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Stepping Out Of The Frame [29 Dec 2005|03:07am] ( Not A Journal Item ) reply

A Star Is Born [29 Dec 2005|03:52am] [ mood | excited ] One might not guess it from outside, but 'The Witching Hour' seemed to have just as many managerial problems as any other business - perhaps even more so, considering the sheer scale of the place. That said, the employees didn't have to worry about much more than their own personally designated space. Even hired singers, like Natasha Rockwell, left the bigger stuff to the stage-hands to deal with. All she had to do was turn up on time, fine-tune her act and make sure the rest of her team, if any, were synchronised with what she was meant to be doing. Of course, when one of those people didn't turn up... "Ugh! And there's nobody to take her place? Great," Natasha despaired with almost tangible sarcasm. "Just... Fantastic." The place was being set up for the evening, some of the staff still filing in through the entrance. That was why the singer was having an argument with her Personal Assistant out where the public crowds would later be. There was a definite problem which had arisen and, looking up, an unfamiliar face caught her eye. Someone who didn't seem quite so sure about her surroundings as the rest of them. "Hey," Natasha spoke, seeking to attract their attention. Eyes scanning the girl's form in quick appraisal. "You're new here, right?" Dawn had been learning the ropes and figuring out where things went and the layout of the place when she was spoken too. It was the first time anyone had spoken to her that wasn't all 'This is this and that is that' or whatever. But she'd been okay with learning the ropes and picking up things as quick as she could. She was pretty good at it. So when she was taken by surprise, she looked it. "Uhm... yeah?" Yeah that was smooth, but Dawn really wasn't sure what the heck to say about that. "Bar staff or dancer?" The questioner asked, not confrontational, but not overly friendly, either. There could be time for that later, but a miniature crisis had developed on Natasha's lap, damn it and she needed people who could fix it. "I got two girls who just backed out on me at the last moment - flu or some such. One of those slots is covered, but I need another to make up the numbers. Sound like your thing?" "Um.. I'm a dancer." Now that she had actually looked over at the woman she recognized her. Wow. That was that singer.. Natasha something. She'd think of the last name in a second she was sure. Her first celebrity sighting. Awesome. And in the place she worked no less. "Um.. sure.. though.. what exactly do you need me to do?" Dawn wasn't much of a singer really. If need be, she could but she certainly wasn't anything special. But anything else though she felt like she could do. "I'd be happy to help as long as I can do it." she gave the lady a wry little grin. Rockwell. That was it. "I like your stuff by the way." Eh, might as well say it. ( On the way to the top ) reply

Returning home [29 Dec 2005|01:19pm] Tired wasn't descriptive enough. Aching would have worked about three weeks ago. But when your vocabulary isn't as extensive as the catalog of weapons you own, tired and aching were good enough, and anything past that you didn't care about. Feeling this way was more than taking up all mental faculties on the subject; describing it was just icing on the cake. He stood at the airport luggage claim, staring off into space. Tyler wasn't thinking about much of anything at the moment, and that included the fact that his luggage has circled around on the conveyor belt about four times. With a blink and a slight snort at his own state, Tyler's grin slightly crossed his face as he reached out and took hold on his personal belongings. Through the terminal, the airport, and into the outer areas of the airport, Tyler's weariness dissipated in some ways; in other ways it grew a little worse. He was looking forward to going back to Searchlight. The quite atmosphere was pleasant, the girl he was crazy about was still (hopefully) there, and no one that he had spent the past few months with were there. All those things seemed great to him. On the down side, however, things rarely were really peaceful in Searchlight, he had left Star when things had recently been...less than perfect, and some of those he cared about where no longer in Searchlight. But good and bad are to be found in all things. It is simply the nature of the world. All in all, Tyler was glad to be back, and to be on his way home. reply

Nutcracker Suite [29 Dec 2005|06:57pm] Heaven's Peak was threatening to become Deanna's home-away-from-home. She frequently visited the upscale club since she and Bethany rescued a frail Victoria out of the Scourge encampment. The slayer opened her furnished basement -- and her vein, as evidenced from the enhanced blood Victoria fed on, which accelerated recovery -- to Deanna and her childe. Deanna once joked that this made Bethany their de facto den mother, which resulted in a flash of knife and wicked grin from the slayer. They were truly the odd trio. She recognized the care in the slayer's eyes when it came to Victoria. And, Deanna thought, wouldn't it be a sight for a vampire and a slayer to hook up romantically? It was probably a first for the record books. If Victoria was happy, Deanna could be too. And if Bethany was happy, that meant free drinks. Deanna slid into her now favorite bar stool at the end of the bar, gave the bartender a nod and sat back. It had been in the back of Oliver's mind to visit Heaven's Peak ever since his brief meeting with Bethany Richards and, finding himself at loose ends, he made his way there from his hotel just to check it out. The music pouring through the doors when he arrived made him wince, but only slightly. He studied the dance floor for a minute, then decided to get a drink first. If he was going to wade into that mass of people, he'd need some insulation of the liquid kind. He hauled himself onto a stool, ordered a straight scotch. He checked out the other nearby patrons, then picked up his drink and took a sip. It burned very slightly going down, and he pronounced it passable before taking another drink. Another visual pass earned him the sight of a redhead at the end of the bar, and Oliver took a very careful, very discreet second look before directing his attention at the contents of his glass. Perhaps he should ask for the whole bottle. He'd finish this first and then decide. The night was just getting started. ( Two-Stepping at the Savoy -- WARNING for Violence and Mild Sexual Contact ) reply

Christmas at Our House [29 Dec 2005|10:38pm] The offer to spend Christmas at home was one that Aidan might have refused some time before, but that particular year had been a bit too tumultuous to resist the slow comfort of a family Christmas. It was funny what a near-death experience could do for a guy. Aidan arrived home to find not only his mother tearfully happy to see him, but his father – who hadn’t spoken a word to him in years – smiling and clapping him on the back in his old ‘I’m too manly for a hug’ gesture. The extended family dynamic had changed as well. Aidan wasn’t the black sheep anymore; that particular title had apparently switched to his cousin Ronnie, who was in jail for stealing a car the previous year. By the time the big extended family party rolled around – for there were far too many married cousins with in-law obligations to hold it on Christmas itself anymore – Aidan was flying high on a wave of good feeling. It was the type of family he had always wanted but never had. The party that year was moved from Auntie Therese’s house to Aidan’s family home, into the large finished basement rec area. There were lights and wreaths and trees everywhere; his cousin Luke had snorted and remarked that “an elf must’ve thrown up in here” upon arriving. The mass of people crowded in, chattering and eating together, with occasional bursts of Christmas carols from the aunts as they put away a little too many of the margaritas his father was whipping up behind the bar and the constant undertone of the younger cousins begging to open their presents. So much had changed. On the basement mantle was a hinged picture frame that held two photographs; Aidan’s last seminary school photo, and Adrian’s last high school photo. Aidan hadn’t seen anything like it in the house before. Everywhere he moved amongst the crowd, he had a voice calling a greeting or someone pulling him into a hug. He had always been the one sitting in the corner, just watching the excitement of the party that never touched him. This time, he was in the midst of it, and it was the best feeling he had ever experienced. ( Uncle Phil ) ( Cousin Erica ) ( And a Partridge in a Pear Tree ) reply

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