text | un: vaquero

[quinientos]

how do you switch this thing to spanish?

[Nothing should be said about the embarrassing amount of time it's taken him to type up that message, but suffice to say, meals could be had (with dessert), flowers might wilt, and mayflys inched stoically to death. Maybe it's an exaggeration, but it doesn't really feel that much of one to him]

Comments

[quinientos]

[Vasquez is scowling as they talk about rich people, because that's always going to be a reaction when he hears about rich people, getting richer, but he schools the sneer on his face because it's not time for him to complain about his poor circumstances.]

Really? Most people, where I come from, they don't bother with the prisons. Turn to the 'dead' part of 'dead or alive' pretty fast.

[acuerdo]

[they're not too unalike in that circumstance. robbie's not exactly rolling in the dough as the phrase goes. but he does what he can to survive, keep a roof over his and his brother's head. he'd like for gabe to head off to college already but money's tighter than he cares to admit. conversations for another time.]

Yeah. Modern criminal justice. They don't kill you unless you're sentenced to death and some places don't permit that. So, there's prisons filled with people who're just there to die a lot slower.

[quinientos]

[Prison would've meant that Vasquez had a chance to escape and get out. He would have, eventually, too. Now he can understand why it is that he wouldn't have been given the option of being locked up, at least, not for the bounty on his head.]

But it's not here, right? Whatever you did before, no one is going to try and put you in the orange suits here because of it?

[acuerdo]

[there's nothing about this place that leads robbie to believe that vasquez or anyone else for that matter might be in danger of being jailed. no, if anything, he figures if the city didn't want them here, they'd just send them packing. return to sender as it were.]

I don't think they would. I'm not a saint, but they didn't put me in a cell. Besides, I don't know that they would've let us in if we were really just meant for a jail cell. Why bother at that point?

[quinientos]

Entertainment, maybe, for someone very sick.

[ Snorting, he shakes his head, half wishing that he were given the choice of a jail cell over a hanging (or a shooting), because then he could pick that and he could escape. He'd be very good at escaping, he thinks. ]

[acuerdo]

That's messed up and sounds like the kind of thing they'd do on a reality tv show.

[he shakes his head trying to clear the thought of being on some kind of show where they put strangers in a house and force them to manipulate one another. this definitely doesn't feel like that.

does vasquez know anything about reality tv yet? if not, then he's in for a serious education.]

[quinientos]

On a what now?

[Isn't everything reality? How would it be a show, then? This is just more painful looks into what passes for the future and he's really not sure how much he likes it.]

[acuerdo]

Reality tv. Uh. Moving pictures? They record people's lives.

[this is really going to be a thing that's easier to explain by showing.]

Remind me the next time we grab a drink. I'll just show you.

[quinientos]

I feel like I'm going to need a drink. I feel like I'm going to need all the drinks to understand this place. How does everyone do it?

[acuerdo]

Maybe I'll just make it a bottle. I'm guessing it's easier if you've already been around some modern technology.

I imagine I'd be pretty lost where you're from. I don't even know how to ride a horse.

[quinientos]

Trust me, there's nothing like it. Maybe one day, I can show you, in exchange for you showing me your car.