(Untitled)

[floozyfacade]

The thing about the elevator in the Compound is that Olive can't think of any earthly reason it should be there. Granted, this isn't, she's fairly certain, any version of earth she's familiar with, so reasons of that nature don't actually apply, but, in spite of knowing there's very little use in it, she continues looking for some measure of logic

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[halfscarlet]

The elevator's dings always echoed down the hall whenever it stopped on his floor, and there weren't as constant and close together as they had been for the last couple of minutes. He'd stuck his head out of his room at first, wondering if it was worth it...and headed down the hall anyway, tossing the book he'd been trying to read back on his bed.

Billy waited in front of the elevator until it stopped on his floor again, and tilted his head when all was revealed.

"Okay," he said slowly, and reached a hand out to hold the doors open, "I was totally expecting like, a five year old."

[floozyfacade]

"Well, someone got your delivery order wrong," Olive deadpanned. "What's cooking, Billy buddy?" It hadn't even occurred to her that someone would hear the bell going off, and she couldn't help a bit of guilt at the idea she'd probably disturbed some people with her joyride, but at least it was the middle of the afternoon. There probably weren't too many people inside just now. That was what she would tell herself at least, and either way, she was genuinely delighted, as always, to see Billy.

[halfscarlet]

"Not much," he replied, stepping inside the elevator. He'd ridden it countless times, mostly to go upstairs; he didn't mind going down, it was going up where his laziness kicked in. "How long have you been riding this thing?"

[floozyfacade]

"I wasn't really counting," Olive said, which was really the same thing as saying it was an embarrassing number of times. It hadn't been that long, of course, only five or ten minutes, but there were only so many floors. When she focused on a thing, she really focused. "You gonna come on board or am I coming out?"

[pointzerothree]

While there isn't really a need to take the elevator when the stairs aren't that numerous, there likewise isn't any point in not making use of it, given the fact that it's here. Besides, with the walking he does on a regular basis, his hut all the way out at the beach, Eduardo figures he can afford it. It's with the intention of a semi-regular trip down to the clothes box to look for decent shirts and pants (a losing battle he's been fighting since the day he arrived here) that he's been waiting for it on the main floor now, weight back on his heels and hands clasped in front of him when the doors open

[floozyfacade]

"You have no evidence of that," Olive protests. "Maybe I just... got lazy and... came up from one fl- yes." It's one thing to get caught at it, another to be called out on it, particularly by the boy she's dating. Even so, she's not inclined to be especially sheepish about it. It's not like anyone else is using the elevator. People waste their time in far less interesting ways here every single day, and anyway, she's pleased to see him. Were she not saddled with a laundry basket to take care of, she might well pull her best McAdams and jump him (that movie may have its flaws and it's certainly no Can't Buy Me Love, but there is nothing wrong with occasionally needing ninety minutes of Ryan Gosling-flavored manpain and shirtlessness and she will stand by this until the day she dies).

Instead she just steps forward to hold the doors. "Where are you headed? Can I give you..." She breaks into a grin, brow raising as she gestures to the elevator around her with her free hand. "A lift?"

[pointzerothree]

"A lift," Eduardo echoes, shaking his head at the play on words as he steps into the elevator, brushing his lips against her cheek as he walks past her. "Nice. I, uh, was just going to go downstairs to look for clothes, but hey, if you want company -" In lieu of finishing the offer, he shrugs, supposing it speaks for itself. Even more pointless than the presence of the elevator itself is riding it up and down with no destination, but he's got nothing better to be doing and she's here, the latter of which makes all the difference. Besides, he'd be lying if he said there weren't the slightest thrill in thinking about the doors closing and the two of them being alone in here - not that he'd really do anything, but still. "Better than doing it on your own, right?"

[floozyfacade]

With him inside, Olive hits the button for the bottommost floor, turning toward him as she lets the doors shut. "Well, I've got to get back to my laundry pretty soon anyway," she says, feeling the slight, familiar lurch of the elevator beginning to move, "so if you wait a few minutes I'll join you. And you know I always want your company." Light though her tone may be, it's not much in the way of a joke; true, there are probably occasions on which she's better off on her own and she isn't the kind to spend all her time with a boy, clinging on like a limpet, but for the most part, she'd rather have him at her side.

[phoinikothrix]

Francis has never been able to understand the concept of laundry--at least, not when it comes to doing it oneself. However, in the absence of any proper dry cleaners or laundress, there are some sacrifices to be made.

At the ding of the elevator, he turns away from puzzling at the washer, breaking into a smile when he recognizes the girl inside. "Hello, Olive. Why on earth would you want music in an elevator?"

[floozyfacade]

"Oh, I don't," Olive says, bending down to retrieve her basket and heading on into the room as though that had been her intention all along. It's the smart thing to do, anyway, given that she may as well give the box a look while she waits, and Francis makes for welcome company. "Trust me, I don't. I meant the music in elevators, you know, it's usually, it's bad, it's just awful like ninety percent of the time. And this one doesn't have any. I'm surprised they missed an opportunity to make us a little crazier."

[phoinikothrix]

"Shush," Francis replies, his voice hushed and mock-conspiratorial. "You don't want to give it ideas, do you?" He barks a short laugh and drops a sly wink at the girl, before turning back to the washer.

"You know," he confesses, loading more clothes into the machine's gaping maw, "with an infinite amount of clothes available in that box, it's rather hilarious anyone here does laundry at all."

[floozyfacade]

"Isn't it?" Olive drops her basket (an awkward, makeshift thing, but still better than loading up pillowcases or whatever every time she has to do a couple loads) onto one of the tables. "But therein lies the reason - we could forego laundry altogether and just have a vast pile of dirty clothes lying around if we wanted to, but think of all the horrible things we'd have to wear in exchange. I don't know, I think the extra effort's worth it not to spend my days in spandex and sparkles."

[arrownomore]

"Have you been going up and down this whole time?" Cissie asked, entirely too amused. It was her turn to do laundry so she had her stuff and Cassie's all jumbled together as she waited for a free washer. "I thought maybe the thing was possessed."

[floozyfacade]

"It is," Olive said, grabbing her basket as she headed out, grinning. "Completely. There's a demon in there, wouldn't let me out. Uh, no, I was just... you know, curious. How's it hanging, Cissie?" There were, she figured, far stranger ways to pass the time and far more eccentric people on this island. Then again, maybe this was a sign she was finally cracking; she wouldn't have been too surprised.

[arrownomore]

Cissie snickered. It wasn't by far the strangest thing she had seen anyone do here, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't way too amused. "A demon, huh? Well, unless he rhymes in couplets, I think we'll be okay."

"I'm doing okay," she added, leaning against one of the dryers. "It's my turn to laundry as you can see, so I'm kind of bored but it's actually better than doing homework, so there's that. How are you?"

[floozyfacade]

"Well, now I'm... good, but wondering about poetic demons," Olive admitted, laughing. She set her basket down on a table and shrugged. The last few weeks had had their ups and downs, but she was, for the most part, doing pretty well. "I'm good. Yeah. And we cannot have this boredom, no, we're going to have to come up with some way to entertain ourselves. Without resorting to homework." As much as she liked learning, there was a vast difference between the enjoyment that came from reading things on her own and slaving over problem sets or whatever teachers threw their way.

[psychoenough]

Annie doesn't make it a habit of using the elevator, partially because paranoia dictates that the moment she's inside it will malfunction and she will be trapped with no island fire department to come to her rescue, but also because having lived on the second floor of her building and attended Greendale - which suffers from a mass shortage of functioning elevators - for the past two years, she's grown accustomed to the stairs. Typically, Annie only braves it when she's carrying more books than she knows she can handle back "home" to read. At the moment, though, she's only wandering around, curiously peering into the elevator as it stops when she spots someone familiar

[floozyfacade]

"I would not be even remotely surprised," Olive answers. She has just enough presence of mind to grab her basket before she steps out, grinning. Annie's cool, not to mention far more gracious than Olive herself tends to be, so it's a pleasure, as always, to see her at a point in time when she isn't busy making sure everyone's enjoying themselves. "Actually, I think it's great, I cannot tell you how many times I've been up and down in an elevator playing a saxophone version of 'My Heart Will Go On.' It's - I have been tempted to kill a time or two, it's true."

[psychoenough]

"Oh, I know just what you mean, the elevator at my doctor's office always featured smooth jazz renditions of Disney musical numbers. I'm sorry, but no girl wants to be reminded of The Aristocats on the ride up to her first --" She leans in and lowers her voice to a whisper -- "gynocologist appointment." Eyes wide, she backs wide away, nodding slowly as if Olive has already begun to agree with her. It's doubtful the other girl will consider it anything less than disturbing, at any rate.

"So," exhales Annie, gesturing at the basket in Olive's tow, "were you headed to the basement?"

[floozyfacade]

"Wow, so much to look forward to," Olive says dryly. She's yet to have a first of those - the doctor at her last check up said she could wait until she was older or sexually active, whichever came first, which still makes her laugh even now that sexual activity before she's twenty-eight actually looks possible - but she really has to hope it doesn't involve Michael Bolton implanting her brain with the idea everyone wants to be a cat. It just doesn't seem appropriate.

"I was," she goes on, nodding. "Yes. I think I've still got a little while to wait before it's dry, though. What about you?"