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Post by Alex Fraser on Apr 5, 2016 11:58:54 GMT
Stripping off his jacket, Alex thumped down on one of the stools that lined the bar of the Full Moon. He should, honestly, have been back at the house, putting in the windows he’d been reframing in the kitchen, but after nine hours trying to get the old truck he’d bought last week running the thought of more work had left him running for the bar. Before he’d lit out at 18 he’d been too young to drink anything more than a cold soda here, his dad’s second cousin three times removed, or whatever Doug Johnson had been to him, wouldn’t have stood for more. After that he’d paid the odd visit to the place on his few furloughs home but it wasn’t until he’d come back for good two years ago that he’d really started to feel at home in the bar. By now his name likely should’ve been inscribed under the old stool, Josh’s on the one right along next to his. They’d spent dozens of nights perched on them, laughing over a beer or watching a game on the big screen TV Clea had installed the minute she’d taken over the place. Since Gabe’d come back they’d convinced him to join them a few times but this evening, it seemed, he was flying solo.
As part of the pack that should’ve riled him but in the years away from his family, away from Cloistere he’d grown used to it. Spending the full moon alone had been painful at first but even that Alex had grown used to in the end. Being back, having others around had taken some getting used to but there were times now when it felt like he’d never left. Glancing around Alex took stock of the faces around him, those caught up in conversations over beer and the plates of food that Clea’s chef turned out of the small kitchen out back, those whose concentration was solely on the booze in front of them. Alex hoped to hell he got caught up in the former tonight, the latter was the sort of state he’d found himself in when he’d first returned to town, practically hounded out of the base in San Diego with locals bearing burning torches and pitch forks. The military had never exactly been known for its leniency and from what he’d been able to gather ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ was never meant to cover people going furry three nights a month. That was all in the past now though, his future was a career in this town, even if it was one his father never would’ve turned a hand to. The Frasers had always been a little more soft handed when it came to work.
Alex turned his hand over on the bar now, studying his palm. If it hadn’t been for his accelerated healing it would probably have been covered with little nicks and scars now, the symbols of a life time spent on hard work. The scraped knuckles he’d gotten trying to get the exhaust off the truck this morning had healed in moments, the skin now unbroken and smooth. Tomorrow he’d likely do the same thing again, turning the air blue as he smacked an elbow into something or whacked his head on the underside of whatever vehicle he was working on. These days that was just par for the course, as was the steak he was about to beg off of Clea. Slipping back off the seat, Alex rounded the bar and poked his head through the serving hatch to beg a beer and a steak and fries off of Clea. The answer he got in return was tantamount to serve yourself. Rolling his eyes, knowing she’d sort the food for him at least, Alex turned back and began to pour himself a beer. Catching the eyes of another customer he at least managed to look sheepish for a moment. ”Can I get you anything while I’m behind here? She’ll be back in a minute if you want to order from the pretty blonde or you can just save yourself the trouble and let me play Tom Cruise...” That would likely end in disaster. Beer, shots and soda he could likely handle but swinging bottles around? That was the sort of trick that he typically only got up to after hours with friends, when losing control and finding himself in a fit of
Tagged: Open * Word Count: 737
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Post by Sally Bellerose on Apr 5, 2016 23:05:33 GMT
[googlefont="Courgette"]  When I said that I loved you I meant that I'd love you forever Sally hadn't been coming to The Half Moon long, but the owner was probably one of the most amazing people she'd ever met, and she happened to give her a job. Not only could she tend bar and cater to customers from time to time when they were busy, but she allowed Sally to sing there. It wasn't the most lucrative of jobs, but between that and the occasional waitressing and tending bar, she was able to keep her bills paid on her little two bedroom apartment. Besides.. it was actually kind of fun. Tonight, she was there to do the music thing. She sat down at the bar to get a little drink first, and was surprised to see someone there who wasn't Clea. "Uh.." she began, suddenly feeling herself losing control of her brain. Who..was this? How had she not met him? Clearly he knew his way around the back of the bar.
He offered to get her a drink, and promised Tom Cruise moves if she didn't mind getting a drink from him rather than Clea. "Could I just get a beer? It settles my nerves." Ginger ale worked the same, but she didn't need to be burping through her entire set. "I haven't met you yet.. but.. i'm kinda new to the area. It's my first night at my new job." She paused. "Don't worry. My employer encourages drinking on the job." She teased with a wink. Although Sally was a little nervous to sing for a bar crowd that she had yet to know - this wasn't the French Quarter anymore - she was finding it easy to talk to this stranger. Maybe it was the New Orleans in her.  |
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Post by Alex Fraser on Apr 6, 2016 13:55:52 GMT
Cloistere had always been the sort of town where everybody knew almost everybody else. That wasn’t to say newcomers didn’t drift in and out, they did fairly regularly, but for the most part people tended to stay. Away for almost a decade Alex hadn’t seen all who’d decided to start calling the town home. Even two years back hadn’t caught him up entirely. Family had been focused on, a few new friends made but for the most part Alex had settled happily into the sort of rut he’d sworn he hadn’t wanted to find when he’d left at eighteen. Clea was one of those newcomers and if the way she’d been with him was anything to go by, she’d muscled her way into a lot of lives since she’d turned up and most people had been happy to let her do it. She’d had the old bar refurbished, turning it from a bit of a dive into somewhere most people in Cloistere would have been happy to frequent. The blonde had welcomed him like an old friend the first time he’d walked in after she’d taken over and with a little arm bending he’d agreed to help her out getting the old place back on its feet.
Standing with one hand on the bar top, feeling a little like he’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar, Alex felt a vague sense of pride. Clea hadn’t sweet talked him into actually working behind the bar yet but during the refurbishment he had stripped the entire thing down. Josh had kept him company during the weekend he’d spent polishing it back up. The two of them had practically drunk the bar dry while they’d worked and it’d been a good thing they were practically done by the time Clea and Katie had come back to find them stretched out on the floor howling like loons over some joke he couldn’t even remember now. Fraser blood, sweet and tears had gone into Cloistere for as long as it had existed and although he’d disappointed his dad in skipping out when he had, Alex knew that he was doing his part now, even if it was just offering up what were likely to be the world’s worst cocktails to the new faces in town.
The sheepishness rapidly turned into a warm chuckle as the blonde who’d walked in seemed to lose control over her vocabulary. Alex knew he should’ve felt guilty for throwing her off but he was a little too amused over her reaction. The sheepishness gave way to a grin as Alex tipped his head back towards the kitchen. ”Clea’s back there,” he explained. ”She’s probably giving her chef hell over a bad batch of curly fries or something.” In actuality it was probably more like Clea was flirting with the guy shamelessly or she was coaxing him into working double time for her during play-off week. Nodding at the woman’s response, Alex took a side step down the bar and fetched a glass down off the rack he’d built for Clea. ”A beer it is.” The words that were on the tip of his tongue dried up as she said her employer encouraged drinking on the job. That had to be Clea, no one else in town was quite like that, although Alex was pretty sure if this woman was a bartender he would’ve seen her around by now.
Thankfully Alex managed to set the glass of cold beer down on the bar in front of the woman before his cheeks managed to erupt into flames. Usually he wasn’t bashful, although on the odd occasion Clea had managed to get some colour rising up his face with her bawdy ways. ”I take it Miss Friendly back there’s the new boss. Hope I’ve not gone and stolen the new job by sneaking back here.” Flashing the woman a grin, Alex offered her his hand. ”Alex Fraser. Mechanic, carpenter, occasional job stealer. Welcome to Cloistere.” Clea had no doubt given her the tour of the bar if she was the one who’d been doing the hiring. There was a couple of centuries of history etched into the old tables that one of his great great uncles had put together from trees that’d grown on Fraser land, and a few names carved into the panelled walls. More than one set of initials was his own and despite the renovations Clea had seemed keen to keep all of that intact.
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Post by Sally Bellerose on Apr 6, 2016 17:46:39 GMT
When I said that I loved you I meant that I'd love you forever Sally was never one to lose her breath when she saw a cute boy, but this was far more than that. He was probably the most handsome man she'd ever laid her eyes on, and she felt.. something. It was probably one of those inherent witchy things, but
decided not to dwell on what could have been nerves and the utter shock of seeing someone so striking. "Clea? Giving someone Hell? Oh I imagine she's a firecracker but I haven't seen that side of her yet.. here's to hoping that never happens." She mused with a small smile.
She took the beer from him, thanked him, and took a drink. It was as refreshing as her tastebuds had hoped. Somehow, even the beer tasted better here than at home. "Yep. That'd be her. And don't worry.. i'm not meant to be back there. I'm supposed to be..." She lifted a hand and pointed toward a small stage. "There. Waitressing on weeknights, and tending to bar when it gets a little too hectic." She nodded. "Pretty simple.. I think. I can't complain.. I've got an awesome boss."
And some pretty customers to look at, too. She took his hand, and shook it gently. "Sally Bellerose, Singer, Former actress, and Freelance waitress." She gave him a playful wink. "Nice to meet you, Alex Fraser." |
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Post by Alex Fraser on Apr 8, 2016 17:39:58 GMT
Most who’d met her likely would’ve said that Clea had certainly livened things up around town with her arrival. She was rarely quiet, never held back her opinions and despite both of those things, remained absolutely loveable. Alex’d found himself charmed, albeit in a rather overwhelmed way, the minute he’d met her. He knew she’d wrapped Josh around her little finger too, slotting herself in as a sort of added sister to both of them. Josh would’ve told him he’d always been a sap for pretty girls but his buddy was just as bad in that regard as he was. They were both marshmallows beneath that slightly curmudgeonly surface. It certainly hadn’t taken long for this blonde to have him chuckling, although he wasn’t quite entirely gooey in the certain yet. ”Thankfully I haven’t either. Usually with her it’s hell in the sort of encouraging you into bad things way,” Alex admitted, grinning as he glanced back over his shoulder. ”She’s pretty good in that way. One minute you’re sitting there enjoying a beer, the next you find yourself dancing on the bar...” That was one trick he hadn’t been coaxed into yet, although there’d been a couple of nights of after hours drinking with the crew when he’d almost been goaded into it. ”Does the same stand for you dancing on the bar?” Alex mused, looking back at the woman with raised eyebrows.
With his customer served, Alex took a sip of the beer he’d fetched for himself. He’d been half glad when he hadn’t needed to try the Tom Cruise trick. Coaxing a troublesome piece of wood into playing nice and not taking his eye out at the lathe was child’s play in comparison to some of the drinks he’d seen Clea mix up. The woman was a dervish in her bar though and it looked like she was charming the town’s good folk back in so well that she was getting herself some help. From the way she was talking Alex had expected the woman to be solely a bartender but one wave of her hand and he was making a sound of sudden understanding low in his throat. ”Ah,” Alex murmured. ”Clea’s finally managed to charm herself a song bird to sing on that stage. I thought she was crazy when she had me making it but I guess she proved me wrong, yet again. We’re gonna have to get you some hats to wear, one for each bit of the job so I know when I can sweet talk you into bringing me a burger over.” Somehow, he thought, letting his gaze skim her face, he didn’t think he’d be the one doing so much of the sweet talking. This looked like another blonde with the ability to have him ridiculously charmed. If Gabe hadn’t been so caught up in Katie and Josh wasn’t still longing for some mystery woman, maybe he would’ve had some competition here.
Chuckling, Alex shook Sally’s hand as she took his. Then, slipping it from her grip, he raised a finger for a moment and touched it against her lips. ”I wouldn’t go yelling about your awesome boss too much, she might start getting a big head over it.” At a sound of complaint from the kitchen and a towel shooting through the serving hatch in his direction, Alex sidestepped and winked. ”Too late,” he mouthed at Sally. Knowing that Clea would likely emerge before long, Alex started making his way back around the bar to the stool where he’d left his coat. ”Nice to meet you Sally Bellerose. Former actress huh? You been in anything I might’ve seen?” Celebrities were certainly few and far between, unless you counted his father in that. The Duprés and Frasers were about as well known as Cloistere denizens got and outside of town, even they’d have trouble finding some recognition. Cloistere wasn’t just some sleepy back water but it wasn’t a city like New Orleans either. Most people came here looking for peace and quiet rather than a possible leg up with a career.
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Post by Sally Bellerose on Apr 9, 2016 18:49:28 GMT
When I said that I loved you I meant that I'd love you forever Sally knew that she was going to get along with Clea the moment she'd met her. There was something about her that could charm anyone, and Sally liked that. She also liked the fact that Clea's devious side included her talking people in to doing 'bad' things. She was that type of girl that Sally always wished she'd grown up with.. but since that wasn't in the cards, at least they could be friends now. Speaking of friends, Sally also wanted to become friends with the man who wasn't supposed to be behind the bar, who was asking if she was a bar dancer like her current boss. "Oh, I don't even need to have drinks in me to get up there and shake what my mama gave me." She mused with a grin.
It wasn't a lie, either. There was nothing better than letting loose and dancing on top of a bar. She did it quite a bit back home.. especially during Mardi Gras where she may have participated in a wet t-shirt contest or two during a teenager. "Maybe I should have a talk with Clea and turn this place in to a real live Coyote Ugly." She teased.
Somehow, Sally wasn't surprised that Alex built the very stage that she was about to sing on. She could read people fairly well, and by his muscles and rugged look - not to mention his man hands - he seemed like the type who liked to work with his hands. Not like the boys in the French Quarter who liked to have hands softer than her own. Snobbish pomps is what lived there, but this town had real men. Sally could get behind boys like that. "Ah, she didn't have to do much charming. I was a pretty easy sell." She smiled. "But i'm going to trust you that I won't fall through that thing. If I do, you better be up for nursing a jobless multi-tasker with a broken ankle." She laughed, and she took another drink of her beer. Of course she was teasing again, but the thought of it wasn't entirely horrible.
"Oh," she waved a hand. "I don't need a hat. If you see me not on stage somewhere, chances are that i'm free to bring you food. Especially if i'm juggling trays in my hand." She gave him a flash of a grin. "I'll leave the tipping at your discression." She didn't know this guy but for five minutes, and she was already finding it so easy to speak to him that she was in danger of missing out on her set. Oh well..she wasn't on the clock yet, and not many people were lingering. She had some time to talk.
"I can't help it!" She cooed. "I've never had a boss quite like her. I could see her and I being friends.. all of my other bosses were kind of dicks." She mused with a shrug. That was including the owners of the playhouse where she used to do her acting. If she wasn't putting out, she was going to either be an understudy or some supporting role..which was exactly why she left the business. Alex asked her if she'd been in anything he'd seen, and she quietly laughed with a shake of her head. "More than likely not, unless you've been to the playhouses in the French Quarter. I thought one day I'd make it to Broadway..but if it's anything like that? No thank you." She waved a hand of dismissal. "I'm not about that business anymore. Singing in nice little bars is good enough for me." She paused and quirked a brow. "Gonna stick around to hear your new Songbird friend belt a tune, or two?" |
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Apr 12, 2016 16:09:33 GMT
Post by Alex Fraser on Apr 12, 2016 16:09:33 GMT
While some might have looked at Cloistere and seen nothing more than a sleepy backwater, they would have been wrong, deceived by the fact that usually the place was peaceful and happy. The town square might’ve been empty after midnight, most of the town’s souls tucked up happily in bed, dead to the world in the sleep of the innocent, but it wasn’t always that way. There’d been enough raucous parties here to keep the town’s police busy breaking stuff up, and not only just at the bars. During the summer when they’d been teens, the Frasers, Duprés and Colts had brought the bayou alive with their gatherings. Alex’d been sure his dad had spent the entire time pacing in the house, going nuts about the ruckus they were creating but he hadn’t cared. It’d been all about cutting loose and that was the same feeling Clea had brought on the minute she’d opened the Half Moon. There were still the same old drunks sitting slowly mouldering in the corners but when the bar filled up at the weekends the place buzzed with energy. Alex could imagine this blonde in here then, doing just what she’d suggested. Heat made its way up through his body from the pit of his stomach, burning bright in the grin he shot right back at her. ”Now that’s something I’m gonna have to see,” he told her honestly. He imagined Clea wouldn’t have a problem with it, his sister and Gabe’s Lexi would likely be right up there beside the two blondes. Laughing, Alex hung his head and looked at his bar. ”I think if you do that I’m gonna have a lot more work to do on this thing to make sure it won’t collapse under the lot of you.” Alex imagined that the male hearts in town would last even less time than the ancient cypress bar would.
His dad had never gotten on with either of the career paths his eldest son had gone down. The military had been a bone of contention between the two of them, the idea of him going packless making Mayor Fraser practically apoplectic. His return home had been welcomed but the minute he’d made it clear he wasn’t heading straight to the town hall with his old man things had turned rocky again. His dad had been in the bar a time or two and had likely heard about just how much of it his son had helped rebuild, but there’d been no comment on it, no praise or bashing the way most others had reacted. At Sally’s admission the sound of understanding became something more akin to a sad clucking of his tongue. Alex shook his head as if to say ‘you poor child’. ”Regretting it yet?” he asked, continuing to tease. Most who came to the town ended up staying and no doubt this one had seen what so many others had so far. Putting down his beer Alex held up his hand like a boy scout. ”No collapses, no falls, no broken ankles, I promise. If you and the stage end up making me a liar then I’ll play nurse all you want. I warn you now though, I look way better in camo than I do in a little white nurse’s dress.” He knew enough of the basics to play corpsman to somebody though, somebody far less fragile than he’d always been. The Marines had people specially combat trained, their own doctors, their own medical facilities but out on tour or during training, there were enough accidents to keep most of them first aid savvy.
Focused as he was, Alex rarely managed to multitask the way he’d seen others handle with ease. His sister could put him to shame that way, breezily handling a half dozen things at once and it seemed like Clea’s new waitress-bartender-song bird was exactly the same way. Alex’s grin was solidly in place now, laughter touching his words as he teased. As Sally waved her hand, he raised his brows. ”Oh, I think I might be able to manage a pretty decent tip most of the time, that sort of service definitely sounds like it’ll be worth it. You’re gonna have everyone in this place eating out of your hand in five minutes flat.” Including those who’d already fallen for Clea’s charms. The feel of Sally’s lips seemed to still burn at the end of Alex’s fingertips as he grumbled good naturedly. ”She’s definitely not a dick,” he announced, making sure it was loud enough to make its way back through the hatch and soothe Clea’s hurt feelings. ”There aren’t many around like Clea and that’s probably a good thing for the men in this town. Too many like her and we’d all be in the ground in a couple of months."
He might not’ve always been Mr Perceptive but Alex could read between the lines well enough at times. Almost sadly he shook his head at the mention of playhouses in the French Quarter. ”I haven’t, until two years ago I hadn’t spent much time in Louisiana. I can say it’s Broadway’s loss and our gain though. If Clea’s and the possibly dangerous stage are good enough for you then you’re definitely more than good enough for us.” At the mention of stick around to hear a song or two, Alex settled pointedly onto the stool he’d occupied at the bar just a few minutes behind. ”I think I can swing that much, as long as your boss doesn’t decide to kick me out for being a pain in the ass,” Alex promised. Mock pushing up his sleeves, Alex pretended to prepare for what was bound to be a fair amount of applause.
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