#57.6 from writers_muses
Name : Ginger McKenna-Rothstein
Fandom : Casino
Word count : 260


I shoulda known that Sam would shaft me. I should've never married him. He's a Gemini. Triple Gemini. Duality. Gemini is the snake, you know. You can't trust a snake.

We had an agreement, you know. That money was for me, and only me. When we first got married, he promised me that it was mine, no matter what. It was my insurance you know. No matter what happened, I was set up for life. That’s what he told me, that was the agreement. If everything went wrong and it didn’t work out, I was taken care of, that was the fucking deal.

But when it came down to it, he screwed me over. So much for his fucking word and his promises. I was entitled to that money. No, I don’t feel guilty about taking it, I was taking what was rightfully mine. Can you believe he wasn’t even going to let me in the house to get my stuff? I’d been wearing the same clothes for two days, and he wouldn’t even let me in the goddamned house to get a change of clothes. I mean, what’s that shit about? It’s not like I wanted the house, or anything that wasn’t mine. I just wanted my clothes, my jewellery and my money.

My fucking money.

I shoulda known all along it was bullshit. Did he honestly expect for me to walk outta there empty handed? Eight fucking years I’d given that Jew Gemini bastard. And for what? Well screw you Sam Rothstein, I’m having what’s owed to me.

Prompt #54.1D from writers_muses
Name : Ginger McKenna-Rothstein
Fandom : Casino
Word count : 350

"Poor sods don't have any clue of what's about to happen to them. But then, maybe that's for the best."

You gotta be pretty damn dumb to try and pull a fast one in the Tangiers. I mean I don't know all the details, and I don't wanna fuckin' know either. But if you're going to try and rip off a casino like my husband runs, you better know what you're doing. Ace Rothstein can spot a counter, a hustler or a weak dealer a mile off. There isn't a trick in the book that he hasn't already thought of, and odds are, he's just waiting for you to try it. And when you do? You'll be lucky to have your fingers working well enough to pick up your cigarettes as you're 'helped' out of the door.

That's how it is. 'Cept these poor suckers keep coming back for more, you'd think they'd be a bit more clued up; stories travel, you know. The thing is, they get away with it when they stick to small time, once maybe, even twice if they're any good. But then they get cocky, and greed brings them back and they start betting big. And when you get greedy, you might as well be wearing a fuckin' neon sign flashing on your head that says 'Fuck Me Up'.

They think they had a fuckin' heart attack, well you would. Last thing you're expecting in a flash joint like this, is to get screwed by a cattle prod. And if they did know? You can be sure as shit they would have stopped five hands ago, if they hadn't been stupid enough to set themselves up for it in the first place, fake beard or not. Before they know it they're in the 'first aid' room and gettin' their knuckles smashed.

Freelance scamsters, hustlers beware. How can you skim a joint, if you're letting a bunch of yokel pricks skim it for you? Ace Rothstein doesn't fuck about, no-one gets one over on him. Not even me. Well not Ace maybe, Sam on the other hand...

BASICS
1. Start Time – Now
2. Name - Ginger
3. Astrology sign – Taurus
4. Gender – Female
5. Eye color – Blue
6. Favorite color - Gold
7. Glasses – No.
8. Tattoos - None, tacky things on women.
9. Birthday – May 16
11. Sibling's name(s) – Barbara

( Read more... )

"Lester honey, it's me again baby. You call me back already, okay. I can't get a hold of you at home. Just check in will ya, just so I know you're okay. I worry, ya know."

The cellphone was expertly wedged between shoulder and cheek as Ginger applied her final eyelash in the mirror. Any genuine concern she had for Lester, quickly dissipated with her admiration for her latest purchase that she now flipped shut. Ten grand that baby had cost her, well Sam to be fair, and it was worth every cent she thought as the dressing mirror lights danced spectacularly amongst the irridescent diamonds.

Ginger had been away from Sam for over a week now, every night spent in decadent and expensive luxury at the prestigious L'Ermitage Raffles hotel in Beverly Hills. Sam's cash that he'd aggressively shoved into the Louis Vitton holdall on that coked up night was rapidly depleting, but she wouldn't worry about that til she was down to her last few grand.

For now, the champagne was flowing, the coked up nights had been in abundance, and the days; well the days had been an endless celebration of spa treatments and Rodeo Drive shopping, after noonish anyway.

She reopened the cellphone and paused on the 'home' entry for a moment inhaling deeply. She didn't exhale until the phone was clapped shut again. She knew this wouldn't last forever, but while it did, she was going to make the most of it. Answering to no one but herself was suiting Ginger just fine. Besides, she didn't need Sam, not yet anyway.

Tonight was party night, just like the last eight, and Ginger was dressed to kill as she stepped out of the elevator doors into the hotel foyer. First stop, the bar.

((Thread continued here @ tenebrae_nostro))

This clip is very very NSFW but very very fucking hysterical *in tears here*

Just wait til the end when Ernie/Nicky starts tapping Bert/Ace on the head XDDDD




And while I'm at it with the youtube time wastery...( Casino - The Fucking Short Version ) XD!
Ginger slamming the car door and falling over half coked/half drunk is funny as... well fuck!

Alot of Ginger's RP is now going to take place here, if you've been reading Ginger's journal:



It's definitely worth scoping out :)

((Continued from here.))

It had been a long time since Ginger had done this, she was back in her element. She turned to look around, seeing if there were any old faces she still knew as Danny bought his chips from the cashier. A couple of security guards nodded her way, and she smiled back in their direction.

When Danny was done, she slipped her arm under his. If it had crossed her mind that this would probably get back to her husband, she obviously didn't care. At least he'd have something different to criticise her for than how much she drank for a change.

"So what's your game Danny?"

Prompt #169 from theatrical_muse
Name : Ginger McKenna-Rothstein
Fandom : Casino
Word count : 219
Topic: Fragile

I thought about this, and no matter how many times I tried to think of something else that was fragile. I kept coming back to hangovers. The ones that make your trembling hand reach for the coffee and the pills, before you can even think straight.

Every noise seems louder, every argument seems worse, every light brighter, every smell more nauseating. I know it’ll pass, I know the pills will do their stuff. But for that first hour of the day, all I wanna do is crawl back into bed, and shut out everything around me.

But I won’t let myself do that, there’s nothing wrong with me, I’m fine, I have to prove this. So I hide it, I smile and make small talk over breakfast, and I wait. ‘Cause I know in an hour, it’ll feel different. I know in an hour, that I’ll be ready for the day ahead, and I’ll be back to my old self.

I know I drink too much, and when I feel like this, I tell myself I should stop. But then I don’t feel so bad, and the headache’s gone. It’s in the past, I’m not good at mornings, I feel just fine now. I’m just not good at mornings.

Besides, lunch isn’t the same without a bottle of wine.

"Lester..." Ginger sighed into the receiver. "Of course I do, that's why I can't do this."

Lester's emotional manipulation was slowly wearing her down though. "I just needed to check you were okay, Sam should never have done that, I'm so sorry. I just needed to hear your voice one more time, see that you were good."

The solitary tear, that had fought to escape for five minutes now, had made way for the stream that had been building up behind it when it finally rolled over her cheek. "I can't give you any money, you heard what he said, you were there too."

The more he spoke, the closer she felt to relenting. Just this one last time, just enough to make sure he had a fair crack of the whip. Just to see him okay before she cut off ties forever. He was right, it was her fault he was in this mess, she did owe him this one last favour.

This post has been brought to you by the letters, O, O and C. Because Ginger won't post it, but OMG! It's pretty accurate, apart from the falling in love easily bit.



( 'The Sudden Departure' in more depth... )

Edit: Ginger is even more sure she was right not to post it now, her and her husband rothstein_ace are the ultimate in incompatible according to this. And Nicky nickyxsantoro, his best friend who she's cheated on Sam with, should apparently consider her typeas his best match...LOL

Prompt #161 from theatrical_muse
Name : Ginger McKenna-Rothstein
Fandom : Casino
Word count : 404
Topic: The Morning After

How could I argue with him? I’m trying to set things straight between us, trying to make up for the shit I caused. So if he wants me to have a pager, then what am I supposed to do? Throw it back at him? Because that’s what I wanted to do. He wants to keep tabs on me all of the time now, like I’m his fucking pet or some shit like that.

Last night didn’t go so well. He just couldn’t drop it, no matter what good intentions he set out with, he couldn’t drop it. What was supposed to be a reconciliation dinner, turned into the fucking Spanish Inquisition. How did I manage to spend twenty five grand in three days? Who gives a shit how I managed to spend it, it’s only money. How much were the suits? How did he manage to get fitted for twenty five suits in three days? I already told him I bought Lester a watch too. What? He thinks watches come cheap? Coming from the guy who has a different fucking watch for every suit he owns, and not some cheap shit either. I mean, we’re talking real quality watches here. I’m not justifying what I did, but it’s happened already, and he says he wants me back. So that should be it right? End of story.

Wrong. I can’t make a move now without being answerable to him. I said I was fucking sorry, I said I’d made mistakes. That should be enough for him, but no. Not Sam Rothstein, he’s not happy unless he’s controlling fucking everybody. So I made a call? I didn’t mean what I was saying, I didn’t really want him whacked. It was the coke and the booze talking. So what? A girl can’t get over emotional and think that’s her only way out when she’s upset?

I didn’t mean it, and I didn’t want to leave him either. So after he threw me out with a bag full of money, I drove over to a bar, had a few drinks, a few more lines. I came back.

And now, the next morning, I got myself a pager apparently. Why doesn’t he just buy me a dog collar that says Ginger on it? Then when I wander too far, my name and address are right there, and whoever finds me can send me right back to my fucking owner.

The doors of the jet were pulled back and Ginger stepped out infront of her husband. She was happy, she was more than just happy, she was on a high. An entire day's shopping in Beverly Hills with Sam, no Tangiers, no Nicky, just sheer unadulterated spending!

Ginger's happiness was easily bought. The card from Lester had been left in the kitchen drawer, and to be honest, she hadn't given it a second thought.

The late morning Los Angeles sun was beating down on the tarmac, making everything seem so much shinier.

Prompt #166 from theatrical_muse
Name : Ginger McKenna-Rothstein
Fandom : Casino
Word count : N/A
Topic: Do you believe in ghosts?

Yeah, and Santa Claus and the fucking Tooth Fairy too.

'Can you feel my eyes on you?
Can you feel me look into your heart?
Can you feel me in the pit of your stomach?
Can you feel me in you?
In your heart?
I'm lookin' at you right now.
I'm seein' you for the very first time, right this minute.
I can feel my heart click.
I see you 15 years old.
I see you the first second I ever saw you.
I see you long-legged little colt, stupid braces on your teeth.
Every time I ever see you, that's what I see.

L
702-242-5204'

It was a cheap flimsy card that looked like it had been picked up at a gas station. She slipped it back in the envelope, hovering a lighter at its corner watching the paper blacken as it curled away from the flame. The card was refusing to burn, instead it preferred to smoulder away slowly.

The dark brown curve of charred paper crept across the envelope, forcing her to watch as the words inside waited to be refused their existence.

Ginger rushed to the faucet, letting the water extinguish the card's painful death. For now, it was slipped underneath the cutlery tray in the kitchen drawer, she'd move it later when Sam was gone.

Prompt #165 from theatrical_muse
Name : Ginger McKenna-Rothstein
Fandom : Casino
Word count : 272
Topic: Night

Night time, it’s when Vegas comes alive. The neon flashes enticing you to throw your cash at them, the Strip’s buzzing and everyone’s working to get your money. And not just the casinos. Everyone in Vegas is there to make a buck, the valet parkers, the hustlers, the hookers, the waiters, the cabbies.

For girls like me, Vegas is a goldmine. Everywhere you turn, there’s some guy, escaping the mundanity of his home life, living the dream for just a few days. And these guys, if you keep them awake for three days, will end up emptying their bank accounts straight into your hand.

The champagne flows while they play pretend, and the bills just keep rolling off their wedge. All to impress you. When all you care about is taking them for every cent they’ve got. Before you pack them off, broke, back to their wives and girlfriends, with their tails between their legs.

You’re their lucky charm, with you they’re the center of attention, with you they’re a winner. And who can blame them? They’re getting laid like their wives didn’t even know was possible and for the first time in their life, they feel important. Like they’re really someone. They get the best tables, priority service and every guy in the place wishing they were them.

But it’s all an illusion, it’s Vegas that hustles you, Vegas that tricks you. Its network of flashing lights winks at you in the middle of the dark Nevada desert, promising you the glamour you always dreamed about. And it's only for as long as your cash lasts, that the dream does too.

The cheap draylon curtains were hastily drawn, hanging off their rail at one end, their faded orange flowers collapsing on themselves to reveal the abandoned scene behind. She held her hand to the glass, filtering out the glare from the disappearing sun. A milk carton lay on its side on the kitchen counter, its cottage cheese contents still lying where it had puddled. And on the kitchen floor, a discarded bloody shirt. The stains already turned brown.

"God, I just hope you're okay Lester. Wherever you are."

Ginger checked her rear-view mirror, wiping away the tears before readjusting it, then sped off down the street. Back to the penthouse, back to The Tangiers, back to her husband. They had a dinner date at Nicky's place tonight.

((View flat thread))

With a generous helping of applause, adoration and love for Sam and Nickymun, Ginger's backstory can be read here. As narrated by her husband and his best friend Nicky. It's basically the Casino movie script narration with a few edits for the purpose of our story. And it takes you right up to the point where the characters are starting off here, and then beyond. The transition from movie script to Nicky and Sammun's posts is flawless! And it will serve as a thread that will constantly be updated as their story progresses.

It's entertaining stuff! Well I would say that.

Ginger had some to time to kill after her salon appointment, so after talking to Captain Hastings in the Nexus, she headed off for the Tangiers with an optimistic spring in her step. She had a date with her husband.

Prompt #164 from theatrical_muse
Name : Ginger McKenna-Rothstein
Fandom : Casino
Word count : 245
Topic: What are you waiting for?


“You bought us some time?” Ginger asked Lester incredulously, shaking her head at his naivety. He was sauntering over as if he was the main man, in control. “You bought us some fucking time?!”

“Sam just called you here, he knows I'm here with you. And you think he's waiting for you to call him back?” She stormed past him towards the bedroom, palms upturned and gesturing at the ceiling in disbelief.

“Are you out of your goddamned mind you dumb fuck?” She screeched as she started to stuff as many clothes into the bag on the bed as she could, given the urgency. Lester leaned against the door jam casually, looking like he didn't have a care in the world.

“Lester, he's sending some guys over here right now, that's if they're not already sat outside.” A shoe came hurtling across the room at him in temper to prompt him into action. “Christ Lester, you just don't get it do you? He's not gonna throw a punch and be happy he gave you a bloody nose.”

She peeked out from the curtain in the bedroom nervously, checking the street outside for evidence of Nicky or some of the casino guys already out there. Lester hadn't moved, he was watching her as if she were stressing over nothing.

“What are you waiting for? A fucking bullet in your head?" She screamed in sheer frustration and panic. “We've got five minutes tops to get the hell out of here. MOVE! Damn you.”