Sure. Before that, though, I'd like to know if you are
at all likely to return this favor, so to say.
How do you tell a guy you never met sorry you got shot in the leg, but
my inmate is freaking out and I think she deserves not to get shot in
turn? You just can't.
I don't think Larry will, but I can talk to him about it to make sure.
No one else knows. Didn't tell the infirmary, didn't think it was smart until I could gauge the reactions it'd get. Didn't want it to get out of control.
[Edward types and erases the beginning of several replies. No reason to do it for her sake... In the end, he decides not to say anything to that at all. He's having too many thoughts about it, and is too tired to sort them out.]
He finishes up with Tess, and knocks on Edward's door after that. He's a reasonably tall guy, perpetual hat-wearer, gun in a belt, clothes clean but with stains that don't come out even in modern washing machines.
When Edward opens the door, he's dressed in a faded brown newsboy cap, a simple T-shirt, threadbare and too old to still be truly white, and jeans that look distinctly newer. There's a brown leather jacket thrown on over the shirt, but the front has been left open. He stands over six feet, broad and solid.
"Hey. Come on in." He stands aside to let Arthur in, holding the door for him.
The cabin takes form as an apartment, the entryway leading into a wide living space complete with kitchenette. There are two doors leading off of it, both ajar, showing the bathroom and bedroom. Everything about the place seems well-kept, but worn down, and Edward blends right in.
Guy is standing up just fine after being shot in the knee - either the
infirmary is really working miracles, or he's got something going on below
all that twisted skin that Arthur couldn't begin to understand.
Good thing, though. Means he's less likely to fuck with Tess for it. He
takes off his hat and rakes a hand through his hair. "Sure, I'll have a
drink. Big place."
"Yeah. Not at all what I was expecting." 'Cabin,' they say, but it feels more like a personal suite to Edward. "I haven't had this much space to myself since... well. Since I lived here. That was a long, long time ago."
Edward moves to the kitchen and opens the fridge... eyes the stock... and veers away anything from the Commonwealth. He should consider taking some of this Nuka-Cola over to Larry's at some point. The rads make it unhealthy for anyone else.
"I'm guessing you could use a beer?" It's that kind of night, but not everyone drinks.
"It is, but the odds have been in its favor. It's pretty much across the street from where I live and work now, which has been kept up to Pre-War standards. The area's secure, doesn't see a lot of trouble..." He shrugs one shoulder. "Haven't been in to see it, though. So the building's still standing, but that doesn't mean the floor hasn't caved in or... any other damage hasn't gotten it."
Small talk over, now time for business. Good. The sooner Edward can make his stance clear, the better.
"No. But then, I'm sure I haven't met half the people on the ship yet." Edward turns the beer bottle in his fingers slightly. "I was out for a walk, turned a corner, and that's when we saw each other. It wasn't hard to tell I spooked her. Hell, I was expecting something like this to happen when I agreed to take this job. It's why I announced myself the way I did." And boy, did that get attention. Just... not enough, not where it was needed, apparently.
"Better than I expected." A beat. "Much better than I expected." Curiousity at best, a lack of comment entirely at neutral. An insensitive but not malicious comment at lukewarm. And then there was... "Only about one guy took offense. But he was an asshole, not hostile. I didn't feel threatened."
So... he let his guard down. He really should have known better. He normally does know better.
"Obviously, I don't know anything about her experiences. But she insisted I had to be infected, so I'm guessing I can connect that dot." Edward spreads his free hand. "I said I'm not taking it personally, and I mean it. She was working off of what she knew, was trying to protect herself. Maybe others on the ship, too. The biggest concern is that she shot even after I put my hands up, but I can think of half a dozen valid reasons to do that."
He shrugs and takes a drink. "If it'd set her mind at ease, I'm willing to sit through whatever tests medical might have to prove that it's radiation damage, not an infection."
He runs his fingers through his beard and thinks about that. "I don't know. I think it ain't - rational. It might help, but I don't know that anything would do it."
He takes a sip of his beer, and tries to get some of the point across: "Where she's from, the whole damn world got sick. People who get sick, they look like you, but they're sentient corpses. All they want is to infect other people. I think - she saw you, and she couldn't just think he ain't acting like one of the infected. You wanna survive, your instincts kick in."
Edward nods. "I understand. It's why I don't see any reason in making a fuss about it. Nothing about this was malicious." Just... unfortunate. But survival is survival. "All things considered, I think it was generous of her. And smart. Shooting to disable, and trying to get information."
When he imagined this scenario beforehand, it wasn't his knee he thought would get shot.
"But even if medical tests aren't enough to help, we'll be able to say we did what we could. And I'd rather take what steps are available to try and prevent this from happening again. Not just for my sake, either. I told her I don't think we can keep this a secret, and it's true. If asked about it, I don't intend to lie and say it didn't happen, even if I'm not gonna name names. I don't want to cause her any trouble over this. But if something like it were to happen again, we might not get so lucky with the chance to keep it under control."
He takes a deep breath, puts his beer down on the table, and nods. This is all very sensible. Honestly, if Tess could look at Edward without seeing infection she'd probably like him. Not someone to make a fuss, someone practical.
"You got a good head on your shoulders," he comments. You know, considering. "I'm gonna talk to her. Act as a go-between for the time bein'. She'll appreciate all'a this once she gets back to herself."
Edward nods. "Thank you." And that isn't meant entirely for the compliment (even though if the tables were turned, Edward would insist he didn't need thanks, since he's doing his job).
"I'll let you know when I get the medical testing done. I'll probably do it tomorrow. It's a good idea, anyway, so they have the information just in case."
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[Polite. Granted, the message he'd sent out to the Barge had been pretty down-to-earth, in a way Arthur appreciated.]
Been to the infirmary yet?
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[And luckily there's no one to get onto him about it.]
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Sure. Before that, though, I'd like to know if you are at all likely to return this favor, so to say.
How do you tell a guy you never met sorry you got shot in the leg, but my inmate is freaking out and I think she deserves not to get shot in turn? You just can't.
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No, I'm not. I know it might sound strange, but I'm not taking this personally. And even if I was, I know it wouldn't solve anything.
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I think you're gonna fit in nicely, then.
Larry isn't going to come look for her, either? Anyone else who knows?
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No one else knows. Didn't tell the infirmary, didn't think it was smart until I could gauge the reactions it'd get. Didn't want it to get out of control.
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No reason for you to do it for her sake, but I am happy to hear it. Now just to hope no one in the infirmary will be too alarmed.
Let me get her settled. And then I should like to visit you for a conversation.
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Sure. Cabin 3-17 when you're ready.
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He finishes up with Tess, and knocks on Edward's door after that. He's a reasonably tall guy, perpetual hat-wearer, gun in a belt, clothes clean but with stains that don't come out even in modern washing machines.
"It's Arthur. Morgan."
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"Hey. Come on in." He stands aside to let Arthur in, holding the door for him.
The cabin takes form as an apartment, the entryway leading into a wide living space complete with kitchenette. There are two doors leading off of it, both ajar, showing the bathroom and bedroom. Everything about the place seems well-kept, but worn down, and Edward blends right in.
"Can I offer you a drink?"
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Guy is standing up just fine after being shot in the knee - either the infirmary is really working miracles, or he's got something going on below all that twisted skin that Arthur couldn't begin to understand.
Good thing, though. Means he's less likely to fuck with Tess for it. He takes off his hat and rakes a hand through his hair. "Sure, I'll have a drink. Big place."
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Edward moves to the kitchen and opens the fridge... eyes the stock... and veers away anything from the Commonwealth. He should consider taking some of this Nuka-Cola over to Larry's at some point. The rads make it unhealthy for anyone else.
"I'm guessing you could use a beer?" It's that kind of night, but not everyone drinks.
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"A beer sounds great," he says, leaning against his dining table as he looks through to the kitchen. "How long ago you live here?"
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Edward emerges from the fridge with a pair of Barge-procured beers, one in each hand. He offers the neck of one to Arthur.
"It's easy to lose track of the specific number after a while."
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"Jesus, I forgot about that," he says, before taking the beer from him. "Is the place even still standing in the time you're from?"
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"Best to keep this kinda memory, I suppose. Lost splendor and all that."
He takes a sip and lets the requisite pause between a sip of beer and the next conversation sit there.
"...you ever talk to Tess before today?"
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"No. But then, I'm sure I haven't met half the people on the ship yet." Edward turns the beer bottle in his fingers slightly. "I was out for a walk, turned a corner, and that's when we saw each other. It wasn't hard to tell I spooked her. Hell, I was expecting something like this to happen when I agreed to take this job. It's why I announced myself the way I did." And boy, did that get attention. Just... not enough, not where it was needed, apparently.
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"She normally sees everything on the network before I ever do. I was surprised she didn't see it before."
He takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
"Though honestly, fella, I don't know if it woulda made all the difference. Maybe not enough to stay her hand. How'd other people react?"
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So... he let his guard down. He really should have known better. He normally does know better.
"Obviously, I don't know anything about her experiences. But she insisted I had to be infected, so I'm guessing I can connect that dot." Edward spreads his free hand. "I said I'm not taking it personally, and I mean it. She was working off of what she knew, was trying to protect herself. Maybe others on the ship, too. The biggest concern is that she shot even after I put my hands up, but I can think of half a dozen valid reasons to do that."
He shrugs and takes a drink. "If it'd set her mind at ease, I'm willing to sit through whatever tests medical might have to prove that it's radiation damage, not an infection."
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He runs his fingers through his beard and thinks about that. "I don't know. I think it ain't - rational. It might help, but I don't know that anything would do it."
He takes a sip of his beer, and tries to get some of the point across: "Where she's from, the whole damn world got sick. People who get sick, they look like you, but they're sentient corpses. All they want is to infect other people. I think - she saw you, and she couldn't just think he ain't acting like one of the infected. You wanna survive, your instincts kick in."
And her instincts are survive, survive, survive.
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When he imagined this scenario beforehand, it wasn't his knee he thought would get shot.
"But even if medical tests aren't enough to help, we'll be able to say we did what we could. And I'd rather take what steps are available to try and prevent this from happening again. Not just for my sake, either. I told her I don't think we can keep this a secret, and it's true. If asked about it, I don't intend to lie and say it didn't happen, even if I'm not gonna name names. I don't want to cause her any trouble over this. But if something like it were to happen again, we might not get so lucky with the chance to keep it under control."
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He takes a deep breath, puts his beer down on the table, and nods. This is all very sensible. Honestly, if Tess could look at Edward without seeing infection she'd probably like him. Not someone to make a fuss, someone practical.
"You got a good head on your shoulders," he comments. You know, considering. "I'm gonna talk to her. Act as a go-between for the time bein'. She'll appreciate all'a this once she gets back to herself."
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"I'll let you know when I get the medical testing done. I'll probably do it tomorrow. It's a good idea, anyway, so they have the information just in case."
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"Go through me before anythin' and we'll be fine. I appreciate it."
He (somewhat cautiously) sticks out his hand for a handshake. "With this attitude you're gonna fit in pretty well."
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