10:45 p.m.

Outfit (of the moment)

Half of the concert had already taken place. Sweat was pouring on her forehead as Gisella Darcy exited the stage to the left, bidding her fans love and a promise to return within a few minutes. She was wearing a tight, shell-like leotard, with similar horns upon her head. She was excited, happy, ready to thrill her fans with the rest of the concert. Even her (mostly male) dancers were still running on loads of adrenaline, as she walked by her most attractive one, giving his arse a tap, and kissing his cheek. "Keep up your bum bouncing, baby." He smiled at her, winked, and ran off to change. No bother, though, cause all her men were gay to boot.

She scurried along to a table close to the right of the stage, behind it of course, and grabbed herself a glass of fire whiskey and pulled out a cigarette. "Light anyone?" Her wand, of course, was in her room farther away in the night club, where she had her own spare room close to Grosvenor's. Since she mainly did concerts at Signature, where many of the late night scene was, she had opted to rent a room there for safe keeping. As she had just asked anyone for a light, a technician popped up, tipping his wand to her cigarette, lighting it. "Grazie bene, bello."

Taking drags in and swashing down her drink, she took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. It was tough being a superstar, but she loved it. Hell, he next song would be performed in a large, porcelain bathtub on the stage, with her dancers parading around her. She didn't have to be out for another 15 minutes, giving the audience a chance to sober up, then drink some more, and giving her a chance to take a breath.

Niobe Thursby, breathless and cramped finally pushed her way past a pack of G. D. fans who were blocking her way backstage.  That last number of Gisella Darcy's set had brought the house down and the crowd was still humming in Signature's very fancy theater.

"Move!" she ordered, as she shouldered through yet another tight bundle of grinning, sweating concert goers.  Finally out of the main crowds, she was now shoving her way down the narrow corridor to get back stage.

Finally, she met a barrier that told her she was nearly there. Two veela. Standing with arms crossed and their long blond hair cut into short, blunt bangs.  The Veela were an excellent choice of bouncer.  Not only did they easily distract any unwanted male visitors, but they could transform into frightening harpy-like creatures if things really got hairy.

As Niobe came trotting up, they cocked their heads in annoyance.

"I think not.  Look at how she's dressed," said one to the other.

"Do tell.  Are you a school teacher?" the other asked of Niobe.

"What? I - no!" Niobe said.  Niobe had come dressed for the occasion.  A tight blue corset over a tuled gypsy skirt.  Her dread locks were charmed to stick out in a mohawk shape.  But honestly, when she arrived, she discovered her outfit was pretty tame for this venue.

"No! I'm with the Daily Prophet. I was invited."

The Veela were not impressed. "Gisella," the first called.  "Did you order take-out?"

As she leaned against the wall, sipping her whiskey and dragging on her cigarette, she noticed a small squabble beginning at the entrance to the back stage. Wondering what the problem was, she walked a little closer to get a better listen. Apparently it was a reporter trying to ease her way past the veela guards to get an interview. Normally, Gisella Darcy wouldn't take a mid-concert interview, but she caught a glimpse of the brown-blonde curls in their full form.

"Gisella, did you order take-out?" One of the harpie women called to her.

She walked over to the spot where the veela had been verbally attacking the reporter and moved them apart. "My shrill beauties, why do you harass my friend? Come No'bee, let us drink and be merry." She winked at her reporter friend and pulled her through the blonde terror that was the veela guards.

Back at the table where the alcohol and food was set, she turned her friend around and gave her a hug. "Hello, my friend, and what occasion do I have the pleasure of seeing you at my concert tonight? I love your outfit, by the way." She smiled at her, picked her glass back up, and pulled out a fresh cigarette.

Gisella appeared then, nearly shining of her own glamour.  Different than the Veela's innate sorcery, but with the same gossamer, the same enamorating affect.  Niobe grinned in spite of herself.  Gisella was a force of nature and her charm almost reduced Niobe from reporter to fan. 

As quickly as she could, she shouldered past the Veela and joined Gisella.  She was still beaming when Gisella complimented her attire.   Niobe'd agonized over it, trying to find something that fit an occasion like a G.D. concert.  And she had been pleased with herself until getting taken down a few hard notches by those Veela.  But with the nod from Gisella, Niobe felt a surge of pride and once again filled with the confidence that she did in fact belong her and was perfectly capable of interviewing the eccentric, electric Gisella Darcy.

"Hullo, yourself, Miss D," Niobe greeted and sat down herself.  The Verbatis Quill was stuck in her dreads, an adornment for now in her spiky mane. 

"The occasion is of course your firebolt rise to fame in the UK.  And rumors that your music will be going muggle before the new year is out," she said.  She drew her wand and lit its tip, offering a light to the musical maven.

Gisella poured a drink for Niobe and set it on the table next to her. "For you, my dear." He winked and poured herself another. Whiskey didn't hit her hard, as she'd been raised on it, so her sobriety level was super high, and it would take more than a few glasses of whiskey to change her mindset. Besides, he mind was only thinking of her show, her fans, and how she was going to kill the next set.

Smiling at Niobe, she intended to answer the question with honest truth. "To be honest, Ni, my music has already gone golden by muggle standards in the states." She sighed and finished the drink, vowing it to be her last until after the show.

Dropping her cigarette and stomping it out, she looked back to her journalist friend. "But I cannot wait for it to hit the muggle shelves here. I don't live for the money or the fame, dahling, but for my fans. These young witches and wizards - they're minds are so open, so ready to absorb. I'm ready to tell them my story, let them live the life I have, let them see what I see." She sighed again, longer and deeper. "Here's to hoping they'll get it." She laughed at this last statement.

Niobe took her own glass and raised it at Gisella's dramatic invocation.  "Agreed!"

Niobe took a sip of the whiskey and found it was smooth, oaky and cold as ice - just the way she liked it.  She set it down and took out her quill from her hair, the dark brown Verbatis quill.  She knew her dictating pen - the most accurate on the market - would never really catch the gossamer of Madame Darcy, but it would have to do.

With quill set to paper, Niobe continued.

"Your music - I understand it's not tricky to produce for muggle devices.  But how on earth are you able to justify your concerts to the Muggle Worthy Excuse Committee?  Your shows are dripping with magic and magic-culture clothing and language.  How do your live shows translate?"

She grinned and cocked her eyebrow playfull.  "Gisella, they'll all think you're insane."