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[almosthonorable]

Milliways is much cooler than Texas, so this pleasant afternoon finds Ben out back, leading a freshly brushed Gabriel to the paddock.

He gives the horse's gleaming neck a brief pat, and offers up an apple before turning to his next order of business: cleaning tack.

A few yards from the fence, beneath the shade of a nearby tree, Ben sets up a makeshift table using two sawhorses and a sturdy length of plywood. He spreads a blanket, and hauls up the saddle, removing the stirrups and cinches with deft, callused fingers.

Gabriel observes with mild interest from the other side of the fence, content to munch his McIntosh.

Ben flips over the saddle to check the sheepskin, and powers on a handheld Dustbuster.

Vacuum technology is delightful.




[ ooc: benjamin is all kinds of botherable; open till it scrolls. ]

Comments

[abyssum_invocat]

Sinthia has seen many, many things: most of them not appropriate in any sense for a girl of less than ten. But most of them she can at least rationalize: that is how people act. Especially people in war.

What Ben Wade is doing, however, is nigh incomprehensible: she has never ridden a horse, nor been overly close to one. But her glider has just landed near both of them, and so she must venture near enough to have dependable control over picking it up from afar.

[almosthonorable]

Catching movement in his periphery, Ben powers down the Dustbuster.

Gabriel, unperturbed, pricks his ears toward the new arrival.

Ben glances from the glider to the girl, and tips his head toward her in acknowledgment.

[abyssum_invocat]

She cocks her head as her attention shifts from the horse--who seems remarkably unconcerned with her--to the man. It's almost like watching a frame flick over in a badly-cut film, there's so complete a focus there. The glider glides (ha, ha) over to her outstretched hand as if by a string, where she takes hold of it.

"What are you doing?" she asks, voice soft and mostly unperturbed.

[almosthonorable]

That earns Gabriel's full attention. As the glider returns to the girl, his ears flatten, and he snorts his displeasure.

Ben cocks an eyebrow.

"Caretaking, little miss," he says lightly. "Keepin' my affairs in order, such as they are."

[abyssum_invocat]

"Doesn't that usually go on the horse?" she asks, keeping half her attention on Gabriel for now: flattened ears in horses, much like cats her in limited experience, are not a good sign. At least this one has no claws, however little good that does her with their relative sizes. Still she holds onto her glider tighter.

"My name is Sinthia." It's relatively easy, for anyone who's been around the bar before, to place her as German from the accent, and somewhere relatively modern by her dress: it may be unrelieved black still, but it's scrupulously clean and tidy.

[almosthonorable]

"Miss Sinthia," Ben echoes, "it's a pleasure. I'm Ben."

Listening to his master, Gabriel's ears twitch forward by half, somewhat appeased but still uneasy.

"This, here," and Ben gestures toward the saddle, "does go on my horse over there. Makes it a lot easier than riding him bareback — or trying to."

He gestures to the stirrups and cinches.

"It's a good idea to take a look at everything when you can, inspect for wear and tear, keep it all in good condition. That's not just for you, as a rider — it's for your horse, too."

[abyssum_invocat]

"I imagine it would make it significantly harder to fall off," she says, studying the saddle though she'd be the first to admit horses and their accoutrements are not her area of expertise.

(You don't want to know what is.)

"So that...machine," she says, lifting a hand to indicate the vacuum, "What does it do?"

[almosthonorable]

The kid may be peculiar as hell, but Ben appreciates her curiosity.

"Makes an unholy racket," he says, hefting the Dustbuster an inch higher for emphasis. "Miss Bar calls it a Dustbuster — a little vacuum cleaner that pulls up dirt and dust."

While Gabriel listens, watchful and still wary, his tail swishing, Ben gestures to the sheepskin lining of his upside-down saddle.

"Pretty good job so far, and it's quite a bit faster than goin' at it with a hand-brush."

[abyssum_invocat]

Peculiar, in all honestly, probably barely scratches the surface of what Sinthia is, though if she knew she'd appreciate the discretion.

"It seems efficient," she says at length, and in a way that says she's very plainly never seen something of the sort before. Sinthia likes to be tidy, perhaps she should investigate this. "May I watch you? I've never seen anyone do this. We don't have horses where I am." She's seen them certainly, and seen people riding them, though Sinthia has never tried it herself.

[almosthonorable]

"That'd be fine," Ben says, a wry half-smile lifting one corner of his mouth, "though I can't speak to the quality of my company."

He neatly vacuums the rest of the sheepskin, and powers off the Dustbuster once more.

"You don't have horses at all?" he asks, flipping over the saddle to sit upright.

[abyssum_invocat]

"You're fine company," Sinthia replies lightly. "You've already talked to me more than most people do."

She has a reputation, though thankfully it has yet to fully follow her here. Here most people just think she's a little strange, bordering on creepy, because she lacks most of the mannerisms that normal children have.

"Oh, they exist. I've seen them, but they don't live in the mountains where I am." She shrugs. "I've never gotten particularly close to them."

[childofrebellion]

Cassian's taking a walk outside as he's been on too many space stations and needs to see some sunlight. When he sees Ben, he walks over with a thoughtful look, "That catching everything?"

He's in his brown jacket with his blaster at his hip and stretching his neck.

[almosthonorable]

Ben powers down the Dustbuster, and adjusts his hat with his free hand.

(Milliways may not be Texas, but it's a warm day.)

"Damn near it," he says, as cheerful as the weather. "Miss Bar's accoutrements hardly ever disappoint."

[childofrebellion]

"Useful, always good to have the right tool."

He looks over what Ben's cleaning, he doesn't have a lot of experience with saddles.

[almosthonorable]

One corner of Ben's mouth twitches into a half-smile.

"The wave of the future," he says, hefting the Dustbuster, "or so I'm told. But for you, well — "

He tips his head toward Cassian.

"Maybe not quite as novel, is it?"

[childofrebellion]

Cassian considers the cleaner, "Usually ones that size are on a mouse or a household droid."

[almosthonorable]

"You've got rodents runnin' around with these things?"

[childofrebellion]

"No, droids. About this size," He gestures with his hands to something about the size of a loaf of bread.

[almosthonorable]

"Stumbled across a few, bein' around and about here," Ben says with a mild nod, trading the Dustbuster for a hand brush.

"Pleasant enough," he continues, shrugging one shoulder. "I'm not averse to advanced machinery, necessarily, but I tend to prefer flesh-and-blood interactions."

[childofrebellion]

"Droids can be reliable and they're not good liars."

Cassian appreciates that about them, a droid won't have a lot of layers to hide behind.

[almosthonorable]

Ben considers this.

"Seems I could say the same for most people I know."

[childofrebellion]

"Yes, I just like working with droids." He knows what to expect from them.

[sunbaked_baker]

Around the time Ben reaches a good place in progress for a short rest (one's years in food service don't go to waste when it comes to having good timing), he might find himself being offered a tall, cold glass of water, and a smile.

"Hey, you."

Sunshine may look a little more tired, and may be sporting a few more scars than last time they crossed paths, and her hair is much shorter, but her smile is the same: real, and glad to see him.

[almosthonorable]

Eyes narrowed in concentration, Ben circles the saddle stand he hauled out of the barn, and sponges off one final bit of saddle soap.

Satisfied at last, he turns; he's as surprised as he is tickled to see Rae approaching.

"Didn't think it was possible to improve perfection, and yet," he says, taking the water in one hand, and offering a hug with his free arm, "I'm graced by Little Miss Sunshine herself."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Nothing more than icing on the cake," she says self-deprecatingly, grinning at him. Ben may have one hand occupied with the glass, but once her hand is free there's nothing stopping Sunshine from giving him a full-on hug.

"It has been entirely too long, Ben Wade," she says into his shoulder, so very glad to see him. Rae does eventually let him go, though, stepping back to grin at him. "I was beginning to worry this place wasn't respectable enough for you."

Last time she saw him, he was in Texas, working for... dare she say... honest wages???

[almosthonorable]

Ben chuckles.

"By virtue of company as fine and fair as yours, I do believe we can class up the joint."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I'm sure it could use all the help it could get," she grins at him. "Things going well on the other side of your door?"

[almosthonorable]

"Things are goin' well on my side of the door, thank you," he says, growing more serious as he studies Sunshine.

He lifts his free hand to gently brush his callused fingertips over a lock of Rae's hair — it's much shorter than he's ever seen it.

"I'd hope you could say the same."

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine chuckles, hesitant, and her smile falters a little. Her hair has grown out a few inches since it was at its shortest, and its waves are finally starting to shade her neck some. She has made her peace with most of her scars over the years, but the stares sometimes garnered by the burn scars that entirely encircle her neck (the scars still new, and the new skin over them still shiny) make her self-conscious. They're more noticeable than the likewise well-healed burn scars that mark her hands.

"Um... things are going better than they have in the past," she says, both diplomatic and truthful at the same time.

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

Night Lords, as the name might suggest, aren't usually ones for nice days. Or any days, given that. But Sahaal's made an exception to that rule, because a cool afternoon like this one is perfect for combat practice.

He's coming down the hill, battered ammunition crate in hand, the smell of propellant and gun oil wrapping him like a blanket, when he spots the man working on what looks like a rider's harness. Curious, he wanders over for a better look.

And maybe a conversation. It's been a long and quiet day so far.

"Afternoon. What have you got there?"

[almosthonorable]

Striking is one word for Ben's latest acquaintance.

Goddamn huge are two others.

"Afternoon," Ben echoes, tipping his head toward the tall, paper-pale fellow in greeting.

Over by the fence, Gabriel snorts in what might be acknowledgment.

"Gettin' my tack in order," he says, applying more saddle soap to the leather harness. "There's a lot less dust blowin' around here than on my side of the door."

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

Both are good descriptions for him. For his part, Sahaal's just as intrigued by the man in front of him. Friendly enough, but there's something in those eyes, the way he holds himself, that suggests something more.

Or perhaps the old Eighth Legion paranoia is just coming to the fore again.

"Ah." He's not going to admit he barely noticed the horse before it whinnied at him. "Where do you come from, then, that dust is such a problem for maintenance?"

Room for more?

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer, in his expensive dove-grey three-piece suit and lavender shirt, looks decidedly out of place as he strolls along the fence.

Not that he is adverse to the great outdoors at all. He truly isn't.
It's just- well, Dad did have a way with trees and bushes and natural light. And that's rather annoying.

He is delighted to see a cowboy and walks closer, all friendly smiles.

"Hello."
He sounds British.
He looks human.

The horse probably knows the truth.

ALWAYS <333

[almosthonorable]

Only the whites of Gabriel's eyes are visible.

He paws at the grass, flinging up clods of dirt, and rears with a high, panicked whinny before galloping across the field.

Beneath the sweat-stained brim of his hat, Ben quirks an eyebrow.

"Friend," he says to this dandy newcomer, "you spook every horse you meet?"

Re: ALWAYS <333

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer looks after the disappearing horse.
"Well," he says. "Not - always?" It turns into a sort of question at the end.

The thing is, he doesn't lie. And oftentimes, animals do tend to get a bit - cautious around him.

"They don't always go running off like that."

He looks at Ben. He doesn't look like he would be a threat to anyone. Except people who get easily taken with pretty faces and fancy clothes.

"It wasn't my intention. Should I help you get it back?"

You can offer them apples.
(That's just so cliché).

[boghadair]

Merida had been out curry-combing Angus when she hears the sound of the Dustbuster running. The incredibly alarming, loud sound.

It's loud enough to get her out of Angus' stall and moving in the direction of the sound. "What are you using there?" She's unacquainted with modern machinery, even though she's been at Bar for a good two years now.

[almosthonorable]

Ben powers down the Dustbuster.

"Howdy, miss," he says with a smile, tipping his head in greeting. "I hope I didn't disturb you — or your mount. This little vacuum makes a pretty good racket."

[boghadair]

Angus snorts slightly, but he stays steady. "Oh no, it takes a lot to startle Angus." She pats his neck. "I was just wondering what that thing you have does."

Machinery itself is a new concept to Merida, but she is pretty curious.

[cook_the_rude]

A gentleman in a light but posh summer suit wanders by, carrying a basket of freshly harvested herbs.

"Good afternoon," he says in a polite and accented voice, nodding both to Ben and Gabriel.