Rosalind Lutece (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
originallutece) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nysalogs2018-02-10 01:16 am
originallutece) wrote in nysalogs2018-02-10 01:16 am
so if you see my sister rosalind tell that girl to hurry home again
Who: Rosalind Lutece (originallutece) & YOU
What: Various open prompts! Most of them coming from the opening log.
When: First half of February
Where: Wyver and Olympia
Warning(s): Maybe some nsfw??
Wyver - Lagoon
[Perhaps not all that unusually for her, Rosalind is once again at the lagoons. What is unusual: she doesn't seem to be alone. She's most certainly chatting to someone, murmuring instructions and the occasional bit of praise, but to whom? There's no one around-- Or so it seems, anyway.
Come in close, and you'll spot a very small, very determined hippo kicking its way through the water. He keeps looking up at Rosalind, seeking approval and praise-- and oddly enough, she seems inclined to give it, in her own reserved fashion.]
I told you that you'd do well. You're built for this. No, don't come to shore, don't be lazy, you've got to build up your muscles and your stamina. I've a treat for you when you're done.
[But here's the truly oddest thing: the hippo seems keen on mirroring his master. He wiggles joyfully when she smiles; he grunts with effort when she prompts him into exercising more. But that's probably just a coincidence . . . right?]
Wyver - Victory Celebration - Festive Spirit - maybe nsfw
[There's some kind of celebration going on in Wyver, but honestly, when isn't there? She's only been in this universe six months and it seems as if they're having a celebration about the moon or the stars or some long-dead hero . . . it's headache inducing, but she supposes there's little harm in it, especially when she doesn't actually live here.
She doesn't mean to venture into the festivities, but it's hard to avoid them. Someone presses a cocktail into her hands and leers at her when they offer her paints, and she rolls her eyes at both, but it's easier to just pocket the latter instead of refusing them. She does not offer her body to be painted, but she might let those paints drop if she finds herself with someone she's already acquainted with.
But in the meantime, she sips her drink and stares with a neutral expression at someone wandering around with paint and little else. Whether they're a man or a woman is irrelevant; she stares, and though her expression is blank, her gaze lingers just a little too long. Is that a flush to her cheek? Perhaps.]
I suppose that's one thing about Wyver: they certainly are eager to offer entertainments.
Wyver - Victory Celebration - this time with Robert tho
[Of course, Rosalind isn't the only one enjoying herself. There's a man wandering around, tall and bright-eyed, smiling as he sips at a drink and socializes with others. He seems somewhat eager to talk to others, though his smile is a little odd . . . almost as if he's all but taking notes behind those blue eyes of his.
But hey, it's not a time for introspection. Right now, the man-- his name is Robert, has he told you?-- gestures for another drink, smiling as he turns to watch whatever entertainment is spilling out on the streets.]
What on earth are they trying to do? Good grief, they're bound to break a neck trying to jump around atop each other like that.
Olympia - Dark Turns
[But all good things have to come to an end, and soon Rosalind returns home. The far more somber festivities are still taking place, not that she much cares. She ignores the glares she gets for coming in from Wyver, rolling her eyes at the whispers . . . but it doesn't stop at that. People have warned her that she'd get in trouble for trying to play both sides, but she'd ignored them. Oh, she's noticed the whispers and rumors and whatnot, but so what? That hardly effects her.
But she's come back at night, and people are feeling particularly patriotic, and that . . . that means trouble.
There's three men following her down the street. She can hear them, because they're not bothering to be quiet, not at all. They're jeering at her, catcalling and calling out to her; she ignores them. There's no use in confronting them. But that isn't enough for them, it seems. One of them catches up to her, grabbing her elbow, and she jerks, yanking her arm away sharply.]
Get off.
Olympia - Flona Cove
[She's not foolish enough to swim in the cove again. She doesn't even stick her feet in, not when the last time she'd done that had resulted in her feeling up a boy a decade younger than her. But she does sit by it, her boots shed and resting at her side, watching the water with a surprisingly soft expression. Her little hippo is nearby, of course, huffing and puffing as he swims around in the water. His grunts of effort echo throughout the cove, and Rosalind smiles to see him work.
No one comes to bother her for a long while, though, and that's nice. It's nice to be alone, frankly, and she's lulled into a relaxed state because of it. The water is warm and she feels so very calm . . . and so, her voice very soft, vocalized under her breath, she sings.
(Perhaps the cove is effecting her more than she realizes).
She's a sweet voice, steady and surprisingly high-pitched, and the tune she sings has the tune of a waltz, her voice rising and falling. Only about half the lyrics are articulated; for the rest she hums softly, continuing the tune, enjoying the way the cove echoes her voice back to her. And if she isn't interrupted, she'll turn to something a little more jaunty. Though this tune, oddly enough, doesn't sound as though it comes from her time period. And it isn't the right name she articulates-- rather, she puts her own in place of it, laughing softly as she does.]
Other; [Rosalind will also be wandering around as her counterpart, Robert Lutece. She'll be disguised completely, an illusion covering her. Her interactions will be far more energetic, and "he'll" be eager to socalize, so feel free to meet him in Wyver or Olympia, deep in the festivites.]
originallutece) & YOU What: Various open prompts! Most of them coming from the opening log.
When: First half of February
Where: Wyver and Olympia
Warning(s): Maybe some nsfw??
Wyver - Lagoon
[Perhaps not all that unusually for her, Rosalind is once again at the lagoons. What is unusual: she doesn't seem to be alone. She's most certainly chatting to someone, murmuring instructions and the occasional bit of praise, but to whom? There's no one around-- Or so it seems, anyway.
Come in close, and you'll spot a very small, very determined hippo kicking its way through the water. He keeps looking up at Rosalind, seeking approval and praise-- and oddly enough, she seems inclined to give it, in her own reserved fashion.]
I told you that you'd do well. You're built for this. No, don't come to shore, don't be lazy, you've got to build up your muscles and your stamina. I've a treat for you when you're done.
[But here's the truly oddest thing: the hippo seems keen on mirroring his master. He wiggles joyfully when she smiles; he grunts with effort when she prompts him into exercising more. But that's probably just a coincidence . . . right?]
Wyver - Victory Celebration - Festive Spirit - maybe nsfw
[There's some kind of celebration going on in Wyver, but honestly, when isn't there? She's only been in this universe six months and it seems as if they're having a celebration about the moon or the stars or some long-dead hero . . . it's headache inducing, but she supposes there's little harm in it, especially when she doesn't actually live here.
She doesn't mean to venture into the festivities, but it's hard to avoid them. Someone presses a cocktail into her hands and leers at her when they offer her paints, and she rolls her eyes at both, but it's easier to just pocket the latter instead of refusing them. She does not offer her body to be painted, but she might let those paints drop if she finds herself with someone she's already acquainted with.
But in the meantime, she sips her drink and stares with a neutral expression at someone wandering around with paint and little else. Whether they're a man or a woman is irrelevant; she stares, and though her expression is blank, her gaze lingers just a little too long. Is that a flush to her cheek? Perhaps.]
I suppose that's one thing about Wyver: they certainly are eager to offer entertainments.
Wyver - Victory Celebration - this time with Robert tho
[Of course, Rosalind isn't the only one enjoying herself. There's a man wandering around, tall and bright-eyed, smiling as he sips at a drink and socializes with others. He seems somewhat eager to talk to others, though his smile is a little odd . . . almost as if he's all but taking notes behind those blue eyes of his.
But hey, it's not a time for introspection. Right now, the man-- his name is Robert, has he told you?-- gestures for another drink, smiling as he turns to watch whatever entertainment is spilling out on the streets.]
What on earth are they trying to do? Good grief, they're bound to break a neck trying to jump around atop each other like that.
Olympia - Dark Turns
[But all good things have to come to an end, and soon Rosalind returns home. The far more somber festivities are still taking place, not that she much cares. She ignores the glares she gets for coming in from Wyver, rolling her eyes at the whispers . . . but it doesn't stop at that. People have warned her that she'd get in trouble for trying to play both sides, but she'd ignored them. Oh, she's noticed the whispers and rumors and whatnot, but so what? That hardly effects her.
But she's come back at night, and people are feeling particularly patriotic, and that . . . that means trouble.
There's three men following her down the street. She can hear them, because they're not bothering to be quiet, not at all. They're jeering at her, catcalling and calling out to her; she ignores them. There's no use in confronting them. But that isn't enough for them, it seems. One of them catches up to her, grabbing her elbow, and she jerks, yanking her arm away sharply.]
Get off.
Olympia - Flona Cove
[She's not foolish enough to swim in the cove again. She doesn't even stick her feet in, not when the last time she'd done that had resulted in her feeling up a boy a decade younger than her. But she does sit by it, her boots shed and resting at her side, watching the water with a surprisingly soft expression. Her little hippo is nearby, of course, huffing and puffing as he swims around in the water. His grunts of effort echo throughout the cove, and Rosalind smiles to see him work.
No one comes to bother her for a long while, though, and that's nice. It's nice to be alone, frankly, and she's lulled into a relaxed state because of it. The water is warm and she feels so very calm . . . and so, her voice very soft, vocalized under her breath, she sings.
(Perhaps the cove is effecting her more than she realizes).
She's a sweet voice, steady and surprisingly high-pitched, and the tune she sings has the tune of a waltz, her voice rising and falling. Only about half the lyrics are articulated; for the rest she hums softly, continuing the tune, enjoying the way the cove echoes her voice back to her. And if she isn't interrupted, she'll turn to something a little more jaunty. Though this tune, oddly enough, doesn't sound as though it comes from her time period. And it isn't the right name she articulates-- rather, she puts her own in place of it, laughing softly as she does.]
Other; [Rosalind will also be wandering around as her counterpart, Robert Lutece. She'll be disguised completely, an illusion covering her. Her interactions will be far more energetic, and "he'll" be eager to socalize, so feel free to meet him in Wyver or Olympia, deep in the festivites.]
no subject
[But admittedly, she'd been paying attention for him.]
. . . what was it like? Were you aware of it at all?
no subject
Nah. It was just like...I remembered being at home, and feelin' pretty sick, and next thing I knew I came to on Thesa. Pretty...creepy, but hey, it was only a week, at least.
no subject
Indeed. And you didn't miss much, frankly. Another festival in Wyver, and I saw a great deal more of a particular man than I wished to, but nothing particularly alarming.
no subject
[ I mean, if it was in Wyver, then it probably wasn't Ardyn...is there someone else hassling his homie!!! ]
no subject
His name is Tani. A terribly competitive man, and one who seems to delight in pushing me.
[And to be fair, she him. Truthfully, she isn't upset at Tani so much as she's fascinated by him, eager to egg him on and triumph over him. It's just that she didn't really want to see him shirtless and filthy.
Still. There's a slight smile on her face.]
I can't say as I outdrank him, but I at least kept up.
no subject
And I can't say I'm surprised you kept up. Is he one of the locals? Or...one of us?
[ He wonders if that distinction will ever get less jarring. He still catches himself sometimes, about to say more than he should about his past. About where he's really from. ]
no subject
[Truthfully, she doesn't associate much with the locals. They seem so dull, focused only on their petty day-to-day affairs. Why should she chain herself to that?
Rosalind leans back, resting her weight back on her hands, keeping a wary eye on Darwin. She doesn't doubt Prompto will take good care of him, but she's protective of him.]
I suppose we'll see what we compete on next time.
[Spoiler: it's not going to go well.]
In any case: for the moment, he's situated in Wyver, which brings the added bonus of that I don't have to meet up with him until I'm good and ready. Stop--
[She adds that to Darwin, who has started wiggling in Prompto's lap. It isn't wiggling to get anywhere; it's just wiggling, excited and aimless.]
no subject
He shoots her a sly grin. ]
If I didn't know any better, I'd guess you might be a bit excited to throw down with him again!
[ is rosalind also a tsundere, he's got a good read on those now, thanks alisaie ]
no subject
I'm not excited.
[Yes she is. Darwin still certainly seems to think so; he's flicking his little ears madly, huffing happily in Prompto's lap.
Rosalind shoots him a poisonous look. Traitor. Stiffly, then:]
It's simply rare for me to find someone who can challenge me. That's all. Don't make it sound like something vulgar.
no subject
Hah - I'm not, I'm not! Sheesh, you make it sound like bein' friends with some guy is somethin' to be ashamed of!
[ He teases, but REALLY. ]
no subject
[She says that surprisingly swiftly, decisive in that judgement.]
Certainly nothing like, say, what you and I have.
[What she doesn't say, because she doesn't actually want Prompto to hate Tani, is that it's a little more like what she and Ardyn have. Something sharp and bitter, something that hurts as much as it draws her in.
In any case: she wrinkles her nose after a moment, smiling faintly.]
Someday, I'll see if I can't pull up a simulation of where I grew up. The way you speak sometimes . . . being friends with some guy wasn't something one did when I was growing up. It simply wasn't an option.
[Not that she ever paid that much mind, but it's amusing to hear him say such a thing as though it's easy.]
no subject
Really? Then, uh...did you have any friends? Or does your world just...not...do friends?
[ Kind of sounds like a crappy place to live if that's the case, but Prompto can at least get the growing up with no friends part, hah. ]
no subject
[She's still kind of insufferable, frankly. Darwin (and Rosalind) doesn't seem all that upset; he flops onto his back, lazily closing his eyes. If Prompto wants to scritch his belly, so much the better.]
But there are worse things. And I had my books, so I was satisfied.
no subject
[ Take it from him, someone who felt like he was trying to be something he wasn't for a very, very long time. ]
Guess my friends were my pics instead of books. [ But don't give him a hard time about how he doesn't read enough!! He gets that enough from Alisaie. ] Until I met Noct, anyway.
no subject
no subject
But anyway. ]
Noct? He's pretty alright, I guess. [ He's joking, of course. Prompto thinks the world of him. It's why they've stuck together for so long, even through the worst of it. ] Even for all the time he spends fishing and napping and picking at his food, there's no one I'd trust more as the king. He always gives someone a chance, he'd do anything for anyone, even the little guys. He'd never give up on anyone. Even when anyone else would have.
[ And Prompto knows that better than just about anyone. ]
...Hope you get to meet him someday.
no subject
[Properly, she means. Not just staring at him through photographs or through the glass pods.
She wonders idly if Prompto is thinking of himself as he says that. He'd never give up on anyone, and she glances down to his wrist, where she knows that barcode is printed.]
. . . does he know about your, ah, origins?
no subject
...Yeah, he does. I was...so worried about what would happen if he found out, ever since the day I met him. He's the prince, and I...I was made to become something that would hurt Lucis. Would hurt him. And you know what he did when I finally came clean?
[ Prompto glances up, tipping his head back with a soft laugh. ]
He didn't even blink before he just accepted me for who I am and told me it didn't matter when I came from. That's...just the kind of person he is.
no subject
[She really is, she finds. Much like his soon-to-be wife, Prompto deserves a friend like that. Someone who accepts him, not just tolerates or grows to understand him.]
How did you two meet, anyway? Perhaps it works differently in your world, but the highlight of my mother's life was getting to meet the Queen just once. We wouldn't dream of befriending any of the royalty.
no subject
It's...kind of a long story. Believe it or not, he was a student at the same public high school as me. We met there and the rest is history. Well - officially, anyway.
[ They had sort of met before, when they were much younger, but Prompto had run away before he even spoke a single word to the prince. But Noctis still remembered it, all these years later. ]
no subject
[Excuse her mildly scandalized tone. In his lap, Darwin squawks indignantly, appalled by the lack of pomp and ceremony in that.]
no subject
[ And Noct particularly so. He never really got high on his own importance, and so Prompto never really treated him like royalty. Not like everyone else did. ]