Day Off


adel_icon.gif lene_icon.gif quinn_icon.gif

Scene Title Day Off
Synopsis It's Robyn Quinn's day off, and she gets to meet one of the drummer's self-proclaimed BFFs.
Date February 1, 2011

Greenwich Village

In a time that seems long ago, Greenwich Village was known for its bohemian vibe and culture, the supposed origin of the Beat movement, filled with apartment buildings, corner stores, pathways and even trees. There was a mix of upper class and lower, commercialism meeting a rich culture, and practically speaking, it was largely residential.

Now, it's a pale imitation of what it used to be. There is a sense of territory and foreboding, as if the streets aren't entirely safe to walk. It isn't taken care of, trash from past times and present littering the streets, cars that had been caught in the explosion lie like broken shells on the streets nearest the ground zero. Similarly, the buildings that took the brunt of the explosion are left in varying degrees of disarray. Some are entirely unusable, some have missing walls and partial roofs, and all of the abandoned complexes have been looted, home to squatters and poorer refugees.

As one walks through the Village, the damage becomes less and less obvious. There are stores and bars in service, and apartment buildings legitimately owned and run by landlords. People walk the streets a little freer, but like many places in this scarred city… anything can happen. Some of the damage done to buildings aren't all caused by the explosion from the past - bullet holes and bomb debris can be seen in some surfaces, and there is the distinct impression that Greenwich Village runs itself… whether people like it that way or not.

For most people, a day off is just that - a day off from work, a time to relax, a day to have to one's self and do whatever it is they wish to do. It is inherently a day that's not normally anything special at all, save for the fact that it's spent not being at one's usual daily obligation, whatever that may happen to be.

Today is not that kind of day.

For Robyn Quinn, this day off is a day to celebrate, and she's in a mood that reflects it as she bounds down the steps in The Village Renaissance from her third floor apartment, opting not to use the elevator this late morning - she could use the exercise anyway. Whistling, she wears a big black pair of headphones that match her black coat over her head, though one's pulled of her left ear so that she can still hear the world around her. Even with the bizarre events of the day before and the fact that one of her dearest loved ones is trapped in a fucking dome, she's in high spirits.

Enthusiastically kicking open the front door to the building isn't the easiest thing to do when wearing a long dark blue skirt, but she manages it, choosing not to take her cold hands out of the pockets of her jacket. Still whistling, she hops her way down the front steps and looks up and down the street, seeing if there's any cabs in sight. No dice, though, looks like she's pulling her scooter out of the snow.

Holy shit that is a lot of snow.

Six inches have already hammered down on New York City by the time Quinn comes scrambling out of the Village Renaissance Building, and the skies have opened up with a heavy downpour of snow that shows no sign of relenting any time soon. Public works have done nothing to the roads yet, and furrows where tires have cut tracks through the thickly accumulating carpet of snow is indicative of just how strained the city's public works budget is.

Traffic on 4th street is at a standstill in a gridlock of tail lights, exhaust fumes and idiling engines, caused by a traffic accident up the street. Blue lights from a police cruiser flash in that direction, honking and frustrated drivers in all four lanes up and down both sides of the street.

"It's like eeeeeeevery rooooose has it's thoooorn," comes sing-song down the sidewalk from a pair of young woman trudging through the falling snow, arms linked at the elbows, boots clomping down in the snow. One of them is unfamiliar to Robyn Quinn, being a tall, skinny thing in dark jeans and a red and black plaid pea coat, her mint green scarf and gloves contrasting sharply to the rest of her attire. A goofy knit cap covers a wavy mop of burgundy colored hair, complete with ear flaps and a pom-pom on the top.

The other person happens to be Adel Starkey.

The slightly shorter girl following along at her side doesn't immediately look like Adel, until closer inspection. Lost are the tributes to Funshine Bear, with the absurdly bright yellow that she often wears for a coat. Instead, her long coat is black. Only the navy hat on her head adds any color at the moment. A day for celebration? Perhaps not.

But Adel Starkey is doing something rather unique for her, to someone who has seen her in band practice many times. In the past, she has avoided any singing with the band, and perhaps it's because her voice shakes as she follows up the line, arm wrapped around the taller girl as she stares off into the cold sky, "Though it's been a while now, I can still feel so much pain." Though her voice wavers, and she's singing the notes wrong, she knows the lyrics and the beat by heart, and follows it well enough, despite the cold.

Maybe she just never sang because she would rather drum. "Like a knife that cuts, the wound heals, but the scar… that scar remains."

After that set of lines are done, she suddenly breaks and makes a sound between a giggle and a cough, as she leans more against her friend, even to the point of pressing her cheek against the chilled outside of the pea coat. That almost always present smile almost seems to be forced, for a wonder.

Could be the snow.

The sound of singing catches Quinn's attention pretty easily, even as she looks out at the street and lets out a bit of a huff - stupid fucking snow is going to make today a nightmare, but if she has to rent a snow plow, damnit, she's going to see her plans through.What is with this, anyway? Snow is supposed to be awesome. This is decidedly now awesome.

Continuing whistling - an astute listener might recognise the melody to Gimmie Sympathy - she shakes her head and turns, pulling her iPhone out of her pocket. No missed messages today, which means Ygraine hadn't called, which makes Quinn even more uneasy than the snow does. Not much she can do about either at the moment, though - Elaine had helped make that clear - so instead she starts thumbing through her contacts as she walks, paying very little mind to her surroundings save for the half audible sounds of singing. With the snow, it's best to get folks gathering at the apartment for their day trip as soon as possible so they could just go when got back from the errand she had to run.

The first call, by virtue of alphabetical order, goes to Adel Starkey, and it's only when she's hit send that the Irishwoman looks up and sees- the pait of girls ahead of her singing and- wait a sec…

"See? I told you she wasn't dead yet!" Lene admits rather loudly with a mitten-covered hand brandished in Quinn's direction, chipper smile spread across her lips and green eyes alight with mischief. Tugging Adel forward by their linked arms, Lene practically drags the more dour of the pair towards where Quinn is busily trying to loosen her scooter from the snow.

"Hey there!~" The faux redhead chirps with a flagrant wave of one hand from side to side, bouncing up out of the snow with a hop into the air, then back down to create a gust of snow that displaces around her boots and wafts up in fluttering ice crystals in the air. "Adel is being grumpy and I thought we might do well to be introduced." Still latched on to Adel's arm as though they were handcuffed together, Lene thrusts her free, mitten-clad hand out towards Quinn with a toothy smile. "Jolene Marl— ey?" Her nose wrinkles, brows furrow. "Marlow? I don't remember. Anyway it's fantastic to finally get to meet you! I've heard so much about you!"

"I never said— !" Adel tries to chirp out, before she shakes her head and stays attached. Grumpy. By the color and the appearance, she does seem to be unhappy in comparison to normal, but for anyone else she'd just seem overly clingy with a friend, not grumpy.

"You should have picked a famous name. Starkey is easy to remember. You could have been… Dickinson!" Those words make her giggle, as if she were twelve. It helps her mood, at the very least!

"Robyn, this is one of my best friends in the whole world, my BFF, and she's been wanting to meet you guys forever. I guess the snow finally canceled her so important job for the day."

That's said with one of those friendly shoulder bumps common between friends.

There's a moment from disbelief as Quinn eyes the approaching pair, now recognising Adel's voice as she pulls the remaining headphone down and off her ear. She blinks, and then looks down at her phone - still trying to connect to Adel's - as if it somehow had a hand in summoning the younger woman to her. BUt that's silly, right? Pressing end, the musician slides the phone back into her jacket pocket and turns her attention upwards, back to Jolene and Adel.

"Pleasure t' meet you, Jolene Marleyowe," Quinn remarks with a grin, taking the moment to make a playful jab at the odd indecision over the woman's own last name. Taking the outstretched hand, she gives asomewhat firm shake, but nothing particularly unlady like. Not that she's strong enough to hurt anyone's hand even if she wanted to. "I, um- it's nice t' meet a friend of Adel's, always," she says with a laugh, looking over towards the drummer. "She doesn't really make a habit a' bring any by," the Irishwoman teases, offering a wave over to her. "Which is somethin' she should really fix." THere's a bit of a grin at that.

Turning back to her scooter, Quinn tries hefting it out of the snow a bit more with a grunt. "FUck, where is Royce with the van?" she grumbles with a shake of her head. "I'm guessin' she's said good things, then? I mean, unless this is one a' those things where you come t' look at a trainwreck in action," she continues, laughing as she tries, with little result, to get her scooter out again. "Or is that why she's grumpy?" A smile is flashed at Adel, Quinn leaning over and hently baping her on the head. "Today's a day t' have fun, not be grumpy. Comin' t' Jersey t'day? Jolene's welcome t' come too, if she'd like."

"She's grumpy because her ex is playin' his usual tuck and run games with her, and her new squeeze went off and got his dumb ass stuck in the bubble over on the river." A gloved thumb jerks over Lene's shoulder, casually, in the direction of Roosevelt Island and Queens to the east. "Trust me she'll get over it, an' to that point I was thinking the three of us might be able to take a hike down to Atlantic City," hey that's in Jersey! "Hit up some casinos, do some drinking…" Dark brows lift, waggle and then lower as Lene slips her arm from around Adel's, and starts to circle through the snow around Quinn and to the scooter.

"There isn't a curfew in New Jersey, and Atlantic City isn't that far of a drive. If we get started now we can be out of New York in a couple hours," given the traffic, "an' on our way to an evening of gambling, high-rolling and stiff liquor." Flashing a look at Adel, Lene furrows her brows, then reaches out to take the handlebar of the scooter. The snow begins falling sideways around Lene, rolling off of the air above her as if she were suddenly surrounded by some invisible sphere.

One brow arches, and the snow around her feet unsetles and shifts in a swirl. A moment later, she lifts the scooter up out of the snowbank it's been plowed into with one arm, as if it were made of rice paper and tinfoil for all it weighs. Lene's hair goes wild and untamed, floating freely around her as if possessed of a life all its own. In one of the cars adjacento n the street, a child watchinf presses his face up against the rear window, breath fogging up the glass.

The scooted comes back down onto the sideway as Lene lowers it with a creak of the shocks and a bounce of its tires. Her hair falls limp, the snow unsettles from the top of the sphere surrounding her, falling all at once down atop her head. "So, gambling? Drinks?" An open-mouthed smile seems to disregard what just happened as having happened.

"Lene!!!," Adel practically yelps as that personal information is revealed. She turns a blushing shade of red, which she likely hopes gets dismissed. But there's another reason for her looking at her friend in frustration, as she demonstrates in front of someone. But luckily she realizes something else that catches her attention.

She's vibrating. May have been for a bit, because— Quinn's phone tried to connect for a while. "Show off," she mutters to Lene, with a bit of a frown, even as she sticks out her tongue, before she looks down at the id on the fancy phone. Though actually it's more saying she missed a call now. Oops.

"I'd love to go to Jersey, sure, but— we don't really have scooters of our own, and… I can't really take a cab…" Or do anything that needs a registration card, for that matter. Do Casinos require registration cards? "And I've told her the band is great really. She's a huge fan already!" It seems whatever made Adel unhappy at Lene has already passed. As it usually does.

Well. That's a lot of information to take in in a short amount of time. Quinn is opening her mouth to respond when Lene decides to - as Adel astutely put it - show off. And quite the display it is, Quinn just sort of staring and watching, secertly hoping that Lene isn't about to break her only personal means of transportation. When it settles back down on the ground, she quirks an eyebrow, watching the scooter for any sign that it's going to spontaneously break apart, before she looks back up at Lene.

"Uh…wow. That was really feckin' cool," she says with a bit of a laugh. "Do you need a brush after that?" She bends a bit, inspecting the bike. "THe hell was that, anyway? The closest I've seen t' anythin' like that is Magnes when just picks shit up. Doesn't look that neat when he does it, though…" Trailing off, she shrugs a bit as she looks between them

"Atlantic City… I never really thought about that. It'd make for a hell of a celebration, that's for sure." Quinn certainly doesn't seem turned off to the idea. She does give a bit of a look to Adel, though, furrowing her brow. "Friend a' mine'll be here in abit with his van, I was plannin' on runnin' an errand, seein' if I needed t' pick you or Sable up, but I guess not. "What's wrong with a cab, though? I mean, they aren't my favourite, but…" Leaning lightly against the scooter, she crosses her arms. "I know how you feel, by the by," she remarks a bit more quietly, with a bit of a frown. "Ygraine's stuck inside too. Thank god Elaine's here, really."

And the frown quickly turns back into a smile, Quinn pointing at Adel. "But I'm tryin' not t' let it keep me down, keepin' busy. Was goin' int' Jersey t' pick up the CD t'day. I think a night in Atlantic City afterwards might be perfect," she says with a smirk. "If Jolene's a fan,s he more than welcome t' come an' get one for free. Has a Mad Muse song on it. If not, I need t' give you a few things, Adel."

"I didn't do anything," Lene dismissed with a shrug and a crooked smile, brushing her mittens off and stepping away from the scooter. Green eyes flick back and forth between Adel and Quinn, and Lene's brows furrow subtly as she tries to follow the pieces of the conversation she's missing important context for. Instead of actually following the conversation, however, she just interjects with a slice of her own.

"I love Mad Muse, you guys are fantastic! I think my favorite song's— " Lene presses her tongue to the inside of her cheek, grimacing awkwardly and running one hand through her hair, exhaling a breathy sigh afterward. "Well— you know— I'm bad with names. Don't worry about it though, you're A-ok in my book. You— should do a cover of an Else Kjelstrom and the Shattered Skies song, though. Maybe Shores of the Empire State?" One of Lene's brows arch slowly. "It'd be primal t'hear Sable singing an Else tune, yeah?"

Toying at her bottom lip with her teeth, Lene offers an askance look to Adel, then sidesteps behind her, sliding her arms around Adel's waist from behind and wobbles from side to side, swaying the brunette for no other reason that she can. Soon, Lene's chin rests on Adel's shoulder, eyes fixed on Quinn.

"Get the whole band together, we can split the cost of one of those penthouse suites for the night between all of us. I've got a paycheck from Redbird burning a hole in my pocket, and Ingrid makes better money'n me anyway, so she can handle the rent." Lene is responsible.

"We do covers! I think we had a plan to do a cover of one of her songs too. Magnes mentioned it as a possible memorial concert," Adel speaks up, as if to distract people from something. As she does, she scoots their close knit group toward Quinn and smiles up at her sheepishly. "I kind of never got myself registered— Sable and Magnes know, I figured you did too. So I can't take cabs. I'm fighting against the man!" The man being the government.

But her fight against the man means she has no credit card, has a phone in a different name— and she totally pawned Howard's iPad since he couldn't keep it it anyway.

"I don't have much, but I'll put in my share."

"I'd love t' get the whole band t'gether, but I haven't spoken t' Magnes in weeks. Not since- well. Let's just say he said somethin' he shouldn't've, an' I haven't really been makin' an effort since." Which, as far as Quinn knows, is news to Adel. To whit, she offers an apologetic smile in the drummers direction. "Was goin' t' say somethin' about that t'day, sorry. Sable an' I are thinkin' about gettin' everyone t'gether soon, though. Hopefully in the next week or two."

The mention of Else, though, gets a sad look and a weary laugh. "Yeah, I- was thinking about doing a cover of Shores of the Empire State for my next realease, but… we all loved Else. She was a friend, for the short time I knew her, so i'm sure the rest a' the band would be up for that too. Was plannin' on playin' City of Glass at my first show, which…" Her eyes flick over to Adel for a moment, offering another apologetic smile. "Should be next week, at THe ROck Cellar," she says, motioning her thumb over in the direction of the venue/resturant's entrance.

With that, her attention turns more fully to Adel, Quinn rising up form against her scooter. "I don't blame you," the musician offers, shaking her head. "I kinda regret it m'self. But, that's… somethin' we're going t' have t' look int', if you're gonna be famous, you know?" She offers a smile, reaching out and ruffling her hair. "But, we'll worry about that another time, okay?" she offers. She doesn't say it, but she thinks she knows who she can talk to about the matter, at least as a temporary measure.

"So, what. Do we wait here for the van? I can get Elaine down here, Sable should be around soon. I think Jersey for a day sounds like a plan."

"Well, I'd say we take a cab, but somebody here's all man fightin'." Smirking playfully, Lene slides her arms from around Adel's waist, then steps over to stand beside her, facing Quinn. "I think you should give Magnes a second chance. He's— sounds like a good kid, just— kind of dumb, y'know? My mom used t'have a friend like that, one of her best friends, really. I don't think she ever regretted anything more than losing contact with him, y'know?"

Tucking gloved hands into the pockets of her pea coat, Lene tucks her chin behind the mint green fabric of her scarf. She starts to say something, then stops, her breath hitching in the back of her throat, sigh visible as a puff of steam from her lips. "Maybe Atlantic City was just a pipe dream…" Lene admits with suddenly wistful tone to her voice. "I— I shouldn't spend my rent money on gambling, if Ingrid lost the place she— " there's a whine of protest, but Lene knows what's right, ultimately. "I just wanted t'come down here and meet you. It's— something I've been wanting to do for a long time, I just… kind'f had to work up the nerve."

Chewing at her bottom lip, Lene walks away from the pair, then turns around, her back to the street, heels on the curb. "Me an' Adel have a mutual friend," that Lene doesn't quantify as Adel's ex this time. "His name's Howard. If he shows back up again, I— I really think you guys should invite him to your show. I think he'd like it, a lot." Green eyes briefly dart to Adel, then back to Quinn. "If you guys'v already got plans, I shouldn't interfere. 'Sides, I needed to… go to Queens to check up on something anyway."

"I know Magnes said something dumb, but— yeah, it would be a shame to shut him out just because of his mouth when… anyway, it's Sable's decision, has she said anything yet? When I saw it on youtube I was all 'oh my god he's so fired!!!' but no one's said anything since and…" Adel trails off, but sounds like she has more to say, even if Lene keeps saying half the things sh emight say for her. One could imagine how much motor mouths these two could be, as BFFs.

The whole world might know the other's secrets!!! Or at least Adel's.

"I was going to invite him if he comes back— And… your other roomate, the one who crashes on your couch. I know he'd love to come too! And you of course. You're always invited." Cue a a hop and a girlish hug from behind as the girl turns away.

"You better not be getting into trouble too or I'll claw your face off," she whispers into Lene's ears, all smiles even as she says it. The threat is very minimal.

"I can go, though, definitely! And I can give Lene a free disc— I'd actually like a couple, for some more of my friends!" She'll leave out the fact she made low quality copies of some of their practices already. Mostly for Howard and JJ.

"Well, I was pissed at him at first, but we've also just both been really busy…" Quinn rolls her shoulders in a shrug. "I wasn't really tryin' t' shut him out, an' I have some- other issues with him when it comes t' the band, but that's somethin' for another time, you know?" She offers a smile at the two of them, laughing at their antics. "BUt you're right, it's Sable decision. I've actually talked him out of quitting the band once already. I've never been anglin' t' get him out," is actually sort of a lie, but it sounds better than "I wanted him out, but I've changed my mind for now".

"Is your Howard a dick?" she asks with a laugh, looking back towards the entrance of The Verb. "Every Howard I've ever known was a dick. I think it's something about how bad the name it. It makes people act that way outta spite." She grins, tapping her food at she looks over at Lene. "I've got money," the Irishwoman notes, "A bit t' spare. I really like this Atlantic City idea, better than drivin' back in the snow in the dark. So, I'm up for it if you are." She shrugs again, "We can wait up a bit. I have errands anyway, so whatever you wanna do, Lene. You're always wlecmoe t' come by, a friend of Adel's is a friend a' mine."

"Her Howard's a dick," Lene admits with a faint smile creeping across her lips. "He's— still a friend, though. He's got his reasons, I'll give him that much…" Walking backwards through the snow, Lene's scuffing bootfalls track deep ruts in the unshoveled mess. "Maybe if what I gotta do gets done, I'll call Adel and see what you guys are up to. Otherwise— you know— I'll catch you around." Mood swings like this aren't uncommon in Lene, from Adel's knowledge of her. Vacillating between bubbly one moment and sullen the next.

Depression can be a difficult thing to deal with, especially when no one realizes what it is.

"I'll tell Joshua you made that offer," Lene adds to Adel, mock-saluting her with a mitten clad hand, a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. "Just— " it sounded like she was going to ask something, but then just stops, letting out an awkward, bubbling laughter and waves one hand dismissively through the air.

"Just have fun," Lene concedes in the end, turning around and away from Adel after having walked her all the way here from across town. It's a long way to Queens, a long way to the dome. As much as Jolene didn't want to face the reality of that sphere cutting through the city, she has to. Curiosity is getting the better of her. Curiosity and stubbornness.

"It— " Lene pauses, lifting up a hand to wave. "It was nice seeing you, Quinn— Robyn. It— it was nice." It was nice seems so dumb after the fact, but Lene's wan smile recognizes that afterthought as she turns around.

For a moment, Adel looks as if she's about to say something, and gets saved by her wordy friend. Little do they need to know she almost missheard the other woman. There's a cough, as the only clue, a gloved hand coming to cover her mouth and catch the germs. "He's a dick with a reason, yeah," she agrees outloud, stepping away in the cold snow a bit.

"You're definitely always welcome. All of you are. And we'll definitely have fun! No more moping I promise," she raises her hands into the sky, making fists as if she's challanging life to a boxing match.

Then she glances back at Quinn and suddenly says, "If we need to wait for a van— can we wait inside? It's cold."

Quinn grimaces a bit as she watches Jolene start away, a hand raised to wave her off. "I was nice to meet you too, Jolene!" is an enthusiastic reply, though the hand quickly moves back into her coat pocket, the musician sighing a bit and shaking her head. "Shame she had t' run off. Maybe she'll call us later." She shrugs, turning back to Adel.

"Huh? Oh! Shit, yeah. Might as well. I wasn't expecitn' anyone else t' get here yet. I can hold off on swingin' by the studio, though. I was just going t' ask a frend a' mine who works there about somethin'." But really, she doesn't think putting off asking Nicole Nichols how to get in touch with her sister one or two days is really going to hinder that process any. Besides, she can just call her, right. "An' she was nice enough t' get my scooter out. Ah, well. At least it'll be less buried now."

Turning back towards the building, Quinn motions for Adel to follow. "So, she seems nice. You'll have t' bring her around more often." A pause, and she smirks. "She single? You should've told me you had cute friends." She's teasing, of course, or at least she hopes her tone relays that well enough. "ANyway, Elanie's upstairs makin' some food for us t' take with us. Which means you're just in time for lunch…"

Walking off down the street in the heavily falling snow, Jolene allows her step to seem like it has a bounce in it as she walks, but the more she lingers on the prospect of having a good time the harder it is to actually commit herself to doing it. She's not supposed to be relaxing, she's not supposed to be having a vacation, she isn't a tourist here in New York City. Bitter emotions show in her expression now that she isn't facing friends, resentful emotions coupled with a sense of abandonment and lonliness.

To be in a city of a few million, and be able to feel so alone and so lost isn't unique. Maybe it's some sort of seasonal depression, she always has hated the snow, hated what it meant to her, hated what it represented. But it's more than that, it's being here in New York, it's hearing a siren in the distace while holding a conversation. It's the feeling of the earth about to give way under everyone's feet at any moment.

Jolene has to remind herself that New York isn't a vacation.

It's a mission, and one she's failing minute by minute.

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