Logs:Build Something

Build Something
Dramatis Personae DJ, Lily	2021-11-11 "Basics would be good."
Location <NYC> Chimaera Arts - Dumbo
This is just one of the many abandoned warehouses in DUMBO, and like many of them it has recently changed hands. Unlike most of those, however, it does not have some corporate developer's sign out front promising a transformation into luxury condominiums or a boutique shopping center or the latest concept restaurant. Instead it's marked by a piece of weathered but wildly colorful plywood propped up on a stack of broken pallets, which reads "Chimaera Art Space!" above "chimaera.org" in smaller letters. The warehouse is moderately large and decorated with graffiti art in various styles--some of it recognizable as the work of renowned local street artists. A pair of monstrous scrap metal sculptures, perhaps still works in progress, flank the entrance. The building itself has undergone significant renovation recently, complete with wiring, plumbing, and a modular partitioning system. The grounds, too, have been cleaned up, ramshackle fences torn down and rusting detritus removed in favor of reclaimed (and brilliantly repainted) outdoor furniture ringing an impressively engineered firepit. It’s late on this Thursday evening — well past dinnertime, not as late as to be completely empty, but nearly so. All programming (limited as it is for Veterans Day) has just about wrapped, and only a few lingering souls still remain — a cluster of Columbia students, walking away with new signs for the picket line; a few loners, putting the last of their supplies away for the evening. Almost everyone is gearing up to leave. Except Lily. She’s fresh from the subway, shrugging out of her hunter green raincoat en route to the woodshop. She’s in a grey UPenn hoodie with the crest emblazoned on the front, black barrel cut jeans, and scuffed up chelsea boots. Lily glances down at her phone, the text message exchange there — (Lily —> DJ): Does that offer to finish up the carpentry still stand? — then back up at the woodshop. She hesitates a moment at the threshold before stepping in, setting her jacket atop an empty workbench. Lily's text message sits quiet and unanswered on the screen. No ping, no '...' to suggest any thought of reply. -- but, not long after she arrives there's a flicker in the doorway of the woodshop, a faint blur of motion that solidifies itself into DJ, jeans and grey tee and a green-black-and-grey checked workshirt over top, jacket slung over his arm as he looks over the room. "I'm still not a member here or -- anything," he says, a little self-consciously. "I think technically I'm supposed to sign up to -- rent this equipment but nobody's made me do it yet." Lily is only a little bit startled by DJ's sudden appearance, her expression showing surprise and relief in quick succession before settling into an awkward smile. "I didn't get my membership for a while, either -- I don't think anybody really minds." Her phone gets tucked away into a pocket, her hair quickly pulled back into low ponytail. "I was trying for a little bit last year to finish some of these, but it's been a really long time since I've done any woodwork, and --" Her eyes tack over to the scrap wood bin. "Well. I made a mess of it." "I never got out of the practice, but --" DJ's left shoulder hitches, small, setting the empty sleeve slightly to swaying. "It's been slow going, this year. Trying to get used to -- this." His smile is small. Wry. "Having an extra set of hands was always nice. At home I was used to --" He gives his head a small shake, his cheeks flushing. "It'll be good having someone to work with again, I think." Lily nods along, a faint flush of embarrassment creeping into her cheeks. "Right, of course -- guess you didn't touch base with B." Her hands tuck into her jean pockets, gaze dropping quickly to the empty sleeve before up to DJ. "I think I've been waiting for someone to work with? I really did want to start again, but it had been something he and I did together and --" Now she stops, bites her lip. "It was hard to be alone and try again, is all." "I did, but -- there's so much physical therapy to go through before she can -- and I haven't been good at keeping up with --" DJ's blush is deepening. "Just a lot of things I've let slip through the cracks here." He's moving further into the room, setting his jacket over the back of a chair. His shoulders have gotten a little tighter as Lily speaks, a small frown furrowing his brows. "I'm not him," tumbles out in a rush; he bows his head, adding quiet and awkward, "I'm -- not sure what I am but I just -- I can't -- be. Him." Lily follows DJ's path through the room until DJ's declaration. She stops, crosses her arms across her chest. "I'm sorry. I know. I don't -- I didn't mean --" Lily sucks in a breath, leans against the back of a table. "We hadn't talked since we were fourteen. Everything I know about him, I learned last fall. I, just -- I promise I'm not expecting you to be him. Because I never knew the man everyone else is missing." Her gaze has dropped to DJ's shoes as she speaks, shoulders curling in. "I'm sorry." DJ's posture doesn't relax, his shoulders still tight and his eyes skipping over the tools, the wood, the unfinished furniture. "I shouldn't have assumed that you -- I've just been getting a lot of..." He lifts his hand, fingers running through his hair. "Fourteen was a long time ago," he tries instead, after a steadying breath. This time he manages a smile -- a little crooked, a little sad. "Do we need to start with basics?" "I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have mentioned it." Lily's fingers push against her upper arms, turning white at the fingertips from the pressure. "Getting a lot of?" She echoes the sentence as a question, eyes darting back up. "Assumptions? People dancing around you like you might break? People offended that you're even here?" It comes out in a soft rush -- Lily bites her lip. "Basics would be good." "All the above," DJ admits, words coming on the edge of a tired breath of laughter. "At first I just tried to let it roll off me but I'm -- I'm trying, now. To actually -- live here, I think." His brows furrow, slowly. "In this world. I'm still figuring out what that means but I think it starts with building my own relationships and not just haunting his." He picks up a pair of safety glasses from their pegs on the wall, putting one on; the other blinks away to settle with a small plastic clatter onto the workbench just in front of Lily. "You know. The basics." "Yeah, that's all -- pretty familiar. All of the above, and the haunting." Lily picks up the safety glasses, rubbing the lenses clean with the hem of her shirt. "You aren't haunting me, if that helps. I know I didn't -- make a great first impression." She cringes a little when she puts the glasses on. A brief hesitation -- "I didn't -- am I haunting you?" DJ turns aside as he considers this, using the time to look over the selection of tools. At length he shakes his head, slow but firm. "My sister never died. It's different, I think. For me. I lost my world, but I didn't -- I left them. They're still -- there." His lips compress, thin. "As far as I know." He hesitates, then looks back to Lily. "-- Why did you stay? In New York?" “I’m glad. Not that —” Lily hastens to correct, “That you left them, but that — your sister didn’t die. That your family is alive.” A little more awkwardly: "I'm sure God is watching over them." “Why did I —" Lily’s eyes widen at the question. “I — you know, I don’t know think anyone’s asked that.” She picks up some work gloves, slips them on. “At first it was just — grief, and wanting to find out anything I could about him like that would fix missing him for over a decade, and then our folks made such a stink about the funeral and I wanted to fix that, and then there were the protests and the medicking and I wanted to fix people, and then I found out about Prometheus and I wanted to fix that —“ Now it’s her turn to shake her head. “And then it was now, and I’ve been out of school for a year and I can’t imagine going back, or going home either.” Her shoulders sag just a touch. “None of that is really a ‘why’, though. Just doesn’t feel right to leave, yet.” "I think most people from New York just assume everyone wants to move here by default," DJ replies wryly, "why would they need to ask? You came from Salt Lake, that's practically the boonies." He sucks his cheeks inward, chewing slowly on their insides. "This -- sounds familiar. I mean, not -- the specifics, not -- all those individual reasons, just. Feels like there was a lot of things holding on to you but not a lot in there that's yours. It's been about a year, hasn't it? Maybe a good time to start building your life, too. Whatever shape that looks like." Lily chuckles — “Philly must seem like a hamlet to these city-slickers.” The half-smile creeping over her face fades. “And a year for you, too, almost?” Her fingers wiggle in the gloves, just slightly, as her gaze drops to the tools. “I think you probably have more experience in building lives than me. I’m not sure where to start.” A small pause. “Maybe a permanent address.” "A year. Golly. Yeah. Just about." DJ's face falls, but only for a moment. He straightens, nodding, and starts to move the tools to Lily's workbench. "-- something I probably should be thinking about, too. A house sure doesn't make a home, but it does help make a start." Lily lifts up a chisel, holding it with caution out in front of her. “Homes should have family in it,” she says quietly. “Husbands, wives, extradimensional sibl—cousins, if you’ll have them.” A little breath of a pause, then she asks: “This is extremely silly to ask, but — were you older? Over there, did your sister come out second?” There’s a faint flush in her cheeks after asking. DJ's eyes lower at the mention of husbands and wives, a darker shadow crossing his expression, but the question pushes it away. There's something warmer there now, a laugh startled out of him. His head shakes, hand lifting to rub against his neatly-trimmed beard. "Lily's older," he answers, adding, fond and only a little exasperated, "She never let me forget those eleven minutes. You'd think after a few decades it kind of averages out. Were you --?" His brows lift, curious. "Eleven minutes older." Is this an answer to DJ's incomplete question, or an echo? A little of both. Lily's smile is scrunched up, tight and a little watery. "I annoyed him about it all the time. When he did better than me at school, when he started to 'big brother' me along with the rest of our siblings." She looks up to the ceiling for a moment, grip tightening on the chisel. "Used to joke that we were meant to be a November birthday, not December." DJ's breath catches at Lily's answer, mouth opening into a small "o". "She was always so competitive in class." He blinks hard, looks momentarily away. The ear protectors he'd just started to pick up have vanished from his grip -- nowhere to be seen now, they're probably a lost cause. "-- November 18," he says, head dipping with a small flush as he goes to get a new pair. "It's when I got here. It's not exactly a birthday it's --" He swallows, breathes in deep. "Well. It's something." "He always teased me about being so competitive," Lily says, softly, still looking at the ceiling. " November 18th. Next Thursday?" She looks down at the ear protectors, slides an over ear one around her neck. "Not as good as eleven-eleven, but. Happy early something." Now she risks a glance sidelong at DJ, brows knitting together. "Do you have plans? For my, uh, something-versary, I found it helpful not to be alone. To be doing something." Her glance flicks over finally to the work they're gearing to do. "Building something." For a second DJ just looks blank at the idea of Plans; at a delay a very lopsided smile works its way across his face. "I haven't exactly had a -- plethora of people lining up to, uh. Celebrate my existence here. That's usually the birthday thing, right?" He shrugs. Tucks his own (new!) pair of ear protectors into place, blinks into place beside Lily to survey their setup. "But building something? That we could do." "Their loss, then." Lily's smile is crooked too, lips twitching higher up on the left side of her face. "I've got no job and no plans beyond helping out uptown -- have you been to the American Museum of Natural History yet? They got like three halls full of birds." While DJ looks at the workspace, Lily turns her head to look at DJ, to their project for the evening, back to DJ. "Build something. We could build lots of things. You just gotta remind me how."