• •Leather and Lace

[Iliza Micah Mizenko]

Iliza had wanted a place to call her own since she'd moved to New York. She hated having to give someone else money to live in a crawl space. So when she'd gotten the inheritance, Iliza saw it as a good thing. It meant she was almost where she needed to be. She had saved what little money she could after rent and expenses and when that money came, put it all in savings and investment accounts and made sure the money was well over what she needed to do what she wanted with it. From there it was renovations, decorations and decisions and then her space was her very own. She'd worked her ass off to get Casablanca up and running. The Burlesque club was her pride and joy; her baby. What a difference a few months could make. Before she'd taken over and bought the place out, it had been a dive bar. Her favourite in town but it was still a mess with only the scariest looking people daring to venture through the frosted doors. Now, well, things were certainly different and the clientele had most definitely improved.

She was proud of the place that she'd created on her own. It took so much time and effort and a couple missed days of office hours but she'd made it up to her students. Thankfully, she'd managed to keep the two halves of her life apart. It was all she needed for one, two or a group of her students to saunter into her club and recognise her either up on that stage or behind the bar slinging drinks. She wasn't always on the floor while the club was open. Sometimes she was upstairs in the office and sometimes, she was on the floor above, her personal space. The four floor building had been bought up dirt cheap because all the repairs that had needed to be taken care of. The previous owners gave her an excellent deal. In fact, they pretty much walked away with pennies compared to what the place had been really worth. But they wanted to retire and Iliza offered them a way out of the city. The entire space had been used for storage from what she could tell. The entire two floors or her apartment seemed like they were just full to the ceiling of old furniture that no one had a use for so it was left to be forgotten.

It had been easy to use some of it, sell bits of it and donate more of it than she'd even known had been up there in the first place. But what she got when it was all said and done had been exactly what she'd envisioned. And now, after all that time, it was one of the biggest hidden gems of the city. Iliza had figured it all out and was laughing now at how her had spent her portion of the money. Her sister, she knew had put some in savings, spent some on things she'd needed and kept the rest in the bank for a rainy day but their cousin had gone on a wild spree and had squandered what could have been easily lived on for years in a matter of months. She did good; and thought as much when she was standing in the space alone like she was now. She was waiting on the alcohol delivery that came this time every week. They were good, almost always on time and the driver usually called if he was going to be late whether it was because of traffic or another reason entirely. He always let her know. And he knew to hit the buzzer at the back to be let in, not bang on the front. Annoyed, Iliza grabbed the baseball bat that was always within reach behind the bar and waited. The front door was open, just on the off chance that she didn't hear the buzzer and poor Ricky had to come round front. When he left again, she usually locked it back up and disappeared through the door in the back that led upstairs to her office and then through the hidden door in her office that led up to her apartment. Realising it wasn't Ricky, Iliza gripped the bat tighter. "We're closed for another hour." She said, waving with her free hand the direction from which this person had come. She couldn't see who it was clearly yet, they were still back by the hallway that led to the doors but she was clear enough in her tone. Even her employees wouldn't start showing up for another thirty minutes! She wanted this time alone to get her head on straight before she had to play boss.

Tag || @open!
Words || 793
Clothes || Bad Ass Bartender
Music || Hell Raisin' Good Time --Tim Hicks
Notes || <3!

[thane vexen lefebvre]

They always told him that there was no rest for the wicked, and Thane was starting to believe them. He was two weeks away from wrapping on his current horror flick, which ought to hit the screens in time for the Halloween rush. He wasn’t about to kick back and take a trip to somewhere exotic and sunny though. He had a week and a bit before he was right back in and due to start with the pre-production details on the next movie he had put his name to. It was a sequel, which was something Thane usually kept away from; he thought ridiculous movie series were the death of modern day cinema. This was different though, and had originally come in the form of a trilogy which he had fallen in love with and thrown himself into, vowing to fight off anyone else who showed an interest in the director’s chair for this series. There was so much mythology and originality being brought forward in the three parts with the first proving to be a huge success with the critics and the box office. Thane couldn’t wait to work on the rest, but he had squeezed this smaller budget movie in between the first and second because the writer was a close friend who he owed a favour to.

As well as being known for being one of the best horror directors in the business, Thane was also known amongst casts and crew for throwing the best kind of wrap parties. Sometimes they were at his home, full of props and memorabilia that a collector might go complete Annie Wilkes for. Other times he hired out booths or the venues that he considered his favourite places to go. It depended on the scale of the production, how many people would be there, and their type. If they were likely to wreck a place and get black out drunk he would rather them have a bed and be able to tip a cleaning crew generously to sort his own home out. If they were much more socially behaved he liked to open a tab behind a bar and let them drink the night away and enjoy some local entertainment. It was extremely rare that he got to shoot a movie in New York City. Studios never seemed to want to pay for it, or places weren’t too keen on Thane plastering their walls with fake blood and homemade gore. A small production, taking up a warehouse space though had been different. He had been able to sleep in his own bed and tell everyone the best places to get the food they craved.

It also meant that their wrap party would be at Casablanca. He was familiar with the owner and had tried to buy her a drink a few times before now. The burlesque was his favourite haunt when he was home, and he had kept it quiet enough to know that none of the movie crew had been there during the filming. Since they were filming at night for the next few days, he figured he’d swing by the club to pay in the deposit he’d promised Iliza before he went to the set. There were a few hours before he was due there. The door to Casablanca was open when he arrived, though everything still looked closed up. He moved inside, calling out once but there was no response, so he moved further and then he saw and heard the familiar figure. “It’s just me. Thane? I’m here to drop off that deposit I owe you.” He pulled the envelope out of his jacket and shook it at her before he moved closer. “That bat looks good on you.” He smirked, offering Iliza the envelope. He couldn’t blame her for being careful in a city like New York, but he also couldn’t resist a small joke since he was harmless. “Can I get a drink while you count it out?” He figured she’d want to check it over, make sure everything she’d told him she’d need was there. It was the sort of thing he’d do, anyway.

• • •

TAGGED! Iliza Micah Mizenko
WORDS! 697!
OUTFIT! Horror Hunk!
LYRICS! Mercenary - - - Panic At The Disco
NOTES! Why waste this when we’d be starting a new one anyway?!

[Iliza Micah Mizenko]

Casablanca hadn't always been Iliza's dream. She had always wanted a place of her own, something she owned and took care of. It never had to be a club but that was exactly what it had turned out to be. And Casablanca was the Bulgarian's baby. Everything about the club screamed Iliza and she chose everything down to even the smallest detail. She wanted it to be a place for everyone to enjoy while also being exclusively hers. She liked that people wanted to rent the space for this and that and happily allowed that to happen; for a price. She wasn't in the business of charity, even if she knew to pay it forward and did in fact give money to a couple different charitable organizations. She was a big believer in Karma and she wanted hers to be good. Especially considering her temper and attitude could take over rather quickly and strongly. But she was more than that. And more often than not, she was actually pretty laid back. She treated her employees well but she also pushed them hard to perfect their routines. This wasn't some dog and pony show. Casablanca was an entertainment establishment and few were entertained by mistakes and slipups.

She hadn't heard any complaints from the girls or any of the bunch behind the bar though so she had to have been doing something right. And she would keep doing what she was until she heard something. The clientele were a surprisingly loyal bunch and she was always seeing new faces taking up spaces at the tables or the bar. Iliza really loved that. She felt like she was doing something good. She might not have been contributing to the world like her parents were, not as wholeheartedly anyway but she has doing her part in that department and in making her own dreams come true. Of course no one at Casablanca knew she was history professor and no one at the university knew she owned the burlesque club that seemed to be the talk of the town. Only her accountant knew and she was going to keep it that way for as long as possible. She'd been doing good for a few years now so she didn't see a problem in that trend continuing. Either way, she had a secure future, even if the though did bring a panic attack on.

Iliza knew cutting deliveries to the wire like this wasn't a good thing but she'd had a class that ran late because questions were abound and answers needed to be given. Lucky for her, the driver who always delivered for her was one of those loyal patrons and she had his mobile number tucked away for the days she was running late. He didn't know why and had only ever asked the one time but her answer must have been sufficient because he left it alone after that. She wouldn't have worried too much about it if there had been a rehearsal, then her manager would have been around but she hadn't even thought to tell them to come in just in case. She had thought there would be plenty of time. Life lesson; and one she probably wouldn't learn. There was no doubt in Iliza's mind she would do it again. Thane's visit was definitely a surprise but a good one. She knew he was going to be stopping by at some point before the night he'd booked it for his party, but she genuinely figured he would just find her during the night. She let go of the angry façade she wore like a second skin whenever she thought there might be the slightest bit of trouble and put the bat down with a laugh. "It's my favourite accessory." She teased, automatically pulling the right glass and pouring the right drink, even as Thane asked. "Did you really have to ask?" She returned with a grin as she set the drink on a napkin. She picked up the envelope, even as she grabbed a glass and started on her own drink, single handed.

Tag || thane vexen lefebvre !
Words || 684
Clothes || Bad Ass Bartender
Music || Hell Raisin' Good Time --Tim Hicks
Notes || <3!

[thane vexen lefebvre]

Thane could think of no better career than dedicating time to his passion. He had always been a horror buff even before he found himself in that director’s seat, demanding that actors give him more, or shouting for the crew to fix the set or adjust the lighting. He couldn’t see himself sitting there and watching a happy-go-lucky romantic comedy come together before his very eyes, or get the details right for an explosive and dramatic action hit. He worked best with the dark, gory and suspenseful. That didn’t stop journalists asking him if he would ever try anything new or different. Thane only ever chuckled at the question before replying with another question; why would he turn his back on what he was good at for something he might suck at? So many articles had that printed in there now, but Thane didn’t think they would ever stop prodding him about it, no matter what he said.

He didn’t rise to public demands, and half of the time he didn’t listen to a lot of the criticism of his movies. It only worked to made him angry, to annoy him when people missed the point of what he was trying to achieve. It was easier for him to keep pushing on, to pick his next movie to sign onto, and work with the next cast and crew that came along. Thane wasn’t the type to answer to people, and even studio executives had a hard time sometimes bringing Thane around to their way of thinking. If he had an idea in his mind then he wanted to stick to his guns and go with it, not soften it down and edit out the gore to fit a rating, or please the audience the studio was targeting. Thankfully, by now, Thane had made a name for himself and most people knew what they were letting themselves in for when they hired him, or asked him to come on board for a project.

It wasn’t like Thane was a bad guy or something of a diva. He just wasn’t going to put his name to something he didn’t believe in, or something that was sloppy. He had a reputation and he wasn’t going to tarnish the reputations of those he worked with; they could do that themselves if they wanted to. Plus, he took care of his cast and crew. He made sure that they had what they needed on set, be it in a studio or on location somewhere, and when all was said and done he made sure they got to celebrate and say their goodbyes in top fashion. This time was no different. Besides, he liked to party as much as the next man. That was another thing his reputation could prove. He might be spooky, but he did it with a drink in his hand and a glitterball behind him. “A girl’s got to have one. Usually it’s a necklace or a bag…” He joked with a half smirk. Thane moved through to take a seat on one of the high bar stools, resting on his elbows as he pulled the drink closer to his reach. “I figured I’d give being polite a go, rather than being presumptuous.” He replied, raising the glass to his mouth and taking a long sip. It was never too early to enjoy life, as far as he was concerned.

• • •

TAGGED! Iliza Micah Mizenko
WORDS! 572!
OUTFIT! Horror Hunk!
LYRICS! Mercenary - - - Panic At The Disco
NOTES!

[Iliza Micah Mizenko]

Iliza had been one of the luckier ones that she got to do all that she loved. She spent her days creating lesson plans and teaching the young minds of tomorrow what she already knew, in detail, about World History. She got to share the gory and gruesome tales of wars long past, the stories those countries really didn't want told because they were proof that harsh times called for harsh actions. And during the night, and her days not spent on campus, she ran the club she'd never thought she would own but found a calling for. It was nice to have a place that she could call her own that no one else had a say about. There was always someone demanding answers to her plans at the university, someone always shooting her down or telling her to change just a little bit of something. But at Casablanca, she was the boss, the only one to make the decisions. Sure she held meetings with her employees and they worked together to bring new ideas to the table but at the end of it all, she had the final say.

The club was her baby, her passion and there was nothing that she wouldn't do to make it work for her. She had loved the concept even before she'd really had an idea about the finer details and then it all came to be and the place had a surprising loyal clientele. When the club was open, she saw some regular faces in the crowds when she was behind the bar, mixing drinks and even more when she was up on that stage performing. It was a thrill all its own to realize her pass had a fan base. Most of her business was word of mouth, the less people know the more interested they become after all and Iliza had wanted to take advantage of that. More recently she'd been letting it drop that there was a couple social media accounts open, Twitter and Instagram, both occasionally offering little tidbits about the place. A ladies night here, two for one drinks there. They were little things and they would be few and far between but it also gave her clientele a way to spread the word of Casablanca and Iliza was thrilled by that idea. She wanted her club to succeed more than she wanted to teach! And she had always wanted to be like her parents. Always.

Iliza's grin was wicked as she shrugged her shoulder. "Those things are nice, too. But I'm fond accessories that can do damage should I ever need it to." She told him with a chuckled knowing if he ever saw her wardrobe he would find a wall dedicated to shoes alone and real accessories were just as shocking! She was financially stable enough to indulge if something happened to catch her eye. And she indulged quite often. "You're my best customer. You can be as presumptuous as you'd like." She told him with a laugh. Taking a sip of her drink, Iliza swept through the envelope quickly. She'd always been good with numbers and money and didn't need forever to make sure it's all there. "What night did you want again?" She asked, pulling her phone free to make a note of it on her calendar with one hand while simultaneously slipping the envelope into a little nook under the bar, next to the cash box.

Tag || thane vexen lefebvre !
Words || 575
Clothes || Bad Ass Bartender
Music || Hell Raisin' Good Time --Tim Hicks
Notes || <3!

[thane vexen lefebvre]

People had laughed when Thane said he would be a director. It seemed to be even more farfetched than someone saying they would be a rock star or a Hollywood actor. Teachers had encouraged him to come up with a sensible back up plan. They wanted to hear him say he would be just like them, or sit in an office wearing the same suit in three different colours for five days of the week. He never gave them what they wanted. Thane wasn’t going to lessen his ambition just in case his dreams never became a reality. If that had happened, he would have worried about that then. Thinking on the what ifs when he was seventeen probably would have gave him pause to slack off when his friends wanted to party, or an excuse to give up after one bad review or box office weekend. Now, his school counted him in their top alumni, frequently reaching out whenever something big was happening. He turned them down more often than he accepted mostly because he was busy with his career, but once or twice he had done it purely out of spite. After all, the first time he went to give a graduating class a speech it was full of how back up plans were excuses for failing and dreams should be chased after despite what faculty members thought of them. A few of his old teachers had been present for that one and Thane had wanted to make an impact.

It was often his way. He liked to make a statement. His movies were often known for their shocking moments, the twists no one saw coming, and the characters he wasn’t afraid to impale on a hook even if they were the hottest guy or girl Hollywood had that month. It went beyond his movies though. Thane threw lavish parties because he liked to. He liked to socialise with friends, to celebrate. He didn’t enjoy the camera and the microphones of the red carpet events, or skirting around the gossip vultures whenever the magazines were fishing for the latest rumours about someone he had worked with or knew as a close friend. They would hound anyone and everyone for a story, not caring one iota about privacy. Thane wasn’t like that though. He liked to put on an appearance when necessary and then be his private self when he stepped away from all that. His private self didn’t want to have to worry when he grabbed lunch with someone he had known for half a dozen years, worked with twice, but saw often enough to know the intimate details of their life. He was entitled to friendships, be the person famous or not.

Thane chuckled softly, running his fingers over the stubble on his jaw. “Remind me not to let you close to one of my sets. I imagine something will go missing.” He teased. Nearly all of the props were harmless. Weapons were fake, but looked deadly. There were a few though, that could cause real harm if not handled properly. Mostly they were for the stunt team, or effects that just looked terrible and cringe-worthy when the fake props were used. “You flatter me. I’m just a man who enjoys a good drink and the right company.” He grinned, watching Iliza count the cash. “Last Friday in the month. We wrap that week, so I’m sure everyone will enjoy emptying your bar.”

• • •

TAGGED! Iliza Micah Mizenko
WORDS! 582!
OUTFIT! Horror Hunk!
LYRICS! Mercenary - - - Panic At The Disco
NOTES! Why waste this when we’d be starting a new one anyway?!

[Iliza Micah Mizenko]

Growing up Iliza thought she'd end up just like her parents, working as an educator in some capacity and nothing more than that. She had always wanted to be a professor, teaching history, there had been nothing else that she'd ever dreamed of. It was always getting that degree to teach university students. Iliza hadn't had a back up plan because she hadn't known anything else. And then she'd picked up work to fill her time away from classes and to add a little money to her pockets. It wasn't until then that she found another path to follow. It all seemed to easy now that it was all said and done but back when it had just been a possible dream, t had seemed impossible. And now only a few short years later, Casablanca was one of the hottest clubs in the city. Every night had a line the length of the building, something Iliza had never even thought could happen. It made her think about looking into another club. Maybe not Burlesque but definitely not just another dance club. There were already too many of those in the city. No, whatever it was going to be, it needed to be something fresh, something different.

Not that it mattered. At the moment it was just a thought, the small beginnings of an idea. Plus she would have to do all that between her classes and office hours; which wouldn't actually be the hardest thing about the whole process since she'd done it once before. And it would be yet another place where hiding her day job was a requirement. Technically, there was nothing in her contract with the school that said anything about outside income but Iliza thought a Burlesque club still might be frowned upon; even if it was all above board. What people got up to after their work was done shouldn't be anyone's business. As long as it didn't interfere, and her club definitely did not, then Iliza didn't see a big deal. Of course, she also owned a night club, so she was a little more laidback than most, probably.

Iliza smiled as she shook her head at Thane. "More than a something I'd bet." She teased though in all honesty, she probably would. She'd never been on a film set before and all that glamour and fun would need a perfectly suitable souvenir to remind her of the fond memories whenever she set her eyes on it. She wasn't overly sentimental but there were little things scattered around her apartment that held memories that were close to her and those were the things that she loved the most. She could get new clothes and shoes, she could replace all her furniture if she needed to but it was the little silly things that were priceless to the blonde. "Lucky for you, you get both here." She said with a grin. She mixed a damn good drink and she liked to think she was fabulous company; as long as no one got her started on her other love. "I'll make sure to call in a double order for that week then." Iliza said, more to herself then to Thane but saying it out loud to cement it in her mind. She added the same words as a note in the calendar before saving the date. It was a night she would only keep her best bar staff on hand.

Tag || thane vexen lefebvre !
Words || 574
Clothes || Bad Ass Bartender
Music || Hell Raisin' Good Time --Tim Hicks
Notes || <3!