The scent of death that permeated Beacon, should have been unsettling but for Scarlett? It was familiar to the point where it bordered on comforting. An unpleasant yet accepted reminder of home: The death and decay that clung to the earth when the world went to shit. When there were no more medical examiners to carry away and dispose of the bodies. When there were no more city workers to cart off the trash and dump it into a landfill.
Her world may not have been a place of safety or warmth, but it was familiar and there was comfort to be found in the known. It was the unknown that set Scarlett on edge, like why the her door to her room was now open. What it was that lurked out of her sight and just how ready for a fight did she need to be. She and Tinman might be in a strangely good place now, but she still knew that he couldn't necessarily control what he did during those 'memory malfunctions' and as much as she knew she didn't want to have to hurt him - she'd rather avoid dying if she could help it.
Still when she enters, her hand is wrapped around the grip of her sword. Scarlett's dark gaze sweeping the room in search of a threat. The grip on her sword loosens the moment she lays eyes on him, despite the gun aimed directly at her face. Her exasperation at them always doing this not quite taking hold once she takes in his appearance. Memory Malfunction. Those two words like the prick of a thorn. The woman knowing that this could get messy and yet, she really didn't want to fight him.
She watches as the barrel lowers, her own hand gently dropping down to her side and she perhaps hadn't realized how little they made eye contact, until his light blue eyes connect with hers. She can't help the slight twitch of her mouth at that one, seemingly insignificant word. Not an amused smile, but something that holds just a flicker of warmth in it.
"Yeah." Her voice steady as she manages something that resembles a half smile. "Safe." Confirming it for him, but not immediately closing the distance so as not to make him change his mind about that. "Plus you wouldn't shoot me anyway."
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Her world may not have been a place of safety or warmth, but it was familiar and there was comfort to be found in the known. It was the unknown that set Scarlett on edge, like why the her door to her room was now open. What it was that lurked out of her sight and just how ready for a fight did she need to be. She and Tinman might be in a strangely good place now, but she still knew that he couldn't necessarily control what he did during those 'memory malfunctions' and as much as she knew she didn't want to have to hurt him - she'd rather avoid dying if she could help it.
Still when she enters, her hand is wrapped around the grip of her sword. Scarlett's dark gaze sweeping the room in search of a threat. The grip on her sword loosens the moment she lays eyes on him, despite the gun aimed directly at her face. Her exasperation at them always doing this not quite taking hold once she takes in his appearance. Memory Malfunction. Those two words like the prick of a thorn. The woman knowing that this could get messy and yet, she really didn't want to fight him.
She watches as the barrel lowers, her own hand gently dropping down to her side and she perhaps hadn't realized how little they made eye contact, until his light blue eyes connect with hers. She can't help the slight twitch of her mouth at that one, seemingly insignificant word. Not an amused smile, but something that holds just a flicker of warmth in it.
"Yeah." Her voice steady as she manages something that resembles a half smile. "Safe." Confirming it for him, but not immediately closing the distance so as not to make him change his mind about that. "Plus you wouldn't shoot me anyway."