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Polly Romantic: Above a certain vacuum repair joint is a two story apartment that Polly rents as her home and studio. It is one of those spaces that people live in incidental to the creation of their art. One enters right into the kitchen, beyond which is a small dining area. The rest of the first floor is reserved for what would be a large living area but Polly uses as an art studio. There's easels, canvases, lines of bookshelves, long tables with fabric arts materials, a computer for graphic design, and so on. There's also a TV against the wall and a large soul-devouring couch that to sit in is to know despair of ever standing again. Stairs lead up to the final floor of the apartment, probably to the bedroom and her music studio.
Despite the clutter literally everywhere, there is clearly a method to the madness. She's just run out of space to contain the full extent of her creative impulse's raw materials. Stacks of bins line the walls and shelves, each with labels explaining what they are to the casual glance. Marie Kondo would curl up and die in here while Polly patiently explained how each and every item in here does bring her joy, though. So there's that.
Jay will either roll with it or run screaming into the night. But artists gonna be artists. She dresses in what would be the quintessential little black dress if black was a color that featured in her wardrobe. It is indeed little, but instead of being black is a bright lemon yellow to match the new coloration of her hair. Pink was starting to fade, see. When Jay arrives, she peers out the peep hole, undoes the locks, and pulls open the door to admit him, "Hey! You made it! Not ghosting me is a bonus. So. A+."
Jeremiah Hamilton: Jeremiah was looking rather sharp himself in a pair of black dress slacks, shoes to match and a pale blue dress shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up to the elbows. He arrived complete with a pair of bags, one in each hand and one decidedly larger than the other, giving her a warm smile at the greeting. "Ghosting? I wouldn't dare."
Polly Romantic: "Were you to the same Los Angeles that I was?" Polly squints at him playfully before easing the door shut behind him and offering him a peck to the cheek of greeting. "You come bearing bags! Shall the lady inquire as to their provenance? Should I be getting some ice out?" She turns about and heads to the stove where the meal is cooking. The heady aromas of Indian cuisine fill the apartment. Sweet and savory in equal measure.
"You're in luck tonight. I ran down to the Reading Terminal and did some shopping. So we're having vegetable kourma, panak paneer made with tofu, bombay potatoes, and mango lassi for dessert. I didn't make the lassi myself, for disclosure. Oh. And there's naan in the oven." She pulls the lid off the paneer and sniffs it once, then drops the lid back into place. "Hope you're hungry, otherwise you're leaving with tupperware full of leftovers."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Ah, but we're no longer in that den of villainy, are we?" He replied with a smirk, which only widened at the peck on the cheek as he made his way inside.
"Ice would be good for one, yes." He moved to set down the larger bag in the nearest clear spot, a peek inside revealing the bottle of wine within, while the other was offered to the host once she had hands free for it. Inside was a stained glass candle holder, the colors as bright as the Elemental's fashion sense.
"Sounds fantastic. Do love going through there now and again."
Polly Romantic: "I wasn't sure if you ate meat, so I erred on the side of vegetarian. I figured if you had a food allergy, you'd have told me. Anyway. Indian cuisine has amazing vegetarian dishes. And you can get raw spices of every sort within walking distance of my place. I'm sort of spoiled for it." The little dining room table is already set for dinner, and she begins moving dishes from their cookware to their serving bowls with quite a bit of alacrity. Knows her way around a kitchen, clearly. She scoops ice into a serving bucket, uncorks the wine, and drops it into the ice to chill and breathe. Wine glasses are added to the spread, and then she gets to unwrapping the candle holder.
Jeremiah clearly did right here. Her expression softens, and she looks up to him with a big smile, "Jay, I love it. Thank you." A kitchen drawer is curiously overstocked with squat white tapered candles. Bunches and bunches of them. She grabs one, sets it into the holder, and sets that on the table, too, before lighting it. Perfect. "If you can help me carry the serving bowls over, we can get our grub on!"
Jeremiah Hamilton: "I do not, no. Which I'm thankful for, since I'm pretty adventerous when it comes to food." He nodded, smiling softly at her reaction to the gift. "Very welcome."
"Can do." He went about getting things moved to the table, admiring the obvious work put into the meal as he did so. "This all looks amazing, by the way."
Polly Romantic: "Thanks. The dress was on sale." Polly gives him a wink at that, then says with faux dawning of understanding. "Oh, the food. Yeah. That's also delicious." She slides into her seat at the table after setting down her own serving bowls. She considers a thought for a moment, then dismisses it, offering him over the basket of naan so that he can start with some on his plate. She goes for the kourma first. That, and a slice of the naan, too. "So how's your week been?"
Jeremiah Hamilton: "It does look rather fetching on you." He smirked as he took his own seat, claiming some of the naan for himself. "Pretty good, all told. Nothing too exciting, which isn't a bad thing sometimes. You?"
Polly Romantic: "I'm working on making friends with a girl that's been through a tough spot and doesn't much care for people paying attention to her. Spent a little time with Anneliese the other day, too. Had Ethiopian food that day. Took her to the market, showed her the Metropolitan bakery. Where they have the challa I like." She dips her naan into the grub and takes a bite, trying to hide how much she likes her own cooking, because it's rude. "Mmm. I need to have you over more often so I have a reason to cook like this more."
Jeremiah Hamilton: Jeremiah nodded along as he served himself some of the paneer, taking a bite with the naan and giving her a quick thumbs up with his free hand as he chewed rather than speaking with his mouth full. "I'm up for that, this in fantastic."
"Good luck with the friend-to-be, though. Getting through those self-imposed walls can be tough to do properly."
Polly Romantic: "Are you much of a foodie?" Polly inquires before spooning up some of the paneer for herself. Spinachy creamy goodness. "This is a good town for it, if you are. It's not LA. But it's also not LA. So." She grins wryly at that as she reaches for the wine bottle to pour for the both of them. A modest half glass. "It can be tough. But let the record show I am nothing if not persistent." She lifts her glass up and inquires, "What should we toast to?"
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Mmhmm, although not in the 'get high and mighty over an over-priced burger' sort of way. Cooking is an art in itself, and I enjoy seeing what other people do with it."
"So I've noticed." He replied with a small smirk, thinking a moment on the question as he held his own glass. "I'd say good food, good company and the start of a good friendship works. You?"
Polly Romantic: "I would drink to that," Polly concurs easily. She considers what more she might add, but ends up just smiling again a bit more brightly, "I think that covers it nicely, actually." She offers over her glass for a gentle clink before tilting her glass back for a dainty sip. The glass is set back down so that she can return to her meal. "Same. I love sampling cuisines from around the world. As you say, not the high and mighty hamburger version. More the 'find a simple dish, do it well' sort of version. But I have to do it on a musician's income, which is sort of how I fell into cooking. When you're on tour and sick of road food, the ability to create a home cooked meal in someone else's kitchen is ... a superpower, basically."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Here here." Clink went the glasses before he took a sip of his own, nodding as she continued. "Oh yeah, definitely. I'm not as good at it as I'd like to be, but I can handle myself in the kitchen well enough. I also have a good friend who's an immaculate baker, which doesn't help my sweet tooth in the slightest. She does some amazing work, though, and all self taught besides."
Polly Romantic: "Oof. That sounds like a danger to my already considerable thighs. I love baked goods. I'd just be eating cup cakes twenty-four-seven if I had access to that sort of person. I had to stop watching Great British Baking Show because I kept wanting to make the bakes myself." Polly is leaning on her palm with an expression of dreamy wonder. Cupcakes. Mmm. Cupcakes. "Self-taught won't get you a Michelin star, but I don't think anyone who does baking for the joy of it gives much of a care for that sort of thing. Food is a social thing. And a love language, in a lot of ways. Making it that self-important is problematic, if you ask me."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "I'll just say that I ride my bike as often as I drive to stay in shape." He chuckled, sitting back in his seat as she went off into dreamland for a moment. "Agreed. She does it to share with other people rather than any sort of acclaim, and enjoys seeing people enjoy what she makes."
Polly Romantic: She laughs at that, brightly and with gusty, "You'd have to! Maybe that's what I need to do. Get a street bike. I walk most places or do SEPTA, but the exercise wouldn't hurt. Most of my wardrobe is skirts, though. Might mean a trip to the thrift store." The things she will do for cupcakes. "She sounds awesome. I love people like that. Generous with their talents, I mean."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "If there's anything in particular you like flavor-wise let me know and I can bring it by next time."
"Same, and I try to do the same myself. I see it as a waste to horde what you have to offer if you can make someone else's life better with it, even if it's just giving them a reason to smile on a rough day."
Polly Romantic: "I am particularly fond of chocolate and peanut butter. Who isn't, right? But, yeah. A good chocolate cupcake with peanut butter frosting? Maybe some filling? To die for. Possibly to kill for, even." She grins at that and takes another sip of the wine. "True. Though sometimes giving them a safe place to cry on a rough day is the more merciful thing to do."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "I'll see what I can do." He winked in return, nodding as she continued. "Agreed. Being able to support people in general, in whatever way they need it, is a big thing for me. I focused too much on myself for a long time and I like being able to give back these days."
Polly Romantic: "What's that look like for you? I mean, obviously there's the cafe, which is as much a space for artists to showcase as for customers to drink at. And the studio. You strike me as though you might mentor talent, too. In that studio of yours. Do you also nurse baby condors? Is there a dolphin you rescued that calls you Uncle Jay? Cos I keep waiting for the shoe to drop with you, and you seem consistently decent." She toasts him with her glass adding, "A rarity in my dating life, I'll have you know."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "I do mentor other musicians, yeah, along with some work that I do with local LGBTQ youth groups. I was cut off by my family when I came out, and helping kids in similar situations is the least I can do."
"Glad to be the diamond in the rough, then." He smirked, raising his glass in a small toast in return.
Polly Romantic: "So rough," Polly chirps with a grin. She does adopt a sad smile at the comments about the youth groups and his family life. "I had the opposite experience. My parents were super accepting. Grew up in a Reform Jewish home out on the main line. I was super fortunate in that regard. All the more reason for me to help out those who didn't get that experience, though. Where do you help out? Maybe I can lean in a little?"
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Definitely lucky there. I got the whole 'deviant behavior' and 'shame to the family' spiel." He shrugged slightly, not too phased by it at this point. "Their loss, as I see it."
"The Attic Youth Center, primarily. We also do events at the cafe where the proceeds go towards a few different local charities."
Polly Romantic: "I'm in on the next one, for the record. All of them, even, so long as I'm in town and free. I love the wee gay babies. I don't understand parents like yours, I really don't." Polly rests her chin back on her palm again, her smile remaining easily in place as though her face just naturally assumes that position. "I've been to the Attic! They do great work there. Man. I really need to get more involved in stuff." Then she perks up a bit, "Ah! That's the catch. You make me feel like I don't do enough. I knew there was a catch." She is teasing, of course.
Jeremiah Hamilton: "I'll give you a heads up when the next one comes up. And agreed, on both counts. Being true to who you are is such an important thing, and the people who try to prevent that from happening or punish you for doing so are poorer off for it, as I see it. The world puts thick enough scales over our eyes to prevent us from seeing the truth, why don another set of your own making?"
He couldn't help but chuckle at the teasing, holding his hands up in that classic "you got me" pose. "Guilty as charged." He let them drop after a moment, still smiling. "We all do our part to make the world a brighter place, as I see it. Or should, at least."
Polly Romantic: She looks around her thoroughly cluttered home, festooned with color and light and art, then looks back to Jay, mirroring his hands raised gesture. "Guilty as charged." She finishes off her wine and sets the glass down, sliding it forward a bit to prompt a refill. "Being complicit in one's own oppression is never a good idea, no. I like your choice of words, though. Resonates with me, definitely." She leans forward onto the table, resting her arms on its edge to fix him with another smile, "So how do you like to unwind? Assuming someone wanted to get a Jay to let his carefully coiffed hair down, at least in a proverbial sense?"
Jeremiah Hamilton: Jeremiah spared a glance around the apartment as well, smirking a touch as he looked back to Polly. "Bit of a burgeoning film buff, so a good movie will usually do the trick...or a bad one that's worth giving the MST3K treatment."
Polly Romantic: "I've got Netflix, Hulu, Amazon, and Disney+. Plus a few extra channels on the Amazon account. I'll let you pick the movie, since you hung me out to dry on the cuisine choice." Polly then tilts her head a touch, "If you're done with your meal, I can get the lassi and we can retire to the couch-that-eats-your-soul for movie time."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "What you came up with was better than what I would've picked anyway." He offered a smile, eyeing the couch somewhat warily at that warning. "A perilous thing indeed..."
Polly Romantic: "It is deep and comfortable and you will wonder how you can get up once you're sitting on it. It's actually an incredible couch, you just won't want to leave it." Polly's explanation is offered as she hops up to her feet and begins clearing the table. "Do you want some to take back with you? I've got more than I'll be able to eat before it goes bad, so you're not denying me of anything."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Noted." He nodded with a chuckle, getting up to help clear the table as well. "Sure. Wouldn't want it to go to waste, good as it was."
Polly Romantic: A little bit of everything finds its way into various re-used plastic tubs. Something he can feel perfectly fine about not bringing back to her and just tossing into the recycling when it's finished. She puts it all into a brown bag and sets it in the fridge for him to grab when he heads home. The rest are put in her actual tupperware and stowed in the fridge. Then out comes the mango lassi, all cool and frothy and orange tinted. She offers him his glass before taking hers back to the living room to fire up the big plasma screen on the wall. Of course it's plasma! Great colors! "Got a movie in mind?"
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Got a few ideas..." He commented as he moved to join her in the living room, claiming a seat on the couch with his own glass in hand. "You feeling more action or straight comedy?"
Polly Romantic: "If they have any super queer comedies, that might be better." Polly's deliberate misinterpretation of the question is accompanied by a grin. "Action would be fine, too! I'm trying to learn more about you, which includes what you like. I'm sure whatever you pick will be fine, viewed through that lens." She slips her shoes off and sets them beside the couch before settling down onto it with her legs curled up beneath herself. True to her word, it's low to the ground and more or less envelops her in floofy comfort. Sure, the couch is technically broken, but it's still comfy as heck.
Jeremiah Hamilton: "There's always The Birdcage for that." He grinned in return, taking a moment to get settled on the couch as it slowly started to wrap around him. "I see what you mean about the couch...it is comfortable, though."
Polly Romantic: "Just relax and let it happen. It's easier that way," Polly jokes of the couch and its forbidden allure. "I could watch the Birdcage! Preferably the Robin Williams and Nathan Lane version. Aguidor Spartacus is my favorite." She grins aside to him and passes him the remote once Amazon is pulled up. The power is in his hands. "Are you going to mind if I cuddle up to you?"
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Oh, definitely. La Cage Au Folles is good, but you can't beat their version." The French of the title came out smoothly if Polly had an ear for such things, implying a familiarity with the tongue that went beyond the basics. "Not at all, no." He said with a smile, and even shifted an arm to let her scoot in closer while he fiddled with the remote, pulling up the movie with a little finagling.
Polly Romantic: "Ooooh. Il parles Francais, aussi. You are a man of mystery, sir." Polly promptly nestles in under the aforementioned arm, adjusting her skirt him a bit for modesty's sake before drawing her hair back from her face and setting her cheek against his shoulder. One arm curls up between them, the other snakes across his tummy for a proper snuggle. Not one for half measures. "I took French in school. I know enough to impress Americans and get drunk in Quebec."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "French, Spanish, and I can curse pretty well in Italian thanks to one of my professors at Stanford." Jeremiah grinned, letting his arm rest around her shoulders as she got comfortable beside him. "Took Latin in high school but most of that's faded out at this point."
Polly Romantic: "Aren't those all just the same language with different hats and color choices on the flags?" Polly is but a filthy American herself, but her humor at least has some benefit of world knowledge, mercifully. "But good for you. I never really got outside of the country, so I basically lost all my French. Use it or lose it, you know? Maybe you can speak it with me some and I can see if it comes back to me. I'd love to do some French torchsinger numbers, that would be fun as hell." She gets properly cozied in and smiles against his chest, content for the moment with the company and the movie she's seen eight billion times.
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Pretty much, yeah. Roma Eterna and all that." He nodded with a smirk. "I've stayed mostly stateside myself, barring one or two trips with my family when I was younger, although we moved a good bit because of my dad's work as an architect. He preferred being on-site for projects he designed and hauled us along with him."
"That would be pretty badass...not opposed to giving a hand there."
Polly Romantic: "Ma Vie en Rose, Je ne Regrette Rien... So many good choices, there." Polly ends up giving up on being upright and just slumps over into his lap instead, turning onto her back and hanging her legs over the couch arm. This way she can make eye contact with him while chatting and occasionally pay attention to the movie when the good bits are on the screen. (The bits with Aguidor Spartacus.) "How do you keep from getting rusty, then? Spanish, I imagine, is pretty easy to keep up on. But not the others, so much."
Jeremiah Hamilton: Jeremiah didn't mind suddenly being sprawled upon - what with being owned by a cat it was a regular occurrance - smiling down to Polly as she got settled. "Practice, mostly. Run into the occasional tourist who knows it, plus reading French-language newspapers and whatnot."
Polly Romantic: "I should have thought of that, yeah. Plus with YouTube now, you can basically stream NRJ right to your phone. Smart. That's good thinking, Jay." Polly folds her hands up on her stomach and gets properly comfy. Rather like a presumptuous cat, indeed. "In that case, yeah. I'll download DuoLingo and get back in the habit and maybe we can practice the next time we get together. Give me something else to look forward to."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "I try." He replied with a small smile, taking a sip of his drink before looking back down to the Changeling in his lap. "Sounds good to me."
Polly Romantic: "I'll just bet." Polly ends up reaching out awkwardly to the coffee table to snag her glass and lifts it equally awkwardly towards her face to suckle on the straw sideways out of her mouth. Drinking upside down is never not funny. Once she's done she sets it back on the coffee table, somehow having managed not to spill any in his lap. And then she actually pays attention to the screen. Because Aguidor Spartacus, pretty much.
Jeremiah Hamilton: Jeremiah smirked a touch as Polly reached for the glass, ready to give a hand if she needed it. When she managed it by herself he nodded, setting his own glass to the side for the moment. As he settled back into place his hand drifted towards her head to start stroking her hair but he paused, looking down to her with a small smirk. Better to ask than assume, after all. "May I?"
Polly Romantic: "Please," Polly enthuses with wide eyes, "I love having my hair played with. If your fingernails get involved in scalp scritches, though, you may have to clean up the Polly puddle you wind up with in your lap. I find it super relaxing." Polly then looks away from the television to catch his eyes directly, "Thank you for asking. I'm very big on enthusiastic consent. It makes me feel safe."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Noted, and right there with you, honestly." He smiled warmly as she looked up towards him, giving a little nod as he started gently running his hand through her hair. "Very welcome. I try not to assume that sort of thing."
Polly Romantic: "This does serve as a comfortable entre into discussions about us," Polly notes with another glance up his way. "Not that you have to agree with me on that count, or anything. But it does seem like a an easy time to segue into that sort of a conversation. Expectations, boundaries, limitations, hard stops, that sort of thing. If you're not feeling that, it's cool, though."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "I'm game for it if you are."
Polly Romantic: "I am, indeed, game." Polly figures this is a good conversation to have with her head not in his lap. And so she carefully rolls back up into a seated position with a bit of effort on her part. The couch. It eats your soul. "Where would you like to begin?"
Jeremiah Hamilton: Jeremiah let her get up without complaint, and even gave a hand as needed to make sure she didn't get et by the couch monster. "Expectations is a good place to start. I'm not seeing anyone else currently, either casually or otherwise."
Polly Romantic: "I've been on a date with Anneliese Kiel. She's in a relationship with someone. They live together. I hook up with my guitarist sometimes when we're on tour. But that's very much a road only thing, and is as much about keeping clean and not being lonely as anything else. And now you." Polly tilts her head to the side, watching him to see how this information lands. "I'm poly by default, by dint of lifestyle. Lots of travel, not much time to invest into a single place. Which has caused a lot of relationship flameouts over time, you know?"
Jeremiah Hamilton: He didn't seem particularly phased, and even smiled at the mention of Anneliese. "Annie's good people. Known her through Vertigo for a bit now."
"I can imagine, yeah. Since I left LA I've kept things pretty loose relationship-wise overall, so no issues on my end on that front."
Polly Romantic: "Focusing on you? And is that your goal here, with us? It's okay if it is, I just ... like I was saying. Consent is important. And you're a really sweet guy, Jay. Really sweet, honestly. The last thing I'd want is to step all of your wants and wishes." Polly leans forward for her drink and lifts it up for a slow sip through the straw. It's something to do with her hands, at least. "I'm just all about communication, you know? Talking about our feelings so we can resolve problems before they even are problems. I've been called over-emotional before because of it, but I'd rather worry too much about a partner's wants and needs than not enough."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Oh, right there with you. Better to diffuse any potential landmines before they even get planted, as it were." He nodded, pausing to take a sip of his own drink before continuing. "To be honest I'm not sure exactly where I want this to go yet since I'm still getting to know you. I do definitely want to get to know you, though...you've left quite the impression on me already."
Polly Romantic: "That's fine, too. If all I get out of this is a wicked cool gentleman friend with a studio I can play with? That's like seven sorts of win right there on the surface. You know?" Polly gives him a soft smile, reaching out her hand to josh his chin lightly with her thumb. "You are incredibly cute, though. I will admit that was my primary impetus for asking you out in the first place. You've just been consistently more and more great since then, though. So. Likewise. Good impressions all around." She is precisely the sort of person to fish in that final statement of his for compliments, but she doesn't. Her eyes are bright, though, pleased as punch about it. "Do you have things you want to get to know about me? In your head?"
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Indeed." He smiled in turn, chuckling at the nudge of his chin. "You're no slouch yourself, you know." There, compliment given without fishing, whether you like it or not.
"The usual things to start, although I'm pretty sure that your favorite color is 'yes'." He said with a grin. "What got you into music in general as well...it's always interesting to see what draws people to it."
Polly Romantic: "My favorite color is yes! You are paying attention." Polly drapes her arm along the back of the busted-ass devil couch and walks her fingers up his shoulder before leaving her hand there. An habitual flirt even now. The question lands harder than he has any reason to have expected. She glances up and away for several moments before letting out a tremendous sigh. "Okay. This is going to sound weird. But if we're doing this, there's no sense in me pretending I'm otherwise."
She glances back his way and clears her throat quietly. "Without getting too deep into the details, someone once used silence and darkness to hurt me. Punish me, really. It wasn't, like. I wasn't hurt, precisely? They meant everything to me and." She shrugs, her lips tightening into a small frown. "It was definitely a kind of psychological abuse. It left me really messed up. I developed synesthesia. Which if you don't know what that is, it's when music has color. Your mind hears a tone and that tone has a hue in your vision. Color and sound have been how I've dealt with it all. Turning my hurt into beautiful things. Music has been a compulsion for me ever since. It was just a hobby before then. Layering harmonies, arranging, re-arranging, massive orchestral backings. The richer the better, you know? And that's one reason I use so much technology in my work. Those perfect clear tones-- bright, perfect colors to me. With the raw guitar, the naked voice. Flecks in the perfection. Shimmers and sparkles and... yeah."
She puts on a brave face, having said all that, watching him as she takes a slow purposeful draw from her straw which helps conceal her nervousness.
Jeremiah Hamilton: The pause did catch Jeremiah unawares, giving her a little nod as she began. "Weird's pretty relative. Try me."
He remained quiet as she spoke, a frown forming at the talk of the abuse she suffered under. He reached up to put his hand atop hers on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. When he spoke his tone was sincere, giving the air that he understood, at least on some level. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. It's not an easy thing to face, let alone come out the other side as vibrant as you have; that takes some serious fortitude, and I have to applaud that."
Polly Romantic: "Thanks," she mumbles quietly in response to the praise. "So. To just get this out of the way? I'm afraid of the dark. Silence gives me anxiety. It's why I talk so much. Why I live here near Chinatown. Why I have two flashlights in my bag and spare batteries besides. And those chemical lightsticks, too. I've got tack on lights in the room, here, too. That turn on if the power goes out. Or at night if I turn off the lights. I sleep with the light on." Polly scratches at her cheek for a moment or two, then clears her throat again and renews her smile. "I have a therapist. It's a process. But that's why. Sorry to unload, but I prefer to lead with the bad so that when you discover my K-Pop Tumblr sideblog you'll just roll with it."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Totally understandable. I couldn't get behind the wheel of a car for a year after my accident, and you know how much of a pain in the ass that would be in LA." He offered a warm smile, chuckling at the end of her comment. "No worries. Like you said, open communication is important. I'm happy to know, so I know what not to do."
Polly Romantic: The fact that the 'I sort of understand' is followed by a reminder that he's been there in some sense does genuinely help her nerves. Her smile returns with more certainty and she nods her head in slow agreement. "I have great coping skills. I don't let it slow me down if I can help it, you know? My brain is just different. And it's pretty much only in those three specific ways. And all of this came as a result of it." She gestures at the numerous canvases leaning here and there, and the apartment more generally. "Anyway. How about you? Heh."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Not a bad thing, that." He looked around the apartment and the rainbow of colors about them before turning back to Polly with a small smile. "As far as music goes? It's always been a refuge for me, something constant that stayed with me as I moved from place to place. The fact that I was good at it helped, but the fact that I let that go to my head definitely didn't. Ultimately it saved me in a way, too, helping me to open my eyes in a way that I didn't know I needed until it happened. That's part of why I've leaned more towards teaching it, if only to spread that to other people."
Polly Romantic: "That's interesting," Polly says in a manner that implies she genuinely means it. "I mean. I definitely enjoy the act of creation for its own sake, and I do enjoy mentoring new artists and such. But-- and maybe this is a bit conceited --I thrive on the crowd. I love getting my hooks in them, making them feel what I feel. Or anything at all. All that emotion in the palm of my hand, you know? I used to get the jitters before shows, now I get them if I'm away from the stage for too long. Music changes lives! Art changes lives! Being a part of that is a heck of a thing, you know?" Her fingers on his shoulder walk up his collar and give it a little tug. "But that's the way of a lot of good things. They just sort of appear in your life and then you gotta sort out what to do about it."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "It is, and I do still enjoy it." He smirked, the tug on his shirt collar revealing a thin black leather necklace, the pendant still tucked under the shirt for the moment. "I get as much out of seeing others reach that same height, though."
Polly Romantic: When last we left our intrepid cutie patooties, Polly was getting her flirt on with Jay's collar while discussing the endorphin rush of a roaring crowd. Like you do.
"I've never tried. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. I'm still pretty enough to turn heads when I put effort into it, I've got a great vocal range, a distinctive voice, massive pipes. I'd really love to have that breakthrough album, you know? Or even just a single. Taste a stadium show. One tour like that. I figure that would be enough for me, you know? Then maybe I can mellow out down the road and take up producing. Mentoring talent, and such. Probably only have five years for it. Ten, maybe, on the outside."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "I follow you, yeah. That's what I went into it for, but fell into the trap of being more focused on the hustle than the music itself." Jeremiah nodded quietly, looking her over with an eyebrow quirked upwards. "Only five years? With your voice?"
Polly Romantic: "They don't sell your voice, Jay, and you know that. They sell your ass and tits. Can you name, off the top of your head, five female vocalists or female fronted acts that got their big break when the lead was over thirty-five? If you get your break before then, you can last. Obviously. But nobody is trying to discover the talent of woman a college aged boy isn't going to want to fuck." Polly gives him the 'tell me I'm wrong' look.
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Touche, as shitty as that is." The Warlock shook his head. "Always hated that aspect of it...hell, not just in music but in general. It shuts out so many people that deserve to have their voices heard."
Polly Romantic: "It's really, really shitty. So I'm going to give this my shot and if I fail at it, it's not going to be because I didn't have what it took and didn't apply myself. I realize it's mostly stupid luck and who you know, and I know I'm an amazing performer. It's not that I have something to prove, precisely. It's that I want to get there, write my name on the peak of the craft, and come back down with the awareness I did it. And then, maybe, I can set it down. Settle down. Mellow out. Maybe get a cafe and paint it green." Polly's smile is teasing at that last bit as she brushes her knuckle down his neck lightly along with the gentle teasing.
Jeremiah Hamilton: Jeremiah smiled as Polly spoke, the talk of signing one's name resonating far better that she would know. The tease at the end earned a chuckle, his arm settling around her shoulders once again. "Maybe. If there's anything I can do to help you reach that mountaintop, let me know."
Polly Romantic: "We should jam more. Mix some of it down. I can get a feel for how you are as a producer. If we gel, if you can get a sound out of us that we like and that's an improvement, maybe you can produce our next record. Though if you figure that'd be weird since we're dating, that's understandable. I've never had a problem with it, myself. But then again, I'm always the one picking our producers. So." Polly's shoulders shrug just a touch, her expression faux-innocent.
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Definitely down for that. After what we pulled off in the park, doing something in an actual studio would be worlds beyond." He nodded, smirking a touch in kind at the slight shrug. "Not an issue on my end. I'm pretty good at keeping business and pleasure separated."
Polly Romantic: "Likewise." Polly tilts her head back in thought for a moment, then amends, "Mostly. But where they've intersected, it was in the good way." She leaves it at that, giving his shoulder a squeeze before pulling her hand back so that she can more comfortable scoot herself in under the arm he's slipped around her. Her head and its bright yellow hair is settled back onto his shoulder comfortably. "Anything else you were keen on knowing about?"
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Always a plus when that happens." He smiled a touch, one finger lightly tracing a circle on her arm as she got settled beside him and he mulled over the question. "Is there a particular genre of music you like for the color palette, as it were?"
Polly Romantic: "Not really, no. Synesthesia is a bit hard to explain to someone who's never experienced it. But. When you read books, or articles, do you hear someone else's voice? Heck, do the characters have different voices in your head? That's kind of like it. Some synesthetes taste shapes with their food. Spices have a roundness, or a squareness, or a triangularness. Me, I come with my own audio visualizer. And in sort of the same way a visualizer will respond to any genre, so will my brain interpret any music. I don't even really mind it, it's kind of cool. And it makes ideas for music videos a lot easier, too. Visual inspiration is kind of right there, you know? When I want to mellow out, I listen to a lot of baroque classical. String concertos and such. Those long, open string notes with the vibrato are to die for. When I want to get amped, I put in some punk. You know? Same as most people." Polly finally falls quiet, though it's a brief silence. Mostly because she makes a happy little sound in the back of her throat at the touch to her arm. And because silence annoys her, as mentioned prior.
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Ah, okay...gotcha." He nodded quietly, sticking a mental pin in a possible experiment when he got home. "That does sound like it'd be cool to see."
He smiled at the sound of contentment, continuing the tracing as he spoke. "I can go back to playing with your hair, if you'd like...up to you."
Polly Romantic: Polly's eyebrows raise just a touch at the trailing offer as though in consideration. "I'll see you a hand in the hair and raise you. Two hands in my hair and you get a kiss out of the deal. Supplies are limited, so act now." Polly leans sloooowly aside to set her lassi glass down on the coffee table. Not even Aguidor Spartacus can distract her now, you see.
Jeremiah Hamilton: "I'd be a fool to pass that up." He set aside his own glass for the moment, dark eyes looking Polly over. Once she was settled back in he waited until she was ready before leaning in, pausing just before contact with a sly little smile on his face. "May I?"
Polly Romantic: She lets her hands creep up the front of his shirt and curls her fingers over his shoulders as he begins to creep in closer. Her eyes drift shut as the butterflies go all amok in her tummy and all the many hairs on her arms begin to stand on end. The question wins him a soft laugh and a charmed smile. If anything, that won him more points. "Mmhmm," she answers, modeling good date conduct by stating more explicitly, "I really want you to kiss me."
Jeremiah Hamilton: "With pleasure." He said softly before coming in for a proper kiss, kept light for the moment and with a hint of sweetness lingering from the lassi. His hands gently wove through her hair, as requested, resting there as the kiss commensed.
Polly Romantic: Whereas her hands slide up to brace either side of his neck, thumbs hooking under that ridiculous jaw line, there. She's content to let him set the tone, returning the kiss with her own lips cool and tangy-sweet from her own more recent sips of the dessert drink. And after a suitably pleasurable span of moments, she offers his lower lip the gentlest of nips and eases back again to flutter her eyes open and clear her throat primly. "Your thoughts? More bass, or...?" She gives him a thoughtful, though decidedly playful squint. "I was definitely feeling the high notes."
Jeremiah Hamilton: As the kiss broke off he lightly licked his lower lip where that nip had been placed, meeting her gaze with a small smile. "As was I...could use a little more bass, though."
Polly Romantic: "Let's try it again. Adjust the premix. We'll take it from the top." Polly's turn. She pulls herself in closer and draws herself up higher with the hold she has on his neck and shoulders and settles into the kiss from above this time, tilting her head just so so that her tongue can get the slightest taste of his lips. She makes a pleased rumble against his lips and breaks the kiss momentarily to note, "Mm. Yep. There's the bass kicking in." A comment that is prelude to, you guessed it, more and more enthusiastic kissing.
Jeremiah Hamilton: He smirked as she got into position, tilting his head upwards just so to meet her lips as she came in close. "Perfect..." He added with a smirk, closing the distance to gladly continue the barrage of kisses that followed.
Polly Romantic: Polly, as it turns out, really enjoys making out like a teenager in the back of the bus. Super a lot. Most especially with a responsive partner in crime. And judging from the flush in her cheeks and the general shallowness of her breath towards the end, she particularly enjoys doing so with Jay. But she eventually draws back again with some reluctance, cups his cheek with her palm, and states with their agreed upon communicative frankness, "So. This is amazing. And you are amazing. Literally everything about this has been, like. Fantastic? But I also don't want to mess anything up for that same reason. But." A brief pause. "My room is more comfortable, has a better air conditioner, and can even have me in there with you if that idea appealed." She takes a moment to adjust his collar to undo the mussing she'd done of it, smoothing her hands down his chest as she settles back down again. "This dress being entirely optional in that entire scenario."
Jeremiah Hamilton: While he may have 'mellowed out' in some regards Polly found a willing partner in crime indeed, the low thrum of that most Verdant of emotions well underway by the time they came up for air. "You can say that again." He said in a content sigh, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "I'm up for moving to the larger stage...less likely to get consumed by the couch, if anything."
Polly Romantic: "Mmhmm. If anyone's devouring you tonight, it's me. I called dibs." Polly winks at him as she says that, then leans in to press a final, searing kiss against his lips, then begins slipping away to roll up to her knees and sort of back off the couch rather than sit up. She uses his shoulders for balance and bracing, and once she's upright, she leans back to tug him up by his hands, hoisting him out of the couch by force. But at least he's free. Then she turns to open the door to the staircase leading up to the third floor, starting up at a jog. They're pretty steep, in the way of a lot of very old buildings in Philly.
It opens onto her music studio, space enough for a full session recording, though there's no separate sound studio. Just a smattering of audio mixers and decks adjacent to her PowerMac with all of its mixing software and the like. A bit dated, but highly functional. The back of the top floor has a wall with two doors, one no doubt leading the bathroom, the other to her bedroom. She goes winding her way through the instruments and cords and nudges her bedroom door open, flicking on the lights before stepping inside. It's the one room in the house that is clean to a neat-freak's standards. Stuff has a place, and that stuff is in those places. A bed, a small television relative to the one downstairs, a surround system scaled to the room's lack of size, a fairly impressive stereo system as befits an audiophile, a closet no doubt full of clothes in every color, and a giant fluffy bed with a Rainbow Brite comforter probably scored at a Goodwill or something, given its apparent age. The room contains no mirrors, though. The two large front facing windows have shades drawn over them to help keep the sunlight from cooking everyone alive. A window AC unit is killing it, though, keeping the room pleasantly cool and without humidity.
Jeremiah Hamilton: Whatever reply Jeremiah might have had was cut off by that last lovely kiss, a smile firmly in place as he watched her extricate herself from the couch in such a nimble manner, not minding being used as a support in the slightest. He took the offered hand and the assistance up with aplumb, staying close as they made their way upstairs.
He took in the layout of her studio area as they passed through it, nodding in quiet approval along the way. The sound system in the room earned a similar mark of approval, along with a smile at the comforter. "Very nice...definitely suits you."
Polly Romantic: She'd forgotten about the comforter. "Yyyeah. That's. Let's forget you saw that, shall we? Sadly, it's the only one clean right now, and king comforters are super expensive new." Once he's inside, she eases the door shut behind them both to keep the coldest air inside. She picks up the remote from her bedside table and turns on some music, turning the volume down so it's not drowning out conversation and the lack of conversation that seems about to ensue.
She heads back his way, turning her back to him and lifting up her wild curls of yellow hair to reveal the nape of her neck and the hook and eye of her dress, along with its zipper. "Care to do the honors?" She turns her head enough to the side to get at least some of him in her field of vision through the loop of her bent arm.
Jeremiah Hamilton: "True. I like it, though; it's true to you, and that's the important thing." He watched as she got the music handled, smiling as she came back to ask for his assistance. "Gladly." He met her gaze for a moment as she looked back towards him before moving to do just that, getting the hook undone and the zipper handled in short order.
Polly Romantic: A visible shiver at that, well deserved. Once the zipper is lowered to the small of her back, she turns back around to stand before him, her dress remaining decent only dint of her arms being employed in reaching for his collar to begin unfastening it gingerly, working her way down his chest one button at a time and in no particular rush. Once she's down to his belt line, she gives his shirt a forceful tug to finish off the buttons tucked in below. She spreads his shirt open with her hands and then settles her palms back onto his chest again, "If you change your mind at any point-- if we need to stop? That's perfectly okay. Okay? Just in case nobody's ever told you that."
Jeremiah Hamilton: The relatively slow speed didn't seem to bother Jeremiah in the slightest, with the Warlock taking a moment to remove the necklace around his neck as the opened buttons revealed it. The pendant was of a coiled brass serpent with a set of topaz eyes set into it, well tended to and likely rather reflective of the Torrent's hidden mien. He was decently built under that dress shirt, all told, that level of fit where one clearly worked out on a regular basis but didn't push into the overly-defined mess that some saw as ideal.
"I'll let you know, and let me know in kind." He said with a small smile, reaching out with his free hand to lightly brush her cheek. "I want you to be comfortable."
Polly Romantic: "I am. Or I wouldn't be invoking the escape clause on my three date rule," Polly chirps warmly, her voice with enough vocal fry to end it as more of a purr. With the disclaimer issued she does become more cavalier. When her dress begins to impede her work, she slips it off one arm and then the next, shimmying her hips enough to work the dress down to pool around her ankles. She's color coordinated her underclothes. Of course. Lemon yellow MyUndies. More comfortable than sexy, implying she wasn't joking about that three date rule plan. These are not the underthings of a planned seduction.
But, unphased by her oversight, she reaches for his belt and gives it a tug, working the toggle out of the loop and drawing it slowly out of its loops with percussive little snaps as it slips free of each. She tosses it to the ground to begin working on the front of his trousers, though she leans up to press a kiss to his lips in the process. In between kisses she inquires, "Got any requests, or is it fumble through and hope it all works out in the end?"
Jeremiah Hamilton: "Good." Jeremiah nodded, enjoying the view as the dress slid down but not in a lecherous way. The kisses were gladly returned, along with a smile at the question in between. "I say let's see where it goes...more interesting that way, usually."
Polly Romantic: "Usually in, and then back and forth until crescendo," Polly points out, lifting a finger to bap his nose with a fingertip lightly. "But I'm opened to improvisation." With another deliberate motion of the hand, she lowers his fly and then works his clothing down off his hips and to the floor. She then turns about before him and curls a finger, beckoning him to follow as she climbs up onto the bed. Her backside is rather prodigious if one is a fan of such things. And once she's found her spot on the comforter, she props her head up on her hand and pats the bed in invitation. Apparently dragging him there is not in the cards. At least this time.
Jeremiah Hamilton: "True enough." He smirked at the boop on the nose, freeing himself of the pants and shirt in short order with her assistance and nudging them off to the side before moving to join her on the bed. In doing so she would get a glimpse of a second tattoo on his right shoulder, an old-school sigil that might be notable if she was inclined to study such things.
Polly Romantic: There will time to trace curlicues around decorative body art and ask invasive personal questions about it in a couple of hours when they come up for air. Because once he's comfortably situated atop her decidedly comfortable bed, she rolls herself over and hops right onto his lap in a straddle, straightening up to give him a show as she peels off her comfy cozy yellow bra, tossing it aside. The scrunchy in her hair is pulled out and her mop of curls shaken loose and tossed about a bit. She has to blow it from her eyes, even, towards the end, which has her grinning.
Then she bends forward with her fingers at his cheeks to landmark where her lips are headed. And that is the start of how Polly got her groove back, as they say.
FTB
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