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Name: Erica | Gender: woman- hear me roar! | Posts: 2,032 | Roses: 181
Old 10-20-2010 at 11:30 PM
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Old 12-16-2010 at 06:57 PM
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(OOC: For Mad :D) BIC:

Maureen Dawson

All Maureen could think about when it came to anything related to Moulin Rouge was the musical movie that she had watched while drinking absinthe. To say the least, she didn’t remember very much of it outside the fact that Nicole Kidman had played a prostitute and died of tuberculosis. And that Nicole Kidman had a surprisingly good singing voice. But standing here now in the foyer of Le Moulin Rouge, she had to admit that her opinion of such was even more greatly improved. It reminded her of the opera in some aspects, decorated richly with gold’s and reds and she made note that she would definitely come to see a show or two sometime. Besides, she wasn’t one to pass up beautiful women dancing anyways. If I could find a moment to breathe that is, I’d be here more often. And with the upcoming Nutcracker performance, it was hard to find any personal time unless it was really late at night. By the time rehearsal finished most nights, all she wanted to do was crawl into bed.

But it was not the promise of a show that brought her here today, but the invitation of said Madeleine de Chandon. Maureen didn’t have many friends in Paris anymore and since Madeleine had transferred from the Opera to the Rouge, she had even less. Cameron provided a much needed release but she was also sleeping with Cameron. Sometimes, it really was just helpful to be able to talk to someone without the added baggage and though she and Madeleine had slept together, that was in the past and they were simply friends now. She remembered the first time she and Madeleine had met. She had walked into the club and immediately spotted Madeleine at the bar. After taking a quick glance around the room, she realized that the woman was her target for the night. She had been pleased to find that she didn’t have to work very hard to get Madeleine to turn her attentions toward her. And quickly after, they were at Madeleine’s place and Maureen was waking up very sore but pleasantly so.

Though Maureen usually spoke to her one night stands occasionally, she didn’t make it a point to actually befriend them like she had with Madeleine. They had gone as far as having lunch dates and going shopping together. Needless to say, Madeleine was not the everyday one night stand Maureen was used to having. She scanned the entire room for the dark haired woman and after failing to locate her, decided to sit down on the stool beside the stair case and wait. She looked at her phone and realized she was a little early anyways. She gave the room around her another glance and a smile grew on her face. She realized it felt really good to know she would be in the presence of someone she called her friend instead of just a coworker.


I just wanna be alone now with the dark and the light. That's my favorite color blue there

As the sun sets in the sky, there's just something in the hue there in the corner of my eye
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Old 12-16-2010 at 08:08 PM
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Madeleine de Chandon

The world really was a beautiful place. At risk of sounding mushy, Madeleine was in love with her life. She was the hottest choreographer in Paris. The Moulin Rouge was planning its biggest shebang yet. Next week, Madeleine would start pulling double duty for the Rouge and Populaire. Her career, in a word, was sublime.

The fact that Madeleine de Chandon was marrying Myron Bolitar in the near-ish future didn’t hurt much, either.

Actually, it felt pretty damn wonderful.

Everywhere Madeleine looked in the post-Valentine’s Day haze, couples were on shaky ground. Her friend Ashton was hooking up with her fiancé‘s dad, which could only end in tears. Myron’s best friend, Santiago, had broken things off with one of Madeleine’s Rouge Girls and the Bolitar-de Chandon duo had been playing emotional pit crew for them both. Aryeh was a widower, fro Christ’s sake. And Maureen… You know, Madeleine would be hard pressed to say what her best friend’s relationship status was. Girl still had game. That wasn’t the point, though. Point was, while everybody else’s little love lives were spiraling down the tubes, Madeleine was at the top o’ her game. She and Myron had come a long way since last Valentine’s Day, when he’d drunk dialed her and she brought him home to listen to his slurred ramblings and profession of love.

This year was much better, Madeleine thought with a grin.

By this Valentine’s Day, Madeleine and Myron had been engaged for two months. They’d kept pretty mum about it at work, but pretty much everyone knew. The engagement bands each of them wore weren’t exactly subtle. Neither was Myron, come to think of it. Or Madeleine, for that matter. Flirting on the clock was shameless as ever it felt good.

But just because half the Rouge Girls knew Monsieur Bolitar and Mademoiselle de Chandon were a hot item right about now, that didn’t mean Madeleine had told everyone.

Or, at least, everyone who mattered.

There was really only one person in all of Paris who she wanted to share the news with. Maureen Dawson was her best friend and ex-bedfellow. The two of them had been through a lot together in the nearly two years they’d been so close. Witnessing break ups and triumphs and lows and highs, they were the epitome of “best friends”. The kind of best friend Madeleine wished she would have had when she was in her teens and twenties.

Could you imagine all the crazy sh*t Maureen and I would have gotten into if we met back then? the Frenchwoman thought with a grin. Planet Earth could not have handled that…

It had been ages, though, since they could schedule a time to get together. Finally, Madeleine just plunked her calendar down on her desk and carved out an entire afternoon for just them. Maureen had yet to really see the Rouge as it was and if anyone asked, Madeleine was running private tours today. Which wasn’t really a lie… per se. She grinned and made her way to the Foyer to find a waiting Maureen.

“Hello, stranger!” she called out brightly. “You wouldn’t happen to be my afternoon tour group?”
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Old 01-12-2011 at 12:48 AM
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(OOC: Guess who's back?? Sorry it took so long. My writer's block is officially gone!) BIC:

Maureen Dawson

She quickly whipped the phone out of her pocket to silence the dulcet tones of Tracy Bonham, knowing it would be rude in a few minutes to be on the phone at all. She quickly messaged Cameron back before sliding it back in her pocket on silent. In addition to the rude factor of being on the phone when in the company of others, it was also annoying. She remembered visiting Kristen once in the beginning, and she was on the phone texting the entire night with some guy. She had found ways to resolve the problem even though her methods had been a little unorthodox. My methods are always a little unorthodox. First, she opened a window and because she was hot-natured, Kristen didn't even look up from the phone. Then she yanked it from Kristen's hands, snapped it shut and threw it across the room and out the open window of the eight story apartment building. She could still practically hear the shriek that came from Kristen's mouth. It was silenced when she had pushed her against the wall and kissed her followed by another protest from Kristen when she pulled away. She had pushed her down on the couch, turned music on, and proceeded to give her a lap dance. And though she had to buy her a new phone the next day, it had still been well worth the trouble.

“Hello, stranger! You wouldn’t happen to be my afternoon tour group?” The voice snapped her out of her memories. She recognized the voice before she ever even saw the face, it was just as recognizable as the woman herself. She grinned before her head had fully turned to see Madeleine and it somehow widened when she actually caught sight of her friend. She made a mental note of the woman's attire, approving of it from a platonic level and something more. She always has had impeccable taste. And it was the subject of taste that had really begun their first conversation at the club. She stood to greet her friend properly as she got closer. “I think your every day afternoon tour group probably consists of more...should we say, wide eyed tourists who are a bit naive to everything that goes on in the world. I'm not the everyday tourist....much less your every day person and neither are you, come here,” and she leaned into hug the woman, something she wasn't used to doing but it felt right for her to embrace Madeleine. “How in the hell have you been?”


I just wanna be alone now with the dark and the light. That's my favorite color blue there

As the sun sets in the sky, there's just something in the hue there in the corner of my eye
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Old 01-13-2011 at 04:24 AM
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Madeleine de Chandon

Madeleine watched Maureen’s grin; the way it pulled her facial skin taut and accented the high, prominent sweep of her cheekbones. Her greenish eyes, flecked with Guinness brown, scanned Madeleine and the Frenchwoman was happy to be studied. It wasn’t like she, in turn, wasn’t watching Maureen. Moreover, on a slightly-less-than-conscious level, Madeleine had dressed for Maureen’s appraisal and approval. She wanted Maureen to know one thing: she was doing all right. Maureen had seen Madeleine as a mess and as a totally pulled together b*tch. Madeleine knew she looked the latter. She wanted Maureen’s eyes to flicker over her body and light up with approval. On her way to Maureen, Madeleine hazarded a long glance in a dressing room mirror. The jaunty tilt of her fedora—a gift from Aryeh-- let obsidian hair spill out from beneath it. Each tendril snaked down or around the curve of her slim neck. The pinstriped jacket pulled together nicely over a black camisole and went only a little snug over her chest. The A-line skirt kissed the knees of Madeleine’s dancing legs and flaunted the curve of her hips. Even her heels, accessories and make-up played up Madeleine’s features.

Perfection.

Both women moved forward. The faint click of Madeleine’s high heels filled the otherwise silent foyer. She wanted to laugh aloud and run to Maureen. An excited, swooping sensation tingled in Madeleine’s stomach.

Christ, it’s been forever.

As she got closer to Maureen, Madeleine happily studied her friend more. She’d missed the grin, yes, but also the impish glint she forever found in Maureen’s eyes. She missed the easy comfort she felt in Maureen’s company. She missed the accented voice—American, with a mix of Southern drawl and clipped, Northern city tones. It was reminiscent of Myron’s accent, but softer. Perhaps ‘more feminine’ was a better term, but Madeleine couldn’t be bothered to over-analyze the minute differences in tone, inflection, and God-knows-what-else.

“I think your every day afternoon tour group probably consists of more...should we say, wide eyed tourists who are a bit naive to everything that goes on in the world.”

Madeleine suppressed the rising objection on her tongue. No tourist to the Moulin Rouge was naïve. It bordered Paris’ most upscale zip codes, the more artistic zone of the city, and the Red Light District. Each area—plus the hordes of everyday, foreign tourists—supplied the daily tours and the nightly audiences. Everyday tourists were wide-eyed with excitement, but not naivety. They were either well-educated of the Red Windmill’s raunchy history or well-acquainted with the seamier side of the city.

“I'm not the everyday tourist....much less your every day person and neither are you,” Maureen continued, still smiling. “Come here.”

Madeleine wrapped her arms around Maureen and they both leaned into the hug. Madeleine was grateful for the feeling of Maureen’s arms around her. Her teeth tucked neatly beneath her lips, but her smile did not die. Briefly, Madeleine closed her eyes. They fluttered a little beneath her lids and she sighed softly.

“How in the hell have you been?”

Ah, Americans. Such an eloquent way of putting things, Madeleine thought, eyes coming open.

She pressed a cool, platonic kiss of greeting on Maureen’s cheek and pulled back—a little grudgingly—from the hug. She wanted to hold her best friend and jump up and down giddily with her as she flashed her the ring.

Patience, Madeleine…

She smiled and shrugged, sighing in a mock-long-suffering way.

“It’s been crazy,” she admitted. “Nothing I can’t handle, but c’est la vie. How about you? It’s been ages…!”
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Name: Ran | Gender: Female | Age: 28 | Posts: 1,118 | Roses: 84
Old 01-14-2011 at 08:28 PM
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Maureen Dawson

Maureen realized the moment she hugged Madeleine that the only person she had hugged in the past few months had been Cameron, someone she was still getting used to as opposed to Madeleine, someone she was more familiar with. And though they didn't hug each other all the time, the familiarity of the embrace, of the person in general, made Maureen sigh with contentment. Since Beth had left and Pieter had drifted to be a piece of her past, she had felt lost. Sure she connected to her surroundings and even the upbeat vibe of the city, but as far as people went, she was missing that certain sense of belonging that came with having friends. She realized now, somewhat gaining that feeling back being here with Madeleine, just how lonely she had become. Her eyes gently closed as Madeleine kissed her cheek and her mouth fell into a contented close mouthed smile. She quickly opened them back up when Madeleine pulled back and she at once noticed the reluctance that occurred when it came to breaking their embrace. She was relieved that the feeling was at least in that sense mutual and that Madeleine had found just as much comfort in her embrace as she had in hers.

“It’s been crazy, nothing I can’t handle, but c’est la vie. How about you? It’s been ages…!” Maureen was no stranger to transitions and so she knew that it had been hectic for Madeleine. Crazy was probably an understatement to how hectic it had really been. She found she didn't really know how to say she had been. Good wasn't exactly the right word but she hadn't been terrible either. In truth, to most people, she probably was far from good. On some level, she knew her relationship with Cam was based on the need to not be completely alone and that they both used each other which was unhealthy no matter which way you looked at the situation. She would have to talk about Cameron later. She had told no one of the relationship because of who they both were and the nature of it. She knew the only person that would probably understand would be Madeleine. Sometimes, a normal relationship didn't quite work out and other methods fit better. Madeleine had discussed Myron with her before and that was not exactly a normal relationship either.

“Me personally, I suppose I'm doing okay, nothing really spectacular." Except that you are sleeping with the Set Designer. “Work wise...it's been hectic as well. You know how it gets before performances and its even more agonizing without you there I've found. Rehearsal just isn't quite the same without you distracting me in some way or vice versa...” and she chuckled, remembering some of those days. Madeleine had made it so much easier to get through long rehearsals. And though she was saddened that those days were no more, she knew that there were probably more than a few that were relieved by the change of staff. There had been plenty of people that speculated as to why Maureen and Madeleine were so close but no one ever knew for sure if anything had ever happened. It had been their secret which in the end, made their relationship that much more fun. “Though I'm quite sure some people are probably happy about that fact.”


I just wanna be alone now with the dark and the light. That's my favorite color blue there

As the sun sets in the sky, there's just something in the hue there in the corner of my eye
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Old 01-22-2011 at 08:27 PM
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Madeleine de Chandon

Crazy adequately described the past couple months. Nothing she couldn’t handle, too, was true. But crazy wasn’t always good and just because she could handle it, didn’t mean she was handling it well. From the temporary split with Myron to the engagement to taking care of Aryeh to suddenly playing Momma Tiger for Rachel Day to accepting a second job at the Populaire to pay for the wedding… Madeleine’s whole life had been busy. This is why Madeleine wanted to hear about Maureen’s life. Her own was a self-made mess. At least Maureen’s was entertaining. Even at its most train-wreckiest (new word!), it was the kind of train wreck Madeleine wouldn’t mind rubbernecking at.

“Me personally, I suppose I'm doing okay, nothing really spectacular."

Madeleine lifted a curious brow. Really?

“Work wise...it's been hectic as well. You know how it gets before performances and its even more agonizing without you there I've found. Rehearsal just isn't quite the same without you distracting me in some way or vice versa... Though I'm quite sure some people are probably happy about that fact.”

Madeleine snorted. If she meant Ortiz… Well. Ortiz had clearly decided he’d rather put up with Madeleine-Maureen banter than go without a ballet master or mistress. And maybe their brand of humor might lighten Myron’s best man’s mood. But, seriously, Madeleine missed the Populaire. She had friends there. Here, she had Toddy, yeah. And she had her dancers. And there was Myron, of course. But it wasn’t the same. Toddy ran around playing double agent between Madeleine and Myron when things went wrong. Only a small handful of her dancers were worth Madeleine’s time and somehow, Madeleine didn’t think it mattered if Myron worked at the Rouge, the Populaire or in China. He was her fiancé. She saw him inside and outside of work. But at the Populaire, there was Maureen. Always Maureen. No matter what was going wrong in their respective love-sex lives, they were friends. No matter what a stupid broad the other one was being. No matter what any man, woman, or group said about them. Best friends. Madeleine smiled. They still were.

“Psh, they secretly miss me distracting you. At least we made rehearsals fun,” she said, shaking her head. Soon enough, they’d be terrorizing the halls of the opera house again. “C’mon,” she said, linking her arm through Maureen’s. “We might as well catch up while I show you around.”
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Old 02-11-2011 at 08:24 PM
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Maureen Dawson

“Psh, they secretly miss me distracting you. At least we made rehearsals fun,” she chuckled, thinking that outlook was much more preferable to the reality of the situation. There was more than one person that was glad the two had been split up. Of course, now, they had to deal with she and Cameron, however, it was a different kind of distraction. They didn't usually make a scene during rehearsal. The difference between Cam and Madeleine was personality. Maureen and Madeleine were one in the same personality wise. Cameron was a little different. She wasn't one to be boisterous. “C’mon,” and Maureen was instantly moving toward Madeleine, opening her arm so the woman could slip her own arm inside, “We might as well catch up while I show you around.” Maureen grinned, “That sounds great.”

She was silent a moment, trying to remember the last thing that had been going on in Madeline's life before she left the Opera. She knew that Madeleine and Myron were, at that point and time, together, and always would, even if there were periods of time when they would split. Maureen felt they were one of those couples that would always come back to each other, for better or worse was up for them to determine. After all, she wasn't one to judge anyone's relationships. It was also no secret that Myron owned Moulin Rouge and since Madeleine was here, she assumed the two were doing fairly well even though lots could happen in a few months. She scrunched her nose at the fact that the first thing she went to when thinking about Madeleine before she left was her relationship status. Inner voice screaming to talk much? It was true, Maureen hadn't spoken to anyone about Cameron and she was basically about to explode with the need to tell someone anything about what was going on.

And like Maureen always did, not having much of a filter, she proceeded to ask exactly what was on her mind, “You said things were crazy? Well, enlighten me. What's been going on to make it that? How are you and Myron?”


I just wanna be alone now with the dark and the light. That's my favorite color blue there

As the sun sets in the sky, there's just something in the hue there in the corner of my eye
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Old 02-16-2011 at 10:22 PM
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Madeliene de Chandon

The dark-haired pair walked through the red-gold light of the Moulin Rouge. It looked so different by day as the cleaning crew scrubbed the wood floors and wiped down the bar. The chairs were turned up on top of the tables and no patrons hooted from the theatre seats. The occasional, stray dancer passed through the building and at one of the tables, two of the costume designers chatted quietly—no doubt trying to figure out the logistics of the twenty-five sparkler bras Madeleine requested for the next big number. To Madeleine, it was all familiar. The sights, the sounds—even the woman linked to her arm. And it was moments like this, when surrounded by the people and things she loved, that Madeleine truly thought of the Moulin Rouge as “home”. She smiled at Maureen, watching as the pianist took in the routine theatre sights and sounds. Maureen didn’t seem very focused on the operation of the Rouge and—honestly—Madeleine couldn’t blame her. A lifetime in the theatre had likely desensitized Maureen to the daily routine. It was, after all, the same in most theatres… Populaire included. Maureen’s face scrunched up a bit as she wrinkled her nose. There wasn’t really any particular displeasure on her face, but Maureen seemed to be thinking. Madeleine cocked her head.

“You said things were crazy?” Maureen asked. “Well, enlighten me. What's been going on to make it that? How are you and Myron?”

“I thought you would never ask!” Madeleine said with a grin and a laugh. “Well... November was rocky. But… Well… Speaking of rocks…”

Madeleine stopped and gingerly pulled her arm from Maureen’s she extended her left hand to her best friend. The diamond ring caught the light and flashed all sorts of colors.

“Crazy, right?”
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Old 03-20-2011 at 01:39 AM
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OOC: For Ashton. BIC:

Talin Chase

Talin was exhausted. As he followed the crowd into the famous Le Moulin Rouge he could not figure out why in the world he was even doing so in the first place. He would be smart if he were to just go back to his apartment and catch some sleep. It was already nearing midnight and his shift started about nine the next morning at the hospital. He could go back to his apartment and catch a good solid sven hours before he got up and prepared for his morning shift at the hospital. He was rather restless though. He supposed being back in Paris again was making him so. After spending almost every evening in out to dinner with colleagues in Chicago before his next shift he was missing the social aspect of his life. Not that he'd ever been extremely social, he did enjoy a drink with a colleague now again. Unfortunately he was not quiet back into the swing of work at either the Opera House or the hospital, at least not enough to befriend his colleagues. As it stood he was just trying to recover from jet leg and put in impossible hours so he could work his way up the totem pole. Pretty soon, as far as the hospital was concerned, he hoped to be heading a staff rather then apart of one. He would have more patients and less paperwork. He planned to do it before the year was out.

in the two years that he'd held residency in Paris he'd never visited the Moulin Rouge except for on one other occasion. He had been there to have a drink and had met a woman, alright so that sounded a bit of stating the obvious but he hadn't met a dancer, rather, a nurse that he'd had a pleasant conversation with. He wasn't sure what he would encounter tonight as he left his bag in the car and slipped his pager into the pocket of his suit jacket. He never went anywhere without it. Even though he guiltily hoped it would not go off this evening he put the volume up so he could hear it. He was on call every not, whether making rounds or not. He brushed a strand of his rather long hair behind his ear and pushed his way through the crowd as he entered the foyer. Many couples were mingling. He wasn't quiet sure whether they exclusive or temporary flings that would break up before the night was over. He turned away from a rather overly romantic couple that was pressed up against the wall and pushed past two businessmen who were standing chatting and eying two show girls that were obviously on break. Talin was not very interested in show girls... he just wanted a drink.
He caught a waiter who was making his way back to the bar and asked him for a shot of tequila on the rocks. Strong but he would not consume a lot... he had no intention of getting drunk this evening, plus he held his alcohol well.

It wasn't long before the waiter returned with his drink and he tipped him a couple euros. He did not have much on him considering he was getting his currency exchanged and it was a rather irritating process. At least for him. He watched as people mingled around him with absolutely no desire to get involved and determined to have his drink and then go home and catch a couple of hours of sleep. He was certain that everyone here would find him boring and then just leave him alone. That was his hope at least. He knew it wasn't likely, the odds were against him but Talin enjoyed the game a bit as he sipped his drink and swirled the liquid around in his mouth, allowing his taste buds to be tickled by the taste before he swallowed it and taking another sip. He drank, determined. Like a man determined to win plays poker... every drink was concise and exact. He had made it through half of his drink when he caught someone gazing at him from across the room. He ignored them and moved to another corner... avoiding the overly intoxicated and the entangled and entwined couples that seemed to have sought shelter here as well.. only half of a martini... it seemed Talin would make it home tonight after all.


Like the sound of silence calling I hear your voice and suddenly I'm falling lost in a dream
Like the echoes of our souls are meeting you say those words my heart stops beating
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