At about 8 o'clock in the evening, Mavis makes a vending machine run. She's in her early 20s, new in town, and her hotel room doesn't even have a microwave. Actually, there's not a vending machine to be found in any of these room descs, but all hotels have these things so we're going to assume that Mavis has found a soda and snack vending machine side-by-side outside under the awning in the parking lot, which isn't desced but is referenced and there's probably vending machines out there.
Anyway! She's in her pajamas, what Mavis calls her "jammies", barefooted, and regretting wearing a sky blue tanktop and blue camo pajama bottoms outside in Vermont in October. It's a bit colder here than she's used to and Mavis dances from one cold foot to the other as she feeds the machine money. "C'mon.. momma wants a Twix," she mumbles to herself, punching the appropriate buttons.
Had it always been this quiet outside? It's near deafening, the lack of noise. There should be something - the sound of the door shutting echoes, and the hum of the vending machine and the dim outdoor lights is all that penetrates the otherwise oppressive silence. It doesn't register at first, but the lights under the awning aren't functioning. Only the glow from the vending machine lights cast a shadow. And they failed to illuminate the other person who had been occupying the space.
As Mavis turns towards the vending machine, another sound breaks the silence. A soft exhalation. It's followed by the smell of acrid smoke. The light in the awning flickers back to life, a sudden flash of a figure cast across the front of the vending machines, tall and misshapen and far too slender. Audra was standing there - and must have been standing there before Mavis even approached. She's dressed now in a warm jacket and some comfortable jeans. Her eyes linger on the human, watching her from across the awning without remark.
The machine takes her money and spits a Twix candy bar into the dispensing slot with a "ca-chuCK!" sound. Mavis continues to do the "ohsocoldthegroundisICE" dance and feeds more coins into the machine. The coins clink in one by one and Mavis depresses buttons with her thumb. It's the smooth, soft click of the buttons that causes the dusky-skinned artist to realize that... something was strange? Quiet, maybe? Yeah, that. It's too damned quiet.
She peers behind her at the parking lot as some Cheetos tumble down into the vending machine's dispenser. Mavis collects her dinner, opting to finish off the room temperature Pepsi in her room and save herself a few dimes and quarters for lunch tomorrow, but actually she's relieved to have an excuse not to be outside in the dark anyd longer. As if thinking about them dead lightbulbs suddenly roused them, the lights flicker-blink back on. Mavis jolts and leaps back, she drops her Twix bar and might've crushed her Cheetos if they were one of the more fragile chip-snacks. She'd almost screamed, but it happened for fast and Mavis is quite thankful she didn't shriek. Because there's nothing there.
Hadn't there been something there? She'd seen it. A dark... Shadow. Just a shadow. The human peers around self-consciously and a little paranoid, too, and bends down to pick up her Twix bar. The back of her tanktop rides up, revealing a pale, white surgical scar that marches up her spine and disappears under the hem of her shirt. She spies a set of shoes right behind her with a person standing in them. Mavis snatches the Twix off of the ground, quickly straightens herself upright and spins around to face the person that'd snuck up her.
"D'Villy! How did- Never mind. I'm just.." Mavis frowns and her nose scrunches up. It really bothered her that someone had crept up on her like that. With forced cheer, she greets Audra with a smile and bright, "Hi. Hi, how are you? Cold isn't it? Sheesh..."
In the twilight hours of the brisk Vermont evening, Audra appears hungry. She seems as though she were waiting for something, perched at the brink yet unready to dive in. This is the sort of glance she gives to the human and the vending machine as she stands there, slowly working at her cigarette slowly. She takes sporadic but long drags off the thing, and it seems to be pooling up in the awning proper. When Mavis turns and greets her, the dark-haired attorney flashes a small, weak smile. It's genuine, but meager.
"Mavis, right?" It wasn't really a question, and was only phrased as such to give Audra another moment or two to fiddle with her smokes. "I was about to head in myself, decided I'd do this out here, enjoy the outdoors a bit longer." The cigarette had a short lifespan left, but is cut short as the woman strolls forward and extends her arm - which, in the dim light, looks quite long - towards the surprisingly clean outdoor cigarette tray. It's dropped in and left to smolder. She steps up beside Mavis, fishing about for a moment in her jacket pocket for some stray coinage.
The coins sound muted as they're dropped into the machine, failing to rattle about in the same way the mortal's did. Just chance, of course. A pack of peanut M&M's are dispensed, and the woman fishes them out of the bottom tray. "We didn't have a chance to talk much, earlier. Care to grab a cup of coffee with me? Seems like the staff keeps a pot on around the clock." Audra gestures towards the hotel lobby.
Mavis rubs her nose with the back of her hand, the shiny Twix wrapper flashing, and she suppresses coughing at the little tickle in her throat. She wasn't a smoker, it was hardly a habit she could have afforded, but Mavis doesn't give Audra one of those "you filthy smoker" glares. Audra had a right to exist and smoke if that's why she wanted to do, hell, she's eating junk food for dinner.
"Yup," she responds in answer. "Mavis, that's me. Unless some men in suits come looking for a Baines then ya've never heard of me." The artist stands there, feeling awkward and the second wheel on a unicycle. She stands there and shivers, having forgotten the cold, but her body recalled how unused to this climate she was even if her mind hadn't bothered to remember. Hot coffee sounds great, actually, when Audra offers to share a cup with her and Mavis' breaks out into a very human smile, somehow more innocent with that sliver-gap between her top incisors. "Sure! Even though it's totally hot cocoa weather." She indicates the bag of M&Ms Audra bought from the machine. "So, I guess you never found your sushi, huh?"
Habits - especially bad ones - were a sort of ritual. Audra didn't even consider the idea of -not- smoking. It just wasn't an option at this point. She drank. She smoked. She ate raw fish. These were facts of life, and they were crucial to staying sane. When Mavis brings up the lack of sushi, Audra gives an audible, hyperbolic groan. She lets her shoulders sink and - for the first time that Mavis has seen - she slouches. It's low, like a full-body crumpling that causes her to turn into origami and sink under the weight of her own frame. It's almost comical, and she recovers quickly once the package of her snack is opened and she's chewing down on chocolate. The taste can't be very great, after puffing away at that cigarette moments earlier, but oh well.
"No, no sushi. I'll have to figure out which markets have the nice fish and do it myself." She sounds determined, or perhaps desperate. "And as far as men in suits go, I hope you'll afford me the same courtesy. Nobody likes those sort of summons, I don't think." She continues to wear that weak smile as she walks, gesturing for the human to follow as she makes her way back to the hotel. "You mentioned getting your place in working order, earlier. New old house?"
Mavis isn't sure what to think when the reserved D'Villy suddenly slumps and crumbles down to toward the sidewalk, but the young artist quickly recovers with a laugh and clap of her hands with her Twix still in one and the bag of Cheetos cradled in the crook of an elbow. "You would do the thespians proud," she declares with an air of solemnity as if the Council of Thespains were watching them. Not quite.
Smiling, she trails along after Audra and Mavis starts unwrapping her Twix bar as she walks faster on shorter legs to outpace Audra's longer stride. She comes to the foyer door first, opens it and prop it with her cushy backside. She pulls one half of the chocolate-covered caramel and cookie out of the wrapper, this courtesy gesture cleverly manipulated to keep her hands free. "You got a deal, sister," she says with a laugh, holding the naked Twix half between the tips of her thumb, index, and middle fingers and stabbing a point at Audra with it. "I wouldn't croak ya up to the suits, don't worry, not even if they.." She thinks hard a moment. "Hung me upside-down and tickled me with a goose." Okay, so she's a little quirky. She sobers a little as she answers Audra's question about her home-away-from-this-hotel. "Yeah, new-old. Belonged to my gram-gram when she was alive, then my mom, and now me." Skipped the part about her mom dying, but hey. Two years later, it was still rough to talk about. Some people liked dumping their personal grief onto strangers; Mavis doesn't. "I was going to try to get up there sometime this week, check things out."
Mavis isn't sure what to think when the reserved D'Villy suddenly slumps and crumbles down to toward the sidewalk, but the young artist quickly recovers with a laugh and clap of her hands with her Twix still in one and the bag of Cheetos cradled in the crook of an elbow. "You would do the thespians proud," she declares with an air of solemnity as if the Council of Thespains were watching them. Not quite.
Smiling, she trails along after Audra and Mavis starts unwrapping her Twix bar as she walks faster on shorter legs to outpace Audra's longer stride. She comes to the foyer door first, opens it and prop it with her cushy backside. She pulls one half of the chocolate-covered caramel and cookie out of the wrapper, this courtesy gesture of holding the door open for Audra was cleverly manipulated to keep her hands free. Innocent, though. "You got a deal, sister," she says with a laugh, holding the naked Twix half between the tips of her thumb, index, and middle fingers and stabbing a point at Audra with it. "I wouldn't croak ya up to the suits, don't worry, not even if they.." She thinks hard a moment. "Hung me upside-down and tickled me with a goose." Okay, so she's a little quirky. She sobers a little as she answers Audra's question about her home-away-from-this-hotel. "Yeah, new-old. Belonged to my gram-gram when she was alive, then my mom, and now me." Skipped the part about her mom dying, but hey. Two years later, it was still rough to talk about. Some people liked dumping their personal grief onto strangers; Mavis doesn't. "I was going to try to get up there sometime this week, check things out."
There's merely a bow of the head in appreciation for Mavis' praise. Audra's theatrics aside, she's about the same level of somber as the two talk about the more serious events. "Ah. Inherited. That's... Bittersweet, compared to buying a new one of your own." She exhales softly as the pair step inside, still looking a bit chilled even as she shucks her jacket from her frame, slipping long arms from those sleeves and adjusting the collar of her now-wrinkled white dress shirt. A hint of black, lacy bra-strap peeks through. The haggard woman folds it in one arm while the other pops another snack into her mouth.
"One of the reasons I decided to come east to Vermont. Old places, old haunts. New England has something other places - especially new cities with fancy sushi-go-rounds - just don't have." There's another small shrug offered as she snags the door to the dining area and pulls it open, ushering Mavis through first. "The coffee's universally shit, though. No avoiding that, I suppose."
Mavis agrees with Audra's astute, profound sentiments with a quiet nod and timid drop of her gaze that lasts a couple of seconds. She meets the taller, older woman's eyes and smiles faintly then takes a bite out of her unwrapped Twix half, chewing slowly. "I try not to think about it that way," she says, following along behind Audra through the hotel lobby. The lanky woman beats her to the next door and Mavis giggles around a mouthful of chocolate bar as she's hurried into the dining area. "I didn't even know this was here," she laments with a shier laugh and helpless shrug of her shoulders. "Huh, look." Mavis blushes, "A microwave. I mean," she glances at Audra, "not that it's any good for sushi. And," Mavis goes, looking up at the ceiling for a second as she switches gears, "I guess my gram's house is pretty old. Saw a picture of it." That was back in her room, though, inside of the steamtrunk Mavis had lugged around the country. "It looked kinda..." Creepy. "Well, let's just say I've got some rad ideas for Halloween."
There's a twinge of something akin to empathy on Audra's face. "Ah. Sorry. I understand." The kitchen area is quiet, but as Audra promised, there's coffee. A few pumps and plain ceramic mugs sit off to the side, and the lanky woman approaches quickly, snatching one up and pouring herself a cup of hot ( probably slightly stale, by her standards ) coffee. "Old is nice. I can't stand the sterile feel of a new building. I'll take musty old courthouses, dingy hotels, creaky-boarded mansions any day of the week over... Something bright that reeks of cleaning agents and floor wax." Her descriptions were quite strong, as if there was something personal about her words. Nevertheless, the woman picked out a booth and slumped into a seat, cradling her new drink as she snags a small pod of plain creamer to dump in.
Mavis turns to lean on the same counter that the coffee pot is set on, still cradling her bag of Cheetos and munching on that Twix candy bar. She watches Audra, intrigued by the woman and her little vices, hastily pour herself a cup of stale coffee. For some reason, the mortal was grinning a faint wisp of a smile at Audra while she paints that narrative of places Mavis would call "fossilized ages ago". The young artist finishes her candy bar, saving the other half for later by closing the wrapper around it and cramming it into her pajama bottom's pocket. Aren't pockets wonderful?
She pours herself a cup, drops in some cream and sugar, and joins Audra at the booth across from her. Mavis tosses her Cheetos on the booth's table surface then stirs the sugar and cream into her coffee with a little, red straw she'd found over by the pot. "So, you must love this place then," Mavis notes, mischievously. "Those stairs going to the second floor, my room's right by 'em. They creak all night like someone's going up and down." She wonders, "Is that you creeping out for smokes?"
Audra is the sort of person who is very deliberate. She stares at her cup with a look of focus as she pours the cream in, and then dips her own stirring straw in with dextrous, precise fingers. One. Two. Three swirls, and then she lets it move on its own current for a moment or two as her long digits encircle the cup and hold it firm, bring it up to her lips for a testing sip.
"I'd say this place is nice, yes. I don't really know the history of it, but it feels very genuine to me. The authentic quality of a place is hard to fake, in my opinion." She blows on her cup before she downs another slow, careful sip. "Mmm? Please, the stairs? I just skitter up and down from my window." She laughs a little, and it's clearly intended as something of a joke - but for some reason, something in her body language or perhaps the air signals that this is not quite a falsehood. Or at least, that it's a possibility. "I'll be staying for a bit. Plenty of time to ask around, see what sort of things have happened here. What famous people have stayed here, and what sort of people never checked out."
"Guess when you're as tall as you are then second story windows aren't much of a worry," she answers with a small laugh and her honey-brown eyes roll. Her laughter, quiet to start with, dies off and Mavis thinks how... candid Audra had seemed when she'd said that about climbing from the window versus the melodrama of earlier when the woman had overreacted and practically collapsed over sushi. That hesitation flickers across her features while she processes, then dismisses the crazy notion that Audra had been telling the truth. Hadn't she told some fibs? Like the story about men in suits.
In this lighting and this close, Audra would be able to make out the hints of jewel-green in the young artist's eyes and it'd be hard to miss the way she shyly glances down into her coffee cup from time to time. Mavis, unlike Audra, absently swirls her straw through the coffee even though it's certainly swirled enough by now. She nods and murmurs, sounding distracted, "Mhmm, my grandma was a bit," she stops stirring her straw through her coffee to swirl her index finger over the side of her temple, "kuck-koo upstairs. Had a few bats flying loose 'round the rusty cauldron." Mavis lowers her hand, picks up her coffee in both hands, and sips. She shrugs and lowers the cup a little to say, "Or so I'm told. Never met her. Although, I can promise you the Baines aren't famous and probably never will be. You're lookin' at the last of us."
The dramatics of the raven-haired woman were certainly odd. It was difficult to tell where they stopped and started - which motions were rehearsed and which were spontaneous. She was difficult to read, for someone who had never interacted with the odd, scrawny beanpole of an attorney. Those longer fingers curl more tightly about the cup as Mavis seems to consider the remarks, and there's a flash of... Some expression across Audra's face. It might have been regret, or perhaps mirth. The strange pleasure of telling a lie so strange and having it be taken at face value.
Regardless, she carries on without missing a beat. "Mmmm. Odd family? I know how that goes." Empathy flashes across Audra's face now, and she hides her expression behind that mug as he drinks. "'tis a noble thing, to see a ship down like that. But I understand - I can't see myself carrying on the bloodline, so to speak."
Mavis sighs and settles her hands down to the table, lowering her coffee cup and she stares across at Audra. "That's twice now you've gone and said something depressing," she softly scolds, furrowing her brow in an imitation of being cross with the woman seated opposite her. The orphaned artist was a somewhat serious, though, and not trying to hide it. "And what do you mean? Aren't you carrying it on by... existing?" Mavis raises her black eyebrows as she wonders that. "Oh, you meant kids. Yeah, I can't see me having those either, at least not anytime soon. Mom was 21 when she had me." Coincidentally, Mavis was 21 when she died. "Things were... well, mom did everything she could, but I'm raiding vending machines for dinner. C'mon." She could barely take care of herself, let alone another living being! "Hardly parenting material right here."
"I don't think I've ever been accused of being a particularly cheerful person, you know." Audra's smile returns, weak and meager - though with a spark of impish defiance. As if she had no right to smile, and was violating the law by doing so. "Downright gloomy, plenty of coworkers would claim." There was a tiny hint of amusement there. Or was it pride? "And please - I watch plenty of grown men eat their meals straight out of a vending machine, and everybody calls them plenty successful. Don't sell yourself short just because you like those weird little cheese puffs." She winks, and then her smile slowly fades. "It's nice to talk to someone. And here I was thinking I'd be a shut-in again until I started working. I'd love to see that old house sometime, and I'm likely going to have a few weeks until the state's office finally deputizes me. Care to grab a bite sometime?" She pauses briefly, sizing Mavis up. "My treat, of course." It wasn't mean-spirited, but Audra certainly seemed to be teasing the woman.
"No, I suppose not," Mavis laments, biting down on her smile before it slips too far then releases her bottom lip to add, "Part of your charm, I guess. You make it seem fun." She's listening to Audra up until the point she says something that causes Mavis' eyes to go wide with excitement. "Oh! Right!" The Cheetos bag crinkles as she snatches it up, rips it open, and offers it out to Audra. "Want one?" She gives the back a tempting shake and waggles her eyebrows across the table at Audra. "What's weird about a crunchy puff rolled around in powdered cheese flavoring?"
She turns the bag back to herself and sticks her light-brown hand into it. Bracelets circle each of her wrists, laying them beneath decorations of black leather, colorful cloth, and copper bangles. The artist wears a lot of rings, too, eight across all ten fingers: metal, stone, and wood. Mavis takes her time picking out the perfect Cheeto puff, frowning into the bag when Audra offers to take her out then offers to foot the bill. Her nose crinkles, like that perfecto cheese puff must be at the bottom of the bag. Sighing, she plucks one out that's a subpar Cheeto, but it'll have to do. Mavis pokes to at Audra like she'd done before with the Twix candybar.
"All right, fine. This time, but only because I know your standards are pricy," Mavis relents, glancing up with a hint of wry resentment. "And I'm not quiiite on my feet yet, as you know. I dunno how gram-gram would feel about guests, though," she teases, finding Audra's lanky leg under the table and giving it a kick. It's more of a playful nudge, really, and she's barefoot... and human... and has a 1 in Strength. "Strangers in her house poking around, bein' nosy." Mavis laughs. "Actually, I don't know if my brain has caught up to moving into my dead grandmother's house, so some company? Sounds pretty damn sweet."
"No. I don't think I shall. It's not..." Audra gestures at the bag of cheese-amalgamations. "Natural. Cheese isn't exactly natural either in my opinion, but strange globs of flour rolled in dusty cheese?" She shudders rather convincingly. "No thank you. And charm?" That actually elicits a small laugh from the woman, her staccato giggle lasting for a fleeting moment. It trails off before it simply sinks away eerily.
Mavis' acceptance of the offer gets a wider from. "Let me put it this way. I will be going out to dine by myself regularly. The cost of paying for a guest is outweighed by the gift of conversation and a dining companion for a night. We both benefit from such a meal." There's a dark glimmer in those deep eyes. It's the truth, no doubt, but couched in such strange language. Still, the attorney seems genuine enough about it as she leans back and polishes off her cup of coffee, sprawling back in her seat and relaxing somewhat - arms splayed out along the back of the bench.
"Plan on blessing the house? Having a priest drop by to check it for spooky ghosts?" There's a bit of teasing there, but Audra, again, seems somewhat serious. As if there's an undercurrent of ever-present truth to her words.
coffs, "I guess you noticed the locals are a little.. superstitious, but nahh. Never had any of my other homes blessed with sage smoke or anything like that," she raises her eyebrows, grinning, "haven't seen a ghost yet."%R
Mavis' doesn't seem at all dissuaded about consuming flour rolled around in cheese powder and chomps down on the one she has been holding. It was either eat the damned thing or put it back in the bag, but she just looks weird holding it. She's more, hm, self-conscious around Audra than she had been before when they'd first met and Amity was there. Maybe it was the contrast between their two personas, Audra was a successful attorney and Mavis' presence in the art world was hardly a presence at all and her employment at the paintball range doesn't carry the same weight as having a law degree.
"Okay, okay," Mavis says with an uneasy laugh, fidgeting in her booth as Audra goes to argue further points in favor of having a dinner companion. "The jury's back, verdict is a-go. You got your phone on you? I left mine back in my room," Mavis wonders, intending to give Audra her number. She blinks, though, when the lawyer mentions that about blessing her house. It takes the artist a second, but then she scoffs, "I guess you noticed the locals are a little.. superstitious, but nahh. Never had any of my other homes blessed with sage smoke or anything like that," she raises her eyebrows, grinning, "haven't seen a ghost yet."
There was always the intimidation factor, sure. Audra tried to account for it when speaking with people, and when making friends. She was aware, of course, that some people were envious of the monetary difference in profession. Audra, on the other hand, had other things to be envious about. She rarely spoke of them, but they existed.
"Good. And no - it's dead. I may have... Done a bit too much searching and calling around about sushi.. And forgotten to charge it after the taxi here." She sighed weakly. "It was so nice to go an evening without getting any irritating calls or text messages, though. That said.." She digs about in her jacket pocket, having to snatch it from off her seat. A few fliers about some executive retreat are unfolded and a section is torn off with the grinning depiction of some grey-haired executive on it. A pencil is also withdrawn, the words 'this pencil stolen fr-' before the point appears, having been sharpened to the point where the rest is gone. A number is scribbled, and then handed over.
The paper feels heavy. Wispy. As if it might disappear if Mavis were to take here eyes of it, or that it might grow eight legs and crawl into a corner to spin a web. "Feel free, and like I said, I have plenty of free time for the next few weeks." She makes to stand. "As for the locals... Well.. I'd be careful about superstitions. Old places. Old haunts." She shrugs, as if being wary about the supernatural was only obvious. "I'll see you around, Mavis."
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