The Party Plan


colette_icon.gif quinn_icon.gif tamara_icon.gif tasha_icon.gif

Scene Title The Party Plan
Synopsis Quinn visits her new neighbours in hopes of both finally finding Colette about something, and maybe hanging out a little.
Date June 29th, 2010

Gun Hill: Colette, Tasha, and Tamara's Apartment

A ghost. That was what she had called Colette earlier, talking to Ygraine. Quinn herself was beginning to wonder if her joke had some factuality to it, the girl was impossible to track down for an serious amount of time lately, and when you have something you really want to ask someone, well, it gets a right bit annoying after a bit.

Not that Quinn was annoyed, but she knew time was running out on her request if she was going to get everything set up like she wanted to – here’s hoping. So, today she was sure was going to be the day that she finally got to bump into or find Colette doing whatever it is that she liked to spend her time doing during the week.

Besides, she needed to see when her next session would be, in the hopes that it didn’t cross over with either bit of work she had.

It’s lucky, then, that she’s moved in right next door to the other photokinetic. A literal hop, skip, and a jump, and she was there, knocking on the door. Hopefully, she’d find what it was she sought, this time.

It's furniture day at the apartment — after picking out several pieces with the help of her mother, and the help of her mother's credit card on Saturday, Tasha had stayed home all day to allow the furniture movers in and out of the place. Suddenly what was a shabby sad apartment looks almost chic and sophisticated. The furniture is modern, simple and inexpensive, the kind that looks nicer than it really is, but serves its purpose. Tasha is curled up in the corner of the new sofa reading a book when the knock comes.

Rising, she heads to the door, peering out the peephole to make sure it's someone she wants to open the door to — currently there's only one person that she'd probably play possum for, should she be on the other side. But seeing Quinn, the younger girl opens the door. "Hey, neighbor. Come to borrow a cup of sugar?" she teases.

“I actually came to borrow a person,” Quinn begins, scratching the back of her head. A split-second passes, and then Quinn, raises a finger with a nervous smile. “I- mean, is Colette around? I’ve been hoping to bump into her for a bit lately, but I haven’t had much luck…”

"She started working," Tasha says, to explain Colette's recent slipperiness when it comes to being caught. "She's not back yet, but I'm not sure when her last delivery is. She's working for a courier service, so, you know, has to ride all over town." She glances to the window, gauging the amount of sunlight left. "I think because it's summer and light longer, she might still be out on a run, you know? Do you want to come in and wait? Check out the new furniture?" She opens the door a little wider, for Quinn to come in if she so desires.

“A courier? That seems to be a popular job these days, I wonder if Ygraine got ‘er in…” At the invitation and new furniture, Quinn glances past Tasha, for the first time really noticing the change in appearance that the apartment has undergone. “I could certainly wait for a bit,” she says with a somewhat distracted nod as she steps in, eyes moving around the room. “You’ve been busy since the last time I was here, it looks quite nice I think.” A nod of confirmation follows, her hands moving to her hips. “And please, if I ever come here for sugar… don’t give it to me. It probably means I’m trying to cook again. It never ends well.”

Tasha laughs, shutting the door behind her. "You want something to drink? We have a veritable grocery store selection of soda, since I buy what all the kids like and they all like something different. Paul likes Dr. Pepper, Lance likes Mountain Dew, Juniper likes Cherry Coke, and so forth. I think they just like to make things difficult. Next time it's Coke for one and all, and if they don't like it, water it is, right?" The teen is dressed for a day of lounging, a pair of cut off jean shorts and a Buzz Lightyear t-shirt that's a bit snug and very faded, suggesting it was from her childhood.

“A water would be fine, thank you…” Taking a careful seat in something she can only assume is brand new, Quinn continues looking around. “Kids are… not always something I’m excited to deal with. Which is why it’s probably good that the ones I’ve seen around are so amusing,” Quinn notes as she leans forward, straightening the leg of her jeans. “You weren’t in the middle of anything, I hope? I’d hate to interrupt.

Tasha heads into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator to retrieve two Dasani bottles, returning to the living room and handing one to Quinn before taking a seat on the loveseat that's perpendicular to the couch. "Yeah, the kids are pretty great, actually. At least they're all big enough to go to the bathroom on their own and all. I draw the line at changing diapers." She uncaps her bottle and takes a sip. "Nope, was just reading, enjoying sitting on something besides a lawn chair. I heard you guys did great at the gig the other night, by the way. Sorry I missed it. I was on baby sitting duty."

“A shame, it was a lot of fun. I was hoping you and Colette could come, just t’ see the fools some of us made of ourselves.” The bottle of water is taken with a nod and a grateful smile, top screwed off quickly, and in a surprising moment later a good fourth the bottle is already gone. “Some more than others, granted. And I wanted to smack Magnes afterwards. But it went well enough.” Leaning back in the chair a bit, Quinn offers a smile. “Baby sitting duty sounds thrilling.”

"We had a rousing time playing Wii and Clue, let me tell you," Tasha says with a chuckle. "I'll come see your next gig, though." She speaks the words before thinking, frowning just a touch afterwards. Still, it's easy enough to watch a band play and not have to interact with the lead singer, right? Just fade into the crowd when all is said and done. She takes a gulp of her water, then changes the subject. "Magnes is all right now, right? I wonder if they've caught that crazy guy yet."

“Hopefully. I didn’t even hear about it until right before Magnes arrived. I-“ Quinn pauses, letting out an exasperated sigh. “He went to great length to be there, and I’m still kinda pissed at him for it. Wasn’t safe at all. I’m glad he’s okay, though.” Fingers drum on the side of the plastic bottle, Quinn tilting her head a bit. “Oh! I did have something else I came by to ask. None of the noise from my flat was disturbing earlier, was it? Or could you even hear?”

"If I heard it, it didn't bother me. We tend to have music going or headphones in our ears or TV on, so no big deal at all," Tasha says with a wave of her hand. "I don't think anyone here will care if you are loud — just once we have real residents in the place that pay rent, we should all probably be a little better behaved than we are now. The other day I caught Lance and Paul going down the stairs on cardboard boxes like it was a bunny hill at a ski resort or something."

“Well, I’m kind of cautious. My last flatmates didn’t take too kindly to it. It’s part of why I was so eager to get out,” Quinn remarks mater-of-factly. “I was more wondering because I’m been working on soundproofing my spare room, and I’m hoping it works.” At the mention of the kid’s antic, Quinn laughs, and rather loudly. “I’d have like t’ seen that, assuming they didn’t hurt themselves.”

"Somehow, those two seem to be injury-proof. I'm thinking Paul's power might just be really freakin' good luck," Tasha says with a laugh, pulling her legs up to the couch and wrapping her arms around them. "On the way to New York, he found a twenty dollar bill in the gutter one day, an mp3 player in a cab another day — I made him give it to the cab driver, though — and when he left his backpack on a ferry, it was actually turned in and with nothing missing. I think I should make him pick out some lottery numbers for me." Tasha takes another swallow of her water. "Anyway, no, not a problem with us, and hopefully no stodgy people move in when it's actually up for renting."

With conversation and the air-conditioner running, the noise of passage in the halls outside of the apartment is drowned out. It's only when keys rattle in the lock and the apartment door creaks open slowly that it's made evident Colette Nichols is home from a long day of work and other, less legal responsibilities. "Tasha!" Colette calls out from halfway in the door, a crinkling plastic grocery bag under one arm, her courier bag over her shoulders and a silently yipping Misty under her other arm. Apparently she snuck out into the lobby — again.

"Did Quinn actually move down a floor to 403? I swear to God if I had to bring her stuff all the way up to the fifth floor and she— " Colette's words cut off first when she notices furniture in the apartment, brows raised up to her hairline, and then furthermore when she spots Quinn in the apartment. " — she… uh— it…"

Awkward laughter ensues.

Quinn start out with just a bit of a giggle when she hears her name, erupting into a full on fit when Colette realises she’s in the apartment. “Well, if it was such a problem, I could have gotten it all myself, you know." She laughs, shaking her head at the other girl. “I’ve been looking for you for days, you know! What are you, a ghost?”

Seeing Misty, a huge smile comes across Quinn’s face, leaning down and opening her arms to the puppy.

Hopping off the loveseat with a giggle, Tasha heads to the door and takes the grocery bag, replacing it with the Dasani bottle that's cold and three-quarters full, leaning to plant a kiss on Colette's flustered face. "I think she just dumped it all in Sable's room but hadn't selected her own yet, if I recall," she says, tugging Colette in and spinning around the apartment.

"Do you like it?" she says, eyes sparkling as she watches the other's reaction, though she does frown just a touch at the word ghost. "Nope, she's completely corporeal and tangible and … and… ticklable…" she says, to divert Colette's attention of that word, if she takes it as ominous in anyway, reaching with her free hand to squeeze Colette's narrow waist in a playful jab.

Breaking out into a giggled snort at the jab to her stomach, Colette smiles impishly and lifts her brows up behind the ragged fringe of her bangs. Glancing around the apartment and seeing no signs of Tamara, Colette's teeth toy at her lower lip before she crouches down, letting the mute puppy make the only noise she can with claws on hardwood floor, scampering hastily over towards Quinn with tail thrashing left and right.

Looking up with a beaming smile to Tasha, Colette smiles thankfully for the bottle of water, then averts her mismatched eyes over to Quinn. "Sorry 'bout that, I uh, I started a full-time job on Monday on top of my other full-time job," which elicits a crooked smile from the double-entendre of it.

Taking a sip from the bottle, Colette's booted feet track across the living room, looking at the furniture and then back over her shoulder to Tasha. "This— this looks awesome," she admits with a broad smile. "I mean like— no more lawn furniture for pretend furniture!"

Squeaking happily, Colette turns around and offers a crooked look to Tasha, one brow lifted. "I may be real but I can be a ghost you know!" With those aptly-timed words, Colette fades away into streaks of stripped paint invisibility, followed by clunking footfalls until the loveseat sinks down in as she steals Tasha's spot, fading back into visibility with brush-strokes of color and value, sipping on that water bottle again.

Colette vanishing form view never ceases to impress Quinn, letting out a sound of awe as Colette vanishes, and again as she reappears. “You know I… should ask when we’re going to get together about that all that,” she remarks, twirling her finger in a circle at Colette. “And Tasha’s right, really. Though I didn’t realise I was moving in right next to you guys when I picked it out.”

She shifts her position in the seat, she reaches down and scoops up Misty, holding her up and nuzzling her face, clearly enoying having the puppy around. I wanted t’ ask you something, actually,” she says as she giggles, trying to hold the dog still in her lap. “Wasn’t sure if I should ask you or Jason.”

"Show off," Tasha says with affection, heading into the kitchen to put away the contents of the grocery bag, then grabbing another drink from the refrigerator, this time a Diet Coke can. She brings it back to the love seat, sitting next to Colette as she opens the can, the ksssh sound of the release of carbonation all she has to offer to the conversation at the moment, as she looks to Quinn to continue her query.

Sliding an arm around Tasha's waist and drawing her back to lean against Colette in a sideways embrace, the dark-haired photokinetic offers a look to Quinn with one brow raised and a crooked smile. "I dunno what you could want to ask Eric that I could help with. I mean, I dunno much about puppets or where to find really big pants." There's a crack of a smile at that, and Colette lifts up her water to take a sip, even as she squeezes Tasha close to her side.

"S'not about trainin', is it? I'm not sure when I'm going to have time off'a work to be able to take you to where I want to next, but I figure a couple weeks or so…" Colette's dark brows crease together, lips purse thoughtfully and Colette takes a moment to consider, but can't quite get ahead of Quinn's train of thought. Really, there's no way she could expect what Quinn wants to ask.

“Well, I kinda wanted to throw a party. Like, one for the building, with my DJ stuff an everything, on the fourth of July. I though it might be something people would enjoy, if it’s not too loud.” Quinn gives a shrug, and her head tilting to the side. “Though I probably should ask about training. And Eric, if that what everyone in the building calls him?”

"A party might be cool. I mean, it's the 4th, so it shouldn't upset any neighbors due to noise and all that, and we don't have real tenants yet so they can't complain, right?" Tasha says with a chuckle, content to curl up against Colette when pulled over to her. At the mention of Eric and the question of what to call him, she glances up to Colette, letting the "senior" Ferry member handle that pseudonym issue.

"I bet if we go on the roof we can see fireworks somewhere," Tasha adds. "Not that we need them — you two can just make them, right?" she grins and leans up to kiss Colette's cheek.

“The roof,” Quinn begins as she points at Tasha, “is exactly what I had in mind. I was thinking I could drag my DJin’ stuff up there for a day and night. We could have a nice little party.Soda for the kids, drinks for everyone else.” An enthusiastic nod, follows, and her gaze moves a bit to Colette, pointing at her now. “Ygraine suggested it makin’ it something to finish the garden, with music, then partying after that. I thought it sounded fun.”

She guns, amusedly at Tasha, shrugging. “Colette can make better fireworks, I’m sure. I’ll help, though.”

"Oh! Ah— Jason right it— his— middle name is Eric!" There's a spurt of awkward laughter bubbling up from Colette at that slip. "So I— you know I— there used to be another Jason I was friends with so— so I called him Eric to be different!" Colette is a pretty terrible liar usually, but that at least wasn't preposterous like some of her lies are.

Cheeks flushed at Tasha's affection, Colette offers a small smile and wrinkles her nose. "I um, I— I don't thinka party sounds like a bad idea. I can talk to— Jason and… uh, you know see if there's any sort've permits we gotta get. I think I know somebody in the Ferry who'd be pretty interested in helping out with the music too, so I can talk to her and see if she's busy or not!" Colette is unaware of the small slip there.

She immediately turns her attention to Tasha, lips pursed in playful smirking. "Fireworks are as much about boom as they are poof so like— we could do half of it." Grinning amusedly, it's clear that Colette is getting excited about the idea of a rooftop party. So excited she forgets what not to say at times.

“I- al…right…” Quinn seems a bit lost at Colette’s explanation about “Jason”, but she doesn’t dwell on it, instead choosing to shrug and move on. ”I’m glad t’ know you guys ike it! Everyone seems to so far, I’ve… asked a few people before now t’ see if there was, like… interest or anything.” Another long gulp of her water, and then she nods with renewed enthusiasm, sitting forward at the mention of someone and music. “Oooh! Who? There’s a chance I might know them from the scene and all!” The mention of the Ferry passes without notice- maybe it’s a club or bar she doesn’t know of. Such a thing does totally exist.

When Colette mentions someone in Ferry, Tasha's fingers find her waist to give a little teasing tickle and tactile reminder to be less loquacious about people in the Ferry. Quinn seems to find the multiple names of Jason to be more suspicious. "I think he was one of those Cabbage Patch named kids, Jason-Eric all one name, or something, silly parents," she says, trying to cover a little herself. Hopefully the ridiculous mouthful of a name doesn't remind Colette of Tasha's ridiculously long full name and bring it to the surface, when everyone else knows her simply as Tasha Oliver. "I for one can do without the boom — you could do silent fireworks in time to awesome music and we don't have to go deaf and set off car alarms and get ash in our hair, and it's all gravy."

Squeaking at the touch to her midsecion, Colette playfully swats at Tasha's hands, then creases her brows into a furrow and looks over to Quinn, smiling thoughtfully. "Oh uh, it— I dunno actually. She was pretty popular around New York for a while, I guess she even got like… an album put out and stuff? Her name's Else uh… Yellstrong? Something like that? Her last name's like, really foreign."

For someone in the music scene like Quinn, recognizing the — even if mangled — name of the lead singer of Else Kjelstrom and the Shattered Skies is easy. A high-profile Indy band that took a strangle-hold of New York just one summer ago, and then promptly disintegrated after the release of their first album.

And Colette… knows her?

"I could give her a call, she's friends with Andy. You might've seen him 'round here sometimes, tall shaved head black guy, British accent?" Colette waves a hand over the top of her head as if to indicate hairlessness. "She lives, uh, actually I'm not sure where she's living now but I could get in contact with her. I think it'd be cool, maybe… you know I could invite some friends of me an' Tasha's too…" There's an askance look over to Tasha and a crooked smile.

The dog in Quinn’s lap is entirely forgotten as sh suddenly springs forward, stopping just short of Colette and Tasha. Her eyes are held level with Colette’s, narrow and suspicious. “You’re lying. There’s no way you know Else Kjelstrom and I don't.” She says this with utter conviction, there’s just no way someone seemingly so outside the scene could know her. “That’s totally not fair! I have their feckin’ album, how can you know her and I don’t!” There’s mirth in her voice, and she laughs afterwards. “Don’t know the other guy you mentioned, but if I can throw a party and she wants to come, I’m all for it.”

Once the person that Colette is thinking about is made clear, Tasha rolls her eyes and knocks her head against Colette's. Not only some anonymous member, but the most famous member of Ferry, outed by Colette's rambling. She just giggles a little as Quinn cries out the lament 'It's not fair!' "Life's not fair, or so they say, but if Colette gets her druthers, you'll get to meet her, so it's all good, right?" When the puppy squirms out of the disappearing lap, Tasha reaches forward to pick up the dog, cuddling it on her lap instead. "Sounds like a good party, at any rate. We should probably clear it with Jason, though, yeah…?" Tasha asks, glancing up at Colette from where she's buried her face against Misty's apricot-colored furry scruff.

Ducking her head down and grinning, Colette looks up impishly to Quinn and then pushes her weight against Tasha in a playful shove. "I do so know Else, we totally painted buildings together over at Summer Meadows last fall. She's all 'bout the whole lending a hand to the people thing, volunteer work an' all that stuff." Lifting up her water bottle, Colette takes a long drink from it, then leans forward and sets it down on the new coffee table that is so much more convenient than a board stacked over two milk crates.

"Um, kinda' person question for ya, Quinn. Are… you Registered?" As Colette asks that she extricates herself from Tasha's side, leaning over to plant a kiss to the top of the brunette's head before making her way around the sofa, looking to have too much nervous energy to sit at the moment in her pacing.

"You know like, Registered, Registered. Sort've a personal question, but I thought it might be like… I'm just curious." Colette's actually fishing for intelligence at the moment, something she's been meaning to do for a long while now.

Quinn wrinkles her nose, and shrugs. Rising to her feet, she plops back down on the couch behind her. Into her pocket of her jeans a hand dips, and withdraws a thin card wallet. Flipped open and a single card withdrawn, and flipping lazily at Colette – her registration card, identifying her as a photokinetic.

“I did it a while back. It seemed like the right idea at the time. With wanting to go into music, and DJing, I… kinda expected it was only a matter of time before people found out, given how much I liked putting on lightshows while DJing and all. It seemed like the smarter move, rather than… causing problems down the line.”

The door to the hallway opens without announcement or even a simple knock, but then, the blonde who steps through it isn't known for her attention to those details. Or some others, like the disarrayed state of her hair and the smudge of dirt across one cheek. Tamara doesn't even hesitate at the sight of the furniture, neither it nor the three girls in the room being a surprise; she casts a slightly weary smile their way, while walking in along the other side of the coffee table. When she does hesitate, it's upon coming up beside the loveseat, casting a puzzled glance first at Tasha, then down at the object around which the fingers of her left hand are curled tight. The connection of mental dots is practically visible, and she holds her hand out across her body for Tasha to take the thing. "I think… this went with you."

An iPod that Tasha didn't know was missing — Tasha quirks her brows up at Tamara in confusion. "Huh. Did I lose it?" she says with a smile, clearly not angry but rather simply surprised as she lifts her hand up and takes the music player, glancing at it and back up at Tamara. She checks that the item is set to Off and slips it into her pocket. She smiles at Tamara again. "You okay?" she asks, though she isn't sure if the question will be answered for here and now or sometime in the future, which makes it a landmine of a query.

Caught by the presence of a registration card and the quality of Quinn's answer, Colette seems momentarially crestfallen before the apartment door opened. Distracted fully by Tamara's appearance, Colette's eyes grow wide and a smile crosses her lips. Though that Tamara is seeming more fatigued than usual elicits something of a frown, and wordlessly Colette steps around the coffee table and over to where Tamara stands by Tasha.

Lifting up one hand, Colette carefully takes Tamara's cheek in one hand, gently turning her head and then lifting another hand to carefully brush her thumb over the smudge of dirt on her skin. There's a faint smile at that, both hands lifting up to rake fingers thorugh the blonde's hair and try to sweep her unruly locks back and at least in a semblance of oraganization. It's like she's some sort of hair hypocrite, with how disheveled her own hair often looks.

No words for Tamara, just a touch of Colette's fingers over her cheek again and a smile, then a turn of mismatched eyes down to Tasha, recognizing the Diet Coke can, then a quick look up to Quinn before nodding her head and sliding an arm around Tamara's shoulders. "Go ahead'n take my seat," she nods to the loveseat, "I'll go get you something t'eat if you're hungry."

Colette's reaction to Tamara coming home is identical to that of Tasha's to Colette's, unsurprisingly.

Quinn is a but surprised by Tamara’s entrance – she was still grasping the fact that the odd woman she’d met outside her bookstore was in the building she’d just moved into. Funny how things work. For once, though, she doesn’t seem terribly confused by what Tamara says. Instead, she simply waves. “Hello, Tamara,” she remarks even as she leans forward to pick her registration card back up.

“So, what’s the deal?” Quinn asks of Colette as she starts to turn from the loveseat, sliding the card back into her wallet. “Are you registered? Not that I’m gonna run off an’ tell anyone if you’re not. ‘S your own decision and whatnot,” she remarks with a wave of her hand. Normally, she wouldn’t ask, but it was only in fair turn.

The blonde closes her eyes as Colette rubs off the streak of dirt, or at least spreads it around to the point of being less obviously visible. Opens her eyes again to look over at Tasha, to whose query she wobbles one hand in the air in wordless explanation. The fact that it's not a verbal reply is an answer in and of itself. She leans against Colette's arm briefly, then nods in assent and/or answer. Sitting down beside Tasha, Tamara pauses to ruffle Misty's ears, then unbuckles her sandals before pulling her feet up onto the cushion, arms folding around her knees. Blue eyes slip sidelong to Quinn, Tamara smiling in response to her wave. "Hello."

It probably helps that she's not saying much at a time, at least thus far.

The talk of registration has Tasha glance with some worry at Colette, as well as Tamara, whom she offers a smile to as the blonde sits beside her. Suddenly the fact the dog came in with Colette clicks with the youngest of the foursome and she turns to look at Colette and then Tamara.

"I… thought the dog was with Tamara," she says, glancing down at the puppy in her lap and then quizzically at the other two again. "Man, maybe I shouldn't babysit the Lighthouse kids. Mara would go running off or something and I wouldn't even notice," she says, rubbing her eyes before reaching for her Diet Coke and taking a sip.

"No," Colette distractedly answers halfway between the living room and the doorway that leads into the kitchen. Hesitating, she turns and looks back over to Quinn, shaking her head briefly. "No I— I'm not registered…" it seems like a somewhat touchy subject, or perhaps just an awkward one, all social and political implications not withstanding. Staring down at her feet briefly, Colette considers the kitchen, then looks back into the living room.

"You should talk to Jason, before you get anything set about the music. It's pretty short notice, but if there's any kind've permits we're gonna' need we should get 'em so police don't harass us." Pursing her lips to the side and shifting her weight to one foot, Colette looks towards where Tamara's curled up on the couch, then Tasha, then just dips her head down into an obviously distracted nod before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Sorry!” Quinn calls back, turning a bit in her chair. “I didn’t mean to pry.” She sighs, turning back to Tasha, with a shrug. “Shouldn’t’a asked, I guess. Not my business anyway…”

A cough, and she scratches the back of her, eyes moving to Tamara momentarily. “Would you be interested in a rooftop party, Tamara?” There’s a distinct pensiveness to her voice, eyes narrowed for a moment before she leans back in her seat. “Well, Tasha, at least she didn’t get far, right?”

Tamara looks over at Quinn, considering the young woman — or maybe the party of which she speaks. "Maybe for a little while," she finally replies. "If the edges were focused," the blonde qualifies obliquely, leaning her head against the nearer arm of the loveseat.

"Edges were focused?" Tasha says with a head tilt. She stands, putting the puppy on the loveseat right in front of Tamara's chest so the woman can snuggle with it. "There, now you can stretch out and nap if you want, or just stretch out," she says, knowing Tamara seems to prefer to sleep in odd spots instead of her actual bed.

"It's okay," she adds to Quinn quietly, with a nod toward Colette. "It's not really prying. She asked you first, right?" she points out, as she sips her soda and moves to perch on a velveteen cube-ottomon-storage thing. "Word of mouth will probably work 'cause it's probably just mostly us, people we know and all — I don't think we want to invite people we don't know, since I remember some parties being raided during the winter, right? Here and back in Boston, too. But I can still do a flyer of sorts, a little patrioticky Jasper Johns thing maybe? If you like."

In the kitchen, the sound of a microwave running implies that the forthcoming meal is going to be a hastily concocted one. It doesn't take long for something that vaguely resembles the smell of pasta and sauce comes drifting from the kitchen, but has that distinct from a can aroma to it. That's one of the few things this apartment has stocked up more than they might ever need; canned food. The Ferrymen have surplus of it from donations, and stocking Gun Hill was part of a way of using the canned goods before their expiration dates passed.

There's a clank and a rattle in the kitchen, something glass clunking around, followed by a hissing fizz noise like a soda bottle opening. The next few clunking and clomping footsteps Colette leaves tread closer to the door into the living room, which Colette leans into, gripping the door casing.

"Quinn!" Colette calls out, "Do you eat dairy?" There's a squint at that, as if indirectly accusing Quinn of being a vegan, or something only Colette would be possessed to do. She's weird like that, this is weird, which in turn is par for course.

The positive response from Tamara earns a wide smile on Quinn’s face, and a nod. “A flyer would be pretty could. At least to put in the halls of the building, right? I think that’d be really cool, really. As long as it’s not, like, gigantic. The roof has t’ stay safe after all.” The last bit of Quinn’s water is finished, and she opens her mouth to speak again, and is promptly interrupted by Colette.

“I’d be dead if I didn’t!” she shouts back, laughing. “I can’t cook for shite, so I eat a lot of cereal and premade stuff. And Ice cream. So go for it!”

Tamara smiles at Tasha as the younger girl gets up, but doesn't immediately stretch out to fill the vacated space; rather, she seems to do the exact opposite, shifting to sit more properly on her seat, letting her feet drop to the floor. Misty approves of this change, at least inasmuch as it means she can curl up on the cushion join with her chin on Tamara's knee. Once both are situated, Tamara at least seems content to quietly watch the other two through half-lidded eyes.

"I should go help her," Tasha tells the other two, standing and then spontaneously moving closer to Tamara to kiss the top of her blonde head — sooner or later she may be as affectionate as the two women she lives with. "At least carry it out and stuff if she's got it all together." She grins and sets the soda down on the coffee table before padding on her bare feet into the kitchen.

"Sorry I didn't get dinner on before you got home. I used to hate when my mom made dinner without seeing what I was in the mood for, so I was going to ask but … you're too speedy," she tells Colette once in the kitchen. "Need help with anything?"

It's an odd confluence of things that Tasha finds Colette working on in the kitchen. The thermos that has been sitting in the refrigerator since yesterday is out, all shiny and metal, cap off. Two tall and large glasses are being jammed full of ice-cream from a carton that she'd brought home tonight, and everything smells of coffee. That there's also a 'borrowed' bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream from Lynette's liquor cabinet isn't much of a surprise either, and she seems to be adding that in small dose atop the ice cream in both of the cups.

"Tamara's dinner's in the microwave, I had dinner with McRae tonight. He wouldn't take no for an answer and he's really kind've a miracle in the kitchen too. I had to deliver some stuff own there after work, s'why I took so long getting home."

Nodding to the microwave as it beeps noisily, Tasha can see an open can of canned Raviolli on the counter nearby waiting to be thrown away whenever Colette remembers. "This," she motions towards the cups, "is for you and Quinn! McRae taught me how to make them so I totally ran to the store to get the right kind of ice cream for it."

Picking up both of the cups, Colette leans in and up onto her toes, pressing a kiss to Tasha's forehead before nodding to the microwave again, then takes both the tall glasses with her as she heads out into the living room, leaving the carton of coffee bean chocolate ice cream sitting on the counter to presumably melt because she's forgetful. Thankfully Tasha is there to clean up after her.

"Good thing you're not vegan!" Colette explains as she come sauntering in carrying a pair of tall glasses with spoons sticking out of them. One of them is set down on the coffee table in front of where Tasha was sitting, intended for her. The other is held out towards Quinn with arched brows.

"Chocolate coffee bean ice cream float, in iced coffee. Yeah I— know it's a lot of caffene but it's so good. There's some Bailey's on top of it too, I hope you don't mind. It's how I learned to make it and it's mostly for flavorin'."

The prospect of ice cream excites Quinn greatly. Her arm snaps out, and she almost seems to snatch it from Colette’s hand – unintentional, but that’s how it goes sometimes. “Caffeine’s fine.I’m just not the biggest soda person. Love coffee, though,” she remarks with a smile, taking a spoonful into her mouth. “This is great after the dinner I had earlier.”

"Dessert before dinner… or probably more likely dessert for dinner, I don't think I'll be able to eat anything with actual nutritional value, but this is amazing," Tasha says grinning at the treat and the kiss from Colette. She quickly picks up the ice cream and puts it away, then tosses the can, before popping the door on the microwave open to pull out the bowl of ravioli.

Peering in the fridge, she finds some parmesan cheese to sprinkle on top, then grabs another bottle of Dasani for Tamara, along with a fork. All of this is put upon a brand new tray and carried to the living room and set on the coffee table in front of Tamara. "Milady's dinner," Tasha says with a grin, before reaching for the float and kissing Colette's cheek again.

"Just so you know, when I'm wide awake at three in the morning, Colette," she says, mischievous tone coloring her words, "I expect you to keep me entertained."

Reaching over to clink her glass against Quinn's, Tasha settles beside Colette and lifts her glass. "To friends, Gun Hill, and parties on the horizon."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License