open rp post

[curiously]

DROP IN PROMPTS, PICTURES, OLD THREADS, A POST OR EVEN TFLN BRING IT.
( cw: body horror, gore, violence & etc. in some threads + please label threads for such. )

<small>( ➵ from <a href="">here</a> )</small>

Comments

[curiously]

I can only imagine when you're surrounded by the desert. Haven't visited it before until Nebraska.

Since you mention it though, can't help but wonder how much you've traveled. Farthest place you've gone to?

[deathslinger]

[ a delay. ]

mexico
had a bounty who decided hed rather take his chances with the rio instead of coming along quietly
he didnt end up drowning like we thought he would
but he didnt get very far after he climbed out either

[curiously]

[ what she immediately has in mind upon reading his text: caleb quinn is someone who won't give up on a target. not surprising with how their trials go through even though they're on friendly terms... ish. just outside of trials anyway. zarina expects to be hunted and killed still. ]

Can't say you don't have a great work ethic. He sounds like he's been trouble for you to travel to another country — and expensive to chase him all the way there, I'm guessing.

I always wanted to go to Mexico. Was planning to sometime in the future, but here I am.

[deathslinger]

[ "great work ethic"... Caleb snorts. Interesting words when his persistence never once did her any good. Might be sarcasm, of course—but somehow it doesn't sound like it. ]

all it cost me and the lads was time and supplies
nothing the money for bringing him in couldnt make up for

[ until he found out who was really profiting from every man he dragged through Hellshire's gates, limping and bloodstained. A revelation of seconds, but enough to make him curse every coin he ever earned from the bounties of more than half a decade. Just remembering it sours his mood. ]

you sure have a habit of wanting to visit lawless places
too bad this place dont seem to be a cure for that

[curiously]

You already know my work enough to understand why. I don't have to explain that too much unless you have questions about it.

Still, can't argue with that. The best we can do is survive and wait for it all to end someday.

[deathslinger]

sounds a lot like ordinary life when you put it that way

[ even if it's interrupted by frequent "death," needless to say. But you can get used to anything if it happens often enough.

Another delay, long enough to give his message the impression that it was the last one from him for the time being. But then: ]

what do you all do at that campfire?
just sit and wait around to be called for a trial?

[curiously]

[ well, this is surprising. it's rare to see him of all people start a conversation in exchange — it's been her most of the time. however, unlike a certain someone, she's already typing after reading his questions.

funny how a long time ago he said that he knew her enough and didn't need to know more. ]

That sums it up, really. Not that we don't do anything at all while waiting — we're lucky enough that one of us actually has a pack of cards for us to play with now and then. You already know how we have supply runs, too.

I've been getting lessons from some of them like how to repair generators more efficiently, for example. It's been really useful.

[ a pause, but an eventual second text gets sent: ]

And you? Do you just wait at the saloon until your employer calls? What do you do for fun or boredom?

[deathslinger]

[ that he even asked almost surprises him too. The survivors stay at the campfire, corralled like cattle between trials, venturing into the fog out of need for supplies or perhaps some lingering hope for escape. He shouldn't need—want—to know anything more beyond that. The same way he doesn't need to heed Zarina's questions and encourage her to keep talking to him.

But he does. And he thinks he realizes why. What he's doing is no different than the frustrated pacing of a prisoner in a cell, trying anything just to get a glimpse of something different. The same restlessness that had caught the attention of Hellshire's warden and led to his "freedom." And hadn't that turned out so well in the end.

It's that memory which makes him delete a much longer answer for a far vaguer one instead. ]

i keep myself busy
aint no shortage of things to do in glenvale if you put your mind to it

[ maintaining and improving the Redeemer, puzzling out the workings of a generator or the exit gates from what he's noticed about them in trials, sketching out designs of inventions shoved aside by thoughts of vengeance. And of course, there's the bar itself. But it hadn't been long after Caleb's arrival that he found out trying to pass the time in a drunken haze doesn't work so well. Not when getting drunk here is difficult enough that it's basically not worth the effort. ]

[curiously]

[ stolen alcohol still running through her blood, zarina's mind begins to wonder what exactly the man does when he's keeping himself occupied in glenvale. there's working on his rifle, target practice, going to sleep, catching a view of the stars, drinking to your hearts content — it's a more accommodating place compared to the likes of the meat factory where the pig resides.

of course she immediately replies back to him. ]

Like what? It can't just be working on your rifle or drinking.

[ zarina is a journalist. of course she desires details that aren't written down, being kept hidden through secrets and whatnot. it's what got her into this mess in the first place. ]

[deathslinger]

cant it

[ even spoken, his reply would still be short with annoyance—at her presumptive persistance, his own curiosity, or both. ]

[curiously]

[ not the answer she's looking for. unsurprising, but that doesn't mean it stops her curiosity the slightest. ]

You can only fix it so many times before it's fully repaired and ready for the next trial, and drinking — well, I can't blame you on that one. Don't you get bored by the end of it, though?

[deathslinger]

[ more like by the start of it, he thinks. ]

usually get called to another trial before that point
and ill thank you not to talk about the redeemer as if you know more about its workings than the one who invented it

[curiously]

Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to offend — it's just hard to think of only doing so many things when I try to imagine being in your shoes.

Why is it called the Redeemer?

[deathslinger]

told you im a bounty hunter didnt i
redeemings what i do to those im sent to capture
that hasnt changed here so the name stays

[curiously]

I suppose. Admittedly I imagined a second meaning for it when you mentioned its name for a moment.

How long did it take you to build it?

[deathslinger]

[ a second meaning. Despite himself, a smile flickers over his face when he reads that, a twist of morbid humor. She's not the first to say so about the Redeemer, even though one glance at the wickedly sharp spear and bayonet make it obvious that it's no instrument of holiness. ]

a month or near about
took another before it worked to my satisfaction

[curiously]

How'd you come up with it? Any inspirations? And how did you catch people before making the Redeemer?

[ the result of an answer spawns only a thousand more questions. ]

[deathslinger]

[ questions fly one after another like a barrage of bullets. But the flash of irritation Caleb feels when he sees them is just that—gone in an instant. Unlike certain others he'd prefer to curse than name, she seems genuinely interested in his work. It's... nice. ]

didnt start bounty hunting till i had it
it came from another idea of mine years before
a machine thatd shoot spikes for laying down railroad tracks

[curiously]

[ already she immediately recalls his record — assault on previous employer who runs a railroad company — as he explains his inspiration. hmm. ]

I can see it with how it works already during trials.

What other inventions have you made before? And have you made any new ones recently?

[deathslinger]

made a steam powered drill for tunneling

[ the last notable invention before getting locked away for fifteen years. But he'd kept his hands and mind busy in Hellshire too, hadn't he? Contraptions of iron and steel, designed to crush a man's spirit between their teeth and tear it apart with their springs. All his work—and yet, an odd reluctance rises at the thought of laying claim to them. Especially before Zarina.

Maybe it's because he made them for Hellshire's warden, a man almost as loathsome as Bayshore. Yes, that has to be the reason. ]

and some other things not worth mentioning
got nothing new here yet
been studying mostly

[curiously]

Studying what?

[ a pause, a second text because she gains an idea because it's currently not taken ]

And you know, if you're curious, I could show you a few things like my camera. Did flashlights exist in your time?

[deathslinger]

[ and here they come circling right back to what he does when not in a trial. But this time with his own words leading the way, and Zarina only following. To backtrack now would just sound foolish. The most he can do is answer— ]

the generators and gates during trials

[ —and move on. ]

the things you all like to shine right in my face
or click to try and get my attention?
no

[ fuck flashlights tbh. ]

closest would probably be dark lanterns
but the light from those aint nearly as strong

[ to her offer, he says nothing. She can't really mean it. ]

[curiously]

Really? That explains a few things then, maybe.

[ he's dodging the dialogue! again!! ]

Also, I don't hear an answer from you.

[deathslinger]

to what
i answered both your questions

[curiously]

Do you want to see my camera?