Morningstar Manor

"I've heard wonderful things about this place," Ana said as she walked with Emily to the entrance of NOIR, then inside. The doorbell chimed it's familiar Ding Dong the Witch is Dead! and Ana laughed. "How fun!"

Emily went to the Mocha for a cup of coffee before leaving to work. While she sat there, it occurred to her to send a text message to Anastasia.

Hey! When are we going shopping?

After pressing Send, she put the phone back to her bag and continued flipping through a magazine.

*

Laura walked into the lobby from outside in her tall black boots and just finished a phone call with her mother. Easter was coming up and plans were in the making, but Laura did not yet know what she was going to do.

*

Robert sat down on a bar stool in the Slaughtered Lamb with a heavy sigh. Finally the weekend and a few days off. First things first, though - a pint of Guinness.

Everyone was well on their way to getting hammered on Trevor's father's dime, but Anastasia didn't care. She was sublimely, blissfully happy.

She was married. Married! To Trevor Wentworth.  How could she ever be unhappy again?

Anastasia sat at a table shifting through her sketch book with a wrinkle between her brows. Her sketchbook was full of small, intricate paintings that once again, she didn't remember doing. What the hell was going on?

Niles sat sprawled out on a couch, fiddling with his new iPhone and writing a happy song on the iPhone's piano app. Things were good. So good, in fact, that he didn't even notice the pretty, but sad looking blonde woman that flickered in and out of sight beside him.

Isabella sat at a table staring at a slip of paper in front of her. It was a prescription for prenatal vitamins handed to her by her doctor this morning when she'd gone to confirm that the three pregnancy tests she'd taken on her lunch break Monday morning weren't lying.
She was pregnant. She didn't think she'd be a good mother. How could she bring a baby into her life where there would be so many people, like her father and Max, to protect it from?
But oh, a baby. Micah's baby. Smiling just a little, she put a hand on her stomach and tried to figure out how she was going to tell him.

Smith stood in line, staring at the back of someone's head that was in front of him. Man, he really didn't like that guy. It probably even showed on his face, not that he gave a shit.

Bea sat at a table with her laptop open in front of her, composing a blog for her website. She'd made her website more interactive and started blogging, which seemed to be going over well with her fans. There were some bizarre ones, but weren't there always?

Declan sat at a corner table on his phone, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Well, I can't crap out a deal for him, Mike. Tell him to call back after lunch and I'll give it a try." He hung up, but smiled to himself. He was still in too good of a mood from last night.

Olivia sat on one of the couches, idly flipping through a tabloid. Things were so different from the times when she'd been in these things constantly, she realized. That was a good thing, though.

Sterrin stood in line, ignoring everything around her as she shifted through some pictures on her phone. She hoped she never lost this anywhere, or at least hoped that with all of technology's advances they'd invent a self-destroy option for the phone soon for when people did.

Drew was in line as well, and he could feel eyes on the back of his head. When he turned around, he saw Laura's serial killer looking boyfriend giving him a stare down. He faced the front again and sighed internally. Awesome.

Kate sat at a table sipping cofffee and countng the chocolate chips in her cookie. This was supposed to be a double chocolate chip cookie, but it seemed average to her. "False advertising," she muttered to herself with a frown.

Rhiannon sat at a table with Harvey who'd decided he was going to wear an Optimus Prime helmet all day. He pushed it up just far enough to take a bite of his cookie and Rhiannon smiled as she flipped through a magazine, attempting to think of an idea as to what to fix for dinner tonight since her boyfriend was coming over. Boyfriend. It still made her feel a little giddy.

It was dark inside, the things of doing which were busy in the sense of stuff that had to happen. Scribbling. Long hand, pen scratching on paper, scent of ink like liquor on this tongue and writing. Writing.

Writing.

Anastasia was having trouble deciding between two dresses for Emily's party tonight. The black one made her look curvier, but the silver fringe dress was entirely more fun. She thought about asking Gavin, but he was lost in his writing and she hated to disturb him for something so petty. There was really only one thing left to do - consult her bestie.

Hooking both dresses over her arm, she went upstairs to Tristan's apartment and knocked on the door, hoping he was not busy.

Gavin was writing. The desk was perfect for it. Comfortable. Soothing. He'd written two chapters already this week, long hand, writing in a thick notebook with his favorite pen. He was distracted, but not too much to know Anastasia was there, with him...

This was good.

She wasn't sure what had brought this decision about, other than she knew it was long past time she talked her her husband. Ex-husband it would soon be, and it was important that they talk to each other instead of just through the lawyers. She didn't want this to be any more awkward than it had to be, and the fact of the matter was that she and Gavin were still going to see Trevor from time to time.

More than that, she didn't want him to hate her. Because she didn't hate him. At all.

Feeling sort of sick, she knocked on the door of what used to be her home and waited.

With minimal preparations needing to be done for tonight's ball, Tristan whistled contently as he dropped off presents at the front desk for both Anastasia Rhiannon and Harvey. His phone in hand he also arranged flower deliveries for Anastasia and apartment 117.

~*~
From were he sat, fully clad in uniform on the edge of his cot, Eli hoped his package was being delivered to Bea. Sure, they'd celebrated earlier, but Jerry had promised to deliver Bea's last Valentines present on time.

Not to override her brother, Liz had put in a call for flowers, two dozen of them since one dozen didn't seem like enough.

~*~
Erin, not entirely in the mood to celebrate but still going to get ready for the ball, stopped by Joe's apartment and hung a small gift bag on his door knob. Inside was a present and a note saying You should always have a little luck within reach.

As for the other men she'd thought about for this particular holiday, well, she'd see how tonight went.

The pool house had been specially warmed for the occasion and extra loungers brought up. Screens had been erected for the models to change behind and everything was ready for the beautiful people to arrive.

They had their schedules - the ones who would be wearing the collection items and those who would be providing a back drop - and it was anticipated that the shoot would last most of the day and maybe into the evening. There was no knowing.

[ooc: Party post so tag in and let the pups chat amongst themselves, or if they want input from one of the staff, please give us a poke.]

All the boxes had been emptied, and the ball room was full of clothes and clothes and clothes, on racks and on chairs and in stacks and in bags.

There were a few makeshift curtains between the pillars, and Lewis was hopping between them like a goblin, bringing new suggestions for outfits, or parading his makeshift models in front of a big mirror.

He was being followed by a calm woman in her fifties who was wordlessly scribbling on a large pad, Andras who was snapping the 'winning' outfits with a compact camera, and a little girl of about five who just gaped at everything and tried to stay out of the way.

When Andras almost fell over her, he just turned, grabbed her, put them on his shoulders before she could even squeal, and just carried on working as if she wasn't there.

Into the Mocha they went and Kris looked around, seeing a few of the gorgeous faces and bodies he had hoped to see, and he cleared his throat and tapped on a table to attract their attention.

"Um - ladies, gentlemen," he said, "we are in - frankly - awful trouble and are hoping some of you might be kind enough to help us out. The fact is - we have a designer and a complete collection of clothing but the photographer and all the models are stuck in Switzerland. So - would you be prepared to wear Lewis's clothes and have photos taken? What do you say?"

He looked round hopefully. "Anyone?"

The Super Bowl was playing on the small tv set in the corner, but Gavin wasn't paying much attention. He was working on the desk. It was coming to life under his fingers and the soft rag he'd covered with furniture polish, smoothing out the scratches and clean every crevice. It was a gorgeous desk, and he hummed happily under his breath as he worked.

Anastasia had been out painting all day. She didn't know what it was and most of it she couldn't remember. But one of the paintings she'd finished had been of Tristan, and she wanted to show him.
With the painting tucked against her arm and her sweater and slip dress still covered in paint, she knocked.

"...how about this one?" Gavin pointed at the green plaid sofa. It didn't smell *too* bad. And it had only a few stains.

They needed furniture, and neither of them had enough cash to drop on anything really nice.

Tristan had done as he said and lived up to taking the day off from work for her. He went out shopping in the morning for supplies to make lasagna, put most of it together and turned to the football game he'd recorded. He was a true fan of the Saints, and had grabbed his hoodie to tug on as he heard a knock on the door.

Obviously, with new schedules and working practices, one would have days where people got confused.

Today was just such a day where Charlie and Andy had arrived almost simultaneously and Allan had ambled downstairs, looking like an unmade bed, to see if he could score some coffee and craic.

So there they were, going about thir business in their own ways - and just as well too since none of the desk staff had turned up.

He'd been thinking about her since the benefit. He hadn't explained anything to her about Rhiannon and he hadn't even gone to talk to her. Picking up his phone off his desk he thumbed his way through a message to her.

Sorry about the other night. Didn't mean to ignore you, just got a lil distracted.

Anastasia walked into the small, one room staff apartment that Ms. Vale had generously agreed to let them have until another became available and couldn't stop her nose from crinkling.

"Oh my, Elspeth wasn't kidding," she said as she looked around. No one looking to live in the Manor would agree to pay for an apartment in as much need of repair as this one was, or with this smell, unless they were desperate.

And Gavin and Anastasia were that.

Trevor had listened to the whole story stone-faced, fists clenched. When it was through, Gavin was sure his brother was going to pound the shit out of him. Instead, Trevor just stood.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

It wasn't more than Gavin had expected. "I'm sorry, Trev."


"You're not sorry, you little fucker. How could you be? You're fucking my wife. Why would you be sorry about that? I know how it is, remember?"

Gavin shook his head. "That's not why I'm sorry. I love her, man. I'm sorry because..."

"If you say I love you too, I'll fucking drop you to the floor and beat the shit out of you," Trevor said flatly. "You both don't love me, or else you wouldn't be doing this."

"We couldn't help it," Gavin said, feeling guilty anyway.

"Well," Trevor said without sympathy, "You should've. Now pick up your shit and get the fuck out."

Gavin, knowing there was nothing more to say, did.

But he went to Anastasia, which is where his heart belonged.