Going Nowhere • •

[John-Paul Calloway]

It might have been summer, but that didn’t necessarily mean that it was time to find a beach and forget about the city for a couple of weeks. JP had two summer workshop classes that he was running this year and both put on small performances at the end of their six week runs. They were nothing on the scale he was used to, but they were still elegant and he brushed them up to be the best they could be. JP refused to put his name to something amateurish when his reputation said he was better than that. He didn’t mind giving up the hours or putting the extra time in to work with the aspiring actors; he knew how hard it was to reach that dream. Besides, he didn’t have much else to do during the months when the college was quiet. He could get a role in something, possibly, but that would be about it. His family still lived back in Maine, but he rarely had contact with them so he wouldn’t be visiting the quiet town he had grown up in. The place didn’t exactly come with the greatest of memories for him either.

His life in New York was the stage. The teaching was a relatively new adventure. It didn’t quite have the same kick as standing in front of an audience delivering a powerful performance or a beautiful rendition of a number he had been perfecting for months, but he had to admit that he was proud whenever his saw his kids deliver a knockout performance. He probably pushed them a little harder than they were expecting, but he knew how brutal show business could be and he wanted each of them to give it their all from the start, rather than fall flat on their face with some mediocre effort that a critic would tear into shreds over a morning cup of coffee. He pushed, pushed and then still found something else to push a little more, right up until the very last moment. It seemed to work in his favour, even if the students had sometimes needed to take a break and probably complained about him once his back was turned.

The workshop was finished for the day, but JP was not. He wanted the small cast to have a full set and props organised for their next rehearsal. It was work he could mostly do on his own with the help of the sound system to keep him from being bored half to death in the large, empty auditorium. With the checklist he had written out the night before, JP pulled himself up onto the stage and crossed over to where some of the things had already been placed, since one or two actors had been eager to work with the props and the half assembled set of the old house. Collecting the props together he moved them to the desk where he often worked from, so that they were identifiable from the rest of the set necessities. Folding the list up, he slid it into the back pocket of his jeans and then glanced up at the bits of set they did have on the stage. He knew there was more to bring in and a few bits to collect from the art studios, but he’d do what he could first before he started phoning people and nagging them to bring him the rest or lend him a hand. They had most of the parlour scene assembled, so with the black crosses in place, JP set about moving the antique looking furniture into place.

[/size][/justify]

• • •

TAGGED! Hale <3
WORDS! 642!
OUTFIT! STAGE STYLE!
LYRICS! Fool With Dreams - - - Framing Hanley
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale]

There wasn’t much from Hale’s childhood she could do without trouble following close behind. And everything she could do straight had to do with art or old buildings. There were too many of the second that she’d broken into for her to have a job within their walls. That left only art, and though there were plenty of options her area of expertise, when it was all brought down to it, she couldn’t do half the things she wanted to. Her fingerprints were never found, there had never been a hair to fall and be left behind that couldn’t be explained. The police in too many cities had nothing on her but it only took one small thing to bring down the house of cards Hale had built for her new life. Ultimately, she chose teaching art to a bunch of kids who would never lay their hands let alone their eyes on a real Monet, Degas or Rembrandt. She wanted to give them a little culture that they wouldn’t get outside her classroom, even if they didn’t understand just what priceless treasures they were looking at.

Some of them though, had no help coming to them; even from her. She had touched and taken priceless pieces of art from all over the world, a couple of which hung on the walls of her apartment there in the city and those few just wanted a degree to show their parents that they were “real artists”. A degree didn’t give a person that. Talent, practice and life experience gave a person that title. Aside from those few though, Hale loved teaching and showing those students a new world to get lost in. New York was her second chance and she wanted art to be theirs. It was one of the reasons why she taught a summer class to a select few; the others were purely for her own benefit. There wasn’t a place on the planet that she either hadn’t been to or wanted to go to. And quite a few that she probably shouldn’t go back to for the being. It might have been ten years since she’d done a big heist but that didn’t mean a damn thing with the advances in the security world.

Another reason was because she liked being in the art studios when no one else was around. She had a studio in her place but there was just something about the studios at NYU that drew her in. Plus, she had a few pieces that needed to be finished for a production that just weren’t up to par for Hale. And she was a perfectionist when it came to anything she put her name on. She slipped in hours before after taking Degas and Rembrandt for a walk around the park to fix up a few little things here and there with a piece that should have been finished and delivered days before. But of course, she’d allowed a summer student to do the job, thinking he was ready and it had turned out he wasn’t quite there. It was her mistake, and she was fixing it.

Satisfied with the work she’d done, she went to grab a coffee from the vendor just outside the building and give it a few minutes to dry. Thankfully, it wasn’t a big piece and wasn’t difficult to carry over to the theatre on her own so after paying for her coffee, she went back up to the studios and packed up what was dry and ready into cases, tossing them over her shoulder and picking up the other piece in her free hand to bring it over to the theatre. She wasn’t expecting anyone to be there but the music caught her ears and the skills and training from her upbringing came back as if she were still on the job. She moved with cat like grace and stealth through the vast building, around and up behind the stage, out of the way. Carefully, she set the larger prop piece down, without a sound and continued forward, dipping her fingers into JP’s pocket as she went. “Working out the kinks?” Hale asked as she walked in front of her colleague to the other side. She set her cases down, leaning against the side of the desk as she took as she took a seat on a clear section and started to idly swing her feet outwards.

Tag || JP! <3
Words || 739
Clothes || Priceless
Music || Defying Gravity -- Wicked
Notes || <3

[John-Paul Calloway]

JP’s childhood was not something that he fondly remembered and the eighteen years he had spent in Southwest Harbor had left more unseen scars on the thirty-one year old than he ever cared to admit. Those scars were the reason why he could poke so much fun at himself when really they were dark insecurities. His parents hadn’t raised him to go out into the world and make anything of himself and acting was something neither of them really found fascinating. JP would go as far to say that they’d never stepped in a theatre more than twice in their lives, if that! Nowadays, he only heard from his mom if she needed something and his dad hadn’t received a phone call in a number of years. Returning home only brought back the painful memories that JP only held onto for the sake of perfecting his emotions on the stage. As far as JP could see it, his life was acting or nothing. He’d never been given the support he needed when he was young, he hadn’t had the money to attempt to find another talent outside of school and his grades, while decent, were not all that impressive. Drama was where he excelled and that had been a late enough discovery. By their senior year of high school most kids already had their talents worked out whereas JP had only just been finding his then.

It had paid off. He had a great list of roles and productions to his name both on and off Broadway. So badly he wanted to return to it, but he wanted more from his life, too and it seemed to be set in his mind now that he couldn’t have both. His ex-girlfriend had made that crystal clear and now he was still finding evenings when her words would echo around his head, reminding him of something else that he hadn’t been good enough for. When JP was feeling that deep, bottomless pit of self-pity, he kept it to himself. If time allowed it he headed away from the bright city lights and found an old hiking trail or something to keep his mind off the harsh critics he had faced all of his life, from the schoolyard bullies to the Broadway seen-it-alls. They had all filled the actor with enough self-doubt to keep him running on it for life, but JP was weathered to it all by now. It only bubbled over on the nights his thoughts took control and the rest of the time it was like water off a duck’s back.

Dragging a heavier piece of the set across the stage, JP winced at the noise it made. He was going to have to buff those marks before the cleaning staff noticed them and it gave them another reason to glare at the drama professor. They already dropped hints about his chaotic office, but JP didn’t understand why they just couldn’t leave it alone. He thrived in the chaos, even when he was throwing sheets of script and music about to try and find something he had misplaced. Before his position at the university he hadn’t needed an office or even a desk, so he was a little unsure of what to do with it now that he had one! More often than not it was either a hideaway to avoid a staff meeting or it was being used as a small practice room when he wanted to work with his students on something outside of their class hours. It worked well for that purpose, but there really was a lack of filing and organisation that was noticeable as soon as the door to the long office opened. Glancing up at Hale’s arrival, JP flashed her a small smile and sighed loudly. “Yeah, something like that. Perfect timing, by the way; I was going to head to the studio in ten to see if any of our pieces were ready.”

[/color] He would be fussing and working out the kinks until five minutes before curtain up on the night of their showcase, but that was just his way.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

• • •

TAGGED! Hale <3
WORDS! 726!
OUTFIT! STAGE STYLE!
LYRICS! Fool With Dreams - - - Framing Hanley
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale]

Hale’s childhood had been one adventure after another. The first twelve years she was a distraction, a small child with pigtails and a missing parent, aunt or uncle. The years following she was a more integrated part of the plan and by the time she was fourteen, she was running cons and pulling heists of her own. It had been exciting, a thrill; never knowing what was behind the corner if you turned left instead of right. She had some close calls over the years but it had never scared her enough to lay low until that last one. A death scared everyone; especially since things were checked so meticulously and everything was checked more than once. The “accident” scared Hale enough to lay low for so long she turned her life away from the family business completely. She didn’t think, even now she would be ready to go back into her family’s business. As much as she missed the life, she loved her life more and didn’t want to be the next one to find themselves with tampered with tools.

Though she still played around picking pockets and picking locks, she didn’t do anything huge and she only took things from places that she wanted in her home. She wasn’t a fan anymore of stealing for the thrill of it, for the cash at the end of it. She mostly did it these days because she wanted to keep her skill sharp and there was something somewhere she wanted and just couldn’t afford with her savings and teacher’s salary. Plus, there was no chance of any cross over since she didn’t know the people and she wasn’t about to fence anything. Art, painting and teaching were her life now, she didn’t have a real chance to scout, much less follow through with that. Besides that, she had to be so careful she didn’t let her old life collide with her new one. So far so good though, so Hale wasn’t about to complain.

Hale preferred her time in an art studio now more than she thought she would. Forgery had always been Hale’s strongest skill. Even when she was just starting out working the cons and heists properly, she was apprenticed under her uncle who also had the trained eye. But Hale had an innate skill that her uncle just did possess, even with all his talents. It was why she fell into art and painting so easily. With a single swipe of her brush in the wrong direction she could say her pieces were simply an ingenious reproduction and not a forgery. She sipped idly as her cooling coffee; already deciding the second she got home she was opening a bottle of wine. “Good thing I stopped by first then. I was locking up when I came over here so you wouldn’t have been getting in there tonight,” she said with a casual shrug. “I had to fix a couple pieces though that’s my fault for giving the project to a summer student who clearly wasn’t ready for it,” Hale added, huffing out an annoyed breath.

Tag || JP! <3
Words || 518
Clothes || Priceless
Music || Defying Gravity -- Wicked
Notes || <3

[John-Paul Calloway]

These days, JP put his life and soul into the theatre. He might not be flamboyant or over-the-top like some TV shows and comedies like to suggest he ought to be, but the stage really was his reason for breathing. It was acting that had granted him an escape from Southwest Harbor and the painful memories back there, and for every bad memory he had had since then there was a production to counteract it. Sure, those old memories of heartache, disappointment and sadness gave him a great bank to reach into when he needed to play up the emotion for a role, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to relive them. He hadn’t been home in years, had no contacts from his school days in Maine and had no intention of attending any of those high school reunions that were often the chance people wanted to reclaim their pride, or prove themselves to be more than what they had been back in those hallways. JP didn’t care. He didn’t feel like he had to prove himself, didn’t want to show off his achievements and he certainly didn’t want to be reminded of a chapter of his life that was well and truly over.

Even now, he still felt distant from most of the people around him. There were too many thoughts trapped under that unruly hair of his and too many worries weighted on his shoulders. It was why he was alone in the theatre right now, and why he spent a lot of time working on kinks that no one else could see. He was forever terrified of things not being good enough and would work himself to exhaustion trying to make sure that something was as close to perfection as it could be. It was his own inner demon and one he would probably battle for years to come. “You would have been getting a phone call to get your ass back down here.”

[/color] JP said with a smile, knowing he would do it or find a way into the studio to collect the pieces. He was in the mind-set now and it would all be done to his liking before he called it a night and returned to his SoHo apartment. “I know the feeling. These summer classes just aren’t long enough to perfect half of the things they want to learn.”[/color] Some of his students were brilliant, had promising potential, but there were others who really needed to hone their talents and it would take much longer than a six week workshop with him. Maybe if they didn’t strive to put on a show he could make it happen, but there was only so much time he could dedicate to one-on-one tutoring during these summer classes and it just wasn’t enough for his liking. Plus if they threw out the performance then what would the students have to show for their work?

He moved the first of the pieces into place and then stepped back to look at it. Now JP felt as though the chair was too close to it and the whole set was much too far to the left of the centre marking. There was a very good reason why he never had another professor helping him with this sort of thing; he would drive them crazy with his need for everything to be perfect! JP was a good teacher, offered great advice and classes, but he did have his moments like this where he would easily spend most of the night moving sets around rather than going home or going out and living his life. “So, are you leaving early today or is it just that late already?”[/color] He asked, sliding one of the tables back across the floor and stooping down to rip up the black marking tape that he had decided needed to be moved.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

• • •

TAGGED! Hale <3
WORDS! 688!
OUTFIT! STAGE STYLE!
LYRICS! Fool With Dreams - - - Framing Hanley
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale]

Hale was pretty happy she didn't have a distinguishable accent. Since she grew up all over the world, her French one lost its flare though it was still there when she didn't think too much about what she was saying. It was easier to hear when she ranted away in French but she tried to keep that in check whenever she was around most people. No one could usually tell where she was originally from and that helped her a lot; especially now that she was basically in hiding. She wasn’t any good at changing her voice or mimicking another accent, but since hers was one from everywhere, she didn’t really have to worry about it. She used to hate it when they were doing cons because she couldn’t pretend like she was from any one specific place but since she rarely took part in the main parts of a con, preferring the background for those particular jobs, she was safe. No, Hale had always loved the heist.

“And you would have been interrupting wonderful dinner plans,” Hale said dryly. She couldn’t cook to save her life, even though she had taken classes from the only one in her entire family who appeared to be able to throw whatever he wanted into a pot or pan and come out with the best tasting meal of your life. Some other members of the family could throw simple things together like stir-fry, salad, maybe a casserole or two. Hale wasn’t one of the lucky ones, she was lucky if she didn’t ruin a package of microwave ramen! It was a damn good thing she could afford restaurants and take out or she would starve to death. “So much potential and not enough time to nurture it,” she agreed with a sigh. Her summer class wasn’t that long and she only taught one but in the five weeks it ran, it wasn’t enough to teach anyone anything well enough, even for as excellent a painter as she was.

Hale sat back on the desk, idly swinging her legs out while she watched in fascination JP setting the stage. She had never been much into the dramatic arts for herself. She could do everything they could, probably better since she’d had to do it in a real setting and not on some stage. But those parts were probably Hale’s least favourite. She hated having to dress up this way or that to get what she wanted from someone. She didn’t hate the lying; it had been her life for so long that it came too easily, too naturally for her. But she wasn’t a fan of batting her lashes or using some flirty smile to get what she wanted. Her cousin had been so much better at that part than she was. She was the type that could walk into any situation and fit in seamlessly. Hale was good but in this case, her cousin was so much better; not that she would have ever admitted that. “What’s this early you speak of?” Hale said, quirking a brow at the Theatre professor. “It’s dark outside and I nearly had to beg for this coffee,” she said, raising her hand. The cart outside the art building had been about to close shop and was just serving its final customers when she fell into place behind two other people. If she had been a student, she was sure there would have been some sour words exchanged but she was a professor and she handed over a pretty tip every time she stopped at that cart. She was well known by the barista. “Want to grab dinner when you’re done?” she asked, sipping at her coffee.

Tag || JP! <3
Words || 619
Clothes || Priceless
Music || Defying Gravity -- Wicked
Notes || <3

[John-Paul Calloway]

JP wasn’t one for talking about his past or casually sharing childhood stories. He often made one or two dry digs at himself that hinted at the life he had come from, but he rarely sat around reminiscing about days gone by. He didn’t exactly want to be the whining actor, forever playing the “woe-is-me” role in the staff lounge. At least he was lucky that very few people asked curious questions that got down to the nitty-gritty; he was old enough for avoid most of the looks about spending Christmas in the city or working in some production he had just managed to fit in around his schedule. Passing on his wisdom and tricks to the next generation was excellent, but his heart would always be in performing under those bright lights, pretending to be a thousand different people, occasionally singing, sometimes the villain and other times the comical hero. He had played a wonderful variety that looked good on paper but felt even better to him when he thought back on those times. Basically, anything after Southwest Harbor came with better stories and more smiles.

Placing his hands on the back of the chair, JP looked over at Hale with a raised eyebrow and a blasé expression. “Honey, you could have been having tea with the Queen of Great Britain and I still would have ordered your ass back here for that art.”

[/color] He was far from throwing any kind of diva tantrum, but JP could be stubborn when the mood struck him and the mood had hit him hard after the last of his students had left the auditorium. He didn’t care if he was still there come sun up, JP was simply refusing to head home to his apartment until this set was exactly how it was in his imagination each evening. “Something like that.”[/color] JP mumbled as he twisted a desk into place and nodded in approval of its new home barely two inches to the left of its old one. Some of his students could go on and do great things, he was sure of it, but with the class being short and normal life resuming at the end of it, he had to wonder how much talent would be wasted and how many dreams would be long lost fantasies.

Sometimes it was a wonder JP managed to keep himself in the teacher’s chair. During the school year, it wasn’t entirely uncommon for him to take over a scene as an actor in an attempt to encourage improvisation from some of his classes, or to show how one interpretation of the script might look. It was then that he often forgot his true role and lost himself in the characterisation, slipping into someone else entirely and only snapping out of it whenever an outside distraction caught his attention or the script they were working with came to an end. Often enough the students thanked him, but JP sometimes felt as though he had lost twenty or so minutes in someone else’s shoes. He’d never be able to give up the stage, not permanently. He had friends who already told him that it was only a matter of time before this “phase” passed and he was back where he belonged in front of the audiences. “Really? See, this is probably why they used to have a clock in here.”[/color] He had borrowed a ladder and removed the contraption himself after catching too many students eyeballing the time. “When I’m done? Hale, I’m going to be here all night if past experience is anything to go by. There’s a better chance of the delivery guy dropping off food to here.”[/color] JP had done it before, but usually as a treat for his students when they were working late on a piece in the run-up to their final exams. It still earned him some funny looks from the delivery boy and some bemused voices on the phone. It had perked the classes right up though, and powered them on through the remainder of the late evening.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

• • •

TAGGED! Hale <3
WORDS! 683!
OUTFIT! STAGE STYLE!
LYRICS! Fool With Dreams - - - Framing Hanley
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale]

Hale never denied her past. It was what molded her into the woman she was now. But she didn’t talk about them either, she couldn’t. One wrong word, one wrong visitor to her apartment with a damn good eye for detail and she was in some serious trouble. That was the whole reason she didn’t have many guests and the ones she did have over, couldn’t tell the difference between a child’s finger painting and a Rembrandt. Hale snorted, shaking her head. “Pas ma reine,” She said without thinking before taking a sip of the nearly empty coffee cup in her hand. “And I would have stayed just to annoy you,” she added, grinning behind the coffee cup. Hale had always been the one of the group to keep the level head and tease the others for their freak outs. Thankfully, it wasn’t a part of her life she had to toss in box and seal it away to be brought out only when she was alone and had one too many empty bottles of wine taking up counter space. “They’re just kids, and not nearly as interested as they think they are,” Hale said, rolling her eyes. At least, that was what she saw in some of her students. They liked painting and art well enough, but none of them would end up working in any artistic capacity.

As much as Hale loved being behind an easel with paint all over her clothes, in her hair and colouring her skin, whenever she had a class, she was roaming because she knew how badly she got absorbed into her own pieces. She could spent hours and days behind an easel and things would never get taught in her class if she did that. She may not have been talented like JP, able to recite from memory Shakespeare or Poe but give her any medium and she could shock and awe. The blueprints of any heist had always been Hale’s job, or that of her uncle’s before any of the family realised just how good she was. And whenever they needed to replace a piece or switch one out, she was the one to create the reproduction. She’d never been good at pretending to be someone else and only worked the cons when she could be as close to herself as possible, so getting her hands dirty with paint, clay or whatever else needed to be done, she welcomed.

There were classes she wished didn’t have clocks in. Those students and those classes were so productive and she saw so much potential. But then there were others, she wished she were teaching in Hatter’s clock room, with all sorts of clocks running at different times so she could push them all out the door the second any one of those clocks chimed the hour. “They tend to come in handy every once in a while,” Hale nodded, agreeing. She threw a sheet over the one in her studio when class was in session. The sheet came down again when there was only a few minutes left in the class but from the moment it started, it was covered and only her cellphone’s alarm told her there was ten minutes left and to start cleaning up. “Of course, how could I forget, you don’t sleep,” Hale said loud enough for him to hear. She set her coffee cup on the desk behind her, out of the way. “Let me rephrase then. What am I ordering? I’m starving and if you don’t answer me,” she continued, lifting a hip from the desk and pulled her phone free. “I’m ordering pizza.”

Tag || JP! <3
Words || 607
Clothes || Priceless
Music || Defying Gravity -- Wicked
Notes || <3

[John-Paul Calloway]

JP’s apartment was littered with the essence of the theatre and everything that came with it. There were programs from shows he had seen as well as the ones he had been in, the soundtracks usually playing whenever he was home and singing loudly along with them and almost all of the photographs on his walls were of cast shots and collages of foolish backstage moments. Acting had been his salvation in every possible way and JP would only be an idiot if he tried to deny it, so he didn’t. His apartment could resemble a shrine to the stage and he wouldn’t regret decorating it as such.

“You’ve never had the pleasure of seeing me when I get demanding.”

[/color] He warned playfully. He wasn’t a terrifying presence by any means, but his passion for the dramatics and his commitment and small stubborn streak could sometimes combine to create a rather foreboding creature. He remembered an old director of his telling him as such when he came to witness one of the first student performances JP had put on. He had also tried talking the professor into heading back to the bright lights of the stage, but the emotions were still too raw and exposed for JP at that point. Now, maybe, he would consider it. With a small shrug, JP paused just long enough to admire the work he had done so far. “It takes time to find a passion. I never found acting until I was eighteen.”[/color] He admitted in a rare moment of talking about his time before New York City.

JP moved some more bits of the furniture and then kept shifting it back and forth until he had found the perfect spot. “There was never any point in them. Most of the time, when we had rehearsals if anyone so much as mentioned having plans later on there was a lecture from a director. In the end it was a case of finishing when we finished and time simply didn’t matter.”[/color] He didn’t usually care much either. JP lived to perform and if eighteen hours of rehearsals and pushing his vocal chords left him for a weekend with a gravelly voice and aching joints then so be it. It was part of his dream and he thought every part of it was completely worth it. Laughing, he managed a feeble shrug but didn’t try to argue with her. “There was a time when the wee hours were the only time I had to myself. It’s a habit I have yet to break out of.”[/color] Especially since living alone. JP often woke up on his couch or on his bed, but with all his clothes from the day before still on. With no one else to think about, he often got caught up in his own readings or movies and then woke up to Roxy pawing at him for her morning walk. “Pizza is usually the go-to.”[/color] He confirmed, moving the couch a final time before perching on the arm of it. “But you haven’t got to stay here. You can head home if you like, I’ll be fine.”[/color] He honestly had no clue when he would be finished and he didn’t want Hale sticking around only for her to get bored.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

• • •

TAGGED! Hale <3
WORDS! 589!
OUTFIT! STAGE STYLE!
LYRICS! Fool With Dreams - - - Framing Hanley
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale]

Hale had her memories, and a select few photographs from her childhood. They were the safe reminders, the memories that could be given an innocent tale. The only thing Hale wished for when she looked at those pictures or told abbreviated stories from her past was someone to tell the truth to. The cut most of the people from her past out of her life with little more than e-mails and text messages once in a while. Her father and uncle took to visiting once a year with the pretense of checking in on her but she knew it was easier to stay at her place while they were watching a mark. They never stayed when they were pulling a job, since she got out, they made sure they did their part to keep her out, but they stayed when they were doing the “innocent” things.

“I have a feeling I have boots in my collection scarier than you,” she said, laughing. She certainly knew people scarier than the scariest character JP could think up. She knew them to be oversized teddy bears but to the outside, they were some of the scariest looking people in the world. And then there were people like Hale who didn’t look like she could lift a heavy box breaking into some of the most secure buildings in the world and stealing. At twenty-nine, her apartment shouldn’t have been filled with the treasures it held; not unless she had been born into wealth. “I was just a baby when I found art,” she said absently, giving a small insight into the childhood she tried to keep to well hidden. She couldn’t afford to have the world knowing what she’d gotten up to while she still lived in France. Orange was not her colour.

Setting her nearly finished drink down on the desk, Hale hopped down and slipped out of the denim jacket before going back just behind the curtain where she’d set down the bigger pieces she’d dragged across to the theatre. Blowing the hair from her eyes, she lifted up the pieces and brought them back. “Not in here, no, I could understand that but in the art studio they’re great,” she said, setting down the pieces carefully. “Especially around deadline time.” That was what she called the last day the class had to work on their assignments before she expect them for grading. She gave her students plenty of time to work and allowed them to take their work home with them and so far, it worked just fine. In all her years of teaching, she only had one student who couldn’t quite grasp the context of the deadline time. Hale could understand that. With the life she led before she went straight, the wee hours of the night were the only ones she had to herself, the only ones where she didn’t have to look over her shoulder to make sure she didn’t have a tail. She would be curled up in the window seat of her room, the one she shared with her cousin, wrapped in a blanket with just a pencil, sketchbook and her thoughts to get her through the kinks in the plans they were working on through the daylight hours. She was usually good with only a couple hours of sleep a night, and even more so now that she didn’t have to worry about the lives of her cousins and family when they’re casing a place.

“It’s my favourite,” she said, laughing. “Though I do call the Chinese place a half block down. They have the best pot stickers, I swear,” she said, smiling wistfully. Hale shrugged, searching her contact list for the closest pizza place. It had to be her favourite food so she knew where every pizza place was within a five mile radius of her apartment and the school; just in case a craving hit and she succumbed to the demands of her stomach. “What’s waiting for me at home? A couple dogs that have already been walked to the point of exhaustion and fed by the twelve year old that leaves a couple floors below and left over Chinese,” she said, lifting her phone to her ear. “What toppings? I’m getting garlic bread with extra cheese and wings, too,” she added as the person on the other end connected their call and she went through the usual routine of information and the drop off location. She ordered two pizzas because not many people liked her version of vegetarian pizza, repeated JP’s toppings and added the rest of her order before thanking them. Just after she hung up, she checked the time and guessed when their pizza would get there. “Twenty minutes and you might want this,” she said, pulling his wallet from her back pocket and tossing it across to him with an innocent smile.

Tag || JP! <3
Words || 813
Clothes || Priceless
Music || Defying Gravity -- Wicked
Notes || <3

[John-Paul Calloway]

JP had never really thought about sharing the nitty gritty details of his past with someone. No one had ever asked him either, not even Kate. Maybe that was a sign that they were never going to last, but there was no point in dwelling on those things now; at least not without a bottle of whiskey. JP wasn’t fond of talking about it, but he had always thought that if the right person asked the right questions or caught him in the right mood of miserable nostalgia, then maybe, just maybe, he might have been more inclined to talk about his past without the sarcastic jokes and vague dismissals of the topic. No one came to visit him from Maine and he only made the rare phone call to check in with them since he wasn’t an evil or resentful enough guy to cut everyone out completely. Avoiding them was one thing, but he didn’t want to be the guy who totally ignored them and then regretted it in ten or fifteen years.

“You haven’t seen me as the villain then.”

[/color] He offered with a small smirk. Not his most common role to play, but JP had been cast as the bad guy a number of times and he could only assume he pulled it off well, since there hadn’t been any terrible reviews from the critics and he was offered similar parts over the years that passed. “Lucky. Saves blundering through years wondering what you’re good for.”[/color] JP commented, still twisting and turning bits of the furniture as though everything had to be perfect right down to the very last millimetre. Although, the way he saw things when it came to the theatre and this set, everything pretty much had to be.

Looking at the pieces Hale dragged out from their hiding spots, JP began examining the set some more, deciding exactly where each piece should go. When it came to the big productions that the college performed, most of the stuff like this came with the rest of the set that they hired in for the duration, but when it was just small like this summer class, JP had to work with what they could build between the college departments and what they had locked away in the drama’s prop unit. It gave him a few more chances to play about with stuff, but JP was always trying to make it look better then. “And when we get close to deadline the last thing we want to see is a clock. We don’t need to know exactly how many hours we’ve been locked in here for.”[/color] He joked, although he knew the feeling only too well. Whether he was acting or directing, the long hours and the exhaustion was still exactly the same.

JP did love a good take-out, but when he was working like this, pizza was the easiest to hold between his teeth and the least messy of all. “If I was at home I’d be ordering the biggest Thai dish imaginable. There’s an amazing restaurant just a block away from my apartment and the food is to die for. You really can’t order just a reasonable sized meal from there because you just want everything.”[/color] Living alone, JP often relied on New York’s take-out businesses more than he probably ought to. He just wasn’t a fan of cooking for one when he could just dial an order in and have it delivered or pick it up on his way home from the campus. “I’m sure the dogs would still find some energy to greet you with.”[/color] He grinned, knowing Roxy would do the same even if the walker he paid did run her ragged through the dog park chasing a slobbery tennis ball the daft dog refused to part with. “Jalapeno, chorizo and green bell pepper.”[/color] He railed off, his favourite toppings already at the front of his mind. “And I’m stealing some of that garlic bread. Ask them to throw in some drinks, too. Pepsi or something.”[/color] There was a vending machine down the corridor, but that was a little out of the way for his liking and would probably only spring to his mind after he had sat down to enjoy dinner. It was his luck to do something like that usually, and he couldn’t be bother traipsing down the empty hallways now just to find a vending machine that wasn’t out of drinks. Shooting Hale a look and shaking his head, JP slipped his wallet back into his jeans and sighed dramatically. “You should know by now that I never carry cash in there.”[/color] It was merely a place to store his cards. If any money was ever in there it was no more than $10. He’d have to run to the campus ATM before the delivery came, but luckily it was only a minute walk from the auditorium to the nearest one.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

• • •

TAGGED! Hale <3
WORDS! 867!
OUTFIT! STAGE STYLE!
LYRICS! Fool With Dreams - - - Framing Hanley
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale]

Hale loved her family and missed them a hell of a lot more than she let on. But it was safer for them all to stay away from each other. The few and far between visits were enough whenever someone was in the city or those even rarer trips Hale took to Paris. All they really had were cryptic, coded text messages and e-mails these days to keep in touch and let each other know how their lives were going. And it was the best possible way to get questions answered from Hale when the old team got stuck on something. She may not have lived the life anymore, but even with the new life there was no way of ever really losing the past. If there was a way to change someone’s DNA, Hale might have thought about it, for a second or two but she refused to change who she was, or where she came from. Every part of it made her who she was but that didn’t mean she could talk about it; no matter how much she absolutely wanted to tell someone.

Grinning, Hale shook her head. “I don’t know if I want to,” she said honestly. She saw too many bad guys when she was younger, and being one of them at the time, she could tell who was really bad and who wasn’t. She wasn’t one of the really bad guys, none of her family were. And as aware as she was that it was just another role for JP to sink his teeth into, she knew it was a good actor. He would have been a damn good part of any plan Hale could have cooked up ten years ago. Knowing that though, had her hoping she only saw the “bad side” of JP when it came to a comically useless villain in a play. “You either knew what you wanted or you were told what to do. I figured it out fast,” she admitted. She had never been one to follow and she could only act her way out of a paper bag if she had no other options available to her. And, having an innate ability like her uncle helped get her out of those situations since she was usually hidden away somewhere doing something artistic for the cause.

Having that innate ability really only gave Hale a finite amount of options for career paths and job choices. And with her background, she couldn’t do anything with big money; plus anything too big, too in the spotlight of the company meant she couldn’t play thief if the mood struck; especially since she was an unknown and the police in so many countries still couldn’t quite figure out how the heists were pulled off. No reputation was the best kind in her old world and Hale had lived by that single rule her entire life; don’t get caught. Plus, being an art professor gave her quite a bit of time in the studio when she wasn’t in a lecture hall trying to get her student’s little brains to remember exactly what the difference is between this period and that of a specific iconic artist. “Yet another difference between my art and yours,” Hale teased.

For a lot of Hale’s life, she lived off fast food and take out from too many restaurants to count all over the world. When it was just the group she usually worked with, a home cooked meal was rare. And that, sadly, followed her into adulthood. She could toss together a quick meal but more often than not, she was ordering meals from some upscale restaurant; a habit that was hard to drop after so many years of grabbing food on the fly. There were a couple months she remembered fondly that were filled with pizza and nothing but. She should have been sick of it, but it was just one of those things. “Sounds heavenly,” she said, practically drooling. “You’ll have to take me there sometime.” Hale was a fan of food. “They are Yorkie’s. They’ll probably get their fifth or sixth wind by the time I get home,” Hale agreed, rolling her eyes. Her dogs were hyperactive little critters. It was one of the reasons she habitually brought them along with her to the studio and classes. All the attention and little spaces to hide had them exhausted and searching out the big bed they shared in the living room.

Hale repeated JP’s toppings order, adding in they wanted Pepsi for the drinks that came with the order and added in a couple dipping sauces because the craving struck. “That’s enough for coffee,” she said, tilting her head to the side, an innocent smile on her lips. Though JP didn’t know where she’d picked up the skills to pick his pocket and he’d never asked outright, he knew of the skill. He was probably the only permanent residence of New York that did know. Hale usually kept those particular skills to herself because she knew too well what happened when the wrong person knew about the wrong skills. She hadn’t gone down the path personally but she’d seen it and been a part of the revenge plan to set it all straight again and she didn’t want that for herself. She only did enough now to keep those skills from her old life sharp.

Tag || JP! <3
Words || 899
Clothes || Priceless
Music || Defying Gravity -- Wicked
Notes || <3

[John-Paul Calloway]

JP didn’t miss Southwest Harbor. The way he saw it, there was nothing there to miss. He had left that place and turned his back on bad memories and years of torment and neglect. There was no reason to return, phone calls were few and far between and he felt no obligation to anyone there. School reunion requests would go ignored, old faces who tracked him down online and claimed to be his friends were deleted and JP erased those eighteen years from his life for the most part. Sometimes he felt bad about it, but those were the times he was usually feeling bad about himself and pretty much everything else in between. Those days were cured with bottles of something strong and usually a hangover the following morning. Finding the stage had dramatically changed his life, had given JP a purpose and had helped him close the door on the years he hated the most.

Now the characters helped him escape the memories when they crawled back up and occasionally put good use of those playground demons. Shaking his head, JP bit back the grin and shrugged. “Not many people do, oddly enough.”

[/color] He joked, although it was oddly true. Scratching his jaw, JP took a moment to think about that. His childhood had very few fond memories and instead he could only ever recall a small boy having to act ten years older than he ought to have to. “Neither were a luxury I had.”[/color] He mumbled, shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts. His family hadn’t given him all that much. Even chores were a thing he did off his own back because it was necessary and not because he had been instructed to. It was not a childhood for anyone to experience and it could very well be something that had held him back from his last relationship.

Without the stage, JP honestly had no idea what would have become of his life. He’d probably be in some dead end office job that he hated, bumbling through his life only to have a breakdown and a long list of regrets by the time he turned fifty. So far, acting had helped him avoid that and luckily he had been able to find a steady stream of work from production to production, be them small roles or main parts in front of a thriving audience. He wanted that back. Teaching had been a choice in a moment of terrified madness and now those clouds were lifting he was starting to understand that his true heart was on the stage and not teaching it. Maybe in a handful more years when he was tired or had other commitments in his life it would be something he’d happily fall back into, but right now he was just missing those long rehearsals, running lines and taking that final bow more than anything else. “We could be here for hours listing the differences and I already intend to stay late enough without adding that discussion to things.”[/color] JP joked, taking another moment to check the set over.

Used to long hours, late nights and exhausting rehearsals, most of JP’s adulthood had been fast food paced. Long rehearsals came with ordering in something for the cast and performance days usually involved the case grabbing a late lunch and an even later dinner from wherever was open and tasty by the time they all rolled out of their costumes and their commitments. Some went home to families and had a meal with their partners, but with most of JP’s past containing large ensemble groups, there were a lot of them who were all in the same boat of hating to cook alone and lacking the motivation to do it after a tiring day or at a late hour. Luckily those long hours and vigorous rehearsals helped them not let it show in their physiques. “Next late night it’s on me.”[/color] He promised, a smile tugging as his lips as he hopped down from the stage, leaving the set adjustments for the time being. “Roxy will probably try to entice me into a late night walk, too. Then she’ll hog the couch when I try to watch TV.”[/color] His own dog was far too humanlike at times, but she was JP’s companion in this city and the one who could come up to him and curl against his side when he was having a bad day. They say dogs are man’s best friend and with Roxy, JP could understand why!

“And usually it’s gone by the time I teach my first class.”[/color] He reminded her. An odd habit perhaps, but JP was full of quirks born from not really knowing what to do or from being taunted about something in his youth. A stronger man for it all now, he still held back on some things. “I’ll be back in five.”[/color] He made the trip to the ATM and back in quick timing, strolling back into the auditorium with the cash folded in his wallet. He was looking forward to the pizza now, his head thankful for the break of rearranging furniture and props as though they were going to be inspected by some high Lord.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

• • •

TAGGED! Hale <3
WORDS! 919!
OUTFIT! STAGE STYLE!
LYRICS! Fool With Dreams - - - Framing Hanley
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale]

Hale didn’t mind spending her money on her friends. She didn’t have any known family to them and she didn’t talk about any family in depth because it led to questions and she couldn’t answer them. She could say how much she missed them and tell an abridged story but she could never say everything that she wanted to. It bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Really, Hale just wished she had someone in her life that either knew of her past already or she could tell without fear of anyone else finding out. JP knew little bits and bobs, like her little pickpocketing skill but he didn’t know much else. And Hale liked him way too much to put him in any position that might hurt him. As far as anyone needed to know for Hale, her life started eleven years ago when she was eighteen and she would like to keep it that way for as long as she possibly could.

“You’re just too sweet to be thought of otherwise.” Hale stated, grinning. Ever since she met JP she’d thought he was nicest man she’d met in a very long time. Of course, he was the first man in a very long time to talk to her and not be a mark. So it was refreshing knowing him as a person and a friend with no criminal motives attached. “That’s a shame.” Hale said, shaking her head. In the end, as much as she had needed to walk away from the life, she had been given a wonderful childhood full of family and affection. They might not have gone about things the same and everyday folk but they still each had their responsibilities. Hale and her cousins still had chores that needed to be done around the Paris house when they were home. The cooking was always done by one of the uncles who had learned to cook to be the inside man on a long con in a hotel job. But none of the cousins had ever gone without, even when a job had them looking like they did. And as far as Hale was concerned, they had it made with a warm bed to go home to, hot meals and family that was always there to help when someone needed it.

Without school, Coty Adelaide Cosette Hale would probably not exist at the current moment. Changed names once upon a time about as much as most people changed their clothes; probably more than that even. Each new job had a new name unless the last hadn’t somehow managed to get burned or remembered. Hale had made sure when she was using those names not to use them often so she could have a full supply and not need to go back and forge new documents to prove “Marianna Gaines” really did exist. It was just tedious work to make new identities. “So a conversation for another meal then.” Hale said with a light shrug of her shoulders and a teasing smirk. With her stomach starting to protest the lack of food, Hale ran her hand over her stomach hoping the mini massage would ease the hunger pains. She should have been used to long hours and forgotten meals, she hardly slept and when she did it was for a handful of hours before she was wide awake and at it all again. Maybe the last ten or so years had made her soft. “So, you get Thai tomorrow?” Hale asked, laughing. Like JP, every night was a late one for Hale. Laughing, Hale nodded her head. Her two little monsters were all over the place whenever she was home. If she wanted to stretch out in on the couch, she had to take a small spot and give up the rest for the pair of teacup Yorkie’s.

Hale practically lived on coffee. If there wasn’t one in her hand, there was one usually within arm’s reach. “I really don’t know how.” She stated, shaking her head sadly. “Enjoy your walk!” Hale called, grinning as she leaned back on the desk she was using as a seat. She waited until JP disappeared from the room before she pulled her phone from her pocket again and checked her phone. The kid who watched over her little monsters when she wasn’t home always texted her when he brought the boys back. She hadn’t heard from him yet though and she was starting to worry. Hale was finishing up the quick text she was sending his way when JP came back into the theatre. Seeing him walk up the aisle towards the stage, Hale jumped from the desk and walked to the edge of the stage. “Tonight you have to sing for your supper.” She said appearing as serious as a heart attack, which she was not. It wasn’t that she couldn’t act, she could but she had never enjoyed that part of a con. Her cousin on the other hand lived for those moments, getting to be another person to draw attention and keep it away from Hale. For Hale, she liked being able to slip through the crowd without anyone bothering to take a second look her way. She wasn’t memorable and she was perfectly okay with that; especially since it had made her life that much easier.

Tag || JP! <3
Words || 892
Clothes || Priceless
Music || Defying Gravity -- Wicked
Notes || <3

[John-Paul Calloway]

JP wasn’t the most sociable person on the planet, but his days as a loner were over, too. He sort of drifted in the middle, but his time on the stage often meant that he had temporary friendships that eventually drifted away whenever people moved on to other jobs. It wasn’t the case every time, but there were plenty of examples he could give. For the friends who were around on a more permanent basis, JP was thankful. He didn’t feel all that comfortable sharing personal information and stories about his past, but it was still good to have them around. They were the people he thought of as family now, even if he wasn’t the greatest at saying anything about it.

“Why, thank you, but it’s really not the case.”

[/color] He laughed, shaking his head. Compliments and everything remotely like them were not handled well by JP. He could just about accept positive reviews about his performances and even then he was humble about them. Anything on a more personal and less professional level were just brushed off with vague corrections, heavy sarcasm or insults aimed at himself. “That’s life for some of us.”[/color] He shrugged lightly, letting the subject drop there. He didn’t like letting pessimism or cynicism creep into his life with his friends. He’d rather save that for the nights when he was feeling a little sorry for himself and those moments came when he was alone and had every intention to stay that way.

He had come a long way from the little boy in the clothes too big. However, he felt this last year had been a step back rather than the leap forward he had been growing accustomed to. It did help JP reflect on everything in his life and figure a few things out, but he was starting to see less and less that he liked. The last thing he wanted was to wind up in a routine that he despised or a life that he didn’t feel wholly fulfilled with. He didn’t know what he would do right now, but he knew that he needed to make a decision soon or else he’d end up a grumpy old man before he had the grey hair and the bad eyesight to accompany such a claim. “And a very large bottle of something strong.”[/color] Deep conversations like that needed an alcoholic accompaniment as far as JP was concerned. It was the only way he could get through them. He was an actor, not some great philosopher or highly regarded speaker. He learnt lines, could immerse himself in a character but strip him of a role and leave just the man and JP was very simple. He just blundered through life and tried to keep things straightforward and avoid any drama that wasn’t scripted or in the centre of a theatre. “Oh, haha, very funny.”[/color] With a roll of his eyes, JP glanced back over the set. Tomorrow would probably be a late one, too, but he was most likely going to have his students for company so they could neaten up their performances.

JP didn’t feel like he belonged in the college some of the time. He had never imagined himself as any sort of teacher before and even now he felt awkward if he was racing by students to move to one place or another. At least at this hour and during the summer the campus was mostly deserted. It just reminded him of late night rehearsals and the short breaks for snacks and fresh air that they took to stop themselves acting as sourly as they sometimes felt. It was something he loved, but the hours were not always the friendliest and he had learnt that a long time ago. Returning back to the dimly lit stage, he paused and arched his eyebrow at Hale’s words before taking a breath and going along with the joke. “When you see a guy reach for stars in the sky, you can bet that he’s doing it for some doll…”[/i][/color] He began, walking closer to the stage as he drew that particular verse to a close. “Happy now?”[/color] He asked, shooting Hale a bland look and shaking his head at her.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

• • •

TAGGED! Hale <3
WORDS! 751!
OUTFIT! STAGE STYLE!
LYRICS! Fool With Dreams - - - Framing Hanley
NOTES! <3 <3 <3