Participants:
| Scene Title | Restraint |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A headstrong Sable receives a lesson in restraint from Delilah. At least that was the original plan. |
| Date | July 4, 2010 |
Gun Hill - Sable's Apartment.
Including the fire escape and the room itself.
The party has dimmed in activity, just as has the sky, and fireworks have exploded all across the city, signaling the high point, and the end, of the city wide celebration. A testament to how people really need an excuse to get drunk and shoot rockets into the air when things are crappy in their lives. A moving statement about the human spirit. Really. I'm serious.
Sable's a little more serious by the end of the evening herself, the wacky tebaccy she smoked to complete her new Zen having worn off for the most part. Properly sober, or as sober as she gets, she's snagged Delilah for some 'womano y womano' and is trying to lure her down one flight of fire stairs… to the spot right outside her room's window, and the vista it affords.
"Comon'," she urges, her glasses hanging from the neck of her tunic, "I'll give y' a hand if y' need. Wanna steal a moment, if that's okay."
Delilah is fine leaving Samson with the others; they'll keep an eye on him anyway. There's little reason she can find to not try and go with Sable, and so when the offer comes she is quick to accept, yet wary about clambering about on escapes. When Sable asks into giving her a hand, the redhead quickly nods. "Yeah, please."
What Sable might want to talk so seriously about is not very clear, but Dee seems to want to listen to what Sable has to say. Once they get where they're going.
Okay, it looks like seriousness. Because it's Sable and she overdoes everything. Hence the hippy outfit. Hence… her. And hence this. Sable leads Dee down the metal stairs with great care and attentiveness, and brings them to the railing facing out into the darkening city. She slips an arm about the pregnant girl, and slips her hand into her cargo pocket, removing the little silver cardboard box from before.
"Here. Didn't want t' give this t' y' with everyone around. Seemed… dunno. Not right. It's nothing too special just… something I thought'd look fine on you." She offers the box up. It's about as big as a pack of cards… and it's familiar. The kind of thing jewelry is packed in.
Dee saw that box earlier, didn't think too much of it- but now when she gets a good look at it, she knows what it is. It wouldn't be the first instance of its kind, so she waits for Sable to continue, watching quietly. "You got me something?" It's so very endearing.
Delilah takes the box gingerly in her fingers, nudging open the papery lid to look inside. First thought- thank goodness it is only Amber- second- wow, Sable's got pretty nice taste. "Oh- it's quite beautiful." Her fingers dip to gently pick up the necklace, the pendant dangling daintily against the soft skin of her fingers.
"May I, hon?" Sable says, stepping around behind her and going to take the end links of the silver chain, "It's th' small pleasure 'f givin' a gal a piece 'f jewelry, that y' get to put it on, gentle-like."
If she can see up there, sure. Delilah does not say this, obviously. "Be my guest." She smiles, very toothily, with an underlying laugh. She relinquishes the chain to Sable's fingers. "It's not going to match anything on me at all- but I suppose it sort of matches my hair, doesn't it?" And her freckles, for certain.
"I figured, best it suit the lady first, 'n' she c'n wear it with what she pleases," Sable says, getting on tiptoes so as to be able to navigate the tiny clasp. She enjoys it, though, letting her fingers run against Delilah's collarbone and throat with a light, gentle touch as she lifts the chain and brings it around, meeting ends at the nape of her neck. Joining them. She sets a kiss right above the clasp, head pushing aside the impeding ponytail. "Turn around 'n show me, eh?" she says, smile in her voice, stepping back a little.
Delilah gives a couple of tiny tilts of her head as Sable works at putting the necklace on, taking the time to enjoy short moments of affection. When the redhead turns, it is with one hand to her chest, fingers tracing over the curve of the amber pendant. Her lips are smiling softly down at it, and brown eyes flick up to Sable. "So? What do you think?" True, it does match her hair, and her complexion.
"Nothin' lovelier on Earth," Sable says, her eyes fixed on the pendant only for a moment before moving up to those brown eyes. Van Morrison understood. This thought gives Sable comfort in the way she always feels when a song can speak for her heart. Makes it a whole lot easier on her. She rises up, a telltale sign that she's going to kiss Dee. And kiss her she does, once, full but quick. "Y' wanna step in, hon?" she asks, a bit quick, a bit sly, still acting like she has to sneak it in, "No rush, 'course. But it'd give y' a place t' sit, 'n' I could put on some music."
"Samson's still up with the others. You sure they'll watch him?" Delilah is not truly worried; if she were, it would be clear. She smiles after Sable lifts a kiss to her, acting as Able is wont to most times it happens. As if she were a little fox having stolen something semi-precious. And it is, but the owner knows that she is not running out of them anytime soon. "I think I'd like a cushion." Which is for the most part, an affirmation of needing to have a better place to sit than the wiry patio chairs.
"There's through the window, 'n' back up 'n' down the stairs," Sable says, clarifying their two possible routes, "The window's," she points to the window directly behind them, "Right there. But I don't want t' tax y' 'r nothing, so if y'd rather the stairs, I'll be your arm 'n' escort." Fussing is not very sexy, but Sable can't suppress certain nurturing instincts. Fondness can take many forms.
"Let's take the window, Romeo." Delilah is way ahead of Romeo, too, shifting to head over and see to opening it. "I'm not a total cripple, just that my ass hurts." Well.
"I'd goddamn well hope not," Sable says, shifting out of her fussbudget mode as quick as anything. One track mind, maybe, but she can switch tracks damn quick. "I c'n do gentle 'n' lovin' but it ain't precisely my, like," she grins across at Dee as she stoops to offer her a hand with the window, and down into the room once it's open, "Forte."
"If you're not good at it-" A pause. "Not saying you aren't- but, if you don't think you are made for it, don't hurt yourself trying." Delilah smiles as Sable gets at the window instead, amber twinkling along her sternum. She allows Sable inside first, taking her own time in going one foot at a time through the window, standing up again with her back to the room. "Do you want to leave it open? Nice weather."
Sable gives Dee a challenging look as she eases her down just in front of the head of the bed, in the two foot space between the mattress and the wall. Sable is slipping off her shoes already, even as she fixes Delilah with that look, "Y' tell me somethin' y'd like done t' you, hon, if God granted me th' power t' do it, I'll do it," she steps aside, motioning for Dee to take a seat on one of the pillows, which will afford her a view out the window, "There's a whole list 'f things we discussed over dinner, eh? 'n' more in the world. Y' can count me in f'r every last one," she grins, "By yer ladyship's leave 'f course."
There is a moment where Dee picks her elbow up to her face, stifling an already muffled yawn, however small. When her arm lowers again, Delilah is watching Sable quite intently while she slides down onto the bed, one leg bowed under and the second trailing the movement of her sitting. Her hands find the plush of the nearest pillow, nudging it just under herself as she comes to a halt. The bobbing ponytail bobs again, dashing red locks against Dee's neck. Her smile is back, slim, like the shading of her eyelids.
"And what if I said I wanted you to really see how well this matches me?" Fingertips draw over the amber curve a second time.
Sable's answer is wordless. She moves at once to her CD player, plucks a disc from her piled collection and flicks it inside, moving with brisk economy. The sound of electric guitar and rolling drums ebbs into the room as Sable moves to the bed, stalking across it until she's leaning over Delilah. Her fingers slip under the pendant, hand closing to catch it in a light grasp. A moment later, the grip tightens and Sable lunges in for a fierce kiss, her reply unambiguous.
She's very, very okay with that.
If Sable were any more mechanical about actually answering, Delilah might worry about it; as it is, Sable is simply as straightforward as she can be. Hands find the sides of Sable's face, thumbs making just enough pressure on her cheeks to keep contact- and subsequently be able to move her an inch away, nose to nose, lashes to lashes. Freckles move up in a smile. Dee will teach her restraint, one way or another.
"…Step out a minute? I'll call you to come back?" There so happens to be a nebulous plan.
Restraint? That's something involving silk ropes, right? Sable blinks, momentarily nonplussed. But she nods, remaining just as wordless as she releases the amber from her fist and steps up and back. She glances to the door. No. The window is so much closer. And she won't peek. Honest.
She clambers out the window and walks up to the railing, keeping her eyes out at the darkened city. At the few remaining fireworks spiraling up into the sky. Is that a twitch at the corner of her eye? Surely not. She's fine. She's patient. She's… restrained.
Just inside, Delilah makes sure, steady work of plucking the tie from her hair, plunging sandals off, rolling cottony clothes of every layer off of herself- back to the window, of course. Even if Sable looked- nothing all too interesting. Until Delilah leans down to lie down onto the bumps of pillows, still nothing. Nothing in the literal sense, surely- same for the twinkle of silver and amber.
But, that call back for Sable never comes- by the time she should think to really investigate, Delilah's cheek has found a particularly soft pillow, and her eyes have fluttered shut as she lies there half on her side amidst bed and blanket.
Not what she'd been intending to do, quite.
Sable has her human limits, and when a verbal check, "Hon?" fails to elicit a response… she turns. And her eyes find a pale, slumbering beauty resting atop her pillow. What should be the hollow drop of disappointment doesn't come. Instead she's buoyed up by inexpressible fondness. She just looks for a long moment, biting her lip with one finely tipped canine in a confused mix of desire and what she could only call devotion. That's just the effect she has on her. Sable treads through the window with utter silence, on socked feet. She sheds her newfound garments, so the necklace is the only adornment between them, and slips up behind the taller girl, casting the blanket up over them both and drawing close. Though she didn't know it, this is precisely what she's wanted. And just what she's missed.