Morningstar Manor

Urquhart was sitting on a low planter full of colourful asters, eating fresh figs he just bought at the market from a rough brown paper bag.

They were purple, velvety, of a deliciously resilient texture, taut soft skin around the abundance of seed inside.

Urquhart knew exactly what the fruit reminded him of as he bit into the next one with strong white teeth, breaking the skin easily, tearing out a sweet, delicious chunk of sweetly dripping fertility.

When he was done with it, he spat the tough little stalk deftly into the gutter.-

Guy took a break between pickups and bought a coffee and took it to the angel statue. He liked sitting in the shadow of the big green wings while he drank. It made him feel safe.

###

Ben also had a drink - tea he had made himself. It was getting cold on the counter while he unpacked and shelved books. The door was wide open and the workmen were in and out whistling. Ben was very pleased with the way the work was going. The soft pale turquoise paint on the walls made him feel happy and relaxed. he hoped it would have the same effect on his customers.

###

Charlie should have been answering emails but a thought had struck him and he'd gone and found a sheet of paper and had got out some pastels and was making a glorious smudgy mess that was slowly beginning to look like the City on a windswept and rainy evening. He was particularly enjoying doing the neon reflections in puddles.

There was a big smudge of pink across his cheek.

###

Allan pumped the bellows watching the iron go from red to a glowing yellow-pink, then he took it from the fire to the anvil and picked up his hammer. White sparks showered as he struck, and again. He wasn't making anything in particular, but it really helped him to think.

Emma thought she was doing really well, not only did the constantly being watched feeling not freak her out, but she was actually feeling remarkably comfortable with it. Unlike Ang, who'd been down earlier while Alec was out with Faith and Gavin, she hadn't wanted to be alone was her reasoning for visiting, but then she'd confessed to the pregnancy and Emma understood more. After their visit, Ang had headed home for dinner, and Emma had walked Lily then left her back in the apartment to come down to the Mocha and web browse on her netbook in company. She wasn't looking for much, just ideas, and the odd fact about various painting movements and fashion trends, and if she could find it, something nice for Halloween.... She'd just given up on one site, nothing but nothing would have her going anywhere dressed as a pumpkin when something made her look over her shoulder...

Allan breezed into the gallery with ash in his hair and dirt on his face and a totally smashed cell phone in his hand. It was a casualty of him trying to move a load of stone from one part of his workshop to another without checking where he was going to put it down and he had remembered he needed to call Cartwright about another visit to look over his 'model'. Surely the gallery could tell him the number?

But first he had to observe the formalities.

"Whoa Emma," he whooped. "Are all dose legs yours? All the way up? Jaysus, just the sight of you makes an old man happy!"

Monday morning. Kids were back in school, people back to work, and at this time the major morning rush had already come and gone leaving the Mocha relatively quiet.

Deacon had dropped Nia off at the daycare and was enjoying a coffee and muffin. He'd texted Charlie as he walked across the lobby. Bfast in Mocha?

***

Seth was in the Mocha too and he'd waved to Deacon when he spotted him but didn't go to join him. He was sketching away in his book, sipping coffee, and bopping about in his seat as he listened to this music coming through his headphones.

***

Gabe was stretched out on one of the couches, coffee in one hand and phone pressed to his ear in the other. "Darling I know I wasn't there but honestly - what where you thinking? It was the Emmy's! You could have at least gone to Angels. I mean I might not be there but my people are good. Cuz honey - your hair..."

***

Demitri was up early. He didn't have a class until later this afternoon. And though he no longer ran the Mocha he liked to see that it was doing well. He sat by the window, looking out at the street and the people going by and thinking on the things that had happened in the past few months. And smiled softly.

***

Max and Micah sat at another table, both drinking coffee and looking through the paper.

Jane was, for a change, in the library. All right, no so much of a change, as just in a different part of the library to her usual favourite reading corner. Today she'd had the afternoon off and was firmly tucked into a table, writing notes and reading through a number of text books she'd found on interior design. Well, she figured she was going to need all the help she could get, what with college starting up in a week or so, and evening classes were going to be hard work on top of the crèche job, but, she was determined to make something of herself. Somehow. It was just going to be very very hard for a bit.

Maybe too hard? She wibbled, and her confidence wavered, enough to make her bury her head in her hands, but after a few moments she lifted her head back up and muttered something firmly, if under her breath...

Kris had been passing the florists and had been drawn in by the wonderful heady scent. Now he was crossing the Square with his purchases - a bunch of brilliant orange tiger lilies and a cactus of hilariously suggestive shape - and was debating what to drop of where. Celeste seemed like a good sport but would she appreciate a wang shaped cactus? Demitri on the other hand would probably find it as funny as he did.

Sometimes being sophisticated was such hard work that Kris gave it a miss.

###

Ylva was in Riverwalk Park with her lunch and a book. She was possibly a little too close to the Manor for comfort but the park was full of blondes today, she'd blend in.

She crossed long tanned legs, settled her sunglasses more firmly on her nose and turned a page.

###

The roof garden was open again, if a little sparse of plants, and Nick was on his knees unpacking the crate that had been left for the Manor by the Sexton family. At least this time there had been family. So often, he'd heard, they had carefully packed the lost life away into boxes and crates, had sent the furniture to auction for charity and had packed everything away. Rooms and rooms full of memories and nobody to appreciate them.

But this was another matter, he thought, as he uncovered the piece of relief sculpture and the discreet little plaque he was supposed to mount near it.

###

Allan lay flat on his back in the garden, with his eyes closed and his arms spread out. The un shone down and he was warm and drowsy and full of lunch and thinking hard about his latest bronze. It was back and he was halfway through finishing it and he was worried that Deacon and Charlie wouldn't like it. It hadn't turned out the way he'd intended at all.

But he'd worry about that later. For now he was warm - and might go to sleep.

Leo had tea and Jimmy had coffee.
Charlie chose a muffin,
Vanilla or banoffee.
Allan, all bruised,
And Vincenzo, off duty,
sighed as they glimpsed
Ms Vale's passing booty.
Nick scowled at Scruffy,
Scruffy wagged his tail.
Fin pieced together
some dog-spitty mail.
And finally Ruth, with her nose in a book,
didn't spare any of the above one look.
There in the Mocha, one girl and seven boys,
Trying to give Maru's pups a bit of choice.

Morning, earlyish, and Leo was in the Mocha drinking tea while he opened his mail. There was rather a lot of it - tea and mail both.

#

Mid morning and Allan dragged himself down to the lobby and stood blinking at the sunlight outside. "I shouldn't have gone to that shebeen las' night," he said. "I got a headache - an' my ass hurts."

"Too much information," Vincenzo said.

"Aww shit I don't mean like that," Allan protested. He scowled and rubbed his back just below his jeans waistband, hitching up his tee-shirt.

Vincenzo stared then looked hurriedly away. "I - er - wouldn't rub that if I were you," he said. "It's a scratch. Looks nasty."

"Ah, right. I'll get Leena to put something on it," Allan said and took a deep breath before plunging out into the goddammed sunshine.

#

Lunchtime and Vincenzo was in the conservatory eating a roll and snickering into his phone as he talked to Enzo. "No honest," he said, "he had no idea at all."

#

Gil crossed the Square, heading for the Flamingo Lounge. He was pale and had dark shadows under his eyes and was looking forward to being able to sleep again without dreaming of that bloody chunk of human flesh dripping in his kitchen.

He shuddered. wishing that he didn't have to be the capable, reassuring one. Sometimes being grown up sucked.

#

Charlie left the gallery in the early evening and paused to look up at the angel statue. The past two days he had worked hard and had caught up with about half the paperwork from the past week. Another two days and he could start on this weeks. There was a kind of satisfaction in that, if he studied it objectively.

Not much, but a little.

On Saturday afternoon, Vine Square was busy as usual. Many people were about, among them:

• Sibyl, who was browsing the basket of bits, scraps and ends in front of the Indian shop; they always had interesting little bits that would come in useful at some stage
• Andras, who was talking to somebody on the phone, throwing around all sort of technical terms while lounging on the steps of the angel statue
• Chandika, who was trying to keep Hanu under control on his leash while at the same time trying to cheer up little Rahul by promising him ice cream; she couldn't see any, though, and started looking decidedly harried
• Ricky, who was cheerfully bopping along while making a meandering diagonal across the entire square; he was wearing big earphones labelled 'Bose' that held back his fluffy blond curls
• Cindy, who was sitting in front of the building that was up for renovation next, just looking at it
• Urquhart, who was sitting outside the Auberge watching people being busy while sipping a triple espresso.

[[OOC: Say in your tag whom you want! Open all weekend.]]

The class was in full swing when Allan looked up and notice Ms Grey from the Manor. "Hi," he said, "come on in - bleah!"

That last as the toddler on his knee turned round and shoved a hand coated in blue paint into his mouth. Allan laughed and reached for the tissues.

He had been perfectly right. There was a lot of paperwork but most of it seemed to have been started at least so Charlie was able to mop the remainder up in an hour and then address his most pressing other problem, which was to get in touch with those of his partners who were interested in helping with the summer classes.

Allan was no help. "Nobody under eighteen," he stated emphatically. "In fact nobody who isn't prepared to sculpt wearing a cheerleaders costume need apply. Tell 'em to bring their own pompoms."

"You're disgusting," Charlie shouted as Allan pompomed out of the room, heading for the desk and Leena. Then he settled down to email Seth and Anastasia with variations on the theme of "hey gorgeous, get your lovely body down here so we can talk about summer education *nudge nudge, wink wink*"

Actually there wasn't that much difference in the wording between them.

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... )

Some of the things Sean helped himself to were easy enough to dispose of. Cash for instance - he needed to eat as well. Little bits and pieces could be given to friends as gifts or swapped for a toke or even a baggie. "Uncle" was usually happy to accept bags and coats as long as nobody was about to see Sean hand them over. But credit cards, passports and other high value items were a bit more chancy for Sean to deal with himself.

Luckily he had a 'friend' and knew where to find him. ( Read more... )

The Lamb was never exactly quiet but Wednesday was one of its slightly less busy nights and there were a few free tables and the dartboard was free.

Charlie came in and looked around, waved to Molly and headed for the bar. "Hello sweetheart," he said. "Happy thhhhhhinko da mayo. Guiness please. Ah - and one for my friend here. What're you having?"

In her lunch break, Sibyl was wandering around the back of the farmers' market today, with a large coffee in her hand.

She was looking for Allan's studio. Farriery round the back, he had said? Did this look like a stable yard here?

It might have been. Amazing how some horse-age infrastructure had survived here, reused for lots of other things.

If she didn't find Allan, she'd just ask somebody.

Today Allan had decided, would be a rest day.

So he was - flat on his back in a patch of light shade with a pillow under his head and not in the least concerned about snoring.

Ten o'clock had been the time so Allan made sure to be out there in good time, found a post to lean again and kicked his heels waiting to see a suitably big, long and black vehicle.

There was a surprising number of them in the City and Allan grinned to himself as he returned from bothering yet another blameless driver and leaned back against his post again.

"And about time too," Leena said, chasing Allan into the office. She shut the door after him and he scowled at the bit of paper in his hand and slumped into the chair by the desk. He didn't like using the phone, especially for something like this - contacting a potential customer - but time had gone on and even Charlie was beginning to get a bit testy with him.

Allan sighed and picked up the phone and dialled the number.

One ring - two - maybe she wasn't there?

Allan didn't much enjoy his times in the gallery. He was no kind of salesman - being a doing rather tthan telling sort of person - so found the office quite boring.

However there was Leena to flirt with and Sean to help with the framing and he would move stuff if asked to. It was part of the deal.

Also part of the deal was minding the desk when leena needed a break so he sat there, swinging gently in the chair and played solitaire on the desk computer.