tampered | OPEN;

When; Saturday and Sunday, February 16-17
Rating; Individual threads may vary!
Characters; Everyone is welcome! This is an open log for Polyites and 4th Wallers alike, so just specify if it's an open thread or if you have 4th walling rules in the comment or subject line!
Summary; It's been a 4th Wall tradition to open up the Blue Light for mingling between the masses since even before Rosella took charge of it, and she certainly doesn't see any reason to change that tradition anytime soon.
Log;

The lucky thing about the days when the visitors come is that they do follow a sort of pattern--once per season, or thereabouts, the floodgates open and the tidal wave of unfamiliar faces comes pouring into the city to mingle about for a weekend. It's not predictable the way that some things are predictable, but for someone who's lived in the City for four and a half years now (and she has), it gets to be...well, anticipated, at the least. The last time everyone had come around was in November, and it'd been a fair few months since, and now spring was drawing nearer with every day and--oh, we haven't seen the visitors come about in a while, have we?

So while the Blue Light isn't precisely prepared for the rush of chattering guests, it's still certainly better off than it might've been. Nearly a year of practice at running things has made Rosella considerably more confident in the way she manages her staff, and the usual affairs of business are running about as smoothly as anyone could expect. Drinks are poured, laughter fills the air, and the band is doing an admirable job of setting the mood with a selection of swing classics (and a swing arrangement of Greensleeves, out of secret self-indulgence) that keep a fond and reminiscent smile solidly on Rosella's face.

So come on in, take a load off, try the food, have a drink; if you're feeling so inspired, head on over to the open space cleared near the band and try to catch a pretty partner for a dance. And if you're looking for Rosella, well, she'll be behind the bar practicing her drink-mixing and taking the time out to chat with anyone willing to stop and say hello.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I hope I'm never unfashionable.

It's a little old-timey, isn't it? Not that I mind old-timey, it certainly goes with the whole motif of the place, but it makes me think of Grandmother.

I don't think Grandmother actually listens to this kind of music.

[He's laughing a little, though]

You can't imagine Grandmother and Grandfather...oh, what's the phrase. "Tripping the light fantastic" to something like this back in their "heyday"?

[Now she's just trying to make him laugh.]

[Oh, and he does]

I've seen photographs. They look old even when they're young.

I don't think Grandmother's changed hairstyles in sixty years.

[She fiddles with her straw.]

But now that I'm here--late or not--we should talk. I don't think getting you out of inheriting the family business is going to be quite so easy as just having you run off to some tiny island with no extradition treaties, and we need a plan.

[He sighs]

I just want to join the army. I didn't think they would be so against serving my country.

They're not. They just think you should serve it from behind a nice glass-topped desk in a sky-rise somewhere.

And that I should get married and plan parties and never worry my pretty little head over a thing in the world again.

[He shakes his head. He has a lot of opinions on that, but none he'll share outright]

You're so much better than that.

Well, that's why I'm going to be the one behind the nice glass-topped desk in a sky-rise somewhere, and you're not going to be on a tiny island with no extradition treaties.

[She taps her straw against her mouth.]

I think we need to start with Grandfather. It's not that he's against you being in the army. He just doesn't want me with the company.

What if I tell him I'll take the company when I get back, on the condition that you work in the mailroom or something.

And then I promote you up into executive.

I know it's not glamorous for a few years.....

In the mailroom? Ugh, I'd usurp you first.

You can't start in a corner office, you know.

There's a healthy medium between CEO and the mailroom. You could at least think of me as a commissioned officer.

I'm trying to think of a place that grandfather will let you go for.

How about university? I've been trying to work out the possibility of offering a package. You get the Army, I get...I don't know, Cambridge or Harvard or--the point is, I have to get in, and I take a full courseload every semester, and I keep a 3.8 or better, and I spend summers interning at the company.

Grandfather likes discipline and service. You'd be doing it in the army, I'd be proving it in academia.

[He shakes his head]

He still won't let me go. What am I supposed to say? I don't have the grades for West Point.

Edited 2013-02-17 06:25 (UTC)

I suppose flagrant bribery would be frowned upon there, wouldn't it.

I don't think they take bribes, no.

[She pokes moodily at her drink, one red-painted nail over the end of the straw.]

Sometimes I think if the wedding hadn't--

[Pause.]

...I don't know why they think I can't do it on my own, Stevie.

You'll never be on your own, anyway.

[As if Steve wouldn't be there with her]

They want to protect you. I want to protect you, too. But I know that this isn't something that you need protection from.

I don't think they'll let you stuff me in a duffel bag and take me into the barracks with you.

Grandmother doesn't want me to be a tough corporate slugger, I know. But company politics can't possibly be more cutthroat than high school.

I could try.

To stuff me in a duffel bag?

Sure. It can't be that hard.

I think my shoes would punch through the...what are they made of, anyway? Canvas? Rayon? It doesn't matter, these are stilettos.

(no subject)

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