[tmw] 11.1 - who will you always turn to?
NOTE: Sal is we_standalone and is used with love and knowledge of his mun.
“I hate men.” Channing spat the second the door opened.
“Course…so naturally, you haul ass to Testosterone Central.”
“Eat me.” She snarled, stalking straight past Sal and into the rundown house he shared with his bandmates. The ramshackle two story abode just off the Strip was a rental procured by their guitarist, Mays Ryder, shortly after Control Freak had taken off. Their initial rise had caused some pressure and undue tension, and the well worn home shared by all four men gave them enough anonymity to preserve their sanity.
“See? Knew you’d change yer mind ‘bout me…”
Stopping when she reached the kitchen, Channing scowled at her surroundings. The house was comfortable, but also, as Sal said, unquestionably male. Austere, sparsely decorated, riding a fine line between lived in and messy, it was a typical bachelor pad. Particularly in the kitchen, which looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Restlessly, she started straightening up to give her hands something to do that wasn’t strangling an innocent man.
“You’re an insufferable pig.”
“True…but not as bad as this guy. What’s his name again, I forget…”
“Tyson Howard!” she snapped, dimly aware through her rage that he was drawing her out and not caring. “The son of a bitch that calls himself an animal handler…it’s bullshit. He’s a thief and a liar!!”
“Handler…he didn’t hurt Chaz, did he?”
The note of real anger in Sal’s voice brought Channing a little closer towards sanity as she whirled around to face him and shook her head. “No, he didn’t…but Charleston bit him because he didn’t goddamn listen to me when I told him that Charlie got nervous around the lights, and now he’s insisting on replacing him…”
“Okay, hold up and sit down. Ya lost me at Chaz’s cue.”
With an irritable huff, Channing slid onto the nearest kitchen stool she could find and started explaining the whole miserable mess with the new handler, who insisted that cats could be dealt with only one way and ignored every one of the warning signs when Channing changed two light cues and Howard made no effort to show Charleston where the lights would go.
“…now I’m just as concerned with time as anyone,” she finally finished, half-slumped against the counter with a cup of coffee she didn’t remember receiving, “but we would have lost twenty minutes warning Charlie about the lights. Twenty minutes I even penciled into the rehearsal. Let him play with a flashlight, show him how the lights would move, and he’d have been fine. He’s very smart that way. Truly, Sal, he is…”
Trailing off, she resisted the hot sting of tears that came as Sal slid off his own stool and moved to embrace her warmly. She didn’t move for a second, then relented and wrapped her arms around him, letting his body heat and solid build soothe her for just an instant.
“You got it covered.” he murmured, running a hand over her hair. “Chaz is a hell of a cat, and I think everyone who’s ever met the little shit knows it. Just call the asshole on his bullshit and the bigwigs’ll be on your side. Not his.”
Sniffling a little as she drew away, Channing carefully dabbed at her eyes. “I did…they’re taking our comments under advisement. Hmph.” She paused, then met his gaze with a sigh. “I’m acting like a first class idiot, aren’t I?”
“Nah…just acting like a chick. Which is good, seein’ as how you are one.”
Laughing, Channing finished the last of her coffee and stood, hugging Sal once again. “You know, for a Chi-Town street rat, you’re really quite the gentleman.”
“Thanks…for a stuck up New Yorker, you’re a pretty cool customer.”
“High praise from my biggest fan.” She grinned, leaning up to kiss his cheek in a friendly manner. “Will you boys save me a seat at the show tonight? I’d stay, but I have a production meeting to get back to.”
“Always, Chan. Take care yerself…and don’t worry, ai’ight?”
With a smile, she nodded and turned to walk out. As she did, she got the same feeling she always did, that he was watching her leave. The feel of his eyes on her back was heavy, warm...wanting…
She pushed aside the notion that he was watching her, as she always did…and waited until she was out of sight by the front door before she turned, looking over her shoulder and swearing to herself that she wasn’t hoping to find him ready to stop her from leaving.
Muse: Channing Vale
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 766
{tell me your hopes and dreams...}
“I hate men.” Channing spat the second the door opened.
“Course…so naturally, you haul ass to Testosterone Central.”
“Eat me.” She snarled, stalking straight past Sal and into the rundown house he shared with his bandmates. The ramshackle two story abode just off the Strip was a rental procured by their guitarist, Mays Ryder, shortly after Control Freak had taken off. Their initial rise had caused some pressure and undue tension, and the well worn home shared by all four men gave them enough anonymity to preserve their sanity.
“See? Knew you’d change yer mind ‘bout me…”
Stopping when she reached the kitchen, Channing scowled at her surroundings. The house was comfortable, but also, as Sal said, unquestionably male. Austere, sparsely decorated, riding a fine line between lived in and messy, it was a typical bachelor pad. Particularly in the kitchen, which looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Restlessly, she started straightening up to give her hands something to do that wasn’t strangling an innocent man.
“You’re an insufferable pig.”
“True…but not as bad as this guy. What’s his name again, I forget…”
“Tyson Howard!” she snapped, dimly aware through her rage that he was drawing her out and not caring. “The son of a bitch that calls himself an animal handler…it’s bullshit. He’s a thief and a liar!!”
“Handler…he didn’t hurt Chaz, did he?”
The note of real anger in Sal’s voice brought Channing a little closer towards sanity as she whirled around to face him and shook her head. “No, he didn’t…but Charleston bit him because he didn’t goddamn listen to me when I told him that Charlie got nervous around the lights, and now he’s insisting on replacing him…”
“Okay, hold up and sit down. Ya lost me at Chaz’s cue.”
With an irritable huff, Channing slid onto the nearest kitchen stool she could find and started explaining the whole miserable mess with the new handler, who insisted that cats could be dealt with only one way and ignored every one of the warning signs when Channing changed two light cues and Howard made no effort to show Charleston where the lights would go.
“…now I’m just as concerned with time as anyone,” she finally finished, half-slumped against the counter with a cup of coffee she didn’t remember receiving, “but we would have lost twenty minutes warning Charlie about the lights. Twenty minutes I even penciled into the rehearsal. Let him play with a flashlight, show him how the lights would move, and he’d have been fine. He’s very smart that way. Truly, Sal, he is…”
Trailing off, she resisted the hot sting of tears that came as Sal slid off his own stool and moved to embrace her warmly. She didn’t move for a second, then relented and wrapped her arms around him, letting his body heat and solid build soothe her for just an instant.
“You got it covered.” he murmured, running a hand over her hair. “Chaz is a hell of a cat, and I think everyone who’s ever met the little shit knows it. Just call the asshole on his bullshit and the bigwigs’ll be on your side. Not his.”
Sniffling a little as she drew away, Channing carefully dabbed at her eyes. “I did…they’re taking our comments under advisement. Hmph.” She paused, then met his gaze with a sigh. “I’m acting like a first class idiot, aren’t I?”
“Nah…just acting like a chick. Which is good, seein’ as how you are one.”
Laughing, Channing finished the last of her coffee and stood, hugging Sal once again. “You know, for a Chi-Town street rat, you’re really quite the gentleman.”
“Thanks…for a stuck up New Yorker, you’re a pretty cool customer.”
“High praise from my biggest fan.” She grinned, leaning up to kiss his cheek in a friendly manner. “Will you boys save me a seat at the show tonight? I’d stay, but I have a production meeting to get back to.”
“Always, Chan. Take care yerself…and don’t worry, ai’ight?”
With a smile, she nodded and turned to walk out. As she did, she got the same feeling she always did, that he was watching her leave. The feel of his eyes on her back was heavy, warm...wanting…
She pushed aside the notion that he was watching her, as she always did…and waited until she was out of sight by the front door before she turned, looking over her shoulder and swearing to herself that she wasn’t hoping to find him ready to stop her from leaving.
Muse: Channing Vale
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 766
{tell me your hopes and dreams...}