InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Expecto Patronum"

ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ (spellcasts) wrote in paxletalelogs,
@ 2017-10-19 11:44:00

Entry tags:

bastet, sigyn

beatniks out to make it rich
Who: Max and James
What: Discovering some voodoohoodoo on their floor, then somehow Max convinces James to get a cat (wtf)
Where: Second floor hallway then lobby
When: Monday, October 16, 2017

It was about 2pm when Max finally crawled out of bed in search of food. Work had been a literal all-nighter, and she hadn’t gotten back to the building until about almost 4am, bleary eyed and slightly tipsy, but happy. A client had needed watching at a promo party for their new movie, and after about 2am she’d been told she was done for the night and to ‘have fun’. So of course she had.

Two aspirin and a tall glass of water later, she managed to down a bowl of Lucky Charms while squinting at an episode of My Little Pony on Netflix. But after the first episode ended, she realized she’d just finished all of the milk she owned, and she’d have to leave the apartment to get more. With a groan she pulled on just enough clothing to be considered ‘dressed’ and grabbed her keys and her wallet. She’d walk to the store two blocks away, get milk and other essentials for hibernation, and crawl back under the blanket on her couch.

Except when she opened her front door she was confronted with all kinds of weird going on in the hallway.

“What? Not this shit again…”

Well, alright. Trust him, James had learned his lesson about wandering around this building with his nose in a book - after the situation with the malfunctioning lift (he could have sworn he pressed the right button) and the fourth floor, with the keys, he realised he needed to remain alert at all times in the vortex of weird where he was living.

Like right now. He’d been up for awhile, showered, ate breakfast, sent some resumes, got dressed (a crisp shirt rolled up to the elbows, jeans, and scented lightly of his cologne, notes of cinnamon and spice) - then he was on his way out the door to run some errands. He happened to be still interviewing for a psychiatrist’s position, and in the meantime, attempting to use the most of the daylight hours.

“Ah - “ He paused, spotting another disgruntled resident in the hallway. Which smelled a lot like jasmine. Like New Orleans, actually. That scent when the sun set and the temperatures got just a bit cooler (though arguably, New Orleans itself smelled mostly like piss and weed). “I take it management isn’t just decorating for Halloween?” he asked, rubbing at one of the chalk drawings. It didn’t even smudge, how odd.

Max couldn’t help it; her eyebrows rose when she saw him. Smelled him. “Hey, new neighbour,” she drawled, as playful as she could be with a hangover. And then her bad mood returned when she took in more of their surroundings.

“Unfortunately not,” she answered him, crossing her arms and looking at the jasmine hanging from the walls as if it had personally offended her. “Seriously, is it like this on every floor? I suppose it can’t be as bad as last time...there were live crocodiles and shit on the penthouse floor.” She actually grinned at the memory of it, missing that whole floor of desert paradise that had been hers for a week.

Suddenly her eyes widened in shock. “Have you tried getting out of the building??” she demanded suddenly, “last time we were sealed in…” she looked anxiously down the hallway towards the elevators, now thinking it may be quite a while until she got more milk.

“I really hope we don’t miss the live crocodiles,” James quipped. It appeared as if they somehow found themselves in a pot of the voodoohoodoo. Or at least, that’s what chalk drawings, vines, jasmine, and candles tended to remind him of - especially the candles.

He approached one of those flickering flames, attempting to blow it out. Nothing happened. Of course not, because why would it? “Though no, I’ve not been to any of the other floors yet. Nor have I attempted to leave the building. Perhaps we should give that a go, however.” And then he remembered his manners, the ones his mum had raised him with (unfortunately, he hadn’t worn his everyone loves an Irish boy t-shirt today, strictly reserving that for someplace where alcohol was involved).

Though when you were Irish, alcohol should always be involved. Anyway. “James,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand for a shake. “Nice to meet you, neighbour.”

She took his hand on reflex and shook it, a grin spreading across her face. “Max,” she replied. “You are so weird. Most newbies start freaking out when this shit goes down...how are you so chill? Is it an Irish thing?”

She led the way down the hall, determined to leave the building. “I’m going to the store...but if the building is sealed, I may have to beg a neighbour for some milk. I absolutely need another bowl of Lucky Charms,” she said, and then paused, looking over at him hesitantly. “No...cultural appropriation intended…” she added.

She was rather vivacious, wasn’t she? James liked her already. He’d take weird as a compliment as well, in this case. “Well, love, to answer your question - “ Also heading for the lift, he pressed the ‘down’ button and decided to internally take bets on how long it would take for the thing to arrive. The stairs were an option too, at least.

“The ink on my lease is barely dry and managed to find a key that led to someplace obviously not here unless it was some elaborate setup by management - “ Not to mention Alex and her ice-hands with the weights, but he wouldn’t air her dirty laundry since he doubted she’d appreciate it, “...and then there was the odd mask as a welcome gift and the equally odd dreams. I’d say there’s something in the water, but,” he shrugged. “That’d be too easy. Plus, I’m a psychiatrist. It’s imperative we keep our cool in times when shit goes down.”

The mention of Lucky Charms and cultural appropriation made him laugh too; maybe it was her hesitance. Cute. “No worries, Max, I’ve heard every leprechaun joke known to man,” he assured. “I’d also be happy to give you whatever milk you’d need, should the building not want to let us out.” Cripes, he hoped not.

“Omigosh, my mask is adorable, I’m totally going to that thing as a black cat now,” she laughed. “And my friend Nish got one that makes her look like Elsa from Frozen or something. That party is gonna rock!” she declared happily. The elevator opened in record time and she stepped in ahead of him.

“Hey, be careful inviting a cat into your crib, you'll never get them to leave,” she teased, grinning at him. “But I may take you up on that if we're trapped in here. Although, that week I didn't have much to complain about. I spent most of it on the penthouse floor that was a desert paradise or something, eating dates and figs and pomegranates and enjoying an exotic vacation without even leaving the building.” So the aspirin has kicked in then; Max was back to her mischievous chatty self.

That all sounded odd, but then again, this was an odd sort of building. James simply had to roll with it by now. Crocodiles and the penthouse magically turned into a desert getaway? Why the fuck not. “Sounds like something Cleopatra would go for,” he pointed out, stepping into the lift after her. “Are you secretly Cleopatra?”

Or a cat, if the mask was anything to go by. James wasn’t sure what his own was supposed to be - it was kind of gold and blue, though the blue was sort of an icy shade whereas the gold was bright and warm - but it was good to hear Nishka would be attending this brouhaha. Maybe he should go to the party after all.

“But alright, now I’ve got to decide what sort of costume to wear to the ball. Save me a dance, perhaps?”

“You” would look amazing in a tux. Doesn’t matter what your mask is, a tux goes with everything. You can be Mr. Mysterious or something...what does your mask look like?” she asked as the doors opened into the lobby. It actually looked...pretty much the same. She stopped short and stared.

“Didn’t expect that...is it just our floor then, or...ohh, wait,” she said as she spotted another chalk drawing on the floor. It didn’t seem finished though, as if someone was interrupted in the middle of making it. She half-expected to see a piece of chalk next to it left by whoever did it.

“Why, thank you,” James chuckled. He didn’t think he was anything special in a tux - he’d worn them a few times, those infernal penguin suits - but it was certainly something to consider. “I’m sure you’ll look fantastic in your cat ensemble, Max. Though for my mask, it’s mostly gold, I would say,” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “With some light blue. Kind of pale.” It didn’t match his eyes, really, since the shade there was more oceanic than resembling the sky. He had no idea what it was supposed to mean, if anything.

And now what was this? More chalk drawings? He knelt to brush at one with his fingertips, but it didn’t really smudge at all. It was just there. “I doubt it’s just our floor - now I’m sort of curious about what’s going on there on the other floors. Is it just me, or do you see this and think voodoo?”

“It’s not just you,” she said, watching hopefully as he tried to rub the drawing off and it didn’t budge. She frowned. “It’s creepy, is what it is. I guess with the masks...maybe you’re right about the Halloween decorations?” She shrugged and looked around the mostly-normal entrance, her eyes falling on the front door. “Please be open…” she said, crossing the distance and pushing on it. And when it opened she breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Good news - your milk is safe,” she said, grinning over her shoulder at him.

The fact that someone was actually worried that they’d be held hostage in this building was more worrying to James than anything else. Did that really happen? Like, as in, something that was fun for management? Christ.

“Good news indeed,” he grinned, deciding that there was no reason why he couldn’t complete the errands he had planned - a bit of grocery shopping, running to the bank and the laundromat. “You’re of course welcome to stop by anytime for whatever else, however. I happen to like cats.”

And Max seemed pleasant. She wasn’t a serial killer, unless she hid it very well.

Her eyes lit up at the ‘C’ word. “You do?” she beamed happily, “do you have a cat? Or do you want a cat? I volunteer at the shelter, and there are tons of lovable cuddlebugs looking for good homes if you’re interested...” the eagerness to pair him up with one of her cats was plain on her face.

“No, I haven’t got one,” James laughed a little. He was absolutely mad about Bear, but that spoiled prince was Nishka’s cat. Perhaps he needed one of his own - they could play together, his cat and Bear, unless they ended up hating each other which was highly possible. Cats were odd.

But oh, hell, he was a sucker for animals at the shelter - for animals in general, really. Knowing that there were all sorts of furballs needing a home? Ugh. He hadn’t wanted to adopt one while he was in hiding; it may be time now. “I suppose I could look at the ones at the shelter though?” he added, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Didn’t take much to convince him, as stated, he was an animal softie. “When would be a good time to come by?”

Max had to force herself to calm her reaction to this to just an excited smile. “Ohh wow, okay...well I volunteer Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursdays in the afternoon, so any of those days would be awesome,” she said. “And don’t even worry, they all have their shots, they’ve been fixed and have a clean bill of health. They just need a home!” She practically bounced out the front door ahead of him; any talk of cat love or cats finding forever homes made her happy. “I don’t have it with me, but I’ll slip the information for the shelter under your door when I get back from the store,” she added, realizing that there were dozens of shelters in LA, and there was no guarantee he’d walk into hers.

And here James woke up today not even contemplating getting a any sort of pet at all. How grand. Funny how things changed so quickly, no? “Sounds good, love,” he nodded. “I’ll be sure to stop by on one of the days you volunteer.” He’d have to get some cat things first and foremost - like a litter box, cans of food, some toys, a scratching post. That just got added to the list of errands for today, then.

“I best head on the store myself,” he added cheerfully. “But it was nice to meet you, Max. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.” Knowing him, he’d pick out the oldest, fattest cat at the shelter - but the old ones always got overlooked, and he didn’t quite want a kitten anyway.

“Great!” Mas practically bounced on the spot. “I can’t wait to help you pick, there’s so many amazing kitties there!” She started to head the opposite way on the sidewalk, and then turned back and waved. “I’ll see you around, and I’ll get that information to you as soon as I get home!” With that, she turned and headed towards the store a few blocks away, hell-bent on getting milk to continue her Lucky Charms breakfast.