Morningstar Manor

Travis had an appointment to see Mr. Moray. He didn't know what to wear or what to expect, so he'd shaven and dressed in a pair of khaki pants and blue polo shirt. Leaving the Manor, he hailed a cab and wound up stuck in a bit of traffic, putting him at Moray Records just on time. He didn't like running just on time for things, and first impressions were a lot...

The clock on his cell phone said two on the dot when he got out of the cab. He jogged over the sidewalk, pulled open the door and stepped inside. The clock there said two oh two. Shit he thought, hoping their clock was even just a little fast.

"Hey on, not sure if you're still looking for work but My friend Mr Moray of the Moray Record Company has an opening for a general assistant. You can drive, can't you? Because he'd need some deliveries done. Not need to worry if you haven't got your own transport, that would be provided. You get a pencil now and I'll give you the number to call to set up a meeting, 'kay?

....
...
..
.

Ready? Okay ..." he reeled off the phone number then repeated it.

"You give him a call and tell him Mr Vision said you should. Good luck, son."

It was Saturday morning, and around the ground floor and basement, people were busy:

• Chandika was looking around the place that was going to be the creche, admiring the colours and furniture, trailing the smell of coffee, from the cappuccino in her hand;
• Ricky was in the conservatory, drinking tea, but still smelling slightly of last night's hemp smoke;
• Manny was in the lobby, home from his morning run with a bright, sportsy push-pram, still hopping as he waited by the elevators, a faint smell of used diapers coming from the pram if you bent over little Morgan, who was fast asleep in there;
• Charlotte was just entering by the grand doors, having been shopping already, the scent of mixed perfume testers coming from the small but exquisite Michaels Brothers bag dangling from her hand;
• Cindy was in the first elevator that stopped and opened, with her dog and in a marathon-class racing wheelchair, leaving a scent of citrus shampoo as she cheerfully left for her morning run;
• Marek was in the ballroom, going through classical exercises at furious speed, smelling of nothing but the dust motes moving through him, undisturbed;
• and Ashley was in the library, looking at art books and loving the scent of old books in the morning.

There were several familiar faces gracing the Mocha this morning.

Jason sat at a table in the corner - his uniform looking crisp, shoes polished, badge cleaming - and sipped a coffee as he worked on some forms attached to a clipboard.

***

Demitri had some early lessons to teach this morning so had stopped in for coffee and a bagel.

***

Max had numerous meetings to attend to that day so was up as well, dressed smartly and having his coffee and reading the paper while he waited for Micah to arrive with the car.

***

Erik too was in the Mocha, having tea before heading to a meeting with his agent.

Niles was sitting at the bar in the Upstairs, contemplating playing again at the open mic night. His last one had went over fairly well and God knew he had about a million songs he could play off the top of his head, but something just wasn't sitting right with him.
He took a drink of his beer as he thought it over.

"... and they are all doing really well here!"

Ricky had risen much earlier than usual to day and was trying to shine while he was showing his garden plot to an older woman in ostentatiously eccentric clothes.

She was sipping a chai latte from the Mocha, and nodding at all the plants.

"This is a lovely place," she said, "full of growth and beauty! Green things seem to love it here."

Ricky nodded, as if the praise was a personal badge of honour.

It had been a typical Monday. Typical in the sense that it made Isabella want to rip her hair out and drink herself to sleep. Garfield had certainly had a point, but she'd never known that particular orange cat to lead her astray. 
Instead of drinking or eating herself into oblivion, she decided to put on her new red bikini and  take advantage of the still-bright sun and the sweltering heat and take a look at the Manor's pool for the very first time.

Ricky had brought up his bike from the garage, and wheeled it through to a secluded spot in the back of the garden.

There, he lovingly polished every shiny part of his lovely, lovely Harley. Only in real sunlight could you see if you were doing it right at all.

And he was going about it almost meditatively, humming to himself as he rubbed.

Niles was sitting in the furthest corner of the garden, indian-style on the grass with a growing but still tiny Lola batting at a seeded dandelion. He was wearing a pair of black, cut off below the knee Dickies work pants and an old white T-shirt with the Frankenberry Cereal box on it, holding a battered old acoustic guitar that he was quietly strumming and singing along with. He was working on a cover for the next night he was at the Upstairs, and well...It was sort of embarassing. He didn't want his neighbors listening, even if he did think it would be hilarious and ironic. Sometimes shit like that just lost it's luster when taken out of context as it very well could be if a grown man was seen singing Rihanna in a serious fashion.


Anastasia was sitting cross legged in the middle of the conservatory wearing a pair of low rise jeans and a tank top that had made her smile and think of someone when she saw it, camera-ninjaing the crap out of random flowers. She was waiting to hear back from Charlie concerning some of her paintings and the showing over the weekend, and that combined with the stress at home had sent her out and about after dinner, looking for anything that didn't involve conflict.  Since this wasn't Alice in Wonderland, the flowers were mercifully quiet and compliant. 

Isabella had had a bad day and was currently trying to unwind in the Mocha in  comfortable clothes and with one of her favorite books. It didn't seem to be working, though. It was getting close to father's day and the end of June, and this time of year always made her a little edgy. The coffee, for once, seemed to be amping her up instead of settling her down as it usually did. So, she settled for spinning a pack of creamer on her table, watching it spin and contemplating things she hadn't talked about in years.

Ricky was sitting in the laundry room, watching three loads rotate with the hypnotised contentment of a dozing cat.

He didn't even listen to the music. He just sat there, and watched.-

Ricky was sitting on the ground in the garden and whistling some disjointed little melody while planing a row of herbs on one of the little tenants' plots.

They all came from a big box that was labelled 'Organic Vegetables For The City!' and were a gift from his mother. So of course he had to plant them and take care of them. She was likely to come check!

Ricky was under a tree, looking up at the sky through the fine, lacy tracery of thin twigs and dappled green leaves, and pondering. There was enough to ponder: - if he stopped to think for a moment, he had to admit that Jimmy and his guys were really worrisome, and if they ever found out, the slurry tank was going to hit the rotor blades.-

He had company, though. A big, fluffy red cat had rolled up in his lap and pretended to sleep; however, if Ricky stopped scritching  for more than a heartbeat, the cat opened an eye and nudged his hand with an insistent pink nose.

Neither of them seemed much inclined to move.-

It was a lovely afternoon and Andy was free and since Erik would, inevitably, be working, she had decided to go out - right out.

Charlie had been looking after Nia when she banged on his door and took one look at her face and handed over his keys without even an attempt at a gibe about rivers and avoiding falling into them. She thanked him politely then took the elevator to the parking garage and ten minutes later was heading across the City at quite a reasonable pace.

How do you tell a happy motorcyclist? He's the one with his teeth full of flies.

The Landlocked City Rollers were back home and ready to fight. Inside Rollerama IV, bleachers were set up and a decent sized and excited crowd filled them. The derby girls were already in their skates and team uniforms, rolling around and greeting their friends.

( The crappy exposition written at 3am continues! )

((OOC - Party post rules can apply if you want to talk amongst yourselves in the crowd! Otherwise, Lara can be caught at anytime pre, post, or halfway through the game!))

Am finding things to post like this:



Or even better, this:



I particularly agree with number 7 and number 10.

And this guy is my hero:



How is everyone today?

'Don't spend it all at once,' the email had said.

But really, it wasn't as if he was buying a dead rapper's mansion or something. Ricky had had his eye on the object of his dreams for a while, and now, knowing there was enough money to bolster him for a bit, he went and pounced on it.

So, this Saturday afternoon, there was a roar in front of the Manor, and Ricky arrived in style -- helmet-less, on a used classic Harley! He parked his less-than-gleaming vehicle on the sidewalk for the moment and wandered in to find somebody from the staff that would tell him where to put it in the garage.

To while away the waiting, he got himself a coffee from the Mocha and was hanging about the lobby, coffee in hand and happy to babble off at everybody. Oh, and drag them outside to admire and worship the Harley!

It had taken some working out but luckily Amarie had had the invaluable help of her Wyrm's search engine. It was one of the fancy ones where you could actually ask it questions, and had given her a very full answer with full instructions when she had typed "What's the best way to give someone 5 percent of the interest of 45 million without anyone else finding out?" and she had followed them carefully.

So she wrote the note carefully, double checked the details and trotted down to pop it in his mailbox - the name of the bank in Zurich, the number of the account and the password for the internet access all underlined in sparkly pink gel pen.

"The first payment is already in there," she wrote. "Don't you spend it all at once!!"

It had already been a rough couple of days when Jazz somehow managed to drop her keys into her cup of coffee as she turned away from the Mocha's counter intent on finding a seat. There was a muted thunk as they hit the bottom, and as she paused in mid-stride, staring into the brown depths of her cup in disbelief, the stack of mail she'd tucked under her other arm slid smoothly to the floor. Bills, a magazine, a couple of flyers and a thick packet with the return address "Rutherford University" scattered in all directions.

"Ah, fuck," she swore in Spanish.

At a nearby table a woman with her young son looked up, shooting her a dirty look and covering her son's ears.

"Oh, please," Jazz sneered. "Like he even knows what it means. Trust me, they don't teach that one on Dora."

The woman looked properly affronted and quickly gathered up her son and other belongings before scooting away. Their table empty, Jazz set her key-coffee down on it and then got down on the floor to hunt up her mail.

Chalie sat on the raised edge of his plot and watched Nia playing in the dirt while he had a slightly fraught phone call with his mother.

Actually Bella had been very understanding about the situation. It was true that taking Nia out of the county without her absent mother's permission would be frowned upon [although they were confident that given Deacon and Sam's mutual contacts permission would be fairly readily obtained]. But telling his mum that they couldn't come home because Deacon was competing in a cross country race probably wouldn't go down too well.

Of course Bella had made contingency plans and Charlie was assuring her that they were fine!

"Yes, we'll pick you up from the airport and you can stay as long as - oh, a month? Well brilliant! That'll give you and Maude Temminck lots of time to get into trouble." Charlie listened again then chuckled. "Yeah, can't wait. Yep. Yes, will do, Mum. Love you too. He says what? Really? Tell him the same to him!" He laughed. "Yeah, right. Bye, yeah bye, you too. Nia say bye bye to Nana."

Nia leaned across and gave the phone a big wet kiss. "Bye bye Nana," she said and by the time Charlie got the phone back to his ear the call was finished.

He didn't blame his mum. He felt a bit like crying too.

It was her usual haunt during the summer and today was no exception. Dressed in her signature blood red and very small bikini Eris floated on an inflatable in the middle of the pool. It was good to be home.