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Monumental Pictures, Hollywood, 1922 [entries|friends|calendar]
Monumental Pictures, Studio 13

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FINALLY! [23 Feb 2006|10:09am]

Ribbon was tierd of waiting outside. If she was going to look for a job, why would she stand here and wait? She would be a real gung-ho girl and walk right up and confidantly ask Davenport for a job. What was the worst that would happen? she gets arrested??- at least that way she gets 3 meals a day and a warmer place to sleep.
she mustered up all the courage in her tiny body, most of which seemed to come from her feet- as they were the ones leading her inside the studio. She saw a man, he looked so above this. A man who seems to wear his cigarette smoke like an elegant fragile scarf.
"Are you Horus Davenport?"
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Davenport [21 Jan 2006|01:24pm]

Mr. Davenport tallied the cast and crew as the arrived for shooting. This was a day for the cast to become familiar with the story, eachother, and their roles. The film stock would be used to see how the actors should be lit and made up for maximum attractiveness. They were waiting on the second female lead, Mille Baxter. Again. Without so much as cursing under his breath, Davenport left his seat by the camera and ducked behind the set to fetch her. She'd been busy "fixing" what the hair and makeup artists had done to her.
It was pitch black behind the monster house sets, but Davenport had worked in this studio long enough to know hi way around it in the dark.
A shoe knocked against his shoulder.


"Everyone can go home, the shooting is being cancelled. Don't wander around, just go home. Have a good weekend, we'll continue as planned on Monday." Davenport gathered up his things, and looked about for a messenger. The post boy, he'd do. The boy had come by to make his morning rounds. Davenport grabbed him as he was leaving, and said in a low but authoritative voice,
"Wait 15 minutes, then call the police. Tell them there's been an accident."
He adjusted his sunglasses and turned to the bewildered cast and crew. He had to get them out so none of them would get tangled up in it. It could slow down progress if any of them were needlessly upset. They'd read about it in tomorrow's paper, and if Davenport had any luck at all, they'd have a replacement by Monday.

"Did you hear me? Go home, I'm closing down the set."
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Ribbon Quinne- in need of new icon [14 Jan 2006|04:53pm]

Outside the studio was a young girl attempting her best to get through to see someone who might pity her and feel for her tender looks and grant her a job- or better yet a small role in the picture. She had a long lost uncle somewhere and assumed if she got her face and name out into the world he would find her and take her- and her factory working brother into his arms and love them like his own. As she had no real skills aside from her looks, which were only really noticeable when one does not see her shabby clothes, which were by no means rags, but were certainly less than that of even the lowest worker on the set, she was fairly certain to be turned away. She got into the studio by spending the only money she had on some writing tools and creating a false letter to the only name she had heard mention of outside the studio, Horus Devenport. She paid a clerk at the store with the last bit she had to write, in some elegant fashion, to this Devenport fellow to beg for a job. On the envelope itself he scribed. “Monumental Pictures, studio 13- Delivery to Mr. H. Devenport- by bearer only.” Now all she had to do was find the set.

Back in the dressing rooms a young, recently 15 yr old girl was busy polishing off a bottle of Gin and doing her hair. Being as she was quite petite most of the alcohol she had consumed this morning and the night after had merged together thus leaving her still drunk and free from hangovers. Usually this young starlet was famous for her semi-somnolent awareness and ability to perform while intoxicated. However, In a bit of a rage about the gossip column and her role in the picture, young Mille Baxter was quite inebriated.
“Why must I always be cast as the dear Female friend? Why? I wanna be the star. It is not that I look THAT young! I am a much better actress than Lara anyway. I mean, she can sometimes even pass out when she drinks.”

With that dear sentimental view on her Cherished co-star, she stared heading over to the room where the others were meeting. Stumbling around like a wounded deer our sweet little dear dropped her bottle of gin amongst the ropes for sandbags and backdrops and other miscellaneous things which made no never-mind to her.

“Dammit” she whined attempting to lick some gin off the floor, slipping her head between the cords as she was to avoid the bottle’s glass and sip up the refreshing beverage. At that precise moment through some severe form of fortune for the aforementioned young lady and misfortune to dear Millie, a backdrop was being lifted and what do you know it was attached to the rope which dear, sweet, Millie had gotten tangled up in. Suddenly, it was pulled there was a great snap and the young girls neck snapped. This was the first real horror on the set. Now they would be in need of a new “lady friend” character.

One can only imagine the cast and crew’s dismay when they realize what Auntie Eulalie would have to say about this
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Noel and Gilda at the Chinese Theater [07 Jan 2006|06:22am]
"You're on the air in 5, kids," said the man holding the microphone in front of Noel and Gilda. They waited appropriately before breaking into their radio voices. Gilda grinned with sparkling white teeth and started them off, as rehearsed.

"Gad Zooks, ladies and gents, it's Gilda here at Graumans Chinese Theater! Boy the crowd is feral tonight for the premier of the new sparkling picture from Monumental Studios: The Divine Lady! It's billed as the most stunningly romantic picture this town has yet seen. Noel and I are here soaking in the spotlight and the stars will be just flowing out of the streets and showing off for the crowd any minute now, won't they, Noel? Wish you were heere!"

"Why yes, Gilda. It's a beautiful night here and the crowds can hardly contain their excitement. This is an excellent premire, you can just feel the delight in the air. Everyone can't wait to see the stars of the evening."

Gilda and Noel engaged an excited fan behind the barricade for a small friendly interview about the picture to kill time before the starts arrived. Once they did.. the pair would be on them like hawks.
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Stephen Hardy: by the studio side exit (new icon thanks to Zan!) [28 Dec 2005|11:36pm]

".. they're all so nice too! I mean I never expected them to properly acknowledge me but they actually talked to me! Especially Miss Laslow..."

Stephen was sat on a wall by the side exit of the studio swinging his legs and talking to Bobbo the switchboard operator whilst he had a break.

"Ah dry up Stevo, you Brits get far too excited about these things. They were probably just including you for the sake of their own little games. We're just in a different class you know? Swells like them don't want anything to do with people like us"

"You think so? Oh I don't know. Maybe you're right... I mean they are all actually in the papers, i only deliver them..." said Stephen with a sigh swinging his legs rather less enthusiastically.

"Don't let it bring you down kid, at least you get to see them every day, thats closer than most peoples do.... ciggy?" said Bobbo putting one in his own mouth.

"You know I don't like that stuff! Besides, its a waste of money...", Stephen stopped as his boss pushed through the door thrusting a cable (telegram) in his hand.

"Listen kid, you aren't paid to sit on your ass all day, swinging your legs around, go get this to Mr Davenport."

"Sure boss... I'll get right on it" and Stephen jumped off the wall and followed his boss through the door vaguelly waving at Bobbo.
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[12 Dec 2005|06:42pm]

Horus Davenport marched across the studio and unlocked the back door of the lot, to let the technicians in. They set to work hooking up the cameras and the lights, which they did with impressive efficiency. Monumental ran like clockwork in any arenas it could manage. It would soon discover, it seemed to Davenport, that artists are not made to run like clockwork.
"Hey twirly boy," one of the light men shown a spot down on Davenport and waved to him. "You teachin' ladies how to do their curtseys again?"
Davenport shielded his already shaded eyes from the glare of the light with his clip board.
"No, Ken. Today I'm teaching *you* how to do your *job*. Now move that light back where it belongs before you set my tan off-balance."
The light man obeyed, and Davenport looked toward the gaggle of actors who were currently streaming in behind the director.

"I believe this is your... palette, Mr. Murdock," Davenport said, gesturing to the eerily malformed sets and raising an eyebrow. "I hope you know their mechanics. I could not decode the briefs Monumental sent me about the way they work."
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Ian Murdock [28 Nov 2005|07:13pm]

As Ian Murdock entered the studio he was, for quite a bit longer than a short moment, too much in thought about the to be made movie, that the fact that nobody was actually present went past him. But it was empty. His enthusiasm largely replaced by confusion he started thinking about what could have gone wrong. He could figure nobody had been stolen, as well as no mysterious abyss had opened temporarily and swallowed up the crew. So they had to have gone somewhere. In his experience people had the tendency to get distracted from their important tasks way too easily, they would go somewhere and relax at any given opportunity. This made the decision rather easy to walk into the general direction of the cafeteria, and, as suspected, Ian heard the sound of various voices coming from the cafe, one of them unmistakenably being the cheerful, a bit too loud voice of Lara Laslow, whom he had worked with before.

Stepping through the door into the cafeteria, Murdock skipped any friendly greeting, smiled broadly and asked the now-found people: "Shall we get started then?!"
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Horus Davenport [10 Nov 2005|06:46pm]

Davenport arrived at the studio gates in his Silver Ghost, before the sun had peaked over the green California hills. There was a thick humid haze and Davenport never let anyone drive him to the studio. As ever, he wore his dark-tinted glasses. All of these factors contributed to the reality that he'd run over someone's cat on the way in. The animal escaped, sans a tail.
Davenport recieved a nod from the sleepy gateman and the Silver Ghost slid into the 13th lot.

No one seemed to be in yet, which suited him fine. He found the switchboard and lit most of the floor. Light gleamed momentarily from his lenses and made his slicked back hair look stark and yellow like wheat. The last time he'd seen this particular lot it was for a dopey two-reeler about a man selling cigarettes to Arabs. He'd choreographed some slave girl dances and hated it. Methodically, Davenport surveyed the lot once more (occasionally peeking from under his smoked glasses) and took note of every exit, before deciding to pop into the cafe for a coffee. Soon the set men would be around, then finally the talent. He'd have to meet them all.

Davenport reacted to the early morning light like a creature of the night. He pulled his black coat around himself and sank his chin into the folds of his scarf. Surely the cafe would be open by now. He'd have a chance to look over the production notes Monumental had sent to him. It sounded quite strange...
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Today's Gossip [10 Nov 2005|01:17am]


Well, hello kittens, has your Auntie Eulalie got news for you!

You’ve gobbled up all those fan magazine stories about this leading man’s ‘eternal devotion’ to his wife, but eternity turned out shorter than expected, ‘cause he’s been spotted doing some on-set canoodling.  It’s not who you think… he’s passed up his man-eater co-star for a script girl!


There’s a hush-hush project in the works, something ‘monumental’ that even my little birdies can’t give me details on.  all I’ve got is “It’s gonna be big, and you’ll never believe who they’re tryin’ to get signed!” Rest assured, my darlings, that the moment I hear more, so shall you.


And speaking of my dear canaries, one of them just whispered in my ear that a certain child star ain’t so sweet and innocent as she appears.  I’ve got an eyewitness to her gulping down bathtub gin and dancing ‘til dawn with a whole mess of shady characters.  Heck of a way to celebrate a 15th birthday.

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