Playing It Close


quinn_icon.gif sable_icon.gif

Scene Title Playing It Close
Synopsis Sable arrives to collect Quinn's vision, but conversation turns to other topics, as it always does.
Date June 30, 2010

Gun Hill - Quinn's Apartment

It's only been a few days, but assorted things already little the floor of Quinn's Gun Hill flat is already strewn with numerous things - some clothes, papers, a few CDs. The same decent clutter of last aparment, just far more spread out. Her black couch sits in the middle of the common room facing the window and rather large, though not exquisite TV, numerous DVDs and boxes piled along side it. A table sits adjacent to the kitchen area, but otherwise the common area is rather empty. Tour posters for The Delgados, Mogwai, and Oasis are hung on the wall next to a closed door, as if to indicate here be music. Adjacent is another door, half open and revealing several more boxes, CDs and notebooks spilling out, as well as a very simple bed.

She's no longer the hollowed out version of herself that slumped back home yesterday morning, but there is something a little dampened about Sable even now. Her usual frenetic intensity is missing, and even her saunter has less saunter and more just slouch as she muddles her way down the stairs and around the bend for her first proper call on Quinn's new, ever-so-close domestic situation. She's got her blue guitar slung behind her, but she also has a handheld digital camera held, as one might expect, in her hand. When she gets to 403, she lifts a hand and knocks on the door, three times, with her knuckles.

"'s me," is her self-heralding. She keeps it at that.

Unlike the more recent attempts to get her attention by knocking on her door, Sable's knocks are responded to almost immediately as Quinn swings the door open somewhat dramatically, breathing a bit heavy. She's wearing the same clothes she was the evening of the opening at Tartarus, and seeing Sable, she quirks an eyebrow.

"Hey! I'm just gettin' ready for work a bit early. What's up?"

The gothique getup earns Quinn a quick once-over, though it's more out of surprise than desire. Quick means very quick. Within a second, Sable has looped her arms around Quinn in an impromptu and slightly uncharacteristic hug, the shorter girl's cheek pressed to the taller's chest. Quinn can feel the camera poking against back a bit, but the feeling disappears as Sable eases up and steps back. Her yellow eyes look tired. "You look fine, hon," she says, "Fuckin' fantastic. C'n I come in? Got a favor t' ask, though I pledge it's a small 'n' mighty quick one."

Quinn is visibly surprised by the hug, even as she finally goes to put her own arms around Sable, the shorter girl is already pulling away. "Uh, yeah, of course!" Even as she speaks, Quinn slips back into her room, pivoting and making her way over to her couch. Boots lie at the floor, waiting to be put on. "Everything fine? There seems t' be a few cases of gloominess goin' around, I'm thinking I need to put an end to it before it gets too bad."

Sable gives the place a gander, and whatever it is she sees in what she sees brings a smile to her face. Well, it's simple really. What she sees in this place is Quinn. "Nice setup. Y' put me t' shame," she says, "My place is such a fuckin' hole. Ain't no way I c'n bring anyone back t' it. Natural mood killer." She makes her way to the couch as well, pausing to set the guitar leaning against the arm, and settling into the corner. "Don't you worry 'bout me, hon. Few sorrows in this world that seein' you can't cure me of." Which is all she's saying on the subjec for the moment. She pats the side of the camera. "Tasked, as I toldja, t' gather people speakin' of what they saw the day ol' Adelaide passed on. I'd be mighty grateful if y'd tell this here thing what you told me, in whatever detail y' feel comfortable. 's a favor f'r Colette. Important t' her, from what I c'n tell. So, here I am, tryin' to do my duty 'n' all."

"Your place isn't so bad. Needs a bit more though. Maybe you can inherit Colette and Tasha's lawn furniture?" Quinn smirks at her own joke, and then looks up with curious eyes. A boot in hand, she begins to slide it on. "I… guess so. Is Colette makin' some kind of video of them for, like, the internet or something?"

"Mebbe," is Sable's rather brief reply - she's not usually so reticent, not unless there's an obvious bee in her bonnet, but right now, more than anything else, she seems tired. "Dunno," is her answer to the following questio, and a true one. She actives the device and tugs out the display screen so she can use it without lifting it to her eye like some oldschool filmer. "Won't take long. Just tell me when yer ready, 'n' I'll start this sucker up."

The other boot slips on a foot, Quinn leaning back comfortably in her seat, eyes narrowed. "I'm ready when you are…" She waits for a signal and then leans forward. "So, the… visions, right? I saw, like… I was running through a hallway, carrying my violin case, a paper, and uh… a flashlight." Well, no really, but better to be cautious. "It was on fire, heat an' flames everywhere. I was just about t' get out when I tripped, fell. Think I broke my arm, and my violin went slidin' on out. Probably would have died, part of the ceiling started to give. Some woman stepped in and kept it from falling while I started to get up." A pause, and a sigh. "And that's really it, I think. That good, Sable?"

Sable keeps the camera trained on Quinn, recording her recitation with a steady hand and clear concentration, as if the camera needs her help to get all this down. When Quinn finishes, Sable flicks the camera off, and nods. "Better be," she says, "I don't wanna have t' make y' go through that again. Colette c'n very fuckin' well ask y' f'r details herself if she needs t'. It's her deal. I'm just the sucker, eh?" She sets the camera on her lap and leans forward a bit. "So how're you doin', hon? I won't keep y', of course, but well," she smiles, "Can't blame a girl f'r wantin' t' know how a dear friend is holdin' up, eh?"

"I… things have been pretty good, I guess." The way she's beaming seems to indicate that's an understatement. "Been having a lot of fun at work, and been hanging out with Elaine and Ygraine a lot lately. Working on some songs and soundproofing the spare room." She tilts her head, regarding Sable with a quizzical look. "And you?"

That's a hard question, especially in the face of a glowing good cheer Sable has no wish to dampen. "As they tend t' be with me," is her decided reply, "Some breed 'f madness, mostly 'f my own makin'. But I figure I'm on th' other side 'f it mostly. Tryin' to see if I c'n shake up m' influences a bit." She means musically. "Glad t' hear you're doin' so fine, hon. 'n' know I'm here t' speak to on matters fair and foul both, arright?"

"Well, yeah, Sable. Why wouldn't I think that?" The mention of shaking up influences makes a look of thoughtfulness cross Quinn's face, eyeing Sable carefully. "Wanna help me work on a song. Maybe not right this moment, but soon? I helped you with yours, after all. Seems fair."

"Mebbe 'cause 'm often awful wrapped up in my own fuckin' things," Sable says, a touch of self-directed bitterness in her voice, an unusual inflection, "Such that I try 'n' wrap others up in it, heedless 'n' all." Quinn's suggestion causes her to perk up noticeably, however. "Yeah. I'd take t' that."

"Awesome!" Quinn enthuses, hopping up from her seat. "I've beent ryin' to write some happier stuff lately, to record. I've been working on soundproofing my spare room, I'm hopin' it works out. Got a mic and my computer in there. Thinkin' of turning it into a makeshift studio, you know?"

Sable's eyes follow Quinn as she rises, though she herself stays put for the moment. "Jesus," she says, "This is why we need y' around, hon. I mean, one 'f the many fuckin' reasons, t' be fair. I dunno how y' can have such drive, yet coast on such an even keel 'n' all. I admire it, honest. I admire you, hon. Honest." The frankness of this, what should it be called? Confession? Opinion? Assertion? Whatever it is, it's delivered with a soft urgency. Like it's something she has to say, before the thought evaporates.

"I… don't follow," Quinn confesses with a raised eyebrow. A little bit of a blush does cross on her face. "It's not really drive, I guess. Music's all I really know, besides books. So I try t' do as much of it as possible. And someone told me recently I shouldn't squander that, so I'm trying not to, you know?" That admittance that she's admired brings mixed feelings up in Quinn, causing her to visibly quirks her lips side to side.

Sable notes the blush, the quirk, and her head tilts to one side as she peers up at Quinn. She clambers to her feet, letting the camera fall into the corner she vacates, and steps up to Quinn. "'n' yer bein' so humble is somethin', also, I admire 'n' stand in amazement of," she says, with that same almost-urgency, "I… I dunno," she says, faltering somewhat, eyes dropping, "I'm tryin' to be a touch better than I've been. T', like, mebbe better deserve th' luck I've f'r no goddamn known reason seem t' have stumbled into. Knowin' you. Knowin' others." Her eyes lift to Quinn's again. "I'm poor at actin' graceful 'bout it, though. So, like, sorry if it seems mebbe a little strange."

"I-" Quinn sighs, scratching the back of her head. "I think you're seein' something I'm not aiming for, Sable. But I don't think you've been unkind or anything. Why, does someone think you've needed t' change your luck or something?" She may not understand exactly what Sable means.

"What we aim at 'n' what we're headin' f'r 'r' often placed apart by no small fuckin' distance," Sable says, her hands coming to clasp behind her, "'n' it ain't my luck I'm tryin' t' change. M' luck's been much too good by half. It's my bein' deservin' 'f it all. 'n' it's me that thanks that. Though I had t' see it in others first, as is almost always th' case, eh?"

Quinn frowns a bit, and after a moment she takes several steps forward and wraps her arms around Quinn in a hug, smiling. "I don't know everyone else says you've done, but I think you're right fine, myself."

Sable's pretty goddamn ready for that embrace. Her arms wrap around Quinn tightly, and it's about the most grateful and maybe even needy touch the taller girl has ever received from Sable. Some sort of levy has broken. Sable, usually allergic to sentiment, seems like she might actually want to be held right now. She doesn't give a verbal answer, remaining quite quiet, all volumes spoken through her body.

The gesture lingers for several moments, minutes really, before Quinn backs away a puts a quick peck on Sable's forehead. "You know if somethin's really bothering you, we can talk about it, right? Some seem kinda off tonight." As an understatement.

There's enough grounding to the hug that Sable only needs those minutes to regain herself. And the loss itself was precipitated by Quinn's embrace in the first place. What she needed she needed most only after receiving it. Her eyes are maybe just a little ringed with red. Not tears, God no, never tears. But she does sniff a bit. "I got real badly fucked up, night b'fore last," she admits, "'n' I'm real fuckin' unsure 'f m'self, which, like… sureness 'f m'self is basically all I've ever got, 'cept now I have you 'n' Magnes 'n' Elaine 'n' all. But I'm still gettin' used t' all that."

“To what? Havin' friends t' talk to?" The question is asked in a mix of mock disbelief, and teasing. "Why are you so unsure of youself?" Even as she asks the question, Quinn's plopping back down on the couch, patting gently for Sable to slide over, if she wishes. "I feel like I've really missed something."”

Sable doesn't hesitate before plopping down right next to Quinn. There's a moment of uncertainty in her eyes, and then she loops her arms about Quinn in a hug. Fine. She'll just give in, accept that right now, she needs to be a bit… whatever this is. She doesn't want to call it weak, because she sort of likes it in other girls. But she likes it because it's advantageous. Quinn, she's sure, isn't after an angle. Because she's not a goddamn shark.

"Fuckin'… arright. I… it's sort 'f hard t' know where t' start 'r anythin', but mostly it's just like… I had some like, various, realizations 'bout…" goddamn she wants to be vague right now, "'bout my old feelin's and dealin's with Colette. 'n' I'm just like, so fuckin' done with it. She's poison f'r one such as me. Poison f'r herself too, I think, 'n' f'r others, but I dunno anymore what's really there 'n' what's m' own poison. But I wanted, still want, t' close it with somethin' like a little dignity and decency. 'n' I tried t' talk to ol' Tasha 'bout it, but b'fore I could it turned into this fuckin' awful fight, where I was… I was honest, eh? But y' know how some honest can be used as, like, a whip? So did I use my honesty, without thinkin', f'r the purpose of hurtin' a gal who's done me no wrong at all. 'n' so now… I figure, if that's the sort 'f person I am, th'n mebbe it's time t' be a new sort 'f person."

Quinn listens with quiet concentration, brow furrowed as she listens to Sable, occasionally giving a surprised blink, or wrinkling her nose. "it sounds like you might have some bridges t' men, Sable, but I guess you know that. I don't know about becomin' a new sort of person, though. Just… think more, next time." She sits up, cocking an eyebrow. "I had t' tell Magnes the same thing the other day too. Think."

Sable actually laughs at this, incongruous only if you don't recall laughter is oftentimes a better path for pain. Plus it warms her heart to hear of Magnes, one of the few people on earth she can feel uncomplicated about. "Jesus, what sort of fuckin' madhouse 'f a band did you join up with, huh?" she says, "Yer our better sense arright. Magnes bein' our heart. Though I wonder what that makes me?"

Quinn quickly reaches up, poking Sable's temple repeatedly. "Our incredible musical feckin' genius. The brains." She smiles wide at that, recalling Sable's own description of herself.

Which only makes Sable laugh again, harder, giving Quinn a tight squeeze around the middle. "Ain't that the fuckin' truth!" she cackles, "Bless you f'r remindin' me, hon. Bless you twice over f'r endurin' my weepy fuckin' bullshit and lost soul crap," she gives a sigh, letting out the tightness and strangeness that had crept over her, "Though I'm serious, I'm changin' my influences. Townshend's my highest, but I need a break from 5:15 'n' all that."

"I know I've told you I don't mind. If I haven't, then… there you go. If you have anythin' to get off your chest, I don't mind hearing." Her gaze focuses on Sable. "Seriously, anything. If you need help, let me know. Please."

Dammit, Quinn has to stay serious when Sable was getting so very ready to laugh it all off. Sable disentangles herself from Quinn and sets her hands on her knees, giving the other girl a very steady look. "I solemnly pledge t' burden y' with all my stupid fuckin' woes just 's soon as I get th' chance t'," she says, but she's not done, "On the one condition, hon, that you fuckin' play yer cards less close t' yer chest, however much they may appreciate th' proximity."

"I've been playing it close?" Quinn tilts her head, sounding genuine surprised. "Not really, intentionally, but I guess so. But good. I want you t' vent at me if you need to." A confident nod, and Quinn punches Sable's arm. "So, was there anythin' else you wanted to talk about?"

"Y' ain't that dim," Sable says, squinting at Quinn, "In fact, y' ain't dim at all. So I wonder how it is y' c'n be blind t' the way y' dance 'round some 'f my questions. But mebbe I asked wrong, is all. So I'm askin', now, as one who's told y' 'bout the meanness 'n' the pain I've felt over a gal I'm tryin' now my best t' f'rget… what the hell's yer story, hon? I mean," she cracks a grin, "What y've done t' me, as my body yet remembers and I doubt will soon let fade, ain't th' work 'f no first timer. No matter how talented… though talented for certain."

"My… story?" Quinn's head tilts a bit further. "You're asking about my love life?" It seems a bit surprising to her, enough so that she feels the need to double check.

Sable's face lights up in a grin. Which is much more like her. "'n' with not a detailed spared!" she confirms. At least she's not asking for any reenactments…

"That's… Jesus. Um, alright…" She rubs the back of her head, looking downwards a bit nervous. "Full disclosure, right? Well…" Quinn wrinkles her nose, and exhales sharply. "My love life didn't really begin until near t' end of high school. I… tried to have a boyfriend. But I met his sister, and… I bet you can figure out where it went from there, right?" She chuckles, and shrugs. "It didn't really last long, though. We slept together, and then she moved an' I met another girl. She was the one I moved t' New York with."

Her gaze narrows a bit, looking at Sable with pensiveness before she continues. "She was m' roommate. The one I mentioned in those pictures, you know? We did well for about a year, but there was a bit of friction… I honestly don't recall over what. We broke up, but stayed roommates." She grows quiet for a moment, eyes shifting to the side. "Did I tell you why I don't have a roommate anymore?"

Sable, for all her rapacity and grinning, lapses into an attentive silence as Quinn relates the tale. First loves (if loves they are to be called) are almost always of note, and almost always tinged with some sadness. Still, as Quinn bids Sable to figure out what the mention of a sister must mean, she does smirk a little. Sable thinks that's sort of badass. What a goofball that poor guy must have felt like… if he ever found out.

She's like to ask, but the story carries on, and Sable has zero desire to interrupt now that she's finally gotten Quinn talking. The question, though, demands a response. Sable shakes her head, and says only: "Go on, hon."

"Well, like… I thought I told you this? She went to a party in Manhattan a few years back. I stayed home sick one night. And, uh… that was the night the bomb happened." Quinn pauses, to let that sink in, and then she shakes her head. "I didn't really have a roommate after that, or a girlfriend. A few flings, but nothing that really panned out. Then we met, and, uh… well, that was the closest thing to a not fling I had in a while." A bit of a nervous smile, and she shrugs. "That's really that, you know. Though I seem t' be all around cute girls lately. You, Ygraine, Elaine. I'd count Colette an' Tasha if they weren't together." And yet she counts Ygraine.

Yes, this is familiar. It rises out of her memory, dripping blackness. Bad news stuff. Sable feels guilty first for not having remembered, and thus asking Quinn to remember for her. And she feels doubly bad when she learns how she now has become part of this story. Disappointments, defeats. Sable doesn't consider herself a ray of sunshine exactly, but this…

Her smile is crooked and a little weak. "Aw hon," she says, "Y' can always quit th' band. I'd even try 'n' not be too jealous, 'n' case…" oh, and that reminds her. This might cheer her up! Sable grins. "Y'know, I spoke with Magnes. 'n' the news is that he don't mind his dearest Elaine throw t' us wolves," she lifts a hand to her mouth, "I don't mean it like that," she says, "Shouldn't speak of fair Elaine so. But he did say he didn't mind if it was either 'f us that mebbe show her the ropes, stroll her down th' other side 'f the road, so t' speak."

Whatever bit of sadness or other emotion Quinn had at the moment flies at the window and is replaced with surprise and suspicion. "You're feckin' kidding right? Are you trying t' get me into trouble?"

Sable sets her hand to her heart. "Swear t' God," she says, lifting her chin high, the image of impeccable, irreproachable honor. She squints at Quinn. "But don't you go just pouncin' t' poor gal. Y' can't be givin' us a bad name, arright? I've got that covered."

"Why am I not surprised he'd say that, bein' as he invited her and me into a threesome." Quinn chuckles, shaking her head. "Even if I wanted t' take up on that, I doubt I'd have the courage. I mean, it took enough to…" she exhales sharply and shrugs. "Though I do flirt with her so much. What do you mean you've got it covered?"

Sable waves a hand, "'m just sayin' it's up t' you t' maintain some sorta reputation, as mine surely ain't gonna be easy t' untarnish," she says, "Wicked soul that I am. Was," she corrects, "Wicked soul that I was. I'm mendin' my ways." Easier said than done. "Look, hon, if y' want somethin' with that lovely gal, feel it out some. 'n' if you think the feelin's good, as it might be what with the flirtin' y' speak of… just ask her outright. Ain't no harm in her knowin' yer doors open t' her. Just don't you dare fall in love with her," she says, pointing a finger at Quinn, "That's a headache our company surely doesn't fuckin' need. We've enough t' deal with what with you bein' so goddamn appealin', without us creatin' some sort of crazy fuckin' love triangle 'r whatever."

"I- I know you want me t' be more headstrong, but with someone's…" She sighs, and shakes her head. "You know, that shouldn't bother me as much anymore." And then she wrinkles her nose. "E-Even if I did, I'm smarter than that, Sable. God, I wasn't even willin' to risk messin' up the band. Much less, you know… a relationship." That might have been a little low. "Argh. Damnit, Sable."

Sable crosses her arms across her chest, giving Quinn a very serious look. "All y've got t' worry 'bout is bein' honest 'n' straightforward 'n' all. Honest, hon, I'd not've been so ready t' break things off with y' if I didn't have a strong notion that I'd not easily be able t' keep from fallin' hard f'r you. 'n' my feelin's 'bout you now, friendly as they are, 'r' strong 'nough t' make me think that fallin' is exactly what I'd've done. So it's honest, both with th' girl, 'n' with yerself."

"Honest and straight forward isn't a problem Sable. I'm just- not good at approachin' people about things like that. Unless I'm drinkin' or they come t' me. We went over this!" She gives a nervous laugh. "I- I guess it's the idea of askin' that's weird t' me. Lord knows i've all but. But… I dunno. Magnes. God, the boy already wants us in a threesome."

You know, this gives Sable something like an idea. She usually thinks highly of her own ideas, being the product of aforementioned incredible musical genius, but even she isn't sure about this one. Still, now that it has popped into her head… there's almost nothing to be done about it. She's got to suggest it. "What you need is some practice," she states, "I ran ol' Magnes through this sorta thing once, 'n' lookit 'im now, eh? If Elaine ain't a catch, who the fuck is? So," she scoots back, increasing the distance between them. "You ask me. Try 'n' close th' deal," she smirks, "I'll know if y're doin' it right."

"You want me t' try and get you to sleep with me?" Quinn asks, an amused expression on her face. "I'm not sure I can do that with you, Sable, it's too easy." She sticks out her tongue, and shrugs. "I… in all seriousness, I don't even know where to begin."

Sable lifts her lip in a little snarl. "Don't you go thinkin' too little 'f my willpower, just 'cause I got some stupid fuckin' soft spot f'r you." She gives a sniff, "Then that's yer problem. So just… start. 'n' I'll stop y' if y' go awry."

Quinn opens her mouth, and then closes it, a thoughtful look on her face. And again. And again. The process repeats a few times, and she just sighs, shrugging and shaking her head. "You'd think this wouldn't be such a problem, given how much I like talkin' to people."

Sable rolls her eyes, but her smile is good natured. "Arright, arright," she says, "I'll getcha started. So… yer with Elaine, 'n' yer flirtin' a bit, 'n' y've got yer arm around her 'r somethin'," she slides over the couch and slips her arm around Quinn, setting the scene, "Like so. Only then y' get t' thinkin'… mebbe this is the moment. Yer alone with her, 'n' she's smilin', 'n' mebbe blushin', 'n' so y' turn t' her 'n'," Sable lets her arm slip down, her hand touching against the small of Quinn's back, her eyes falling on Quinn's, "I've been thinkin'," she says, speaking as Quinn in this scene, with Quinn as Elaine, "That mebbe, much 's we've been jokin', mebbe… there's somethin' a little bit more goin' on," she arches her brow, "Now… don't tell me that's in my head."

Quinn nods slowly, eyes narrowed as she looks over at Sable, her own arm subconsciously slipping behind Sable. "I…" Her eyes narrow. "I've been thinking, that, you know… we've been flirtin' alot lately, and I was wondering, like… maybe there's something there?" Paraphrased in her own words. She blinks, and eyes Sable. "What, like that?"

Sable smiles and nods, biting her lip, "Though let it flow natural, like, from the situation," she says, "Just remember always be honest 'n' up front. Make it clear y' want her, 'n' want her bad, but that y' ain't gonna make an issue 'f it 'r nothing… just that it's yer, like, desire. 'n' that if it's hers, too… well…" Her fingers curl against Quinn's back, "Then mebbe it's worth a try, eh?"

Quinn bites on the corner of her lip a bit, and then nods, smiling. "I… am amazed I am even considering this. I think meet you people has been the weirdest thing to ever happen in my life," she remarks with a grin. "And I play with light, so it's kinda up there."

Sable places a kiss on Quinn's cheek, then releases her from her grasp, scootching away. Giving a little space. Best not to risk her line-blurring mind get too tangled in the scenario. "Have fun, Quinn. Lord knows, I'd be helpin' you in more direct sorts 'f ways had I th' assurance it wouldn't end in tears. But this c'n be good f'r y'. Plus," she grins, "It'll prepare y' f'r the life 'f a rock star. Best t' practice while y' can."

"What, you think we'll be swimming in cute ladies once we start to hit it big?" She asks with a bit of a nervous grin. Of course they would, she just wants to actually hear it from Sable. "I don't know if I could handle that. I can barely handle affections from multiple ladies as it isat the moment," she replies, laughing. "But thanks, Sable. I… have no idea if I'll actually do it, for a few reasons. But it's nice t' have some backup if I do."

"Gal, this is just the tip 'f our iceburg," Sable says, giving Quinn a requisite punch in the arm, "'n' 'f course I'm b'hind you, all the goddamn way. Jesus," she grins, her weird mood, her ill temper, all the previous clouds over her head being banished by the magical power of Pretty Women, "Y' need me there in the moment, f'r some personal, hands on support, hon," her smile glows at a thousand Watts, "Ain't no exception I wouldn't make f'r that chance." Kidding? Kidding. Kidding?

"So, behind me literally, then?" Quinn retorts with a smirk, laughing. It, however, does not prevent a blush from forming on her face at the idea of Sable giving "hands on" support. "Let's, uh… worry about that another day. That's a whole different conversation, Sable," she comments, laughing as she reaches up and ruffles the shorter girl's hair.

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