[For some reason, Fiona never thought about Wilson having family. Something about being scarred and wearing a mask and thinking superheroes are real, that all seems like some kind of story, like he came out of nothing. It's strange-- stranger than Wilson is on his own-- to think he's got a normal, vaguely familiar past.]
[It's even stranger to think he comes from the same stock as her. But it's comforting, in an unexpected way. He's one of them, one of what she is. She deflates a little-] Nobody deserves shit, and nobody keeps their word. But I'm here anyway, what else am I gonna do?
[You just have to keep going. Every day, you keep going.] I'm sure not gonna die again. [She's done with that.]
[It takes Fiona a moment to figure out what he's doing. He's trying to cheer her up? Normally, she'd be angry, or offended, but at the moment, she just came back from the dead and stabbed him. This whole day has been too much, and she decides to laugh instead of crying over it.]
[She reaches out to brush her fingers over the little heart Wilson's made, trying with something like playfulness to break it in half. Can they just forget what just happened? Fiona's sure trying.] Alright, alright, deal. Neither of us're allowed to die. [Ha, ha.] Anything else with the knife?
[Ahhhh, noooo, fuuuuuuck, why is she touching him again, why's she gotta always do that, why's she gotta make this weiiiiiiiiird. He lets his fingers fall, trying to pretend they aren't tingling.]
Just make sure you clean it well after you use it. You take care of your tools, they'll take care of you.
[She stares at the knife, still a little bloody. She can remember
that, clean your toys.] Yeah, okay. I can do that. And, uh,
don't- don't tell anybody about this, okay? [She means the crying
and stabbing, but, you know, she's hardly going to clarify that when she's
trying so hard to forget it happened in the first place.]
[Fiona, who prides herself on her emotional restraint, assumes she's
being teased for her earlier failure. Her mouth twists into a frown-- anger
is safer.] Okay, fucking tell people, see if I care. [She
folds her arms over her chest. This is rapidly approaching kindergarten
levels of maturity, but who cares, she's going to win.]
Yeah, you're real fucking great at stabbing yourself, congrats. [She
realizes that her bluff is somewhat moot, because Wilson is great, but he's
also fucking strange. She's going to have to show her hand, isn't she? Or,
well. She's going to have to stop pretending like she's got a hand to show.]
[She deflates a little, but the anger stays on her face.]
Just leave out the part where I cried like a bitch, okay?
[Great. Peachy. He just throws his hands up and walks, viciously kicking out whenever he walks by one of those strange snowpeople lurking outside of people's rovers.
[Fiona would like to keep going, possibly yelling something about
how there's someone here named Obi-Wan Kenobi, but then he whirls on her,
and that throws her off a little. It seems meaner than she wants to be.]
[Instead, she reaches down to grab a snowball and lob it at her
head. That's perfectly reasonable. Her aim is... not bad.]
[His expression is venomous, and for a moment, he's really debating retaliating with either snow or a bullet. Fortunately, he seems inclined to spin on his heel again, stomping off back towards his rover.
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[Like she hadn't just made an offer that would make most people double take.]
My mom was an alcoholic though. Real mean drunk. Had to learn to move quick. Only so many places a kid can hide.
[He lapses into silence, thinking.] Animals don't deserve shit. People, though. People usually do. You think you got this, fine.
But if you're dead, I really doubt some shitty little so-called contract is gonna make these fucks keep their word.
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[It's even stranger to think he comes from the same stock as her. But it's comforting, in an unexpected way. He's one of them, one of what she is. She deflates a little-] Nobody deserves shit, and nobody keeps their word. But I'm here anyway, what else am I gonna do?
[You just have to keep going. Every day, you keep going.] I'm sure not gonna die again. [She's done with that.]
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Damn right you aren't. If you do, I'll kill ya. [He fixes his fingers into the shape of a heart.]
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[She reaches out to brush her fingers over the little heart Wilson's made, trying with something like playfulness to break it in half. Can they just forget what just happened? Fiona's sure trying.] Alright, alright, deal. Neither of us're allowed to die. [Ha, ha.] Anything else with the knife?
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Just make sure you clean it well after you use it. You take care of your tools, they'll take care of you.
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[She stares at the knife, still a little bloody. She can remember that, clean your toys.] Yeah, okay. I can do that. And, uh, don't- don't tell anybody about this, okay? [She means the crying and stabbing, but, you know, she's hardly going to clarify that when she's trying so hard to forget it happened in the first place.]
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[Fiona, who prides herself on her emotional restraint, assumes she's being teased for her earlier failure. Her mouth twists into a frown-- anger is safer.] Okay, fucking tell people, see if I care. [She folds her arms over her chest. This is rapidly approaching kindergarten levels of maturity, but who cares, she's going to win.]
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Yeah, you're real fucking great at stabbing yourself, congrats. [She realizes that her bluff is somewhat moot, because Wilson is great, but he's also fucking strange. She's going to have to show her hand, isn't she? Or, well. She's going to have to stop pretending like she's got a hand to show.]
[She deflates a little, but the anger stays on her face.] Just leave out the part where I cried like a bitch, okay?
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[The crying?] I'm not fuckin' telling anyone, Jesus.
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Oh, whatever. [Constantly reoccurring themes with Wilson: movie characters, finding creative ways to hurt yourself, and movie characters.]
Yeah, thanks. You can laugh it up by yourself.
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Why does he even bother trying to be nice?]
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[Fiona, meanwhile, is a sore loser (because this is clearly an argument that she lost). She shouts at his back as he walks away:]
Yeah? Well, Captain America was a shitty movie!
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MAYBE YOU SHOULD READ THE DAMN FILES!
[At least his movie was shitty. That's a consolation.]
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[Fiona is always happy to yell!]
I DID AND IT WAS STILL A SHITTY MOVIE!
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THEN YOU'D KNOW HE'S A REAL FUCKING PERSON AND NOT A GODDAMN MOVIE!
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[Fiona would like to keep going, possibly yelling something about how there's someone here named Obi-Wan Kenobi, but then he whirls on her, and that throws her off a little. It seems meaner than she wants to be.]
[Instead, she reaches down to grab a snowball and lob it at her head. That's perfectly reasonable. Her aim is... not bad.]
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Lord have mercy on anyone who's in his way.]