Heather Lisinski (irradiated_ants) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2016-09-14 05:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | !open, ~heather lisinski |
Who: Heather
Where: The strip joint (It's not what you think.)
What: Being a friend.
When: Whenever! Likely she would have lost track of time...
Rating: TBD
Open: Yes!
Status: On going.
Heather had come across the strip joint a few times in her exploration of the city, which she did often, because she found something new every time. It was about the seventh time finding it empty. Finding it dusty. Finding it unused, that Heather got the bright idea to turn it into something other than what it was. Sure it could still be used as a strip joint, if anyone really really wanted to use it as that. But the stage was perfect, the acoustics were phenomenal, and she couldn't resist. Rachel had mentioned a lounge. Like they'd had at Ridgeway. She'd already cleaned it within an inch of it's life. Every surface shone like new. The place was wired with the sound system that she was used to, but better. And best yet, there were no grubby guests to worry about. Heather was currently under the stage trying to get the bolting to the pole loose. "You had plenty money, 1922. You let other women make a fool out of you..." She trialed off into a hum as she grunted softly every now and then. The song stuck in her head since she'd used it to test the acoustics maybe an hour ago. The song that evolved her from Fuzz, to Legs. And had Anthony DiNozzo drooling. She was wearing the same coveralls that Kylo often complained about: dark blue, with RIDGEWAY RESORT Maintenance Crew stitched over her left breast, and way too big for her, with a white thin teeshirt beneath. The top tugged down to her waist, so she didn't roast. She wore a hat that matched the coveralls, to keep dust and spiders out of her hair. Heavy boots thudded against the small opening she'd squirmed into. Heather was working on a particularly stubborn bolt, yanking up hard, when it snapped. The poll slid down, and slammed the base into the ground. And onto the top right part of her coveralls. She damned her stupid clumsy luck, when she tried to squirm free. But she was effectively stuck. Unless she wanted to shimmy out of her coveralls, and walk home in her silky panties. And she didn't exactly want to do that. So. Instead. She cried out. "Heeeelllpp!" Trying not to sound too distressed, so she didn't freak any passersby out. She half hoped that her wonderful Knight of Ren would feel her. |