[He considers the question as he idly strokes the horse's
flank.]
Think you might not recognize me. You find a way to be, even if they
change all around you and you no longer know quite why you still stay. I
think I'd find it too easy by far to become that person again.
Oh, yeah. I was by their side killin' and robbin' all these years, I'd understand a little resentment.
I don't know, though. Charles, I could see bein' here as a warden. Big Indian fella, calm as anything, smart as hell. There's a man you can really rely on.
His daddy was a black man, and his ma was Indian. As far as I know, they lived with his mother's family until the government got in their way. She got taken by the military, he became a drunk, so Charles headed out alone. Think he was about the same age I was when he left home.
[Arthur pats his horse again, then turns to look at Tess once more.]
Hardens you, bein' out in the open at that age. We was all too glad to have him with us, knowing what he does about nature, about animals. And it's good to ride with people after many years alone.
Yeah. I’ve seen that a lot. Military started scooping up orphaned kids a while back, raising them as soldiers so they don’t fall into gangs or something, like any of us want to recruit kids.
[It’s hard enough to find reliable adults.]
Pretty miserable, being dragged into gang shit so young, but sometimes it seems like the best choice.
If any of my guys showed up as inmates, I wouldn't want them to see me differently than they know now. And... I think I'd do something stupid if any of them came here as wardens.
Why? It's Earth. Half the people in this place are from some version of it. Could pick one where people aren't fighting to death over scraps from a time half of 'em never even knew.
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I've never actually known you as an outlaw, no matter what you've said you've done. So sure –– kind of unusual to see you as anything but a warden.
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Ain't that peculiar? You go from one life to another, and suddenly you're no longer who you thought you was.
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[She's not certain she likes the idea, even if she's done it before and will do it again.]
Would your gang back home recognize you, if they showed up here?
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Hmm.
[He considers the question as he idly strokes the horse's flank.]
Think you might not recognize me. You find a way to be, even if they change all around you and you no longer know quite why you still stay. I think I'd find it too easy by far to become that person again.
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Not to jinx you from seeing your people again, but I hope that doesn't happen. Or, if they do show up... that they follow your orders for once.
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Hell. I don't know. I don't know that I'd want 'em to.
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cw: era-appropriate but still racist term
I don't know, though. Charles, I could see bein' here as a warden. Big Indian fella, calm as anything, smart as hell. There's a man you can really rely on.
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What’s a guy like that doing in a gang?
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[Arthur pats his horse again, then turns to look at Tess once more.]
Hardens you, bein' out in the open at that age. We was all too glad to have him with us, knowing what he does about nature, about animals. And it's good to ride with people after many years alone.
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[It’s hard enough to find reliable adults.]
Pretty miserable, being dragged into gang shit so young, but sometimes it seems like the best choice.
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Smart man. I think you'd like him.
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[Arthur could always use more friends.]
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Anyone you'd wanna see here?
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No one for good reasons.
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[Train-induced family delusions aside.]
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[It's easier to have cargo than a kid, anyway.]
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