Morningstar Manor

( Emily )

*

( Avery )

*

( Susan )

*

( Laura )

Laura, half-dressed, turned slowly around in her bedroom and stared at her tall dresser. She had checked it already once, but she could swear there was someone, or something, in there.

She walked with bare feet across the bedroom, carefully reached for the handles of the doors, and took a deep breath. It was just her dresser. She had already checked that it only held her clothes and a ridiculous assortment of shoes and boots, but she still felt strangely scared. After a moment of bracing herself, she pulled open the doors, ready to jump back from whatever she would find.

But no - it was just clothes, shoes and boots.

*

Susan was walking down a corridor with her cleaning trolley. She felt like someone had been following her for a while, but she still hadn't seen anyone. Unconciously she started walking faster with the trolley, glancing over her shoulder at the corridor behind her.

*

Emily felt strange - just like when you suddenly wake up from a terrible nightmare and you're still too scared to move or be alone in the dark, let alone go back to sleep. She was trying to load the washing machine with her laundry but she had to keep on looking around, feeling like something horrible was going to jump at her. Maybe it was just her imagination, or maybe Manny was playing pranks, or maybe Vincenzo was trying to be funny. In either case, it really wasn't funny.

Niles was sitting in the Mocha, sprawled across one of the couches staring with an entirely confused expression at the cook book that was open in his lap. He'd been kicking around the idea of surprising Elspeth with something nice and boyfriendy. Someone had suggested a romantic dinner. He didn't know how to cook much other than Cajun food, which he prepared for them all the time. So... Something different? And how the fuck did anyone find a keish appetizing?

Smith was on his way from the garage back into the Manor, tugging impatiently at his tie. Who the hell decided formal dress on a day as hot as this was a good idea? Suits made him feel suffocated on the best day, and that feeling was only quantified when it was hot enough to melt balls outside. Disguested, he tugged his jacket off too for good measure and caught sight of the awesome wet rings under his arm pits from sweat in the reflective doors of the elevater. "Brilliant," he muttered to himself.

Declan was out in the garden, though he was safe in the shade as smoke billowed from his mouth while he talked on his cell phone. The daughter of someone his mother had known had recently gone missing and apparently they suspected the same person that had left the governor's daughter spread all over the City in little bits. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered a series of "uh huh" "yes, mother" and "I will," as he promised to keep a closer eye on Sterrin. As though that were possible.

Drew stood in line in the Mocha, still in his hospital scrubs as he rubbed warily at his forehead. He was glad these scrubs, the rather unbecoming shade of green that they were, were at least comfortable and lightweight. They made days like today, after he'd had an especially bad day, more tolerable. Yes, it only meant that he didn't have to fuck with a button and a zipper when he was ready to crawl in bed, but sometimes you just had to appreciate the little things in life.

Seamus was in the lobby, having just come from visiting Conn to discuss something about the Lamb. Bloody hell, this place was swanky. It was the sorta gig that made him feel like he had to take his shoes off at the fucking door or something equally ridiculous. Shaking his head, he paused at the door to the Mocha and contemplated running in and getting a muffin before he headed back to the Lamb. He'd have to eat quick, though. Otherwise Dermot would get his grubby little dick-skinners on it and he'd never see it again.

Callan was in the Gardens, checking his cell phone while Amelia pranced around and slowly went about doing her business. He'd never understand the mindset of dogs. He certainly didn't play hopscotch before going piss everytime he went into the bathroom, but maybe he was going about it wrong. He waved to Declan who waved back, but looked entirely flusterd on the phone. Wiping at the sweat on the back of his neck, he muttered to the dog to hurry up.

Jude was in the Mocha, sitting relaxed and casual and alone at one of the tables while looking at a test run of one of the new roller coasters they were designing for the park. It was based off of one of the last movies, something about a frog that could dance, but somehow they could never get the roller coaster's safety bars to stay down when it went through the first loop. The human sized dummy fell out every time. Smirking a bit to himself, he contemplated suggesting to put the ride on through as is. It'd be a nightmare in one aspect, but in another...

Smith was an utter failure at cooking, but he was a fucking champ at ordering out. So, when he sat Laura's carton of Chinese carry out in front of her he gave her a little smirk before plopping down next to her.

Olivia stood in line in the mocha wearing a black striped dress and a pair of black boots, staring down at the tabloid her boss had handed her today before sending her home on a temporary leave for the rest of the week. The picture on the cover was of her climbing into the back of her father's limo, and the caption read "Stick thin Liv killing herself with drugs! Friends fear for her life as her weight plummets to 98 lbs."

"Ninety-eight  pounds," she muttered, disgusted with the way the tabloids had of embellishing. She had lost  more weight than she needed to, but it hadn't been on purpose and it hadn't put her anywhere near ninety-eight pounds, and it hadn't been because of excessive drug usage, although right now she was considering it. Olivia's problems seemed to all come from good, old-fashioned depression.

Her brother, who seemed to physically be recovering from the accident just fine now, had developed a problem with pain pills, and was currently drying out in a forced rehab. Her father was under constant political scrutiny  and pressure, her parents had been all but kicked out of the usual crowd of friends that they'd had and it'd put quite a strain on their marriage, and on top of it all, Olivia's work had gone to shit. The callers had eventually only called in to ask her about her dad or her brother or make derogatory remarks, so she'd stopped taking calls. Then, left to her own devices, she hadn't had much to talk about once she removed all the things that sucked in her life from her list of topics. She just didn't have the heart to be clever.

And that prompted this. She'd been given a mandatory week of vacation and told that she had to get her shit together or she would be dismissed. Gee, a whole week to make her life awesome again. They really were too generous.

Laura was window shopping in the Vine Square, with big sun glasses over her eyes, her platinum hair on a loose big bun on her head, dressed in black tight skinny jeans that accentuated her long legs especially with the strappy high heels she was wearing, and the light grey tube top was another way of showing just how lean and slim she was. A bag over her shoulder she walked along the street, stopping by the windows of the small shops. She wanted to go in to several of them, but it was too hot for her to even think of being in a small confined space.

*

Emily had spread a blanket in the gardens of the Manor and laid out on it with strawberries and a novel in the afternoon sun. She had spent a morning at work, and really felt like not doing anything with her feet (except perhaps have them massaged or bathed), so being mostly immobile in the warm sun was a perfect plan, she thought.

*

Lucas sat outside the Mocha doors in the garden, but still in the shade of the building and the trees. He was rolling fags and did his best not to look too shifty about it - he had put the special plant he had received from Nick as a thanks to some good use. While his fingers worked the thin little slips of paper he was thinking about calling Emma - he wanted to do something with her, but he had a feeling he needed to figure out something better than smoking joints.

It was warm, and sunny, and the grass was already soft and green. After a half an hour jog, Laura was warm enough to stay in the gardens to do her yoga excercise wearing a tank top and black sweatpants. After another half an hour of holding herself in near impossible poses, she decided to stay there for a while, sitting by the angel statue in the sun. Her ivory pale skin burnt easily, but the spring sun was no threat yet, so she enjoyed the sun as much as she could now.

In the laundry room Emily was pulling out damp clothes of mostly red and pink and orange colors from the machine, and moving them to the dryer. She was humming absent-mindedly, until she pulled out something that was now pink, but had once been Vincenzo's white t-shirt. Oops.

*

Laura stopped by the front doors before she walked in. She had to glance back, but then she turned towards the doors and entered the Lobby with a smile on her face. No one had been following her. Funny how the simplest things in life could make you happy when you had faced the worst.

Everything was chopped, the water was almost boiling for the pasta... just the damn shrimps needed peeling. Emily was a startlingly nice woman and a superb cook, but goddammit why had Laura listened to her every professional advice? She could have bought ready peeled shrimps, but instead here she was fumbling with the damn things.

"I mean, you should have seen her. She was in the front row in her tiny little top being all wannabe teachers pet, but in truth even Fran was frustrated by her," Laura kept ranting about the new girl on tai chi class while she was cooking for Smith.

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.

Smith wasn't really a 'club' sort of guy, but he figured it was long past time he take Laura on a real date. For all her posturing and feistiness, she was still a woman, his woman, and occasionally needed something from him that wasn't dangerous or a roll in the sack in between their shifts at their jobs.
They'd went for dinner at the Indian restaurant and he'd thought a stint in Babylon would be something they'd enjoy. They could drink, have privacy when they wanted it, and there'd be masses of writhing men and women for Laura to laugh at when they didn't.
Now, dressed in a tight black button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of dark grey slacks, he leaned against the bar and watched Laura watch people.

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?"

Laura only had a vague idea of how long she had been in the room. It was always dark, the room had no windows and no furniture, ( and only one very sturdy door. )

( Laura goes missing )

Ever since being threatened with a knife and everything all because of Smith and his job, Laura had not known anymore what to do with him. She had decided, however, not to let herself be scared away from living her life despite the threat on her well-being or even life. Nevertheless, now that she was walking closer to the Vine Square from a drink bar she had been spending time with her colleagues after work, she could not help but hurry her steps to reach an area with more people around. She felt a little paranoid; keeping an eye on everyone around and thinking that anyone could be following and stalking her.

She knew that the Vine Square was just a few blocks away anymore, and she would be rid of this quieter dark side street. She saw the brighter lights and heard the noise of the busier traffic from the roundabout ahead, and was already starting to feel more at ease. Laura registered in her mind the heartbeats of three men she sensed behind the next corner, but because she concentrated on the Vine Square looming ahead, she ignored the group. Only a few steps ahead she already regretted letting her guard down, because when she had barely passed the corner, two of the men suddenly emerged. Before she knew it, they had grabbed her arms, and put hands over her mouth to muffle the scream she let out when they quickly dragged her to the side street.

Laura stepped out of the elevator to the 7th floor with her black jacket open, carrying her bag in her hand, and looking grim and exhausted. She stopped behind Smith's door and stared at it without knocking for a while. What should she do? It was clear now that she was in serious danger just for dating him - should she really break it off with him? Would this ever stop?

In any case, she did have a message to deliver. And even though she knew she was crazy for being with a man like Smith, she really needed to be in his arms right now, even though he was the reason she had been in a life threatening situation in the first place. Finally she knocked, and hoped he was home.

Laura pushed open the heavy door to the chilly parking lot and headed towards the staff's spaces. Wearing a black winter jacket and grey jeans tucked into knee-lenght black leather boots she was a slim dark figure passing through the parking lot alone - or so she thought at first. She was digging through her bag to find her car keys to notice the bunch of strangers further away - but then again she would not have cared even if she had seen them.

It was too cold to do yoga outside, so having missed the Tai Chi thanks to a prolonged, difficult surgery, Laura came down to the gym in the evening. Wearing black track pants and a jacket, she toed off her shoes by the stretching area, and then took off the jacket to reveal a white midriff-baring top. Her platinum blond hair was on a high pony tail, and all her movements already before the actual excercise were as refined and controled as ever. She began with calming breathing excercises in the lotus position - only now thinking that she should have taken a pair of earplugs with her to shut out the loud noises of the other gym users.

The slim dark figure of Laura in black skinny jeans, boots and a tight-fitting sweater appearead at the door of the Mocha, where she stared at the ghastly yellow poster attached to the glass door.

"Like I'd have time..." she muttered after reading it through and continued through to the coffeeshop and joined the cue, only keys dangling from her long fingers as waited to get to order her latte.

(OOC: Easy start... :D)