[He offers quiet agreement, his expression making it clear he definitely won't blame anyone for trying to kill her. He just also... doesn't think that'll fix anything. He could be wrong, but inmates died to get here, in the first place...
Once up there, he pockets his device, his expression giving away his own tiredness. He leans against the nearest sturdy surface, looking up at the sky. Before any walking:]
Any updates...?
[Cloud hasn't been able to ask about James since they hauled them there.]
[Raylan was more comfortable face to face. There were no hang ups - people had to walk away if they wanted to stop having a conversation and that still didn't get rid of him following, if he felt like it. Or scaring them into leaving him alone, if he had to.
He kept his gaze up on the inky black, studded with pinprick stars and rolled his 4th cigarette in the last hour between his fingers. Better, maybe, that he run out, stop a nasty habit he shouldn't've picked up.]
He's in a coma. He's okay, aside from that. Whatever the fuck she put in my flask poisoned both my partner and my fuckin' inmate. Roman got my gun. Shot John Seed in a fit. Sent me crawlin' along the walls like a scared and wild hillbilly. All because they drank from my goddamned fist. Sufferin' a death toll is least she could suffer, and it needn't be on my hands.
More pissed off that you were right, and that we didn't fuckin' see it in the first place.
[Validation did a lot. Comfort wasn't something that Raylan took easily, even from the people close to him; Validation was the next best option. Even if he was a little surprised that someone was okay with his temper getting any air at all.]
No idea. I don't know the lady. Never talked to her, never officially met her. Never fuckin' did anything to her. It's onna those rare times where I'm happy to let the rest of the mob tear her to bits. That'll be satisfyin' enough.
You're not.. Okay with what she did to you, are you? Not that I'm suggestin' you put her down or anythin'."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
-> spam
Once up there, he pockets his device, his expression giving away his own tiredness. He leans against the nearest sturdy surface, looking up at the sky. Before any walking:]
Any updates...?
[Cloud hasn't been able to ask about James since they hauled them there.]
Re: -> spam
He kept his gaze up on the inky black, studded with pinprick stars and rolled his 4th cigarette in the last hour between his fingers. Better, maybe, that he run out, stop a nasty habit he shouldn't've picked up.]
He's in a coma. He's okay, aside from that. Whatever the fuck she put in my flask poisoned both my partner and my fuckin' inmate. Roman got my gun. Shot John Seed in a fit. Sent me crawlin' along the walls like a scared and wild hillbilly. All because they drank from my goddamned fist. Sufferin' a death toll is least she could suffer, and it needn't be on my hands.
no subject
[It's an attempt at comfort - or... validation, maybe? Which maybe can be comforting, all its own. He thinks for a moment...]
Is this something... she's done before?
no subject
[Validation did a lot. Comfort wasn't something that Raylan took easily, even from the people close to him; Validation was the next best option. Even if he was a little surprised that someone was okay with his temper getting any air at all.]
No idea. I don't know the lady. Never talked to her, never officially met her. Never fuckin' did anything to her. It's onna those rare times where I'm happy to let the rest of the mob tear her to bits. That'll be satisfyin' enough.
You're not.. Okay with what she did to you, are you? Not that I'm suggestin' you put her down or anythin'."