Stars In Her Eyes

Yes

I’ve been to the mountains once.

Unless you enjoy bundling up like a bear, I wouldn’t suggest going.

How was it?

Oh, don't worry, not going anywhere. My feet are firmly planted in Los Angeles. I like it here as much as anybody else would.

#lucille mather #chat

One Day//Dorothy and Rita

It was her day off, but she wound up spending it as The Last Station anyway. All that played was the radio, no live music was played on Mondays. Not really enough of a crowd for it. It was only an hour after opening, so most people wouldn’t even think of being there yet, but Dorothy couldn’t think to spend another minute at her apartment. She’d thought about sitting at the pier, but decided against it. The crowds were too much. For someone who relied on them, she wasn’t really fond of being in crowds.

She listened to the man on the radio babbling on and on about something or another, at this point, she was only half listening, thinking about everything going on at the moment. Or the total lack of happenings, in her life anyway. She was still singing at a bar, living with a brother who can’t hold a job, and seeing anti-communist posters all over the city. The way she saw it, nothing was happening fast enough.

She tuned back in when a singer came on the radio. Jo Stafford, a pop artist who’d just married Paul Weston. There was a pang in her chest. This was everything she wanted to be, it was almost like the radio was mocking her. She was famous and recently married, everyone new her. She had everything it seemed, she even showed up on the television some times, or in the movies. She stared at the radio and sighed, "That’ll be me one day," she muttered to no one in particular. She shook her head and took another sip of her water.

#one day #dorothy miller #para #t b h the first two paragraphs can be ignored i'm so dumb #i hope it's enough : /

Wandering was an activity Rita avoided, but her creative sessions got the best of her. Los Angeles was a city too exciting to simply sit idly. In her spare time, which was when she was out of the studio nor going over camera techniques, Rita was looking for possible stories. Rita had her own experiences, but most of them were the result of chasing such. She loved talking to people, especially at the Pier. The children would tell the silliest stories, but their parents and guardians would tell of simple anecdotes. Of course, such anecdotes still carried meaning, usually far more than one realised. Both ways gave conveyed such emotion. There was the same joy within a couple describing their first encounter years before and a child eating his well-deserved ice cream.

The Last Station stayed true to its name in Rita's mind. She wouldn't believe it if anyone easily believed that she could be found here, but she still needed a break, a cooling drink; she couldn't be opposed to that. Although there was an urge to try something stronger, Rita tried to let it only pass through her thoughts and stay no longer than she needed. Hearing a radio stirred something inside her. Her own had broken. She wasn't quite sure whether to buy a new one—as the popular option was—or find a way to fix. Preferring the latter, she'd waited for a long time. She was definitely behind on the latest news outside of her own knowledge. The initial static was so foreign, despite the fact she'd tune it quite often before. There were a lot of generic news announcements, things Rita could give less care about. It was intertwined with advertisements. The repetitive jingles and booming voices caught her attention. Theatricality was her weakness.

She'd nearly finished her glass when music finally started playing. It was an art Rita could appreciate, but not knowing it past basic foundations was frustrating at times. Hearing the quasi-familiar bartender reply to it startled her initially. This was a depressing place to be, and hearing talk burst out disturbed its odd atmosphere. "Singing on the radio?" Rita inquired further. "Never heard you sing but I'm sure you'll make it. It's not like no one else is trying too." The words weren't too much of a shock. Rita was among one of the many who dreamed large and wide.

Yes

That just might work considering Los Angeles will be hot for a little while longer.

But I am ready for hot chocolate and sitting by my fire.

Less people on the beach might say otherwise, sadly. Less competition for ice cream, right?

I've yet to experience real cold myself, as fifty degrees doesn't really bring snow-capped mountains to anyone's mind. Ice cream will do for now.

#lucille mather #chat

Yes

Ice cream sounds delicious

Don’t you think?

Maybe we can convince ourselves summer is still 'round the corner?

#lucille mather #chat

thronemother

H-how do you know when you are really in love someone? I mean…what are the signs?

I need to know for…uhm…a role.

#oh my god rita #valerie wood #chat

Wouldn't it really depend on your character? You'd have to look at how they've been with others, I suppose, for a comparison.

001

Rita cares a great deal about her look, her aesthetic. It isn't necessarily her priority, however. Looking great isn't for a man nor for her business—although it does help in both cases—but it's the general impression a well-dressed woman provides.

It ties into her mentality and attitude towards her work. Fashion is driven by similar thought processes as story telling. If there ever was a Rita Ortiz made film, it would be extremely polished with all aspects tied together as a singular force. It's only natural that it spills over into her clothes. Rita doesn't really spend her hard-earned money on any accessories. Perhaps, she'll treat herself to something every once in a while. What she really cares about are the patterns. With the war over, she's glad there's gradually more choice for less money. She's definitely going to try to get one of these sweaters for the winter or even one of these nice looking these for her day-offs.

That's all for her spare time—a waning luxury. At the studio, she dresses plainly. A light-coloured cotton blouse is a guarantee, perhaps the collar will be switched up to still prove a sense of flair. In the war years, she would wear trousers. Nowadays, less so with more skirts. At the studio, her appearance doesn't matter as much. She's not the star in front of the camera, but certainly the force behind it.

Most linked images taken from the 1952 catalogue.

#hc #rbprompt1 #okAY i found a online thing with a sears catalogue from 1952 #i'm not sure if rita could afford it or whatever because i'm not american and neither am i from the 50s so i wouldn't know the context of th #e price #and it's all white people too???

What is a calliope?

I refuse to play a fake instrument and be someone’s performing monkey.

And none of those children are old enough to appreciate real music.

Truth be told, you're probably right.

There's nothing wrong with trying something new. You can't alienate the kids, though. Try your best and they'll be interested, hopefully?

#vincent grise #chat

What is a calliope?

This is not something I signed up for. I went to work and they told me I was playing this bastard piano thing.

It's one day, and all for fun! Can't take it for that long?

I'm sure some of the kids would enjoy it a lot.

#vincent #chat

What is a calliope?

And why do I have to play one?

#i'm loving this image of vincent trying to play a calliope #also i was sure i published this but it was in my drafts oops?#chat #vincent

I think you should be asking yourself 'why not'.

wehavetoastonishthem

Best lesson from a Disney movie

#these tears are gross #media

Back to Work || Rita & Valerie

thronemother

There was magic on the set of a movie. It didn’t matter if the script was awful, the director was half drunk and the sets recycled from the 1930s, the moment that Valerie stepped onto that sound stage and the camera began rolling, she felt tingling in her bones, a lightness in her head and she ascended to another world. A better world. Even if every part felt the same, every character was pretty but one dimensional, Valerie loved being in front of the camera and creating this new world, and becoming someone else, even if it was for only a few moments at a time. She lived for those moments.

And this film was no different. Although Valerie had been hesitant about taking the role, she was glad that she had. If only because she had the opportunity to work with Rita. She was intrigued to see how her friend had grown since the last film they had done together. She also had to admit that she was looking forward to also showing Rita how much she too had honed her craft since those early, nervous days. Valerie knew both women had certainly come a very, very long way. And still had miles yet to go in order to reach the places they both wanted to be. But for now…they had Marks Productions. And they had this film. That would be enough.

The current scene was simple enough, a declaration of love between pretty (and surprisingly glamorous) farm girl Valerie and her solider beau, played by a new comer, a man who was still in awe of the camera, the people milling about, the bright lights and even Valerie herself. He seemed nice enough, but his performance felt flat and was uninspiring to Valerie. She knew that he was playing it safe, but it annoyed her that the studio had paired her with a new comer. Didn’t they think she could hold her own against the bigger Marks Production stars? Or was the director truthful when he gushed, “He can learn so much from you, Valerie! Teach him! Mold him! Let a little of your star power rub off on the kid.” She had agreed but only begrudgingly and only when she realized that she would get top billing. That and the studio was putting serious money behind this production, new costumes and sets, a director that wasn’t awful and even a veteran actor that Valerie did respect, playing the part of her father. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all. She just needed to figure out how to get the kid to…loosen up.

Just because her love interest was as stiff as a board in his portrayal didn’t mean that Valerie had to be. She had played this type of girl a hundred times and she knew how to milk each word and every movement of her body, she understood how much power a single downwards glance held or a how an elegant arch of her hand against her heart could make audiences swoon. As the scene finished, Valerie was standing close to the young man, with her hand resting gently on his shoulder, her blue green eyes downcast demurely as he rested a hand tentatively on her waist. As they held that position for a few lingering moments staying close, Valerie wondered if the cover up the make up artists had caked onto her neck had covered the marks left by Thomas’ wander lips. In the glaring lights of the stage, she certainly hoped so…

As soon as the director yelled “CUT!” the man stepped back and gasped, running off the set before Valerie could ask what was wrong. She wondered if perhaps he understood just out of his depth he was, or if her performance had been too heavy handed.

With a shrug, Valerie turned towards the cameras, where Rita sat, rolling her eyes slightly as she moved towards her friend. Perhaps she should go easy on the kid…For now…She was pulled from that thought by Rita’s congratulations. She smiled widely, “Thank you, darling. I want to make sure that you are enjoying the view,” she winked and nodded towards the set, “The script is a little…one dimensional but I’m trying to bring something more to it.” She glanced over towards the director who had followed after the actor, speaking to him in low but urgent tones. Valerie frowned, “I don’t think my beau there can handle it though. They really should have told him what he was getting himself into.” She trailed off and watched the actor and director for a few moments longer before she turned her gaze back to Rita.

“Are these new cameras?” she asked, curious as she regarded the large piece of equipment, something that (regrettably) Valerie knew very little about…despite how it was her livelihood. Her focus was always what was happening in front of the camera, not inside of it.

#ahh i hope this is okay #sorry for not matching in terms of length #valerie wood #back to work #para

It was nice to have a friend at work, it really was. It always made just that much of a difference, as most around the studio didn't care for Rita's efforts towards her rise, which didn't impress Rita herself at all most of the time. She was sometimes overwhelmed at how unambitious some people were. She always assumed as most had been handed their jobs through nepotism or they had connections that indirectly levelled them up, not the determination and perseverance that was the most logical method. Therefore most didn't have the right approach to their storytelling, so it was a shame that most didn't recognise Rita's perspective on things. Well, most didn't start as low as Rita did anyway, forgetting the core of what a film is. She was lucky for that chance one day where she could explore what was handed to them. There was always someone who seemed ungrateful for their opportunity, and in her mind, Valerie's co-star seemed an archetypal example. It wasn't as if she utterly hated such people, but a distaste for them was difficult to keep hidden.

"It's not exactly the type of movie I would spend my own money on at the box office," Rita remarked in return to Valerie's comments about the working film, biting her lip slightly as she replayed the scenes they'd shot today in her head where there were obvious chemistry imbalances. Oddly enough, she would've been the target demographic the studio would've had in mind. A single woman wanting to escape in a world where no matter what she'd always end up with her most beloved through times of difficulty and obstacle. Yet if only Rita's goals reflected it. She'd had so the drawbacks and pitfalls like any other, but she wanted success, especially not the kind they tended to show on the screen. Her life wasn't a feature length spectacular that wrapped up nicely. "But," she continued, "one dimensional doesn't even cover this, no matter how many lines there are." A quiet chuckle escaped Rita's mouth at her half-hearted attempt to make a joke, a last resort to defy her tiredness.

Rita was taken aback by Valerie's curiosity with the cameras. It wasn't everyday that one asked about them or even noticed their presence, but a smile plastered her face instead, gladly willing to tell her friend about them to divert themselves from the movie and her runaway co-star, even if the question asked was a small one. "Yes, they are," she said with a pleased tone. The cameras were a sense of pride at times and Rita didn't hesitate to show that. It was on a dolly, and raised from ground level but Rita tried to present them all the same. "They're absolutely wonderful, although very quite to the ones you might've seen me carry around before. I don't know if you notice, but they do change every so often. The technology just makes them so much better." Rita added a slight shrug, as one never knew exactly how much others did about the other parts that made the mechanism known as film production. As she grew older, Rita began to specialise more, especially around the art of camerawork. General dreams of stardom were vague, but she did slowly realise that if she wanted to direct films, she had to have control over every single aspect—not just the cameras. It was a scary image, but one that was barely thought of. Her aspirations and dreams blocked such a vision anyway.

It was much more fun when the cameras had dollies attached, but the scene didn't involve much movement so the director had said a tripod would do. It was, in Rita's reluctant opinion, a better choice. "I was unaware you'd be so curious," Rita said as she stepped away from them.

virginia-harris-deactivated2022

A carnival? Oh goodness!

Awfully kind of the mayor, even I can't resist the temptation of taking a day off.

#virginia harris #chat

"Not in the least, I’ve been working here since I was legal to," she said, shaking her head. It was a bit of a disappointment to have been stuck there for around seven years with no improvement, but she was going to live.

"Well, listen, if you don’t tell my boss, I’ll give you a free one if he doesn’t show up in the next few minutes."

#that's actually really convenient timing wow #dorothy miller #chat

"It's nice to know I'm in good hands in this depressing place," she said while looking around Bars weren't her common hangout and a complete contrast from the more lively places she preferred in her spare time.

"You really think so? I'm not sure how upset one can be about one drink."

#Tl;dr is that my laptop is broken ahh #ooc

"Not too odd after working here for some time," she said, nodding.

"Waiting on a late date then?" she asked, fixing the cocktail, "You know, I’ll make sure to direct him to Robert if you leave and he shows up…"

"How long is that?" Rita sat up straight. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Yes, I am." She said before sighing. "Thank you. I haven't been on one of these in a long time so I don't want this to be a waste, honestly."

#dorothy miller #chat

"As long as you promise not to throw up, I’ll get you whatever you’d like," she replied, smiling.