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| Scene Title | Wooden Inquisition |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Quinn begins the process of moving into Gun Hill, and shenanigans ensue on all fronts, and Joanna stops by to check on her daughter and is introduced to the eccentric Gun Hill crew. |
| Date | June 23, 2010 |
It wasn’t every day that Quinn was behind the wheel of an honest to god car, much less a van. Usually only when it involved the transportation of musical instruments did she ever really. But in this particular instance, it was so much more than that. For the first time in five years, she’s packing up her life and getting ready to move to a new home.
She had placed a few calls before beginning to haul things into the van she’s rented for the day, hoping to get as many people as possible from Gun Hill to aid in the adventure of moving. Normally she’d feel bad about recruiting the aid of folks she was still getting to know, but particularly with someone like Magnes around who could pretty much make the whole effort a formality, it seemed like a good idea.
The van is a bit jerky as it comes to s top in fron of the building, Quinn behind the whell and looking slightly worse for wear for it. It’s packed full of boxes of incidental things – her computer, some of her instruments, boxes and bins of CDs and clothes, and what little kitchenware she had, even her TV and the cushions to her house. It wasn’t a lot, but enough that it would take her a bit of time to do herself, and if she was lucky, maybe she get some help later and just get the rest of her stuff.
The door shuts with a slam, a weary looking Quinn bounding around building side, eyes staring ahead. It was weird to be looking at a new home.
Sable is rarely on the lookout for work to do. She generally does just enough to sooth her worries about being perceived (perhaps not without reason) as a mooch and a freeloader. But this is a chore of a different kind. The band is coming together under one roof. No more commutes, no more worries over practice logistics. In a word (borrowed from her stint in Boston): wicked.
So gung-ho is she that she's waiting on the front stoop when Quinn arrives, and immediately bounds to her feet as the van wheels into view, a familiar and still newly-dark head caught sight of in the driver's seat. She heads around the corner to meet Quinn midway, grinning wide as all get out. "Welcome the fuck home, hon!" she declares, "What shit needs movin'?"
This kind of heat is rather more than many of even the natives can cope with, and few of those are choosing to dress predominantly in black - let alone also in leather. Still, the wind-chill effect of riding a motorcycle - especially a powerful one, driven with an eye for speed - has distinct advantages, and by the time that she pulls up outside the building Ygraine has barely begun melting at all.
That process does threaten to get rapidly underway, however, as soon as the Briton brings her vehicle rumbling to a halt and the oppressive weight of the day can press down upon her. Her helmet is hastily removed, long braid shaken free, and jacket unzipped to allow more air in - all before she even dismounts her bike.
Swinging off the Tiger, she offers a cheery wave in Quinn's direction, but initially busies herself with stowing away both helmet and flag-decorated jacket in the panniers of her bike. Though her skin gleams palely in the sun, it's clearly preferable to expose a midriff-baring top to the world than it is to dissolve within reinforced black leather.
Shorts and a tank top are Elaine's choice of garb for the day, and she peeks out an upstairs window before bounding down to come help. "This is going to be awesome!" She exclaims as she heads out the door, moving towards the van. "It's going to be freaking easy to visit most of the people I'd wanna visit, now."
Tasha, a little more on the outskirts of Quinn's ever-widening group of friends, didn't get a request to help move — Colette probably meant to ask her and probably forgot. But her timing is impeccable as she comes walking up the sidewalk with Lance and Paul in tow, all of them carrying grocery bags — the canvas type that Tasha insisted they buy for the sake of the planet, with a cheery "Paper or Plastic? Neither!" word bubble being shared and apparently spoken in unison by a tree, a dolphin, and a bird.
She arches a brow at the van and the growing congregation of people around it. "Looks like you boys get to help move stuff and break things," she teases. "Go put those in Lynette's apartment. Pauly, here's the key," she tells the two orphans, swapping a bag to one hand so she can delve into the pocket — nope, not that pocket… not that pocket either — of her cargo shorts to come up with the key ring. Her groceries are then passed off to Lance. "Put away the cold stuff first, then the other stuff. Hurry before the ice cream melts."
Quinn looks around with a quirked eyebrow. She’s a bit surprised by that people actually responded to her inquiries for help – she’d hadn’t really expected anyone given how unpleasant an experience it can be, and much less by the enthusiasm by which it’s met. She scratches the side of her head, smiling. “Oh, wow. This is awesome. It’s gonna go by right quick.” A wave is given to Sable and Elaine, then to Ygraine – spotting Tasha as she comes up on the rest of them.
“Tasha!” Quinn shouts, waving. “You’re just in time, if you’re lookin’ for something to do!” Hands move to the girl’s hips, tilting. “I wanna help bring in some of my stuff?” She wrinkles her nose. “I know it’s a short notice, but it’s not too much…”
Trailing off, she pivots back to the others, pulling headphones down from her ears and around her neck. “I… think things are going into Sable’s room, until everything gets set up proper. It’s not much. Some clothes, CDs, kitchen stuff…” she trails off, counting on her fingers as she talks.
Going to the window himself right after Elaine leaves the apartment, Magnes is wearing his black sneakers, blue jeans, and a black t-shirt with pie written in blue numbers. Instead of following after, he just leaps from the window and lands with his knees bent slightly. "Looks like the band's all here now."
"I've managed to track down a bar showing England's World Cup game today, so you've got me until shortly before then", Ygraine says, stalking closer to Quinn and the others nearby. Her accent is unmistakably British and educated - and is likely to be familiar to those who attended the recent subterranean Ferry meeting.
"But I should be able to put in some useful work before then, I hope." Raising a hand in greeting, she offers a faintly nervous grin to the array of strangers, rolling her shoulders to ease a little tension - toned muscles shifting smoothly under the pale skin. "Hi. I'm Ygraine. I'm Quinn's cheap immigrant labour for the da-AY!", the startled yelp a response to the unexpected drop-in arrival of the youth close by.
Elaine notes Magnes' arrival and turns to face him, sticking out her tongue. "Show off," she mutters. In French. Turning back towards the others, the redhead gives a friendly wave to Ygraine, who she hasn't met before as she catches the comment about cheap immigrant labor. Grinning, Elaine remarks, "What, you mean you're getting paid /something/? Aw, and I thought we were all doing it out of the kindness of our own hearts." Scottish accent and all, though those with a /very/ sharp ear might pick up it's practiced. "Ygraine? Like the Arthurian legend?"
The two boys head in with their arms full of groceries. "Come back but only after you put them all away. No eating anything except your candy bars. I will know and then you'll be in trouble!" Tasha calls after them, trying to look fierce but only garnering giggles from the two trouble makers.
Tasha arches a brow at the dramatic Magnes entrance. "Maggie Poppins is here to just spoonful of sugar them away, so not sure how much help you actually need," the teen adds, moving closer to van and the others, nodding to those she knows before smiling at Ygraine's introduction. "I'm Tasha. Nice to meet you," she says, offering a hand to shake to the Brit.
A chuckle escapes Quinn’s lips as the congregations grows, shaking her head. “Cheap?” She remarks with a quirked eyebrow aimed at Ygraine. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem. A few boxes and bins and such. The heavy stuff’s still back home. She then turns to Magnes, pointing at him as her other hand slides in her pocket. “Just the man I wanted t’ see. Think you can help me Saturday with th’ heavy stuff?”
She doesn’t wait for an immediate response, turning and quickly making her way to the back of the truck. It takes her a moment of effort and a bit of grunting, but she manages to throw the back up with enough effort to send her stumbling back a few steps. It’s just as she head – a number of boxes and bins, and several loose appliances, enough to get each of them taking a few trips. “I… think it’s all just going to Sable’s room, until I can get the rest of my stuff over here…” she remarks as she climbs into the truck, peeking back out to wave everyone over.
"Always", Ygraine says dryly, answering Elaine in effortless French even as she accepts Tasha's offered hand, shaking it warmly - her grip firm, the palm of her riding glove slightly scratchy. "A pleasure to meet you", she assures Tasha, before cracking a swift grin at Elaine.
"Yes, like a few figures in the older Welsh legends of Arthur, starting with his mother. I'm impressed. Very few people have any idea what its origin might be. And…." Cocking her head, she quirks a smile at the redhead, and flips back to French - her tone rather eagerly curious. "You're Francophone? Or have you just picked up a few useful bits and pieces?"
"Oh, sure, and… wait a minute." Magnes suddenly points to Ygraine. "Gravity Girl!" He exclaims, having forgotten her name already. "I guess we'll get this stuff inside in no time."
Oh! Elaine's suddenly very interested. She smirks, glancing back to Ygraine before wincing at Magnes' nickname. "I'm Elaine. Which also tends to pop up a lot in Arthurian legend a lot. Arthur's half-sister, I believe." Then she switches to French. "I'm fluent, though I've only had the pleasure of visiting France once, I'm afraid. Not much of a budget for travel these days." Oh yes, Ygraine has definitely registered on Elaine's radar as Interesting, emphasis on the capital I.
Ygraine's motorcycle is a noise machine, though of a different quality to the high-pitching whining coming down the cracked pavement of Gun Hill Road. There's a sputter of an exhaust along the way, and to both residents and friends recognize the distinctive splutter of Colette Nichols' dirt bike. The battered old red and white vehicle crests the north hill and comes rolling down towards the brick-faced tenement building. Seated atop it, Colette looks windblown but thankfully cool in all this miserable heat, her black denim jacket unbuttoned and tanktop beneath fluttering against her chest.
Slowing down on seeing the congregation outside of the apartment building, the hemetless rider comes to a rolling stop, leaning the narrow-framed bike to the side and planting one booted foot down on the ground, eyes wide. "Shit!" Colette exclaims, alarm visible on her face as she staggeringly pulls herself off of the dirt bike, that tattered olive-drab courier bag still slung around her shoulders as she walks.
"Oh shit it's Wednesday! Crap! Crap!" Hustling up onto the sidewalk, Colette's booted feet clomp on the pavement under the hot sun. "Oh man I totally forgot about this, crap!" That likely explains Tasha's surprise at the fact of Quinn's moving in.
Colette forgetting something important, unsurprising.
While she has no control over gravity to help her, Tasha heads to the back of the truck, grabbing a box and making her way toward the building. Right as the girl is about to juggle her load with the door handle — distracted by a glance of amusement at Colette's graceful, swearing entrance — Paul shoves the door open from the inside, smacking into the Tasha's knuckles where they wrap around the corners of the box. "Sonuvabitch," she swears, then bites her lip, lifting one hand to point a now-bruised finger at the two boys, lifting her knee to keep the box from slipping. "You didn't hear that form me. Go help Quinn." And in she goes to deliver the box to Sable's apartment.
"Plenny of fuckin' room in my place," Sable says, chipper as anything as it seems all the world converges to welcome Quinn into their midst. "I ain't over burdened with material fuckin' possessions." Yes, that's Sable, quite the ascetic. Ygraine is a new face, and at first it looks as if Sable is about to nose in and introduce herself in some way appropriate to her mood and mode, but then she starts talking French, and that halts her intentions. She squints, as if maybe the right twist of her vision will may what she hears more sensible. Of course, this is a failed tactic. "Arright, I'ma just gonna start grabbin' shit that I c'n reach," she says, heading off around the corner, towards Quinn's parked van. She catches Tasha's 'unheard' words, and grins as she hikes herself up into the back of the van, "Blame it me," she suggests, "Easy enough."
Quinn jumps back down out of the back of the truck with a large bin and hand, and jsut that alone – she’s too clumsy to risk pulling multiple out at a time. In fact, as she hits the ground, she already stumbles a bit, the contents of the bin shifting along with her centre of gravity. “F-“ She starts to curse, but seeing the young child, she manages to hold her tongue, straightening as best as she can.
“Glad to hear it, Sable. And thanks a bunch.” Stepping back out past the truck, she grins as she hears Elaine and Ygraine conversing in French – she knows just enough to know that’s what it is, and that’s about it. Her attention is caught by Colette, however, and as the other girl pulls up on her bike, she props the bin on her knee, and removes a hand so she can wave. She awkwardly attempts to regrain it in her arms without dropping, but isn’t entirely successful , the side of the bin hitting with a thud and the clatter of plastic inside audible. Her head tilts as she hears Magne’s call out the Ygraine, looking back with a raised eyebrow. “Huh?”
Magnes has managed an impressive feat - distracting Ygraine from either a Francophone redhead with an accent that suggests they share a homeland or from the arrival of Miss Nichols would standardly take some effort. But the look fired at the young man as he not only blurts out her unregistered ability on a public street, but points at her to make sure that anyone watching gets the right person… not so much daggers as perhaps broadswords or claymores.
Then she closes her eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath, and refocuses upon Elaine, offering her a forced smile and resuming the flow of French. The very perceptive might notice that there's a marginal difference in vowel-sounds between her version of the language and Elaine's. "Sorry about that. And… yes. Some of the Arthurian authors seemed to call every female who wasn't Morgan or Guenevere either Isolde, Elaine, or a variant of the two. I always found them very hard to keep track of, I admit - but it's a lovely name. Were you named for Miss Paige, if it's not too rude to ask?"
While she talks, the Briton offers Colette a somewhat rueful wave - and a rather intently searching look.
"Oh, uh, sorry… they're all cool, it's fine!" Magnes tries to somehow reassure her that he didn't just do something completely horrible, but otherwise seems completely awkward now. "So… what should I carry?" he asks as he heads to the truck behind Sable now.
"Don't mind him, if he starts getting to mouthy I have ways to shut him up." Elaine grins at Ygraine. "There's a lot of them to keep track of, but I always found it fascinating. But no, I'm afraid I wasn't. I think my mother simply picked it out of a baby book." She proceeds to glance towards boxes as she moves a bit closer to the van. "Uh, sorry, I should be carrying something, shouldn't I? I got a bit distracted."
The fact that Ygraine is here has Colette doing quite a bit of a double-take, right up until she remembers that this is technically a safehouse and that she has ulterior motives for asking Quinn to move in to the building. Offering an askance look to the Brit, Colette's mismatched eyes instead settle on Magnes, followed by a hand covering her face and fingers pinching at the bridge of her nose before she looks over to the truck, then Quinn. "Hey I— I'm so sorry for… forgetting? I meant to have Andy and a couple other friends stop by. M'really sorry…"
Though from the looks of things, it seems like there's more than enough hands on deck as it is. "I'm gonna run in and put my bag upstairs. Then I'll be back out to help carry stuff up." Like a human whirlwind, Colette takes a few hopping steps backwards and spins around, darting for the concrete block stairs that ascend up to the front doors of the apartment building, pausing at the top step and turning around to wave Quinn in.
"Come on, I'll show you up. I'm so sorry about spacing out…" There's a look, past Quinn, towards the back of the truck where Tasha and Paul are, along with a lopsided smile that seems both apologetic and appreciative.
The two boys run down to the van to grab bins, grinning up at Sable. "What other words can you teach us?" Lance asks, and Paul shakes his head. "I bet we know all the good ones already. But I can start teaching them to you in Spanish, if you want. You know what pendejo means?" he asks the blue-eyed boy as they each grab a bin and make their way for the building again, just in time for Tasha to hold the door for them this time — rather than smack it into them. She is the grown up, after all. Nursing bruised and scraped knuckles by bringing them to her finger, passing Colette, she offers a hug and a kiss to the latecomer. "Tardy! You get three demerits," she teases, then runs down the steps to grab more boxes.
The bin is pulled back up into Quinn’s grasp proper, and she shakes her head at Colette. “Hey, no problem! I figure I can get Magnes the hard stuff.” She’s more than willing to volunteer, him, since she knows he can handle it. “I- Alright, everyone who has a box, come on.” She looks around with a withe a smile, motioning for everyone to follow her in turn. She hops into motion, bin held in front of her.
As the door is opened and Quinn steps through into the apartment building - as opposed to the others who've gone in and out - a shape abruptly descends from above, dropping rapidly down to head-level before it's abruptly jerked to a halt by a tangle of strings that lead upwards towards the second floor landing. It's all limbs of jointed wood painted in bright green and red, adorned with tiny golden bells and a sinister, many-toothed smile. After a slow twirling to untangle the strings, the harlequin marionette bounces a bit, arms raising to its sides as if to block the path, belled hat-tips jangling about as dark-painted eyes regard the newcomer, wooden hand shakily pointing at Quinn.
"Halt! Many places there are for you to fill, in this, the place they call Gun Hill! But before you come to live with me, must answer you these questions three!"
The high-pitched, squeaky voice comes from above, and a look up will notice Eric Doyle's maniacally-grinning face looking down from over the rail of the landing above. Given that's the 'superintendant' up there, this appears to be the new tenant interview process today. There's also a few smaller faces peering down around the stairs and railing, desperately trying not to giggle.
"What is your name?"
"I ain't givin' you th' words I know, runts," Sable shoots at Lance and Paul, "Y'd only hurt yerselves tryin' t' use 'em." She takes ahold of a box and lifts it up onto one shoulder. "All of it, boy," she says to Magnes, "Or as much 's y' c'n safely handle. Don't think anyone wants t' be haulin' all this through the goddamn heat longer than is strictly fffriggin' necessary."
Ygraine watches Colette lead Quinn away, her expression somewhat odd - pensive, among a variety of other things. As Elaine moves closer to the van, Ygraine stays where she is, taking another long, deep breath and gazing around, frowning up at the surrounding buildings before closing her eyes and pinching at the bridge of her nose… much as Miss Nichols did a short while ago.
The spirits of exasperation duly assuaged, she shakes her head and tries to decide whether to go towards the van (and Mr Varlane). Her mind is made up by the rather startling sight and sounds at the entrance. That has to be worth a closer look, so she bounds up the steps after the others, peering past them towards the dangling puppet.
“I-What the hell?” Quinn intones with a giggle, a very surprised look on her face – she’s never had a puppet swoop down at her like that before. She furrows her brow, balancing the bin against the door frame, a grin forming on her face. “Alright. I’ll play along. Robyn Janestine Quinn!” She snickers, and shakes her head. “What’s next?”
Magnes enters the truck, then starts pushing slowly floating boxes out. "I'm removing the gravity, so they'll be easier to carry. I set them for about thirty minutes." he informs, continuing to push boxes out until everyone has one, then comes out with around three of the heaviest boxes he can find stacked on top of each other with both hands.
Standing beside Quinn, all Colette can do is gape at what is transpiring in front of her eyes. There's a slack-jawed stare, brows creased together and a side step around Quinn as Colette watches the puppet with a combination of fascination and abject confusion. Covering her mouth with one hand, Colette stifles a laugh and chokes back a snort, looking up and over to Quinn with brows furrowed and face flushed read in amusement, embarrassment and apology.
Forgive Eric, her expression practically says with a slow raise of her brows, he is the king of eccentrics.
The harlequin puppet bounces on its strings, waving a hand in the air as the thrown voice from above squeals, "Robyyyyyyyyn Janestiiiiiiine Quinnnnn! Quinn? Ha ha! Your new name is 'Harley'! Hee hee!" One wooden foot lifts up to the other knee, jointed arms crossing over the puppet's chest as the head bobbles with a rattling of the attached bells.
The 'airplane' in Eric's hand is manipulated deftly and skillfully from above, the agility of a weaver or dancer in his hands despite his usual clumsy bulk. There's giggling from Hailey and Mala who are peering past him and down, unable to quite hide the youthful laughter.
"Why do you want to move here?"
Tasha is mostly to the curb when she too catches the squealing voice from the lobby and turns to see what she's missing, coming behind Lance, Paul and now Ygraine where they stand behind Quinn and Colette staring at the harlequin puppet. "This place," she breathes, with a shake of her head, "just gets weirder and weirder, I tell you."
She tilts her head up to grin at Doyle and the children. "You're gonna scare away our new tenants with this interview process. Can't she just get our FICA score checked like a normal person?" she quips.
Magnes is quickly rushing up to the door, peeking out from behind the boxes. "What? Harley Quinn? What's going on? Did someone just spoil the new Gotham Sirens?" He seems to be having trouble seeing in front of himself from behind the boxes.
With a newly not-heavy box in hand, Elaine is quite grateful for Magnes' power. She moves to carry it towards the complex, when she notices the side show act. And stops. And grins. What can she do otherwise? She looks to Magnes. "Don't worry, no spoilers."
“Harley?” Quinn repeats, with a raised eyebrow. She doesn’t quite hear Magnes’ full identification of the name. She wrinkles her nose, eyeing the puppet for a moment, letting her gaze filter up to it’s controller as she peers in. A sigh, and a laugh. “Because it’d be nice t’ live close to friends and bandmates. Not t’ mention people my age.” Which is the honest truth, really.
"Sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph…" Sable says, finding herself in a jumble of fellow box carriers, uniformly held up by a tiny inquisitor. She's having a hard time seeing over all the other people, let alone the boxes. "Fuckin'… Magnes, lighten me up some. I'm gonna try 'n' hop up t' my window, arright?" And, let's be honest, get a better view.
Momentarily lost, Ygraine gets the joke in time to groan all of her own accord, raising a hand to cover her eyes for a second. Very quickly, however, she re-emerges, not wanting to miss any more of the strangeness.
The dangling puppet raises one wooden hand to tap against its grinning mouth as if considering what to ask. Then, from above, the squeaky question begins, "And how are you going to pay ren— "
"Santa," Mala chides, putting her hands on her hips and giving Doyle a look that cuts off the question. Clearing his throat, Eric leans in to the two kids, stage-whispering, "What should I ask, then?" A whisper from Hailey, another giggle, and then he leans back.
"— I mean, who is the cutest of the Lighthouse Kids," demands the harlequin puppet hanging in the lobby.
Slinking around the dangling puppet, Colette looks up and over to Quinn, snortingo ut a laugh and backing up towards the door of Lynette's apartment. Unshouldering her courier bag, Colette settles it down on the tile floor before crouching down and then sitting cross-legged not far from the stairs, watching the show Doyle is putting on with both amusement and slight horror at how anyone who isn't used to him might react.
There's plenty of room, thanks to the spacious layout of the lobby, and as if not wanting to break her suspension of disbelief, Colette's eyes don't follow the nigh-invisible puppet strings up to the puppeteer commanding it. Instead, she's focused on the show and in a somewhat child-like way letting it soak in. There's very few opportunities to just let something like this happen, and somehow Eric Doyle has become the resident master of morale around these parts.
Tasha sets down her box in a corner of the lobby rather than holding onto it. "I'm so going to have nightmares. If that thing has a tricycle, I'm not living here," Tasha mutters to Sable, her eyes then seeking Colette, finding her sitting on the floor watching the sole-puppet show as entranced as if she were Mala's age. She smiles, watching Colette rather than the puppet, happy to see the other girl not worried for a few moments, as short as they may be.
Quinn cocks an eyebrow, tilting her head. “Lighthouse kids?” Quinn again repeats the words “spoken” by the puppet, blinking once. “Ah, well I imagine they’re all right cute.” She likes kids, and the ones she’s seen around Gun Hill have been rather fun, is highly mischievous. It’s a bit of a copout answer, but it’s the best one she can offer offhand.
Eyes narrowing, she reaches up and pokes the puppets head, bells ding-a-linging as she does. “How dreadfully curious,” she finally remarks, having recovered from the sudden wooden inquisition.
"They're all special in their own way!" Magnes answers the puppet, sitting the boxes in the air on top of each other so he can stare at it now. "Creepy."
There's a titter of small female child-laughter from above, and the harlequin puppet sweeps an elaborate bow. "You are — acceptable!" The wood-painted smile turns a bit towards Magnes, and then a hand lifts up beside that smile as if to 'conspire' as it leans in towards Quinn, "Keep an eye on that one, though. I think he's fancy."
Then the puppet starts getting reeled upwards, that squeaky voice called from Doyle, "Now back to heaven… eaven… ven… en… en…"
Behind Quinn, a snort of laughter escapes Ygraine - though it's hastily stifled. "I had no idea this place was quite so… idiosyncratic", she murmurs, voice pitched just loud enough to carry to the Irishwoman in front of her.
"The puppet don't know the half of it." Elaine murmurs, shaking her head a little as she watches the puppet disappear. "So I suppose we should get to moving stuff, shouldn't we? We're very distractible people, clearly."
"Fuckin'-A," Sable murmurs to Tasha in reply, "If it comes down t' it, you 'n' I c'n do a midnight raid on the little stringed fuckers, make this a safe place t' sleep in. I'm in if yer in, hon…" Sable takes a tighter grip on her box, and bends her legs before making a jump that she expects will take her to the ceiling, for a better look at the (really already concluded) proceedings… but no dice. She returns to the ground a split second later. A scowl is cast Magnes' way. "Way t' let me down, boy," she mutters, mutinously.
Outside the building, a car that likely does not fit in with this neighbourhood, is likely to be watched from afar by folks who might want to take a gander - and a five finger discount - to the rims of said card, pulls up. Sleek, silver the driver female and the whole package familiar to Tasha is she even looks.
Mommy dearest is making a stop, visiting her daughter, bearing presents in the back seat. But she has to get out of the front seat too, black suit on despite the warmth of the day, and fetches said bags, SAKS proudly written along the side of the carriers as she carefully makes her way towards the front doors and the lobby where others have gathered with sunglasses with the CC interlocking Logo perched above her head.
"I can't just throw you up into a window! You're not a ball, gravity is very unpredictable… unless you're using math." Magnes quickly answers after his scolding, then looks back to the puppet. "What? Fancy?" He looks to Quinn, then Elaine. "I think the puppet is calling me gay! Not that there's anything wrong with that… but I'm not!"
"Puppet slayers… not as cool as vampire slayers, but I'll take it…" Tasha answers Sable, then watches the girl try to leap and bound and … fail. "That was anticlimactic, whatever that was supposed to do," she says with a grin. "Magnes, grab this box too, and I'll go get more from the van," she says, kicking the box she stowed in the corner, and opening the lobby door …
… to see her mother coming up the steps. Her eyes widen, and she glances over her shoulder, hiding her face behind the door to whisper, "My mom's here, don't be weird." She gives a glance at Magnes as if to imply this especially means him. Fancy and all.
She opens the door wider. "Mom!" she calls loudly, in case anyone missed her whisper, and runs down the steps to greet Joanna, giving her a tight hug.
“Says the man who cooks and makes costumes,” Quinn retorts, habitually pointing a finger from her hip at Maagnes- and promptly dropping her bin on her foot. Her eyes squint closed and her mouth scrunches, trying not to let out another vulgar exclamation. After a moment, she exhales sharply, and hefts back up the box. “I better get this up to Sable’s before I break something.”
Here, take this to my apartment, okay? Careful, careful…" A murmured, whispered exchange above, and then two girls, one puppet, and a puppy go tramping off through the building.
Eric Doyle comes down the stairs, then, dressed in a button-up shirt of off-white cream and suspender pants, his beard trimmed but still quite present, expression seemingly serious as he pauses in faux-surprise, "Oh! Oh, hey everybody. Hey, has— " A look over his shoulder, then back, "— has anybody seen this little guy in green and blue, kind of a squeaky voice?"
The serious expression is held for a few beats, and then a grin slowly curves across his lips, and he lumbers along forward to reach out and take the box from Quinn, "I got it!"
Don't be weird? Holy shit, Tasha, too late for that one! Colette bolts up to her feet, leaving her courier bag behind before rushing off with clomping bootfalls, hurrying to make up the distance between the two before coming stumbling out onto the front steps, bumping into Tasha from behind before catching herself and skidding to a stop, bare arms windmilling.
"Hi miss Oli— Renard!" Colette's eyes are wide as saucers, face flushed red and a smile that can only imply misdeeds plastered crookedly across her face. To say that Colette has a pokerface is sort've like lying, so the girl's awkward scrubbing of one hand at the back of her neck presages an even more awkward arm slid around tasha then jerkingly taken back with twitching fingers, uncertain if this is the stage in your daughter is dating a girl where PDA is acceptable.
So instead, Colette folds her hands behind her head, grimacing awkwardly and rocking back and forth on booted feet.
Nothing strange going on here, no ma'am.
"If I didn't have proof for myself, I'd think you were, Magnes." Elaine chuckles. "However I'm quite glad you're not. I enjoy having you as a boyfriend, so I think I'll keep you." She teases before she moves to follow Quinn up towards the apartment with her own box. She'll ignore the whole mother thing. Probably the easiest way to deal with it.
A progenitor has arrived? Sable's head turns, followed by the rest of her, to search for the woman in question. But she's all the way out there, and being both unweird and carrying boxes up and down stairs sounds like waaay more effort that she's willing to exert right now. Giving a mild sniff, she squints at Magnes again, "I asked t' be lightened up, not t' be fuckin' tossed anywhere. You'd better 've hoped y' killed me if y' pulled a stunt like that." She turns back around and heads after Quinn, grinning at Doyle as she approaches him. "Yer a regular fuckin' performer, huh? Mebbe it's time t' bring puppets back? Nothin' like an art form that, like, delights and fuckin' terrifies young 'n' old, eh?"
Ygraine steps around Quinn and places a hand on the bin, offering her a wry smile - only to be pre-empted in an offer to take it from the woman before she finds a new location in which to drop it. Instead, she chuckles, nods politely to Doyle - whom she at least recognises from reputation and a recent Ferry meet - and finds herself hastily dodging an on-rushing Colette.
With people now going in all directions, she opts to slip out the front door of the building after Miss Nichols… but move around her and on down the steps to the pavement. Miss Oli-Renard gets a formal inclination of the head, and a "Good afternoon!" in the crisp tones of an educated Briton, while the biker chick moves on past to check inside the van for any stray items left abandoned.
"Natasha" Arms held aloft to receive the embrace from her daughter, press a kiss to her cheek before relinquishing her back to Colette's aborted embrace. "My court date got canceled, charges dropped, so I did some shopping got you some things for your place. Well, some bedding. THought I'd stop in and see if you or Colette needed anything for the apartment"
There is the slightest raise of eyebrows at not that attempt of PDA's in front of her, but then cancellation of said PDA. There's another woman with an accent and she can see others inside milling about. "Am I disrupting something? I can come back later. I should have called first."
No, no need to call," Tasha says, cheerfully enough. "Um, Quinn is just moving in and everyone's helping her, so it's kind of crazy but … let me take the bags and we can show you the apartment. As far as what we need… um…" she takes the bags from her mother and hands one to Colette. "We can probably scrape together some stuff from yard sales and all." She finds it difficult to ask for anything, but like she told Colette, once her mother sees the lawn furniture and feels the heat in the apartment, she'll probably come through like Santa Claus. "Come on up. Actually, I had some good news anyway, that I was going to call you with today, so great minds think alike, right?"
"Air conditioner, furniture," Colette begins just listing things off shamelessly on her fingers, "another bed, curtains, shower curtain, towels," there's a dubious squint at that one as she keeps lifting up fingers to count on. "I think that— covers… it?" Sheepishly grinning after the fact, Colette ducks her head down and offers an askance look to Tasha, then past her to Ygraine with dark brows creased into a furrow as if trying to figure out the Brit.
Grimacing slightly, Colette steps aside to give Joanna room to walk in to the lobby, then gives Ygraine another brow-furrowed look that wordlessly asks is something the matter? Searching eyes and all, Colette's nervousness is fleeting, more so directed to trying to impress Tasha's mom and— generally— coming off as weird because she's trying to hard.
"I used to own a theatre," Eric Doyle confides in Sable with a grin that only falters a little, "They burned it down, though." Who they is, well, that's left unsaid as he steps a bit to look out the door, craning his neck to see who it is that's just arrived and everyone's talking to.
She blinks at Doyle, shaking her head as he mentions the puppet, and then asks about the box. “Uh- If you want. I can grab something else off teh truck, I guess.” She hefts the box up, and hands it over with a smile. “Thank you much. And a fantastic show, if I can say. Quite amusing.” She gives a nod, hands retreating into her pockets, side stepping to let others past her, before following them back out.
The sight of Tasha’s mother and the small bustle that creates catches her attention, Quinn’s pace slowing dramatically as she comes close. She manages to pass by just at the right timing with her name, and she offers a nod and a smile. “Pleasure, m’am.” That’s a bit of a skip to her step as she passes, following after Ygraine to the van.
Magnes allows Doyle to take the box when he offers, which frees him up to offer a hand to Joanna with a smile. Don't be weird! That's easy enough. "Magnes J. Varlane! You know, you kind of remind me of Jennifer Walters, I mean, untransformed, like, her regular form, I think it's the hair."
A slight nod and a rueful little smile are provided to Colette by way of response, before Ygraine gently gestures her attention back to the Very Important Visitor.
Hopping up into the van, she is enjoying a moment of privacy when Quinn rounds the corner and discovers her. "…stupid did I have to be to think that nothing like this would happen?!? Moron! Idiot! Stupid, bloody…" The torrent of angry-sounding (though sotto voce) French is cut off when she becomes aware of a presence behind her, turning to blink nervously at Quinn. "Ahh. Hi", she says awkwardly, holding up a guitar-case as if in proof of there being a point to her being inside the vehicle.
Elaine groaned. It was bad enough carrying a box, but she had to deal with Magnes, who was a handful himself. She instead just makes her way to drop off the box before hurrying back down the stairs. She'll just choose to ignore Magnes' awkwardness for the moment. On her way down the stairs, however, she does lean in to murmur to Magnes. "I love you, but you're a dork." She then continues down the stairs.
Sable returns from a bound after bound up the stairs, and the dropping off of the box in her spartan room. The flow of luggage gives her no choice but to poke her dark head outside, and to finally lay eyes on the newcomer (now that Quinn has been eerily initiated). The poor woman is likely overwhelmed by introductions, so Sable tries to use the flurry of shaken hands (or whatever bourgie-types engage in when greeting one another) to sneak back to the van without drawing attention herself, which has got to be one of the few moments when that's her intention.
Only this just lands her next to the van where Quinn and Ygraine are. And Ygraine is yet another new face. But still, she has reinforcements here. "Uh…" She looks to Quinn. "Y'all know each other? I'm havin' trouble keepin' track."
“Quinn" The name rolls off her tongue, head turning even as she follows her daughter and daughter's girlfriend in, a bit taken aback by the skip before crossing the threshold proper while Colette lists off her requests for making her daughter's day to day life and furnishings easier.
"Done"
That's all. No arguing, no listing off in return what she wants, or what she's only willing to fork over for. "I'll give Tasha my card" She'll give her a credit card, carte blanche. Last time she did this, was when Tasha wanted to get a prom dress. But there are people coming, people going. Neighbours are helping neighbours instead of ripping them off or making off with their stuff and that is a bit alarming for the city attorney as she looks here, there, almost ready to clutch her expensive purse to her side.
Wait a moment, did that girl have yellow eyes. "I'd like to heeeeear.. your good news… Tasha.. is there… does she have liver issues?” Or worse. "Or hepatitis?"
Quinn slows again as she climbs into the van, a bit surprised as she hears Ygraine, an eyebrow arched as she slowly ventures a bit further into the van. Lugging up a soft guitar case – the shape, she thinks, means it’s her replica EB-0. The cases make it hard sometimes. “Somethin’… wrong?” Quinn asks with a frown, hoping she hasn’t done anything to upset the woman herself. She opens her mouth to speak again, but upon hearing Sable, she pivots back and nods.
At Colette's litany of household items, Tasha's eyes widen and she opens her mouth to protest, but… instead just flings her arms around her mother. "Give me a limit, and I swear I won't buy anything I don't need or at least really really really want specially," she says in the slightly childish voice that teen girls use to charm their parents.
"Contacts, I think," Tasha says, glancing back at the truck while navigating her mother toward the elevator. "I… got into Parsons…" she breathes out, unable to contain the news any longer. "I didn't tell you I was applying and it's kinda special circumstances, they interviewed me and looked at my portfolio after the deadline, the professor of my design 2 class really liked me and I guess called them to give me a recommendation, and… if you don't want to pay, I'll have to turn tricks or something, because I really really want it and will make it happen and I promise not to drop out this time but you won't have to pay for my apartment so even though the tuition's more it will be cheaper all together…"
"I… sort of. Well, yes. But it's not your fault", provides Ygraine with eloquent helpfulness (and an apologetic grimace) to Quinn, before nodding meekly at Sable. "I've… seen you around", she says, trying not to stare at the strange eyes, though she's wondering about how much coloured contact lenses cost these days. For her own part, her voice might well be familiar to someone who was at a recent (mostly) floating Ferry meeting.
In blissful ignorance of matters of lesbian love and heartbreak, Eric Doyle merely carries the bin up the stairs to the apartment where everything else is going to, humming a cheerful little tune under his breath. After a couple of minutes makes his triumphant reappearance, strolling out towards where everyone is clustered around an actual adult that isn't him.
Hey — lately that's been hard to find. Not that he minds. He gets along better with kids anyway.
"Hi!" As usual, there's is absolutely no sign of tact or an attempt to wait for a proper place in the conversation to barge in as he strides towards those around Joanna, "I'm Jason Tyminski, the temporary superintendant here… did I hear right, Tasha, this is, uh, this is your mom?"
Attention shifts flittingly back to Joanna, nodding her head in agreement to showing Joanna around the apartment. "I'm gonna' help Quinn unpack some stuff," Colette uses as an excuse as she flicks a look down the stairs to the back of the truck and Ygraine, then back to Tasha and Joanna. "But I'll be up after I'm helpful or hurt myself, whichever comes first." She's joking, but she's also not joking. It's complicated.
"Oh ah— Tasha. Room-mate," Colette notes pointedly with a lopsided smile. It might be hard to brace Joanna for meeting Tamara, but there's always hope. With that, Colette turns and hustles down the concrete steps to the sidewalk, then hops off the curb and lands behind the truck.
Peering up inside, there's a furrow of her brows as she looks from Quinn to Ygraine, then crosses her arms and shifts her weight to one foot. "You disappear overseas for like, ever, and you don't even give me a call when you're back in town?" It's a teasing chastisement that Colette offers, but not to Quinn or Sable but Ygraine. "I thought you might've just been in town for the… meeting, we had. I take it you didn't come back with Jenny?"
Tilting her chin up, confident that leaving Joanna and Tasha alone with Doyle was a wise idea — sure — Colette holds out her hands towards the back of the van. "Gimmie' somethin' t'carry."
"'Coz you're so good at keeping in touch. I get to hear rumours of dog-bites and the like third-hand, you know", Ygraine retorts to Colette, voice dry. She gets the guitar the Briton's holding thrust at her. "I came here looking for you, the day after I arrived back in the city. I think we've got a fair amount to talk about. But not now - you've clearly got a good bit on your plate."
“Ah, Colette…” Quinn remarks with a smile, falling quiet as Ygraine and Colette have their exchange. She wrinkles her nose, and as Ygraine holds out one guitar to the other photokinetic, Quinn holds out the bass in her hand. “Might as well fill both hands!” she quips with a nod. “Thanks for helping, Colette, but if you wanna go be with Tasha and… her mom, it’s cool.” Then, a glance over to Ygraine, and a quirk of her brow. “And you can… Well, if you’re not feelin’ up to it anymore, I don’t mind that either. There’s not much left anyway.”
“If you can put it on the card, it's yours. I was going to bring it to you anyways. I'll take care of the bills from it" It really was carte Blanche, but then, she also knew that her daughter wouldn't just willy nilly put stuff on it for the sake of spending. "Includes tuition"
There is a roommate? Not only that, there's the super and much like he is relieved that there is an adult adult, she's offering her hand out to him as well. "Mister Tyminski, Joanna Renard, a pleasure to meet you" Courtroom voice, public voice, smooth and polite but not condescendingly so. "I trust that if things need fixing, that they will be managed around here?" Fixing an eye on him even as it looks like they'll have to go up four floors, by foot, on a hot day, in stiletto's.
Christ. Kill her now. A glance to the departing Magnes, she's switching attention back to her daughter and the news about her Parson's admission. On praise whatever god everyone pretends to or actually prays to when they need to, her daughter is going to school. She and Vincent can commiserate over the bill at their next dinner.
"Winter came over t'visit and… didn't really wanna' leave. It's been kinda' busy, plus I dunno if my phone plan covers international calls." There's a wag of Colette's brows at that as she takes the guitar case, then squints slightly and tilts her head to the side. "I'm in apartment 404," Colette notes with a nod of her head over to the brick-faced tenement building. "Cell number's still the same as 'fore, I don't stay much with my Dad or Sister much anymore. Been livin' on my own since the storm hit, pretty much."
Shifting her weight ot one foot and shouldering the softer guitar case before taking the heavy and hard one by the handle and bracing it against her hip. "Been a lot goin' on, nnnot much I want to talk about on the street though, but yeah…" Furrowing her brows, Colette takes a step back and looks between Ygraine and Quinn. "You two know each other already, I take it?"
"Oh, there's a lot that needs fixing, but it's being fixed up," 'Jason' replies with that slightly too-wide smile of his, clasping the offered hand and pumping it twice before letting it go, turning back to look up to the building, "The kids've been a lot of help with all the work - there was damage from the snow and everything, you know, and even then it was a little old, but the place's shaping up just fine. Just great, really! And there's no, um, no crime around the building, so you don't need to worry about your daughter getting mugged at gunpoint and raped to death in the basement or anything!" He beams.
Quirking an eyebrow at Magnes and his departure, Elaine frowns a little bit. She glances at the stairs for a moment, then heads back out towards the van to see if there's anything there that she can help with.
"Thanks," Tasha breathes again, wrapping an arm around her mom's waist, giving a nod back to Colette at the word roommate, and then a little furrow of her brows wondering why the girl's running off. Her dark eyes dart back to Eric/Jason just in time to catch the words mugged and raped to death come out of his mouth. Her jaw drops and her face flushes. "Aaah, no, no it's safe, really, thanks for, you know, bringing up the M and R words, there, Mr. Tyminski, and putting my mom's worries to rest…"
She tugs Joanna's arm and heads upward. "He's really actually nice and handy and he just has absolutely no social … well, anything, please don't worry…" she murmurs as she tugs Joanna, glancing backwards. "We have a roommate and two dogs…" she begins, voice dropping to fill Joanna in on the special circumstances involving Tamara.
No time, no time! Sable dedicates herself single mindedly to just getting all this stuff on its way. She mutters excuse me's and make fuckin' way's, depending on whom it is she's speaking to, snaking up stairs and bearing boxes in numbers as great as her stature and limb length permit. When she gets up next to Ygraine she makes time at least to reply, her memory jogged, "Rememberin' now," she says, "Fuckin'… like… boatin' club." That'll do for euphemism. "I'm Sable, by the goddamn by."
"Yeah. We met on the roof a few days ago. Both of us looking for you", Ygraine says to Colette, though at least half her attention is on Quinn and Sable. The latter gets a nod, and a lopsided, wry smile. "Ygraine."
Looking back to Colette as she stoops down to grab another item at random, Ygraine chuckles softly. "I'll have to prison-tatto an email address onto you, or something."
Moving back towards the van, Elaine glances towards Quinn. "So is there anything left for me or were we terribly productive and get it all done while I wasn't paying attention?" She questions.
"Will she be mugged and raped on the second floor? I'll take comfort in that and knowing that whomever tries such a thing, will face a city prosecutor and her father" The smile on her face, combined with Tasha's gentle pointing out that he lacks social graces where others might have it in abundance means that it's a good natured comment back to the man. "A pleasure to meet you Mister Tyminski. I hope we meet again" With less M & R in the conversation. "Dogs?" Dogs. Joanna is not a dog fan. The perspiration on her forehead however, isn't at the mention of the dogs, but the heat.
Quinn follows suit – instead of standing around and staring as the pair converses she looks down,, and seeing one of the few boxes left, she plucks it up and into her arms. A grunt is let out, and a sigh. “Ah, yeah. I was coming to pass on the notice that I was going t’ take the room. Found Ygraine instead.”
Hearing Elaine, Quinn perks up, and offers a smile to the other girl. “There’s a few boxes left! And a guitar and keyboard lookin’ for some legs.”
"What?" Doyle's brow furrows a bit in confusion, "Of course now, I mean" A smile's still there, but it's uncertain now, one hand rubbing to the back of his head, " I mean, I meant she was safe here, is all." A bit of a lame finish as he's dismissed like that, and then eh exhales a sigh, turning to step along back into the building, "I'm uh, gonna go check on the kids."
"I'd probably lose the skin," Colette somewhat brusquely states with a grimace, looking to Sable and then towards the doors of the apartment complex at the top of the stairs. "C'mon, we can talk on the way…" stepping back away from the rear of the van in wait for Ygraine, Colette hefts the guitar case she's holding in her arms up again, trying to find the easiest way to carry it, figuring it out after a moment of creative juggling. "I moved in here 'round the beginning of the month, I think, with Tasha. Tamara just sort've… blended in with things after an accident she had."
Furrowing her brows, Colette offers an askance look into the rear of the van. "Were you here on the tenth?" It's something of a loaded question, it's hard not to realize what the significance of the date is, being that it's covered in all global news outlets non-stop since the event. But whether or not anyone saw anything, that's the important question, and also what Colette is indirectly asking.
Leading Joanna up the stairs, Tasha glances over her shoulder with a smirk at Doyle, letting him know she's not angry at him for his faux pas. "It's okay, Mom, we're on the fourth so I'll be safe, see?" she says cheerfully, rounding the landing to make her way up another flight. "One's a puppy. The other's ancient. Nothing to be afraid of."
Elaine moves to grab the keyboard, silently hefting it as she makes her way to the stairs to trek it up, taking care with the instrument. After all, Quinn was pretty into her music, so instruments were likely as precious as children to her.
Sable lingers in her room, where all this stuff has come to rest, and begins to push boxes against the walls, clearing space for anything else that may have to arrive. Suddenly her room looks less like a bare apartment that happens to have a mattress and box spring, and more like a storage space that happens to have a mattress and box spring. Quite the lifestyle upgrade.
"Missed all that", Ygraine says, peering down at her own randomly-grabbed box - which is clunking somewhat oddly as a result of her hop down from within the van. "Though I have the impression it's probably a good thing I did, given all the 'fun' people seem to have had with it."
Colette is given a rather penetrating look. "Quinn told me that you'd moved in with your girlfriend", she says softly - the words meant only for the Irishwoman and Colette. "I'm afraid that I said it was great to hear that you and Tamara had got together at last. I gather that the pretty little brunette's the actual partner in question."
Young, and old. That's doable. More than fine, Joanna lets herself be dragged up, waaaaaaaaay up the stairs. This. Is. Not. Acceptable. Four floors. "They had better fix that elevator by the next time I visit"
Grimacing slightly, Colette wobbles her head from side to side. "I don't think there's words enough in the whole, like, English language to properly explain my situation to you." Smiling nervously, one of Colette's eyebrows twitches up and down as she hefts the guitar case again as she ascends the concrete stairs towards the front door. "The storm was pretty bad, hit… hit a lot of us hard, you probably saw the pictures on the news, I mean. Phones and shit were down from… I wanna' say March right up until the end of last month. It was bad, I mean— bad enough that we had people go missing, people I knew. It… I'm just glad it's all over. Depending on who you talk to," Colette quietly offers, "you could probably hear different stories on what caused the storm. I— sort've know? Really I'm not even sure."
Using her shoulder to push the front door open, Colette stays there and braces it open for Ygraine. "Tamara's stayin' with us now, but like I said, it's a long story. I'm… actually pretty happy right now though, happier'n I've been in a long time. I gotta say I— didn't expect to see you at the uh— you know— in the subway."
Quinn doesn’t follow too far behind Colette and Ygraine, but she’s not paying entirely enough attention to rally hear their conversation. Bits and pieces of it get through to her, and she winces a bit when Ygraine mentions that she’d brought up Colette and Tasha, not sure if Colette would be too fond of her spreading her business about.
After a moment, she begins to whistle quietly, shifting the box in her hand. She catches the word “subway”, and quirks her lips. Having entirely missed the context, she simply shrugs form behind to the two and blurts something out. “Man, I think that place would have been feckin’ creepy if we hadn’t- brought enough light,” she comments warily, unsure of what Ygraine knows about Colette. A smile crosses her lips as she speeds her pace a little.
Having been about to reply to Colette, Ygraine finds herself looking back at Quinn - and then remembering to close her mouth. "I… in addition to tuition in optical physics, Colette's taking you spelunking?", she asks, clearly surprised. "I'd have thought that was very much my kind of activity rather than yours…."
Elaine's feeling a little awkward. People are talking about things and it's all flying a little too far over her head. She looks around a bit and sticks her hands in her pockets. "Um, I guess I'm gonna go back and read or something." She says to no one in particular.
"Conrad," Colette explains to Ygraine with every bit the amount of respect in her tone he desrrves, "took me to a subway platform out in Midtown when he first started tutoring me." There's a look over to Ygraine, nodding as if to imply yes, that is what I am teaching her. "I'm not much of a teacher, but Conrad was so awesome that he could teach someone even after he's gone, I just' gotta be medium for his learnin' skills."
Ascending the stairwell, Colette looks up and whistles on realizing how long of a haul they have ahead of them with this last load of QUinn's possessions. "We did the first round of study, I found out her limits, and… Quinn's got a lot've potential, I just hope I'm half as good a teacher as ol' Con was, 'cause he was one of the biggest influences on me." She needn't get into the other, no one really wants to hear her say nice things about Sylar.
"After I drop off this guitar stuff, I'm gonna' have to go and talk to Tasha's mom an' stuff, but if you wanna' catch up sometime. Ygraine, I think we're gonna' have prime opportunity to by the end of the week." Coming up to the second floor landing, Colette waits for the other two, head quirked to the side. "You said you used to work at Alley Cat, right? I'm gettin' a job down there, goin' in Thursday for an interview. Just found out today that they wanted me to go in an' see 'em. Our mutual friend Cat recommended the place to me." Mutual friend is a little sarcastically stated.
Quinn slows down a bit as she reaches Elaine, and playfully bumps into her. “Don’t run off, now. What’a’ya been up to today?” She lets Colette and Ygraine continue on, clearly the two have some catching up to, flashing Ygraine a we’ll catch up later smile. “Magnes been up to his usual tricks?” She drops away from the other two, box in hand as she stops to talk to Elaine.
"Merde." Ygraine jerks her head and attention around to Elaine, breaking into French again. "I'm so sorry. I got distracted. As you no doubt noticed. Do you live here? If so, I'll see you around here, I suspect", she says with a slightly weak smile. "I definitely want to take the chance to enjoy a bit of French, if you wouldn't object…."
An apologetic look to Elaine, then she refocuses upon Colette, listening quite intently - albeit with an occasional glance to Quinn. Perhaps fortunately, the Briton is entirely unaware of any connection between her friend and any notorious serial killers.
"I grab some work at Alley Cat whenever I'm in the city. I've got friends there, they do good work, and I helped set up a couple of their services, way back when. I wasn't aware of any ties between Cat and the place." Colette's tone earns her a distinctly curious look.
"Sorry, things were getting a bit crazy for my tastes," Elaine looks a bit sheepishly at Quinn as she's caught by her. "Yeah, the usual. Did you see where he got off to? I think he might have headed back to the apartment." At the French, her head perks up. "Ah, don't fret. I do live here, with Magnes. And I'd be happy to have the opportunity to partake.. there aren't really many I get to use it with."
Quinn starts walking again, motioning with her head for Elaine to follow her. “Come on, let’s take this up and make sure Sable hasn’t gone positively mad by the time we get up here.” She grin, and nods. “I think he went on up to you all’s place. I can’t say for sure. I was- a little distracted, I guess.” She begins forward again, her pace brisk.
Rounding up to the third floor, leaving Quinn and Elaine behind, Colette offers a look over her shoulder, lips crooked up into a lopsided smile as she stares up at the steps remaining to be travelled. "So, you ran into Quinn lookin' for me?" Colette snorts out a laugh, rounding the landing and coming up on the third floor. "A lot's happened since you've been gone, must be hard to keep up on things, but the storm kind've made it impossible for anyone to get word out of the city for a good long while. Even Wireless couldn't really help us…"
Not feeling the need to explain the sarcasm lingering on her reference to Cat, Colette circles up to the stairs headed to the fourth floor, not looking tired in the least. "A lot's happened, I mean… I lived at the Lighthouse as a caretaker for a while, got some of my friends involved with, uh, mutual business?" There's a look down to the lower landing where Quinn is, and Colette feels less uninclined to talk about Ferrymen business.
On her way past apartment 404, Colette nods her head to the door, but keeps going to the stairs that will finally take them up to the fifth and final floor before the roof. Thankfully, Quinn isn't living up on the half-finished garden up there. "I live in that apartment, if you ever wanna' stop by. Tamara's usually always around, Tasha and I're a bit more flighty. Courier work I do for the Ferry keeps me busy, goin' up and down and all around the city. I didn't even get home till eleven last night and I'd been goin' non-stop since seven in the mornin'."
Ahead of Quinn and Elaine, Colette stops at the open door to Quinn's apartment, turning around and offering a smile and a shake of her head, settling down the guitar case on the floor to lean beside the door. "There's more, but… not all at once. S'cool t'see you around again, 'Graine. You know how it goes though, especially with the work you'n I do…"
Mismatched eyes peer over Ygraine shoulder to the sound of Quinn and Elaine coming up the stairs.
"The more things change, the more they stay the same."
And then the guitar noisily falls over and hits the floor with a clunk.
Proving her point, she's still accident prone.