05.28.3013: A "Danger"-ous Plan
Summary: Drake, Letha and Jane meet to discuss and begin planning for a global gala.
Date: 28 May 2013
Related: None
Drake Jane Letha 

The Violet Siren, The Westend - Imperius
The entrance into the Violet Siren gives the illusion of a squat, round building with very little character or flair. It is only when one walks through the ellipse-shaped tunnel, under the glowing black lights, do they realize that the Violet Siren is far more than it seems. The foyer is at the top level of a vast silo that tunnels underground for several stories. Its transparent-composite floors look down through the various mezzanines ringing the interior of silo all the way to the expansive dance floor at the bottom. A series of staircases hug the walls of the cylinder, leading patrons past balconies that supply seating away from the loud thumping and madness of the dance floor and a series of bars to wet ones whistle.

The entire lower level is nothing but dance floor with platforms to provide varied elevation to the bumping, grinding, and thrashing of the vigorous dancers. Scantly-clad waitresses maneuver carefully through the dancers with shotglass vials of neon-colored liquor.

28 May 3013

Drake is not a businessman. If he were, he probably would have chosen somewhere quiet, dignified, and he would be wearing something besides a black leather jacket. But he spent enough time on the wording of the invitation to get it past the first layer of security around Miss Jane Wyre. Dropping Letha's name, however much it undoubtedly galled the 'great' Drake Danger, probably didn't hurt. The message mentioned a desire to speak about a possible opportunity to increase the morale of the people of Imperius while also making a fair return on investment. At least Drake is professional enough to have selected one of the booths with sound-dampening equipment for the meeting, so he won't have to shout. If the actress ever shows up.

Arriving fashionably late - that is Jane's modus operandi. She has in tow her bubbly (and sometimes klutzy) assistant, Willow, who exchanges words with the club's hostess while Jane stands with crossed arms and studies the interior of the club. It looks much different during the daytime, or at least it looks different when one's mind is not addled by booze and drugs. Once Willow has secured the location of Drake's booth, she leads the actress back toward the table.

As she passes the barrier into the sound-treated seating area, Jane heaves a sigh of relief. One can only tolerate the overwhelming whump-whump of a hoppin' club when they're actually in the mood to do so. "Mister Danger," she greets, pausing beside the table to gaze at the singer with a carefully neutral expression. He was, after all, witness to her indulging in some terribly compromising behavior. "I hope you are doing well today."

Letha is the last to arrive, though she does this entirely because she has just met a deadline, and her editor kept her back to compliment her on recent piece. It has put her in a rather good mood as she enters the club, waving to the hostess who knows her because, well, she also works here. She has pinned up her golden curls with a pair of sticks, some blonde bouncing against her cheeks. She is already enroute to the booth, as if she knows where she is going, and when she slips on in, she does so with a polite smile and nod to both the celebrities. "Miss Wyre, Mister Drake…"

Drake looks up from picking at the edge of the table when Jane and Willow arrive, starting to get up and then realizing he's at the back of a booth and can't stand up without — thunk — hitting his knee on the table. Ow. He winces, then drops back onto his seat, scrubbing his hair back from his face angrily and then putting on a smile that doesn't quite dimple his cheeks, "Please… have a seat. Ahhh, I don't know if you remember me from the other day, Miss Wyre…" and then Letha shows up, and he's distracted by gathering himself to try to stand again, thinking better of it and gesturing an invitation to all three women, "Letha. Sorry. I'll get right to it, ah, Miss Wyre. Me and Letha here had an idea yesterday, and she thought it'd be good to bring it to you first."

Jane listens silently, and although the corners of her mouth twitch when Drake fumbles his attempt at chivalry, she has the presence of mind to keep from laughing about it. Outwardly. When she slides onto the padded bench seat, Willow proceeds to settle in beside her. The assistance pulls out a tablet and sits poised, ready to take notes while the meeting is conducted.

The arrival of a fourth party causes the actress to look up, and the corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles genuinely at the journalist. "Letha dear, I'm glad to see you here. Your involvement has increased my curiosity. Go on, Mister Danger." While waiting for Drake to continue, Jane reaches up to motion a waitress in their direction and places an order for an extra dry martini.

Letha offers Drake a wide smile that rounds out her cheeks and sends a series of dimples at the corner of her mouth as she notices he might be about to bruise his other knee to greet her. She shakes her head a bit as she sits down beside Drake, smoothing her hands across her skirts as she crosses one leg over its twin beneath the table. "I thought it might interest you, and I wouldn't let you see this sort of opportunity go past." Plus, she's totally gunning for an exclusive.

Drake ruffles his hand back through his luxurious locks of hair, setting them a-tumble around his face, then stretches out his arms to either side along the back of the booth, regaining a bit of his cool despite the growing ache atop his knee. "So here's the pitch. 24 Hour Night of Partying. It's a series of concerts around Imperius that are all timed to go off one after the other, with just enough time to get through the nearest Waygate and onto a crawler to take you to the next concert. Get a few big names to headline, a couple up-and-coming outfits to fill out the ranks, some celebs to endorse it. Play up the patriotic angle, increase some morale… maybe it's the Night of Purple and Gold or something."

Jane crosses her legs at the ankle, tapping the heel of one boot against the toe kick beneath her bench. Her gaze drifts away from the pair as she follows their waitress' movements, obviously impatient to be drinking again. "24 Hour Night of Partying," she murmurs, echoing Drake's words as she turns back to look at him. One thin eyebrow arches upward. "Is this a benefit concert, then? Are we going to use the funds from ticket purchases for supporting our military, or—?"

The actress pauses, pursing her lips, and lets out a soft sigh. "Look, I think it's a good idea, and I'm pretty sure if you can swing it as a fundraiser, we can definitely get a lot of names to go pro-bono. I could even secure some start-up from the HAG coffers if I've got the paperwork for a non-prof benefit." Before she continues, she exchanges a glance with Willow who offers a slight nod to confirm Jane's words. "Right, so is that what you had in mind, or did you just want it to be a planet-wide Imperius festival? I mean, you could do that, too. You might have a harder time getting people to sign on, though. The time is ripe for some excellent PR, and celebs are going to be looking to support charities."

Letha glances over toward Drake briefly before she looks back at Jane. "It would definitely be a fundraiser and benefits concert," the journalist confirms with a nod. "I would say that all artists have to be pro-bono, and that perhaps we even produce an album as a group with some pro-Haven songs that could still filter in support sales even after the concert is done." She smiles up at the waitress as the woman swoops in to drop off Jane's martini, a Sour Candy cocktail for Letha, and a beer for Drake. She does look at Willow for an order, but then filters off to give the group some privacy.

Drake blinks, "Oh. Yeah. Totally a benefit concert." Which is to say, he totally hadn't thought of that. "Everything but costs and band merch goes straight to the war effort. Totally." He brightens up again at Letha's suggestion, "Yeah, an album. I'm sure there are other bands working on fire-'em-up songs, this'd be a great place to debut them, and then release them later as part of everyone's own albums." Some of us here are still not-quite-starving artists. He gestures from Letha to Jane, "So, uh, Letha was suggesting the bankrolling, or at least the start-up cash, and maybe you've got connections to other artists around." He stops then, "Wait… you think some old lady'll bankroll the concert? You're not interested?" Someone evidently hasn't heard of H.A.G. yet.

Jane relaxes visibly as Letha confirms that it is, in fact, a fundraiser. This particular bit of information reduces the trouble and red tape of hosting a global gala by a fair amount. She smiles cheerfully, tracing a fingertip around the rim of her martini glass before picking it up to take a sip. Her lips smack together as the deliciously salty brew causes her tastebuds to tingle, and the pleasure encountered lights up her features with a degree more enthusiasm. Apparently alcohol is Jane's best friend.

"I am quite interested, Mister Danger, and thus I have volunteered my organization's money and staff resources to helping arrange this fete." Pause. "Oh." Jane barks out a quick laugh, shaking her head at Drake and sending her red curls bouncing about her shoulders. "H-A-G. Haven Actors' Guild. HAG. It's a club and semi-union for actors, musicians, and their techies. Letha, you have some strings that I know you can pull for this. I'm not going to be able to fund everything out of HAG coffers, because we're still fresh. I can probably convince my father to jump on board because of the cause, and I am sure he'll bring along some of his rich old cronies."

Letha flashes Drake a knowing wink once Jane has confirmed her interest, and she takes a sip from her own sweet cocktail that has a bit of sour sugar around its rim. She starts to grin at the confusion around H.A.G., but she totally knows that Jane's got this one, so she takes another swallow of her drink. Then she offers a bit of a nod of her head. "Yeah… I can get some of the Cindravale arts to contribute, and I'll talk to J.C. tonight when I'm at the Suffocant Hole concert."

Drake finally picks up his beer, letting the pint glass dangle from the fingers of his left hand as he leans back in the booth again, hooking his elbows along the backrest. He nods to Letha a bit at the wink, blowing out a bit of breath. The news from Jane about H.A.G. draws a slow nod, and he inquires with every indication of earnest honesty, "Isn't that a little insulting to musicians, Jane?" He probably should stick with 'Miss Wyre,' but that wouldn't be Danger-ous. "I mean, you're saying we should be part of something that's named after another profession entirely, yeah?" Finally, he brings his beer up to his lips to take a sip of the pale Landing brew, "If we can get the venues to donate the time, there shouldn't be much in the way of costs. I mean, what… crawlers for transport, set-up and tear-down, probably get some roadies to donate their services too." Sure, he's got the logistics of a local concert down, but a planet-wide one? Probably not.

Truth be told, this isn't the first time someone has become a little uppity about the name of the organization. Jane is rather prepared for it, and her reply is so quick that it's possible she's said it multiple times. "Then musicians should have put it together first," she murmurs, glancing down into her martini and using the olive-laden toothpick to stir the liquor in a circle. "Dues are the same, benefits are the same, equal amount of awards just for musicians. HAM-G did not have the same ring." And that's the end of it for her.

Looking back up to first Letha and then Drake, Jane squints and continues toying with the garnish to her drink. "That may work in some places, but not all venues are going to be so willing. It would be best to work up a proposal listing the flat rates we'll offer to the various businesses that will have to put in their time, but we can always include a carefully-phrased reminder that donating would be better for them in the long-run. It shouldn't be hard at all to collect layman volunteers to help with the manual labor. The prospect of meeting celebrities and attending concerts for free, even if they do have to work, is quite a draw for penny-pinchers or those not fortunate enough to afford the tickets. Or those who need service hours. I recommend that your people meet with mine, Mister Danger."

Letha smirks toward Drake a bit at the bit about H.A.G., and she just waves him off with a flourish of her fingers a bit. Then she glances back toward Jane and nods in agreement at her assessment of the details concerning the event. This is about where Letha's knowledge ends. She never really paid attention when her father was organizing events, so was just there to enjoy them. So she sips at her drink and lets the pair talk.

Drake shrugs off the explanation of why HAMG is indeed a horrible acronym, rifling his fingers through his hair once more and shaking it out. He nods slowly with Jane's description of her suggested next step, and one can almost see the water rising fast from neck level to mouth level, to nose level… he's very, very nearly in over his head. The last comment lets him laugh, however, "Hey… I am my people." He offers up that half-smirk that sends a dimple deep into one cheek, "And please, call me Drake. And yeah, we've been booking our own shows and organizing all that… we don't have people to do that, and I'm startin' to think I'm a little outta my league here." He casts that smirk over to Letha, "And no cracks about how I already was, please." Looking between all of the women, he inquires, "You think we should try to get a producer? Someone to donate their time to look into all this shit?"

"Isn't that why you asked me here? Or were you just looking for your first celebrity and potential bankroller?" Oops, let's hope Jane didn't actually uncover the real purpose for calling her to this meeting. The smile she offers Drake is a lazy one, and she takes a silent moment to pluck an olive off its toothpick using her teeth. Once she has chewed and swallowed, she gestures to Willow and murmurs, "Open my calendar." When her assistance nods, Jane looks back to Drake.

"As one of the headliners, Mister Danger, and some of the creative behind this enterprise, you should definitely participate in putting the whole thing together. Consider it a learning experience. You can even be my apprentice." Jane's smile widens a bit, and is almost Cheshire in nature by now. "When do I have time in my schedule for a meeting, Ms. Byrche?" The blonde assistant casts a wide-eyed look between Drake and Jane before thumbing through the electronic calendar. "Tomorrow, Miss Wyre, at eleven." The actress looks back to Drake. "Does that work with your schedule?"

"I don't have to tell you things you already know," Letha says with a sly smirk. Then she looks over toward Jane as she pulls a tablet out of her bag so she can start to take a few notes. She glances up at Drake's more reasonable question, and her gaze tilts toward Jane with an arch of those blondie brows. "I could see if we could do some publicity in El-El, though that is definitely not my department. I'm just here to cover the event." Which means, yes, she will be staying up for 24-hours to follow the crowds, chasing the dawn as it were. She does glance between the pair as arrangements are made, and she's curious if Drake has figured out how to keep his own schedule yet…

Drake has no shame. He shrugs one slender shoulder at Jane's olive-teasing question, "Yes and Yes." The idea of him being a headliner causes him to blink a moment, then smirk, a still sort of swagger settling in over him — an impressive ability considering that he's still sitting down. "Well of course. Wouldn't dream of letting it outta my hands. Just going to need a hand with the details." At the question about his calendar, he aspiring rock god takes another sip of his beer, then settles the glass back on the table to dig his comm out of the back pocket of his leather pants. Popping it open, he scrolls quickly through his schedule, "I had 11 to 4 blocked off for writing, but I can spring an hour or two." There's a pause, and then he tilts his head to one side, "You're talking 11 PM, right?" Letha's promise of coverage draws a little snort of laughter from the man, "Yeah… 'covering,' like you covered Skuzzy at the last party?" The laughter is light, however, not mean-spirited.

Jane is quiet while the two joke between themselves about That One Night's shenanigans. She winces visibly at the reminder of the craziness, and the guilt and shame that followed the next morning as she stumbled drunkenly back to her own place. Ah, well; it isn't really a great celebrity life unless a couple of questionable and controversial one-night stands are involved. She takes the moment to down the rest of her martini, leaving one last olive as a vodka-soaked treat to finish. When done, she pushes the glass toward the edge of the table.

"Eleven in the morning, Mister Danger. Aside from the occasional evening on the town, I usually have to get to bed at a decent hour. Actors start their days rather early." Jane offers the musician an apologetic smile, but Willow doesn't appear to be volunteering any other timeslot. Neither does Jane prompt her to. "We can meet over an early lunch - my treat. The first step will be drawing up a general proposal to disperse to vendors and venues in each major city. They can bid for the job or offer their services free of charge. Then we'll need to draw up a list of celebrities we'll have to schmooze. That's going to require some face-to-face finesse. If you need any official paperwork from me for your mag, Letha, let me know."

Letha starts to take some notes on her tablet with a couple tapping on her virtual keyboard. She smirks at Drake's mention of Skuzzy, and she gives him a slightly haughty glare. "I'm a professional, Mister Danger… remember that." And then she flashes Jane a wink before she offers a quick nod in response to her suggestion of when to meet. "I'll talk to my editor, see what information he might need, and I can bring you some bids from the publicity department." She makes a note of this easily before she reaches for her tumbler, taking another swallow of the cocktail.

Drake scrolls back on his comm as Jane corrects his assumption, "Breakfast it is then. I think I can make that, provided I can make it through the Suffocant Hole show tonight in one piece. Have a brunch spot," the meal is changing all the time, apparently, "That you like?" The specifics cause him to tap a few notes into the device quickly — apparently he is technologically competent — "Vendors, Venues, Bids, Celebrities, Schmooze. Now that, I can handle…" he trails off, coughing into one hand, "Despite my example this meeting." He looks over to Letha, grinning in the face of the glare and managing not to ask what she's a professional at. He's very proud of that restraint. "Unless you'd rather go after your rock star kiss from Skuzzy by offering him the pass. Of course, you probably wouldn't need the pass for that…"

For Jane, it sounds like the meeting is drawing to a close. Willow is already packing up her tablet, having punched in the meeting to the actress' schedule without being prompted. Shifting in her seat, the red-head makes as if it's time to leave, and so her assistant slides out of the booth to make room for Jane who pauses to look back at the pair. "I'm game for anything. If you're in the mood for a little culture, we can always hit up something Valen. Oh, here." She gestures to Willow, and the young girl slips Jane's utili-bracelet out of her pocket and hands it to the actress. "Scan this," she orders, drawing up her electronic business card before holding the device out to Drake. "It's my business line at HAG. Leave a message with the secretary if I'm not in. She'll get it to me ay-sap. Pick a place and I'll be there—on time. If there isn't anything else right now, I have another meeting to get to." She raises her eyebrows, offering Letha and Drake a good five seconds of silence to bring up any other topic.

It is about now that Letha jabs a elbow rather hard into Drake's side, giving him a warning look. "I've already kissed my one musician today," she reports haughtily. Then she sobers as she looks up toward Jane, shaking her head a bit as she appears to be waiting for more information.

Drake oofs at the elbow, curling an arm in around his rib-cage a little as he stretches out his other hand to scan the info into his comm, "The Vale sounds good, but I don't know it so well. I'll talk to your assistant and set something up." He shifts in the seat as if he might shuffle around to stand up, but then just settles in for a nod of his head, "Thanks for taking the meeting, see you tomorrow at 11 A.M." He manages not to flinch at the last two letters. As Jane presumably turns to leave, Drake drains off his pint of beer, blinking at the sudden wash of alcohol into his system, and looks over to Letha, "Oh, who was she?"

Pleased with the arrangement, Jane slips free of the booth, smoothing her dress down as she rises before offering both Letha and Drake a regal bob of her head. To the former, she accompanies the gesture with an affectionate wink. "See ya," she murmurs, flipping her hair back over her shoulder as she spins on her heel and follows Willow out into the loud club commons before they disappear through the exit.

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