[If there were a phone to speak into, Joan would be glaring at the reciever. That accent-- deep South, definitely. It lacks the twang of Kentucky, and the skullfuck dullness of Oklahoma. She can't place it beyond that and it's kind of... annoying. Whatever, get over it, Joanie.]
[It does bring out a ghost of Joan's own real accent, the slightest sliver of a Texan drawl.]
We tried to kill each other, first time we met up. I know what he's like. I ain't here to make excuses for him, or anybody. What he did to you was wrong, and I hope you're getting what you're owed outta it.
[What else can she say but that?]
The boy-- man. The guy who runs the library, Wesley? We think he might've been kidnapped, but searching in town is... shit's bad in town.
[ She sounds just enough like home that Daryl is willing to trust this, give her the benefit of the doubt. Turns out it's a lot harder to tell if people are lying if they ain't in front of you. ]
Why d'you care? Just 'cause you're roommates don't make him your responsibility.
[ Oh, the library guy. Daryl's seen him around enough for the hook of responsibility to tug at him. Guy never gives him shit when he returns books late. Or stained. ]
Think, huh? Shit's bad but it don't mean he ain't here. If he's gone silent what makes you think he's still alive? [ He hates the network but he has to admit it's convenient. ] Or ain't we expectin' to find him that way?
[ Alive, that is, because yeah. It's 'we're' already. He likes the library but mostly he just likes having a job to do. Something that makes him feel useful. ]
I let a murderer sleep in my room. I gave him a safe place to stay. If that don't mean nothing to you-- I don't expect it to. But it means something to me.
[The truth of the matter is, if she doesn't hold herself to some kind of standard, what will she become? Whatever that creature is, she never wants to meet it.]
I'm thinking if we don't look, we ain't finding shit. People come back here. We find him dead, we still help him.
[ Yeah no murderers here, he thinks. It should be easy not to lie to her if he just talks around himself. He's good that at. ]
Don't think he meant to. If that means somethin' to you.
[ It's not his business to tell her anything more than that, about how Gabe had lingered with him, sat beside him. Hadn't finished him off. Even dying of shock, Daryl could still smell the regret. ]
[ He'd practically had to twist the guy's arm to get anything out of him when they'd woken up together in the dark. Good to know it doesn't always take that much to get a confession out of him. ]
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[It does bring out a ghost of Joan's own real accent, the slightest sliver of a Texan drawl.]
We tried to kill each other, first time we met up. I know what he's like. I ain't here to make excuses for him, or anybody. What he did to you was wrong, and I hope you're getting what you're owed outta it.
[What else can she say but that?]
The boy-- man. The guy who runs the library, Wesley? We think he might've been kidnapped, but searching in town is... shit's bad in town.
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Why d'you care? Just 'cause you're roommates don't make him your responsibility.
[ Oh, the library guy. Daryl's seen him around enough for the hook of responsibility to tug at him. Guy never gives him shit when he returns books late. Or stained. ]
Think, huh? Shit's bad but it don't mean he ain't here. If he's gone silent what makes you think he's still alive? [ He hates the network but he has to admit it's convenient. ] Or ain't we expectin' to find him that way?
[ Alive, that is, because yeah. It's 'we're' already. He likes the library but mostly he just likes having a job to do. Something that makes him feel useful. ]
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[The truth of the matter is, if she doesn't hold herself to some kind of standard, what will she become? Whatever that creature is, she never wants to meet it.]
I'm thinking if we don't look, we ain't finding shit. People come back here. We find him dead, we still help him.
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Don't think he meant to. If that means somethin' to you.
[ It's not his business to tell her anything more than that, about how Gabe had lingered with him, sat beside him. Hadn't finished him off. Even dying of shock, Daryl could still smell the regret. ]
Fair enough. You got a lead? Somewhere to start?
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[A crime is a crime. All you can do is repent.]
Re-... Figure we can start at the city gates. He was at the library when he got, y'know... got.
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[ He'd practically had to twist the guy's arm to get anything out of him when they'd woken up together in the dark. Good to know it doesn't always take that much to get a confession out of him. ]
You got anythin' that smells like him?
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[Wait.]
...Are you a dog person too?
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[ To be honest, she'll probably still be more a hindrance than a help. But the practice will be good. But he won't pitch it that way. ]
I'm hearin' you won't have a problem with that.
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[She was thinking of Khoriya, who, she reminds herself, is a wolf. Which, uh, matters. Apparently.]
Anyway, yeah, I can get some of Wesley's stuff. He was a librarian, he probably made out with the Encyclopedia Britannica or something.
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[ Oh. He shakes his head like he can knock all the thoughts that follow out of it. ]
Nevermind. Forget it. Pick whatever's beside his bed or grab a shirt you know is his.