Morningstar Manor

There had been a wife. A wife and a child and forgiveness and...

Love. 

Lillian, with her green eyes and caramel skin hadn't cared about what he'd mistakenly done, leading all those people to death. She said she could look into his eyes and see a good man. And a good man he'd tried to be - for her. Her and that baby, a little boy with dark eyes that wanted to hold Jude's fingers as he fell asleep. He'd come out of that hell hole a villian. A murderer. And she'd loved him anyway.
It had been perfect. It had been everything he'd ever wanted.
It hadn't lasted longer than a year and a half. 

OOC: This marks the end of AU week! From here on out, any and all threads will take place in real time.

Urquhart was sitting in the Mocha and having a caffé latte.

He sprawled in a low chair, arm flung out, and watched people.

He liked the people in this place. There were a few he avoided, due to his affiliations and opinions, but all in all, he got on well with them all.-

Tired. He was so fucking tired anymore, and he knew it wasn't a good sign.
A look in the mirror beside his bed showed a man with missing hair. Sunken cheeks. Sallow skin and shadowed eyes. His bones looked sharp enough to break out of his skin with an especially sharp breath. He looked like death, and that was fitting.

One thing Declan McNamara knew for sure was this: He was dying.

( Read more... )

Charlie was waiting for Deacon at the appointed time without a trace of a hangover either. He smiled his way round to the passenger seat of the big black car and got in with a cheery, "Hello - oh, damn, no leather pants!"

Then they headed out of the city.( Read more... )

Mini summary: D takes Chas to meet his mum, they make a startling family history related discovery, and Chas decides he really doesn't want to repeat history and go home.

They'd called yesterday about going shopping for the new apartment, and Gregori had deliberately hired a van for the day. He knew what was coming, and armed with a toolbox, and his wallet, he called at the Manor for them, deliberately leaving the van in the parking bay outside where the taxi's and limo's pulled up. He could already see Audrey in the lobby, waving, so he waved back, grinning.

The jeans were old and beginning to fade, but still snug, the t-shirt tight, but not overly so, and in a shade of blue that he loved. Hard-wearing trainers covered his feet, although he had been tempted by the steel-toed boots he sometimes wore in kitchens. He'd called ahead, and the van could be taken into the parking lot later, but for now there was no need.

"Hey, come on out, let's go!" he called, waving again.

( We're off to see Ikea.... )

In hind-sight, letting Mr. Thomas Avery make a scene probably hadn't been the best idea. Jazz hadn't considered that word would get back to Papi and that he'd come looking for the spoils. She'd meant what she said, of course, and when he asked where the goods were she'd lied. Told him she'd been caught before she'd been able to get away with anything.

The bruises would take a while to fade, but at least he'd remembered to leave them in places she could cover this time.

Even without that small boon, she decided as she stood in the cramped kitchen of her trailer pouring herself a bowl of cereal, it'd have been worth it. He'd offered to help her, had smiled at her....She cradled those memories close and smiled even when she stretched to put the cereal back in the cupboard and her back protested violently.
( Read more... )

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.

Emily turned the key in the lock and opened the door to their new 7th floor apartment for the very first time. Audrey was right next to her, and the girl ran inside the moment the door was open.

"Oh my god, it's so big!" Audrey's voice echoed in the empty flat.

Emily followed in and pulled the door shut after her. Her eyes widened as she now saw all the extra square meters. She wandered around the apartment slowly, stood in the kitchen for a longer time, visited both of the two bedrooms and their own bathrooms. It was fantastic. She hadn't lived in anything so big and wonderful since she moved out of her parents' house.

"Which room do you want?" she asked Audrey, who went to examine the bedrooms to make her choice.

Emily was already placing items in the living room - TV there, couch there, book shelf on that wall. As she thought about it, she took out her cell phone from her purse, and idly searched for Gregori's number. His name and number were on the screen, but Emily's thumb lingered on the green button without pressing it.

She couldn't believe he was suddenly back in her life, and she couldn't believe she had accepted a gift so big from him. But it was for Audrey, Emily reminded herself. Perhaps she was stubborn and proud, but she wasn't ungrateful, especially as the man was going to buy Audrey new furniture as well. She sighed, and finally pressed the green button to make the call to Gregori, and walked to examine the kitchen further.

He had the pass tucked away in his pocket as he walked through the carnival, hands in his pants pocket, close to his wallet. Even though he knew these people knew who he was, he didn't trust them to not try taking his wallet.

Chad wound his way through the people, watching the couples play silly games for stuffed animals and seeing children traumatize goldfish with ping pong balls. What he was after was past all of this. ( Read more... )

"And this is where we store the trolleys after the day is over, you stock it up before you leave right?" The woman showing Cleo round was bored, another new one, young, supposedly hard working, would probably leave in a week when she figured out it wasn't all fun and laughs. It was hard work working at the Manor, you had to know that, and live up to the standards expected.

Cleo nodded, "Of course, makes it easier to start the following day if it's already loaded up," she smiled, "it's better to use these products too, they are all good, not like hard lye soap and hot water, very hard on the hands, but does make the mission floor lovely and clean."

Her grey dress was replaced by the maid's uniform, her black shoes by a pair of white sneakers, and her hair braided carefully to hang down her back. "Are there any clients I need to be wary of? Or any that are, dangerous?"

The older maid laughed, "They're all dangerous honey, if they're men, just, do your job and get out of their way, stay out of it if you can."

"Of course," Cleo nodded again, "I'll do my best to stay out of their sight as much as possible."

She had a job, with accommodation! The man at the bus station was owed a ten dollar bill, and she knew her sister was with that circus. As soon as she finished here, she planned on going back down there to look for her.

He'd gotten home from work this morning, helped get the little monkey ready for school and gone to sleep after she'd left. Having his daughter to himself was one of the best things e'd done, but managing the club at night wasn't so great for his sleep schedule. At least she was in school and he could sleep during the day without paying a nanny full time.

Now he was down in the Mocha, trying to wake up. The television was broadcasting news and he read the captions as he waited for his coffee to cool some. "Fuck. That sucks." He muttered to himself after reading that Rue McClanahan had passed away. She'd been his favorite of the Golden Girls, probably because of his business with the strip clubs and being able to relate to her character.

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... )

Emily and Audrey had eaten Gregori's chocolates together on Wednesday evening while they had been talking. In fact, they had been talking - and arguing and crying and laughing and hugging a lot - for hours, way past both of their bed time. Audrey had taken the news well, having guessed half of it herself. She was utterly excited to have a father who was a celebrity too, and couldn't wait to meet him properly.

Emily's mind was just a little more at ease now that she had had time to think about it all. She still didn't want anything from Gregori, and she was very afraid of the potential scandal gossip in tabloids, but since Audrey was so happy and excited, she felt a little better as well. After a morning shift at work, Emily felt strange at home not needing to cook dinner. Instead, she was increasingly nervous as the time neared seven, just like Audrey was increasingly excited and hyper.

"Mom?" the girl asked when Emily came from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt and black shorts, looking quite sharp. "Did you do your hair? Awww, you want to impress him, don't you!"

( Oh no she doesn't!!! )

Jazz slipped out the backside of the tent, pausing a moment to button her shorts, before moving through the shadows along the overhang toward the front.

Already the hawker was back to work, Belinda now, older than Jazz and a redhead, as the tease at his side. Jazz leaned, pushing up onto her tip-toes as she tried to try to see over and around all the bodies gathering, fearing for a moment she'd lost him in the crowd - but no, there he was. Over by himself, looking so out of place.

He doesn't belong here.

Quietly she slipped toward him.

She got close enough to speak, hesitated, then said, "You could have smoked inside. No one would have cared."

It had been no trouble for him to get a new cell phone, but even Thomas Avery couldn't get new cards or a driver's licence overnight. He relied on cabs to get around until he got his licence back or a new one instead, but short distances he could walk especially when the weather was nice. He lit a cigarette as he walked by the Vine Square to the kiosk on the other side to buy smokes and the paper before heading home.

He had made a police report about the theft, but something about it didn't sit right with him. There was something about that woman that kept haunting in his mind, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Deep in thought he walked in a dark, sharp suit, this time with another designer watch in his wrist since the Armani one was taken.

His third, or was it fourth call of the morning, and already he was frustrated with bureaucracy and red tape, fed up with the idiots who needed telling twice, and ready to just shout at the next person who needed something repeated. However, this lady he needed to be nice to,"Da, is what I said."

He set the bag of food down on the table he'd been given and turned to the stunned woman behind him who'd just given him the food, "You are not listening, Nica, go pack the house up, it's for sale. I move here. Now."

( Read more... )

Bea had told her mother on one of her breaks that she had a date tonight, and her mom had let her borrow a silver sweater set that was still pretty but would still cover her arms. She paired it with another pair of jeans, these ones newer and with fewer holes, and put on a pair of black flip flops. She felt silly. Her hair was curling all over the place, but there wasn't much she should do.

When she left the bedroom to grab her purse, Ray was in the living room, the tang of cigar smoke thick in the air. She froze. He wasn't supposed to be here. They'd filed for a restraining order at least four times, but her mother always let him back in. Fuck.

"Where are you going dressed like that?" he asked, eyes dark.

"Out with a friend," she replied tightly as she walked over to pick up her purse. She listened for her mother, but the bedroom door was shut. She had to be in there. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I can see your tits," he said plainly. "And look at me when I talk to you. You know what happens when you walk around dressed like that."

She did know because he'd shown her. Off and on for years. Her hands started to shake, but she grabbed her keys and headed for the door. She was worried about her mother too, but the security here was stellar. He wouldn't have gotten in unless she allowed it. What had she been thinking?

Ray snagged her arm just as she reached the door and brought her back close to him. Her stomach rolled and she turned her face away. "You've forgotten your manners," he hissed, the cigar hovering dangerously close to the exposed skin of her collarbones. "I should remind you. But maybe later." He breathed against her neck, pressing into her side. "Later, when I can give you a proper demonstration." 

Bea jerked her arm away and walked out of the apartment, her arms crossed tightly under her chest. She wouldn't go home. It was as simple as that. She'd have her bit of fun and then she'd go stay with someone else. Professor Wentworth, maybe...

Musing to herself and still shaken up, she went to the lobby and waited for Eli.

Sterrin  had gone out and bought a new dress for tonight. She didn't have much, the extra money she had from dancing went to her brother, but she couldn't go out to dinner with a guy like Max looking pathetic. So, she put on the blue dress and a pair of heels and waited outside of her apartment building for him to pick her up.

This was certainly going to be interesting.

Isabella didn't own any dresses, but she figured she wouldn't be needing them for a simple coffee date anyway.

Well, not simple. Not with company like Micah.

So when she showed up at his book store she was wearing a pretty yellow corset-style top with flowers printed on it and a pair of low rise skinny jeans with strappy cork platform sandals. 

"Hey you," she said when she spotted him. "I've come for coffee."

He'd thought long and hard about it, for all of an hour last night in between a tour presentation and the dinner he'd been invited out to by the local TV station crew. Having drunk most of them under the table he'd taken a cab back to the Empress and mulled it over some more. Whoever was the father of that child, Emily must have been missing him something awful to have any kind of relationship with them, after all, look how long she'd held out against him? They'd had that one glorious night at graduation, and then, in the morning, gone their separate ways.

Today however he'd had to do another morning presentation, and an afternoon one, but then he wasn't scheduled for anything until tomorrow. Somewhere in between the two he borrowed a kitchen and some ingredients he just happened to have picked up in that wonderful department store he'd been in yesterday, and managed to whip up some of his favourite fillings for chocolates, and made around two dozen different kinds. Now, around about the same time as he'd been there yesterday, he was in the lobby, waiting, and hoping. If he didn't see Emily, he might at least see the girl, get another, better look at her. And what had Emily meant by steakhouse? Surely she wasn't working a grill as a short order cook? She was a first class chef for heaven's sakes. Having a child shouldn't affect that ability any.

( Surprise surprise! )