A good chunk of the pictures are already off the wall, but the insane scrawlings of a man captured by the Extinction Entity don't exactly come off with soap and water. He's not sure what to say in response to Sam, so he's quiet for a moment. "Sure, I don't have any complaints about that. Might help it look less like a cave."
Not that any shelter doesn't look cavernous. If it weren't for the climate control, the small shelter would be almost unbearably cold.
"Make it a little more like a home." It's nice, that Higgs had been trying to clean off the walls a little. Sam knows it's not -- him. That it was Amelie's influence that had made him so obsessed. Knows because that same influence had driven him to travel thousands of miles, mostly on foot, to set up her network.
He still doesn't like thinking about it. What they went through because of her.
"I was thinking if we put all the books together in one or two cabinets, there would be plenty of cabinet space to have a little pantry, you know? Some canned and jarred things, some bread maybe. We could get a hot plate to cook things on. One of those little fridges, to keep some fresh things like milk or eggs. Really make this place useable." The more he plans, the less time he has to think about everything before this.
Higgs takes a quick look around the room, just for something to do as he's thinking about what to say. "Sure," he says easily. Maybe he's too quick to agree, but he doesn't think Sam is wrong. The shelter is still goddamn small, but living like a person in it doesn't sound so bad.
"Never needed a fridge before, even when I was workin' as a porter. Not much need when you're never home, after all."
"I haven't had a fridge since I was a kid, yeah. I've just been wandering from distro station to distro station and using their shit there. But if we're staying here..." He spreads his hands in a well there you go sort of gesture.
"So... okay. How many tables do you want to keep?"
"No real need for 'em when you're on the move," Higgs agrees. They're very much not on the move at the moment. If he's being honest, he doesn't have much desire to leave in... well. No time soon at the very least.
As for the tables, he frowns thoughtfully. "Probably only need one. Just in case we need it for somethin'."
"Okay, one table. We'll take the others up to the incinerator, and then build the beds?" It feels good to have a long term plan, instead of just living from moment to moment. Settling down for a while. It feels... nice. To have a place to stay. A place to make into something like a home.
"Once we get some of the tables out of the way and rearrange a little, we can make it work. You're twice the size of that cot you've been sleeping on." And the concrete is starting to make Sam's back seize up. Neither of them are as young as they were when they started as porters, and their bodies are starting to wear down. Wear out. Can't handle shit as much as they used to be able to.
Lou's doing well. She's stopped wailing whenever Higgs gets close to her, which Sam is thankful for. He can't blame her for her distrust of the man, and it's hard to explain to a baby that they don't have much choice right now.
Anyway.
Sam grabs one of the tables and starts tugging it towards the door. "Gimme a hand?"
...Yeah, he is, isn't he? Though he still finds it perfectly comfortable. He can't really complain.
It ain't like there's room for two beds, a crib, and furniture.
But clean up the place to make it more livable? Sure, he can do that. He nods at Sam, grabbing at the other end of the table. "A shame all this is fabricated. People used to be able to build their own furniture, a long time ago."
The shelter is definitely small, and Sam's hoping that the two beds will even fit, with the crib. One against either wall, maybe? It'll be pretty jammed, but they can just -- sit on the beds when they're not moving around. Or something. They'll figure it out.
"Yeah? I think I read something like that. A guy I worked with was telling me about stuff he remembered from when he was a kid, before the Death Stranding. People used to travel. Just for fun, all around the country. To different countries, too." While they talk, he helps move the table up to the incinerator, glancing over his shoulder now and again to make sure he doesn't hit anything. Seems a shame to burn it, but they could always order a new table, he guesses.
"It's hard to believe," Higgs murmurs. Even though he's read about it, or, hell, watched movies showing it off.
"Kinda hard to believe people used to above ground, too."
At least they don't have scarcity problems that used to plague people pre-Stranding. Of course, that's because there's hardly any people living in the country, but it's probably best not to think too hard about that sort of thing. "It's still gonna get pretty cold in here, even with heat on. Maybe I should get us a rug or something."
"You know?" Sam says, flipping the table upside down and kicking at a leg until it comes off, tossing the leg into the incinerator. "That actually sounds pretty good. Get a little insulation."
He doesn't want to think too hard about it. How all the things they're doing are going towards make this place not just livable, but a home. "I was thinking maybe a new coat of paint? Cover up some of the leftover markings on the wall."
"Course," Higgs says with the ghost of a smile. "You can pick out the color. Never did anything like that with the place." Because there wasn't a point. But maybe there's a bit more reason to make the tiny place look like a home.
It's... hm. "I've never had much opinion on color or things like that, so if you're got a strong opinion, you can be the one doin' the picking out."
"Something not white or grey. I've had enough of that from distro stations. I don't know if I have a strong opinion, other than that."
As they break the table down, he thinks on it a bit more. Thinks of watching the sky from under a try. Or at night, pointing out the stars to Lou. Maybe... "Maybe a blue?"
Higgs laughs a little. "That clinical shit gets old, doesn't it?" Not that he's ever spent much time in a Bridges-created shelter. Never trusted them, even before he'd gone and become a terrorist.
"Blue sounds nice," he adds with another one of those tiny little smiles.
Sam's starting to get used to those little smiles. Starting to like them, even. They make something coil warmly at the centre of his chest, and he's not really sure how to deal with that.
Higgs laughs a little. "That clinical shit gets old, doesn't it?" Not that he's ever spent much time in a Bridges facility. He knows enough to know that the makeshift shelters especially all look the same, and feature empty walls.
"Sky blue it is." Even if they can't get outside very often, then they can at least have some sky in the bunker with them.
Once the tables are taken care of, Sam reaches out to pat Higgs on the shoulder, but lets his hand drop at the last minute. He's never had a reaction when Higgs touched him, and he has no idea why that is. Only that it never burned like it does with everyone else.
Truthfully, the bunker had basically not changed at all from whenever it was originally constructed. That they're changing it is... certainly something. So long as he can think of making it someplace where a child should actually be raised, unlike the horrific place he spent his early life.
And then Sam goes and... asks him that question. He freezes, face a little pink. "Um, sure. It'll— it'll be a way to save space up a bit, huh?"
It's absolutely not the reaction you'd expect from someone who isn't interested at all, and Higgs isn't kind of man who lies.
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Not that any shelter doesn't look cavernous. If it weren't for the climate control, the small shelter would be almost unbearably cold.
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He still doesn't like thinking about it. What they went through because of her.
"I was thinking if we put all the books together in one or two cabinets, there would be plenty of cabinet space to have a little pantry, you know? Some canned and jarred things, some bread maybe. We could get a hot plate to cook things on. One of those little fridges, to keep some fresh things like milk or eggs. Really make this place useable." The more he plans, the less time he has to think about everything before this.
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"Never needed a fridge before, even when I was workin' as a porter. Not much need when you're never home, after all."
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"So... okay. How many tables do you want to keep?"
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As for the tables, he frowns thoughtfully. "Probably only need one. Just in case we need it for somethin'."
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He's never lived a life like this before, though he knows Sam did, a long time ago. "Yeah, sure. We can squeeze them in here somewhere, I'm sure."
It even seems like the baby is doing as well as she can. Never underestimate a child with DOOMS.
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Lou's doing well. She's stopped wailing whenever Higgs gets close to her, which Sam is thankful for. He can't blame her for her distrust of the man, and it's hard to explain to a baby that they don't have much choice right now.
Anyway.
Sam grabs one of the tables and starts tugging it towards the door. "Gimme a hand?"
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...Yeah, he is, isn't he? Though he still finds it perfectly comfortable. He can't really complain.
It ain't like there's room for two beds, a crib, and furniture.
But clean up the place to make it more livable? Sure, he can do that. He nods at Sam, grabbing at the other end of the table. "A shame all this is fabricated. People used to be able to build their own furniture, a long time ago."
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"Yeah? I think I read something like that. A guy I worked with was telling me about stuff he remembered from when he was a kid, before the Death Stranding. People used to travel. Just for fun, all around the country. To different countries, too." While they talk, he helps move the table up to the incinerator, glancing over his shoulder now and again to make sure he doesn't hit anything. Seems a shame to burn it, but they could always order a new table, he guesses.
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"Kinda hard to believe people used to above ground, too."
At least they don't have scarcity problems that used to plague people pre-Stranding. Of course, that's because there's hardly any people living in the country, but it's probably best not to think too hard about that sort of thing. "It's still gonna get pretty cold in here, even with heat on. Maybe I should get us a rug or something."
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He doesn't want to think too hard about it. How all the things they're doing are going towards make this place not just livable, but a home. "I was thinking maybe a new coat of paint? Cover up some of the leftover markings on the wall."
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It's... hm. "I've never had much opinion on color or things like that, so if you're got a strong opinion, you can be the one doin' the picking out."
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As they break the table down, he thinks on it a bit more. Thinks of watching the sky from under a try. Or at night, pointing out the stars to Lou. Maybe... "Maybe a blue?"
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"Blue sounds nice," he adds with another one of those tiny little smiles.
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"Okay. Okay, we'll go blue. Like a sky blue?"
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"Blue works just fine for me."
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Once the tables are taken care of, Sam reaches out to pat Higgs on the shoulder, but lets his hand drop at the last minute. He's never had a reaction when Higgs touched him, and he has no idea why that is. Only that it never burned like it does with everyone else.
"Should we go put the beds together?"
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Truthfully, the bunker had basically not changed at all from whenever it was originally constructed. That they're changing it is... certainly something. So long as he can think of making it someplace where a child should actually be raised, unlike the horrific place he spent his early life.
And then Sam goes and... asks him that question. He freezes, face a little pink. "Um, sure. It'll— it'll be a way to save space up a bit, huh?"
It's absolutely not the reaction you'd expect from someone who isn't interested at all, and Higgs isn't kind of man who lies.