is currently employed and on the verge of starting classes at a community college. not only are they quite busy with these things, but they are also a freelance artist seeking commissions. please be patient and understand that roleplaying is merely a hobby.
Please don’t ever assume that just because you are roleplaying a certain character who might have a established relationship in canon with another muse you come across… The other roleplayer will be comfortable writing with you in that manner. Back when I wrote a lot for Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle, I had Sophie’s approach me and attempt to instaship just because of the events that occurred at the end of the book/movie. As a result, I was always reluctant to write with Sophie’s because that’s literally all any of them wanted. So my advice is to take a step back, and have a talk with the other person before assuming it will be fine…. bECAUSE IT WON’T BE.
“As appreciated as it is, I’m afraid that my brother and I will have to decline. While an evening with you and the amiable Lady Comstock sounds ever so pleasant… I find myself a bit preoccupied with the upcoming deadlines…”
Send a ship/bro-ship/friendship and I'll give you who:
Who is more affectionate? Rosalind is more affectionate. Although he may express it way more often than she might, it is hardly ever legitimate (I would imagine, anyway).
Who angers the easiest? Comstock because he’s a mean guy with only one thing on his mind. HIMSELF. If anything goes wrong or someone fucks shit up he’s going to cry about it.
Who is the one too drunk to drive home? This is a tough one because it’s hard to imagine either of them getting that intoxicated… I would bet that they would probably keep from drinking if they were to know that they would have to be in a car together. If this is a social get together, they don’t want to fucking hang out omg…. Maybe that’s just Rosalind lol sorey.
Who’s the the one bandaging the other after a fight? This is also questionable.. Maybe if Comstock’s wife had a catfight with Rosalind. Might feel obligated afterward to like bandage up her arm or something. But Robert’s the one that’s assigned to this task, Comstock.
Who is the one to pull the other to try new things? Like the weird restaurant down the street or skydiving. Comstock, probably. He’d be like, “imagine how this could benefit me”.
Who is the driving/riding shotgun? Comstock is driving, Rosalind is shot gun. LC is in the back kicking at Rosalind’s seat.
Who has the weirder taste in music? I’m sure Comstock has guilty pleasures here and there.
“Yes. This evening.” He replied with little sympathy, “I’m certain you’re terribly busy, as am I. But this is a matter worthy of the utmost precedence” Comstock allows the hand carrying the discarded book to fall to his side, moving to place it on a nearby stand. An eyebrow raising at her admission of comfort, something he- in all his years knowing her had himself rarely heard, but that wasn’t to say the same couldn’t be said of the ever stern statesman. The two of them held a likeness in their stoicism, Comstock himself only showing the slightest glimmer of emotion when speaking of his country. Perhaps this was a key factor in his initial contributions to her research, a sort of kinship held between the two of them.
“Oh no, if anyone might sympathize it would be me. I know all too well the advantages and amenities that come with working out of the home, nowadays it would seem I can’t write a speech outside of my own study… I was merely offering what I suppose you might call a bit of ‘friendly’ insight.” A clearing of the throat and Comstock approached her, a pocket watch drawn from his coat. “Gather what paperwork you must madam, I’ve arranged to have a hovercraft pick us up in port prosperity.”
Explanation hadn’t been necessary, for she could only begin to conclude that whatever impasse he might make mention of would take antecedence. The particular volume in his grip ironically alluding toward the technological guidance that had once been vital when beginning to operate the Siphon– one of many objects the Lutece’s had established. It hadn’t been often that a stern woman as she would ever openly discuss what little solace the buoyant city they’d currently occupied. Though, the majority of the while it wasn’t needed since the only sentiments worthy of a soft composure had been solitude, accomplishment, and the sublime– her very sibling. The very though had her neck craning in the opposite direction toward the deeper chambers of the Lutece Laboratories.
Friendly insight perhaps, but no mind is paid to it. Only lightly nodding her head, as though the very notion had reached her, Rosalind inevitably parts her lips. “I suppose I should thank you for considering convenience.” Dull stare following his gestures as her hands floated toward her center, interlocking just in front of her torso, affirmation is stated with a nod before approaching a nearby table surface riddled in articles and notes aplenty.
“I’ve come to request your presence at the monument, the boys in the lab think a new siphon might be necessary for further containment.” Comstock explained as he made entrance into her home, eyes glancing around towards the various scientific equipment scattered throughout. “I would think I needn’t stress the threat that girl poses for our city if left unchecked. No doubt you’ve heard the reports… Citizens merging into themselves or some such nonsense.” Of course he referred to the small spurts of madness that seemed to be rearing it’s head amongst his public, reportedly originating from those brave enough to actually enter the stray tear.
With a straightening of his tie, the Governor leans over to pick a fallen tome from the floor offering it to the physicist. ”Really Rosalind, would it hurt to have a lab separate from your home? I’m not one to talk regarding working out of the house, but this is a tad much.”
Indifference had set in her marble constructed visage, the evidence in this being her unyielding eyes that didn’t glimmer though illumination encouraged it. While folks had often spoke with the Madam, their gaze being shared and presence acknowledged, it had almost as well been thought they’d held conversation with that of a sculpture. Now, it hadn’t so much been as a means to taunt the other person– Comstock of all folk should perceive this accurately. “This evening?” She began, “I hadn’t anticipated having to leave my paperwork.” It was a sacrifice she would have to make. Lutece had simply been a questionable woman, her motives remaining set while her character had been stern and methodical.
“It is a matter which I have yet to resolve.” Likely every concern had been balanced atop her frail shoulders, though it had never once induced a tumble. Much alike to a house of cards, each predicament had been granted equilibrium.
Stare following his gesture in a far from amused fashion, it have been too long before both lips came to part and for once, sentiments flowed from her being. “I find comfort in my home, Governer. While I do appreciate that I am in your thoughts, I do prefer to perform without prying eyes…” Fingers gently curling against her upper arms as they had come to cross. “I feel that assistance more often than not, tends to hinder my progress.”
Feigning ignorance? How quaint. As brilliant a scientist as R. Lutece proved to be, there was nary a time where either of their shared ego hadn’t worn on Zachary’s patience. With a short clearing of his throat- the Governor clasped his hands behind his back, approaching the woman speaking.
“Tears opening around the city, massive power failures, you name it… I received word from Fink earlier this morning, something happened in the tower that caused the siphon to all but shut down. We suspect it to be something relating to the girl.”
Brows raised to counter his words and the rather glaring exasperation that hung from his stare, shaded by his rather stern bone structure. Resembling more of a villain than any sort of individual with sound integrity, the ginger acknowledges a welcome by shifting toward the side to reluctantly allude to some sort of hospitality, though they had both rightly known that this nature was barren. These tears in realities had been all on account of a ‘toddler’s’ incompetence, the root of this impasse being on account of both herself and her fictitious sibling.
“It is certainly plausible,” Jeremiah Fink had been reminiscent of a rodent. Whenever an occasion had wrought of convenience, he’d been the first and foremost to profit. Now that there had been a child dangling just what he sought, the man was undoubtedly badgering his entire work force to tend toward his greed. “Is it that you have come to make a proposition?” Why else had he been present, to gripe?
It was with a disapproving look from the wife that Governor Comstock would disembark towards the house of Madam Lutece, the latest report of malfunctions and power-outages in the tower requiring him pay her a visit. Unfortunately in his haste he had neglected to call ahead, which would leave him in-front of her house knocking for some time. That was until clicking of a woman’s shoe sounded behind him.
“Ah, Madam Lutece. I’ve been standing here for quite some time…”
Neither had been awareof whom might knock at this hour, but estimating by the rather evident deficiency in electrical power... One could only assume that it had been a crony come to warn the Lutece’s of their self-indulgence.
“My apologies. I had been a bit preoccupied with varying documents and the like...” What she had been referring had been technological advancements that only the Lutece’s only had the dexterity of bolstering.
With a short breath, she’d finally took to asking: “May I help you with something, Governor?” The madam knew just well what he would require of her but if he’d been in need of her service and the machinery he’d so been so accustomed toward, than there would be renounce from her work.
