gunsforhire | It's almost like coming home

Who: Tex and whoever is at the For Hire base
What: She’s heard she still has an empty room and has finally decided to move back into it.
Where: For Hire base
When: Forward dated to 4/6, throughout the day
Warnings: Cursing and the like. I have been warned there may be baking and knitting.
Note: Feel free to name a location/room within the base to find her in (or for her to find you in) or to catch her as she’s coming in/setting up her room.

It had been a surprise when York had asked her if she was planning to stay on base with the rest of them. With how rarely she’s in the Gulch, she had thought her room would have been re-purposed by now. She lets that bit of information sit for the better part of a week before making a decision. There’s safety in numbers and even with her argument with York over the network, it’s a place she can trust to not have her throat slit overnight and if she’s going to be staying for an extended period in the city, she needs that.

She waits until the morning before slipping into the compound. She doesn’t have much, mostly tools of the trade and bare necessities, but the little she has is soon in her room. Her helmet is set on the desk and the door is left open as she sorts through the few belongings that were left behind, primarily clothes she couldn’t carry with her, and settles in. Her room is composed of the most basic of furniture and when she’s finished, her arsenal of guns and various weaponry will be the main feature.

Once her room is situated, she’ll wander the base and see what new additions have been made since she last was here. Eventually she’ll wind up in the kitchen to make and eat lunch before continuing her exploration and perusal of everything the base has to offer.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Startled, Wash whirls around to face Tex, almost dropping the bag of cat food. "Y-yeah. I live here now, actually. My rooms's just down the hall. So, you know. I was just passing through." Tex has always scared Wash. She's a woman who could kick your ass and probably not think twice about it. Plus, the look on York's face every time she was brought up...

She had forgotten how much she enjoyed the effect she had on some of the other mercenaries. It's a nice confirmation of her reputation.

"Just down the hall, huh?" she asks as she sets down the shirt and purposefully walks towards him. "I'm going to have to get used to the new neighbors. You have a bunch of cats you keep cooped up around here?"

"Yeah, I do." Wash relaxes when Tex brings up the cats. They're his pride and joy, practically his children. "Right now I've got three. I take 'em in when there's a plague cloud. They eventually run away again, off to bigger and better things, but there are always a few around. Wanna meet them?"

Why is she not surprised? Cats aren't her preferred pet, but she remembers Wash's fancy of them.

"If they're going to be roaming the compound, yeah. How many of them do you haul in when a cloud hits?" Because she can imagine him covered in cats as he tries to get them to safety.

"C'mon then, let's go." Wash picks the bag of cat food back up and continues walking down the hall to his room.

"I think my record's seven? I was on Main Street when the warning came, and there were so many strays, I couldn't leave them all alone like that. Some of them were even declawed, can you believe it? Like, who would do that to a poor cat?"

They've reached Wash's room. Almost immediately after Wash opens the door, he can hear his cats meowing. They've gone without food for long enough.

She falls into step behind him. Saving a bunch of cats from the clouds isn't something she's ever considered doing herself and she shakes her head in amusement at his concern.

"Someone who got tired of their ankles being clawed at," she replies with a shrug. "I've never stopped to ask or check any of their paws."

This is the first she's even been made aware such a problem exists. The extended jobs she normally worked didn't lend well to keeping animals. She hears the meowing coming from inside his room and tries to glance around him to catch a glimpse. "You keep them in here when you're gone?"

"If you're being clawed at, there's usually a reason. Find out what that reason is, don't remove an animal's main source of defense. These assholes leave their poor, declawed cats to fend for themselves, but it's nearly impossible for a cat to fend for itself if they don't have claws."

Wash kneels down next to a few large dishes and fills them up with the cat food. Three cats, one black and two tabbies, come out from hiding. Wash's face lights up and he strokes them in greeting.

"Yeah, for the most part. They roam around the base, too, I've installed a little cat door for them, but they tend to stay in here when I'm gone. Nap, clean themselves, live the secret life of cats. The usual."

"You don't need to rant at me, I don't have any plans to run around removing claws from all the strays." Hell, she barely spent any time around any of the animals in the city.

She waits until one of the cats finishes welcoming Wash home before kneeling down to let it sniff her hand. She'd prefer to have a dog around here, but she supposes cats will do fine. For now, anyway. "As long as they don't get in the way."

Was Wash ranting? He didn't think he was. There's a lot more where that came from. Tex didn't even get Wash started on the plague clouds. Or the importance of protein in a cat's diet. That's probably for the best, though.

"Right, of course you don't. Um. Sorry."

Was Tex threatening his cats with that last comment? Wash eyes her suspiciously, trying to determine if she's a threat to them. Wash will do anything to keep those cats safe. He's already learned that under no circumstances do you let a cat near Florida.

"Define...getting in the way."

She's of the opinion that it's best to head off potential cat ranting at the pass. She likes the animals well enough, but isn't overly concerned with their survival. They were able to live well enough before Wash's help and she has a feeling they'll continue to do so while they can.

Once the cat has had its fill of sniffing her hand, she scratches lightly behind its ears as she looks up at him.

"They don't go in the rooms for training and live-fire testing, right?" Because tripping over a cat with a loaded weapon in hand? On the bottom of her list of things she wants to do.

"Um. Well, one did, once but that didn't, ah, end too well." Wash all of a sudden grows very interested in his fingernails. "See, I guess people don't really like to be interrupted while they train. And while they're holding weapons." Wash shrugs. "For some reason."

He pauses, and shudders.

"It took a week to get the blood out of the floor." And his clothes. But Tex doesn't need to know that bit, and Wash doesn't particularly want to remember.

Ouch. Now she's curious as to who would have done that and whether it was an accident or not.

"Just don't install any cat doors for those rooms," she replies and gives the cat in front of her one last pet before standing. "Shouldn't be a problem if they stay out of the way."

It's almost like coming home

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