Morningstar Manor

Thomas had pulled on his knee-lenght black jacket and was having a cigarette in the cramped little courtyard behind La Fee Verte by the employees entrance. He took every small chance to have a cigarette since those chances came very rarely, and he sure needed the nicotine to get through without snapping at the customers or the waiters. What really did not help his blood pressure was the fact that he had not seen his dear bonita in a long while properly and this week, he had realized, did not even know what was going on with her or where she was. What was even worse was that he was on the phone with his sister Beatrix. Thomas paced up and down in the courtyard arguing with her - she had apparently decided to come and visit him and her son Lucas some time soon, and Thomas really could not be very thrilled about the news.

*

Wearing her chef's whites and her long hair on a bun, Emily sat down heavily on the chair in the kitchen office of La Fee Verte. She held a big coffee mug between her hands and stared at the paperwork on her desk and the emails that needed answering. When would she have time to do all those? She needed to be making mise en place for the Christmas specials and finishing the orders for the New Year's specials. She felt like every year the Christmas season got harder and busier and more taxing than the last one, and always at this time of the year she found herself wondering if she should quit or she might get a serious case of burn-out.

Absent-mindedly Emily sipped her coffee, and flinched right away. She cursed under her breath - she had not realized to wait for the coffee to cool down enough and had instead burnt her tongue. Great. She really needed a day off, or even better, a short holiday. She had no had time to go dancing with Vincenzo in a while, or even spend time with him properly other than crawling to bed to sleep next to him for a few hours before one of them needed to go to work again. Just a couple more weeks, Emily thought, and it would be January and a lot quieter.

*

Lucas was idly stirring a cup of karma chai at home. During the last few months the new kind of tea had become a habit for him and he had a cup or two every day. Last night's party, however, got the young man slightly suspicious of it. What kind a tea could also be injected and used like a legal drug? He wondered how soon the papers would be full of demands for making karma chai illegal, but then again, he had not noticed any real harmful symptoms of it. Not really - the dreams had to be because of stress, anyway. Right?

*

Walking down the street watching all the shop windows full of seasonal decorations, and all the families busying themselves together shopping for Christmas on the last weekend before the holiday itself, Robbie thought he should have taken up the offer from his family and travel home to Ireland for Christmas. Stubbornly he had decided to stay in the City, concentrate on getting some over-due things done for work, and spend Christmas alone. What more was it anyway than a few extra days off, that's all. Except that everyone else was with their families, their children and wives and insufferable mother-in-laws. Robbie had no idea what he would do over Christmas, other than watch classic films from TV that he had seen a hundred times. Where was the point in making any Christmas food or putting up decorations either when you were alone?

*

Laura had decided to spend her day off wrapping Christmas presents. No matter how much she despised the holiday, she could not deny the fact that she made neat and beautiful gift wrappings. She was going to drive to New York next week to spend Christmas with her family, and she had had to get gifts for her parents and cousins and grand-parents and practically the whole family. She still had not remembered to ask Smith what he was doing on Christmas, but seeing as the difficult and potentially dangerous situation with his job had not yet been cleared, Laura doubted he would agree to come with her to New York. Nevertheless, Laura wrapped his Christmas present in a stylish silver-and-blue paper and without even realizing it herself, was humming a mix of Christmas songs.

(OOC: Mun shows she is still not dead and that the people in her head are also alive, and starting to chatter amongst each other again. I might activate again soon!)

In the afternoon after getting his laundry to the washer, Robbie went to the games room next door and picked up a pool stick. While waiting he entertained himself in a lonely game of pool.

*

Emily chatted up Lucas in the queue of the Mocha and interviewed him about working at the Flamingo Lounge and what kind of a boss Gil was. After they both got their orders, Lucas headed outside to the Gardens for a cigarette to go with his coffee, while Emily headed towards the coffeeshop with her cappuccino looking for a table.

*

Thomas hadn't had a chance to check his mail in several days so now in the evening on Sunday, coming home from work, he stopped by in the lobby floor to see if had received anything of interest. He stood there in the mail room going through the pile in his dark suit, sorting them in appropriate piles.

*

Laura had decided that a good way to end the weekend was a long yoga excercise topped off with a swim on the roof. Having done all that, she descended into the hot tub in her white bikini, laid back, and relaxed.

Hey Playboy, I've got a really bad movie that you should come and watch with me. This is by no means a way to get you here so I could tell you the result of the pregnancy test.

She actually had taken a test but only to confirm what she already knew. Maybe it had been a little cruel to keep the poor man in suspense over the matter but Laura thought of it as revenge for breaking up with her.

After much introspection - in her case curiously enough it was the physical kind of introspection - Laura finally decided to head up to see Smith. She was relatively certain she had nothing to worry about, but it was enough that they had almost gotten themselves in a very tricky situation. In a loose dark purple sweater and tight black jeans she knocked on his door but she really had no idea if he was at home or at work.

Laura stood in the Conservatory with a cup of tea in her hands and a frown on her face. She was still trying to figure out if she had been just incredibly drunk or something in the party to think that the place had been a tropical island, and to forget all about safety or privacy. Now the Conservatory looked like it always had before Saturday night, and she was wondering if she should find out if it had simply been decorated very well.

Declan stood outside of the Mocha in the garden, wearing a casual black sweater with the sleeves pushed up and a pair of jeans. His phone was pressed to his ear and his head was in his opposite hand that also held a lit cigarette. On the other end of the line his mother was informing him that his sister was coming to stay with him whether he wanted her too or not. His sister was a grown woman, but apparently she'd gotten in some trouble and needed a change of scenery. Declan loved his sister and they'd always had fun together, but he'd never had to be responsible for her either. 

Smith sat in the back corner at a table with his back against a wall out of habit. One might say that he looked grumpy and they would be right. He was miserable and completely pissed off, which was a bad combination. He wanted to beat the shit out of something, but he'd already pounded the punching bag in the gym to dust more times than he could count this week. He missed Laura. He wanted her back, but how did he get her? He'd pretty much burned that bridge the last time he'd seen her. Sighing, he took a sip of his coffee and glared at the world in general. 

Oliva was sitting on one of the couches with her legs tucked up beside her and her shoes on the ground in front of her, wearing a dark blue sweater dress that draped to bare one shoulder. There was a bag next to her from a Halloween shop in the City and a large photo book in her lap that was all about the works of Alberto Vargas and his pin-ups. She adored retro pin-up art, and she was looking into buying one of his paintings. What better way to make an informed decision than to read up and look at all of his work?

Isabella stood in line with her hands tucked into the pockets of her new, cream colored coat. She smiled at everyone that looked at her. She was in a fabulous mood and had been for over a week now. Micah and her were getting along amazingly well, her mom had come out of her surgery okay, and things were just... Good. Almost frighteningly so.

Back at the Manor and back to work and Erik was pleased to see that the trip back to the UK had given him a fresh perspective on things. He'd gotten a decent bit of work done on his latest piece last night. Early this morning he'd gone to check on the herbs in his plot in the gardens, and now he sat in the Mocha having a cup of tea and looking through a left over newspaper.

So far it had been a productive morning.

They said that Mondays were the worst, but Laura was convinced that every freaking day could be worse than the previous one. She entered the Mocha with a frown on her face. Maybe it was just a combination of stress and the depression of the approaching winter and bad luck at work that was making her constantly feel like shit. No way it was because of one stupid man, no.

She got a mocha latte from Joy, glaring at her as spitefully as the barista looked at her, and turned to find a table walking her steel heels that clacked on the floor uncomfortably sharply.

Olivia sat with Laura on a stool at the bar in Babylon, wearing a blue dress, killer heels, and well on her way to getting well and thorougly sloshed. She thought it might make her feel better, but instead it was just feeding into her anger.
"Why do tall, dark, hot, Irishmen have to be such fucking pricks?" she muttered to Laura before doing another shot of tequila.

I want to get really drunk and make a fool of myself. Wanna join me? ~Laura

Laura had not seen Smith for a week, so after another Tai Chi class without him she decided to go up a floor from her apartment to his. She¨put on a black jacket on top of her white long shirt, grabbed her keys and walked up the stairs to the seventh floor on her high heels.

She knocked on the door half-expecting him not to be at home - she figured he was just busy with work, but that didn't stop her from missing him and hoping to see him.

In the morning Lucas was having a smoke in the gardens before heading to work. To bide his time he was juggling his cell phone, wallet and a pack of cigarettes. It didn't matter if they fell - the yellowed grass was soft enough even for the phone. He tried some new moves he had seen a while ago - throwing one item behind his back and so on, and occasionally he succeeded in it.

*

Around noon Emily could be found sitting in the Mocha with her laptop and some notes she had scribbled down. She was writing a new Me2Me2 blog entry - it had come to her habit to write a public foodie post twice a week - and this time she was sharing ideas and recipes on stir-frys.

*

In the evening Laura left her apartment to go down to the Mocha. Not that she really wanted anything special, but she felt like moving about in case she would bump into Smith since she had a strange feeling about him. She joined the queue in the Mocha, however, without having seen a glimpse of him, and eyed the apple pie wondering if it had any nuts in it or not.

*

Robert peeked his head out of his apartment and since the corridor was empty, he left and walked to the elevator. He had been avoiding Olivia all week and felt terrible about it. So terrible in fact that he felt like having a pint or five, and so he was going to the Slaughtered Lamb.

*

Dressed in a charcoal suit with a dark violet shirt with no tie, Thomas entered Sanctuary after work. It had been an unusually long while since he had been out the last time - two weeks! - so he was happy to feel a familiar buzz when he was surrounded by loud music, women with long legs and short skirts and other people as concerned with appearances as he was.

Anastasia was down in the gym on the tredmill in a pair of retro blue running shorts with white stripes going up the side and a white tank top. There was a look of sad concentration on her face as she ran mile after mile and thought about her husband. What he'd accused her of, how much merit there was to it, and all the accusations that she could have thrown at him, but didn't.
She sighed as she cleared the eight mile mark, breathing heavy and sweating as she finally turned the machine off and sat down, pressing a bottle of cold water to her forehead. She should think about something good, like what she wanted to do with her new studio.

Niles lay on his back under Piglet in the garage, changing the oil. His white t-shirt had grease splatters all over it and his hands were black, but he didn't care. He liked taking care of his girl. She was distracting in a good way and loved him unconditionally as long as he took care of her. All women should be so simple. Then again, if they were that simple he'd never hold interest. 
He sighed, wishing he were as simple as his car too.

Isabella sat in the Mocha in a cream colored sweaterdress, her cell phone in front of her and a blank expression on her face. She'd gotten a call from her father of all people. She hadn't talked to him in over seven years and he'd call to tell her that her mother was in the hospital with some sort of kidney infection. She marveled at how he still sounded the same. It was a voice she hadn't heard in several years, but she could still pick out of a crowd anywhere. She missed him. She worried about her mother. Pinching the area between her eyes, she took a sip of coffee and pondered what she should do.

Smith sat on a bench in the conservatory in a grey t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans, hiding out in there mostly because he figured it was the last place anyone would look for him. His cell phone was opened and he'd just finished listening to Laura's voicemail for the fifth time.
She'd called him sweetie. She'd sounded understanding. Fuck, he hated doing this to her. To them.
With a weary sigh, he decided to text her back: Busy all weekend.

Bea was out in the garden with Pippa, huddled into a long, grey, grandpa-looking fuzzy cardigan. It was almost longer than the black slipdress that she'd been running around in all day. She'd been in a creative frenzy, working on fixing the final draft of her second comic. She'd only been reminded to come up for air when Pippa had let out a yowl that she'd come to understand as "take me the fuck outside before I shit on one of your shoes." Bea loved her shoes, so she didn't fuck around with that.

Declan was up by the pool again in his white linen shirt and olive green swim trunks, mostly because it was emptier this time of year and it let him get out of his apartment and still smoke. He had a lot to think on, so he did, letting the curls of smoke waft up toward the ceiling.

Olivia had been wandering the halls. She walked when she was upset, and she was definately upset now. Had been since Monday. The Manor was big enough for her to suitably work out all her neurosis without freezing her ass off, which she would definately do outside. She huddled into herself, pulling the sleeves of her pale green sweater into her palms and crossed her arms over her chest as she walked.

Hey, it's me. No Tai Chi tonight. I just don't have the time and I don't know when I will again, so don't count on me. I'll let you know.
Bye.

Emily rushed out of the elevator to the lobby looking flustered. When the doors closed behind her she shuddered and took a deep breath to gather herself. She hadn't met Betsy in a long while, and the ghost girl had not been impressed by Emily's nervous singing - she remembered people telling her that Betsy liked it when people sang, but Emily just wasn't very good at it.

*

After work Laura stopped by to the Mocha. Someone had been following her again to the Manor from the hostital - she had experimentally driven a different and much longer route than before and the car had followed her the whole way. She was worried, but at the same time relieved to be back at the Manor. It felt like a safe haven where nothing could touch her. She got a big chocolate chip cookie to go with her coffee as comfort food and found herself a small table.

Anastasia stood in line, wearing a black and white dress and red heels that matched the belt on her dress, preparing to go to her first class. She felt alright dressing up as today was her bi-weekly lecture day and that always made her nervous. She was looking over her notes, cursing silently as she shook her head. Artists learned by doing, not by listening. She couldn't tell the dean that though and this 'lecture twice a month' shit was giving her a complex.

Bea sat just outside of the Mocha's windows in the garden wearing a long gray tank top, skinny black jeans and a pair of gray flats, sipping coffee and muttering at Pippa as the puppy paced back and forth, frolicking and chasing it's tail and anything that moved instead of going poop, which was really what she'd brought her out here to do. "C'mon, baby. Please? Poop! It's too eaaarrrrllllyyy for you to be this excited," Bea said to the puppy, then sighed to herself as she was ignored once again. Although she couldn't help but smile at her puppy's cuteness.

Declan sat at a table in a white v-neck t-shirt, well fitting jeans, black boots, and a black jacket, checking stock quotes on his iPhone. He glanced up every now and then at the people that walked by, taking in the women, his mind subconciously always scanning for something great, and even...Well. He looked at the women and that was it. Or so he told himself.  Shaking his head, he turned back to his stock quotes, smiling when he saw that he was up. The world's finances might be taking a shit, but somehow Declan McNamara kept coming out on top. Dealing in tasteful pin-ups was such a good business.

Isabella sat in an overstuffed chair wearing a bright red dress that was just loud enough for a Monday morning and her typical severe black heels. Before her there were several pages of the New York Times scattered about and there was a wrinkle of concentration and worry between her brow as she took in all the new news concerning the mayor's grandson's "untimely" death.

Niles was sprawled out comfortably on the couch, wearing a black t-shirt, a pair of his usual jeans, and a brown vintage hat. Sometimes you just had to wear a hat, you know? And it wasn't like it made him look like Gilligan, he thought to himself as he flipped through the pages of Smashing, completely unaware of the blonde, beautiful girl that stood only a few feet behind him, flickering in and out of view and looking at him with longing and sadness.

Olivia was also in line wearing a long-sleeved, short gray sweater dress and a pair of purple shoes, digging through her oversized purse for her cell phone. Why did she have a purse with so much room if she kept losing shit in it? She could hear the phone beeping from somewhere in the depths and was thisclose to going all Ally Sheedy a la the Breakfast Club and dumping the thing right here, embarassing items be damned. 

Smith sat in the back corner of the Mocha looking entirely out of place in a light tan suit that he was couting the seconds until he could remove. It was the monthly 'report to your boss for bullshit day' for him, and yesterday he'd gotten a phone call from his boss saying he was tired of seeing him in black all the time and when he showed up he better be in something that could make him look like a gentleman. When Smith had told him he didn't have another suit, this was sent over. Personally, Smith thought this suit made him look like a fruit, maye even a fruit from the early seventies, but that was all likely just a part of his boss' plan.

Robbie, in his black leather jacket, stepped into the Slaughtered Lamb. There was nothing on TV, he knew all his DVD movies by heart and he had no other company, so why not have a pint in the local pub?

*

Laura felt the chills of fall on her skin as she relaxed in the lotus position in the gardens. The evening was getting cool, and she opened her eyes slowly and looked up at the sky painted with violet and rose, sensing that it was about time she would get long sleeves on after the yoga excercice.

*

Lucas stumped his cigarette right outside the main doors of the Manor and stepped inside the lobby while stifling a big yawn. He was coming home after a day - actually a week - at work waitering at the Flamingo Lounge, and he felt it in his feet.

*

Emily slowly but surely sorted through her mail in the mailroom. She had not picked it up in days because she had had better things to think about - but now she was making three different piles of mail on the small side table of the room; one for ads, the second one for bills and other painfully obligatory things and the third for things she would actually read through with interest.

*

Thomas blinked hard in the queue of the Mocha. He had not been working on tables in the restaurant on Sunday but he had been picking up on paperwork for the whole day. It had left him slightly numb and very bored, and he tried fixing that with a big mug of tea.

Smith sat in a rather silly chair, made even more silly in contrast to the big, tough looking man sitting in it. He wouldn't usually go out of his way to sit in such a chair, bright pink and over stuffed with smaller pink polka dots, but...Well...It was a waiting chair in the dressing room of a high end lingerie store.
Laura was behind the door directly across from him and who knows? She might invite him in again. It made sitting in that chair entirely worth it.

Smith had decided to be spontaneous. That's what women liked, right? And if he was planning on keeping Laura around, which he definately was, he figured he should start treating her like a proper girlfriend. 
So, dressed to the nines in a pair of perfect fit, non-holey jeans and a dark blue button down, he knocked on her door with a bouquet of elegant white flowers that had made him think of her clutched in one big fist.

After a specifically draining and stressful day at work Laura drove home trying to stop thinking about how she could have saved the gun-shot wound patient. She couldn't get the bullet out even if she did know exactly where it was, and she couldn't stop the bleeding even though she knew exactly where it came from. Her ability did not make her a miracle-maker and that frustrated her to no end. She hated it when she knew what the problem was but couldn't do anything about it.

When she got home, she grabbed her cell and sent a text to the man who had had a knack for providing excitement in the past. At least Smith's company would distract her, she thought, hoping that he wouldn't be busy at work.

Im not Jesus and that sucks. Need a distraction and I think youd be pretty good at that.