working from home [open]

[Mark Harrison]

The day was dark and gross. The rain was heavy, the sky was dark, and his power had flickered twice before finally going out. Since he had a day full of work ahead of him and no power, Mark had set up several candles and grabbed a list of proposals. Ever since that damned werewolf movie had taken off, more and more producers and casting directors had been knocking on Mark's door with scripts and proposals. There was money to be made here, and money was all that Mark cared about.

He had a daughter to care about, after all.

Speaking of his daughter, Lyssa was currently lying on the floor near his legs, two or three books open in front of her. She was obviously trying to copy her father, who had a handful of scripts scattered open in front of him, each near their own candle. Just like Mark, Lyssa seemed to have the ability to read multiple things at once and, on top of trying to mimic her father, was actually succeeding. It was enough to bring a smile to his lips, and the wererabbit reached down, to ruffle her hair. She grumbled once, but butted her head against his leg.

He passed her a bottle of water, which she accepted, and turned back to his scripts. So far, it had been a good day, except for the loss of power. But now he had no excuse to not get back to work. There was no internet to distract him, no cartoon for Lyssa to use as an excuse to cuddle. If he could just get through three of these scripts before the power came back on, then Chris would have several offers. Several offers he could reject, Mark thought, pressing his lip together.

Ever since the last movie had taken off, Chris seemed to want bigger, better parts. He wanted parts that mattered, while all Mark wanted was for parts that payed. It was the one big difference between the two of them, but it was enough of a different that they butted heads often. Chris was an artist; Mark was all about business. It was a fighting point, but not a breaking point. They could work through it, and they would.

He had only gotten halfway into the script when the doorbell rang.

"Dear God. I hate you all."

WORDS ;; 376
THOUGHTS ;; Maybe he can finally work?
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Open!
CREDIT ;; money from cabaret

[Tamiel]

[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"]

i'm one part saint and two parts sinner
and the last part is still on the line

logan holloway

~~~~~~~~~~

Plague Children was becoming a movie, and Tamiel had seen enough movies to know exactly who he wanted for the lead male's position.

This story was his baby, and by far his most popular--he told interviewers he'd been nursing it and refining it since high school and had only gotten it up to par recently, though the truth was that he'd been working on the idea since at least the 1700's and had been constantly rethinking it and tweaking it and updating it through the centuries--and he wanted it to be perfect. He'd been very civil about the entire ordeal with the rest of those involved with casting, and as such they'd allowed him to choose who he wanted for the part of Nathaniel Langston. It had been all too easy to choose after viewing a few more recent movies, and that was why he was currently en route via falcon form to the home of Chris Harper's agent. He had to thank his lucky stars that he was able to stay clothed when he finished shifting.

His talons were currently locked on a plastic portfolio, which had turned out to be quite a good idea considering the rain that had been going strong all night. He located the address he was supposed to be going to, breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted tiny lights inside, and dropped from the sky to return to his human form and ring the doorbell, the portfolio tucked safely under his arm.

Truth be told, he wasn't certain this was the first thing he'd have chosen to do after... whatever had happened in the past few weeks. He was still a little disoriented, and he'd had a few strange things happen on Skype calls with Mickey. No matter, though. There was still work to be done, and if he wanted to have the money to be able to stay in Chicago so he could help Tori, he was going to have to do things like this even when he wasn't feeling at his best.

"Hello?" he called, trying to be heard over the heavy rain. "Is this the residence of Mr. Harrison? I've got something for you to look over, if that's okay."

~~~~~~~~~~

word count :: 371 ::
notes :: none ::
tagged :: Mark Harrison ::
outfit :: here ::
mood :: tense ::

[Mark Harrison]

Honestly, Mark wasn't sure who the hell would get out in weather like this. It couldn't be a normal, sane human being; no, even if a normal, sane human being was desperate enough to get out in this weather, it wouldn't be his luck. All Mark ever received were desperate actors or sleep-deprived director, all wanting something or other from him. Representation, Christopher Harper, the chance to look over a script that wasn't going to make them any money or schedule any extra interviews.

To Mark, that was what it was all about. Dedication and hard work were good, of course; he had been a hard worker all his life, trying to live up to the expectations of his huge family. He had to be a hard worker to put bread and meat on the table for his little kidlet. If this newcomer had a script worthwhile, then perhaps he might be worth Mark's wile. But otherwise, he was going to have to shut the door and get them to come back later. Perhaps make an appointment.

Sure enough, Mark had barely gotten to the door when he heard, "I've got something for you to look over, if that's okay." 

A long, quiet sigh escaped his lips. Of course. Okay, so someone had to humor the crazies. And crazies they would have to be, to get out in this rain. With another sigh and a pointed look to Lyssa, Mark attempted to straighten his clothes. He couldn't even be bothered to care hat he was currently in a messy shirt and khakis; it was just one of those days.

Mark opened the door, pausing only to look the other man over. He recognized him almost immediately; Logan Holloway. It took a brief second of thinking for Mark to try to register why Mr. Holloway was here. Then Mark remembered; Mr. Holloway's book was being made into a movie. That was an even better thought than the sudden heat around Mark's collar. When it came down to a hot man versus money, Mark always went with money.

"Mr. Holloway," Mark nodded, moving aside. "Come on inside. It's getting nasty out there."

WORDS ;; 376
THOUGHTS ;; Well, this sorta counts as work.
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Open!
CREDIT ;; money from cabaret

[Tamiel]

[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"]

i'm one part saint and two parts sinner
and the last part is still on the line

logan holloway

~~~~~~~~~~

Even though it had only been a few weeks, it felt like an age since anyone had called him "Mr. Holloway," and the thought was enough to elicit a sharp laugh from the fallen angel as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Please, it's Logan. I understand that there's some formality here, since I am here on business, but nobody's called me Mr. Holloway for a very long time. Anyway. Thank you for the kind invitation inside." He would have moved from the entryway, but he was frankly drenched and didn't want to get any of the interior wet. Offering the portfolio with one hand, Tamiel wiped at his eyelids with the other to clear the raindrops sticking to his lashes.

One of the first things he noticed was that Mark was quite attractive. It seemed nearly everyone in the industry was these days. He and Mickey weren't exactly going steady--as a matter of fact, they weren't really "going" at all yet, since they'd only met a short while ago--so he didn't feel as guilty as he otherwise might have in admiring Mark's appearance in spite of, or possibly in addition to, his haphazard wardrobe choices.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Tamiel said, wincing a little as he realized that they weren't alone in the home. "This is the first I've been out in quite some time, and I'd only just gotten the green light to find who I wanted for the part. I wanted to approach you as soon as possible so that if you decided it wasn't quite right for you and yours, I'd have some time to figure something else out. I hope you understand."

Something gnawed at the back of his mind. He'd not been out for some time, sure. That was the truth. But it still bothered him that he wasn't entirely certain what had transpired while he'd been away. He remembered parts of it, sure, but there were large spans of time that were entirely missing from his memory, and that bothered him. But it wasn't relevant now. He'd gotten through whatever it was that had happened, and now he was here, hoping that Mark would humor him.

He had a good feeling, though. Something told him that even if Mr. Harrison wasn't quite so fond of the script, he'd be able to find someone else in time, and he desperately hoped that it was right.

~~~~~~~~~~

word count :: 406 ::
notes :: none ::
tagged :: Mark Harrison ::
outfit :: here ::
mood :: a bit less tense, but still nervous ::

[Mark Harrison]

"No, no," Mark insisted, taking the file folder from his hands. He moved out of the way, offering him entrance into the home, "please, come inside. Lyssa, go grab our guest a towel or two, okay, sweetie?"

As the little girl wandered off, Mark hurried over to his desk. He grabbed the other scripts, being sure to mark his places, and stacked them in the order of which he found most interesting. So far, only one or two were really grabbing his attention. The werewolf movie was sounding like the best option of the three, especially considering one was a romantic comedy, and Christopher Harper wasn't exactly the "rom com" type. 

They had learned that lesson the hard way. Through filming, Chris and his costar, Rebecca, had become friends, but everything else... Well, Chris wasn't one for a flat script or a flat character. He didn't want anything that didn't make people think. Seven Years wasn't that sort of movie. Seven Years was a movie where Chris found a woman, had sex with her, and then they fought -- only to later come together years later.

After Seven Years, Chris had sworn off any sappy movies. 

It was a bad move, at least in Mark's eyes. Romantic comedies paid well, but Chris still wanted nothing to do with them. Ever the artist, that one.

"Not at all," Mark said, turning to the man. "My daughter and I were just taking advantage of the lack of internet to get a few things done." As if on cue, Lyssa came hurrying back with the towel, handing it over to the stranger. Once she was free of her task, the little girl returned to her books. Mark just shook his head, shutting the door behind Tamiel. "Your timing is actually perfect.

"So. You want Chris. Mind telling me about your project?"

WORDS ;; 324
THOUGHTS ;; Hell yea this is work.
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Tamiel
CREDIT ;; money from cabaret

[Tamiel]

[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"]

i'm one part saint and two parts sinner
and the last part is still on the line

logan holloway

~~~~~~~~~~

When Lyssa handed him the towel, Tamiel dried off as much of his body as he could, starting with his face. "Thank you very much," he said, nodding slightly. "I'm glad I'm not being a nuisance."

After a moment of contemplation, Tamiel began speaking about his novel. "My novel was about a man who cared very much about his daughter. She contracted a virus that was sweeping the land, infecting children and babies and making them aggressive and bloodthirsty. The civilians started to suspect that the government had released the virus, so riots break out and decimate many of the cities. Children start attacking people. That sort of thing. Nathaniel, the man, goes on a search across the land for a cure, as his daughter isn't too far to save yet. There's a pregnant woman that he ventures with that comes from his hometown, and though they'd at first been bitter toward one another, eventually they grow close and become friends. When they do finally find the facility, there are successful vaccines and antidotes being made, but the world as they knew it is completely decimated and they'll have to rebuild from there."

After his explanation, Tamiel stopped for a while. He really liked Plague Children, and was glad it had earned so much acclaim. He hoped that Mark liked the idea as much as he did, and that they would both be able to benefit from it. "It was quite popular as a book," he said, smiling a little. "And I've seen Chris in a few horror movies. When I thought about who I believed would make the best father so desperate to save his daughter that he'd kill to keep her safe... he was the first one to come to mind." Shrugging, Tamiel wiped off the portfolio and let the towel hang in his other hand at his side. "So I hope the idea sounds appealing to you."

~~~~~~~~~~

word count :: 320 ::
notes :: second time writing this lel ::
tagged :: Mark Harrison ::
outfit :: here ::
mood :: tentative and hopeful ::

[Mark Harrison]

Mark listened to the idea quietly, scratching words down on his notepad every few seconds. The idea sounded good, and Mark had read the novel once or twice. It was a good book, even if the genre wasn't one he cared for too much. It had a decent enough story, and the characters were more than likable. The father even reminded Mark of a few people in his life. But Mark knew that Chris made a good villain, and Mark knew people loved to see a good villain. They especially loved it when Chris played a good villain.

And what the people loved, Mark loved, so long as it put more money in his pocket. 

"I've read Plague Children," he admitted, moving to get into his seat. After fiddling with the other scripts his possible employers had given him, he tossed them into the same pile he tossed the others. A frown crossed his face. "Chris has, as well, I think. He's mentioned it once or twice. But I don't think he ever mentioned trying to get a part if it became a movie. Then again," Mark tossed Lyssa one of her books, "we don't know what will and what won't become a movie."

Mark finally quite fiddling with his desk long enough to sit, though his legs began to twitch beneath his desk. "Let me see the script. While I read, you can tell me some details of the story. Not the story-story, but the development of the film. How long? Budget? What's his cut?" And mine, he wanted to say, but avoided that. His check came from Chris'. "Not that we don't like your movie because I do. Both Lyssa and I have read Plague Children. But it's a business."

"And business is about money," Lyssa chirped, repeating her father's favorite words. When her dad glanced over, the child grinned. "Dibs on an extra roll. Can I be a dead child?"

"Lyssa."

WORDS ;; 324
THOUGHTS ;; Yea let's get this shit done. Dammit, Lyssa.
OUTFIT ;; [ CLICK! ]
TAG ;; Tamiel
CREDIT ;; money from cabaret

[Tamiel]

[googlefont="Amatic SC"][googlefont="Loved by the King"]

i'm one part saint and two parts sinner
and the last part is still on the line

logan holloway

~~~~~~~~~~

Tamiel grimaced internally. That didn't sound like a good sign to him. But, business was business. He'd have to try his damnedest to get Chris on board anyway.

"Well," he said, a lopsided smile on his face, "not having to hire a scriptwriter since I did it myself... that helped the time just a bit. It'll be two hours, should take somewhere between eight and ten months to produce. We're looking at seventy million, and Chris is guaranteed a good five hundred thousand up front, plus one percent of whatever we make from it." Tamiel wasn't the best at knowing what was and wasn't good as far as paychecks went in the acting world, but considering it had been the figures that had been spit out of the one in charge of these things after some "persuasion" that Chris had to be the one for the job and needed to be paid very well, he thought it probably sounded at least reasonable.

"We're pretty sure it's going to do well. At least well enough to pay for itself and then some." He passed the script over to Mark. "I'm glad you've liked the book, and I understand. Getting a cut from this is going to be quite nice if it does take off like we all think it's going to."

He smiled at Lyssa, nodding a little. "We've got plenty of space for extras, especially kids. I'm making a cameo myself, so it shouldn't be too hard to convince the casting department to get you in."

Not that it'd be particularly hard to convince the casting department of anything, as they were sitting comfortably in the palm of his hand after his incredibly compelling speech about how he wanted things to go. He really didn't want to have to do the same to Mark, and he wasn't sure he had it in his heart to do so anyway. He was too... cute. He didn't deserve to be manipulated into a bad deal.

"I hope this all sounds good to you."

~~~~~~~~~~

word count :: 340 ::
notes :: i hope this sounds good i did some research but i know zero abt movies ::
tagged :: Mark Harrison ::
outfit :: here ::
mood :: a little antsy ::