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Post by Fleur Fri Jan 07, 2022 11:59 pm

Casting Call! 35e7241be935e42e171b88a058a171b5


Below a ceiling of four chandeliers was a great bed that stood out with its elegant white sheets, all of which engulfed a slumbering fairy like a warm cloud. It would have been a charming picture for the reader had the sleeping wonder refused the call of a friend.

“I wonder if all this is happening because I didn’t forward that email to ten people. Nevermind; in the world of show business, bad news is good news—for somebody else. Have you notified the head honcho yet?” sighed the fairy, cradling the phone to her ear.

She wiped the drool from her lips with the arm of her puffy sleeve.

Fleur’s eyes would have widened to the size of saucers if only the flesh of her eyelids weren’t so heavy. Her unflattering pale mouth of pink made up for the near lack of shock in her eyes.

“You’re yanking on my wings here. You want me to do what now? That’s like telling me to die. What if I don’t want to, huh? Just what are you going to do about it, Camila? Wait, don’t answer that. I’ve got a closet full of skeletons; I don’t need the countless blackmail.”

She let out a defeated sigh.

“Mm-hmm. Dark times. Been there, done that. Fine. I’ll spill the beans in your steed; I’ve got that nice delicate touch. Be free, coward. Hey! Hey, listen. Before we end the call today? A piece of advice for the future. Don’t burn your bridges.”  Fleur was interrupted by the fellow actress’ defensive mumbling as she dealt with the verbal blows. The patience with her was surprising.

Fleur tiredly rolled her mascara smeared eyes and clumsily pressed a palm to her forehead to soothe the rising anger from making it to her voice.

“You’re young, you’ve got a nice face, so you can bounce out of this like nothing, alright? But if you keep pulling that schtick on people, all your opportunities are going to close the door on you. Word spreads like wildfire and— no, I’m not being a Negative Nancy about this. I’m dishing out some mad wisdom here — with half a brain —- this early in the morning because you’re too much of a coward to tell him you’re quitting.” She huffed, the frustration finally making itself clear in her voice.

“Don’t gaslight me. How am I being insensitive if I’m helping you, Camila? I shouldn’t be, sure, but I am. See, if the grass is so much greener on the other side, then water your own and stop trying to set it on fire!”

The silence of a dead line signified the end of a wasted conversation, and she dropped the phone onto the mattress with a prominent frown on her lips. A long period in this bizzare vigil was eminent. Fleur lay in her bed still, unwilling and motionless; she wanted to sleep more, but she also wanted to call her back and try to resolve this the peaceful way.

Fleur was too angry and couldn’t be bothered to do so, even if it was the right thing to do. It wasn’t her fault people got their panties in a knot so easily.

“Ughhhhh!” came the stubborn cry of a mule, with thin arms stretched over her head and massive golden locks replicating a forest of dying trees twisting in every possible direction.

”All aboard the hot mess express!” she complained through her jungle of hair, rolling lazily off the bed and landing painfully on her side.

Things were already starting very badly. She only stubbed her toe on the way to the shower, got shampoo in her eyes, and the strap of her shoes sprang off.

Nothing was going right.


She had passed through the grand gate of her home, and she shared the street with other cars that were small and budget smart. That bright yellow jalopy she drove was a cover, and so was the giant blue wig that obscured the massive flaxen tresses on her head.

The sunglasses on her face were admittedly ridiculous, but because they were, no one could ever rightly guess her identity.

She didn’t consider herself very fashionable, but according to some folks she was.

Her accessories jiggled humorously as she carefully went over a speed bump, the frown on her face louder than the violent beeping from the car in front of her.

She lowered the window and poked her colorful head out from inside the car, eating pieces of her billowing hair as she yelled hoarsely into the wind: “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” she had to stop her howling screamer for just moment to spit out the blue threads from her lips, “making all that noise for nothing, you putz! It’s too early for this! The sun isn’t even up yet and you’re already causing a ruckus!” she slinked back into her seat with all the zest of a dour sack of potatoes.

There was absolutely no parking by the time she got there. Quietly simmering, she paid for the not so free parking, which was also disgustingly full.

She got out of the vehicle and began to move about vaguely before the valet on standby. She had no idea how she was going to cross the traffic-jammed road on foot without getting run over by pedestrian-ignoring morons, and something told her that it wasn't going to get any easier parting the sea of people — trying to get into the building.

They all wanted to reserve their place in line for the auditions, that was understandable. The hours would be long and grueling just for a little glimpse of onscreen fame.

On the way to the set in a white summer dress and still very much alive as she click-clacked hurriedly past beeping cars in white high heel shoes, grumbling over her poor choice of footwear.

In minutes she might as well have transformed. The fairy walked with her chin high, slouched less and exchanged her ordinary talk with an accent that was truly extraordinary.

“Well, I have saddening news, which is why I need to talk about it, which is why I'm here.” The fae woman said with a lovely drawl, tilting her head closer to the phone gingerly pressed to her ear, her stride becoming smoother, quieter. “I’m afraid our sweet Camila is out for the count. Family emergency and all. We will need to recast her soon.”

His laugh of frustration was met with an uneasy sigh of her own. “I will see you in five? I have time to kill.”

He didn’t deny her offer.

Much time later.

The disguised actress entered the set with little trouble and allowed her curious gaze to land on a silvery-haired youth, with very pretty eyes and a most innocent-looking face.

Fleur was already interested in this one as she propped her elbows onto the table she was occupying with a few others.

She cocked her head to the side with what she hoped looked like a warm smile.

This must have been a nerve-racking experience for the girl so she wanted to be as open as possible.

“Tell me about yourself,” Fleur said, ignoring all the raised eyebrows in the room.

Word Count; 1205

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Casting Call! Empty Re: Casting Call!

Post by Isla Paledragon Sat Jan 22, 2022 12:31 am

Casting Call! Cfd22dc5afaf7c20ecaec96806d24f1f


“I still do not know why i agreed to this, this is such a you thing not a me thing.” She expressed with a tired and rumbly voice as she sat cross legged on her bed, the phone off to her side on speaker as a bowl of Ramen was cradled in her lap and a book lay spread on the bed in front of her.

“Come on Isla, please don’t cancel on me okay? You know i could really use some company at this thing, just anyone i know so im shitting it just a little bit less okay? Besides, you don’t even have to try that hard if you don’t want to, just be yourself and see what happens.” The voice whispered back through the speaker, the sound of a girl clearly trying to not wake the room next door occupied by her younger brother.

“You know, when i called you and said we should hang out again some time…” She paused momentarily to eat a fork loaded with the noodles, her mouth still half full as she finally finished the statement. “…I did not expect you to drag me to a job interview. Fuck you for making me work for a living.”

“Isla don’t you literally fight monsters for a living? I’m pretty sure that is harder than remembering some words on a sheet of paper.”

“Don't bully me, these are really big words.” She wasn’t even able to finish the sentence as she descended into laughter. Chuckling at the fact she had an audition the next day thanks to this friend from high school. An audition for an acting role when she hadn’t acted since she moved out from her dad’s house and no longer had to lie about using the fire escape as a shortcut in and out during the night to grab a milkshake. “Just promise me you won’t leave me alone with these people okay? I’m awkward enough as it is without people figuring out i’m not supposed to be there.”

“Sweetie, half the people auditioning with us are in the same boat as us or even less qualified. If nothing else just do that thing where you crush a can and it makes them scared of you.”

“Katie that worked when we were fourteen and Zeke Ashford kept being a sexist shitsack. If i crush anything it will be their face.” She gave a shrug though was fully aware it could not be seen.

“No crushing their faces, that’s… bad for their health.”
Was the half humorous half concerned reply she received.

“But Katie…”

“Isla, get some sleep.” Her voice became firmer but not too harsh, clearly drained in energy by her own need to sleep.

“Fine, i’ll see you tomorrow, i hate you but i love you.” She didn’t wait for a reply as she ended the call, simply continuing to make her way through the midnight snack as she continued reading the book currently held open by a can of deodorant to act as a doorstop of sorts. It was the some cheesy young adult novel called Saviour of the Sunken City, and she just got to the part where Erika, the protagonist, was named captain of the ironclad vessel which would surely save the city from the sea monsters by the time she got to the end. Surely, she just needed to get there, perhaps even that night.


Despite her late night, she did eventually catch some sleep. The sun through her window catching her eyes as they tried to pry open but only making a groan of protest escape as she moved her hair to act as a barrier against its brightness. It took a moment to realise why she had woken up, after all the late night should have kept her slumbering closer to midnight, but then she heard the familiar tune of an alarm which was not just a figment of her imagination as first suspected.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she pushed herself up sharply, hoping the force of her rise would be enough to make her think perhaps it would not be worth returning to bed. It failed in one regard, bed would still be worth it, but the sudden sit up was enough of a first step that she did swing her legs over the edge and stand up a couple minutes after first acknowledging the alarm. Turning it off as soon as she could focus on it and slowly making her way through to the main area of her apartment as she blinked away the sleep.

Her routine that morning was pretty straight forward, and she decided against the long morning run considering she had no idea what would be expected of her once there, what if they needed her to do something physically demanding and she was already exhausted or weak in the legs? So instead she grabbed herself a bottle of water from the fridge, a wooden training sword, and began kicking some of the junk on her floor away to clear room for her exercises. The warm ups routine she devised using the training sword was enough to keep her joints strong and mobile, warming her up for the day ahead but she did end up having to close it off with the usual sit ups, push ups, pull ups and the five minute breaks between each where she got side tracked by new posts on Vycon. A shower later, an improvised breakfast and a quick change, then she was off out the door for the day ahead.

On the route lay the most important stop of all, that of a small coffee shop a couple streets over that she could get some caffeine in her system, she often used to say that while some had magic she had coffee, so who was truly the most powerful. But with her travel cup in hand, Isla cued up at the bus stop she checked for the night before. Knowing it was the correct route to carry her towards the audition she leant against the bus stop and began the arduous journey of picking a song to start her adventure into the world of acting.

Once the bus came it was a fairly log ride towards her stop but not down to the distance. Just the amount of stops it did have to make, the surprising levels of traffic also that morning were holding them up but nothing too drastic to worry about. Just enough that she was afforded chance to zone out and disconnect from reality for a time, the beat of her music subconsciously causing a rhythm to tap between her finger and foot, gentle and quiet but enough that it expressed her inner imagination as she pictured each sing as the soundtrack over her own movie. Not that she would ever star in her own movie, actors required charisma and she was self aware enough to know it wasn’t her calling exactly.

But despite this lack of destiny for performance she still got off that bus, dropping down in her trainers and black jogging bottoms, a casual pale blue shirt hung over her frame and the wind was kept away by the dark and white plaid shirt she wore unbuttoned over the top. Coffee in one hand, backpack over one shoulder and in the other hand her phone as she texted in order to track down her friend from high school. The one she prayed would be there ready to meet her so she wasn’t so awkward as to stay far away from the queue and pretend she was waiting for something else on that street.

Much to her saving grace however she did not have to deceive in such a manner, as it was only a short walk down the pavement she heard someone cry her name. The other girl, same age as Isla roughly though even more of a Rivengate kid than even she was. A werewolf from one of the housing estates own the North side, her dad worked for one of the radio stations while her mum had some desk job at Aura. After high school there was no question where she would go, she would stay there, went off to an acting school near the Western beach and worked night shifts at a bar picking up bottles and occasionally serving them.

Together they joined the line for the auditions and it was possibly the most uncomfortable wait in Isla’s life, filled with introductions more cold in chemistry than a tundra. While others would ask questions to pass the time which she answered either far too openly or so sharp and short it left no room for follow through conversation. Despite it all though she mad it, she survived, they both entered the building and began filling tables around the waiting areas as various arrivals got called through to perform their pieces. It as daunting, terrifying, and all the while she was exposed to conversations she couldn’t be more clueless about.

It was when Katie had been summoned away from the waiting area that the worst moments of her day began. Sat there, coffee in hand though almost every drop was finished, listening to a variety of other girls discussing the various compositions of vocal types in the upcoming cast of a stage musical, Isla knew that she knew nothing and likely never would. But it was during this time when another approached their table, Pale with cold slim features and vibrant eyes, she could have been crafted though Isla knew not if that was comforting or unnerving despite the women’s otherwise beautiful features. She smiled, it was nice but strangely random, and with an awkward closed mouth smile she replied. Forcing warmth into her own presentation as she straightened her back and fidgeted with the case of her phone.

“Oh… i mean, yes, myself…” The young women answered in surprise and alarm as she tried to figure that maybe sharing life stories was normal in the kind of environment. “My name is Isla, i am from Rivengate…” The awkward pause amongst the girls watching her made it slightly clear that was not enough to warrant an introduction. “I like to fight bad guys on the mainland and get paid to do fun shit which is way more dangerous than my dads would like… and i am here to play…” Her eyes widened in alarm as she realised something crucial. She had already forgotten the background role she was there to fill.

Word Count; 1760
Total word count; 2965
made bycapt. meows
Isla Paledragon
Isla Paledragon

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