ArchivedLogs:A Cot and a Hot

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A Cot and a Hot
Dramatis Personae

Doug, Shelby


Shelby stops by to catch up with Doug re: Seance Apologies.


<NYC> 503 {Doug} - Village Lofts - East Village

Supposedly this is a controlled entrance building, so it's reasonable to assume that the BANG BANG BANG on the front door comes from a resident. Two seconds pass and then BANG BANG BANG again. Shelby is cold and therefore lacks the patience needed for polite knocking, although after the second round, she does wince and shake her hand--fishy-white knuckles sting from all of that pounding.

"Holy geez, hang on!" The voice behind the door is frustrated, and there's a muffled thumping from within that lasts a good thirty seconds before Doug swings the door open. The blonde is dressed in soccer shorts and a pair of glasses, and nothing else. Probably due to the wave of heat that wafts out the door when he swings it open. "It's about fucking ti -- Shelby." He blinks at the girl on his doorstep, and steps to the side, tilting his head towards the apartment interior before he starts walking away. "I thought it was the building super," he says. "The heat in our apartment is being weird."

Shelby slits her eyes against the heat ripples--it's enough to make them water. "Whoah," she says in lieu of greeting. "Fuck, dude, that's /nice/. Why you wanna get it /fixed/? Maybe you didn't notice but it's witch's titty cold out there." Having described the world she's coming from, the teenager strolls on in and immediately begins shedding her clothes. This could take a few minutes. "Oh man. Oh man...I think I can feel my feet again. Ohhhh, yeah, that's the stuff, mmm!" Here's hoping she isn't broadcasting those noises on a mental level too, they sound all /sorts/ of inappropriate.

"Well, I'm glad you like it," Doug says with a grin. "I've been uncomfortable since I got home this afternoon and found the cats pressed up against the cold window." He motions to the calico and black lumps that are lounging in the small window by the fire escape. "You want some water, or soda or something? Jackson brought me some cupcakes yesterday. Raspberry shortcake with chocolate ganache." The teen moves into the kitchen, opening the fridge and leaning into it with a noise (and probably mental thought) much like Shelby's. "What brings you by?" He asks, holding up a bottle of water and a bottle of orange soda and bobbling each inquisitively as he quirks a grin. "If you're looking for a spa day, all we can offer today is a sauna treatment."

"Kittens!" Shelby's efforts at stripping down to a grey tank top and shorts are double-timed so she can go coo at the babies. When her jeans hit the floor, they do so with the heavy metallic thump of change. Chin scritches for everyone! She'll count her booty later. "I could totally go for cupcakes and soda, haven't eaten yet...hello babies, who's the sweetest kitty kitties?" Teenage girls are a little disgusting. Fortunately, the promise of chocolate whatsit soon has her tagging after Doug into the kitchen. "What's a ganache? I mean, I'll eat it anyway, but it sounds like an enema brand or something." Charming. She reaches for the orange bottle. "Since you got cupcakes, I guess the boys've already been up to say sorry, huh? I wanted to make sure, that shit they pulled...hilarious but man..."

Doug nods, and puts the water back in the fridge, and pulls out a tray with eight cupcakes and crumbs on it. "I think ganache is a fancy way of saying chocolate frosting," he says with a grin. "Only, it's less frosting-y." The kittens stretch under loving ministrations, extending paw and tiny claws to bat first at each other, then at Shelby in sleepy greeting. The calico mews at the girl, almost rolling off the window sill in her attempt to get a better look. Doug grins, and shakes his head. "Alt is the clumsy one," he says. "Delete is the one who's pretending he's going back to sleep." The blonde nods as he grabs some paper towels and a bottle opener and places them on the counter. "Yeah, they came by and made the big confession," he admits with a chuckle. "In hindsight, it was a good prank, although I don't think Anwyn would agree with that. She's pretty freaked out, still."

"If Alt goes missing, it totally wasn't me and you shouldn't worry about her, huh?" Shelby tells him as she swipes up the opener and gets to opening. "And I didn't know what they were gonna do, man. If I did, and if I'd known it was you, and if I'd known Ian was fucking /terrifying/..." She trails off there, because it's a truth that she might still have spectated. Better to just pop the bottle open and set the opener back on the counter. "But s'cool they brought you sorry cupcakes, especially since I get one too," she goes on cheerfully, reaching for one of the treats. "You seem like you're pretty all right with it all. You think Anwyn's still gonna wanna do my hair if I was watching the whole time? Be honest, 'cause I'll lie if I have to."

Doug laughs, and points a finger at Shelby in mock warning. "Hey, if you take my cat and make me go and yell at Shane about inappropriate snacking, I'll..." he wrinkles his nose. "I'll make your phone unable to play anything but 'Gangnam Style' as a ringtone." He grins, and moves back to the fridge, pulling it open to grab a bottle for himself. "Ian's a scary motherfucker," he says with a shrug. "But he seemed nice, until the /actual/ ghost threw a glass at him." He motions to the far wall before snagging up the opener. "Then he scattered. Like, literally." He shrugs. "Look, I get hazing. I go to college, and there are football players in every high school, right? So, I just look at it as hazing the new kids." He frowns as he pops the cap off the bottle. "You were watching?"

Shelby somehow manages to hold onto her cupcake as she crosses her fingers at him to ward off the threat. "Anything but that!" she trills through a mouthful of delicious crumbs. Then it's hardcore consumption time, the cupcake seeming to disappear and enough orange soda chugged that she has to press a fist to her mouth to prevent the most inelegant of belches from escaping. It makes her eyes water, much as the heat had, and leaves her blinking at him. "Wait...real ghost? Like...for real something threw a glass at him?" It could be due to the frown but somehow she avoids answering the question about having watched the festivities.

Doug watches Shelby eat with something akin to awe in his expression, and he grins when she tries to suppress the belch. "Yeah, apparently, there's a real haunting going on here. Messages in the mirror, shit going missing...and then the glass thing, which was new." He lifts a shoulder. "It hasn't done any more throwing things since then, but it's still letting me know it's here." He wrinkles his nose. "It was thumping in my closet, last night. It's freaky." He leans against the counter, tilting the soda to his lips and taking a long draught that ends in a belch he does NOT suppress. "Hive and Jax and I are going to do some sleuthing, and see if we can't figure out who it might be." He reaches over, then to pinch at Shelby's hair teasingly. "We're going to dress as the Ghostbusters and everything. You can be our Janine."

"Fuck, really?" Suddenly that cupcake is not resting so easily in Shelby's stomach. She looks around--then burps again, and this time isn't quick enough to cover it. "Oh man, I'd so /ruin/ any ghost movie I was in, could you imagine? Damn," she says, unable to resist giggling. "Da da daaaaaah...braarp!" That was just a sound effect, thankfully. But it does lessen some of the tension she's feeling, and leave her relaxed enough to hop up onto the counter to sit. Her feet swing, heels thumping the cabinets. "Wait, wait, hold up," she says, absently brushing at the pinching hand, "you guys're gonna wear the costumes? That's hot."

"Nah. Ghosts love mystery sounds," Doug laughs, and takes another, smaller pull at his bottle. "Although, it would be more Scary Movie than The Grudge." He wrinkles his nose at the brush-off, or maybe it's the sentiment. "I don't know about /hot/," he says, shaking his head. "I mean, they are jumpsuits, after all. Not exactly flattering everyday wear, y'know?" He grins, and ducks his head. "But it'll be fun. Hopefully. And maybe we can get it sorted so that Anwyn will come back home. It's weird quiet around here." He straightens, then, as if remembering something. "Oh! I saw your doctor friend, finally, and got my results." There's an amused, questioning look turned on the girl, and Doug tilts his head. "He seemed nice, but I'm not sure why you might have tried to set us up." He wrinkles his nose. "He's hot, but he's a little old, isn't he?"

"I bet someone somewhere gets off on it. I wanna be Dana though so I can go all ooooh at the Keymaster. Janine had the annoying voice, didn't she?" Shelby grins and reaches out to reciprocate the hair mussing with a tweak of her own. "Sounds like maybe you could use an exorcism more than a seance though. I know Jax can do the beams thing for y'all but seriously...sprinkle a little holy water around the place and poof, it's a gone ghost." Her eyebrows creep up when Iolaus is mentioned, interest shown both for mention of the doctor and for these results. "So...? Are you a freak or just a geek? And what's wrong with old? He's nice, you're nice, he works too much, you could help him not work too much..."

"No more seances," Doug says, holding up a finger. "One with fake ghostery was enough, thanks. We're totally doing the exorcism thing." He grins, and ducks away from the hair tweak and pokes a finger at the girl's side. "And you would totally rock the Gatekeeper outfit." He grins, and holds up a hand for maybe a fist bump, only the fist falters into a fluttering of fingers. "I don't know the secret handshake, yet, but I am officially a geek in the Freak column. Big old positive on the sheet." He makes a face at the protest, though, and lifts a shoulder. "I don't know...we're at different points in our life. He's a doctor, and I'm just a freshman in college. Aside from the fact that he's nearly twice my age, I don't know that we're wanting the same things out of a..." he inhales deeply. "...relationship. It's nothing against /him/," he adds quickly. "Like I said, he seemed pretty nice. I just don't think it's going to happen."

Orange soda sloshes in the bottle as Shelby squeaks and bendjerktwists to avoid the poke. "Hey!" But she recovers quickly enough, grin resurfacing and fingers all a-wiggle to meet the fluttery secret handshake. "Ha, I knew it! I knew it! Damn, I oughta start charging for being right, I'd be a fucking /millionaire/. Welcome to the club, man. Keep your emergency bag packed at all times." She meant that as a joke, really she did, but there's a note lurking underneath that makes it a valid warning. " and the Doc talked about all that? Seriously? What you want in a /relationship/?" Her eyebrows go all cattywumpus at him. "Are you sure you're not old?"

"I don't think you'd want to work for the kind of people who'd pay for that service, ultimately," Doug says in a dark voice that suggests he's probably already /got/ an emergency bolt bag packed somewhere. The question gets a snort before Doug actually laughs out loud, clapping a hand to his midsection. "Oh, yeah," he says, shaking his head. "Right after he told me that some medications might react with the genome, and that hate groups lurk everywhere...that's when we had a long walk in the park and shared a moccachino and talked about our feelings and shit." There's another playful poke, more determined to find its mark. "No, you dink. My ability is understanding language, remember? That includes body language." He lifts a hand, and wobbles it. "From what I could make out, the Doc wasn't biting."

"Really?" Shelby, sucker that she is, begins to brighten at this description of parks and caffeine beverages and feelings. That glimpse of sunshine is then cruelly eradicated by more poking, which she tries to fend off with an elbow and more squeaking. Shatter his eardrums and maybe he'll knock it off! "Don't make me draw a penis on your face," she threatens, eyes locked on his hands--she may not be a genetic master of reading body language but she can watch for the next attack. "Kinda sucks he wasn't into it. I mean, into you. You're hot by guy standards, right?"

"Ugh. Really? A penis? That's so immature." Doug sticks his tongue out as he pulls his hand back. "Surely you could do better than that. At least make it words in mirror image, so that I have to read them every time I look in the mirror." He grins, and slaps a hand over his forehead. "Actually, don't do that. I call truce." The question catches him off-guard, and he blushes, ducking his head. "Oh! Um. I don't know? says I'm pretty, but I've always kind of felt too geeky to be hot." He shrugs, and points at his glasses. "Unless nerd chic is back in. Then maybe." His grin goes lopsided, and he leans against the counter, sitting on his hands in honor of the truce. "Is..." he frowns, and chews the inside of his cheek. "How long have you known Jax and everyone?"

Oho ho ho! Shelby is happy to accept the truce. She's also grinning at him in a way that suggests mischief, as well as exposing the gap between her front teeth. "Geeky is kinda the new hot right now, isn't it? So Jax said you're pretty, huh?" Thump thump thump, the girl returns to swinging her feet and smacking up against the cabinets. There is a thoughtful glint in her eyes as she lifts the soda for another sip. "Hmmm," she temporizes. "You mean Jax or you mean everyone? I guess it's been a couple of months now? He's nice, huh? Kinda hot too, he's got good hands." She flourishes her own free hand in demonstration. "And a /total/ badass even if he doesn't look it."

Doug blushes. "Well, he said that the people who'd lived here before me were megapretty, and that I was keeping up the tradition," he confesses. "Which was really nice of him to say." He grins softly, and raises his bottle to his lips with a thoughtful expression. "He's cute," he agrees when he lowers the bottle. "Even without the light show. I wouldn't know about his hands, though." His blush spreads down his neck and into his upper chest. "I assume that you mean his, uh, ability as an artist?" His expression turns sharply curious, and he tilts his head at the girl. "Bad ass how?"

"Oh sure. 'Cause he's an artist." Butter would not melt in Shelby's mouth, though she's only able to keep up the innocent facade by looking off towards the living room. La la la! She begins the tale, complete with dramatic pauses and tone modulation for best effect. "So like, you maybe noticed he's all about taking care of folks, huh? He's /out there/ for anyone who needs help. But like, his kids are super extra special important, and they've been through some serious shit. So this dude starts sniffing around Shane. Trying to fuck him and stuff. So Jax..." She stops for a moment for another sip of soda. "Jax used the light shit he does? To cut off the dude's balls. Bam, just like that." The girl seems to find this worthy of admiration, another feather in Jax's cap of hotness.

Doug narrows his eyes at Shelby's act, but lets it go, shaking his head as he sips at his soda. "Whoa." That's the best immediate response he has for the revelation of Jackson's viciousness. "That is pretty hardcore." He also sounds like he admires this. "Remind me to stay on his sunny side." Snagging up a cupcake, he licks at the ganache on top. "That's really cool, though. That he watches out for them like that." He bites into the cupcake, then, and continues talking as he chews. "I thought this building was weird, but the more I get to know people, I'm realizing that this building is just full of cool people. Maybe it draws them here."

"Tell me about it. Bastian just asked me out, so I'm all...oh god, what if. Good thing I don't have balls, huh?" Not that she seems especially worried about alienating Jax to that point. But Shelby is nothing if not an optimist. She tips the bottle of soda up to drain the last of it--and burps on cue afterwards--before diving back into the conversation. "It is pretty cool here. I mean, except for the ghost. I'm kinda digging on it making this place into a sauna though. Thanks, ghost!" After she sets the bottle down on the counter, she gives the unseen presence two thumbs up. "Hey, speaking of being here, you mind if I crash here tonight? It's getting kinda late, y'know? I could take the subway back to the Doc's, but..." Sea-green eyes go all big and pathetic at him.

Doug laughs. "I think there's a difference between what that guy might have been trying to do with Shane and two kids going to the movies or whatever," he says sagely. "And Jackson seems pretty level-headed, honestly. So if he did that, it must have been /really/ bad. And you don't seem all /that/ bad." He sticks out his tongue and plucks up the empty bottle, tossing it in the garbage can. "The matter of the heat is actually debatable as supernatural activity," he says. "But so far, the ghost has proven to be mildly distracting, at best. At least to non-fake-ghosty shadows." The cupcakes are also retrieved and returned to the fridge. "Sure, you can stay here," he says, bobbing his head and grinning. "I'd be glad for the place to seem normal for a night. You can sleep in Anwyn's room, if you want. Or the couch isn't completely useless for catching some zees."

"Hell, I can be bad! But if you want normal for a night, I can fake that too," Shelby chirps, hopping down off of the counter and padding back into the living room. She waits until his back is turned before sticking her own tongue out at him--it's always best to hide the sassy when one's host can still boot you out. "Couch is fine, dude, I don't wanna crash in her bed without her say so. Not until she cuts my hair anyway. If things get creepy in here though, I'm /totally/ crawling in with you so put some boxers on for bed, huh? Or it could get awkwaaaard." Apparently the faking normal is going to happen at some unnamed point in the future. First she's going to go scoop up Alt and carry the kitten over to the fallen jeans to help count her panhandling haul.

"Normal is better," Doug says as he moves back into Anwyn's room, marked by a big wooden A on the door. "i've had enough bad lately." He emerges with a couple of pillows and a sheet. "It's too hot for a blanket," he says with an apologetic shrug. "But if the heat changes in the middle of the night, you can snag the comforter off Ahn's bed. She won't mind." He tosses the bedclothing on the couch, just over Shelby's head on its trajectory. "If you /have/ to climb in bed with me, all I ask is that you shake me awake so I don't freak out in the morning.” He pads over to the door, shooting the deadbolts and hooking the chain in place. "If you need a shower, clean towels are under the sink," he says as he moves towards his bedroom. "And help yourself to anything in the fridge except the stuff that looks like guacamole, because I really don't think it is, and I'm afraid to throw it into the ecosystem." He pauses at the door to his room, and tilts his head. "I'm going to do a bit of studying before I go to bed," he says. "If you need anything, just yell." Then he's disappearing into his room, where he'll likely spend most of his time clacking on the keys, and occasionally checking on Shelby. Or maybe he's making sure he still has all his stuff. Because while it's nice to be a good host, it's a pain in the ass to replace an iPad.