Tessa_McIntosh

Viktoria instinctively swallowed air and it indicated her throat went dry. She cleared her throat to no luck. She turned away from her company and sipped her Foghorn to lubricate her throat. Oslo was cooly conversing with The Sequel about their lack of scripts, “...Trust me Caitlin. When you meet the Doll family it will all make sense.” he took another deep puff of his black cigar. Across from the Redhead Recruit, Oslo’s emerald ember illuminated bright like it absorbed new information on the woman. A burning third eye.

The smoke plumed thick from his nostrils as if he possessed pyrophoric lungs similar to a dragon. Eyes simmered on his newest actress, the Ancestra producer resumed, “Neely. The Tower. Requires the woman wearing her mantle to reach deep into their spiritual and emotional rolodex. When you read the literature, you will see the manic performance she requires...” Vik listened quietly mapping the reputation and scandals the Selebrity Signee was known for. Alcoholism. Rehab. Fame. Neely was Caitlin. Holding to his principles, Oslo emphasized his actors perform their roles via method technique.

The Primetime Phoenix chose the Tower and in turn Neely forecasted her need to be spiritually reborn via destruction. Viktoria almost visually shook her head and scoffed at Oslo’s eerie attention to detail. Neely was a woman at her magnum opus. The career. The marriage. The World Renown. Reaching that trinity of influence jaded Neely into a macrodosed and negligent workaholic wife. Viktoria broke into their conversation.

"I think since we're here Caitlin we should set up a date. We can even start doing candid promo with our books" Viktoria leaned closer to the Rikers Readhead. "Just me and you." she said playfully nudging her castmate. Working for Oslo or an Ancestra Studios project in general could be a heavy process. The Sci-Fi Siren experienced these journey's and witnessed previous castmates finish the project changed for better or worse. She extended the olive branch to begin carving out an intimate space for Caitlin and her future castmates, preferably the women to decompress, raise morale and vent throughout the demanding filming and production processes.

“No introduction needed!” she spoke in a jubilantly singsong voice as she stood to greet Caitlyn with a polite hug. “Love you in Red Sonja!”

Caitlyn dwarfed her in stature and her 5’7” hug barely came to the red-headed woman’s bosom.

“It’s an honor to finally meet the woman herself.” Oslo Chabernaud slipped in a greeting that consisted of him taking her hand. “I have a gift for you both”

Viktoria traded a glance with Oslo before placing her eyes back on Caitlyn for a reply. She knew bits and pieces of the alien invasion battle the actress-hero participated in. She raised her Foghorn-filled glass flute and sipped, but stopped herself feeling a slight shame with Caitlyn in their presence. She placed the drink behind her to hideaway on the end table.

The man proffered two hardcover books of the titular novel, only the cover itself suggested a difference from Jacqueline Susan's work. "I want you two ladies to read this book and meet weekly with your other castmates to deconstruct and discuss the novel."

Faíth appraised the book, skimming the synopsis and pages of the book. She saw the sketch of the Golia sigil bookmarked in one of the pages, but made no note of it. "We won't be getting scripts anytime soon?" Viktoria asked, sensing Caitlyn possibly was equally inquisitive and had questions of her own.

The Ancestra Studios producer crossed his legs and sat cozy in his seat. "I'll be attending the meeting as well as the screenwriters Rian Johnson and Greta Gerwig. They will be crafting and editing the script at our meetings." Oslo rested his stoic gaze onto Caitlyn. "Viktoria's casted as Jennifer North, but we are still working on the direction we want to blossom from you and the emotional path it would require. Anne or Neely. The Tower or the Inverted High Priestess."Viktoria knew the tarot reading reference, but was unsure if Caitlyn had any recollection of the arcane arts. The sketches placed in the books were already cards dealt to Viktoria and Caitlyn. "Which role do you prefer, Ms Rikers?" Sparking a strange green fire with a black-painted thumb, Oslo lit a black cylinder stick. It's tip burned an emerald ember. He huffed a long drag, blowing a large and fragrant plume of smoke, one that smelled of sandalwood & eucalyptus, traveling the night air course of the fall wind.

Wrapped in Oslo's weighted jacket, Viktoria sat silent stroking her fingers along her Saturn-symbol necklace. Her nails dragged the curves and bends of the scythe-like sigil (♄). Waiting for Caitlyn's reply.

Viktoria's Foghorn cocktail turned sour in her mouth when Oslo steered their light conversation to business. “You’re going to do a season of X-Factor.” She hated when he crooned her with his executive matter-of-fact tone of voice. “So you’ll be shooting from September to December.”

The actress and her multi-hyphenate manager cozied at a crystal fire pit that burned calm embers. “You forged my signature again?”

Oslo clicked a rhythm with his tongue. “It’s in your contract, Vik.”

A fall breeze picked up and brushed Vikoria's bare arms. She wished she took her friend Francisco's jacket after they left Craig's. “It says a music reality show.” she recalled. "Not The X-Factor"

“X-Factor will get your face out there to a new demographic.” Oslo consistently held strong to his management decision like there was a cardinal ritual he had to orchestrate just right.

“Know what, I’m not here for that.” Viktoria fanned her hand, wafting the invisible stench of the contract conversation away. “Valley of Dolls. I’m here to meet my Valley of Dolls castmate.”

"Caitlyn Rikers. I thought I told you."

"The Selebrity chick?" The genre-bending film star, moved her cocktail from her dewy face. "Isn't she in recovery? We're meeting her at a bar?" She sat back in her seat, holding back more comments on the absurdity with a mirthful scoff.

"It's a restaurant and don't chastise her." Oslo shouldered off his tailored velvet jacket. "She's a grown woman."

Viktoria took Oslo's Zegna jacket, sitting at the edge of the chair to cover her bare arms and midriff. "Thanks." She said giving a playful pose, holding the shrug in her shoulders, cherishing the weight and warmth of Oslo's jacket. "So when does she get here?" Her cerulean eyes scanned over the scene for intruding eyes. Tabloid writers, bloggers and vloggers slithered the Terrace occasionally. Creeping under the guise of clubbers looking to drink cocktails, eat escargot and dance to live DJsets.