"'The Enlightenment'", he echoes. "I'm guessin' taht you're talking about religion, about the church, but - That phrasin' feels like it gives them more credit then they deserve."
While no where near as complex as Red's feelings on religion, Raylan had his own views and opinions about the institution.
"But that's interesting. Not somethin' I would have guessed. Lemme ask you somethin- you ever put that skill to use on flesh? Stitches, that kinda thing?"
The way his irises disappear behind his lids at the first suggestion implies there's clarification to be had, but neither of them should probably dwell. So he doesn't.
"Course." A quick shrug of his head makes it's obvious he's done it more than once.
"Stitches ain't as straight, given the habit of folk squirmin', but I can get shit back where it needs ta be."
"Think I could talk ya into teachin' me how? After Roman's thing, I had to stitch him closed. I managed, he didn't bleed out or anythin' but if it's somethin' I'm gonna havta do, I wanna do it well enough that it doesn't have to be redone or introduce.. I dunno, gappin' issues or something."
He lifts a hand before Red can answer. "And I know that's gonna require a deal. I don't mind payin', or bein' held in the debt until I can do somethin' useful for you." Which was an advance of his opinion on it all before, but he trusted Sweeney in a way he hadn't when they first started getting to know each other.
Sweeney grows quieter, considering the turn in topics and unsure how to feel about where they're finding themselves. It's not bad, just a little uncomfortable.
"Deals ain't 'bout what I want."
He says it more gently than he normally would, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't rather just not have to say it in the first place. He feels like he's bashing his head into a post; a Groundhog's Day of explaining how he exists.
"It's 'bout how much Value ya put on what ya want. What's it worth fer you ta get it. That ain't on me ta assign."
"And that's about where I get tripped up. I'm used to value being money or labor - You want me to pay? I'll find a way to do that. You want me to work on somethin' in payment, I'm happy with that too, but how I pay for it can't determine the value of makin' sure someone you care about doesn't bleed out all over your couch, ya know?"
They'd had this conversation long ago, when Raylan was first dealing with Red and his Deals, but he still owed Red a question that he hadn't claimed, and paying with questions and information felt like not paying at all.
"I much prefer the barter and trade system, I gotta tell you."
Raylan sighs heavily out his nose, hands finding their place on his hips as he chews his liver a little, more open about it now that he was firmly comfortable with Red seeing it. He wasn't trying to be difficult, he swears - he just found it more than a struggle to break out of the ease of trade/barter.
"And what's the runnin' cost for learnin' to thread a needle," he says quietly. "How about I owe you a service. A run in port, an ask somewhere, someone who needs a bullet in their ass or somethin'."
He just couldn't find the door into other understanding.
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While no where near as complex as Red's feelings on religion, Raylan had his own views and opinions about the institution.
"But that's interesting. Not somethin' I would have guessed. Lemme ask you somethin- you ever put that skill to use on flesh? Stitches, that kinda thing?"
no subject
"Course." A quick shrug of his head makes it's obvious he's done it more than once.
"Stitches ain't as straight, given the habit of folk squirmin', but I can get shit back where it needs ta be."
no subject
He lifts a hand before Red can answer. "And I know that's gonna require a deal. I don't mind payin', or bein' held in the debt until I can do somethin' useful for you." Which was an advance of his opinion on it all before, but he trusted Sweeney in a way he hadn't when they first started getting to know each other.
no subject
"Deals ain't 'bout what I want."
He says it more gently than he normally would, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't rather just not have to say it in the first place. He feels like he's bashing his head into a post; a Groundhog's Day of explaining how he exists.
"It's 'bout how much Value ya put on what ya want. What's it worth fer you ta get it. That ain't on me ta assign."
no subject
They'd had this conversation long ago, when Raylan was first dealing with Red and his Deals, but he still owed Red a question that he hadn't claimed, and paying with questions and information felt like not paying at all.
"I much prefer the barter and trade system, I gotta tell you."
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"But yer not askin' fer me ta keep someone ya care 'bout from bleedin' out," he notes, plainly but with a softer edge.
"Yer askin' fer me ta teach ya how ta sew. What ya do with that shit after is yer business."
The sentiment of his point is that Raylan shouldn't overthink it into something that's more expensive than it has to be.
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"And what's the runnin' cost for learnin' to thread a needle," he says quietly. "How about I owe you a service. A run in port, an ask somewhere, someone who needs a bullet in their ass or somethin'."
He just couldn't find the door into other understanding.