Blind Faith - Honor Open Tags

[Honor Sayers]

Sliding her hand over the nicked surface of her cupboard, Honor worked down to look for the sliding mechanism Hope's husband, Nathan had installed for Honor for easier access. Once she heard the soft whoosh of the door sliding open, Honor reached a hand in and began her daily search of clothing.

Honor hated dressing up. And dressing up to go out was a chore she would rather not be burdened with but grocery shopping was pretty essential. Hope had originally gotten Nathan to go for her but Honor nipped it right in the bud, under the impression that Nathan couldn't possibly handle Honor's specifics. She actually liked her brother-in-law just fine but she didn't trust anybody to handle her food.

So she put on herself the arduous task of getting her own groceries, which meant going outdoors, which also meant dressing up. Two very annoying things she had to do back to back. Great.

With the Braille coding sewn in each of her clothing [Hope's brilliance and dedication right there], Honor picked out a loose grey blouse with dark washed jeans before crouching down and grabbing a pair of light blue flats. She pushed the door close and took the three steps to her dressing table to grab her purse before carefully making her way down, not forgetting her tinted glasses and walking stick.

Honor was so used to the noise of Pilot Ridge that it usually didn't take any more than fifteen minutes for her to reach the grocery store. She knew every buzz of the traffic light, every zoom of a car speeding by and every tinkle of bicycle bells. It hadn't been easy the first time around but Honor had gotten used to it in time. Hope and Nathan were a big help of course. Which was why Honor felt very confident as she strolled along.

But one of the traffic lights was broken and because Honor couldn't hear any car sounds, she thought it was safe to cross and so she did.

[OOC: A car may or may not be barreling our beloved sociopath. Your call ^^]

[Sam Caraway]

How long had it been since Sam had last walked the mean streets of Pilot Ridge? He couldn’t remember. He had visited Kali in her bar a couple of times, but the last of those had been about two years ago – and that was probably the last time he was here. Still, as Sam strode along, customary spring in his step, he was surprised at how much he remembered about the layout of the town. And some things hadn’t changed at all, which was a relief. It was nice to see that some things could still survive in the modern world.

He had moved into his new pad that morning, and the place was still littered with unpacked boxes – Sam hated unpacking, and knew that he would probably end up putting it off for months. His new apartment would be a complete mess until he stopped finding excuses to get out and do something else. at the moment, however, he had the perfect excuse for leaving the house: he hadn’t yet been to see Kali, and let her know that he was here. Sure, he could text her, but where was the fun in that? Much better to sneak up behind her and make her jump.

Sam was good at that.

So he was on his way downtown, jacket and scarf wrapped snugly about him (it was still chilly, and Sam had become too used to the warm weather of Nevada), beaming at the world. Everyone who crossed his path got one of his brightest smiles, whatever their age or gender, and by the time he got to the main road Sam had achieved his aim of making at least half the people smile back.

He wore his good luck around him, close as his coat, and maybe it was that which made him get to the crossing at just the same moment as Honor. There was one car coming, so he paused – and since he had nothing to do for a moment, he looked down at her. Very nice… he thought to himself, but was interrupted by her sudden movement – she stepped out from the kerb onto the road itself.

The car, by this point, was only a few yards away – one of those European models which made hardly any noise when you had it out for first gear – and Sam gaped for a moment as he realised that Honor would never move in time. So he did what any bona fide Southern gent would do: he sprinted after her, wrapped both arms around her waist, and dragged her backward. They landed sprawled on the pavement, where they had been standing just a second before, and the car whooshed past them with a very relieved-looking driver at the wheel.

Sam regarded Honor in amazement, somehow forgetting that she was lying on top of him. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he asked, anger creeping into his panicked tone. ‘You could have died! He was going to hit you!’



[Nu, I hope that the love between us doth much excuse the appertaining rage which would otherwise manifest itself at my flagrant powerplaying. Happy to re-write if you’d like me to!]

[Honor Sayers]

She managed a few steps off the kerb before she was yanked back by a pair of warm arms, something she was used to but these were strange circumstances to be grabbing her. Her walking stick and glasses dropped on to the pavement and she dropped on something soft. Frowning, she raised one hand up to her eyes, annoyed at the sudden brightness before hearing a male voice from under her.

Honor's film coated eyes traveled to where the voice came from and an eyebrow raised before she rolled off and groped around for her glasses, all the while squeezing her eyes shut to block out the light. His words had a mix of panic and worry and anger all rolled into one distinct tone. The only explanation to that worry would be that a car was about to hit her. How could she have not heard that?

"Stop yelling and help me find my glasses and my stick would you?" Her hand slid across the warm practically smooth pavement, trying in vain to search for her glasses and walking stick.

[OOC: Sandrine, no re-write is necessary. I've been guilty of powerplaying when it comes to you too >_<]

[Sam Caraway]

Honor’s strange eyes and lack of focus was all the clue Sam needed to go with his initial evidence: she was blind, which explained her kamikaze mission into the middle of the road. Her calm – if irritated – response made him blink, and then he nodded, allowing her to roll off him before he sat up and looked around for the objects she was attempting to find.

He found the stick – it was just out of her grasp, so he reached around her and placed it under her questing hand. ‘A thank-you-handsome-stranger-for-saving-my-life would be nice,’ Sam grumbled mildly, getting to his feet and moving a little further away to look for her glasses. He couldn’t keep his amusement out of his tone. It seemed that his reaction to nearly being hit by a car was to smile.

The glasses, he discovered, had flown a good few meters away from them – he picked them up out of someone’s front garden, and turned to face Honor. He was tempted to withhold them until his heroism was recognised, but he had the feeling it would be a while before that happened. He walked back over to her, still holding the glasses loosely in his hands.

‘So, do you try suicide very often?’ A friend had once remarked to Sam that he had an almost magical knack for asking questions which were precisely configured to piss someone off. It was gift he had.

[Honor Sayers]

Honor heard the grumble and smirked as her fingers closed around the stick. "You would think handsome would be the adjective I use." Came the snarky reply from the tactile hypnotic as she used her stick to straighten herself up.

She tapped her stick on the ground, trying to find her glasses but accidentally hit something that made a hollow sound. Was that the man's head?

His question brought a raised eyebrow from Honor and where she could have shown offense, she just turned to where she had heard the voice and brought a smile to her face as her gaze was thrown to his left shoulder.

"Yes, I make it my life's mission actually." She replied, the exaggerated smile still on her face as she tilted her head slightly to the side. "My eyes are hurting me. Would you be kind enough to help a poor defenseless blind woman as me find her glasses, handsome stranger?" She simpered, her hand itching to just reach out and use her power on him.

[Sam Caraway]

Sam had been, unfortunately, in exactly the right position for Honor’s stick to thwack him across the back of the head. He yelped, looking up to glare at the blind woman. ‘Careful where you wave that thing!’ he exclaimed, reaching round to probe the tender spot where the cane had made contact with his skull. Briefly, Sam contemplated pulling some probability things and arranging for a rock to end up just in the right place for her to trip over it, but then he decided that such things were beneath him. He had moved back to Pilot Ridge to try and be an adult, after all.

Honor’s play-acting provoked a wider smile from Sam. Clearly, this was a woman after his own heart. He snorted halfway through her little speech: ‘Defenceless?’ After the way she had managed to hit him so hard? Not likely.

He would have bowed, but remembered that there was no point – she wouldn’t be able to see him. Instead, he adopted the same, faintly mocking tone that she had used. ‘Since you ask so nicely, pretty lady, I will oblige.’ Sam held out her glasses, and gently took her right hand to guide it to where he was holding them. ‘May I learn the name of my damsel in distress?’

[Honor Sayers]

Honor couldn't quite feel too sorry for the man when she was made certain that the hollow sound was indeed the man's head. But she did try her best to not look too gleeful. She didn't quite succeed.

The disbelief in his voice as he repeated the one word out of her whole sentence that was completely untrue made her smile even wider. His reply afterwards made her snort derisively. "Pretty lady," she repeated, not quite knowing whether that was true or not. Unlike some women who only downplayed their beauty out of modesty, Honor actually didn't know how she looked.

Of course, most of the men [and some women] she had encountered had been quite generous with their compliments when it came to her looks and for awhile, she had indulged in the fact that she was actually a looker. Her thoughts were interrupted by the man's hand closing around her wrist and briefly, Honor wondered if she should just use her power on him right then and there. Make him stub his toe or something for being so...what...exactly was he being?

"Your damsel?" She had a good laugh at the possessive pronoun. "No, you may not. Thank you for the glasses." She gripped her glasses and took it away from the man and slid it on her nose. Opening her eyes, she moved her face so she was more or less glancing his way. "You sound familiar..." Honor said suddenly.

[Sam Caraway]

‘Uh-huh. Pretty.’ Sam grinned his most infuriating grin, even though he knew that such things were wasted on this prickly woman. The only time Sam ever enjoyed a challenge was when it came to people like Honor – he enjoyed trying to engage people. Or, if engaging them failed completely, he enjoyed being able to really get on their last nerve. At least, so far, Honor did seem to have a sense of humour – although he had the feeling that she was definitely laughing at him, rather than with him. Ah well. Such is life.

When she refused to relinquish her name, Sam made a face at her. ‘You could thank me by telling me your name…?’ he suggested hopefully, before giving a theatrically dejected sigh when she turned away from him. He was just pausing for a moment to work out what his next move should be when she turned back to him – Sam prepared himself for some sort of snide comment.

Taken aback by her sudden statement, he took a step closer to her and tried to work out if he should be remembering her, as well. He had one of those awful, stomach-churning moments during which he wondered if he could possibly have gone to bed with her at some point – but no, he would have remembered a girl like this one. ‘I – uh – I went to Hammel,’ he offered. It was the only connection he could think of on such short notice. ‘My sister runs a bar here, Kali’s Kafe. Maybe you’ve heard me around.’

[Honor Sayers]

Honor didn't need to see him smiling to know that he was. The tone in his voice said it all and frankly, it was irritating. Irritating because he was a little too happy for someone still talking to her. He should be walking away now, not trying to engage her in conversation. What was wrong with this boy? Was he a masochist of some sort?

"You...expect me to thank you?" She asked, an eyebrow raised at the ridiculousness of his expectation. "If I remember correctly, had you not pulled me back, my glasses and walking stick wouldn't have flown off me." No, she was not counting the fact that the nameless stranger had saved her from even more damage than a dropped stick and glasses. Now who ever said Honor was rational?

The fact that he had mentioned Hammel at all was enough of an indicator that that was why he sounded familiar. They must have been in close range with each other for her to have recognised how he sounded like. It also goes to show how completely ignored she was when she was in Hammel for him not to have recognised her. It didn't really matter but to be honest, it kind of irked her that he was even recognisable at all. Honor Sayers didn't know anyone. It just didn't make sense.

"Hmm...maybe I've got the wrong person." Honor said, tapping her walking stick on the ground to go on her way to the grocery store. But she was now completely off track. She didn't quite know which way the grocery store was because she was sidetracked. "Damn it...where's the grocery store..." she said softly before frowning.

"You're a bad luck charm, you know that? First I lose my glasses and now I've lost my way." Oh Honor...you're just a little bit ungrateful aren't you?

[Sam Caraway]

‘But if I hadn’t pulled you back, your glasses and cane would be useless to you now – because you’d be dead.’ Sam nodded sagely at his own wise words. Behind his sombre tone, laughter was barely contained. He was enjoying this strange conversation more than he had expected to. ‘And I’m pretty sure that would suck for you. Not to mention the counselling I would have to go through after watching you die.’ Sam shrugged. ‘Which would suck for me. So, really, I did us both a favour.’ Nobody had ever claimed that Sam’s logic was everything it should be, but you couldn’t deny that it had a certain charm.

He was still racking his brain to try and work out if he could remember Honor from his schooldays – either she, too, went to Hammel, or she was a local. Either way, it was possible he had met her before. C’mon…’ he thought to himself. He prided himself on his memory, and he wasn’t going to let this one beat him. Surely I can make a lucky guess on this one. Or something will trigger a memory. Surely, if he put his mind to it, he could figure this one out.

In spite of Honor’s clear dislike of him, Sam found himself chuckling. ‘I don’t bring bad luck to anyone except myself,’ he told her. Let her try and figure out what he meant by that. ‘But as luck would have it, I know the way to the grocery store.’

Sam took another step closer to her, close enough that she would be able to reach out and take his arm if the mood took her. ‘Tell you what: I’ll repay you for losing your glasses by taking you where you need to go.’

[Honor Sayers]

Despite the morose words, Honor could still hear the laughter in his voice. He was a little frustrating wasn't he? Who was he to be so gleeful around her? It did not make sense. Was she losing her edge of being a cold bitch? She was sure that was it. It couldn't be because some people were just happier than others. No, of course that wasn't the case. "You don't make sense, mister-I-need-a-thank-you-after-making-people-lose-their-things."

Charming, Honor. Utterly mature.

Had she known he was trying to remember her, she would have stopped him. It wasn't as though she wasn't known for her manipulative ways and her constant power usage. Of course, the fact that she was a minority with her disability could be taken to account but really, other than that she was a nobody. At least a nobody to the likes of Sam Caraway who was probably one of the more popular kids in Hammel. Why no, of course Honor wasn't bitter about the people who ignored her the four years she was there.

The way he placed his words like that sounded like it meant something significant but Honor was too damned to figure out what it was and she really just wanted to go to the grocery store and get her things and just get the hell home. This guy was not help - oh...he was trying to help. Great. Another reason she had to bite down her craziness for. He was actually trying to be helpful.

Her hand was twitching to push him away when she felt him come closer. She made a play of sighing very loudly before groping whatever of his that was nearest to her which just so happened to be his hand. "Fine. But if you try to even think of any funny business, I will make sure you would need a walking stick more than I do." A not so empty threat but really, he didn't need to know how true that statement was.

"Lead the way, Prince Charming." She held back the smirk at the derisive tone she used.

[Sam Caraway]

‘I don’t make sense?’ Sam looked incredulously at Honor, one eyebrow raised. ‘I’m your knight in shining armour, here. You should be – I dunno – swearing to save my life in return, or something.’ He considered making an impassioned speech about how she now owed to him the greatest debt that one human being could owe to another, but he had the feeling that would go down about as well as when he called his oldest brother ‘circus-freak’. That particular name (taken from the idea of Jack being a strong-man, if you must know) had earned Sam more than one smack around the head in the past. Slowly – very slowly – Sam was learning how to avoid such things.

Not that he ever acted on his own advice. It was far more fun to irritate people.

He fully expected Honor to reject his offer of help, and was pleasantly surprised as a result when she grasped his hand. He moved her fingers so that she was holding his arm, instead, and chuckled at her threat. ‘Define ‘funny business’,’ he said with a smile. ‘Do you think I’m going to lead you the wrong way?’ Sam’s voice took on a tone of great offence, and if Honor had been sighted she would have seen his eyes grow wide and reproachful. ‘Would I? Haven’t I already proved my good intentions once today?’ He shook his head and sighed.

With another woman, his line here would probably have been something like ‘or do you think I’m going to try it on with you?’, but Sam was no fool. That stick had whacked him hard enough that he didn’t want to think about any further violence Honor could inflict upon him.

He started to walk in the direction of the store, leading Honor over the road when he was sure that no cars were approaching. ‘Prince Charming? I like that.’ It had been meant sarcastically, but Sam made sure to sound pleased. ‘Or you could call me Sam,’ he offered, as they reached the kerb. ‘Step up, here,’ he told Honor, lifting his arm slightly to make sure she got the point.

[Honor Sayers]

Honor let out a derisive snort at her helper's choice of words. The poor deluded man really thought she would be grateful. It was charming, really. "You really ought to reign in your theatrics. It's really bumming me out." Honor rolled her eyes behind her glasses and let the man lead the way.

When he pushed her hand up to his arm, a kneejerk reaction of hers was to use her powers. She was just not used to being touched. Not outside of bed anyway. So this was new to her. But she stopped herself from going any further with her powers. Sam was safe. For now.

His tone of voice made her smirk. He couldn't actually be offended. The guy probably didn't know how to be offended. Honor snickered when she heard him sigh. "You really are a drama queen." She remarked, knowing full well if she continued bringing him down, he would eventually stop being so nice and actually think she wasn't worth his good deeds.

"I bet you do," the powers trainer snorted at his comment about being called Prince Charming. When he offered his name, she sighed lightly and offered hers. "My name is Honor." And after everything that had happened in the past ten minutes or so, she was sure Sam would find it quite ironic.

At Sam's warning, Honor stopped and felt the ground with her feet and stepped up the kerb. "Thank you," she said quietly. Indeed, she was feeling charitable all of a sudden. She kept silent, sure Sam would be keeping up the small talk. She was quite content with being silent.

[Sam Caraway]

It was becoming plain to Sam that this strange young woman was attempting – for some reason – to make him get angry with her. Why, he couldn’t guess (she didn’t seem like him, the type to get on folks’ nerves because it was fun), but he did know one thing: she had reckoned without his extraordinary staying power. For the most part, Sam was a lazy guy – but if a challenge was interesting enough to keep him engaged, he would stick to it until the bitter end. And Honor definitely presented an engaging challenge.

Honor. The name rang a bell, but Sam couldn’t work out why – he decided that his best bet was to ignore that nagging feeling, and hope that the answer would come to him in a burst of inspiration. It was all about not letting his memory know how much he wanted to remember things. He had to lull it into a false sense of security, and then it would remember something in its’ own time.

For now, he could concentrate on trying to make sure he didn’t get hit again.

‘You’re welcome,’ he told her graciously as they stepped up onto the pavement. ‘See? I’m not so bad.’ As aware as Sam was that he was fighting a losing battle, he had to admit that this was fun. He turned his head so that he could watch Honor’s expressions as they conversed – luckily, the grocery store was one of the places he still remembered the way to. ‘So, Honor, what do you do?’

Then it came to him. They had walked the two or so streets they needed to walk to get to the grocery store and they were now almost outside it – and suddenly Sam looked down at Honor and remembered her. Lucky, huh? ‘Honor Sayers!’ he said – delighted that he had finally worked it out. ‘I remember you! You were that girl who beat up John Eagleman, that time!’ Sam being Sam, he had been oblivious to negative gossip surrounding a girl he barely knew – but the incident he was referring to had been school legend at the time: one of the most disagreeable bullies in the school had been taken out by a small, blonde, blind girl. Eagleman had kept his head down, after that, to the great happiness of all the smaller pupils at Hammel.

[Honor Sayers]

How wrong was Sam to think that Honor had a decent bone in her body. To be sure, she was actually half decent to her family members, even her brother in law, Nathan. But even then it came with terms. No, Honor was more likely to have fun taking people down than bringing them up. Psychopath? Honor? Who would have thought?

Shaking her head in mild amusement, she let Sam have his glory in converting her to his common decency. So he really was just a very helpful person. Hard to fathom but then again, Honor got to where she was now because of how helpful her family was. She just never expected the same from people she hit with her walking stick; intentional or not, still undetermined.

She was sure Sam wasn't going to speak after five minutes passed until he asked her what she did. "Powers trainer at Hammel," she answered curtly. She didn't ask the turnabout question because she honestly couldn't care less about what Sam did. But suddenly she felt guilty, something that she hadn't felt in years. It was a strange feeling and Honor did not like it. So against her will, she asked him back. "What do you do?"

When Sam suddenly exclaimed her name, Honor groaned. "Damn it," she whispered as Sam finally figured out who she was. It wasn't the nicest thing to be remembered by but she could think of a million other worst things to have Sam remember her for. Like the time she fell into the pond or the time she got locked in the boy's bathroom after being given the wrong direction or even the time when she had 'persuaded' the student who gave her the wrong direction to run naked along the corridors just when everyone was leaving their classes.

Well, those aren't the worst things...

"You've got the wrong girl." She said quietly as they approached the grocery store. "Are we there yet? I'd actually like to get my groceries done some time this week." Lame comeback but Honor was grasping at straws to make the man leave.

[OOC: Sandrine, my luv I am SO sorry for Honor's behaviour. I FEEL LIKE SUCH A DOUCHE every time I finish writing for her >_<]