Her bare feet twitched as they touched the cold concrete before beginning to fumble about for her slippers. A restless night's sleep and now cold toes? Could it get any worse? Yes, it could. She could still be living with her parents instead of out on her own. The re-purposed and refurbished warehouse wasn't so bad. She just needed to get used to it. She'd only lived here a week so far. It just took time to adjust. There had been many changes in her life recently. She'd just turned twenty three, her boyfriend of eight years had just dumped her for a leggy stage actress, her grandmother had passed away and left her a butt-load of cash, and she'd moved from the middle of nowhere to New York City. Things could definitely get worse, but instead they were getting better. Her toes finally found purchase in the plushy softness of her slippers and she yawned as she rose from the queen sized bed. Her new apartment was a loft style place in an old converted warehouse in Lower Manhattan.
She trudged down the stairs to the kitchen and set some tea to steep before shambling toward the bathroom. Her parents wouldn't believe it was their little girl who stared out of the mirror. Her shoulder length ginger hair was dyed candy apple red from the roots to about two inches from the end. She slipped on her chunky black framed glasses and stared at her blue eyed reflection. Based on apperance, she could see why her boyfriend left her. She wasn't anything special. There were curves to her figure, but not much. She wasn't gangly or curvy or a stick figure. She was just petite. Standing a measly five foot two, her body matched her size. She was small everywhere. After scrunching her face this way and that in the mirror, she finally gave herself up as average and continued with her morning. A breakfast of white tea, soft boiled eggs, toast, and Greek yogurt was followed by a quick shower. She slipped on a pair of black leggings that were more holes than fabric, followed by a net mini skirt and a white crop top. After braiding her hair, she added a red and black striped tie and her favorite cadet cap. A few choice pieces of jewelry and securely tied knee high Converse shoes finished the ensemble. Then she grabbed her backpack and camera before leaving.
Shortly after boarding the subway and on commute to work, her phone began to ring. 'Unsatisfied' by The Replacements began blaring through the subway car. Digging in her backpack, she found her phone and answered quickly. "Harley Quinnet, New York Sun." Her voice was soft yet clear. She listened for a moment before speaking again. "Yes boss, I'm on my way. I'll be there in about ten minutes." After listening a moment more she hung up and slipped the phone back in her bag. Harley Quinnet, or just Quinn to most of her friends, had been a journalistic photographer all through high school. Now she worked for the New York Sun, taking pictures of whatever, where ever, and whenever her boss told her to. Today it was going to be a performing arts affair in Central Park.
After arriving at work and grabbing her press badge from her office, Harley hightailed it to the park. If something was going down and she was getting paid to photograph it, she didn't want to miss anything. Her backpack thumped against her as she ran down one of the paths in the park. She had gotten directions to the event from a nearby bike cop. The performance was due to start in just a few minutes and if her luck held out, Quinn would make it just in time.
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JELDare.... message me what you're interested in and we'll talk...
DMZ.... Depends on the type of fantasy. Are we talking more olden times, "Lord of the Rings" style? More modern, "Harry Potter" style? Or more futuristic, "Avatar" style?
DMZ.... Depends on the type of fantasy. Are we talking more olden times, "Lord of the Rings" style? More modern, "Harry Potter" style? Or more futuristic, "Avatar" style?
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It was a dark Saturday night and the music was pumping. Ember Martin worked the small bar at the back of Elysium. It was one of the hottest nightclubs of Austin, Texas, and Ember was the best they had. An ex-coyote of the Coyote Ugly bar, Ember was everything to the owners of Elysium. She had all the moves and the attitude to boot.
The music of the DJ throbbed through Ember as she worked the bar that night. Black light streaks of pink, green, and blue ran through her naturally fire red hair. The long silken strands were pulled back into a pony tail before being snake braided, reaching her lower back. Her simple outfit of a black leather bustier and matching pants were painted over with tribal designs in the black light paints. Emerald eyes flashed hard in the strobe light that lit the dance floor.
Ember worked her magic at the bar while watching the others dance. She poured drink after drink without a single slip up. Her skill and reputation as a Coyote had brought Elysium more and more devoted customers. Some came for the music of course, but on Saturday nights, most came for Ember. It wasn't just her skill as a bartender that kept people coming of course. Everyone, including Ember herself, knew she was nothing short of stunning. She was tall and thin, with a well endowed chest. About the only thing keeping her single when surrounded by the best Austin had to offer was her attitude.
Ember wasn't her name merely for the color of her hair. The sting of her words would leave a burn mark on your soul if you got her temper hot enough. She was definitely a firecracker when she wanted to be. Spark her just right and she would explode in your face, leaving you scared for life.
"Hey Firefly! Give me a rum and coke will ya?!" the shout came from straight in front of her and she still barely heard it.
"Ain't got rum and don't serve coke here." Ember bit back, taking a swig of a beer.
"What do you have then?"
"Jim, Jack, Johnny Red, Johnny Black, and Jose; all my favorite men. You can have it any way you like it, as long as it comes in a shot glass." Ember slammed the shot glass down on the counter with a smug look before watching the guy walk away. "Bozo." she muttered quietly before continuing on with her work.
The music of the DJ throbbed through Ember as she worked the bar that night. Black light streaks of pink, green, and blue ran through her naturally fire red hair. The long silken strands were pulled back into a pony tail before being snake braided, reaching her lower back. Her simple outfit of a black leather bustier and matching pants were painted over with tribal designs in the black light paints. Emerald eyes flashed hard in the strobe light that lit the dance floor.
Ember worked her magic at the bar while watching the others dance. She poured drink after drink without a single slip up. Her skill and reputation as a Coyote had brought Elysium more and more devoted customers. Some came for the music of course, but on Saturday nights, most came for Ember. It wasn't just her skill as a bartender that kept people coming of course. Everyone, including Ember herself, knew she was nothing short of stunning. She was tall and thin, with a well endowed chest. About the only thing keeping her single when surrounded by the best Austin had to offer was her attitude.
Ember wasn't her name merely for the color of her hair. The sting of her words would leave a burn mark on your soul if you got her temper hot enough. She was definitely a firecracker when she wanted to be. Spark her just right and she would explode in your face, leaving you scared for life.
"Hey Firefly! Give me a rum and coke will ya?!" the shout came from straight in front of her and she still barely heard it.
"Ain't got rum and don't serve coke here." Ember bit back, taking a swig of a beer.
"What do you have then?"
"Jim, Jack, Johnny Red, Johnny Black, and Jose; all my favorite men. You can have it any way you like it, as long as it comes in a shot glass." Ember slammed the shot glass down on the counter with a smug look before watching the guy walk away. "Bozo." she muttered quietly before continuing on with her work.
Name: Ember Lea Martin
Nickname: Firefly
Age: 25
Appearance:
Current City: Austin, TX
Lives at: The Social Apartments
Hometown: Stillwater, OK
Nickname: Firefly
Age: 25
Appearance:
Current City: Austin, TX
Lives at: The Social Apartments
Hometown: Stillwater, OK
Harley shook her head and stared into her now empty cup of tea. "I'm no one special. And my name is never more than a footnote in the news. I'm a nobody in art and in the papers. You'd have better luck going to one of the galleries around town and finding a real artist. That is the kind of interview you need." She sighed sadly and looked out the window. She was lost deep in her own thoughts. It didn't matter how this one stranger saw her. To the rest of the world, she was invisible. She had never sold a single photo, so how could anyone think she was any good?
Harley nearly choked on the sip of tea she had just taken. After coughing and spluttering for a moment, she looked at the man across from her incredulously. "You want to interview me? Why? I'm no one special. I'm not even a real artist, just a photo journalist for a newspaper." she stated flatly. He had to be joking. There were hundreds of real artists all over the city. Why would anyone care about the thoughts of a measly little photographer like her? It didn't make any sense at all.
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