She doesn't move when he does, doesn't lean forward, doesn't lean back. Just watches him.
She said she might, not that she's interested now. She said that she might be open to it, not that she's made up her mind. Then he leans back and she shakes her head.
"We'll have to see how things go." Sometimes she's a bit more literally a straight shooter than anticipated. "Anyone given you trouble yet, over coming in hard?"
The look is telling. Eric should be more respectful and to him, he is. But, Rosita did ask, however rhetorically it might have been and he simply stated, in not so many words, that he'd like that.
He lets out a chuckle before moving his gaze back out beyond the deck. "Ironically, no. I half expected a lynch mob to seek me out. Should I still expect it?"
She doesn't mind. The things she's survived- both before and after the virus - have left her with a thick enough skin to tolerate two people feeling out each other's boundaries.
He responds, and whether that's more his natural inclination, something about her, or Godric's nearby presence remains to be seen. As far as the question goes though, she shrugs again.
"I stabbed someone when I first came on board. It took her wife a few weeks to try to get her licks in, and the flood distracted people soon after your arrival. I would say it's not off the table. I'll also say the source may surprise you if it comes."
"I'm not worried if anyone does," Eric replies, seemingly indifferent about the whole experience. He's been hunted in his own world, too, and right now, he's pretty sure there will be hunters on the barge, in some capacity or another.
He shifts, turning to face her more while still keeping his distance. "That sounds more like a warning coming from you than what might come from the friend of someone else I killed."
Which was still very much unintentional given the less-than-clear circumstances of his arrival.
"What do you mean?" she asks, watching him. The stoicism is... neither here nor there just now in her opinion. She isn't happy that she hurt people when she arrived, but she thought she had to under the circumstances. If she'd had warning, she wouldn't have. As far as she's concerned it's the Admiral's fault.
"You said retaliation might not be off the table and the source may surprise me, if it comes," he repeats, though it's without accusation. He may have understood what she meant by saying that, though it still sounds a lot like it was an indirect warning coming from her for hurting Jesus.
Either way, he's not too worried. However, there is a small part of him that thinks maybe he should be, at least a little.
Eric lifts his head in understanding, finally getting what she meant.
"Well, you have nothing to worry about. The frenzy is done and that kind of temper only comes out when I don't sleep or eat," he tells her, tilting his head into a shrug that suggests she can believe him or not. He wouldn't try to convince her. Eric didn't know her well enough to care.
There's a quiet pause before he looks at her again.
"What happened to you before coming here that made you into who you are? You're hardened and fiercely protective of Jesus. Are you both from the same place?"
That or she's been there longer than he originally guessed.
"We are." Rosita can be cagey with details, especially with strangers, but this she doesn't mind being common knowledge. It's not worth trying to hide, and it's nothing either of them can change, given how different their world is from most of the others she's heard of here.
"There was a virus in our world, a couple years ago. It killed almost everyone, and then... brought them back." It's a gross oversimplification, but there aren't really words to convey the horror of it all anyway, so she starts there. "Anyone left has had to work pretty fucking hard to survive. Other survivors, as much as the dead."
At first, Eric can't help but compare it to his own world; the battle between vampire the undead and the humans who made it their mission to wipe them off the face of the planet and vice versa. But there is a difference and he listens without saying anything until she's finished.
"Is that how you ended up here?" he questions, curious if her hard work inevitably didn't pay off.
"Last thing I remember is getting shot by a limpdick traitor that was supposed to be helping us," she answers, waspish.
"There's someone else here from further on than I am, says I survived that battle, but I don't remember that. I remember going down there, and waking up here without any explanation - which is the only reason, by the way, I didn't come right for you in the first place."
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She said she might, not that she's interested now. She said that she might be open to it, not that she's made up her mind. Then he leans back and she shakes her head.
"We'll have to see how things go." Sometimes she's a bit more literally a straight shooter than anticipated. "Anyone given you trouble yet, over coming in hard?"
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He lets out a chuckle before moving his gaze back out beyond the deck. "Ironically, no. I half expected a lynch mob to seek me out. Should I still expect it?"
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He responds, and whether that's more his natural inclination, something about her, or Godric's nearby presence remains to be seen. As far as the question goes though, she shrugs again.
"I stabbed someone when I first came on board. It took her wife a few weeks to try to get her licks in, and the flood distracted people soon after your arrival. I would say it's not off the table. I'll also say the source may surprise you if it comes."
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He shifts, turning to face her more while still keeping his distance. "That sounds more like a warning coming from you than what might come from the friend of someone else I killed."
Which was still very much unintentional given the less-than-clear circumstances of his arrival.
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Others don't agree.
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Either way, he's not too worried. However, there is a small part of him that thinks maybe he should be, at least a little.
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"I said I was letting this one go. I meant it. If it happens again that's off the table, but we'll deal with it then."
If it happens again, Rosita won't care what Godric says about it, or Jesus himself. Not unless it's wildly out of the ordinary.
"It might be someone you didn't know even cared about anyone you hurt, or it might be someone using the excuse."
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"Well, you have nothing to worry about. The frenzy is done and that kind of temper only comes out when I don't sleep or eat," he tells her, tilting his head into a shrug that suggests she can believe him or not. He wouldn't try to convince her. Eric didn't know her well enough to care.
There's a quiet pause before he looks at her again.
"What happened to you before coming here that made you into who you are? You're hardened and fiercely protective of Jesus. Are you both from the same place?"
That or she's been there longer than he originally guessed.
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"There was a virus in our world, a couple years ago. It killed almost everyone, and then... brought them back." It's a gross oversimplification, but there aren't really words to convey the horror of it all anyway, so she starts there. "Anyone left has had to work pretty fucking hard to survive. Other survivors, as much as the dead."
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"Is that how you ended up here?" he questions, curious if her hard work inevitably didn't pay off.
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"There's someone else here from further on than I am, says I survived that battle, but I don't remember that. I remember going down there, and waking up here without any explanation - which is the only reason, by the way, I didn't come right for you in the first place."