Apartment 6T
Mid morning

When a loud banging finally resonated through Lala's ears, she jumped up straight with a loud intake of breath and immediately started spouting nonsense. "He came unto me first! I swea—ugh. What" she finally looked around, situation making itself clear. Well, no not really... Ok, so, at least she was home. She looked down at herself, one stocking on, (thankfully) knickers and a t-shirt that smelled like really shitty AXE that definitely wasn't hers. Because, ew, she was definitely a Star Wars girl. The blasphemy, Star Trek on her body. Speaking of ew: toothpaste. It called to her. She was positive something had crawled into her mouth and died a gory horrific death while in there.

The sound resurfaced again through her half-asleep-still-drenched-in-alcohol-brain and she flailed around for a couple of seconds, her feet catching into her duvet, only to find herself having an eye-to-eye with her carpet the second one of her legs hit the floor. "Oh my shit, my head is pounding harder than a sailor on shore leave" she muttered as she half crawled, half walked towards her door, one hand rubbing at her temples with futile dedication. "HOLY CHEESUS ON TOAST, stop the murder of my door! I'm com—" she yelled, just as her toe violently met the corner of her coffee table. "Ouch! Mother fuck" she spouted, as she continued her voyage through the course obstacle race that was her apartment, only... skipping on one foot, while holding the other with her hands.

"WHA—" she started raging, as she was opening the door, only to be cut short by the view of her BFF standing in front of her door. "Hel-lo?" she said, eyeing Ellie skeptically, door still half closed. "Why are—oh... Oh! Oh shit, it's Sunday? It's the day?! Ha ha. Ha" she laughed nervously, throwing a look behind her at the seemingly hurricane addled apartment. With one last look behind, Lala cringed and opened the door widely sighing as she motioned for Ellie to come in. "Welcome... home, I suppose? He he" she scratched her head nervously as she felt one of her eyes twitch.

"It's not messy, I swear" she suddenly blurted, hands going around to encompass the whole of it. Clothes everywhere, empty boxes of takeout scattered all around, empty bottles of alcohol, snugly seated between the folds of the couch, a mountain of dishes in the sink, furniture looking out of place. Like the coffee table, which was currently in the middle of the entryway. Lala gulped. "Everything is strategically placed so that if anyone tries to kill me in my sleep, they'll trip over everything and die a horrible death, ye get?" she tried, smiling nervously and shrugging her shoulders innocently.

"OKAY FINE" she again almost exploded, raising her hands up guiltily. "I forgot" she grunted, looking at her feet. "I went out for lunch with some friends, but then they dragged me around everywhere, and even tho I said I was not gonna drink a lot. Ye know, I met a guy and—Well, eventually we were basically getting it on, on the dance floor. People kept buying us drinks. It really only encouraged us!" Lala said really quickly and almost defensively, stopping to take a deep breath and cringe at herself. "And that is why I shouldn't be allowed to do Four Horsemen shots without adult supervision" she nodded fervently. "Because I go home with a beast like that. But, holy mother of cows... goddamn him and his magical penis" she said around an awkward moment of... blissful recollection. Mortified, Lala bit her lip looking awkwardly and slightly apologetic at Ellie.

After a few seconds she shook her head, together with almost half her body and groaned. "On second thought... Yes. I did it. No. I am not sorry. Yes. I will do it again. But that's why you love me?" she mostly asked, rather than stated as she took a few careful steps towards Ellie. "Right, roomie?" she grinned brightly, and snaked a hand around Ellie's shoulders.

outfit

Ellie grinned at the door, her fist pausing mid-knock as a shout on the other side of the wall acknowledged that she now had Layla’s attention. Finally. The St. James girl had begun to chastise herself (just a little) for not copying the key before today. She had been a half-dozen knocks away from marching upstairs and asking Sander to pull a Lala and let her climb through his window to get into Layla’s flat. She was thrilled that she would be able to save up the bossy tone and batting lashes for when she really needed a favor (which would surely be at some point today, beginning with lunch breaks and ending with rearranging furniture).

When the door opened and Lala’s head poked out, Ellie’s grin widened. One of the two coffee cups floating at her shoulder zoomed forward, a sort of peace offering for showing up before noon. But her smile faltered a bit when she realized that Lala had forgotten— and then un-faltered when she reminded herself that she could always count on Lala to be Lala. “It’s the day,” she confirmed as the hot coffee nudged at her friend’s shoulder, trying to weasel it’s way into the apartment and into her hands.

The couple of boxes at her ankles were not meant to fool anyone. It had taken hours of charms— sprawled out over several days— to get everything ready for the big move. Unpacking would be the bigger challenge. If Ellie had a lot of stuff, it was surely matched by Lala’s own collection of belongings. The amount of cleaning, rearranging, cleverness, and arguing with charmed drawings it would take to really move in would be impressive.

The door was flung open and Ellie set her gaze upon the mess that was there to welcome her. Her first instinct was not to break out the cleaning potions, but to find her camera. Before and After photos, anyone? But she willed herself to resist— there would be time for that— and with her wand, pointed at a black platform heel. “That will definitely take someone out.” She stepped inside, maneuvering carefully around various obstacles, and set her own coffee down on a free bit of a table.

If too much information— that was what the muggle acronym meant, right?— made some people shy, Ellie often found it entertaining. The tale of the dancing, drinking beast with the magical bits solicited a laugh from Eleanor, who rolled her eyes and and threw her own hand around Lala’s shoulders in return. “That’s part of it. The other part is that you paint little people on your walls and let them insult your guests when they’re in the washroom.” If she was half-joking because she had argued more than once with more than one of the drawings, she also knew it came with living with Lala. Ellie didn’t think it would be so bad.

She turned back toward the corridor, wand still in hand, and accioed her belongings. “Have we figured out where we’re going to put my bed?” That was a good place to start, she supposed. Also, clearing the path to the other side of the flat.

Lala finally noticed the cup and grabbed it from midair with big eyes and an awed expression. "Oh sweet baby Jeebus. I love you! I love you so, so, so much, you have no idea" she babbled, hurriedly pulling the lid of the cup then wrapped her hands snugly around the cup. She almost stuck her face in the cup and inhaled deeply, letting out a small whimper. "You lovely, adorable, little thing" she cooed at the cup of coffee before she sipped slowly, almost moaning as the liquid hit the ceiling of her mouth.

She eyed the shoe Ellie was pointing at from the corner of her eyes and wheezed into her coffee. "It certainly has" she said cryptically, eyebrows going up, head bobbing up and down slowly. Heels were very dangerous little weapons, especially if the wearer had kicking skills, as well. And Lala did, thank you very much.

"Oh, come off... They're not so bad" she said at Ellie's remark on her friends. And by friends Layla meant the practice creations that filled her entire apartment walls. They were just like enchanted portraits, only a little bit more limited and because of the lack of frames, could easily go anywhere in the apartment. "Rupert" who just happened to be a zombie, with no functional jaw and therefore who lacked the ability to actually talk "is absolutely awesome" she huffed, waving her hand at Rupert, who groaned and waved in return from the kitchen wall. "Tho, I'll give it to you about Mario, he's a perv and a creep" she shuddered, looking around for the famous video game plumber, who usually hid and smirked creepily from behind some furniture. "I swear to God if he peeps in the shower again, I'm throwing solvent at him" she groaned, taking another sip.

She turned at Ellie and watched her for a second, raising her eyebrow, then she looked at the holographic clock on the ceiling of the living. She frowned and mumbled something unintelligible to herself. Just then there was a knock on the open entrance door and the sound of someone clearing their throat. "You're late, Grumper" she instantly snapped at the new guest. "What? You didn't hear the pounding from hell on me door, or what?" she huffed turning around to walk towards the left door out of the three at the back of the living room.

Sander muttered something about crazy ass artists and nazi neighbors as he stepped into the apartment, taking his hands out of his pockets and approaching Ellie from behind. He placed them around Ellie's waist and pulled her towards him. With his chin he pulled aside her hair and placed a soft kiss on her neck. "She completely forgot, didn't she?" he asked, chuckling quietly into her skin, as he rested his head in the crook of her neck, watching the door through which Styles disappeared through. They could hear mumbling and loud noises coming from the room, also various pieces of clothing flying from that room and into the open door across it. "I still think this is not a good decision" he grumbled into her skin, turning her head to the side with one hand to get better access at her mouth and kissed her softly.

"Ugh, fuck you, guys. No! No bloody PDA in common spaces" Lala interrupted loudly, with complete revulsion. "Ew, ew, ew, I need mind bleach and also I think I might've vomited into my mouth a bit. Ugh" she shook her head, turning around to the sounds of Sander's chuckles and entering the room again.

"Well?! Are you coming?!" her head popped out the door with a frustrated expression.

Coffee brought people together. Ellie occasionally wondered what might happen if all of the coffee in London disappeared, but it was not a pleasant thought to linger on— though it would be brilliant to photograph. She grinned in appreciation as Lala confessed her love (both to Ellie and the coffee), and looked around for a clear path to the other side of the living room. They would make it work, heel traps aside.

She followed Lala’s eyes to Rupert, the waving zombie, and lifted her own hand in slow greeting, perhaps a bit wary. Keeping their names and personalities straight was part of the problem. As long as Rupert didn’t spy on Ellie in the shower, she supposed all was well. The perv one, though… The St. James girl’s face fell a bit, a frown twisting in place upon her babyish visage. She’d thought too soon about the shower, and here was Lala confirming her fears. “You’ll show me where the solvent is, right?” She thought she caught sight of the little man bobbing behind the couch, but she might have been imagining it, because he was there and then gone. Solvent or hexes, he wasn’t getting a free show.

Ellie was greeted by the source of the knock even as Lala addressed him. Ideas of how to distract certain charmed drawings while she was bathing were pushed aside to make room for the tall, muttering, wonderfully familiar figure behind her. She bit her lip in a smile and shrugged against him, sliding her hands to cover his. “She only needed a little reminder.”

Ellie watched Lala cross the room and disappear behind a door. She reached up to brush Sander's cheek, but it became a poke to jaw, prompted by his next words. Doing her best to eye him menacingly from the side, she countered. “Please. It’s a brilliant idea.” The bossy indignation was weakened slightly by his kisses. “Can you imagine another pair of roommates you’d rather bake for at three in the morning?” It was going to happen, even if he didn’t know it yet. She’d barely turned to meet his lips, her smile widening still as she caught his eyes, when Lala resurfaced from Ellie’s soon-to-be-room and caught them.

Ellie looked over her shoulder in one quick glance before returning her gaze to Sander, with raised brows of oops. She pecked him quickly, sweetly, one little kiss before pulling back, tugging him along through the path, magicking the boxes with her free hand. “We’re beautiful and you love us,” she called to Lala, louder than was necessary, and with a laughing edge in her voice.

They made it safely along the path to the spare bedroom (where just outside the pile of Ellie’s best friend’s belongings was now considerably higher) and the boxes landed with soft, ceremonious thump on the floorboards. It was perfect really, a good, cozy space that she could make her own. Ellie dropped Sander’s hand and crouched down to dig through the first box, pulling out her broom, a lamp, and a huge pile of sweaters that became unfolded as she set them down. And that was only the start. “Happy hunting,” she told the pair of them.

A photo album was next, and despite the hugeness of the task at hand, Ellie couldn’t help flipping through it. She found a photo of herself and Lala on New Year’s eve, with a wild crowd in the background. They were all donning feathery boas, elaborate hats, and eclectically decorated pairs of 2010 glasses— a pair of which were next out of the box. The charm by now was feeble at best. She tossed them at her friend with a smirk. “Remember the man who sold us these? I think he was a hundred and on mushrooms.” Real magical mushrooms.

“I guess we should do the heavy stuff first…” Or almost first. The little things at the top of the box were already starting to crowd the wall with the door. She looked into the depths of the first box and poked around with her wand. “Accio bed.” The mattress was many times the size of the box, but it didn’t matter: it floated out easily, narrowly missing the ceiling before turning on its proper side and hovering over the floor. “Against that wall?” She asked the pair of them before magicking it there. Once it was more or less in its new home, she enlisted Lala and Sander to help her push it around a bit, make it just right. She pressed the backs of her knees into it, sliding it closer to the wall. Turning to survey they were work, she added, “Do you think the nightstand will fit there if we if keep it like this?”

When her hands came atop his, he carded his fingers with hers and sighed pathetically pleased into her neck.  His head leaned into her touch, despite the poke and he merely snorted and shook his head a little. He supposed it could be a good idea... with Ellie here, hopefully, that meant Lala wasn't going to wake them up at 4AM anymore, just to tell him and Les about the epic shag she had just had. Jesus.

Sander muttered at her words, not exactly in agreement, nor disagreement. He was already forced to bake for Lala from time to time, but that was okay, 'cause on the days Her Majesty, the crazy bitch, felt like it, she cooked for them. Sander didn't have nearly enough time to make actual home-cooked meals, and Les had absolutely no business being in his kitchen. Not since that time he burned half of it, using the fuckin' toaster. Their next kiss, obviously, was interrupted by Lala's screeching and Sander honest-to-God growled at her. To which Lala merely rolled her eyes and muttered something about proto humans and you friggin' homo erectus. To be honest, he was merely surprised she even knew what that was. Huh.

He smiled fondly at Ellie's peck, pressing her cheek to her lips, grunting when she pulled away from him. Couldn't Lala take a walk?

"Beautiful, yes. Love you? You're both so, so deluded" Lala yelled, muttering something while loud bangs came from the room, Ellie's room. Sander grabbed the box that Ellie wasn't levitating and followed in her steps, stumbling once or twice because of Lala's shit being scattered everywhere. He eyed a pair of knickers thrown in the door of Lala's room and watched it with a confused, strained expression. "Did you use protection?" he suddenly blurted, his brows saying a lot... something between actually worried, too much information and annoyance.

"Oh. My. God! Sander! What the fuck?! Boundaries!" Lala screeched in a high-pitched voice, scrambling out of the room and across into hers to pick up the pair of knickers and throw them somewhere where, thankfully, neither could see them. Sander's expression only became more pained, and his lips pursed and he muttered something, then came back to glare at Lala, which is when she finally relented, rolled her eyes, and scowled with a barely human noise. "Cheesus... Yes, father, I did. Do you wanna give me the talk now? Should I grab a pen and paper?" she mouthed at him and Sander merely raised his middle finger in salutation

He dropped the boxes in the room, distastefully eyeing the walls that were basically just a huge fairy tale forest scene, or something. As Lala was screaming a really loud OMG at whatever picture Ellie was showing her, Sander shook his head and looked around the pretty spacious room, attempting to figure where everything should go. "Ah dude, but he was so funky, I STG , that dude as my grandfather or summit. Imagine the raves, man" he heard Lala say between chuckles.

Sander nodded, and was near Ellie in a second, helping her out with the mattress, smiling at her when she was pleased with its location. He gently prodded his girlfriend out of the way and towards Lala, summoning the nightstand into his hands and placing it right next to the bed, without magic, because, why the hell would he do that? Apparently it fit, just fine. Lala snorted and rolled her eyes and muttered something about manly men and he turned to glare unimpressed at her. "I'll deal with the furniture, just tell me where and what. You deal with the... rest of your things" he muttered, really just wanted to say the rest of your crap, because women tended to have so much useless crap. But Sander knew what was good for him, so he shut up. He gesticulated towards the boxes with one hand and scratched his head with the other, expecting instructions.

As sad as Ellie was to cut off the kisses, she was excited about moving in— and there would time soon, lots of it, to fool around with Sander, who was now her neighbor. Not having to apparate to see her boyfriend was one of many perks of living with Lala. She would obviously have to put together a little gift basket for the guys upstairs. Mostly Sander, because Lester didn’t need anything else to add to the tornado on his floor, which was rivaled only by Lala’s.

“Ummmm, if you don’t love me, why did I agree to move in with you?” She challenged, making her way to the room. She paused only to follow Sander’s attention to the knickers outside of Lala’s room, and grinned. Before she could add she’s not dense, the owner herself spoke up, defending her own honor. With Sander’s way with words and Lala’s random outbursts, an anatomy lesson and sexual safety class might take twelve years. Luckily, they had an understanding about protection.

“Imagine the Christmas gifts,” Ellie continued, echoing Lala’s sentiment about the man having grandfather-potential, even if she loved both of her own grandfathers. Without Sander there, it would likely take them twice as long to unpack— there was a story to half of the little trinkets in the boxes. That wasn’t even counting her photo albums and cameras. (The latter of which she’d purposely left in the box for now).

As he helped her with mattress, Ellie tugged a bit at the bottom of his shirt before prodding past him to make sure things looked good from the other side. No one could blame her for thinking of curling up with him on her bed in its new home. But now was not the time, and she didn't want to kicked out for PDA before she even moved in properly.

Ellie suppressed (not very well) a grin at Lala’s words, but she was more than glad to have Sander around to help. “It looks great there! Thanks,” she said, brushing his wrist with her finger tips as stood on tippy toes to admire it from behind his shoulder. “You could start a moving company with your brother,” she teased. "Sander and Lester Move Mountains of Girls’ Things.” But then there was the Lester angle, and all of the things he might do with girls’ things. “Never mind, I’m vetoing that idea.”

She returned to her feet, turning back toward the boxes. Soon enough, the nightstand would be decked out with all of the necessities— alarm clock, lamp, pictures frames, random coins and jewelry and rolls of film. She summoned the lamp and a vase from the boxes' depths, carrying both over to the nightstand and setting them down carefully, leaning back to decide on the positions. Now it just needed some flowers. And all of those other things.

Next came an upholstered board weaved with criss-cross ribbon and stuck with little pins, perfect for for photos, lists, notes, reminders, stickers, and ticket stubs. The box of things she’d carefully removed from it before packing it were set down on the floor beside it. She could redecorate it later, but choosing where it might go on the wall was the real mystery. “Maybe there,” she pointed. “But the coat stand might need to go there.” If there was already one where there should be, by the front door, it didn’t matter. Ellie needed another for all of the coats she’d collected. They seemed to grow exponentially in number each season. Lala would understand the dilemma.

"So I'll have food in my fridge. Honestly, Ellie" she chided with a snort. It was actually true, but she was also her BFF, tho at the moment she really, really didn't need that particular little bit of encouragement. There was that part about Lala needing her privacy once in a while, so she was a wee bit worried about the whole thing, but she was sure it was going to work out. Unless... the whole PDA thing was an actual thing. Ugh.

While Sander did his whole I am man, hear me roar thing Lala was judging so hard. Seriously, this guy was like... so whipped it was halfway between adorable and such a complete fail. When Ellie mentioned Sander and Les starting a moving company and then continued to spout what was obviously not a very well-thought nonsense, Lala's eyes went wide with panic and she started shaking her hands, crossing them in a huge no. "Jesus, Ellie. No! Think of Les. Yes, veto, I'm vetoing, you're vetoing, everyone is vetoing that idea. Say no to Les ever touching a chick's belongings" she laughed so hard, she actually snorted once or twice.

She watched the rest of the moving, nosing in Ellie's boxes and asking about this and that for a while, before there was talking again and Lala raised her head from some box. "Creepy Venus does all the coat hanging you could need" she explained perfectly serious, and a bit quizzical, because who didn't know Creepy Venus by now? She pulled on Ellie's sleeve and dragged her to the door of the room, leaning outside of the door frame, taking Ellie with her. She raised her other hand and pointed at the Venus de Milo replica standing right in the entrance hallway next to the tall, pink frame mirror with more sass than anyone could handle.

The sculpture had been commissioned from Leon, years and years ago. It was a Venus de Milo replica alright... Except it was carved out of black granite and it had her arms, and not just two of them, but actually six. It also had the face of a certain horrifying type of weeping angel. What? Whovians unite! It was creepy like fuck and when it took your coat it also had the nasty habit of scaring the shit out of you, but Lala loved her. And if she got too glowery, and nasty, there was a a piece of red fabric hanging from around her hips, with which you could blindfold her and she'd calm down in a moment... after some really horrifying noises.

She pulled Ellie back and watched her intently as Sander dealt with more furniture. "Okay. I think we need to talk clothes and closet space" she said with a very serious expression. This would be the biggest issue, 'cause they both owned a shitload of clothes and Lala's were spilling from her bedroom into... well, everywhere. "If your wardrobe can't deal with your clothes, I've no idea what we're gonna do. I mean, I ran out of space in my wardrobe two months after I moved in" she explained with her arms crossed.

'"If you're Grinch boyfriend talks to the hag" she meant Dorothea, the landlady, which Lala was 140% sure was actually a hag. "He—no, Grinch. Shoo, I didn't mean you." Hearing his name, her lilac point Scottish Fold was currently attempting to climb her. With his claws. "Oh, fiiiine" she relented, picking up the tomcat and burying her face in his fur for a second, giggling. When the cat had been subdued she raised her head back to them, still scratching at his ears. "So. I was was saying, if proto-human over there talks to the hag, we might be able to get an under-the-counter permit for an extension charm" she said, almost whispering afraid Dorothea might be able to actually hear them. And as far as Lala knew, that could be a very high possibility. That woman was actually Satan and it had minions and ears everywhere.

"Zero went about it through the right channels to get his extension cupboard, and she charged him so much, you've no idea" she scowled, muttering something and stomping her feet really loudly, just to be sure. Zero probably wasn't even home, but—bah, details. "But for some reason - I assume it's because Sander talks nasty old hag - she actually likes him, so he might get us a cheaper, less annoying way to go about it" she beamed at Sander who had currently dropped everything he was doing and attempted to murder Lala by glaring.

"No" Sander said before Ellie had even had the chance to actually speak, still doing a menacing complicated thing with eyebrows. Lala thought there should be communication studies done on his eyebrows. Fascinating. "I mean—if you want?" he quickly reiterated, this time looking at Ellie with that ridiculous lost puppy face of his.

Ellie laughed in an eye-rolly uh-huh way. Food in the fridge. It was a legitimate reason by any stretch— snacks were important— but she knew it wasn’t the only one. She and Lala fit together like Sander and frowns. Other pairs of roommates in the building would surely be jealous.

Lala wasn’t shy about her opinion on Ellie’s (or the Blackwells’) hypothetical movie company, either. It was apparently agreed that Lester could keep his day job, whatever that was. “Give me a while to come up with a better plan." Anything to lightly push Sander’s buttons and then corner him into a smile.

“I don’t think Creepy Venus needs my bathrobe or five million purses,” she argued, feeling quite reasonable. If Ellie didn’t think a coat stand needed a face, she could get behind it constantly staring down Mario and company. They wouldn’t even need a guard dog. She looked at Lala as if to ask, you do know it has creepy in its name, right?. It wasn’t a question that needed to be posed, not out loud. Creepy decor was another reason she loved Lala. And yet. “What if it scares me when I come in in the middle of the night and I hex it?” Maybe she hadn't thought this roommate situation through. Creepy Cracked Venus might not fly.

Closet space was entirely different dilemma, one that could spurn a wizarding war. Lead by witches, of course. “My wardrobe is like that one in that film about the witch with a sled full of desserts.” Witch was defined loosely in this instance. Eleanor recalled very weird looking centaurs, too. What would the muggles come up with next? The point was, the wardrobe was roomy, thanks to charmswork. “Minus a whole second world. It’s not that big,” she decided. "I might need a bit more room.” Like her very own closet. “And you might come searching for a sweater at a terrible moment,” she pointed out, taking up her end of the debate with a bossy tone that seemed to match Lala’s crossed arms. Another good reason they were friends.

She didn’t know or had completely forgotten what the— no doubt muggle— reference Grinch meant; she had come to associate the word almost exclusively with Lala’s cat. To Ellie, it was a name. Sander did seem to know, which was thoroughly unsurprising and slightly exasperating, but Ellie was so used to these two by now (and curious by nature) that she considered these throw-away references part of their charm. It was not as if Sander were trying to explain “Google" with single syllable definitions again.

Ellie’s eyes settled on the cat for the moment, as Lala elaborated on the hag plan. Oh, that hag. Her eyes flickered up to Lala’s again and she smiled. “No chance you want to put the charm on the closet in your room so you can squeeze all of your stuff in, right?” Her smile was bright and affectionate.

She turned to Sander, continuing to grin, and looking a little more amused. “Do I have to worry about your other girlfriend?” She asked. “I thought I was the only one you offered free Raspberry Dacquoise.” But if his distinct charm earned Ellie a bigger closet… She decided to take great advantage of that face. “It would be brilliant if you could put in a word for us.”

"Nobody's starting any company" he grumbled, and turned around to glare at them both. Whatever his relationships with Ellie, he was not going to name feelings, because... no, not yet, but when these two got together it was a rather terrifying affair. Sander gave a little shudder as they got talking about Creepy Venus. It wasn't so much the statue itself, but its face. His little sisters and his mother were ridiculously obsessive about that show. He never understood the appeal.

As he maneuvered another piece out of a box, he gave a little huff and muttered a "Blast it to bloody hell," under his breath, shaking his head a little. He really did hope someone would end the life of that abomination one day. He would've done it himself ages ago, if it wasn't Leon's creation. It was his art and it wasn't his fault that Layla was batshit crazy. As the conversation moved to clothes and closet space, he made himself small and quiet and continued about his business. You did not get between women and their horde of useless crap.

"Narnia, Chronicles of Narnia" he said softly, with a little pleased chuckle, finally something he understood and actually enjoyed. He'd read the Chronicles of Narnia to his little sisters, each with her own favorite and demanding the occasional rereading.  And Lala always complained that she found Narnia in her closet when looking for clothes. He snorted a little, almost dropping what he was holding and clearing his throat quickly to cover for it.

"What you think, there isn't already an extension on it?" he heard Lala say almost disbelievingly as they continued to bicker about... sweaters. Sander thought there was something deeply wrong with their priorities, but he was wise enough not to share his thoughts. Ever. When the mentally unstable Styles called him Grinch he turned around to stare unimpressed at her, showing her how many fucks he did not give about her word choice. But then there was a cat in her arms, the one he actually liked and that adored him back - as opposed to Cat, Lala's demon spawn who simply clawed at him 80% of the time. He did a complicated thing with his eyebrows and let out a small huff, turning her back to them. Must resists temptation.

He ignored Lala and her idiocies, until she mentioned the words nasty old hag and then he was just exasperated and he turned with nostrils flaring to fervently deny her. But then he realized that this wasn't all for the compact annoyance by the name of Lala, but also his... girlfriend. He quickly set the matters straight and offered to deal with the landlady if that's what she wanted. When she called Madam Dorothea his other girlfriend, he thought he was going to implode on the spot, and he flushed deeply, spluttering about with the box in his hands and opening his mouth like a fish for a couple of seconds.

"I don't—she's not—I'd never" he puffed his cheeks and let out a loud breath through his nostrils, realizing she was probably messing with him and he blushed even harder. "I'll talk to her" he gritted through his teeth, then hmph-ed softly. He cleared his throat and ignored Lala having a laughing fit while holding her stomach and pulling at Ellie's shirt in desperation. "What else can I do?" he asked glaringly.

As Sander confirmed that the moving company dream was definitely never-to-be, Ellie humorously decided that Lester might not be the only reason it wasn’t a good plan. Sander was brilliant at making cakes and pastries… and ridiculously photogenic… but he wasn’t exactly a people person. And people could get chatty when you were throwing around their boxed belongings and shuffling their furniture (case in point: Ellie).

He continued to heave furniture around while Ellie and Lala discussed closet specifics. Sander provided the name Ellie was looking for, Narnia, and she nodded fervently. But it was becoming apparent that Narnia had nothing on these two. They might be the reigning clotheshorses of London.

Ellie grinned and rolled her eyes— lovingly— at Lala’s confession, which was apparently supposed to be common knowledge. “I guess two illegal closets is pushing it.” They would have to suck it up and ask. Or make Sander do it. Which was a much better idea. She stared him down, watching him watch the cat, knowing that the cuter and fluffier the animal, the weaker in the knees he went. Would she use that to her advantage? Always Never. “Do you want to have a cat break?” She asked, raising brows, waiting for him to cave. He seemed to be resisting, though, at least without her prompting. "This place already looks brilliant.” She glanced around, hands on her hips. The closet would take some work and good fortune, but the furniture was coming together nicely in the space, as if Ellie and Lala had some cosmic connection that had caused the Styles girl to pick the perfect apartment for her future roommate. She’d have to repay her by hosting a party.

Ellie smiled at his offer, reaching out to gently squeeze the lost fish face he was making over her joke. “I know you wouldn’t. She’s not really your type.” If Sander had a type. Maybe Ellie was the exception to the antisocial rule. Or maybe… She grinned. “But she doesn’t know you wouldn’t,” she teased, poking him. “You can help with the desk.”

And then, turning to Lala: “I guess we’ll just… organize my clothes in piles outside of the closet until he works his magic on Dorothea. Leave yours where they are.” It would at least make picking outfits easier. Or… much harder. She did have a wardrobe on top of having a closet. There was always that. “All these sweaters can be folded, anyway!” She glanced into closet and leaned back out, trying to think of the upside. She grabbed the sleeve of a printed sweater and tugged it out for Layla to see, going into clothes mode once again. “Can I borrow this?”

Lala glared at her neanderthal friend as he grumbled about her coat hanger. Venus was lovely, okay? She was. With the most unimpressed face she could muster, she leaned over Ellie's shoulder and cleared her throat. "Pew, pew pew" she balled her hand into a gesture of pistols and waved them at Sander, with one eye closed. "That's the sound of me deflecting your whiny bitchin' with my happiness shield" she dead-panned and dropped her hands around her body. "You two leave Venus alone. She's epic" she continued, this time including Ellie in her glare.

When Sander actually named Narnia, she narrowed her eyes and made a soft humming noise at the back of her throat. How did he even know that? How could Sander Blackwell possibly know anything that wasn't cookies and caked and whatever the bloody hell else he read about. He had a disturbing amount of dessert cookbooks... But then she remember he had the actually most adorable sisters on the planet. She missed them. She sighed, turning around to nod at Ellie. She liked it here, despite the shitty heating, rundown state of things and the occasional cockroaches, spiders and the mice that escaped Cat. they weren't many. But she didn't wanna get thrown out because of a ruddy extension charm.

Lala eyed the exchange between Ellie and Sander with an amused expression, watching Sander turn into a tomato was always a fun experience. She changed her grip on Grinch and extended her arms with the cat towards Sander, eyebrows arched in question. When he merely muttered and turned away she snorted loudly and dropped an insulted cat to the floor. "It does" she mused, hands on her hips as she turned around to watch how the room was coming along. It already felt like Ellie's and Lala turned to beam at her friend.

At Ellie's implications about Dorothea, and Sander subsequent horror and mumbling Lala laughed so hard she almost bawled over, one hand over her stomach and the other grabbing at Ellie's shirt in an attempt to not face plant into the floor. "OMG, Sander you are so awkward. Ba-ha, Jesus, you two" she finally breathed loudly, with an amused little sigh. His face. oh sweet baby Jesus, he looked like a kicked puppy as Ellie went on about types and further mortifying him. As he flushed further and moved to the desk, Lala turned to smile at Ellie and nodded at her decision.

"We could do that now, and feel free to leave them in the living until we get the extension" she shrugged, it wasn't like there weren't clothes constantly strung around the house. The problem now would be to keep them separate, but...  after all. "Mi armario es tu armario" Lala declared, one finger pointed in the air. "You can take whatever you want, whenever you want. Tho I dunno about jeans and trousers, since mine would prolly end up as capri on you..." She furrowed her eyebrows and dragged Ellie out of the room. "Have fun, Neanderthal, we'll be dealing with clothes in the living" she shouted, practically kicking the door closed behind them and leaving a gobsmacked Sander inside.

Once they were back in the sitting room, Lala stopped, hands on her hips and shook her head at the state of it. "I want to crash an OCD meeting and befriend everybody, then call them around. Maybe they'll clean this up..." she scoffed, extending her hands to point around her. "Now... I stole muffins from Sander last night, we have coffee, I need a cig and you need to tell me when we're throwing you a moving in party" she beamed walking over the corner of the half wall and coming back with a tray of muffins to place it on the coffee table. After that, she dragged the coffee table in front of the couch - and how did that even get there? - and basically threw herself on the sofa.

“Fine, Venus is off limits…” As long as Mario didn’t watch her getting dressed, she wagered in her head. Was there a way to ban the little man from her room?

On a pleasanter note, cats, blushing boyfriends, and a room shaping together nicely were a great way to spend a morning, particularly one where she wasn’t out putting her lenses to good use and getting paid for it. She did have several projects booked for the week, which good, especially considering rent. Mario aside, this was going brilliantly. “We’re a tenth of the way there,” she encouraged.

Poor Sander, though. He didn’t seem to handle the joke well— which was expected and endearing. Ellie liked watching him blush, even if it was at his expense. It wasn’t as if she had said anything terrible. She grinned at him, half reaffirming that it was just joke, half delighting in his face.

“Cropped trousers are in, luckily.” Her grin turned on Lala this time. She was only joking— even if she could get her legs through Lala’s pants, she wasn’t sure about the waist, as her friend was a good half foot shorter. That’s what magic was for. Or an actual tailor. It was a little cold for capris at the moment, though. She wouldn’t really take her wand to Lala’s clothes.

Yanked into the living room, Ellie looked back over her shoulder with oh, not getting a word out after Lala’s neanderthal comment. The idea of a dozen obsessive compulsives— all Ravenclaw alums, obviously— made her shove aside thoughts of reassuring Sander that he was a very well adjusted neanderthal. “You might be the one who should start a moving company.” Ellie liked the way Lala thought. Although she wasn’t sure such organized people would get her style, and how her clothes should be organized… less organized.

And last night’s muffins? She was in. She joined on Lala on the sofa, reaching over for a big, fluffy muffin, and opening the lid of her coffee to dunk a bit in before taking a bite. It was hard work. “Do you have any groceries?” She asked, already knowing the answer. “We should go shopping tonight and make dinner.” She thought about her boyfriend laboring in the other room. “For Sander, too.” There, she didn’t feel guilty now. Ellie took another bite of the muffin, knowing she could get used to this. "We can clean... after that."

"I'd be brilliant at it" she nodded with a grin at her friend. "As long as everything is the way I want, I'm very flexible and I'm absurdly epic at giving orders" she continued, with a thoughtful expression on her face. "Move in Styles. That sounds about right." With a little snort she shook her head and grabbed her pack of cigarettes, extracting one with deft fingers.

At Ellie's question about groceries, she turned her head to watch her with an expression that pretty much said 'Really? Do you remember who you're talking with?' But as soon as she got back on track, Lala beamed at her and nodded fervently. "Yes, I am very much down with that! I demand stir fry. Chicken. With rice noodles" she said enthusiastically, with sort of a dreamy expression, ending on a particularly pleased sigh.

Her next words, however, were met with a rather murderous glare. "No. He can cook for himself and he owes me, so it's not like he's doing this out of the kindness of his heart" she arched an eyebrow, as if daring Ellie to contradict her. Sander would've never gotten the balls to make a move if she hadn't pestered him for weeks and weeks, three times a day. Finally, she turned to scan the room and with an intense furrow of her eyebrows, she let out a little snort. "If that's how we're both going to be..." she laughed, lighting her cig with the tip of her wand.

"I wake up every weekend planning to do a thorough, sparkling cleaning and then a voice in my head says 'Hahaha, good one!' and we laugh and laugh and laugh—" she said with a little smile, hand gesticulating wildly, ash from her fag falling to the carpet "and then I take a nap" she ended with a no nonsense tone and an unimpressed expression. "So if that's how we're going to be, I doubt we'll even remember the color of our furniture because of the bigass layer of dust on it, in just a few weeks" she snorted, taking a drag out of the cigarette. "I had my bet on you" Lala batted her eyelashes at her best friend, with a most angelic smile.

"And I said party, not let's cook a boring dinner and feed the feeble minded, by which I mean your boyfriend—" she froze, eyes going wide for a second. "OMG... Your boyfriend. It just hit me, it properly hit me, holy shit my best friends are doing the shmex with each other. Ew, ew, ew" she shook her head fervently. "Mind bleach! Someone give me the mind bleach now! You scarred me. I am forever traumatized" she whined hysterically, pointing an accusing finger at Ellie.

“You don’t even need a sonorous charm to give orders.” If it was said teasingly, there was also an impressed quality to Ellie’s voice. Ellie would have to buy Lala a director’s chair with Move in Styles emblazoned on the back. Not that they had room for more furniture. But it would make a fun birthday present…

The words stir fry made her dig right back into the muffin. There was no doubt they were going to earn their dinner, on top of adventuring around the grocery store. She smiled longingly-- despite the present, delicious breakfast. It was a very good thing they were on a break.

But. “He bakes for us all of the time,” she pointed out. "No one can live on cigarettes and frowns, Lala.” They had to feed him! “And he is using his heart.” She thought. But then it was very plausible he was repaying Lala to avoid her wrath. Or else Ellie had whipped him into good boyfriend shape faster than most girls could claim. It was a flattering idea, but she still thought he was being sweet helping. She was biased, but she also had insider information on Lysander Blackwell’s sweet side. And all of the other sides under the hair and jeans.

Whatever their disagreements on Sander, they seemed to agree on a cleaning schedule in so far as they probably agreed that it didn’t need to be marked on a calendar. Ellie had a personal brand of organization— it was a bit more colorful than some people’s— but she was being sincere about getting around to the dusting soon. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t somewhat flexible. No one loved cleaning, except for those obsessive compulsives Lala was going to hire for her empire (or a few Ravenclaw alums). “I’ll be a cleaning champ after stir fry. I just need some good music. And a broom.” And that box full of cleaning supplies in her parents’ house which was usually managed by her parents’ elf. They would have to buy a few more things at the store, it seemed.

“He’s not—” These seemed to be words she’d been using a lot lately. Before Ellie could get out a defense, Lala reached a point of personal enlightenment. Ellie’s mouth closed, opened, closed again as her brows darted up and her lips pursed, but it was long before she was smiling not-so-sheepishly. “It’s not like we’re your siblings.” Not literally. Though it might have been true that Ellie didn’t spend her days thinking about Lala’s sex life, either— unless it was impossible to miss, which it might be, now that they lived together. "You know we make a pretty cute scar.” Her brows darted up. “He’s photogenic.” Among other things that Ellie probably didn’t need to feed Lala’s imagination.

"Damn right" she said with a pleased nod of her head, grin big on her face. She had a voice that tended to grab attention, a lot lower and rougher than what might expect from someone her size and with her looks. She didn't know if it was the years of cigarettes or what not... She'd picked up smoking before she got out of puberty, so she couldn't have known either way. Anyway, yes, her voice was perfect for throwing commands left and right and Ellie sure knew it. Despite the sass.

"He does not live on cigarettes and frowns, Ellie. He lives on the tears of small children and poor helpless teenage girls. He's fine" she said, finality in her voice as she narrowed her eyes at her best friend. "He ain't using shit. He's doing it because it's you, and also 'cause he knows that saying no to me comes with lethal consequences." Lala's lips came to a rather smug smirk as she raised her eyebrows at Ellie, daring her friend to contradict her. "Besides, baking is what he does! If he isn't out at nights doing—" she stopped, a frown on her face. She didn't know if Ellie knew of Sander's nighttime activities, and quite frankly  she did not want to be the one to open that can of worms. "He bakes all the time! It's not like he eats them himself, he hates them, so I'm just there doing him a service and stealing them. To eat them" she huffed, crossing her arms, and taking another drag out of her cig.

"I'm not cooking for him" she finally ended. "You do it" she said maturely. She did cook for them sometimes, but not for Sander so much as Les, because as much as she hated that little shit, Sander may be a genius baker, patissier or whatever, but he was kinda crop cooking actual food, and God only knew Les survived on cigs, alcohol and crap fast food. But not Sander. Just because Les and him shared an apartment—she did not cook for Sander! How dare he call her  Spicy Shoyu Ramen "a pot where Satan shat in"?! just because his delicate palate couldn't take hot foods. The arse.

With the conversation back on cleaning, Lala calmed down a little encouraging Ellie on her plans to clean with a soft clap of her hands. However, her face froze at the mention of music. "Now, I don't have rules in here, you can do whatever the hell you want, mi casa es tu casa and all that, but music... We'll need some ground rules for that" she said very seriously, looking Ellie dead in the eyes. Call her a music snob, or whatever, Lala couldn't really give a rat's ass about it, but there was no girly, pop-ish, commercial music in her home. "You can do yer thang in your room, but the system is sacred and must not be tainted with the music of the peasants" she gestured grandly towards the 5.1 system surrounding them, stopping with big eyes on the awesome sub woofer. Actually, did Ellie even know how to work the whole technology thing? That would have to be revisited... "I don't actually know if I own a broom. There is a vacuum tho" she said with a frown. That would explain the state of her apartment, probably.

"Oh-Em-Gee, Ellie, you're just making it worse" she exclaimed on a screech. Siblings?! It was much, much worse. "Promise me—no! Swear to me, if you're planning to do the—the—beast with two backs in here! You're gonna give me time to get the hell out of Dodge before you burn that into my brain, yes?!" she said on the verge of panic, extinguishing her cigarette with an almost violent outburst. "You don't make anything pretty, you're just weird. I love you both, well not so much Grumper McGee, but... it's just... I feel betrayed" she said in faux-seriousness, dawning upon her face. "You're like—gonna team against me now" she stopped suddenly to huff at Ellie. "Don't you dare do that, Eleanor Cadence St. James, you hear me? Bros before hoes" she stuffed a muffin in her mouth and leaned back into the couch with a vengeance.

"Did you just call me a hoe?" came Sander's disbelieving voice from the now half-open door of Ellie's room. His face was so shocked and horrified that Lala choked trying to laugh with an entire muffin in her mouth. He continued to look confusedly between Lala and Ellie, as Layla fought to not die by means of Sander baked muffin.