Participants:
| Scene Title | Never Be Alone |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Despite a purported wish for solitude, Quinn keeps Sable company. |
| Date | June 26, 2010 |
Sable's digs.
The fifth floor of Gun Hill was someplace Quinn had become accustomed to hearing music at between Sable and Magnes' apartments both being on Gun Hill's top floor. This fact also made her wish she'd picked Colette's place to store her things, but it was likely much too crowded there. Still, It was no surprise to her as she rounded up the steps that she heard music playing decided from Sable's apartment. An eyebrow arched, Quinn slips her hands in her pockets. As she approaches. Of course, the door is open, but she knocks anyway, at least to announce her arrival."Hey, Sable!" Well, and that makes a good announcement too.”
Sable is on her bed, as she is wont to be at most times when she's not darting around up to something or other, surrounding by a scattering of pages, most marked with those weird assemblages of linked words she constructs when writing a song. There's something not unlike a loopy conspiracy theorist about her, without a musical context to ground her. Quick motions of her eyes, furious scribblings, loopings and connections…
Quinn's arrival breaks her concentration, however, and Sable lights up upon seeing her in the doorway. "Come on in, hon. And as th' house is a-rockin', y' can dispense with th' knockin'." Her grin flashes. "Didja take yer spoils from last night yet, hon?"
"Sorta. Elaine an' I have been hanging out all day, she's insisting on it." Quinn gives a shrug. "I just wanted to give t' charity. And beat out Magnes." A wry grin crosses her face, and hands move to the pockets of her skirt. "I was looking for you this morning. I'm all moved in now. Well, except for all this crap," she remarks witha sweep of her hand back out to her belongings.”
Sable arches a brow, "C'n I get t' yer room by fire escape?" she asks, that being the most crucial question in her mind at this moment. She scoots to the edge of the bed, pushing aside her work in progress and sticking her legs over lip of the mattress.
"I think so? I didn't check, but it's a few below this one. 403, so I'd figure so." She quirks an eyebrow at Sable, a curious expression on her face. "I'm a bit scared to ask why. Not plannin' on stopping by in the middle of the night, I hope."”
"Well, how's about this, hon?" Sable says, cricking her neck, "Y' leave some telltale object 'r, like, sign on yer windowsill, tells me when it's safe t' poke my nose in. I'll respect such an arrangement, y' need have no fear. Now…" she squints, "Not t' be a pot speakin' of a kettle's blackess, but what's all this with th' English chick? Y'know," she lifts her brows, "Th' one that shelled out f'r y'?"
Quinn frowns, quirking an eyebrow. "Ygraine? What about her?" She reaches up, and scratches the back of her head, hair running it's length after a moment.
"See, that's what I'm askin'," Sable says, tapping the side of her nose, "If not thick as thieves, hon, y' were at least tendin' towards trouble," she wrinkles her nose, "I know yer fuckin' guarded as hell over this sorta thing, with yer 'doin' somethin' with someone's 'n' yer 'friends' that yer 'seein''. 'n' I'll lay off if y' insist, but, comon' now," she lowers her head, looking up through Quinn through batted lashes, a ridiculous imitation of girlish charm, "Y' don't have t' hide nothin' from little ol' me."
"Sable, you scare me when you do that," Quinn remarks with a pointed finger. Arms cross across her midsection, and she lets out a bit of a sigh, one hand scratching at the opposite arm. "I- she's a friend, and we've been gettin' together a lot lately. I'm kinda surprised you're so focused on it, to be honest."
Sable rolls her eyes, "Fuckin' fine," she says, "Y' have it yer way again. Drive me up a goddamn wall!" she gives a small smile, "I love you still, don't you worry though." She gives a small sniff, a indication that she's maybe a little uncomfortable. The suggestion that she's somehow oddly focusing is, perhaps, a little too close to the mark. "I take an interest in the associations 'f, like, my comrades in arms 'n' all. Y' c'n surely call it nosey, but I prefer it thought t' be, like, interest 'n' concern." She pauses. "She's a fine lookin' thing," is her footnote. Just a observation.
"I don't disagree with that," Quinn remarks with a grin. "Surprised me the other night by knowin' more about music that I thought. She's good people, though. I'm sure Elaine'll say the same thing, whenever they get together."
Sable's smile spreads from ear to ear, "'n' what a night, huh? Bless yer heart, but if you weren't everythin' t' everyone last evenin'! Running the whole goddamn event, 'n' still fuckin' precise as a heat seekin' missile when it came time t' play. We did good f'r ourselves, I figure. I ain't keen t' get famous f'r being a goth cover band 'r nothin', but it showed people what we were made of, 'n' that's a fuckin' start."
"I wouldn't mind keepin' a few of those songs around. They keep me busy." Quinn snickers, and then shrugs. "I didn't run the auction, that was all Melissa," she remarks as if to disprove Sable. "People seemed to enjoy it. I didn't really get t' ask anyone later, but the reception was good enough for me."
"I got everythin' I could possibly fuckin' ask f'r outta that evenin'," Sable says, closing her eyes and smiling like a canary-fed cat. "Bein' wholly straightforward and dispensin' with, like, any sort of pose," her eyes open again, though the feline impression doesn't change, "That was m' first gig so big."
"An' what about the girl who got you? Quinn suddenly turns the table around as she remembers last night a bit better. "What's her deal? Or do I get t' know?"
Sable gives a small, unmistakably mischievous laugh, tugging her legs up back onto the bed and clasping her crossed ankles. "She's a gal I threw a snowball at, back b'fore the cold got properly killer. But y' know how these things go, eh? First it's fightin' in the snow, then it's warmin' up from the snow, then…" she gives a shrug, helpless. What's a girl to do? "'course," she adds, smile replaced by a straight-talking expression, "That's all over 'n' done with, now. Keepin' my sights clear, 'n' all."
Quinn gives the girl a quizzical look, even as she begins to sway back and forth on her heels. "Really, she's not the one you were talkin' about just being the one? I'm kinda surprised, she was cute."
"She is, isn't she?" Sable agrees pleasantly, "So you c'n figure I didn't think it could get better 'n' all, and then you came along. I'm a lucky bitch, eh?" She shakes her head, "Naw, I had t' let her down. That," she grimaces, "As y' c'n likely imagine, didn't make me feel to fuckin' good 'bout m'self."
"Heh," is Quinn's only initial response, and then a shrug. "Hope you didn't beat yourself up too bad over it. Still, she seems nice. I wouldn't forget about her," Quinn remarks with a wink, and then laughs. A sigh escapes her lips and then another shrug. "So, just playin'? Or working on something? I heard from Elaine you're workin' on another song."
Sable quirks her mouth to one side, "Dunno," she says, "I think mebbe it's smart t' be wary 'f bourgie chicks," she pauses, "Not that I should be makin' any resolutions, considerin' my current romantic, like, preoccupation 'n' her, like, pretty much resplendent digs," she squints, "But 't least she's an orphan 'n' all." Sable's attention is directed again at her work in progress. She laughs, sweeping a spot on the bed clear and patting it, "Stay a fuckin' while," she suggests, "I am at that, too. Just somethin' I'm doin' f'r myself, to put my mind at ease 'bout something. Y' know how I am. Things need a, like, proper close."
Quinn pulls her phone out of her pocket, eyeing it for a moment. "I can stay for a bit. Supposed t' meet Elaine for drinks before too long, and I wanna get some of my stuff moved." A nod follows, and she plops down on the bed next to Sable. "Also, bourgie?"
Sable tugs her legs around so she can face Quinn. She nods. "It's a word I picked up in Boston, 'bout th' same time I started tryin' t' kick m' accent," she wrinkles her nose, "Which, 's mebbe y' can tell, has come back with somethin' like a vengeance," she grins, "T' get a girl, 'f course. Same girl I learned that word from. Means, like… I dunno. Not rich. Not just, like, rich. But…" a pause, "Middle class. 'cept somethin' else too. Y'd have t' ask her, really. I just sort 'f have a feelin' 'bout what it means. Clean. Pretty. Live in houses. Go t' college. Shit like that. Bourgie."
Quinn blinks, tilting her head. The word had sounded familiar to her, but even with the explaination and the fact she learned it in Boston, she couldn't remember hearing it before meeting Sable. "Ah. Weird I've never heard it before," she observes, and then shrugs. "You've said it a few time, so I was curious. Seems kinda odd. I know I'm several 'a those. Particularly pretty," she remarks with a laugh. Then an eyebrow quirks, followed by a furrowing of her brow as she thinks of something. "Wait, you know… is that why you keep askin' about Ygraine?" She kinda hopes so, otherwise she's just volunteered more than she meant to.
Sable jabs a finger at Quinn, poking her in the shoulder, "Leave th' flattery t' me," she says, "That's my fuckin' job!" She leans back, hands going out to support her. "Speakin' of which, but y' better be careful dressin' so well as y' did last night. Make a habit 'f lookin' so temptin' and y'll be doin' a disservice t' yer friend who's tryin' her best t' keep on a clear 'n' virtuous path." Not that she sounds the least bit upset. In fact, she's smiling. The mention of Ygraine causes a brow to lift, however. "Y' think I think she's a bourg?" she asks, "Honest, I don't know what t' think. But yeah, with her chatterin' away in French, 'n' sportin' that fancy accent - not that I've the first thing 'gainst fair things from across th' sea - it certainly fuckin' occured t' me."
Quinn blushes a little, but then snorts to counter act it. "Better not come t' Tartarus when I'm working, then. I think that an' things like it are more or less going to become my uniform." She looks down at herself, grinning. "Which is something I never would have expected. It's not to bad, really."
And then she rolls her shoulders into a shrug. "Well, she's not so bad, trust me. I just- you seemed curious boardin' on worryin' me or… something. That's not quite right."
Sable waves a dismissive hand, though this change in balance nearly makes her fall off the bed and she has to cling to the covers to stay stable. She grins stupidly, and gets herself steady before speaking. "Oh, hon, I don't worry 'bout you and bourgie chicks. 'nless you start becomin' a square, 'n' I don't get th' sense that Ygraine's a square, whatever the hell she might be otherwise," her smile goes sly, "However, y' have just suggested, hon, that there may've been reason f'r me t' think y've something in mind with her, eh? I don't have doubts 'bout befriendin' bourgies," she dips her head, "But I ain't gonna pry, don't worry," she closes her eyes, smiling with wicked bliss, "I'm just gonna sit here, 'n' imagine th' two 'f you locked in a passionate embrace. There. Aw, now that's just beautiful. Don't you mind me, now…" It's all Sable can do not to crack open an eye and catch Quinn's reaction to her teasing.
Quinn rolls her eyes, laughing. She is not, however, without a blush for whatever reason. "Oh, cut that out. You're gonna put in my head if you don't." And then another shrug. "She's a good friend, and I think she'll be comin' around a lot. Colette knows her too, you know. That was how we met, was lookin' for Colette." And then a wry grin. "And if I become a square, I think there are much, much bigger problems at hand, you know?"
Sable's eyes open right quick, catching the blush in action. She extends a foot and pokes Quinn in the side with socked toes. "Arright, then," she says, "Then I'll see a fair bit of 'er, see if I c'n form a favorable kinda impression 'f her. Not that I think any ill 'f her. Just left uncertain, 'n' I have trouble dealin' with not bein' able t' get a read on folks. Old habits," she claims to have a lot of those, it seems, despite her age, "And I've little fear of you goin' square, though if any'll do it, it's a lover. I don't ask y' to promise no-Yoko, y'know? Cuz from what I hear those two were in love 's deep as c'n be notioned. But nothin' less than that c'n get in our way, y' dig? Yer in for the long ride t' the top with me."
Quinn nods enthusiastically, giving a pair of thumbs up. "Sounds like a plan, I say. No place I'd rather be headed." She leans forward, head propped on her palm. "So. What's up?"
"I've got a ton of shit t' do, t' tell y' the truth," Sable says, starting to tic off fingers, "I gotta finish adaptin' this blues number so it'll mingle with this, like, other song - that's th' thing Elaine toldja 'bout, I'm pretty sure. 'n' I gotta check with someone t' makes sure playin' that song ain't gonna be taken the wrong way 'r nothin', which is gonna be odd f'r me as I don't usually worry 'bout anyone's say-so in such matters. 'n' I need t' find a proper place f'r me t' send off what's left 'f ol' Adelaide, now that I've finished up mournin' her passing in, like, solemn contemplation 'f 'er remains. And I gotta start huntin' down all sorts of folks f'r this task Colette set me 'n' I was fool enough, 'f course 'n' allways, t' agree t'."
"You still haven't finished with you old guitar?" Quinn remarks with a tilt of her head, a surprised look on her face. "That'd seemed pretty important t' you, I'm amazed you haven't handled it yet." Hands slip into her pockets, but her remains tilted. This time, her eyes narrow. "Who's teh song for, if you don't mind me askin'?"
"Ah, but that's just why it's gotta be just right, y'know?" Sable says, "'n'… well, it's fuckin' hard y'know? Sayin' goodbye," she rubs her nose with the back of her hand, as if her rising sentiment were a troublesome cold. The next question puts it right out of her head, though. It's easy to talk in vagaries - actual naming of names she finds much harder. "Uh…" she begins, shrugging as dismissively as she can manage -the effect is unconvincing, "Colette," she admits, eyes moving to some invisible point to the side, beneath the floor. That's all she says for a moment. When she speaks again, her words are accompanied by a furrowed brow. "Been thinkin' on her a fair bit lately. Not like how I used to, though. Mebbe I'm makin' up f'r all that, cuz some thoughts are mebbe a sight unkind or, like, moved by some sorta hurt I still feel. But this…" her eyes lift again, finding Quinn's through a feat of some courage, "This'll set it t' rest. Assumin' it's given th' go-ahead."
Quinn gives a slow nod as she listen, and then pauses, as if a crayon in her head has only now set to connecting some dots. "Colette?" And then a beat. "Oh. Oh! Jesus, I didn't even realise. That's why-" And then she just zips her lips, shrugging. "Whatever you've got t' go. I still don't know her that well, so I can't say either way. I'm still half convinced she's… mad at me about somethin' I don't know about yet. Or that I can… bleh."
Oh no, she doesn't get off that easy. Not after that little confession. Sable's gaze is sharp. "Don't fuck with me, hon. That's why th' fuck what?"
Quinn grimaces, scratching the back of her neck, looking briefly uncomfortable. "When y' told me my hair reminded you of someone, you said the same of my ability an' all. I never really realised who you meant until now."
Sable gives a small snort, but she's smiling now, if wryly. "Unfair t' you, hon," she says, "Yer kinder by far than she. When I said th' gal's a wolf, I meant it. Whatever ill will y' feel she carries for y', know that it's all just in her own mind, 'n' she'll likely get over it soon enough. She 'n' I are far too fuckin' similar in all sorts of ways, not least our appetites 'n' our mixed up fuckin' heads. Biggest difference b'tween us is that I know what I am, and seek t' repair it m'self. She looks t' other t' mend her, 'n' that's never once worked when sought by those that are broken."
Quinn remains silent, continuing to rub behind her head f ra moment, before slipping off her shoes and slipping more solidly on to the bed. She just gives a silent shrug, head tilted at Sable.
Sable's smile shifts from wry to apologetic, and she scoots up closer to Quinn, reaching out to place a hand on her upper arm, giving it a small squeeze. "Sorry, hon," she says, "Y' came in here t' get yer shit, not help me carry all 'f mine."
You paged Delilah with ‘Hey there. How loopy are you feeling?’
That causes Quinn to pop a grin again. "It's not like I mind, Sable. I like knowin' people can trust me with their things. I just don't always have something to say in response, you know? Lsitenin', not really talking."
Sable gives a laugh at this. "Well, y' can imagine what a foreign goddamn concept being quiet has got t' be f'r me, eh?" Though, as soon as its said, she lapses into silence, returning Quinn's gaze thoughtfully. At length, as always, she breaks her own silence. "I really fuckin' like you, y'know that? I mean, yer my comrade, 'f course. 'n' I'd wish to count no fondness as surpassin' that which I feel f'r Magnes. But he's a creature apart, 'n' I care for him as such. You, hon…" she shakes her head, "You I just really fuckin' like," her head tilts, "I ain't entirely used t' it. Feelin' so 'n' not permittin' it t' carry me off."
"Sable," Quinn remarks, quirking her lips side to side. "You worry me when y' start on with all of this stuff." She sits up a bit, arms crossed around her midsection. "I thought we were getting past all of this." A pause. "I'm gettin' past all this. No offense. But I'm not riskin' messing things up, you know? You're a really fun and adventurous person t' be around. And the band, you know?"
Sable pulls a face, like she just bit down on something rotten, though the rottenness is really her own words on a second chew. "Naw, naw," she says, "Jesus. I ain't…" she rubs her forehead, "I have a difficult time, y' see, not puttin' things a certain way. What I'm tryin' to express here is… like… kinda like what you just said, only if I wasn't such a fuckin' mess. What I mean is just that, hon. That I like you enough that it'd usually lead t' me pushin' f'r more, but that, like… it doesn't cause me pain not t', y' dig?"
She gives a very crooked smile, "What I'm tryin' to say is that I ain't usually that good 't bein' friends with a gal I like 's much as you, but that it's turnin' out such that I… like… can. With you, I can. I feel that warmth," she sets her hand to her chest, "Fillin' me up. But I don't feel that pain," she taps her stomach, "Tearin' away at me, that awful fuckin' longin'." She sets both her hands on her knees. "'n' I like it. I like feelin' love without bein' in love. I like that I c'n love y' without bein' yer lover. There ain't nothin' I'd be willin' t' let happen such that it'd fuck that up."
"I'm sayin'," Sable says, "With what limited fuckin' means I have t' say it, that yer a friend such as I've never had b'fore," she lifts her chin, imperious, "'n' I won't fuckin' tarnish anythin' I said by addin' anythin' crude 'r sly 'r nothin'." This last she's clearly quite proud of herself for.
Quinn blushes a bit, having clearly though more of herself than intended. "Ah, well…. I'm glad, Sable. You're a wonderful friend t' have too," she replies with a warm smile, reaching out to ruffle the shorter girl's hair. It's nice too have someone so headstrong around, t' give me lessons."
Sable wrinkles her nose as she's ruffled, putting up the minimal veneer of disgruntlement, entirely betrayed by the smile that creeps back onto her lips in moments. "What sort 'f lessons? Lessons on what t' do, or what not t'?"
"Both. Not that you're tryin' for all of them," Quinn is quick to reply, laughing. "I you gave me the advice to be more headstrong and dive int' things, remember? That's a start."
Sable nods, "Only way I've gotten any damn thing I've wanted in this life is t' either take it 'r make it," she says, "'n' has that lesson had, like, any particular practice," a beat, "That y' c'n fuckin' tell me about?" It's a good natured tease, though of course Sable wouldn't mind if Quinn felt that maybe she should spill on certain assumed unspoken details.
"Oh, god-" Quinn suddenly bursts to life, giggling as she leans forward to Sable. "Speaking of headstrong, did Elaine tell you Magnes tried to get the other day?" It's not an intentional dodge at the question, she really did just remember.
Sable leans forward to meet Quinn midway, immediately adopting a close, conspiratorial tone. "No, gal, y' didn't. Enlighten me."
Giggling some more, Quinn leans back, motioning with her hands as she talks. "So, I'm talkin' to Elaine, and- I guess he was asleep. But he walks out, not realising I'm there, and demands Elaine's…" A cough. "Attention. Then he put on pants and joined us for a few minutes right? So he gets ready to go, and he has the balls to just slip in, all casual like, that both us ladies can join him if we like!" And then Quinn just loses it, laughing heartily. "Elaine doesn't seem t' think he was joking either, is the best part."
Sable casts her eyes heavenward. "News, surely, but no surprise in my eyes," she says, "And even if that boy weren't hornier than a goddamn goat - which he surely is - I can't precisely judge 'im f'r the desire, though perhaps his fuckin' methods 'n', like, tact was somethin' lackin'."
"Ah, I wasn't trying to judge him. It was just rather hilarious. Can't say I'd take to the idea, despite joking otherwise, though." She grins as she talks, speaking with hand motions. "And I know I don't even need to ask you if you would." Another giggle, and an amused sigh.
"Only love do we feel, for certain, 'n' rightly so when it comes t' our comrades in arms," Sable says, with the tone of one producing an aphorism. She wrinkles her nose, "It'd take a hell 'f a girl t' get me t' agree t' let a boy join in," a pause, "Not that it hasn't happened b'fore, but those were younger days b'fore I knew m'self a bit better."
Quinn snickers, and then shrugs. Gaze moves upwards, and a bit of hair is blown out of her face. "So. I think Elaine and I might be having some drinks later, probably in my place. Dangerous question, I'm sure, but would you like to come?" Perhaps that wasn't the best question to ask after the previous conversation. Oh well.
Normally this wouldn't even be a question that needed asking. Normally Quinn could just say 'you should come' or simply 'you're coming'. This time however, Sable squints. "Ain't you got a date with her, worth more th'n a thou?"
"Everyone seem quite hung up on that," Quinn remarks with a quirked eyebrow. "I wasn't the only one who shelled out, even though I'm gonna pay Ygraine back. I just figured it might be fun now that I'm all moved in. It's not like it's a real date. We just havin' fun today an' all." A pause, and a snicker. "Besides, if I have too much, I need someone to get between me and her in case I get al handsy."
Sable gives Quinn a disbelieving look. "Y're either a fool or a devil," she says, "For either y'r somehow ignorant 'f the words y' just used, or y' chose 'em on purpose."
Quinn tilts her head, looking a bit confused. "Well, I was mostly kidding, you know. It wasn't like I meant to… sound like a devil?" There's a distinctly questioning inflection in her voice. "I- am a bit confused now."
"A fool, then?" Sable says, grinning, the tease in her tone becoming more obvious - she's never quite able to keep it up. "A shame. I tend t' prefer the devilish."
"I hate you sometimes, you're well aware?" Quinn laughs, punching her friend in the shoulder playfully, though she does try and putlittle oomph behind it this time. "You haven't answered me, though."
Sable rubs the punched location, her grin only widening. "I don't believe that f'r a second. I believe yer heart overflows, hon," she snickers, "The harder y' hit, th' more I know yer just compensatin' f'r yer affection." Though, logically, that means Quinn could express fondness with a good sucker punch. "'n' yeah… guess I haven't. Guess… I dunno. I wanna, but I'm thinkin' mebbe of takin' some time t' sort through m' head b'fore I set about those fuckin' tasks I've got t' tend to." Her smile fades, and she frowns, "I dunno why I'd think such a thing. Never once have I regretted a moment spent with you 'n' her, much less when spirits 'r' flowin'. But mebbe I feel th' need f'r, like, serious thought, which ain't ever on the table when I'm with y'all."
Quinn's expression turns to one first of consternation, then of thoughtfulness. "If that's what you need t' do, Sable, then don't hesitate." A warm smile forms on her face, followed by a nod. "I didn't realise that it was giving you quite that much trouble." A pause, and wrinke of her nose. Shifting a bit, she thumbs towards the door. "I can head out, if I need to. It sounds right important that you get t' this."
"Aw, now, don't rush off 'r nothin'," Sable says, pretty quickly for how casual she'd surely like to sound, "'nless y're keepin' Elaine waitin' by lingerin' here. I'm in no rush t' enter solitude. I'm gettin' somethin' close t' unused t' it, truth be told."
"Solitude sucks", Quinn states simply and somewhat juvenilely. "I think Elaine's handling a few things of her own, so it's fine for a bit. "I'm curious, what made you get all like this," she inquires, using a finger to point up and down Sable.
Sable looks down at herself, trying to see what 'all like this' might refer to. She, of course, chooses to misinterpret the remark rather than take it seriously. "Though I've no use f'r my parents, they can be thanked f'r givin' me m' good looks."
Quinn sighs, face into palm. "I mean what made you so damn thoughtful all of a sudden, you sod." She laughs and shakes her head. "Don't be difficult, or I'l l take m' self out of here."
"Sod," Sable says, "I like that. Mebbe I'll start sayin' that. 'nless it's yer, like 'thing'. I don't wanna step on yer personal style 'r nothin'." But it's only for so long that she can dodge a direct question. She gives one of her sniffs. "Hell… I dunno. Things ain't never been quite as they are f'r me right now, 'cept I go about things as if they were as ever before. 'n' I dunno if that's gonna, like, work out or nothin'. Particularly considerin' th' fact I've never worried too much 'bout things workin' out as I always, like… move on."
"Personal style?" She smirks, and shakes her head. "You don't see much from back home, do you?" At that, she slips over next to Sable, an arm slung across her shoulder. A finger points at her, a more serious expression on her face. "Just so what y' need to do. But don't dwell so much on what makes you so upset. Or somethin'."
Sable regards Quinn from the corner of her eye, but at length she slips her arms around Quinn's waste and gives the other girl a hug. Her brow is knitted pretty tight now, as if the hug were causing her consternation. The fact is, it's quite the obverse. She's displaying her consternation only because of the comfort of contact. "I jus' wanna know where I stand, is all. I don't wanna be… things I don't wanna be." Eloquence itself.
"Where you stand with what? Me an' Colette? Or yourself?" She's not tyring to be deep, infact, the raised eyebrow belies any attempt at such.
"Mostly m'self," Sable says, easing out of the hug. Prolonged embraces tend to mean certain things for her, things she doesn't want to communicate. "You I don't worry 'bout, hon. I trust you." Which is to say, by way of exclusion, that she maybe doesn't trust herself. And maybe doesn't trust Colette either.
"Being honest with yourself can be hard," Quinn remarks, her gaze moving down to the bed for a moment. "Wish you the best in that and all." A smile, and she leans back, withdrawing her arm from around Sable. "I'm glad you trust me, though. That's always nice to hear."
"Worse, hon," Sable says, "What's really hard is knowin' if yer honesty is really honest." She gives Quinn a cuff on the very arm she just withdraw. "Pretty sure y' came in here with some fuckin' intention in mind, besides hearin' the woes of a woman who just fuckin' claimed t' have the best of fuckin' nights just the night b'fore."
"Just to grab some of my stuff, is all. And invite you t' join us, if you wanted. I was going to go yell at Magnes for being daft, but he's sleepin' at the moment." She snickers, and then sits forward a bit. "I'll get him soon enough, though."
"Well, y' should get goin' then," Sable says, jerking her head towards the door, "'bout time I started gettin' some work done, 'stead of bummin' about with a bad influence such as yerself!"
Quinn eye Sable for a moment before jumping up from the bed. Silent movement is made to one of her few remaining bins, hefted up with a grunt. "If you insist and all," she remarks, even as she turns back to the door. A pause, and she pivots around. "Bad influence or not, if y' need any help, or wanna talk, stop by." And with that, she vanishes back out the door.