Participants:
| Scene Title | What You Need |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Nobody really knows what the other needs, but the wants are laid bare. (You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime you find- you get what you need.) |
| Date | April 4, 2011 |
Pollepel Island - Docks/Forest
Pollepel Island's docks consist of a lone wooden pier with old, worn planks and tall posts that spans a distance of one hundred feet. Boats moored here are tied with rope, and while there is always a danger of something being taken by the Hudson's currents, this risk is diminished by the submerged remains of an old wall and crumbling battlements, which creates a small sort of harbour where the water is stiller and geese gather near the shore.
A dirt path winds from the docks through a dense thicket and up a shallow incline to the squat bluffs on which Bannerman's Castle, a crumbling fortress of red stone, is perched. From there, it's a short climb up steps chiseled out of the rock to a grassy plateau with a view of the forested highlands and the river that separates the stronghold from the mainland.
It's wet and breezy, but he doesn't care.
Benjamin Ryans continues on his journey, along the outside of the castle. Boots move over slick rocks and gravel as he moves. With the weather as it is, he's only in a dark gray t-shirt and a unbuttoned soild blue flannel shirt and a worn pair of jeans. It's a little warm then it's been and that in itself has prompted his little exploration around the castle.
He stops at the edge of one of the crumbling walls, the emerging green keeping him hidden from the river. Ryans leans over the wall and looks into the ruined section of castle curiously.
She never pegged Ryans as the type to go asplorin', but even Huruma can be surprised a little bit. When word came around that the boat was coming in, she had to hold herself back from waiting there near the docks for it. That would have come off desperate- and while in some ways she is, in most others she is not wanting to scare her only good friend more than she already has. It is a tentative job for her, to find him and address several things before he might run off.
Her brown jacket is light, worn in some places, open despite the clammy, damp atmosphere around the castle; her own boots squeak slightly as she moves over the path he walked a couple of minutes ago. Huruma moves over the gravelly ground with something akin to trepidation, as if she weren't supposed to be bothering him at all.
"Benjamin?" Her voice is just firm enough, tone balanced, for now- perfectly between hard and soft.
He freezes like an animal caught in the lights of an incoming car, even if he doesn't show the fear. He straightens from where he's looking and leaves his palms resting on the wall. He turns his head her way, not so much wary, but… uncomfortable.
"Huruma." He seems to be steeling himself to face her, but after a moment longer he does. His face is unreadable, even if his emotions are right there before her. "I realized recently… I missed my garden." He motions to the opening beyond the crumbled yard. "I was looking for a suitable place. Would help out the Ferry to have something like that out here."
He's rather forthcoming with information, trying to keep her distracted maybe from the unease.
Huruma watches him carefully for a passing breath, before coming close enough to be standing beside him, one hand running along the slick stone as she goes. It's cold to the touch, and brings a measure of steadiness in its being a wall and cool against her palm. When he does look at her, she is there, peering back with deceptive passiveness. His emotions are there for her, but hers haven't been able to rear themselves quite yet. The woman follows his gesture like a bored housecat watching someone throw a ball, and the movement is familiar.
"Yes, I suppose that it would…" Huruma muses back, allowing Benjamin his time of retrospect and lingering there for when she decides it is finished. The unease he feels is an obvious thing to her, and when her eyes come back up it is clear that she is trying to be less brusque, even gentle.
"I am sorry for saying such a thing. It was foolish of me."
"Saying what?" Ryans asks, "To put you down if you go crazy in the future?" The words a gruff and sharp, but the look he angles at her isn't. He doesn't say anything, doesn't vocally accept the apology. Boot scuff against the rock as he shifts his weight and turns towards her a little. "It was more disturbing that in that dream I was already considering that option. Like you were going to become a wild animal." Her levels a look at her as he says it.
"I didn't like that I was thinking of you that way, so when you suggested it…" well there you have it. Ben glances toward the river, the blue glitters between the greening branches.
Huruma's reaction is mixed at first- his words make her shift her weight away from him, wavering on her heels. But it isn't fully there behind his eyes- it's a serious feel, but so far it isn't angry. At least, not at her, and that is good enough. She meets his gaze, if hesitantly, lips turned down at the very edges. Her hand on the wall seems to want to burrow into it, as her fingers find a groove and practically latch on.
"Then, I am sorry that I brought it forward again." There is a slight desperation to her apologies; Huruma does not make a habit of issuing them in the first place, so when they seem to fail she goes blindly to pinpoint the right words. Whether that one falls facefirst as well is up to Ryans; at the very least, it is clear that she has difficulty with something that should be simple.
Lips press tight as he studies the dark skinned woman for a long moment, but finally Ryans says softly, "You didn't know," is his way of apologizing. "Just… that dream…."
Benjamin doesn't know what to think of it, that's for certain. He turns away from her to the overgrown area beyond the wall. A finger taps against the rough and broken surface. He can't keep on like this though. "You… remember the end of it? What happened?"
Huruma doesn't remind him about the whole- other people also having them- thing. She figures it is enough to know in the back of his head, and she wouldn't want to be reminded if it were her. The woman dips her chin an inch, watching his broad back for lack of a face. There is no immediacy in his voice, and so he does not get a response until Huruma deems the silence long enough. A few seconds that feel very, very long to her.
"Of course." A sigh can be heard from where she stands. "Of course I do. I never-" A pause. "I don'do that, much. I can count all th'times on one hand." Huruma assumes he is more curious about ability logistics; she only realizes that may not be the case after she speaks, however.
Benjamin's head nods slowly, but infuriatingly he doesn't say much yet. When he does he still isn't looking at her. "I've… suspected that there might be something, but I chose to ignore it." It's not meant to be insulting, but simple fact. She can feel the building of discomfort in his emotions. "Now… I've been forced to face it. I don't like this awkwardness caused by that damn dream."
Head tilting down, his blue eyes move to look at the textures of the rock wall beneath his hands. "I don't want it to come between what friendship we have managed to find."
Her silence may do her less good, by the time she notices that she's said nothing back. Maybe it is because he isn't facing her that she finds no deadline in responding. There is just the shallow sound of her breathing, barely present.
"I'm not making another apology." Huruma's volume is soft, firm on this one matter before it melts into something considerably more nervous. The lack of a face to look at is making this an ungainly exchange on her end. "It is 'awkward', t'be an empath, and t'not know what is going on until someone else spells it out for you." The admission is embarrassing, and Huruma shuts up for a few more long seconds after it.
"I don'want something t'come between what we already'ave either-" Something saddened creeps into her smooth voice. "You are th'only one that seems to understand me." Her, and all that extra discombobulation that comes with.
"I'm not asking for one, Huruma." His stoney feature crack a bit, mostly with a touch of frustration. "I don't expect you to apologize for feelings. Especially, not feelings." Ben finally looks at her, concern touching his features for a moment, before he starts trying to push those emotions deep inside again.
"I'm not sure I can be what you need." He pushes himself straight, a hand making a frustrated gesture. "Not even sure I can be what Lynette needs either. I just know what I felt in that dream was a sense of family." Blue eyes dart over her features, trying to read her as he turns toward her.
"The girls adore you, look to you. Even have you on a pedestal." Ryans sighs softly, she can tell he feels harsh unease about the subject. "I think you will always be a member of this family, cause I was right. What I said… you are working your way into the family. Hell, Huruma." He motions to the castle, "You are pretty much one of use, even if you continue to say otherwise."
Huruma can't understand why it is that he keeps trying to push things lower and lower- she can feel it there, regardless, though certainly in a less fronting sense. Emotions are fine layers, made even finer by how little some of them actually differ. When he looks at her, there's something there reminiscent of her features from the dream- a slightly clenched jaw, brow bent inward and upward to find a morose little spot on her forehead. After a certain point, she is not hard to read; similar unease and hesitation, a drifting mote of hurt. They are very new things to see out in the open as they are.
The woman moves her head into a smooth affirmative nod as he gestures to the castle, and everything inside. It isn't a lie that she got so involved at first simply because she wanted to dog him; it turned into something honest, or she would not keep coming back to help the Ferry and its own. They both know it ended up changing her. They both know that she is one of the family, as it were.
"You don'know what I need… I don'know what I need. It woul'not be fair of me to assume …anything." Huruma sighs, the noise heavy against her lungs. "I know that I consider you as m'best friend, an'that I do care very deeply for you and your family." A slight warning in her tone comes with that- as if trying to make sure that he does not try to put words in her mouth. He knows that she is always deliberate, and that what she says is what she means. The dark woman's half-calm words do not have to be molded any more than they already are.
The old man gives a soft grunt and takes a step back. She can already feel the knot of tension in him easing. "Alright," he murmurs and looks at the path ahead of him, but his desire to explore has dwindled some.
"As long as there is an understanding." Ben focuses on her then, blue eyes narrowing a little. "How about we go see what the kitchen has going for lunch." He looks up and squints at the sky, the clouds having started to thicken again.
"Looking like rain anyhow."
That wasn't the ball of plummeting fire that Huruma's imagination made it out to be. Thank goodness for that, right? The knot in him eases that little bit, and her shoulders visibly do the same, as if the strung wire there was also wrapped around her. There is an understanding, if somehow an odd one. He knows that her feelings are there now, and for the moment Huruma is grateful for the dream having done that legwork for her.
His look gets followed as it roams, up at the overcast ceiling that threatens to turn into a rumbling, wandering mass. "Spring storms." Unrelated to anything from the conversation, Huruma sounds relieved as she moves to start back with him. Spring is coming, and with it, new opportunities. Something to be relieved for.