Summary:Dazzler's biggest fan, Koriandr, comes looking for a job. Log Info:Storyteller: n/a |
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It's a fact of life for celebrities that they have to strike a balance between being hidden from their legions of fans, but also approachable by the industry. Not many people know this, but there's an unspoken 'black market' of names and numbers. Ways that performers can get a hold of agents who can get hold of production crews and models and scouts. You have to be in the industry to find someone in the industry, but…
Well, Kori Anderson now knows someone in 'the industry'. So she shows up at the modest offices for Dazzler's performance company, unannounced, with no more credentials than a beaming smile. That, and a referral from a certain modelling agency. She's let inside and heads back to the offices that Dazzler shares with her production team. "I am looking for Dazzler! Has anyone seen her?" The secretary eyes Kori warily, unsure of how to process this. Insane fans are supposed to be ejected, but Kori… doesn't look like a fan. Well, not *that* kind of fan. She's in flats and high-waisted black leisure leggings, and an official Dazzler t-shirt worn with a knot under her left rib to pull the slack tight. The gap between tights and shirt emphasizes her athletic physique.
Even more striking to the secretary, is that Koriandr is very, very tall and very, very orange. But, hey, this is New York. "Dazzler? Just let me check." She opens up a rolodex on her desk, very old school, and flicks through the cards. "No Dazzler…oh…Alison. Yes, of course. I should have known from your t-shirt." Apparently, she is not the only person on the books here. "You might be in luck, Miss…" An arch of an eyebrow to try and draw a name out. "What would you like to see Ms Blair about?" One of the secretary's hands drifting under the desk and hovering over an emergency button to bring up security.
"My name is Kori Anderson, and I am hoping Miss Blair would hire me," Kori explains with an utterly unimpeachable candor. "I have recently started working as a model. Hooray!" she says, beaming and twirling on the ball of her foot. "But I do not have any work yet, and my agent said I should 'beat some bushes'. Then later, she told me I should be applying for work on my own. I am the fanatic of Dazzler's music, and I thought: perhaps she is interested in hiring me! I do not know how to dance or sing, but I am sure I would be a good model!" she remarks, with a torrent of oversharing.
"A model…and Dazzler will want to hire you?" The secretary doesn't get paid enough for this. But, there's also an opportunity to make Koriandr someone else's problem - namely Alison's. "Sure, why wouldn't she be. Everyone needs a model." The secretary points down a dingy hallway. "She is in the rehearsal room right down the end of the hall. Have a good day, Ms Anderson." Now the secretary can get back to her cell phone gossip.
"Thank you!" Kori doesn't seem to realize she's being dismissed and starts floating on light feet towards the rehearsal room. Fortunately, it's labelled as such, so Kori just opens the door and lets herself in. "Miss Blaire? Do you have a few free moments?" she inquires, and casts her green eyes around the room in search of the famous DAZZLER!
If only the rest of the world considered Dazzler as famous as her biggest fan. The rehearsal room proves to be a small bare room that was probably once a storage area. In one corner is an old sound system currently pumping out music that Alison is figuring out dance routines too. By herself. She is dressed in leggings and a purple crop top that shows off her own defined abs. Alison was not expecting sudden company, so she also has a little light show going on around her that she watches in the mirror wall. But there's no lights set up anywhere. The flashing, colorful lights disappearing within moments of Kori's arrival. "Oh…hey…Kori" she smiles, a little blush on her cheeks. "My biggest fan. How could I not have a few moments? Come on in." Alison grabs a bottle of water and enjoys a mouthful.
"Oh, joy! I am sorry to just 'show the up'," Kori tells Alison, with a sincere respect and apology at once. "I do not wish to do the intruding," she explains, and finds a chair to sit in. "I am looking for the work, and I was recently able to secure an interview with a modelling agency that is based in New York. My interviewer mentioned that many famous musicians sometimes hire models to help with their shows. I am not sure *how* I can help," Kori admits, "but you are my favorite famous musician. I also asked Zatanna Zatara if she would hire me, and she is the one who said I should apply for the 'work of modelling'," she explains.
"It's fine, good to see you again." Alison breathes a sigh of relief that her unassisted light show seems to have been missed. "You're going to be a model? Cool. You're certainly hot enough to be. And tall too." A little laugh at being placed in the 'famous musician' category. "Thanks for the ego boost. Umm…not sure I can use a model at the moment. And you're way prettier than me, who would watch me instead?" She grabs a chair herself to sit opposite Kori, the back of the seat facing her fan so Alison can lean on it and sit the wrong way round. "You know Zatanna too? I would have thought she could use a model with her tricks." Still, she doesn't want Kori to be disappointed. "Can you dance? Sing? Play an instrument?"
Kori blinks at the questions from Alison and shakes her head sorrowfully. "I do not know how to play any of your American instruments," she says with a crestfallen tone. "I can do of the singing, but all of my friends yell at me when I do. They say it sounds of 'something dying'," she tells Alison.
"I am very confused why you think people would not watch you," she admits a tentative beat later. "You are very much the talented. You can sing *and* dance. I am not allowed to sing, and I am only just learning how to dance," she explains. "My friend Pris is a dancer at the Obsidian Lounge. I applied for work there, and the owner told me he would not hire me unless I knew already the dance of exotics. Pris said she'd teach me, though! So I am hoping that will make me more the employable."
"Playing instruments isn't important in my music. Not on stage at least" Alison assures Kori with a giggle. "Just as long as they're loud. Okay, no to the instruments and no to the singing…though I'm sure you have a wonderful voice. That leaves the dancing."
Though mention of the Obsidian Lounge gets a wide-eyed look for a moment. "Cool. I've been there a couple of times. To perform…sing I mean." A blush to her cheeks as she lies. "But if you want to learn how to dance, let's see what you got first. I'd be happy to help out my biggest fan." She turns her music back on. "How would you dance to this, Kori?"
"Oh, so you must know my friend Pris!" Kori tells Alison with a happy expression. "The joyness! She is very kind to me," the redhead explains.
She tilts her head to the side and listens to the music. Her eyes dart back and forth as she listens to the beat, then she shakes her head. "I do not know," she admits, crestfallen. "Dancing in my home p—country is a very regimented affair. It is only done a certain way, and improvisation is considered 'the rude'," she explains. "We only dance in times of great ceremony, such as funeral observations and declaration of war. The beats are not dissimilar, but I would not wish to inadvertently create an international incident, either!"
"I don't know anyone by that name" Alison admits about Pris. "Maybe she was using another name? They do that a lot in there. Otherwise they have a statistically disproportionate amount of Candys working there."
"Ah…well…if you want to do the exotic dancing then you'll definitely have to improvise. And learn to dodge hands too." That last added under Alison's breath. "You won't cause an international incident" she giggles, "We don't use dance like that. What I would like you to do, Kori, is forget tradition and move like the music makes you feel. The beats can give the rhythm, but the melody can give the inspiration. Work with them both. Do what it is telling you to do. You can watch yourself in the mirror wall."
Kori gets to her feet and looks at herself in the mirror. "I… well, I do not know if I *wish* to be a dancer," she admits. "But everyone tells me the only thing they think I can do is modelling. Dancing does not seem too much the different than modelling."
She shifts her weight from one foot to another with a subdued swaying in time with the beat Alison drums up. "I do not know /what/ to do," she says a few seconds later, and turns to look at Alison. "Will you show me how *you* dance? Perhaps that will help me in my learning."
"That's a start" Alison smiles warmly at Kori's dance steps. "Dancing is about feelings first. Modelling is about looks first. Dancing, you move to celebrate. Modelling, you move to look graceful. One of the reasons I will never be a model" she laughs before stepping up to do some moves. She will begin with the swaying. "So that's the rhythm sorted" she explains, "But what can we add to it? What can we accentuate?" Alison throws in some steps from side to side, emphasizing different beats. Her arms start to get involved, moving with the music. "You have to lose yourself to it before you can regiment it."
Kori sways along easily enough, then imitates Alison's footwork fairly effortlessly. She's inhumanly graceful in a way that most people would be a little unnerved by. Not just dexterous or athletic. But like gravity itself doesn't have a hold on her, as if balance is something she comes by as easily as breathing.
She starts anticipating Alison's simple footwork pattern and a smile breaks on her face. "This is not so bad! Are we dancing now?" she asks with a girlish peal of laughter. Her mood seems to have returned to 110 enthusiasm, which is pretty much standard for the effusive redhead!
"Not too bad at all" Alison grins to Kori - her enthusiasm is infectious. "Definitely dancing now" she nods, turning towards her fan so they are more dancing together. "We gals can do things with our hips that drive guys wild." So now she gets some gyrating into her moves. Turning things a lot more sensual. "When you do your exotic dancing, you're going to really have to turn on the sultry. Slow grinding rather than the active leaping about I do on stage."
Kori pauses and stares at Alison's hips with a furrowed brow. "Oh. OHHHH!" she gasps. "Oh! I am the understanding now! I was not sure what the custom of dancing was before, because the girls at my high school could only do the— how do you call it— it is the motion of the hips. It is a war dance where I am from."
She turns around, sticks her butt behind her, and starts twerking. Violently. "It is a most intimidating maneuver, is it the not?"
She twirls in place again. "But the boys can only do the, uh, the—" she does the awkward slow-dance shuffle, leaning back and forth, and moving her arms arrhythmically. "And no one would explain to me what *I* should be doing! So I did the nothings!"
Alison covers her mouth to stop her laughter at the twerking butt. "Very intimidating" she nods, trying to sound solemn but failing. "Okay, some people on this planet may still do war dances, but all that hip and butt stuff. Totally means the opposite here. Your friend Pris will probably teach you some great butt dancing to get the boys crazy."
Another laugh at the demonstration of boy dancing. "Spot on! I don't want to perpetuate stereotypes, but most guys who can dance are gay. Nothing wrong with that but, for some reason, straight guys expect women to do all the work on the dancefloor. Though there are plenty of girls who dance like that too. Usually they put their handbag on the floor and shuffle around it. But like I said, Kori, I can show you some moves but dancing is all about how you feel, and no one can teach you that."
"Oh! Very well, I shall not do the war dances," Kori agrees. "At least until Pris can teach me otherwise." She looks at the stereo, frowning, then looks back at Alison. "But there is still one problem. It is my understanding that dancing is a form of nonverbal communication. I am more than capable of moving, but I do not speak the language of dance— not how it is spoken here," she explains. "I have seen the ballet dancers do a thing, and the dancers of the exotic do another thing, and then the musical video dancers do something else entirely different! How am I to know what to do?"
"No, do the war dances, but just remember they aren't war dances here. They are 'look how hot I am' dances. So if you do one thinking to frighten someone away, you might end up attracting them. I guess that's one of those non-verbal communications" Alison smiles before her eyes narrow a little. "Where are you from originally?" She could just be a mutant…or Asgardian. "As for what type of dancing to do, there's context. Ballet dancers do their dance on stages as part of a dramatic presentation. Exotic dancers to their dance on stage as part of a dramatic presentation. The difference is audience expectations…and the music that is playing. All of them, in a way, match their dancing to the music but there are expectations to go with their context. When you're dancing on a dance floor for yourself, you do what you like. And, to make things even more confusing, you can absorb all those different dance styles and make something new or combined. Maybe the dance styles where you come from can be used for a different message?" She considers for a long moment. "I haven't made things clearer, have I? Why do you want to dance, Kori?"
"I am from Malta," Kori explains to Alison. It's a stall, buying time for her to respond to the woman's more immediately pertinent question and he explanation of dance theory. "I … I do not know if I *wish* to dance," she admits, finally. Her green eyes go downcast. "I do not know what I want to do. Everyone asks me that. 'What would make me happy, go do that'. But I do not know how to *do* anything," she says, allowing a little frustration in her voice. "Everyone expects me to know how to use a floor waxer, or a milkshake machine, or how to hold a pizza box, and then I am yelled at and fired for not knowing this. Even the Obsidian Palace, the owner said he would not hire me until I already knew how to dance. How am I to learn how to *dance* unless someone hires me to do it? Is this how it works in this country?" Fingers flex in a gesture of frustrated dismay. "I cannot work without experience, and I cannot get experience without work. The only thing anyone thinks I would be good at is showing my body to people. It does not seem terribly distinguished work, but I must do *something* to support myself!"
"Malta? Cool. Not sure where that is…" Alison shrugs it off before frowning at Kori's tale of woe. "Hey, that's not unusual. Most people don't know what they want to do so they go off and do the first thing…or the expected thing…and are miserable. My father wanted me to be a lawyer. He's not…very happy with me" she smiles. "You can go to classes to learn things before being hired as them. No one has hired me to be a dancer, but I took classes when I was a kid and then taught myself. Can't afford a choreographer."
Alison steps over to Kori and does her best to give the Amazon a tight hug. "Don't be down just because you're confused. We learn every day. And every day, you will learn how to do more things. You know what? I don't know how to use a floor waxer or a milkshake maker either. Though I could kill a milkshake right now."
Kori's a hugger and returns the hug with unvarnished enthusiasm. She doesn't quite pick Alison up off the ground, stooping politely, but there is probably little doubt in Alison's mind that Kori's stronger than she looks. A *lot* stronger.
Kori breaks from the hug, keeping her arms loosely around Alison until the other woman steps away. "But you do not need to know how to do either of those things!" Kori tells Alison, looking alarmed and confused. "You are a famous musician. I have seen you on the YouTubes, /many/ times," she reminds Alison for the umpteenth occasion. She smiles then, a brilliantly radiant expression. "Fortunately, I do not think you need to murder anyone for a milkshake. They sell them for quite cheaply, you know."
A surprised grunt at the force of the hug but Alison takes it in her stride. "There are plenty of Youtube musicians who need to know how to do those things. I'm not rich, Kori, and not that famous to be honest. You know how much I make from a Youtube play? Sixty cents from every thousand views. And six cents of that goes to my agent. I don't even have a steady place to live. I rely on the kindness of strangers. Let me check how much money I have and I'll shout us lunch if you're interested…or is it dinner time? Keep smiling, Kori, it'll work out."
Kori looks very surprised by Alison's admission. "I… but there are many people at your concert!" she protests. "And everyone has told me how important musicians are to your culture. They all travel in expensive vehicles and have the concerts of the sold out. I did not think …"
She shakes her head, the motion translating to a sinuous ripple down her too-thick, too-full red mane. "This country continues to confuse me," she mutters, and digs her cell phone from where it's tucked into the waistband of her leggings. "I have… thirteen dollars," Kori concludes, counting some bills. "I have a credit card, but I am only supposed to use that for emergencies," she clarifies. "I am no longer receiving a refugee stipend from your government so if I do not find a job, I will be out of the money for luxuries very soon."
"I only charge ten bucks a ticket for the concerts and I have to pay for a lot of things out of that. You're right, some musicians drive around in fancy cars and even have their own planes. I'm not one of them. Not yet. Hey, it's no big deal. I'm doing what I love, and all that other stuff doesn't matter. You have totally bitchin' hair by the way."
Alison finds her wallet and peers through it. "I've got about thirty. We'll be fine. Burger place that does shakes. That sound good? Yeah, try to avoid using credit cards. That's a trap right there." She purses her lips in thought at Kori's need for a job. "I'll see what I can do about getting you some work. It won't pay well and probably won't be steady, but I want to help you out."
"Bitchin', that means… good?" Kori says, cautiously. "I thank you, then! I like your hair as the well," she tells Alison. They fall into step, the leggy redhead shortening her stride, so Alison doesn't have to skip along. "I do enjoy the burgers," Kori admits. "And the shakes, even if they are actually more properly called 'the stirreds'," she observes. "I do not know anyone who makes a milkshake by shaking it. It should be a milkstirred." Flawless logic, there.
"I would welcome any work you can get me. I have been offered money from a … patron who wants to help me, but I do not feel as if I should accept it casually. I wish to find a way to do *something* of value."
"So, stirred not shaken" Alison laughs before she feels she better explain. "That's a little reverse James Bond joke there. You do have James Bond in Malta, right? Caramel is my favorite. Milkshake, not James Bond." Alison has left most of her gear in the rehearsal room…she may be planning to stay there tonight.
"What does the patron want you to do for your money? Do you want to go to college or anything? That's how we skill up in this country. Go to school. Though there are different types of school too." Alison stops at the secretary's desk. "I'll be back later." Then they are off again. "You know, your job is your job, it's not you. It is you that has to be of value, not your job."