[It does him good to have a few minutes alone anyway. Not that he ever really needs or seeks out alone time, but he's also not normally with one person so constantly. It's a good sign that they tolerate each other so well the vast majority of the time. And he feels bad, just a little, for being short with her, but not enough to apologize. It is dumb to worry about a conversation that hasn't even happened, he figures.
Of course, it's no more than a few moments of being alone that he tries to change that - not by seeking out Chrissy, but by trying to wave over one of the men picking beans in that field. He gets a pause and a wary look - not like the look of a man afraid to approach for normal reasons, but rather, the look of a man looking through a shadow that might leap out at him at any second.]
Hey. D'you see me?
[Worth asking, but he doesn't get a response. Well, shit. Maybe he doesn't, or maybe the guy doesn't speak English, or maybe he's that terrified of being reprimanded if he's found talking to someone outside the farm. Man, he hopes it isn't that, just for how fucked up that is.
Well, whatever. They can fuck up a farm, they can tear down a fence, but Cruz is the one who will know if there's a route these people can flee down, or if there are people who can help them get far away.
So a few minutes later he strolls his way into the house, a half-burned cigarette in hand, and smiles down at Chrissy, then shrugs.]
Nah. Tried to talk to a guy but I dunno if he even knew what he was looking at. So fucking weird how inconsistent it is. Like, what is it that means some people see ghosts an' others can't? 'Course, he mighta just been freaked out someone was trying to talk to him.
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Of course, it's no more than a few moments of being alone that he tries to change that - not by seeking out Chrissy, but by trying to wave over one of the men picking beans in that field. He gets a pause and a wary look - not like the look of a man afraid to approach for normal reasons, but rather, the look of a man looking through a shadow that might leap out at him at any second.]
Hey. D'you see me?
[Worth asking, but he doesn't get a response. Well, shit. Maybe he doesn't, or maybe the guy doesn't speak English, or maybe he's that terrified of being reprimanded if he's found talking to someone outside the farm. Man, he hopes it isn't that, just for how fucked up that is.
Well, whatever. They can fuck up a farm, they can tear down a fence, but Cruz is the one who will know if there's a route these people can flee down, or if there are people who can help them get far away.
So a few minutes later he strolls his way into the house, a half-burned cigarette in hand, and smiles down at Chrissy, then shrugs.]
Nah. Tried to talk to a guy but I dunno if he even knew what he was looking at. So fucking weird how inconsistent it is. Like, what is it that means some people see ghosts an' others can't? 'Course, he mighta just been freaked out someone was trying to talk to him.