shook me all night long - chelle

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

Misha was cleaning up his pizzeria a little after a few messy patrons. They were a little more than messy, actually- they had brought alcohol despite Misha's policies, and a heated discussion (something about Iron Man and Optimus Prime having a fight and who would be the victor) had ended up in a full-out drunken brawl. Pizza had been everywhere, someone had thrown a can of Coke- Misha was happy that he had his own skills in yelling Klingon battle cries- he had stood on the cash register brandishing a mop and war-crying - to intimidate the two men, and he was also happy that as an employee, he had a very tall, very muscular German man who had cussed them out in his native language while ripping them apart from beating each other up.

Misha was very happy for this, indeed. Their brawl went across most every moral code he had (not that he had an outstanding amount, but the ones he did, he followed strictly) and it had been progressing to the windows. Windows were very expensive to replace, and he didn't exactly have the out-of-pocket cash to cough up to replace full shop front windows at the moment.

He sighed, leaning over and righting a chair. His staff had already done a decent job cleaning up (they were staff, that's what their job was, for heaven's sake), but it was still service hours and there was still some debris left over before they had to go back to more important things like answering delivery orders and fulfilling said delivery orders and not burning the pizza- In a moment of horror, Misha dropped the chair and sniffed at the air. Nope, we're good. He relaxed and lifted the furniture up again, wiping at it in case any pizza sauce was left.

Misha drifted over to a small radio (he had a few of them in the pizzeria) when the room looked a bit cleaner, idly poking at a few buttons. He jumped when music started emanating from the speakers, but then smiled when he realized what it was.

"That's where my AC/DC CD went to!" he said out loud, fondly patting the top of the radio. He had thought he lost the disc years ago, but apparently this dusty old boombox still had it in its clutches. Misha wasn't complaining as he sang the first few bats of the song under his breath before singing louder.

He bobbed his head along with the music, cleaning up a few more spills that he noticed before throwing out a few cans into the recycle bin (Misha took his recycling very, very seriously and it was a practical death penalty for him if he saw someone who didn't separate paper and plastics and cans from the regular garbage). "You shook me all night long!" he sang, doing air guitar for a few seconds before sliding himself behind the register to throw rolled up receipts into the garbage.

Of course, it was just Misha's luck that an attractive red-headed woman decided to come walking into the pizzeria right then, as he scored a particularly awesome set of "goals" in the paper basket. He blinked wide blue eyes, startled as the bell rung, before sinking down low in the register, eyes just over the level of the counter. "Abort mission, retreat..." he hissed, hoping to not make eye contact. If they don't see you, you don't see them- or, wait- Misha resisted the urge to facedesk (face register? he wondered vaguely) and regrouped his thoughts.

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words; 607
muse; Ack. I can't- I'm sorry.XD
outfit; Lady GaGa t-shirt, jeans, apron
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

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[MICHELLE AMELINE PRIDEUX]

WAIT WAIT A MINUTE TAKE A STEP BACK YOU GOTTA THINK TWICE BEFORE YOU REACT
SO STAY A LITTLE WHILE BECAUSE THE PROMISE I KEPT IS

Chelle wasn't a Bronx girl. At all. She had no idea about navigation of this borough, and everything was kind of confusing. She knew that, if she could navigate through Manhattan, she could pretty much handle anywhere else, but she felt a little bit out of her capacity here. She was glad she was with friends. She couldn't held but rely on them a little but more than usual. Usually, she was the one leading or making plans or doing something. She was a social butterfly, she was just good with people in general. That meant that, when she wasn't working, she was out with her boyfriend, friends, always somewhere, doing something. She couldn't help it. When she'd spent eighteen years under the control of an iron fist, that didn't allow her to properly socialize most of the time, when she did have the ability, she practically was never home. Though, nights in cuddled up under boyfriend's arm on her couch, watching whatever movie he chose, were also appreciated. She guessed that there was a time and a feeling for both places.

She was just saying goodbye - she was heading to the train, they were either heading to a bus or where they parked - when she realized just how starving she was. Chelle was someone that ate healthier than most of the people she was around everyday. Chelle mostly ate veggies - she wasn't a vegetarian, she just preferred them - and anything organic. People in the fashion business were usually very irregular about their eating habits, whereas she wasn't that bad. No where near, really. One of the other interns on her floor didn't even follow the cheese cube method. She crunched ice, and kept salt packets around, and took tons of vitamins and other supplements. She looked like she could be literally ninety pounds, soaking wet. Chelle didn't understand it. She could never handle that type of 'diet', either. She figured that, on the way, she'd pass a food place, get a bite, and then head home. She knew she'd be spending the rest of the day on Facebook, watching QVC, or something just as low-key. She spotted a pizza place, and shrugged. That would do, without a problem. Her heels clicked against the pavement easily, clicking even louder when she was in the shop, with the tiled floors.

She saw a man duck behind the register, and raised an eyebrow. She wondered what was wrong with him. Maybe he'd dropped something, or there was something wrong with the register. Brushing her hair off her shoulder, she smiled at him. "Hi, can I get a Caeser salad, no chicken, and an order of garlic knots, please?" She smiled easily, accent heavy yet understandable, and then glanced around. The place wasn't large, and there wasn't anyone else in it. She wondered if it was just him working that day, or if he was the owner. She wasn't a big fast food person, preferring to make her own meals and keep healthy that way, but she ate out with friends enough that it wasn't a problem when she did. She really did have a thing for garlic knots, though. She like Italian cuisine in general, really, even if some of it tended to not be authentic. She wouldn't say that out loud, however. People knew that she was French, because not only did she not hide it, but also because of the way she spoke - she couldn't get rid of her accent. But saying that she'd eaten Italian food, in Italy, kind of made her a snob. And Chelle was basically anything but a snob.

T A G G E D ? ! misha!
W O R D C O U N T ? ! six twenty five
M U S E ? ! not really here but
N O T E S ? ! hopefully she didn't dazzle him too much? xD
C R E D I T ? ! graphic credit goes to ROBB STARK. of caution two point oh. lyric credit goes to shinedown with the song diamond eyes.

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

AC/DC was still playing in the background, which was the only thing that was keeping Misha from fleeing the scene at once. He had never dealt with beautiful people well, and he was distracted on his best days. His social interactions mostly consisted of him staring and the other person backing away slowly (or quickly, depending on how polite they were) and that was never a good thing, especially if this woman was a customer. He felt like he had to do something, but he couldn't figure out what exactly to do. He could jump up from the register and act normally, but that would just be weird. Misha could also just stay hidden behind the register, and hope that she didn't see him at all. He opted for the second option, crouching closer to the counter.

The woman ordered. Misha sobbed internally because that meant that she did see him and he had to get up.

He chanced another glance up, and immediately flinched back down. It wasn't exactly in his personality to be easily intimidated, but she was really quite attractive, and she was standing in his pizzeria, and she was ordering garlic knots, and she had a French accent, and Misha wondered if she was flirting, wondered what he was supposed to do if someone was flirting-

Get a hold of yourself? Would Captain Kirk act like this? What would Jack Harkness do? he chided himself, thinking of two of the best womanizers in sci-fi history and their actions. He desperately tried to come up with anything to say, but stayed where he was for the moment. Misha wasn't sure how to best proceed in this type of situation. He mustered up his people skills, hoping that Domino would deign it fit to come by and break any tension that formed, and raised his head above the counter, offering her a trembly smile.

"H-Hi." he said seriously, trying to not break out into a cold sweat or start to spontaneously dancing or any other disorder that could apparently occur when one was nervous. Misha really wished that he hadn't read that psychology textbook or those horror novels, or even watched that romantic comedy the night before. Damn you, Ben Stiller. The woman was probably judging him now, even if she had no way of telling that he had been curled up with his cat watching crappy rom-coms for a few hours. Misha found it to be cathartic, in his defense. But right now was not the time for cheesy lines, this was real life.

Misha suddenly found that he really disliked "real life" and wondered if he could restart this episode of the game.

"I'll ring that up right now," he laughed nervously, keeping himself below the counter. Fight or flight (flirt or fight) instincts were full blown, right now, and he decided that if he made himself a smaller target, bad things couldn't happen. It was like a turtle shell, his last line of defense. "We make legitimate garlic knots, luckily, I mean, not that other places make bad garlic knots, we're just the best, so I guess in comparison, they're bad- Sorry!" he apologized with a squeak, covering his mouth as he rambled. "I'm Misha, hi. Did I already say that? You remind me of Amy Pond from Doctor Who-" Misha cut himself off before anything else could come out of his mouth, choosing instead to stare as his hands groped around for the register. This was going mildly better than he expected, she wasn't running away, yet, but he thought that his head was about to explode.

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words; 622
muse; Oh, Misha. :3
outfit; Lady GaGa t-shirt, jeans, apron.
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

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[MICHELLE AMELINE PRIDEUX]

WAIT WAIT A MINUTE TAKE A STEP BACK YOU GOTTA THINK TWICE BEFORE YOU REACT
SO STAY A LITTLE WHILE BECAUSE THE PROMISE I KEPT IS

Chelle took in his spastic actions, and internally frowned, pausing. She wondered if she'd somehow done something wrong. She looked down at herself - was there something on her clothes? She petted at her hair lightly, wondering if there was a hair out of place. Something on her face, maybe? She almost pulled out her compact, but reigned in her inner diva. She probably looked fine. Maybe the man behind the counter wasn't feeling well? Then again, he was working, so that didn't exactly make sense. Well, it sort of did - she knew that most, if not all, fast food places paid by shift. Maybe he needed the money? She shook her head, toying with the ends of her hair. She was reading into it, into him, too much. She knew that she had her moments where she over-read people, where she over-thought things, but they didn't happen often. She was more of a surface person, except with those close to her. Maybe she was over talkative, her boyfriend had told her that she was too sweet more than once in a non-complimenting manner, but that was part of her, something she couldn't change.

When he offered her a small smile that seemed a bit too shaky to be real, she raised a shapely eyebrow. She was starting to get a bit worried. Maybe she should've just skipped the food. His voice even sounded shaky. Maybe she was right, and he was sick. But he didn't look sick, really, just ... nervous? She didn't know what to make of it. Would mentioning it be offensive? Sometimes she doubted herself because it wasn't offensive to ask someone rather out of the blue if they were alright back home, but then again, she was in America. There were a lot of people here that took offense to the slightest things, more so than there were back in France. "Err, sorry if this sounds offensive - that's really not what I intend it to be - but are you alright?" Her smile was warm, if a little concerned, but she couldn't see or notice that. "Thank you." She said, biting down on her lower lip as she reached into her bag, pulling out her wallet. Coach - you couldn't go wrong with designer labels, they meant both quality and style and who didn't want that? - and small and red, it was something she'd splurged on when she'd bought her bag, of the same label.

She couldn't help but giggle when he started to ramble. "I'm sure they're excellent." She said, lightly. "And no, you didn't. I'm Chelle, very nice to meet you." She said, stopping herself from going back to play with the ends of her hair, pushing a strand behind her ear and the rest off her shoulder. "Thank you? I think. I've never seen it." She shrugged slightly, the gesture almost apologetic. "I'm not used to getting compliments, my boyfriend isn't the type." She laughed softly, even though it really wasn't funny. She'd held back on smiling brightly. Even though she wasn't low on self esteem, what girl didn't like to get compliments? Especially from someone else that she viewed as handsome. When she'd locked on his eyes for a moment, she'd almost got lost in them. She'd always had a thing for blue eyes. She shifted her bag on her arm and fingered her wallet as she waited for the man - Misha - to speak.

T A G G E D ? ! misha!
W O R D C O U N T ? ! six oh two
M U S E ? ! under the sea with ariel
N O T E S ? ! oh my god he's an angel xDD
C R E D I T ? ! graphic credit goes to ROBB STARK. of caution two point oh. lyric credit goes to shinedown with the song diamond eyes.