Participants:
| Scene Title | Entitled Opinions |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Convergent paths bring together divergent opinions. |
| Date | November 18, 2010 |
Exterior.
These are the last days of certain exile. Soon the more restless of the Pollepel stranded will be able to head back to the mainland, to try and faze slowly back into the ebb and flow of the city and its beleaguered people.
Sable will be on the first boat back, or at least that's her intention. Stir crazy doesn't quite begin to cover it, to be honest. However kindly Quinn may have been to let Sable use her guitar (when Quinn herself isn't using it, of course), without her own dear girls the yellow eyed musician feels like she's missing not limbs so much as vital internal organs. Components of her innermost spiritual nutrition. Hyperbolic though it may seem, Sable feels starved for music, though really maybe it's more the other way around. Without means to get out the intensity of her energy and feeling, she has been building up into greater and greater agitation.
Luckily, there is an outdoors. Stir crazy, sure, but not necessarily cabin feverish. The sea air tangs her olfactory as Sable meanders around the perimeter of the castle, hoodied as the temperature permits, the direct glare of the early afternoon sun competing with the mist and chill that rises from the ocean all around. She's got a leash in hand - she's walking Misty, the dog in her charge, and the puppy seems to be appreciative of it, moving from stone to stone, shrub to shrub, sniffing, investigating, and (when nature calls) taking care of her excremental business. But not marking any territory, thankfully. That's a boy thing. Pfft. Boys.
Though most of Shannon's time on the island has been spent in the kitchen, or completely gone where no one can find her, she's not big on being stuck indoors anymore than Sable is. She walks out of the castle with a coat on, sighing softly as she starts her stroll in the direction of the water. And that's where the stroll may have taken her, if it weren't for her spotting the puppy. Adults she can do without. Horses she can do without, but she's fond enough of kids and puppies.
And so, after a moment's hesitation, Shannon starts towards Sable instead of the sea.
Misty perks up the moment she catches wind of Shannon, turning to catch sight of what she already smells and hears. Sable takes note only that Misty takes note, not knowing the thing noted herself, but of course she jumps to conclusions. "Whassat, dog? There a squirrel out there? We gonna get ourselves a squirrel?" is said in a tone of egging on, and while Misty doesn't understand the words, she understands the tone, wagging her tail vigorously and giving a few short barks, starting to tug on the leash, trying to make her way towards Shannon.
This makes Sable turn, and see that it is not in fact a squirrel that Misty has noticed, but a girl. Young woman. Whatever, Sable's not terribly politically correct. Brows lift, followed by the corners of her mouth as the yellow eyed girl smiles, letting Misty draw her along. "Mush! Mush!" Sable declares, as the distance closes. Her smile becomes a grin. "Fancy seein' you out here Ms. Dunno-Yer-Name."
"It's Shannon. And shouldn't be too surprising that you see me out here. Everyone inside is getting sick of being inside, and I'm no exception," Shannon says, shrugging and crouching down, so that when they get closer she can deliver petting and scritches to the dog. "Nor am I a squirrel, thankfully. Their diet is so bland and unimaginative," she says in a dry tone.
More attention? New attention? Misty can get into that. Shannon finds her fingers bumped against by an insistent dog head, eager to facilitate as many pets and scritches as are being proffered. Sable eases into a crouch as well, bringing them all that much closer to Misty's level. She extends her index finger and sticks it in the path of the puppy's rapidly flapping tail, causing the tuft of it to whap back and forth against Sable's digit.
"Pleasure, Shannon," Sable says, looking over at the young woman just named, "glad y' ain't a squirrel either. Woulda sic'd m' hound dog on y' in that case. See if I could get y' t' spice up m' own diet a little." This is a joke, apparently, as the smile that follows it suggests. Judgment of funniness is left to the audience, of course.
Sadly, Shannon doesn't seem to have much in the way of a sense of humor and she just looks blankly at Sable for a moment before looking back down to Misty. "She doesn't seem too ferocious to me. You should find some of the kids and let them play with her. They're bored and scared. Went nuts over the horses until the boat showed up. They need some cheering and puppies have a way of cheering up kids."
Wah wah. Sable rolls with it. They can't all be winners, and this chick seems like she's got her laces tugged a bit tight. That's fine. That makes the payoff for loosening her up even bigger, or so conventional wisdom goes. "'N' spoil this here dog, thinkin' it c'n get all sorts 'f love 'n' affection without doin' a little bit 'f work f'r it?" Sable says, mock-shocked at this irresponsible notion, "I want 't least a few critters in th' stewpot b'fore we treat this layabout hound t' such a feast 'f fondness."
But in all (quasi) seriousness. "Cut y' a deal. Y' take a 'round with me 'n' Misty here, see if we can't find some decent game. End 'f it, game or no, I guess I c'n let 'er off. But that's only if y' come with me, lend me that pretty pair 'f eyes t' spotting whatever wildlife's worth eatin' on this rock."
"We've already put some critters in the stewpot. Rabbits and doves and fish mostly," Shannon says quite seriously. Then she's eyeing Sable suspiciously. "You want me to walk with you in order to reward the children?" she asks, arching a brow. "Besides, I'm no hunter. I'm the chef, not the trapper. That's pretty much left to the guys."
"Oh Jesus," Sable says, casting her eyes heavenward, "how wound tight 'r you, hon? I'm jus' kiddin'. It's my charmin' type way 'f gettin' y' t' accompany me on a stroll. But y' had t' go 'n' be all literal minded on me, make me out t' be th' fool." She clicks her tongue, faux-chiding. "F'rgive me, 'n' walk with me all th' same? I'd dig havin' th' company, 'n' pretty eyes are just as good t' look upon 's look out 'f."
"I knew what you meant," Shannon says, shaking her head. "I'm just really not that interested in taking a stroll with anyone. I only came out to get a bit of fresh air before I got started again in the kitchen," she says bluntly, rolling those pretty eyes as she straightens, head tilting, studying Sable.
Study is met with study, though from a lowered vantage. Sable remains crouched, looking up at Shannon with pointed investigation. Misty, suddenly bereft of scratching, toddles up to Shannon's leg and bumps her calf with her head, before giving her a brown eyed look that is effortlessly imploring. "I ain't gonna twist yer arm, hon," Sable says, tugging Misty back by her leash a bit, not the most nurturing of pet-keepers, "out 'f it, dog," before giving a huff of warm breath up at her nose, fighting back a little of the creeping cool. "But," she continues, "I promise y' I ain't a bad person t' get t' know. You got somewhere t' be, arright, I dig that. But we got common cause t' have a little bit 'f, like, fellow feelin' so… don't shut me out 'r nothin', arright?"
"Never said you were a bad person," Shannon says with a shake of her head. "I just don't like people. In general they're stupid, easily manipulated, devious, untrustworthy and rarely even worth the time it takes for a round of the matress rumba." Such an optimistic person, huh? "Kids may be as stupid as their adult counterparts, but they're not devious or untrustworthy. They're too innocent for shit like that. As for a common cause? Yeah, can't argue that, and I'm doing my part, believe me," she says, sounding grumpy about the last.
Such cynicism! Sable fancies herself a pragmatic idealist, and rarely has a great deal of good to say of people in general. But the sheer bitterness of what she hears in Shannon's words almost makes her wince. "Hon, while I don't disagree with y' on any particular 'bout grown folks, all them words got other words too, opposites - smart, strong, honest 'n' reliable - that I set t' those I love. 'n' we only got 'untrustworthy' 'cause we got 'trustworthy' t' say ain't there in such a person. 'n' as f'r kids… innocent?" Sable gives another click of her tongue. "Dunno where you grew up, hon, but I w's a kid not so long 'go, 'n' I got th' shit kicked outta me often 'nuff t' have no illusions 'bout th' so-called innocence 'f children. Fuckin' wild animals, kids are. Vicious 'n' cruel like grownfolk usually f'rget how t' be."
Shannon shrugs, hands sliding into her pockets. "You're entitled to your opinion, same as I am. And my opinion is that I'd rather hang around kids for the most part. I don't have to worry about a kid shooting at me. And if I ever find a person who's smart, strong honest and reliable, I'll probably keel over from shock."
"Sure, sure, yer safe 'cause y' ain't also a kid," Sable says, smiling crookedly, "leave kids alone f'r long 'nough, that's when hair gets pulled, dirt gets smeared 'n' names get called. 'course, I figure we're both 'f us, with our opinions gettin' close t' th' truth. Honest grown folk ain't, much 'f th' time, least 'f all t' themselves. Kids, mean little shits that many 'f 'em are, at least own th' fact their mean little shits. So that's a sort 'f honest, eh?"
The yellow eyed girl rises to her feet. "I ain't settin' m'self as much 'f an example 'f smarts, strength, honesty 'r reliability, but I see gleams 'f it everywhere. People c'n be better, hon. Love makes 'em better. That I believe. That I know," she grins, "love's my business. And I ain't just talkin' 'bout th' mattress rumba."
Here Shannon smiles and shakes her head. "Love, the emotional kind, is an illusion. An excuse people use so they don't feel guilty getting nasty between the sheets. Or a reason for staying with someone who beats them and treats them like shit. Or a reason for doing stupid things. Love doesn't exist, sweetcheeks. Sorry."
"Oh, honey," Sable says, smile wan and sad, "I dunno what happened t' leave y' so minded, but - 'n' I speak only f'r m'self - I ain't never needed no reason t' do stupid things. And I ain't never felt guilty 'bout gettin' down 'n' dirty if gettin' down 'n' dirty w's all that w's goin' on. Why th' fuck should anyone feel guilty 'bout that?"
"Clearly you haven't talked to a lot of devout Catholics," Shannon says dryly. "You hit any religious area and you get sex guilt. So they cover it up with love. If they love someone, it's alright, or so they tell themselves," she says, shrugging.
"Aw, well, that's f'r th' fuckin Papists mebbe," Sable says, rolling her eyes, like, come on, everyone knows Catholics are crazy Mary worshippers, "'n' mebbe not so wild. There's somethin' 'f love in every lady I've lain with. Not love like y' see written up in cards nor pasted over billboards 'r nothin'. Love's bigger, broader 'n' better th'n all that. Mebbe it's a matter 'f what y' mean when y' say love, hon. I mean… shit - who y' got in yer life that's important t' y'? Or ain't y' got no one?"
"I've got myself, and that's all I need," Shannon says with a smile, even as she thinks of someone who could qualify. "Love makes people stupid, and I try not to be stupid. Stupid gets you killed, and I plan on living a very, very long life, one way or another."
"Honest, 'n' bein' so in th' interests 'f bein' better th'n th' most 'f what y' see in th' world," Sable says, wrapping Misty's leash one loop around her wrist, "if I ain't livin' my life th' one way that love makes f'r me, stupid 'r no, I don't much care 'bout how long it is. Stupid that may be, indeed, but I lived otherwise, loveless 'n' all, 'n' that ain't hardly livin' by my estimation. But hey," she shrugs, "guess that's one 'f them opinions I'm entitled to, eh?"
"I'm not here to tell anyone else how they should live. None of my business, none of my concern. So yeah, it's one of those opinions you're entitled to," Shannon says, nodding. "I'll let you get back to your walk though. Time to start figuring out how I'm gonna fix dinner." She gives a faint, and entirely too fleeting smile. "Bye," she says before turning back towards the castle.
"Y'all wanna make it your concern, hon," Sable calls after Shannon, "y'all just pay me a visit. Been a pleasure. Honest." Which last she insists on being, apparently. She'll finish her walk, but she won't be too watchful for wildlife. That smile, glimpsed however briefly, is a rare enough creature to satisfy Sable for today.