There’s not much to do at the campfire, really. So Bill isn't there. He had wandered off briefly, alone time he had said. He wasn’t too far, he could still see it’s light and warmth in the distance, but he was still alone. The more time he spent here, though, the less he preferred solitude. Not only because of the dangers in the fog, but because quite frankly the others have grown on him. A soft spot if you will.
He shuffles around his pocket for a moment before cursing and digging the heel of his boot in the ground. No more cigarettes. Damn that entity, he hated depending upon it for anything. Even for cigarettes. Flicking the lighter on and off absentmindedly, Bill leans against a tree. Couldn’t it put a fucking corner store or something in this awful place? Wouldn’t hurt anybody.
Post by Amanda Young on Mar 22, 2021 0:44:30 GMT -6
Amanda happened upon the old solider, watching him for a few moments.
She kept a few cigs in her pocket. Stolen from Adam, he never seemed to notice and she got to keep three on her. "Hey," She said, digging in one of the cargo pockets in her pants. "Merry Christmas." Presenting him with a cigarette that looked no worse for wear, despite where it'd been stored.
There was a long few moments of Amanda just...Standing there, before speaking again, "You got room for company here?" She wasn't good at interactions, and especially less so if there was no chance that they'd blow up into a big messy fight... She knew how to prepare for that, if was easy. Shes trying to get better though, less aggressive. She couldn't keep it up after coming to this side of the realm. She came here for a purpose - she didn't want to do the Entity's bidding anymore. It hurt her more than she thought it helped. And naïvely, maybe Amanda did think killing so mindlessly helped in it's own way. She got it out of her system, didn't she? Now she has a chance at normalcy. She hopes she doesn't fuck this up, too.
Any interaction with Bill was most likely not a pleasant one. He’d managed the will power to at least be cordial with Amanda in any interaction. There was no maliciousness, no leaving her behind in the trials, but he carried himself with a fierce coldness that seemed reserved for her at the campfire. It was a natural response. So many times he and people he cared for dearly had been at the opposing side of her blade, and now, she’s offering him a cigarette that looked like it had been through a car accident. He takes it from her hands anyways, though, even if the frown that set on his face remained. For a moment, he’s silent. No, he does not have room for company here. He does not like her. Go away, back to all the more forgiving people.
His face softens -slightly- and he turns away from Amanda to light it. “Do you see anybody else here?” he replies, waving his hand. That means he has plenty of room, even if he doesn’t outright accept her offer of company. “What do you want?” Usually, people don’t mingle with old men that silently direct their distrust at them, unless the person wants something from them and has the courage to ask.
Post by Amanda Young on Apr 28, 2021 20:27:01 GMT -6
"You could have imaginary friends I don't see," Amanda teased, it was true. She wouldn't be surprised to see, the Fog did strange things to people. Made people believe their Goddess was here, guiding them with her divine hand. It turned everyone against each other in moments where it mattered the most. What did a little company hurt, after all she had been through? Bill was good enough company, too. Quiet, stories to tell. That was the main appeal. He could talk for however long he wanted, and Amanda could listen to someone human, someone flesh and blood. It's what reminded her that she was human sometimes, that she was more than what John ever made her believe. She could have companionship, be normal. Be a survivor, something that maybe she should have been from the start. She survived through so much, so so much. All to be put in the same situation, it made her feel sick to think about. Amanda pushed the thought out. "A story for a cigarette?" She prompted, straightforward. "Don't care what, just want you to talk at me for twenty minutes." A joke, accompanied with a grin. Of course, Bill wasn't the one that you thought to go to for stories, or for conversation at all but... She was sure all of the kids at the campfire wanted war stories from Peepaw Bill.
Not that Amanda was different from them, right now. She didn't want war stories specifically, but other than age, that's all she had over them. "Can I borrow your light?" Needy as ever. She had a lighter in her pocket, but she felt like pushing buttons... But only a little, again. No fights. And maybe she wanted the kindness shown to her of someone being willing to share something of theirs with her. It was different when Adam did it, when Tapp did it. That was pity, she knew it was. It had to be. There was nothing else that it could be. With Bill, though? What the fuck did he know of her? That she'd killed a few people, that she was a sick murderer? Big whoop. So did everyone else in this Hellish place. "Or I can go walk to the campfire, but that won't get rid of me. I'll end up right back here." Without his permission even, she sat down near him. Expectations of a light, a story, and company. Maybe it was too much. She didn't have much in return, other than of course, the cigarette. That was worth a bit though, to her anyway. And to Adam, and the very few people that smoked in the realm.