[ with the second shuffle, she watches without taking her eyes off of the motion of the cards. it's far easier to track when he slows it for her, and she realizes where the card is going this time. she's trying to memorize how he moves the halves of the deck, how he's mindful of the selected card, keeping it effective separated until he produces it all over again.
an amused smile tugs at the corner of her lips, and she picks up the king, brushing her thumb across the face of the card, before looking back up at faraday. ]
Still mightily impressive, Faraday. How did you learn this yourself?
[ she holds the card back out to him, figuring she could do with another demonstration before she tries to do it herself (which will inevitably be a bit embarrassing, trying to adjust to it). ]
[ He takes the proffered card, mindful of his distance to keep from brushing against her fingers. That particular performance was one that didn't bear repeating, in his eyes. ]
Tried hustlin' the wrong man, one night.
[ He performs the shuffle again at the same speed – the false riffle, the false cuts, but he speaks as he does it. Something close to his usual magician's patter, speaking as a distraction, weaving words to redirect the eyes. ]
When I was young, didn't know too well how to swindle folks. Thought keepin' a face card or two in my pocket was clever, and it worked— see how I keep the cards separate here? You gotta twist 'em a little while you make the bridge.
Anyway. Played a game one night, won a couple hands 'fore another man stepped in, took the place'a' some poor bastards who'd called it quits. Swept us all clean, had this grin on his face the whole time.
[ He starts the shuffle again from the top, the movements slow and smooth. ]
Turns out, he'd been swindlin' folks longer'n I'd been alive. Guess he thought it was funny, the way I was ploddin' my way through the games and still comin' out on top, so he took me under his wing. Showed me a few things.
[ With a final flourish, the suicide king arrives back on top of the deck, and Faraday flips the card face down back on top of the deck. He places the entire deck on the bed between them – less risk of accidental contact, that way – and gestures to the cards. He smiles a little in challenge. ]
You ever shuffle cards before? Can't imagine a fine, upstandin' lady like you ever comin' in touch with such sinful things.
[ emma's gaze flickers from between the cards to faraday's face as he talks, but on the last repetition, her eyes are entirely on the deck. each cut and bridge, she tries to commit to memory, even as she realizes it's going to take a good deal of practice for her to even get the motions down pat.
a good thing they have hours until sunrise, then.
he sets down the cards, and emma finally glances up again, catching the challenge in his smile — something she's all too familiar with coming from him. she doesn't say a single thing as she reaches out for the cards, runs her finger along the sides. she makes a bit of a show at first of carefully splitting the deck, thumbing the corners like she's trying to adjust her hold properly...
...and then she neatly riffles the cards together, pushes them into a high arch, and lets them quickly cascade back into a stack in the flat of her fingers. ]
I'm sure it goes somethin' like that.
[ she tries not to smile as she looks back up at faraday, quirking her eyebrow just slightly at him.
spending a great deal of time traveling, looking for a place to settle down with others in rose creek, there had been many a night where there was little to nothing to do. she wasn't one for poker, never had a taste for gambling or the habit of betting money, but other games? it was a means to while away the hours, and after watching the men shuffling the cards, it had become something for her to practice, to keep her hands busy.
just by nature of being a woman, she hadn't let that deter her from participation. ]
Nothin' sinful about a deck of cards, Faraday. It's rather what you'd do with them than the nature of their existence.
[ Well, well, Emma Cullen is just full of surprises, isn’t she?
As the cards snap back into a pile in her hands, Faraday blinks, eyebrows lifting a little. That was— surprisingly good. Much better than he had expected, honestly, and for a second, the surprise stands naked on his face. It disappears the second she glances up, though, with that cheeky little not-smile of hers, and he responds with a bit of a flat look – the same kind of look they offer when the other is being particularly irksome. ]
Fine, fine, that’s one less thing I gotta teach you, then.
Start with the trick bridge, then.
[ It’s a little harder to demonstrate without the cards in his own hands, but he does his best, explaining how to twist the cards a little so that when the cards fall back into place, the long edges of the two halves don’t lie flush together. ]
Who taught you how to shuffle, anyhow? Can’t imagine it’s a skill very many women have.
[ emma manages to keep her expression composed enough that she doesn't look entirely smug, but now that it's a bit clearer she's not so far behind, she simply follows his instructions. it takes a few times, and she initially struggles with keeping the cards from falling perfectly back into the same pile before she manages to separate them into halves again.
she looks up to faraday again once she's done it, finally replying, ]
Matthew.
[ she holds the deck carefully for the next step, her expression only slightly more distant. thinking about her now-dead husband would do that, because in reality, she didn't bring him up often, didn't like the reminder. he was on her mind regularly enough that she didn't much feel a need to draw him into her conversations — and it still aches a bit to remember that he's in the town's cemetery, rather than her bed tonight. ]
When we were travelin' to come here, some nights he'd be playing cards with the other men. Hearts and the like. I asked him to show me, and he did. Simple as that.
Edited (how tf can i not spell today) 2016-10-12 17:13 (UTC)
[ The mention of her late husband is enough to make his expression sober, and he glances away when she turns her attentions back to the cards. Faraday wonders, sometimes, what it was that brought him back to Rose Creek, diminished though he may be. He wonders if it was luck, good or bad, or fate, or just someone up there paying a dirty trick on him. And he wonders why it was him, of all people, why it wasn’t Goody or Billy or Jack, or hell, even Bogue. Cold son of a bitch that he was, it would almost seem natural for him to escape the clutches of death to terrorize the town again.
And very rarely, Faraday wonders why it wasn’t Matthew.
The thought never lasts very long, considering how little he knew of the man. Teddy Q had mentioned a thing or two, but never much. The sting of loss was still too fresh, Faraday figured, and he never cared to press. But of all of them, shouldn’t it have been him? The man with actual ties to this town, who had buried his roots so deep he was willing to die to single-handedly face down a tyrant?
The noise of the cards snapping together, of the fire crackling softly, fills in the silence between them as Faraday watches her bridge the cards again. Then, quietly (and oh, so carefully), ]
[ it would be a lie if emma tried to say she hadn't wondered similarly, why it had been faraday and none of the others (thank god it wasn't bogue), and sometimes...she wonders why it hadn't been matthew. of all the people that could be haunting the town, haunting her in particular, why not her husband?
it's not the sort of thought she'd ever voice aloud, certainly not to faraday, but it makes a person wonder why one ghost and not another?
the corner of emma's lips lift slightly at the question and the memories it calls up. ]
Yes. It's been a good long while since I have, but he did teach me.
[ cards had been an excellent way to pass time, a shockingly enjoyable activity (partially because emma was a touch competitive, and the games had been a good outlet for it). ]
He was never one to tell me I oughtn't learn something just because it's not a woman's place.
[ she couldn't have loved a man who would seek to silence her, tell her what she should and shouldn't do just because she was his wife. she'd appreciated that about matthew, rare trait that it was. ]
[ He watches the way her expression softens, turns a little warm as she speaks on her husband, and he feels a strange sort of twist. Something a little bitter, a little sad, and he’s not rightly sure why. Not as though he knew the man personally to have any particular feelings on him, one way or the other. It’s clear that Emma was fond of him, though he’d known that for ages, now. (Why else would she wander away from the relative safety of her home to search for wild men with violence in their blood, if not for vengeance?)
Maybe part of him wishes he had someone who thought of him that way, though he hardly wants to admit that, even to himself, backs away from that treacherous thought like someone might avoid the unsteady grounds above a mine. He was too rough around the edges, too covered in nettles and barbs; he didn’t need that softness when he was alive, and he needs it even less, now. ]
I bet you were a menace at the table.
[ is what he settles on. He puts on a wry sort of smirk, an eyebrow quirking upwards. ]
I can just picture you gettin’ all red in the face when you end up with the Black Lady.
[ there's near wistfulness in emma's eyes when she talks about matthew, warm memories stirring her in a way she hasn't felt in a while; it's different to think on the good times, rather than the same event replayed in her nightmares.
matthew's life was far more deserving than the death he suffered. the kind of man he was, he shouldn't have been near put down in the middle of the street.
she turns her gaze back up to faraday, the nostalgia flickering away from her expression in favor of a little twist in her lips, an edge of competition flaring to life. it's not something faraday is wont to see often, but oh, it's certainly there. ]
I was decent in my own right.
[ or rather: good. she had the kind of face that would lull others easily into thinking she'd go down easy, that she'd just swallow every trick, but emma was a queen of sluffing unwanted cards. ]
And I will have you know I was a far sight more composed than that.
[ she bridges the cards in her hands again, holding them apart so they didn't quite finish falling together, before she looks back up at faraday. ]
[ He laughs a little at the mental image; he doesn’t doubt for a second that Emma could have held her own, imagines her at the card tables in the types of rundown saloons he used to frequent. She probably wouldn’t need any of his tricks – her fiery stare was probably unnerving enough to cow any man into folding.
The challenge in her eyes isn’t new, but the context is – talks of winning and losing. That little smile of hers is familiar, in a way. He’s seen it before countless times, but not on her face. Somehow, it’s not surprising, and it makes him smile all the more. ]
‘Course. Foolish of me to underestimate you.
[ Foolish of anyone to do that, really, but especially of Faraday, considering the types of things he’s seen her do; it’s a habit he needs to break himself of.
When she bridges the cards again, the two packets intermingled but not quite flush, he mimes out the cut he had used before, fingers covering the short edge from the front, his non-dominant hand pulling the two halves apart from the back. He describes the steps as best as he can – but by now, it’s more intuitive than anything he can put into words. It’s a bit of a clumsy explanation, all things considered. ]
The idea is to make it look like an under cut, like you’re takin’ the bottom half and ploppin’ it on top, but really, you’re just putting the cards back in the same order from before you cut ‘em.
You still gotta sell it, though. Make it look natural.
[ any man foolish enough to underestimate emma cullen is a fool indeed. emma never has and never will be the type of woman to back down when she knows she's right, when she knows she can win, or when she's determined to see something through. she's good and kind, certainly, but she also has an unbendable will that's seen her through more than a few dark times.
the ordeal with bogue included.
she watches what faraday mimes with his hands, looking down at the deck as she considers the way she's holding the cards, and then tries to mimic it for herself.
...only to have them spill out of her fingers, a few flipping up into the air as they break from the arch of the bridge, and spread onto the bed between them.
the look of surprise on emma's face is near comical, all startlement and big eyes, because she obviously wasn't expecting the cards to break out of her hands quite like that.]
[ For a second, he looks surprised, as well, a few of the cards actually drifting through him as they fall from her fingers.
Then, he laughs. ]
Maybe— maybe don't do it like that. Minor suggestion.
[ He turns, casting around for some of the fallen cards, and finds that a few had made their way behind him in the mess. After that, he starts trying to arrange the cards nearest him into a neat stack. ]
Had me worried there, for a bit. Was wonderin' if I was actually gonna have anythin' to teach you, expert as you already were.
[ emma's not laughing, but she's at least smiling as she gathers up the cards, reaching out to put them together with the other stack faraday's managed to find from the way they'd spilled across the bed. ]
I never claimed to be an expert of any kind.
[ she glances around for any stray cards, picking up the deck again. ]
You just never happened to ask before about any of my card playin' experience.
[ looking back at faraday, she's still smiling, small but genuinely warm as she neatens up the cards, casually riffling them again and trying to repeat what he'd shown her. she has a bit more success this time, not sending the cards flying, but she still has to do it awful slow to make sure she doesn't slip up. ]
[ Now that's a rare smile, and he stills a little. Funny, how it sends a warm sort of fluttering in his chest, and he's unsure what to make of it, unsure what, exactly, that strange little feeling is, or why he suddenly thinks, I'd like to see that smile again.
He clears his throat quietly, shoving the thought away. He settles back onto the bed (though the bed seems none the wiser for it), and watches as she shuffles the cards again. More successful, and he offers an approving nod. ]
Better, that time. With a bit of practice, you probably won't be liable to send cards every which way.
[ emma gives him that flat little look as she neatens up the deck again, gives it the appearance that she's cut it, like he showed her. ]
I'll have you know I don't often make a habit of throwin' cards across the room.
[ she just happened to have a little slip-up there, but she repeats the shuffling, tries to be a little more subtle about hiding the cut — selling it, like he'd said. she's more focused on the cards while she repeats the moves, finally glancing up at faraday when she can do it faster, smoother. ]
See? Not a single card's gone out of my hands.
[ she looks pleased with herself, because after that mishap, she'd felt the need to prove she wasn't just a clumsy mess with a deck of cards, that she could certainly handle shuffling them properly — and work on the trick, too. ]
I'll take your word for it, considerin' I've never seen a deck of cards in your hands till tonight.
[ He smiles approvingly at the improvement – and it was quite an improvement in such short time. Must be that competitive streak in her again, the one he glimpsed earlier in the evening; that little need to prove herself, and Faraday can't exactly fault her for it. ]
Pretty.
[ He nods to the cards, turning sideways to face her on the bed, one leg drawn up on the mattress. ]
[ emma's expression is...genuinely lighter, actual warmth in her eyes as she shifts the way she's siting on the bed, moves forward just a touch so they're facing each other more — easier for him to check what she's doing, she reckons. really, she seems to be enjoying herself, and considering how this evening had been previously, how terribly haunted she'd been by those nightmares of hers, this is a dramatic improvement.
with faraday to thank for it.
she looks up at his face once more, smile in the corner of her lips, before she's focusing again on the cards. pulling up at the center, she neatly riffles them together, arches them into a cascade, but refrains from pushing them back into the deck. she moves her hands deftly — not so fast to lose her grip on the cards — but manages the fake cut before producing them again, with the same card on top. ]
[ Faraday is suitably impressed with how well she's picked up the trick, watching as she moves the cards with more skill than he would've thought of her mere minutes ago. Playing cards tended to invoke a particular image – smoke-filled saloons soaked through with whiskey and gin, drunken men gambling their lives away. Little wonder most folks tended to shy away from it, saw cards as playthings of the Devil, as silly as it seemed.
He had assumed the same of Emma – not that he would've blamed her for it. But she was a practical woman, had a good head on her shoulders, and Faraday thinks he should've known better.
Leaning forward a little, chin resting in his hand, Faraday watches each move closely. Spots little hesitations here and there that would give her away, were this a real performance, but in all, it's a good attempt, considering she's been at this for less than an hour. As she completes the cut, drops one packet atop the other, Faraday grins up at her. ]
Beautifully done. Couple more days of practice, and we might make a decent card sharp out of you, yet.
[ the cards are set lightly back on the bed, and emma just leans against the wall with a slow, relaxed sigh. she looks— better from a mere hour ago when she'd been a shaking, breathless mess, and the tension that had been wringing her so terribly is clearly gone (or at least far lessened). she doesn't look like such a pale, sweating wreck anymore, something she's grateful for, since she feels less like she's letting that weakness through again.
the smile she gives faraday is much the same as before: small, but genuine and warm, with a hint of tiredness behind it (but not the bone-deep exhaustion from before). ]
Perhaps I'll even give you a run for your money when it comes to cards, Mister Faraday.
[ there's that soft tease again, but then her expression is a little more somber, not so light when she adds, ]
...thank you. If I— haven't managed that courtesy yet: thank you.
[ He huffs out a quick laugh at her comment, watching as she settles back. She looks a damn sight better than she did when he first arrived at her side; the color's returned to her face, her shallow breaths have evened out, and— look at that. That smile again, that rare, little thing that sets warmth licking in his chest.
He swallows thickly, eyes cast down as he takes the cards in hand. He cuts them idly spinning packets one way, then the other, without any real purpose in mind. Easier to do this than think on that strange feeling.
Her thanks earns a quick glance before his gaze darts back down to the cards in his hands. ]
You're welcome.
[ The words are slightly stilted, unsure, like he's not quite used to receiving thanks of any kind. ]
Least I could do.
[ He runs his thumb over the short side of the deck, the cards snapping as they riffle together, and he adds teasingly, ]
Don't go assumin' that just because I'm showin' you some new tricks means I'll teach you everything I know, by the way. A man's gotta have some secrets.
I hear secrets keep a man interestin' — or something to that effect.
[ she gives a soft chuckle as she gathers her hair gently over her shoulder, combing her fingers through the knots that had sprung up, thanks to the previous tossing and turning. she figures she should probably braid it, do something to keep it out of the way, or at least out of her face until the morning.
emma's content to watch faraday cut and shuffle the cards, always impressed by the ease with which he moves the cards — not quite so smoothly as he had in life, she sees from watching him, but the fact that he can even pick the cards up, sustainably hold them, amazes her. she gently plaits her hair over her shoulder as he riffles the cards, giving her a chance to admire his speed, even for a ghost. ]
It's gotten much easier for you to do things like this, hasn't it?
[ He takes a small cut from the top, swivels the short edge around his index finger, brings the packet below, around, then back atop the deck – a move meant to confound and impress, and one of his favored tricks in life. Showing off a bit, apparently, now that he has an audience. ]
I find I have an abundance of time with which to practice.
[ It's odd, how comfortable he feels with her – and maybe at another time, he'd notice how close they are, make some teasing comment on how completely inappropriate their current position is to make her blush. Faraday, sitting on her bed, barely an arm's breadth away, while she sits in her nightclothes, wrapped in blankets.
As it stands, there's a relaxed nature to the atmosphere, something easy in the warm light of the fire and the lamp, and it slips his notice. He watches her braid her hair for a moment, the cards still moving in his hands – a simple, legitimate overhand shuffle, this time. ]
Can't do the really fancy stuff yet, though, but I think I'm getting there.
[ emma's clearly entertained by the more impressive shuffling, not minding in the slightest that he's showing off for her; she's happy to watch, because it's another gentle distraction from the rough turn of her evening. she's starting to feel the exhaustion again, mostly because what sleep she had gotten hadn't been especially restful, but she's not truly drifting off — not yet.
she probably ought to be noticing the odd closeness they're sharing now, with him actually sitting on her bed, but noticing that would have to include acknowledging that she's comfortable with having him there, that she isn't unsettled by his presence. she's hardly put out by the fact that, were he more human, she could just reach right out and touch him, but— she can't. she knows that. ]
You're doin' better than I thought you might.
[ not because she doesn't think he's capable, but because she'd been concerned over his disappearances, how he hadn't been solid enough to touch things in the living world — like he'd just been a superimposed image, instead of a person.
that gives her a bit of pause, and she realizes there's a question that's bothered her lately. ]
...do you vanish quite so much anymore?
[ she tends to assume these days that if he isn't by her side, he's found something else to do in town, somewhere else to explore; he otherwise stays so well grounded that she's almost forgotten he did disappear against his will before. ]
Better'n I thought I might, too, all things considered.
[ For a while there, he thought he would simply be this, some incorporeal thing just barely more than nothing. A voice and a moving image, visible and audible only to Emma Cullen. And, well, as nice as the company is and has been, he thinks if that's all he was capable of, it might very well have driven him mad with boredom alone.
The cards snap quietly against themselves as he riffles them, then he sets into shuffling them overhand again with a quiet brush of movement. ]
Not so much, no. Not like the first days, anymore.
[ Not like after he had first died, when he would materialize for a handful of seconds, then simply drop away in little more than a blink. Then, some days later, he would reappear with only a vague recollection of what transpired, a distant sense of time having passed. He doesn't recall having dropped away like that in more recent days, for which he's grateful. At least he feels he has a semblance of control over himself. ]
Tend to choose when I come and go, now. Kinda wander around the town, now that I'm a little more... stable, I suppose you'd call it.
[ He smirks a little as he adds, ]
Not causin' too much trouble, if that's what you're worried about.
[ Not much. Just the occasional spooked horse, or a chair pushed a handful of inches back, just as someone means to sit down. ]
[ if emma's honest, she doesn't entirely understand why she feels some sort of relief that faraday is more capable of interacting with the world, even in the state he remains. far as she knows, she's the only one still seeing him, but even so far as his ability to lift and move things now — that's a big change. even his ability to handle these physical cards, while she's certain it takes all kinds of concentration, is amazing in its own right. he isn't just lifting them and moving them around; there's a dexterity to it, though she finds it near comical that were someone to see him with the deck, it would just look like the cards were shuffling themselves mid-air.
kind of funny, really.
she listens with a small nod, but gives him one of those Looks, like she wants him to know for certain that she'd not approve of too many shenanigans. ]
Good. These people don't need any extra ghosts givin' them more to worry over.
[ the ones who lived through the ordeal with bogue...well, she's sure they all have more than a few of their own to live with — even if they're not quite so literally haunted as emma. ]
Though I've already accepted you're goin' to keep up making my life difficult here instead.
[ it's obvious by the quirk in her lips that she's not being serious — giving him a hard time, more like — even as she reaches up to rub at her heavy eyes, trying her damnedest not to yawn. ]
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no subject
[ with the second shuffle, she watches without taking her eyes off of the motion of the cards. it's far easier to track when he slows it for her, and she realizes where the card is going this time. she's trying to memorize how he moves the halves of the deck, how he's mindful of the selected card, keeping it effective separated until he produces it all over again.
an amused smile tugs at the corner of her lips, and she picks up the king, brushing her thumb across the face of the card, before looking back up at faraday. ]
Still mightily impressive, Faraday. How did you learn this yourself?
[ she holds the card back out to him, figuring she could do with another demonstration before she tries to do it herself (which will inevitably be a bit embarrassing, trying to adjust to it). ]
no subject
Tried hustlin' the wrong man, one night.
[ He performs the shuffle again at the same speed – the false riffle, the false cuts, but he speaks as he does it. Something close to his usual magician's patter, speaking as a distraction, weaving words to redirect the eyes. ]
When I was young, didn't know too well how to swindle folks. Thought keepin' a face card or two in my pocket was clever, and it worked— see how I keep the cards separate here? You gotta twist 'em a little while you make the bridge.
Anyway. Played a game one night, won a couple hands 'fore another man stepped in, took the place'a' some poor bastards who'd called it quits. Swept us all clean, had this grin on his face the whole time.
[ He starts the shuffle again from the top, the movements slow and smooth. ]
Turns out, he'd been swindlin' folks longer'n I'd been alive. Guess he thought it was funny, the way I was ploddin' my way through the games and still comin' out on top, so he took me under his wing. Showed me a few things.
[ With a final flourish, the suicide king arrives back on top of the deck, and Faraday flips the card face down back on top of the deck. He places the entire deck on the bed between them – less risk of accidental contact, that way – and gestures to the cards. He smiles a little in challenge. ]
You ever shuffle cards before? Can't imagine a fine, upstandin' lady like you ever comin' in touch with such sinful things.
no subject
a good thing they have hours until sunrise, then.
he sets down the cards, and emma finally glances up again, catching the challenge in his smile — something she's all too familiar with coming from him. she doesn't say a single thing as she reaches out for the cards, runs her finger along the sides. she makes a bit of a show at first of carefully splitting the deck, thumbing the corners like she's trying to adjust her hold properly...
...and then she neatly riffles the cards together, pushes them into a high arch, and lets them quickly cascade back into a stack in the flat of her fingers. ]
I'm sure it goes somethin' like that.
[ she tries not to smile as she looks back up at faraday, quirking her eyebrow just slightly at him.
spending a great deal of time traveling, looking for a place to settle down with others in rose creek, there had been many a night where there was little to nothing to do. she wasn't one for poker, never had a taste for gambling or the habit of betting money, but other games? it was a means to while away the hours, and after watching the men shuffling the cards, it had become something for her to practice, to keep her hands busy.
just by nature of being a woman, she hadn't let that deter her from participation. ]
Nothin' sinful about a deck of cards, Faraday. It's rather what you'd do with them than the nature of their existence.
no subject
As the cards snap back into a pile in her hands, Faraday blinks, eyebrows lifting a little. That was— surprisingly good. Much better than he had expected, honestly, and for a second, the surprise stands naked on his face. It disappears the second she glances up, though, with that cheeky little not-smile of hers, and he responds with a bit of a flat look – the same kind of look they offer when the other is being particularly irksome. ]
Fine, fine, that’s one less thing I gotta teach you, then.
Start with the trick bridge, then.
[ It’s a little harder to demonstrate without the cards in his own hands, but he does his best, explaining how to twist the cards a little so that when the cards fall back into place, the long edges of the two halves don’t lie flush together. ]
Who taught you how to shuffle, anyhow? Can’t imagine it’s a skill very many women have.
no subject
she looks up to faraday again once she's done it, finally replying, ]
Matthew.
[ she holds the deck carefully for the next step, her expression only slightly more distant. thinking about her now-dead husband would do that, because in reality, she didn't bring him up often, didn't like the reminder. he was on her mind regularly enough that she didn't much feel a need to draw him into her conversations — and it still aches a bit to remember that he's in the town's cemetery, rather than her bed tonight. ]
When we were travelin' to come here, some nights he'd be playing cards with the other men. Hearts and the like. I asked him to show me, and he did. Simple as that.
no subject
And very rarely, Faraday wonders why it wasn’t Matthew.
The thought never lasts very long, considering how little he knew of the man. Teddy Q had mentioned a thing or two, but never much. The sting of loss was still too fresh, Faraday figured, and he never cared to press. But of all of them, shouldn’t it have been him? The man with actual ties to this town, who had buried his roots so deep he was willing to die to single-handedly face down a tyrant?
The noise of the cards snapping together, of the fire crackling softly, fills in the silence between them as Faraday watches her bridge the cards again. Then, quietly (and oh, so carefully), ]
Did he teach you to play, too?
no subject
it's not the sort of thought she'd ever voice aloud, certainly not to faraday, but it makes a person wonder why one ghost and not another?
the corner of emma's lips lift slightly at the question and the memories it calls up. ]
Yes. It's been a good long while since I have, but he did teach me.
[ cards had been an excellent way to pass time, a shockingly enjoyable activity (partially because emma was a touch competitive, and the games had been a good outlet for it). ]
He was never one to tell me I oughtn't learn something just because it's not a woman's place.
[ she couldn't have loved a man who would seek to silence her, tell her what she should and shouldn't do just because she was his wife. she'd appreciated that about matthew, rare trait that it was. ]
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Maybe part of him wishes he had someone who thought of him that way, though he hardly wants to admit that, even to himself, backs away from that treacherous thought like someone might avoid the unsteady grounds above a mine. He was too rough around the edges, too covered in nettles and barbs; he didn’t need that softness when he was alive, and he needs it even less, now. ]
I bet you were a menace at the table.
[ is what he settles on. He puts on a wry sort of smirk, an eyebrow quirking upwards. ]
I can just picture you gettin’ all red in the face when you end up with the Black Lady.
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matthew's life was far more deserving than the death he suffered. the kind of man he was, he shouldn't have been near put down in the middle of the street.
she turns her gaze back up to faraday, the nostalgia flickering away from her expression in favor of a little twist in her lips, an edge of competition flaring to life. it's not something faraday is wont to see often, but oh, it's certainly there. ]
I was decent in my own right.
[ or rather: good. she had the kind of face that would lull others easily into thinking she'd go down easy, that she'd just swallow every trick, but emma was a queen of sluffing unwanted cards. ]
And I will have you know I was a far sight more composed than that.
[ she bridges the cards in her hands again, holding them apart so they didn't quite finish falling together, before she looks back up at faraday. ]
Next?
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The challenge in her eyes isn’t new, but the context is – talks of winning and losing. That little smile of hers is familiar, in a way. He’s seen it before countless times, but not on her face. Somehow, it’s not surprising, and it makes him smile all the more. ]
‘Course. Foolish of me to underestimate you.
[ Foolish of anyone to do that, really, but especially of Faraday, considering the types of things he’s seen her do; it’s a habit he needs to break himself of.
When she bridges the cards again, the two packets intermingled but not quite flush, he mimes out the cut he had used before, fingers covering the short edge from the front, his non-dominant hand pulling the two halves apart from the back. He describes the steps as best as he can – but by now, it’s more intuitive than anything he can put into words. It’s a bit of a clumsy explanation, all things considered. ]
The idea is to make it look like an under cut, like you’re takin’ the bottom half and ploppin’ it on top, but really, you’re just putting the cards back in the same order from before you cut ‘em.
You still gotta sell it, though. Make it look natural.
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the ordeal with bogue included.
she watches what faraday mimes with his hands, looking down at the deck as she considers the way she's holding the cards, and then tries to mimic it for herself.
...only to have them spill out of her fingers, a few flipping up into the air as they break from the arch of the bridge, and spread onto the bed between them.
the look of surprise on emma's face is near comical, all startlement and big eyes, because she obviously wasn't expecting the cards to break out of her hands quite like that.]
...well then.
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Then, he laughs. ]
Maybe— maybe don't do it like that. Minor suggestion.
[ He turns, casting around for some of the fallen cards, and finds that a few had made their way behind him in the mess. After that, he starts trying to arrange the cards nearest him into a neat stack. ]
Had me worried there, for a bit. Was wonderin' if I was actually gonna have anythin' to teach you, expert as you already were.
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I never claimed to be an expert of any kind.
[ she glances around for any stray cards, picking up the deck again. ]
You just never happened to ask before about any of my card playin' experience.
[ looking back at faraday, she's still smiling, small but genuinely warm as she neatens up the cards, casually riffling them again and trying to repeat what he'd shown her. she has a bit more success this time, not sending the cards flying, but she still has to do it awful slow to make sure she doesn't slip up. ]
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He clears his throat quietly, shoving the thought away. He settles back onto the bed (though the bed seems none the wiser for it), and watches as she shuffles the cards again. More successful, and he offers an approving nod. ]
Better, that time. With a bit of practice, you probably won't be liable to send cards every which way.
[ The highest of praise, clearly. ]
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I'll have you know I don't often make a habit of throwin' cards across the room.
[ she just happened to have a little slip-up there, but she repeats the shuffling, tries to be a little more subtle about hiding the cut — selling it, like he'd said. she's more focused on the cards while she repeats the moves, finally glancing up at faraday when she can do it faster, smoother. ]
See? Not a single card's gone out of my hands.
[ she looks pleased with herself, because after that mishap, she'd felt the need to prove she wasn't just a clumsy mess with a deck of cards, that she could certainly handle shuffling them properly — and work on the trick, too. ]
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[ He smiles approvingly at the improvement – and it was quite an improvement in such short time. Must be that competitive streak in her again, the one he glimpsed earlier in the evening; that little need to prove herself, and Faraday can't exactly fault her for it. ]
Pretty.
[ He nods to the cards, turning sideways to face her on the bed, one leg drawn up on the mattress. ]
Try it again.
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with faraday to thank for it.
she looks up at his face once more, smile in the corner of her lips, before she's focusing again on the cards. pulling up at the center, she neatly riffles them together, arches them into a cascade, but refrains from pushing them back into the deck. she moves her hands deftly — not so fast to lose her grip on the cards — but manages the fake cut before producing them again, with the same card on top. ]
How's that, then?
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He had assumed the same of Emma – not that he would've blamed her for it. But she was a practical woman, had a good head on her shoulders, and Faraday thinks he should've known better.
Leaning forward a little, chin resting in his hand, Faraday watches each move closely. Spots little hesitations here and there that would give her away, were this a real performance, but in all, it's a good attempt, considering she's been at this for less than an hour. As she completes the cut, drops one packet atop the other, Faraday grins up at her. ]
Beautifully done. Couple more days of practice, and we might make a decent card sharp out of you, yet.
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the smile she gives faraday is much the same as before: small, but genuine and warm, with a hint of tiredness behind it (but not the bone-deep exhaustion from before). ]
Perhaps I'll even give you a run for your money when it comes to cards, Mister Faraday.
[ there's that soft tease again, but then her expression is a little more somber, not so light when she adds, ]
...thank you. If I— haven't managed that courtesy yet: thank you.
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He swallows thickly, eyes cast down as he takes the cards in hand. He cuts them idly spinning packets one way, then the other, without any real purpose in mind. Easier to do this than think on that strange feeling.
Her thanks earns a quick glance before his gaze darts back down to the cards in his hands. ]
You're welcome.
[ The words are slightly stilted, unsure, like he's not quite used to receiving thanks of any kind. ]
Least I could do.
[ He runs his thumb over the short side of the deck, the cards snapping as they riffle together, and he adds teasingly, ]
Don't go assumin' that just because I'm showin' you some new tricks means I'll teach you everything I know, by the way. A man's gotta have some secrets.
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[ she gives a soft chuckle as she gathers her hair gently over her shoulder, combing her fingers through the knots that had sprung up, thanks to the previous tossing and turning. she figures she should probably braid it, do something to keep it out of the way, or at least out of her face until the morning.
emma's content to watch faraday cut and shuffle the cards, always impressed by the ease with which he moves the cards — not quite so smoothly as he had in life, she sees from watching him, but the fact that he can even pick the cards up, sustainably hold them, amazes her. she gently plaits her hair over her shoulder as he riffles the cards, giving her a chance to admire his speed, even for a ghost. ]
It's gotten much easier for you to do things like this, hasn't it?
[ she nods gently towards the deck. ]
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[ He takes a small cut from the top, swivels the short edge around his index finger, brings the packet below, around, then back atop the deck – a move meant to confound and impress, and one of his favored tricks in life. Showing off a bit, apparently, now that he has an audience. ]
I find I have an abundance of time with which to practice.
[ It's odd, how comfortable he feels with her – and maybe at another time, he'd notice how close they are, make some teasing comment on how completely inappropriate their current position is to make her blush. Faraday, sitting on her bed, barely an arm's breadth away, while she sits in her nightclothes, wrapped in blankets.
As it stands, there's a relaxed nature to the atmosphere, something easy in the warm light of the fire and the lamp, and it slips his notice. He watches her braid her hair for a moment, the cards still moving in his hands – a simple, legitimate overhand shuffle, this time. ]
Can't do the really fancy stuff yet, though, but I think I'm getting there.
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she probably ought to be noticing the odd closeness they're sharing now, with him actually sitting on her bed, but noticing that would have to include acknowledging that she's comfortable with having him there, that she isn't unsettled by his presence. she's hardly put out by the fact that, were he more human, she could just reach right out and touch him, but— she can't. she knows that. ]
You're doin' better than I thought you might.
[ not because she doesn't think he's capable, but because she'd been concerned over his disappearances, how he hadn't been solid enough to touch things in the living world — like he'd just been a superimposed image, instead of a person.
that gives her a bit of pause, and she realizes there's a question that's bothered her lately. ]
...do you vanish quite so much anymore?
[ she tends to assume these days that if he isn't by her side, he's found something else to do in town, somewhere else to explore; he otherwise stays so well grounded that she's almost forgotten he did disappear against his will before. ]
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Better'n I thought I might, too, all things considered.
[ For a while there, he thought he would simply be this, some incorporeal thing just barely more than nothing. A voice and a moving image, visible and audible only to Emma Cullen. And, well, as nice as the company is and has been, he thinks if that's all he was capable of, it might very well have driven him mad with boredom alone.
The cards snap quietly against themselves as he riffles them, then he sets into shuffling them overhand again with a quiet brush of movement. ]
Not so much, no. Not like the first days, anymore.
[ Not like after he had first died, when he would materialize for a handful of seconds, then simply drop away in little more than a blink. Then, some days later, he would reappear with only a vague recollection of what transpired, a distant sense of time having passed. He doesn't recall having dropped away like that in more recent days, for which he's grateful. At least he feels he has a semblance of control over himself. ]
Tend to choose when I come and go, now. Kinda wander around the town, now that I'm a little more... stable, I suppose you'd call it.
[ He smirks a little as he adds, ]
Not causin' too much trouble, if that's what you're worried about.
[ Not much. Just the occasional spooked horse, or a chair pushed a handful of inches back, just as someone means to sit down. ]
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[ if emma's honest, she doesn't entirely understand why she feels some sort of relief that faraday is more capable of interacting with the world, even in the state he remains. far as she knows, she's the only one still seeing him, but even so far as his ability to lift and move things now — that's a big change. even his ability to handle these physical cards, while she's certain it takes all kinds of concentration, is amazing in its own right. he isn't just lifting them and moving them around; there's a dexterity to it, though she finds it near comical that were someone to see him with the deck, it would just look like the cards were shuffling themselves mid-air.
kind of funny, really.
she listens with a small nod, but gives him one of those Looks, like she wants him to know for certain that she'd not approve of too many shenanigans. ]
Good. These people don't need any extra ghosts givin' them more to worry over.
[ the ones who lived through the ordeal with bogue...well, she's sure they all have more than a few of their own to live with — even if they're not quite so literally haunted as emma. ]
Though I've already accepted you're goin' to keep up making my life difficult here instead.
[ it's obvious by the quirk in her lips that she's not being serious — giving him a hard time, more like — even as she reaches up to rub at her heavy eyes, trying her damnedest not to yawn. ]
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