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reenvisiongame · 11 months

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A bit about the Inn + Other news

Been in the grind zone once again for some weeks, and good news: We’re finally moving on from Liza purgatory! In exchange, we’re now in the Inn Pit.

It’s been another few weeks since my last post on just about any of my socials, but on my Twitter, I showed a small little clip of Liza’s boss fight. It’s not much of a looker (yet), but man oh man was it working! It’s still not very flashy (I’m not worrying about overly flashy visuals and effects until towards the end of development), BUUUUT I can say that since that last post, it’s done!

All of Liza’s possible moves have been implemented and I’ve even added a few little neat things. For example, on certain frames of some of Liza’s attacks, you can hit her and her attack will instantly be interrupted, meaning you can basically cancel the attack completely. Although the “reenvision” mechanic doesn’t work on bosses, you can still use it to instantly end Liza’s current attack and reset her position in the arena (so if she’s cornering you, you can reenvision her and both you and Liza will be reset to the positions you started the boss fight in!)

There’s more things like that I’d love to add to not just Liza, but future bosses as well. This game does not have a level system and depends entirely on player skill. While this is turning out to be quite the challenge in figuring out how to give the player the feeeeeeling of gameplay progression, it also opens the doors for quite a number of cool little tricks like this. Letting the player be in complete control of battles like this as long as they know exactly about their opponents... There’s so much potential with this, it’s a little crazy!

ENOUGH about Liza though, she’s been the center of attention for long enough. Let’s talk art. Let’s talk about Clemence Inn!

SO. THE INN! I mentioned it vaguely at the end of my last post (and “promised” to post more about it the week after... Aha) but Clemence Inn is the name of the main location of the game. It’s a rundown inn in the middle of a small, sleepy town named Clemence. It has a total of 4 staff members: the mayor, a janitor, the town’s bounty hunter, and the Nurse. I’ve shown off the Nurse frequently in the past, so the other 3 will be new characters I’ll show off in time! The Inn is also where you, the player, will live. As the inn comes together and I fill out more rooms (the pictures above and below are only of the inn’s lobby area), maybe I’ll give a bit more of a proper room tour! As well as give a proper introduction the wonderful Inn staff. Who knows? 😳

With the foundation of the game done and Liza + the store system as a whole also being done, my focus will be shifting to some other very important, yet not as “exciting” things to show off. Basically, I’ll be focusing on game locations, art direction (for said locations), more monsters, more enemies, writing and finishing the script, more smaller things I’ve been putting on the backburner ingame (such as some smaller features and tweaks I’ve been meaning to get to). All of this is very important to the game and uh... Well, it’s literally the rest of the game. However, it’s not as “exciting” to show off as it slowly comes along. I’ll continue to show off these WIPs nevertheless (I love blathering about this game, and I’m sure there’s some who love hearing about games in active development), but if things start to feel a weeee bit like a slog, then it’s because it is! Everything will come together with time though. We’re only in year 2 of development, and I suspect this game will take 4-5 years at least.

To end off this long update post, I’ve also been working on newer, more “finalized” tilesets for the game. That’s right, plot twist: The tilesets currently ingame were always just temporary. I had changed the screen size of the game (384x216 to 320x180) a year ago and surprise surprise, big pixel art assets do not scale down very well! I needed new tilesets, but wanted to take is as an opportunity to practice :P

The new tilesets aren’t that different, but I made sure to make the colors easier on the eyes. Here’s the new (top) vs old (bottom) "main” forest tiles!

#reenvision game #gamedev #indiegame #screenshot saturday #devlog #long post

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persimnon · 6 years

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Greg and Mitch from asapscience posted a video called “the end of Greg and Mitch” on their second channel and I had a quadruple annuerism but turns out they’re just not posting science stuff there anymore THEY’RE NOT BREAKING UP

#THEY STARTED IT OUT MIMICKING THE LIZA AND DAVID BREAKUP VIDEO I WAS SCREAMING #anyways terrifying moment of the day!!!!#asapscience #greg and mitch #blither blather bother

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years

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Never say never - Chapter 10

Still the story of my heart :D

RPF - Richard Armitage - Romcom

Mature (but not yet)

°10° ~Victoria~

Victoria balanced the pile of books in one hand, trying to turn the key with the other one and pushing her whole weight against the door. The bag almost slipped, but she managed to gain entry to her house without spilling books all over the pavement.

Leaving the books by the front door, she made her way to the kitchen to brew a cup of tea and ponder her outing. She had not expected seeing Armitage. God, even in her own mind, she would not call him by his first name readily.

That man had a pair of eyes on him though, she thought, a dreamy note sneaking into her reverie, and she had to shake her head to dispel any stupid notions pertaining to that man’s looks.

She had botched plenty of interactions with people before, but she had never consistently kicked someone quite like that.

She had no idea when the furniture would arrive, but the electronics would be delivered, she checked her watch, within the next two hours. Her fingers slid along the small, rectangular box she had purchased on impulse at the library.

North & South, it read, and Victoria sighed while caressing the box absent-mindedly. She didn’t remember if she had ordered the movie as well, but she would find someone to gift it to if that was the case.

Her tea had steeped too long and had grown bitter, almost as bitter as her heart, she thought with a disgusted snort.

She might as well get it over with, walk to Angie’s and get a box full of small cakes. And then…

It wasn’t until she opened the door that she realised that she was still holding and fondling that stupid DVD-case. “Ah, we were not sure if you’d come in today. What have you got there?” Jenna came out from behind the counter, ready to walk Vic to her usual spot, but she stopped when Vic made no move to follow her.

“I get a delivery of a new TV in a few, I’m just here to pick up some cakes and maybe a cup of tea, I’ve ruined mine.” Vic mumbled, pressing her precious DVD against her chest as if it was a new-born babe.

“Okay, sure. What is it then?” Jenna returned to her spot and leaned into the display cabinet, to take out a selection of Vic’s favourite afternoon-cakes. “I’ll be with you in a minute.” She chirped when the bell above the door rang merrily.

“I have time. Hello Victoria.” Jenna’s head snapped up and banged against the upper edge of the cabinet with an audible “clonk” while Victoria whirled around with a gasp.

“I’m sorry, oh my god, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The man apologised quickly, rushing towards the counter in case Jenna was about to faint. “Are you alright, Miss?” He asked, visibly worried about her.

“Hiddleston.” Victoria mumbled, dazed, feeling like a child in a zoo who was naming animals she saw, but the feeling of pride upon correctly identifying the beasts wouldn’t settle in.

“Yes, hello Miss Victoria. Fancy meeting you here. I just came for some of those delicious cakes of yesterday evening.” He grinned ruefully while Jenna shook her head slowly, her fingers brushing along a noticeable bump under her dark hair.

“Me too. I get a new TV today.” Victoria blathered stupidly, desperately trying to conceal her DVD by crossing her arms over it, which, of course, attracted even more attention.

“North…Ah, North & South. That’s what you want to start with?” Hiddleston smiled, nodding, “it’s a good one.”

“Really? Oh, no, this will not do. Do you have a thermos?” Jenna dropped the box she was unfolding and got another one from under the counter. “A thermos?” Victoria felt like she was the one who had hit her head.

“Never mind, I’ll lend you one of ours. Hmmm, let me see…” Jenna tapped her lip with her finger pensively before opening the door to the stairs leading to Angie’s office and calling up: “Boss? Vic is here and we need your help.”

Within a few seconds, Angie appeared, a pencil shoved in her hair and a pair of reading glasses on her nose.

“What is it? Hey Vic, hey Tom. What are you doing here?” She blinked a few times, trying to take in the situation before her eyes. Victoria cradled a DVD-case and Tom looked longingly at the display cabinet; he had not been served then.

“Victoria has chosen to start her emotional education. She’s about to watch North & South. What do I give her?” Jenna made a vague gesture to the cabinet. “Ah, yes, momentous.” Angie nodded with a little smile, conferred with Jenna in hushed tones and then, both of them fell into swift and efficient movements to put together the perfect care-package.

“I’ve heard that we are to come to your place tonight?” Angie then asked as she rang up Victoria’s order.

“Ah really? Good, you can help me unpack and set up a few things then.” Victoria grinned. She remembered that Liza had said “See you tonight” earlier, but she hadn’t given it much thought until now.

She would have cooked if she had known, but her larder was almost empty, and she had to stay home to accept all the ludicrous orders she had placed. “It will be take-out then.” She shrugged. She had never resented the company of her friends. “We do not want to intrude.” Angie said gently, seeing that Victoria had not been made aware of the plans.

“Oh, never mind. You are always welcome. As long as Liza doesn’t show up with Armitage in tow.”

Victoria had no idea why she had said that, but she had definitely betrayed more than she had wanted to let anyone know. “Why? I mean, why would she?” Hiddleston asked. Damn, she had almost forgotten he was there after the whole tea commotion. “I went to her office, and guess who I ran into…literally ran into…?”

She might as well tell them and she had shared a brief moment of complicity with Hiddleston the previous night; he was kind and funny, and she didn’t feel that threatened by him here, on her home-turf.

“Well…who is Richard Crispin Armitage?” Hiddleston provided his guess with a twinkle in his eyes, Jeopardy-style.

“I guess so…Is that his full name? Ouch…” Victoria laughed. “Victoria Daphne Roth, I’d be quiet.” Angie grinned.

“Touché.” Victoria conceded, continuing her story: “So, I went and ordered all kinds of stuff, thinking of nothing, and then Liza calls me, with that man in her office sitting across from her, and grills me about me not liking him.”

She was looking expectantly at the others, hoping that they’d laugh and agree that this was a ludicrous concept.

“Yeah, you didn’t seem much of a fan yesterday, but that might change now…” Jenna said after a moment, nodding at the object still clasped in Victoria’s sweaty hands. “I’ll make you a nice black tea with a dash of almond milk.”

Victoria felt annoyed, apparently, she had been even ruder to the poor man than she had thought. Damn!

“I think I’m having what she’s having.” Hiddleston proclaimed after seeing what delicacies Angie had selected for Victoria, who was presently trying to juggle the thermos, the cakebox, and her DVD.

When her phone went off on top of that, she handed the cakebox back to Jenna who looked at him apologetically.

“Yeah? What do you mean? I’m on my way, NO, I cannot take the furniture up myself. 5 minutes, I’m almost there.” Victoria exclaimed, squeezing her eyes shut in frustration. “I have to leave; the furniture is there and I cannot carry it up myself.” She announced to the others, caught again in a desperate struggle to transport everything.

“Let me help you.” Hiddleston took a hold of the cakebox. “For one of the pistachio-cakes and two of the almond cookies.” He added when her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Alright. Come on then.” Victoria agreed, thankful for his long legs and the two healthy hands at her disposal now.

She opened the door to the movers and the guest, telling all of them to just walk upstairs. She then, most inelegantly, fell over the stack of books she had left lying around by the front door, only regaining her balance after grabbing the hallstand which, naturally, toppled over.

“May the devil take you!” She glowered at it, grabbing it violently and putting it upright again while a group of men were trying to wrestle the bookshelf up the narrow stairs. Just as she wanted to join them, the doorbell rang again, and the electronics-shop delivery arrived.

“Miss Victoria, do you have a mop and a vacuum?” Hiddleston appeared and she gesticulated in the general direction of the little cupboard under the stairs. What was he on about now?

After signing the papers and directing this batch of heavily laden men upstairs as well, Victoria finally followed, having stowed away her snacks and her tea in the kitchen for the meanwhile.

Her breath hitched. Thomas Hiddleston was wiping the floor, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his brow glistening with sweat while a group of bulky movers were wrestling the bookshelf against one wall. “Erm, thank you.” She murmured, feeling the vibrant life filling this little unused room.

Roughly half an hour later, Victoria made her way up the same stairs again, holding a tray with dainty teacups and a platter filled with the selection of delicacies. She owed the man a cup of tea and the promised cakes for his collaboration.

As she entered, she saw him kneel behind a small cabinet. “I took the liberty of accepting this suggestion of the owner of the furniture shop on your behalf.” His words came out muffled by the TV he was apparently setting up for her.

“Thank you, yes, it’s lovely.” She murmured, setting the tray down on the treadmill. She would need a coffee table as well and the fainting couch was definitely not big enough to accommodate more than 2 people.

Victoria almost had an immediate need of her fainting couch when she realised that she was imagining, envisioning, accepting that there would be more than 2 people at a time in this room at some point.

“Thank you very much for your help. It was very kind and considerate of you.” She then addressed herself to the man crawling out from behind her TV and fumbling batteries into her remotes with long, gracile fingers.

“You’re very welcome. Ah, I see you’ve brought a cup for me too. Am I allowed to stay for a bit then and eat my cakes while you watch your movie? I’ll get a chair from the living room, don’t worry.” He waited for her to acquiesce, making it very clear that he’d accept it if she just wanted him gone.

“Yes, sure.” Victoria smiled. He was indeed very pleasant and the more time she spent with him, the less scared she was in his presence. He was nothing like that other fellow who made her seize up inside.

“Oh, everyone’s favourite sourpuss.” Victoria mumbled around her cake as Thornton appeared on screen. She had followed the movie quietly this far but hadn’t been able to suppress that little comment.

“Ah, come on.” Hiddleston exclaimed, defending his fellow actor without berating her directly, which made her feel more repentant than if he had scolded her. “It was a joke. He looks particularly unsmiling here though.” She grinned.

“He does, he’s not like that in real life though.” – “In my experience, he is?” Victoria cocked her head.

~Richard~

As he was there, he and Elizabeth went through a bit of work-related stuff as well and the time crawled along.

Her phone chimed a few times, but she didn’t let it distract her until a cascade of notifications made her look up in annoyance. “Excuse me.” She murmured and lifted her phone from the desk to see what the commotion was about.

“Ah…she meant it.” She just commented and put her phone back, ready to return to business.

“Who meant what?” Richard asked, tired and remembering the glasses he was once again not wearing. He was desperate for any kind of distraction from the closed-in feeling in his chest that wouldn’t shift.

“What? Oh, Vic. She told me she had bought a fainting couch and planned on watching a few movies. Apparently, she has just shown up at the tearoom with a copy of North & South. Her and Hiddleston have gone to her place to set up her new furniture. Must be what she has planned with the drawing room upstairs. Hmm.” Liza sounded absent-minded.

“She…what? Can you please explain the correlation between a fainting couch and the movie? And what is Hiddleston doing there? What is going on?” So much for the distraction, Richard thought when the vice around his ribs was tightened.

“I do not know, Richard. I’ll see her tonight and I’ll ask her.” Liza’s lips were quirking, and he was not sure what grimace she was trying to hide from him, but he suspected that he didn’t even really want to know.

“Maybe she’s a glutton for punishment? I have done a few horror movies; she can add those to the list.” He said sombrely. Liza’s hearty laughter in reply to his self-deprecation took him by surprise and, after a moment, he joined in.

She suggested he gift her those, signed, as a token of humour and friendship, but he was afraid that she’d take it the wrong way or be offended. There was nothing he could do right when it came to Victoria, and he was growing tired of being the laughingstock in this whole affair.

Victoria was just a bitter, cold-hearted, callous Xanthippe who was probably now sitting in her drawing room cachinnating about him with that fresh-faced fool of Hiddleston…no, that wasn’t right…how could she be both a bitter virago and a mocking seductress, at the same time?

It all came down to her poor opinion of him, she was cold and abrasive to him, but she would certainly be much more welcoming to someone she didn’t loathe with such fervour, wouldn’t she?

He decided then and there not to ask questions about her anymore and to keep as far away from that woman as he possibly could. In less than 24 hours, she had brought doubt and misery galore into his life and he was too old to just bear this silently. Unlike what he had said about her, he was NOT a glutton for punishment, especially if he hadn’t deserved it.

There were a thousand things on the tip of his tongue though. He wanted to know if Hiddleston was still there and what she had thought of the movie, what that story of the fainting couch meant and what other movies she intended to watch…but he would ask none of these things, he would no longer be strung along in the maelstrom of her insanity.

“I wonder how she’ll like the movie.” Elizabeth mused aloud, her eyes gleaming behind lowered lids. He knew that she was fishing, and he would resist stoically; he would not fall into the trap of confessing that he had thought about the same thing only seconds ago.

He looked dour in that movie, he knew that he did, and she would probably scoff at the screen and feel vindicated in her vision of him as a sour, hostile, disagreeable man. Well, there was nothing to be done about that.

“I think she’s seen the Crucible.” Elizabeth went on goading him and, this time, he couldn’t prevent the exasperation flashing fast and hot across his face. No wonder she thought so little of him as a person if all she ever watched were representations of him stalking around moodily before screaming his head off.

“Well, I’ll see about it tonight. Let’s get back to business.” Elizabeth finally said with a shrug, shuffling her papers self-importantly, whereas her eyes tracked every minute shift in his face all the while.

He merely grunted his acquiescence, listening to her talk about work with a dispassionate voice while trying not to dwell on his irrational irritation whenever the picture of Victoria laughing heartily bubbled up in his mind.

#rpf #fanfiction #richard armitage #longfic #romcom #writing #fanfic #fluff and angst

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coffeeandtin · 7 years

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Streets We Call the Zoo

In response to the “I wish you would write a fic where...” post, anon requested a fic where The Seven visit the city. This one went through a lot of incarnations. Some were super angsty, and some were bordering on crack. The character groupings changed about fifty times, and there were a few times I started this and thought: “Nope, I hate it,” then deleted everything. What we ended up with, though, is something that kind of starts and stops in medias res. Not so much a story, as it is a few scenes interwoven with one another: Faraday is politically correct in his own way, Vasquez gets a job offer; and Jack, Billy and Goodnight meet with an old acquaintance of Goody’s. Title is from the song by The Scorpions. (Oh,and if you ever want to feel really angry, look up “human zoos.”)

“Hey, Red.”

Red Harvest turned at the mention of his name, or at least the English incarnation thereof. It was Faraday. Red raised an eyebrow by way of a greeting, and Faraday joined him at his side.

“Enjoying your time in the city?” Faraday asked, gesturing to their surroundings with a liquor bottle that he seemed to have conjured from nothing. The amber liquid within sloshed.

Red looked around at the buildings that crowded his lines of sight. No doubt their construction required ingenuity, but Red found no inspiration in the high, immovable structures.

“Didn’t you have a poker game?” Red asked, giving no real reply.

Faraday clucked his tongue before he struck a match and lit a cigarette, declining to give an answer of his own.

“You look…crestfallen,” Red said.

“You,” Faraday said, exhaling smoke that he attempted not to choke on because of Red’s observation, “have been spending too much time around Goodnight.”

There was a flicker of a smile on Red Harvest’s face, and Faraday realized something that he supposed already knew: Red Harvest, stoic warrior, smiled more than most people would give him credit for.

“Smartass.”

Vasquez recognized the practicality of shaving, but willingly allowing a blade to be put to his throat was not something he had thought to prepare himself for upon entering the city. Just a precaution, Sam had said; though Vasquez was puzzled as to why he couldn’t just shave himself. As the barber used the razor to remove the lather, along with Vasquez’s beard, the outlaw glanced at Sam, who was reclined in the chair next to his, perfectly at ease and smiling at Vasquez’s apparent misgivings.

“Vittorio hasn’t done anyone in yet,” Sam assured him.

“Good to know,” Vasquez said, taking pains not to move his mouth more than necessary.

There was a quiet smile on the old, Italian man’s face. He worked quickly and efficiently, humming a little tune all the while. No sooner had Vasquez relaxed than the barber completed his task and handed Vasquez a mirror. The reflective surface was impressively, brightly clean; its handle filigreed. Vasquez felt the new smoothness of his face, and smiled at his reflection despite himself.

He stood and handed the mirror back.

“You look younger,” Vittorio commented.

More innocent? Less like a wanted man? Vasquez wondered.

Vittorio looked from Vasquez to Sam. The clandestine glance that the barber and warrant officer shared did not go unnoticed by Vasquez. Sam nodded, answering an unspoken question.

“I have it on good authority,” Vittorio said, all jocularity returning to him, “that our mutual acquaintance left town just this morning.”

“Grazi,” Sam said, as he shook Vittorio’s hand and gave him a sum that far exceeded the cost of two shaves.

“Naw, that boy never did have the sense God gave paste,” Goodnight said as he slapped his knee and laughed at the story their host had just told them.

Billy found himself smiling as he placed his cup back on its saucer. He, Goodnight and Jack sat in the parlor, sharing in a pot of tea with Madame Ophelia; or, as she preferred to be called by friends: Gloria.

“No, no he didn’t,” Gloria agreed, straightening her posture and folding her hands on the dark skirt of her dress. She smiled a comely smile.

Her voice had more than a touch of the South, and she was theatrical. Billy had decided that he liked Gloria the instant he’d met her.

“Any friend of Goodnight’s is certainly a friend of mine,” the illusionist had said upon their first meeting.

She turned her attention to Jack.

“Mr. Horne, I must beg your forgiveness,” Gloria said when she noticed Jack’s cup was sitting empty. “I’ve been a lacking hostess. Can I offer you more tea?”

Jack looked from Gloria, to his tea cup, then back to Gloria as though he were surprised he was being addressed.

“That’d be nice, ma’am,” he said. “And there’s nothing to forgive.”

Gloria stood and poured more tea for Jack, who gave her his profuse thanks. She replenished everyone’s dessert plates and then stood behind Jack, placing a hand on his shoulder and telling him that if their time in the city allowed it, he would have to see one of her shows.

“I would insist on providing the tickets, of course,” she said with a fond squeeze of Jack’s shoulder.

Billy and Goodnight shared a furtive smile.

Faraday had been politely asked to leave the game of poker he’d entered. Politely, he scoffed as he lit another cigarette. No guns, not even an insult; just the statement that cheating would not be tolerated, and the well-mannered suggestion that perhaps he ought to remove himself from the game. There were plenty of impolite things Faraday had looked forward to doing upon arriving in the city; but here he was, walking along aimlessly with Red Harvest. Faraday was becoming certain that Red would pace the entire city for the duration of The Seven’s stay.

Red paused at an art vendor and regarded a painting of a ship on the ocean. Nice boat, but it’s a little drab for my tastes, Faraday thought as he wondered what Red’s assessment of the painting was. He was about to ask when he caught sight of a man across the street who was looking intently at Red. No fear. Curiosity, maybe. Above all, Faraday recognized the look of someone looking to exploit another. The man apparently took Faraday’s notice as an invitation to join them.

“Hello! I’m Paulson. James Paulson,” the man said, all good cheer and smiles. “Does your man speak English?”

Hackles raised, Faraday narrowed his gaze at the man, and made no reply.

“I wonder,” the man said, “If you could relay to your…companion that I may have a job for him.”

Mousy hair, a well-tailored, cream colored suit; and an accent that, as far as Faraday could tell, was purely an affectation. Joshua looked at the newcomer, and could not remember ever disliking someone so immediately. He took an exaggerated drag on his cigarette and wondered if he pretended not to hear the man, if he would go away. No such luck. The man continued to look at Faraday expectantly, then began to repeat himself.

He blathered about anthropological exhibits and social trends. Faraday exhaled and blew smoke in the direction of the man who was either too stupid, or too persistent to care. Hell, maybe it was both.

“He could be a performer; an actor, as it were,” Paulson continued as he blinked the smoke from his eyes, and continued smiling.

Faraday found his hands wandering toward where Ethel and Maria would usually have been situated, but he reminded himself that his ladies would have to wait to be picked up on his way out of town. Vexed, Faraday was certain that was the right word. He cast a glance over at Red Harvest, who looked back at him, brows upraised, as though he were awaiting a translation Joshua damn well knew he didn’t need.

“He ain’t interested,” Faraday said.

“An interesting idea,” Vasquez said as he followed Sam into a restaurant called Liza’s. “But there’s still a bounty on my head.”

“Matters less than you might think,” Sam said, setting his hat on a corner table by the bar, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Vasquez followed suit as he observed his surroundings. The restaurant was small, but well-lit and meticulously cared for. There were few patrons, but in the middle of the day, he supposed that was to be expected.

“No particular hurry,” Sam said. “Take time and think about it.”

Vasquez ran a thumb over his smooth jawline and nodded, feeling more sullen than he probably ought to have.

“You would be a good boss,” Vasquez considered aloud, finding that he had to force joviality into his voice.

“Naw,” Sam said, shaking his head as though Vasquez had gravely misunderstood him. “Partner.”

777

“How did you meet?” Jack asked, looking from Gloria, to Goodnight, then back again when there was a lull in conversation.

Goodnight and Gloria were nearly perfect reflections of one another when they set down their cups and smiled while looking at their laps. Perhaps, Billy thought, the telling of the story of a gala and horribly misjudged drink placement was inevitable in new company. Just as well, he could stand to hear it again.

“Well,” Goodnight began, looking to Gloria.

With a nod, Gloria encouraged him to continue.

“We actually grew up in the same town,” Goodnight said. “She was this great beauty-”

“Was, Mr. Robicheaux?” Gloria asked, feigning offense.

Goodnight paused with his teacup half way to his mouth when he realized his faux pas. Billy smiled at this, and Gloria (lovely, lovely Gloria whose golden hair was only beginning to fade to white at her temples) allowed Goodnight to flounder for only a moment before continuing the conversational tack.

“We did grow up in the same town. And believe it or not, Goodnight was said to be quite the charmer.”

There was laughter, but after it subsided the two southerners became more somber. Jack and Billy followed suit.

“My family moved.”

“We didn’t see each other again until the second year of the war.”

Gloria gazed down at the tabletop.

“You were a Confederate sharpshooter,” Gloria said.

“And you were a Billy Yank spy,” Goodnight finished.

“I was, indeed.”

This was not the story of the gala that Billy remembered.

There was no tone of betrayal in Goodnight’s voice, and there was no inflection of pride in Gloria’s. The former soldier and the former spy sat side by side, reflecting on their past selves. The silence might have become uncomfortable if Gloria hadn’t broken it.

“Never got anything out of you, though,” she said.

“And I never told anyone your secret.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Always meant to ask you why,” Goodnight said. “Don’t suppose there’s any harm in asking now.”

Gloria finished her tea, and pondered her answer a moment before replying.

“No, no harm,” she said before lapsing into silence long enough that Billy began to wonder if she was going to answer.

“I wish I could say it was because of some sense of altruism on my part,” she began again. “But that wouldn’t be entirely true. No, there was some money to be had; but most of all I liked the danger that came along with it. Even just the thought of danger, really. Didn’t matter much to me if it was for Johnny Reb or Billy Yank.”

The company of four sat in silence, and the parlor became a place of the past as they each retreated into their own private histories. Gloria tapped her fingers on her chin, something her mother had always declared unbecoming. Jack nibbled the remainder of a madeleine. Goodnight stared at the opposite wall, and Billy’s fingertips worried at the hem of the tablecloth.

“What time is your show tonight?” Jack asked.

“He’s not some performing animal,” Faraday said to Paulson.

Faraday’s words were becoming heated, Red Harvest realized. The man could be petty, and rude, and overeager to pick fights, but it was rare that Red heard genuine anger color Faraday’s words.

Paulson ran a hand over his goatee, and began to say something else, but Faraday cut him off.

“I’ve seen exhibits like yours. I wasn’t impressed.”

“I just-”

Faraday rounded on the man.

“I don’t think you get it.” There was venom in Faraday’s voice. “I said-”

Red Harvest chose that moment to step in, lest there was actual trouble.

“He’s right,” Red said. “I’m not interested.”

Paulson’s eyes went wide, and his mouth fell open a fraction of an inch.

“C’mon, Josh,” Red said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Let’s go.

The contact was uncharacteristic of Red, and it seemed to bring Faraday back to himself. It wasn’t until Red and Faraday left, with their backs to Paulson, and turned a corner onto another street, that the two shared a smile.

There was something underneath the layers of civility. A scent, a sound. Or perhaps it was the absence of something. Red Harvest couldn’t put a finger on it. That elusive something made him long that much more for the plains. He followed Faraday onto the porch of a nameless bar, and stood next to him whenever Faraday propped himself up against the wall and lit a cigarette. The Irishman was still stewing about something. Red didn’t ask. He figured Faraday would tell him if he wanted to.

“This trip’s been a bust,” Faraday said, then pulled a face, indicating that that wasn’t exactly what he meant to say. “I mean…Hell, Red. I’ve seen that sort of thing before…like what that jackass was talkin’ about.”

Faraday shook his head before continuing.

“Never really thought anything of it back then, I guess.”

Red nodded his understanding. Since Rose Creek, they’d all changed in some way, or another; Faraday wasn’t an exception.

Liquor was doing nothing to quell the apprehension Vasquez was trying to hide. Sam had always been fair to him. Nothing would change between himself and the bounty hunter if he accepted the partnership. Probably wouldn’t change if I didn’t, either. The thought did bring him some consolation.

“Like I said,” Sam told him. “There’s no hurry. I have a meeting here with the proprietor. You should get something to eat; go see the city.”

Always working, huh? Vasquez thought as he moved his heads slowly from side to side.

He began to say something. He wasn’t sure what –certainly not a definitive answer, but he found that Sam’s attention was drawn by movement behind the bar. Vasquez followed Sam’s gaze to the woman who stood there, talking to the bartender.

Her long, dark curls were tied loosely behind her. Vasquez couldn’t guess her age, (a little younger than Sam, maybe?) but he could see no flaw in her dark skin; and though there was a stern set to her jaw, her mouth (in Vasquez’s less than humble opinion) was made for smiling. He wondered if that was Liza.

“Time for that meeting,” Sam said as he stood and pushed in his chair, excusing himself.

“With Liza?” Vasquez asked, jesting and cracking a grin.

“With Liza,” Sam said with a nod.

Sam’s expression was curt, but humor of some sort played reservedly behind Sam’s eyes before he turned and walked over to the bar.

When the woman –Liza –caught sight of Sam, she confirmed Vasquez’s theory. Her smile was bright and warm. And Sam Chisolm was its sole recipient. Sam took her hand and brushed a thumb over her knuckles. The two strolled out of sight, and Vasquez watched them go, wondering how long he should wait before picking his jaw up from the floor.

#fanfiction #mag7 #red harvest #joshua faraday #vasquez #sam chisolm #goodnight robicheaux #billy rocks #jack horne #ocs #maybe a little historically inaccurate but probably not completely #throwing some ocs against the wall to see if they stick #maybe i shouldn't treat my ocs like pasta #unbeta'd

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