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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 4 2018, 09:21 PM (8 Views) | |
| Charisma Baker | Jan 4 2018, 09:21 PM Post #1 |
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Charisma had always had a strange family for the times. They were in a country that had sought freedom of religion and all of that, but when the time had come, they had all gone back to their Christian roots. That was what her father had always muttered over the dinner table when she had been young. Oh, they had made a show of going to church and being a proper family in public, but at home, it was always different. Her father had always asked what had God done for them? They had all left the land of kings and queens, they had been born free, so why were they expected to follow yet another being that was meant to control their lives, take away the honor of having done something. Because in this world, his father had been a successful doctor but people had always thanked God for his hands rather than her father himself. It had been her father who had gone to medical school, who had put the time and effort into it. It had been her father who had worked the long hours. It had made him a bitter person for everyone to thank something else and she couldn't exactly blame him. Her father had imparted on the family that a man was only as strong as his resolve, only as strong as his ability to work hard. If he failed, it was his own fault, wasn't it? So why did someone else get to keep the glory if he succeeded? In her father's opinion, they needed to work hard and become great and grit their teeth over what people said while knowing they had done it. It had been all them. Unfortunately for him, he had had only daughters. Maybe if he had had a son he would have been able to impart wisdom on them and they would have been able to work up to his standards. But no matter how much his daughters wanted to become great, no matter the fact they had gone to a prestigious girls university, the world still really only saw them as housewives and mothers. That would be their claim to fame. Charisma's younger sister had commented on that at the dinner table once and her father had been angry. He didn't take that kind of talk. She, he had claimed, had been poisoned by the country. She was ready to whine and complain and say things were out of her hands because of God and the people around her. How did she expect to become anything if she just let it go? Personally Charisma found she didn't overly care anyway about it. Did she want to be a housewife? Not really, that had never settled properly in her chest, that had never been her personality. At the same time, she had been awfully tempted to just point out to her father that, in essence, he was making himself to be like the gods and kings of old that they were bucking against. Granted he was saying that they needed to work for themselves, but he was telling them to do it in his way. Instead she had just kept quiet, she had just kept to herself and done her own work, and kept moving forward. It was all thanks to that that she had met Tobias. Tobias had fast been her closest friend, a man she felt she could trust and who she had been so sweet on. He hadn't seemed afraid of a woman with intelligence, had loved it even. Charisma had thought maybe being married wouldn't be so bad with him, being his housewife wouldn't have been the worse. Except their friendship must have been very deep because when they had stolen away to some bedroom and she had thought they might make love the first time, he had told her the truth. He was gay. He had looked so worried and unsure when she had just sat there. He had asked if that was a problem (he had almost sounded scared) and then been so relieved that Charisma had just dropped back on the bed while saying of course he was. They still got married and she found she was still blissfully happy. The way people talked, they didn't marry their best friends. Now, granted, they probably didn't have an understanding either. Together, she and Tobias were a happily married couple. They had been for twenty years practically. They loved each other very much; Tobias adored her enough to have her aid him in his work and he gave her the due for it and in turn, she adored him and made sure that their work was always perfect. Really, it would have been a perfectly ideal relationship if not for the lack of sex. In the beginning, Tobias had tried. He had tried very hard to be the husband he was suppose to be. In the end, they had agreed that it wasn't going to work, but they had come upon the perfect solution. Tobias was gay but he could never tell anyone outright; most men would keep silent on that as it was and if someone decided to accuse him anyway? Well, he had a wife didn't he? Charisma would easily tell everyone that her husband was the very opposite of gay...unless one of everyone was a handsome man who happened to be looking at Tobias in interest. It was the perfect cover story. No one ever seemed to think twice about men coming over to a married couple's house. They never thought that it was a suitor for Tobias or for Charisma. It was just the perfect, it made them happy, and they were married to their best friends. Charisma felt she had had this whole thing figured out. And another added benefit to being married to Tobias? They had dates at a speakeasy. When Tobas had first introduced her to it, she had teased him, said leave it to him to find the one place that served alcohol and he had laughed. It had been nice going there, though. Ever since the ban on liquor had happened, she hadn't been devastated, not as much as Tobias, but the speakeasy wasn't just about being able to drink. This one, at least, was about the freedom to be who they were. Tobias could look at men openly, show interest in men fairly openly and if someone had a problem with it, they could leave. It was the same for Charisma. These sorts of dates were always a nice evening, her favorite by far and they always made her love Tobias a little bit more because...well, it has how they worked. Usually he had better luck than her in searching for men, usually she would see a man but they would sometimes back down from a confident woman or they were gay too or any number of things. And then on one of their dates, she had properly looked at the band playing and her heart had stopped, her stomach had dropped because one of the members had to be the most handsome man she had seen in a long time. She had spent a good chunk of her time watching him, staring at him, and it was when Tobias told her she should go for it that, she figured she would. After all, Tobias had pointed out his own man for the evening – a cute little thing that didn't overly look like he belonged there – so she should go have some fun herself. She made her way to the stage where the band was taking a break. Her man (her pray, as Tobias would tease her) had been just sitting off to the side, in perfect striking distance. "Has anyone ever told you you play wonderfully?" she questioned. |
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| Lawrence Manning | Jan 4 2018, 09:22 PM Post #2 |
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Things weren't really going as well as he had hoped. Then again, that could be said for most people in the country nowadays. The price of crops certainly weren't going the way that farmers hoped. The state of farms was that they were all sliding into debt and being sold or abandoned. The state of the workers wasn't much better with people being laid off from job after job simply because there was just no money to keep them on. Law had set out with big ideas and big dreams. He wasn't going to stay on the farm. He wasn't going to go work in a factory or a store. He was going to play in a band. He was going to become famous. When he became famous imagine the money he could send back home. Imagine the money that he could pass off to people who needed it. When he and the band made it big there would be no end to the money or the good times. Except there hadn't been much of either. Oh, he liked playing. He had fun performing. The money wasn't really forthcoming, though and neither was the fame. Prosper had just clapped him on the shoulder when he had sighed over it once and said fame didn't come overnight. They would get there but, in the meanwhile, shouldn't they just have their fun? Law knew he should be glad that they just had a gig, a steady one. He had been able to save some, to send a little bit home but it was a pittance. It wasn't what he had dreamed of doing. He knew that with help from Parker and Foster and Roy that the farm was probably staying afloat and that every little bit helped... but he couldn't help but feel as if the tiny bit he could provide was just something for them to sigh over rather than anything that was welcome. He had run off, after all, and left them to deal with everything. Some days he really missed home and thought he should just go back but something always told him to wait. It wasn't so bad, he supposed. He had thought they would be famous but, instead, they were just... settled. They had wound up here instead of inside any door that would get their music on the radio. It was illegal where they worked, highly illegal, and he had struggled with that as well. It was a classy place, though, and one where there were plenty of people who actually paid attention to the band as much as they ignored it. People came here to drink, to laugh, to sing and dance and generally enjoy themselves and the pay was all right. Maybe not as much as he would have hoped in an ideal world but it was all right. Enough that he had saved bits and pieces so that, one day, he would be able to buy his own home. So that, one day, he could send a huge chunk of earnings back to the farm and tell them to at least pay something off. There were tips, too, surprisingly. Not so much, especially when split between himself and the rest of the band but... enough. Enough to make it even more worthwhile. He didn't get to participate in the actual fun of the speakeasy, though - not outside of his enjoying playing. It was a bit disappointing but, then again, he reminded himself he wasn't really much of a drinker in the first place. It was just the allure of what was denied to you normally, he supposed. Tonight had been a pretty long set, a bit tiring, but he had enjoyed it in the way that he always did. He had even gotten a chance in some of their pieces to watch the crowd enjoying themselves. Some of them dancing, some of them just enjoying the ambient atmosphere, some of them actually watching and listening to the music rather than doing anything else. He had caught sight of a couple people that had piqued his interest and then he had seen a most beautiful woman. Dark red hair and a body to die for. He couldn't see her eyes from where he was, but he had no doubt that they would be gorgeous, just like the rest of her. The clothing that she had worn was fancy, upscale, and meant she was probably way out of his league. The fact that she had been strolling around with a man on her arm - someone around her age, it looked like, who also looked as if he was fancy and well off - meant that she was probably even further out of his league and reach. So he had just done his best to not follow her around with his eyes as he played. There was no sense in following after something you couldn't obtain. Prosper, of course, had noticed even when he had been busy singing and when they had taken their break he had given him a few overly enthusiastic nudges that Law had just rolled his eyes at. He had taken a seat at a table near the stage, set up for the band members to take a chance to get some drinks and food, to just relax while other entertainment took over or the crowd was just allowed to idly talk for a bit with no interruptions. He took a long drink of the water that he was pretty sure was his and then set the glass on the table with a long sigh, shaking his head a little to get the mildly sweat dampened curls out of his face. That was when a voice spoke to him. He raised his head, intending on just giving a quick grin and a thanks. It was fairly often that people came up and complimented them, honestly. He had been surprised by it but Prosper had just given him that grin and said ladies loved musicians... and some blokes, too. Law had just flushed at the implications and left it at that and he had still been surprised each time. What he hadn't been prepared for was the gorgeous woman from earlier to be the one approaching him, for her voice to be as beautiful as the rest of her. He could only open his mouth, gaping a little up at her. Finally, he swallowed and managed to clear his throat. "Ah, well, thank you," he said after a moment, wishing that his accent wasn't so thick or that he had something clever to say. "Reckon I've heard it a time or two but I think it's different every time I hear it. Especially comin' from someone as beautiful as yourself." |
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| Charisma Baker | Jan 4 2018, 09:22 PM Post #3 |
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Charisma resisted the urge to turn and look for Tobias. It was one part she wanted to meet eyes, to have that communication they had developed before they were married, something that made people think they had just such a deep love for each other (which they did) and one part looking to see if he had managed to start chatting up his chosen man. She didn't turn to look for him because she had the man's attention on her and it would have been very rude to look away. People had called Charisma rude before, making it sound just this side of killing puppies, but no one seemed to believe it was all calculated. She couldn't imagine being rude on accident, which everyone seemed to think of her. Did they expect her to be from backwater town where she didn't know anything? She had always felt delight in tearing those people down. Plus, realistically speaking, watching him was a lot more fun. Tobias might be offended to hear that, but he would relent when Charisma pointed out that he would be having a lot more fun with his gentleman too. She smiled as the younger man gaped, as he swallowed and tried to clear his throat. Even with all that, the accent was thick in his words. So, not from around there then. A little country boy in a big city, would wonders never cease? Oh she had seen plenty of people from the country coming into the city – people always seemed to think the big city had so much more in opportunities – but she could admit most of them didn't thrive. The one before her seemed like he was doing all right for himself. She laughed softly as he said he had heard it a time or two. "Well, it's true. You deserve to hear it every time it's spoken. I don't think I've heard quite the same sound here before you." Depending on the person, that could have been a vague insult and she had used it on people before. But for him, she decided it was an at face value compliment. She gave another light laugh as he turned around to compliment her. "How sweet," she found herself saying. "Do you say that to all the women who come to talk to you?" Because she didn't doubt that women came up to him. Women and girls fell in love with movie stars and musicians, it was just fate. Movie stars were suppose to be romantic and charming, their characters meant to reach out to the audience and pretend that life was going to be okay for awhile. Musicians sang such sweet songs of love and a woman could get lost in an instrumental peace if she wanted to. Movie stars and musicians gave illusions of escape more importantly; they let a woman think that maybe they'd whisk her away to some far off land that wasn't struggling, where they would be romanced and happy for the rest of their days. And him? Well, he definitely had the looks going for him with the soft not quite baby features and his curly hair and that smile was awfully to die for. Even as she thought it, she felt her mood sour just a tiny bit. She knew that women would have come up to him, that was just what was done (look at that singer that was so busy charming multiple people that had come to talk to him), but it...annoyed her. She hadn't staked a claim on the man yet, but she felt people should have known. Women should have realized and stayed away. She wasn't a woman who liked to share, not easily and not very often, even when she knew that logically there was no way for people to have known. "I bet a man like you never fails to have a line waiting to tell a woman to keep her happy." There was a part of her that doubted it. He was a country boy, she reminded herself. All of them seemed to be very...down home and honest and innocent. But there had to be a few, a few who knew how to play the cards and make a girl's head turn. "My name is Charisma." She held out her hand to him in a way that could go however he wanted to handle it so long as he didn't ignore it. She had learned fast how to do that move, all starting because she couldn't stand the humiliation that had come with meeting men who didn't know whether they were suppose to shake her hand, kiss it, give it the barest of squeezes to the finger tips because she had stepped forward with one of those. The move had allowed for the man to decide what he wanted to do, which had seemed to make them so pleased. Without being asked, she took a seat across from him. Tobias had always told her she was far too bold for their years and she had countered with the fact that that was why she lived in the big city where people expected such scandals to take place. "So, is this the only work you do?" She wouldn't be surprised either way. People who came here always looked the other way, they always kept their heads down and never acknowledged what anyone did for a living. It was the idea of that if someone could out them, it would get turned around very fast. But many people there had jobs other than the ones that happened to be in that bar. At the same time, with how the economy was going, she could believe that this was all he had. She wondered, idly, if someone who's job it was to recognize musical talent had come through here and heard them. They sounded good enough to her to be more mainstream, but her ear for music wasn't as refined as an agent who catered specifically to that sort of thing. To her, he might sound wonderful; to a professional, he might be nothing more than okay. Plus if he had a job outside of here, would he really still be playing here? It was nice to visit, but work? Who knew? "Can I buy you a drink? Seems like you're running a bit low." She had watched him drinking for a bit. Long enough to realize that he was only having water because there wasn't the same wince that came from the harder stuff and she hadn't seen very many clear liquors in her time that didn't cause a very obvious scent. It was almost quaint that he was here without a drink. Who even did that? You came to a speakeasy to drink, didn't you? Though in this one, it also seemed to find that certain love that you might not be able to find outside the doors. Either way, it just seemed odd to her. "Tell me, where are you from, Law? You certainly don't sound like anyone from around here. What brought you to seek the big city?" There was a part of her that just didn't care; it was the part of her that wondered what his curls would feel like tangled around her fingers and what his lips would feel like against her. But let it never be said that Charisma wasn't at least polite about her appetites. |
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| Lawrence Manning | Jan 4 2018, 09:22 PM Post #4 |
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It was quite hard to focus on... anything. He should be getting more to drink. He should be taking a seat, relaxing for a few minutes. He should be mentally preparing for the next set of music. Instead, all he could do was just stare at the woman. He knew he was probably getting beyond rude at this point but he couldn't help it. It was like he couldn't look away. He had seen plenty of beautiful women in his life. He had seen pretty girls, plain ones, beautiful women, of all shapes and sizes. It was like all of them completely paled in comparison to her, though. He had never seen anyone as beautiful as her. His mind pointed out that she had some age on him, though it was hard to tell how much. He didn't care though. She was beautiful and that was what mattered. When she laughed, it all but sent shivers down his spine with how melodic it seemed to be. This woman was going to be the death of him, he was sure... and it might just be a death he was willing to take. He ducked his head a little at her words, pleasantly pleased and embarrassed all at the same time. He scuffed his foot slightly against the floor, wrinkling his nose as it left a bit of a mark that he tried to scuff back out. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asked with a small laugh. "I hope it's good." He hoped he wasn't being subtly insulted. He didn't think he was but, honestly, sometimes he wasn't so sure. It wasn't as bad as his cousin, who seemed to take everything at face value most days, but there had been times that Law had to sit back and think on if he was being made fun of or not. The woman gave another laugh and it sent another chill down his spine, left a feeling in his gut that he didn't think another person - man or woman - had ever left there before. "No, I... I usually just tell 'em thank you." He shuffled his feet a little, feeling more than a little embarrassed at his answer. Should he be so open and honest? His parents had always taught all of them to be open and honest with people, to say what they meant and felt but to also be kind about it. It was possible to tell the truth without being vicious, after all. Law wondered if that was going to win him any points here. Should he have said that he'd seen many beautiful women but none so beautiful as her? It was true, but it probably would sound like some sort of terrible line. She might not even be interested in him. She might just honestly be interested in the music that they were playing although, honestly, if you wanted to talk about the music then Prosper was the one to go and speak with; he headed the band, after all. He felt a flush creep up on his cheeks as she spoke again and said that she bet a man like him always had a line waiting to tell a woman to make her happy. "Naw. Naw, if I could do that I could make a lot of people happy but... I'm not so good with words." People liked to equate it with his being a dumb country hick and what did he know, maybe that was true. Mostly he just got flustered, particularly when he thought the conversation was about one thing and then it proved to be about something else entirely, when he realized that someone had been talking around him or about him. It didn't always happen, but it left an impression when it did. "Charisma," he echoed, a slight tone of awe in his voice. "That's a beautiful name," he told her, honestly. He'd never heard such a fancy name before. It fit her, he thought. He reached out to take her hand and, for a moment, he forgot to do anything with it. He just marveled at the way that her hand felt in his, the smoothness of her skin, the beauty of the woman and the alluring taste of her name on the tip of his tongue. Then he very briefly, almost a bit clumsily as if he had just remembered to do it, brought her hand up and pressed the barest of kisses against the back of it. He almost dropped her hand but something kept him holding onto it for the moment. "My name is Lawrence. But everybody calls me Law. I kinda prefer that." His whole family almost had a tendency to shorten their names and, honestly, Law had always felt as if he were in trouble whenever someone called out 'Lawrence' instead of 'Law'. He blinked a little and then gave a slight smile. "That's right," Law said in response to her question. He didn't know what other work he would do. He wasn't all that educated thanks to money, or lack thereof. He spent his nights playing into the wee hours of the morning which left little time for other work. The pay wasn't the best but it kept him afloat with the other guys. He had just hoped for bigger things so he could have sent more money back home than the little bit he scraped up here and there. He kept hoping that, maybe, one day, some kind of talent scout might chance by and see them, some deal might be made... but nothing had happened yet and that dream died a little with each day. "Oh, well," he hesitated for a moment. They were supposed to be sober. You had to be sober to play instruments and sing, after all. Still, though... He glanced over at the other tables where his bandmates were sitting and a few of them were on a second or third glass. He supposed one drink wouldn't be too bad. "I'm a simple man," he told her with a smile. "Just a beer would do me good though I gotta stay sober. Awful hard to play an instrument if I can't read the music." He gave a laugh, a laugh that invited her to laugh with him at the thought of it all. Then he fell silent, just smiling at her a little, watching her with his hazel eyes. "Oh, no place that's gonna be in the history books. Small town down in Kentucky with not much there." He drew in a breath and gave a small sigh. "Came up here to try and make money. You know how it is," he fiddled a little with the napkin on the table. "Family farm not doin' so good so one of the kids heads out to try and make it big and pay for the farm. The American story." He gave a wry smile. "Of course, that tale's a dime a dozen. So, what about you? What brings you here tonight?" Probably the drinking, music and dancing; that was what brought most people to speakeasies, after all. |
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8:53 AM Jul 11