Voicetesting; Potential Spoilers in Comments

[sheriffcarl]

No Walkers?

[A moment of quiet contemplation passes as Carl critically considers some question previously posed. Surviving anywhere that doesn't sport a healthy population of flesh eating, undead corpses hardly seems like survival at all. However, that stipulation doesn't come without its own cons to weigh against that one single pro.

He adjusts his hat and lets out a soft grunt.]

Dad might not be around, though. Or the others.

[The young boy — more a man by now, if we're being honest — understands that much. And yet, a moment later, he nods with certainty.]

But...I can do that. I can handle myself. You don't have to worry about me.

Comments

[thelastgunslinger]

[Roland does not want to be here. He does not want to say anything. This young man just makes him long for Jake. Especially given his mun's excitement and...

The Clint Eastwood looking cowboy lowers his gaze.]


It seems to be in their nature to worry. [long beat] You are kind to try and ease their pain.

[sheriffcarl]

[He doesn't recognize this guy, but he gets the look. It's not hard to guess that loss is a pretty heavy theme around these parts. Carl smiles slightly, like he's aiming for easement.]

They've got enough to worry about. We all do.

[thelastgunslinger]

It seems to be their nature t'be Ka-mais. Prisoners to the concept that there are other worlds then theirs. [Ours. His.]

Thinking of that I suppose it's easy to at least sympathize with them. Mr....

[He might get your look too Carl. Probably why he's just going to refer to you as a man.]

[sheriffcarl]

[He almost isn't sure how to answer, first name or last name (or both), but then it all sort of clicks into place and he touches his hat in greeting.]

Grimes. You?

[thelastgunslinger]

[Roland dips his own hat in return with what amounts to a warm smile for him.] Long life for your crop Mr. Grimes.

[That last part is a puzzle. Roland has to think, most people just called him gunslinger - those guns on his hips were rare. But this boy had an air about him that reminded him of Gilead in it's old days and so.]

Roland of Gilead. [The slightest hint of unease] ...That is the correct greeting for this world yes?

[sheriffcarl]

[He shrugs.]

It works. [And a squint, but it's not at all the suspicious kind, more the curious kind.] Where's Gilead?

[thelastgunslinger]

[Roland smiles at that. It's a distant smile full of memory.] Do you Ken the bible lad? Canaan specifically?

[sheriffcarl]

[He shakes his head, mostly because he doesn't understand. But the Bible part sticks out and he guesses that's some of the reason why.]

[thelastgunslinger]

[He shrugs] Land of milk and honey. In my world, Gilead was the seat of Canaan in the Barony. We grew grapes, not as big as wheel barrels but it came close.

[pause] I'm kidding.

[sheriffcarl]

[Okay, so maybe he's a little too wide-eyed before Roland clues him in, and then he laughs.]

I was gonna say, that'd be really useful where I come from. A grape a day.

[thelastgunslinger]

Tough times? [Conversationally. No sympathy. Everybody has tough times.

Well, maybe a little sympathy in the way Roland examines his hands.]

[sheriffcarl]

[It's cool, Roland, no sympathy necessarily — you're both on the same wavelength here.]

Sometimes. Most times. We farm some.

[thelastgunslinger]

...Within your town? Barony?

[He settles back in, reaching for his tobacco to roll a cigarette...before he stops]

Do you mind if I smoke?

[sheriffcarl]

[He shakes his head in response and watches with a distant curiosity; he's never seen anyone hand roll a cigarette before, and the number of people in his world able to do that is probably pretty low.]

In our camp. Peas and lettuce and carrots. [tentatively] We haven't harvested yet — it's our first try.

[thelastgunslinger]

[Woah. It's been a long time since the older man's seen lettuce.]

I can remember my father's cook saying there was nothing harder to come by then good lettuce. It was one of my mother's favorite dishes - have you any of those round red...

[He gestures with his hands making a vague tomato shape] they're red. He called them tomates. Seems that lettuce isn't lettuce without them.

[Roland finishes the cigarette with an almost lazy look before pulling out a match and lighting it.]

I don't envy you. It's near harvesting time in my world.

[sheriffcarl]

[It's near harvesting time in Carl's world, too. Too bad he probably won't get much of a chance to pluck those vegetables from that hard-worked earth.]

My dad just brought back some tomatoes, but we can't plant them yet. I think you have to start them in a little pot of soil first.

[This is all second-hand information, of course, as Carl's pursuits before the outbreak had little to do with gardening.]

Are grapes easy to grow? We could use some fruit that's easy to grow.

[thelastgunslinger]

Shame. Been living off corn and beans for years now, but of course the world's moved on.

[He considers that for a moment, tapping his cigarette on his knee before inhaling deep.]

You'd need either a vine or some seeds. Healthy plants are needed first. You got any hills on your land son?

[sheriffcarl]

No, it's flat. Marshy outside the fences. [Which is something to be considered in Georgia, as you're just as apt to sink into the mud and sprout roots yourself as anything else that grows.]

Do you grow anything else?

[thelastgunslinger]

Grapes grow best on a hillside son. I'm sorry.

You might be able to manage apples though. Trees, nice marshy ground. I've no seeds. I'm sorry for that but you might be able to find some.

[sheriffcarl]

[He tries not to be too deflated by the realization that there probably aren't enough hills for grapes. Such is life, no? He's not so sure about the apples, either.]

I don't think we have enough time to grow trees. What about strawberries and blackberries? They grow on the ground.

[You are now his farm-related go-to, Roland, even if he can't take the knowledge back with him.]

[thelastgunslinger]

[Roland is going to stare] I'm very sorry, I don't ken strawberries.

[blackberries however...] It fades son. I'm so sorry about that. I haven't had a blackberry in ...years.

[sheriffcarl]

[Carl nods. While he doesn't quite get the reasoning behind a land of plenty not having all the plenty that can be mentioned, but he doesn't bother bringing up that thought.]

Did something happen to your home?

[thelastgunslinger]

[Did something happen.

Roland finishes his cigarette, stubbing it out before he shrugs] The world moved on.

[While many people might fight against that thought, Roland...Roland understood it.]

...Gilead though. There was a war. A revolution. Do you Ke-know about revolutions?

[sheriffcarl]

Yeah, I do. [And then, less certain.] Some. A little bit.

[He can think of the American Revolution, the French Revolution, and then other kinds of things marked as revolutions less officially, but he doesn't know what to imagine for Gilead.]

Was it over land? [He's said it was a land of plenty, after all.]

[thelastgunslinger]

[Roland folds his hands] ...Over land and the rules that were set over them by the line of Eld and the gunslingers. [It's like poetry then. Something changes in his features and he looks almost...noble. Like a face on a dollar bill. Like a statue of a king] And out of the mists came Arthur Eld with Excalibur in his hands and his loyal knights...

[The past is waved away] They didn't like the rule imposed upon them and wanted to make their own governments. It doesn't matter anyway. It came to no good end for either. Fools love a fool as my father used to say and even if given power, there are few who would do right by it.