“I think you’d kick my ass if I stuck this somewhere and forgot it,” she replies with a touch of cheer. “One sec.”
She pulls out her communicator to scroll. She’d put the post in her bookmarks somewhere, but it’ll take a minute to dig out. And why not drag it out? Make him anticipate it.
“Yeah, but you haven’t read back as far as I have,” she replies. Former teenager who could tap out sixty words per minute with just her thumbs, as her parents complained. Tess keeps scrolling, finds it, hits play, and holds the communicator up, speaker towards Arthur.
A voice floats out as it starts:
John says I just need to talk into this thing here. So here I am. Talkin’. Ain’t technology grand. Heard they could make a man fly but never thought I’d see the day when they’d get a whole ship up in the clouds. I can’t tell if I’m even gettin’ through to you, but if I am, I’ll tell you my name. I’m Abigail Marston, and I'mma let everyone know right now, I don’t do funny business.
He's lucky he's sitting down. Hearing Abigail's voice is enough to about knock him on his ass, and he reaches out right away to take Tess' hand in his own. He looks at a spot on the table, unseeing as he just tries to listen. He didn't always get along with Abigail, but she's a hell of a woman. And she sounds like home.
"Where'd you find that?"
His voice is soft and pinched, emotions choking him up.
"She said that herself, called him a hillbilly and an inconsistent bastard and that he brought her ugly flowers."
She grins and hands him the communicator so he can go through it on his own, Abigail's post still on the screen. She can dig up John's later.
"Curiosity," she replies to the question. "Well, sort of. Another inmate was asking about how long it takes inmates to graduate, so I thought I'd go through and see if I could find an average, but..." A vague hand wave. Completely impossible to tell, too many posts to comb through to compare. "Doesn't matter. It was worth it for this, yeah?"
Alright. So I guess this is what I signed up for. 'snot New Austin and it sure ain't Mexico, but I'll take it. My name's John Marston, a warden an' a little ways from home. I don't expect any of you've heard of Bill Williamson or Javier Escuella 'round these parts? If you seen 'im let me know.
That's the man who came closest to ever being his brother. His real brother, not just a friendly hey, brother at a bar. Arthur misses him like a limb, the stupid mutt.
"What's he doin' pallin' around with Bill and Javier, huh? Jesus. Now I know for sure he had to be years ahead of me. Ain't nobody askin' about Bill Williamson if he weren't the last man on earth left."
Arthur has gotten very used to all the weird time stuff on the Barge, by now, but it still feels a little strange. Maybe Arthur didn't survive, for this John. Maybe he died rescuing Abigail, and she got away.
"Someone asked if they were troublemakers and he said 'something like that', so maybe he's looking for them for some other reason," Tess replies. "And he said Abigail was in trouble, so who knows, could be the same time."
"Different world, maybe," he says, quietly, as he takes the communicator back from her so he can listen to the message again. He's silent a moment, then looks back up at her.
"Thank you for showin' me this, Tess. I - I ain't realized how bad I missed 'em. Feels like it's been half a lifetime."
She nudges the toe of his boot with her own under the table.
"Any time," she says. "I'm used to be separated from my guys, but you're such a family guy, that must sting sometimes. Figured you'd like a little boost."
"It's true," she replies. She could insist upon it, actually. "Maybe not in the traditional sense, but you do that blood is thicker than water thing. When something happens to my guys, they're usually just guys I work with, but your gang is tighter than that. Otherwise... why go to all this effort?"
"You're right. I know not all gangs was like ours, but I never knew another."
He thinks again, then needs to make sure he says it, out loud, like he'd be betraying the memory of each man and woman they ever lost if he doesn't say it:
"They are like family. More family'n the ones I was born with, or - or the one I never really could make."
"I'm gonna get one of 'em their life back," he says. He doesn't often talk about John like he's dead, though he does really believe he died. He's never had to mourn him, because he's going to get his deal, and then it won't ever have happened.
"But after I do that, they gotta go have their own life. Miss Adler, too. Hangin' around, it ain't gonna help any of us."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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"Let's see when the bastard wakes up," he says, first of all.
"Alright. That was it from me. You get on with your..."
Mess.
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“I’ve got something for you, actually,” she replies. “If you’ve got a minute.”
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"Found something in the back of a drawer?"
He sits back down, though.
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She pulls out her communicator to scroll. She’d put the post in her bookmarks somewhere, but it’ll take a minute to dig out. And why not drag it out? Make him anticipate it.
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"What're you lookin' for on there? I got one of these too, you know."
She's being really mysterious, and 'anticipation' is one word for his impatience.
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A voice floats out as it starts:
John says I just need to talk into this thing here. So here I am. Talkin’. Ain’t technology grand. Heard they could make a man fly but never thought I’d see the day when they’d get a whole ship up in the clouds. I can’t tell if I’m even gettin’ through to you, but if I am, I’ll tell you my name. I’m Abigail Marston, and I'mma let everyone know right now, I don’t do funny business.
Tess pauses it and grins.
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He's lucky he's sitting down. Hearing Abigail's voice is enough to about knock him on his ass, and he reaches out right away to take Tess' hand in his own. He looks at a spot on the table, unseeing as he just tries to listen. He didn't always get along with Abigail, but she's a hell of a woman. And she sounds like home.
"Where'd you find that?"
His voice is soft and pinched, emotions choking him up.
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She closes her fingers around his, smiling a little wider.
"Want to hear more?"
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"Hell yes, I wanna hear more," he says, firmly. "This means he was here? How long ago? And was John here too?"
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She presses play:
You cross me, you’re gonna hear about it. You do something I don’t think’s real nice-like, and I’ll find a way of letting you know.
I’m a warden here. I don’t really do authority, but I do know what’s right and what’s wrong.
"He was a warden too, then got demoted for something, but I couldn't find anyone saying what for."
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"For being a damned idiot," Arthur predicts, fondly. "If he hadn't found Abigail and got her to stick around, he'd have been dead long ago."
He takes a breath, then holds a hand out so he can see the message, even if it's just the bar that he has to press to get the audio to start.
"Eleven years ago. Why'd you go that far back?"
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She grins and hands him the communicator so he can go through it on his own, Abigail's post still on the screen. She can dig up John's later.
"Curiosity," she replies to the question. "Well, sort of. Another inmate was asking about how long it takes inmates to graduate, so I thought I'd go through and see if I could find an average, but..." A vague hand wave. Completely impossible to tell, too many posts to comb through to compare. "Doesn't matter. It was worth it for this, yeah?"
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"Hell yeah, it is," he says, firmly. He looks at the screen, then hits play again, just to hear her curse again.
"Don't remember her bein' this crude," he says, with a laugh. "Poor Abigail. Jesus."
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He snorts, then hands it back over to her. "You got any for John? You - did they talk about any of us, much?"
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“Yeah, found a couple,” she replies, clicking into it. “Looking for Bill and Javier, no mention of you that I found. Here.”
It plays:
Alright. So I guess this is what I signed up for. 'snot New Austin and it sure ain't Mexico, but I'll take it. My name's John Marston, a warden an' a little ways from home. I don't expect any of you've heard of Bill Williamson or Javier Escuella 'round these parts? If you seen 'im let me know.
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That's the man who came closest to ever being his brother. His real brother, not just a friendly hey, brother at a bar. Arthur misses him like a limb, the stupid mutt.
"What's he doin' pallin' around with Bill and Javier, huh? Jesus. Now I know for sure he had to be years ahead of me. Ain't nobody askin' about Bill Williamson if he weren't the last man on earth left."
Arthur has gotten very used to all the weird time stuff on the Barge, by now, but it still feels a little strange. Maybe Arthur didn't survive, for this John. Maybe he died rescuing Abigail, and she got away.
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This place has no respect for time, anyway.
"Or maybe it means you pull it off and save her."
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"Different world, maybe," he says, quietly, as he takes the communicator back from her so he can listen to the message again. He's silent a moment, then looks back up at her.
"Thank you for showin' me this, Tess. I - I ain't realized how bad I missed 'em. Feels like it's been half a lifetime."
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"Any time," she says. "I'm used to be separated from my guys, but you're such a family guy, that must sting sometimes. Figured you'd like a little boost."
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"A family guy?"
He considers that. "Never thought of myself as that, tell you the truth."
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"You're right. I know not all gangs was like ours, but I never knew another."
He thinks again, then needs to make sure he says it, out loud, like he'd be betraying the memory of each man and woman they ever lost if he doesn't say it:
"They are like family. More family'n the ones I was born with, or - or the one I never really could make."
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"Pretty cool that you're going to get back to a bunch of them, too."
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"I'm gonna get one of 'em their life back," he says. He doesn't often talk about John like he's dead, though he does really believe he died. He's never had to mourn him, because he's going to get his deal, and then it won't ever have happened.
"But after I do that, they gotta go have their own life. Miss Adler, too. Hangin' around, it ain't gonna help any of us."