Participants:
| Scene Title | Can I Be Lazarus? |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Two people— who are both very much alive— reconnect |
| Date | December 9, 2010 |
Pollepel Island — Bannerman's Castle
It took some time, but finally when evening went on, one of the kids eventually found Samara. Passing a message that Brian wanted to see her at eight, out on the steps of Bannerman.
Having not seen her since he bled on her suddenly tangible face, Brian has found himself inexplicably busy. Or at least that's what he's been telling people. You would think the man who can be everywhere at once would make time for his friend who only recently came to the land of the living. But. He.. hasn't.
The moonlight illuminates the snow quietly, giving a soft serenity to the landscape surrounding the massive building. The beauty in the island isn't the type you stop and stare and make exaggerated grunting noises that communicate appreciation. It's a softly spoken, encompassing beauty. The kind you might not notice at first if you don't look hard enough. But the elegance of the landscape is undeniable on this night.
Or maybe it's crap and Brian's feeling romantic.
A blanket has been laid out on the steps, a few blankets piled on top of it. A stray flake of snow drifts down here and there. Every now and then the wind carries a drop of snow forcefully along it's path.
One such flake finds it's way into Brian's eye. "Fhffhf." Bringing his hand up from the guitar strings, the flake is slapped at. His eye then violently rubbed at, once satisfied that the snowy sneak attack has been eliminated, Brian looks towards the wind as if to see if it has anything else to throw at him. Watching the darkness emotionlessly, he glances back at his guitar. He is dressed thickly, a beanie pulled low. Blankets draped on his shoulders, his icy fingers dance over the strings deftly. Playing no tune in particular. Seated on the blanket, Brian is quite warm despite the freezing temperature. Except for his hands. His hands are very cold.
Oh yeah, there's an unlit cigarette in his mouth.
"I don't think the world's ending again," a very non-frog voice observes from the top of the steps. "I thought it was one of those end-of-the-world things— " He earns a flicker of a smile before she shaking her head, "You shouldn't smoke, it's not good for you."
The shuffle of steps brings a very tangible auburn haired Sami to the front of the castle. She's traded in her worn jeans and grey t-shirt for a thick green sweater and… another pair of jeans from her best friend. It's strange being in different clothes let alone someone else's clothes after so long.
It's been a couple of days and Samara has regained some of her motility although she's not exactly light on her feet yet. Her legs are still a little shaky, but her renewed orientation to gravity has happened faster than she'd thought; regardless, it'll be awhile until she can run any marathons.
Slowly she shuffles to where he is, taking secret delight in the sound of her own steps before she settles next to him on the blanket, "You wanted to see me?" Her lips quirk into a lopsided smile while her arms tug around her tightly; she's not used to feeling cold.
"Well maybe I don't anymore with that attitude." A violent strum of random chords is given out to echo the distaste she causes in his poor mouth. "First of all. I was trying to recreate our first meeting without you being dead." The cigarette is spit out unceremoniously. Tumbling over his lips it drops into his lap. "A little more glee and gratitude for your pseudo savior would be appreciated." He harrumphs.
"Sorry I didn't see you earlier." He shrugs lightly, giving her an apologetic look. "I wanted to, just you know. Chillins." Eyeing her sidelong, he grins a little. "So you got out of four year old clothes? Took a shower? Had some good food?" That's most of your stuff crossed off the list, right?"
Samara's lips press firmly together, yet she's still smiling, it seems it's an expression that won't be easily removed. "There's a lot of glee and gratitude here," she insists matter-of-factly as she lifts her chin to meet his gaze— eye contact is the simplest pleasure for someone who's been primarily deprived of it. And when she finds it, her smile grows into a toothy grin. Finally she says the two words straight up, "Thank you." The smile softens some as her chin drops as she looks at her feet. "I… I feel like everything I say will just… like it's not enough, you know? I lost… I lost myself for a long time. And you saw me. Thank you… for noticing…"
She takes a long deep breath before nodding. "I did. I have to admit I feel a little naked in Rue's clothes. And I'm shorter than her so there's that too. But eating. Oh Brian, you have no idea how amazing it is to eat! It's like everything tastes amazing even if doesn't because it's been so long…" There's a flicker of a slightly nervous smile before she shakes her head, "It's probably silly, but I can't help it! It's like being asleep for a long time and watching life go by without realizing or something…"
"The list is getting there," she states quietly as she turns her head to look up at him again, letting herself slide a little closer towards him. Slowly she takes a deep breath of the cool winter air and just holds it in here lungs, giving her that extra jolt as she reaches out to actually touch his hand resting on the guitar. "You must be freezing."
"I… Didn't you want a cheeseburger? Or pizza? It was something fattening." He gives a teasing smile. Which is a real thing, by the way. "I was thinking. I don't know. You have Rue. But.. I mean. I have me's off the island. And if you wanted to." A light shrug is given. "Maybe in a couple days, or tomorrow. You know. If you want. I mean we were going to see your family sometime anyway. So might as well." Another shrug. Lots of shrugs here. "You could come off the island with me. If you want. Might be cool to see New York City in color again."
He smiles as she starts to talk. "It's so weird to hear you talk. And to say my name. That's weird." The way he says it though implies it's the kind of weird he appreciates. Though his words disappate as he resigns to simply listening to her. It's nice to not have to do all the talking, and to not wait sixty minutes for her to get a letter-word sentence out. "You're welcome."
"You talk fast." He notes idly, with an amused smile. "It's not bad. It's just.. It's funny that I can know you without knowing that. You know?" As she slides a little closer he inches towards her as well. Sitting hip to hip, he allows her to touch his hand. Slowly the hand turns over palm up. "I'm okay."
The magic word is pizza. It brings a broader grin, "Yesssss! I looove pizza! Any kind pretty much. Except fish. Fish does not belong on pizza. I still wonder who thought sardines were a good idea— " Sami's face flushes involuntarily again while her eyes roll at herself. "I know I talk too much. And really fast. Sorry about that… I'm a middle child, I had to talk fast to get my ideas out— lest we all end up spending hours talking about the girl Tahir was trolling or the pink lipgloss Adisa just bought. And I'm not kidding. Hours. One lipgloss." Her eyebrows escalate.
When his hand turns over, her fingers lightly trace indiscernible shapes over his palm, the softest touch, her smile softening underneath it. "I'm sorry about your nose," her voice quiets around the words as she finally laces her fingers with his, drawing his hand to her lips to press a light kiss against it.
"Well if you want. I could take you off the island. Could get you some pizza. A nicer bed to sleep on. All my cars were sold last minute before the day the world ended. But.. I have a friend who will probably let me borrow her car. Probably. We could drive to see your family. Whenever you want though." He reaffirms. "No, it's okay." He lets out a light laugh. "My e—" His tongue pauses notably. As his mind rolls over the fact that it's not a good idea to talk about exes with non-exes. "Elephant. I wish I had an elephant." He grins at the talk about the lipgloss. "Just one? Impressive."
Speaking of elephants, it's time to talk about the one in the room. Or maybe not talk about it. Kiss about it. His eyes follow their hands as they interlock. Smiling softly as she kisses his hand, "It's alright. I got better." His nose looks unharmed. Not a scratch on it. Or a dent as the case may be. The guitar is taken with his other hand and set on the opposite side of Samara. Leaning forward, his hand comes up to lightly brush her cheek. Sliding back his cold hand grips gently behind her head, pulling her forward so that her lips meet his.
"That sounds… nice. I— I feel like there's so much I've missed. Like I was underwater and couldn't hear or do anything and finally I'm coming up for breath," Samara's grin turns reflectively lopsided again. "I want to live life again! I want to see everything and do everything and go everywhere! I don't see why I waited so long to really live— like I know I was young, but it took dying to like make me realize the importance of living." She shrugs, it's just one of those things.
Her own smile softens and with the touch against her cheek, she leans towards him, slowly closing the distance between them. Her fingers rise to either side of his face, a gentle caress, while her eyes squeeze shut. The kiss is soft, a gentle brush of lips, entirely novice on her part.
The kiss is maintained for a little while. Pressing in, then separating for a brief second. Moving back in.. When he finally pulls back, he grins at her broadly. "I told you, you weren't dead retard. Though I suppose this is probably a lot like heaven. Getting to kiss me, right? AmIright?" He leans in again, pressing another gentle kiss against her lips. His hand combing through her hair fluidly. Once he pulls back again, his forehead goes forward to rest against hers. Letting out steam against her face.
His other hand entangles her fingers with his, bringing it back to rest on his lap. "Life is important." He murmurs with a little grin, echoing whatever that thing she was saying before they started kissing. "Where do you want to go first?"
The broken kiss is met with a dreamy sigh from Samara which is almost immediately followed up by pinkened cheeks— oh the story this will turn into for Rue later. At the teasing however, she responds in kind with an overly enthusiastic roll of her eyes and a disconnected 'listen to how ethereal-dreamy I am' voice, "Oh yes, Brian, just heavenly. I was taken to Olympus itself…" Her nose wrinkles a moment, "I think it's Olympus… oh wait all of the dead people go to the Underworld don't they? All destined for a hell by Hades, right?" As their foreheads meet, her eyes gently close again, drinking the moment. Her lips twitch as she weighs something, but eventually she thinks better of it, letting this thought remain unuttered.
Her flutter open amid a fan of thick dark eyelashes as her free hand continues to caress his cheek. She rolls her tongue over her lips before another grin spreads over her lips, "Pizza first? But don't tell mom! I just… I'm nervous to see them. I know it's silly…"
"We can take as long as you want to see your parents. It's not silly at all. Four years of separation when they think you're dead." Winters tilts his head to the side, leaning his cheek into her hand. Her other hand gets a firm squeeze. "I'll take you to my favorite spots I like to take tangible people in the City." Keeping his forehead against hers, his eyes sway off to the side, pondering. "You want to go see that dream girl? Her body. That is. She's separated from her body, so we're trying to bring her back to it. I said that in our dream.. Donno if you remember. Anyways. I'm sleeping with her."
A pause is given, his grin spreading. "Well. Okay. I'm sleeping by her. To try and bring her dream self back to her body self so she can wake up. You have had dreams with her, we can go see if maybe she'll come to you. And the bed is nicer than the castle."
He gives a short gesture with his head, that jostles against her forehead. "Yeah but there's a good part of Hades. You can go to that place. Alysian fields.. or amnesia fields.. Something like that. You can just say I took you to amnesia fields." His chin juts out to press another brief kiss against her lips. "Anyways. Um. About the whole living thing. I'm kind of a criminal." He winces a little bit before adding with a bright cheery voice, "Surprise! Yeah, so technically I'm wanted by the government. So.. the living thing. We can do that, but you just got to remember. I have to be careful. You have been dead four years. So… You're totally cool. But yeah.. Wantedish fugitiveish." He points back to himself.
"You know tangible people? Scandal! I thought you were just friends with the intangible and that our friendship was about to cease," there's no deadpan in her delivery, her entire demeanour doesn't allow it. In fact, her eyes bright, her lips curl upwards, and two distinct dimples form along her cheeks. "And thanks. For understanding. I love them and they are amazing and I know in like my head they'd be happy, but… I feel different. Like I'm someone else pretending to be me— "
Samara winces a little at the notion of seeing Delia, "I would like to see her actually. Apparently I did that— I didn't know. I think I owe her an apology or something…" Her eyebrows furrow sheepishly. "I'd like to help." Her own eyes flit away from his, off back towards the castle, but she still doesn't move away.
The criminal thing actually expands her smile. "I'm pretty sure people that come back to life are not to be trusted. And I'm also pretty sure that most people around here are wanted for one reason or another." She presses her lips to his again very quickly this time. "And I'm cool hanging with a fugitive. That makes me feel awesome. Just know that I don't know anything about… like… anything awesome. All I do is dance. The fact that you're a fugitive totally makes makes me that much more cool. Maaaan I wish those snotty girls from high school could see me now! Did you know they faked sad at my funeral. It's like, 'C'mon people!' I barely knew you!"
"I assumed it was your fault." He smirks a little. "Well.. if we wake her up, you can apologize. Maybe she won't hate you, if you do help her up. She's been stuck for a while. No four years, but still. Hey you guys have something in common. Stuck in your ability. But now free." Returning her kiss, he moves to plant another on her cheek. "So.. Are we going to count our dream kiss as the first one or this one as the first one?" Winters smiles gently.
When she starts talking about how cool it is to be a fugitive. He gets a little excited, "Oh my God. Do you want me to teach you to use a gun?! And ride a motorcycle?! And speak cantonese?! Listen. If a badass has done it, I've learned to do it. I have a lot of time to practice with my ability. So… Wanna learn how to shoot a gun?!" He sounds excited, almost giddy. His hand disengages from hers, going back to the back of his pants. Bringing up his coat then his jacket, he goes to bring out the weapon. "I don't know if I mentioned this.. But there was this organization. Called the Company. I was an agent for them. Like a secret agent. I could teach you to be a secret agent."
Samara frowns just a stitch, "Hopefully she doesn't hate me! I died— I lost most of my friends (except Rue) and like my family— I can't afford to have an enemy so soon! And I feel bad, I had no idea. Honest. I thought it was just this weird dream…" But the frown is dissipated quickly enough, turning sweet at the mention of the dream kiss. She shrugs a little, "I like this. But that kiss— in the dream… I didn't know what to say. It said what I wanted to. Like everything I wanted to. Kind of."
The change in topic, however, gets Sami pumped, "Seriously!? You would seriously teach me! Hell yes!!" If someone offers to teach you how to be a badass, this is the only response. "I don't think I've ever held a gun. How do you hold it?! Is it heavy? How do you aim?" She extends her hand towards the weapon only to pause. "I wanna learn how to be a secret agent. Like Secret Squirrel but a million times more awesome! Also… you're a fugitive you probably have a similar problem. I'm dead— it occurs to me I really won't be able to do much because… well… dead. Do you know something who could make me fake ID or something? There was this guy in high school but his fake ID's weren't remotely realistic…"
"We'll see. She was kind of mad at you in the dream, right?" He laughs a little bit. "I'm sure she'll forgive you. And she's nice. I think. Well.. I haven't talked to her a whole lot. We drank some once. But…" He pauses as realization sets in. Eyes widen. "You have never had alcohol!" His features take on a distinctly excited theme. "We need to go get drunk!" Calming down he tries to listen, but it's just so distracting when he's excited about booze. "It was nice." As if to punctuate it, he leans forward to give her one more kiss.
"Of course I would teach you." His eyes light up when she responds positively to the gun. Taking her hand he goes to place the 9 mm in her hand solidly. "It's a little heavy. But.. I mean. It's not like your arm will fall off. Safety's on. But.. you know. You don't pull the trigger unless you really want to shoot it. Even with safety on. I know it's tempting to touch it though." He allows her to take the weapon. Going to rest one hand on her lap. "We're with the ferrymen. They provide all kinds of stuff like that. I'll go talk to some people. And you will be brought back to life, Lazarus."
The kiss is given in kind. "Nope! No alcohol! I'm telling you, I missed out on all of the fun stuff! And then I got to hold Rue's hair when she got sick." Samara shrugs a little as her hand is weighed down by the gun. "Woooow it is kind of heavy." She holds it up, her finger away from the trigger as she uses it to scan the area making a 'pew-pew' (it's the only sound effect she can think of for a gun) noise as she does so. Moments later she's returning it to him, "Thank you." She presses a kiss to his cheek, "For everything."
"Do you think my name can be Lazarus on my ID?"