defeat, and even if she dies, even if faraday dies, she wants to know that the town won't be taken.
she has faith, and that's what really matters to her. ]
But don't go thinkin' we have that kind of familiarity elsewise, Faraday.
[ she slides her gun back into her hip holster, resting her hand comfortably on it as she fixes faraday with a stern look. like she said, faraday has to earn that from her, but saving the day and escaping with their lives seems to be a fair enough trade. ]
no subject
I make no such assumptions, I assure you. But trust me, Miss Emma, I plan on claiming that prize, soon as the smoke clears.
[ Not that Faraday has any illusions about his part in the fight, or his chances in surviving to see the other side. They're fighting a war with a handful of soldiers against Bogue's army; to expect he might live is foolish, at best.
Hope, though. That's an entirely different animal. He hopes he lives, knows full well his chances are slim, but somehow, Faraday finds peace with that. He may seem a self-serving, cocky bastard at the best of times, but he's no coward. He sees the job in front of him and knows what he has to do, knows he has folks depending on him to play his role. Horne might say Faraday's sense of serenity has to do with helping his fellow man, finding purpose in laying down his life that others may live, cite some verse to bolster his claim. And maybe there's truth to it.
And it's foolish, maybe, making these little promises and bets, but there's no harm in hope, is there? ]