ArchivedLogs:Elevator Speech

Elevator Speech
Dramatis Personae Eric, Morgan	2015-02-14 Seriously, wouldn't more arms be really handy?
Location <NYC> Sunrise Apartments - Lobby - Clinton
The lobby of this apartment building is shabby, to say the least. The tiling has not been replaced in quite some time, chipped and coming up in many places; there is a faint smell of mildew coming from somewhere by the stairwell. The exterior door has a large crack in it of questionable origin, and the paint is peeling on the interior walls. The elevator is often slow to arrive, though at least the thing /runs/ alright. For now. Cursing quietly to herself, Morgan pushes open the interior door to Sunrise Apartments open and props out her foot to hold it there. Bending forward, she drags forward two bags of groceries. Somewhat damp from the snow flurries that flutter past her into the building, a few bags line either of her forearms. Snow has a way of complicating even the most mundane, ritual tasks, doesn't it? Having come off of her usual morning run before it started to snow, Morgan looks like a would-be cat-burglar. She wears tight, black, leggings and a fitted, black, zip-up sweatshirt with the hood raised. Her choppy blonde hair spills out over one eye as she continues to whisper obscenities. "Need some help there, miss?" Eric's voice is friendly with a lilting deep south drawl still clinging to it. His hand reaches past her to grab the door and tug it the rest of the way open, holding it as his eyes run briefly up and down her. "God really should have given us more hands, you know?" He's dressed in a bumpy winter jacket, hood lying slack against the back of his neck. His jacket is zipped up almost to his throat, with a navy high-collared sweater underneath. Just the top of some white lettering is visible on one side, though the jacket covers up what the letters say. "Not enough for doors /and/ groceries." Morgan pushes the rest of her bags into the lobby with a feminine little grunt of exertion. "Thanks," she pants, patting her sides as she stands fully erect and shaking off her hood. "I'd take a few extra arms. Fuck being cute," she laughs, then pauses with a flash of recognition as she places Eric's face. The memory is shrouded in drunken mystery, but it's vaguely there. "Oh, hey." "Hey there." Eric drawls, closing the door behind them and sealing out the cold. Most of the cold, anyway. The Sunrise Apartments isn't known for its quality insulation. Or quality much, really. "Nothin' wrong with a couple of extra arms, I always said. Then again, I ain't exactly known ta be a representation of normality." He confesses. "You always say, do yah?" Morgan grits her teeth as she hoists up two bags onto the same arm, "You seem pretty normal, white-bread to me." She arches her eyebrow, chuckling a little. The blonde teeters from one foot to the other, clasping another bag to her chest and pushing yet another along with her foot, "Just don't tell me the elevator is down again or something." "Has it ever worked?" Eric responds, clapping Morgan on the shoulder as he steps over to the elevators. He hits the up button and has the decency to look a little bit surprised when the doors open. Shudderingly, to be sure, but open none-the-less. The police officer eyes the inside of the elevator suspiciously before he turns to Morgan and shrugs. "Maybe on the surface. But down inside, I'm all freak." Morgan laughs heartily, more at the absurdity of even the idea. She pushes her way over to the elevator, purposefully planting a bag of beer cans to stop the door from closing while she loads in. "Oh, yeah? So, if you could be a-" She pauses before she says 'freak,' playing it off as straining herself with a bag, "If you could have a power. What would it be? Eight arms? Japanese sex monster tentacles?" "Donut generating?" "Sex monster tentacles are nice. Donut generating does sound good too, I have to say." Eric follows Morgan into the elevator, shrugging his shoulders and leaning against the wall as he presses the button for his floor. "But maybe that's just the badge talking. The truth is less interesting - I just heal quickly." He pauses then winks at Morgan. "I think my squad would prefer donut generation, though. Probably would make us more popular with the department." The blonde's eyes settle on Eric, gauging whether or not he could be serious. Her jaw tightens and loosens. "Two, please," she says quietly. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she uses a foot to pull in the grocery bag of beer out of the doorway. "Seems like a pretty useful thing to have goin' for you out in the field to me." Eric pushes the second floor button with his elbow as he settles against the corner of the elevator. "Can't hurt, but these days, it mostly means my papercuts heal right away." The police officer's smile is lilting, and he chuckles. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. We could use a bit of peace and quiet as far as mutants are concerned. Ain't need to give the city any more reason to crack down on us. Not the least of which if I'm the one whose gonna have to be doing the cracking." Morgan clucks her tongue against the inside of her cheek, considering Eric for a moment. A cat-like smirk stays plastered to her face. "Give it a few years," she scoffs knowingly, repositioning a bag to rest on the swell of her hip. She leans her shoulder blades against the wall opposite the handsome cop, watching him skeptically despite his own smile. When the whirrs open at her floor, she beings the arduous task of piling her groceries into the hallway. "I hope you're wrong. Papercuts or no, I'll take the quiet over the riot gear any day." Eric asks, straightening up and putting his hand out to hold the doors open. There is no light sensor to stop the doors from closing - that technology is far beyond the standard at Sunrise Apartments. A light touch, however, will easily overpower the motors and hold them. "Do ya need a hand?" Morgan grunts, lifting the last few bags all together and dropping them out into the hall. She shakes her head, smiling, "Nah, I'm good. Thanks, though." In the doorway, she pauses. Her hair tosses around as she turns to regard Eric with the last bag hugged against her chest, "And you should wear a finger cot. They're in every first aid kit, dude. Cuts down on desk-duty injury." She winks, hip-bumping off of the elevator entryway and out into the hall. Eric laughs and shakes his finger at Morgan as she steps away from the elevator. "I might be behind a desk a lot, but I'll never be a paper pusher." The police officer calls after her, as the doors begin to close in front of his face. "You'll never see me file a desk-duty claim!" Laughter continues as the doors jolt shut in his face and the elevator creaks back into motion.