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Characters: Mandy Slade and Arthur Stuart
Summary: A fanboy and one of his idols get wasted and talk about their various escapades in the glam rock scene.
Date(s): Sometime shortly after this
Warnings/Notes: Very likely a fair bit of swearing and talk of sex and drugs. Possibly a few less than PC terms since they both came out in the 60s and 70s If anything else comes up I'll update.
There were still a staggering number of things about this place Mandy didn't have a firm grasp on--including but not limited to the strange thing that looked a great deal like a Siamese cat that followed her about, but that talked and projected something like a keyboard and reminded her of far too much cheesy scifi.
But bars? Bars she understood no matter the time and place they were in. While she might not have liked the reason she spent so much time in them before coming here, they were still the sort of place where she could be...well, as close to herself as she had been in quite a long time, whoever that person was. And while she'd certainly been asked out for a drink since leaving Brian, aside from Curt and a small number of others who were now mostly gone in one way or another it hadn't been anything properly friendly. And maybe Arthur wasn't a friend in the way Curt was, but who in the entire bloody universe could be? She knew Brian had left a whole trail of broken hearts in his wake, but the two of them had experienced something uniquely awful.
Arthur had been rather sweet though, and while seeing him now made her see the man she'd spoken to both weeks ago and a decade in the future in an entirely different light that wasn't especially gentle, he hadn't been insulting then and was doing far better than she would have expected of any fan back then in actually treating her like a person instead of an idea now. So, drinks with him didn't even come close to getting onto her list of bad choices. She'd even bothered to pull out the few cosmetics she had with her, tempering a bit of her pallor that had changed from brilliant to sickly at some point in the last decade with lips that thankfully didn't make her look like a clown and pulling out a faded silk scarf with some indeterminate pink or maybe purple and red pattern to it that she'd found to contrast with what might be able to pass for a little black dress.
Leaving the drink and music selections up to...the computer or whatever bloody thing was at work here did seem like a decidedly bad choice, so for the first time in what felt like far too damn long, Mandy took immediate charge of the situation to at least get one sorted out, slipping behind the bar with an actually genuine smile.
"So darling, what's your poison?"
Summary: A fanboy and one of his idols get wasted and talk about their various escapades in the glam rock scene.
Date(s): Sometime shortly after this
Warnings/Notes: Very likely a fair bit of swearing and talk of sex and drugs. Possibly a few less than PC terms since they both came out in the 60s and 70s If anything else comes up I'll update.
There were still a staggering number of things about this place Mandy didn't have a firm grasp on--including but not limited to the strange thing that looked a great deal like a Siamese cat that followed her about, but that talked and projected something like a keyboard and reminded her of far too much cheesy scifi.
But bars? Bars she understood no matter the time and place they were in. While she might not have liked the reason she spent so much time in them before coming here, they were still the sort of place where she could be...well, as close to herself as she had been in quite a long time, whoever that person was. And while she'd certainly been asked out for a drink since leaving Brian, aside from Curt and a small number of others who were now mostly gone in one way or another it hadn't been anything properly friendly. And maybe Arthur wasn't a friend in the way Curt was, but who in the entire bloody universe could be? She knew Brian had left a whole trail of broken hearts in his wake, but the two of them had experienced something uniquely awful.
Arthur had been rather sweet though, and while seeing him now made her see the man she'd spoken to both weeks ago and a decade in the future in an entirely different light that wasn't especially gentle, he hadn't been insulting then and was doing far better than she would have expected of any fan back then in actually treating her like a person instead of an idea now. So, drinks with him didn't even come close to getting onto her list of bad choices. She'd even bothered to pull out the few cosmetics she had with her, tempering a bit of her pallor that had changed from brilliant to sickly at some point in the last decade with lips that thankfully didn't make her look like a clown and pulling out a faded silk scarf with some indeterminate pink or maybe purple and red pattern to it that she'd found to contrast with what might be able to pass for a little black dress.
Leaving the drink and music selections up to...the computer or whatever bloody thing was at work here did seem like a decidedly bad choice, so for the first time in what felt like far too damn long, Mandy took immediate charge of the situation to at least get one sorted out, slipping behind the bar with an actually genuine smile.
"So darling, what's your poison?"