2011 09 03 Moving Out From Under The Rock

Log Title: Moving out from under the rock
Characters: Revelin, Mike
IC Date: 3 Sept 2011
Location: Tate Apartments Lobby - Chelsea
Brief log summary: Mike meets one of the new neighbors. And a new addition to the Greysong fanclub it seems.
Rating: PG
There is no TS in this log: Yes


12:26 AM
Logfile from Marvel Untold Mux.

-==[ Tate Apt Bldg - New York ]==---------

The Tate is a grandiose reflection of the wide variety of resident types in artistic Chelsea. Boasting of a over forty different apartments, so long as it's a studio, 1 bedroom, or 2 bedroom layout. With the varying floor plans, the price range of the apartments within range from low to mid income pricing. —- In lieu of the typical marble decor, the lobby of this building offers limestone floors and bamboo trees and stone pathways which lead to the windowed elevator that overlooks a private courtyard reserved exclusively for residents and guests. On staff is the live-in manager/building owner and the night time doorman, also known as the owner's son.



Obvious Exits:

[MA] - Mike's Apt - Tate Apt Bldg - N [O] - Chelsea - New York

At this time of afternoon the lobby isn't especially busy. Some residents come and go about their business, everyone of them an artist in some form or another. The variety of attire, hair-styles and make-up is something one comes to expect here. All in all, it makes the perfect place for one such as Tom Revelin to blend in. Faint music comes from the earphones he is wearing as he wanders inside, possibly identifiable as Greysong to anyone paying attention who is familiar with it. The limestone floors echo with the sound of his footsteps, although his trousers go all the way to the floor. Tom hums tunefully to himself and pauses inside the doorway to have a look in his backpack, nearly bumping into another person passing by.

As with this being an apartment that is chock full of performer residents, it doesn't take long for more to enter in. As the elevator doors on the other side of the lobby start their gradual close, a blonde haired man, hair cropped close and known to those who may be familiar with the ill-fated Greysong to be the just as ill-fated bassist, Wade Shaw. Despite such ill-fate he is grinning. No, this blue and white clad man is laughing as he bursts through the lobby door and high tails it towards the closing elevator. "This is going on. Wait no, IN the fridge!" He shouts out, waving a printout that's rolled up in his hands.

Another figure, dressed in much darker tones, utilizing the ever so fashionable selection of the local Goodwill, bursts into the lobby. He is not laughing and instead looks quite annoyed. "Get back here you wanker!" He snaps, running towards the elevator. By the time he reaches the door it is alas, closed. Allowing his friend the gradual getaway he desired. Mike bangs a fist on the door. "Goddammit."

Glancing up from his backpack, Revelin looks in the direction of the ruckuss - not annoyed, but interested. He looks at the printout that Shaw is waving about and recognition dawns on his face - toward Shaw.

"Friends," he wonders aloud. "Can't live with 'em…Hey was that—?" He watches as Shaw disappears into the elevator, leaving Mike outside and slamming his fist on it. Tom pulls a CD out of his backpack, leaving whatever else he was looking for and nimbly leaps a few feet toward the elevator, walking the rest of the distance toward Mike with a broad grin on his face.

"G'day mate," he says with an obvious Australian accident and no hint of shyness. "You guys can't be Greysong, right?"

Giving a sigh, Mike starts to turn around when the sound of footsteps and a greeting addressed in his direction. The knit-capped man's brow lifts in response to Revelin's inquiry before he recovers. Bringing a hand to his face, to rub it. "You're a bit late. It's more 'were'." He corrects, his accent more of a mix of New York and what Irish influences his mother, aunt, and quite possibly Rod, bestowed upon him growing up. He gives a small smile, eyes glancing towards the item in Tom's hand, seeing if he recognizes the labeling. The hand lowers, "Uh. Hi. Um…" He pauses, waiting to be supplied a name.

"Revelin," says the other, extending a hand that has a reasonable amount of russet hair on the back of it for someone his age. "Tom Revelin. Just moved in - sort of." Tom grins broadly at Mike and then at the elevator. The grin becomes a smirk. "That had to be Shaw - so what does that make you, mate? Wait, don't tell me… Drago? What's with the cap? And let me guess - he got an embarrassing pic of you and wants it on the fridge or something?"

Mike's eyes glance down to the offered hand, pausing as he sees the hair before reaching a hand over to shake the hand of what looks to be a new neighbor. "Uh, welcome to the building, Rev." Shake completed, he drops the hand, looking to the odd guy as he guesses to which one he is. "Yeah." He pauses, reaching a hand up to tug off the cap, causing for his hair to tumble down to his shoulder, "Uh, just call me Mike." His hand clenches on the cap.

"Rev," Tom repeats the word, trying it out. "Not bad, as names go. I've been called worse." He fishes a texta out of his jacket pocket and holds it up with the cover of the Greysong CD, flashing another smirk at Mike. "So, Mike! I didn't know Greysong was gone - what happened? I've been… outta town. Scab an autograph off you? Got nothing better to do until that bloody elevator gets here." Tom grins ruefully as though elevators are something with which he usually bothers.

With the question asked, Mike frowns slightly as he glances over to the CD, giving a small nod as he reaches over to take the cover and then reach into his own pocket to retrieve a pen. "You've been out of town for a long while I am guessing." Mike replies, frown, although not deepening, still present upon the musician's face, "Or you're really new to the music." He scrawls out 'To Rev, welcome to the neighborhood - Mick D' on the cover before handing it back. There's a click of the pen before he slips it back into his pocket. "Do you know who Rod Donovan and Jack Mantley are?"

Another grin - there are a lot of those with Tom - appears on Revelin's face and he gives a nod while waiting for his autograph. "A bit of both. I get around a fair bit - kinda have to. Just spent a while in New Jersey with my Dad… He doesn't have any taste in music. That'd be Mum." He itches the side of his jaw briefly. "You Americans have some interesting music - yeah I know Donovan and Mantley, but not personally. They're Greysong too, right? Do they live here as well?"

Mike's frown twists into a smile but with a hint of something to it that's not that pleasant. "Yes and No." He answers, "They were the other half of Greysong and we all did share the apartment." He pauses, allowing time for the odd fan to soak it in before adding the part that gives it the No response, "Before they died."

Tom winces at the last comment and nods a little. "Well… I'm sorry to hear that. Jeez." He frowns. "How about I change subjects? What do you and Shaw do now? Makin' music still? Or do semi-famous celebrities have real jobs in amongst all the fame 'n glory?" He tries another grin, although it is a little lacklustre compared to his others.

Mike's expression remains about the same. "I have an album out and I'm working on another," he responds, "Wade hasn't b-" He pauses, brow furrowing, "He had to take a break from playing. But he works in sound production now."

Tom blinks. "So it's just you then? Now there's a shock, bloody hell." He glances toward the elevator, frowning. "Did you actually press the button to go up? I think that's why it's taking its merry time." Tom puts the pen and CD back into his backpack and snorts. "Well if Greysong is no more, then this might be worth a fortune someday."

Another group of artists enter the lobby from outside, splitting off as some head toward the elevator where Tom and Mike stand, and others take to the stairs. Tom stays where he is, looking at Mike. "I do some performing stuff when I can - live, or studio recordings - not that it really pays the bills. I have to act like a normal person for that."

Mike glances to the button for the elevator, seeing the lack of it being lit up to support Tom's assumption. Eyes narrow at the unlit button in accusation. "Oh bloody hell," He mutters, shaking his head, looking towards Tom, "Yeah, it blows." He agrees, "Before Greysong, I was doing convenience store jobs. Before the record deal we were starving but that wasn't that different from before." He shrugs, stepping aside as the newcomers go for the button "They don't tell you about that stuff." He glances towards the other means to go up floors, "You know, I think I'm going to just use the stairs." He takes a step towards it, looking to Tom as he does so, "See you around, Rev."

"Yeah, you too, Mike," Tom calls after him and stays near the elevator. "I think I'll stay here and hope that 21st Century technology prevails… let you know how it goes." As though in response to his comment, the elevator doesn't move. Other residents and artists are already moving toward the stairs. Tom smirks. "Stupid technology," he mutters, watching not the elevator but the crowd in the room.

Mike doesn't turn as he walks away but he does lift up his cap holding hand in a farewell wave. With the mass of people going into the stair well it takes a few moments for the door to close with a decisive thud.

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