Participants:
| Scene Title | Light and Sparkle |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Remi helps Sable move through her element, which Sable is way out of. |
| Date | February 13, 2010 |
Jewelry Boutique
Let's be clear, Sable doesn't steal any more. And even if she did (which, as I just mentioned, she doesn't) she's hardly stupid enough to try and jack anything from a place like this. All glass displays, interior spot lighting, tasteful black and blue velvet (black and red for the Valentine's day specials), with attendants hovering at respectful distances, this is a jewelry store where the least of items would send a lifter way past petty larceny - Tiffany & Co. may be cracked stone and vapor, but New York's celestial high life goes on, and it needs the brightest of stars to shine in its tattered firmament.
So yes, Sable doesn't steal - wouldn't here if she did. And she's cruising under camo, wearing her single sleek little suit under her leather jacket, cap nudged over hair that might look stylishly messy if viewed from the right perspective. Why, then, does she keep feeling like she needs to scan for security? Why the constant, aching concern that she's suddenly going to be found out, that a flask of cheap hooch will tumble out of her pocket, and someone will point and shout 'street person'! And then her ass will be on the curb.
No such misfortune, however. Just standard out-of-place paranoia. Hard to blame her, though, as she picks her way through the gleaming rows of gems and settings. This is a little out of her range of experience.
With a jingle of the door chimes, the redheaded Frenchwoman slips into the jewelry store, all dressed up in finery as is standard for her. Designer jeans, designer sweater, designer coat, designer shoes, designer sunglasses— designer everything. She's come today to get herself a new necklace to go with her newest outfit, a cheerful smile on her features.
She immediately steps up to the diamond counter, not yet noticing the familiar woman she saw at the concert the other night. She greets one of the attendants in French, before going back to examining the merchandise.
Let's be fair, without a clear look at her features, it'd be hard to place Sable so far out of their first meeting's context. And when Sable casts her first look Remi's way, it is a glance in appreciative passing - the admiration of art in motion - rather than in recognition. It's when Sable hears her voice, words she doesn't understand but a cadence she remembers, that she does a double-take. How many French redheads does one encounter in a span of a few days?
Secondary investigation gives away the game. Sable's brows arch in private surprise - what's she doing here? Then her lips quirk in admission of the irony. It's really she that shouldn't be here, not Remi. Remi looks like she's precisely where she ought to be.
Which may just come in handy.
Without announcing herself outright, she sidles up over towards the slim foreigner, yellow eyes still scanning the displays. She speaks almost out of the side of her mouth, words drawled up at Remi. "Can't figure it… why ain't there no price tags?"
Remi turns, peering at Sable as she approaches with raised brows. Her thought process is similar — what's she doing here? The quiestion prompts a small chuckle and a shake of her head, Remi turning her gaze back down to a bracelet she was looking at, her head tilted to the side. There are a lot of diamonds in that bracelet. It's sparkly.
"Because," she murmurs to Sable in a soft tone, "zey are very expensive, oui?" She smiles. She doesn't add that part of the reason that there is no price tag is because, for a majority of the people who come in here to shop, price usually isn't an issue. For Remi, that is certainly the case. One of the pieces in here might cost her a week's salary. But then, a large portion of her salary goes to sit in a bank account.
Remi also is very blunt. No skirting around the bush for the French redhead. "What are you doing 'ere?" A charming smile is on her face as she asks this question, offsetting the almost rude nature of the question.
Sable don't care too much for money. Money, she's told, can't buy her love. Though, as it happens…
"Lookin' f'r somethin' f'r someone special," she says, giving Remi a teasingly incredulous look, "mebbe when I look 's good 's you, hon, I'll start thinkin' 'bout buyin' some jewels t' compliment me. But, as it is, I figure better not t' invite no comparisons," she gives Remi a wide grin, "not everyone's like you, doll, flawless 'nuff t' outshine a diamond," her eyes cut down the bracelet. Wow, yeah, that is a lot of diamonds. "much less a whole hoard 'f 'em."
The yellow eyed girl extends a hand and taps the glass of the display with her nail. "I wann'd t' get my, like- I dunno- girlfriend somethin' nice f'r V-Day," there is maybe the slightest perceptible nervousness as she tries to finagle the appropriate term for the person she's shopping for, "but very expensive is a 'very' more th'n I c'n afford," disappointment tarnishing her voice, "fuck," she eyes Remi, "how'd you get so goddamn classy? Y'all born to it? That how it's gotta be?"
Remi blinks a few times, before offering a warm smile over to Sable, her cheeks coloring ever-so-slightly. "Merci." She murmurs this, offering a faint smile toward Sable, before turning her blue eyes back toward the jewelry counter, chuckling softly. That's actually a bit too sparkly for her wrist, really. She prefers simpler fashion statements.
After a moment, she leads the way toward more muted jewelry designs that suit her style a bit better. And possibly Sable's budget. "I was born into it, oui." She murmurs this in a soft tone, smiling. "My mother was ze founder of a designer fashion label, and my father a businessman." She turns a faint smile toward Sable.
Sable meanders after Remi, feeling somewhat less ill at ease now that she's got a docent with her - Remi seems posh enough for the both of them. The blush, however, subtle, doesn't go unnoticed and Sable cracks a slantwise smile as she comments, "good t' know I c'n add a touch 'f rose t' that alabaster cheek."
"I was born way outta it," the smaller woman says, crossing behind Remi to peer into a new display, "dunno who m' mother 'n' father were. Coulda been king 'n' queen, f'r I all I know, 'n' me a princess meant t' be decked out in all this," she gestures widely at the room, grin crooked, "but as it is, I grew up an awful fuckin' ne'er'do'well. Oh, th' cruel twists 'f fate, eh?" Despite her words, she doesn't sound too bothered. And, to be fair, she's here amongst the jewels now.
"Y'all met 'er, at th' concert," Sable informs Remi, "gal I'm out t' buy for. Tall, rust-headed, swanky-type English accent? Got a flair f'r colors. Got her amber 'n' silver, like, filigree b'fore. Need t' top that somehow." A big, harmless smile is offered up to Remi. "If y'all don' mind lendin' me yer blue-blood fashionable-type advice."
Remi's response is a smile, turning to offer a grin over to Sable as she lifts a hand to run through her hair. "It is possible. Difficult, but possible." She offers a small chuckle, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she looks down to the display of jewelry.
The remarks prompt another chuckle from the French woman, who takes from Sable's relaxed stance on her history. "I don't think zat I would do well in zat life. I am a ballerina before anything else." She chuckles. "Ballet and never do well don't tend to mingle well, oui?"
Then, she turns a smile toward Sable. "Elaine? Oui, I 'ave met 'er." She chuckles, before gesturing toward a rather lovely emerald pendant. "Zis would go with her eyes."
"Beggin' yer pardon," Sable says, smile just a little sly, "but it'd mingle well 'nuff in someone who w's real awful at ballet. Every faith, though, that no so mixture resides in yer fair frame, eh?" She tilts her head, giving Remi a once over that's less lascivious and more simply considering. Bodies in motion are something Sable understands in a certain innate capacity. "I'd like t' see y' do yer thing, hon," she admits, "if y'd be willin' t' let me sometime. Ballet, I mean," she adds, sly smile flashing into grin very briefly, "ain't gonna push th' bounds 'f our acquaintance too fast too quick. I tol' y' I'm a slow player, didn't I?"
The pendant gets only the briefest look before Sable has lifted her hands and proclaimed a startlingly sudden protest. "Oh, naw, naw, no… no such thing b'tween me 'n' her," she says, hastily, "wouldn't be so bold as t' claim it, lovely creature though Elaine truly is. No, no, honor's mine t' court Delilah," her smile returns, "easy mixup, though. Beauteous redheads seem uncommon common t' my acquaintance. Yerself a prime example, doll."
"I'm sure zat could be arranged, oui." She smiles over to Sable. "If you would like, I can also give you tickets to ze shows zat I organize and, occasionally, dance in." She chuckles softly, lifting a hand to rub at the back of her neck. "I certainly don't mind spectators, in any case. In Russia, I danced before full audiences, and often."
Then, she chuckles. "My mistake." She smiles, recalling Delilah's face— she remembers it well. "Well, I can tell you zat emeralds are good for red'eads. Zey contrast ze 'air in lovely ways." She smiles. "Rings and necklaces are ze most romantic." A gesture is offered toward another pendant, this one a heart with emeralds and diamonds set into it. "Per'aps something like zat?"
Sable laughs, imagining herself in a opera house. She can't visualize it clearly - it's just a vast swath of gold curly-cews and red velvet and fancy - and for some reason she imagines herself with opera glasses, a remarkably authentic anachronism. "How many tickets can y' give out, eh? I'd wanna bring someone I knew could appreciate it proper. I'll surely appreciate yer grace, but th' culture mebbe will be lost on me."
She peeks at the green heart, lips quirking. Her stomach feels a little hollow when she thinks of how expensive it might be. "That's gorgeous. But… mebbe a ring. A necklace I've got 'er. A ring'd be somethin' new." Sable gives Remi a near-nervous look. "What c'n a get f'r, like… three hundred dollars? 'cuz that's 'bout what I'm down to."
Two fingers are held up, Remi offering a faint smile over to Sable. "Deux. Per'aps up to quatre." Four fingers are held up. A little French lesson for Sable! "Ballet is about ze story, oui? It is a way of telling story without words. Posture, gestures, facial expression, all ze way down to ze way you move, it all 'as to portray a story."
Then, she smiles, gesturing to a counter to her left, closer to the door. The cheaper counter, for those who want to buy jewelry on a much smaller budget than the more extravagant customers. After a moment, her keen eye picks up on a nice white gold ring, with a diamond and two emeralds set into it. "Per'aps zat one?" She's been in and out of jewelry stores all of her life, so it's rather easy to estimate the price of something.
Remi's explanation draws a look of genuine interest, once that is open and obvious enough that it might be mistaken for false due to its exaggeration. The intentness of her expression is fixed, her brow furrowed. "That so?" she says, "I dinnit hardly know that. Listen, when's yer next show? I wanna make a point t' see it, but y'all gotta explain t' me after what it w's all about, arright?" She grins, "backstage passes, doll. Think y' could manage it f'r moi?" Wince.
Ah yes. So kind of them to have a spot for the poor people. Sable, about to become much poorer, sidles up to the new display and squints at the ring. "C'n I, like…" she glances to Remi, like she works here - really she just views the Frenchwoman as her docent, a guide in a strange land, "take a closer look at it?"
The redhead smiles warmly to Sable, offering a slow not toward the woman. "Oui. Zat is 'ow I see it, at least. And 'ow I teach it." She smiles softly, brushing a bit of stray hair away from her eyes. "Ze opening day for Swan Lake is March 18th, oui? I will get some tickets for you." She chuckles softly, seeming to brush off the attempt to add a bit of French into her words. But inwardly, she twitches a little.
As Sable requests assistance, Remi smiles to her, before glancing toward the attendant, gesturing for the woman to join them. Then, she points out the ring in question, and the woman promptly pulls it out to show the two women. Remi will do her shopping when she's done helping the poor yellow-eyed woman out.
Rough manners, certainly, and more swagger than her petite frame should be able to reasonably support, Sable has the decency still to look both grateful and enthusiastic at the promise of tickets. "I'll be there, doll. Gimme as many tickets as y' c'n spare. I'll bring a whole bevy 'f wayward souls back t' th' illuminatin' type light 'f high culture."
Once the ring is out from behind glass Sable leans in to give it a close look, lowering her head to get it at new angles. "It's fuckin' lovely," she says, profanity a sign of respect, an intensifier generally, with nuances only in tones, "but… does it mebbe look too much like a, like, engagement-type ring?" She gives Remi a crooked smile. "I love th' gal, but I got a feelin' that'd scare her 'way."
"Oui, I will do so." The woman laughs softly, nodding toward Sable. She'll probably be able to swing four of them for that night. Any more would probably be pushing it. "I'm glad to 'ear zat you are interested in Ballet!" The woman offers a soft chuckle, running a hand through her hair as she watches Sable with a thoughtful expression. The redhead, herself, is difficult to read. She's got an amazing poker face. Kind of have to, to be a ballet dancer.
"Mmm." A glance is offered to the attendant, who smiles gratefully, producing a much less extravagant ring, this one with tiny emeralds lined along the bands. It's also much cheaper than the one with diamonds in it. "Oui, I can understand zat." Remi smiles over to Sable.
Sable, on the other hand, would make a terrible poker player. Alternately blustering and scowling, crowing or fuming, she'd give away each and every hand in the sheer excitement of play. And this new ring, it seems to delight her. "I know th' other one's a sight fairer," she says, "but I only jus' moved in," she tuts, then smiles sidelong at Remi, "thanks f'r this, hon. Yeah," she points at the ring, nodding to the attendant, "I'll take that 'n'. Gift wrap it, if y' would." She turns towards Remi, dipping her head, "real glad we stumbled 'cross. Dunno how it is y' know my near 'n' dear, but I trust I'll see more 'f y', eh?"
Dancing on the tips of your toes isn't the most comfortable venture in the world. Especially in Russian-style pointe shoes, which have a much more narrow toe. Remi trained all of her life to dance on her toes without flinching. Thus…that perfect poker face of hers. She could probably enter an acting career extremely easily, if she wanted to. "I understand, oui." She chuckles softly. "Zere is a message zat you are putting across, and you need ze correct piece of jewelry to make zat statement, oui?" The redhead chuckles. "Oui, I am sure zat you will see more of me."
"No lie, ma chérie," double wince, "it's all 'bout communication. Messages, vibes, talkin' with touches. Y'all know what I'm talkin' 'bout," Sable gives a steady, conspiratorial nod, like yeah, yeah, Remi and she are on the same page, sharing some semi-secret understanding. She lifts a hand and tips an invisible hat at the Frenchwoman. "Y'all gimme a call sometime, we'll hook them tickets up. Mebbe y'all c'n come by, say hi t' my gal 'n' 'er kid." She thumbs towards the attendant, diligently packaging the ring, "I'ma gonna pay f'r this, honest-like. Y'all buy yerself somethin' beautiful, hon. Wear it next I see y', eh?"
A charming smile greets that horrible butchering of her native tongue. Seriously, she should be the only one who butchers the languages of others with her occasional additions of words from her native French tongue! But she says nothing, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and offering a small, casual courtsey to Sable. "Oui, I intend to do just zat. I'll be certain to show you what I decide on ze next time we meet."
With one more gentle smile, Remi then turns, making her way toward the more expensive counters. Diamonds are her favorites. They capture all of the light and sparkle.