Once Allison figures out Arthur is very literally her neighbor, it's only a matter of time before she catches him in the hallway to strike up a conversation---after the whole lying-bug thing has run its course, after all. Can't risk any crickets.
She stops him as they are both about to enter their respective cabins. Convenient? Yes, but only because Allison has, of course, oh-so-covertly tailed him here from the dining hall post-dinner.
"I've been meaning to say hello," she says, "I just arrived, I'm right next door." She extends her hand, smiling a neutral smile. "Allison Carr."
He's seen her around, but he's a private man; she seemed like a private kind of woman. And, with as new as she is, he hasn't directly bothered her about Custodial yet.
So he's glad when she reaches out herself. He wipes his dirty hand on his shirt, then shakes it.
Arthur's response to the seductive stance is to act a little more like a gentleman. She's beautiful, but clearly outclasses him. What else should he do?
He takes off his hat and lets it dangle from a finger. "Just about six months, Mrs. Carr." Not to be rude, but even if there's no ring she looks about old enough to be married or widowed. "You been findin' your way around the Barge alright?"
He's got an accent thick as syrup, his voice slow. It can make him seem a little simple at times, though he's no such thing.
She gives a nonchalant little shrug, then tilts her head just so, putting on a modest grin.
"It's a little flashy for my taste. If I'm honest, I prefer to drink alone, or at least in the cozy comfort of my own room. I'm sure you understand...?"
She's already counting this as a loss, and figuring out how she'll make another attempt. Getting one single bottle of moonshine shouldn't be this hard, for shit's sake, but...
She'll soldier along. Foster this acquaintanceship as best she can. Use it to her advantage in the future.
"Perfect," is what she says aloud, with a genial smile to match. "I'll take you up on that offer to let me in, then, if you'd be so kind as to escort me there?"
He falters a little, but then gamely nods and puts his hat back on. "Not a problem. Quite the place, ain't it? I realize it's a prison, but it's somethin'."
Better than the prison Allison would have</i? ended up in, no doubt.
"It really is," she says, "I can't help but wonder how it all fell into place. Who designed it, how it came to be..."
Small talk. Ugh, she hates it, but she's made it an art form out of necessity. Serves her well here.
"Well, it's likely even more impossible to me. I had to get used to the washing machines," he tells her, with a little smile at her. It's alright - he's weirded out too!
"Damn convenient. Hours I spent standing in some cold fucking river, trying to scrub dirt out of a once-white shirt - take some getting used to again, after bein' here."
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momijizukamori
Spam, finally
She stops him as they are both about to enter their respective cabins. Convenient? Yes, but only because Allison has, of course, oh-so-covertly tailed him here from the dining hall post-dinner.
"I've been meaning to say hello," she says, "I just arrived, I'm right next door." She extends her hand, smiling a neutral smile. "Allison Carr."
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So he's glad when she reaches out herself. He wipes his dirty hand on his shirt, then shakes it.
"Arthur Morgan. Nice to meet you, neighbor."
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And Allison definitely thinks he looks like a cowboy.
"Likewise." She leans against the doorframe, posture purposefully suggestive. She knows what she's doing. "How long have you been aboard?"
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He takes off his hat and lets it dangle from a finger. "Just about six months, Mrs. Carr." Not to be rude, but even if there's no ring she looks about old enough to be married or widowed. "You been findin' your way around the Barge alright?"
He's got an accent thick as syrup, his voice slow. It can make him seem a little simple at times, though he's no such thing.
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She eyes the hat, balanced precariously on his finger. Yep. Cowboy.
"You wouldn't happen to know where a girl could find a good, old-fashioned drink around here, would you?"
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He lets out a low whistle - he also doesn't believe it completely, but does he care? No.
"I was just headin' in, but I can get you there. Need a warden item to get in."
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She gives a nonchalant little shrug, then tilts her head just so, putting on a modest grin.
"It's a little flashy for my taste. If I'm honest, I prefer to drink alone, or at least in the cozy comfort of my own room. I'm sure you understand...?"
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A little flashy. Man.
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She'll soldier along. Foster this acquaintanceship as best she can. Use it to her advantage in the future.
"Perfect," is what she says aloud, with a genial smile to match. "I'll take you up on that offer to let me in, then, if you'd be so kind as to escort me there?"
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"Huh. Never thought about that, I guess."
wow sorry for the formatting craziness in that last tag, i did not realize!!!!
"It's probably a moot point, since the whole thing seems... well, frankly, impossible, at least where I come from. We are in space, after all..."
no problem!!
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"I'll bet," is what Allison says aloud, "I suppose we'll all have some sort of... cultural readjustment issues when we go back home."
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