Bathroom Confessions


magnes_icon.gif sable_icon.gif

Scene Title Bathroom Confessions
Synopsis A worse-for-wear Sable calls on Magnes to learn about the content of his vision.
Date June 29, 2010

Gun Hill

Magnes' apartment.

Well, Sable has certainly looked better.

Had we caught her just an hour earlier, the same could be said of her smell. She shambled through the door in the late wee hours, a veritable miasma of liquor and vomit stench hovering around her diminutive frame, her already pale skin even paler, save for the faint greenness of its tinge. Bags under her eyes, selfsame eyes squinted against the faintest glimmer of light, the girl has obviously had a rough night.

But a shower and a tooth brushing have taken care of the scent issue, as well as a change of clothes, and a very light breakfast combined with aspirin swiped from the clinic has improved many of her other depressed features and qualities. That said, she has definitely looked better. But Magnes is the person around whom she feels least self-conscious in all the world, and it's Magnes' door that she knocks upon, head still throbbing. And, for some reason, she has a handheld digital camera in her hand. That's new.

Magnes, on the other hand, is looking a bit better than he has been. His main problem lately has been fatigue, and he's been getting much better every day. He opens the door, up and walking now, for the most part, then ushers her in as he heads over to the couch. "What's wrong, Sable?"

The yellow eyed girl gives Magnes a smile as he opens the door and heads over to the couch as well, nesting in the corner formed by back and arm, and huddling against herself a bit. "Hungover some," is her answers, which is not a lie so much as a massive understatement. She's hungover a lot. She lifts the camera and gives it a little wave. "Got a project I gotta start on, figured I'd start with you, seein' as I ain't shy when speakin' t' you." That she's shy at all is a point that could be contested, but this is the explanation she gives.

"What is it? Some sort of music documentary?" Magnes always assumes music when it comes to Sable, lifting his knee up on the couch to watch her curiously. "Go ahead, I'm up for anything if it'll help you with something."

"Naw," Sable says. She doesn't shake her head. That would probably hurt. "Just a favor sorta thing. I'm takin', like, recordin's of what people saw when everyone conked out a while back. Y' remember?" It'd be a little hard to forget. She starts to fiddle with the camera, "Not entirely sure 'bout this fuckin' thing. But I think…" the lens gives a little twist as the device comes to life, "Uh… I think that worked. 'n' I push this here button," she taps it with her thumb, "T' start. So… uh… yeah. Tell me when yer ready, 'n', like, I'll record whatever y' say."

"I don't think that's a good idea." Magnes' mood goes from casual and friendly, to a bit more serious, turning his gaze away from her and to the turned off TV. "I'd rather no one know what I saw, until I know for sure if this is really some psychic thing…"

Sable peers at Magnes for a long moment. During this moment, there is a short struggle. Two forces, her aggressive curiosity and her respect for Magnes' privacy, do battle. Normally, in the initial bout, this would be no contest. Sable would browbeat Magnes until he put his foot down, and even then she might stay at him. But she is tired, and in pain. And she's made some decisions that she wants to try and live by. So instead of the reply she'd normally make, she instead says: "Y' sure? It'd mean a whole fuckin' lot t' me if y' could gimme somethin'. It's, like, somethin' Colette asked f'r. Awful important t' her. If y' ain't gonna say, then I ain't gonna try 'n' make you, not f'r one second. But…" she toggles the switch on the camera, causing the lens to retreat behind its cover, "If it's just you 'n' me, boy, I'd fuckin' hope y'd know I'm safe t' speak to, without fear that I'll tell a soul."

"Yeah, if it's just you and me…" Magnes looks to the television, then stands up and reaches for her hand. "Leave the camera, and your phone if you've got one. Come on." He tries to tug her toward the bathroom, the one place in the house without digital electronics.

Sable quickly ditches both devices Magnes forbids, without hesitation or question. She'd have done it anytime before, but she'd likely have given him a hard time about it. Now, after Magnes' insane personal sacrifice and in the shadow of her post-binge weariness, she doesn't even make performative protest. She takes his hand, letting him help her to her feet, and teeters into the bathroom with him.

Magnes closes and locks the bathroom door behind him, then turns on the shower as steam starts to rise, and he sits on the closed toilet. "You know Delilah? Well, the baby's father… I shoot him. I don't know why, but, I walk into his house, and I shoot him…"

Sable gives the whole setup a somewhat skeptical look. What are they, in the Mafia. But his news is serious… right? Shooting people is a big deal, even if Sable's sort of unclear as to the nature of the person Magnes is shooting. Sable sets her back against the closed door and slides down into a sit, hands dangling between her legs. "No, hon," she drawls, "Never heard of her," she cracks a faint smile, indicating that this is a joke, just not necessarily a good one. The smile fades. Serious business time. "Figurin' as most are that this is shit that has yet t' come 'n' all… any idea why y'd want t' go after this S.O.B. down the line?"

"It doesn't make any sense, I mean, other than knocking up the girl who taught me nearly everything I need to know about how women work, I don't think I'd shoot him over it." Magnes shakes his head, hunching over in deep thought with his arms resting over his knees. "Don't tell anyone."

"I'm guessin', then, that y' don't want what y' saw t' come about? 'nless there's some awful good reason f'r it that'll, like, reveal itself in th' time t' come?" Sable asks. She gives a derisive snort at Magnes' request, refusing to dignify it even with a confirmation. Who does he think she is?

"There just can't be a reason I'd walk in and kill him like that. But from the way I was talking in the vision, it's like I was getting revenge for someone, a woman I think." Magnes shrugs helplessly, not having the slightest clue. "You're a great leader, you know that?"

Sable's brow arches at this particular observation. "'n' a knight, too, if I my memory don't fail me in just a day's time," she adds, smiling again, still faint, "Thanks f'r sayin' so, though I dunno whatall crazy goddamn reason y' have f'r thinkin' so, seein' as I seem poor enough at even settin' m'self in a proper direction." She closes her eyes. "Don't do it," she says, after a moment's pause, "When time comes 'round, don't do it. Throw away y'r weapons. Make love, hon, not war."

"Yeah, I mean, if I know I'll do it, I just have to not do it, can't be that hard. I mean, I can't imagine Teo would kill someone I'd get revenge for anyone…" Magnes shrugs, not even remotely able to wrap his head around it. He knows some bad people, but shoot for them?

"Now, I ain't precisely the expert on all this sorta thing," Sable says, squinting at Magnes through the steam that is pouring from the running shower. It's nice, actually. It makes her feel a bit better. Her stomach feels more settled, and her mind maybe little clearer. Her hands lace together before her as she hunches forward a bit, shoulders leaving the support of the bathroom door. "But I've shot the shit with fair Tamara a bit, 'n' I'm gettin' a sort of sense 'bout how all this works, mebbe. 't least I hope. 'n' I figure, there's gonna be, like, one crucial fuckin' moment where y' get to really properly figure if y'll do it 'r not, 'n' I figure, seein' as y' saw what y' saw, yer likely gonna, when that time comes, really fuckin' want t' do what y' saw yerself doin'. So I figure it'll be real fuckin' hard. You just gotta remember that yer a slave t' yer shit destiny 'nless y' make the right choice when th' time comes. Don't think it's gonna be easy. That's a sure way, I figure, t' makin' it come about."

"It's like some crazy novel. You see the future, you don't think you could ever do it, then you find out your best friend orchestrated everything bad in your life and they're laughing at you about it because they're revealing their evil side." Magnes sits back against the toilet, groaning slightly. "I don't know Teo too well, but I don't feel like he'd be some evil person."

"Mebbe it ain't evil that he's guilty of," Sable says, giving a small shrug, "I've wanted t' hurt plenty of folks that weren't necessarily what y'd call evil. I mean, shootin's pretty fuckin' extreme, but I dunno. Never had a gun on hand when I was real pissed. Didja feel pissed, durin' what y' saw? Or didja feel cold, like you meant the harm you were after?"

"Hurt, angry, like I got a bombshell dropped on me or something, I think. I felt kind of like I did when I heard Gabriel tried to hurt Claire. I was pissed, and calculating what I was doing, I was like… in complete revenge mood. I tend to get that way…" Magnes doesn't sound proud of it, but it's one of those things he only tells Sable.

And Sable understands. "I fuckin' know that…" she says, grimly, "I don't even fuckin' think 'bout it. 'r I don't know I'm thinkin' 'bout it. Lookin' back, though… moments I know I meant t' say just th' thing t' hurt someone, bad as I could," a pause, "I'm tryin' t' mend this, though it feels tied up with much 'f what y' might call m' nature," she shrugs once more, "Both 'f us c'n work on dimmin' that fire in our chests, eh? We c'n help ourselves be better."

"How do we do that?" Magnes asks, having never really thought of a solution. He wasn't even sure he needed a solution. "And, Sable, I know I've said similar things, but, I never told you. Right now, lately, I consider you my very best friend."

Sable wants very, very much to suppress all signs of sentiment. It's not, she feels, in her nature to get gushy with anyone who she's not actively trying either to seduce, or who she's succeeded, previously, in seducing. Though, giving this fact thought, it seems a pretty cold blooded and calculating way to display sentiment. She never meant it to be so. She just… didn't think you were supposed to show vulnerability when it wasn't… aw, she doesn't know anymore.

"F'r the record," Sable states, "I don't never favor one comrade 'f mine over 'nother. Ain't right. But, seein' as y' have seniority 'n' all, 'n' that my, like, position t'wards Quinn ain't easily, like, contained within what y'd call, like," she lifts her hands to make scare quotes, "'platonic' - or whatever - friendship…" her eyes cut to the running shower. She's trying, but she still can't quite look at him when she says this. "I'm guess I'm inclined t' say, like… ditto."

"One day all this weirdness will be over, and we'll have music videos and everything." Magnes stands up, then reaches over to hug her tightly, this time not being in bed and completely exhausted. "We've just gotta stick together."

"Oh shit, be careful, I'm so fuckin' hungover…" Sable says, very quickly, as Magnes swoops down upon her. She gives an 'oof' but then slowly puts her arms around him, returning the hug, not quite able to avoid adding the guyish back-pat. "Yeah man. Sure fuckin' thing," she says, a little woozily, "I look forward t', like, new 'n' excitin' weirdness, eh?"

"Yeah, I look forward to it too. I'm glad we met. I never had much in the way of dreams, so riding on the coattails of your dream… it's really the next best thing to having my own." Magnes releases her from the hug, then turns the shower off and heads out of the bathroom. "I'll make you some tea and give you a shoulder massage and a hot towel, that should help your head."

Sable uses the towel rack to pull herself to her feet, following after Magnes, exiting into the relative dryness of the room, a mixture of sweat and steam giving her skin a sheen. But she looks better. "'n' I need that fuckin' job, too, while yer at it," she adds, which is sort of like 'thank you' only not because she's hit her daily quota of sincerity, gratitude and all that pansy crap.

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