Morningstar Manor

Just in case.

I count my time writing in MM as one of the happiest of my life and remember the players fondly and their characters with love. I hope you are all doing well.

xx

.. it is time somebody posted, so the IJ goblins can see we still exist, in a way.

I have told somebody about this just today because the canon charries we play back in the Bar fit the character archetypes of Charlie and Deacon to a T, and we don't want the real original Charlie and Deacon lost, do we?

Hoping to rescue this collaborative writing project until I find a way to archive the posts off site.

Posting to try and keep this group open since we don't want to lose our archive of collaborative fiction.

Eurovision Song Contest!

There used to be some serious Gay Cred attached to that, but by now, it was just fun for all, a reason to party, not to be taken serious, but with a drink and some friends to mock the unluckier entrants, their fashion and musical gaffes; a chance to be thoroughly camp, whatever one's actual sexual orientation.

So Andras had gone to the Lamb, just as in the years before, persuadded Molly to find a satellite channel that carried it, and then settled down at the bar with a pint of cider and a bowl of peanuts to watch the silliness.


[[OOC: Party post! Jump in, take a drink, threadhop, relax!]]

Things were coming together.

Not only had the insurance paid up, Mirko had also sent a nice big envelop of large used bills by way of compensation and peace offering. Not that Urquhart would let up his caution; but that was par for the course.

So he was about to finalise deals on both a new motorcycle and a new garage/workspace, ready to get on with his life.

Of course, the alternative would have been to up and leave, set up shop somewhere else, to avoid the twin dangers of being traced down by somebody else and actually becoming what he was making people believe he was.

Sometimes, he suspected he had become somewhat addicted to this place -- the amenities and discretion of the Manor, all the casual acquaintances to chat with, women to flirt with, the excellent tarte au citron at the Auberge, which he was presently enjoying while his phone lay on the table, waiting for people to ring back about the bike, or the place.

A little while longer. He got to enjoy this a little while longer until he'd finally have to pull up roots and start moving again.-

It wasn't often Andy got an afternoon off so she had found the quietest place she could and was tucked away in a corner of the roof garden, getting a little of the bracing fresh air with her phone turned OFF.

She'd pay for it later, probably, but who cared? The department could manage without her. She didn't feel the least bit guilty.

Much.

Roxy was in the gym, running on the treadmill as she contemplated Spencer and his working late. She knew he had the responsibility of the whole store, but feeling like second place didn't sit well on her shoulders. It wasn't like she was expecting a whole lot, just some time with him after work to unwind and relax... At least it didn't sound like a whole lot of expectations when she mulled it over in her head.

*~*
Logan was sitting on a patch of dirt in the gardens, not really doing much of anything. He had a trowel and a flat of pansies beside him and Appa was napping in the shade. A bit more out of place was the white envelope on top of his backpack. It was regarding college and for now, he didn't want to open it.

~*~
Travis was taking in the sights of summer as he sat in the Mocha, laptop open as he pretended to put the finishing touches on his final paper for art history class. Truthfully, it was done; he'd finished it at Macy's after they'd discussed several of the pieces he had to include. She'd helped him quite a bit and for that he was grateful because this art history crap was boring to him.

*~*
Eve had today off and decided to spend it by the pool. She'd already gone for a swim so her hair was damp, but her body dry. That was the advantage of comfortable loungers, she thought as her eyes opened and she moved gingerly, hoping she hadn't gotten sunburned while she'd napped. Satisfied at the non crispy feeling, she sat up and ran her hand through her hair.

~*~
In the mail room, Tristan was contemplating how incredibly wrong the contents of his mailbox looked. He'd separated the junk into one pile, bills and other correspondence into another and stacked the magazines. Currently the latest issue of Parents was layered between Smashing and Maxim... With a chuckle he added Cosmo and thought about how that should make Rhiannon laugh when he got the mail to her. Hopefully she thought it was funny.

*~*
"Oh thanks, you're such a doll." Erin said with a broad smile to the doorman as she juggled a tote bag of groceries and Amelia's leash. "Come on hun; don't trip over your ears now." She said to the dog as she tried to hurry along. Callan would be home soon - if he wasn't already - and she hadn't so much as started dinner yet.

~*~
In the garage, Chad was juggling his own groceries as he listened to the message on his voicemail. He sighed as it ended, and he dropped his phone in the process of trying to close it up. "Damn." He swore lightly. Not because he'd dropped his phone, nor because he had to put things down to pick it up, but because Logan's grandparents had requested to have him for the summer, reminding Chad that the boy would be going off to college soon and he'd be on his own again. Chad wasn't sure if he was ready for Logan to be gone.

Out of respect for Icene and how tough she'd had things recently Joe had differed to Adam's wishes and quietly set his plans into motion. But now everything was packed up and or put in storage, the forms were signed and filed, his tickets purchased - he had no choice but bring the subject up again.

Adam was as reluctant as ever and Joe began to suspect it had as much to with his brother as Icene. A part of him was touched, but the majority remained unmoved. He was ready to go.

Eventually they decided on an upcoming date for the big announcement over a quiet dinner at home.

Kenny O'Bannon never knew what hit him. He was chatting to his girlfriend on the phone, making the appropriate noises while listening to her woes about her sister, her mother, her aunt and her entire extended female family. He'd have asked her to marry him months ago if he weren't slightly scared of the entire matriarchal tribe she was going to bring --

"OUCH!!"

"What's the matter?" she was asking on the phone.

"Something bit me," he said. "Fuck, it's far too early in the year for the real big monsters."

He touched his neck where the sharp little pain had been, and his finger came away with a drop of glistening blood, which he licked off.

Then, Shawna hung up, he had reached his 'workshop' in the basement, and opened the door.

And keeled over dead, his besneakered feet sticking out into the evening sun.

To be honest, licking the blood had been harmless. The poison didn't survive digestive juices. In the bloodstream, however, it was immediately fatal in small doses.

On the roof, a quite satisfied contract killer crept away quietly. Not only had he got revenge for the Harley (and the attempt at murdering him), he had also proven that killing somebody with a blow-dart made of ice laced with classic blow-dart poison was quite feasible.

That way, killing Kenny had even been useful.

Bea was sipping coffee at a table by the window, wearing a necklace she thought was just gaudy enough to be awesome on a Monday afternoon and a red dress, giggling at the newest Sassy Gay Friend video she'd called up on her iPhone. There was work to be done and puppies to walk, but Bea was feeling particularly lazy and figured she wouldn't be much good to anyone without caffeine.

*

Niles was sprawled out on the couch in his usual position, blatantly taking up the whole thing as he flipped through a stack of magazines that had come in the mail that morning. There were copies of Esquire, Tattoo magazine, Maxim, and Time, but he was currently flipping holding the Spring 2011 Ikea catalog. What? He needed a new lamp.

*

Granger had taken the day off, which left him feeling a little out of sorts, but that was okay. He sat in a corner table by himself with a cup of plain black coffee and a donut he'd picked up at the Krispy Kreme on his way home from the grocery store, looking around at the people in the Mocha in between bites. He needed to spend time somewhere besides the bureau and the station, he decided somewhat distractedly.

*

Rhiannon sat at a table ignoring the cup of still-steaming coffee in front of her in favor of the little bundle of Sophie in her arms. She wasn't crying or anything and in fact was alert and awake and even attempting to smile, but that could've just been gas. Likely gas, actually, but it was still cute.

Rhiannon realized in the early morning hours while she was at the hands of a little ten pound red-faced tyrant that she had severely undervalued sleep in her life before. She'd changed Sophie's diaper, she'd attempted to feed her, and she'd spent the better part of the last hour walking her around and around in circles and singing "Hey Jude" until she felt like she was going to lose her voice while the baby continued to bounce between sobbing and rubbing her face tiredly against Rhiannon's shoulder as she fought the urge to just go to sleep.

She swore to whatever higher power was listening that she'd make sure to get her full eight hours of sleep every night for the rest of her life if said higher power could just make her daughter sleep too.

"Come on, Sophie," Rhiannon whispered against her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Momma is so tired, baby."

The way Sophie's screams increased in volume at the words let her know that her daughter didn't particularly care. It was then that she heard the bedroom door open and she turned to see Tristan home from work. "Oh thank God."

Even cops were entitled to eat.

Or so Andy told herself as she smiled at Gaston and picked up her knife and fork.

"Bon appetit," Gaston said.

"Thanks, hun," Andy replied and took a forkful of quiche.

It wasn't hard to admit she had cabin fever, and rather than go outside, even though it appeared spring might actually be coming in, Ang had opted to take her new daughter down to the Mocha. Alec had taken Gavin and Faith outside, but Ang was not going out there with her ten day old baby girl, not for anything. So here she sat, the baby in one arm, and sipping tea with the other. She knew Alec might not be long, but she'd got juice for Gavin and some cookies and muffins, and of course her tea, a bottle of water for Faith and Alec's coffee was on order for when he came in. In the meantime, she was feeling very sociable, and rather pleased with herself.

If you shop till you drop, it means you will eventually drop. Sibyl was sitting outside the Auberge, her shopping trolley filled with regular groceries and some additional spring cleaning supplies. Now, she was mostly done, and was having a tall latte and some water at the Auberge before lugging all that stuff home to the Manor.

Andras was sitting a few tables away, reading something on his iPad, and chuckling to himself.  He was having lemon tarte. This was the perfect morning for lemon tarte.

Urquhart was sitting on the pedestal of the bronze angel, sipping a triple espresso and going through the classified ads in a motorcycle magazine. He urgently needed a new bike.

Deacon had been up early and already hit the gym, showered and dressed and now sat in the Mocha having his coffee and a bagel before heading to the station. Some Detectives wore suits. Not Deacon. Jeans, boots, button up shirt and either a blazer or, as today, his leather jacket. Only right now the jacket was laying over the back of a chair and Deacon's custom fitted shoulder holster and gun were visible. As was the badge clipped to his belt. He didn't normally look the part of a cop but seeing as he was technically already on duty...

Funny how the gun made people more hesitant to come by and say hi.

****

Seth might not have gone to say hi but he was paying attention to the big blond. Pencil moved quickly over sketch pad as he drew and smiled to himself. Charlie would appreciate it if nothing else. And speaking of Charlie... Seth paused and sent a quick text message to his friend letting him know who was down in the Mocha.

Labelled up for the Reyes Family, one 'bouquet' of organic cotton baby clothes in natural colours, Charlie not agreeing with gender stereotyping until the kid made its feelings known on the matter.

Plus a card wishing everyone well.

Stan Milne was the insurance companies toughest loss adjuster. nobody ever put anything over on him. And he didn't expect this job would be any less successful.

He looked at the outside of the damaged garage and sniffed. Was that a whiff of accelerant?

He glanced at his watch. He was early, as usual. It would be interesting to see if the claimant was on time.

Hiding out? Cleo? Not a chance, but the pile of study books and notebooks on one lounger, while she lay on the one next to it did sort of indicate she'd been there a while. Which even if that hadn't given it away, the cooler full of empty soda's and a bowl that looked suspiciously like it might have held fruit salad did anyway. Yes, with Jazz still doing her heartbroken best to be as miserable as possible, Cleo was revising like crazy up at the pool house. Well, mostly revising, with a slap she closed the text and huffed as she added it to the other lounger, before twisting lithely and getting up off the one she'd been lying on. A few steps and she was diving into the pool to swim a few more laps in an effort to break up the monotony of Business Ethics, Economic Forecasting, and what she called "stockmarket one-oh-none" in trading practices.

Those few laps done, and at a fast pace besides, she lifted herself out onto the side and padded back to the lounger, eyeing the hot tub as she did so, maybe in a bit she'd go bubble away the terrible thoughts she was having about quitting school and taking up some brainlessly fluffy career option. She sighed as she settled back on her lounger, pulling a towel over her to help her dry off a bit, still arguing with herself, but not realising she'd spoken out loud.... "Yes, but brainless and fluffy you are not, however hard you try, so give that one up and keep studying."

Stakeouts were the pits, but at least Andy had someone to talk to.

"Good weekend?" she asked and took a sip of surprisingly good coffee, bearing in mind where they had bought it.