Sable Skwigelf, nee. Harris (ex_sable973) wrote in utr_logs, @ 2009-03-26 00:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | sable harris, soren skwigelf |
WHO: Sable and Soren Skwigelf
WHAT: Honeymoon!
WHEN: ...various times?
WHERE: All OVER the place!
WARNINGS: Almost certainly.
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They're being gypsies. For a few days, Sable is taking Soren home. Not just to where she grew up, but how. It's a frantic existence. They went by portkey to America carrying only backpacks and anything else they could easily take in a shoulderbag or purse, but once in the States, Sable cheerfully informed Soren that they had three hours to get enough cash for bus tickets. She wouldn't say where to, but instead dragged him down the street, hand-in-hand, chattering about how she was going easy on him starting off in New York City, because there was ALWAYS work for roadies at the theatres here.
True to her word, it took barely half an hour for her to find a place willing to hire them for a few hours unpacking vans and cleaning and doing odd jobs, keeping their bags locked in the manager's office. They trade a little labor for a slice of pizza and enough cash for bus tickets, and barely make it on board at the Greyhound station.
Now, their luggage stowed in upper compartments except for Sable's messenger bag full of books and whatnot, she lays curled up against him on the quite nice bus seat, smirking at him cheekily as the driver announces arrival time at their final stop would be 5 a.m. the next morning.
"I'm very sure," she says, "that spending the night after your wedding on a bus with people stranger than fairy tale folk was not how you and Cass did it. But baby... you want to REALLY know who I am, where I came from? This is it. Get comfortable. It's a long ride. I do have arrangements where we'll be ending up, though." She reaches for his hand. "Having second thoughts yet?"