#delphincd.

in finding delphine,  it wasn’t the vogue contacts phone book vivian had resorted to. it was that good old, nickname filled notebook  --  the one with the numbers that were useful for her jobs, and not her job. someone from the old days would have heard something about her returnal,  or maybe know of a friend of a friend who had something to do with finding a new spot for the woman in the city. vivian was certain; it couldn’t be that hard.

sure, viv could have simply asked her.  knowing she was back in town was enough for her to think del was in already, but not everyone was so open to their ideas as julian or viv herself. and so she had to be creative. the element of surprise had to be her secret weapon. she gets to said delphine’s building early in the morning, sunglasses covering half her disposition and the not at all suspicious look on her face. as a young dog walker struggles to control all four animals on their collars,  vivian approaches the scene.  “let me get that for you.  i’m going in anyway.”  she holds the door open for the stranger and tilts her head in a polite you’re welcome.  naturally, vivian slips into the lobby. game on.

casual steps towards the elevator; vivian can’t be too quick, that’s too much of a red flag. only by hearing the receptionist talk to one of the residents does she slow down, heading the desk and going through a few panflets and mail as an excuse to properly eavesdrop. nothing interesting  -  saying there was a family moving in, saying they should be done by the afternoon,  saying they carried about a thousand boxes up and still weren’t quite done  - and so she’s back on her journey, nearly entering the elevator when she’s finally noticed.

               ‘ma’am?  may i help you?’  it’s the receptionist. she turns around on her heels at the cue of a long, silent shiiiit. 

“oh no, not me, dear!” replies viv rather nonchalantly, in the one specific accent she usually hides behind when things get messy. she’s learned to think fast;  and as a puzzled look takes over the concierge’s features, she spots one of the many moving boxes on the ground.  places her purse on top of one and picks it up on a bit of a struggle.  bright smile on her face, though. “just moving in!  one less box for you boys to worry about, huh.” and enters the elevator, seeing confusion melt into embarassment in their faces as the metallic doors meet in the middle.

she’s already going through the box to search for an unexpected profit when the elevator doors slide open. must have been quite the surprise for delphine to spot her there, fur coat and all, inspecting one of the vases she found inside the box. “delphine hansen,” she muses, lowering her head to look at the woman from above her sunglasses, almost as if making sure that really was her friend. “god, you look good. i thought time would miraculously make me the hottest in the group or something,” teases viv in a clearly not the case sigh, leaving the box on the elevator before stepping out into the hall. “here, for your new place.” and casually offers her the small vase, already trying to figure out which one of the doors is the one delphine calls her own. “wanna show me ‘round?”