Participants:
| Scene Title | Gingervagis |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Magnes and Sable have an important talk about women! |
| Date | April 1 2011 |
Magnes' Apartment!
Mid afternoon finds Magnes being completely unproductive for once. He's worked on a certain secret clothing project, done some music practice, and a bit of biology research. So with plain ol' chocolate chip cookies in the oven, Magnes lays on the couch watching television, one of the new Evangelions in particular. Right now very mindfucky stuff is happening, and he is very sucked into it.
Sable has a key. Of course. Because she never gave up the one she had during her brief stint here. Transient as always, this past move has been the first with rather than away. She feels the distinction, though in the end it still means figuring out how to use the local transit and, nowadays, learning the location of ever new checkpoints.
"Heeey!" she calls into the apartment when she arrives, the moment the door is open, "don yer johns, 'n' stow yer Hans. Y'all got company, dig?"
Magnes sits up, wearing a dark blue Superman shirt and a lighter pair of blue jeans as he crosses his legs. "Oh, hey! What's up? Uh, did you have that dream too, about the future? The one where I die." is the first thing he asks, immediately curious.
Sable is in what she's always in, layers added for the sake of keeping the cold out. She waddles in, pushing off her shoes, only getting the left off before - "Whassat?" said sharply, yellow eyes narrowed, "y'all fuckin' with me, boy?"
"We all walk down a train tunnel and everything is exploding above us, and Lance is there, but as an adult. I try to kiss you and then I push you all behind the gate before Claire in a FRONTLINE suit shoots me. I don't think you could hear or see Claire. Quinn had the dream too." Magnes motions her over, then pats the seat next to him.
Sable is giving Magnes a very wary look, and doesn't yet join him on the couch. Her arms fold and she squints, hard. "Fuckin' shit kinda April Fool's joke," she states, sourly, "dunno how y'all know 'bout that, but it was a shit dream, 'n' I don't intend t' make nothin' of it, so don't go tellin' fibs 'bout it, 't ain't funny."
"Sable, even if it is the future, it doesn't mean that's going to actually happen. There have been lots of futures I've heard about. There's a future where I'm a cop and Gabriel is my partner." Magnes shakes his head, though his look is reassuring. "Don't worry too much, alright?"
"Future?" Blink. "Who th' fuck mentioned anythin' 'bout th' future?" Sable throws her arms into the air, slipping into theater as denial is not functioning. "Aw fuckin' great," she states, "so now it ain't jus' a dream, it's a dream 'f th' fuckin' future? How th' hell is it we get t' that conclusion so goddamned quick?" She gives a snort. "Y'all say a thing like that, go on 'bout how now it's some prophetic-type dream, and y' tell me not t' worry?" The small woman strides up to Magnes, and jabs at him with a finger. "Fuck yeah it won't happen. 'cause you try 'n' pull any shit like that down th' road, I'ma die there with you out 'f fuckin' spite, 'n' so my soul c'n drag yers t' hell 'long with."
"A lot of people are having shared dreams about the future. And I'm saying not to worry because there have been so many futures, what makes this one any more likely to happen than the others? Someone will fix it." Magnes reaches out to take her wrist. "Sit down, the cookies will be done soon. And if I've never let you down before, then trust me not to let you down this time."
Sable does a pretty respectable grip break, pulling her wrist out through Magnes's hand. "Fuckin'- gimme a sec, okay? You sorry prick. Y'all are just fine, seein' as you got t' die all heroic-like. Me- guess I live t' get mean 'n' armed. Sonovabitch." These mutterings are not really directed at Magnes as such, and Sable has yet to show a capacity for anything like sustained upset with Magnes. It's just that she's working through this, because she hadn't been before. She reaches into her jacket pocket and fumbles out a joint. She doesn't ask permission before sparking it, a deep frown still creasing her brow. A draw. An exhale.
"Arright," Sable says, and finally takes the seat, "what sorta cookies you got cookin'?"
"Chocolate chip, I thought I should be old fashioned for once. And I'm not going to die, Sable, just knowing the future has already changed it." Magnes figures this is as good a time as any to change the subject, so he crosses his arms, pondering how to word this exactly. "You know how I let you sleep with Elaine, and how you thought it was really great?"
Of all subject changes, though, this one? Sable gives Magnes a totally nonplussed look, the joint hanging forgotten and smoking in her fingers. "…yeah," she says, the pause not so long as temporally dilated, "though dinnit turn out so fuckin' great. Why?"
"Well, imagine if Delilah said 'If you get Sable's permission, we can totally sleep together'." Magnes crosses his arms, not even making eye contact at this point as he explains the kinda/sorta/maybe hypothetical situation. "What would you say to that?"
Sable gives a visible wince, then lifts two fingers to her temple and rubs. "Jesus, Mary, Peter 'n' Paul," she says, "Upon imaginin', I immediately wonder who it is she's talkin' to. 'N' since it's me imaginin', I'm figurin' she's talkin' t' me. Only that don't make no sense, 'cause it is that I am me, so th' question is nonsense." Yellow eyes slice up to Magnes. "Y'all wanna lay with my woman, boy, you come out and say it. You don' dance around with th' make-believe bullshit."
"Well, alright. Delilah said that I could sleep with her if I asked you first." Magnes crosses his legs a bit tighter, not usually one to get nervous with Sable, this is a rare time where he's honestly been completely unable to make any eye contact at all. "I wanna get over Elaine, and I need to stop feeling as if just because I'm with another woman, I'm cheating on her."
Sable regards Magnes with a cool look. So this is her decision? Then how has Magnes come to her? A supplicant? A negotiator? "You really think thass gonna heal your wounded heart?" Sable inquires, tone arid rather than chilly, "I mean it both ways, too, boy. Are you really after healin', or do you just want t' get off? And if y' are after healin', honest, do y' really think that'll work?" Her lips quirk. "Y'all better be honest. F'r yerself, 's much 's me."
"I don't know, I think it's a little of both. I mean, she's the girl who basically set the standard for me being with other women. On the other hand, in my head, sex is a thing that I do with Elaine, and I need to fix that without feeling guilty." Magnes crosses his arms, putting even more thought into it. "Maybe this is a bad idea, I'm not even sure if I'll go through with it, but having your permission helps."
"Yeah, well, puberty is real fuckin' confusin'. But you'll make it through," Sable claps Magnes on the back, maybe a little too hard, "we all do, 'ventually." She rises slowly into a stand, rocking forward onto the balls of her feet before settling back onto her heels, taking another long draw from the cigarette. She looks down, slantwise, at Magnes, and then blows acrid smoke in his face in a steady stream. She gives a small cough. "And what if I say, 'go fuck yerself f'r even askin'?" she inquires, smoothly.
"Then I don't have a choice but to let it go." Magnes coughs and bats at the smoke in his face, clearing his throat. "It's not like I need to urgently do this or anything, and I'll probably end up not doing it at all, but if I decided this really was a good idea, I'd rather have your permission before giving this any more thought. I'd rather not let this be some sort of rift in our friendship."
Sable shakes her head, lips pulling into a half grimace. "Y'all ain't followin'. What I am suggestin' is that y'all c'n fuck yerself jus' f'r askin'. See, now it's yer turn t' imagine. Imagine, boy, that th' rift's already there in that y'd suggest such a thing 't all. What then, eh?"
"Well, then…" Magnes reaches behind and lightly rubs the back of his neck out of sheer uneasiness. "I guess I'd have to apologize. I only asked since I didn't think it'd bother you that much, since I let you and Elaine have your whole thing. So I didn't think it'd hurt to ask. I don't care if you say no, but I'd never know if I didn't ask."
"Get up," Sable says, jerking her thumb upwards, "on yer fuckin' feet, boy. Chop chop! Face me like a man!"
Magnes immediately stands, then turns around and looks her in the eye with a very awkward stare, eyes constantly shifting. "I, uh…" He clears his throat, trying to get a sentence out. "I'm sorry." is the best that he can do.
She steps right up to him, chin lifting so she can catch his evasive eyes with her steady, stern yellow stare. "Y'all have no fuckin' clue what sorry is," she growls. Next thing she's grabbed his shoulder, and delivered a really nasty gut shot, aiming right for the kidney. She gives a wheezy little laugh by his ear the moment after the blow lands.
"April Fool's, y' dumb fucker."
Magnes hunches over and grabs his stomach, staring up at her with a genuinely confused stare, then his eyes widen in surprise. "Wait, I uh, I mean… I can't believe it." He stands up straight, then falls back to the couch while continuing to rub his sore spot. "You scared the life out of me."
Sable continues to laugh, wheeze breaking into chuckle, and chuckle into outright knee slapping laughter. She turns and falls back into her seat next to Magnes, arms clasped around herself as she tries to contain a mirth that is not without its cruelty, but neither is it without fondness. She cricks her neck once this fit has subsided, and turns to regard Magnes rather more seriously.
If, if you do - 'n' y'all should think real hard 'bout it b'fore y' decide - I don' wanna hear 'bout it from you, don' wanna hear no details, and y'all keep it off my bed, y' here? Some places gotta remain a teensy fuckin' bit sacred."
"Yeah, alright. If. But now I think I've been scared out of it." Magnes leans over with his head on her shoulder, sighing lightly. "I think you just marked all over Delilah and I can't get it out of my head. Your joke was pretty effective repellent."
Sable lifts a hand to mess up Magnes' hair. "Y'all got a strange mind, my friend," she says, ashing her smoke out onto the floor. A pause, a key shift. "I do thank you, though. 't was you that introduced me. Y'all set us up, in fact, that first time. Shit- how long 'go was that?" She gives a chuckle. "Gotta be comin' up on a year, now. Shiiit…" She gives a low huff. "Y'all gotta have some other women in yer life, though, eh? This city's fuckin' rife with 'em. Every which was 's a pretty face."
"There's Elvira, but uh… that's a bit complicated. Maybe I should just be celibate. I mean, if I feel so guilty about sex because of Elaine, then being celibate to de-value sex in my mind makes as much sense as actually having it." Magnes raises a fist to slam it into his palm, nodding firmly. "Alright! From this moment forward, I am celibate!"
Sable gives Magnes a 'what are you crazy' look, then rubs her forehead with the heel of her hand, mumbling something incoherent before: "Y'all are always goin' off half-cocked you loony sonovabitch. Celibate? Jeezus. Okay, hold on t' yer fuckin' horses f'r just a goddamn second. Y'all mebbe should start with, like, th' root fuckin' problem here, eh? Why th' hell is it y' feel guilty? 'cause it ain't her fault y'all feel that way, that shit's in yer own head."
"I feel like that by having sex with another woman, I'm hurting her, even if she doesn't know it. I know it doesn't make any sense, but it feels like I'm betraying her." Magnes eyes the TV screen as some giant robot cannibalism seem to be going on, then shifts his gaze back to her. "I don't think there's any way around it. I either have to be celibate, or have sex with someone else, and I think the sex with someone else might make the guilt worse."
"Boy, that girl is doin' jus' fine, 'n' she sure 's fuck ain't actin' too guilty 'bout gettin' what she wants," Sable says, flatly, "and hell, but I say live and let live, but mebbe y'all need t' find some nice fuckin' normal girl and treat her proper, get some action through normal goddamn channels." A pause, a small deflation. "Look, mebbe y'all do need to stay 'way from th' wiles 'f women f'r a bit, get yer head sorted out. But don' make this shit so fuckin' crazy 'n' extreme, eh? You meet some gal, hit it off, don't go pushin' her 'way sayin' 'oh no, I cain't 'cause I'm all torn up 'bout my ex gone lezzy'" for some reason, Magnes has a more flagrant hickish accent than Sable when she does this impression, "y'all take her out, treat her good, and on th' third date, if she let's y', make some love."
"Yeah, I guess so… moderation instead of an extreme is probably best…" Magnes lays back on the couch, then immediately digs into it and pulls out his brown leatherbound Magnes' Wonderful Life journal, opening it so he can begin to write. "I'll just give myself time to move on."