Port in a Storm

Participants:

delilah_icon.gif sable_icon.gif

Scene Title Port in a Storm
Synopsis A somewhat distraught Sable calls on Delilah, whose nautically themed dress is cause for wordplay of the worst sort.
Date June 17, 2010

Central Park - Belvedere Castle

Constructed from the same stone as the Vista Point which supports it, Belvedere Castle seems to rise out of the earth itself. The miniature Gothic castle is easily visible from a distance, courtesy of both its height and the American flag fluttering from the turret's pinnacle. Its windows overlook views of Turtle Pond, the Delacorte Theater, and the Great Lawn. The interior, however, is anything but Gothic; the halls on both floors are filled with telescopes, microscopes, paper-mache birds, skeletons, and feathers, all laid out as parts of an interactive exhibit. In the Henry Luce Nature Observatory, visitors can borrow binoculars, notepads, maps, and guidebooks with which to study the wildlife of the park.


This place isn't precisely Sable's element. But Sable doesn't seem particularly Sableish at the moment. 'Beside yourself' is a strange little idiom, but it does it job - it conveys a very specific kind of feeling. Out of sorts, out of joints, not yourself. It's all about not quite being at home in your skin, or even your own head. You don't need to have a psychic hitchhiker to no longer feel you are where you ought to be, no matter where you are.

Why this specific place, Belvedere Castle, has less to do with Sable's mood and more to do with whom it is she's waiting for. Delilah received a somewhat hurried call in which Sable entreated - that is the only word - the other girl to meet her here. She didn't call it by its name. 'That castle sorta place in th' park' is how she put it, but it doesn't take a polymath to figure out what she's talking about.

At this very moment, Sable on a bench, giving a row of big brass telescopes a somewhat dirty look, as if she'd caught them spying on her. No way to prove it, of course. They're all directed up at the ceiling now, innocent as can be. But Sable knows better. Shifty bastards. Her hat is pulled down tight over her unruly hair, the brim tugged to cast a shade over her yellow eyes. Arms folded tight over her chest, all she lacks is a literal chip on her shoulder.

The first thing to really focus in the tall stone entryway to the telescope balcony is a bunch of horizontal striping- faded sailor stripes. A second later they are on a dress with a knitted outline of an anchor; the dress is on Delilah, hair down and wedge sandals clomping lightly on the stone. There is a worn olive drab bag over one shoulder, heavy with something inside of it.

"You look like someone smashed your kiss gate." Dee's voice is abrupt and sprightly. She seems to be in an excellent mood, compared to Sable's rainclouds and rolling thunder. The hanging bag is adjusted on her shoulder, and she moves forward to properly meet with the other girl. Getting called and virtually begged to go somewhere- it didn't seem too much like her to do something like it. "What's up?"

Sable, busy keeping watch over the treacherous telescopes, misses Dee's entrance. Which is a great shame, and would be a regret of Sable's if she even knew what she'd missed. As it is, she sort of starts, stirred from her own dim thoughts as Delilah's voice penetrates her revery. The first thing Sable does is smile. Second, she rises. Third, her arms are around Delilah. Fourth, "Thanks fer meetin' me, hon. Awful grateful." And she sounds it.

She steps back, hands finding her pockets as her eyes move down to her feet, catching all of Delilah on their way, and thus lured back up again, finding Dee's eyes when all is said and done. Still smiling, despite herself. "This here's me in a bad way after behavin' badly," she says, "Lettin' you know what yer in for if you keep me around, eh?" She looks around, indicating the interior of the castle, "Been here b'fore? Seems like mebbe the sort of place you'd like. Clever 'n', like…" the word she'd use, if she knew it, is 'eclectic', "Beautiful strange."

Delilah is quick and unrepentant in hugging back, wrapping arms around Sable and grinning ear to ear for those few moments. It fades when Sable tucks her hands, but just slightly. "I've been here quite a few times, yes. I like castles, but I don't suppose that's a shock, is it?"

"What's wrong?" Delilah only presses because she has to. "You can't expect to call me like that and say something like you just did without me wanting to know?" It is not a chastisement so much as it is the facts laid there.

Sable winces, "Sorry, sorry," she says, "Just don't wanna, like, pour it all out on you. 'n' it's nice enough t' see you that I wanted… I dunno… a break 'r somethin'. Port in a storm," she shakes her head, "I'm bein' fuckin' stupid. Comon'," she reaches out to clasp Dee's hand, "Let's walk. You lead the way. Show me what's worth seein'. I'll explain as we go, eh?"

For all that Sable said she'd let Delilah lead, she's the one starting them off, leading them back through the balcony entrance. "Without goin' into boring fuckin' details," Sable begins, "I set about sorta… settlin' some things. With some girls I know," she hates to be irritatingly vague, but she has a instinctive dislike of talking about 'girls' (the word here carrying unspoken but probably obvious significance) when a 'girl' (with said significance) is the listener. But here goes…

"I'm a real bad hound dog at times, truth be told, 'n' I got burned pretty bad th' one time I tried t' just go fer a one 'n' only so…" Sable shrugs, "Mebbe you know what I mean. Mebbe not. In any fuckin' case, it didn't all go so fuckin' great. One girl, figure things are fine. Made one girl cry, though, which always makes me feel like a real shit. Today, though, I saw a girl I thought things were already settled with, only it bubbled up real bad. Ended up with shoutin' and slammed doors and all that."

Port in a storm. Ironic that she is wearing the dress that she is- maybe there is something to be said about anchor iconography. Delilah allows Sable to move them first, and sooner rather than later she finds twine in Sable's fingers to lead onward. She listens, until long after Sable is finished.

"I know what you mean." They are now gliding around around the part of the castle connecting it to the park proper, bird's eye view and all. "You did it all with good intentions, sounds like- just variables are all different. People are. Unless they're Magnes clones, they probably aren't hung up on you. They'll be fine, if that's what worries you."

Sable's loosening up already. When she was talking, her eyes wandered across the vista. But she looks at Delilah when the taller girl speaks. The mention of Magnes draws a smile to her lips. "Aw, well, ol' Magnes thinks of me as, like, his little brother 'r some shit, he says," Sable says, "'n' he gave his honest best t' get me in bed. If he got hung up on you, hon, I can't hardly fault him for it."

A hand reaches out to brush the castle's hewn stone, fingernails tapping in a syncopated rhythm. "All this, y'know, 'cause I don't wanna give anyone th' runaround," Sable explains, and her eyes cut over to Delilah for just a moment, as if checking for something, something she needs to know before going on, "Least of all you, hon. As it stands, I know we've known each other a fairly short while. But, y'know…" she gives a shrug, "I guess I'm tryin' t' say I want you t' know I am pretty fuckin' serious. 'bout wooin' you. I ain't sayin' I did it, like, for you. Like, I ain't thinkin' y' owe me or oughta be grateful, 'n' I don't expect nothin'. But I wanted t' get my head clear and my heart right. 'cause I'm serious. Like I said."

Sable's reasoning is quite …unique, to say the least- Delilah seems a little lost at something about owing Sable for breaking up with girls(?)- though when she looks over looking for something, all that Delilah musters for an answer is a passive blink. Runarounds didn't seem to phase her when discussed. On the other hand, Sable's talk of seriousness and clearing her head because of her- that gets a tilt of her face to hear, and a lifted browline. Not that it is strange- just that she was not expecting it so quickly. She has never had a serious relationship of this particular variety, and so the concept is fairly new to Lilah, on a firsthand basis.

"So you essentially cut off all of your other relationships- because of me?" When Sable gets serious, she apparently gets really serious. "No- I mean- for me? You don't even know what I think about it." Delilah smiles a little, a bit entertained by presumptions. It'd be terrible if she were less interested to the point that Sable could have just burned bridges for nothing. But as it is, she is not like that.

Sable waves her hand, looking a little startled. Her phrasings are peculiar, her reasoning winding, and her accent somewhat obfuscating, but she desperately wants to get some clear ideas across. "Naw, naw," she says, "Not for. I mean… Hold on." Sable breaks into a bit of laughter, "Jesus. This is all comin' across so dire 'r somethin'. Okay…"

The shorter girl pauses in her tracks, turning to face Dee fully. "I didn't break things off with 'em because I wanted t' prove anythin' t' you. Nor did I do it 'cause I felt like this was a sure thing 'r nothin'. I did it because I feel like yer worth tryin' without distraction. Without fallbacks. 'cause that's what they'd be, hon. Fallbacks. I've my eye set on you. However it pans out b'tween us, this is somethin' I'm willin' t' be."

"I mean, yeah, I'll feel like a damned fool if y' tell me tomorrow I should fuck off," Sable admits, with a crooked smile, "But I've got an inklin' you ain't. I got a sense like mebbe yer at least a bit curious, eh?"

Delilah seems to understand much better once it is explained to her, eyebrows lifting and chin nodding. "I understand now. Sorry for not parsing." She laughs sheepishly. "I'm not going to tell you such a thing, you're right. But not because I'm only curious." Dee tugs her forward again, leading Sable along one of the lesser used paths.

"I won't say something like that to someone meaning so well. I'm not that crass."

"Y' do? Fuckin' great. Mebbe you c'n explain it t' me. Because I don't more than halfways know what the fuck I'm on about," Sable admits, with a laugh of equal sheepishness. She's smiling, half out of embarrassment and half (the better) out of relief. She follows after, pace quickening so she can keep up. Her fingers slip out of Delilah's, but only so she can slip her arm around Dee's waist.

"Oh, but yer crass enough should the circumstance fuckin' call f'r it, I bet." the yellow eyed girl teases, "I'm guessin' you've a sailor's fuckin' way of speakin' should y' need it, fits you as well as that there sailor's outfit. Which looks unbearable fuckin' cute, hon. Makes a mind turn wickedly, and no mistake."

"Crass enough, yes." Lilah agrees. "I don't make a scene if I shouldn't, is all." It's called manners! Class! Whatever happened to class? "Turn wickedly? Shame on you." The redhead laughs, lifting a finger to pat it onto Sable's nose, playfully. "I felt …naught-ical today." Ouch. Puns.

Oh. No. No no no. This one is so bad Sable's brain actually grinds gears when it catches onto what's just been said. She gives Delilah a blank look, which slowly fill in with horror. She shakes her head, as if waking from some dreadful dream. "Hon, y' gonna keep up with that, 'n' I'll be kissin' you just so as t' keep y' from speakin' so again…" she warns then, after a moment's reflection, "Y' can go ahead and take that as encouragement, by the way," she adds, "'n' I'll be sure to take it as such in turn." Her fingers curl at Dee's side, bunching the striped dress under her grip. "Not that further encouragement is precisely fuckin' needed, 'course."

Delilah just laughs, grinning and hugging onto Sable. "Okay. I'll take it as encouragement. But that was my only pun, so I can't exactly force your hand- it's like you've got a twelve and I've got a five." Unless Sable knows the terms, she won't get the joke. But regardless- Dee is out of jokes now.

The joke goes clear over Sable's head, but that's quite alright. She's got other concerns on her mind. Without much in the way of warning, Sable slips her hand around in front of Delilah, catching the taller girl's hand. Next she steps back, setting her free hand against Dee's waist and giving her a twirl, unfurling both their arms before. It's a waltz move, well remembered, and it's a waltz stance Sable pulls Delilah into as she draws her back, stepping forward to meet her, face to face. "Consider my hand unforced," she says, lifting herself up on tiptoes. And then she kisses Delilah, yellow eyes closing as she does.

Delilah's reaction is perhaps not as meek as Sable may have been expecting. Perhaps she was going for the peaceful little kiss- something a little more romantic. The redhead whose lips are kissed, however, uses the arm on Sable's shoulder to draw her closer. Not so much as to squash them both together in an awkward mash of mouth. Just enough so that maybe it is clear Delilah is feeling exactly how she just said she was. The truth can be a dangerous thing!

Sable is maybe a little surprised. To be honest, she was just leaping. A kiss like that is done as much to find out how it will be answered as it is for the kiss itself. She plunges, only to find Dee diving right in with her. There's something rumbling in Sable's chest, something starting as a purr and building into growl. The smaller girl presses forward, uplifted hand pulling Dee's own down to her own hip and leaving it there. In moments she's got Delilah's back against the castle's stone wall, the hand at her waist gripping with evident want, the other hand now pressed to the wall next to Delilah's head.

Delilah is not terribly younger than Sable; her experience seems to speak volumes though. As welcoming as she is, it comes as little surprise when she pulls Sable into an embrace, all soft lips and warm arms. There is a laugh soon, however, bubbling up from Dee's chest and rifting apart their lips as she manages to shift her head back just a couple of inches. "I told you so."

"You sort of taste like lemon bars." Nice to know.

Sable eases back, not by much, but there's clear effort put into reassembling her thoughts, momentary scattered in the moment. Her eyes creep open, and swish from side to side. Where are we again? Oh right. Just where we were moments ago. She grins as Dee 'tells her so', but her brow arches as the redhead makes her next observation. "Now I gotta be hopin' you care f'r that particular confection," she says, "Or 't least will develop a taste f'r 'em."

"I rather like lemon bars." Delilah decides after a few quiet moments of apparent and determined deliberation.


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License