Savannah Posey (jurisdoctor) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2016-06-25 16:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2019 [06] june, arthur jenner, savannah posey |
Who: Savannah and Art
Where: somewhere in the Greenbelt
What: Savannah thanks Art for the flowers
When: June 9, afternoon, after food truck shenanigans
It had been a few days since Art’s surprise delivery, and though she'd wanted to thank him earlier, she'd been a little occupied trying to figure out how the LBJ was going to transition in this new government’s regime. Mandatory registration was approaching as was the opening of housing. All skepticism aside, she was looking forward to the coming changes. Once most of the fires had been put out she managed to carve a few hours out for herself and drove to the Dog Park, texting Art that he should meet her at the gate with his bike. She had a slight case of wanderlust she hoped he could quench. Grinning at the sight of him, she stepped forward and hugged him. “Thanks again for the flowers,even if my nosy-as-hell brother is askin’ question now. How long did it even take you to get all those?” Dust kicked out around Savannah’s car as she drove. Art had watched it from a distance, leaning on his bike and taking in the sight of her getting out. There seemed to be a halo of light around her, and now he was terribly glad that he’d taken the time to wash up and trim his beard enough to look clean. Thank God for Cherry, she knew exactly how to make a man feel decent about himself. Be it in bed, or with a clipper. “You know, when people started looting and going through Austin for anything they could find, fake flowers in craft stores weren’t high on the list,” Arthur said, grinning. He walked over to her and slipped the helmet over her head- but not before taking the time to brush hair out of her eyes and to linger on her cheekbones. “So, where am I taking you, Princess? Off to the ball until midnight?” Savannah flipped up the protective plastic of the full-face helmet, though her voice was still slightly muffled as she said, “You’re out of luck because my carriage turns back into a pumpkin long before dark,” she laughed, then added, “ And I’m not exactly dressed for the ball. I didn’t think dresses were good for ridin’ motorcycles. But I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can talk?” Though she found herself very attracted to Art, she realized she didn’t actually know much about him. Added to the fact that she was basically always surrounded by people, some solitude sounded real nice right about now. Art thought for a moment, and then nodded- he knew exactly where to take her. He held up a finger, as if to tell her to hold on, and with nowhere else to go, she stayed planted. A quick trip to his RV, and he came back with two large bottles of water, and a small pack of basic foodstuffs. Packing them all into the bags on his motorcycle, he got his own helmet on and roared the bike into life. The ride was easy, even when they passed a few of the undead. Art didn’t stop to show off killing them, he just rode by with a shotgun waiting and ready at his side if they needed it. When they needed it. The location was Auditorium Shores park- once bright and full of green and blue water, it looked different. But the dead trees offered shade, and what Arthur was really after was the small Palmer Events Center- the drooping, lazy building with plenty of shade. He rode right up to the doors, helped Savannah off, and then opened the doors for them with a push. After checking the main room, he walked his bike inside and closed the doors. Savannah eased the helmet off her head and placed it on Art’s bike before raising her hands to smooth down her hair. If she was going to keep doing this, she was going to have to get used to helmet hair. “I’ve been here once before,” Savannah said quietly, for some reason feeling the need to whisper, despite the fact that they seemed to be alone in the entrance hall. “My law firm got invited to a benefit here. Seein’ my boss drunk was just about of the funniest things I’ve ever seen,” she chuckled. On the other side of multiple sets of doors were two large exhibit halls, rooms that she’d seen done up with lush decorations, banquet tables scattering the room and surrounding a large dance floor. Who knew what it looked like these days, though. Pulling herself out of her reminiscing, she turned to face Art and asked, “How’d you know about this place?” Art was very quiet for a moment, hanging the helmets off of the bike and running a hand through his own brown locks. He hadn’t been in Austin for anything but rehab before, and he didn’t really want to go into it with Savannah right then. Going into it with anyone was hard enough, after all. “I like nature,” he said finally, which was true. “When I came out to Austin, I wanted green and water like in Boston. I found a little.” A good enough of a reason, right? “I like nature, too,” Savannah smiled. “But my kind is more of the blue stuff. My family used to spend weekends at the beach. Guess that might be a little different up north, though,” she said, resisting the urge to call him a Yankee. “Now, I brought some food and water. You asked me out for a picnic, or had we better talk first? Because I can’t figure if you wanted me to show you a good time, or if you needed me and privacy for another reason.” Her smile dulled and she looked at Art with mild confusion. Did he think something was wrong and they needed to “talk”? She was not the kind of woman to make things serious too soon. Shaking her head a bit and laughing now, she said, “Well I was hopin’ this afternoon would be a good time but when I said talk, I really meant talk. I don’t know a damn thing about you, really. Well, besides that you’re from Boston and can fix up a motorcycle real nice. There’s gotta be more to you, right?” She teased. Okay, Art could work with that. He smiled and put his hands up as if he were surrounding to the pint-sized blonde. “Okay, Princess. I should have known that your intentions were very pure,” Arthur said, putting down all the food. From one of the bike’s packs he pulled out a thick blanket as well, laying it out and offering her a seat with him, which she quickly accepted, sitting cross legged. “Well, I am from Boston. And I do fix up motorcycles really nice. Maybe that’s it,” Arthur said, smiling and bumping her shoulder with his own. “What do you want to know? Okay, here’s a fun fact- I was raised by the Catholic Church. We can blame that for any and all faults I have,” he teased. “Really? Do you still believe in God? Because I don’t know much about bein’ Catholic, but I think it’s good to have faith in a higher power. I don’t take the bible literally or anythin’ but there’s gotta be somethin’ bigger out there,” Savannah said, smiling despite the fact that they were talking about religion, which was usually a social taboo, especially when first getting to know someone. “So what are we supposed to blame my faults on then? My goin’ to Sunday School and singin’ in the choir?” “Mhm. I believe in God, the Virgin Mary, all of it. I just think maybe God’s a bit more understanding than he might have been before, considering our current situation,” Art said, spreading his arm towards the large windows showing the devastated Austin, Savannah nodding in agreement. He turned back to Savannah and smiled; his eyes seemed to warm whenever he did that. As if the real Art, the animated and good parts of Art, came up to the surface at each smile. “I don’t think you’ve got faults, Princess. But tell me more about Sunday school and singing in the choir. Did the birds come to sing it out with you?” he asked. Savannah bit her lip and shook her head, somehow amused and sad at the same time. “You’re gonna be so disappointed once you realize I’m not how you think I am,” she said, a teasing edge to her voice, though she meant every word. “But we can worry about that later. For now, I’ll have you know that not one bird has ever sang a song with me or helped me sew a dress. Can you even believe that?” Smirking now, she added, “Don’t they know who I am?” “Clearly they don’t,” Art offered her some of the food- but right as it looked like she might lean in and take a bite of the fruity, lunch box snack he leaned in and stole a kiss from her instead. His chin bumped hers, the fruity snack almost pressed between them. Savannah laughed against his lips, feeling like a damn teenager. “There you go. Every princess needs her kiss, right? Maybe the birds will get the memo now.” “I think they’ll know better now,” she agreed quietly, stealing one last kiss before sitting back and grabbing another fruit snack to pop in her mouth. “Alright, so you learned something about me. What about you? How did little Savannah grow up when she wasn’t singing choir?” Arthur was fully aware that the woman in front of him wasn’t an angel, wasn’t a princess- but to him, she could be. She was kind and beautiful, and he got the feeling that she rather liked being doted on, teased and spoiled sweetly. He wanted to do that spoiling, for as long as she allowed. “Mostly at the beach, swimmin’ around the the ocean and squishing sand between my toes,” she said, smiling at the memories, before laughing and saying, “‘Course there was school and the debate team and the student council.” She uncrossed her legs and stretched them out, nudging Art with her foot. “But seems like I’m still doin’ a lot of that these days. What about you? How’d you get from Catholic school boy to ridin’ with the Hellhounds?” “Beach, swimming, sand? You a mermaid, too?” “No. Last time I checked I still had legs instead of fins, but my daddy used to say I must’ve been a fish in a past life,” Savannah smiled. Oh hell, that was a hell of a story. And not one that he was ready to trust her with. Art leaned back, resting on his elbows and giving the other a good looking before starting with something that was not a lie, but was not the whole truth either. “I got into some trouble after school ended, caught the eye of, well. The mob. Irish. Hung out with them, got my asses handed to me a few times. Straightened out, came to Austin to keep doing that. World ended, I knew how to ride a bike and I wanted a pack. I like packs, I like… being apart of a family. Even if it’s not a normal sort of family. Hell, I wouldn’t even know what normal family is like- my Ma died when I was little, no Dad.” “I like where I am now. Couldn’t say that before, ever. Maybe that’s dumb.” Savannah nudged Art with her foot, making sure to catch his gaze. Even if she’d made a point of dedicating her life and career to upholding the law, she could understand the reasons Art may have had for getting in with those who were less abiding. And at least the Hellhounds were changing their ways. “That’s not dumb at all. People just want to feel like they belong. Like you said, we want to feel like we have our pack and now you’ve found them. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” Art smiled, looking into her blue pool eyes. He wanted to lean over and kiss her, but it didn’t feel right at that moment. She was a fairy princess sitting on a dewdrop to him in that moment, and while he knew that time and knowledge might marr that image, he wanted it to hang true for a few moments more. “You found your pack?” he asked her. “I hear you’re top dog. But it doesn’t mean that’s your rightful place.” Nudging him with her foot again, this time a playful gesture, she gave him a faux-scowl. Sure, she had her insecurities about whether she was doing the right thing or if she even belonged in the position she had, but she wasn’t ready to let those chinks in her armor show to Art just yet. “Not my rightful place? I’ll show you who’s top dog,” she said, moving over to Art and after another playful shove to get him more reclined, straddled his waist. “You got nothin’ on me, Mister Secretary. Admit it,” she taunted, her face inches away from his, moments from a kiss, but she held back, waiting for him to admit defeat. If Art had wanted to stop her, he could have- she was small and light, he was big and used to fighting hard. Fighting for his life, with nothing but fists and a gun. He laughed when she got on top, raising a brow and licking his lips. Okay, this was a new, fun way to flirt. He settled his hands on her waist and leaned up, trying to catch a kiss from her. “Alright, you can be on top of me whenever you want, Princess. I’ll be your humble servant,” he promised her, his voice soft and almost lost over the deafening silence of dying Austin. |