The Best Name Possible...


cat_icon.gif delilah_icon.gif elaine_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif sable_icon.gif

Scene Title The Best Name Possible…
Synopsis … for Delilah's child is, according to Magnes, Clark Picard Batman Trafford. Conversation centers on this, music, and languages.
Date May 4, 2010

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.

Morning, specifically a Tuesday morning, and it's still so very fucking cold. Cold as antarctica, even. Despite this, just as he was when Vincent Lazzaro came to her and has been every day before and since, the news vendor is present and open for business. Cat makes her way out of the Verb, covers the half block, and places money on the counter. "The usual," she states, and he seems to have expected it. New York Times, LA Times, Times of London, Washington Post; they're all set out.

But today Cat has a minor curveball to throw. "Got a Dutch paper in there? Maybe one from Amsterdam?"

He does, though it's two weeks old and was the only copy. The Dutch paper is placed on top of the stack and a total is cited.

"Thanks." She pays and turns back toward the Verb. There's coffee in there. Fingers hold keys for the Rock Cellar because it's closer than the front doors and she can use the elevator to go up from inside.

"So this place, the Rock Cellar," Magnes is explaining something to Elaine, bundled up in a long black zipped up leather jacket, which stops just above the knees of his dark blue jeans, also wearing black snow boots. "It's where I'm planning to have our first big gig, not sure when, but I wanna wait until we're ready." He's holding her hand, his excuse being so he can more easily clear the snow and ice they walk over. But they're almost to that news stand, and he spots a familiar face. "Hey, Cat!"

Sure, they're holding hands. Even still, Elaine acts nonchalant. After all, why would it be a big thing? She glances to Magnes. "It's a pretty cool place, looks like. So, are you in need of groupies? I don't know that my third-grade violin skills would cut it for your band, so I can go for the next best thing." Her eyes flicker over to the woman Magnes is greeting, offering a smile to the unfamiliar face.

It's a face that's partly hidden by thick winter gear, but there is enough of it visible to be seen and recognized under the parka. Cat looks up from the stack of newpapers she'd briefly feasted eyes on to spot the approaching pair. "Morning, Magnes," she greets, before nodding to the very tall woman with him. Holding hands. Nice, it suggests the man has moved on. Or is trying to. Good for him.

Her feet keep going, thick boots crossing a clear walkway outside the Verb and down the stairs to the Cellar where she works to use the keys and open the door. "Too cold out here," she remarks, "come inside. Got coffee." The Dutch paper on top is clearly visible.

"Oh, sure." Magnes smiles, walking up after Cat and gently pulling Elaine along. "Elaine, this is Cat, Cat, Elaine. Cat's a good friend, one of the only people geekier than me, in an academic sense. Not sure about her comic geekery." he teases, following behind.

A-hah! Elaine wasn't given the ambiguous 'friend' term this time, so she seems more than content to be tugged along. She looks between Magnes and Cat. "Nice to meet you." She looks to Magnes. "You've got quite a collection of friends."

The Rock Cellar

A comfortable place, located in the basement of 14 East 4th Street. The red brick walls are covered with memorabilia from various icons of rock and places in rock history, creating a feel similar to that of a Hard Rock Cafe.

The left wall has two bars separated by swinging doors which lead to and from the kitchen. Directly across from the entrance is a two foot high stage with all the equipment needed for acts to perform there. The right wall has three doors marked as restrooms: two for use by women and one by men.

Thirty square feet of open space for dancing and standing room is kept between the stage and the comfortable seating placed around tables which fill the remainder of the Cellar.

The lighting here is often kept dim for purposes of ambience, and when performers are onstage the place is loud enough to make conversation difficult. Just inside the door is a podium where location staff check IDs and stamp the hands of those under twenty-one with a substance visible under UV lights at the two bars and by devices the servers carry. On the podium's front is a sign with big black letters that just about explain it all: If You Don't Like Rock 'N' Roll, You're Too Late Now!

It's been spotty getting back home again- at least- the home Dee had before getting carted off; though she's been thinking hard on the moving thing. Else's offer was quite attractive. But, for now, Delilah's home is upstairs in the building above the Rock Cellar. It's only her second time getting back here, and instead of going directly upstairs to mill there for a few hours, Delilah stayed downstairs in the bar to visit some of the various people she worked with until she got sick. Not quite ready to come back to work yet.

Lilah is sitting at one of the bars, petering on the stool and sipping at a mug of cocoa. The girl that seems to be chatting her up is one of the regular employees, and though the conversation doesn't seem outright important, Delilah is doing her best to pay whole attention. Until the door opens from the front and the cold wafts in. Then, she has to look. When the redhead does catch sight of the people coming in, she immediately lifts a hand to wave in greeting. "Hey! You're letting the hot air out, you know-"

The lead figure, woman-shaped and five feet eight inches tall, holds the door for the other two behind her, but does seem to be ushering them inside with some degree of urgency. She turns partway toward the bar where Dee is perched, enough for her face to be seen, and chuckles. "I know, I know." Once all three are in, Cat closes the door behind them. "It's a good thing there's an apartment building above with room to house people," Cat remarks, "otherwise the place would be closed now. Penguin weather isn't good for business, but with staff nearby I've stayed open for whoever comes."

Then what the two people with her said registers. She seems to twitch a little, maybe a stoic's version of bristling. She isn't a geek! She's a rocker chick who keeps getting sidetracked at heart! "Good to meet you also, Elaine." Her feet are heading for a table in the shadows, perhaps one she favors. One of the servers is addressed. "Could we get coffee, please." Once there, the newspapers are set down. Dutch one still on top.

As the door closes, something unexpected can be glimpsed. A squad of tuxedo'd birds waddling by across the street, moving in formation.

Magnes hurries in, still lightly tugging Elaine by the hand to get them both out of the cold quickly. "Delilah!" he exclaims, releasing Elaine's hand and running over to her. Elaine's likely heard the name Delilah mentioned before. "How is everything?" he immediately asks, reaching down to lightly touch her stomach. "Oh, Elaine, Delilah. Delilah, Elaine. You can both… accent at eachother."

Delilah takes a long gulp of her drink before setting it down and immediately giving Magnes a hug when he runs over. She laughs when he touches her on the middle; not ticklish, exactly, but she sort of edges from it. "I heard about what you did." Her laugh melts right into seriousness at him. "Don't ever do something like that again." For measure, she hits him in the arm. Other than this, she turns to step off the stool and greet the new(ish) face. She swears that she's seen this other redhead somewhere- but right now it's not coming to her. Dee grins off as Cat goes to sit, looking back to the girl nearby that had come in with Magnes.

"Elaine? Hi. Accent at each other?" At this, she does peer off at the young man by her, then back.
She's leaving Magnes to catch up with Delilah and introduce Elaine, taking time to remove her winter gear at the table she favors. Once the parka and other gear, including gloves, are off Cat can be seen more fully. She's got a bandage on the right side of her neck and seems a little stiff there by the way she moves. The server she spoke to goes about getting coffee for three people.

Cat leaves the Dutch newspaper on top of the stack and pulls out the New York Times. Reading will happen while others converse, she having missed Magnes touching Dee's belly.

Heaven knows there are enough things in Greenwich Village for a larcenous mind with musical tastes to get distracted by. It's a wonder, as far as Sable is concerned, that more people haven't taken advantage of the near-total suspension of casual law enforcement and abandonment of most shops to do a little looting. Truth be told, she's never really had the guts to do anything much more than petty theft, but after rubbing the frost from a storefront window and peering in, hands cupped around eyes to cut the omnipresent glare, she was transfixed by the rows of beautiful, beautiful instruments just sitting there in the dark.

"Jus'… jus' gimme a moment," was what she told Magnes and Elaine as she lingered, struggling with the question of whether or not it might /just/ be worth it to rob a real store /just/ this once. It's a moral battle that practical concerns end up deciding. Though Magnes could help her get them home, she's sure he wouldn't, and she can't exactly store them in a snowbank to retrieve them later (an idea that she seriously entertains for a few minutes).

This accounts for her delay as she trundles down into the Rock Cellar for the third time in her stay in New York, tracking in generous amounts of snow as she tromps down the stairs. "Sorry!" she calls out from behind her scarf. She tugs it down, freeing her mouth, "Sorry!" she repeats, "Y'all haven't started drinkin' without me or anything?"

Accent at each other? Elaine's curiosity piqued, she heads over closer from where she was admiring the building a bit. As Magnes makes the introduction, the woman squints for a second, then it seems to come to her. "Delilah?" There, of course, is the Scottish accent. "/Hey/! I know you! From the Lighthouse. I was there, 'bout a year ago… remember?"

Magnes raises an eyebrow, backing up a bit so the two can converse. He crosses his arms as a few thoughts run through his mind, mostly involving every girl he does seeming to know eachother. "Uh…" Then Sable comes, and he quickly ushers her over. "Hey, Sable. This is Delilah, I know you've wanted to see her forever."

"Oh!" Delilah perks up, an expression of dawning on her face. "Oh wait! Yeah! You'd been sent or something, right? Lots of kids, forgive me." She lifts a knuckle to rap at her own temple. "And Sable!" Dee exclaims past Magnes next, lifting a hand to wave to the other young woman. Maybe if Magnes is not careful, they'll all start talking about him. "We've met like, once, ever, in passing- small world and all, right?" The redhead of cinnamony complexion waves all of them down with one hand, motioning to where Cat has sat with the other.

"Table's got enough seats."

The server, bringing those three cups of coffee, causes Cat to look up from her papers and spot Delilah motioning her way. Eyes survey the group, noting the arrival of Sable who she jammed onstage with last year. August 24th. "Better bring two more cups," she suggests. The server nods and moves away to get those.

And Cat? She's singing under her breath. "The king told the boogie men, better let that raga drop…"

Sable is busy shedding layers, spinning entirely unnecessarily as she sheds mittens, hat, coat, undercoat, in a flurry of knitting, gorax and powered snow. She finally emerges, only some strides from the others, with a trail of discarded winter gear behind her. Her hair is a wild tangle, her cheeks flushed red, her weird yellow eyes darting from face to face as she recalls everyone. Cat she knows. Elaine she knows. Magnes, duh. Delilah!

"Magnes raised my expectations unrealistically, y'have to understand," she says sidling forward and taking Delilah's hand. She does not shake it however, but instead bows and, in a wildly anachronistic gesture, kisses her knuckles. "Enchante," she says, waggling her brows. She learned that routine from a movie she saw recently! Her eyes cut over to Magnes, "I see you weren't exaggeratin', man," she tells him, before returning to Delilah, "A Pleasure, an honor, 'n' a delight like you don't know, hon."

Sable releases Delilah's hand and sets her own arms akimbo. Cat, right! "Been an age!" she says, offering her hand in a way that suggests no further shenanigans, "Still grateful fer the audition," she thumbs at Magnes, "We're /still/ looking for a drummer. Of fucking course, right?"

Well, there's a whole party now, it seems. Elaine's quite content to take in the surroundings. "No, I totally get it. Places like that, people come and go. Yeah, I got sent there. They thought it might be a bit of a better fit til I turned eighteen and all." And certainly, her life got pretty interesting after she left the Lighthouse, but she won't go into that. Ah, and there's Sable. Seems like it's definitely a party alright. Then her eyes scan the stack of newspapers. Ooooooooh. The Dutch one is snatched up, and she proceeds to glance through the headlines.

Magnes seems a little confused… or at least some sort of odd surprised look on his face. "Man. Well, I'm glad you like her, Sable." his expression softens, and he smiles, heading over to Elaine to look down at the paper, a gentle hand placed against the middle of her back. "So, you can really read that?"

Delilah has an unrestrained smile when Sable comes over presumably to say hello-

-only Dee ends up with a fluttering, flowery greeting, with one hand being taken up and kissed, to boot. There are a few seconds where she seems to be processing something, until her smile tweaks up again and parts into a small laugh. In return, the girl uses her free hand to pick up the edge of her skirt and offer Sable's theatrics a small curtsey. "Lovely to finally meet you, eye to eye." As they shift towards the table, Delilah is there sidling along to pull herself down into a chair across from Cat.

"You look tired, dear." If Delilah knows about the messes as of late, she doesn't say- or hint at which, for that matter. There are a few. "I hope you're sleeping well." As well as Cat can sleep.

"Tired?" Cat asks Delilah, her head shaking. "But the Mayor does look tired. Good to see you back out and about, Dee." The redhead, that is the shorter of the two redheads, is briefly studied to perhaps assess her state of health. Then Sable is regarded with a chuckle. "You'll find your Ringo soon enough. Don't worry."

Then she's turning attention to Elaine as she commences to read the top paper's headlines. "You read Dutch? I picked it up so I could compare it firsthand with German, see if I can figure out most of it."

Mere moments later, the server returns with coffee for those who didn't already have it.

"'course, who'll that make me and Magnes?" Sable asks of Cat; she glances to Magnes again, eyeing him, "Whaddya think? McCartney, instrument-wise," she grins, crookedly, "'n' he's got that boyish thing goin' on for him," she turns back to Cat, "I'm cool with that. That'd make me the Lennon, and that's fuckin' /rad/."

She spots the coffee, lifts it into her hands, takes a quick sniff of it, sips, winces. "Owowow," she says, lips pursing as her burned tongue curls up in protest. She just holds the coffee for now, stepping from side to side, vacillating between the desire to sit, and the desire to get a look at the newspaper that's drawn so much interest.

"Uh, no, actually. I don't." Elaine smiles sheepishly. "But I thought I might as well start. Always up for learning something new." She peers at the headlines, chuckling a bit to herself. Apparently she's found something funny. In the paper she can't read.

"I'm cool with being McCartney, I write a lot of crazy songs anyway." Magnes holds an invisible mic, stepping in the middle of the floor. "Do you don't you want me to love you? I"m coming down fast but I'm miles above you! Tell me tell me come on tell me the answer! And you may be a lover but you aint no dancer…" he impromtu sings, his voice coming a long way since the last time Delilah heard him sing, then he holds the invisible mic out to Sable to sing the rougher part of the song.

Perhaps a bit late, Delilah offers the server a passive wave. "Oh, no thanks, I'm good. I'm not drinking coffee, I'm expecting." Though offhand it seems like too much information for the server fellow, what Dee has done is basically pass on a drink and at the same time tell Cat the news. Dee folds her hands there on the table, smiling in subdued pride. Technically, she also tells Elaine- and the others- again, for them. Magnes provides enough of a distraction for Cat to likely process if she must, allowing Delilah to look over at the young man and his invisible mic. Maybe the band thing is good for him after all. He did get better.

Attention shifts between three fronts: Magnes and Sable talking music as the female says she could be Lennon and Magnes proposes to be McCartney, then sings a piece of Helter Skelter. The lyrics of that tune about an English amusement park feature run through her mind, along with everything she's ever read about it. "Fuck you, Charles Manson," she murmurs under her breath.

It doesn't seem odd, Elaine commenting about learning as she does. Cat functions much the same way. It doesn't yet register that the Scot-voiced one is learning Dutch on the fly, she thinks some image or a word in Dutch caused the laughter. "I'm going to find what matches with German and translate as much as I can, then read a Dutch to English dictionary and some grammar books to pick up the rest."

Aaaaaand she blinks, catching Delilah's denial of coffee and commentary on it. "That's new," Cat remarks with brows raised in a Spockish way. The unspoken questions: Who tagged you, Dee? And do I need to go lean on him to be a standup guy? Anyone seeking to duck child support should live in fear of Dee's lawyer.

"Oh, that's a good way of learning. If you ever need any help, I'm sure I could lend a hand. I'm pretty decent with languages. I'm trying to find work as a translator, actually." Elaine glances over at Delilah and her refusal of the coffee, and she blinks a bit. "Oh! Congratulations." She pauses. "Assuming congratulations are in order, of course."

There's a bit of an odd smile on Elaine's face as she watches the banter and subsequent singing between Magnes and Sable. "That offer for a groupie still stands, you know." She grins, now, before she looks back to Cat, glancing to the newspaper again. "Oh, that's a good way of learning. If you ever need any help, I'm sure I could lend a hand. I'm pretty decent with languages. I'm trying to find work as a translator, actually." Elaine glances over at Delilah and her refusal of the coffee, and she blinks a bit. "Oh! Congratulations." She pauses. "Assuming congratulations are in order, of course."

"It's not mine." Magnes is quick to say of the baby, so there's no potential confusion or awkwardness he'll have to deal with. Though who knows, the declaration might make things even worse.

Meanwhile, Sable's taken the invisible mic and ran up to the stage, getting into a singing frenzy. "Go! Helter skelter! Helter skelter! Yeah!" she yells in her rough voice capable of doing things it's gonna take Magnes a while to learn.

He, meanwhile, has resigned himself to watching the remaining three women, curious of how this whole situation is going to end for him. "Oh, and uh, about Teo… I was just, really drunk, sorry."

Delilah does not seem to be upset by it, and smiles slightly more at Elaine. It appears to be good news, from her calmness in letting them know. "Teo, Cat." Delilah can see the question coming just before Magnes blurts out it wasn't him. Dee sighs for a second, looking over at the young man with a small warning glare. "Fine, drunk. But if I hear something about you doing it again, I'm gonna find you and punch our your eye." That's a good enough warning, right?

Back to Cat. "I only found out two months in- I'm about twelve weeks now, so it's not been long since I found out anyway. Been taking it easy with the news. Some people haven't been …as keen about it." Though she isn't blaming herself if there are people displeased about the idea; she did what she was supposed to in all regards. Things happen.

Eyes slowly move from one person to another in a string as they speak, Cat adding things up in her head. Magnes claims it's not his, Elaine speaks of learning languages easily, Magnes says he did something with Teo while drunk, and Dee says the child is half-Teo. It's a learning experience all around. Including that Teo, like Cat, can play for both teams.

"Congrats, Dee," Cat offers with a smile. "Insurance is good, you won't have to worry about any of the costs." She doesn't mention Teo. But in her head she's thinking maybe they can celebrate his fatherhood by kicking Carlisle Dreyfus around until he begs for his own mother.

Elaine actually laughs a little at Magnes' quick defense, raising an eyebrow in his direction before she looks back to Delilah. "Well, I think it's a good thing. Plus, if you need a sitter, you can always bug me. I'm pretty good with kids.. and I don't have a lot to do these days." Considering most of her days were spent struggling to survive, she's finding herself with a lot more free time as of late.

"I'm not worried about the costs or anything right now, It'll be fine, I'm sure. I've got til November." Delilah smiles to Elaine and nods. "I'm gonna have a lot of sitters, so you'll be on the list. No shortage of guardians or role models, I bet. Everyone seems to think it's gonna be a boy. Else included, so I'm kind of- inclined to believe her, actually. Though considering me, maybe I'll put him in dresses anyway." Oh that poor child.

"Don't worry about me and Teo. If he's gonna be the father then I intend to make sure he knows everything I do with the baby, which means I can't be punching him every time I see him." Magnes goes to sit at the bar, motioning for Elaine to come over. "It'll be nice having a baby around though. I've never even really held one. I've read five books on babies this week."

"I'm not worried about the costs or anything right now, It'll be fine, I'm sure. I've got til November." Delilah smiles to Elaine and nods. "I'm gonna have a lot of sitters, so you'll be on the list. No shortage of guardians or role models, I bet. Everyone seems to think it's gonna be a boy. Else included, so I'm kind of- inclined to believe her, actually. Though considering me, maybe I'll put him in dresses anyway." Oh that poor child.

"Between now and then, though, Dee, you've got a number of doctor visits to do. Ultrasounds, blood pressure checks, general health for you and the child inside." Cat seems confident she'll need that insurance. Her head tilts. "Else. Did she write a song about the child being a boy?" Because that would have real meaning. "If you have a son, and you put him in dresses, one of three things will be true. He'll need a lot of therapy, he'll be a good fighter from having to defend himself constantly, or both."

Following Magnes over to the bar, Elaine takes a seat, settling in as she looks at the others. "Or he might learn to appreciate good fashion." She leans against the bar a bit, eyes distant as it seems her mind has momentarily wandered elsewhere. After a minute or two of a blank expression, she resumes glancing through the Dutch newspaper.

Magnes stares at Delilah for a few seconds, then sighs. "I have to agree with Cat on the dresses." as much as he typically likes pleasing Delilah, he can't have a boy he'll help raise growing up in dresses! "I should probably learn to make baby clothes, I've never made those kind of clothes before…"

"I'm well aware of what being pregnant means, Cat." Delilah chuckles and reaches over to pat her on the arm. "I've been looking at doctors in between the snow, but it seems a lot of them are in limbo right now. So I've sorta got to wait til the weather goes before I do anything too big. The people at the hospital on Roosevelt cleared me, but that was a few weeks ago and I'm curious as to how it's going now, what with my knowing. My power hasn't come back either, so I dunno if that's cause of him or cause of the flu. I don't think it'd do anything to him if it came back, but it's one of those things I'm worried about."

She'll find out that she doesn't need to worry so much, but for now it is what it is. "Else was determined to help me with names, but, well, she only ever wrote one. Over and over, the same one I'd already picked years ago. He'll be a badass, I'm sure. With an appreciation for how hard women work to look nice. A Sicilian-Irishman? Seriously? Nobody'll give him shit, ever." Delilah, by now, is just grinning.

Under the table, Cat is texting Helena to suggest she come down to the Cellar, there's something she needs to hear. No elaboration is given, nor does Cat much intend to let the pregnant redhead know what she's up to.

Helena. Got news. Come to Cellar.

"What name did you pick, that Else wrote?" she asks. Coffee is picked up and enjoyed, eyes closing. Good stuff. Though her bandaged neck is a little stiff, drinking is a twee bit uncomfortable.

"Make clothes?" Elaine peers at Magnes cautiously. "You make clothes too? Is there anything you /don't/ do?" She chuckles a little, then she leafs through the paper lightly. "You make me sound so boring. I think I need to develop some hobbies."

"Speaking of Else, I wonder whatever happened to that singer. And yeah, I wanna know what this kid's name is gonna be too! Magnes is a good name, or Clark, Clark Picard Batman Trafford." Magnes nods, arms crossed, as if he's just decided the best name possible. "And yeah, I make clothes, Delilah got me into regular clothes, though what I normally make are costumes. And you should take up the violin again! And maybe Warhammer 40K or something."

"It wasn't just what she wrote- I decided a long time ago that if I had a son I'd name him after my grandfather. Walter. She kept trying to write others, but the pencil would start a letter and just- she'd write it again." Delilah gives off a nervous laugh, glancing over to Elaine. "He does a lot of things like that. Get in his closet sometime."

"Walter's a great name, Dee," she encourages. "Self-fulfilling prophecy." Oh God. Being tough might not be enough for the Trafford boy, Cat suspects. Mother wants to put him in dresses, Magnes wants to name him for Superman, an enterprise captain, and Batman. Kid's going to need to start carrying guns and knives by age five to avoid the ass kickings and wedgies waiting for him. Her eyes close, the head shakes. Because Cat is making a decision. Delilah will dress the kid, Magnes will call the boy whatever he wants, but Cat?

She'll stealthily teach the boy Krav Maga.

"I like it. Calling him Walt for short is kind of cute, too." Elaine is unaware of how everyone's already making designs for this kid, but she does take a moment to listen to Magnes. "The violin I could see… Warhammer 40k? I'm a bit nerdy, but that might be pushing it a little for me." She glances at the Dutch paper, then laughs after a moment. "Man, some countries have some /weird/ laws.."

"Yeah, that's a good name, especially naming him after your grandfather." Magnes agrees, though adds, "Walter Batman Trafford." he states with a firm nod. "I'm sure if you hang out with Cat long enough, you'll learn something good. And did you learn Dutch?" he asks Elaine quite casually.

Helter Skelter is not a short song, and one can't begin it without ending it. Sable, safely immured behind walls of rock, is immune to discussion of child naming/rearing/whatever else, a discuss she might otherwise have opined on to her general social detriment. There is, after all, a fine line between charmingly crass and just plain vulgar. One of many lines walked, as she is fond of saying, every day of her life.

But even the longest of songs must eventually end, even those that fade out in the studio recordings, and finally the course sound of guitar ebbs, and Sable stows her borrowed instrument, tapping her chest lightly after the rather forceful vocals the Beatles tune demanded of her. She shambles down from the stage, rejoining the others, scratching the nape of her neck as she catches onto the discussion of naming children. "Walter's good," is her addition to the discussion, "Isn't fuckin' stupid."

Cat and everyone else, most likely. Then again, maybe by puberty he'll have other ways to …avoid bullies. Hopefully. "My grandpa hated being called Walt, but I'll wean this one onto it if it's a boy. I don't have a middle yet, but I have an inkling for one. It's not Clark, Picard, or Batman. Or Bruce. Or Wayne." Delilah continues, looking pointedly at Magnes for that. "I don't have any girl names though- so if anyone has some, feel free. I have the feeling I won't need them though. Teo seems to think it's a boy, Else and her paper- I guess I kinda think so too."

She's relieved, though she doesn't much let on having been concerned in the first place. One source of bullying down. Now, about those dresses… There's plenty of time. "Maybe Emma Trafford would fit." A suggestion, idly offered by Cat, as she shifts attention to Elaine. "Impressive. Either you already knew Dutch, or you're learning it very quickly without any study of syntax or vocabulary. If it's the former, you're not a bad actress."

As for Sable's turn, Cat is mulling things over. The scratchy voice, it's tempting to ask her to do a few bars of a Janis tune. And she's thinking of her fifth floor recording studio.

Elaine glances towards Cat with a bit of a mischivious look. "Maybe it's a bit of both," she comments, the Scottish accent gone entirely as she speaks. A moment later, though, it's back as she looks back towards Magnes. "Naming a kid after Batman might seem cool, but years down the road are you really going to want that kid to have to have such high expectations on him?" The Dutch paper is neatly folded and set down in front of her.

"Well, I guess that's a good point…" Magnes agrees of Elaine, then quickly points at Cat. "But she's trying to name the baby after the White Queen! If we're gonna use an X-Men motif, then name her Jean, or Jubilation." He crosses his arms, mulling over a middle name. "I think I've got a nice middle name." Technically people could assume he's never told anyone his middle name, since all he ever says is 'J'. After that, he gives Sable a nod. "Nice."

Sable squints at Elaine, then turns her eye to Magnes as he addresses her. "What the hell /is/ your middle name? You, y'know… use that damned squareish initial all the fuckin' time. Does that mean you want people to, like, I dunno… know just the first letter?" A very deep analysis right there. She wheels to face Delilah, "Well… whatcha want her little self to grow up to be, if she's a gal? Gotta name her right, let her grow into it, huh?"

"My grandma was Vittoria, and she was Italian- so that's as close to one as I'm getting." Emma's pretty cute. Delilah leans on the table, smiling over at the others and seeming quite at home with herself. "I'm not naming it after anything from a comic book. Or show, or cartoon. My middle name is Russell. But it'd only work if he had red hair too." Dee looks up to Sable, leaning on her hand. "Whatever she wants to be. Or he. But I'm hoping for a kid that grows up to be heroic, if I gotta choose." Aww.

She listens, she observes, and opts not to debate Magnes on the White Queen not being anything from X-Men or even named Emma. She's a character from Through The Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll. Eyes rest briefly on Delilah, Cat's voice musing. "Vittoria. Victoria. It's a winning name."

Then her eyes come back to land on Elaine, she forms a slight smirk, and graces the Translator with just five words. "I'll remember you said that."

Elaine goes suspiciously quiet. Well, one might not find it too suspicious unless they were paying close attention, but she does distinctly not jump into the middle name conversation. She glances back to Cat, offering her a bit of a grin in response before she glances back at the newspaper. Seems she's looking for a distraction.

Magnes takes Elaine's hand, placing it on the table inbetween both of his, though he doesn't seem to make a big deal out of it and just continues on with the discussion. "Alright, no comic names. And what do you mean you don't know my middle name? It's Jay. Victoria's a good name for a girl, I agree."

"What, yer middle name's a letter?" Sable says, with a chuckle. Very good. "That's about the squarest thing I've ever heard. You gotta be careful. You'll start redeeming squares in my eyes, keeping at it like you do." She frowns, before saying to Delilah, "Victoria was a fat ol' lump, but she was the Queen of England or whatever, right? I dunno. I'd go for… Joan. Then you've got Joan of Arc /and/ Joan Jett. No losin' there."

Delilah is apt to notice touching, if just cause Magnes is so collected about it at all times. She is proud on one hand, a bit wary on the other. Winning name- what- oh. Dee is a bit slow on that one, but smirks at the end. "But then I also have Joan Rivers. And I know some Joanns that bother me a lot." No go, for once. "He means it's Jay, I think. J-a-y. Right?"

Sable is eyed with something of a grin, the rocker chick in Cat's heart approving of the association. "Joan Jett of Arc would sing Bad Reputation as she was set on fire, and not give a damn about it," she muses briefly. But there's also the information collector, the one almost always seeking to learn. She's got attention on Elaine. "Which languages do you speak, read, and write?"

With her hand held between Magnes', Elaine relaxes the tiniest fraction of a bit. Still, she seems a little silent, perhaps something to do with the conversation at hand. At least, until she's addressed. Her eyes flicker to Magnes for a moment, an eyebrow quirked, before she looks back to Cat. "Currently? English, Spanish, French, Italian, and Gaelic. Oh, and I suppose a little bit of Dutch. If you're counting /all/ languages, though, I know Klingon and Quenya as well."

"Strict language training and all!" Magnes quickly speaks up, as if trying to explain why Elaine knows so many languages. Though he's a bit too quick to explain, it's weird. "And yeah, J-a-y, Jay. I can't believe no one knew that. And isn't there a superheroine named Joanna Angel or something? I never saw her before, but I always see people on the internet talking about her."

The yellow eyed girl gives Cat a toothy grin. "That's a role model for the new fuckin' generation!" she exclaims. At the explanation of Magnes middle name slash initial, Sable looks skeptical, "That ain't a middle name. That's like… I dunno. Spelling out a letter. We should change that, y'know? Make the 'J' stand for something cool. Like… 'Jeremiah'. He was a prophet, y'know?" Thanks, Sunday school. "Honest, I think you should ditch whatever name your parents gave you anyhow. What the hell do they know?" She turns to Delilah, touching her shoulder with the tips of her fingers, "Not you, hon. I'm sure you'll make a hell of a mum."

Sable and Magnes are given a good humored grin, though Elaine gets a curious squint from Delilah now, and one redhead studies the other carefully. "Quenya? Isn't that the Tolkien elves?" Suddenly Delilah is on her mental toes. Nerdgasm. "You know it? Oh man- I've always loved it so much- and god, the script is beautiful- can you write it too?"

Still focused on Elaine, and curious, Cat's commentary is quiet. "That's better than me," she replies, "I only know English, French, Spanish, German, Italian, Russian, and Hebrew. Hebrew was trickiest, because it goes right to left. My brain always wanted to go the usual way." Her coffee is lifted and sipped from. "I remember the words and rules the way I read them, as translations from English. It's all good in a book, but something entirely written in it, not so much."

"I don't know. Names can be important things," Elaine remarks quietly to Sable's suggestion of ditching the name. It's dropped, quickly, as she focuses on the conversation on languages. "Yeah, Quenya is the Tolkien elves. He was an incredibly smart man to come up with all that linguistic stuff. It's all very beautiful, if you ask me." She smiles over at Delilah, before speaking again. "Nalye melda meldanyo." The way she pronounces it is very natural, not hindered by the Scottish accent as the words seem to really come with their own accent of a sort. "I'll let you in on a secret.. one of the few things I keep, probably one of the few objects I'd actually get pissed off if I lost, it's a journal. The entire script is all in Quenya. Mostly because it looks so cool…"

Elaine's eyes flicker to Cat. "Well, I don't know that it's better than you. You've got quite a bit more on me, there… I do like to study them, though. I wouldn't mind learning if you've ever the care to teach."

"Alright, guys, sorry to cut this short." Magnes stands, still holding Elaine's hand. "I wanna get you two home, then I gotta go shopping for groceries, pay the rent, run a few errands for Tracy, and buy Elaine some new clothes. So, I've got a long day." He motions for Sable to get ready as well. "Nice talking to you guys."

Sable quirks her lips to one side, "Y'know, I'd tell you to run along home by yerself if I didn't need a goddamn airlift to get back home," she says, scowling a little, "But fine, sure. Whatever, man. Gotta get an early night anyhow. Shit to do tomorrow." She turns towards Delilah and Cat, lifting a hand in a salute, "I'm gotta see y'all soon, if Magnes doesn't accidentally drop me or nothin'. Thanks fer letting me eff around on stage, Cat. Delilah…" she flashes a grin, "You just keep bein' you, hon. Damn but if you ain't good at it." She winks, which is really just unnecessary, then turns and starts to gather the layers she shed on her way in.

Delilah smiles broadly at Elaine, looking a little wistful at her now. Mostly the elvish thing. "It was lovely to meet both of you- again, I suppose. I'm sure we'll see a lot of one another. Don't drop anyone, Magnes. Get around safe, you guys. Here's hoping it lets up so we can all get back to normal, eh?" The redhead stays at the table with Cat, lifting her hand in a slight wag of goodbye.

"We're about the same, actually," Cat assesses. "I'm not much for teaching, I just learn them fairly quickly. I do the reading when free time hits me and absorb the knowledge. You don't seem to need any help picking languages up anyway."

And here we have Magnes prepping to leave with Sable and his apparent new girlfriend. She also stands. "Don't freeze heading back across town," Cat advises, "and Elaine… I'll remember you want to work with languages." A brief smile is flashed.

After the trio has departed, she who remembers all is content to enjoy her coffee and converse with Delilah. Or let her slip away if she chooses.

Elaine nods to Magnes, glancing back to Sable, then the others. "Yeah.. it was really great meeting everyone. Hopefully the weather will make it easier to hang out again sometime soon." She nods to Cat. "Thanks. I'm sure we'll speak again, in some manner or another."

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