sunset
[Missed first posts. Downtown, in front of Arabella's Condo.]
-phone call-
Thu 07:00PM CST
From Arabella's purse the digital strains of Bach or Beethoven, or Chopin, or whatever she has her ring tone set to, chime out.
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 07:05PM CST
"Well, no one else had, and you and your family have done a lot to cheer me up lately... it reminds me a lot of my own." The slight smile, seriousness dripped through her words. So serious for seventeen. Its been a few months now since she's done anything simply for fun until recently. She turned some to glance at Starbucks, and then his truck, her answer carried in her smile. "A drive would be nice. Getting away from people is always good, and I've had enough of them from my piano instructor." The strains of Chopin that begun to play in hesmall handbag getting a bemused expression.
"Ohh... excuse me, Billy... don't know who could be calling..." The slim flip phone pulled out and she opened it, a glance at the caller ID as she answered. "Hello?"
-phone call-
Thu 07:06PM CST
From the phone Billy can hear the static sounding wha-wha-wha of a loud and familiar voice. Chattering away enthusiastically.
Billy McCann
Thu 07:16PM CST
Keys jangle as he digs around his front pocket for 'em. Ain't got but a few on the ring. Don't have much to lock up except the truck and the toolbox across the back. Ain't nothing in the houseboat that anyone would want, and they's almost always a brother at home. They slide on out, he picks through 'em, turning back toward the passenger's side. Fits his hand through the handle and pulls it open for Arabella like he's some sort of gentleman (which he ain't) an' looks at her with that intense gaze, like he's near about ready to boost her up in there. An' it's a bigass old thang, needs about a ladder to get up to the cab, so maybe he's gon' boost her anyway. She answers the phone and he just nods in that implacable manner. Looks up and away, but don't leave. Don't give her extra space to have her half of the conversation in private. Watches her from beneath half-hooded eyes, the crawl of expression across her face. The way her mouth moves when she talks. The flashes of white teeth behind pink lips. The way her fingers spill over the sides of the phone, the way she - pianist she - moves them. Just watches.
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 07:22PM CST
She didn't seem to be wanting privacy, in fact might not have answered the phone at all since she was with him if she'd thought to turn it off to voicemail already. Alas for hindsight. It was a smile that brightened some at hearing Jodi's voice though. "Well hello to you, Jodi Lynn. I'm doing well... actually with your cousin right now talking."
She looks up at Billy from her study of the scenery while she talked and chuckled softly. She spoke with deliberation, each owrd perfectly formed with lips untouched by lipstick, and only occaionally by gloss. She rarely wore any form of makeup beyond a touch of perfume, which, if he tried to catch, was some sort of exotic floral blend. "No, riding would be lovely. I know I have somethings going on tomorrow but I typically exercise my horse at some point. I'd love for you to come along."
She moves closer, perhaps thinking to climb into this monstrously high truck while she chatted with the owner's cousin on the phone. Young woman chatter though who could ever say Bella was a chatterer she didn't know. "Just between you and me, then, and I will. Have a good night."
Billy McCann
Thu 07:44PM CST
Billy's mouth splits into one of his brief grins as he hears his cousin's voice on the phone. As he hears her name, too. The smile lingers as Arabella steps up close. He swings open the passenger door the rest of the way as she steps up, then falls in behind her, tall and close. "It's real high Miss Arabella." Voice quiet like always, and near her ear again. Rough, like he's in the middle of a long night and dawn ain't nowhere in sight yet. "Lemme help you on up." He don't ask no more. Just wraps his hands around her waist and lifts her on up, like it warn't no big thing, until she can slide into the passenger's seat real easy. Rough hands catch on the fine silk of her gown, the fingers strong and warm. He holds her like that about two shakes longer than necessary, watching the shape of her shadowed through the dress. The way it rucks up and uncurls and flows, but it's just moments, like he forgot what he was doing in the motion of doing it, then remembered again a moment later. Hardly worth mentioning.
Once she's settled, he checks for fingers and toes, then slams the door closed. The sound rattles on through the whole of the truck, like they's about 5000 loose parts holed up in the frame, marbles and ball bearings what got unstuck from more important duties an' have just settled in to make rustbucket noise. Slaps the side of the door, then walks around the front, squeezing past the big old shiny SUV parked in front of him. Swings hisself on up and into the driver's side in an easy motion and starts the truck up. Something grinds somewhere in the engine, and the sounds seems like it amuses him. He flashes her another grin - this one near hang-dog - before it settles back off her face. "Morgan said he done fixed that rattle." The cab's large, the bench seat near torn-up, the struts shot, the springs old and either too springy or not enough. There's a distinct underscent of whiskey, even if there ain't no evidence he's been drinking. Something's rattling around in the well at her feet, and some papers is sticking out from the sunvisor, tucked above it. Country music is quiet on the radio as he looks away from her. Puts the truck into gear, swings his arm across the back of the seat and strains to look behind him as he pulls out.
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 07:51PM CST
She tries not to suirm as he lifts her easy as he pleased up to a level to slide into the passenger seat. She's not tiny, but it was high. It rather amused her, though she might have meneged if not so attired. She did ride horses afterall. "Thank you Billy." Doing a lot of that tonight, for assistance rendered, for compliments given and just being a subtly uplifting mood usually. Then, while he came around to climb in, she closed her phone, slid away again but this time voicemail on and calls forwarding so she wouldn't be interrupted again. Her hat pulled off her head and settled on her lap and gloves lightly tugged free of her hands. Shge didn't much enjoy those in the summertime, and it was only for the appearance of things she'd worn them to her lesson. Those were shoved rather haphazardly into her handbag as she settled herself as comfortably as she could.
"I don't believe I've met Morgan..." And she wondered how mnay more McCann clan might appear in Chicago as truck rattled and groaned and made all manner of noises she's never associated with a vehucle before. It was a bit intimidating. She watched him drive while he watched around them to do such, a level of trust in him that he won't wreck, or his truck won't fall apart somewhere inconvenient.
Billy McCann
Thu 07:58PM CST
"I said it before an' I'm'on'a say it agin, you don't need to thank me, Miss Arabella. Ain't necessary." Reaches up, adjusting the rear view mirror until the sun ain't blaring right into his eyes, then shifts back into first gear and swings the big old truck out into traffic. The vehicle handles easier than Arabella might think, given its ponderous size,. They ain't no power steering, though, so Billy has to work at swinging the wheel hard around and into the tight spots. "Morgan's the second-youngest. Cody's the youngest. Tommy - you met him - he's the middle boy, an' Ryan's the oldest." Once they're out in steady traffic, he drapes his arm across the seat again, so his hand is settin' near her shoulder, the nape of her neck, or thereabouts. The tips of his rough fingers tangled in a few free strands of her hair. "You said what Cody done reminded you of somethin'?"
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 08:07PM CST
"Its polite, Billy... and habit." She smiles almost sheepishly, the fact she might be one of the most well taught in etiquette of her generation not entirely impossible. her eyes drifted from traffic, indeed amazed at how the vehicle handled, and him driving. She knew how to drive, even did it on occasion, but her mother had felt safer that she have someone driving her around in crazy American traffic.
She nodded some, soft curls drifting around her fce and shoulders freely. She didn't shrug away from his hand, if anything, it combined with the topic made her glad of it. She was remarkably fragile in a few ways inside, and this period after the Raptor's was making her so. "Something, yes. Its very... fuzzy... I can't really remember now who or what, but it was similar... I got so angry that night, some at his inconsoderate prank, but more because it made itself plain then that I was beginning to forget..." Her voice had fallen to a soft tone,a quiet whisper of sweet tones and personal thoughts.
Billy McCann
Thu 08:22PM CST
The car sweeps around a traffic circle, and where they had been driving away from the slant of the setting sun, now they're heading toward it. Billy don't bother flipping down his sun visor, he just squints even more like always, like he was made to squint. The sunglare is harsh only when the shadows of the buildings aren't sprawling across the road, getting in their way. But the sun's slipping down rapidly, and Billy shifts up and shifts up, accelerating through traffic. There's still some raw uncertain sound somewhere in the frame - struts, maybe - and the ride ain't easy, but they're getting through traffic at a pretty good clip. He doesn't answer her normal like. He don't respond as soon as she does, and her explanation falls into a silence that don't seem uneasy, if only because Billy's pretty near silent an awful lot of the time. The radio croons - he shoots her a look and shakes his fingers free of her hair to reach to turn it up - "That's Patsy Cline." - offering an explanation in case she don't know, because likely she don't. Fingers drift through her freeflowing curls, but he doesn't quite touch her, not completely. His hand is just a presence. At last, when they're pulling off Lakeside Drive onto some little spitting peninsula of a park that faces west out over the lake, he looks up and over at her. "You don't have to 'pologize fer gittin' angry over that. Seems t'me like it's about yer right t'get angry. Happens t'everone." Reaching out to brush a thumb across her cheek. "You let yourself get angry about that. Maybe it'll slow it down some, maybe it won't. Don't do not to feel what you're feelin', though." He looks at her serious another moment, then puts the truck in park and sets the brake. Looks away from her, out through the windshield. "Got here near about in time fer sunset."
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 08:33PM CST
She winced some at particular sounds, seriously wondering how long the truck might hold up as she rode inside of it. She liked stability in some things, like automobiles. Their lives were riding on flimsy shocks and who knew how many other troubles, afterall.
"I didn't know that." Country is not her forte. Her hands fold around the hat she'd worn until she was in the truck, looking ove rat him or down more as sunlight kept trying to blind her. If she wondered why he was silent, it didn't show. He was silent a lot, and she didn't feel the need to fill it with more words. There were time when more said only took away from what came before.
"It was just a bad night all around. One among many lately..." The slight smile as she glanced at him, the almost comfort, somehow touching brush of his thumb sothing in a way. She had few to talk to anymore.
"I'm sure they're lovely over the lake." Letting the new subject intrude on what was a somber moment, well longer then moments.
Billy McCann
Thu 08:45PM CST
The last strains of Crazy drift through the cab. When the song's over, Billy reaches across his body and shuts off the radio. Nothing that comes after can compare. Arabella lets the subjects drift like ice floes in the north atlantic or clouds in the sky - one to another. Billy falls silent again, just nods maybe, a sound of appreciation in the back of his throat, fingers warm near the nape her neck, almost brushing her skin through the clouds of curls. He gets up at last, though - pausing to grab something from beneath the seat, maybe one of the things that had been rolling around beneath her feet - then tramps around to the other side of the truck. Opens her door and lifts her out with the same care he give her before, hands spread out around her waist, thumbs to the front, fingers splayed across the small of her back. Sure, she could just jump down, but then he couldn't pick her up, could he now? He sets her down and sets her free and starts walking at her side, up the path to the edge of the lake and a lookout with old coin operated binoculars splashed ochre and crimson by the violent eruption of the setting sun across the sky. Walks in silence a bit, before shooting her another near unreadable look. Pale eyes squinting, but not against the sun, now. "Ain't no one else there fer you? Yer folks 'r nothin'?"
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 08:54PM CST
It was a pleasant sort of soothing. There were no messy entanglements, no demands, no ties, no troubles... and she sat in the silence, comfortable, feeling him near and not bothered. She wasn't embarrassed, blushing, or tense, simply watching the day wend into night and thinking. It was good for the soul perhaps.
Billy's movement disturbs that radiant peace but not in a bad way. Curiosuity for what he grabbed and then he was out and moving. She let him lift her down, the trace bit shy finally with it and stretching a little once on the ground again. They walked in the silence again until he spoke and she let it hang there, unanswered, begging for one, or needing one as she thought. Face turned towards the setting sun, hands bare of gloves and free of hat and purse for the moment. She was picking her way carefully in heels.
"My mother is in germany, and the brothers I have left are away to various places in business." She didn't elaborate what kinds, but all were kin or Garou, and all had their own places. "I'm the youngest of six, and Aurich was the oldest. We always had a special relationship, a certain closeness I didn't share with my other brothers. Now that he's gone his mate and two guests we've had for some months now are with me..." But Genenvieve was cold comfort, if she deigned to acknowledge a need for grief outwardly and Josephina and Jocelyn were busy with their pack concerns much of the time. "Everyone has their own lives..."
Billy McCann
Thu 09:09PM CST
Like near about always, Billy walks beside her and while he ain't touching her, he near about is. His hand hovers just at the small of her back, a constant presence, but don't never breach the little bit of distance. Giving her space and not presuming (all that much), but never letting her forget his presence, neither. They come on up to that little spit of land jutting out into the lake. The highway noises recede, but they's still a dull roar. The city's lights splash and smear across the dark waters, which ripple and twist like loosened, heedless silk in the everpresent Chicago wind. The wind catches her hair, sweeps it back behind her like a flag. His left hand gets all tangled up in the longest strands but he shakes them free, letting the wind have them. It's hardly an idyllic scene, the chemical plants and docks lining the lakeshore near as far as can be seen, except for tracts of land like this one, devoted to greenspaces. But the sun is spilling fire from the west, and the dark, befouled waters are reflecting it back to the sky, and if you half close your eyes, you can pretend that the worst of the blight don't exist. And if you pretend that, you kin pretend that the war is winnable, and this is just a pleasant idyll. You can pretend an awful lot, if you've a need. Maybe Billy thinks Arabella Eberstark von Doenhoff has a need.
"Yer always talkin' about lessons. You thinkin' what you wanna do with 'em? Or is that a family matter?" Pale eyes slice away from the sun to her face, her eyes, which reflect the dying sun's rays. The green's lost beneath the reflected flare, and her fine skin is painted sunset colors. His hand drops from behind her as they come to the edge of the little peninsula. He reaches out in front of him, grabbing the flaking railing meant to keep people from falling off into the dark waters. Flexes his right hand, bruised knuckles popping audibly, then his left. Then reaches into his right pocket with three fingers, fishing out a quarter. Circles back around her and puts the quarter into the old binoculars, bends forward to look through, then steps back so's she kin have a turn.
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 09:17PM CST
When her mind finally forgot and her heart settled to an unknown ache that was vaguely painful at times, she might resume that light hearted smile and easy carefree mischieviousness that had endeared her to many over the years. Nothing had ever dimmer her until this loss and its subsequent problems around it. She might try to pretend, looking out on industry and devestation, and somply relaxing into the here and now, but it never works. Nor should it, probably, though the thought always counts.
"I don't really know. Its not something I think anyone's cared to consider. I'm sure sometime after school is complete marriage will be expected and settling into some household like my mother did, having and raising children, tending to things while they're away." It almost sounds pathetic as a future, so plain, so flat, for her. She doesn't seem to mind, but likewise, doesn't seem excited. Moving closer to the binoculars, she bent to peer through them, to gaze on some piece of the view which wasn't chemicals and human depredation. The sunset was lovely at least. She was moving to stand straight again, when she continued. "I'm not really good at anything, rather kinda average at a lot of things. I like the piano and I know I'm decent at that, but... its nothng more then a hobby I suppose."
Billy McCann
Thu 09:24PM CST
"'n what if you could do anything?" Rough hand settled on the binoculars, the broad flat section between the two sharp points holding the optics. One foot hitched up on the heavy forged base, leaning forward and near over her was she looks out at the great beyond. The timer ticks away - just clockwork, some collection of gears an' all - its strange loud little song. She steps away and finds him studying her again. "Be good at anything, pick anything you wanted to do. Anything in the whole dang world you could be or do. Any idea what you'd pick?"
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 09:33PM CST
She stands by the binoculars, space left for him to look again if he so chose. She watched him, around them, hand toiling to contorl some of the hair whih blew across her face, obscured her eyes at times. It rippled over the silk dress she was wearing, making a soft sweet whisper of a sound. Silk itself could sound so enigmatic, so seductive without any real effort. She pout forth none, in fact seemed oblivious.
"If I could do anything... thats hard. The only thing I ever wanted to do was help my brother... and thats done now. I never thought beyond that... I never really imagined this time afterwards and what my future might be. It always seemed so... distant." She sighed some, figuring it sounded lame and tired. She'd never pondered her future for worrying about others... Aurich and the Raptors, her family, even Tucker... but not herself.
Billy McCann
Thu 09:52PM CST
"You'll figger it out. Find somethin' t'do that's worth doin'. It'd be a waste if'n y'spent it just waitin' fer someone else. Y'ain't just some pretty girl, yer a whole person. Them lessons gon' be good fer somethin', someday. I aim t'help you figger that all out, if'n y'don't mind it, none." It's a long speech for Billy, but doesn't have any particular urgency. His sentences amble around on their own. Take their time gettin' around to the point sometimes. He ain't hurried. He falls silent after he finishes, then leans forward, in close. Maybe she thinks he's gonna take another look through the binoculars, which are so old that they make the world wavy and wobbly more than anything else. Don't bring much you wanna see closer, but at least the details are still sort of erased. Just a dark-edged shoreline, the flash of distant lights. Don't think about that, though. Braced against the binoculars, he leans forward and reaches to catch the the flying strands of her hair. Patient, he catches them, smoothes them away from her forward and holds them behind her face. He leans in like he's gonna kiss her.
But he don't kiss her.
Just stands there with his mouth a few inches away from hers, and her dress swimming across her body like water or a flag, the supple sounds of the silk, the strange exotic mixture of her perfume, which is something he ain't really never smelled before her, and something he can't name. His pale eyes are intense, the last of the sunlight reflecting across them makes them some other color, but the regard is the same as always. Maybe harder, sharper. More taut somehow. "I'm gonna kiss you someday." There's alcohol on his breath. She can smell it. There about always is. But he don't sway, and it ain't on the clothes or in his hair, just the hint of it on his breath. "But I'm savin' up fer it."
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 09:59PM CST
She thought about it, about how she told Tuckr once she was the future where there were white picket fences and supportive spouses, domesticity and comfort. It fit her and yet she wasn't sure she wanted just that, anymore. She was questioning everything now, in her confusion, in her life. "I'd like that, I think." The light catch of a smile at the corners, wher elips look to create it, but it never becomes fully realized. It stays half formed and chamring, in her odd sort of way, as he leans in, as he gathers up hair almost as silky as her dress and she watches his eyes for some indication of his intent.
She didn't need to since he was telling her just a few breaths later but green eyes glitter as they catch on his more, watchful, wondering. "Are kisses like bank accounts, to save for?" It would have been coy from most anyone else but she whispers it like a genuine question, as if she truly wanted to know, or understand him.
Billy McCann
Thu 10:16PM CST
"Th'best ones is. An' they's a difference between them and th' rest of them." He grins a moment, and it don't disappear so much as it seeps away. His serious face seems softer for it, though. Or maybe that's just the twilight shaving the hard edges from his features. His left hand stills behind her and shakes free of the strands of her hair. Instead, he wraps calloused fingers around the back of her neck, the base of her skull. Lifts her head the better to see that half-formed smile that tugs the corners of her mouth, and then lifts his right hand off the time-ticking binoculars to brush a calloused thumb across the corners of her mouth. His eyes drift down from her eyes to the shape of her mouth beneath his hand, go near unfocused with remembering. He straightens, and the edge of his grin returns.
"How many loved your moments of glad grace?
And loved your beauty with love false or true?
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face."
Finishes his reciting and tips his head forward, like he didn't mean it at all and he had to go through with it. Entranced by her, or the moment, or maybe by the old eloquence of those recited words. But he just sweeps close, releasing her easily from his grasp while settling his arm around her shoulders. Turning to walk back to the truck. She can feel the solid shape of his arm over her shoulders. The lean strength inherent in the way his body moves over and around hers, the animal confidence of it all. Her hair is caught half by his arm, and half by the wind, and blows about the two of them like its near possessed. He shakes free of it. "Figure its near time fer you t'get home. Wouldn't want no one there t'worry."
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 10:23PM CST
"Well, someday, perhaps I will see." She can't help but smile a touch more, curiousity in this thing. There was a kind of intimacy, almost entrancing in the way he touched her, studied her features like they were an object of art, or intrigue. It made her feel warm inside, that fact she's encountered few who actually looked at her this way, a surprise few could imagine. She stays still, half smiling, under his touch and gaze until he began to recite his verse... and it bloomed more full force. "You do know exactly what to say sometimes, Billy... you've a perfect knacl for it."
Settling into his arm to walk with him, the night made more perfect by the lack of things. She didn't know if she wanted to explore other levls of this... thing... they had, which she'd viewed as friendship until very recently. Walking with him felt eeriely like walking with Jaan, or Rasputin, or Aurich... "Its probably best, if anyone's home, they might wonder. If is the keyword there of course." Feeling a bit lighter and more relaxed now.
-phone call-
Thu 07:00PM CST
From Arabella's purse the digital strains of Bach or Beethoven, or Chopin, or whatever she has her ring tone set to, chime out.
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 07:05PM CST
"Well, no one else had, and you and your family have done a lot to cheer me up lately... it reminds me a lot of my own." The slight smile, seriousness dripped through her words. So serious for seventeen. Its been a few months now since she's done anything simply for fun until recently. She turned some to glance at Starbucks, and then his truck, her answer carried in her smile. "A drive would be nice. Getting away from people is always good, and I've had enough of them from my piano instructor." The strains of Chopin that begun to play in hesmall handbag getting a bemused expression.
"Ohh... excuse me, Billy... don't know who could be calling..." The slim flip phone pulled out and she opened it, a glance at the caller ID as she answered. "Hello?"
-phone call-
Thu 07:06PM CST
From the phone Billy can hear the static sounding wha-wha-wha of a loud and familiar voice. Chattering away enthusiastically.
Billy McCann
Thu 07:16PM CST
Keys jangle as he digs around his front pocket for 'em. Ain't got but a few on the ring. Don't have much to lock up except the truck and the toolbox across the back. Ain't nothing in the houseboat that anyone would want, and they's almost always a brother at home. They slide on out, he picks through 'em, turning back toward the passenger's side. Fits his hand through the handle and pulls it open for Arabella like he's some sort of gentleman (which he ain't) an' looks at her with that intense gaze, like he's near about ready to boost her up in there. An' it's a bigass old thang, needs about a ladder to get up to the cab, so maybe he's gon' boost her anyway. She answers the phone and he just nods in that implacable manner. Looks up and away, but don't leave. Don't give her extra space to have her half of the conversation in private. Watches her from beneath half-hooded eyes, the crawl of expression across her face. The way her mouth moves when she talks. The flashes of white teeth behind pink lips. The way her fingers spill over the sides of the phone, the way she - pianist she - moves them. Just watches.
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 07:22PM CST
She didn't seem to be wanting privacy, in fact might not have answered the phone at all since she was with him if she'd thought to turn it off to voicemail already. Alas for hindsight. It was a smile that brightened some at hearing Jodi's voice though. "Well hello to you, Jodi Lynn. I'm doing well... actually with your cousin right now talking."
She looks up at Billy from her study of the scenery while she talked and chuckled softly. She spoke with deliberation, each owrd perfectly formed with lips untouched by lipstick, and only occaionally by gloss. She rarely wore any form of makeup beyond a touch of perfume, which, if he tried to catch, was some sort of exotic floral blend. "No, riding would be lovely. I know I have somethings going on tomorrow but I typically exercise my horse at some point. I'd love for you to come along."
She moves closer, perhaps thinking to climb into this monstrously high truck while she chatted with the owner's cousin on the phone. Young woman chatter though who could ever say Bella was a chatterer she didn't know. "Just between you and me, then, and I will. Have a good night."
Billy McCann
Thu 07:44PM CST
Billy's mouth splits into one of his brief grins as he hears his cousin's voice on the phone. As he hears her name, too. The smile lingers as Arabella steps up close. He swings open the passenger door the rest of the way as she steps up, then falls in behind her, tall and close. "It's real high Miss Arabella." Voice quiet like always, and near her ear again. Rough, like he's in the middle of a long night and dawn ain't nowhere in sight yet. "Lemme help you on up." He don't ask no more. Just wraps his hands around her waist and lifts her on up, like it warn't no big thing, until she can slide into the passenger's seat real easy. Rough hands catch on the fine silk of her gown, the fingers strong and warm. He holds her like that about two shakes longer than necessary, watching the shape of her shadowed through the dress. The way it rucks up and uncurls and flows, but it's just moments, like he forgot what he was doing in the motion of doing it, then remembered again a moment later. Hardly worth mentioning.
Once she's settled, he checks for fingers and toes, then slams the door closed. The sound rattles on through the whole of the truck, like they's about 5000 loose parts holed up in the frame, marbles and ball bearings what got unstuck from more important duties an' have just settled in to make rustbucket noise. Slaps the side of the door, then walks around the front, squeezing past the big old shiny SUV parked in front of him. Swings hisself on up and into the driver's side in an easy motion and starts the truck up. Something grinds somewhere in the engine, and the sounds seems like it amuses him. He flashes her another grin - this one near hang-dog - before it settles back off her face. "Morgan said he done fixed that rattle." The cab's large, the bench seat near torn-up, the struts shot, the springs old and either too springy or not enough. There's a distinct underscent of whiskey, even if there ain't no evidence he's been drinking. Something's rattling around in the well at her feet, and some papers is sticking out from the sunvisor, tucked above it. Country music is quiet on the radio as he looks away from her. Puts the truck into gear, swings his arm across the back of the seat and strains to look behind him as he pulls out.
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 07:51PM CST
She tries not to suirm as he lifts her easy as he pleased up to a level to slide into the passenger seat. She's not tiny, but it was high. It rather amused her, though she might have meneged if not so attired. She did ride horses afterall. "Thank you Billy." Doing a lot of that tonight, for assistance rendered, for compliments given and just being a subtly uplifting mood usually. Then, while he came around to climb in, she closed her phone, slid away again but this time voicemail on and calls forwarding so she wouldn't be interrupted again. Her hat pulled off her head and settled on her lap and gloves lightly tugged free of her hands. Shge didn't much enjoy those in the summertime, and it was only for the appearance of things she'd worn them to her lesson. Those were shoved rather haphazardly into her handbag as she settled herself as comfortably as she could.
"I don't believe I've met Morgan..." And she wondered how mnay more McCann clan might appear in Chicago as truck rattled and groaned and made all manner of noises she's never associated with a vehucle before. It was a bit intimidating. She watched him drive while he watched around them to do such, a level of trust in him that he won't wreck, or his truck won't fall apart somewhere inconvenient.
Billy McCann
Thu 07:58PM CST
"I said it before an' I'm'on'a say it agin, you don't need to thank me, Miss Arabella. Ain't necessary." Reaches up, adjusting the rear view mirror until the sun ain't blaring right into his eyes, then shifts back into first gear and swings the big old truck out into traffic. The vehicle handles easier than Arabella might think, given its ponderous size,. They ain't no power steering, though, so Billy has to work at swinging the wheel hard around and into the tight spots. "Morgan's the second-youngest. Cody's the youngest. Tommy - you met him - he's the middle boy, an' Ryan's the oldest." Once they're out in steady traffic, he drapes his arm across the seat again, so his hand is settin' near her shoulder, the nape of her neck, or thereabouts. The tips of his rough fingers tangled in a few free strands of her hair. "You said what Cody done reminded you of somethin'?"
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 08:07PM CST
"Its polite, Billy... and habit." She smiles almost sheepishly, the fact she might be one of the most well taught in etiquette of her generation not entirely impossible. her eyes drifted from traffic, indeed amazed at how the vehicle handled, and him driving. She knew how to drive, even did it on occasion, but her mother had felt safer that she have someone driving her around in crazy American traffic.
She nodded some, soft curls drifting around her fce and shoulders freely. She didn't shrug away from his hand, if anything, it combined with the topic made her glad of it. She was remarkably fragile in a few ways inside, and this period after the Raptor's was making her so. "Something, yes. Its very... fuzzy... I can't really remember now who or what, but it was similar... I got so angry that night, some at his inconsoderate prank, but more because it made itself plain then that I was beginning to forget..." Her voice had fallen to a soft tone,a quiet whisper of sweet tones and personal thoughts.
Billy McCann
Thu 08:22PM CST
The car sweeps around a traffic circle, and where they had been driving away from the slant of the setting sun, now they're heading toward it. Billy don't bother flipping down his sun visor, he just squints even more like always, like he was made to squint. The sunglare is harsh only when the shadows of the buildings aren't sprawling across the road, getting in their way. But the sun's slipping down rapidly, and Billy shifts up and shifts up, accelerating through traffic. There's still some raw uncertain sound somewhere in the frame - struts, maybe - and the ride ain't easy, but they're getting through traffic at a pretty good clip. He doesn't answer her normal like. He don't respond as soon as she does, and her explanation falls into a silence that don't seem uneasy, if only because Billy's pretty near silent an awful lot of the time. The radio croons - he shoots her a look and shakes his fingers free of her hair to reach to turn it up - "That's Patsy Cline." - offering an explanation in case she don't know, because likely she don't. Fingers drift through her freeflowing curls, but he doesn't quite touch her, not completely. His hand is just a presence. At last, when they're pulling off Lakeside Drive onto some little spitting peninsula of a park that faces west out over the lake, he looks up and over at her. "You don't have to 'pologize fer gittin' angry over that. Seems t'me like it's about yer right t'get angry. Happens t'everone." Reaching out to brush a thumb across her cheek. "You let yourself get angry about that. Maybe it'll slow it down some, maybe it won't. Don't do not to feel what you're feelin', though." He looks at her serious another moment, then puts the truck in park and sets the brake. Looks away from her, out through the windshield. "Got here near about in time fer sunset."
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 08:33PM CST
She winced some at particular sounds, seriously wondering how long the truck might hold up as she rode inside of it. She liked stability in some things, like automobiles. Their lives were riding on flimsy shocks and who knew how many other troubles, afterall.
"I didn't know that." Country is not her forte. Her hands fold around the hat she'd worn until she was in the truck, looking ove rat him or down more as sunlight kept trying to blind her. If she wondered why he was silent, it didn't show. He was silent a lot, and she didn't feel the need to fill it with more words. There were time when more said only took away from what came before.
"It was just a bad night all around. One among many lately..." The slight smile as she glanced at him, the almost comfort, somehow touching brush of his thumb sothing in a way. She had few to talk to anymore.
"I'm sure they're lovely over the lake." Letting the new subject intrude on what was a somber moment, well longer then moments.
Billy McCann
Thu 08:45PM CST
The last strains of Crazy drift through the cab. When the song's over, Billy reaches across his body and shuts off the radio. Nothing that comes after can compare. Arabella lets the subjects drift like ice floes in the north atlantic or clouds in the sky - one to another. Billy falls silent again, just nods maybe, a sound of appreciation in the back of his throat, fingers warm near the nape her neck, almost brushing her skin through the clouds of curls. He gets up at last, though - pausing to grab something from beneath the seat, maybe one of the things that had been rolling around beneath her feet - then tramps around to the other side of the truck. Opens her door and lifts her out with the same care he give her before, hands spread out around her waist, thumbs to the front, fingers splayed across the small of her back. Sure, she could just jump down, but then he couldn't pick her up, could he now? He sets her down and sets her free and starts walking at her side, up the path to the edge of the lake and a lookout with old coin operated binoculars splashed ochre and crimson by the violent eruption of the setting sun across the sky. Walks in silence a bit, before shooting her another near unreadable look. Pale eyes squinting, but not against the sun, now. "Ain't no one else there fer you? Yer folks 'r nothin'?"
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 08:54PM CST
It was a pleasant sort of soothing. There were no messy entanglements, no demands, no ties, no troubles... and she sat in the silence, comfortable, feeling him near and not bothered. She wasn't embarrassed, blushing, or tense, simply watching the day wend into night and thinking. It was good for the soul perhaps.
Billy's movement disturbs that radiant peace but not in a bad way. Curiosuity for what he grabbed and then he was out and moving. She let him lift her down, the trace bit shy finally with it and stretching a little once on the ground again. They walked in the silence again until he spoke and she let it hang there, unanswered, begging for one, or needing one as she thought. Face turned towards the setting sun, hands bare of gloves and free of hat and purse for the moment. She was picking her way carefully in heels.
"My mother is in germany, and the brothers I have left are away to various places in business." She didn't elaborate what kinds, but all were kin or Garou, and all had their own places. "I'm the youngest of six, and Aurich was the oldest. We always had a special relationship, a certain closeness I didn't share with my other brothers. Now that he's gone his mate and two guests we've had for some months now are with me..." But Genenvieve was cold comfort, if she deigned to acknowledge a need for grief outwardly and Josephina and Jocelyn were busy with their pack concerns much of the time. "Everyone has their own lives..."
Billy McCann
Thu 09:09PM CST
Like near about always, Billy walks beside her and while he ain't touching her, he near about is. His hand hovers just at the small of her back, a constant presence, but don't never breach the little bit of distance. Giving her space and not presuming (all that much), but never letting her forget his presence, neither. They come on up to that little spit of land jutting out into the lake. The highway noises recede, but they's still a dull roar. The city's lights splash and smear across the dark waters, which ripple and twist like loosened, heedless silk in the everpresent Chicago wind. The wind catches her hair, sweeps it back behind her like a flag. His left hand gets all tangled up in the longest strands but he shakes them free, letting the wind have them. It's hardly an idyllic scene, the chemical plants and docks lining the lakeshore near as far as can be seen, except for tracts of land like this one, devoted to greenspaces. But the sun is spilling fire from the west, and the dark, befouled waters are reflecting it back to the sky, and if you half close your eyes, you can pretend that the worst of the blight don't exist. And if you pretend that, you kin pretend that the war is winnable, and this is just a pleasant idyll. You can pretend an awful lot, if you've a need. Maybe Billy thinks Arabella Eberstark von Doenhoff has a need.
"Yer always talkin' about lessons. You thinkin' what you wanna do with 'em? Or is that a family matter?" Pale eyes slice away from the sun to her face, her eyes, which reflect the dying sun's rays. The green's lost beneath the reflected flare, and her fine skin is painted sunset colors. His hand drops from behind her as they come to the edge of the little peninsula. He reaches out in front of him, grabbing the flaking railing meant to keep people from falling off into the dark waters. Flexes his right hand, bruised knuckles popping audibly, then his left. Then reaches into his right pocket with three fingers, fishing out a quarter. Circles back around her and puts the quarter into the old binoculars, bends forward to look through, then steps back so's she kin have a turn.
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 09:17PM CST
When her mind finally forgot and her heart settled to an unknown ache that was vaguely painful at times, she might resume that light hearted smile and easy carefree mischieviousness that had endeared her to many over the years. Nothing had ever dimmer her until this loss and its subsequent problems around it. She might try to pretend, looking out on industry and devestation, and somply relaxing into the here and now, but it never works. Nor should it, probably, though the thought always counts.
"I don't really know. Its not something I think anyone's cared to consider. I'm sure sometime after school is complete marriage will be expected and settling into some household like my mother did, having and raising children, tending to things while they're away." It almost sounds pathetic as a future, so plain, so flat, for her. She doesn't seem to mind, but likewise, doesn't seem excited. Moving closer to the binoculars, she bent to peer through them, to gaze on some piece of the view which wasn't chemicals and human depredation. The sunset was lovely at least. She was moving to stand straight again, when she continued. "I'm not really good at anything, rather kinda average at a lot of things. I like the piano and I know I'm decent at that, but... its nothng more then a hobby I suppose."
Billy McCann
Thu 09:24PM CST
"'n what if you could do anything?" Rough hand settled on the binoculars, the broad flat section between the two sharp points holding the optics. One foot hitched up on the heavy forged base, leaning forward and near over her was she looks out at the great beyond. The timer ticks away - just clockwork, some collection of gears an' all - its strange loud little song. She steps away and finds him studying her again. "Be good at anything, pick anything you wanted to do. Anything in the whole dang world you could be or do. Any idea what you'd pick?"
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 09:33PM CST
She stands by the binoculars, space left for him to look again if he so chose. She watched him, around them, hand toiling to contorl some of the hair whih blew across her face, obscured her eyes at times. It rippled over the silk dress she was wearing, making a soft sweet whisper of a sound. Silk itself could sound so enigmatic, so seductive without any real effort. She pout forth none, in fact seemed oblivious.
"If I could do anything... thats hard. The only thing I ever wanted to do was help my brother... and thats done now. I never thought beyond that... I never really imagined this time afterwards and what my future might be. It always seemed so... distant." She sighed some, figuring it sounded lame and tired. She'd never pondered her future for worrying about others... Aurich and the Raptors, her family, even Tucker... but not herself.
Billy McCann
Thu 09:52PM CST
"You'll figger it out. Find somethin' t'do that's worth doin'. It'd be a waste if'n y'spent it just waitin' fer someone else. Y'ain't just some pretty girl, yer a whole person. Them lessons gon' be good fer somethin', someday. I aim t'help you figger that all out, if'n y'don't mind it, none." It's a long speech for Billy, but doesn't have any particular urgency. His sentences amble around on their own. Take their time gettin' around to the point sometimes. He ain't hurried. He falls silent after he finishes, then leans forward, in close. Maybe she thinks he's gonna take another look through the binoculars, which are so old that they make the world wavy and wobbly more than anything else. Don't bring much you wanna see closer, but at least the details are still sort of erased. Just a dark-edged shoreline, the flash of distant lights. Don't think about that, though. Braced against the binoculars, he leans forward and reaches to catch the the flying strands of her hair. Patient, he catches them, smoothes them away from her forward and holds them behind her face. He leans in like he's gonna kiss her.
But he don't kiss her.
Just stands there with his mouth a few inches away from hers, and her dress swimming across her body like water or a flag, the supple sounds of the silk, the strange exotic mixture of her perfume, which is something he ain't really never smelled before her, and something he can't name. His pale eyes are intense, the last of the sunlight reflecting across them makes them some other color, but the regard is the same as always. Maybe harder, sharper. More taut somehow. "I'm gonna kiss you someday." There's alcohol on his breath. She can smell it. There about always is. But he don't sway, and it ain't on the clothes or in his hair, just the hint of it on his breath. "But I'm savin' up fer it."
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 09:59PM CST
She thought about it, about how she told Tuckr once she was the future where there were white picket fences and supportive spouses, domesticity and comfort. It fit her and yet she wasn't sure she wanted just that, anymore. She was questioning everything now, in her confusion, in her life. "I'd like that, I think." The light catch of a smile at the corners, wher elips look to create it, but it never becomes fully realized. It stays half formed and chamring, in her odd sort of way, as he leans in, as he gathers up hair almost as silky as her dress and she watches his eyes for some indication of his intent.
She didn't need to since he was telling her just a few breaths later but green eyes glitter as they catch on his more, watchful, wondering. "Are kisses like bank accounts, to save for?" It would have been coy from most anyone else but she whispers it like a genuine question, as if she truly wanted to know, or understand him.
Billy McCann
Thu 10:16PM CST
"Th'best ones is. An' they's a difference between them and th' rest of them." He grins a moment, and it don't disappear so much as it seeps away. His serious face seems softer for it, though. Or maybe that's just the twilight shaving the hard edges from his features. His left hand stills behind her and shakes free of the strands of her hair. Instead, he wraps calloused fingers around the back of her neck, the base of her skull. Lifts her head the better to see that half-formed smile that tugs the corners of her mouth, and then lifts his right hand off the time-ticking binoculars to brush a calloused thumb across the corners of her mouth. His eyes drift down from her eyes to the shape of her mouth beneath his hand, go near unfocused with remembering. He straightens, and the edge of his grin returns.
"How many loved your moments of glad grace?
And loved your beauty with love false or true?
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face."
Finishes his reciting and tips his head forward, like he didn't mean it at all and he had to go through with it. Entranced by her, or the moment, or maybe by the old eloquence of those recited words. But he just sweeps close, releasing her easily from his grasp while settling his arm around her shoulders. Turning to walk back to the truck. She can feel the solid shape of his arm over her shoulders. The lean strength inherent in the way his body moves over and around hers, the animal confidence of it all. Her hair is caught half by his arm, and half by the wind, and blows about the two of them like its near possessed. He shakes free of it. "Figure its near time fer you t'get home. Wouldn't want no one there t'worry."
Arabella Eberstark
Thu 10:23PM CST
"Well, someday, perhaps I will see." She can't help but smile a touch more, curiousity in this thing. There was a kind of intimacy, almost entrancing in the way he touched her, studied her features like they were an object of art, or intrigue. It made her feel warm inside, that fact she's encountered few who actually looked at her this way, a surprise few could imagine. She stays still, half smiling, under his touch and gaze until he began to recite his verse... and it bloomed more full force. "You do know exactly what to say sometimes, Billy... you've a perfect knacl for it."
Settling into his arm to walk with him, the night made more perfect by the lack of things. She didn't know if she wanted to explore other levls of this... thing... they had, which she'd viewed as friendship until very recently. Walking with him felt eeriely like walking with Jaan, or Rasputin, or Aurich... "Its probably best, if anyone's home, they might wonder. If is the keyword there of course." Feeling a bit lighter and more relaxed now.
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