Maddy Rigby (maddyrigby) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2021-10-16 20:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | maddy rigby, trina van dorne |
Hey Roomie
Who: Maddy, Trina
What: The Grand Tour
When: Present
Where: Maddy’s Apartment
Warnings: Language
The classifieds in the newspaper turned out to be a joke.
Fortunately, the hotel featured free Wi Fi in the lobby, so Trina used the computer after taking advantage of the free breakfast they offered. She’d have to see about a laptop or something, for when she started her job search. Even a secondhand one would be good enough.
The online listings were more promising, and the blonde made a few calls before getting a text back. She jotted down the address, finished off the last of the cold coffee she’d been left with, then headed out for her car. She’d gotten a decent handle on street names, had only gotten lost once or twice.
The apartment building was a singular rather than one in a community, and Trina tucked her sunglasses into the neck of her T shirt as she crossed the parking lot. She hadn’t had a roommate in a couple of years, was hoping she and the other woman would click before she made a binding decision.
Maddy sprawled on a plush, hand-woven rug in the center of her living room. Its vibrant colors — plum, orange, and green — contrasted with the white walls of the apartment. While the paint job was stark, the decor was an eclectic mix of textures, from artificial plants (she couldn’t be trusted to water things) to driftwood chimes twirling lazily under an air conditioning vent, to magenta-dyed macrame on a rod. No two pieces of furniture matched, but they were all cozy and funky and old. Maddy’s favorite was a pea-green recliner from the seventies, which she got at a flea market for $20.
Music drifted from a record player: Arlo Guthrie’s Motorcycle Song. Maddy stared at the wobbling chain of her ceiling fan and fumbled for one of the cinnamon crescent rolls on her knock-off fiesta ware. She took a sticky bite.
A potential roommate was coming. Nobody had lived in bedroom #2 since Luna. Maddy had set some ground rules for herself this time. One, don’t let someone float bad checks three months in a row. Two, don’t get high and fool around with her in the shower. That should cover it. Oh, don’t get murdered. It should probably be higher on her list. Maddy grabbed her phone and fired off a text to Derek. ‘Meeting a chick named Trina about the second bedroom. If I die, turn my ashes into firecrackers. Explode me on July 5.’
Two floors up, and Trina counted apartment numbers on her way down the hall. She’d have to do some thrifting later, because the room would probably be unfurnished, and she hadn’t brought much when she hit Nevada except for clothes anyway. But she’d found a couple of places that offered a good selection online, so she felt set.
“Maddy? Hi.” At five-six, she hadn’t expected to have to almost look down, but the other woman was just a shade shorter than she was. What she could see of the living room said ‘eclectic’, and the needle shifted an inch towards an affirmative. In her limited experience, since she’d mostly lived alone unless there was a guy involved, it was easier if your styles meshed. It was the equivalent of a party foul to bring home a Day Glo lampshade for the living room when the person you lived with preferred earth tones. “Hope you don’t mind me having to come by in the middle of the day, but I work the late shift.”
“Oh, yeah, no worries,” Maddy said, waving off the explanation. “I work weird hours, too. Make yourself comfortable. Mi casa puede ser tu casa.” The door closed behind Trina and the platinum blonde gave a friendly spin. “But please, I beg of you, don’t escalate the level of Spanish. You’ve just seen the extent of my capabilities. You want something to drink?” She presented the open doorway to the kitchen with a flourish.
Like the living room, it wasn’t fancy, though Maddy did have a penchant for collecting appliances that never got used. A closer inspection would reveal cardboard still in the toaster oven. She wandered over to the refrigerator and opened it. “I’ve got fizzy water of indistinct flavor, beer, pop... Um. Expired milk. Should probably pour that out.” She carried it to the sink and upended the carton. The loud glug, glug of liquid going down the sink said she’d only used it once or twice.
While she waited, Maddy made a polite study of Trina. Pretty. Button nose. Killer bod.
“Nah, that’s fine. I started the day with coffee just to get going.” The kitchen was cluttered but clean, the milk aside. And she’d done that before, let something sit until it went bad, so Trina wouldn’t have judged anyway. “What’s the neighborhood like? I’m still fresh off the bus, pretty much, haven’t had much time to look around.”
“It’s chill,” Maddy said, giving the jug a rinse and tossing it in the recycling bin. “Not too loud. I mean, I don’t hate noise, I’m not a Librarian, but you can sleep when you need to. There’s some places to eat within walking distance. If you like Thai, there’s a place down the street.” Maddy dried her hands on a dish towel. “Let me give you the tour.”
The common area of the living room, dining area, and kitchen was self-explanatory, so she led Trina down the hallway, opening and closing doors as she roamed. “Here’s the coat closet, the linen closet... In-unit laundry that mostly works! Annnnd…” She paused, hand on a door knob. “Alright, so, this is the world’s smallest half bath. I’ve seen bigger litter boxes,” Maddy claimed, only being mildly hyperbolic. “But it works if you have guests who like to stand while peeing. The bedrooms are back here.”
Maddy opened the door to an empty bedroom and private bath. It was clean with nothing too weird about it, save for a super faint but ultimately pleasant incense smell from Luna’s days. The door to her own bedroom and bath stood open across the hall. “I left mine open so you can see that I don’t have any traffic road signs or an autographed Kriss Angel poster.”
Trina let out an amused noise, said, “I usually sleep in except on weekends, ‘cause Saturday is laundry day. I figured since this isn’t one of those big anthill communities, there’s not as much racket at all hours, but...y’know.”
She was picturing a bed and a nightstand, a desk and a chair for workspace. The carpet was in decent shape, so either it was less than a couple of years old or it had been replaced within the last year. “Are utilities included?” she asked, taking a half-step into the closet to check for available space. “The last place I lived, there was an issue with the water because of a leak the super either couldn’t or wouldn’t fix. Pushed the rent up since those were separate.” Chest of drawers in the corner close to the window, and it would be a good excuse for clothes shopping. One thing about traveling light was that you got to add to your wardrobe fairly regularly.
“Water, sewer, and trash, yes. Electric and internet, no.” Maddy leaned against the door frame. “It’s not too bad. I’m actually glad they don’t roll in everything. The dude downstairs charges electric scooters. I’m not trying to pay for his side hustle.” She watched Trina inspect the place. “So. Tell me about you. Where are you from, what do you do? Are you into anything weird?” Maddy stuffed her hand in the pocket of her denim shorts and found a tiny ball of thread lint.
“Came up from the Panhandle to see if the rumors about Vegas were true.” And she had decided to put the encounter with Celeste on the back burner for now. If it turned into a situation, and it might, she would deal with it when it happened. No point in being paranoid when nothing had happened yet. Trina stepped back into the bedroom, closed the sliding closet door with a quiet thump.
“I’m working at the Sahara Hotel, in the lounge,” Trina added. “Happy hour starts early, but the real drinking doesn’t kick off until the gamblers back off from the tables. Then they’re either celebrating or trying to drown their sorrows.”
“Right…cool.” Maddy nodded. She knew the Sahara well. It was one of the renovated resorts that referred to everything as ‘elevated.’ Cocktails, elevated. Chicken and waffles, elevated. The Casbar Lounge was elevated, too, possibly because you had to step up into it. She inspected her elbow for a moment, then added, “Um, so just to clarify. What rumors about Vegas? People say a lot about Vegas. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, false. There are people living in tunnels under the city, true. The infamous fountains use gray water, true. Fifteen percent of thefts are committed by casino dealers, false, it’s actually thirty-five. There’s an unusually large amount of supernatural activity, true.”
Maddy waited to see if the bass dropped.
It almost blew right past Trina, because she was trying to remember how much money she still had stashed back at her hotel room. Enough for at least the first couple of months and maybe a security deposit, and….wait.
“Supernatural...like, vampires?” All things considered, it might not be the weirdest thing she’d ever heard. Trina inspected Maddy a little more closely, found no obvious signs of psychosis. Felt no urge to make for the door, either. You got used to the weird after a while, and she liked what she’d seen of the other woman thus far. No reason to jump to conclusions. “Do they live in tunnels too?” Deadpan, because maybe she believed it.
“I mean, maybe?” Maddy looked to the side, considering it. “It’s dark enough and it might go unnoticed if someone was eating the unhoused… But I bet it gets poor air circulation, and wouldn’t you think that offends their sense of smell?” Too deep, Maddy. She shook herself out of the reverie. “I dunno. They probably live in low-key apartments and Extended Stay Americas.”
Maddy brightened. “Oh. Just so you know, I consider this a medium-key apartment. People would notice if a neighbor was lugging bodies in and out, and I’d give it a sixty percent chance of a 9-1-1 dial. Higher if you used the loading zone for too long.” She smiled and made her way back to the living room. The cinnamon roll had made her thirsty.
“Yeah, I figured it wasn’t that kind of neighborhood. Not enough dumpsters.” Back in the common area, Trina said, “Are pets allowed? I might want to get a cat in a couple of months, once I’m settled and have a more permanent job. Plus the space to have room for a pet. I looked for the building manager, but the office was closed.”
“Pets?” Maddy nodded. “Yeah, it’s cool. I’ve been thinking about getting one but I can’t pull the trigger. I go to the shelter and I want all of them?” Maddy poured herself a Coke and watched it fizzle in the glass. “So I come home with none of them. I thought about getting a snake but I don’t think I can feed it mice. They’re way too cute. I mean, I get it, circle of life and all, but… bleh.” She shivered. “Someone told me you can feed snakes frozen mice, and then I was like, do I really want a frozen mouse next to my peas? And like… how do you thaw it?”
Maddy held up a hand. “Don’t answer. It’s hypothetical. But if your cat kills a rando mouse, it’s cool. Not that we have mice! I’m just putting it on the record.” She sipped her Coke.
“No, I can see the place is in decent shape,” Trina answered. “I’ve seen some real dumps before, but this would be an upgrade from where I’m living regardless. No mice, but neighbors on both sides, and the walls are too thin.” The blonde made an annoyed face at the mention, added, “I don’t have much stuff to move, at least until I hit the secondhand stores, so I can be ready to go before the weekend if we can deal with the lease stuff. I pick up after myself, don’t leave dishes in the sink, and if I do get a cat you won’t get stuck cleaning out the litter box.”
“Yeah, I’m not dirty either. I used to be a lot messier but then I got stuck with some truly unkempt college roommates and it changed me.” Maddy nodded. This all sounded cool. “Oh. I am seeing a guy. I’m not sure how cats are around h---” Record scratch. “I mean, how he is around cats.” Behind her Coke glass, Maddy blanched. “We haven’t gotten to the point where we’re asking about pet allergies! But it’s not like we cohabitate, and he has his own place. Plus, there’s Benadryl.” What was she saying? “He might come over to visit sometimes. Don’t worry, we’ll keep the sex to a dull roar, and, y’know, in there.”
Maddy gestured back towards her bedroom. In her experience, it was important to clarify that or you’d come home to a roommate in flagrante on your accent chair without the common decency to put down a throw blanket.
“No worries. I’m between relationships right now and not really looking, but I can never tell when I might come across a free range dick in the wild.” It came out a lot sluttier than she meant it to, but after a moment Trina decided not to self-edit. Maddy seemed sex-positive, since she’d been the one to mention it first, and they should both start out with realistic expectations. Just to cut back on the chance for later drama. “Will the manager or super be back this afternoon? I can sign a lease if it’s necessary.”
Maddy snicker-snorted into her Coke. “Hey, in this apartment, it’s always dick-hunting season.” She wiped a dribble off her chin and went to the living room window. She flicked open the blinds. “The truck’s here. It’s that gray one with the ‘Dad Bod Squad’ sticker. They’ll probably be back after lunch. It’s probably just a sandwich coma.” She retrieved a rental application from a stack of mail and papers and passed it to Trina. “Just hand this to them. It’s not bad, trust me. This isn’t The Summit at Eagle Terrace or whatever.”
She picked up another crescent roll and took a bite. Maddy’s knee bent onto the arm of the couch and she perched there. “Do you have any questions? It can be about whatever.”
“Um…” She was absently looking for a pen in her knapsack, because she knew she’d swiped one or three from the little desk in her rented room earlier that day. “Have you lived here long? In Nevada, I mean. I noticed there’s not as much traffic as I expected, at least not like a few places I’ve lived before. I was wondering if it’d be cheaper to have a moped or something instead of a car, at least for regular getting around.”
Trina finally located a blue-capped open with the hotel logo on the side “Any food allergies I should know about? I usually leave takeout and stuff in the fridge for a day or so, and you’re welcome to graze, but I can label the containers in case you shouldn’t eat some things.”
“No allergies.” As for Trina’s thoughts on vehicles, Maddy was skeptical. “I’ve been here a couple years. Honestly, if you’re planning to get on the highway or leave town with any sort of regularity, I’d skip the moped. Plus, people are constantly drunk around here, and it’s a hundred and ten degrees in the summer. Just relentless, baking heat.” She plopped on her cozy chair, miraculously managing to keep her drink from spilling. “But do you, boo.”
She sipped the brown liquid. A banging noise caught her attention. Maddy craned her neck to see out the window and noticed a person standing at the tailgate of the truck with it dropped. The man hauled himself into the truck bed and rummaged through a toolbox. “Oh hey, the manager’s back. It’s that guy in the blue polo.”
“I better catch up with him. I should be able to get my stuff moved in before the weekend, so I’ll be back sooner rather than later. Nice meeting you, Maddy, and I’m looking forward to settling in.” Back outside, Trina put her sunglasses on as she jogged across the parking lot, the sound of tools rattling in the bed of the truck getting louder as she approached. She still had a good portion of her traveling money on hand, was careful about her spending. It would be nice to have a place that was more than a crash space for the night again.