Tal(k)

Taliesin “Tal” Collier everyone’s late night sweetheart. cancelledhq

[taliesincollier]

love bites ( 1999 ) / ★★★ ★ ☆

genre : horror (?) / romantic comedy directed by : beau thomas . starring : vivien barnes ( as elizabeth fairbrooke ) & taliesin collier ( as alexander madison )

“ this is not your typical romance. ”

                Alexander is a young man trying to make it as a successful artist in the big city, as far as he’s concerned life is pretty great. he has an amazing job, and he’s just moved in to an amazing apartment with his gorgeous fiancée Eliza. that is until a night of passion has Eliza turn Alex into a creature of the night.

                If your immediate response to the words “Love Bites” is to imagine Taliesin Collier half naked sprawled across satin sheets, then bazinga ! you know exactly the topic of tonight’s review !

                Beau Thomas shows that taking a risk on new actors can pay off, having new comer Taliesin Collier play opposite of Hollywood Royalty Vivien Barnes. Casting notable actors Chandler Barr and Avery Levinson as side characters in favor of the welsh actor was a bold choice that seemingly paid well.

                We begin with what seems to be a regular day for rather boring writer Alexander Madison ( played by Collier. ) who is seemingly having a hard time finding inspiration for his novel. we get a handful of information shoved down our throats in a rather delicate way. the film explains he’s only just moved in with his girlfriend, and that the two are engaged. ( we learn this when his mother calls to scold him about withholding the information. ) luckily for us the film picks up quickly from there, as we learn he is late for his date with girlfriend Eliza ( Barnes. )

                Things get steamy after the date leading, as the two fumble into bed. The scene ends with Eliza sinking her teeth into her boyfriend. ( a scene done in one take, as Barnes supposedly left a noticeable mark on her costar’s shoulder. )

                From there we see the transformation from human to vampire begin. it starts with Alexander’s skin becoming almost sickly pale, his eyes turning from their natural warm brown to a striking honey gold, enlarged canine teeth.

                To avoid spoiling the film further, I’ll stop my rambling here. ( though if you’re interested, Beau Thomas’ Love Bites can be found on Netflix. )

TLDR : The film follows Alexander as he adjusts to his newfound unlife, which really isn’t all that bad considering he gets to share a coffin with Vivien Barnes. From what our readers have said, still sparks nostalgia in many viewers, leaving it with four out of five stars.

[taliesincollier]

clem.

iris.

“Yeah, I do.” To say so was an understatement; Iris had been taking copious notes of the previous shows, including but not limited to who won, what dares they took, what dares they rejected, the personality of the hosts, the intensity of the dares, the ratings they got, and the settings in which they took place. Half of their reason for this was development for their own show Roll Call – every aspiring contract should know what kind of stuff Prometheus will do and if they’re up to it. The other half was self-preservation. That one doesn’t need explaining.

It’s because of their notes that Iris knows how difficult escape will be. Would it be better to go through all of the dares? Iris kept track of how many dares were on each level. Round one ran out of dares quickly. The later levels had a greater number of dares to pull from, and as a result, there was a greater risk of it lasting longer. Considering that Iris and Taliesin were scheduled at four o’clock, Iris guessed they could be here all night. That is, if they even survived. For Iris to live, they’d have to say yes to each one. At only 420 points, they couldn’t risk refusing.

The utter lack of enthusiasm on Taliesin made Iris wonder if they had an ally instead of an opponent. Iris had to strategize. Both of them wanted to get out of here, clearly. Neither wants the other dead. Already, they were planning to buy a lot of time for each dare (as was realistic, anyway) so that Taliesin could hunt around for clues. There’s no way they’d run out of dares quickly. Not at their level. “Let’s start searching.”

“Guys! This is awesome!” Though the two people she was stuck in the room with looked less than thrilled, Clem was already enamored with the setting she’d found herself in. If only Theo could have been here too, they would have killed it on that claw machine. Instead they’re talking about getting out of the room, which seems like a total waste. She bounded around, poking at the different animatronics. “Total throwback, who knew!” As for what they were doing in the room she hadn’t been taking too many notes. She knew she was supposed to be a chaperone, but she wasn’t a narc, they could take the lead if they wanted. So if they wanted to search then that was that.

“What are we looking for?” She turned with confusion before looking back to the games that were around. God, was that the jackpot game? She loved that one. Jump as hard as you could and get the tickets, she could give it a single jump and see what happened. While they were searching at least, she had to have a little fun—this was an arcade!

She gave it one hard jump on the pad, and it started buzzing as though she’d won something. “Yes!” She clapped her hands together, drawing attention to her being very much not with the team, waiting for a reward. Get punched by everyone in the room rolled across the screen, which was not a jackpot as far as she was concerned. “Guys, hey guys? I think this machine is fucking with me. Take a look at this!”

               the host continues his search as Iris speaks, they seem competent enough, he hasn’t watched a lot of roll call, a show based on gifting people with contracts isn’t his style, but he has interviewed a few of their contestants. they seem calculated, calm enough to be an asset, and he is glad the they ended up as partners.  with Clem, Taliesin feels as though he’s been asked to parent a child, though they hadn’t met before this, first impressions are important, and she seemed excitable, impulsive, it’s dangerous. this point is only proven when he hears feet collide with game pad, it draws his attention away from his spot near prize counter, looking for some sort of door. 

               gaze flickers to other host, before he moves closer, to see the girl has triggered the game, their first dare. not only that, but a dare that will halt progress on the escape, a dare that involves all of them. bold white letters gliding across black screen, almost mockingly. the chariot : get punched by everyone in the room. he knows that the game would have started one way or another, and does his best not to hold it against her. it can only get worse from here, but they are meant to be a team, if he’s to be stuck with them for the rest of the broadcast, he feels it’s important to keep that mindset.

               “i’ll take this one.” he offers, holding no ill will against Iris, he couldn’t imagine hitting them, though if he did he certainly wouldn’t hit hard... maybe they will spare him the same courtesy. “though i do ask you take off any rings before you do.” he wouldn’t want anyone to break a finger, and he certainly wouldn’t want an expensive bruise, poor Catherine has had to cover enough of them already. 

[taliesincollier]

venomousclairity‌:

Waddling. The little shit was actually waddling across the floor back to Tal’s feet. Like he wasn’t ready to bite into her ankle if given the chance. She knew how those beasts thought. She pointed the toe of her shoe at it before she looked back to the TV personality. “Well behaved my ass. An animal is an animal.” People have laughed at her fear in the past but Claire didn’t care. All she had to go on was her memory and experiences. 

“Why do you care if people like your dog? Aren’t you famous?” She was of the stand point that anyone worth any fuss shouldn’t care what others thought as long as the world kept spinning. “I’m surprised they let you bring your dog on set actually. I figured there were rules for this shit.” 

               why does he care? of course he cares, bwlyn has never bitten anyone other than Tal once or twice but only ever when playing and never terribly hard. “he’s my dog, of course i care what people think of him.” he was a gift, that technically wasn’t his dog, he was Amelia’s and it makes the situation that much worse. 

               Taliesin doesn’t seem particularly surprised, it seems that she doesn’t know his show very well. “my set my rules, dear... as long as he doesn’t make a mess i can have him in the studio.” actor’s under contract get what they want, if Taliesin wants to keep the corgi on set, he gets to keep him on set.

[taliesincollier]

russelltorrance‌:

Dear. The word sinks like a stone, falling to the pit of Russell’s stomach with a heavy thud. It’s flicked off so casually from Taliesin’s lips, like he’s given no thought to it at all, but it is a black hole to the other man, sucking everything in. It’s impossible to ignore, a gravitational pull that is unrelenting and unwanted. With his hands already on his wrists, it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility for the older of the two to feel Russell’s tendons flex even more so in their quest to hold the host still.

Inebriation affords fumbled and misplaced feelings. Where they stem from is anyone’s guess, but the question stings to hear. Why would anyone want Russell Torrance? But why wouldn’t Taliesin Collier want him? Why is he placing all the blame on him? Casting it to say that it’s all his fault? As if he bears no responsibility?

“You did,” he answers, voice still remaining low, a rumble that cascades from his tongue and is practically lapped over Taliesin’s lips. Maybe it’s from his own mind, but whatever face the host gives to him it’s interpreted as something like denial of the accusation. “No. Goddamn right it was you. It was all you when you didn’t break my jaw. What man doesn’t do something about shit like that?” Alcohol-laced breath lingers heavily against him as he goes on, firm in his belief, if only to make himself feel better. “You wanted it. You liked it.”

               you did. he blinks at blatant statement, the confidence it’s said with, as if Russell knows, as if he really truly knows. he goes still, fright or flight instinct causes tense in muscles as he realizes the other man might be more aware than he lets on. gaze flickers to lips as he speaks, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly as other man speaks. gaze lingers there, and it takes him a moment to recover, he’ll blame it on the alcohol, the amount he’s ingested. “i did.”

               “because i like when men slap my arse,” he says it in such a way to say : you aren’t special but it comes out as admittance. defeat, tone lower, quieter than before. gaze moves back to Russell’s eyes.  “-- i liked when my wife did it too. you aren’t an exception to the rule just because you’re...” he huffs, annoyed by the ex-manager and even more so with himself. “you.” 

               he’s stopped fighting against other’s grip, though hands remain placed at his wrists, feeling pulse, the muscle beneath skin. “so yes, i did like it, and if you’re going to keep acting as if that is the worst thing in the world, you can bite me, Torrance.”  words are almost hissed from between clenched teeth, shame bubbling anger in his stomach, curling anxiety around his throat.

[taliesincollier]

location : prometheus productions studio A16 .  time : 3:59 PM .  @pathof-eyeris​  / @clemfehr​ 

                 four o’clock plays terribly with his schedule, tal talk usually filming at five, it feels wrong to be away from the studio.  “ -- i’m going to go out on a limb and say we all know how this works?” he says it the same way he would on the set for tal talk, as if he’s speaking to the audience and not the other two Prometheus employees. 

               he’s observing the room, taking note of prize counter, of tickets set on tables, or bits of trash strewn across the floor for realism.  there is a very specific feeling that comes with places like these, the air is sticky, it smells of grease and sweets and sweat,  it carries discomfort, the room radiates with it.

               animatronic stares with unblinking eyes, Taliesin watches it curiously as if it might begin to move on it’s own. he knows not to doubt such an idea, the special effects department is well funded for this sort of occasion. he wonders if there is a camera hidden behind yellowed glass eye, it makes him uneasy, he doesn’t hide it, knows that is what people came for, the shock factor of it all, and while the host still carries himself with respect, he allows a peak behind the curtains, a glimpse of honesty in his usual optimistic facade. taking a steadying breath and adjusting his bowtie, Taliesin turns towards the others. “shall we then?” 

[taliesincollier]

russelltorrance:

Russell makes a face instantly when he hears Taliesin’s muttering. He already wants to punch a hole in the wall, almost came close to slamming the other’s face into it before doing so, but it’s coming in waves and luckily enough it’s ebbing at the moment. “Go screw yourself,” he hisses back into the glass that’s being tilted back against his lips, swallowing down the remnants of another drink he’s sorely missed.

Even before the glass is settled down on the counter, when he hears the host continue on, it’s that first sentence that’s uttered that sends the wave roaring back. The free hand clutches the front of his shirt, just above his chest, balling all the excess fabric that’s available into his fist, and then his face turns to him to hear the rest. It’s meant to be a warning. One wrong word that anyone can overhear and he’s a dead man walking. He’s already living on drunken good graces that are rarer than seeing God himself.

“I’m not defending myself to you,” his words spark against the voice that carries them like an ember that’s tossed from its flame. There’s nothing in this world that Russell wants right now more than for Taliesin to have the memory wiped from his memory, and for it to be scoured from his own, too. He wanted their relationship to stay at one note and only one note: the kind that’s built on split lips and broken bones, not one that has Taliesin’s eye throwing pity or words turning soft and wanting to give him assurance that it’s all nothing. How much torture can he handle when Taliesin is the one that’s going to play like a knight in shining armor, as if he just came down from his ivory tower?

The buttons are creating marks against his palm from his grip now, but he gives him an answer finally, as low as one can be strummed out from his vocal cords. “They don’t have enough money to ever give you me.”

                another grab at expensive clothing, pulling and jerking show host around to the point he feels like a bloody rag doll at this point. “of all the things you’ve ever done, you think I need an explanation for that... really dear, it is a wonder how your mind works.” hands grabs at Russell’s wrist in an attempt to pry him off as he awaits answer, feels material pulled taut in his grip. efforts pause as other speaks. that answer apparently isn’t what Taliesin expected, shock floods soft features, drawing eyebrows towards hairline, mouth parted ever so. he is silent, a rarity for man who’s job is to talk.

                he feels like maybe he should laugh, or maybe he should have just paid for the bottle and left Russell to his own devices. he certainly shouldn’t have sat with him, shouldn’t have started drinking with him. he might just be thankful alcoholic flush has already tinted features pink. he tries to remain calm, collected, tries to steady tone into something that says he’s biting his tongue, words that having hidden meaning, oh please, as if you haven’t been chasing prometheus’ money for years. but the statement is a jump in usual pattern, something is different... defensive.

                “who the hell said i would want you?” Taliesin snaps almost furious if it weren’t for the shame that lingers just beneath his words. host does his best to shove the feeling down, to make it stop kicking, as if it’s that simple. 

[agxntkeen]

[taliesincollier]

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Jayne, Tal was so quick to secure a spot in everyone’s hearts in this roleplay, and really it’s what he deserves!! What a unique and fun character--I just feel bad that he has to put up with Russell’s antics. Why do you do that to him? He deserves so much better!! Your thirst for some random broadway actor is second only to Aslee’s thirst for Bill Hader, and while I don’t get the random white men hype I think it’s very cute and I fully support you. You go, Baby Jayne! You go!

sending me love and roasting me in the same anonymous ask? what a power move. asdfhkfl i love all of y’all and i’m soft, you can’t just do this to me. : ’ ) i love this and appreciate this and i’m asdhskdlfp 💕✨

[taliesincollier]

msjadebellamy‌.

She loves it when she’s watched, especially when it’s like this. Taliesin is the host; she’s on his show–the one that has his name attached directly in the title and lit up to make people remember it; but it’s Jade who has hijacked everything. She might as well have torn down all those beautifully designed signs and replaced it with her own. Jade Bellamy. Talk Show Hostess and Dominatrix. On the show tonight is Taliesin Collier, vying to be the only one who gets on his knees for her and musical guest Maroon 5. Truly iconic. “You’re still special to me,” she assures with a tilt of the chin, the hint of a kiss through the air at him to quell his disappointed tone, even in its playfulness. Her eyes are stroking up his exposed neck, skin that has been revealed to her with him craning over. The tip of her toes sink into it, against the carotid artery, where the nerves gather and exactly where one should press when asphyxiation turns sensual. As he reverts back to his native tongue once more, she leans forward. Her chest just brushes against her knee. Plunging neckline giving tease in the movement, knowing exactly how to work every angle and asset at her disposal. It’s her hand that reaches out, though, fingertips gliding through his hair–the very strands that outline his forehead and then temple. “Does it look like I’m bored?” she asks as her toes give a final little press forward to his neck before sliding down his front in a slow pace. “But it’s not a good lesson, if I don’t know what it means.” Her smirk is heavy as her fingers drip down to the corner of his jaw. “Come closer and tell me.”

He hopes the give and take of the game has turned more exciting for her, he knows the audience is certainly eating out of the palm of her hand. The dynamic has turned in an unexpected way and it is far more exciting. He closes his eyes, focuses on the sound of the audience, the lights, anything but the fact he’s on his knees, then a hand glides through his hair and he has to bite his tongue, if only because he likes that a bit more than he should. His hair is soft, salt and pepper ringlets he hasn’t decided if he wants to dye back to chestnut brown because he likes the grey. He opens his eyes and sighs when she speaks.

Host shifts up on his knees, shifts closer in a far too well practiced move, a tell that this really isn’t his first time doing something like this. Though if it was for a part or more personal reasons... Well, that’s between Taliesin and Joan. 

He lowers his voice, accent tilts away from Welsh to something more American, something a bit bastardized, practiced. He makes sure the mic at her neckline won’t pick it up. “what if I don’t like share.” He pulls back with a wink and the act seems a little more bratty than it was before.

[taliesincollier]

gilded-castle‌.

“Of course, of course.” He always had a place in his heart for such animals. In his childhood, he remembered a frightening neighborhood dog barely kept back behind a chain link fence on the way to school. A doberman pinscher. He avoided it, at first. Then, he learned to read it. He learned how not to trigger its harsh barking, and then how to gain its trust, and later, what kind of treats the dog liked. By the time he was about thirteen, the dog had become a calm friend of his. Compared to that dog, this little corgi was easy. Small, friendly, and simply having entered his life through happenstance. 

Jerome gave the corgi’s head a good rub before he stood up, placing his hands on his own thighs for support. He wiped his hands on his pant leg. “Something like that. They waste no time between production and promotion. I wouldn’t be surprised if I were asked to sleep in the studio overnight. What about you? I’m sure you’re a busy, busy man.”

               He watches the two and seems to relax further, which in the wrong company could be dangerous. Agents have been calling, trying to negotiate who was worth what. Tal Talk wasn’t the most popular show on the air, but it was certainly up there if only for the nostalgia. He’s been in the game a long time. The corgi paws at his shoe and Taliesin snaps his fingers, drawing the dog’s attention back to him, kneeling to clip the dog’s leash to his collar to put a stop to anymore mischief. “More than usual, but with all the promotions...” The points system has not been in his favor with interviews. “Filling empty slots at the moment... It feels as though the work never ends, though it seems like we have that in common, hm?” He’s been bringing more work home than usual, and it might bother him more than it should. 

[taliesincollier]

neither-then-naor-now‌.

“If he’s old enough to get himself cancelled, he’s not a kid.” Joseph knew that. He was a child actor once upon a time, constantly being reminded of what would happen to his mother if his performance faltered for a second. What decision would Joseph have made had he not been signed on as a child? Joseph had about a million guesses, but no certain answer aside from not thist. “He’s just a stupid adult. Stupid adults are worse.”

               Distaste flickers over his features at the statement, it seems... Distasteful. “Just because he was over the age of eighteen doesn’t mean he was an adult.” The brain is still developing until the age of twenty five, though Taliesin’s view on people being children doesn’t stop until they’re thirty, most actors don’t live that long. “Legal adulthood and maturity are very different things.”

[taliesincollier]

eloisebardot‌.

“You and me both, Bwlyn.” She laughed, eyes flitting up to the talk show host. It was something young girls and little dogs had in common: mischief. It was always so interesting trying to carry on a conversation with Taliesin, toeing the lines that were so glaringly obvious. It wasn’t that she cared about his personal opinion so much as she was trying to avoid a mention in his opening monologue ( although she and bwlyn might make a cute anecdote ). She wondered if he knew how much power he held, if anyone reminded him.

“He doesn’t mean you’re the eleventh smartest here.” She smiled down again, wondering when the polite point to stop petting the dog would be. His hair was going to stay on her blouse for quite some time. “You’re definitely top three.”

With the leash clipped she finally stood back up, “I’d say he has excellent taste, but I want to be humble.” She giggled, it’s supposed to be a joke. Humility, even in the best of situations, was not a trait that helped pull stars along. “He’s so sweet! Does he know any tricks? Being so smart and all.”

               He listens with some amusement, only feeling a little bad for making the girl feel as if she had to stop petting the dog. “Standard set, I suppose.” Taliesin snaps, and the dog sits, a twirl of his finger and the corgi lays and rolls over. “Most of which he won’t do without the promise of a treat.” The dog perks at the word, and Taliesin turns his gaze to the golden little monster.

               “Manipulative, that’s what you are.” There’s no malice in his tone, and Bwlyn seems more than happy with the attention. He says something else and the dog waddles in a series of little circles. “Good boy.” He turns his attention back to the girl. “He was meant to be a show dog but...” He motions at Bwlyn as if the dog could explain himself. “He was a bit excitable so... He gifted to me instead.” That is to say he knows quite a few tricks. 

[taliesincollier]

russelltorrance‌.

Any language that isn’t English, deep-fried and tied with a bow stamped with In God We Trust on it, is just downright unpatriotic, but worse than that: it’s pretentious. Russell throws him a look that signifies exactly that, no matter how small the one Welsh word is, no matter that it comes from Tal’s country of origin; it all doesn’t matter to Russell Torrance. “Yeah, Adderall to you, too,” he mumbles, willfully and blatantly mocking it before his shoulders shrug. It’s the rest of what Taliesin says that takes a moment for him to catch up to. “Normal to me. Hell, I could have wound up there.–Sometimes it’s better than what all this brings.” He gestures with his glass, moving around his surrounding with a circle through the air that just hovers above the counter, and there’s a particular jerk towards where Taliesin sits. It would have made the liquid spill had there been much left in his glass.

It makes his skin crawl when the man talks about his feelings towards being himself, expressing himself, being comfortable with himself. He’s wrong. It’s not normal, not normal to Russell. Being threatened with a creative death sentence because your daughter couldn’t for the life of her remember her lines to some bullshit script was more normal to him than that. In this dark hour, death isn’t looking too bad. It’s better than exploring whatever this is.

But Taliesin does what any reasonable person would do: reassures. But that’s the problem. He reassures something that shouldn’t exist, and in bringing it up, he makes it concrete, something nearly tangible that Russell now has to spit at. It’s bad timing, it’s a bad circumstance, and it’s just simply bad in general. Russell turns in his direction, both hands gripping to his collar in an instant. “That I what? Nothing happened. Nothing will ever happen.” Beneath all the force in his voice and in his touch, he’s practically begging for Taliesin to take a shot at him. It’s what’s comfortable to him. It’s his normal. Last time he was this close to the man, he had called him ‘sweetheart’, groped him, seen his face full of makeup with lipstick that could have easily left its mark on Russell. The image flashes in his mind, and for half of a second his digits tighten but then he releases him, casts him out of his touch, discards the thought that any of it happened.

“What are sniffing around for? What do you want to keep your mouth shut? Stop playing like you’re such a goddamn saint already and cut to the chase.”

                For the first time in any of their numerous interactions, Taliesin’s fear doesn’t flicker, or hide behind his features. It’s there in an instant, pulling eyes wide and his mouth clamped shut. He listens, let’s Russell ramble and hiss and snarl and wonders if it’s the same sort of fear he has, or if it’s just anger. The thought is banished the moment it pushes to the forefront of his mind. He’s just drunk, and constantly pissed off. That’s all he is. Fingers tighten around the fabric of his suit and shoulders pull up, drawing tense. When he’s pushed aside, he seems more surprised, expected Russell to hit him or shove him from his seat or do anything that refrenced past interactions, anything that hinted at violence after every fistfight they’ve had. But he simply... let’s go. “Oh, piss off.” He mutters, adjusting the collar of his shirt and moving to adjust a bowtie that isn’t there.

                He knocks back the rest of his own drink before he addresses the situation that shouldn’t have been, caring enough to lower his voice so no one but Russell can hear. “You’re the one who wanted to play grab ass.” Then, he’s back to a comfortable volume. “You don’t have to act like it’s the worst thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. We both know it isn’t.” He says in a matter a fact sort of way before he snaps. Because he isn’t a saint, he’s hurt people, people have gotten killed because of bad interviews, or they’ve used his show as a way to get themselves cancelled, and he’s only ever assisted when he could have stopped them. He’s trying to be better, for every star on the walk that’s his fault. You don’t become everyone’s late night sweetheart by playing it safe. Someone else had the title before him, and someone else will take it. “What good would blackmailing you do? I want you to think, really think for a moment: What could I possibly get from you that Prometheus couldn’t get me?” It’s his turn to overfill his glass.

               “Hell, name one thing you have that they couldn’t get me. Just one and I’ll prove you right. I’ll be the rotten bastard and do it.” 

[taliesincollier]

neither-then-naor-now‌.

“Wait, hold on.” Joseph’s not the best at math, or at any academic subject, given how spotty his education had been, but 300 points? That, and the cancelled actor had bid seven times. He tried to do the math in his head – he’d done enough of it when he attempted to bid points on his own for roles once he hit his teens. If only those two actors bid, that meant this one guy had to bid at least 30 a pop. This guy had to bid at least two hundred something total. 

And for him to get readily cancelled after that? That kid must have been nuts.

“How many points did he even have starting off?” Joseph asked. It sounded like a move Joseph would have considered, fantasized about pulling back when he was a contract, with the full knowledge that it would have been his mother taking the final hit. But now that his mother’s cancellation had long past, it just made him feel awful. “Probably not a lot, if his bids got him cancelled in the end.”

               Taliesin tries to think, tries to figure up how many points the poor boy had before he was cancelled, so many numbers run around in his head it’s hard to say for sure. “There’s a reason not a lot of people knew his name.” There’s a reason Taliesin can’t remember it now. He wasn’t worth remembering, just another body beneath the walk. “If I had to guess. I would say the kid got desperate.” So many teenagers come into contracts thinking it’s easy, thinking they can rig the game. Thinking that they could never be cancelled. No one tells them the game isn’t worth playing. 

[taliesincollier]

swooncheyenne‌.

Cheyenne laughed softly before pulling her face into one of faux shock. As if the hint wasn’t exactly what she’d been leading toward with her wording. This wasn’t her first time promoting a movie, after all. “I assure you, we’re very above board when the cameras are off.” She pulled on a smile that said she was a vixen but to her just felt like it didn’t fit right. “Very what? Please tell me, I’m dying to know what I have in common with Jade and Jerome!” Honestly, that she did want to know. It wasn’t until they’d started filming that she even realized that she was in their league. “That I can do but only because you asked me so sweetly! I play Norah, whose husband has been murdered. No one wants to help her which drives her mad. She’s a woman who is trying to grieve and without answers, that’s impossible.” In a nutshell, that was her Norah. 

               “Oh come now, we all know the three of you are very attractive.” Taliesin, he doesn’t give much more than a knowing smile, doesn’t blush or trip over himself. It’s a rehearsed response. The audience acts accordingly, because he’s right. Taliesin listens, if he felt playful he might put his chin in his hands as if he were infatuated. But his professionalism sticks through this time. “It sounds like an underlying theme for Norah is grief...” He pushes a little more, digs for just a taste of information that isn’t already known. “I couldn’t imagine losing someone like that with no explanation.” 

[taliesincollier]

gilded-castle‌.

Jerome heard through word-of-mouth that Catherine’s cancellation had opened up a slot for next week, and it was a race against time to secure it for himself.

He left a voicemail and an email to his agent regarding the matter, and he came to the studio tonight to talk to Taliesin about it. He ran through the conversation in his head several times. He told himself he would not appeal to Taliesin’s needs for points (he had checked the leaderboard) nor his own want to get back into the Top 20 (his own personal benchmark, and one that keeps him that much further away from cancellation). Instead, he would bring it up in casual conversation. Ask if Taliesin had already filled the spot. It would be ideal if the topic came up organically (as in, if Taliesin were to bring it up), but if not, then Jerome would have to ask.

The yapping of an excitable corgi gets his attention, and he recognizes it as Taliesin’s dog. He can’t remember its name, but he knows that if this dog is here, then its master isn’t far behind. He bends down and extends a closed fist for it to sniff. The dog pokes his nose at Jerome’s hand. Trust earned. Now, time to give the dog a few scratches behind its ears.

               The corgi doesn’t hesitate to move closer, to sniff and examine the man. Corgis as a breed are social dogs, smart but mischievous. It helps that he spends most of his time with people, sitting beside Tal’s desk during interviews or running around the studio. He’s far too comfortable with people really, far too trusting. He gives his best doggy smile at the attention. “I didn’t think you were a dog person.” Which isn’t strictly true, he assumes everyone is a dog person unless they’ve specifically stated otherwise. It’s But seeing Jerome with such a small dog is... Well an interesting sight to say the least. 

                The host approaches quickly though he slows when he sees Jerome, almost hesitant in his approach. If only because Jerome is the last person he’d expect to see, as high as he is on the leader board, seeing him wandering around the show block is a bit surprising, especially since he’s currently working in film or he was last time Tal checked. “Taking a trip around the studio?” So close to premiers, it’s no wonder he’s suddenly swarmed with actors, supposed friends. almost offensive really. But it’s part of the job, something he chose for himself. Though he finds it curious that someone else hasn’t picked most of them up yet. “Bwlyn.” He sighs, the dog doesn’t look up at his owner, seeming to prefer Jerome’s company for the moment.

[taliesincollier]

tomas-visser‌.

The day was ending quickly as his own show wrapped up and packed down. Food was displayed on the kitchen counter, first dibs given to the crew as always. And while the lights and cameras were being packed down, Tomas had his own kitchen to clean up as well. The nice thing is that the producers let him have the kitchen all to himself sometimes after shoots which is a big touching display of trust right there.

While his own sink was filled with soaking utensils, Tomas attempted to cheat time and slip pass a few other studios to the break room’s sink. It was easy enough to ghost through most of them but of course he’d get caught by one resident furry good boy. “Aw, hey there boy, how’s your day been? -oop, no chocolate for you, you can’t pinch off this one.” Tomas held the mixing bowls in one hand up high as he squat down to reach his other free hand to let him sniff. Bwlyn the corgi is famous around the TV block, everyone wants to give him a pet and a hug if they could.

And with the dog comes his owner, looking adorably matching. Tomas gave a guilty smile up to the talk show host, “he caught me sneaking through the studios. Bwlyn’s too smart.” And smart dogs deserve a good belly rub. “How did your recording go today? I see you guys are very matching.” It’s safe to say Tomas knew Tal to some degree, because heck it would’ve been safe to say everyone in TV knew each other to some degree.

               The dog is far more social than the host, which truly is a feat all things considered. The entire back half of Bwlyn’s body wags along with his tail, as he sniffs at Tomas, licking at the man trying to get to the bowl as if it’s some sort of doggy blackmail. “Really, he is.” Taliesin softens the moment he sees the corgi, if he didn’t know better he’d say that Bwlyn knew how cute he was, and was manipulating that fact... Maybe so. He doesn’t call the corgi back, or move to retrieve him, instead letting the two get to know each other.  “If he starts walking in little circles, he’s trying to bribe you.” Taliesin offers the information with a slight smile as his gaze flickers to the dog.

               “Oh, nothing too exciting.” Not strictly true, he’d had to sit through a rip off of Buzzfeed’s Thirst Tweets played with Prometheus’ own femme fatale, ( one of said tweets written by Jade herself. ) If only because the fans had demanded the two get back together for another interview and her scheduled had magically opened up. But Tomas really didn’t need to know that, or at least he didn’t need to know that before everyone else did. 

               “Seems your day was productive...” He glances at the bowls, an eyebrow raising. He knows some entertainers prefer if their activities are kept secret until after the show airs, so he offers the question. “Should I ask what it is you baked today?”