"Mn." It's an acknowledgement of Sam's statement. Higgs doesn't trust himself not to say something rude about it, and he doesn't want to. Not when this conversation with Sam is one of the first normal conversations he's had in over a year.
"Out West it took a long time for them to warm up to you."
"I noticed." The further West he got, the more hesitant people were about him. Some were downright hostile, at first. But dammit he'd felt the need to prove himself, just as much as he needed to connect the damned chiral network.
"I'm not sure if I can trust the people I thought were friends. At least I know where I stand, with you."
Higgs is silent for a long moment. "I suppose you do." It's odd to think about.
There's a lot involving Sam he's not sure he could explain. The walls of crazy just add to it, really. The one thing he's certain he can't explain at all, though, are the schematics. Likes, as valuable as they are, didn't see the correct choice as a parting gift.
The schematics, weapons capable of being filled with any number of bullets; both non-lethal and otherwise, seemed much more useful to him in the long days he'd spent designing the guns.
As crazy as Higgs is, he'd also been... kind, Sam supposes. In his own way. Giving those schematics as a parting gift had been nothing short of incredible. He can't imagine all the damage, non-lethal or otherwise, those guns could do.
And Higgs had let him into his home. Into his mind, really. Which is how he knows Higgs doesn't bear him any grudges. Sam isn't sure how to repay something like that.
Instead he holds up a stack of pizza boxes and asks, "Where does trash go?"
Higgs fiddles with his boxes for a moment before responding. "There's an incinerator out front. On your right as soon as you walk out the front door, before you get to the shelter entrance."
The floor plan for the shelter is so small, it should be incredibly easy to find it. "Sorry about the mess out there. I've got some generators and shit blocking it, but you should be able to access the control panel without too much trouble."
"Afraid your pizza boxes gonna go necro?" It's a stupid joke. Everyone has incinerators, up this way. It's just smart business, not leaving trash lying around. In the cities you can take your stuff to dumpsters and they'll incinerate for you but out here? You're on your own.
Sam takes the boxes Higgs is holding and heads up to go incinerate them. Muttering to himself about what a dumb joke he made.
The joke is so ridiculous it pulls a laugh from Higgs before he can stop himself. It's a genuine one, too, by how short and startled it is, even if he does straighten up abruptly in an attempt to make himself look a little more serious.
"I didn't know you had a sense of humor, Bridges."
Well, at least it made Higgs laugh. Sam smiles and ducks his head, the tips of his ears turning a little red.
"It's my best kept secret." Or at least, a secret between him and the security cameras in all the private rooms he stayed. Somewhere he's sure there's footage of him making faces in the mirror, or taking stupid selfies. Flexing for whoever watches the cameras. It relieves boredom for a few minutes, anyway.
"You got any other interesting secrets?" It's teasing more than a real question, friendly banter he's not even aware of doing.
"You've always struck me as the broody, serious type. Doesn't speak much at all unless there's a very good reason." Versus Higgs, who... well, when he talks he does talk a lot, but he's not exactly the chatty person he was under the Extinction Entity's influence.
Porters are often off in their own heads. Maybe that's why so many of them these days travel in small groups. It's less lonely that way, even if it does slow down deliveries. "I wouldn't know what questions to ask," he says with a shrug. He frowns right after, though. Maybe that's a little too harsh a way to put it. "What I mean is... I don't really... talk to folks much. I'm better at writing letters."
"Huh," Higgs says. It's filler, a noise indicating he's still present even if he's struggling to come up with something to talk about. "Well... you know what my favorite food is. So what's yours?"
It's an innocent question, as far as he's concerned. No way to have it turn into a conversation about something incredibly unpleasant.
"Most of the time, if I'm craving something, it's a really good piece of meat. Burger, steak, whatever. Something I can really sink my teeth into, you know?" It feels like a boring answer, but at least they're talking.
It may be a boring answer to Sam, but at the very least Higgs looks interested. "We could always order burgers, you know. Get a huge order out here. Peter Englert was orderin' food often enough no one would suspect anything. Well, I suppose it not bein' pizza might be a little odd but it ain't like most people are paying attention to that."
Higgs hadn't gone to great efforts to disguise himself at all, but it seemed like Bridges were a little too occupied to notice the obvious hints. "What do you have in that canteen you're always drinking from?"
For a second his brow furrows, wondering how Higgs knows about his canteen. But then he remembers what exactly is on the wall behind him and it clicks back into place. "Oh, uh. It's an energy drink. A Monster. Helps keep my stamina up.
And I wouldn't mind ordering burgers, some time. Even if you're more of a ham sort of guy."
Even when he's being friendly, the fact that Higgs had some.... problems is more than obvious. "Sounds like a strange thing to keep in there, if you ask me. Sugary drinks are a diuretic." Leave it to Higgs to know random facts like that.
But as for the food... "I ain't that picky about what I eat, to tell the truth. So it shouldn't be an issue."
"Can't say I have," Higgs admits. He doesn't refuse the can, though, taking it in his hand. "I've never seen any drink like this before. Nothin' like it out West."
He cracks open the can, takes a sip and pulls a face. "Christ, what the hell is in this?" But Higgs isn't the sort of person to waste food, so after a moment he takes another drink.
Sam has to laugh at that, shaking his head a little and reaching his hand out to take the can back. "I'll drink it, if you don't like it. It's definitely an acquired taste."
Higgs shakes his head, smiling a little as he pulls the can out of Sam's reach. "I ain't gonna waste food given to me." Sure, it's technically a drink, but his point remains.
Which isn't quite fair, given how much taller Higgs is than Sam. With his long goddamn arms. Sam isn't short, he's a perfectly fine height. Higgs is just huge. Like Heartman.
"Of course. I don't take kindly to folks who waste food."
He says it playfully, but there is a serious note to it. It's probably not much of a surprise that a man who was out on his own as a child grew up without much food at all. Maybe it helps explain how thin he is, even now.
"Well I promise I don't waste food, either." Which is why he was going to finish off the drink for Higgs. But Higgs is nothing if not stubborn, he's learned that much.
"'Course it was!" Higgs exclaims. "It would have been a crime to waste those ingredients. Especially considerin' they were all made fresh to order. Ain't nothing like hot pizza, you know. Probably my favorite dish."
...not much of a surprise, given the state of his shelter up until a couple minutes ago.
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"Out West it took a long time for them to warm up to you."
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"I'm not sure if I can trust the people I thought were friends. At least I know where I stand, with you."
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There's a lot involving Sam he's not sure he could explain. The walls of crazy just add to it, really. The one thing he's certain he can't explain at all, though, are the schematics. Likes, as valuable as they are, didn't see the correct choice as a parting gift.
The schematics, weapons capable of being filled with any number of bullets; both non-lethal and otherwise, seemed much more useful to him in the long days he'd spent designing the guns.
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And Higgs had let him into his home. Into his mind, really. Which is how he knows Higgs doesn't bear him any grudges. Sam isn't sure how to repay something like that.
Instead he holds up a stack of pizza boxes and asks, "Where does trash go?"
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The floor plan for the shelter is so small, it should be incredibly easy to find it. "Sorry about the mess out there. I've got some generators and shit blocking it, but you should be able to access the control panel without too much trouble."
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Sam takes the boxes Higgs is holding and heads up to go incinerate them. Muttering to himself about what a dumb joke he made.
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"I didn't know you had a sense of humor, Bridges."
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"It's my best kept secret." Or at least, a secret between him and the security cameras in all the private rooms he stayed. Somewhere he's sure there's footage of him making faces in the mirror, or taking stupid selfies. Flexing for whoever watches the cameras. It relieves boredom for a few minutes, anyway.
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"You've always struck me as the broody, serious type. Doesn't speak much at all unless there's a very good reason." Versus Higgs, who... well, when he talks he does talk a lot, but he's not exactly the chatty person he was under the Extinction Entity's influence.
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Sam shrugs and leans against the edge of the desk again. "You can ask me whatever. Like you said, I read your journal."
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Porters are often off in their own heads. Maybe that's why so many of them these days travel in small groups. It's less lonely that way, even if it does slow down deliveries. "I wouldn't know what questions to ask," he says with a shrug. He frowns right after, though. Maybe that's a little too harsh a way to put it. "What I mean is... I don't really... talk to folks much. I'm better at writing letters."
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What's something that I know about you, that you want to know about me?" he offers, by way of a potential conversation starter.
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It's an innocent question, as far as he's concerned. No way to have it turn into a conversation about something incredibly unpleasant.
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Higgs hadn't gone to great efforts to disguise himself at all, but it seemed like Bridges were a little too occupied to notice the obvious hints. "What do you have in that canteen you're always drinking from?"
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And I wouldn't mind ordering burgers, some time. Even if you're more of a ham sort of guy."
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But as for the food... "I ain't that picky about what I eat, to tell the truth. So it shouldn't be an issue."
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Not picky about what he eats. So the fancy ingredients had been just to poke at Sam a little. Amusing, in retrospect. Annoying at the time.
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He cracks open the can, takes a sip and pulls a face. "Christ, what the hell is in this?" But Higgs isn't the sort of person to waste food, so after a moment he takes another drink.
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"Even if you don't like the taste?"
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He says it playfully, but there is a serious note to it. It's probably not much of a surprise that a man who was out on his own as a child grew up without much food at all. Maybe it helps explain how thin he is, even now.
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"At least I know my pizza was put to good use."
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...not much of a surprise, given the state of his shelter up until a couple minutes ago.
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