ArchivedLogs:Fashionable Lounging

Fashionable Lounging
Dramatis Personae Desi, Shane	2017-03-25 "Wow yeah chilling comfortably in your own room, how /dare/."
Location <NYC> Alice and Desi's Dorm - The Green House
The apartment is rather small, even by Manhattan standards, a common space with a single bath shared by two double-occupancy bedrooms. The furniture is sturdy but much-abused, though the current residents have done their best to inject some personality into the bland dorm-hall template. Posters -- featuring an even mix of films, bands, and plays -- paper the walls of the common room, and a bright crochet blanket consisting of palm-sized flowers covers most of the sofa's fraying upholstry. A length of green scrollwork brocade is draped over the coffee table. Soft round cusions in bright colors, each bearing a single white capital letter or arabic numeral, are arranged artfully on the sofa and each of the chairs. The two bedroom doors are labelled with large placards reading 'A.D.' and 'B.C.' in immense Papyrus letters above white boards ostensibly meant for leaving messages but perenially covered with doodles. The room labelled A.D. is somewhat less busily decorated than the common space, though no less colorfully. There are only a few posters here -- /Les Miserables/, /Oliver!/, and /Pippin/ -- the walls between them covered with dip-dyed and batiked tapestries featuring mythological creatures lurking amidst Celtic knotwork. One of the beds is somewhat neatly made with sheets featuring a medieval woodcut-inspired map of the sky complete with fancifully illustrated zodiac and a moon with a pensive face. The other bed is hardly ever made, its sheets covered with many-colored stripes of seemingly random width like a rainbow barcode. It's a nice, balmy Saturday night, and the village is just waking up to its nightlife. The Green House, like any college dorm hall, is practically deserted at a time like this, but Desi is still here. Though she has the whole suite to herself at the moment, she is sitting on her own bed with the door closed. Her makeup is impeccable--dark green eyeliner subtly winged and just a touch of sparkle in her smoky gray eyeshadow--but her hair is kind of a mess. She wears a long-sleeve purple raglan shirt with the Cheshire cat grinning broadly on the chest and pink-and-purple striped pajama pants. Her laptop is open on the desk nearby, playing The Vampire Diaries with the volume turned down low and the captions on. There's a knocking on the door to the dorm suite. Rap rap rap. Not actually any wait, though, before the door opens, footsteps traipsing across toward Desi's bedroom. Another knock. This time it's followed by Shane's voice. "Delivery!" Outside the small shark is leaning against the doorframe. His rose-lined grey vest and slightly rumpled dress shirt still smell heavily like coffee and he has a mesh shopping bag draped over one arm. His phone is in his other hand, though he's just slipping it back into the pocket of his slacks. "Come on in," Desi calls, though she's getting up anyway, not bothering to pause her show. She flips the switch on the bright red electric kettle on top of their minifridge. "Want some tea? Unless you have some in there already. {I apologize for my appearance. I really ought to just--clean this off.}" She turns around and scans the room, which is a bit less tidy than usual, discarded clothing draped over the back of the chair, makeup box open on the desk. "{I really ought to have cleaned all /this/ up. Sorry.}" "Wow yeah chilling comfortably in your own room, how /dare/. Better apologize." Shane sets his bag down beside Desi's laptop, flopping down on her bed after. "There's tea in the bag. And tacos. And some cookies. Is it a staying-in kind of Saturday night? When was the last time you had one of those?" His tone is casual, but his gaze is scrutinizing, brows pulled together as he peers at Desi. "{Oh, thank the gods.} Desi flicks the kettle off again and blows out a long breath. "{And you. I had a late lunch, but am probably overdue for dinner.}" She picks up the clothes and the makeup, but stops in the middle of putting them away. "I had meant to go out, but I just..." Here she shrugs, sliding her makeup case onto a shelf and folding up the clothes before hopping up to sit beside Shane on the bed. "I guess you haven't heard. Matt got his results back." "Well, your makeup looks /fantastic/ so we're going to have a hella fashionable lounging-in-bed night." Shane slides off the mattress long enough to snag the bag of food, returning to settle down on the bed. His eyes widen, gills fluttering as his fingers tighten around the straps of the grocery bag. "{Oh, fuck.}" For a few beats he is quiet. He takes a thermos out of the bag first and hands it to Desi before asking, "how bad is it?" "Merci, but if /you're/ involved with the lounging, it can hardly help being fashionable, regardless of my makeup." Desi accepts the thermos and drinks from it--first a tentative sip and then a long gulp--before handing it back to Shane. "{It's not /good./}" Her slender shoulder hunch under the ancient fabric of her sweatshirt. "He's been worse before, but that isn't terribly reassuring." Shane's claws click against the thermos as he takes it from Desi. "I --" He falls quiet. Takes a quick swallow of tea. "Right. Definitely a staying-in kind of Saturday night." His eyes slide back to the laptop screen, fixing on the show without registering any interest. "If there's things y'all need, we'll --" He offers the tea back out. "At the very least y'all can hopefully have a better support network this shitty-ass time around." Desi accepts the tea again, though she does not drink from it at once this time. Just stares at it kind of blankly. Her "I appreciate it" sounds kind of automatic, kind of perfunctory. "{We're managing, for the moment.}" Though some animation returns to her a beat later, her expression lapsing into something like a smile. "Eventually, I'll have to take up some of the slack twisting Luci's arm into accepting help from /anyone./" But her eyes gone have wide and glassy, her breath coming quick. "Désolé," she whispers, and gulps down more tea, as though doing so would help hold back the tears that haven't quite spilled over. "We can--watch a better show, no? Or--something." "Psh I've had years of experience being Pa's kid I'm sure between us we can just /sneak/ the help in before anyone gets a chance to object." Shane pulls a foil-wrapped taco out of the bag, handing it over to Desi with a casual lean of his shoulder against hers. "This show is honestly a travesty. My other bottle has booze we are /so/ set for however many episodes of it you can gorge on." Desi's shoulder trembles at even the light touch. She takes the taco and only begins to unwrap it before faltering. Silent tears spill over. She curls an arm around Shane and huddles against him, sobbing quietly. It does not last very long before she masters herself, dabbing delicately at her eyes with a tissue (her eyeshadow has somehow survived this ordeal with only minimal smudging). "{I'd like that. Please. But be warned--I've watched so many episodes already--stone cold sober.}" Shane wraps his arm back around Desi, holding her close through the sobs. His chin presses against the top of her hair, hand squeezing lightly at her shoulder. When he lets go, his brows have raised. He snags a taco of his own, looking at Desi a long while before back to the screen. "{Well,}" he allows, "{you are a way stronger person than I.}"