[ His hands still on the cards at that question, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown. ]
... Hadn't thought on it, if I'm honest.
[ Which is only half true. He had tried, in those early days, but found himself tethered in some way to something in the town, though he could never quite find the source. His body, maybe, or what was left of it, rotting away on the hill.
But wandering too far made him feel— strange. Uncomfortable. Sent something buzzing through him – that tingling sensation like his entire body is on the verge of going numb. He hasn't pressed it since then, too afraid to test his luck. ]
[ emma is trying not to let the...relief she feels become obvious. not that she necessarily wishes for him to find himself trapped in a town not his own, but the idea of watching him leave is so unpleasant that it almost makes her— ache? ]
Do you find that bothers you much?
[ because she knows how he used to move near constantly, picking himself up and going on to the next place over and over again, but— he's been here for a while now, and she's amazed it hasn't set him more on edge.
she's also completely forgotten to keep eating at this point, too distracted by the tricks and now by their conversation — not that she minds much. ]
[ His frown deepens a little more as he considers his answer. ]
Not as much as it should.
[ Because, yes, in life, he was used to moving from place to place, struck by an insistent sense of wanderlust. The need to keep himself from settling, growing roots and getting stuck.
Now, though, that need isn't quite so keen, doesn't jab into his gut like a pair of spurs.
In all likelihood, that need to keep moving wasn't so much a desire to explore as it was a desire to run. To keep his troubles at a distance as he wreathed himself in a whiskey fog. He had fewer things to run from, now, being six feet under.
He lifts his gaze up to her, eyebrow quirking as he puts on a bit of a smirk. ]
Careful, there. You're startin' to sound like you're tryin' to get rid'a' me.
[ again, there's a swell of relief in emma. he's been there with her long enough that if he was getting tired of it, she's sure he would have already, but— it's nice to know he doesn't mind sticking around.
her lips quirk a touch, and she gives a dismissive shrug. ]
If I was meanin' to get rid of you, I'm sure I'd've done it ages ago.
[ as far as she can tell, she's stuck with him.
and she likes it that way.
she's closer to him than she is to any of the townspeople (strange as that is to think), and he's done so much for her well-being since his first appearance. those six months alone had been...unpleasant, to say the least, far harder than she'd expected — to go from seeing matthew every day to...nothing.
but here faraday is, filling in those gaps in her life. and she's grateful for it. ]
At least it's in your favor you're not gettin' on my nerves too often.
[ there's that teasing edge in her voice, the little grin tugging at her lips, and she finally goes back to her small lunch to polish it off. ]
[ He initially expects she means to blind him again, and he reaches up to grab her wrist.
He doesn't very hard, mind, which is why she makes off with his hat. For a second, he just blinks at her, surprised, then goes right back into his usual flat gaze. ]
See? This right here. This is the type'a' thing a less kind poltergeist might take offense to. If you'd'a gotten stuck with anyone but me, they'd be makin' a racket with rattlin' chains or spoilin' your food.
[ she doesn't even think about it as she shakes off faraday's hand — mostly, the physical contact has become expected these days. small gestures, certainly, but still contact of some kind.
she likes it, if she's honest. ]
You rattle any chains, and I'm hidin' the cards.
[ a completely fair exchange, in emma's mind.
she just tips up the brim of the hat, adjusting it properly on her head. ]
And besides that, I reckon whatever I manage is deserved, pain that you like to be.
[ The answer is near immediate, eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth turned down. Not much of a warning, though, considering the way his eyes glitter with amusement. ]
And you keep sayin' all that, but I maintain that I have and will continue to conduct myself in a manner befitting of a fine, upstandin' gentleman. Completely undeserving of the troubles you repeatedly heap onto my shoulders.
I cannot think of a single thing I might have done that warranted this cruel sort of treatment.
[ emma scoffs as she gets up from her chair, carrying her plate back to the kitchen. ]
Joshua Faraday, a gentleman?
[ after she sets aside her dishes, she leans against her counter, arms crossing over her chest. the hat is a bit too big for her, so she has to push the brim up again, but she hardly seems to mind, a smile still in the corners of her lips. ]
Seems like you delight in tellin' all sorts of half-truths just as much as I do heaping these "troubles" on an ill-treated man such as yourself. What a difficult life you lead, truly.
[ The corner of his mouth quirks upward as his hat threatens to tip down in front of her face, even as he tries to maintain that flat, innocent look. He leans back, tipping the chair slightly on its back two legs, his arm resting on the back of his chair as she regards him. ]
Now you're just slingin' mud. Those are patent falsehoods, Emma Cullen. Bald-faced lies.
And I certainly don't see you treatin' any other folks the way you treat me. It's on account of my open, trustin' face, ain't it? Makes you think you can take such terrible advantage of my good nature.
You're as good-natured as a soakin' wet cat, Faraday — and you're caterwaulin' just the same.
[ she shakes her head, and the hat slips down again; she pushes it up with a small huff, peering out at him from under the brim. ]
Maybe I don't treat folks the same because I don't like them half as much as you. Or maybe I just enjoy seein' you sulk so magnificently.
[ probably a little of both, honestly. it takes a lot to get emma to tease someone like this, for her to be comfortable enough trading the friendly insults. she enjoys verbal sparring otherwise, of course, but this? this has a certain fondness to it that's been reserved near exclusively for faraday.
and she also gets a great deal of joy out of the dramatic expressions she drags out of him, to boot. ]
[ Speaking of dramatic expressions, he trots out another one of those pinched sort of looks, eyebrows knitting together and nose wrinkling. He flicks a card at her with surprising precision. ]
I do not sulk.
[ he says, sulkily, while sulking. ]
You got a funny way of showin' a man your fondness.
[ emma has more than enough practice keeping her expression composed, fortunately for her, because otherwise, she'd likely be in stitches over the look on faraday's face. ]
And how exactly would you prefer I demonstrate instead?
[ she goes to pick up the card he flicked at her, but doesn't bring it back to him.
[ emma looks like she's considering it for a moment, rubbing her chin slightly in contemplation. ]
I reckon I could do that.
[ she pushes away from the counter, stepping up to faraday in the chair. she stands beside him, pulling the hat off of her head to set it lightly on his own — but instead of cocking it or yanking it over his eyes, she just delicately straightens it out. ]
[ As she approaches, his eyes immediately glitter with suspicion, and he leans back a little. ]
Now, Emma—
[ Warning in his voice, because he clearly expects more of the same from earlier – except he’s pleasantly surprised when she merely settles it on his head, fixes it in its usual way. He looks up at her, some wry comment – “See how simple that was?” – on the tip of his tongue, except—
It occurs to him, right then, how close she is, and he realizes how close she ventured these days, now that a quick brush of his hand wouldn’t fill her to the gills with ice. And how odd that was, given their rocky start, when she had glared daggers at him in the light of a flickering fire, and he merely smirked in reply. She had hated him then, he’s reasonably sure. Not so much, these days, and for a man who had once prided himself on not giving a damn what others thought of him, he finds he’s oddly glad for it.
Death had a funny way of fixing things.
He clears his throat (an unnecessary gesture, but habit has him doing it, all the same), and lifts a hand to the front of his hat, adjusting the brim minutely. ]
I should hope so. [ He says it lightly, eyes flicking down to her stomach; holding her gaze, looking up at her face, made something tighten and flare in his chest – something he didn’t have a name for.
[ emma leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest with a slightly exasperated scoff. ]
Suits you? Rather it hides that self-satisfied look you wear so well.
[ things have changed with faraday — but so steadily that emma hardly pays it any mind to how effortlessly she stands near him now, how unbothered she tends to be by the moments of contact, how half-hearted even her annoyance with the man comes out. certainly, that irksome behavior hasn't vanished, and faraday is just as capable of the obnoxious antics that before would've inspired icy disdain from emma, but...
it's different now.
she's not sure when or how she'd become fond of the gambler, but the months and months that he'd spent in her home, by her side, had softened her to him — had made him important.
probably why the idea of him up and disappearing bothers her so terribly now. ]
And I think I could do with a touch less of that.
[ teasing. always teasing.
but she reaches to take a card from the deck, intends to just flick it right back at faraday — because she can. ]
[ Faraday’s always been quick on the draw, hands made fast by cards and guns alike. When he spots Emma going for the deck, his hand darts out to reach it first. He scoops it up and holds it high as he leans away. ]
Didn’t anyone tell you? You never touch another man’s prayer book without permission. It’s awful rude.
[ He leans back all the more, stretching his arm overhead and swapping the cards from one hand to the other. He may be sitting, but he still has some height on her, and long arms, to boot. ]
See, now? That lack of faith is exactly the reason why you ain’t touchin’ these. You’ll spoil ‘em.
Bad enough you already swiped away one of my cards earlier. I’m gonna have to resanctify it ‘fore I put it back in the deck.
[ The one she had so cruelly confiscated after he flicked it at her. ]
[ the difference in height and arm length doesn't stop emma from reaching anyway, and she just looks down at faraday with a huff. ]
Wouldn't you think I've touched them far often enough that any "spoiling" that's meant to occur already has?
[ because she already spends a great deal of time with those cards — though the one she's confiscated is staying in the pocket of her dress (for now. mostly just to mess with him). ]
Yeah, but you weren’t goin’ off at the mouth with that nonsense of yours before. Speakin’ it aloud is what jinxes it.
[ Faraday is also completely making this up as he goes, but he’s used to bullshitting, used to spouting off whatever first comes to mind as a distraction tactic. Sometimes, it works. Other times, it doesn’t. But it never stops him from trying, either way. ]
It’s like how puttin’ down a hat ain’t so bad, but settin’ it down on a bed drains out all the luck.
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no subject
... Hadn't thought on it, if I'm honest.
[ Which is only half true. He had tried, in those early days, but found himself tethered in some way to something in the town, though he could never quite find the source. His body, maybe, or what was left of it, rotting away on the hill.
But wandering too far made him feel— strange. Uncomfortable. Sent something buzzing through him – that tingling sensation like his entire body is on the verge of going numb. He hasn't pressed it since then, too afraid to test his luck. ]
Not rightly sure if I could, anyway.
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Do you find that bothers you much?
[ because she knows how he used to move near constantly, picking himself up and going on to the next place over and over again, but— he's been here for a while now, and she's amazed it hasn't set him more on edge.
she's also completely forgotten to keep eating at this point, too distracted by the tricks and now by their conversation — not that she minds much. ]
no subject
Not as much as it should.
[ Because, yes, in life, he was used to moving from place to place, struck by an insistent sense of wanderlust. The need to keep himself from settling, growing roots and getting stuck.
Now, though, that need isn't quite so keen, doesn't jab into his gut like a pair of spurs.
In all likelihood, that need to keep moving wasn't so much a desire to explore as it was a desire to run. To keep his troubles at a distance as he wreathed himself in a whiskey fog. He had fewer things to run from, now, being six feet under.
He lifts his gaze up to her, eyebrow quirking as he puts on a bit of a smirk. ]
Careful, there. You're startin' to sound like you're tryin' to get rid'a' me.
no subject
her lips quirk a touch, and she gives a dismissive shrug. ]
If I was meanin' to get rid of you, I'm sure I'd've done it ages ago.
[ as far as she can tell, she's stuck with him.
and she likes it that way.
she's closer to him than she is to any of the townspeople (strange as that is to think), and he's done so much for her well-being since his first appearance. those six months alone had been...unpleasant, to say the least, far harder than she'd expected — to go from seeing matthew every day to...nothing.
but here faraday is, filling in those gaps in her life. and she's grateful for it. ]
At least it's in your favor you're not gettin' on my nerves too often.
[ there's that teasing edge in her voice, the little grin tugging at her lips, and she finally goes back to her small lunch to polish it off. ]
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[ That prim sort of air returns, the hint of long-suffering patience. ]
You're lucky I'm so terribly benign, else this hauntin' would've been terribly unpleasant for the both of us.
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[ she rolls her eyes, but that prim look he's got is enough that she just up and reaches out to pluck the hat right off of his head.
...and then sets it on her own. ]
What mercy you've shown me all this time, Mister Faraday.
[ and she's trying her damnedest not to just grin at him or look too pleased with herself. ]
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He doesn't very hard, mind, which is why she makes off with his hat. For a second, he just blinks at her, surprised, then goes right back into his usual flat gaze. ]
See? This right here. This is the type'a' thing a less kind poltergeist might take offense to. If you'd'a gotten stuck with anyone but me, they'd be makin' a racket with rattlin' chains or spoilin' your food.
no subject
she likes it, if she's honest. ]
You rattle any chains, and I'm hidin' the cards.
[ a completely fair exchange, in emma's mind.
she just tips up the brim of the hat, adjusting it properly on her head. ]
And besides that, I reckon whatever I manage is deserved, pain that you like to be.
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[ The answer is near immediate, eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth turned down. Not much of a warning, though, considering the way his eyes glitter with amusement. ]
And you keep sayin' all that, but I maintain that I have and will continue to conduct myself in a manner befitting of a fine, upstandin' gentleman. Completely undeserving of the troubles you repeatedly heap onto my shoulders.
I cannot think of a single thing I might have done that warranted this cruel sort of treatment.
no subject
[ emma scoffs as she gets up from her chair, carrying her plate back to the kitchen. ]
Joshua Faraday, a gentleman?
[ after she sets aside her dishes, she leans against her counter, arms crossing over her chest. the hat is a bit too big for her, so she has to push the brim up again, but she hardly seems to mind, a smile still in the corners of her lips. ]
Seems like you delight in tellin' all sorts of half-truths just as much as I do heaping these "troubles" on an ill-treated man such as yourself. What a difficult life you lead, truly.
no subject
Now you're just slingin' mud. Those are patent falsehoods, Emma Cullen. Bald-faced lies.
And I certainly don't see you treatin' any other folks the way you treat me. It's on account of my open, trustin' face, ain't it? Makes you think you can take such terrible advantage of my good nature.
no subject
You're as good-natured as a soakin' wet cat, Faraday — and you're caterwaulin' just the same.
[ she shakes her head, and the hat slips down again; she pushes it up with a small huff, peering out at him from under the brim. ]
Maybe I don't treat folks the same because I don't like them half as much as you. Or maybe I just enjoy seein' you sulk so magnificently.
[ probably a little of both, honestly. it takes a lot to get emma to tease someone like this, for her to be comfortable enough trading the friendly insults. she enjoys verbal sparring otherwise, of course, but this? this has a certain fondness to it that's been reserved near exclusively for faraday.
and she also gets a great deal of joy out of the dramatic expressions she drags out of him, to boot. ]
no subject
I do not sulk.
[ he says, sulkily, while sulking. ]
You got a funny way of showin' a man your fondness.
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And how exactly would you prefer I demonstrate instead?
[ she goes to pick up the card he flicked at her, but doesn't bring it back to him.
the card has definitely been confiscated. ]
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[ He points an accusatory finger at her head, eyes still narrowed. ]
A good start would be bringin' my hat back.
[ because that is his. That is his hat. It belongs on his head. ]
'Sides, it ain't gonna do you much good, anyway, bein' invisible 'n' all.
no subject
I reckon I could do that.
[ she pushes away from the counter, stepping up to faraday in the chair. she stands beside him, pulling the hat off of her head to set it lightly on his own — but instead of cocking it or yanking it over his eyes, she just delicately straightens it out. ]
Fits you far better than it does me, anyway.
no subject
Now, Emma—
[ Warning in his voice, because he clearly expects more of the same from earlier – except he’s pleasantly surprised when she merely settles it on his head, fixes it in its usual way. He looks up at her, some wry comment – “See how simple that was?” – on the tip of his tongue, except—
It occurs to him, right then, how close she is, and he realizes how close she ventured these days, now that a quick brush of his hand wouldn’t fill her to the gills with ice. And how odd that was, given their rocky start, when she had glared daggers at him in the light of a flickering fire, and he merely smirked in reply. She had hated him then, he’s reasonably sure. Not so much, these days, and for a man who had once prided himself on not giving a damn what others thought of him, he finds he’s oddly glad for it.
Death had a funny way of fixing things.
He clears his throat (an unnecessary gesture, but habit has him doing it, all the same), and lifts a hand to the front of his hat, adjusting the brim minutely. ]
I should hope so. [ He says it lightly, eyes flicking down to her stomach; holding her gaze, looking up at her face, made something tighten and flare in his chest – something he didn’t have a name for.
Then, with a smug little smile, ]
Suits me better, too.
no subject
Suits you? Rather it hides that self-satisfied look you wear so well.
[ things have changed with faraday — but so steadily that emma hardly pays it any mind to how effortlessly she stands near him now, how unbothered she tends to be by the moments of contact, how half-hearted even her annoyance with the man comes out. certainly, that irksome behavior hasn't vanished, and faraday is just as capable of the obnoxious antics that before would've inspired icy disdain from emma, but...
it's different now.
she's not sure when or how she'd become fond of the gambler, but the months and months that he'd spent in her home, by her side, had softened her to him — had made him important.
probably why the idea of him up and disappearing bothers her so terribly now. ]
And I think I could do with a touch less of that.
[ teasing. always teasing.
but she reaches to take a card from the deck, intends to just flick it right back at faraday — because she can. ]
no subject
Didn’t anyone tell you? You never touch another man’s prayer book without permission. It’s awful rude.
no subject
While I am more than aware you worship at the altar of gambling, Faraday, I hardly think that makes your cards any means of holy.
[ ...and, of course, she tries to lean over and reach them, because emma is hardly one to be so easily deterred. ]
no subject
[ He leans back all the more, stretching his arm overhead and swapping the cards from one hand to the other. He may be sitting, but he still has some height on her, and long arms, to boot. ]
See, now? That lack of faith is exactly the reason why you ain’t touchin’ these. You’ll spoil ‘em.
Bad enough you already swiped away one of my cards earlier. I’m gonna have to resanctify it ‘fore I put it back in the deck.
[ The one she had so cruelly confiscated after he flicked it at her. ]
no subject
Wouldn't you think I've touched them far often enough that any "spoiling" that's meant to occur already has?
[ because she already spends a great deal of time with those cards — though the one she's confiscated is staying in the pocket of her dress (for now. mostly just to mess with him). ]
no subject
[ Faraday is also completely making this up as he goes, but he’s used to bullshitting, used to spouting off whatever first comes to mind as a distraction tactic. Sometimes, it works. Other times, it doesn’t. But it never stops him from trying, either way. ]
It’s like how puttin’ down a hat ain’t so bad, but settin’ it down on a bed drains out all the luck.
no subject
Then maybe I oughta be settin' your hat on my bed, if I'm apparently goin' to jinx something of yours.
no subject
[ Even if it seems she's stopped grabbing for the cards, he still keeps his posture slightly twisted, arm held back, though not quite as high. ]
'S your bed, after all.
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