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| Scene Title | Castles In The Snow |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | PAUSE Magazine is shooting in Battery Park and while ladies frolic in bikini's in near freezing weather, others gather to gawk, work, or see if they can't get something. |
| Date | January 30, 2010 |
Battery Park, Battery Park City
It had started just literally right after curfew. Maybe if Martial Law and curfew weren't in effect, this would have started overnight and they could have started shooting much earlier. But you make do with what you can or you go somewhere else.
It had started with people piling into this area, security put into place to deal with any 'issues' that might arise. Permits had already been secured and things rehearsed so that with hope, there would be very little hiccups and this could be done in the minimal amount of time. Trailers were brought in, people coming and going from them, getting this organized, ready, set.
Next wave had brought trucks loaded to bear with snow. Not that there wasn't already snow on the ground, but there was a need for more. White pristine virgin snow that was soon being shoveled from where it had been dumped and brought to a cleared off area. A few other vehicles brought in huge blocks of snow and with that, a small horde of men bearing chain saws, woodworking tools, buckets of hot water and numerous other items. While it wasn't obvious, over the next four hours the team worked and chipped away, packed and eventually - following the designs commissioned - The set for the pause shoot was done. When they stepped back, two pristine, magazine glossy page worthy forts were assembled, polished and ready to go.
PAUSE Magazine sandwich boards were put up everywhere denoting that this is a shoot, and that all interlopers will be dealt with by security. Not that they're stopping people from milling about in the back. Just not onto the actual business end of the set. Children whose parents had brought them to the park to play gathered from afar with the hopes that soon the whole thing will be over with and they can rush in and claim the multi leveled, forts with their colored towers - Water and food dye incorporated during the construction - and start the mother of all snowball fights.
But for now, the only people who would be throwing snow balls would be the skinny models in horrendously expensive bikini bathing suits, lumberjack hats, shearling mittens and boots behind the left fort and topless swimtrunked men with glistening pec's and oblique's, knitted hats, gloves and boots too, pitching back to the females. People stand out of sight, behind the photographer and his assistants, ready to oil up the models or get thermal jackets on them and squirrel them away to the trailers to keep warm.
Nalani Hollingwood, the queen bee of the whole thing is warm, standing near the back with her chinchilla jacket, black hair streaming in the sunlight and sipping on something from a cardboard cup. Assistant buzzing off to deal with this and that, the Briton casts a glance around to see who's ventured near, what kind of attention this whole thing is gaining.
Ziadie had been down to Battery Park City to deal with some business, but such are the consequences of not having a phone, ending up not catching any of the several people he was looking for, and so he'd come to walk in the park instead. Too much time to wait before the cab was supposed to come back, and such similar things. Except now there's all of this, and so Nocturne Ziadie is one of those milling on the edges of the area used for shooting, albeit an edge that is not so populous and crowded. He leans on his cane, simply watching the spectacle.
She could have simply called.
She could have set up an appointment and met with Nalani Hollingwood within the warm, cozy confines of her office building. Or, the entire interaction could take place over casual drinks in one of New York's more upscale entertainment venues, rendered nearly empty by the crushing choke-hold of martial law and the curfew. The possibilities for luxury are nearly endless.
And yet, the sight that Nisha Kotecha is met with when she exits a meeting with one of Andhera's potential investors is one she simply can't pass up.
When there's a shoot for PAUSE, it's likely that Nalani isn't far off, supervising the spectacle to ensure the photos gleaned are acceptable for publication. Dressed in a sober charcoal wool coat, tall black leather boots, and with an ivory scarf to protect her throat against the chill, Nisha makes her way along the paved walkways of the park toward the serial's entourage.
It is always an adventure when Delilah takes different routes to and from places. Just because there is a faster way doesn't always mean it is a better way. The same could be said for a lot of things, but today it only counts for her route coming home after having met her aunt for an early lunch. She has Walter with her, as she always does, carting him around in the baby carrier between her coat and her. So much more practical than a stroller for getting around, after all. The stroller gets its money's worth when she takes longer trips.
The young mother is standing amidst the rest of those that choose to show up and mill around; her arms are wrapped around the baby boy to hold him up a little so that he can see the various lights and the trailers strewn about. Even if he can't really understand what anything is, she likes to let him look. Delilah is standing near one side, her hair speckled with tiny white flakes and her mouth murmuring things to Walter. They may not stay too long, depends how much Dee wants to check out the underwear models in the rightmost fort. Give her some credit, yeh?
There's a tall man, trim, well fit, wearing a pair of fitted black leather pants, boots that lace up the shins with purple laces and a fitted black turtleneck with no sleeves under his black leather jacket, purple scarf around his neck and purple fedora on his head. His emo-fringe is dyed purple today and he has his apron/toolbelt around his waist with all his tools in it as he bustles around. This is Raquelle who is working with certain models, making sure there isn't any hair showing the /wrong/ way and trimming ends and combing out hair and so on and so forth, wearing a pair of dark shades as he works with fingerless gloves.
ORDER: It is now your pose.
Damn, it's cold out. Most really can't feel much in the way of envy for the models that are running around in bikinis and boots in this weather. Way too cold for bikinis out here in the middle of winter.
Normally, Soleil Remi Davignon wouldn't really care one way or another about a fashion shoot. While she enjoys fashion to a great extent, this world was always more of her late mother's forte. But, these days, she does make an effort to appear at the shoots that feature her mother's fashion. A few of those bikinis and swimtrunks are Davignon pieces.
The woman is dressed in warm clothing, pieces from several different designer brands, quietly watching the models frolick around in their skimpy gear. Her ability is tightly closed off, for the time being. No need to get a headache again.
Nisha is touched upon visually, the chinchilla ensconced editor brightening up from within the silvery grey depths of the fur. "Nisha!" There will be air kisses incoming when the Lawyer is spotted making her way over. Nalani won't be moving over to her. "Nisha" Her British inflection slightly muddled. "You're still here in this forsaken city. Tromping through the snow. What brings you out this way? Please tell me you don't have some little annoying client who's chafing at the bit to sue me over some trivial imagined insult" Another little assistant comes scurrying up and Nalani sends her off to one of the trailers to get something hot for the Lawyer to drink. "Must be freezing"
Model switch out time, the ones on the set scurry off, engulfed by interns who tarry them off to the other trailers as a fresh batch of warmed up models come back out. The colors for this summer seem to be jeweled tones, lots of sequins, bohemian designs and solids with accent embellishments. They descend past Remi, waving to the girl before heading to Raquelle and his on site assistants to get final touches before they'll go out to the forts. Last round of shooting, or so that's what someone bellows. This just makes the children to the side seem to vibrate more in anticipation.
One of the models though, trips over a cord, the action jerking on a light that wobbles and totters till timber, it's coming down. Right between Ziadie and Delilah where she stands with little walter.
Well that is interesting. Ziadie takes a hasty step back from the falling light, and in the process of doing so, his feet fall out from under him and he falls in the grass and snow. "Damn." He's sitting up, sort of, but one leg is out to the side, and there's muttered continued cursing. And then there's a glance to Delilah and Walter, and to the rest of the children gathered in the park, and the cursing quickly and abruptly stops.
Being around Nalani during a shoot brings with it comforts that Nisha hasn't known in years. Specifically, being waited on. The cup of hot coffee is in her hands not long after air kisses have been exchanged. "Nalani," she says in a teasing tone after the barrage of questions. "When you descend on some poor unsuspecting bit of nature for a shoot, you throw up such a flag that I simply have to stop and see you if I happen by. I was just at Steamer's Landing for a lunch meeting."
The lawyer is only momentarily interrupted by the crash of the light and the ensuing hubbub to right it again. "Nobody to sue you, but I do have a client you might find interesting. Mind if I steal your ear for a bit, or would you rather I schedule something through your office?"
If Delilah were the type of person that if in a Godzilla movie, would stop to stare at the foot coming down- she would not have lasted this long. She doesn't stop to watch the light, and someone even grabs her by the sleeve to pull her away. Not that she needed it, but it is nice knowing that people can actually give a crap. Walter's face wrinkles up when the light crashes and smacks onto the ground, and Delilah shifts to move further away from the mess while trying to console him. The perils of tiny attendees is that they will cry, and right now that is what he wants to do.
She hopes they aren't shooting any video, cause he's a bit loud in doing so.
"Alright babies, make mama proud now…not the step-bitch that keeps ya'll in the tower, your true mama." Raquelle drawls softly to the models as they come for final touches, a comb flashes here, an eyeliner pencil comes out there…he has assistants yes, but he's always checking and double checking for himself. "Think warm thoughts baby, I know your girlfriend will be there to heat them nubbies up after you finish looking pretty for the camera." He air kisses some and winks at others over his shades. Teasing and playful but ever so professional.
Letting out a Japanese swear word when the light goes down and rushing/running that-a-way towards the model who trips. "Oh DA-oh thank god, the hair didn't fall…honey, are you trying to add murder to your list of crimes under 'didn't wax for a week' and 'looks like she's smuggling Cousin It from the Adam's family in her g-string'? Goodness me…" He looks up to see Delilah and the Baby and the Old Man and such, they don't look like they are dying and he's used to babies so he's back to scolding.
The redheaded ballerina smiles to the models who wave to her, raising her hand to wav back. She knows a few of them from shoots she's done in the past, and she is the descendant of Victoria Davignon. She's famous by relation, really. As one of the models trips, she turns to watch with a somewhat surprised expression on her face, brows lifting.
Then, Remi turns to watch Delilah and the unhappy baby. Poor little guy!
"FIRED"
Nalani's hand up to ask permission - not really - of Nisha to interrupt their conversation as she turns to the commotion and the Model. "Get her off the set, I don't want incompetence here. Get the bathing suit off her get… Tayla into it" Gesturing towards the trailer before she pauses shaking her head. "Remi, get Remi into it. Stick her on the upper level of the girls fort, maybe they won't notice how impossibly tiny she is and would someone shut up that ba-" Oh wait, that baby almost got hit by her light. The old man too. How convenient that she's got a lawyer with her. "Nisha, help me avoid a lawsuit because of some anorexic imbiciles stupidity" Delilah and Ziadie are faced with the impending arrival of Nalani it seems. "we can talk once I make sure i'm not going to get sued"
A few guys help Ziadie up, and he tentatively tests his weight on his leg, followed by a suppressed yell. But he can still stand on one leg, and so instead of anything else or focusing on himself, he looks over to Delilah. "You alright?" She seems to have fared better than he did, but he concentrates on sitting down in the chair that someone has brought to him, with a brief flash of recognition at Remi's name as well.
There's only the briefest moment of tight-lipped discomfort before Nisha is following in Nalani's wake, making a mental note to send a bill to the PAUSE office once this is over. You can never get anything for free, least of all in a city like this one. She peers past her to the woman with the baby and the old man on the ground, squinting as she scrutinizes them both. She isn't an injury lawyer, but some things are basic. "He fell on public property - you had a closed set," she says easily, pulling out a smart phone and sweeping one touchscreen-friendly gloved finger across the screen this way and that. "Not liable for lookie-loos."
Walter wails for a few moments longer still, and Delilah has to unzip her coat to wriggle him free and put him up on her chest, bundled clothes and all. She murmurs into his hat, hands holding him firmly up and eyes only ticking upwards when she hears a bit of a ruckus coming from the set. Oops. Someone got in trouble, looks like. She smiles down at the older gentleman when someone brings him a chair, and he has the mind to ask how she is. Go figure, old people are like that.
"We're fine." But Walter is still fussing his little hat off, metaphorically speaking. "Strolls shouldn't be so dangerous, huh?"
"Fi-red…oh screw Fred Flinstone and hire Barney for a threesome…what the hell…bitch /tripped/." Raquelle /sighs/ and helps the Model up and starts leading her off, tugging a tissue from a pocket and pressing a lollypop into her hand as well as he ushers off in the right direction. "Come see me at the salon baby, you can help me with my book of spring fashions…it'll be okay, don't cry you'll look like Tammy Faye." He shoos her off and glances in the direction of Nalani with his hands on his hips before moving back to where his stations are and such. "Remi? Oh lovely, somebody new! Here, Boo Boo - Yogi? I'm not sure what your name is." He address an attendant. "Take this white chocolate biscotti over to the lady with the little screaming cupcake baby, okay? And make sure old man river hasn't sprung anything would you? Thanks baby, you're a doll." He hands over the napkin wrapped sweetie and turns back to his work, sighing softly and twirling a straight edge razor. "Damn my lack of ovaries."
Oh. Oh, she gets to be part of this shoot. Remi blinks owlishly at Nalani, her brows raising high. Oh— okay. Remi can't help but frown. She's going to be getting into a bikini in this weather? For a moment, she almost ponders looking around to see if there's anyone else named Remi in the general vicinity, but she avoids doing as much.
She'd better get paid well to do this crap.
With a sigh, Remi trudges her way back toward the trailers, shaking her head. It is in French that Nalani gets her response. "Vous devriez me payer baiser vraiment bon, Nalani. Je totalement ne me suis pas inscrit pour cette merde. Rien de Dieu, il baise trop le froid pour cette merde. Vous me devez!" Despite the smooth flow of her native tongue, the tone implies that she is doing quite a bit of cursing.
The pale woman disappears into the trailer to get ready, frowning.
Nalani doesn't know french - I know, so sue her - So whatever Remi spouts off, Nalani doesn't understand nor frankly, does she care. Because the moment Nisha is reminding her that she's exempt from anything, because it's a closed set, she's turned her back on the incident - She'll probably likely still pay that bill - and just evil eye's Raquelle.
Then back to Nisha. "You had a client for me?"
A swarm of interns are sent off towards Delilah and Ziadie, some sent by Raquelle, others because they know it's expected of them. The seat for Ziadie, hot drink for the old man and even one squirrel faced individual with a bluetooth attached to his ear who's demanding to know if he needs an ambulance, if either of them need one.
In the trailer, the bawler who's been fired is ushered out of her bikini and it's quickly tossed to Remi, the woman summarily stripped of clothing and shunted into the raspberry colored confection from her mother's label, a bathrobe tied around her and shunted back out the door with the gloves, boots and hats even a scarf and sent to Raquelle in under two minutes - almost.
"The client isn't for you," Nisha correctly gently as she pockets her phone. "The proposition is. I'm helping her set up an after-curfew club. Shuffle everyone in before we turn into pumpkins, lock the doors, and party until the proverbial cows come home. Of course, there will be facilities available for those who need to recharge, but it's all entirely legal. No one will be 'out' after curfew, and New York's infamous night-life lives on within the sanctuary of four walls and closed doors."
She smiles softly, leaning in just a bit closer. "We're only interested in including a small number of investors. It keeps things simple."
"Life is exciting," Ziadie says with half a smile. There's a small dismissal of the intern demanding about the ambulance, but if the intern has half a mind, he might just well call one anyway. The old man tried to get up once, and sits back down rather frequently. Beckoning one of the interns closer. He apparently heard Nisha's comment about liability. "She technically has some liability for her equipment falling outside of her closed set," Ziadie says. Not that he's talking to anyone in particular.
Oh- look- someone has sent her a biscotti. Delilah looks puzzled, at best, when one of the interns palms it off on her and weasels off again after a few words. Uh. Alright. One arm holding onto Walter, Dee glances at the treat in her hand before offering it to Ziadie. "You uh- you want a biscotti?" She doesn't have anything to do with it- not hungry, the baby doesn't have teeth. "I'm not wanting to sue anyone, but I think someone thinks they wanna buy me off with treats." She doesn't even know for sure. Walter has quieted down a little more, leaning into the warmth of her shoulder and snuffling into more silence.
"Does it look like I give two damns what she's going to think?" Raquelle drawls softly to somebody who is asking him tentatively about something as he finishes spraying something in somebody's hair and ushering them along as he waits for Remi, cleaning a comb. He glances towards Nalani and her evil eye, making the sign against the evil eye. It involves using his middle finger to blow a kiss before going back to hair-care and make-up.
To her credit, the French curse words hat Remi is spouting is very pretty, the woman complaining all the while as she quickly slips into the bikini, the boots, and the other gear that hardly does anything to keep the cold out. She snuggles into the bath robe, a frown on her face as she readies herself. After a moment, a glance is cast toward the bawling model. "Ta gueule." That sounded harsh.
Then, she's being spirited off to Raquelle, clutching her robe around herself with a bit of a scowl on her face. She hates the cold. But at least she'll get a nice shopping trip out of this. She's been eyeing a new pair of Jimmy Choos for a while now, and while she could afford thm, she's held off.
Once she reaches the chair, she settles into it, closing her eyes and just…breathing. She needs to chill out, or she'll have a meltdown on the crowded set. That would most definitely be a Very Bad Thing.
"Stop giving me the middle finger Cambria or I'll call in my marker! Get Remi out on the set already, Daylight is fading" A harsh bark out from the before she's muttering under her breath in arabic and turning her attention back to Nisha. "So, an alternative to the Corinthian in other words. What's in it for me besides you hoping that our friendship might make me more inclined." Nisha knows that barring anything glaringly off, Nalani will no doubt invest. Her gaze is drawn to the baby, what glimpses of him that she can see and a whisper to a assistant means that they're hurrying over to Delia. "Ms. Hollingwood wants to see your son"
Maybe to eat him?
Zidaie's the beneficiary of an honestly kind intern, who sticks close to the old man, a concerned glance while another goes to find the set paramedic. "Really? Are you sure? He was probably saying it to cover his ass legally,but, I think we'll be closing up shop and I'm off in ten minutes sir, I can give you a ride to wherever it is that you need to go?"
There's some consideration from Ziadie, and he takes the biscotti from Delilah, with another half a chuckle. "Thanks." Another pause, and Ziadie considers the offer. "Alright, then. 's long as you don't call the ambulance or something." Despite the older man's current inability to stand very well, it's obvious that he's muttering about really being fine under his breath. That's old people for you. "I'd appreciate it, actually." Harlem is far, after all.
Nisha arches an eyebrow and smirks at Nalani's response, pushing aside the regret that's building up. She should have known better not to try and have a business-related conversation of this sort on one of the magazine mogul's sets. "Not entirely. The Corinthian is a hotel. Andhera is a nightclub." Legally, there is quite a difference between the two. "I'm prepared to offer you exclusive use during Fashion Week, and priority when booking events." That is, of course, assuming that the status quo, or whatever semblance of it is available, returns by February.
"No problem." He looks like he needs it more than Delilah does. She smiles at him and is about to skirt away when the intern comes over to her, and relays the request.
Please don't eat him! He has important things to do. Delilah looks a little concerned at first. "Wow, the editor's here?" And wants to see her son? While interesting, she won't find out why unless she goes over. "Um. Alright." Dee answers the assistant tentatively, gathering Walter closer and preparing to follow, amidst his bits and pieces of whining and snuffling.
Raquelle mutters under his breath, "Bite me witch…" Before he turns to Remi when she's in the chair. "Oh look at you darling! I'll make sure you have some hot coffee or something for after this…shoot it over." He assures the woman before doing what he needs to, hair…touches of make-up, draping a blanket over her shoulders as he works before tugging it off and chuckling softly. "You are lucky you are so gorgeous honey…look at you, go out there and make mama proud now, hm?"
Raquelle is a little ray of sunshine in a very cold place right now; Remi rather enjoys herself, clutching the blanket while he's working on her hair and makeup. "Merci. I would appreciate it." She offers a brief flash of a smile to Raquelle, before raising from her chair. She can't help but frown a little as she's making her way toward the set, clutching the bath robe to herself up until the very last minute.
Oh shit, it's cold. You think it's bad when you have a coat on? Try being in a bikini. But that ballet composure takes its effect, and her expression becomes a mask of cheer to match those of the other models.
"Done Nisha. Send the papers around to the magazine, I'll have my lawyers look at it. If there's any changes we want, I'll send it around and we can negotiate the diner details" But she's in, just like that. It's nice to have friends in high places and a willingness to invest. If curfew keeps up like it has the last year… well, at least there will be a place for those in a higher income bracket to host their little fete's late into the night. A sleep in, for the <insert endangered creepy animal here>.
As Delilah comes forward with her spawn - that's how Nalani looks at it - She's motioning for Delilah to turn him so she can see him, see Walter's face at least while Remi is unceremoniously tossed in with the other models, action called and a snowball fight ensues and the photographer snaps off hundreds of shots, trying to find the right one for the pages. Ziadie's intern just nods. "She'll be gone soon, and then I can take you. She just comes down to see how things are going, boss people around and then go. The Hollingwood way. I liked it better when she was in the UK. You want anything to eat there's some… food over in one of the trailers"
But back to Walter. Nalani reaches out, imperiously turning him gently this way and that, looking at his cheeks and lips. The shock of red hair that can be seen. "Who are you with? I have a shoot coming up, babies" She says the last word disdainfully. "I want him" Like she wants a birken bag or a cartier watch. "I want him" She snaps a finger for an assistant. "Find out who he's with, make sure they show up tuesday, I want test shots. Compare to the other ones that we have"
And then she turns her back on Delilah, back to giving Nisha her full attention. "When is it supposed to be open?"
"Some people are like that," Ziadie says. "Too many of them, but that's not my problem." The older man pauses. "No, no, there's food at home," he insists. He is stubborn if nothing else. Eventually, the older man just nods, and if the intern does insist on getting him a small amount of food, he's not going to argue.
Nisha doesn't fish her phone out again, but she does smile and nod, graciously keeping her victory quiet while Nalani conducts other business. Business with babies. "There are a few minor details left to tie up, but we're hopeful for a spring opening. I won't keep you longer," Nisha adds, reaching to touch the woman's arm with a gloved hand. "We'll do lunch or something. Soon." And with that, she gives the woman a parting, one-sided air kiss before she extracts herself, making sure to give the baby a wide berth.
Walter's little bit of unsettledness is so rudely interrupted by his mother and this- this- person whatareyoudoingtomyface- he even fixes her with a look that would one day be called incredulous. But babies can't really call those emotions up, so he just kind of looks dazed when Delilah laughs along his being showed off. This is funny. Plus it is Nalani Hollingwood prodding him, not just some schmucky lady. Dee has an ongoing subscription.
"Hah, um, I'm not with anyone. I was heading home through the park, is all." The- Nalani might note- very young mother is trying her best to not laugh. Her son seems to be distracted away from his fit. A plus. In a few seconds she is left to lift her eyebrows at whatever assistant comes over to her, looking quite dazed herself. All moms think their babies are cute, but really? Um.
Fingers snap and attention is drawn to the guy with the blow dryer as he sets that aside. "Woohoo, yes you. Tito…get that lady somebody deliciously chocolatey, coffee-y and hot as hell, I mean so hot the devil himself would burn his ass if he tried to bathe in it. Safe cup, all that jazz, thank you." He glances in the direction Remi with with a wistful sigh before starting to clean up his stations.
To her credit, Remi puts on a fairly good show for the cameras, even going so far as to pretend to laugh as she flings snowballs around, doing her best to put on a good show for the camera from her spot up high, the spot chosen to conceal that she is shorter than the rest of the models. Oh god, it is cold as balls, and she's already getting goose pimples all over her skin. But she looks like she's having a spectacular time of herself, at least! And that's all that matters, right? That she looks like she's having a blast for the camera.
Kiss kiss, goodbye, high society farewells. Nisha off to do what lawyers do and smug about the securing of more financing for her project. Delilah will be walking away with an appointment and a list of companies that will undoubtedly sign walter on so that he can be in whatever spread it is that Nalani wants the infant in. A little money to put away for his future education, or barring that, whatever it is that will make him what he is today.
Remi isn't long in the cold and soon she too, like the others who have pranced about in bikini's will be tucked away in their trailers and getting warm again with the knowledge that their pockets are filled a little more for shoes and purses, nights out with ladies. Ziadie at least will get a ride from one of the magazines kinder interns, though this time on the set, she doesn't break out into a sweat of bio-luminescence
And the kids. The moment the proverbial red tape is lifted, equipment is cleared and a good hundred snowballs that were made left behind, swarm the forts for a game of king of the castle, thanking whomever it is that little kids thank, for the good fortune of having these castles made. By morning, they'll be demolished, but for whatever spread of time that is left after the whole circus up and leaves, there will be some small few hours of happiness in a dreary city.