Logs:Clean Up the Hard Way

From Tenebrous Isles
Jump to: navigation, search
Clean Up the Hard Way
Dramatis Personae

Lola (Cause), Aurelie

25 October, 2007


'

Location

Ho'okipa, Honolulu

Plot(s)


Late at night, well after most are in bed and deep asleep, Lola has returned to her home.. at least, of the moment. In the brief time she’s been a tenant, her presence in being so has been spotty. And she’s brought random things as ‘payment’ for her place. Old toys, pieces of machinery, dead animals (freshly, not long dead) and other random objects someone might run across over the course of a day. At least, you assume it’s her. It’s usually left in front of yours or Peter’s doors.

Tonight, however, is a bit different. The first clue of her being there won’t be seeing her, but seeing the trail she left. A half a bloody footprint here. A smear of a handprint there. Leading right towards the communal bathroom nearest her simple room. The door is half closed, as if only casually pushed closed. Inside is.. a mess. A blood soaked T-shirt and boots left tot eh side. Ruined bellbottomed corduroys tossed the other way. And a nearly nudge young woman standing in front of a running sink, busy tossing water over herself to work off the remains of dried blood that covers her, head to toe. With not a thought towards being seen. Or the state the bathroom is in, red tinted all over the floor, smears here and there from where she’d touched the wall or the toilet to balance herself.

She herself looks like she’s been through a fight. Bite marks and minor lacerations here and there, but ultimately she looks to be in good shape. Nothing broken, no sign that the pain of her wounds bothers her all that much.

Aurelie is returning from a "check-up" visit on a new boy band who's staying the week for a concert at Ala Moana at this ungodly hour. She's padding down the halls in her bare feet with black nail polish to match her fingers, positively and effervescently glowing like freshly uncorked champagne. She's wearing a man's button-down with one button fastened just above the belly button to preserve her modesty (though the modesty may have been unintentional). So it is with her wildly disheveled hair and smudgy dark eyeliner that she finds blood on her floor. "Well. That's unsanitary," she muses, pursing her glossy lips and following the trail to Lola's room. She stands a moment at the ajar door, just watching and trying to put puzzle pieces together before she knocks. "Evening, Lola. Looks like you've had yourself a bit of a caper. You okay? Need a hospital? Anything likely to follow you? Because I can have that handled for you."

Lola glances over her shoulders, hardly bothered when her cleaning is interrupted. The unnatural red head cocks her head slightly, then shakes it. “Nah, it ain’t alive no more.” Though she pauses a moment, her brow furrowing. “If that counts..” However, considering the conundrum doesn’t hold her attention for very long before she adds, “Whatever. It’s insides are outside now.” A beat before she adds, “And all over me.” A feral little smirk offered before she looks back to the sink. “I think one got away, but they’re dumb.. it was going after other people and the cops were there so I got out.” She continues to work on cleaning herself off in the sink, despite it being the most inefficient way to do things.

Aurelie quirks her glossy pink lips to one side, highly amused. "You're made of tough stuff, Lola. Any tussle you walk away from and they don't is a good day. Can I come in?" The leggy blonde lays her hand on the doorknob but doesn't move her meet. "Where'd all this happen? Close by? Something I should maybe look into? Not everybody's as handy in a scrap as you seem to be." Her eyes, sea-green again from when Aurelie's unnatural glow faded away, sweep over the unused bathtub and shower. "The plumbing works, if you like that sort of thing," she gently teases, a northern midwest accent just barely creeping through. "You need a beer or anything?"

“As long as you don’t mind your feet getting dirty,” Lola answers casually. Because by the time she’s done a mop will likely be needed. She pauses, twisting a little to one side, then the other. Taking a moment to get her bearings before she waves a hand vaguely in the direction of Waikiki. “Over there.. some construction place. Dead things were attacking people. Looked like fun. They got hands on me, but its fine. I heal good,” she states in her succinct way of speaking. One could spend a while considering if her casual manner is born of immodesty or simply a lack of personal awareness. Given she’s not flaunting herself in any overt away. “Last one got cut up and some big dude had it locked down. So I just dug in, you know?” As if, according to her words, pulling insides out and getting them all over oneself is the thing to do in such a situation. “Beer’s fine,” she adds, glancing at the tub a moment. Before going back to what she’s doing. Which is having an effect. It’s just taking longer.

Aurelie steps in and deftly dodges bloody footprints as she walks towards the room phone, presses 0, and lightly but succintly orders, "Six-pack to the Banzai Suite. Leave it on the inland side of the door, and just knock on the wall when it's here and I'll grab it. Mahalo, Babe." Then she relocates herself to the edge of the bathtub, perching there and not minding there's no place to deftly dodge the blood here. "Won't be the first time I get my feet dirty and it won't be the last. Dead things, huh? I heard all kinds of superstitions but you know, they say seeing is believing. And I see you clearly enough. Are those...bite marks?" She retracts her pointing finger before it gets too close to Lola. "Dug in, huh?" Those glossy pink lips quirk again. "Why don't I think you mean you dug in your heels?" The lithe, long-limbed lady looks towards the window and Waikiki beach. "Lot of tourists around there. Not to be an asshole about it, but it's good it was you and not some punk kid tourist. Most can't handle their way out of a paper bag, let alone put down the walking dead and heal up from it. You uh...learn to fight somewhere or does it just come naturally?" There's a knock on the wall about three feet away from the door and Aurelie goes to retrieve the beer, returning with a can held out for Lola. "Oh yeah, thanks for the presents. Something keeps happening to all the dead things, so hey, find a need and fill it."

Lola is.. less dirty than she was before. Not exactly clean. So she shifts focus as Aurelie speaks. Her head lowered as she starts drawing up water to run through her hair. With it mostly being that garish shade of red already, some of the blood is harder to see than the rest, but as she strokes her fingers through her hair after each double handful of water, the red in the sink tells the tale. So it will be a minute or two after she’s asked that she gets an answer, after she’s spent some time working on her hair, leaving it a bit less dirty. Obviously not even thinking about it, she shakes her head vigorously in a distinctly canine manner. Which certainly helps get most of the water out of her hair. And everywhere else.

It only takes a few moments, but after she grins broadly, straightening up. “Better,” she decides. She lifts an arm, noting a double row of toothmarks on her skin. Her head cocked slightly. “Yeah. They bit. Like in the movies.” As if that were not unusual at all. She turns to Aurelie and grins broadly as she adds, “By dig in I put my hands up in those cut and tore it’s insides out.” She holds up her perfectly normal hands for that. “Wasn’t too hard. it was already fucked up, I just finished it. And blood went everywhere.” Her arms spreading upward, as if to mime the shower of gore.” Her grin saying it was a positive thing. “I learned to fight on the streets. I like fighting. They don’t, but that’s fine.” The last an offhand remark.

Lola lowers her arms, then snags the can offered to her. "It's fine," she adds. "The stuff. Ain't mine anyway." She shrugs, glancing down to pop open and start her first chug.

Aurelie closes her eyes in the shower of droplets from Lola's impromptu drying, but otherwise doesn't flinch away. It would be futile anyway. So the droplets collect on her face and the white shirt and her crossed legs. "Better," she concurs, with a nod of her head as she wipes errant water away from her mouth, at least, the cracks open a can for herself. Her pale brows quirk up. "I'm impressed. Most people would probably want a tool of some type to disembowl some zombie-fied corpse. But when time and resources are limited, you need to get things done. I mean, I'm not saying I would have done it, but you know, you seem like the efficient type." Another swig and she offers Lola a fluffy towel. "For your hair. You have to like fighting to be efficient at it like that. If you don't like it, you don't get your hands dirty. I don't like getting my hands dirty, but I like...other kinds of contests. Kind of fights. I dunno. Never mind." She waves a hand in front of her, shooing away the errant thought and instead continues, "Your family? They don't like the fighting? That mean you always get stuck doing it?"

Lola quirks a brow at the thought of other kinds of fights. Bemused, but only briefly before she shrugs her shoulders and says. “More fun to get your hands dirty,” she answers conversationally. She then smirks a little and murmurs, “Ain’t getting stuck with nothing. I like it, my sisters don’t. So whatever.” Obviously not bothered by the whole relegated to fighting thing. She take the towel and works it over her hair with one hand. She looks better, but there are still traces of blood if one looks close. She pauses, lifting her can to take a solid drink again. Then she eyes her clothes. “I guess I need something else to wear. Can scrounge up something, probably.” She doesn’t seem bothered, really. It’s a simple observation.

Aurelie chuckles and raises her can to Lola. "Then it's a perfect arrangement. Your sisters stay squeaky clean and you get to put your fingers in something meaningful." She snorts at her own terrible joke. "How many sisters do you have? I have half-sisters. Don't know how many. But they don't bother me much, and that suits me just fine. Only have to deal with them at...family reunions." She gives a shudder and rolls her eyes. "You need something to wear in the interim? I don't have much in the way thrift store vintage, but you're welcome to whatever's in lost and found in the meantime. Though nobody around here is going to complain if you wander au natural." She waggles her brows and gives a too-toothy grin. "You settled in okay? I can have somebody mop all this up while we go visit the lost and found chest. Clean up the evidence, so to speak. Don't want to get pinched for something in self-defense!"

Lola shakes her head slightly. “Didn’t kill nothing. That wasn’t dead already, anyway.” Not at all concerned, it seems. She finishes off her can and tosses it behind her, landing noisily in the sink. “Ain’t worried about people seeing stuff either.” Obviously. She heads for the door, snagging her boots along the way before casually pushing it open. With enough force to bang it against the wall lightly. “Two sisters. Plenty enough.” And out into the hall she goes.

Aurelie follows after Lola, chuckling into her hand and waving off the maintenance worker. "Just the halls, her room is her own. She wants it cleaned, she'll tell us." Then she pads up alongside Lola and cants her head when they come to the stairs. "Downstairs and to the right, back to the common area. We keep the lost and found behind the reception desk." It's true, there aren't many people awake at this hour, but those that are, are not shy about wantonly staring at the mostly nude Lola and the degree-of-undressed Auri as the pair come down the stairs. Aurelie blows a lavishly puckered kiss to them and leads the red and black haired girl to the reception desk. She taps a code into a pad on one of the cabinets and pulls out a drawer filled with clothing and knick-knacks of all varieties, from t-shirts to bustiers and sneakers to a brand spanking new iPad. "Hopefully there's something to wear to your liking in here. Most of this stuff has been here a while, think it might be in need of a new home."

Lola shrugs her shoulders and says casually, “Clean it up if you want.” The thing about Lola’s room is there doesn’t seem to be a hint of personal effects present inside. Except for a single roller trunk in a corner. It looks weathered and beat up. A long time possession. To her or to someone else. The people who stare at her are casually ignored. As if their attention didn’t matter at all to her, rather than any intentional attempt to snub them. She follows her hostess down to the lost and found. “Dunno.. ain’t really concerned about what I wear. I don’t pick our clothes.” She casually starts to fish around inside the mess of clothing, her brow furrowed slightly as she prods at the garments without any real direction. Of all the things that she’s dealt with fine, this seems to befuddle her. Gutting things with her bare hands? Easy. Being nude? Not a problem? Picking clothes? Hard.

Aurelie just watches the floundering Lola for a moment, her glossy mouth agape at the sudden difficulty the otherwise unflappable girl seems to be having. It's a morbid curiosity that she indulges a moment or two longer than would be seemly, but then she dives in to help. "You're probably close to my size...let's see. How about this...?" She pulls out an old band t-shirt, black, with the logo barely readable but most likely Pink Floyd, "and maybe this, since it's gonna be chilly..." she finds a zip hoodie in a multitude of neon shades. Designer. Tokidoki. Very expensive once upon a time. "And...some shorts, to show off those stems of yours, Babe." She rights herself, her curated offerings outstretched. The front desk staff are just shamelessly staring at the oddness of it all. Auri pays no mind, and just grins.

Lola doesn’t seem embarrassed at her lack of ability to choose. When Aurelie starts to offer her things, she shrugs and takes them. Without much thought to question, really. “Stems?” Her brow furrowed as she ditches her blood spotted panties without show or care. Not looking for another pair as she starts with the first things she was given, sliding on the shirt and the hoodie, though the hoodie she’s a it uncertain of for a moment. The hood part of it throwing her for a moment before she figures it out and gets it on. First hoodie, perhaps.

Aurelie kisses her fingertips as she looks over Lola in the new assembled ensemble. "Sorry if the colors aren't entirely to your liking, but it'll keep that cold wind off the mountains from giving you chills. And you're super cute in it. With or without the hood. They're hell on the hair." She tips Lola a wink and upnods the staff, who take care of the discarded panties and someone murmurs something about keeping some clean options in the lost and found. "Stems," Aurelie repeats, pointing her toe and stretching one her own long legs out. "Like a plant, but with more kicking potential. Let's go eat hot dogs. I want to hear more about your evening. I guess it's piqued my curiosity." Aurelie waves Lola along with her and turns for the kitchen, asking back over her shoulder, "So, you and your sisters aren't surprised by things like walking dead guys?" The kitchen is empty, so she feels free to be blunt. She throws a couple of hot dogs on the range.

Lola gets the shorts on and then considers the clothing. After a few moments, noting the lack of drag on her movement, she bobs her head slightly, seeming content with what she has on now. She looks up then, bemused at being called cute. As if the word doesn’t process in her head. She shrugs and says, “Legs, right.” She bobs her head at the offer of food. “I could eat.” She follows along and approaches a nearby counter to hop up onto, sitting on it lazily. “Nope,” she answers to the question. “Never seen one before, but not surprised.”

Aurelie idly rolls the tubes of meat along the surface as the glorious scent of indefinable meat product fills the kitchen. Two paper plates and buns later, hot dogs are on the table, one offered to Lola. "You see stuff like that often? Dead things, not human or animal things? Things that would scare the shit out of tourists? Maybe...people who don't seem too phased by them, either?" Aurelie pauses her onslaught of...well, really all the same question in many incarnations...to take a bite of her dog. "I love these things. Man. Apparently they'll kill us. Hasn't yet." She grins. "If you see stuff like this, can you keep me appraised whenever it happens? Anything weird. Anything you have to get your hands dirty for. We can call that your rent and you can keep more of your treasures. I have good eyes but I can't be everywhere, and I need to know if weird stuff is happening in my territory." She doesn't elaborate on that, just takes another bite of hot dog, then continues. "Not asking you to share secrets or anything, but if you want to that'd be swell and I sure won't say no. But if you can help me out, I'd be grateful. Tit for tat."

“Sometimes,” Lola answers, a bite into her dog gone by the time Aurelie stops to take her own. So she sees them sometimes. Not the most expressive at times. And her second bite is mingled with a smirk as Aurelie comments on the potential lethality of hot dogs. “Everything dies eventually,” she opines plainly. She then adds, “I can talk about stuff. Don’t matter to me. And that stuff ain’t mine. It’s just stuff I see sitting around. Usually I just leave it around.”

Aurelie grins and then lays into the last bit of her hot dog with unseemly enthusiasm, puffing out her cheeks to fit it all in. "Good deal, 'preciate it," she mumbles around her bite. "Yeah, they say that about everything. That it dies eventually. Guess we'll see," she adds with an almost weary wryness. "Talk is good. I like knowing things, even if they're things nobody else thinks has any value. I like the presents, too. There's value, just a lot of people don't look or don't care. Or they wouldn't be so careless with things in the first place. People who've only known plenty, I guess," she says bemusedly, before snapping her eyes back onto Lola's face and then loosing a breezy laugh almost too quickly after the wayward thought. "I'm spoiled as shit, though, so look at me talking about value. Besides, I like our talks. You don't bullshit. It's refreshing."

Lola finishes off her hotdog as well, letting Aurelie talk without interruption as she quietly enjoys it. She is listening, at least. Paying attention, but otherwise quiet up until the mention of her attitude. At that point, Lola shrugs her shoulders slightly. “Talk is cheap. Punching some dork in the face says more than shouting at him. But sometimes you get put in jail for it. Sometimes that’s good for a day or two, when it’s cold.” Again, completely normal.

Aurelie snorts. "Your sisters didn't come bail you out of jail? Seems like the least they can do, if you're punching dorks on their behalf. Or even if not. What's family for, right?" She licks her fingers, the hot dog a delightful indulgence. "Talk is usually cheap bordering on worthless. But sometimes talk can leave longer lasting wounds. So if you really want to hurt somebody, the right word is worth a million bucks. But see, I think people nowadays are afraid of silence. They gotta fill time with chatter chatter chatter. Silence means you're alone with what's in your own head, or wide open and naked with whoever you're with. No distracting words means you gotta be enough on your own." She shrugs. "It's late, guess it's a good time for philosophy and distracting words."

Lola grins at Aurelie as she speaks. An expression that suggests Lola knows something that she does not. She shrugs her shoulders and says, “We don’t have money. Or jobs. Or other things like that.” After a moment she adds, “I’m never alone.” But she doesn’t elaborate.

Aurelie takes a little bit of silence to consider Lola's words, those sea-green, dark-rimmed eyes scanning over the wildly-colorful-haired girl's face and expression. "You seem to do just fine for yourselves, at least. Honed your skills at finding stuff, getting to a place where it's not usually cold enough to matter if you don't have central heating. Hell, you found this place. Seems like you got it figured out."

Lola shrugs and slips off the counter, leaving the plate on it. "Been living like this for years. Ain't dead yet. Maybe one day." Her attitude nothing but casual. Her expression is not hard to read. With the coy moment left behind, it's plainly expressive again. Death is another thing she doesn't really think about, perhaps.

Aurelie nods and gives Lola another lopsided grin. "But it's not today, no matter what the assholes say." She rises to her feet and stretches her arms over her head. "I should get some sleep, I actually have to do some work tomorrow morning. Which just means putting up a new video for the YouTube channel, but still. Keep looking after yourself, Lola. I like you. Stay as long as it suits you, bring your sisters if you like." She tips one more wink and starts for the door, loosing a noisy, unapologetic yawn that smells faintly of hot dog.

Lola smiles that little smile again. “See ya,” she offers casually, a hand lifted. She leaves it at that, glancing around for a moment before she heads off. She still has a little personal clean up to do, after all. The young woman murmuring lowly to herself as she toddles off on her own.