Morningstar Manor

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!]]

Urquhart did his serious training by himself, of course. He didn't want people to do see what he could really do.

But for a regular light work-out, just to make sure he moved every muscle in his body every day, the semi-public gym in the first basement was good enough.

So he was there, humming to himself while he was on the stair-climbing machine, going up an imaginary skyscraper.

Andy waited without much impatience. As far as she was concerned airlines took their time and there was no point her getting stressed about it. Also it would be good, in a slightly masochistic way, to see Deacon again. She'd missed him - though she'd stick her hand in a blender sooner than admit it.

So she waited, reading a local free paper, pretending not to have one eye on arrivals.

More coffee. Except the cretins who shared her office never never refilled the machine. Andy snarled quietly to herself as he topped up the grounds then filled the tank.

"While you're on your feet ..." Courtnall said with a grin and waved his mug at her.

"In your dreams," Andy said and rolled her eyes when she saw someone else approaching. "Not you too?"

She had had a bad night and had spent most of it longing to go home, put her feet up and watch something mindless on TV.

So naturally, when she finally did get back to the Manor, it was to find a fellow tenant breathing his last in the middle of the Mocha.

Once it was over she sat down for breakfast anyway. There was nothing to eat in her apartment.

She stirred her coffee, staring into the middle distance while she tried to shake off the tension of the night.

Inside was a gift basket with a stuffed zebra, a baby blanket, a few onesies, a stack of blankies, a picture frame, and an alphabet box.

Attached was a note:

Congratulations!!!!!

We should all be so lucky as to have an Andy for our mommy.

xoxoxo

Love always,

Bea (and Eli!)

Nia was in day care so Deacon was hanging out in the Mocha and Charlie had the afternoon off now that Glen Morgan had arrived at the gallery so had joined him for a bite of lunch. Getting a call via Skype from their good friend Andy was just the cherry on the danish.

"I could murder a Mocha danish," now she said. "I could eat a whole sheep. Erik's gone into Monmouth for groceries because I've eaten everything in the village shop. It would be scary if it wasn't such fun."

She grinned at them, her face rounded as her belly, showing nice and clearly on the webcam with the familiar fixtures of the Norton Wood farm kitychen in the background.

"You're looking well," Charlie sid. "Isn't she Deacon? Isn't she looking well."

Someone is getting married.

That someone is meeeeee! <333

To say that Andy was NOT a fan of having to work on her own doorstep was an understatement, but she was hoping all this could be sorted out quickly and this young woman was the closest thing they had to a witness. Possibly she'd be more likely to open up to a sympathetic neighbour?

Yeah, right.

Andy knocked on Sybil's door and leaned against the jamb, badge in hand.

Deacon firmly believed that everything happened for a reason. Like his insane idea to take Charlie Shaw out shopping yesterday. Okay yes he'd had fun - quite a bit actually - and yes Shaw was good company and... Oh who was he kidding. He was attracted to the little Brit and that was probably a very bad idea since Shaw was one, only here temporarily and two, a victim in a case that the force was working on. Okay so it wasn't as bad as if Deacon himself had been involved in that case but still.

Generally a bad idea.

But that shopping trip had lead Deacon to learn a bit about Shaw's taste in clothes and some of the outfits he'd lost when his bag was stolen and so when Deacon happened to catch sight of a young man in Vine Square looking a bit shifty and watching a couple of women who were window shopping close and wearing a rugby jersey identical to one Shaw had said he lost - well maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

( Read more... )

Today is the day.

It was the same mantra every morning. Today was the day she would leave. Today was the day her life would change. Someone would sweep her off her feet. She'd win the lottery. She'd make a new friend. She'd create a piece of art that would really get her noticed and make it seem like all the money in scholarships she'd won to Rutherford was worth it.

Except she never did.

She pinned back the bangs of her long, dark hair with a clip and looked at her face in the mirror, not lingering too long before moving to pull on a pale blue cardigan over her white tank top and jeans and slid her feet into black ballerina flats - never heels. She was tall enough without them and she didn't like to stand out more than she already did. It was also too warm for a sweater, but when she didn't cover her arms there were too many questions about the scars covering her arms. Some self-inflicted, some done out of malice by a man she'd rather forget. Plus as she was a barista in the Mocha, that usually meant that she waited on some very prestigious people every now and again. It wouldn't do to advertise what a wreck she was.

She left her bedroom and paused in the living room where she pulled a thin blanket up over her mother, passed out on the couch still in her Manor maid uniform, and headed out of the small staff apartment.When she arrived at the Mocha she smiled at Joy before moving to take her place at the counter. It was a decent job. The pay was alright for the amount of work she was required to do, and it gave her a little extra money.  Who couldn't use that?

She gave her first customer an honestly genuine smile.  Just another day.

Andy stood close to the barrier at the railway station, jiggling her car keys in her hand. She had no fears about not spotting Bea. Andy in her flats was one of the taller women present and Bea did tend to the heels.

She lifted her chin to look over the crowd then grinned and raised a hand to her mouth to whistle and waved her keys over her head.

Andy silenced the TV with a contemptuous flick of her thumb on the remote, wriggled into a more comfortable position on the sofa and picked up her phone. She chose a number and let it ring.

( For Adam )

( For Joe )

( For Andy )

All Del's unwanted possessions had been packed away and he was left with one smallish bag, his wallet and his phone. Where they were going clothes would be optional and if Eris decided to take a trip to warm up Anchorage they were in sufficient funds to buy what they needed when they got there.

He got a last coffee and seated himself in his favourite seat in the Mocha to wait for his lady.

###

Gil was grabbing some quiet time in the library with a heap of recipe books and one of the computers. While the printer churred and chugged and spat out nice new inventory lists he leafed through the books wincing at the over coloured pictures and occasionally snorting at the recipes.

But sometimes he nodded and scribbled in a dog eared notebook. You could always learn something new.

###

Charlie was in the conservatory with a pile of printed off pictures and a pair of scissors. If anyone passed he went very still, trying not to attract attention. He was good at that - still hadn't lost the knack of self-effacement he'd found so necessary when he arrived.

But this time it wasn't because he was scared of the world and everything in it. It was because the pictures he was so carefully cutting out were of handsome, smiling and mostly naked young men and were destined for a very special project he had in mind.

He just didn't want to give offence.

###

Andy read a novel with a sense of utter luxury and sipped a latte from time to time without much enjoyment. Her doctor had impressed upon her that double shot espresso could be overly stimulating, in fact addictive and that she really wouldn't want a new born that was going cold turkey.

She turned another page, read a bit, and snickered. Harlequin Historicals. Priceless. And hardly stimulating anything at all, other than her funny bone.

Andy let herself in, hung up her coat and went in search of her, she smirked, fellow parent-to-be.

"Honey I'm ho-ome," she called. "Oh hi, what're you up to?"

The Mocha was jumping today and many Manor regulars were out and about.

Deacon sat at a table reading over an email Seth had sent to him. It spoke of collars and other alternatives to them and had gotten Deacon thinking. But when Nia insisted on climbing into his lap he closed the email and instead opened up the video player to one of her Winnie the Pooh shows. He'd have to take her to daycare soon so that he could go to the dojo but until then they had a bit of time. So she sat happily in his lap, munching on a cookie and watching Pooh Bear and Deacon sipped his coffee and smiled down at her curly head.

****

Erik had been on the phone when he'd first arrived in the Mocha - speaking to his estate agent and working out everything that would need to be done before he and Angela returned home. Moving everything from their flat here back to Norfolk was a daunting task and so when that call ended - and he'd gotten his tea and found a table - he took a moment to simply sit. He'd had a bit of time before the next call needed to be made.

****

Micah sat in one of the chairs near the Mocha door, sipping his coffee and staring at nothing in particular. He was still furious with Robert Rossi's assumption that he could be bought off like that and hadn't yet said anything to Isabella about it. He'd need to though and likely soon. He'd also need to tell Max about the baby. That was a conversation he wasn't looking forward to.

****

Across the room at at a table Max was reading a paper and enjoying coffee and a bagel before it was time to head to work. Something was up with Micah, he knew, and he'd give it a bit more time before pressing the issue. Then there was the matter of Sterrin and her ex. Granted Max hadn't seen anymore of the man he'd sent to the ER but the fight had obviously caused a riff between Sterrin and her brother - something Max wasn't pleased with.

He sighed and turned a page in the newspaper. Relationships could be such a bother.

****

Rhys was back in the Mocha as well, dressed for work in slacks, a button up and a tie that hung a bit loose around his neck. A duffle bag with a change of clothes and his scrubs sat at his feet and he munched on his bagel and drank his coffee and mentally prepared for his shift.

In the early hours of the morning Erik rolled over in bed, breath deepening as the dream he was currently having slipped into something else. Greens and browns and the glint of sunlight off a small pond and Erik found himself in the warm comfort of the center of the Wood. He smiled, touching the stone 'throne' and running a finger along the symbols carved in it, then turned when he felt a presence.

"Ceri," he said with a soft sigh and the woman before him smiled and held out her arms. He went to her, holding her slight form to him and inhaling her scent - the summer sun, the earthy scent of growing things, the clean smell of the wind in the hills.

"It's time," she said, raising her hand to cup Erik's jaw.

"Time?" he asked, slightly confused.

"Time to come home," Ceridwen replied and Erik felt a jolt of relief. He had waited for years to hear those words.

"Because of the wedding?" he asked and Ceri smiled.

"You don't want to raise a family under that man's eye," Ceri said and Erik frowned. Ceri laughed softly and rose up on tip toes to kiss him softly. "Your lady has been ill, Erik. You're a Healer, look more closely. And then - bring them home."

Erik woke - not with a start but with the frown still on his face. Them? He rolled over looking for Andy.

It was you wasn't it?
:D :D :D
I made Erik eat the one with the knockers!
Thanks honey
xx A

Bea had spent all day making cupcakes.

Yes, cupcakes. The cake part was easy - all she had to do was follow the directions on the box of cake mix. However, what she'd really went balls-out on was the decorating. She'd made faces and figures and shapes and cartoons out of icing and candy until she was blue in the face, and it was time to deliver.

Trying to stay distracted? Maybe. But it was good karma, right?


She figured it was best to start at the top and work her way to the bottom, so she grabbed the first batch and took them up to the fourteenth floor, dropping a bride and groom pair off in front of Erik and Andy's door with a note, not wanting to disturb the love birds, then went to knock on Charlie's door.

She had a penguin cupcake for miss Nia, and a mouse cupcake for Charlie, plus plenty of flubs in case they wanted more.