The church is being reshapen by spirit's demand. The demand to be remembered, to be treasured, to keep their place on a plane that's well beneath the one of ascension. Cain's work is displayed on one side, formed by hand-drawn portraits on whatever remaining material is left in his possession. It makes no difference if their faces have never been seen in the flesh; their imprint on those they've left behind is enough for him to know them.
The collection is added to. Blond-haired man in his final moments of life on earth, limbs splayed out by restraints, covered eyes to save him from his own moral decay. Overtly cursive script lines the bottom with a flourish, handwriting that isn't Cain's but is there due to his touch. Hawthorn Penrose
Weight shifts in the space. Attention draws slowly away, pulled towards the guest even before words are spoken by him. There's a thickness in the air that's felt but unknown as to why. The question causes a tilt to his head that morphs into an imperceptible shake of the head. No. That is not the question that's needing answer to.
it's now that he's taking a proper look at the other man that dallas notices the papers that cover the wall in front of him. on first glance they had been nothing he hadn't seen many times before--pictures of the missing, the dead, pleas from loved ones seeking closure. but there was no peace or tranquility to be found in the drawings these pictures held. instead there was something discomforting about the artwork. almost offensive.
but maybe that's just because they were plastered in a church.
he tries to understand the question presented to him. to predict what kind of trouble his answer may get him into ( because church types were always trouble one way or another ). "not of anything in particular," feels like an acceptable non-answer. there's an awkward silence and dallas searches for words to fill it before he's quoted scripture at. "just needed a quiet place to think. there's not many of those around here."
"And for that, we appreciate it." Ash certainly believed in the principal of earning your keep, when you can. Dallas and Abilene seemed like good folk, and Ash was glad that they were who mom had the company of making it through New York. He sighed at the hope voiced out, not quite so condiment in that, "feels like they underestimate those risks." He had been one of those who were adamant and vocal against pregnancies and babies, especially when they can fucking prevent it, there's too much risk involved and it felt cruel to the kids. But his voice alone wouldn't change much, sure things have been well so far, but there was also a lot of luck involved. And the kids were still young, a lot of things can still go wrong if they're not careful. Ash kept the worried to himself, he's voiced them out a thousand times to Ruth already.
He put a pin in that worry to move on for now, worries to be brought up again at another time, in another meeting. "..guess it did," Ash hesitated before replying with a mask of a smile, he had complicated feelings about his time as a marine. It had been a huge part of who he is, and he didn't regret making that decision, but yet it also came with a lot of pain, and he couldn't help the what ifs in life, if nothing else but to cope with the baggage that came with all the other wonderful things of being a marine. "If it didn't, I should be asking for a refund," Ash scoffed with a light joke, perhaps the military recruiters at his high school's career day did oversell it a bit too much back then.
"US marshal huh? Well thank you for your service." Ash tilted his head into a side nod, having come across their kind once in awhile should missions ever collide. Ash did laugh at the dark humor of a joke, he knew full well what the alternative means, and whether these were lies or otherwise, there is at least a gut feeling that Dallas didn't seem that bad of a guy anyways. And Ash did put a lot of stock in trusting his gut, rarely let him down. "Mom and I were from a small town too, though up in Minnesota, much colder," Ash returned the information, not sure of how much his mother might've yapped away or not. It only felt right to share anyways. "It couldn't have been long before it hit Kentucky, huh? We've been.. pretty isolated since they kinda locked us into the city."
He held a finger out in response to Ashton's admission. "Fargo." Dallas wasn't sure what it said about him that his only recognition of the state was through the 90s film but he hoped Ashton didn't mind the comparison. "The accent isn't as strong as they make it seem in the movies." Dallas had made the same joke to Ashton's mother. She hadn't found it funny and Ashton probably wouldn't either.
"Came in from the North. Ohio and Indiana," Both much more condensed in their population than Kentucky. "After that I don't think anyone was really keeping track." No real way to communicate. No real point either.
Although planes had spread the infection in pockets throughout the country it had been clear that it's origin was New York. The world had watched as the city was sealed up in a vain attempt at damage control. 'Course that didn't stop a concerning amount of people from thinking it was all fake. "Be glad you didn't see those morons arguing about it on the news. You woulda lost your faith in humanity."
A lot of conspiracies had been thrown out. A hoax, a terrorist attack, an fuckin' coup against the government. He almost wishes it had been any of those. "Pretty sure they stayed red in the face from yelling at each other up until the broadcast cut out." By that time most of the stores were empty. People were panicking. The military was trying to run the show. "Someone actually suggested nuking the city." The kind of suggestion that inevitably comes at the end of every zombie flick.
"A what?" His usual hums and nods were enough when he wanted to confirm that, indeed, he was the guy Dallas was looking for, so he didn't even have to halt the task at hand. Zach knew the answers to at least 80% of the questions that people asked him these days, so there were few things one could surprise him with, but... A what?
Zach turned to face Dallas, brow arched in confusion, trying to tell if he was serious in the first place. Some people were creative, and he wouldn't be surprised if it was a prank. "What makes you think so?"
"Well seeing mutilated corpses isn't exactly new or noteworthy around here," so that alone hadn't raised alarm bells. ''But finding a horse with its insides on the outside was a little harder to write off." Not his horse thankfully. He'd put Clyde down about a month ago when the animal had broken a leg and doomed itself. "Or, what little of his insides were left." He added in retrospect.
"When Abby and I were running reconnaissance on y'all we'd heard some weird shit at night." They'd come from the North and taken a long way round in an effort to avoid the city as long as possible; their hesitation less about the undead and more about the living. "You know how many wildlife preserves there are in this state? Not to mention, y'know, not all of those zoo animals actually died in the zoo." There were more than a few cages missing their skeletons. Some had either escaped or been released, both now free to repopulate their species.
"Heck yeah. Have you never walked through a city on the west coast? There are so many fake cow boys with their big trucks, and their big balls, and their hats, that never see a day of work outside of hauling lumber from the hardware store. Fake cowboys." Before they'd come to Jersey with their dad, she'd seen a lot of those kind of cow boys, and that's what Dad had always called them.
"That's so crazy, you must be like the bravest. I spent the first few months in lock up until my sister came and busted me out. It was like a whole thing, mostly boring. Once we took care of anyone in the pod who turned, it was mostly watching them shuffles past the windows like the most boring tv show."
Everything from her posture to her tone were entirely flirtatious, the tips of her fingers brushing over her collarbone in a motion meant to be inviting to the eye. "It definitely made me appreciate the good things left in life. Like beautiful things, and beautiful... experiences with people."
Okay, fair, he could see the point she was making. People who wanted to claim the culture without living it. A messy caricature of Appalachian heritage ( which was distinct from the deep south, and anyone from the valley would argue that 'til they were blue in the face ). His head bobs to the side in capitulation to her words. But he's not gonna let the implication that he's anything like the Texan boys she's thinking of. "I don't have dirt in my veins, I've got coal."
He considers his words, Dallas is proud of his roots and wants her to understand why. He's able to think of a joking comparison, standing up straight as he decalres, "I'm probably more of what you'd call a Mountain Man." If there was one word Dallas would use to describe his people it was hardened. They were born from poverty. The only option to settle the land was to mine it; the only option to survive on the land was to fight tooth and nail against the mining company's exploitation.
"I don't just ride horses and wrangle cattle," Those skills had been learned along the way but the rest of it had been in his blood. "I hunt, I fish, I make moonshine." He was raised to be self-sufficient. A one man Swiss army knife. "I know which plants are for pain relief and which ones you don't wanna mess with." What did a cowboy really know about survival?
There's a pause as he processes her come on but it remains unaddressed. Maybe the moment of shame would be enough to tell her he wasn't interested. "What were you in for?"
"all that charm." she couldn't imagine what she might do if he suddenly decided that there was something more that he wanted for life. being tied to a bi-weekly injection didn't bode well for her own travel, and the height of these buildings were neither of their friends. she doesn't say any of that, there's no room for insecurity when they're pressed this close and finally the buzz of all the chatter blends to the music. "makes a girl weak in the knees."
she's not the swooning type, unless there were a couple of more whiskeys on order. there was a polite amount of time to pass at this kind of party, she'd been told. where that line was, she wouldn't be the one to tell. so, she settles into the conversation that's been offered. "i was so sure we'd be headed to the carolinas." but they wouldn't be now, not ever. he was right, and she didn't need to say as much. they agreed intrinsically, and it was no business of anyone within earshot.
"you gonna start making pancakes?" vermont doesn't conjure much of anything for her, not in the way so many other states now did. she could imagine indiana more clearly, a slight on one state— even if she wasn't sure which. "and drinking craft?" she feels the grin on her face, the way it upturns the corners of her lips at the conjured image. there wasn't a way in hell that was the truth of the statement.
he snickers at her dryness. his fingers flex against the fabric of her dress as if suddenly aware of the warmth of her through the fabric. here she is with him, alive. when he was 'bout fifteen the barn cat got pregnant and delivered a litter of five. only one made it, and it was runty and small and had little chance of making it through the night. he'd slept in the barn with the mama and kitten both buried in his chest and each time he opened his eyes to see it still breathing he was hit with that same terrifying sense of awe.
life was precious.
but it could be taken easily.
"the hurricanes," dallas points out to her easily. "i decided we got enough problems on our plate. don't need to be adding forces of nature to the list." the more he says the more he feels the excuse is fairly valid. they could weather a storm. but a natural disaster was little out of their realm. same reason he'd wanted to steer from tornado alley and she may have given him shit over it but it was an irrational fear he didn't see himself outgrowing any time soon.
"beer is beer, woman." he insists, paining himself with the words they both know he doesn't believe. this is the man who'd gave a twenty minute spiel about not drinking any alcohol with 'ice' in the name because it was pretentious.
he dips her carefully, practiced, feeling their lower bodies come together for balance as he holds her. "and i happen to like pancakes." after a few moments he pulls her back up, returning to their sway.
Ashton paused hearing the other man out on his words, felt as if he was trying to get at something, though Ash didn't dig too far into it once the moment of hesitancy passed. "You're right," a hint of a smile flashed back, "they all deserved a little break." Ash stopped himself before adding the fact that it's been a rough time so far, perhaps not everyone felt that way, but Ashton definitely struggled every step of the way, doing his best to not let that show to anyone. Everyone distracted with festivities gave Ash permission to drop the façade of strength and stability for people to look to, and get away without much questions asked.
He was surprised to hear the conclusion Dallas came to about him that quickly, perhaps buttered up with whatever kind biased words a mother to say about her child. "You're too kind, thank you," he turned his glance sideways to Dallas, "you're not so bad yourself. Thanks for giving us a chance here, and I know the farm had been praising your skills. No obligations to stay or leave, of course." Ash would probably need awhile longer to build more trust, but both Dallas and Abilene had skipped a few steps simply from the approval of his mother. They kept her safe during their journey together, no matter the reason, that spoke a lot of volume to Ash personally.
He chuckled and gestured to the kids and toddlers in a joke, "I don't know, seemed like too many people want to take on that responsibility here," Ashton back then would've suggested the, in his opinion, better option of abortion, keeping them safe, not taking that risk of the mothers' lives and even worse, potentially bringing life into a fucked up world they did not deserve to have to live through.
There was an embarrassment that bubbles up from the statement made, one that a kid would feel hearing his mother brag about her kid blindingly, "ha, well guess I'll have to gossip about her in return then." Just like her to forget to take about herself, perhaps it runs in the family. "Yeah I did, marine raider, for about a decade. But I left the force years ago and moved here." He wasn't sure how much his mother had told the other man, and so he held back to let Dallas lead the conversation of his background instead. And in the meantime let his curiosity serve back a question, "and you? Where are you from?" Their first meetings filled with other stressful factors with Abilene's wellbeing and the wedding prep that followed, that they haven't had the usual conversation for newcomers yet. Ashton felt like that could wait anyways till tomorrow came once the celebrations were over.
it was dallas' turn to be surprised by ashton's words, unsure what he could've done to assert that declaration about himself. dallas certainly hadn't told amelia, or anyone else, about himself. maybe it was his actions that had lead the boy to this conclusion? working the farm- birthing that foal? he hadn't done much in the time that he'd been at the wexley but he'd tried to go good. the early morning hours spent with the distressed mare had been difficult and hard but the result had been a healthy philly and that seemed worth it enough.
and maybe something in him softened to the idea of staying here when he'd watched abby soothe the tired mare under the warming orange sun.
"we'll keep busy as long as we're here," dallas assures him. there is no commitment to stay in his words. but there's no mention of leaving, either. he waves his hand dismissively at the comment. there is a difference between being willfully fuckin' ignorant and getting pregnant versus accepting the role of a guardian. one required a lot more consideration than the other. "i hope they know the risks." he's seen families torn apart; literally. limbs and entrails and flesh and bone ripped and torn. lives ended. those monsters didn't care who you were. a daughter. a father. a brother. a lover. they all fell apart the same way.
he's not sure what a raider is but figures it's some highly trained specialized group of boyscouts trained to kill whoever the american government deems the terrorist flavor of the week. he keeps that opinion to himself. "seems like the training taught you a thing or two." he finds a compliment to give.
as the question turns to his own background he gives the answer he has since the beginning of this. "us marshall. district of kentucky." he figures it's an easier swallow than convict. it's dangerous for people to have the wrong idea of you these days. abilene's the only person who's gotten a semblance of the truth out of him. "mostly small town stuff. murders, drug rings." he offers in elaboration, trying not to make it sound too exciting.
"--i was even one of the clean ones." he adds jokingly. maybe the jab at corruption was a little bit of dark humor considering dallas' past.
she would have laughed at his answer, the same intense way they found all of their jokes— made of the truth. they could leave in the middle of the night, snuck away once she could stand, run, ride. they could (most likely would) but it was a gamble that neither of them were prepared to take now. "steal a new pair and on to canada." she adds, a vision that she doesn't feel inclined to pursue any further. her clyde in search of a new friend amongst what the farm had to offer, almost in search of a new rider.
he has two options for her, and she's going to take one of them. there is no third, nothing for her to suggest for herself or argue against. there is no cure for a cure, there is only a less painful way to pass the hours. "i'll start with ice." an option she'd let slip from her mind after so many months. generating the energy to cool water, to keep it cold, was a small luxury which had gone to the wayside with much of the modern lifestyle.
"lord knows i'll need that bath." if the shirt she was wearing wasn't already rung through, it would be soon enough . it was just a matter of whether or not she felt her legs underneath her and could make it to sitting in a tub just yet. maybe after the tea, the ice, the weakness that it all spurred in her to be taken care of. suffering was just a part of it, something she'd get used to if it were to keep happening. because it is going to keep happening.
the sentiment tries to root, and she's quick to push it away: "give me somethin else to think about."
canada had been thrown around more and more frequently during their time together. the pair were apprehensive about the idea, as they well should be, but even abilene couldn't deny the growing allure of a stable source of the cure she now relied on. how long would the wexley township stand against time? everything came to an end in this world; they'd seen enough death to accept that. "they got mountains in canada."
he wasn't sure either of them could act proper civilized again. it was one thing to try and fit in here, in the town, but canada would be a different beast. big brother watching their every move. at least in the mountains they could be off on their own. maybe just have to make a trip into the nearest city or town every few weeks.
dallas tips his head in acknowledgement of her choice, steps creaking on the wooden floor as he steps back into the kitchen. it's a mindless task to grab a handful of ice and wrap it in a dish cloth. the kettle starts to whistle as he works and he turns to pull it off the stove. "i got something for you to think about," he calls out from the room, the details of an earlier conversation suddenly remembered. "how the hell have these morons lived this long on cans of beans and fruit cocktail?"
sure, they had a few plants to supplement things. beans. tomatoes. but they didn't fish. didn't hunt. too afraid that somehow they'd catch the infection--as if anyone who'd ever caught their own dinner couldn't tell when an animal was sick or not. while there had been a week or two where dallas and abilene had gone without eating because the only animals they'd managed to catch had appeared ill, there'd never been a question in their ability to recognize the signs. fuckin' yello' bellies.
by the time he returns to her side there's a steaming mug in one hand and a wrap of ice in the other. one offers her the tea while the other places the ice pack against the back of her neck. "i don't know how much game is runnin' around the city but you know sure as hell go 30 miles out you'll find a flock of deer in one direction or another." if they stayed, there sure as hell was enough work to keep them busy helping these idiots learn a thing or two about survival. he doesn't move his hand from the ice pack until her fingers brush hers and she has it secure.
"Hey, these are the people I love you're talking about." Though her look was reproachful, there was a lightness to it, a playfulness that just tinged the real sentiment. Much like his quip at this little township. "Besides, it's that stuff that'll kill ya, or make you go blind from what I've heard." Though, most of what she'd heard had come from old literature and even older stories from her grandfather as he sipped his own flask around the campfire. "That is... unless you're willing to share a nip."
Eyes drinking in the people around them, dancing and talking, enjoying life for just a brief a moment and she wondered just how it was the people could be so cynical about something so beautiful. Even if it did end up being fleeting, it was these moments that made it all worth it. These moments that they all fought to survive for.
"Seems to me that it's you who's doing a whole lot of judging, and not these people... they've only done a whole lot of welcoming."
Despite entering the township together Dallas didn't know Amelia from Adam. She seemed a kind enough woman, and Dallas would never deny that surviving this long was a testament to her strength, but that wasn't enough for him to trust these days. Hell, there's never been a time in his life when it would've been enough. Maybe it was mama's passing that had hardened him; a stark reminder that there was nothing or no one looking out for him in the world.
"I take no responsibility for death or blindness." He warns her, offering the flask with a small shrug. It's her final comment that gets to him, leaves him with little room to argue that doesn't make him seem outright ungrateful. He chews on it for a long moment. "Seems like there's a lot of good folks here. But good folks can be just as dangerous as the bad." More, from Dallas' experience. "And seeing as Abby and myself are outnumbered about thirty to one, I think being a little suspicious is the best way to ensure our continued survival."
she toasts to his comment, a quick tip of her glass before she drinks alongside him once more. "keep all those eligible bachelors in line." there wasn't a soul in this whole township that was made for her, save the one standing at her side. it wasn't anyone's business to know, just the facts that she found herself with at the end of each and every night. "i'll do the same."
the pink of her cheeks can be quickly blamed on the whiskey she's swallowed if it were questioned. it finds a rosy placement that contrasts nicely with the fever-red of recent memory. it's not the dress, a far cry from anything else she's worn in the past two years. it's something else, and she's better to let the words stay rather than correct them, or try to add on her own.
"i didn't know—" the defense is worn out, spun in different ways to the simple truth that she wasn't a very good dancer. no one had ever taken the time to make sure that she had rhythm in her step until the campfire light offered the only chance at practice. it's not worth finishing the thought when he offers the dance floor, taking the offer that's given without negotiation. her own glass is placed in his, her hand finds its way to his in the same gesture.
"you try and get rid of me," she pulls herself forward, catching his shoulder with her open hand with practiced ease. the group around them fade, her world becomes a small conversation with vague chatter in the background. this close, the cool deference that she's held towards all the other wedding guests is gone. it leaves only her humor, the love that's otherwise held tightly to her, "see just what happens to you."
for as much hell as he gives her over it dallas had never minded her messy footwork. and maybe if he thought hard enough he could trace his commitment to her back to that night in the mountains when she'd first put her hand in his and she'd tripped into him like a newborn giraffe. for all the surviving they'd done together, those small moments of being human felt infinitely more significant.
he sucks in a breath at her comment. his bluff called. "well," she's pulled herself into his arms with ease and the space they occupy together is the only thing of interest to him. his arm is resting against her back and keeps her hips resting against his. 'least she make eyes with one of those eligible bachelors and try to make a run for it. "you know this old dog doesn't like learnin' new tricks..." as if he'd ever care to try and replace her.
they are not here to celebrate a wedding. they are indifferent to the strangers who've met them with kindness and curiosity. this is just another stop along the way and when the dust settles and they get what abby needs they'll pick up and move on. like they always did. "i think we should try vermont." they'd discussed what came next but hadn't landed one a decision one way or another. "they've got maple syrup and craft beer." but his real reasoning was the proximity to the canadian border.
Who: @tennesseewhskxy
When: May 1st
Where: The Reception
"Well... Hello, there."
New faces were a not unfamiliar thing, but also no un-rare either, especially one as good looking as this. From the moment she'd laid eyes on him he'd made her mouth water, and she couldn't help the catlike litheness that imbibed her movements as she sauntered up to him in her pretty blue dress.
"You're the new guy, huh? The real life cowboy? That's so interesting, you came a real long way, then, right?"
He'd just about decided that he'd stayed long enough to be polite but Abby was still making conversation and although she was close to reaching the same point, she had more patience than him these days. Dallas' focus was pulled to the woman in front of him after it became clear she wasn't going to be satisfied with his friendly smile and move on. She wanted to talk. Woohoo.
"As opposed to a.. fake cowboy?" Maybe such a thing had existed in the past, but these days there was no room for playing pretend. "But... yeah. We came from down south. Crossed a few states to get here." He was purposefully vague. Didn't figure the details were anybody's business but his and Abilene's.
𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: first time with each other edition (dallas&abilene)
nsfw prompt under cut for @tennesseewhskxy
who is more nervous and which one is more eager to dive in?
nervous isn't the word for it. dallas was more apprehensive at first. unsure of what abilene expected, balancing a realist's perspective of the situation.
who is more serious and who tries to break the tension in a playful way?
in contrast, abilene was the one trying to keep the tension from reaching a breaking point. she figured it was a safe way to corral rejection, if it were to come.
who becomes suddenly shy as the moment heats up?
all of her enthusiasm and playfulness went to the wayside when she realized how much she loved him and really wanted this to happen.
who gets more nervous about their partner going down on them?
once they're in the moment, there's no need for nerves.
who needs more verbal reassurance such as 'you feel so good'?
talking? doesn't sound like them.
who keeps checking in and asking for feedback?
see above.
who needs to be reminded to slow down?
abilene, just a touch. it shouldn't be surprising that they matched rhythm almost immediately, as though it were meant to be.
who accidentally says something incredibly vulnerable mid-action?
it wasn't truly an accident when dallas said something. he'd been thinking for a while anyways, and finally found its moment.
who gets embarrassed by little mishaps (like nose bumping or a cramp)?
they don't get embarrassed, but depending on what happened it might be worth a laugh. abilene tends to find more humor, using the excuse to take a breath.
who finds themselves closer to orgasm earlier than expected?
consequences of excitement, energy, and maybe the fact that it'd been a while all caught up to abilene quicker than she'd anticipated.
who is more overwhelmed after it's over and needs a moment to process?
it was a natural pause for both of them, the quiet after. nothing but their breathe, the wind against the tent, whistle across the grass.
who asks if it was okay genuinely worried about having done everything right?
neither of them had to ask, they knew everything was alright.
Who is the first to pull the other close afterwards?
why would they be far apart? they stayed close, her head on his chest, blanket pulled back up to keep them so.
who is the first to get up and go grab damp towels and a snack?
abilene eventually got up and put the kettle on, returning with a shirt that wasn't hers on and a smile bigger than normal.
he doesn't have much of an opinion on the bible. it feels as removed from religion as a desert from rain. the god that dallas believes in is largely indifferent to the plights of humanity. people will get sick and die and the ground will shake til it breaks and men will scorch the earth over something as petty as a dollar. these things will happen without god's consideration much like a fallen tree landing with a thud in an empty forest. but every now and then, with little rhyme or reason, god will turn his attention down to his creations and bestow a miracle.
it was the first time abby got infected that they were given a miracle. that first dose of the cure had helped him wrangle her back from death's grasp. she'd actually stopped breathing at one point ( 19 minutes 68 seconds of cpr before she resumed ) --she'd been living with those bites for weeks before they got their hands on a dose. at that point they weren't too optimistic it would even work.
so he believes in god. and this place has the first proper church he's seen in ages. dallas has found a seat in an empty pew and tipped his head in silent prayer. gratitude for small miracles. "you a preacher?" he breaks the silence and addresses the figure that's been filling the other end of the room.
"See? Thank you, glad someone agrees," Ash lit up at least animated enough for the relief of being in the presence without harping on the party participation. "But they deserve whatever celebration they wanted," within their means Ash would remind Eric sometimes on some of their requests, "it is their big day after all." Ashton didn't want to dampen any mood or just his innate nature to curl into a corner of a party or head back home. But when you care about the people, it's hard to simply walk away, not when especially the recent vote results that just been announced that morning. By those results, perhaps him not being here as a now confirmed elected Council member would be more noticeable than just plain old Ashton being lame again.
Ash stretched his arms, shoulders and back as he nodded to Dallas' sentiment, "yeah definitely, caught the milky way even, I have a telescope if you ever want a closer look." This would've never been possible in regular New York, only once being able to look at closer items like planets instead of colorful star clusters. It was the best opportunity to really showcase and teach others, kids and adults included, on the weird and fascinating universe they lived in.
He could feel eyes trained on him, in a way of observation and making judgment calls, Ashton simply let him, he had nothing to hide on his own character, actions and beliefs. For once, not a worry about the perception of who he was. But his mother was surprisingly brought up, alongside Maisie, giving pause to Ash as he blinked over to the statement, perhaps with more assumptions laying underneath the seemingly simple question. "Well, not really my little girl, if that makes sense." Ashton never claimed nor would ever claim to be Maisie’s new dad, she was old enough to comprehend guardianship and wardship, that mutual understanding gave way to them growing much closer.
"Her uncle was my mentor," the two men looked out to the eleven year old girl playing and basking in the golden hue of dusk. "She's already lost her mother, father, even uncle.." gaze softening as he voice lowered. "I'm just making sure she doesn't have to lose anything more." Lindsay while having never met his mother before all the way from Belize, Ash had shared tales, of stories and anecdotes Lindsay knew of the father of the Ryder family. Both mother and son shared in those lovely memories in grief. "Lindsay- my mentor did so much for me and taught me so much more, it's time and only right I repaid the favor." Ash flashed a knowing smile, "besides, my mom's great with kids, if she's told you."
though likely unintentional, the man's continued use of 'they' made it seem like he didn't entirely consider himself one within the community. as if despite the fact that he lived within its walls, for whatever reason, ashton was a man alone within the township. or maybe dallas was just reading too much into it all. "wouldn't be worth celebrating without all the people who've made it happen." a man and a woman could get married with little more than a promise spoken under the moonlight. the festivities happening here today felt like something more for the benefit of the community as a whole than just the couple. and from what dallas had gathered, ashton very damn well should consider himself part of that community. he'd put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into the wexley.
he nods at the explanation, one that doesn't require much detail for dallas to understand. the virus had broken and birthed many different kinds of bonds in its wake and dallas himself would struggle to adequately convey the complexities of his own relationship with abilene, if pressed. all that mattered was that special people were your people now. and you protected your own. "you're a good man." dallas is confident in his assessment despite how little he truly knew of ashton. "raisin' a kid is hard work," he rubs the scruff of his chin, adding the more delicate point to his comment, "not a lot of people are able to take on that responsibility these days."
between fearing for the child's survival and having to watch her lose all sense of security and hope when shit inevitably hits the fan, dallas does not think he would be up to the task should the need arise.
"no im afraid your mama didn't share too much about herself. her favorite topic of conversation had been you." her son, her smart and strong and brave son who amelia had been so certain was alive and alright. dallas had almost felt pity for her at the blind optimism, but he'd had to eat crow when it turned out she was actually right and the younger ryder was alive. "she said you served. marine corps?"
origamiaround
gamechangershow
titsay
stormborns
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
romaincrisis
