RLDATE: 8/9/98
ICDATE: Dawn, mid-April, 4279.
SCENE: Veranda - The Lighthouse Inn
[The veranda runs the entire length of the front of the house. From here, one can watch people come and go along Dock Street, or lose oneself in watching the restless ocean. The sounds of the surf are ever-present, along with the cries of the gulls as they circle during the daytime. Large double doors, with inset ovals of frosted glass, lead into the lobby. On either side of the doors are wicker chairs and a porch swing, along with a couple of potted ferns.
The blue sky brightens. The sun lights the fair weather clouds in the east with pink and pale gold before it touches the ground, which remains in shadow. A mild breeze blows from the west.]
[Small but curvaceous, with delicate Asian features, Stormy appears about nineteen and stands at five foot, her raven hair dripping down her cheeks and shoulders like an inky black puddle that collects just above her waist. Arched brows and a fringe of dark lashes set off her slanted dark eyes which can flash with laughter one moment and fury the next. High cheekbones offset her straight nose. Made of layers of sheer silk, both gold and emerald, her nightgown makes Stormy look like a pale, moonlit flower. The wide, low neckline has been embroidered with delicate flowers, and the sleeves billow prettily down to her wrists. A silver necklace shaped like small flowers rests about her throat.]
[All lithe grace and cynicism, is Kerrigan, tall and dancer-built, with a shock of fair hair to his shoulders. Sea-blue eyes glint with occasional wry humor. A cool smile heightens the sharpness of his features, hints at mockery. Marring one sunbrowned cheek is a faint semicircular scar. He is dressed plainly, his white shirt worn but immaculately clean; trousers a little frayed, boots a little scuffed. A silver chain bracelet graces one thin wrist. He is probably about thirty.]
[A tiny baby girl, Emily seems made of the most delicate china. Her hair has thickened, and is a luxurious, raven's wing black, her eyes a bright sea-blue, like her father's. She is dressed snugly, in a warm, llama wool sleeper, dyed a soft pink. A matching sweater covers her tiny torso, and pink booties fit her feet.]
Stormy steps out on to the veranda, dressed in her nightgown and a fussy Emily in her arms. Without so much as a glance around, she begins to walk the baby, murmuring soothingly to her.
Kerrigan is in the swing, arms outstretched along the backrest, gazing out over the water. He looks over as the door opens, and smiles a bit.
In Stormy's arms, Emily flails her tiny fists, kicking so hard Stormy has to tighten her hold for fear of dropping her.
Stormy continues to walk, smiling wanly when she sees Kerrigan on the swing. "Shh. Shh, chibi-chan," she murmurs to Emily.
Kerrigan has developed enough sense not to inquire if we're having a rough night, or other such pleasantries. Instead he asks quietly, "Need a break?"
Stormy pauses in her walking to look at him a moment, a bit surprised. "If ya don' mind.." She rocks Emily still, as the baby kicks and squirms.
Kerrigan looks up at her innocently. "Mind?" He rises, with a tiny sigh, and rather hesitantly reaches out to take Emily from her.
Stormy passes her over with more then a little relief. "Thanks," she smiles, and steps back to lean against the railing, shoving her hair from her eyes.
Emily flails her hands as she's handed off, her little lungs getting quite the workout.
Kerrigan mm-hms absently, as usual having to concentrate for a moment to get the child settled properly. "Hey," he says to her, almost as he might to Viki. "Hey. What's your problem, eh?" He jostles her slightly and starts toward the other end of the veranda.
Stormy watches them, a fond smile curving her lips. She hoists herself up on the railing, swinging her bare feet. "I couldn' get her ta burp, maybe that's what's wrong.."
Emily kicks her feet furiously, then suddenly quiets, her eyes almost closing. It only lasts a minute though, and she wails again, fists waving.
Kerrigan glances back and nods, rather blankly. "Maybe -- oh, there." And then: "Damn." He jostles Emily again. "Is that it?" he teases her. "You brat. If your mama wants you to burp, damn, you /do/ it, hear?" Carefully, he avoids looking at Stormy as he chatters.
Emily squawls all the louder. Stormy winces and glances up at the inn, hoping no one's sleep is being disturbed. "Try layin' her over yer shoulder and rubbin' her back," she calls to him over the baby's cries.
Kerrigan does so, a trifle awkwardly. "What's that do?"
Stormy shoves her hair back again, watching. "Hopefully, it'll make her burp." As if on cue, Emily does so, rather loudly.
Kerrigan blinks. "Well, what d'you know."
Stormy can't help but laugh. "I did that fer an hour with nothin', and ya do it once and she does it." She throws up her hands in mock annoyance.
Emily almost immediately relaxes, her cries trailing off as her eyes start to close again.
Kerrigan grins. "You were just trying too hard." He adjusts Emily slightly: "Eh, mouse?" And stifles a yawn.
Stormy snorts, and slides off the rail. She crosses to the door, and pulls it open. "Let's go up, Kerri-chan."
Kerrigan nods slightly, and moves to follow her.
Stormy goes into the lobby.
[Inside:]
MeiLing looks up and smiles shyly.
Stormy nods to MeiLing, and heads for the stairs, smiling over her shoulder at Kerrigan and Emily.
Kerrigan studiously avoids MeiLing's gaze as he follows Stormy upstairs.
[Attic Landing - The Lighthouse Inn: This small landing and hallway has doors leading off to employee's quarters and storage areas.]
Stormy opens the door, and holds it open for you.
Kerrigan casts her a slightly wry look, and ducks inside.
[Stormy and Kerrigan's Room: The whisper of Japanese silk seems in the air, sheer curtains draped softly over a window. A gracefully made hardwood desk sits off in the north corner of the room, its surface scattered with papers that are scrawled with shaky writing, and a child's reader. Upon the left corner of the desk rests a white vase of purple orchids, their scent soft and beguiling. Tucked intimately away in a special niche is a canopy bed, its covers a pale golden color and its hanging made of softest lace. A table stands nearby and upon it rests a vase of flowers, and a clock, finished in green enamel with silver accents.]
Stormy shuts the door, and clicks the lock into place, sighing tiredly.
Kerrigan crosses the room softly and eases Emily down into the cradle.
Emily yawns widely, her bright eyes still closed. She makes a small whimper of protest as she's set down, then falls quiet again.
Stormy crosses the room to turn down the bed, smiling over at him. "Yer such a good daddy, Kerri-chan."
Kerrigan yawns a bit himself. "There." And blinks, turning, and grins a little in embarrassment. "Oh, sure."
Stormy slides into the bed with a sigh of relief. "Ya are," she affirms. "Yer so gentle with her."
Kerrigan shrugs that off, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. Possibly he blushes. "Yeah... well." He comes over to sit on the bed beside her.
Stormy reaches out to stroke his cheek, still smiling softly. "She'll prolly be daddy's girl, and wrap ya 'round her finger."
Kerrigan grins. "Like you do?" He raises a hand to capture hers, looking down at her affectionately. "Henpecked, that's what I am," as he might say, thrice-blessed.
Stormy snorts and lifts her other hand to give him a gentle shove backwards. "Get some sleep, Kerri-chan. I gotta run errands for Moira-san tomorrow, so yer on your own with Emily." She smiles sweetly, and settles back on her pillows.
Kerrigan makes a mild production of toppling over. "Lucky me," he murmurs.