|
|
August 11, 2003 |
|
| Amber | Trump Deck | Logs | RL Pictures | Main |
Vrokk shoreline ...
Jurt is probably heard before he is seen, walking from the city at a stroll with his hands on an acoustic guitar. He plays it hard and loud, his voice occasionally rising.
Yosannah is brushing off her pants when Jurt arrives, sand falling around her shoeless feet. She reaches a hand into her pocket as if making ready to leave. She turns at the sound of his voice and mutters softly, "...oh Jesus."
Jurt's short hair is mused, sand kicked by his boots every step. Approaching, eyes on the guitar but direction unerringly towards you. He loudly sings, "You! ... You got what I /nee/-/eed/ ... but you say he's just a friend ... but you say he's just friend."
Yosannah crosses her arms over her chest and lifts a hand to her mouth, fingers pressing to her lips in a meek attempt at suppressing a smile, "Jurt! Jesus Christ," she yells out to him, "They'll kick us out of this shadow because of songs like that."
Jurt stops paying with a frown, still walking. "Well shit man, how many songs do you think I know?" He points out, "You know hard it is to do heavy metal on an acoustic guitar?"
Yosannah strolls toward him, shoes dangling in her hand as she looks him over with a lingering gaze, "Mmmm. I can imagine. Listen, I've made a decision..."
Jurt replies, "Hey, me too. Eric Clapton. Nobody can diss that guy." His finger grip the neck of the guitar, a note chord quickly strummed, "Ley-la!" He starts playing. "You got me on my knees, Ley-la!" He much louder than Eric. He closes his eyes and looks up. "Beggin' darlin' please, Ley-la!" He is good enough to sound like Clapton, though he does miss a note in there.
Yosannah lifts her hand over the entirety of her face now, and blinks once or twice, wincing at each missed note. Finally she reaches a hand out and claps the bridge of the instrument, "You know what, this is very charming. And while I could listen to it for hours..." She doesn't expand, gaze insistent.
Jurt, forced to stop, relents. "Fine, fine." He takes a good look at you then, allowing the guitar to hang on the thick green strap around his neck. "Uh oh." Jurt prompts, a little warily, "What's shakin' cucumber?"
Yosannah bites at her lips, pursing them together she chuckles, "Cucumber?" Hair wisps about her face as she opens her mouth to speak. Apparently thinking better then to retort she returns to her earlier comment, "I've made a decision. We need a custody schedule for this beach. I need my thinking spot."
Jurt mms. Looks right and left down the beach, saying nothing at first.
"So this is what I'm thinking. You get week days. I get week nights and week ends. We alternate Christmas, Easter, the Fourth of July and such and... Oh! Federal Holidays." Is she serious? "I want Federal Holidays."
Jurt looks doubtful. Certainly not loud anymore. "Well that answers my first question: Ever spend much time around Earth."
Yosannah nods though seemingly disappointed to have strayed from her urgent issue, "Yes. It's a little place I like to call home. Why?"
Jurt shrugs the question off. "Nothing." He tries thinking seriously about it, little knit at his brow, but only a second or four of silence passes he waves a hand, gesture encompassing the entirety of the beach. "Hey, it's so important to you, it's all yours. That's the gentleman thing to do, right?" That slight knit lingers a little scowl, a step back taken. "Enjoy, think away. It's just another patch of sand to me; millions of others."
Yosannah blinks at him, hand going to the back of her neck and gaze ultimately peering upwards toward the red-black sky. She mutters something under hear breath and then offers "Well, good then. Now that we have that understanding."
Jurt assures, growing stoic, "We got it. It's understood. So uh, I'll just leave you to your beach and thinking."
She draws a circle in the sand with her toe and mutters again, practically inaudible, "... said ...serious.."
He offers, "Sorry for interrupting."
Yosannah shakes her head and offers a little more loudly, "I said I wasn't serious."
Jurt squints a moment, then shakes his head. "Yeah you were. Hey I get it all right, no sweat." Another step back, then another, walking. "No hard feeling, eh? Maybe I'll see you around." With he strums a bad chord on the guitar, then turns , slowly walking around, a few more quiet notes but no singing yet.
Yosannah rolls her eyes at his back and begins to follow after him, "Jurt, come on. Stop playing around." She reaches a hand out, attempting to place it on his shoulder in an effort to get him to slow.
Jurt murmurs, fingers tapping on the strings thoughtfully, "She was Queen for about an hour ... then it all went sour ..." As you touch his shoulder, he slows but doesn't quite stop, asking without looking at you, "Man don't hate when you can think of the perfect song, but you can't quite remember all the words? It's like, 'blah blah tore my feelings like I had none ... blah blah blah' ... I hate having to sneak blah in there."
Yosannah is able to keep pace with him now. "Yeah. Yeah. I do that with Earth songs from the 1980's." She gets caught up in the notion and offers, "There's this one that I can never seem to quite get by Blondie..." Her voice trails off and she shakes her head, "Would you stop walking for a minute."
Jurt complies, stopping. Shoulders slumped, he looks straight up, staring at the sky.
Yosannah exhales and waits a moment for his attention, realizing she's not going to catch his gaze she states, "You know, it's about the other day." There's a moment of silence as she reaches to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Jurt drops his head, giving you a 'no duh' look. "I'm shocked. Hey listen, feel free not to torture me with this, cause if the shoes was on the foot I'd be, uh, you know." He thinks hard, groping for the word, muttering a frustrated 'fuck'. "Whatever, you know what I getting at damn it."
She gnaws at her lip and blows a gust of air from her lungs, cheeks billowing outward, "It was nice. Okay. I thought it was nice." She throws her arms out, frustrated. "Whatidya think I was gonna say?"
Jurt blinks, looking pretty confused. "I thought you were gonna tell me to fuck off, or not be a pussy, or basically just run me through some emotional wringer." Jurt scratches at his cheek.
She looks over her shoulder, brow furrowed as she regards the emerald waters and its rhythmic pounding against the beach. She shakes her head and offers a gentle, 'No,' followed by a pregnant pause. She is reflective, maybe a feint glimmer in her green gaze suggesting that even she is surprised.
Jurt takes his turn to exhale, weighting shifting on his feet. A hand drums on the polished wood of the guitar a few times, "So..."
Yosannah offers, flatly, perhaps wanting to lighten the moment, "So, I'm not asking you to marry me or anything, Jurt. Jesus."
Jurt says "Yeah. I know." He just waves his arms vaguely. A bit of a smile. A chuckle. "Hey what can I say. I'm an idiot."
Yosannah shakes her head and drawls, "I didn't say that."
Jurt clears his throat. "I know, I did. Take my word for it - you'll be less surprised later." Licks his lips, looking around. "So uh, did you have plans or something, or...?"
Yosannah let's a chuckle escape her lips, noting his altered demeanor, "Plans. No. No plans. I uh, I'm just laying low. Staying away form Court side for a few days, and this is where I've been hiding, obviously." She lifts her chin in his direction as she reaches out a hand to strum along the strings in no semblance of order, "What about you?"
Jurt answers, "Yeah ... I mean no, no plans. I'm not very good with plans." He glances at the beach. "I understand hiding out from Chaos, believe you me, but this is the best you got? I mean, you're not sleeping on the beach, are you?"
Yosannah shakes her head with a smile, "No, of course not. I uh..." she clicks her tongue against the bridge of her mouth, "Merle's been back home for a little bit now so I've..." Her voice trials off and her shoulders shrug, "But hey, I got something for you."
Jurt umms, interrupting, "Home?"
She nods and reaches a hand into her jacket pocket, tongue pressed between her lips as she fishes out a smattering of several tarots, "Yeah. Though, home has a loose definition in this circumstance. It just means back around so to speak." Settling on one, she holds it out to him, "Here."
Jurt reaches, taking it with curiosity. "Good to know - I could use him." Jurt eyes the card.
Yosannah crosses her arms, hugging herself. Her head tilts so that she might look at the card as he does, hair falling in her eyes.
Jurt's face falls. He points out, "You're wearing clothes."
Yosannah squints and looks at the card more closely, or at least she appears to, "Well, would you look at that. You're right. Heh, whataya gonna do."
Jurt mms, disgruntled. "Guess I'll take it anyway. I still got my playing cards." He slides it beneath his chainmail, offering a quite, "Thanks though."
Yosannah nods, thoughtful expression and sincerity in her eyes, "Sure. I expect the favor to be returned though. Fair enough?"
Jurt nods a lot. "Oh yeah of course, I already talked to Mirth. He's a good guy, he's on it. Should have a few for me in a few days."
Yosannah nods with him, "Yeah, I know him." Still nodding she adds a little awkward, "So, listen. I gotta crash soon, it's late for me."
Jurt asks, glance once more at the sand, "Where at you staying?"
Yosannah shrugs her shoulders, looking over her shoulder once again. Having a difficult time meeting his gaze tonight, "I don't know." She sighs at this, "I don't know."
Jurt mms, mulling that around. "So you just gotta go - you don't know where." Obviously he's dubious about the deal, that wariness creeping back.
Yosannah looks skyward and rolls her eyes, "What I'm saying, Jurt. Is that I'm hoping you'd have a suggestion of your own. What is it with boys? Why do I have to spell it out?"
Jurt blinks. "Huh? Oh... Oh! Oh right." He sighs, looking down, rubbing at his forehead. "Shit, yeah, right, I follow. I thought you meant ... Nevermind, cool. I have suggestions, yeah, all kinds." He shakes his head, feeling like an idiot, stepping up to put an arm around you. "Lets get out of here."