[You call the office of Lesedi Santiago. You’re almost certainly going to get her receptionist – the amount of calls this woman gets in a day must be enormous. The voice on the other side of the phone seems to change at least once every 6-8 weeks. The position is like a revolving door. ]
Pride Records. Office of Lesedi Santiago.
[Whether or not Miss Santiago will get back to you is a toss up – but for now, you can leave a message with her assistant.]
[You send an email to lesedi@priderecords.prc. You know for a fact that she’s not the one that ends up reading most of them – they go through a ring of assistants, first. There is a chance you’ll actually hear back from her specifically, but it’s best to be discreet.]
[This is the VIP phone number that leads straight to Lesedi’s cell. (You do not have this phone number unless you are given it in gameplay.) However, all Managers will have this number. (And will not give it to players.)
But this does mean that you can use this area to have your Manager report to Lesedi about your band’s activities. It also means that you can contact Lesedi directly if she likes you enough to give you this number. Use your power wisely.
She will also accept texts.]
> Artolo: throw caution into the wind and into a tank of sharks
TO: lesedi@priderecords.prc FROM: thornydouchebag@priderecords.prc SUBJECT: LOGO
So I was explaining to someone how Pride and our image works, when I realized there was a motto we could really use. Add it to the logo for you, hope you like it.
[There's an attachment. And yes, there is gleeful glitter text in a horrific yellow with the words "be the best trainwreck you can be".]
[It's really hard to get their personal numbers or emails, but you can send messages or calls to their group band addresses no problem. Not sure why you'd want to, however.]
[ Well. Score. Now what, though. If he just asks her about Koumei, she probably won't respond. ]
TO: lesedi@priderecords.prc FROM: s.squalo@priderecords.prc SUBJECT: RE: RE: YOUR GHOST FRIENDS
Oh, you know. People who should be dead conspiring using idiots who still don't know any better. You sure you want to have this conversation over email?
TO: lesedi@priderecords.prc FROM: s.squalo@priderecords.prc SUBJECT: RE: YOUR GHOST FRIENDS
And I thought I could tell you over late dinner. I can guarantee it wouldn't be a waste of your time.
[ w...hen in doubt, hit on your homicidal, omnipowerful superior? ]
[ he could, theoretically, throw some other bands under the bus, but ]
Garcia, the bartender on the first floor, is giving out flyers to new musicians. It says "Remember January 30th". When I asked what the fuck it was about, a valve flew right off a soda machine and hit me, but nobody was there. Don't tell me that's a new feature you had installed.
A few minutes later, Squalo will find himself abruptly teleported into Lesedi's office, right in front of her desk. She is leaning forward over tented fingers, looking very annoyed and impatient.]
When and where did this happen? Exactly - and I do mean exactly.
[ He still VOIs loudly and possibly falls on his ass as his surroundings suddenly change and whatever comfy thing he was sitting on disappears from under him. ]
Holy shit! I mean. Good afternoon, Miss.
[ It's one thing to hear about this, another to actually live it. But he's been in deadly business long enough not to make her ask twice. He does straighten up first, though. ]
Eleven days ago. "Lion Lounge", between the rec room #7 and the choreography practice area. [ He manages a half-smirk, though it's a bit twitchy, and raises a hand to the back of his head. ] Still got the bruise if you wanna feel it.
Not the first time I see things flying around here.
[ Also he's heard some things from the people who had gone missing on the very day he used for his fake story. Hey, just because he hadn't participated in the thing doesn't mean he's deaf and blind. ]
At least last time they talked instead of braining me with a fucking valve.
[ Of course we're back to him. Brainwashing overlords can't stop this vanity. ]
[ Alright. This is what he stirred all this charade for. No backing out now. He clears his throat, looking nervous, but not exactly scared, and looks right at her, intent as if trying to see into her mind. ]
Thought it'd get your attention. And hey, I was right. [ His tone's non-confrontational, almost calm for once. ] You did get pretty mad about it back then, didn't you?
[ He's pretty sure people don't break someone's joints for fun if there's no personal stake to it, but hey, he could be wrong. ]
[Suddenly, she's on the other side of the desk, and she's grabbing his neck - effortlessly lifting him just enough to make him have to stand on his tip toes.]
If you think for a second that you can play games with me and get away with it - I'll show you where your sack of shit friend is by making sure you join him!
[ Well, shit. He's too hot to die! He forces down the urge to fight back, pretty sure that would only make things worse for him, but hopefully she didn't expect to make him cry and stutter because that's not happening. ]
So not fired, I take it.
[ There's the briefest baring of his teeth, something between a pained grimace from her grip, and... a smirk. ]
Shit, you're beautiful when you're angry.
[ IS HE OKAY IN THE HEAD? ]
[ DEFINITELY NOT. But look on the bright side, maybe he lost it out of fear or something. ]
[ His back collides with it painfully and he slides down with a grunt. He'll probably end up either on the window pane or the floor. Damn, it's a long way down. Thank fuck for sturdy glass? ]
April Fool's?
[ YES SQUALO I'M SURE SHE'S FEELING VERY HUMOROUS RIGHT NOW ]
Well, not the last part. [ important distinction. he does have a thing for people that can make him evaporate at the force of will. ] Do I get an answer?
Her eyes flash like lightning, and suddenly he's being lifted, as if in a field of static. It prickles his skin as he's lifted off the ground, and promptly thrown in the general direction of her book case.]
You'll get my foot up your ass you smug sack of shit!
[ But does his hair stand up from it because it probably looks pretty funny at least. ]
[ He grits his teeth in anticipation this time, but there's still a pained sound when he hits the hard surface, several books probably falling on top of him. ]
[ He opens his mouth to say that it's definitely not his kink, but realizes that maybe, maybe that's not the best idea right now. ]
Not... necessary. You're making a point.
[ ...as close to an apology as it'll get, probably. ]
[Lesedi's cellphone rings. For a moment she looks like she's going to ignore it and carry on, but then she whips it out practically yelling into the phone as she answers:]
What?!
[There's a pause as she listens to whoever is on the other side - she relaxes just a fraction.]
Cass - no! You would not believe the shit I am putting up with today. It is absolutely insane.
[She strides over and gives Squalo one last kick - not as hard as she could - and keeps talking on the phone.]
[Luci isn't sure if it's better to suffer the instant teleportation Lesedi tends to inflict on her, or willingly showing up when called on the phone. This particular instance, Luci had been in the middle of eating peanut butter right out of the jar with a spoon, so it's six of one and a half dozen of another concerning the indignity.]
[Things have gotten a little less rough since that first time after what happened with Yuffie and Tooru and everyone else involved in whatever had made Lesedi so angry, and while Luci can't exactly say she's thrilled to have her life interrupted for immediate sex whether she wants it or not, things could be worse. She could be nursing worse wounds than just walking funny for a day.]
So-- [Luci rolls over and drags her jacket over, looking for a cigarette.] --did you hear anything about the flatbed truck thing we did?
[Hey, more and more often, Lesedi is actually talking to her after these things. It's as good a topic as any, and Luci's actually curious if any of their antics actually makes it up this far. If not, well, good story material.]
[Lesedi seems blessed with the ability to act without any kind of self awareness what so ever, and so Luci's enthusiasm or lack there of never seems to make much difference to her. Nor does the dip into casual conversation after whatever the hell went on between them that particular night.]
Which truck thing would that be?
[She's only half listening, and that much is obvious.]
[Aw, that's too bad. Well, the Carnival is still fairly low on the totem pole she supposes.]
We did a show on the back of a moving flatbed and and the audience drive behind us to watch. It's how we pulled Ace in. [She pulls a cigarette out of her jacket and a lighter.] You want one?
SORRY THIS IS SO LATE I will tag it properly if you want to now.
[Lesedi has a lot of things going around in her head at any given moment - at the very least, acknowledging that she is aware of it would imply more personal interest then she usually shows off easily. Still, she'll take the cigarette, though.]
Sure.
[She whistles softly, and the cigarette lights without need of a lighter.]
I could smoke at least two dozen of these tonight.
[Huh. Well, you don't see that everyday. Vaguely Luci wonders if the snapping-fire-thing is somehow an inferior version of what Lesedi just did, but she doesn't linger on the thought too long.]
Yeah? How come?
[This is how it goes, of course. Lesedi acts as though Luci didn't say a word about the performance and starts venting.]
That idiot Squalo tried pulling one over on me earlier! I can't believe the gall of that bastard. I had to throw him into that book case over there before he learned his fucking lesson.
[She helpfully points to the book case in question, which looks fine, while Squalo is probably not.]
...Squalo? [Luci looks floored, but after a beat she can't say she's totally unsurprised. He had an incredibly hard head, and he could be truly idiotic when he thought he had something to gain. In this case, apparently, it was gambling with Lesedi Santiago.]
[Luci feels a brief flash of fury, and thoughts of punishment for calling out bullshit leave a bad taste in her mouth. But those quiet down very quickly, not just because she's naked in Lesedi's bed but... something else tells her to be quiet.]
I'm surprised, he can be thick-headed and can say some stupid shit. Why did you make an exception?
TO: lesedi@priderecords.prc FROM: thornydouchebag@priderecords.prc SUBJECT: lmao look at this shit
You know what we should do? Take a selfie in front of this mess and make the worst faces. Put it on twitter, throw some shade. I mean what are they going to do???
Maybe we can get drinks after, or just skip to getting shitfaced in celebration of being better than everyone else?? lmk so that I can clear up my schedule for vomiting out a balcony onto someone's expensive car. Already did my set.
[Attached is a picture of a Virgo decorated ad truck of some sort on the streets of Berlin, along with what is clearly Artolo's hand flipping it off.]
TO: lesedi@priderecords.prc FROM: thornydouchebag@priderecords.prc SUBJECT: RE: lmao look at this shit
A whole photoshoot, damn. You're the hero we deserve.
I'm cursed ugly, sorry, but I will do my best.
[Art's "best" is designer clothes that look like you could buy them at Target Bullseye but cost a frankly horrific amount of money. Loose t-shirt, unzipped hoodie, torn jean shorts that were probably ~expertly shredded~ by a lion or some shit, sneakers... At least the tights look nice. Horrifically clashing with the Hello Kitty shades, but, y'know. He bought those for seven dollars. His totally-not-a-robot assistant looks like he's going to die from a heart attack any second.]
[He's actually terrified out of his wits. Unfortunately, being a Captor, this means he starts running his mouth like he isn't the second he sees Santiago.]
As it turns out, all my pretty clothes are variants of this for sets, so I thought about getting a suit, but one I'd look like a dumbass and two, it's just going to get covered in semen by the end of the night while you're going to look better than me either way, so, like, why bother, right?
So I picked the most expensive shit. If that doesn't count, I totally had Pepe steal one of Aramat's fancy coats that I can fling on.
[If Santiago gives a fuck, she can probably guess that Art's totally-not-a-robot assistant isn't named Pepe. Guess who has been calling him Pepe anyway.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
interstellarnpcs) wrote2015-09-21 08:13 pm
PHONE
Pride Records. Office of Lesedi Santiago.
[Whether or not Miss Santiago will get back to you is a toss up – but for now, you can leave a message with her assistant.]
EMAIL
VIP☆
But this does mean that you can use this area to have your Manager report to Lesedi about your band’s activities. It also means that you can contact Lesedi directly if she likes you enough to give you this number. Use your power wisely.
She will also accept texts.]
> Artolo: throw caution into the wind and into a tank of sharks
FROM: thornydouchebag@priderecords.prc
SUBJECT: LOGO
So I was explaining to someone how Pride and our image works, when I realized there was a motto we could really use. Add it to the logo for you, hope you like it.
[There's an attachment. And yes, there is gleeful glitter text in a horrific yellow with the words "be the best trainwreck you can be".]
PREDATOR
> Squalo
FROM: s.squalo@priderecords.prc
SUBJECT: YOUR GHOST FRIENDS
Something's going on again. I would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience.
[ ...that's probably the furthest thing from 'discreet' imaginable, but hey, it should get her attention at least. ]
no subject
FROM: lesedi@priderecords.prc
SUBJECT: RE: YOUR GHOST FRIENDS
What are you going on about exactly? Don't waste my time.
-Lesedi Santiago
no subject
TO: lesedi@priderecords.prc
FROM: s.squalo@priderecords.prc
SUBJECT: RE: RE: YOUR GHOST FRIENDS
Oh, you know. People who should be dead conspiring using idiots who still don't know any better. You sure you want to have this conversation over email?
no subject
FROM: lesedi@priderecords.prc
SUBJECT: RE: YOUR GHOST FRIENDS
I said tell me exactly. And I told you not to waste my time. You've got one more reply to stop being vague.
no subject
FROM: s.squalo@priderecords.prc
SUBJECT: RE: YOUR GHOST FRIENDS
And I thought I could tell you over late dinner. I can guarantee it wouldn't be a waste of your time.
[ w...hen in doubt, hit on your homicidal, omnipowerful superior? ]
[ he could, theoretically, throw some other bands under the bus, but ]
Garcia, the bartender on the first floor, is giving out flyers to new musicians. It says "Remember January 30th". When I asked what the fuck it was about, a valve flew right off a soda machine and hit me, but nobody was there. Don't tell me that's a new feature you had installed.
[SUDDENLY ACTION]
A few minutes later, Squalo will find himself abruptly teleported into Lesedi's office, right in front of her desk. She is leaning forward over tented fingers, looking very annoyed and impatient.]
When and where did this happen? Exactly - and I do mean exactly.
no subject
[ He still VOIs loudly and possibly falls on his ass as his surroundings suddenly change and whatever comfy thing he was sitting on disappears from under him. ]
Holy shit! I mean. Good afternoon, Miss.
[ It's one thing to hear about this, another to actually live it. But he's been in deadly business long enough not to make her ask twice. He does straighten up first, though. ]
Eleven days ago. "Lion Lounge", between the rec room #7 and the choreography practice area. [ He manages a half-smirk, though it's a bit twitchy, and raises a hand to the back of his head. ] Still got the bruise if you wanna feel it.
no subject
And how do you know about any "ghosts"?
no subject
Not the first time I see things flying around here.
[ Also he's heard some things from the people who had gone missing on the very day he used for his fake story. Hey, just because he hadn't participated in the thing doesn't mean he's deaf and blind. ]
At least last time they talked instead of braining me with a fucking valve.
[ Of course we're back to him. Brainwashing overlords can't stop this vanity. ]
Oh, and there was something else.
no subject
I'm waiting, Squalo.
no subject
Koumei Ren. What happened to him?
no subject
What did the ghost say, you moron?!
[This might have been the wrong way to go about this.]
no subject
Write, to be precise. "HELP".
[ He hasn't forgotten his own question. ]
no subject
And that's it? And why do you think they have anything to do with me?
no subject
[ He's pretty sure people don't break someone's joints for fun if there's no personal stake to it, but hey, he could be wrong. ]
no subject
If you think for a second that you can play games with me and get away with it - I'll show you where your sack of shit friend is by making sure you join him!
no subject
So not fired, I take it.
[ There's the briefest baring of his teeth, something between a pained grimace from her grip, and... a smirk. ]
Shit, you're beautiful when you're angry.
[ IS HE OKAY IN THE HEAD? ]
[ DEFINITELY NOT. But look on the bright side, maybe he lost it out of fear or something. ]
no subject
With a roar of fury, she just kind of hurls him at the windows behind her desk. They don't break, at least.]
no subject
April Fool's?
[ YES SQUALO I'M SURE SHE'S FEELING VERY HUMOROUS RIGHT NOW ]
Well, not the last part. [ important distinction. he does have a thing for people that can make him evaporate at the force of will. ] Do I get an answer?
no subject
Her eyes flash like lightning, and suddenly he's being lifted, as if in a field of static. It prickles his skin as he's lifted off the ground, and promptly thrown in the general direction of her book case.]
You'll get my foot up your ass you smug sack of shit!
no subject
[ He grits his teeth in anticipation this time, but there's still a pained sound when he hits the hard surface, several books probably falling on top of him. ]
[ He opens his mouth to say that it's definitely not his kink, but realizes that maybe, maybe that's not the best idea right now. ]
Not... necessary. You're making a point.
[ ...as close to an apology as it'll get, probably. ]
no subject
What?!
[There's a pause as she listens to whoever is on the other side - she relaxes just a fraction.]
Cass - no! You would not believe the shit I am putting up with today. It is absolutely insane.
[She strides over and gives Squalo one last kick - not as hard as she could - and keeps talking on the phone.]
I'm at my wit's fucking end.
no subject
Not even a hint?
no subject
I am going to cut your balls off.
[Then briefly returns to her phone.]
I have to handle this. I'm going to be late. Save a spot for me - just joking, I own every seat in the building.
[She hangs up, and then dials a new number.]
Security? Hi. I'm sending a package down to the labs for you. One that is quite possibly withholding information.
no subject
[ --wait, what. ]
Vooi, I answered everything you asked!
[ THIS IS UNFAIR. ]
no subject
Prep the equipment. He'll be right over.
[She closes the phone and leans down to him, speaking in a comparatively soft tone.]
Never...Never. Talk down to me again.
no subject
I didn't. Bad day?
[ ...at least he doesn't ask if it's that time of the month. ]
no subject
Bye!
[And then he'll fall unconscious.]
no subject
[ACTUALLY ACTION...?]
[Things have gotten a little less rough since that first time after what happened with Yuffie and Tooru and everyone else involved in whatever had made Lesedi so angry, and while Luci can't exactly say she's thrilled to have her life interrupted for immediate sex whether she wants it or not, things could be worse. She could be nursing worse wounds than just walking funny for a day.]
So-- [Luci rolls over and drags her jacket over, looking for a cigarette.] --did you hear anything about the flatbed truck thing we did?
[Hey, more and more often, Lesedi is actually talking to her after these things. It's as good a topic as any, and Luci's actually curious if any of their antics actually makes it up this far. If not, well, good story material.]
no subject
Which truck thing would that be?
[She's only half listening, and that much is obvious.]
no subject
We did a show on the back of a moving flatbed and and the audience drive behind us to watch. It's how we pulled Ace in. [She pulls a cigarette out of her jacket and a lighter.] You want one?
SORRY THIS IS SO LATE I will tag it properly if you want to now.
Sure.
[She whistles softly, and the cigarette lights without need of a lighter.]
I could smoke at least two dozen of these tonight.
Okay!
Yeah? How come?
[This is how it goes, of course. Lesedi acts as though Luci didn't say a word about the performance and starts venting.]
no subject
[She helpfully points to the book case in question, which looks fine, while Squalo is probably not.]
no subject
...and that's it? [Read: did you kill him?]
no subject
[She looks at her fingernails disinterestedly.]
He had to be disciplined. I tell you, if anyone else had given me that sort of attitude...thinking he can manipulate me.
But I made an exception.
no subject
[Luci feels a brief flash of fury, and thoughts of punishment for calling out bullshit leave a bad taste in her mouth. But those quiet down very quickly, not just because she's naked in Lesedi's bed but... something else tells her to be quiet.]
I'm surprised, he can be thick-headed and can say some stupid shit. Why did you make an exception?
no subject
FROM: thornydouchebag@priderecords.prc
SUBJECT: lmao look at this shit
You know what we should do? Take a selfie in front of this mess and make the worst faces. Put it on twitter, throw some shade. I mean what are they going to do???
Maybe we can get drinks after, or just skip to getting shitfaced in celebration of being better than everyone else?? lmk so that I can clear up my schedule for vomiting out a balcony onto someone's expensive car. Already did my set.
[Attached is a picture of a Virgo decorated ad truck of some sort on the streets of Berlin, along with what is clearly Artolo's hand flipping it off.]
no subject
FROM: lesedi@priderecords.prc
SUBJECT: RE: lmao look at this shit
We will make it a photo shoot. The whole deal.
Make yourself pretty you have forty five minutes....
no subject
FROM: thornydouchebag@priderecords.prc
SUBJECT: RE: lmao look at this shit
A whole photoshoot, damn. You're the hero we deserve.
I'm cursed ugly, sorry, but I will do my best.
[Art's "best" is designer clothes that look like you could buy them at
TargetBullseye but cost a frankly horrific amount of money. Loose t-shirt, unzipped hoodie, torn jean shorts that were probably ~expertly shredded~ by a lion or some shit, sneakers... At least the tights look nice. Horrifically clashing with the Hello Kitty shades, but, y'know. He bought those for seven dollars. His totally-not-a-robot assistant looks like he's going to die from a heart attack any second.][He's actually terrified out of his wits. Unfortunately, being a Captor, this means he starts running his mouth like he isn't the second he sees Santiago.]
As it turns out, all my pretty clothes are variants of this for sets, so I thought about getting a suit, but one I'd look like a dumbass and two, it's just going to get covered in semen by the end of the night while you're going to look better than me either way, so, like, why bother, right?
So I picked the most expensive shit. If that doesn't count, I totally had Pepe steal one of Aramat's fancy coats that I can fling on.
[If Santiago gives a fuck, she can probably guess that Art's totally-not-a-robot assistant isn't named Pepe. Guess who has been calling him Pepe anyway.]