11332/Renovations Suck

Renovations Suck
Date of Scene:	26 July 2022
Location:	RP Sandbox Rooms
Synopsis:	Ava and Finley escape renovation hell for dinner at a pub and end up booking a trip to France.
Cast of Characters:	Ava Starr, Finley Ellison

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Ava Starr has posed:
There is dust everywhere. Despite their best efforts, the upper level renovations have filtered down through the the building, leaving a fine ghosting of powder all over everything. The noise has been fairly constant -- when the contractors have actually been on site. It's amazing, really how unpredictable that can be.

Ava has made herself scarce through much of it. Today, though, she on the work floor, trying to ignore the mess, slamming quantum energy balls into a reinforced target wall. The energy isn't enough to explode or burn, but it certainly puts on a light show and has left marks on the painted target marker.

Finley Ellison has posed:
Finley, perhaps better prepared for the invasion that Ava at the outset, had simply put on a pair of noise cancelling headphones, turned up the music, and gotten back to work. Certainly she paused the actual construction of any designs of a secret and sensitive nature, but the sketched schematics and math? She doubted the contractors would know what they were looking at, even if they did catch a glance. And as it's all on her tablet, it's not like there are blueprints lying around for them to get curious about.

Still the dust is, she admits, unpleasant. But that's what dust cloths are for. And, honestly, tents. And copious showers. Her poor hair feels as though it's slowly turning into plaster.

She *did* offer to get them a hotel room for the duration. Or they could have moved into her quarters at the Trisk. But she wasn't surprised when Ava declined. Even if waiting it out has put her in a foul mood. At least once these renovations are done, the more intensive ones downstairs will be less intrusive. It's harder for the dust to fall up. Not impossible, just more difficult.

Her eye falls on the clock and she realizes the contractors should be just about done for the day. Oh goody. Deciding that it's time for a break, Finley removes her headphones only to be greeted by the echo of sparking thuds as Ava channels her frustrations. Ah. Okay. So she's in a mood. Finley grabs a couple of beers and heads downstairs to find her.

"Hey, you," she calls out, "It's quittin' time." And she waggles the two bottles in the air so that Ava can see her peace offering.

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava considered the hotel. But there are just too many things that can go wrong in a hotel. Even with strangers in her home, she still has the home-advantage if any one of them turns out to be a vindictive bastard thinking to take her off the board. Even with the reno, it's still safer at home.

And staying at the Trisk? Hell, no. Besides, Ava wants to be able to see just what the hell the contractors are doing at any given time. (And, yes, she's totally gone invisible and ghosted her way upstairs to observe them. Regularly.)

Still, when Finley appears, waving alcohol, she pauses her energy potshots. Running hands through too dusty hair, she rolls her shoulder and crosses to her partner to grab the bottle shes offered. "Thanks."

Her eyes stray ceilingward, where the whining sound of power tools has finally ceased.

Finley Ellison has posed:
"It won't be *that* much longer," Finley soothes. And privately decides that she will insist on a break between the upstairs and the downstairs reno, SWORD invasion or no. They both will need a little time to actually settle into the new apartment before upsetting everything again.

As she takes a sip of her beer and looks ceiling-wards, she wonders if the alien nanites could provide her with a sort of close range forcefield, just to keep the dust out of her hair. *That* is a potentiality worth investigating.

Ava Starr has posed:
The fact there actually *is* dust in Ava's hair suggests she's been tangible at least for a little while. She'll want a shower later, certainly. Then, it's a toss up how tangible she'll remain, once she's clean again.

She slugs back a mouthful of beer and chuffs a soft breath once she's swallowed. "We should go out for dinner or something," she says. "There's that bar in Harlem that's decent." Or she's open to suggestions. "I just want out of this mess." It's something of a funny statement, given how thriftstore-flophouse chic the loft space they've been using is.

Finley Ellison has posed:
"Well, I need a shower first," Finley says, "or people will start calling *me* 'Ghost'. That or the Paper Mache Horror." She takes another long sip of beer before agreeing to dinner out. Not that wants to watch Ava try to cook in a plaster-y kitchen. Or eat what comes out of it. She knows that more time away will make it seem even worse to Ava when they get back. But also living in a construction zone is exhausting. "But after I'm clean, well cleaner, going out sounds like a great idea."

Anything to soothe the savage beast.

Ava Starr has posed:
Finley's not wrong. Ava will not really feel a whole lot better about returning to the mess afterward. She will feel better when Finley finally leads her into the new loft, the new upper level, entirely tailored to their needs and -- more -- made into a real home instead of some run down safehouse or a military base. That will be the *real* transformative moment.

Still, getting out for a little while is probably a good idea. And if they drink enough, Ava won't notice the mess when they get home.

Finley Ellison has posed:
"I'm going to take myself and the rest of my beer to the shower then," Finley says. If they're going out, no need to delay in the preparations. "Care to join me?" she asks with lascivious little eyebrow waggle. She doesn't expect Ava to take her up on her offer, not with the mood she's in. But if she does...yay!

Ava Starr has posed:
"You go ahead," Ava tells Finley, not unpredictably. "I want to look at the jobsite one more time." Make sure everyone's left. Then, she'll likely step in for a quick shower herself. But if she joins Finley, they'll probably never leave the loft -- which just might be Finley's plan. But Ava wants a big, greasy cheeseburger with bacon and fries. And something more to drink. So, that means: Pub. Somewhere.

Still, she softens the rejection with a smile and a quick peck to Finley's cheek. "Next time." Maybe. If she's not in a mood to flee again.

Finley Ellison has posed:
Laughing, Finley pulls her in for a tender kiss on the lips. But then lets her go. "I need to wash my hair, anyway."

Which means she was only teasing. After all, she wants to go out to dinner too. Food that doesn't carry the aftertaste like sawdust and plaster sounds like nirvana. Besides if they go out to dinner now, Ava might be in a better mood later.

"I'll be ready in about twenty minutes," she declares as she makes her way up to the shower.

Ava Starr has posed:
Thirty-minutes later the pair are out the door and in a cab. Another thirty and they're at a fairly nice little pub that's both out of the way and not so rundown as to suggest they should go somewhere else. They find themselves a spot in a corner where Ava can see the room and where the servers aren't tripping over them. There's a band setting up in a corner.

Ava scans over the menu. "They have bacon cheese burgers," she declares. "I'm good." 'Cause, really... grease and protien. That's all she wants.

Finley Ellison has posed:
Finley takes a little bit longer, agonizing over the choice between spinach artichoke dip and loaded tatertots. But opts for the former as it will pair better with the arugula and goat cheese salad she's suddenly craving. She makes a soft clicking sound with her tongue as she peruses the drafts on offer until she finds an acceptable cider. Finally looking up she says, "Okay, I'm ready."

Ava Starr has posed:
The fact Finley takes so much time agonizing what to pair with which dish is at once fascinating and amusing to Ava. For her part, she only needs a pint of Guinness and she's happy.

Nevertheless, she gently flags a server down when one glances their way. In little time, the order is sent to the kitchens and they have booze sat in front of them shortly.

"How much longer do you think these renos are going to take?"

Finley Ellison has posed:
"A week? Maybe two?" Finley shrugs. She sips on her cider. "All the plumbing and electrical is in place. Including the private elevator *and* the public one which doesn?t go up to our apartment. Drywall should be finished in a couple of days, I think. And have you decided if we're handling security in house? Either way, security needs to come in. And our own personal installations. Then any patching before we get different contractor for furniture install and decorating. The more you want us to do ourselves, the sooner people are out of our house."

Ava Starr has posed:
"How much can we do ourselves?" Ava replies, pulling a long draw on her Guinness. She's eager to have them out sooner, rather than later. Though even she can be forced to admit that doing too much themselves may only make it take all the longer. Thus, she sighs, taking a second swig. "I suppose we should get professionals to handle it. All except our upgrades." Because there's no way she's going to leave things as they're left by the various contractors. "I'm just tired of people being underfoot."

Finley Ellison has posed:
"I get it, Ava. I really do." Finley reaches out to take her hand across the table. "So let?s say a week for these contractors to finish and for the security team to do their install. Two weeks for us to get through the specialty work--which some of that will depend on how much you can create for us. And then, after all that, you can decide if not having strangers around is better than doing all the painting, et cetera, ourselves."

She looks as though she would expound further, except she's interrupted by their waitress bringing her appatizer to the table. Finley's eyes grow wide and she does a happy little shimmy in her seat as she takes in the melty cheese.

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava smiles as Finley takes her hand. There's still a weary irritation in her eyes about the reno, but she does take pleasure in her partner's touch. She lets out a sharp chuff of air. "So... at least a month. Maybe two." Not a surprise. Still not what she wants to hear.

When Finley does her happy dance, however, she can't help but grin, the silliness of it chasing her shadows away for a moment. "It's the cheese, isn't it?"

Finley Ellison has posed:
Finley grins at her. "I *love* cheese. It's so cheesy and gooey and melty and yummy." She takes a slice of pita and spears it into the dip. Her smile widens as the cheese stretches up from the dish. She pops the bread into her mouth. And then, her lips forming a wide 'O' she breathes over the food already on her tongue. "Hah-hah-hot. Oooooh. Oops," she mumbles chewing and swallowing. Blushing, she takes another sip of cider to soothe her scorched soft palate.

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava can't help but snicker at that, leaving the comment she wants to make unsaid. Then she steals a piece of bread to try the cheese. Of course, she's a little more circumspect about just how much she puts in her mouth at once. Because, y'know... hot cheese might as well be lava. "I suppose I can make do for another month." She won't promise two.

Finley Ellison has posed:
Finley nods, knowing that a month of strangers underfoot is probably likely. But she also hopes it won't be more. And that they can speed through their part of the reno. Who knows, maybe Ava will like using a paint sprayer? And since she can fly, they won't need to bother with ladders.

She takes a more circumspect bite of dip. And idly scrolls through her phone. Her brows gather in a faint knot of worry before she places it face down on the table. "Sorry," she apologizes.

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava cants her head lightly, ears rising faintly at Finley's brief scowl. "What's wrong?" She rarely plays with her phone at the table, but that's mainly because the only contacts on it are Finley and one or two go-betweens for jobs. Most of that, in fact, is handled on the web, rather than her handset. But she knows Finley is more social than she. By far.

Finley Ellison has posed:
"Oh, nothing." Finley shakes her head. "I'd just expected a reply by now, is all. Dr. Melnick is usually such a prompt correspondent. Especially if he's asked me to review data. But it's been three days and he hasn't sent it yet. Or emailed to explain why he hasn't sent it. I just..." she shrugs. "I guess I'm a little worried."

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava's brows flex slightly. She's not usually concerned about eggheads that aren't her particular egghead. But, since Finley seems concerned, that's enough to pique her curiosity. "Why don't you give him a call," she suggests. She gives a mild shrug. "Worst that'll happen, you'll go to voicemail, right?"

Well, really, the worst that could happen is that someone picks up and tells Finley he's dead. Or he picks up and tells her to fuck off and quit bothering him. Or maybe he tells her everything's fine and then Finley decides she needs to check on him, and...

"Or, you know, we could swing by his place on the way home or something. Is he local?"

Might as well preempt the cascade before it begins.

Finley Ellison has posed:
"It's like 2am there?" Finley worries her bottom lip with her teeth. Despite the inflection, she isn't asking Ava to confirm the time zone math. It's definitely the wee early hours of the morning in Geneva. And Dr. Melnick is an older gentleman, so the likelihood of him pulling an all nighter for SCIENCE! is much slimmer than some of Ellison's other colleagues. The lilt in her voice is the anxiety creeping in.

Ava Starr has posed:
Two a.m.? Ava does a quick bit of math and then realizes Melnick is in Europe, which makes sense given the fact he's one of Finley's particle physics friends. Her lips purse faintly before she grabs hold of her drink and swallows. "Well. When does his office open?" she counters. "Nothing says we can't grab breakfast in... wherever he is. Europe?"

Finley Ellison has posed:
"Um..." Finley's fingers fly over her phone screen. To Google! Well to CERN. Or, most accurately, to google CERN. "8am, I think? That's the normal time things open, right? Oh! Yes I - yes, 8am."

She holds out her phone to show Ava. The search engine results conveniently lists hours of operation, phone numbers, and a little map. Photos too.

She's utterly forgotten her food, possessed by a sudden urgency. "And we can? Oh! Oh, yes. Because you can. Yes. Um. Geneva. He's in Geneva. Well, just outside of Geneva. Although maybe we shouldn't go there directly. Particle Collider vs Protector of the Universe is not a battle I want to be on the sidelines for."

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava has to chuckle some at Finley's inevitable complete and utter track switch. "I suppose I could make a big mess of their experiments, hm?" She tries not to react to the whole 'Protector of the Universe' thing. She's still not really comfortable with it. She certainly doesn't think she's earned it. She probably never will.

She thinks for a moment. She's actually *very* good with geography, so she says, "What do you think about an early breakfast in Lyons, and then a train ride to Geneva. We might not get there for 8am exactly -- it's a 2 hour ride -- but it should be far enough away I won't nuke anything."

A beat. "Nothing important, anyway."

Finley Ellison has posed:
"You really honestly could, Ava," says Finley with utter sincerity. She has no doubts that the collider would lose. And their work is *important*. Finley would hate to disrupt the progress of science. And she's sure Dr. Melnick wouldn't be too pleased either.  

After some quick mental math, she looks down at the spread before her with slight dismay. "Breakfast in less than four hours? I guess I'll be hungry again then." She sips her cider absently. Four hours is a perfectly reasonable allotment of time between meals.

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava smirks quietly, eyes gleaming slightly as she regards the blue-eyed blonde opposite her. "I'm sure we can find ways to work up an appetite," she says casually, picking up some of her food to take a bite. She swallows slowly, but then adds, "In any case, it's France. We're talking baguettes and cheese or perhaps a light pastry with fruit. If you want a heavy french meal, we'll go to Paris for dinner, sometime."

Super powered individuals are definitely a nightmare for customs officials around the world. And Ava well knows how to take advantage of that -- even without *phenomenal cosmic powers* (iiiiitty bitty living space).

Finley Ellison has posed:
"A-va!" Finley squeals, blushing. There's a gleam in Ava's eyes that she finds deliciously unambiguous. Maybe she can convince her to get a hotel room - just for the night. Because the renovations leave everything a mess. And clean sheets only stay so clean, no matter how hard one tries to keep the dust out. Although Ava *can* pull them into their own personal phase shift. Which is a definite bonus.

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava purses her lips again, a subtle air kiss, before she returns her attention to their meal. "If it's 2am there now," she says, conversationally now, "that gives us... about 4 hours before we need to pop over. We should probably buy train tickets between now and then. You're also suggesting that we don't get any sleep between now and then. We should probably not try to go on 24 hours without sleep to go visit your colleague."

Finley Ellison has posed:
Finley makes a small moue of disappointment. And then she blinks her eyes innocently. "Well, are you tired now?"

There's just the hint of a smirk that begs the question: *Do you want to be?*

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava gestures to Finley's full plate. "Finish your food," she suggests. "We'll think about dessert, later." There's still amusement in her eyes, that earlier gleam. But she doesn't pursue the metaphor further. "If you're still not tired, I know a place in Lyons for a late night cappuccino." Not to mention... she's got a safehouse there. She's got several scattered across Europe, actually.

Finley Ellison has posed:
Taking another bite of rapidly cooling cheese dip, Finley makes a small noise of enjoyment. After washing the food down with her cider, she licks her lips. "So you're saying we should just go to Lyons after dinner?"

Ava Starr has posed:
A lopsided expression pulls at Ava's lips. It's halfway between a grimace and a grin. "What do we have waiting for us at home?" she asks dryly, now. "Dust, debris, and an unholy mess I don't even want to contemplate." Yeah, there's no way Finley's going to get Ava to relax at home, in the middle of renovations. "I mean, I suppose we could just fly to the moon or something for kicks, but... France is nice at this time of year."

Especially when people aren't trying to kill you. Or when you don't have to kill them.