played by
Gambit
POSTS
11
awards
|
Inactive
call me James
He/Him
24 YEARS OLD
August
5
Leo
Seattle, Washington
Heterosexual
Singer / Medic
TAG WITH @jamison
JAMISON ARTHUR
no one wants to see the way society keeps spreading the disease.
[nospaces] [attr="class","pwfcontain"] [attr="class","pwfheader"] [attr="class","pwfhdnotes"]
Has his coffee, I'd say you're set!
[attr="class","pwficon"] [attr="class","pwficonbg"] [attr="class","pwfbody"]
For a connoisseur that invested heavily in the importation and purchase of exotic coffee, Jamison was thoroughly disappointed by the swill that most cafe chains offered their customers. His current cup, which rested snugly in his right palm, was about as tasteless as the last fifteen. It made him long to be in his apartment, surrounded by amenities that he'd amassed specifically for his own daily routine. There was a comfort there that he couldn't replicate, and that included a rather expensive machine designed to make a hot beverage worth drinking. He eyed the swirling, hazel mixture dubiously after having tossed the plastic lid into a nearby trash can. The doctor contemplated throwing it away, or handing it off to someone less fortunate who might actually enjoy the caffeine boost. However -after the long night that he'd had- Jamison required the energy spike more than anyone. Obviously that meant contending with the dissatisfying flavor, but that was small price to pay for alertness.
[break][break]
The early morning usually wasn't kind to him, and less so this particular day: given the night before had been spent suturing one of the revolution's less fortunate members. It'd taken the doctor four hours to fix the sullen soul that he'd been called to handle, and even more so to ensure his condition was stable. By the time he'd made his way out of that run-down project, the new day was just beginning. Jamison had made the quickest stop possible at a nearby Starbucks, and had since ended up here: walking the streets of Pike Place with the blandest coffee this side of Seattle. He chuckled, lifting the container quietly to indulge in another uninterested sip. Each step helped him maneuver the crowds, most of them set on getting to work on time: whereas Jamison was just leaving. The thought made him smile, noting the severe contrast between himself and the everyman. It brought him some joy knowing that he wasn't another standard puppet, but -then again- he did wonder what that sort of life was like. In truth, he'd never worked an honest day in his life. His family possessed too much money for him to consider a job early on, and once his schooling ended...well, he'd received an offer that he couldn't refuse. It wasn't legal, but it didn't matter if no one knew about it. The best part was that he didn't even need a license to treat them. Doctor X called, Jamison fulfilled his obligations, and that was it.
[break][break]
The Doctor hummed a tune under his breath, an unoccupied hand falling to adjust the hem of his blue, striped jacket: lithe digits adjusting the buttons of his white undershirt carefully. In the process, the male hitched his satchel against his rear: the mask inside jostling for position with many of his other medical tools. He needed to get out of this outfit as soon as possible. It might've looked appealing to the eye, but the comfort definitely didn't suit him. His tailor had tightened the endings beyond belief, and Jamison expected a free readjustment when he returned to the store. Clearly that wasn't going to happen today...Jamison was far too tired to deal with their run-around business tactics. Truthfully, all he wanted now was a decent shower and a warm sheets with which to take a long nap. A subtle smile perched on his features, taking several more idle gulps of his drink as he walked. The day could still be salvaged...at least he hoped.
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played by
northy
POSTS
174
awards
|
the devil wears prada
call me aggie
she / her
24 YEARS OLD
October
25
scorpio
bentwood, alabama
pansexual
fashion designer
TAG WITH @aggie
AGGIE COLE
i won't pledge allegiance to a serpent on a tree. i don't believe in satan, but he believes in me.
[attr="class","civilian"] [nospaces] [attr="class","rcposting1top"] [attr="class","rcposting1img"] [attr="class","rcposting1img2"]  [attr="class","rcposting1mid"]
It’s funny how the world tends to toss people together -- the exact right time, the exact right place, the exact right circumstances.[break][break]
Aggie’s quite good at that, actually -- being in the right place at the right time. She’s gifted, that way, and she’s made quite a few friends just by being herself -- a creep, a spitfire, a designer.
She’s on her way to work when she spots the man in the blue coat. She’s wrapped snugly in a parka, hand curled around a steaming cup of green tea, blonde locks pulled back in the gentle winter wind. She almost misses him -- she’s got her face turned down, thoughts of pleated skirts dancing in her head -- it’s his coat, really, that gives him away. [break][break]
Also, he’s standing in front of her building.[break][break]
Almost like he’s waiting for her. Almost like he’d been placed there just in time for Aggie to arrive, tea in hand, ideas fresh on her mind. It’s laughable, really -- his coat is very poorly tailored, far too tight for him as far as the designer can see, and a bit too garishly blue. He’s got this shock of white hair (is it bleached? Natural? It certainly stands out, she thinks) and he’s certainly not bad looking. [break][break]
Model! Her brain supplies her, rather unhelpfully. Model![break][break]
She’s in dire need of a new model, and she’s got a whole rack of clothes that she hasn’t yet had the time to put onto a living human body. This man is certainly the make and model, and, hey, she might even fix that god-awful coat he’s got on.[break][break]
”Hey,” Aggie blurts, standing an almost uncomfortable distance away. ”Blue coat. C’mere. You got a second?”
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|
|
played by
Gambit
POSTS
11
awards
|
Inactive
call me James
He/Him
24 YEARS OLD
August
5
Leo
Seattle, Washington
Heterosexual
Singer / Medic
TAG WITH @jamison
JAMISON ARTHUR
no one wants to see the way society keeps spreading the disease.
[nospaces] [attr="class","pwfcontain"] [attr="class","pwfheader"] [attr="class","pwfhdnotes"]
That's one way to get attention.
[attr="class","pwficon"] [attr="class","pwficonbg"] [attr="class","pwfbody"]
Logical reasoning aside, Jamison seldom cared for approaching strangers. Now, did that make him an unsociable man? Of course not. When the conversation was well-meaning and appropriate, the doctor loved to share talk of the weather or local events. It was an amiable means of passing the time, but when assailed on the street: Jamison was far less open to the prospect of talking. Half of the people that wanted his attention in public were either beggars or sellers, and neither of them had nearly enough charisma for Jamison to buy into whatever story they'd prepared for him that particular day. By this point in the morning, Jamison was ready to decline whatever offer this newest contestant had to share- or so he believed.
[break][break]
His head turned first to greet the woman, scarlet hues assessing her outfit and then her features. Surprisingly, she didn't seem like the two types that he'd previously listed. It was obvious that she wanted something, but this time he couldn't guess what that was. Curious and slightly intrigued by the notion, he swiveled to fully face the woman that had awarded him with his newest moniker: blue coat. Kinda like Blackbeard but not nearly as entertaining to say.
[break][break]
He offered the blonde a gracious smile, an unoccupied hand delving deeper into the folds of his pressed pocket. She was a considerable distance away, so -instead of shouting across the street to draw unnecessary attention- the doctor chose to hold his tongue until she was close enough to speak at regular volume. Whilst she neared, Jamison took to quietly glancing over his coffee cup. A scowl briefly flashed usually apathetic features, finally chucking the unspeakable liquid into a nearby disposal. Fifteen minutes away from his apartment, he figured that he could wait to fix something better later.
[break][break]
Though with the woman finally close enough to examine, Jamison figured that he wouldn't be going anywhere for awhile. "I've got a few, actually. The name's Jamison, by the way. Blue coat is just my alter ego, but he only comes around when I'm angry. I'm basically the Hulk." He conceded, smirking as his other hand found purchase in his free pocket. "What can I do you for?" The inquiry was curt, but never lacking the politeness that tended to accompany most of Jamison's sentences. In the time it took her to answer, Jamison lets his curious orbs wander her attire. Simple enough, but nevertheless looked wonderful on her. The same couldn't be said for his own outfit...but he'd be sure to fix that soon enough: even if he didn't know how soon that would actually be.
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played by
northy
POSTS
174
awards
|
the devil wears prada
call me aggie
she / her
24 YEARS OLD
October
25
scorpio
bentwood, alabama
pansexual
fashion designer
TAG WITH @aggie
AGGIE COLE
i won't pledge allegiance to a serpent on a tree. i don't believe in satan, but he believes in me.
[attr="class","civilian"] [nospaces] [attr="class","rcposting1top"] [attr="class","rcposting1img"] [attr="class","rcposting1img2"] [attr="class","rcposting1mid"]
If there’s one thing Aggie has going for her, it’s her own abrasive personality. Talking to strangers is no problem for her -- in fact, she’s been known to talk to strangers as if they’re her own family, as if she’s known them her entire life. Her brothers get onto her for it -- what if you’re talkin’ to a serial killer, or somethin’? Don’t you ever worry about gettin’ in trouble? -- but she doesn’t ever find herself worrying about it. Her best friend is a hitman and Aggie herself is fairly proficient in the ancient art of swinging a baseball bat like a madwoman. Stranger or not, the man in the blue coat good-looking and he’d fit her new clothing line perfectly. He clearly isn’t about to come to her, so instead she approaches him. Just as she arrives, only a few feet away now, a scowl stretches across his mouth. For a moment, she wonders if he’s done something wrong, but then he tosses what looks like a full cup of coffee into one of the trashcans just outside her building. Huh, she thinks. Maybe someone spit in it.[break][break]
"I've got a few, actually. The name's Jamison, by the way. Blue coat is just my alter ego, but he only comes around when I'm angry. I'm basically the Hulk." [break][break]
Smart guy, huh?[break][break]
Aggie smiles wryly. ”Funny,” she says, almost deadpan. Normally, small talk would be exciting -- expected, even, but she’s got work to do and a deadline to make. If she doesn’t pay her rent soon, she’ll be in hot water -- her last paycheck had gone towards paying bail for her idiot of a best friend and she’d had to beg her landlord to extend her deadline. As long as she gets this set in on time, she’ll be fine -- pulling through by the skin of her teeth, but fine. She’s not used to being late for things, especially not deadlines for her work. ”I’m a designer at this firm. Right here.” She gestures up at the building behind them, shining glass and impossibly tall. [break][break]
”I’m, uh. Looking for a model to wear some of my new stuff, and you,” she says, nodding at the white-haired man, Jamison, ”Look like you’d, uh, fit.” She doesn’t miss his roving gaze, and she swallows down a lump of discomfort. She needs this man, this model, to live comfortably in her home. She’d rather spend time with him, alone, than be evicted without mercy. Aggie shakes off her revulsion and nods. ”Plus, I could fix that coat for you. It’s way too tight. Looks like those seams are about to pop.”[break][break]
And then, she adds, for good measure (because green is the only color people seem to care about these days), ”You’ll be paid for your efforts. If you want.”
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