Morningstar Manor

Ruth had washed the dishes after their meal and was just heading for her room to do some reading when the phone rang. She looked around for Sybil but she wasn't in sight so Ruth picked up the receiver and said, "Hello?"

Icene was tired, and grumpy, so instead of going up to either her or Adam's apartments, she instead went directly to the gym, where she set herself a punishing pace on the treadmill for twenty minutes before moving on to the punch-bag and doing her very best to kill the thing. It was never fun to have someone dismiss hard evidence as the "patently incompetent ramblings of an idiot", and in her case, more galling since the moron in question had scored about twenty places below her at College. There was a small part of her that was intensely pleased that his coffee had been cold all day, however soon after getting it he'd tried to drink it, but such small and childish pleasures were all she'd been able to get.

So now here she was, sweating and aching, hair sticking to her neck, still attacking the punchbag with an aggression she didn't often display, swearing at it and generally letting off steam. She knew in the end she'd be proved right, but that didn't help right now, not with a promotion board coming up in a few weeks. The temperature in the gym reduced, but she wasn't out of control, it was just cold air, so far. What she needed was a good distraction.

There were several people around Vine Square going about their business this fine Saturday morning. Nobody would have thought there had been a blizzard only a week ago!

	Andras was wheeling his bike over the Square, talking into his phone as he went. "No, she won't want any fucking promotional items, you fucking moron," he growled. "She's a fucking pro and wants to use stuff she fucking knows. Where the fuck did you get my fucking phone number anyway, you fucking dick, and on a fucking Saturday morning!" He glared at his phone as he disconnected the annoying call. He'd need some coffee now!
	Charlotte was leaving the Auberge just at that moment, having paid up, carrying three dainty shopping bags that screamed of luxury, and looking airily around her. Had the air just turned a shade bluer?
	Cindy was visiting her building site, where the plasterers were putting in an extra shift so everybody could get on with things on Monday. Of course, they were being paid for it, but she still thought it great that they'd give up their Saturday instead of keeping everybody back another day. So she was bringing them several large bags full of Chinese food from those little folding boxes, fresh from a restaurant three blocks down, as a surprise lunch.
	Maude was hesitating in front of the gallery windows. She had had a call from a friend in California, who knew a friend who had a question. Pity Andy wasn't working here any more. So, Maude was pretending to look at the things in the windows while trying to determine who was there.
	Chandika was rather exhausted and made a beeline for the Auberge as well. She'd done lots and lots of Easter shopping. With a Catholic flat-mate, there was an excuse to get a good breakfast for when Bethan came from church, nice dinner, and lots of seasonal candy. You were never too old for hot chocolate with tiny yellow peeps in! But you had to find all the stuff somewhere.
	Ricky was sitting on the base of the bronze angel, smoking a roll-up. It was not discernible as anything but an ordinary roll up, but you could never tell what might be in one of Ricky's roll-ups. He wasn't quite completely happy. Something had gone wrong lately, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
	Sibyl had been browsing the disreputable antiques shop that was still sprawling through several old garages, workshops and commercial storage space in an alley off Vine Square. She was proudly carrying three late 19th century dining chair with their upholstery in an unspeakably vile state. But re-upholstering a chair was one of Sibyl's most familiar tasks; she'd find some nice fabric, pamper the wood a little, and then make them all pretty again. The substance of the chairs was completely sound, so she proudly lugged the apparent ruins across the Square.
	Urquhart was lounging on what was, temporarily, his own doorstep, sipped a coffee he'd fetched from the Auberge, and watched people. By now, he knew where he was going with this contract. Some rumours about the Manors were rather weird, though. Some were quite silly. A few were laugh-out-loud preposterous. One or two were actually worrisome.

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

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?"

Leena had a stinking cold and the previous afternoon had called Charlie to warn him she wouldn't be in to work on Sunday, so he had cut his visit to the lakehouse short.

Pleasure shouldn't get in the way of business and he felt that the other artist/owners couldn't really be called on at short notice. They were proper artists after all.

So he opened the gallery and sat in the spinny chair at the desk browsing the net and finding something that made him snort, made him thoughtful and ultimately made him sigh.

He picked up a pen and began to scribble on the back of an invoice - a sweep of hair, a strong jaw, a smirk and a dimple. That combination always made him feel better.

Emma had been late for work that morning and had left forgetting the most important thing.

Vastly annoyed, Palug let himself out of the apartment - staring hard at the door eventually made it open out of nervousness - and headed down for where there might be people.

He was hungry and unloved and didn't care who knew it. So he sat in the middle of the Lobby in the most inconvenient spot he could find and said "MMMMMWWAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWRRRRRR" very loudly hoping someone would get irritated enough to feed him.