Give You Comfort • •

[marlowe kendrick de fleur]

Every single time Marlowe wound up at O’Malley’s it was a guarantee that he would end up sitting at the old, beaten up piano in there, his drink resting on top while he led an ever growing group in a sing-a-long. Piano Man would always be requested, along with several other classics, and something no one had ever heard of aside from Charlie, but he sang loud enough to make up a group. Marlowe was a skilled pianist, paid half of his bills with his craft, but it was not with drunken sessions in O’Malley’s bar. No, he was paid to dress nicely, perform some jazz pieces or original work that he had written himself, at high end clubs and bars in New York. Still, if someone asked him honestly, he would say that he preferred the loud off key singing that accompanied his fingers gliding over the keys at the Irish pub. There was more atmosphere there, and people appreciated what was happening around them. Too many dark, overly priced clubs had people who didn’t care about the music. They were just there to socialise and pay far too much for a cocktail they could get for half the price a few blocks away. Still, Marlowe was not in a position to turn down paying work.

He'd let the expensive places pay him to play, but O’Malley’s was fun, and just another part of his nights out with friends. It also stopped him drinking himself into a stupor, which meant he got to be the one who remembered all the silly things his buddies did and torment them about it when they were nursing their hangovers. He considered that to be a bonus. It also comes in wonderful for anecdotes on the podcast they record together. Marlowe thinks it’s good to inject a little of their personal lives into the lively debates and geeky chatter, just so it seems like they are real people and not just anyone at all on the other end of the microphone. Stories, he feels, make them more relatable. People can laugh at their own similar experiences, or just laugh at how stupid they happen to be from time to time. They’re grown men who happen to act like teenage boys more often than they should probably admit.

“I need a drink!” He shouted over the protests as he pushed himself up from the piano stool. He’d return before the night was over. To fill the void, Perri turned up the speakers again, and Marlowe smiled her way in thanks. It would placate the crowd for a little while so he could get a refill of his scotch and soda, and maybe even be so bold as to take a bathroom break. He was only human after all; he needed to stretch from time to time. Squeezing through the Friday night crowd, Marlowe put in his order at the bar and told Sammy he’d be right back. Figuring he’d nip to the bathroom while he could, Marlowe made a quick trip there and back, accidentally bumping into someone as he tried to avoid doing just that as he came back upon the bar. “I’m so sorry. Please tell me you didn’t have a drink in your hands.”

• • •

TAGGED! Poppy Lexa Hatter
WORDS! 547!
OUTFIT! Manly Man!
LYRICS! Rule Of Thirds Kind Of Life - - - The Rocket Summer
NOTES!

[Poppy Lexa Hatter]

Poppy had never really been the good girl her parents had expected her to be, just like she hadn't done what they'd wanted and expected of her. She was supposed to be some stay at home crafter, knitting and crocheting things for the household, keeping a house a home for some man she was meant to live with and spend forever with. She had been eighteen when she tossed all of that in the trash can and decided to be the biggest rebel her family had ever seen and go to school, get a degree in something that could be transferable should she ever decide being an animal trainer wasn't what she wanted anymore. Plus she had her little café to keep her busy. But her entire life couldn't revolve around school, work and her very own bird of prey or so her more adventurous friends kept telling her. She was twenty two now and could count on one hand how many times she stepped foot in an actual bar or club.

It wasn't that it didn't interest her, the concept and atmosphere did of course but she was a vet student and she actually owned a business; she didn't have the time to spare between those things and the fact that she was a Hatter, owned a hawk and movie studios were constantly calling her to see IG she wouldn't mind bringing her little Chester to this set or that one. She didn't mind of course, she loved going to movie sets and checking out what's going to be hitting theatres in the next year but it all left little time for proper socialising. She had people she trusted at the café which is the only reason she finally agreed to this night out. Wren wasn’t someone to be turned down and she would only accept a decline so many times before she decided for you. Poppy reached that point but instead of hating it, she appreciated it all. Every girl needed to let her hair down every once in a while and this was a wake up call to do it more often. She needed a social life just as much as she needed passing grades and impressive essays.

She couldn't say that she wasn't having any fun because she definitely was. She got out so little it was always a surprising and fun experience when she did finally decide to paint the town red. The only part that ever took a while to get used to and if she were being completely honest with herself, she still wasn't used to men approaching her. She had surprisingly, lived a shelters life in California. There were a few boys, she hadn't been locked in a tower or fitted with a chastity belt but high school boys were a hell of a lot different from grown men. For one, their moves certainly improved. Poppy found herself a couple times knee deep in a conversation before she realised he was just some sort of pick up artist looking for a number he would never call; not that it would be a real number. She wasn't stupid. She might never get used to that part of a night out but she did become accustomed to being "accidentally" bumped into. Poppy probably wouldn't have even registered the bump if someone hadn't spoken to her, apologising for it. She turned, blinking up at the man who spoke to her, trying to get her brain to register what he said. It took her a couple seconds longer than she would have preferred but the instant they did, a smile spread across her red painted lips. "Nope. No harm, no foul." She told him with a soft laugh.

♦ ♦ ♦

Tag || marlowe kendrick de fleur
Words || 622
Clothes || Coming soon!
Music || Good For You --Smash Cast
Notes || <3

[marlowe kendrick de fleur]

Marlowe had been fascinated with music ever since he had fallen in love with that old piano when he was six. The instrument still took up a large space in his apartment, and showed the wear and tear of years of love and commitment to the craft. There were faint scratches from moving, and marks he hadn’t been able to get out from the rich wood, but he couldn’t say where they had come from. Not that Marlowe could ever complain. That piano had been his for over twenty years now. It was his baby, his pride and joy, and there were far too many memories of his old neighbours slamming on the walls when he got too loud. His first apartment had not exactly been built for a musician, but rather a poor dreamer who still had a lot to learn about New York and – apparently – plumbing.

Things were different now. He had an apartment now with more reliable plumbing. His walls were thicker, and his neighbours didn’t so much mind if they overheard a tune or two in the early evenings. They were nicer people who invited him over for dinner every now and then, and collected his mail for him when Marlowe was heading home to visit his parents for a few days. They were understanding people; the kind Marlowe had hoped to meet in New York City. In turn, he did his best to help them out when he saw them moving furniture, or bringing up the groceries. They’d even been to a couple of the nights at the lounges when Marlowe had been booked to play.

Still, he doubted he’d ever see them in O’Malley’s on a night like tonight. The place was a little too rowdy for their tastes, and the drinks came a little too freely, too. Marlowe, however, adored the little Irish pub, which was why he always loved coming here with his friends, even if he did spend more time on the piano stool than he did actually talking with them. He saw plenty of them at other times, too, so it wasn’t like they never hung out or only saw each other once in a blue moon. They were lucky to all still live in the city and have lives that meant they could see each other weekly. It wasn’t something the pianist took for granted. He looked over the woman he had crashed into, to be certain for himself that she wasn’t wearing her drink or clutching an elbow or anything. Then a cheeky smirk crossed his boyish features. “Are you sure? I don’t want you going back to your friends to tell them all about the gigantic asshole who practically knocked you over now.” He joked, laughing to show that he wasn’t being serious. He had, however, had the unfortunate experience of meeting women who didn’t quite ‘get’ his sense of humour and ended up screaming at him as though he had offered to murder their favourite pet.

• • •

TAGGED! Poppy Lexa Hatter
WORDS! 502!
OUTFIT! Manly Man!
LYRICS! Rule Of Thirds Kind Of Life - - - The Rocket Summer
NOTES!

[Poppy Lexa Hatter]

Poppy had never thought she would find herself in New York growing up. Not since she was already surrounded by what she wanted to do when she was all grown up. And then she learned of more options in high school and decided to be the real rebel of the family and move across the country to pursue a degree. Reality was that becoming a proper veterinarian would actually be beneficial to Poppy's long term goals. She wouldn't have to pay someone else to take care of her ailing animals, she could do it all on her own. Costs of vet bills could be completely outrageous and with cutting out the middleman, Poppy could save thousands and put that money into other sectors of her businesses. Her father seemed quite proud that Poppy had plans and ideas and knew exactly what she wanted from life. Her brothers and sister didn't go much further than the basics for what they wanted to do but Poppy had always been the one who took those extra steps to get ahead. And it wasn't because she wanted to show up her brothers, though she did, it was because she saw the bigger picture and knew it would help her.

Being a trainer would always be her first love and everything else would come second. Though the amount of work she'd put into turning Hatter's into what it was wouldn't go unnoticed either. She loved the tea shop almost as much as she loved the animals she worked with. She probably spent just as much time there as she did with animals. At least there were people at the tea shop that did things like talk her into going out for the night instead of sprawling on the couch at home, catching up on whatever shows she'd missed that week whilst doing her homework or reading through the next couple of chapters of her text books. Well, now she didn't really have that homework or textbook catch up to do since she'd graduated already. She hadn't told anyone at the café because she hadn't thought it was really worth mentioning. She should have known better and the second they found out, it was a trip out for them; no getting out of it.

Poppy had been okay with that since she didn't actually go out much. She liked staying in and training Chester or doing something else. She spent a lot of nights after closing up Hatter's heading out to a set with Chester, getting him ready for his close up. Tonight appeared to be less of a one off and more of something that was going to turn into a weekly ritual. "Well if you don't want to be the asshole who knocked me around, you could always be the gentleman who bought me a drink instead." She pointed out with a brazen grin. She was by no means the sweet girl people thought she was because they knew her from the café. Poppy was a big flirt and never saw a reason for being subtle about it.

♦ ♦ ♦

Tag || marlowe kendrick de fleur
Words || 514
Clothes || Beautiful Barista!
Music || Good For You --Smash Cast
Notes || <3

[marlowe kendrick de fleur]

Marlowe sometimes looked in the mirror and had to check he was actually an adult. He was a Julliard graduate, but he still got excited planning his costume for ComicCon, making sure that whatever he was preparing was going to be better than the one from the year before. His weekly podcast with his friends was a semi-popular hit. It was supposed to be the place where he could geek out and allow himself to be openly passionate about his nerdy hobbies. It didn’t start and end there though. People could be surprised though when they got to know Marlowe and they realised the sophisticated pianist was just someone who was paid a pretty amount to work a few of the expensive lounges in the city. Music was a love of his, but it was only one of them. The rest of the time he was a chatty goofball. It was why he felt like he belonged in New York City more than anywhere else in the world.

Here he could walk down one street of classical piano music, but then two minutes later he was surrounded by classic sci-fi memorabilia, and plenty of people who loved it just as much as he did. Marlowe loved that there was so much range in the city. Whatever mood he woke up in there was something to suit it. It wasn’t like he could ever complain about being bored in a city like New York. Everything he wanted was within walking distance of his apartment. He had reliable gigs that helped to pay his way, and his position at Starbucks helped him with his caffeine fix without making it seem like he had any kind of addiction to the stuff. If he didn’t work there he feared he would be such a frequent customer that the staff on several branches would know his name.

At least at O’Malley’s he was known for playing the piano and not his drink order. The latter would have been worrisome and more than a little embarrassing. He was already feeling bad for bumping into someone when he had tried so hard not to. Marlowe chuckled, glancing down at his shoes before looking back at the pretty girl before him. “I’m not too sure about being a gentleman, but if it’s alright with you I can be the goofball who buys you a drink?” He proposed, a lopsided, boyish smirk across his lips. He was already on his way back to the bar when his clumsy accident had happened. Going there and buying a good looking girl a drink wasn’t something he was afraid to do, but if she was choosing to spend a few minutes in his company then he’d rather she know the truth about him. Marlowe was a silly but talented man. He could dress the part and seem like one of the smartest men in the room, but in truth he was more likely to be able to out trivia the room on Star Wars than he was to out culture them all.

• • •

TAGGED! Poppy Lexa Hatter
WORDS! 512!
OUTFIT! Manly Man!
LYRICS! Rule Of Thirds Kind Of Life - - - The Rocket Summer
NOTES!

[Poppy Lexa Hatter]

Poppy loved New York City with the passion of someone who didn't grow up there. It was that wide-eyed love of a place you'd only visited a dozen times but wish was home. In most cases, the rose coloured glasses came off and people started to become jaded by the beautiful city. That wasn't the case for Poppy. Probably because she didn't actually live in the city. She commuted every day for school or for the café and instead lived just outside the city on s large plot of land. She needed the space for the plans she had for her future. As much as Poppy loved the café, she didn't want to run it forever. She had an incredible staff keeping it alive and thriving when she wasn't there so she had absolutely no worries about the place burning down. But Poppy had always seen herself following in her father's footsteps and expanding on that. She wanted to care for falcons and hawks and other birds of prey but she wanted to really care for them, not just train them.

Poppy had been a falconer for so long that she knew everything. Being a trainer had never lost its appeal but she wanted more out of it. She didn't want to have to call someone in to care for her animals, she wanted to do it all herself; which is why she was working so hard in the veterinary programme. Being a female falconer was hard enough, though she had her name and family reputation backing her up. She knew she would have to prove herself more worthy of this next stage than anything she'd done before because she was the first in her family to do it. It all meant there was little time for anything else except she needed to be able to pay her bills, money from movies only went so far and she'd already dipped into it quite a bit to buy the farmland, take care of school and the café. There was still some but she needed to have some in the bank for a rainy day, in case some emergency came up that she couldn't avoid. It all also meant that she didn't get a lot of time to get out on the town, enjoy the city's nightlife or remind herself that she was still very young. Poppy might have been driven to succeed but she was still a baby compared to many in her all her lines of work.

Without her friends, Poppy would probably have spent all her time doing something associated with work. But she had contractors working on the farm, which meant she couldn't be out there, and a good group of employees at the bakery so she didn't need to be there all the time either and school only took up so much time in a day. Poppy's eyes lit with amusement. "Ahh, so you want to be the Hare to my Hatter for a moment or two, do you? I can get behind that. What are you drinking?" She asked with a grin. She wasn't much of a drinker, didn't usually go out so she never really had a preference for her own libations and because of that, she was easily able to mix up her drinks and still wake up in the morning without a ridiculous headache.

♦ ♦ ♦

Tag || marlowe kendrick de fleur
Words || 561
Clothes || Beautiful Barista!
Music || Good For You --Smash Cast
Notes || <3

[marlowe kendrick de fleur]

New York was a place of eclectics. No one could walk down the street and see the same type of folk. There were people in suits mixed with tourists and fashion focused housewives. He saw himself in several colourful characters, and also in those who dressed in their finery for the late night lounges. Marlowe was so happy to have found a place where he could embrace every part of his personality without people looking at him twice, or whispering whenever he was a little louder than they were used to from him. His hometown hadn’t been an unfriendly place for him growing up, but it was small and as he got bigger it became a tiny dot on a large map. He wanted more, which was why he had left. He had found Julliard, and a city that lived on music and dreams. Hell, if that was enough to pay the way then Marlowe would be in a penthouse apartment with the best views from every window. Instead he had a medium sized place that took a chunk of his money every month in rent. He didn’t want the riches and the luxury though – at least not all the time. It was nice on occasion, but he was happier doing what he loved. He’d rather make music than be in a job that drained his soul and ate away at his insides like some festering disease.

The piano was his oldest friend. He knew every note and key like it was second nature. Getting comfortable and letting his fingers dance across the ivory was often like coming home all over again. Some pieces took him back to practicing in his father’s shop, stumbling over the melody with untrained fingers. Others had him flying through his memories, reliving the best (and every now and then the worst) moments of his life. He had never wavered in his devotion to the instrument, not even when he was struggling through beginner’s pieces, or tempted by ‘cooler’ things when he was a teenager. The piano was his one constant when all other things changed. His favourite colour had stopped being orange, his old TV shows were replaced with newer, more exciting dramas. The piano could never be replaced though. He was confident of that when he was a child and he was even more firm with it now. It was his heart being shown to the world, his passion and devotion.

Marlowe glanced back at the bar where Sammy started waving once he caught his eye. His drink was ready. “Scotch and soda.” He said, lifting the glass when it was placed in front of him. “So, what’ll it be for you?” He asked, wanting to make the most of his break before he was summoned back to the piano with another request. He felt like it would be rude to just rush off, even if he was only rushing to the piano on the other side of the bar.

• • •

TAGGED! Poppy Lexa Hatter
WORDS! 501!
LYRICS! Rule Of Thirds Kind Of Life - - - The Rocket Summer
NOTES!