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Post by Sable Jenkins on May 16, 2007 20:25:18 GMT 7
Location: Train Station Sable scuffed his shoe against the cement floor, hardly captivated by the chaos in the far corner of the subway station. His attention, rather, was focused on keeping the design he patterened in his head long enough to make it home and put it on paper. A little girl in a red raincoat lost her mother on the stairs and had a look of absolute desperation and despair. Sable had only watched her long enough to see her find her mother and go running faithfully back to her side. The image, however, of that youthful fear was one he felt the need to captivate on paper. Unfortunately, his subway was late and now he was leaning against a cement column while a crowd pitched a fit with the ticket director.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Sable bit down on his lip, seesawing his jaw until it was sore. red raincoat, red raincoat, red raincoat. He repeated it in his head over and over again, willing the imagery to not fade before the subway finally reached the station. His dark eyes didn't even bother to glance up at the clock, but it had been ten minutes of waiting so far. With a sigh of anxiety, not from the delay of the bus but the apprehension of forgetting the imagery, Sable glanced around in hopes of seeing a trigger of some sort.
His eyes landed on a case of map brochures for travelers. "Perfect!" Sable didn't even realize he had spoken aloud, and quite loudly, but he dashed off to the side and snatched up a brochure without even thinking. Clucking thoughtfully to himself, he scanned the area before he spotted a young woman digging through her purse. A pen, he needed a pen. He needed to get the basic, simple outline down before the image left him entirely.
"Excuse me," he said, taking a step forward with his hands lifted just enough to show he wasn't a threat. Silly Sable. "Do you have a pen I could borrow just for the next... three minutes?" Eyes bright and brows lifted, he waited with parted lips and the hopefulness of a child.
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Post by delanie roberts on May 17, 2007 16:38:27 GMT 7
This was Delanie's idea of a thrill ride. To claustrophobics, it would the very idea of hell on earth. But she liked crowds. Weaving through the large amount of people, she could see what kinds of people took the train. It was just the way she was. She was intrested in things like this. She held on very tightly to her bag. Sure, she liked walking around 'checking people out', but she didn't trust all of them. God knows, someone might have snatched somewthing witout her knowing. Finally she reached a spot and she was able to breathe.
She fanned herself for a while before rummaging through her bag for her ticket. A monthly one. Because she didn't own a car and public transport was most convienient. So buying a ticket that lasted for a whiole month was cheaper. Even if it was spring, it felt like summer almost, in Huntley. She chose a bad choice of outfit today. She thought it was going to be slightly chilly so she wore her fitting blue jeans and a grey tank top with thin straps. She had thrown a navy leather jacket of the top. Quickly, she pulled her jacet off, feeling instant relief.
She folded it neatly, well as it as it could be, standing up, balancing a bag at the same time. She stuffed it in her bag, she would have to neaten it up later. Now for finding that ticket first. Thankfully, her trainw as late today, so she had some time. Moving her hand through her bag, while she looked up adn biting her lip, in attempt to 'feel' around fo rit. Finally when she pulled it out, she grinned in triumph but her moment was disrupted by someone.
"Do you have a pen I could borrow just for the next... three minutes?"
She turned to head to see a male. He was definately taller than her. She could say that. He had an Italian look about him. She reached into her bag, and pulled out a pen adn held it out to him. "Keep it." She said, flashing a small smile at him. A familiar screech caused her to look up. Lo and behold, the train had arrived. She excused herself from hima dn made her way into the train, through the thinned crowd. The majority of the crowd had gotten on the other train before. Finally, she had reached the train, while people were, too, going inside, she tripped over someone's foot. Luckily, she didn't fall on her face and embarrass herslef. She quickly caught onto the pole and supported herself. She leant against the pole and lifted up her ankle, giving it a rub. It didn't hurt too badly. She could survive.
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Post by Sable Jenkins on May 19, 2007 7:51:53 GMT 7
Sable's brow creased just enough to make a tiny wrinkle on his forehead. He wasn't going to argue with the woman, even though he didn't want to keep the pen. He only needed it for three minutes. Well, two minutes and fifty-five seconds now. And the clock was ticking away.
"Thanks," he murmured, pressing the tip of the pen as quickly as he could against the white backdrop of the train brochure. The ink had barely stained the page when the sound of the train screeched through the air. Sable didn't even lift his eyes to look at it; his concentration remained on the brief and not-quite-thorough sketch he was working on.
With his eyes still on the brochure and small picture he was hastily drawing, Sable took a few steps toward the train. -Move it- A shoulder struck Sable on the right side of his chest, making his body twist and the pen fall from his grasp. Tripping forward, he stumbled into the car of the train just as the doors began to shudder together. His concentration was completely broken and his eyes searched the ground, looking for the pen that was knocked from his hand. Just as the train began to move forward, he caught a glimse of the sidewalk in the station -- and the pen laying on the ground.
The corners of his lips dipped down into a mild frown. Dropping his chin, Sable looked down at the half-sketch on the bent brochure in his hand. With a sigh, he shook his head, folded the paper up, and stuffed it in the pocket of his jeans. Looking up for the first time, he realized the train wasn't too crowded at all. To his left, he saw the young blonde who lent him the pen in the first place.
Taking a half-step forward and attempting to keep his balance, he said, "Hey, your pen got knocked out of my hand back there." Sable nodded in the direction of the blurring sidewalk; the train was picking up speed rapidly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lose it." His lips parted and he cringed a little, obviously apologetic. "I know you said I could keep it," he added, his spare hand lifting to gesture as he spoke, "but I don't want you think it went to waste. I... I wanted to draw something I saw, but it only got halfway done." Sable's eyes dropped to his jean pocket but not for long. "But anyway. Thanks. I'm Sable," he said, sticking out his free hand to shake hers.
Rambling again, like usual.
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Post by delanie roberts on May 22, 2007 17:16:01 GMT 7
Delanie had straightened herself after her almost trip, her own clumsy self's fault. She smoothed out her hair, brushing some strands away from her face. She held a few strands to the light, pondering whether or not, she should get a trim. She mentally shrugged and she swore the doors were about to close, when the male she lent the pen to, stumbled into the cart. The doors closed, the cart jerking forwards as it began to move, she would have fallen on him, but she held on the pole to balance herself. She wasn't going to have another tripping accident. She was already clumsy enough. She looked up, as he began talking. She quickly darted her eyes around, wondering who else he could be talking to. Oh. He was talking to her. She listen to him ramble and almost giggled. She found rambling particularly amusing. But controlled herself. Laughing at people wasn't nice. She shook her head at the apology of the loss of her pen.
"No biggie. I have plenty others. I'm Delanie." She said, shaking his hand. "Only one name Sable? No last name? Being just like Madonna?" She said smiling.
She realized she was still holding her purse and put it back into her bag and closed the zip. She looked around for a while. Seeing if there were any spare seats. No such luck. Although the cart wasn't all that crowded, the seats were all taken. Could have been worse. They could have been crammed in there, barely able to breathe. But they weren't cramped so it was all good. They could breathe too. Oh there she goes again. Rambling mentally. It was like talking to herself. Not cool. It was like she was going psycho or something. Sure she was a ditz at some times, but she wasn't completely mental. She needed to make conversation. He was pretty cute. She couldn't pass up the chance could she?
"So Sable, where are you from?"
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Post by Sable Jenkins on May 22, 2007 21:52:37 GMT 7
Sable shook her hand fervently with a more casual smile on his face than before. He half-expected the young woman to be upset about his loss of her pen; but, then again, she had offered to let him just keep it in the first place. The more he thought about it, the more he realized her reaction was quite normal. It would have been poppycock to get upset about a pen you already offered up to another destiny. Or at least that is what went through Sable's head as he stood there shaking the blonde's hand.
"Jenkins," he added, clearing his throat and letting a broader smile occupy his face. "Sable Jenkins." He released her hand and put his own back in the pocket of his jeans. One hand was holding a rail quite firmly, an unhappy memory of stumbling to the other end of the train giving him more than enough reason to hold onto the steel bar with a deathgrip.
"But good joke, I'll have to remember that," Sable added thoughtfully with a friendly smile. "How about you?" His eyes widened suddenly - his expression was unclear as to whether he was joking or serious when he spoke again. "I promise I'm not a stalker." Sable even lifted one hand from his jean pocket in emphasis of his statement. He didn't look much like a stalker type, but there was no telling what might run through the mind of a young woman on a subway train all by herself. He might as well be safe than sorry.
Leaning his weight against the wall of the train and the nook at the corner of a metal seat, Sable answered, "Here, actually." He glanced out the window at the cement walls blurring together from the speed of the train. "I was born in the Big Apple and I've never left, strangely enough." He frowned a little at the passing thought, but his frown didn't linger. With bright eyes, he put on a smile and asked, "Are you from around here? You seem pretty comfortable so my guess is either you are, or you have lived here for awhile. Or maybe you're just a very confident woman," Sable said with a grin.
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Post by delanie roberts on May 23, 2007 17:40:11 GMT 7
"Nice to meet you Sable Jenkins." She said said releasing her hand after the shake and moved it so she could hook her thumb on her pocket. "It's Roberts. Only fair right? You tell me yours, I tell you mine. I figured you weren't. I don't see binoculars or a suspicious newspaper with eyeholes cut out." She joked. It was slightly weird. Usually, when she just met a guy, she would be practically mute, not really talking much. But he was different. Somehow. She shrugged it off. She was just glad she had a new friend. New friends were awesome. Unless he suddenly decided to hate her.
"Actually, I was born in Vancouver, but came here, or near here when I was young. I lived in California for a while and when I got accepted at the University, I moved here." She explained. "Comfortable? Not exactly. I have my days where I get lost, so I have ask around for directions so I can get back to my apartment." She said giggling. The train stopped at the stop adn other people got in, people getting out. It wasn't her stop yet. As the train jerked, her grip on the pole tightened. And then stood abck for people to enter the train.
A few minutes later, the train began to move again, her grip on the pole still a little tight. As the train began to mvoe more smoothly, her grip loosened, but still remained. She noticed the cart had begun to get crowded. A lady on her right, with a pram, excused her politely, as she wanted to hol onto the pole she was holding on, she Delanie moved over to the other side, so the woman had more room. She smiled in thanks and watched her sleeping baby. Del had a soft spot for small children. She had many cousins, much younger than her and loved to spoil them. She turned to face Sable. More like looking up, as he was quite tall. Well, taller than her. It was rude to talk to someone while not facing them. "I don't think I've seen you around Rutherford before. Are you a student?"
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Post by Sable Jenkins on May 27, 2007 0:11:54 GMT 7
"Right," he said in agreement, nodding and smiling at the blonde woman beside him. "For all I know you might be the stalker," Sable added with a cocked brow and suspicious glance. It wasn't uncommon for the Italian to crack jokes on people he only just met. Whether or not they took him seriously was left up to their own thoughts, however. He never spoke with intent to harm or harass; rather, he was a playful man despite his strong nose and determined chin. Dark eyes often danced with humour and his smile was lost on no one.
Sable appeared surprised to hear the woman was from Vancouver. "Canada?" he questioned, more rhetorical than requiring a response. "Wow, you don't have an accent," he said, tilting his head at an angle and looking at her curiously. Sable was constantly intrigued with other countries and places unknown to him. His eyes were wide when he asked, "Do you miss it?" Shifting his weight to his left foot, he added, "I have never really been anywhere outside of New York. I mean, I've been to some surrounding states but never anywhere really interesting. Except Florida... Florida was nice. A little too warm, though." He smiled, that child-like sense of sensation in his warm eyes.
He laughed when Delanie spoke of getting lost on her way to her apartment. He wasn't laughing at her; he was just giggling along with her. She seemed to have some genuine sense of life around her. It was hard to explain, even to his own thought process, but she was practically bursting with... something. Sable couldn't think of any other way to describe it besides life itself. She was young, relatively confident, and had a smile that made her entire face light up. There was definitely life flowing all around her - she would make a great subject to paint if he could remember all of her features.
When she adjusted her position and then looked up at him, Sable raised an eyebrow in anticipation. Sometimes you could just tell when a question was ready to be pounced and now seemed to be an opportune moment on her end. "A student?" Sable shook his head in response. "No, I'm not. I live in New York. I'm a painter," he added, nodding and smiling to support his words. "Or, an artist, I guess."
Tightening and loosening his grip on the steel rail while the train moved slowly on, he asked, "What are you studying?" Sable had never gone to college: he never really had the interest. Besides, even if he wanted to go, he couldn't afford it now. It would require the financial assistance from his parents and that was something he wasn't willing to turn to quite yet. Instead, he stepped out into the real world and was learning from the people who made a living doing what Sable dreamed of.
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