I See You, I Feel You | Vinny & Sunshine

[Sunshine and Whiskey]

❝I see you, I feel you...❞
one-on-one based on Titanic written by Vinaein & Sunshine and Whiskey
Viewer discretion is advised as there will be vivid mentions of death
​

❝Come on, play your cards, boy!❞

A man gruffly shouted with a bang on the wooden table. The person across from him didn't even budge at the action but instead threw down the winning deck of cards and gathered up all the money on the table. Their companion, best friend helped them as well while the man thought he had been robbed and pulled out a pocket knife. A gasp escaped from them while their eyes were fixated on the knife before they averted their gaze to stare into the eyes of the man with the weapon. ❝Hey, let's take it easy now.❞ The person spoke then took off their hat to reveal reddish-brown strands of hair that cascaded down the middle of her back. She gave the gentlemen a hair flip as some wolf-whistled while others laughed because the man had been beaten by a woman.

Once they all were distracted, both she and her best friend fled from the scene, and luckily, not only was their money on the table but two tickets to board the Titanic. She giggled as they ran and pushed through the sea of people, who were either saying their goodbyes or boarding onto the ship. She bumped into a gentleman, who was obviously boarding first-class then turned around. ❝Sorry, Mister!❞ She shouted then continued onward along with her friend while they stood before the bridge that they had to walk on to get onboard.

Her eyes stared at the magnificent ship before her own eyes and muttered softly to herself. ❝The Ship of Dreams.❞ Many called it that and she was unsure as to why but didn't even bother to ask anyone. ❝Come, Isabella.❞ Her friend said while dragging her up the bridge and the excitement started to swell up inside both of them while they ran to the upper deck, where she grasped onto the railing. It was definitely a dream for many to be on this ship but here she was, even though she got her way in through a card game, on one of the most extraordinary ships ever made. It was definitely ahead of its time.

Isabella looked down at the crowd of people that had gathered to see them off, she lifted her hands and arms, waving to the people who were waving at them. The ship horn blew and that signaled for everyone who needs to be on board to get on board or be left behind. She still couldn't believe that she was about to journey towards America on a ship that was considered indestructible.

Once everyone was on the ship, it started to set sail, which was a little rocky but Isabella walked around the upper deck with a smile. Her friend told her that she was going to her room due to the fact that she didn't feel good. Isabella couldn't take her eyes off of the many different people she passed, coming up with their stories of her own inside of her head. She wasn't first-class material, which was quite obvious because of the clothes that adorned her body but everything else about her was very different.

Before long, she came face to face with the man she bumped into a few moments ago. Well, not face to face since he was a few steps down but to avoid him, she stepped to the side and leaned against the railing. She had hoped to herself that he had forgotten about it, what she looked like, or even had on. But she remembered that she looked exactly the same when her body collided with his. ❝Crap.❞ Isabella cursed under her breath because of the fact she heard footsteps behind her. Not everyone's footsteps but one of a high-class man, which made her turn her head towards him that made the sun bounce off both of their skins. ❝Hey there, Mister.❞ Isabella spoke softly with a smile. ❝Lovely ship, isn't it?❞ She asked, really trying her best to ease his mind away from their previous encounter.​

 

[Vinaein]

There was a ship. And there was a voyage.

And there were people. But most importantly? There was a man and there was a woman. Namely, there was Alan Covington, of the storied Covington family. He was a handsome young nobleman, with the powerful bearing of a true talent. His shoulders were squared, his smooth face was turned up to see the behemoth of steel and iron. This monarch of the waves, this vast and peerless leviathan.

The greatest ship to ever sail the waves, her maiden voyage yet nascent. Great smokestacks perched upon the ship as though they were a crown upon the great monarch's sun kissed brow. Moored there, at the dock, awaiting to be filled by the passengers seeking America.

Their destination. This maiden voyage. This great ship.

The invincible Titanic took Alan's breath away. He was dressed in fine black clothes, his black hair neatly combed, blue eyes shining as they took in the ship before him. "It's exquisite," be breathed.

His mother was helped along by a servant, wearing her fine gown, her long graying hair concealed under the little hat, gave a soft laugh. "Breathtaking...is it not?" She asked her son. The high-class young man, a noble of the finest house and caliber, could only fold his hands delicately before him. His fingers were linked as he gazed ahead. All about them were gawking nobles, men and women of the finest pedigrees, those whom Alan made an attempt to ignore as they drew closer to the boarding parties.

First Class tickets. It would not do, his mother said, for a Covington, to mingle with those beneath them. Alan gave no indication of his feelings one way or the other. God above, he thought, but the ocean before them that they would tread was nothing to the vast sea of human figures that now surrounded them.

Something pressed against him, a hard invocation of pressure against him. He was briefly knocked off balance, catching a glimpse of red hair, a flash of a grinning face and shining eyes. One "sorry, mister!" and she was gone, into the crowd as Alan let out a scoffing laugh and dusted at his clothing.

"Well now," he said. Lilah Covington, his mother, peered over with a hard and inquisitive gaze. Her eyes were narrowed to cool slits.

"Is some riffraff bothering you, Alan?"

"Not at all, mother." Alan was sift to mollify the beginning of her wrath. He was more intrigued by the indestructible display of craftsmanship before them, nobles all talking and laughing of what they might do and achieved once they reached America. Once they set themselves into the United States.

It did not take long to board. One show of the first class ticket, one look at his company and fine clothing and he was in. Manservants were swift to escort them upwards to their luxurious cabins. His own had a view of the ocean, a glorious sight indeed. His things were placed around the cabin for him.

Luxury. Always luxury. That was what being a noble meant. With a shake of his head, he waited until the ship wet sail, before he dressed as casually as he might dare and then set down through the ship, through each winding and twisting corridor to explore it.

Along to the railing he sent, his footfalls heavy across the upper deck. He must have been incredibly conspicuous, he thought as he moved about there. He tried not to smile overmuch through it when...

He caught a glimpse of fiery hair, and a coy look. "Hey there, mister. Lovely ship isn't it?"

The gentle cock of her head made him smile with a new warmth. He couldn't help but laugh softly, his shoulders shaking as he sighed deeply. He fixed her with a look, smiling delicately. "It's beautiful," he said in his accented voice. Hell, if his clothes didn't mark him as a nobleman, the voice and accent did.

He was hardly quick to correct her for speaking to him. He could only peer at her, looking about there. "Do you have a name, Miss...?"

 

[Sunshine and Whiskey]

Her eyes peered over the railing and down to the water underneath the boat. She had never, ever been on a boat before but it didn't waiver her at all. Isabella was always courageous, strong, and hardly budged at anything or anyone. It was already a mistake that she had even spoken to him that she knew was true but her gaze fluttered over towards him whenever he spoke back. ❝Beautiful?❞ An inquiry that was questionable but didn't really require an answer. ❝It's magnificent, majestic.❞ Her words were soft while her eyes examined the ship, glancing at certain spots before they fell back upon the gentleman, who was currently entertaining her.

It was when he had asked for her name that she thought about lying to him. It's not like they were going to run into each other again, were they? It was quite clear by his voice and accent that he was high born, first-class on the ship. Her eyes continued to examine him before they lifted up to meet his own orbs.

❝Isabella.❞ She replied then extended her hand out towards him. ❝And who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?❞ Isabella tried her best to sound high born but failed miserably at the gesture, of course.

Once he replied and shook her hand, Isabella dropped her hand back by her side. ❝It's a pleasure to meet you.❞ She stated with a bright smile then went back over towards the railing, wrapping her fingers around one of the bars. ❝Ever been to America?❞ Her tone of voice questioned curiously while she continuously looked across the ocean that they were currently sailing. She had never been herself because her family has always been poor, barely able to afford anything or keep food on the table. Even the clothes that once adorned her body weren't even her own but hand-me-downs from other children rather in the neighborhood or from the thrift shop.

Isabella sighed softly to herself while her head went down to the water again. She had come a long way since those days, even though she had to learn how to con people. It was a skill she picked up quickly because she had to and certainly not because she wanted to learn. But if you lived the life she did, you have to do what you have to do in order to survive and she did exactly that. Her eyes fluttered over towards the gentleman once more before her lips parted to speak. ❝I have never been to America but always want to go, which is why I boarded this ship.❞ It was a lie, one that she knew but he didn't. She had just literally won a simple card game for tickets that were now in her and her friend's possession.

She had a smirk that curved up at the corner of her lips before she released the railing from her grasp then walked closer to him, attempting to close the gap so they wouldn't have to shout at each other. ❝So, what brings you onboard the Titanic?❞ She questioned him with an arched brow and that smirk that never left her lips.

Isabella was a rather curious person and many people knew that but this gentleman was going to find out. Even if he had to do so the hard way.​

 

[Vinaein]

Alan could feel the cool breeze of the sea upon his hair. A gentle caress of wind ruffled through his hair, his coat flapping briefly i the wind as he attempted to right himself. To enjoy himself. To think up any reason why he should not be happy. Here he was, upon the greatest voyage in all the world. The mightiest of ships that had ever been and ever would be. He was trying so hard to relish it now. He was also failing, surrounded by stifling perfection in the upper classes. Now before him was a woman who was very evidently not a member of the upper crust and he was suddenly quite intrigued.

Delighted even, to have met her. His upper class accent made it very clear exactly where he was from in life. Her tone was gentle, calm and measured as she surveyed all about them. "Majestic it is," he agreed delicately, a smile spreading over his lips. "I'd never seen anything like it." Indeed, the ship was cleaving through the waves in a steady pathway ahead, leaving foaming water in its great wake. The steel behemoth traveled forth, mighty and relentless.

"Isabella." He repeated her name, seeing her red curls poking out from underneath the cap. He reached out to take her hand, feeling the soft skin, the warmth of her palm against his. It was rough as well, bespeaking a hard living. "My name is Alan," he answered her, not bothering with any hint of class barrier for the moment. "I am afraid I've never had the pleasure of seeing America. This is...family business," he said. Perhaps it was best not to elaborate too much. His mother would be cross if he was caught even talking to a third class passenger.

He looked down at the crystalline, shining water. "To America for the first time, then. You've certainly chosen the right vessel for it, haven't you?" His smile was warm and friendly now, inviting and gentle. "You plan to stay there?" For most of the lower class passengers, it was common knowledge that this would be a one way ticket, with them expected to find new lives in the United States of America.

Her smirk, however, was captivating. "My family simply had business across the sea. Little else and little impressive," he confessed with just a bare shrug. "Here we are and here I am as a result. Is anyone with you...?"