Participants:
| Scene Title | Sissy Dearest |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Lucille confronts Delia about killing her in dreams, poor Sofia is roped into being the negotiator. |
| Date | November 15, 2019 |
The interior of Rose and Trellis smells exactly of what you'd expect — flowers — but also spices, incense, and well-worn cedar wood floors. It's a cozy sort of scent that inspires feelings of warmth and belonging, an aesthetic that is also reflected in the florist shop's compact size and farm-house style decor.
A small selection of glass and terracotta pots and vases lines the wall closest to the door. The highest shelves are accessible only by a flimsy-looking wooden ladder propped up against it that, for the most part at least, is more for looks than for utility.
The flowers themselves vary depending on the season, ranging from tall, lacey stalks of purple delphiniums in summer to white roses and frosted succulents in the winter, and everything in between. Ask the owner about this week's special.
The smell of dried herbs permeates the air of the little shop. Evergreen wreaths are a festive reminder of the season of goodwill and are hanging on every available surface. They're the main draw for the small crowd inside today and every day since Thanksgiving. Ingrid's shop is the only place in the Safe Zone for real trees and traditional decorations, it's a popular locale.
The tinkle of the bell is a little too hard and the lock is flipped even though it's the middle of the day. Delia rests her back against the door, bracing it against the screaming woman outside. The few customers nearest the door get an apologetic smile and a little shrug. "She's off her meds," the redhead explains in a loud whisper.
"Ingrid, if you're here, can you call dad? Please? Or Sofe? It's important!" She calls out, hoping that one or the other is there. “Lucille finally went off the deep end and there’s no turning back!”
Then, spying Lucille through the window, she makes a break for a display of funeral wreaths, ducking behind the greenery to hide herself from the auburn haired woman. One of the customers nearest the door sighs and flips the lock again, letting themselves out without a purchase.
"Delia Marie."
Almost all of Delia's god given name is growled out as her older sister stalks into the place. The auburn haired woman pale blue eyes narrow to silt as she spots her younger sister and moved forward. "Why in the fuck are you playing games like that? You don't think I've seen enough slit throats in the fucking war?!" Lucille has in fact lost it. The aggression radiating off of her as she stops herself from coming closer, she knew her sister to be a trickster. They were to each other but this… this was too fucked up. A line crossed.
The older sister who is clearly not acting the most mature tries to reign in her emotions through her breathing, closing her eyes and tightening her hand into a fist before exhaling and slowly opening her eyes again, "Look… I know things have been fucked with dad but you really can't be doing shit like that D. It's not right. It's not funny." They've had this back and forth before one yelling about how it wasn't funny what the other thought was, this sadly wasn't the case in this instance but Lucille only knew what that dream felt like, who she felt like.
"Just how many copies of Wolves of Valhalla do you have stocked in your place?"
"I don't even know what you're talking about!!" The high pitched voice comes from behind the gift card display. It manages to hide Delia's face but not all of her hair, which has only gotten wilder from the few block run. The moment she saw 'The Bull of Rochester' start her charge.
She keeps the display between herself and Lucille, every time her sister moves, she does too. Never within arm's reach and never without a large obstacle between them. "Seriously Lucille, I don't even know what you're talking about. I stopped reading Wolves of Valhalla the second it got too boring!" Since the romance was a little on the lukewarm side, that was less than a chapter in.
The tinkle of the bell reminds her that, yes, they are in public and she shoots a warning look at her sister. "Calm down, Heather, you're going to turn Ingrid's from the most popular place to a deserted pool hall."
"Delia it sure in the hell wasn't Benji running around in my dreams with your face!" Ugly face! She's not that childish to say it aloud, anyone seeing Lucille in this moment might not recognize the calm and collected Wolfhound Operative who trained and meditated often. Rolling her eyes, "Was that after you got to the part about the cane?"
"I don't know Njörun, I'm feeling pretty fucking pissed." And violated don't forget that. Lucille looks hurts underneath it all, Delia knows that look, when she's about to lose it all and end up in tears. "It was really scary Delia." She says it softly and lays a hand on gift card holder. "It.. just really dark." Shaking her head as if to rid herself of the image.
When the door to the back of the shop opens it isn’t Ingrid that emerges from the staff only entrance, but rather the silver-haired Sofia. Carrying a half-finished arrangement of dried wildflowers in one hand, she looks into the otherwise empty shop with creased brows and a palpable concern. Stepping to the sales counter, she sets the flower bundle down, a few crumbly leaves breaking off as she does.
“Girls,” Sofia insists with a firm but smooth tone. “Exactly what in the world’s gotten into the two of you?” She starts to circle the counter, brushing off particles of dried flowers onto the front of her flannel shirt, offering a look to the windows out to the street to make sure no clients are coming in, then squares a look back on Delia and Lucille, expectantly.
Gift card rack exchanged for an even better shield, a human one, Delia darts behind Sofia for protection. There's no way Lucille would give Ingrid's wife a black eye. The redhead isn't so sure about herself. It's been years but she and Lucille used to get into some pretty nasty teen fights. "I have no idea!!" Delia exclaims, obviously flustered as she hides behind Sofia. "She's gone off her meds and all that crap is coming through in a tidal wave!"
She peeks out at Lucille, her face screwed up in unexpressed anger of her own. "She just started screaming and running at me on the street, like she's some Dragonball Z villain or something."
But then Lucille calms down, running in here was definitely the best choice Delia has made all day. "I have no idea what you're talking about! Are you sure you didn't just make all this up on your own?"
Sofia's arrival can't be that surprising seeing as its Ingrid's shop. Lucille looks slowly in her direction as an eyebrow twitches but the younger woman holds her tongue as Delia speaks and she looks from her sister to sister in law's face with a fierce expression again before it deflates. "Delia why would I make this up?" Her breathing deep as she works to slow her heart rate and bring herself to center. She doesn't want to punch Delia (just a little) but it's becoming increasingly apparent that her sister did not do this.
"That doesn't make any sense Del, it— it felt like you. I know when you're in my head."
"You.. she was talking like she was in the Vanguard. There was that cane.. the one the Major has. It felt so warped. So wrong. I honestly thought you had just.. been being cruel." If Delia had the capacity to be that cruel with her sister might not be all that true but Lucille was/is rattled by the dream.
Sofia closes her eyes and sucks in a sharp breath, then gently slaps the palm of her hand down on the countertop. “Lucille Amelia Ryans,” is firmly lobbed in her direction. “Calm down for goodness sake.” Then, turning, she takes Delia gently by the wrist.
“And you, take a minute and breathe and try not to say anything or I'll put you both out on the street with a knife to settle it like a pair of street gang members.” Sofia says with a hint of frustration in her otherwise calm voice. Looking at how she's holding Delia’s wrist she relents, settling her focus on Lucille again.
“Now,” Sofia tries to remain calm, “what's this nonsense about… Vanguard? They're gone.” She'd read the book!
The hand that isn’t being held by Sofia moves up to Delia’s lips and makes a lock in key motion before she turns to Lucille with a worried frown. Yes, she did silently promise to keep her lips zipped but there was so much to say! “Lu, I wouldn’t do that to you… besides… Vanguard? You know I’d pick something way worse than that to torture you with if it really was me.” She shrugs as she tries to bring a little levity into Lucille’s disposition. “I’d make you dress like a juggalo or something. If I did that, then it was definitely me… but I promise it wasn’t.”
To affirm it, she swipes a finger across her heart in a cross cross pattern. “Lu, I wouldn’t scare you like that.”
The slap on the countertop has Lucille's eyes snapping towards Sofia and nostrils flair, the offer to throw them a knife to fight in the street is almost met with the showing of her own blade on her person, she's already prepared. But the older sister listens to her younger with eyebrows raised and she sees in Delia's own way that the redhead is telling the truth. "It just doesn't make sense.. it wasn't Benji."
There's a lowering of her shoulders as the tension there releases itself and she holds the countertop gently as she searches for the right words to explain, "It was like we were in Vanguard, the family, like some twisted memory. Some fucked up… bizarro you and me." Cold slides up along Lucille's spine making her shudder involuntarily. "It was confusing. I know when it's just me in there." Years of having her dreams meddled with by her sister and niece has helped with that, the dreams they share don't feel like.. normal dreams ever.
“Honey,” Sofia says with eyes closed and a slow shake of her head, moving around the counter and over to Lucille’s side. “It was probably just a real dream. I know it's hard to remember these things happen, but they do.” Sofia raises a hand to rest at Lucille's shoulder and squeezes gently. “You can't blame Delia for all your nightmares.”
Letting her hand fall away, Sofia looks back over to Delia. “Your sister's just confused and scared and— I suppose emotionally stunted because that's a Ryans’ family trait I suppose.” There's a patient frustration there. “And please, dear, be kind to her. You know she's been through a lot.”
"I won't tell …" Delia pauses and then shakes her head with a sigh, "Nah, Iggy probably thinks the exact same thing. But still." Still. She turns to Lucille and presses her lips together in a grim line. With Sophia acting as her human shield, she's able to actually take a pause.
"Listen," she finally says to her sister, "you know I could never get through Wolves of Valhalla and we weren't even aware of any of this when Vanguard was around. I wouldn't and couldn't do that to you. If it's real, we'll figure it out, but it's probably just like Sophia says, a nightmare." She doesn't reach for the other woman, preferring to stay on the other side of the counter. The safe side.
Listening to both her sister and sister-in-law with a bowed head and furrowed brow Lucille is at a crossroads, Delia is sincere but she knows what it felt like. Or she is just actually crazy. Smothering a laugh at herself the tall woman slowly raises her head and looks from Sofia to Delia. "You're right." Deflated, "I'm sorry it's been a rough few months. Dad's diagnosis.. then being cured." Shaking her head Lucille looks off to the side.
A rather measured breathing rhythm begins for Lucille and she feels her mind clearing from the heavy weight of misguided emotions. She was that close to smacking Deli.
"I guess you couldn't be bothered to finish a whole book." A light jab but in jest, a faint smile that doesn't reach Lucille's eyes.
Exhaling a slow sigh, Sofia shakes her head and looks from Lucille to Delia. “You all about to cut each other up with knives over a bad dream,” she says with a pinch of her brows in frustration. “I know this world’s gone crazy sometimes, but you two girls don’t have to contribute to it. Now,” Sofia steps over to Delia and gives her a gentle shove to the shoulder, “go hug your sister and you two,” a subtle raise of her voice as she looks up to Lucille, “make up and remember how lucky you are to have each other.”
There’s a tension in Sofia’s expression, a tightness pulling down the corners of her mouth. Beyond her sage advice, she holds vigil over the quarreling sisters, not content to leave until they make amends.
Delia clutches her chest and looks first to Lucille and then to Sophia. "The stabs, they go right through my heart…" It's a dramatic gesture but one that she feels a bit justified in making. She accepts the little shove from Sophia, plodding toward Lucille. The hug her older sister receives is a bit stiff, guarded, and over much quicker than it began. The redhead doesn't linger for an extra cuddle, not really trusting the moment.
"Sorry for crashing in on you guys like this," she says to her sister-in-law, assuming that Ingrid is somewhere being scarce. Given the givens, Delia would probably avoid this sort of altercation as well. "I'll get back to the garden," she adds as she retreats, "Lu, it's been…. seeing you again."