[Faith's not entirely sure what she thinks of Dutch. She's well aware that he's trouble, but she's not exactly a saint herself. So while having some older man over she barely knows might not be her brightest of ideas, she's willing to risk it. Besides, she can handle herself.
Her head is pounding, but she still needs to drag herself out of bed and be somewhat presentable. That involves tossing on a dress rather than her nightclothes. Faith much preferred men's pants-- much easier to fight in, but this gets her less suspicious eyes.
Faith curses under her breath when she hears the light rap on the door. She didn't have the chance to hide her weapons laying against her dressing and on it. At least some guns, a crossbow, and knives aren't entirely unusual in these parts. Although odd for a woman to carry around with her.
Before opening the door, Faith does grab the wooden stake off her dresser to stuff it under her pillow. That would be harder to explain than the rest. Then she gets the door, wincing a bit at the sunlight that assaults her eyeballs, quickly closing her eyes and ushering him in.] Son of a bitch, why is it so bright?
[Dutch can pretend to be a civilized man, a man of culture, of politesse and propriety. He was pretending quite well the night before, up until the brandy started flowing and the gang went off to tend to their separate vices, while he spent time mingling in the saloon with new faces. His mask dropped - at least the mask of a proper gentleman - and that's when he and Faith started to talk.
He's not entirely sure what to make of the young woman, to be honest. She has the spark of someone individual, someone with the drive and heart to truly make a mark upon the world. It's a heartening thing to see, when it comes down to it. Dutch can't say he's ever been anything but taken by those who live their own lives unrepentant of their personalities, their individuality, their brashness and fire. So many people in their world let the rules of common society snuff out that flame before it's much more than a spark. He can't abide by that kind of thing. Faith is, however, stronger than any shit like that. She has eschewed the normal. And that's a delight.
As he walks back with a dainty little package of pastries, and a smaller bag of coffee grounds - freshly ground, none of this tinned shit he often found himself having to endure - he keeps his head tilted downward. Not just to shield his eyes from the sun due to the persistent thrum of a hangover, but to keep his face from being recognized. It's second nature now, to stay incognito, to obfuscate himself so as to keep his family safe.
After knocking on the door and waiting patiently, he nods his good morning to Faith, and steps in, immediately taking in his surroundings. His voice is quieter than the boisterous thunder it had been the night prior, but not out of lack of enthusiasm, but rather, for the necessity to keep himself from growing nauseous due to the loud sounds.
Weapons. Weapons everywhere. A twitch of a smile lifts his mustache up on one side, and he makes his way to the closest table, to open the box of pastries.]
Here you go, my dear. [he offers over a muffin.]
To soak up what's left of the alcohol.
[He has his own croissant in hand shortly after.] Have you got a coffee pot? I'll be glad to start some. [For himself, if nothing else.]
You certainly aren't here to make nice. [he nods subtly to the weapons.] Woe be to those who cross the path of Faith Lehane.
[Her life didn't allow for normal. Even without being called as a Slayer, her childhood more or less fatherless and a mother barely worth the name had meant she'd needed to be strong. Otherwise, she'd have been dead a long time ago.
Faith's stomach starts to growl the moment she eyes the muffin which she gladly snatches out of his hand.] Thanks, sugar plum. [It's teasing. She might not be used to people calling her 'dear'. She gestures to the percolator resting the far counter, taking a very unladylike bite out of her muffin, moving to sit on the edge of her bed.
Her gaze follows his to the weapons.] Oh, I can still make nice. I can just bite back if anyone thinks they can get the better of me. A woman, traveling alone, I'm sure you can guess how some men think they can take advantage. [It's not a lie, entirely. But the arsenal served a different purpose than protection from mortal men.]
[Her snappy comeback's enough to get Dutch to chuckle, the smile actually pulling fully forward. He prepares the percolator and sets it onto the stove once the water and coffee's in.]
No offense intended, Miss, I call most every woman dear. Even well armed, fully dangerous ones. All this is far more than what's necessary for self defense, even for all the dangers of bein' a woman. I'd surmise you're out for blood, out for a bounty, or out for chaos, none of which I could ever begrudge you.
[He takes a bite of his croissant, and points his fingers at her from over the pastry, having a lean against a wall, brushing a flake of the food off his sleeve as he does.]
No need to assume I have any desire to pry. I simply feel that a young woman who feels the need to have an arsenal ain't just protectin' herself from unscrupulous men. Even my best-armed men don't have the range of...
What can I say? Most women like jewelry. And I'm not most women. [She winks at him as she continues to eat her muffin. Faith could tell him the truth, but most people would think she's crazy. She's learned to keep the truth close to her chest. It's easier that way.]
Maybe I was out for chaos, even a few years ago. But I've settled. [Her eyes gleam with mischief.] A little bit.
I take bounties sometimes when I need the money. I hunt too. Crossbows are a bit harder to load than a bow but more powerful. And better than a gun if I need to be quiet about it. [Her muffin finished and she's already feeling better, although it still feels like something is tap dancing on her skull. She gets up from her spot to get the crossbow off the dresser, grabbing the goat's foot lever beside it. Her foot went into the stirrup and the lever pulled back the string in a fluid and practiced motion to snap it into place. She makes it look far easier than it is.] You ever use one?
[Dutch pushes himself off the wall with a strong shrug, gracefully putting himself in motion to get a better look at the weapon.]
Can't say as I have. We've got long bows, but I'm no archer, either.
[He's terrifying with his pistols and revolvers, though. Someone had to teach his boys how to aim and shoot with deadly precision with a swiftness, and he was that someone. He taught all the girls, too, or well, he taught the ones that Susan had trouble with. Grimshaw was a holy terror with a shotgun, but when a lady needed to learn handguns, he was there.
But this young woman's got her own particular brand of proficiency, he assumes as she works the string into place with near elegant ease.
There's a hint of boyish mischief hidden under the gruff veneer at the idea of trying something new, though.]
I don't believe I've ever seen one used, to tell you the truth.
[When they spoke last night, Dutch had mentioned his friends. More like his family, really. So she figures that's the 'we' he's talking about. It sounds nice, honestly. She never really had anyone. No one that stuck around anyway, be them dead or deadbeat.] I can use a gun. [She gestures to the pistols.] But I prefer this. [And not only because it's easier to kill vampires with. It felt different than a gun. In a way, more powerful.] Knives too, if I don't have time to load this baby.
[Faith flips the crossbow around in her hand to hand him the stock, so he can feel it in his hands. It's not loaded, but she also didn't feel like getting an accidental bolt to the gut.] I'd be happy to show you, sometime.
[Dutch takes the crossbow and set down his croissant, immediately feeling its heft and balance, holding it up to look through its sights. It isn't much different, it seems, to a long gun, in terms of use. It would certainly be a surprise to whoever she's looking to take out. Rifles are loud - and sometimes that worked to an advantage - but this. This is a fine weapon for stealth.]
Whoever you're lookin' to deal with, you gotta deal with quietly.
[Or so he surmises with her choice of weapons. He hands the crossbow back and slides out his knife from its sheath at his waist, just behind the silver-plated, pearl-handled Schofield that it matches. It's a clean, well maintained, very balanced hunting knife, decorated with Art Nouveau work at the flat of its blade. He hands it over after a flourish to turn it handle-side towards her.]
One of my sons, he's quite fast with his knives. Learned to use 'em well before I found him and took him in. He's deadlier with handguns now, but that don't mean he lost any fire with a blade. Another of my group, he prefers throwin' knives and long bows. Big feller, too, but one of the stealthiest men I've ever known.
Actually, come to think of it, I think you'd like most of 'em. Strong'n deadly, willin' to fight for the freedom to do as we please. You don't seem the type to much appreciate societal norms.
[Just look at what she's got where she's staying.]
[She takes the crossbow back and sets it back where it lay originally, neither confirming nor denying his guess about her needs in a weapon. Stealth is important, but bullets did nothing to vampires or most demons.
Her eyes gleam at the sight of the blade, clearly interested and taking it gladly. It means he's got a certain amount of trust that she's not going to use it on him. Or it's because he's certain of his own skills to defend against her. She tests the weight of it in her hand, flipping it around in her grip.
Looking up from the blade, her eyebrow quirking.] You tryin' to adopt me too, Mr. Van Der Linde? [She hands the blade back.] Last man that took me in turned out to be a snake. [She cants her head up at him, challenging and with an undercurrent of flirtation. But then most of Faith's words sounded like thinly veiled flirtation.] Are you a snake, Dutch?
[Dutch watches Faith and how she handles the blade, really more attuned to seeing her ease with a blade from how she holds it, how she moves it in her hand. She's just as elegant with a knife as she is with the crossbow.
When she asks, a chuckle enters his voice, and he takes the blade away with a slow movement, the blade flashing towards Faith as he brings it back down to its sheath.]
Snakes strike those who get close, only as part of their nature. To call me a snake would presume I strike indiscriminately.
[Dutch's voice dips lower, quieter. If she's flirting, he's seducing.]
Do I look like a man who lashes out as a matter of course, Faith? Surely I show more restraint and cunning than that. No, as far as predators go, I'm far more calculating.
[He steps away from Faith, a smile playing in his expression as he strides over to fill two cups with coffee from the percolator. He hands her one.]
[She's not unaffected by his lowered tones, the enticing timbre of his voice. Eyes darkening, she watches the blade in his hand as it returns to its sheath. What he's saying doesn't exactly comfort her, but it does draw her in.]
Good, if you did deny it. I'd probably trust you even less. [Faith laughs as she takes the offered cup, it's not a bitter sound but there's certainly many bad experiences caught up in that laugh.] All men are beasts. It's all about figuring out what kind.
[Dutch's amusement doesn't let up; he's aware she's sizing him up as much as he is doing to her. At least between the two of them, they're boldly doing so, not hiding it. Neither of them are the type to hide what they're doing, and that's refreshing.]
Most women are, as well. What kind are you? I'd place money down that you're no snake. A cat of some sort, perhaps.
[He takes a sip of the coffee, the sharp flavor soothing his headache immediately. Thank god for small favors. He looks Faith over. While she's wild, and by no means the sort to fuck with, she has her damages, and her weaknesses, and she seems to wear some of them on her sleeve. It makes Dutch wonder just how much is hidden.]
A panther, I'd say. Dark, cunning, rare to spot, rarer still to survive an encounter with one. That would make me a lucky man.
[She drinks her coffee too after giving it a cursory blow. His assessment of her seems to please her.] Lucky so far. [Faith points out with a wink and she moves to sit down in a chair by the window, setting the cup on the windowsill.] Could be I like to play with my food.
[As she finds a seat, Dutch stays standing, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, tapping one out to light it with a match. He flicks the match out with a quick motion of his hand, and takes a longer drag. It was after that, that he leaned against the window frame, looking out at the street.]
Hmm... [She hums as though she's actually considering her answer. Faith doesn't want to hurt Dutch just for the sake of it. That kind of pointless cruelty is something left in her past, even if shadows of it still linger just under the surface like a pot of water threatening to boil. The dark desire to use the power given to her to hurt others the way she'd been hurt just because she can. It's a road she can't let herself go down again. If she did she might never find her way back.
Still, that didn't mean she couldn't tease.] No plans as of yet. But I'm keeping my options open.
I can appreciate someone whose scope is broader than a single path. Keeps things free.
[For once, Dutch didn't start to proselytize about the importance of freedom in a country so culturally held back by European notions of law and civility. He was enjoying his cigarette, his coffee, and company. His gears were working, though, thinking over the few pieces of the puzzle that was Faith Lehane, which he already knew. She was well armed, sharp as a well-maintained knife, herself. Beautiful and skilled. He wouldn't deny her attractiveness, he wasn't insensitive to young beauty.
In fact, youthful beauty was his favorite type. But he kept that to himself, happy enough to simply flirt and seduce in a sparring dance.
He exhaled his smoke, and smiled to himself. The gang had only recently arrived to this town - or rather just outside of it - about a week prior, and already he found someone exceptional in her ways.]
You're a woman that makes a man wonder. I can't help but wonder just what a young woman like you is doing in some two-penny shithole like this town, if not huntin' bounties. You plan on divulging, or are you gonna stay an enigma?
[Faith is well aware how attractive she is and very much uses that fact to her advantage when it suits her. And this banter with Dutch amuses her, so she sees no reason to stop now. He's attractive too in his way, despite being very nearly twice her age, but it stems mostly from the way he holds himself. He's got a level of confidence that some men could never hope for.] Could ask you why you're in this two-penny shithole too, Dutch, but I'm not sure you'll tell me the truth either.
[She reaches a hand up to snatch the cigarette out of his hand and helps herself to a drag, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she does.] So how about we both just keep up the mystery or... hell, we might grow bored of each other and then where will we be?
[Besides, she couldn't go running around telling anyone who'd listen that she's a chosen one who slew vampires and killed demons from one town to the next, following the papers for leads. Not even because it would cause panic, but more likely because sure as shit they'd try and toss her in a nuthouse.] Bounties are fine for cash- [So long as they weren't her own. But she's far from California, so it's unlikely hers will catch up to her here.] But let's just say I like to travel and leave it at that? Some places nicer than others.
[A smile comes to his face and he chuckles with her assessment of the situation. Sure, he's a conman, and frequently gives a line of bullshit to people he's conning. He's damn good at it, too. But he's compelled to give Faith the truth. Or, rather, a version of it. Dutch isn't stupid, not when she's hunting bounties, or rather, says she might be. She's not an unintelligent woman, she's sharp.
She'd have seen his face glaring out from wanted posters if she was anywhere west of here, and if she wanted to take him in, she would have already. She doesn't seem like a patient woman.
He looks at her with an amused smile when she steals his cigarette, and raises an eyebrow to it. Very brazen. He can appreciate that.] Perhaps mystery is just the medicine for this ailment of curiosity, you're correct in that. Though I doubt I could get bored of you, Faith. You're a thousand mysteries, and fantastic company besides.
[He takes a sip of his coffee, letting her take what she wants of the cigarette. It's not like he's running direly low on tobacco.]
Travel is the greatest love of my life. I've crossed this country... [He has to think about it, actually, but he comes to the number fairly quickly,] Four times, back and forth. I have a list of favorite places, but this is certainly not one of them.
[His face is somewhat familiar, if only because of his facial hair, but she can't pinpoint exactly where she'd seen it before. It does occur to her that it's probably because he's wanted, but if Faith took a bounty she tended to focus on a different sort of criminal. Usually those who went out of their way to hurt women. Or kids.
Taking a long drag of the pilfered cigarette, a smile grows on her lips before she exhales handing it back to him after he's done sipping his coffee.] And if you keep it up with these compliments I won't get bored of you either.
[Although he's plenty interesting outside of that. She perks up at the mention of how many times he'd crossed the country.] Impressive. I've only got crossed the country, Boston to California once. But I'm just getting started. [And heading back to California is unlikely. Still, there were other parts of the country to see.] And maybe someday I'll go beyond that. Always wanted to check out Europe.
As it turns out, I have plenty more flattery to offer. [He takes the cigarette back and has another drag, then motions with the hand which holds the smoke.]
I've been tempted to see Europe, myself, but I would feel like a man detached. There's a fine line between freedom and disassociation, and I try to stay well away from losing what semblance of connection I've got.
[Dutch pries his attention from the window to look back at Faith, his searching eyes seeking something out of her expression. She's not the type to be seeking out culture and refinement. Perhaps she's looking for freedom and the wild things still untouched by greed, herself.] And what would you wish to see in the old countries, if you don't mind me askin'?
I'm sure you do. [She laughs playfully, leaning back to return her attention to her own cup of coffee. He was a smooth talker and she can't help but enjoy his way with words.
His talk of connection and freedom colors her expression a bit though and he'll no doubt notice it. She's got nothing holding her here. Not really. No family. No one to care about really. Only people to run from and avoid. Except maybe Angel, but he had his own problems. She really just wants to find someplace where she feels like she belongs. Where she's needed and has a place that feels like hers. She's not had that. Even being called as a Slayer ultimately left her trailing Buffy around for scraps. Maybe if she got further away she wouldn't feel it as keenly.] Don't know exactly. Something new, I guess. Something I haven't found here. A new start?
[He notices with a quickness, that longing and lost look. It's a look he has the most experience in finding and touching upon. To see an individual go from longing to contentment has been his life's calling, it feels. To lead the lost, and build the world of acceptance for those who long for it.
Dutch nods with an open expression, one that speaks empathy and hints at a solution. He doesn't break his attention from Faith.]
It doesn't necessitate goin' to another continent to find a new life, Faith. What you need, at least if you're willin' to take outside advice, is somethin' that allows you the freedom to be who you are, and the acceptance of what you can do. Tell me, have you ever considered surroundin' yourself with like minds? [He gestures as though to have her hold her skepticism for a moment.] Not, of course, to say that you aren't peerless, I know you've got more than your fair share of unique abilities, at least accordin' to your arsenal, and how you hold yourself. Just... people who similarly strive to live freely, to live. Survival's one thing, my dear, but to taste the sweetness of acceptance and appreciate the freedom that comes from casting off the desire to be a part of a society that don't seem to fit.
It's what I've done, what my family has done. We've come to the edge of what civilization has to offer, saw it was lackin', and decided to play games with it, rather than ingratiate ourselves to it. And if you allow it, I'd be honored to offer a glimpse. If you don't feel like you would find comfort in travelin' this beautiful country with me'n mine, you're at no call or accord to. We've got all manner of folk who come and go as they please, but they have a home with us, no matter how far they stray.
[She listens, alternating from not quite meeting his gaze and staring down at her cup. It's tempting. Of course, it is. But she's scared of it too. People close to her had an uncanny habit of ending up dead, for one thing. For a second thing, living and travelling with a group would make it harder and harder to hide what she was and what she hunted.
Her coffee's getting cold. For something to do and delay an answer, she moves over to the carafe to fill it up with some of the still-warm liquid. She'll need to say something.] Sounds nice. [She clasps her cup with both hands, tapping the side with a finger.] What's the catch? [Surely there was one? Outside of the dangers she brought along with her already.]
Catch is, you'd be running with a rowdy group of outlaws. Probably get a bounty on your own head eventually. You'd be puttin' yourself in a situation where you'd have to pay in on occasion, just to keep your friends and you afloat. Not necessarily monetarily, information's just as good.
Ain't so bad, all things considered.
[Dutch isn't lying, and isn't exactly omitting anything important. The finer details could be ironed out in time. He still doesn't quite have an idea of what she's about, but then again, he isn't sure what Trelawney is about, either, and that man has been running with them for years.
He tilts his head at her nervousness that she tries to hide under aloofness. The thought comes to mind that most people named after a virtue had very little of it, and his favorite virtue is that which she lacks. His tone goes low and careful, like he's cushioning her emotions in it.]
Faith, I'd ask only that you put an ounce of trust in me. You are welcome at any time.
[She suspected as much about Dutch, so his mention of outlaws only earns him a small quirk of the brow from over her cup, which she sets on the table beside the carafe. Faith's been on her own for a while. Too long. It's easier, yes. But the loneliness has been eating at her.
Trust is hard for her. She's been betrayed one too many times. Opening herself up to the potential for that hurt again? It's terrifying. Faith's arms cross, wrapping around her middle. It's a long moment before her gaze rises up to meet his again.
Dutch certainly had a way with words. A way that's hard to argue with and that hit to her core.] I'll come to take a look. Can't make any promises that I'll stay, but they way you talk it up, might as well see.
['talk it up' gets a chuckle out of him, still warm and rough, like a good whiskey.] Oh, if I was talkin' it up, I'd call it paradise on earth. A camp of gentlemen and kind women. It assuredly is not. The cook can't cook, the women are bawdy, and the men ain't gentle. They're respectable, most of 'em, provided you can take a little shit thrown your way. It is only what you make it.
[Dutch slips away from the window to set the cup aside, and finishes off his cigarette, putting it out.] And of course, there's a matter of work. Assumin' you ain't in the habit of bein' a scullery maid of some measure, you'd be asked to provide assistance when guns are needed. Guard duty, probably, if you ain't busy doin' what you do, while you stay with us. The odd job here'n there, if you ain't averse to some light robbery.
[He moves back towards her, more bold as he sets a hand on her shoulder, his voice conspiratorial.] Show my boys up when it comes to handlin' weapons. You've got the posture of a woman who knows what she's good at, and I see potential in takin' those men's egos down a peg. They're damn good, but they don't need to feel like they're the pinnacle of gunmanship.
I wouldn't want a camp of gentlemen and kind women, anyway. And I can throw back whatever they send my way, plus some more. [She could talk shit with the best of them and isn't one to shy away from witty banter. Faith looks a little uncertain on the matter of guns and helping with robberies though. It didn't really fit with her aims of redeeming herself. It was hard to avoid killing in this day and age, especially as a woman on her own when she needed to protect herself or others. Not all monsters were demons, after all. Still, what might she be signing herself up for throwing in with this lot?
The hand on her shoulder isn't shirked away despite that uncertainty lingering in her mind. Faith wonders just how much she's going to regret this, but she's drawn to the potential all the same. A place to belong.] I don't like killing people that don't deserve killing, I'll just say that right out. But I would help protect your group if it comes to that. [She's gotta draw the line somewhere to keep from descending to the darkness she'd let consume her once already.
Faith's smile turns devilish at the prospect of putting Dutch's 'boys' in their place. That is certainly something that appeals to her] I'm good with guns, sure. But if you really want me to take them down a peg, should have me challenge them to a fistfight. Don't worry, I won't bruise them up too bad.
Good. We try to keep casualties to a minimum, and try to keep innocent lives out of the equation. Though, when it's a matter of them or us... [He lets the thought trail off like his hand does, moving away from her shoulder, letting his fingertips linger a moment, and he finds a chair to settle down in, pulling one leg up to hook his ankle up over his knee. He's still appraising her, and probably would be doing that for a while. Faith is a riddle, and he so enjoys riddles.]
Some of them would balk at hittin' a lady, but most would relish the idea of throwin' their weight around. Personally, I'd be entertained to see Bill knocked on his ass. He's big, he's strong and proud, but he's about as intelligent as a pound of ground chuck. You probably saw him at the bar last night. The nasal, bearded one tryin' to pick a fight with that pockmarked feller at the bar.
[He can imagine it, too; Faith, all thin frame, self-confidence and unassuming, taking down the giant wall of man. Bill won't know what to do with himself. The men will all line up to test their mettle, and he's certain most would lose. Not his best boys, though. They wouldn't dare test themselves, they'd never question Dutch's eye for things, and wouldn't question that she's able to keep up with them.
And yet, Faith is still so vulnerable. Vulnerable in the way all that he takes in are. Lost adrift in streams of society, trying to swim upstream. They all came to him, tired of fighting alone, tired of feeling the cold shoulders of all that passed them. In their way, Dutch and his crew are, every one of them, glad for the company of misfits like themselves. They're a wolf pack made of outcasts from other packs.
And she seems just the type. She is the whole package. His expectations are high for her, but he has a feeling that she's the kind to exceed those. And he's not too sure why, but he feels that she's just the kind of challenge he's been looking for in other ways, as well.]
[A small shiver runs up her spine at his lingering touch, both for the presense of his fingers and the implications of what they might have to do to survive. This is certainly all a mistake, still, she can't seem to stop herself from making it. She wants to take that chance. A chance that she might find what she'd been looking for.]
Yeah, I remember him. [He's been a little hard to miss with his size and the volume of his companion.] Him and that loud Irishman seemed to be looking for trouble.
[She wonders how long she'll be able to stay with them before they started to question just who or what she was. Beating up men and being good with a weapon is one thing, but Faith could do far more than that. More than any normal human being could. A concern for another time. For now, she's just going to see where this road takes her.]
[Dutch's expression breaks out into a grin and he gives a dismissive wave of his hand.] Sean? He's one of those loud ones I told you about. He never stops makin' noise. Talks in his sleep, too. And those two're always up to some trouble or another. We have to keep leashes on both of 'em or they wind up pissin' off half the town. Good men, though. Sean especially. That kid's got more energy to him than half the camp combined.
[He's very proud of all his boys, it seems. Even Bill, who, despite all his flaws is exceptionally loyal. If there's one person Dutch knows would never betray him, it's Bill. He doesn't even put that kind of faith in some of the long-standing members.
He wonders just how loyal Faith is to what she believes in. No matter what she does, or what she's hiding, Dutch is more concerned about one thing: her discretion. He's already offered an invitation to see what the gang's about, and won't renege on that.]
And all these folks in our camp, they came the way they are. I'd never ask for anyone to change themselves or what they do, to conform to some arbitrary notion of how folks oughta be. My favorite author says, a man can't change his nature, and I say why try? Embrace it. Embrace your nature, and we'll embrace it with you, Miss Lehane.
[He knows precisely which point of pressure he's leaning on, trying to eke out some hint of her nature that she hasn't already offered up.]
[If Faith had run across Dutch and his group she probably wouldn't have even hesitated to join them with how desperate she'd been to belong somewhere and she'd been that more desperate to show off and damn the consequences. She likes to think slightly wiser than she used to be, although the idea of it still draws her. The way he talks about them, it's like family.
Faith lets out an amused laugh at the notion that she could be fully herself with them. It's a nice thought, but she doesn't look like she entirely believes him.] Embrace my nature, huh? Be careful what you wish for, Dutch. My nature is not for the faint of heart. [And not easily believed for that matter.]
[That statement draws a rough laugh out of Dutch, unbound by politeness. He's not sorry for how that hits him as a threat without teeth or merit.]
And what makes you think I'm scared of any nature? Provided you ain't in the habit of cannibalism or reckless murder, I think we can see eye to eye in this particular arrangement. It's taken me years to come to the conclusion that I am a very good judge of character. All of my people, they're all sharp, but with their hearts in the right place. By my invitation, I'm implyin' the same of you, Faith.
[She does look slightly irritated by his laughing at her, but she likes Dutch enough not to get too upset about it or sock him in the nose. And the words he follows up with do soothe the slight ding to her ego.
There's also the matter that he doesn't know what she is since she's not saying. Partly because she does fear that if she were to explain he might go back on his offer or he thought her crazy. What he might do if he did discover the truth and did believe it? She's no idea. How people reacted to that sort of thing is hard to predict.]
Well, then I'll do my best to live up to your expectations, Mr. Van Der Linde.
[ooc: want to close this one out and then we can do some kind of follow-up in the future? or another meme somewhere down the line? I'm really enjoying this. <3 ]
[OOC: I'm adoring this line, myself! If you find a meme you want to drop onto with them, I'm here for it! Just as a head's up, I prefer prose form, myself. If you want to get a hold of me, my Plurk is CuriouslyHigh or discord Curiously High#0126
Also, I'm being sent by Faith getting into it with Dutch.
edit to add: And I've been thinking about a modern-times AU if you'd prefer!]
[ooc: I'm fine with prose, so that's fine with me and we can do that in the future, I have zero preference. I don't have a Plurk anymore but I do have a Discord, I just sent you a friend request: bisky#3564.
It's been an amusing interaction for me too and I look forward to seeing where it goes. I adored RDR2, so I kind of love the opportunity of tossing mine at people who play characters from it.
Also, I do like having Faith be in Dutch's time since it brings a lot of interesting dynamics into it that I'm enjoying playing out with her. But if you do want to try modern AU stuff with him though at some point, I'd definitely toss her at him.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
For faithandplans
[Faith's not entirely sure what she thinks of Dutch. She's well aware that he's trouble, but she's not exactly a saint herself. So while having some older man over she barely knows might not be her brightest of ideas, she's willing to risk it. Besides, she can handle herself.
Her head is pounding, but she still needs to drag herself out of bed and be somewhat presentable. That involves tossing on a dress rather than her nightclothes. Faith much preferred men's pants-- much easier to fight in, but this gets her less suspicious eyes.
Faith curses under her breath when she hears the light rap on the door. She didn't have the chance to hide her weapons laying against her dressing and on it. At least some guns, a crossbow, and knives aren't entirely unusual in these parts. Although odd for a woman to carry around with her.
Before opening the door, Faith does grab the wooden stake off her dresser to stuff it under her pillow. That would be harder to explain than the rest. Then she gets the door, wincing a bit at the sunlight that assaults her eyeballs, quickly closing her eyes and ushering him in.] Son of a bitch, why is it so bright?
no subject
He's not entirely sure what to make of the young woman, to be honest. She has the spark of someone individual, someone with the drive and heart to truly make a mark upon the world. It's a heartening thing to see, when it comes down to it. Dutch can't say he's ever been anything but taken by those who live their own lives unrepentant of their personalities, their individuality, their brashness and fire. So many people in their world let the rules of common society snuff out that flame before it's much more than a spark. He can't abide by that kind of thing. Faith is, however, stronger than any shit like that. She has eschewed the normal. And that's a delight.
As he walks back with a dainty little package of pastries, and a smaller bag of coffee grounds - freshly ground, none of this tinned shit he often found himself having to endure - he keeps his head tilted downward. Not just to shield his eyes from the sun due to the persistent thrum of a hangover, but to keep his face from being recognized. It's second nature now, to stay incognito, to obfuscate himself so as to keep his family safe.
After knocking on the door and waiting patiently, he nods his good morning to Faith, and steps in, immediately taking in his surroundings. His voice is quieter than the boisterous thunder it had been the night prior, but not out of lack of enthusiasm, but rather, for the necessity to keep himself from growing nauseous due to the loud sounds.
Weapons. Weapons everywhere. A twitch of a smile lifts his mustache up on one side, and he makes his way to the closest table, to open the box of pastries.]
Here you go, my dear. [he offers over a muffin.]
To soak up what's left of the alcohol.
[He has his own croissant in hand shortly after.] Have you got a coffee pot? I'll be glad to start some. [For himself, if nothing else.]
You certainly aren't here to make nice. [he nods subtly to the weapons.] Woe be to those who cross the path of Faith Lehane.
no subject
Faith's stomach starts to growl the moment she eyes the muffin which she gladly snatches out of his hand.] Thanks, sugar plum. [It's teasing. She might not be used to people calling her 'dear'. She gestures to the percolator resting the far counter, taking a very unladylike bite out of her muffin, moving to sit on the edge of her bed.
Her gaze follows his to the weapons.] Oh, I can still make nice. I can just bite back if anyone thinks they can get the better of me. A woman, traveling alone, I'm sure you can guess how some men think they can take advantage. [It's not a lie, entirely. But the arsenal served a different purpose than protection from mortal men.]
no subject
No offense intended, Miss, I call most every woman dear. Even well armed, fully dangerous ones. All this is far more than what's necessary for self defense, even for all the dangers of bein' a woman. I'd surmise you're out for blood, out for a bounty, or out for chaos, none of which I could ever begrudge you.
[He takes a bite of his croissant, and points his fingers at her from over the pastry, having a lean against a wall, brushing a flake of the food off his sleeve as he does.]
No need to assume I have any desire to pry. I simply feel that a young woman who feels the need to have an arsenal ain't just protectin' herself from unscrupulous men. Even my best-armed men don't have the range of...
[He points to the crossbow]
Interesting weapons at their disposal.
no subject
Maybe I was out for chaos, even a few years ago. But I've settled. [Her eyes gleam with mischief.] A little bit.
I take bounties sometimes when I need the money. I hunt too. Crossbows are a bit harder to load than a bow but more powerful. And better than a gun if I need to be quiet about it. [Her muffin finished and she's already feeling better, although it still feels like something is tap dancing on her skull. She gets up from her spot to get the crossbow off the dresser, grabbing the goat's foot lever beside it. Her foot went into the stirrup and the lever pulled back the string in a fluid and practiced motion to snap it into place. She makes it look far easier than it is.] You ever use one?
no subject
Can't say as I have. We've got long bows, but I'm no archer, either.
[He's terrifying with his pistols and revolvers, though. Someone had to teach his boys how to aim and shoot with deadly precision with a swiftness, and he was that someone. He taught all the girls, too, or well, he taught the ones that Susan had trouble with. Grimshaw was a holy terror with a shotgun, but when a lady needed to learn handguns, he was there.
But this young woman's got her own particular brand of proficiency, he assumes as she works the string into place with near elegant ease.
There's a hint of boyish mischief hidden under the gruff veneer at the idea of trying something new, though.]
I don't believe I've ever seen one used, to tell you the truth.
no subject
[Faith flips the crossbow around in her hand to hand him the stock, so he can feel it in his hands. It's not loaded, but she also didn't feel like getting an accidental bolt to the gut.] I'd be happy to show you, sometime.
no subject
Whoever you're lookin' to deal with, you gotta deal with quietly.
[Or so he surmises with her choice of weapons. He hands the crossbow back and slides out his knife from its sheath at his waist, just behind the silver-plated, pearl-handled Schofield that it matches. It's a clean, well maintained, very balanced hunting knife, decorated with Art Nouveau work at the flat of its blade. He hands it over after a flourish to turn it handle-side towards her.]
One of my sons, he's quite fast with his knives. Learned to use 'em well before I found him and took him in. He's deadlier with handguns now, but that don't mean he lost any fire with a blade. Another of my group, he prefers throwin' knives and long bows. Big feller, too, but one of the stealthiest men I've ever known.
Actually, come to think of it, I think you'd like most of 'em. Strong'n deadly, willin' to fight for the freedom to do as we please. You don't seem the type to much appreciate societal norms.
[Just look at what she's got where she's staying.]
no subject
Her eyes gleam at the sight of the blade, clearly interested and taking it gladly. It means he's got a certain amount of trust that she's not going to use it on him. Or it's because he's certain of his own skills to defend against her. She tests the weight of it in her hand, flipping it around in her grip.
Looking up from the blade, her eyebrow quirking.] You tryin' to adopt me too, Mr. Van Der Linde? [She hands the blade back.] Last man that took me in turned out to be a snake. [She cants her head up at him, challenging and with an undercurrent of flirtation. But then most of Faith's words sounded like thinly veiled flirtation.] Are you a snake, Dutch?
no subject
When she asks, a chuckle enters his voice, and he takes the blade away with a slow movement, the blade flashing towards Faith as he brings it back down to its sheath.]
Snakes strike those who get close, only as part of their nature. To call me a snake would presume I strike indiscriminately.
[Dutch's voice dips lower, quieter. If she's flirting, he's seducing.]
Do I look like a man who lashes out as a matter of course, Faith? Surely I show more restraint and cunning than that. No, as far as predators go, I'm far more calculating.
[He steps away from Faith, a smile playing in his expression as he strides over to fill two cups with coffee from the percolator. He hands her one.]
But I will not deny my predatorial nature.
no subject
Good, if you did deny it. I'd probably trust you even less. [Faith laughs as she takes the offered cup, it's not a bitter sound but there's certainly many bad experiences caught up in that laugh.] All men are beasts. It's all about figuring out what kind.
no subject
Most women are, as well. What kind are you? I'd place money down that you're no snake. A cat of some sort, perhaps.
[He takes a sip of the coffee, the sharp flavor soothing his headache immediately. Thank god for small favors. He looks Faith over. While she's wild, and by no means the sort to fuck with, she has her damages, and her weaknesses, and she seems to wear some of them on her sleeve. It makes Dutch wonder just how much is hidden.]
A panther, I'd say. Dark, cunning, rare to spot, rarer still to survive an encounter with one. That would make me a lucky man.
no subject
[Panther, though? She likes that.]
no subject
[As she finds a seat, Dutch stays standing, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, tapping one out to light it with a match. He flicks the match out with a quick motion of his hand, and takes a longer drag. It was after that, that he leaned against the window frame, looking out at the street.]
no subject
Still, that didn't mean she couldn't tease.] No plans as of yet. But I'm keeping my options open.
no subject
[For once, Dutch didn't start to proselytize about the importance of freedom in a country so culturally held back by European notions of law and civility. He was enjoying his cigarette, his coffee, and company. His gears were working, though, thinking over the few pieces of the puzzle that was Faith Lehane, which he already knew. She was well armed, sharp as a well-maintained knife, herself. Beautiful and skilled. He wouldn't deny her attractiveness, he wasn't insensitive to young beauty.
In fact, youthful beauty was his favorite type. But he kept that to himself, happy enough to simply flirt and seduce in a sparring dance.
He exhaled his smoke, and smiled to himself. The gang had only recently arrived to this town - or rather just outside of it - about a week prior, and already he found someone exceptional in her ways.]
You're a woman that makes a man wonder. I can't help but wonder just what a young woman like you is doing in some two-penny shithole like this town, if not huntin' bounties. You plan on divulging, or are you gonna stay an enigma?
no subject
[She reaches a hand up to snatch the cigarette out of his hand and helps herself to a drag, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she does.] So how about we both just keep up the mystery or... hell, we might grow bored of each other and then where will we be?
[Besides, she couldn't go running around telling anyone who'd listen that she's a chosen one who slew vampires and killed demons from one town to the next, following the papers for leads. Not even because it would cause panic, but more likely because sure as shit they'd try and toss her in a nuthouse.] Bounties are fine for cash- [So long as they weren't her own. But she's far from California, so it's unlikely hers will catch up to her here.] But let's just say I like to travel and leave it at that? Some places nicer than others.
no subject
She'd have seen his face glaring out from wanted posters if she was anywhere west of here, and if she wanted to take him in, she would have already. She doesn't seem like a patient woman.
He looks at her with an amused smile when she steals his cigarette, and raises an eyebrow to it. Very brazen. He can appreciate that.] Perhaps mystery is just the medicine for this ailment of curiosity, you're correct in that. Though I doubt I could get bored of you, Faith. You're a thousand mysteries, and fantastic company besides.
[He takes a sip of his coffee, letting her take what she wants of the cigarette. It's not like he's running direly low on tobacco.]
Travel is the greatest love of my life. I've crossed this country... [He has to think about it, actually, but he comes to the number fairly quickly,] Four times, back and forth. I have a list of favorite places, but this is certainly not one of them.
no subject
Taking a long drag of the pilfered cigarette, a smile grows on her lips before she exhales handing it back to him after he's done sipping his coffee.] And if you keep it up with these compliments I won't get bored of you either.
[Although he's plenty interesting outside of that. She perks up at the mention of how many times he'd crossed the country.] Impressive. I've only got crossed the country, Boston to California once. But I'm just getting started. [And heading back to California is unlikely. Still, there were other parts of the country to see.] And maybe someday I'll go beyond that. Always wanted to check out Europe.
no subject
[He takes the cigarette back and has another drag, then motions with the hand which holds the smoke.]
I've been tempted to see Europe, myself, but I would feel like a man detached. There's a fine line between freedom and disassociation, and I try to stay well away from losing what semblance of connection I've got.
[Dutch pries his attention from the window to look back at Faith, his searching eyes seeking something out of her expression. She's not the type to be seeking out culture and refinement. Perhaps she's looking for freedom and the wild things still untouched by greed, herself.] And what would you wish to see in the old countries, if you don't mind me askin'?
no subject
His talk of connection and freedom colors her expression a bit though and he'll no doubt notice it. She's got nothing holding her here. Not really. No family. No one to care about really. Only people to run from and avoid. Except maybe Angel, but he had his own problems. She really just wants to find someplace where she feels like she belongs. Where she's needed and has a place that feels like hers. She's not had that. Even being called as a Slayer ultimately left her trailing Buffy around for scraps. Maybe if she got further away she wouldn't feel it as keenly.] Don't know exactly. Something new, I guess. Something I haven't found here. A new start?
no subject
Dutch nods with an open expression, one that speaks empathy and hints at a solution. He doesn't break his attention from Faith.]
It doesn't necessitate goin' to another continent to find a new life, Faith. What you need, at least if you're willin' to take outside advice, is somethin' that allows you the freedom to be who you are, and the acceptance of what you can do. Tell me, have you ever considered surroundin' yourself with like minds? [He gestures as though to have her hold her skepticism for a moment.] Not, of course, to say that you aren't peerless, I know you've got more than your fair share of unique abilities, at least accordin' to your arsenal, and how you hold yourself. Just... people who similarly strive to live freely, to live. Survival's one thing, my dear, but to taste the sweetness of acceptance and appreciate the freedom that comes from casting off the desire to be a part of a society that don't seem to fit.
It's what I've done, what my family has done. We've come to the edge of what civilization has to offer, saw it was lackin', and decided to play games with it, rather than ingratiate ourselves to it. And if you allow it, I'd be honored to offer a glimpse. If you don't feel like you would find comfort in travelin' this beautiful country with me'n mine, you're at no call or accord to. We've got all manner of folk who come and go as they please, but they have a home with us, no matter how far they stray.
no subject
Her coffee's getting cold. For something to do and delay an answer, she moves over to the carafe to fill it up with some of the still-warm liquid. She'll need to say something.] Sounds nice. [She clasps her cup with both hands, tapping the side with a finger.] What's the catch? [Surely there was one? Outside of the dangers she brought along with her already.]
no subject
Ain't so bad, all things considered.
[Dutch isn't lying, and isn't exactly omitting anything important. The finer details could be ironed out in time. He still doesn't quite have an idea of what she's about, but then again, he isn't sure what Trelawney is about, either, and that man has been running with them for years.
He tilts his head at her nervousness that she tries to hide under aloofness. The thought comes to mind that most people named after a virtue had very little of it, and his favorite virtue is that which she lacks. His tone goes low and careful, like he's cushioning her emotions in it.]
Faith, I'd ask only that you put an ounce of trust in me. You are welcome at any time.
no subject
Trust is hard for her. She's been betrayed one too many times. Opening herself up to the potential for that hurt again? It's terrifying. Faith's arms cross, wrapping around her middle. It's a long moment before her gaze rises up to meet his again.
Dutch certainly had a way with words. A way that's hard to argue with and that hit to her core.] I'll come to take a look. Can't make any promises that I'll stay, but they way you talk it up, might as well see.
no subject
[Dutch slips away from the window to set the cup aside, and finishes off his cigarette, putting it out.] And of course, there's a matter of work. Assumin' you ain't in the habit of bein' a scullery maid of some measure, you'd be asked to provide assistance when guns are needed. Guard duty, probably, if you ain't busy doin' what you do, while you stay with us. The odd job here'n there, if you ain't averse to some light robbery.
[He moves back towards her, more bold as he sets a hand on her shoulder, his voice conspiratorial.] Show my boys up when it comes to handlin' weapons. You've got the posture of a woman who knows what she's good at, and I see potential in takin' those men's egos down a peg. They're damn good, but they don't need to feel like they're the pinnacle of gunmanship.
no subject
The hand on her shoulder isn't shirked away despite that uncertainty lingering in her mind. Faith wonders just how much she's going to regret this, but she's drawn to the potential all the same. A place to belong.] I don't like killing people that don't deserve killing, I'll just say that right out. But I would help protect your group if it comes to that. [She's gotta draw the line somewhere to keep from descending to the darkness she'd let consume her once already.
Faith's smile turns devilish at the prospect of putting Dutch's 'boys' in their place. That is certainly something that appeals to her] I'm good with guns, sure. But if you really want me to take them down a peg, should have me challenge them to a fistfight. Don't worry, I won't bruise them up too bad.
no subject
Some of them would balk at hittin' a lady, but most would relish the idea of throwin' their weight around. Personally, I'd be entertained to see Bill knocked on his ass. He's big, he's strong and proud, but he's about as intelligent as a pound of ground chuck. You probably saw him at the bar last night. The nasal, bearded one tryin' to pick a fight with that pockmarked feller at the bar.
[He can imagine it, too; Faith, all thin frame, self-confidence and unassuming, taking down the giant wall of man. Bill won't know what to do with himself. The men will all line up to test their mettle, and he's certain most would lose. Not his best boys, though. They wouldn't dare test themselves, they'd never question Dutch's eye for things, and wouldn't question that she's able to keep up with them.
And yet, Faith is still so vulnerable. Vulnerable in the way all that he takes in are. Lost adrift in streams of society, trying to swim upstream. They all came to him, tired of fighting alone, tired of feeling the cold shoulders of all that passed them. In their way, Dutch and his crew are, every one of them, glad for the company of misfits like themselves. They're a wolf pack made of outcasts from other packs.
And she seems just the type. She is the whole package. His expectations are high for her, but he has a feeling that she's the kind to exceed those. And he's not too sure why, but he feels that she's just the kind of challenge he's been looking for in other ways, as well.]
no subject
Yeah, I remember him. [He's been a little hard to miss with his size and the volume of his companion.] Him and that loud Irishman seemed to be looking for trouble.
[She wonders how long she'll be able to stay with them before they started to question just who or what she was. Beating up men and being good with a weapon is one thing, but Faith could do far more than that. More than any normal human being could. A concern for another time. For now, she's just going to see where this road takes her.]
no subject
Sean? He's one of those loud ones I told you about. He never stops makin' noise. Talks in his sleep, too. And those two're always up to some trouble or another. We have to keep leashes on both of 'em or they wind up pissin' off half the town. Good men, though. Sean especially. That kid's got more energy to him than half the camp combined.
[He's very proud of all his boys, it seems. Even Bill, who, despite all his flaws is exceptionally loyal. If there's one person Dutch knows would never betray him, it's Bill. He doesn't even put that kind of faith in some of the long-standing members.
He wonders just how loyal Faith is to what she believes in. No matter what she does, or what she's hiding, Dutch is more concerned about one thing: her discretion. He's already offered an invitation to see what the gang's about, and won't renege on that.]
And all these folks in our camp, they came the way they are. I'd never ask for anyone to change themselves or what they do, to conform to some arbitrary notion of how folks oughta be. My favorite author says, a man can't change his nature, and I say why try? Embrace it. Embrace your nature, and we'll embrace it with you, Miss Lehane.
[He knows precisely which point of pressure he's leaning on, trying to eke out some hint of her nature that she hasn't already offered up.]
no subject
Faith lets out an amused laugh at the notion that she could be fully herself with them. It's a nice thought, but she doesn't look like she entirely believes him.] Embrace my nature, huh? Be careful what you wish for, Dutch. My nature is not for the faint of heart. [And not easily believed for that matter.]
no subject
And what makes you think I'm scared of any nature? Provided you ain't in the habit of cannibalism or reckless murder, I think we can see eye to eye in this particular arrangement. It's taken me years to come to the conclusion that I am a very good judge of character. All of my people, they're all sharp, but with their hearts in the right place. By my invitation, I'm implyin' the same of you, Faith.
no subject
There's also the matter that he doesn't know what she is since she's not saying. Partly because she does fear that if she were to explain he might go back on his offer or he thought her crazy. What he might do if he did discover the truth and did believe it? She's no idea. How people reacted to that sort of thing is hard to predict.]
Well, then I'll do my best to live up to your expectations, Mr. Van Der Linde.
[ooc: want to close this one out and then we can do some kind of follow-up in the future? or another meme somewhere down the line? I'm really enjoying this. <3 ]
no subject
Also, I'm being sent by Faith getting into it with Dutch.
edit to add: And I've been thinking about a modern-times AU if you'd prefer!]
no subject
It's been an amusing interaction for me too and I look forward to seeing where it goes. I adored RDR2, so I kind of love the opportunity of tossing mine at people who play characters from it.
Also, I do like having Faith be in Dutch's time since it brings a lot of interesting dynamics into it that I'm enjoying playing out with her. But if you do want to try modern AU stuff with him though at some point, I'd definitely toss her at him.]