January 7, 2009
8pm
S i g n a t u r e

Niobe patted at her hair again, making sure all the ropey cords of her hair were staying up in the elaborate twists she and Maggie had prepared.  She was giddy-nervous.  Her interview with Koujirou Nakamura had been huge, but this felt more like the excitement of interviewing Gisella Darcy last fall - she was a fangirl getting to talk the ear off one of her favorite artists.

Dolly St. James was a performer.  She was young, pretty and always in the spotlight.  And people just deemed to devour her Slither Girls series whole, Niobe included.  And they were decadent.  And controversial.  And youth-corrupting.  And very likely a direct allegory to Dolly's own colorful escapades. 

She took another small sip from her gin & tonic and adjusted herself in the lush booth.  The booth was classic Signature, upholstered in organic bamboo-fiber fabric, and nearly a complete closed off circle.  The table itself was giving off a warm glow.

She perked up when she saw the host smile and move towards the entrance, which wound down and away out of view.  Someone had come in.

Dolly felt very much like a petulant child. Normally she adored interviews, being the center of attention was what Dolly St.James did best. The only time she put up any kind of fuss was when it involved Rita Skeeter. She understood implicitly that her press - good or bad, was what kept people interested in her books. The thing that was so distressing about this particular meeting of the minds was the fact Dolly had done her research. She generally did when it came to interviewers - it was best to know your potential enemy. She was most displeased to find that while Niobe was a brilliant writer she was also Dominik’s current obsession du jour . Her work was admirable - which left Dolly wondering why she wad doing a fluff piece on book releases.

None of it really mattered in the end because she needed the interview to kick off her press tour, like it or lump it she was going to have to sit across from the woman who Dom thought of constantly, even in the face of a cooing Dolly cuddled on his lap. She didn’t know which of them she despised more… though in the long run it was probably herself. She took great pains with her appearance, skintight sequined dress falling just above the knee, not a hair out of place with immaculate makeup concealing any perceived flaws. She had her war paint on and she was ready for battle.

Armand, the main host for Signature greeted her in the coat checkroom, it was all air kisses and cooing over her as she checked herself in the mirror. He was filling her in on Niobe’s activities since she’d walked in the door. She hadn’t gotten tanked yet - which meant the other woman wanted to be there. No where it was because she was a fan or because she wanted to ruin Dolly’s life there was no certain way of knowing yet. Letting Armond lead her to the reporters table her smile was cemented in place. She would not give Dominik Wiedman the satisfaction of mattering so much she wrecked herself today.

Sliding into the booth across from the other woman she extended her hand, “Love the dreads Darling. Have you been waiting long?”

God, she was an animal.  Niobe Thursby straightened in her seat and raised a hand to wave at the heavy presence of Dolly St. James. She held her smile small at the corners of her lips, so as not to beam goofily at the celebrity. Part of Niobe really envied that.  That beauty and attention.  Niobe was perhaps, celebrity in her own right.  People knew who she was and what she did and Niobe was proud that she stood for something.

But Niobe didn't melt a room just by walking into it. People didn't scream for her.  Prickles of jealosy sprinkled her admiration for Dolly St. James.

Her head swam with the compliment and she returned the handshake as genteely as she could. "Not a bit," she said in her rolling Belfast alto.

"I think we're both right on time. You should have Armand get you something."  Niobe Thursby took another sip from her glass and then turned in the booth for the quill and notepad which were as dear to her as her wand in someways.

"I'm Niobe Thursby," she introduced herself humblely, "if they didn't mention.  This sort of thing's usually Skeeter's bag and she'll kill me for scooping this out from under her, but the fifth Slither Girls is more than just a book release, isn't it, eh?"

She inked the quill, flicked the end and set it off on the parchement, where it stood stiff and poised waiting for the next word uttered.

"The fifth one then - will this be the one to finally get you burned at a stake?" she asked with a grin.

One of the first things Dolly had had to learn to survive in the Pureblood realm was how to read people, to assess their needs, desires, and opinions based on soft social cues they were probably not even aware they were making. This served her well as a writer now, rather than in social situations - because quite frankly she didn’t usually give a damn in social situations. It was also useful in interviews simply because it made it far easier to spot a potential enemy. It was best to be effervescently guarded until more intel could be gathers - but she did not get the feeling that Niobe was even aware she was ruining Dolly’s life at the moment. Unless of course the other woman was one of those rare undetectable harpies.

Glancing up at Armond, feminine hand reaching out to touch his she gave him a playful smile, “The usual Love? Careful on the ratio, I can’t go getting too loose lipped,” she punctuated the sentence with a wink and her signature kiss over the shoulder before turning back to the other woman. She made a small face at the mention of Skeeter, “Ah, I think the Prophet actually wanted me to answer questions this go around rather than have a verbal sparring match with Rita. Senile old bat that she is, they can’t claim first hand scoop on the book if I don’t say anything and end up hexing her,” there was a trace amount of amusement - though mostly not, to her voice as she settled into the booth.

“You’re right though, a new book means a certain level of pandemonium. It still surprises me, when the book first came out I thought four people would buy copies and three of those would be my mother,” resting her chin in her hand she shrugged her shoulders - smile genuine for a moment. She really did love what she did, even if sometimes the critics were too much to bear. When one wrote about one’s life it was hard not to take attacks on the main character personally. They weren’t just pointing out flaws in the writing, but rather flaws in Dolly’s self. She had had to develop a thick skin early on to deal with it all. She was more than aware of her flaws - but she also realized that much of what was “wrong” with her was also what people seemed to love about her.

Finger tips resting against her lips, she gave a short laugh and shook her head at Niobe’s question, “Oh Merlin, who knows? Half the critics are calling it my magnum opus while others are insisting I’ve gone soft. Frankly I find both opinions to be just off the mark,” she paused in thought long enough to look up at Armond as he set a Martini glass in front of her. Her look was grateful but she didn’t address him directly, instead turning her attention back to Niobe from over the glass as she took a sip, “I think book five has a more universal theme than the others - but I don’t think that means it’s the best I'll ever do or that I’ve given up the sizzle to pacify the parent groups insisting I’m corrupting youth culture”.

Rita Skeeter was a juggernaut if she wrote favorably about you, but Dolly St. James so so controversial you couldn't be sure which way Skeeter might swing.  She was a risk.  But Niobe Thursby could be trusted and everyone knew it.  Niobe smiled with an expression openly smug about her more honorable reputation as a journalist.  There was a story in St. James and both Dolly and the readers could trust to see a faithful re-telling of tonight's interview.

She sipped her gin & tonic, and enjoyed Signature's g and t signature - a splace of dragonspice*.

"Opus or pancake," Niobe laughed.  "I guess I can see why some might say that. Jules Scruten from Witch Weekly called your fifth your most honest yet, a book with real emotion in it.  She's saying the interaction between Rhys and Odette without a doubt refers to your relationship with someone true life.  When are you going to let us in on that secret, Doll? The more you write the closer we get to the truth," she said.

Niobe always pressed.  Always, always pressed.  But she knew that Dolly could handle yourself.  As Niobe's mythical mentor, the great Caradne Holliver,  said in her memoires, 'a dry teacup won't say anything without a question'.  Niobe had to push the boundaries knowing better to ask permission when the Daily Prophet could apologize for her.




*Not made from dragons.

Pulling a slender cigarette holder from her clutch, she smirked twitched on her lips, as she searched for her cigarettes - Armond quickly remedied the problem offering her one before slinking off to the shadows once more. This was why Dolly adored him so, “Between you, me, and the Gin? Jules' journalistic integrity probably falls into question. She was a big fan during my dancing days,” leaning forward, breasts straining against the material of her dress she gave a small shrug, “Not that I would ever knock free good press - but Jules is dead sure that one of Odette’s conquests of the fairer sex is based on a mediocre one night stand we had several -and I do mean several years ago”.

And that was how it was with Dolly. She didn’t pull any punches when it came to sex, and she certainly didn’t hide the fact that her sexuality was fluid. She did, however, use these sort of facts to gauge other people’s reactions. She would know how much to trust Niobe with given her reaction. Skeeter would have ran with it, created something entirely false from the not so innocuous statement. Dolly was fishing to see if Thrusby was also that type.

Placing the jeweled cigarette holder between her lips she inhaled deeply, posture relaxed though her eyes were keenly alert to anything Niobe might be writing down. She pondered over the question before exhaling a smoke ring and delicately moving a wayward curl from her face, “Ah the big guns already? It’s refreshing to meet a woman who knows how to go in for the kill”.

Pursing her lips she to a languid sip of her martini before deciding how to answer, “Rhys’ identity is not nearly as closely guarded as Devlin’s - but for the sake of the guilty I like to keep things vague. I will admit he is an amalgamation of very important men in my life, some of whom I‘m still close to”. While her relationship with Elliot had been the basis of Rhys and Odette’s his actual personality had been borrowed liberally from several men that she knew and had, at some point in time, been involved with. Besides with the revelations in book five it seemed unfair to pin it all on Elliot anyway.

The jewelled cigarette, the cut of her dress, Niobe raised an eyebrow as her Verbatis quill recorded every word in exactitude.  It all seemed calculated yet effortless, the collected spectacle that was the life and times of Dolly St. James, it seemed.

Niobe laughed lightly and glanced down at her notes.  "Love it! 'For the sake of the guilty'  All your characters seem to be guilty of something, don't they, and you hanging them out on the line to dry, every page dripping with some confession on your own behalf. What surprises have you got for us this time?"

Niobe, leaned forward herself, leaving the quill to take the notes, and make the interview more conversational.  She was enjoying herself too much - she just needed to make sure she didn't lose her focus, or her edge over the powerful Miss St. James.

"What are we going to learn about you? What's going to shock us?"

Dolly liked her, damn it. She didn’t want to, she wanted to be able to look at the other woman with the special brand of loathing she reserved for all of Dom’s women. She couldn’t though - because it seemed that Thrusby had integrity. Running the tip of her finger around the martini glass, Dolly’s smile was coy, “Secrets are my forte Darling. My childhood was all very cloak and dagger it seems most natural to me to lie about them as keep them. I’d have made an amazing spy,” she laughed a little her hand subtly brushing the other woman’s., “All the assets in the skirt and a knack for making utter shit believable”.

Considering the question carefully she pursed her lips to one side, “In all seriousness? Odette finally sees how destructive her relationship with Devlin is - and struggles with the idea that the fairytale isn’t real,” Tapping her red lips with the tip of her finger she phrased the rest of the answer carefully, “I think it’s something we all have to accept at some point, that Prince Charming is actually a Tin Man and there is no white horse that’s going to gallop up and save us from mediocrity - yes, the so called Great Dolly St. James has even had to deal with this reality. Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone the timing is just always wrong,” her expression was no longer coy, but rather earnest, smile a little sad.

“I guess that’s the thing most people don’t realize. They read the articles, and my social life is a bit of a joke - even I have to question my choices sometimes,” she gave a laugh, taking a sip from her glass before motioning to the waitress to bring her another, “I work to keep the mask in place, but I think the feeling most people have taken away from the book is that somewhere underneath it all I might just be a woman like everyone else,” pausing she wrinkled her nose, “Now I’ll have to work like hell to deny it and keep my strangle hold on my calculating bitch of the century crown,” she punctuated the sentence with a wink and  another drink.

Niobe noticed the touch and couldn't help but allow her heart to beat twice, hard in her chest.  Dolly's aura was so intensely physical and intimate, it was hard to remember that she was intensely famous and this was why.  She charmed and caressed and bubbled personality and grace.  Niobe would have loved to believe it had been something special, that for some reason Dolly liked her more than the other namless commoners she might encounter, but lil miss Irish Thursby knew better.

"Calculating bitch?" Niobe echoed with delight, leaning forward as well and wrinkling her nose.  "Who says?"

The interview was becoming a strange mixture of both sincere conversation and interest on Niobe's part and now was taking a turn into the craft of the interview.  Niobe'd started relatively soft, letting Dolly talk about her book, reveal the bits she'd likely prepared before coming, getting in some talking points, getting cozy.  But now it was time to dig deeper.

Digging deeper with a fangirl smile and squeal.

The were well matched, Dolly had to admit that. If Dolly hadn’t had so much practice being in utter control of every aspect of her life she might have fallen into the lull of Niobe’s earnest interested eyes. However, Dolly hadn’t spent the last five years leaking exactly what she wanted to the public without a few tricks up her sleeve. The key was to let them think they were in control, that they had privy to parts of you no one had seen before. If they were as good as Niobe seemed to be they would be granted certain access. If the wrote trash like Skeeter…well then they were stonewalled so hard their faces cracked. It was all very cat and mouse - until Dolly pounced and suddenly they were compromised.

Resting her chin in her hand she gave the other woman a knowing smile, her gaze down turned and almost demure, “Oh you know the ones. It offends their delicate sensibilities that I can enjoy sex like a man. Obviously I have to be a callous bitch of a wanton whore because I refuse to let my emotions hobble me,” she sounded amused as her blue eyes shifted up to Niobe’s face, fingers trailing along the other woman’s, “But I’m sure you’ve experienced that to some degree, a woman who is sure of what she wants, competing in a mostly male dominated industry, fighting for the stories you deserve to write,” she paused her fingers almost laced with Niobe’s; her full lips drawn together in a thoughtful line, “Or perhaps I’m assuming too much?”

What in Merlin's name...?

In a quick motion, Niobe's other hand darted to where her Verbatis quill was scribbling away, previously forgotten.  It had been quietly scribing every word for Niobe's notes, but with two fingers, she stilled its scratching tip.  The fluffy black plume stood stark still in Niobe's extended hand, poised a centimetre over the note pad. 

To a casual observer, this little action might go unnoticed, but for Niobe Thursby, this was a moving of moons, an abrupt shift in the natural tides.  Niobe never stayed her quill.  Never for personal reasons.  Never unbidden by her interviewee.  Never ever.

The entire time, she'd not taken her eyes off Dolly, Niobe's hand hovering in space, her other intertwined in the starlet's own.

She was being played.  Wasn't she? Niobe squinted at Dolly, never backing away, not drawing back her own hand.  But leaving the quill in stasis.

"What," she started slowly, "what do you know?"

Dolly looked at her innocently, she didn’t know anything for sure it was just an assumption that could be made about most women who pushed themselves to be the best. Giving a small sigh Dolly shook her head, “Come now, Niobe Darling… you are sitting in Signature preparing to write what is tantamount to either a fluffy fan piece or will be a seething howler because it’s so far beneath even your pay grade,” her voice was silken as she toyed with the neckline of her dress, blue eyes doleful, “I do pick up the paper on occasion, Love,” she gave a sad little laugh biting her bottom lip, “We’re not so different you and I,” she paused her thumb lightly rubbing the other woman’s as she carefully chose her words.

“While I love my fans, and I do indeed keep writing these books for them… it’s all a bit shallow isn’t it? I have learned to manipulate the system. Stick my tits out, act outrageous, keep no bedroom secrets - but there is a real woman behind the cultivated persona - flesh and blood with needs and desires that go so much further than drunken flings and Rita Skeeter gossip,” she paused, sliding around the booth closer to the other woman, the heady scent of her perfume mixed with smoke and alcohol becoming subtlety stronger, the sort of smell that lingered long after she’d left a bed or room. “I suppose I assumed you’d know what that was like. A woman working for the Prophet, you can’t tell me that’s a completely level playing field, even for someone above exploiting themselves for fame”.

Niobe felt her heat rise when Dolly kept coming at her, trying to palm read her, inching closer to her in the booth and closer to the truth.  It was commonplace for Niobe to know more about her interviewees than they knew of her - but she couldn't shake the feeling that someone Dolly had found out about her lifestory in such detail as if Niobe'd published her own loosely veiled autobiographical novels.

Exploit herself for fame? Niobe'd be dead twice over before she'd admit that's exactly what she'd done and was doing again with Dominik.  Had done with Cinaed.  And one or two others.  She was above it in every way except the ways that counted.  And here she'd thought herself better than Dolly St. James.

Better than.  But getting bested.  She had to turn the tides, somehow.  Get this moving away from her and Dominik and back towards printable matters.

She licked her lips and broke their touch to take a long drink that emptied her glass.

"Hmm," she said, clearing her throat and sliding the empty glass to the edge of the table.  A long wet streak showed its path across the table.

She released the quill and sprang again to life once more.

She cleared her throat again, but tried to hold on to the same coyly playful expression Dolly wore.  "It's level because I make it level.  My words print in black ink just like everyone elses.  And on the front page," she said.

"Because I'm the best.  I stay in control." 

Dolly’s long lashes fluttered, fingers pressed to her lips as she gave a small amused laugh, “Oh Darling, really? Don’t kid a kidder Love, the playing field is never level so we play dirty,” her smile was rueful as her fingers strayed from Niobe’s palm. “Being in control has nothing to do with things being equal, being in control means by the very nature it isn’t because you have the upper hand,” she took a small sip from her glass, swirling the olive around the lip as she carefully plotted her next move. She wouldn’t bring out Dominik, not yet anyway, it really wouldn’t do to insult the reporter by calling her a groupie outright. After all if she just played her cards right Niobe could have been famous all on her own. She didn’t need to ride Wiedman’s coattails. Of course it had taken Dolly herself a hell of a long time to figure that out.

“I suppose it’s a matter of what you have to tell yourself at night really, it’s easy to think you’re better than the tramp who writes silly books for a living,” her voice was smooth as she eyed the reporter carefully “Honestly if I were you I’d probably make the same mistake,” she grinned around the finger between her lips as she gently bit a well manicured nail. She looked every bit the part of the cat who’d eaten up the canary - like she had all the secrets to any and everything the other woman had ever wanted to know, “It is, of course, important to know no one gets to a certain level of fame without… a knack, shall we say, for manipulating the flow of information and the people it concerns. It’s amazing what you can control when people are foolish enough to underestimate all the cards you hold”.

Keep it cool, Thursby.  She wants to turn this into a fight? Rise above it.  At the end of the day, Barnabas Cuffe wants a review.  About the books. About their reception, their implication.  Dolly was doing her job - playing cat and mouse - and Niobe had to do hers. 

She pursed her lips at Dolly St. James's insinuations.  Insinuations that Niobe didn't respect her, but she held her tongue on those.  She could think what she wanted.

Loud and clear for the quill, Niobe kept her tone pointedly detached.

"Dolly, Slither Girls gets too much attention to just be a stack of 'silly books', don't you think? What do you think your naysayers underestimate about your series?"

As she pressed forward with the interview, she tried to figure out what Dolly's agenda was - who was trying to get what out of who.  She sat back from the table and peered at her, trying not to give her anything at all with her face, show any apprehension or anything but the most professional of curiosities.  Dolly wanted to take this talk in a different direction, but Niobe wasn't going to let that happen.