McCree Cemetery
For the most part, the cemetery seems to be a quiet and serene spot for both the souls that rest below and those that come to pay respect to their loved ones. A packed dirt pathway continues through the grounds boxing off expanses of green lawns that have gravestones of different shapes and ages.
Off in the southeast corner is an area of the grounds that seems to have gone forgotten. Overgrown with weeds, vines and various other plants, a cluster of old and broken gravemarkers clutter the area. Even on the sunniest of days, this section has an extreme sense of foreboding to it.
The week has come to the end. And with the sun hanging in the sky on this lazy hazy crazy Sunday. And yet, for some strange reason, the cemetery is where Hyde is lurking. Dressed casually, but still considerably more put together in a nice black polo and black slacks, the man stands before a headstone with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks uncomfortable, and stiff…but most of all, he looks devoted. His silence, rather than being sullen and mocking as usual, is respectful…almost peaceful in nature.
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Sundays are generally great days to go out and see different things, gather ideas for paintings, and then paint them. Rather than doing that today though, Scarlett has been wandering at the lake, making sketches. As she comes up from the area, she wanders by the cemetery. Sketchbook in hand still. Noting the familiar figure, she flips open her book and seats herself quietly on a nearby bench, trying to capture the expression as best and as quickly as she can. The stiffness of his stance, the arms crossing over his chest. The entirety of it. While she should feel guilty for capturing such a private moment, she can't help wanting to do something nice for him.
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Hyde's silent, solitary vigil is not interrupted, which - truly? Makes him one of the best live subjects to feature in a painting or a quick sketch. He stands unbearably still for unbearably long, until it looks as though he might have been turned into a fleshy statue by some Medusa's stare - but then in the blink of an eye - he's moving. His arms uncross, and he lowers himself to one knee, just so he can pat at the grassy floor in a fond manner, before making his way to his feet with the clear intention of leaving the cemetery now that his duty is done.
Except he doesn't. And why is that? Because, his eyes have crossed Scarlett's path, and has decided to stare at her, openly and without reservation.
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The long, uninterrupted stance is nice to sketch. She does a quick preliminary, and begins filling out the detail while he takes his time. When he moves, she flips the sketchpad page, and begins again, catching that one as well. It's not until he winds up staring at her that Scarlett bothers to look up. She has no shame in what she's doing, just offers him a smile, then looks back down at the pad to finish filling in the detail as much as she can while it's still fresh in her memory.
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It doesn't take very much for Hyde to get an idea of what's going on. She's alternating between looking at him and looking down to the sketch that she's doing. And how does Hyde react? Well…he doesn't really. But he does take large, sweeping steps towards the woman, waiting until he's close enough to peer at her handiwork before speaking. "…Do I need to get a restraining order on you? Stalking now, are you?"
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"Sketching, actually." Flipping back to the original sketch, the more finished one, she shows it to him. "It's hardly perfect but…" Shrugging, Scarlett decides to fill in a little more detail now that he's up close. "Never actually stalked a subject, and you weren't actually my goal. I just liked the visualization you presented." There is a question on the tip of her tongue, but she nibbles on her lower lip to prevent her from asking it.
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"Sketching me while I'm unaware. You're either obsessed with me or really creepy." Hyde drawls as he comes up before Scarlett, standing behind her bench. The way his hand settles down to rest upon her shoulder? Well…it's casual and comfortable. There is a pause, then, before finally he lets out a long, deliberate sigh of disappointment. "Do it," he grunts. "Just say it."
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"You ever been sketched before?" Quite likely, it's not the question he was expecting. The other will come, but only when he decides he wants to talk about it. Far be it for Scarlett to bring up a potentially sore subject. "You make an outstanding model, as it were." When his hand touches upon her shoulder, she slips the pencil into the sketchbook, and gently closes it. The rest of the detail will have to be taken from memory, but if she does it as soon as she gets back to the ARTS she should be able to handle that well enough.
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"No." Hyde remarks, sounding almost slow and bored. Whether or not he's pleased that she didn't ask the obvious question is impossible to discern - though his fingers do flex on her shoulders. "I would imagine so. I'm fucking handsome," no lack of self esteem here, folks, none at all. "People want to look at me."
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Tilting her head to the right, Scarlett smiles. "You are. Mind if I finish these up and paint them for the studio?" At least she's asking permission about it. "I'll show them for a week, then they're yours if you want them. Free of charge, since you're the subject matter." Leaning her head upward so she can look at him, she smiles. "Heard you're quite the hero and all. Congrats."
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"Do you need me to keep modeling for you, then? Because if so, then it'll cost you…" Perhaps not money, but he needs to get something out of the deal. it's how he behaves with everything. Nothing is free, and if it is, then there's probably a trick or an ulterior motive attached. However, when she smiles and comments on his deeds, Hyde rolls his eyes in a liberal fashion. "Yeah," he grunts. "That's retarded. But thanks."
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"We'll see." Scarlett isn't going to do a whole series on him or anything, but she's not going to discount the possibility of it in the future. "Depending on the cost and all." When he rolls his eyes at her, she snickers gently. "Don't, Surly. You did something good. Accept it." Reaching up to place her hand on his she looks forward again. "I think this is the first time I've been here."
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"Well what would you be willing to pay with?" Hyde inquires, allowing his touch to become momentarily sensual in nature as his thumb traces up her neck in a featherlight touch. But then, she's telling him to accept what he did, and placing a hand ontop of his…And then, Hyde attempts to pull away from her. "I just shot a stupid animal. No big deal. And the first time you've been to this cemetery, or any cemetery?"
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There's nothing holding him to her. If he wants to pull away, he can. Scarlett won't even take it to heart. Drawing her feet up onto the bench, she rests the sketchbook on her knees and looks out at the graves. "Any, I think. May have been to one when I was younger, but I don't really like them." She looks over her shoulder at him. "It's the caskets, and being buried. Tends to set off minor bouts of the claustrophobia. Like this though, without someone out in the open in a casket… it seems almost peaceful."
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And pull away Hyde does. The cemetery is too personal, too…cemetery-like for any sort of affection. It would dishonor the dead. Plus, he doesn't want her so close right now. "It is peaceful. There's a certain energy found at cemeteries that you will not find anywhere else. There's no where else like it, when you want to think." This is uttered with the deepest reverence from the normally brash and rude individual.
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His attitude nearly causes her to spin around fully. Instead, Scarlett remains silent, soaking in the small amount of peacefulness before her anxiety kicks in. "I go to the museum for that." Then again, she's an artist. "But thinking in a place like this, with so much history underfoot…" She can see the appeal in it.
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"There are people in museums. There are asshole officionados, buying into the corporate definition of art. There are pretentious fuckers, self-appointed critics, and bratty children. Museums aren't relaxing. They're annoying." It's a given that anything Hyde says is based directly upon his own opinions and experiences. But then, he's moving. His hand held out to her expectantly, he arches his brows in her direction. "Follow me."
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There is a moment's hesitation, but Scarlett takes the hand, and gets up from the bench. The sketchbook is tucked neatly under her arm. "I suppose it depends on where you go in the museum. There are pieces that no one cares for, and so there are quiet areas." Then again, she likes museums so she doesn't see all of that. "Though I can see how that would be annoying."
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Hyde curls his hand over hers, tucking her into him in a complete fashion. Silently, without so much as glancing back to her, he leads her forward, deeper and deeper into the ceremony. Up ahead, is a particular grassy plain, where the headstones become more and more scarce. And ahead of them all, is an ancient-looking tree. Away from the public, deep into the cemetery, Hyde is dragging her over to his nook, where he goes during his most serious moments. "Sit," he instructs gruffly.
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His manner just seems so conflicted and off. Scarlett allows him to lead her along, and doesn't say a word. There's not even a protest as he orders her to sit like a dog. She simply slides the sketchbook from beneath her arm, giving the tree a curious glance as she sits beneath the shade of it.
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"Close your eyes." Hyde hasn't released Scarlett quite yet, as he makes his way down onto the floor as well, leaning his back against the broad trunk. "Take in a deep breath. And just…feel. Feel the texture of the tree bark on you back, the soil beneath you. Listen to the silence, and smell the richness of the air. And then…then tell me what you see." Gently, his fingers trail against the back of her hand.
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Allowing her eyes to close, Scarlett leans back against the tree. She inhales deeply once. Then again. She waits for the silence as he finishes speaking, then repeats the entire process again. Trying to feel what he feels, and hear what he hears. Unfortunately, as artistic as Scarlett is, she's not very poetic. When her eyes finally open, she blinks them once. "I see a lot of space and markers, but I can feel more than that."
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Hyde emits a low snort of amusement from beside her. "I didn't mean literally see, moron." He jabs at, although it's without the heat he normally insults strangers with so…that's a positive sign? "Tell me what you feel then." Still, he has not forcibly removed his hand from holding onto hers.
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Just like that, Scarlett turns to stick her tongue out at him. Eyes drift closed again, and she rests her head back against the tree. "Silence. Serenity. Peacefulness. There's something grounding about it all." Then she's smiling. She wants to paint the tree now, and may do so at a later date. "You're right. This would be a wonderful place to be by yourself and think."
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"Tshe. I should take that tongue away from you, if you're going to go sticking it out at inappropriate times and all. Very immature." Hyde drawls with slight bemusement. But after this, his brows furrow. Silently, he peers to Scarlett while she sits with her eyes shut. Taking the time to really allow his eyes to roam over her features, to explore every contour of her face, the exact angle of the slope of her cheek… "I'm always right." He distractedly pipes up.
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"Sometimes, Hyde, it's okay to be immature." Not often, but sometimes that playful side of Scarlett comes out. Peeking one eye open, she quickly shuts it again and allows him just to watch her. It's only fair. She was doing it to him while he was sleeping. "You seem to be on most things. It's uncanny, and amusing. You're also very sure of yourself." Which would bother most people, but not her.
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There is not even an attempt at being modest from this young handyman, nor does he let up on his silent appraisal of her. It is indeed only fair. "I know myself better than anyone else. And I know people better than they know themselves as well. It's not difficult to be right all the time when you're the only one to admit to the ugly truths of life." It's not being cynical, it's being factual!
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The eye peeks open again, and she gives him a half smile. "Armchair psychology. You're actually really good at that, Surly. Ever consider taking one of those night courses and getting your degree?" Scarlett doesn't care if he's more interested in being a mechanic. All the power to him. It's just that he is really good about it, even if tactlessly blunt sometimes.
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"The educational system in play is a joke. I'm already a student of psychology, under the instruction of Mother Earth, if you're looking for something terribly cheesy. Why the fuck should I pay, just to have the theories of some dead guy thrust upon me. It discourages thinking, experiencing and theorizing for oneself." Hyde is harsh and derisive as he even considers the possibility. In the end, he turns back to staring to the cemetery. "I draw my own conclusions. I teach myself. And I don't need some fucking piece of paper to tell me what I do or so not know."
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"Just a suggestion, it's not like I've spent a great deal of time worrying about educating myself." She has gone to school to take classical art training, but that's a lot different than book-learning in her mind. "A student of life is probably a lot more practical anyhow. Makes you more observant." Scarlett brings her knees up to her body, and hugs them to herself.
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"Yeah well, thanks but no thanks." Hyde ends up brushing off with a shrug of his shoulders. "In the end, those motivated to learn will do so, with or without formal classes. Except the latter will save a shitload of money doing so." But then, she's hugging herself. Slowly, he arches his brow, the perpetual frown on his face curling. "What're you doing?"
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"Getting comfortable." There's nothing wrong with her, nothing odd. She just sits like this sometimes when she's thinking. "I suppose, though it's hardly useful to educate yourself when potential employers generally seek diplomas." Scarlett's nose wrinkles upward. "It's sometimes a no-win situation I guess. I'm happy with what I've chosen for myself though, so I feel bad for those that struggle to find out what they really want from life."
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Slowly, since the moment seems to call for it, Hyde begins to slide his hand out of hers. There's no real reason to hold on any longer, and so instead he decides to scratch at the stubble growing on his chin with that hand. "That's because the promotion of diploma-based hiring promotes the educational industry. It's a lucrative one. The truth is, diploma or no diploma, it all breaks down to the individual. A driven, innovative person will succeed no matter their level of schooling. A lazy fuck will flop even if they attended Harvard. Attending the 'best' schools doesn't make you smarter than anyone else, just richer." Hyde has a wealth of experience when it comes to dealing with this particular topic, as he was pressured to attend Princeton from the cradle. "Don't feel bad for them. They're experiencing one of the joys of life. The epic quest, if you will."
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Scarlett will just continue to silently feel bad for them. Not everyone can wind up with a job they love, and one that actually makes them decent coin from time to time. "Money is circular. You generally need money to get the education that most places would like you to have, and then you need that education to make money. It's one of those things that I find ridiculous, but that's life." It's something her twin will never understand, that's for sure. With her hand freed up, she ruffles it through her hair, then sighs. "You're probably going to hate me for saying this, but I actually enjoy talking with you."
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"Why would I hate you for saying that? I'd love to talk to me too." Hyde drones out, honest despite his unorthodox narcissism. Slowly allowing his eyes to shut, the man leans back against the bark of the tree casually, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. "And it is. Almost as fucking insane as capitalism."
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"Welcome to the American Dream." Scarlett shakes her head. Then she stretches her legs out, and rolls up onto her side, leaning on her elbow so that she can watch him. "Well let's clone you then, Surly. Set it up so you can talk to yourself." Reaching a hand up, she brushes his hair from his face and smiles. He always looks so peaceful when his eyes are closed.
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"Wont happen. Too much awesome in one room would rip the space time continuum." Hyde grunts. Slowly, he follows suit, sticking out his long legs as he settles against his perch more permanently. He doesn't even protest the use of her nickname for him - as it looks as though he has finally resigned to its daily presence. Seemingly out of things to say, he returns to a kind of peaceful silence, allowing her to brush his hair away without verbally eschewing her for doing so.
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There is a soft laugh, and Scarlett drops her hand to his shoulder. "Too bad, two Hyde's could have been fun…" A teasing little musing, but then she's allowing that silence between them. It's amazing how it's not at all awkward. Leaning up, she goes to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose and then shifts back normally so she can just stare out into the cemetery.
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And he doesn't even comment on how inappropriately affectionate that kiss was. Or how it was much too cutesy for him. Or how she should never, ever kiss him out of the context of lust, because that would mean she was developing feelings and attachments to him that might lead to her downfall. Or any of the usual fair Hyde delivers monotonously on a fairly regular basis. No…Hyde decides to ignore the motion altogether, with the exception of the slightest twitch of his nose. It's a calculated neutrality. "I didn't know you'd be up for a threesome."
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"Two of you? Actually, you'd probably wear me out." Another soft laugh issues, and Scarlett falls silent for a long while. He didn't comment, he didn't shake her away. She's actually almost weirded out by that, but then just shrugs it off. "But like you said. Too much awesome in one room…" She'd snicker, but it's just inappropriate to.
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"Most likely. Like sleeping with a force of nature." Hyde points out, finally opening his eyes to stare at the woman with a side-long, almost discreet look. Also, the very fact that Hyde just freaked her out by literally doing nothing means he just won. "Why're you here, Scarlett."
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"Hurricane Hyde." A new nickname? Too long for her general list of nicknames. Scarlett doesn't notice the side-long stare, she's just busily looking out at the cemetery in the distance. Trying to get over her fear of what lies below the earth. "I was sketching in the park and took a shortcut. Why?" She knows that's not what he means at all, but that's the answer he's getting.
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"You say you never wandered cemeteries before…it's an awfully big coincidence that you chose today of all days to hazard through, isn't it?" Hyde is merely musing at this point, truth be told. So much so that he decides to brush aside the semantics of his new nickname entirely. And if Scarlett doesn't answer adequately, then he'll continue until she, exasperated, gives in.
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"I don't wander cemeteries. They're creepy." Scarlett turns back to watch him for a moment, then looks upward at the budding tree. "Though I suppose you're wanting me to admit stalking you like I'm a silly schoolgirl with a crush." There's a beat and she grins wryly at him. "I suppose deep down I just had a feeling that today was a good day for this shortcut. It must be because you were here."
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"Well, something brought you here. If it wasn't your conscious, perhaps it was your subconscious. Either that or fate. Destiny. God. Whatever you prescribe to." Hyde reasons out slowly, crossing his hands over his chest. "And was it?" He decides to take his questioning on the opposite side of the spectrum, now. Just to catch her off-guard.
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"I ran into you, didn't I?" Not to mention she got two great sketches she can paint up later out of it. "Fate. Is that what you want it to be? Destiny bringing us together, or God laughing at the fact we run into each other at the oddest locations?" Scarlett shrugs, resting back almost serenely against the tree. "Whatever it is, I'm not fighting it."
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"And that makes it a good thing. Running into me." Hyde repeats slowly, tasting the cadence of each and every syllable in a thoughtful fashion. "Mhmm? I don't want it to be anything. I merely recognize a pattern when one is presented to me. And if something isn't weaving out said pattern…" He offers his own shrug right here. "I wonder if you could fight it."
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"We're already both aware that I'm pretty sucky at fighting things." Scarlett broke her wrist last time she attempted to fight something that was obviously meant to happen for whatever reason. "Actually, yeah. It does make it a good thing. Like I said, I enjoy talking to you. You tend to bring a whole new perspective to things, and I appreciate that." Just by talking with her, he's kept her from yet another panic attack.
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Hyde snorts in mild amusement at her play on words, and the roll of his eyes are more fond than exasperated. "Yeah, aint that the truth. But that's not what I meant and you know it. Or am I severely overestimating your intelligence?" Beat. "But could you, you think? Could you deny something that was, by whatever means, meant to happen? Does the human condition grant us the ability to rewrite our future?" Some food for thought, there. "You also like sexing me."
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Could she? Deny something that was intended to happen? Well she obviously didn't even though she should have. "No, I know what you meant, but either way, it's still very much the truth. I tend not to fight what life throws at me. It seems really pointless to do so." Except for that one aspect that she does fight — her extended family. "I really would like to think that not everything is written in stone, and that we have some say into what happens to us. Our decisions bring us to the places we wind up." Then it's her turn to roll her eyes at him, in exasperation. "Yeah, that too, Hurricane Hyde."
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Yes, she should have. "Really? You don't take comfort in the thought that, perhaps, everything happens for a reason? Like in literature? You aren't calmed and seduced by the possibility that there is a plan for your life - meaning, or a calling of some sort?" Hyde inquires, narrowing his eyes in her direction as he attempts to read her very expressions. "Perhaps I'm a tool, being used to teach you a lesson."
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"Keep that up, Hyde, and I'm going to keep giving you nicknames. Would you like to be called Yoda next?" Scarlett grins, then glances back up into the branches of the tree. "How is that calming? Thinking that my life isn't in my own hands? If I thought that, I'd honestly have just let my grandfather run my life as he saw fit." The slightest of frowns, but she's quickly trying to force it away. "My decisions are my own. I have free will. If that fits into some larger design, so be it… but I have to believe that I have some say in what happens to me."
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"It takes away your accountability," Hyde drones out, instructing her as to why some find the concept appealing. "Your mistakes are not your own. They were destined to happen, according to some cosmic scheme. They exist to teach you a lesson. No matter what happens, you're exactly where you're supposed to be…you're not a 'lost soul'. This comforts." Beat. "Free will is all fine and dandy. But are you willing to face the repercussions of your actions, if need be? Would you stand behind them, one hundred percent?"
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"I always have, and if I'm absolutely incorrect on something, I know how to apologize." Scarlett knows she's not little-Miss-Innocent here, but she also knows that for every mistake she's made, she's also made an apology. "It's a cop out, is what it is. Saying that you have no control over your actions or your decisions, or your mistakes? It's a total cop out. 'Sorry I slept with your boyfriend, it was destiny'… yeah, that just doesn't cut it for me." Even though, yeah, she was sort of that person. She admitted it though.
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"Maybe. But unless you have total control over yourself…unless you intentionally made every mistake you have, then it's all a cop out." Hyde isn't trying to grill Scarlett, or trap her, or anything. This is how he thinks, by posing questions. Granted, usually it's to himself. But since she's here…since he can stand her, and she has professed to enjoy talking to him, and he can - why not extend his musings, over to her as well? "Ah, well." With a sigh, it seems the man has grown tired of the Philosophy of Hyde. "Was I a mistake?" …Or maybe not.
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"Some mistakes can be intentional. The ones where you know you shouldn't do something, and you do it anyhow. Some mistakes are accidental, but you still have control over how you handle the situation." That's Scarlett's philosophy. "Owning up to them either way, intentional or not, is not coping out. It's standing up and saying that you're not infallible, you're human and prone to err." To err is human and all that.
Scarlett just stares at him for a long while. Silently. Trying to figure him out momentarily. "No." Not yet. "But if you wind up being so, definitely a happy one."
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"It's a cop out. Saying sorry doesn't change anything. It doesn't…smooth over a betrayal. It doesn't bring a dead kid back to life." Pause. It's only then that Hyde casts his attention over to her. "…A happy mistake? What?" There's a snerk of mild amusement here. "Heh. What's so happy about it? Great sex? Good conversation, what?"
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Musing over that, she shrugs. "No, it doesn't change anything outwardly, but it changes who you are for better or worse. An apology is never meant to make the other person feel better. Apologies are selfish and meant to make the apologizer feel less guilty for what they've done. It's forgiveness that smooths things over." Again, this is how Scarlett thinks and not generally a universal truth. "Don't snerk at it!" Scarlett exhales a small sigh. "Both of those things, and the fact that I happen to like you as a person." Note, she's not said romantically. "I like that you're confident about who you are, and you're not afraid to speak your mind. Sure, you sometimes come off as an ass, but you don't let anything or anyone change who you are."
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"If you fuck up, you have no right to ease your own guilt. You live with it. That's the price you should pay. The penance you should make. The burden you should carry…" Beat. He lets out a sigh then. "Luckily I am not bound to foolish mortal morality and therefore feel no guilt." He's deadpanning, but perhaps…just perhaps she will be able to recognize the fact that he's joking. "Only sometimes? Fuck. I'm getting soft."
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"Should you though? Have to carry that burden forever? For something that could easily be forgiven?" Granted Scarlett won't argue that the big stuff — killing someone's child for instance — should be forgiven, or shouldn't be lived with. Minor things though? Yeah. "Luckily," she says with a small chuckle. Just enough to show that she realized he was joking, but not enough to outright spoil the deadpan of it. "Or you're just comfortable with me. Whatever."
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Hyde peers to her out of the corner of his eyes. "Comfortable with you? Now there's a loaded statement. What do you mean, comfortable with you?" Slowly, he begins shifting, leaning forward towards the woman as he uncrosses his arms from his chest. "And I think you know the answer to your own question. Don't do the crime unless you're prepared to serve the time."
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Scarlett doesn't move. She just continues to look at him, watching as he leans forward. "Well, I don't run from your attitude or your straightforwardness." The nicest way possible of saying his assholishness. "So you can actually hold a decent conversation with me. That, and you like the sex," she says with a teasing little smirk. "Maybe I do, but the point remains. Certain things are forgivable, others may not be."
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"Whether the offense is forgivable or not is irrelevant. Crimes should be forgiven. They allow the offended to move on. Apologizing is selfish and self-serving. It should not be done." There is a pause as Hyde reads over his own points in his mind, turning them over like any deep thinker would. And then, after a moment, he shrugs his shoulders expressively. "I do. You're a good lay."
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Apologizing is selfish? That was her point too. Doesn't keep people from doing it though. Scarlett suddenly leans toward him, swiftly. Trying to push him back to the grass so that she can gaze down at him. "I am." Hey, hey keeps telling her so, it's enough that she's confident in that point now. "Question is, what're you going to do about it?"
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His point is that because of it's selfish nature, it shouldn't be indulged in. A slightly different view point that he was pushing for. His mouth opens, the rumbling in his throat indicative that some pearl of wisdom or asshattery was about to escape his lips when - suddenly, she strikes. Letting out an 'oof' of surprise, Hyde is pushed down to the grass. He's still a little shocked as he blinks up to the sky, before eventually turning to peer at Scarlett. Slowly, he tests the waters - seeing how she'd react if he tries to slowly sit back up. "No, I think the question is what do you want me to do about it."
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She lets him up easily enough. Her intention wasn't to hold him there indefinitely, really. Just to surprise him for once. Scarlett winks at him, then moistens her lips slowly. Enticingly even — at least that's the hope. "I think you know what I want you to do about it…" Then she's getting up and holding her hand down to him. "Let's go grab a beer, and we can philosophize some more at my place."
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A…huh. "Your eye. It's doing that one-eyed spaz thing again." Hyde deadpans in reference to the wink. Well, he has to make fun of her for something. Especially since he ends up taking her hand in order to get to his feet immediately afterwards, and has every intention of doing exactly as she wants. "If that's what you call philosophizing then…" Beat. Halfway through the jeer, he stops. And then, for some reason, merely nods, deciding to gruff out a "Yeah." instead. And with his hand in hers, they're off.
