Participants:
| Scene Title | Movin' On Up |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | …to the Octagon? |
| Date | June 9, 2010 |
From up here, they can see the world.
It's one thing to see it in a magazine, to witness the spectacle that is the view from the third floor of the Octagon on Roosevelt Island, but to actually look out over the vista of New York City from these picture windows and know that the white-painted walls behind are yours is something wholly otherworldly. These apartments come mostly furnished on their own, but that didn't stop the two residents of apartment 301 of the Octagon from bringing some personal effects of their own to their newly shared residence.
Standing on the toes of her sandaled feet, Else Kjelsteom stares out at the city, leaning towards the glass windows, fingertips bracing her sleight weight against the glass, the view as if she were a bird in the air overlooking the city. So excited about the view, she's hardly even taken the time to slide the zippered guitar case off of her shoulders and so the vinyl covered neck of her acoustic guitar is a blocky black shadow silhouette behind her head in the reflective surface of the glass.
"S'so nice up here…" Else admits in a hushed voice, her head shaking slowly from side to side, "it jus' sort've makes me wanna' fog up the glass an' draw cocks all o'er it to mark m'territory as my own." Laughing at her own inappropriate joke, Else focuses on someone else reflected in the glass behind her, just barely visible.
"Lilah," she emphasizes as she turns, arms spread as broad as her smile, "Lilah we've moved on up to the the deelux apartment in the skies!" There's a sing-song tone to her voice as she bobs and saunters across the hardwood floor. "We're right much like th' Jefferson's now!"
She has such a unique way of looking at things.
Delilah has been primarily allowing herself to soak into the fact that she is moving- and moving here. This is such a spectacularly far cry from ending up in Thomas Jefferson Park those years ago. She can see the river, the island, the horizon of shimmering windows- even Marien never lived in a place quite like this. The redhead does all of this soaking in the middle of the living room, hands knitted in front of her and eyes in a slight haze. It's real! It's so awesome! It's left her dumbed out, until Else stirs her into reality. Dee's lips split open and reveal a bright laugh, the grin on her face slapped right on.
"Deeluxe for sure." She lifts her arms wide to take Else's hands in hers, up in the air. "This almost makes me want to pee myself- or maybe 's the baby pressing on my bladder, 'm not completely sure."
Snorting out a laugh Else swats a hand across Delilah's shoulder and screws up her face into a reproachful smile — somehow that combination is one only Else can manage — before sliding past the Brit. "I swear if you piss all o'er the floor before we have a right housewarming party I'll sqauat one off on your bed, don't put it past me!"
Waving one finger warningly in the air as she walks, Else unshoulders her guitar case and sets it down on the sofa, turning around slowly with her arms outstretched to her sides and smile wide and goofy. "Can y'magine this bullshit? Th' two've us livin' in a place like'is? This is tophat an' monocle territory m'dear!" Shaking her head, Else rakes her fingers through her hair and draws her bangs back from her face before treading into the living room.
"So'r the boy's comin' over at any point?" There's a flash of an askance look to Delilah, "M'not sure which boys but you gone an' got cher'self a harem or some such yeah? Boys girls whatever you're n'equal opportunity ginger!" One brow arched, Else levels dark eyes on Delilah before cracking a smile. "God this's where I wanted t'life af'er havin' a successful career…"
"I already have a tophat, where would I even get a monocle?" Delilah sniggers and finally goes to reinvestigate her the kitchen, voice drifting. "You can have the career next! It's a bit backwards but so long as it works, right?" When she returns, it is with another laugh, holding what looks like a plastic teardrop. Upon closer inspection it is a penguin. A cold plastic penguin, filled with baking soda. "I guess this is a housewarming gift leftover from the tours. I don't know why I was looking in the fridge- habit."
"I have a harem, but I can't tell you where it is! One day you'll come home and find them all here, probably. Prepare yourself accordingly."
"Babydaddy included?" Else cheekily comments as she comes up to the island dividing the kitchen from the living room, folding her arms and leaning foward to regard Delilah with a certain impish scrutiny. "An' I'unno about the whole career thing, s'got all sorts've problems t'it now, I mean, now that a'know about all'a my power'n stuff, it makes it kinda' hard t'justify jus' sittin' down an' writin' songs when the might be talkin' about some sort've impendin' apocalypse or maybe a tantalizing story've the next week's lottery numbers?"
Pursing her lips, Else ducks her head down and drums her fingers on the marble countertop, fingernails clicking with each strike. "A'think tha's why've never really done music since tha' show at the Rock Cellar, 've been too 'fraid of what I'd write, y'know? Heck th' last time I even tried t'get some'a the weird outta' m'head I went all blood-squirtin' on everyone cause a'was sick…" pursing her lips she grouses, "still donno' what even 'appened t'that notebook…"
"Babydaddy can include himself if he wishes." Delilah looks sidelong to Else, chin up. "He's on the roster though." One way of putting it. She puts the penguin back into the sleek fridge, turning to run her hands over the smooth countertops. Mmmmmmmm. Kitchen.
Brown eyes watch Else, arms spread and all but hugging the marble, chin propped. "Then just play guitar for someone! A couple of my friends started a band, maybe you can just kinda- help them. I dunno if they know what they're doin'." Li's faith in the band Magnes started is thin- thin, and existent nonetheless. "Oh my god these counters. I've always wanted a beautiful kitchen."
"Lilah, no sexin' up the kitchen on my watch!" The blonde notes with a wrinkle of her nose as she leans across the island to offer a swat to the top of Delilah's head, "s'improper conduct for a woman of your stature, 'magine what questions the baby will ask when it comes outta' th' womb holdin' a piece of marble or granite in the shape of a sex toy! That's where your infatuation's headed!" They're absolutely horrible in each other's company.
Though the joking is more to mask Else's nervousness about the whole music thing. "Who're your frien's?" Else asks a bit anxiously, squinting at the living room as she offers her back to Delilah, slouching up against the island and crossing her arms over her chest. She huffs out a breath and then leans to the side, looking over her hsoulder at the redhead."They're not lame, yeah? 'Cause lame's always not fun, an' I've had a fat fistful of lame bandmates an' crazyfolk in the last couple'a months…"
"I'll answer any questions he has." It is the truth. Walter will grow up to be immune to topic embarrassment, most likely. "Magnes Varlane, dunno if you know him. He's got a couple other girls though, and they are lovely. I dunno Sable's last name." If that is her name. "Sable's been in and out with the ferry a bit."
"We should have a party when we get settled in. I just gotta break in this kitchen, look at this stuff-" The redhead proceeds to change discussion, popping open the oven to peer inside. "I bet this damn thing cleans itself."
For all that Magnes was a floating human balloon at Else's final concert, she doesn't know the lunatic himself by name. "Ain't never heard that one 'fore," Else comments a bit distractedly, pursing her lips in thought to some errant fancy and missing Sable's name alltogether. At the notion of party though, she offers a side-long look over to Delilah and flashes a wide smile. "Oh man can you even imagine? We could 'ave such a fuckin' kick-ass party in a place like this, we'd practically be required t'hire strippers, yeah? Ain't we got a girl in the Ferry who'se a stripper? We could totally hire'er."
Oh that'd go over real well, one slinkily dressed Eileen Ruskin dancing on a table. Oh, Else.
"You know if this Sable's all Ferried up an' so's your Magnes buddy, maybe we could put on somethin' for a party. Do a big ol' fuckin' outdoor shin-dig 'cross Staten Island or somewhere tha' wouldn't be quite's likely t'fuck off with the cops if we crank it up to eleven, yeah?" Flashing a smile to the wall, Else turns around and looks at Delilah all crouched by the stove with a lopsided grin.
"It better clean itself," she finally notes with a shake of her head.
Because she sure as hell isn't.
Dee almost seems like she wants to crawl into it. Nope. She shuffles back and opens a few cupboards. "We'll have to decide where to keep things too. I feel so progressed, oh my. I didn't mean some kinda stripper party- I meant like a housewarming." The younger girl peeks past a door, impish. "If someone wants to come over wearing a new crockpot- no, it wouldn't be called a crockpot anymore."
"Come on!" All of a sudden she jumps straight, shutting doors and zooming away to the den, where she starts digging into her bag. She produces a little music player and a speaker out of another pocket, having done it just for this. "We need to break in this new carpet!" Which means bouncing around like loooooons! "Because we are high society gals, we can do it anytime we want!"
"We will throw ourselves a preposterous party, a tiger will be left in our bathroom!" Else proclaims with one hand raised into the air and a broad smile spread across her lips as she soldiers on behind Delilah into the living room. "Let this be the dawning of the new age of not living where there's cockroaches, an' maybe Registration ain't so bad if it gets you upscale apartments on the gov'ment's dime, yeah?" Not that she'd quite stand on a table and say that at a Ferrymen meeting.
"C'mon, I brought me a boom-box so's we could party like it's 1999 or some shit, maybe we could listen to some casette tapes an' talk about the internet, I gots' me some classy things in my backpack, mn'yes." Thankfully for the people of the Octagon, Delilah Trafford and Else Kjelstrom have no neighbors on any side of them, save for the singular resident two floors down.
What Desmond Harper would have to say about his new neighbors…
…they'll be sure to find out eventually.