OOC:

http://community.livejournal.com/breakerstreet/profile

Peter has launched a fan-site for Breaker Street, the rock band led by Rory Stone (fey_fire). You know, the one Pippa Kerr (sand_andwater) never shuts up about? That one. Completely fictional band, complete with NPC members to back Rory up. Don't bother googling the song titles, the mun made them up.

Here's the meta-fun part:

Rory doesn't know about the site as yet. Peter's not going to tell him because well, hey...land of awkward at the moment. However, I have set up the lj comm to serve as a faux website for the band. No new posts will be made, the existing ones will be edited as needed.

If you have NYC based muses that may have seen the band play anywhere (I have club listings eve, I'm handy that way) feel free to let your characters fan-girl or pan the band. Seriously. And you don't have to join the comm to comment. You don't even have to be logged in. I honestly don't care. Chaos in the message board is welcome. (Well not by the muse, but who cares).

I, along with Rory's mun do have a few lulz up our sleeves for the mock-message board and the website will end up being something that drives Peter nuts...Pippa too.

Just a heads up as to what my muses will be referencing from time to time. Feel free to join in or rubberneck.

[Locked to John Larch and Rory Stone]

ooc: Takes place after this conversation and was co-written with badass_charger and is going to be an ongoing storyline that will affect far more than just Pippa. The bulk of it will play out in this journal but may likely be referenced by some of my other muses as well as fey_fire and his family members. WARNING: At times this story will be graphic and grisly. John Larch is a serial killer and he means business. This is not going to be a nice story, feel free to skip over these posts. All of them will be cut for content.

I've done ugly things and I have made mistakes
(Garbage – ‘Why Do You Love Me?’)

Monday night, late and she was tired. Last Call had the usual end of summer crowd as local college kids sought out one more hurrah before getting back to the grind of studying and the routine of a new semester. Pippa had been kept busy right through to closing with orders, placating customers and dealing with a minor snafu with the band. She loved the work, enjoyed the usually great music but there were times when the act booked happened to be people she didn’t care for off the stage. Small-time divas were exhausting.

It was with that thought the redhead pulled the heavy doors to the establishment closed, put the key into the lock and turned until she heard the tumblers click. Oh, finally…now to go home. Her car was parked at just a few feet from where she stood as she considered home. Her dog. A hot shower. Call Ro. Bed. What she didn’t consider was the man leaning against the hood of the Volkswagen Beetle. Pippa didn’t notice the dark haired, bright-eyed man until she reached out a hand to open the passenger side door, put her purse inside.

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