the plot

[♦ Antigone Bennett]

outfit

It was quiet, too quiet. Pardon the cliché but even Antigone, a only partial seasoned veteran of the City of Angels, could tell that something wasn't quite right with the city. It was like the whole area was holding it's collective breath, waiting for something to happen. She even found herself rushing to her window every morning to make sure that everything was still there. She had only been in the city a few days and she was already looking for the end of the world. How much sense did that make? They were here to stop anything like that from happening, at least that was the world and word according to Mystic the Cat. If she hadn't lost most of her sense of humor, she would have found the fact that they were taking their marching orders from a cat hilarious. The irony of her animal-disliking butt following at cat was not lost on her though. She needed to find a good cat repellent to keep Mystic from curling up in her basket of darks.

Speaking of darks, Tiffany & Co glared blackly at Antigone from across the walkway in the Beverly Center Mall as if daring the redhead to even try to brave the interior of the store and search it's depths for the missing meteorite. Okay, so she was putting it off. Going into Tiffany’s was like asking for it, her step-mother would hear about her presence as soon as she left the store though one of her ever-present spies. It was the funniest thing, even movie stars braved the crowds to go out and pick the perfect engagement ring and wedding bands, and Tiffany's was like a mainstay on the list of stores you went to go buy one. So every gossiper worth their pennies had at least one in a store to report any sighting, or private after-hours events just in case they found something juicy about any number of celebrities, celebutantes and other famous and fabulous people. It was safe to say that she would be receiving calls from her step-monster soon.

That wasn't exactly a bad thing either, since she had been voted the most likely to be able to infiltrate into high class Hollywood with her connections. So Tinseltown and the Beverly Center Mall were unanimously voted her's since she looked the part. That was why she had started in Beverly and Bellaire, before moving into Hollywood proper. Tiffany’s was the last thing she was going to do in relative peace, after this there was no going back. The decision to do a final sweep of the building had come after a long, and slightly tiring session at a local gym, so she was still dressed in some of her gymnastics finery. She had taken her time on all the sweeps too, searching under every stone and dust bunny, even the parking lots and surrounding grounds. There was nothing, not even a sign that there had been anything to fall from the sky anywhere near Beverly center. She asked every sales clerk and manager in the place about any number of subjects pertaining to a meteor falling in the area; most of them humored her questions if only to get the latest gossip. She had even managed to go to some of the actual mall staff, the ones that weren’t affiliated with any of the shops, and while pretending to be an architecture student had asked about any recent structural damage. It ended up being a dead end.

Even if there hadn’t been any sort of damage, there was no trace of anything that remotely resembled the stone in her ring that had come from what she understood was a sister, or brother meteorite to the one piece that she wore. That was why after tracking down and making note of all the dust bunnies in the area, she had moved on to anything that sold any type of jewelry. She concentrated on some of the more unique makers of fine jewelry, rather than the places that sold dozens of the same cookie-cutter designs. This had brought her to Tiffany’s, though she knew she had little hope of finding it in Beverly Center Mall. She would have to stalk up and down Rodeo Drive next, which had more shops that would kill for a unique, one-of-a-kind stone that many would pay through the nose for. She knew, she had already gotten several outrageous offers for her ring. She had only been in LA for a few days, and hadn't gotten into the party circuit yet.

She was about to give up on actually allowing herself to enter the dreaded store when she suddenly was struck with an idea. She was so ignorant, why didn't she think of it before? She could just read the minds of everyone in the store. Then she winced, when the next realization hit her. To get that kind of control with her current ability she had to touch people or risk the crushing number of voices that always battered her mental shields overpowering her. And even if she did manage to do either, she wouldn’t know what to look for. There could be several fabulous gems and stones in these people’s minds that could amount to no more that something worldly like diamonds and emeralds. Not meteorites from a time long past.

She slumped, glaring back at the twinkling display cases that graced the front of the store, worried that she might have missed her opportunity to keep a chunk of something she had to understand was pretty powerful because she was a coward. Antigone Bennett was no coward. She trained tricks that could kill her and would make Navy SEALS cringe. She could do this.

In five minutes.

[♦ Minako Aino]

Once again, Minako had evaded her bodyguard, and was on her own as she strolled through the corridors of the Beverly Center Mall. It was nice, to get alone time...as rare and elusive as it was. Sure, she didn't have that many friends -- that wasn't the issue. She wasn't always hanging out with others her age. No, that wasn't what stole away her precious time at all. No, rather it was the agents, the producers, the bodyguards...the price attached to the life of stardom. It was a hefty one, to be sure.

She was grateful, don't get her wrong. She was glad that she had a gift she could share with the world, and that she could make a difference in the lives of many with her charity work. Even still...sometimes, she just wished she could be an ordinary girl. Just for a little while. Of course, with this new mission as a Sailor Soldier, that was NEVER going to happen.

And yet, the whole Sailor Soldier thing seemed more 'normal' to her than the popstar thing.

Sighing, she peered at her reflection in a store window. As usual, she was covered up to keep anyone from recognizing her and mobbing her in the middle of the mall. Her blond (and recognizable trademark) hair was braided into two braids, a newsboy hat crowning her head. A pair of sunglasses was tossed over her eyes (not necessarily the weirdest thing out here...most people were seen with these, even indoors.) She had ensured that her clothing did not scream "look at me, I'm a popstar!", but at the same time allowed her to look through the high-end stores without being stared at. Not that she cared, but...at the same time...attention drawn was bad. Makeup was minimal, and she hardly looked herself: a grand success, if she did say so herself. It had taken years of practice, but she had finally mastered the art of sneaking out into the real world. Sure, there were still those out there who were die-hard enough to recognize her even through this, but she was hoping she didn't have to deal with this today.

She was a girl on a mission.

Though not the soldier one, for once. (Though she always did keep an eye out, just in case.) No, this time she was seeking a birthday present. For her mother. Her poor mother...she had no idea what was going on with Mina lately, and really, Mina hardly understood herself anymore either. But she hated worrying her mother, upsetting her... a nice birthday gift and a dinner together at home where they could just talk would hopefully set things right. The problem was...she had no idea where to begin. What would her mother want? What did she need? It was always so hard to shop for a parent...

She paused outside one store, peering up at the name written across it's entrance. Tiffany's. Mina's blue eyes quickly scanned some of the display cases in the shop windows. Well..diamonds were always nice, right? Her mother might like something nice to wear for all those special events they always had to go to. She glanced at a diamond bracelet in the case, playing with the end of a braid thoughtfully. Would her mother like this...?

[♦ Antigone Bennett]

Antigone had never really had a hard time going anywhere she wanted to go, especially in Los Angeles where the standard was tall, blonde and perfectly tanned with a gaudy taste in clothing. There were times when she was glad that she was a short, petite redhead with the understated style that New Yorkers were famous for, especially when it saved her from getting lectured by her step-mother about getting her picture taken by the paparazzi when her step-mother wasn’t there. And grounded, in high school she spent a lot of her time grounded for simple things like that. It all slowed down after she turned eighteen and was no longer required to see her step-mother, and had tried to give up infamy for an education. Before a year ago she was doing her best to keep out of the tabs, except when she was blowing off steam. Then a year ago it all changed.

And now she was willingly throwing herself to the monsters that ruled Hollywood.

Not that all movie stars, singers and other A-listers were monsters, but some of them were downright nasty pieces of work. She remembered one year at some wrap party of one of her step-mother’s movies when a supporting star got pissed at her for accidentally spilling water on her cotton shirt. She was suitably unimpressed, and afterward avoided that actress and others like her as much as she could possibly manage. But a chance meeting with four girls, a kid and a cat was enough to make her do many of the things she hated: like flying economy and throwing herself into the “high” society of Los Angeles. For the first time in her life she had friends that she was positive weren't in it for the money or the fame, but rather liked her for herself, as unbelievable as that was. Except the cat. She may kill him before things got back to normal.

Her appearance was a little sloppier than usual, since she had received a call during her normal workout at a local gym. She had been in the middle of a release skill when her phone started blaring Paramore, efficiently destroying her concentration and causing her to land flat on her face. As luck would have it, she didn’t break her nose and managed to get the phone before it went to voicemail. Though she wouldn’t admit it, she was kind of glad that she had been dragged out of her work-out. Her old arm injury, the one that kept her from competing in the 2008 Olympic Qualifiers, was bothering her a little more than she liked to admit, and an afternoon’s rest would put it to rights. But that didn’t mean she was exactly pleased to be walking around Beverly Center with her sports gear on. She had her spandex shorts hidden under a pair of black slacks, and the logos on her black and red layered tanks hidden beneath a gray caplet, while a bright red handbag and a pair of red heels finished it off and made her look semi-put together. That wasn’t any excuse for her hair, which she had meticulously flat ironed that morning and was beginning to show it’s curl. Even her quick and simple make-up wasn’t at her usual perfection. She would find a bathroom later and fix it, but right now she had a bigger problem: cowardice.

It had taken almost ten minutes of meditation to finally prepare Antigone for entering the store. She had risen from her bench and was about to finally walk in when she realized there was a girl standing in front of the store that would make a perfect distraction while she checked out the display cases for rare gemstones. Not that she was going to find any, it wasn't likely in this store when they had higher paying customers elsewhere, but she did have to try. So she took a detour from her original destination to look over the shoulder (as much as she could) at what the other girl was looking at. A diamond bracelet shimmered in the lighting that was designed to make it look spectacular. She guessed that the girl could afford it, given her subdued high-end clothing, but looks could be deceiving and she didn't trust herself to read thoughts.

“That bracelet could score you some major brownie points.” she said, before she realized that she had said it. Damn, she wasn't supposed to talk to other people, not without conscience thought. It seemed that her sub conscience was taking the lead this time, since words had materialized out of her supposed-to-be-silent mouth. But she had, and with a mental scolding of her subconscience and a firmer tug on her mental shields, she was ready to face... what? A monster? They hadn't run into any in LA yet. “Sorry for bothering you.” she said, fighting the blush that would inevitably redden her face. “For some reason I can't keep my mouth shut today. I'll leave you alone.”

[♦ Minako Aino]

“That bracelet could score you some major brownie points.”

Startled, Mina's blue eyes darted up away from the bracelet, catching slight of a girl's reflection in the case glass. Well, upon first glance, she could deduct that she wasn't a Negamonster, and she wasn't a crazed fan by the looks of it either. And so the popstar-in-hiding turned around, meeting the other's gaze. The other looked actually quite surprised, and for a moment the blonde wondered if her cover had been blown, and this WAS some sort of fan -- or at least just someone who recognized her. But no, instead, it seemed the other was more surprised that she had spoken up at all, judging by her next words:

“For some reason I can't keep my mouth shut today. I'll leave you alone.”

The girl looked her age, or somewhere near it...dressed in what looked like sports gear (a brave choice for a mall like this, Mina thought) and looking rather embarassed, judging by the faint blush tinging her cheeks. Mina didn't see any harm in speaking with this particular girl, so she broke her usual silence to do so (though she kept her voice lowered to avoid anyone walking by hearing it). "No, please, it's fine. I would appreciate the help, if you know anything about these." she said, gesturing back to the glass case. And it was true. Mina rarely cared about such frivilious things...she had no idea what her mother might like when it came to jewelry. "It's...for my mother. A sort of 'sorry' present, you know?" Her gaze flit back to the bracelet. "I just don't know what she might like..." If it was even diamonds at all.

Maybe she was 'meowing up the wrong tree'. (Mina had never been one to get old sayings right, unfortunately. Something that could prove embarassing, yet 'endearing' when doing public events.)Maybe her mother wouldn't want jewelry at all. But Mina had not a clue where to begin. Her mother had everything, didn't she? What more could she possibly want? Well..except for her husband coming back, but Mina doubted THAT would ever happen...

Realizing she was just pouring out her problems to this girl she didn't even know, she immediately turned back, looking embarassed herself. "I mean...you don't have to stay if you don't want to, I understand...I just..." She paused. How socially awkward she was! -- lack of experience would do that to you. It was different than just answering scripted questions and interviewing...you had to come up with your OWN answers in social situations. "Forgive me for just rambling on." She toyed with her braid again absently. And this is why she didn't have friends, she thought to herself bitterly. Or one of the many reasons, at least...

[♦ Antigone Bennett]

This chance encounter was actually becoming interesting, for once at least. The poor girl looked just as surprised and a little bit suspicious at the sight of her. Now Antigone was intrigued, most people who saw her were quick to file her under the harmless section just because of her small stature, and unless you caught her at a bad time she just didn't look dangerous. For part of that she was grateful, it meant more people would ignore her and leave her alone, and they were more likely to talk in front of her a let her in on their little secrets before she made a power play. If she ever had to make one. There were always social climbers who say Tig as a danger, and many had tried to crush her rather than leave her alone. So far she had stayed ahead of the curve.

She was turning to leave, head into the store and just get the whole thing over with when she heard the other girl ask her about her opinion on the jewelery in the window. She turned back, and took a good look at the bracelet. Oh, it was pretty, but made to look more like a winter piece than a spring and summer piece. Figures that the people at Tiffany's would try to sell off the leftovers by putting them in the displays in a mall to get rid of them. It was one of those horrible tourist traps that owners employed, and the saddest part was that it worked. She had employed the technique several times in her mother's New York Boutique, setting up displays that advertised old and new stock when the season changed. It made a faster sale so she could just display that season's hottest articles of cloth without having to resort to a -shudder- sale.

It was Tig's experience, after seven years of a runway-worthy mother, and nineteen years of an A-lister stepmother, that women of all walks of life liked exactly one thing in common: jewels. Sure they liked various degrees of it, from the simple and elegant to the gaudy pieces created to catch people's attention and hold it. Diamonds were definitely a catch-all too, the high-quality colorless kind went with anything and everything depending on what color metal was used. Even then you could manage to pair them with anything that you could find if you used a little ingenuity, something that Antigone had in abundance when it came to fashion.

In reality, Tig didn't mind listening to people talk, as long as it didn't mess with her concentration and whatever she was doing. And besides, she was kind of enjoying this. The poor girl was having a harder time than she did usually when she could barely keep her thoughts straight. “No, it's ok. You could say this kind of thing is my... speciality.” Tig said, looking back into the case and examining some of the other pieces. This would be so much easier if she had inherited some of her mother's knack for knowing just what people wanted. Instead she got a stupid case of telepathy, with all the problems. She wasn't exactly lying though, she had a good eye. It was what allowed her to work at her mom's company without her buisness managers shoving her out the door so she could enjoy her trust fund while they were left in peace.

“So, can you give me an idea of what your mom dresses like?” Tig asked turning back to the blond with a quizzical look. If this woman was anything like her step-monster was like she could probably narrow it down quicker. Or maybe she was a manager chic. This was why she had to ask questions like that when going through an intermediary. So she would find something that would work. “Does she wear a lot of bright colors, or typical LA chic, or even business suits. Whatever comes to your mind first.”

[♦ Minako Aino]

"No, it's ok. You could say this kind of thing is my... speciality.”

Mina nodded slowly, watching as the other girl returned her gaze to the glass cases. Well...she would certainly appreciate the help...and she could always get a second opinion from the seller to be sure that this person was indeed speaking the truth about the pieces she recommended. Not that Mina's mother would even know the difference if something was 'in' or not...

“So, can you give me an idea of what your mom dresses like?”

Blinking, she focused upon the girl again. "Uhm...oh." That was a good question. What WOULD one call her mother's sense of style? She did what she could to stay 'hip' for the sake of Minako's career, when she was out in the public eye...but what would one even call that? "Well, she dresses fashionably, I suppose." she began, tilting her head as she pictured her mother. "Stylish, but not like, well, some of those moms who still think they are fifteen." That sort of thing was kind of...strange. She didn't really know how else to describe it, but luckily, the other girl was offering a few suggestions to her. Listening carefully, Mina considered each of them. Bright colors? Not really... maybe... "I'd say a mix of the latter two, I guess. She's in the spotlight often, so she has to look presentable. It's not always business suits, but its...classy!" That was a good word to describe it. "Yes, classy."

She offered the other girl a slight smile, wringing her hands. "Does that help any?" she asked, feeling like she was just rambling and not really giving any useful information at all. It was hard talking to people without scripted answers or a topic she was more knowledged in, she thought. She certainly wasn't used to it, and was making a grand ole fool of herself trying...