( I N D U R A T I Z E)

“Nah,” She chuckled, shifting her weight above her elbows, which rested on the bar counter top. “That’s some deep, second date shit.” A smartass response to an obviously rhetorical statement. The sound of her inhale on the cigarette was sharp, smoke slowly billowing from the corners of her mouth. “My kind of girl.” She laughed. “That’s pretty fucking much all we can ask for anymore. I swear to fuckin’ Beelzebub.” With a dwindling ration of vices, Nadja was sure that even Nazlie’s supplier would soon turn to moonshine before too long. “Well, Carly–where the fuck have you been if not here?”

“Already a second date? My – I knew I was good but that good?” She teased back, a lazy smirk lifting to her features as her gaze danced over the woman. She was exotic, unlike anyone Carly had ever seen with a post-apocalyptic style to boot. She appreciated a woman who didn’t try to be witty but that it came naturally to them. When Nadja leaned against the bar with her elbows, it allowed Carly to get comfortable within her bar stool as well, her back finding comfort against the railing. Truthfully, Los Abuelos was a place of comfort. Most bars had a similarity to all bars somehow, didn’t they? Back when she still lived with her family, they all opted for the same pub; chipped bar stools, stained and sticky wood from leftover beer that was never cleaned at the end of the night. It was smelly and rank and the bar patrons weren’t any better; it felt like HOME, almost, as sad as that was. There was a culture to it.

“Swearing on a demon? You’re hardcore, huh?” They were coming out like fire; quips and teases that were too effortless when falling from her lips. When meeting someone who can take a joke, it seemed like all Carly could do. Hopefully, the girl wasn’t too uptight to take a few teases, not that she seemed that way. She took a glance around the bar at the others there and it was obvious nobody was expecting cocktails crafted by a fucking mixologist; beers & whiskey seemed to be what’s on the menu. “I haven’t been here all that long. A few months now, I think. I started out in Las Vegas and slowly just traveled up North for a few years before I got here.” She nodded, “What about you? Been here long?”

Sometimes Carly wondered about the other societies out there. Surely, there had to be loads of others, right? Maybe not the same size of Cheyenne but at least groups of twenty or thirty, all coexisting together. She hoped it were true; namely because the thought of her siblings living was enough to try and hope they might be out there. Unfortunately for Carly though, she wasn’t a woman that held a lot of hope. Disappointment was not something she liked to feel, hating the thought of extending herself only to have it slap her in the face when it didn’t work out. It was pride, most likely, and maybe an avoidance to deal with reality. Fuck, she’d never know. Now, she was just thankful for the miracle of finding Kit. It was more than she’d ever expect to find.

Carly bit on the inside of her cheek at his own disappointment, although she was surprised when he mentioned how long ago he had last seen her. It she was correct, it was almost four years ago. She could feel the dread bubbling in the pit of her belly; this little girl was likely not alive. If the reports were anything like they sounded, New York was one of the worst places to be in. “I’m sorry.” Carly shook her head, gazing at him only momentarily before her gaze flickered somewhere else. “There’s loads of people, though, so you never know.” God, that sounded hopeful and she could feel it tasting foreign leaving her mouth. “When did you get here?”

Ashley was nodding, glancing around, slightly abashed. “Yeah. It’s not too bad, right? How about your half?” She questioned, because if Carly needed something to help get by, Ashley would most definitely try to help out. It was the least she could do. Plus, she had a certain appreciation for people who went out of their way to talk to her. It felt like an olive branch being extended, and Ashley was genuinely flattered by the sentiment. “Maybe you could stay for dinner or something?” Ashley offered, a slight hint of hopefulness to her voice. “Only if you want, of course. But the more, the merrier, is what i always say!”

Friendly was not necessarily the best word to describe her. However, some people got to see other sides to Carly. For most, Carly was standoffish and crude; she was not everyone’s cup of tea. She didn’t trust or crave friendships like normal people did and that was just simply because of the way she grew up. It didn’t mean she wasn’t charming – oh no, Carly could charm the pants off of mostly anyone but her ability to feel connection to people proved tough. For Ashley, she got to see a softer side to Carly. For one, Ashley was sweet and had a likable quirkiness to her and, two, she met her through Kit. With Kit being Carly’s favorite person in the world ( and as much as she would never admit it, she idolized him ), she always tended to be kinder to those that Kit associated with. “Eh,” Carly shrugged lazily, eyes still wandering over the place. She had only been here a few times, for both the trading and for the fact that the leader was a bit of an eye piece. “Definitely not like this. But I live in this little neighborhood, kinda. This guy sorta build the place up so it’s not too bad. Definitely better than some of the other rogues out there living in squander.” She smirked, leaning her body against one the huge pillars in the main meeting area. She imagined the leader got a pretty big ego hard-on if he held meetings around here.

Carly is surprised by the invitation. “Wow. A big fancy dinner at a fancy palace.” She teased, although there are traces of a genuine smile that lifts to the corners of her mouth. “I’m not sure if that hot leader guy will say yes but I’m down to just hang around for a little. Wanna give me the inside scoop? The grand tour?”

Instead of just leaving the Capitol after a trading meeting, Carly headed towards her, offering a quick smile. “Hey. So, this is how the other half lives, huh?” Carly smirked, brows raised as she looked around herself. Not being a part of a camp was her choice and one she didn’t regret but she had to admit certain camps held a certain ‘fancier’ air about them.

“I’ve found that strangers are less dangerous than the people we love.” People leave when you fall in love them. Strangers have the fucking decency and good goddamn sense to leave first. A far off stare burned a cigarette sized hole in the wall on the opposite end of the bar, before Nadja smirked at her own, dark private joke and passed the comment off with a huff and a growing grin–ashing her cigarette in an old ashtray she’d found that read ‘cowboy butts drive me nuts’ which she’d found amusing and kept, wishing she had Nazlie back to share the humor with. “It’s Nadja, but don’t fuckin’ rat me out if your drink tastes like shit.” Placing the cigarette back between her lips, she extended a hand in introduction. “And who the fuck are you?” The grin, despite the cigarette, was beginning to look coy.

-- “I’ve found that strangers are less dangerous than the people we love.”

Hah. A snort escaped Carly; wasn’t that the fucking truth? Actually, that’d make a great tombstone engraving. For Carly, that was her mother. A once beautiful woman with sunken in facial features, scrawny limbs and a vile tongue. An absent father and a slew of disgusting men coming in and out of the house at all hours didn’t leave Carly with the greatest of hopes for civilization. How the Veatch siblings even turned out to be half decent was a fucking mystery to them all. They were astoundingly somewhat grounded for what they were raised in, although they still had plenty of baggage. Her mother’s band of suitors left Carly disgusted with most men and left her with a shattered sense of trust. Carly would look for anything to run away from getting to know people. Strangers could never leave the impact that her mother left on her and all her siblings; then again, now Carly would never let someone hurt her again. “Tell me ‘bout it.” It were the only words she let linger in the air, not wishing to further make a point of it. Obviously, this girl had someone just the same.

“Taste is subjective. Does it get me drunk? That’s all I give a shit about.” –Impeccable taste was not a luxury granted to her. As long as it served its purpose, Carly didn’t care. She reached back to the hand extended to her, giving a firm shake as she nodded at the woman. “Carly. A first time customer.” 

Now in the corner part of the bar, she eyed the doors as bodies came in and out. With the threat of walkers constantly plaguing them all, here it was easy to forget the dangers that lay out there. When a man passed her by, she nodded to the empty seat beside her. “You can have that seat if you want. I don’t bite.” Carly smirked, her hand seemingly attached to the drink in her hand.

There’s a sort of dance between them; eyes gazing over the other constantly, as if waiting for a strike. Maybe it was because of the nature in which they met – more aggression and venom – but it had managed to somehow dissipate to this odd circling of quips and jabs. Carly didn’t mind it, of course, she’d be the first to admit she liked a little back and forth of sarcastic quips. She hasn’t fully decided if he was safe but if he hadn’t struck yet, she supposed that was half the battle. At his question, she shook her head, hair falling around her face. “Nah. I have the warning ‘I don’t play well with others’.” She smirked, nodding ahead of herself. “So, where were you heading before you almost killed me?”