kayeaton: (oh dear.)
Well, that was pretty swell, wasn't it?

[The voice is a cheery one. Kay's sitting out in the living room of the house, chatting into the book with a stack of papers on either side of her. Seemed like a good day to try editing somewhere other than her room.]

It was great seeing everyone at the opening of Cloud Nine on Friday. Weekends from here on out, think about stopping in and...what the--?

[Someone listening especially carefully would have heard a muffled bang, the sound of a door being forced open. She stares up at the three shining metal men walking toward her, inexorably toward her, her eyes wide with a dawning horror. Their build is familiar; their modus operandi, more so. These ones travel in packs, but no one said fiction was perfect. Her voice grows higher and quieter, closer to a breath than anything, a note of panic entering her words.]

Oh, my God, you aren't--you can't be--

[But they keep coming toward her, with solemn steps, and she's convinced entirely that she knows what they are. Droids, sure, but more importantly--far more importantly--a Fury. She hadn't known it was Furies that collected people to take them away.]

Oh, my God.

I wrote you.

[The journal feed cuts off then, and very soon, there's nothing left but a floor and davenport scattered liberally with sheets of white paper, covered in typeset words marked over with blue pencil.]

ooc note )
kayeaton: (Default)
All right, if you can all listen up for a couple minutes, I've got some things you might be interested in hearing about--and I'm gonna need your input on them.

Since it sounded like people'd be interested in the possibility of having a nightclub here, we're gonna try putting something together on the second floor of Seventh Heaven. Dining, dancing, live music, the works. Opening night'll be sometime at the beginning of August, if everything goes according to plan.

What that means, though, is that we're gonna need some entertainment, and that's where you come in. If you're a musician and you've been wanting an audience, then you could have a regular gig here--any style music. I'm partial to pop, of course, but I get the feeling not everyone here likes Perry Como. Or maybe if you do standup--that could be okay, too. I don't want it turning into a whole vaudeville circuit up there, but if you're some other kind of entertainer, let me know, and we'll see if we can't fit you in somewhere.

So if you're interested, let me know here. Tell me what it you do, whether you're going to need anything there to perform, like if you play the piano, and how often we could count on you to be the evening's entertainment.

And if I haven't lost you all completely yet, if anyone's got an idea for a name for the place, I'm all ears. I name characters--turns out I'm no good at naming nightclubs.

[And with that task done, she's going to go celebrate this project getting off the ground--along with finally getting all her finished manuscripts in something approaching order that afternoon--with a trip out to Good Spirits. Can't neglect one part of Luceti's nightlife ("nightlife") for the other, after all. She'll be there for an hour or two, in a yellow cocktail dress, because it's just not fun to go out if you don't get a little dressed up.]
kayeaton: (tell me more.)
You know what this place could use? A nightclub.

Don't get me wrong, I like Good Spirits a lot, but you can't exactly go there for dinner and dancing. The pizzeria seems like it has room for musicians, but pizza's not exactly ritzy. Sometimes you just want to go somewhere nice and hear a good band, you know? Putting a Tex Beneke record on just isn't the same.

It wouldn't even have to be dance music all the time, either. Just some piano music, like--oh, what's his name--Chopin plays would be nice. We probably don't have enough musicians here to make a full-sized band anyway.

I'm not asking for the Stork Club here--Lord knows I wouldn't get in if I was--but there oughta be something else to do here at night. For the most part, this place is great, but it's kind of a one-horse town when it comes to entertainment.
kayeaton: (huh.)
[Kay feels like she's getting over a hangover. Maybe it's all the pie. And the cake, and the meatloaf, and the three attempts at gelatin molds, none of which set correctly--because turning into Little Susie Homemaker still doesn't make her at all skilled in recipes she didn't start learning to make when she was eight and nine years old.

Alternatively, it could be the nips at the sherry she'd been taking all week. Even with a personality change, a life of constant housework is hard for her to swallow.

So today she's walking around town in pedal-pushers, cotton blouse, and sandals today instead pounds of crinoline underneath a skirt. (Being a perfect housewife means sweating a lot. Much as she enjoys dressing up, those were closer to evenings-out outfits than anything, and she put them on every. single. morning.)

She's out mostly to enjoy the fact that she doesn't feel any kind of nagging desire to clean, cook, or otherwise make life more pleasant for the hard-working fellows around her, but she's poking into shops when something catches her eye. Today is a particularly good day for that, it turns out, and characters can meet her wherever in town, before or after she's recovered her typewriter and a few pieces of her jewelry from home.]

I've got a sewing machine and three and a half pies left over from this week if anyone wants them. I don't think I want to look at a kitchen ever again. [She sounds a little tired and not nearly as perky as she has over the last week.] I was about ready to throw out my notes and turn the study into a sewing room--completely out of my mind, I tell you.

It wasn't too bad, though. I wouldn't mind seeing a few more of these experiments--it's kind of interesting to take stock afterward.

Anyway, my typewriter showed up in a shop today. Good thing I didn't see it earlier--in that state, I'd probably have left it there. [It's said dryly, but there's some humour there. Also, she's genuinely excited to type again, you guys; it's been pages upon pages of handwritten drafts.] Although I probably would've had the sense to take my jewelry box, at least.

[And then, fifteen minutes later, sounding just a little beleaguered:]

Never mind, pies and sewing machine are spoken for.
kayeaton: (another charming smile.)
Have any of you read J. R. R. Tolkien's work? I can't recommend it highly enough--I really--oh, it's just great, you ought to read it. I read a book a night, I just couldn't put them down.

I mean, The Hobbit was a good book, no denying that, I read it when it came out, but these Lord of the Rings stories of his are above and beyond in quality. There's a grandeur to them that I really wasn't expecting at all, because--well, The Hobbit is great, don't get me wrong, but it's great in an Alice in Wonderland kind of way. It's for children as much as adults, and it's a little jokier, I guess. Which is good, I've always loved Alice, but The Lord of the Rings has such a larger scale, and the storyline's just so rich--

The language just soars, and the characters are so--so well-realized. I don't want to ruin the ending for anyone, but when Eowyn's at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, she's--oh, I really don't want to give it away, because it's so satisfying when you get there, but it's genius. We ought to have more strong female characters like her out there, she's really just wonderful--I love when the women get to fight, too. And she gets to do so much--

[And she pauses, because she's starting to get a little carried away with the excitement of OMG EOWYN IS SO COOL, YOU GUYS, because of course Eowyn is Kay's favourite.]

In any case, they were excellent. I'm going to start them all over again tonight, they deserve a second pass. [And that way, she can read them aloud to Mildmay.]

((OOC: The Fellowship of the Ring is first published in the middle of 1954, so all of this is SO NEW AND EXCITING for Kay, all thanks to Ingrid making mention of the series back on Thursday. NB: I don't actually know much about LotR, so if I fuck up anywhere, it's decidedly an OOC mistake, not an IC one. DX))


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Kay Eaton

November 2013

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