2025-03-10 - Laundry Meeting

Into everyone's life a little laundry must fall. And that goes extra for the employees at Spellbound, especially the ones that have costumes. The laundromat is the place to go for those poor, unfortunate souls who don't have a washer or dryer in their apartment.

Kellin is one of the latter. No washer or dryer despite his long years on the island. No costumes either, just a semblance of a uniform. It's a time of day that isn't particularly busy for the place, which is why he is here. No waiting for machines and it is relatively quiet. He sits at the bar engrossed in a book, a half consumed smoothie sitting nearby.

Mina is used to having to lug her dirty clothing to someplace where it can be washed. Her apartment back in California barely had room for a bed and a microscopic kitchen. Any ideas of a washer and dryer in the unit were beyond laughable. And while her accommodations on the island are much more spacious, there is still a lack of a washer and dryer.

Entering the establishment, dressed in a long, light blue maxi dress with a denim jacket over top and her golden blonde hair pulled back into a casual ponytail, she unslings the mesh bag crammed full of clothing off her shoulder and heads toward one of the empty machines.

Kellin is given a smile and a nod as she makes her way across the floor. Dropping the bag at her feet, she opens the lid and begins the process of transferring the assorted articles into the tub. None of which look like a uniform or a costume. Just every day, run-of-the-mill, clothes.

As she goes about the task, she hums a soft, melodious tune that anyone who knows might recognize as “Think of Me”, from the Phantom of the Opera.

Perhaps a minute, no more, after Mina arrives, the telltale jingling of the door to the street signals a second newcomer. This one's entirely different, a large guy in a tight black t-shirt and a snug knit beanie, also black, in faded denim and black Doc Martens. Both of his arms are muscled and heavily inked, and one of them holds a hamper.

That's right. No laundry bag, no duffel, no garment bag even. Just a wicker hamper with a cap of similar material resting jauntily on top. Clearly, the finer points of domesticity are either beyond the reach of Monsieur Duncan Bell or at least, beyond his notice at the moment.

He has a large pair of headphones on, probably Beats, and though his gaze slides over the other two, at first he makes no effort to greet them beyond the simple curt nod of acknowledgement you'd give anyone. His attention is almost fully on the first empty washer, at which he squints and frowns. The hamper falls to the floor with a bump or two before finally settling to the sound of Duncan's whispered curse.

"Mon Dieu! The fucking Tide pods again?!" He slaps his forehead in frustration, jarring the headphones a few inches off his ears.

Kellin is not so focused on his physical book about some mythology long since dead to not notice the two new comers into the nonlinear time scape that is the Sip & Suds.

Glancing up he returns the nodded greetings, his face maintaining a static expression of idleness. If he is curious of the strangers it doesn't show for the moment.

He is fully intent on going back to reading when Duncan curses about Tide Pods. Kellin concludes immediately that the man forgot them and isn't just cursing them for the hell of it. Setting the book down he gets up and heads over to where his own laundry things are. There is a distinct limp to his gait, having left his cane where he was seated.

Grabbing the small box of laundry detergent sheets, Kellin brings them over to hand them to Duncan. "Here. Unless you want to buy the sample size detergents from the attendant." He gestures with the box toward the counter where the attendant is dealing with some dry cleaning.

Mina glances over when Duncan curses, one hand holding what looks like a white tank top over the opening of the washer. It’s less the profanity that draws her attention and more the exclamation in French and the forehead slap. She drops the article in with the rest and leans down to rummage in the bag.

When she comes up holding a small bottle of detergent, she sees Kellin making his way over to come to the other man’s rescue. The comment about the attendant sends those sky-blue eyes swinging in that direction for a moment before turning back to the pair.

“I can sympathize,” she says, a noticeable trace of her natural German accent flowing through. “I walked halfway here before remembering I’d forgotten myself.” She holds up the small bottle of liquid laundry soap.

Shrugging, she pours some into the slot, closes the lid, and starts the cycle before turning back around and smiling.

“I’m Mina, by the way.”

Kellin's friendly offer catches Duncan in the act of pulling his headphones back onto his ears. He pauses, arms arrested in motion, and with the slightest of shrugs and the hint of a wistful smile-- strange on his bluff, no-nonsense face-- he pulls the luxury listening device from his head and sets it on the closed top of the washer next door.

"Merci," he tells the other man unthinkingly as Mina arrives on the scene, accepting the detergent sheet before correcting himself. "I mean, thank you." His eyes follow her hand to the small bottle of soap, then he adds, "and you for the offer, Mademoiselle."

He then leans down to pluck the hamper from where it rests on the ground, casually upending its contents-- best described as colors, really-- into the top-loading washing machine .

"I'm not accustomed to the kindness of strangers. It may be some of that is my own... disposition, no?" He laughs, apparently at himself by the way his eyes spark with good humor, "but even so, it's nice to encounter people who'll do a simple good deed. One hears so much about American manners in this... Midwest, I think they call it? But this is the first I've actually seen of it." To the woman's introduction, he adds, "Duncan. Duncan Bell."

"Having to make that walk back a few times, or dropping cash for detergent you already have at home will make you stop forgetting real quick." Kellin tells them both. At least it worked for him.

Kellin definitely has the RBF think going on, though it breaks as he huffs in amusement at Duncan "We may be in the Midwest here, but Spellbound is more of an international melting pot, so that Midwest charm can be hard to find sometimes." He explains the lack of seeing it much to Duncan. "And then there are those that find any show of kindness sus, so people are less likely to show it." He lifts a shoulder at that since he doesn't fall into that category. "Kellin." He offers since introductions are happening.

Mina nods in agreement with Kellin that making the walk back, or paying for something you already have at home, is a good educator on the importance of having everything you need to clean your clothes with you before departure. “Yes. Once was more than enough for me to be learning the lesson.”

She smiles at Duncan’s gratitude for her offer of assistance. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry I don’t know das Franzosisch phrase for that. The meager instruction I had in primary school has abandoned me.”

Kellin’s comment about the elusive Midwestern charm on the island gets a shrug in response. “In California, strangers either ignore you or are very rude to you. Hospitality is a rare thing there.”

Now that they’ve shared names, the blonde hops up to sit on top of a nonoperational machine and straightens her dress around her legs. “What is it you both do at the park? I am one of the new pirates for the Voyage to Adventure.” The way she flashes a smile that seems to light up her whole face seems to indicate that she’s extremely happy with her new vocation.

The exchange of pleasantries is met with a nonchalance that comes easily enough, for Duncan, since a kindness was done and a level of collegiality assumed. Kellin’s explanation seems well-timed with the apparent revelation of a real, live German, and the man in the black t-shirt accepts all of this with a nod.

The blonde’s admission that she’s an entertainer, however, receives a noncommittal “Hmmm,” and a wry little smile along with it. “You’re German, then? I’m not French, and thank God for that. ‘Merely’ Quebecois. Unlike the French, I won’t tell you one thing with my eyes and another with my words. I’m an artist, but not of the trompe l’oeil school.”

Then he snorts a self-deprecating laugh. “More of the ‘starving artist’ school, in fact. But this man I think we’ve all seen at one time or another.” Turning to Kellin, Duncan asks, “You pilot one of the ferries, no?”

"The northeast is notorious for rudeness too. It's unfortunate that it is something you have to get used too on both coasts." Kellin gets what Mina is saying about California. "At least it is slightly better here. At least when you are dealing with someone from the min-west." Like Kellin for instance.

And having two people here from out of country just proves his point about the place being to international to be considered min-western. Of course that is his opinion. One others may not share.

"That's a popular show among the kids. I see a lot of the tourists coming onto the ferry with eye patches and wearing the pirate merch." He isn't surprised to be recognized for being a ferry pilot. Work here long enough and one will ride all the ferries more than once, including his. "Yes. I captain the Siren's Song." Being told that Duncan is an artist doesn't say much. "What kind of artist then?"

Mina nods in response to Duncan’s question. “Yes, I moved from Leipzig when I was eleven. Big difference between there and Los Angeles. I have never been to Quebec. Or even Canada. I hear it is a lovely place.” A grin forms. “I cannot speak for those who live in the country, but the French tourists I have met at my prior job were very snobby in the tone of their words, even if those words were polite.”

When Duncan mentions Kellin’s occupation, those blue eyes widen a bit. “Yes. I am thinking that you are familiar. I have been on your ship several times. I am sorry I did not introduce myself then. I have only my fascination with the water to blame.” She grins and a bit of flush rises to her cheeks. “I will make sure to say hello next time.”

Her head bounces up and down eagerly, sending the ponytail swaying wildly. “Yes. That’s what I have been told. I am still rehearsing and learning my part, but I think it will be worth it to see the children enjoying the show.”

Her gaze moves to Duncan. “Yes, what type of art?”

It seemed he had the conversation well and truly deflected away to Kellin and the ferries. Duncan had very contentedly begun plugging quarters into the washer, happy to remain relatively under the radar, but then not one but both of them brought it back around to his art.

He inserts the last coin into its slot before pushing the whole lot in with finality. A satisfying ka-chunk noise is followed swiftly by the soft but discernible sound of water filling the washer drum.

"Mostly commission, for the park," Duncan admits with a shrug. "Paintings of their characters, things of that nature. But for myself, I prefer to create sculptures of mixed media and found objects." Dryly and with a laugh, he adds, "auto parts, often." Glancing at the door and then back to Kellin and Mina, he adds, "I appreciate your kindness, both of you. But I should be going for an errand. I'll be back to change these in an hour or so. If you're still around?"

He tips a nonexistent cap, then, and turning, moves toward the door.

"Canada is a great place to visit. I haven't been as far north as Quebec, but I have been to Windsor," most people from Detroit have been, "as well as Montreal, and Toronto."

"Well when I am piloting I am usually holed up in the wheelhouse steering and not wandering around talking to passengers." The wheelhouse is exactly where you want the pilot to be when the ferry is moving. So it isn't all the waters fault.

"Later man." He says as Duncan heads out for other business.

Mina waves as Duncan departs, then turns back to Kellin, still relaxing on top of the washer. "I've only been to California, Nevada, Arizona, and Michigan. Would have had a chance to go to Texas, but we got eliminated before we could get that far." She waves one hand. "I'm not counting all the places I've been in Germany, of course."

"That is probably good. And would explain why I've only seen you and not having talked to you before. Do you like driving the boat between the islands. I imagine it must get boring from time to time."

"That's a lot of places for someone from here, let alone from Europe." Kellin says, leaning against one of the washers that they are next too. "I have been to a number of places, but I was in the Coast Guard." her reason for not going to Texas is puzzling, and it shows by his furrowed brow "Eliminated? From what?"

"I find it more relaxing than boring. Quite frequently I have young kids that want to see how it all works, so they get a look about the wheelhouse and I let them blow the horn." much like pilots on airplanes would do for children before security got necessarily crazy. "I also get to pick the tunes, within reason of course."

"I was on my high school gymnastics team. Those are the states in our conference where we had competitions. We got eliminated before we could go to the nationals in Texas." Mina shrugs and leans back, planting her hands slightly behind her. "Balance beam was my favorite event. Vault not so much." She laughs. "At least now I get to use what I have learned at my job."

"Relaxing is a good way to put it. I think it would be too relaxing for me. I don't even like to drive a car if I do not have to. I mean, I do have my license, but I don't like to drive." She leans forward grinning. "You should tell your supervisor to get some tiny ferries made that you could give out to the children. Didn't they used to do that on airplanes? Give toys to visiting children?"

"Can I ask you a question based on your experience here. If you had one piece of advice to give to someone who has only been here three weeks, what would you say?"

Kellin nods in understanding at the explanation. "I played hockey in high school. We went to state a few times, but never got as far as nationals." So he didn't always have a limp, that must have came later. "I think the team did a few years later after they got a new coach. I had graduated by then."

"Falling asleep at the wheel of a ferry is just as dangerous as falling asleep at the wheel of a car." He assumes that is what she means by relaxing, that she would fall asleep. "They sell those at the terminal gift shop." there is a huff, "They would be undercutting themselves if they gave them away." he would probably prefer to give them away, but he has no say in the matter.

The question has him rubbing his well trimmed beard. "Just one?" another huff, this one of amusement. "Believe in the unbelievable"

"I love watching hockey. It is not as popular in Germany as it is here, but it is a very exciting sport. I'm sorry you didn't get to the nationals in your sport, either. Still, we did our best, right?"

Mina laughs and nods her head. "Yes. Falling asleep while in control of any vehicle is not a good idea." She doesn't confirm that she falls asleep in motion easily, but she is definitely adamant in her statement concerning the importance of remaining awake when you're the pilot.

She seems to ponder his tone when he mentions the fact that the tiny ships she referenced are already available. For a price. Sighing, she nods again. "Yes, I suppose just giving them away to the younger visitors would be bad for business. Still, I think it would be a wonderful souvenir to remind the child of their trip."

"Believe in the unbelievable." Mina repeats Kellin's words. Of course, she's already been given the 'you will likely develop magical abilities while here' speech in her orientation. While she herself has yet to personally experience anything supernatural, she has always been the type to keep an open mind. The ferry pilot is given a wide smile. "I will do that. Thank you."