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Makes two of us.
[ Like deer that got their antlers tangled. Why would he...? There's a gruff, exasperated sound over the connection. ]
Come get it. [ It wasn't a good enough apology to turn him into a delivery boy. ] Carpenter's workshop. Not the guy with the lumber yard, one that does furniture.
[ He's parked in the outdoor work yard with grease up to his forearms, working on his bike that Billy just had to mess around with. ]
[ Like deer that got their antlers tangled. Why would he...? There's a gruff, exasperated sound over the connection. ]
Come get it. [ It wasn't a good enough apology to turn him into a delivery boy. ] Carpenter's workshop. Not the guy with the lumber yard, one that does furniture.
[ He's parked in the outdoor work yard with grease up to his forearms, working on his bike that Billy just had to mess around with. ]
Daryl, Joan reasons, is from the south. She can think of few better olive branches that aren't actively offensive than the bullshit she's been brewing in her kitchen-- it's nothing magical, just sweet tea, brewed hot with sugar, chilled and poured into a large glass jug. (Joan has no clue the tea house she's been getting the shit from puts aphrodisiacs in their mixes; why would she ask, and why would the shop girl tell her?)
So it's with this under her arm that Joan approaches the carpenter's shop. She smells something that unlocks almost three decades of sense memory, and wanders toward engine grease and sweat. Joan looks over Daryl and his fucking bike the same way a gambler looks over a winning hand: with the kind of practiced disinterest that begs not to be noticed.
"That yours?"
So it's with this under her arm that Joan approaches the carpenter's shop. She smells something that unlocks almost three decades of sense memory, and wanders toward engine grease and sweat. Joan looks over Daryl and his fucking bike the same way a gambler looks over a winning hand: with the kind of practiced disinterest that begs not to be noticed.
"That yours?"
More'n I could give him.
[ More than he had, less than he should have, who fucking knows? It was a cloud of moonshine and anger and lust, the very worst parts of who Daryl used to be, magnified by a thousand by the void. No wonder the kid he'd created there had been twisted too, gone wrong. ]
All versions of him are broken, kid. You don't need me to say it.
[ More than he had, less than he should have, who fucking knows? It was a cloud of moonshine and anger and lust, the very worst parts of who Daryl used to be, magnified by a thousand by the void. No wonder the kid he'd created there had been twisted too, gone wrong. ]
All versions of him are broken, kid. You don't need me to say it.
[ He looks up when she comes in, just long enough to confirm it's the company he thought and then go back to work. If their last interaction had told Daryl anything about Joan, it's that she doesn't stand on manners. ]
Yeah. That freak that comes through, he traded me the parts for it. Runs fine most days.
[ He sets the wrench down, stands and wipes his hands on a rag that absolutely does not clean them. ]
Jacket's upstairs.
Yeah. That freak that comes through, he traded me the parts for it. Runs fine most days.
[ He sets the wrench down, stands and wipes his hands on a rag that absolutely does not clean them. ]
Jacket's upstairs.
[ He has a feeling that's for him, but she hasn't offered so he doesn't ask. ]
Nah. Learned how to convert 'em to run on ethanol a while back.
[ Back home, that is. Here, it was just remembering the finer details and then bartering for the space to ferment the damn corn. ]
Dunno how the hell House kept his golf cart runnin'.
Nah. Learned how to convert 'em to run on ethanol a while back.
[ Back home, that is. Here, it was just remembering the finer details and then bartering for the space to ferment the damn corn. ]
Dunno how the hell House kept his golf cart runnin'.
Ethanol? [Joan whistles the way wolves do in cartoons.] That's fuckin' smart. Jesus. I used to be a mechanic, back home. Never worked on bikes, but- [Joan bends her head a little, walks around to Daryl's side so she can see what he's doing-] looks fucking nice, man.
Oh yeah?
[ He lets the flattery roll of him like it wasn't really meant for him, but he manages not to actually hunch his shoulders a little against it. A mechanic though, that's interesting. ]
Thanks. Didn't realize how much I'd miss all this 'til I didn't have it. Saves me miles.
[ He lets the flattery roll of him like it wasn't really meant for him, but he manages not to actually hunch his shoulders a little against it. A mechanic though, that's interesting. ]
Thanks. Didn't realize how much I'd miss all this 'til I didn't have it. Saves me miles.
[Joan smiles, eyes wide, and if she had any natural beauty it'd shine through in the summer light. She doesn't, though, so her smile's just too sharp and her hair's too red.]
Yeah. Damn. Got all nostalgic for a second, there.
[But her mood's significantly improved. Almost bouncing on her heels, she goes to get the jug.] I been making tea. Fuckin'- apology drink, I guess.
[She still can't make herself say sorry.]
Yeah. Damn. Got all nostalgic for a second, there.
[But her mood's significantly improved. Almost bouncing on her heels, she goes to get the jug.] I been making tea. Fuckin'- apology drink, I guess.
[She still can't make herself say sorry.]
[ Nostalgic. Yeah, he knows that ache. The bike is helpful but every day it reminds him acutely of where he isn't. ]
Alright. This is closer.
[ To a real apology, that is. He looks at the tea, then at Joan. When he takes it, he's essentially hoping for the best that she can be trusted. That smile she'd just shown him had done a lot of the work for her on that account. ]
You didn't have to. Wasn't like I was waitin' out there for folks to be nice to me. [ He pops the cork and takes a swig, not bothering with a glass. ]
Alright. This is closer.
[ To a real apology, that is. He looks at the tea, then at Joan. When he takes it, he's essentially hoping for the best that she can be trusted. That smile she'd just shown him had done a lot of the work for her on that account. ]
You didn't have to. Wasn't like I was waitin' out there for folks to be nice to me. [ He pops the cork and takes a swig, not bothering with a glass. ]
[Daryl will find the jug is filled with sweet tea and lemon slices-- not the best, even Joan will admit that, but she thinks it's about as good as they can get without Lipton packets.]
Yeah, I kinda assume you're not trying to emotionally entrap me. [It's gentle ribbing. It probably comes on too strong. She always does.] Reckon it's the least I can do... considering. Always put my fucking foot in my mouth with you.
[It's not really always, but it feels like it to Joan, someone whose guilt is as overactive as her rage.]
Yeah, I kinda assume you're not trying to emotionally entrap me. [It's gentle ribbing. It probably comes on too strong. She always does.] Reckon it's the least I can do... considering. Always put my fucking foot in my mouth with you.
[It's not really always, but it feels like it to Joan, someone whose guilt is as overactive as her rage.]
[ He knows it, but he might still need Daryl to say it. One more person has to say it, every once and a while Quentin feels like maybe he's starting to understand it at last. Still, it drives him deep enough into his thoughts that he flinches the next time the ax comes down. Daryl moves through a whole other swing while Quentin thinks, and the second crack of hatchet through the logs startles a murmured sorry, I'm sorry out of him.Β
[ He turns to pick his bag back up, eyes on the ground, storm cloud trailing behind him as he lurches back towards the cabin. ] I'll take care of it. I'll get him out of here--tomorrow. Tomorrow, we'll be gone.Β
[ He turns to pick his bag back up, eyes on the ground, storm cloud trailing behind him as he lurches back towards the cabin. ] I'll take care of it. I'll get him out of here--tomorrow. Tomorrow, we'll be gone.Β
[ She gets a flat look for what Daryl is assuming is her sense of humor but it's hot enough out that the drink is nice. Nothing like the soup Georgia turned into in the summers, but it isn't like he remembers to take care of himself any better here than he did back home. ]
You weren't that bad. Weren't the only one that that threw up, either.
[ But he isn't going to narc on Nikolai like that, so he leaves it there. ]
You end up gettin' your stuff back?
You weren't that bad. Weren't the only one that that threw up, either.
[ But he isn't going to narc on Nikolai like that, so he leaves it there. ]
You end up gettin' your stuff back?
[She looks at him with his greasy hair and grey beard, the sweat on his neck and the motor oil on his hands. She wants to touch him. She wonders if he fucks hard.]
[(The aphrodisiacs she doesn't know are in the tea and starting to kick in.)]
Nah. Didn't wanna go back in. Hey, d'you wanna, uh. Go out some time?
[She is trying to be gentle.]
[(The aphrodisiacs she doesn't know are in the tea and starting to kick in.)]
Nah. Didn't wanna go back in. Hey, d'you wanna, uh. Go out some time?
[She is trying to be gentle.]
[ For a moment he doesn't understand what she's asking. He squints at her until it clicks, then he has to turn away to hide how he's immediately worrying his lip between his teeth. He drops the wrench in the tool box and it's noisier than it needed to be. Awkward. ]
I don't 'go out'.
[ But for once Daryl hears how that sounds when he says it. Normal people do what she's doing, even though he has no idea why she'd ask him. He feels a hot prickle start up on the back of his neck and he takes another swig of the tea to buy time, to stop his throat from getting any tighter. ]
I'm a lousy date.
I don't 'go out'.
[ But for once Daryl hears how that sounds when he says it. Normal people do what she's doing, even though he has no idea why she'd ask him. He feels a hot prickle start up on the back of his neck and he takes another swig of the tea to buy time, to stop his throat from getting any tighter. ]
I'm a lousy date.
[As much as Joan enjoys assertive, commanding presences, Rubilykskoye has opened her eyes to the appeal of shy bashfulness. She wonders how shy he'd be while she was touching him. She's sure, in this moment, that she could give him a good time. It would be a kindness. (A selfish kindness. It would be incredibly erotic, she is also sure.)]
[So she gives him space. Lets him take his time.] I'm not great, either. Shocker, I know. [She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.] But I like you, and you're very fucking nice to look at.
[And very much in her league, and kind, empathetic, knows his way around an engine, and-] I wouldn't mind giving you a good time. However you wanna do it.
[So she gives him space. Lets him take his time.] I'm not great, either. Shocker, I know. [She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.] But I like you, and you're very fucking nice to look at.
[And very much in her league, and kind, empathetic, knows his way around an engine, and-] I wouldn't mind giving you a good time. However you wanna do it.
[ She's watching him and Daryl feels like something on a butcher's counter, something that looks good. Something for sale. ]
Don't-- [ A wall goes up with the word, ] Talk about it like that. Like it's a favor.
[ A party gift. He's never going to get used to how sex is just offered here, bartered, traded. Sometimes taken. He gives her a long look, trying to read her while simultaneously trying to lock himself away. Become a surly mask instead of an obviously confused old man. ]
I ain't lookin' for cheap shit.
Don't-- [ A wall goes up with the word, ] Talk about it like that. Like it's a favor.
[ A party gift. He's never going to get used to how sex is just offered here, bartered, traded. Sometimes taken. He gives her a long look, trying to read her while simultaneously trying to lock himself away. Become a surly mask instead of an obviously confused old man. ]
I ain't lookin' for cheap shit.
[If Joan were pretty, she's sure this wouldn't happen. It's not that Daryl thinks she's ugly, exactly, but it wouldn't be so easy to reject her if she looked like a model, like everybody else here does. At this point, it's absurd to take it personally. It doesn't mean anything. It's just how life is.]
Yeah, well, I'm pretty cheap.
[That was pure bitterness, entirely unworthy of the kindness Daryl has shown her, unrelentingly if stubbornly applied. She shakes her head.]
Look, it's whatever. Just an offer, you know. [She looks away, frowning.] All I'm saying is-... thanks. For checking on me. That's all.
[She takes a step back, clearly preparing to turn tail and leave.]
Yeah, well, I'm pretty cheap.
[That was pure bitterness, entirely unworthy of the kindness Daryl has shown her, unrelentingly if stubbornly applied. She shakes her head.]
Look, it's whatever. Just an offer, you know. [She looks away, frowning.] All I'm saying is-... thanks. For checking on me. That's all.
[She takes a step back, clearly preparing to turn tail and leave.]
An' I look expensive?
[ It comes out a little defensive. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. Hadn't considered that someone who could offer it like it was nothing might still get cut with a 'no'.
He feels the old twist of bitterness that she'd made him have to say it. He sets his jaw a little harder to fight his pitching stomach. ]
You're welcome. [ A statement, final, like it's something she can't argue with. ] I'd do it again, too. Like it or not.
[ It comes out a little defensive. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. Hadn't considered that someone who could offer it like it was nothing might still get cut with a 'no'.
He feels the old twist of bitterness that she'd made him have to say it. He sets his jaw a little harder to fight his pitching stomach. ]
You're welcome. [ A statement, final, like it's something she can't argue with. ] I'd do it again, too. Like it or not.
You look like a normal guy, Daryl.
[And maybe that's the problem. She feels too comfortable with that normalcy, and it's causing her to expect more of Daryl than he ever signed up to give. Is she taking advantage of him? It feels likely. She takes advantage of everything in this place. Ruins everything good.]
[Mavis' image flashes through Joan's mind. Self pity. She needs to get over herself. She needs to leave.]
Yeah. I get that. Stay safe, Daryl. And if you find an ethanol car- [She makes the old-fashioned sign for 'phone' with her hand, thumb and pinky extended-] Call me.
[And maybe that's the problem. She feels too comfortable with that normalcy, and it's causing her to expect more of Daryl than he ever signed up to give. Is she taking advantage of him? It feels likely. She takes advantage of everything in this place. Ruins everything good.]
[Mavis' image flashes through Joan's mind. Self pity. She needs to get over herself. She needs to leave.]
Yeah. I get that. Stay safe, Daryl. And if you find an ethanol car- [She makes the old-fashioned sign for 'phone' with her hand, thumb and pinky extended-] Call me.
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