goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

Okay so the other guard probably shouldn't have tried to make that jump but to be fair- not his fault! Parkour is just a thing he does and he was careful to stay in the same building there was no need for them to jump after him and- yeah. So he feels bad and he's sent flowers and some money for the hospital bills because it was kind of his fault. Sort of. A little.

Dude he has to keep his figure somehow.

So. New Guard because 'creepy letters are a thing to be worried about York' and 'remember your eye york' and 'No stop please my blood pressure york' are a thing. He worries about D sometimes. He should send him on vacation when this wraps up. He pops the door open and double takes at the woman there. "Um. Hi. Modeling agency is actually-"

He leans out to point further down the hall. "Two, three rooms down I think?"

"And if you believe they're actually an agency of any sort of worth, you can go back and sign on with them yourself." Her words are accompanied by a disbelieving snort, flipping the file closed. Then her lips purse as she regards the stranger.

Or, rather, the familiar shadow at his back. Before rising to her feet. If Delta is here, then.. "So you must be Murray."

"Well I tried but then D kinda made a face that means he needs another antiacid so...I didn't." A beat. "yet. It's in the air."

Because he looks good enough to be on magazines right? right. Supplement that income. He cracks a wide smile and steps back, if she's supposed to be here D will say something. If not- well she's pretty. "The big T, that's me."

"It will remain 'yet' until after tonight," is the firm voice behind him, before Delta joins them, extending a hand immediately to the redhead, who remains looking pretty unimpressed by 'Big T'. "Thank you for coming."

"You'll owe me," she says simply, shaking it. "So how long have these incidents your reports mentioned been escalating for? And what, exactly," green eyes fix on Taylor, "did you do?"

"Come oooon, a few photoshoots, a weekend or two in Venice, it'd be extra money! And Publicity. You always say you want me to do more 'positive' PR, right?" Though how positive it'd be depended on the photographer and a bunch of other stuff he couldn't be bothered to keep track of, really.

He flips the door closed and leans back against it, looking from Delta to Carolina and back again. "Um. You're gonna have to elaborate on 'incidents' and 'what did I do' since both are kind of..."

He shrugs. "Nonspecific. There have been many incidents and I've done a lot."

She looks from Delta to Taylor, then back again, ignoring the babble about photoshoots abroad. She's traveled before, the novelty of such having worn off years ago, but there's an almost incredulous widening of her eyes as she puts two and two together. Either he simply wasn't taking any warnings seriously, or...

..Oh god. Delta hadn't told him. The thinning line of his lips and stiff posture all but confirmed it. "Should I be asking what you haven't done, then?" She replies offhandedly, before turning a glare on him. She could still work with this.

"What made you choose Errera for your final venue?"

"It'd be a shorter list, yeah." He shrugs and looks from D to Carolina, trying to place whatever the whatever is between them. It's not just employer and employee, there is something going on here.

"Sentimental Value." he'd met- okay well he'd SEEN this girl here while he was flicking a lighter backstage before his first show when he wasn't sure if this was gonna work and she'd been jamming to the preshow music that was still something he put together and she'd been so damn HAPPY. It kind of helped him get his act together and put on a good show. Worked out pretty well. "Did my first real performance here."

It's not romantic, that much he might be able to tell. There's formality here, with an odd undercurrent of affection. Rare enough in Delta to begin with. She pats his arm lightly, which makes him relax. She'll do it. She'd said she would, hadn't she? And maybe it wouldn't be as bad as D was worried about...

She knows Ererra - not as well as she once did, but it hadn't changed that much. And she'd seen quite a few bands play in that time. "Huh. And you've been in the business how long now?"

"Five- no. Eight? Delta help." Numbers and York don't get along lately. Something about concussive blasts and head injuries but that's what he's got Delta for. Sure some things aren't as clear as they used to be but he can still perform, still have fun, still make people happy. That's all he really needs.

Okay and beer but. Beer. Come on.

"I think around eightish years?"

"Seven," is the correction, even as Delta moves around the table to collect some papers. Things to sign formalizing a one-night-only contract.

"That's a while," Carolina comments offhand, before shaking her head. "Well, you've got D supporting you, so that means you must be good. And with any luck, tonight won't be the end of that seven year streak."

She extends a hand, business-like. "Carolina. I suppose I'll be your bodyguard for this evening."

"Seven." He nods. Right. Why'd he think it was eight? Must've been clubbing here eight years ago, nothing else is really sticking. It's a good thing he's got D to keep the numbers part of the business straight. Being on stage and being charming in person, that he can do. Balance a checkbook? Not so much.

"Really? I mean- you obviously are good if D's called you but I still don't think I need more than just the usual security around the stage tonight. Like you're here you're paid and i'm glad but I still don't see what the fuss is about?" He takes the hand as offered all the same, squeezing.

"It'll be my job to ensure there's no fuss tto distract you," she replies firmly, returning the squeeze - not too hard. But hard enough that he knows she means business. Don't test her grip if you don't can't deal with being tested back.

"I'll see you at the rehersal." Perhaps D's concerns were unfounded - but she didn't think so.

And as long as things went off without a hitch....they could worry about telling him, properly, about things during his 'hiatus'.

Okay wow, that's a strong grip. Rather than distressing York it just- makes him that much more interested. "Is something happening that I don't know about?"

D knows how he feels about flying blind. In that he hates it. And he hates shit being kept from him.

"...We're not gonna get flash mobbed again, are we? Not that it wasn't fun but, um. Kind of hard to control the crowd."

"The point of employing me is to ensure that things don't happen, period. And if they do, you don't need to know about it until it's done." Her head shakes at the mention of flash mobs, however.

"You have your own job to worry about on stage." Dropping his hand, she nods to Delta. "See you there in a few hours, then. I'll sign the paperwork at the club." She doesn't need to see it. She trusts Delta not to screw her over in the fine details.

"...That's a little unsettling." But. Okay, whatever, he needs to get dressed and get into makeup and glitter, really? Really. But it's what D has on the docket and if D says it goes, it goes.

So. Clothes. Hair. Makeup. Guitar cuz he does play (a little he doesn't wanna upstage the band or the dancers), Mic on his ear and ready to bust up on stage like a freightrain but-

Is the smoke supposed to smell a little like ether? That's. WEird.

The club is, relatively, secure by the time that the last parts of concert setup is underway. Carolina, for her part, has been prowling all the access points, beefing it up around the upper floors where people might try something stupid.

There's still time for warm ups before the crowds can be allowed in, but the release of smoke on the stage gives her pause. She's been over the routine, knows which numbers are meant to have what, and that's going off way too early.

She shifts her course, taking an indirect route towards the stage.

Yeah that's- way. Way too sweet a smell. He stumbles a little and leans against the support strut for the platform that's supposed to push him forward on stage and covers his mouth, coughing. What the hell is this- "Jerry cut the smoke! I can't breathe, man-"

Jerry, for his part, looks panicked. "It won't shut off!"

Which really is all that Carolina needs to hear. Vaulting the flimsy barrier erected around the edge of the stage, she inhales deeply before vaulting up onto the stage. She's dragging a handkerchief from her pocket as she does so, covering her own mouth as she moves towards York.

"This way," her words are sharp as she reaches for his arm. She'll drag him bodily if she has to.

It's gone from 'can't breathe' to 'really sleepy' in half a second and York is swaying on his feet by the time she gets to him- trying and failing to walk alongside her. It's not easy. Why isn't it easy? Why do his bones feel like jelly? Did someone DRUG his stage smoke? What the fuck?

That he's gone so weak in so short a time is a bad sign, and Carolina's eyes narrow as he sags into him. Her eyes cast about, trying to spot something unusual, something--someone--out of place here.

Then she's half ducking and catching York up, pulling him into a fireman's carry. It means that she can't hold the cloth in place, and holding your breath is hard when attempting this, but she needs to get him offstage. Now.

Can't breathe can't hardly walk and it's moritfying as it is distressing that this is happening in the first place. Out behind where Jerry is trying and failing to shut off the smoke machine there's- someone? In a mask. That isn't a backup dancer.

Whoever was in charge of venu security is so damn FIRED.

The mask registers in the back of her mind, filed to one side as Carolina staggers off the stage with York. Getting him back, getting him clear of the smoke - and where has everyone else disappeared to? Evacuated already?

"Here," she coughs, pressing the cloth she'd been using into York's hand, hoping he can keep a grip on it. "Cover your mouth. I've got you."

And she'll keep carrying him until they hit one of the side exits - though she does stagger against the wall, trying not to fall or drop him. She couldn't completely escape whatever drug was in the smoke, and her own muscles are beginning to protest. "Water. Now!" is barked at one of the roadies, who promptly disappears to fetch.

Evacuated and scattered. Someone was mentioning technical difficulties and no one knew why he wasn't on stage yet, the opening act was probably still in the green room and all these little things were floating in the back of his mind as he tried to breathe, tried to keep his fingers around the handkerchief she'd pressed into his fingers. He manages. Somehow.

Just the one figure in a mask that seemed to be trying to follow them. It wasn't a stage hand, wasn't a dancer, and wasn't someone that should be back there.

Landing wasn't easy but it didn't need to be- he sags against the wall, sucking in clear air and trying to blink the blur from his eyes. "Not- not suppost'da-"

For the moment, under the overhang that lead down one of the exit corridors and out into a dark alley, keeping him somewhat upright was more important than immediately checking her six; Who knew what kind of injury he could do to himself by falling, hitting his head?

Only once he's breathing through the cloth, somewhat steady if slurring, does she try and steady her own breathing. Then turn slowly, at the sound of someone else's approach, already high on alert.

Masked figure gett'n real close for his sense of comfort. He shoves himself against the wall, behind Carolina- she's his bodyguard, she saved his ass, he's pretty sure she will continue to save his ass and this guy-girl-whatever could suck it. Delta was also gonna get some WORDS later. What the hell is this?

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