Based off ‘Charming Junkie’
A photographer walked into a modeling agency.
Though young, he was rather talented. Determination and ambition was gleaming in his eyes.
If only he doesn't get rejected again.
Something must’ve went wrong during the interviews. They never give him much of a chance before seeing his works, his talent, what he was capable of.
But a small part of him knows that he is sure to be hearing those words again.
"We'll consider you. Please wait for our feedback."
They never call.
Its funny, really, how he got into photography. He always had a special appreciation of beauty in people, but what really got him started was seeing a photo of Jamie Royaute. It sounds rather foolish, but it did. Using his talent to capture a person's beauty, he hoped one day to amplify Jamie's.
Holding on to his source of motivation, he walked more confidently towards the elevator.
And into a person.
Perhaps he was a little too excited, knowing that this could be another chance. Another chance despite so many past rejections.
A student ID fall from the person he walked into. He quickly apologized and picked up the card to return to its owner.
He couldn't help take notice of the name.
"Oh, may I have that back?"
He heard Jamie's sweet voice, a voice of a female's.
He looked up to meet see Jamie. He haven't realize that he was frozen in place, his smile too.
"J-Jamie? But the gender is--"
A hand flew to his mouth to prevent him from uttering the word.
"Fuck." A curse word was lowly muttered in a male's voice, by a person who looked like Jamie herself.
Confused glances settled on the two figures, and Jamie managed a smile that can only be associated with blossoming flowers. "Oh, Just a friend I recognized. We haven't talked for so long! We need to catch up, here, come with me~"
And he was helplessly dragged away.
Someone to fill the photographer's role. Should be somewhat straightforward, not afraid to say things out loud. Smiles. Manipulative or not, I don't mind.
Jamie will be kind of a tsundere, so keep that in mind.
Name: Jamie Royaute
Looks: Platinum Blonde hair. His hair is short but rather fluffy looking. He brushes his bangs slightly to the side when he’s ‘Jaimee’ and more to the front and covers some of his eyes when he’s just himself. He’s around 175 cm tall and has a slim figure. His shoulders are not broad. Jamie’s eyes are a greenish hazel. The main difference (besides clothes) between ‘Jaimee’ and himself was their smiles. “Jaimee” smiles a lot, and each smile a blossoming one, while Jamie hardly smiles. You’re lucky to see him not frowning.
I’ll provide a picture later
Personality and Bio: Jamie doesn’t have much of a life besides being “Jaimee”, he felt a little hollow about the fact, and slightly worry whether “Jaimee” is eating up his existence. But that was just minor. Since he’s “Jaimee” most of the time, he is a bit lost on what to do when he’s not. He wasn’t supposed to behave a certain way and all.. He’s a bit lost on how to behave when there isn’t an expectation, that was accounted for his slight inability to express things.
He was first caught in this ridiculous scheme when his friend wanted him to sit in on her first job but failed to show up. So when he stood there alone in the studio, he was forced to replace her.
I usually know more about my characters along the rp, and i’ll slip you more segments about him later on.
Jamie’s name was altered to Jaimee in his career, but it was official that “her” name was actually Jamie.
Fill this out:
Looks: (picture or description, or both )
★You just found out that the girl you admired so much is actually male. Don’t go all its cool i still love you.
★But then again, he holds something over you.
★Have lots of fun
Name: Lucas Clarkson
Looks: Luc stands with a height of 182 centimeters—In the nude, his tall frame doesn’t look emaciated thanks to his slightly muscular body build, but because of the fact that he usually wears loose, thrift store-type clothing, people commonly mistake him for a breathing skeleton. The only time he takes a break from wearing his baggy threads is when he has to take a picture of something or someone—The slack hems and edges make it hard for any photographer to move to get that perfect shot. He usually has thick-rimmed glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose, and the lenses, which reflect light thanks to some absurd technology that was supposed to make eyeglasses fancier, make it hard to obtain eye-to-eye contact. Once in a place near devoid of lighting though, bright blue irises gleam from behind the thick glasses.
His dark brown hair falls down in messy waves. Short bangs, hastily cut once upon a time, are still long enough to cover a half-inch from his eyebrows. When busy, he ties up his hair into a small bun which rests on top of his head like an upturned stack of hay.
Personality: Unlike what his appearance made people believe, Luc isn’t a nerd. He’s a hot-tempered person by nature and often speeds through roads and streets as if he was running late for an appointment, which he is, usually getting grumpy when the person in front of him was walking too slowly. It takes a lot for him to actually get smoking mad as he forgets grievances very quickly, but when he does get offended he never forgets it. Lucas isn’t a big fan of logic games but has an unholy addiction to mystery films—Other genres aside from horror get thrown away in the trash. He says the only reason he wastes money in the cinema is because he wants to see the setting… Or something like that.
He keeps his mouth shut since when he talks, people often always run away crying or some stupid thing like that. Doesn’t mean he’s a fool in the ways of flattery, though.
Bio: From the very start Lucas already knew that he was born to hold a camera. His parents were both advocates of the arts—The father was a sculptor and the mother was a painter. Though their relationship was strained at best (because they both had affairs, the boy learned as he grew up) the objects in the house were far from stress-inducing. The kid spent more than enough time staring at a vase and wondering which was the best vantage point to view it from—The top of the dresser or from under the table? When he received a small digicam for his seventh birthday, it was then and there that the never-ending addiction to picture taking took place.
Last edited by kathiminion1; 06-13-2013 at 12:36 PM.
Not that Lucas was completely defenseless—He was just plain dumbfounded with the turn of events. Maybe he was just imagining things. ‘You can hear strange bass sounds sometimes too, dude,’ The male thought, but all the way through the tiny ordeal of being publicly dragged by a pretty ‘girl’ his mouth was open, resembling a fish gasping for air. No really, this wasn’t happening. It was all a bad prank that the employers set up to see how he would react to weird situations—Thing is, what good would this experience do to a photographer? It wasn’t as if bats were going to fly over the roof of the set, so it wasn’t as if he needed emotional boggling. Companies these days.
All the while he was thinking, he got shoved inside a room. First thoughts were that he’d be brutally hit over the head and left for dead, but thankfully the only thing “Jamie Royaute” did was lock the door. Probably to hit him over the head and leave him for—Lucas shook his head violently and glanced around. Well if things go the wrong way he’d have to find an escape route! Through the ventilation system, maybe? People do that all the time in movies. It didn’t even dawn on him that he was quite taller than his “assailant”, really—I guess you could say that Lucas was way too obsessed with trying to find a way out to even make sense of anything at all.
He turned around, obviously giving up. “Look, I don’t have anything to say to you. Nada, zilch,” The man muttered, sliding his bag away from his body in case something got thrown at him.
After Jamie carefully but quickly closed the door behind him, and wasted no time in the swift actions of locking the door with a satisfying click and putting his back against the door. If the man happens to decide on an attempt to make a run for the door, at least there is another line of defence-- his body-- in front of the door, though his flimsy body doesn't look so effective against the significantly larger male before him. And Jamie thought he was tall for this age.
Jamie reached right, and his slender fingers accurately landed on the switch. With a flick, Jamie flooded the room with bright light and he reluctantly met the gleaming glasses of the other, whose almost-violent actions conveyed nothing but frantic. The doll like boy waited for his abductee to settle with twig like arms crossed in front of his chest, and a frown that's seemingly engraved into his face. The abductee's first words created furrows between his brows.
"Shut it," Jamie spat out a sharp sigh through his teeth. "This better be the case with other's as well. Another word about my gender..."
Jamie gave the figure before him a once-over. The last Jamie would want is the man's mouth to be a screw loose. There must be something to keep those screws nice and tight... That was when Jamie's eyes caught sight of what the other was shielding. A bulky bag, and Jamie could vaguely make out the shape of a camera. This is it.
"Speak not a word about it... and you're guaranteed a spot as my appointed photographer."
"Speak not a word about it... and you're guaranteed a spot as my appointed photographer."
His bag slid away from his back enticingly- It took a few moments for those words to sink in, and when they did Lucas felt the need to gulp down torrents of air. This was exactly why he was here- to finally be a photographer, not just because he held a camera, but because he actually had a job. Sure he’d kinda be stuck with her- er him, seeing how he reacted just now was proof enough that Luc stumbled into something big- but that was fine if he could snap photos. If there was ever something that tempted Lucas, this was it. He was on the edge of agreeing with Jamie, if that was really who he was, but then his mind realized one tiny detail: Wasn’t this bribery?
Ok, now that was something that completely snapped him out of his reverie. He wasn’t that kind of person. Luc’s glasses shone over creepily as he advanced towards Jamie- He stopped a few inches from the other boy and squinted his eyes, though it wasn’t really evident since his glasses were shining like taillights. “I’m not a stud service for you to just hire like that. I’d rather leave this place and get back to my job interview,” He muttered, locking his own arms over his chest defiantly. Yeah, he wanted to get out of this place and burn every single picture he had of Jamie back home. Actually the worse this Jamie could do was ruin the interview, but even then he doubted that she-he was that rude of a person. It just … clashed with the picture he had formed in his brain.
Oh shit, oh shit, his glasses are really creepy.
Those were the first thoughts in Jamie's mind when Lucas advanced toward him... Because, they really are. And it was only until later the discomfort of the taller's words start to take effect. Jamie forced his head up proudly to meet Lucas' glasses in refusal to cower in the other's great height. His nose scrunched up in discuss as he spat out words through gritted teeth.
"You walking idiocy, then you had better en--"d up jobless, wind up on the streets, and starve to death while you suffer from hypothermia. Jamie stopped himself before more malicious words can spew. What is wrong? He usually holds his temper very well. This man should not be an exception in the case. There is no need to stop being Jaimee either... Because he is nothing without the other demeanour.
Jamie smiled, because Jaimee most definitely would, and spoke the nectar-drenched words. "Oh no, don't get me wrong. I'm only offering you a greater chance into the job. There's only one group of job interviews scheduled for today... The one I spoke of. I don't have absolute influence, of course," he made a surprised face, as if the concept of authority has never occurred to him, "but I can try to put in a few good words. If you don't have the talent to climb the last few steps to earn it, then," he shrugged.
Whoa whoa whoa, was there something in the air in here? Lucas was ready to sit through a particularly venomous tirade, but the sudden change of words was a surprise. He stiffened then tilted his head backwards, the light sliding off his glasses when he moved away from under the bleak fluorescent bulb, and grabbed hold of his bag. There it was again. It was as though the job was an apple hanging from a tree that he could just reach up and grab—It was so damn close! Inner demons wailed from inside their wrought iron cage, begging for Lucas to zip his stupid mouth shut and just make the deal. His good side railed against the evil protests with shrieks extolling the advantages of keeping your virtue intact in a world that was very much impure—At this rate he wasn’t sure which side he would take. There didn’t seem to be a middle ground, so to speak, in this situation…
Luc’s surprise turned to caution when Jaime’s speech turned softer, more feminine. This was most probably the Jaimee side, the one he liked—Or at least it was the voice that fit her sweet and sunny image—so he knew for a fact that someone who called him a “walking idiocy” was either very cunning or bipolar to suddenly switch personae like that. His gentian eyes pierced through his eyeglasses as he sized up the smaller male in front of him. This one was a pretty little snake too, ready to bite him in the ass as soon as he got the opportunity to make shit hit the fan—Or at least that was Luc’s current view pertaining Jaime’s reliability.
“It’s not like this is the only company looking for photographers,” He muttered under his breath, the words rushing out like a buzz from a group of incensed bees. Actually yes, it may not be the only open one but really, how many weeks would he have to spend to find another job opening? Lucas didn’t want to think. Really, he didn’t want to be here with Jaimee- or Jaime- at all. This was a day that just made him want to rage.
“Oh, you don’t have to ruin your reputation for the walking idiocy. I’m not going to spill a word about whatever happened here, anyway. As much as possible I’d like to forget that anything happened between the two of us. It made me rethink a lot of things. Important things. So, can you please move away from the door? Seriously, I’m late. Maybe it’s because you have a job so you don’t know how it feels like to be flitting around like what I’m doing right now,” Lucas countered quickly, sarcasm dripping and splashing around in his voice.
(I want to draw Lucas haha... are his eyebrows exposed? )
Jamie squinted against the reflected light on his face and subconsciously gnawed on his lower lip as he waited for a reply. Now someone might complain when Jaimee's lips becomes all chewed up and gross, but the matter has not crossed the boy's mind yet. There is a growing hate for the pair of glasses. First off, they're creepy. Secondly, there's no way to know what the other is thinking. Heck, he doesn't even know the color of the other's eyes yet. He wants to see the flickers of emotion in those eyes, see them roll while a response is formulated. Jamie couldn't do much with the anticipated response, he doesn't know, but at least there's a response! Instead, he can only gnaw on his lower lip. Those glasses really amplifies the dim light from the small light bulb don't they?
And you could indeed see bright hope falling flat and shattering into little dull pieces when the verdict is given. At least you can see it -- unlike some sly ass photographer who got a pair of glasses to hide eyes behind. That cannot be. Fertilized by the words, panic and desperation grew inside Jamie. His career can't die just yet-- without Jaimee, he's nothing. He doesn't know what to be, what to become, and how to act. Some random man can't just walk by and strip Jamie of what he is. He needs to stop him before the photographer goes out there and wreak havoc. Whatever he may say right now, Jamie needs to see for himself.
And pride, were the strings that kept him from falling apart.
"I'm late as well," Jamie said through gritted teeth, "and true, its not," he forced his head up in dignity and fixed a smile in place. "But you haven't find one so far? Else you wouldn't be here. How long have you been looking?" Keep talking, keep talking. He can't leave as long as you keep talking and you stand in the door. Words don't hurt. "If you can get the job, it proves your skills. A skilled photographer won't ruin my reputation. Just give it a try," Jamie managed. Heck, why does he have to step so low?
(sobs i don't see you on skype anymore)
(Nope, his eyebrows are covered. Sorry for the absence. uvu)
Oh dear Lord, somebody prevent him from doing something he’d definitely regret in the immediate future; preferably give him a leg cramp to stop him from lashing out in a way that would make even the most lenient of judges dismiss him from the courtroom with a ‘Guilty’ verdict. Truly, the contents of the boxes all around were looking more and more tempting to use against Jaime. Lucas took a deep breath and reached up—The action almost violent were it not for the apparent fact that he was going to massage his forehead—then shook his head softly. Damn, this one just won’t let it go, wouldn’t he?
“You know what? You’re damn right I’m going to get that job. And when I do, I sure as hell would—,” He gnashed his teeth together loudly, obviously getting angrier by the second but desperately trying to calm himself down. The photographer’s hands were balled up now into tight fists, the knuckles pale as the skin was stretched over the bones mercilessly. The little imp was bad for his temper. It was so early in the day but for some reason Lucas already felt as though he experienced enough stress to last a week. He well and truly abhorred people who trapped him in a corner and just wouldn’t give up their agenda—especially when it was he who stood to lose something the longer time passed.
Finally, a few minutes later, the young man composed himself and his stature relaxed. He unfurled his fingers and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Jaime intently in case the other had something else to say. When no other words filled the empty space between the two of them, Lucas removed his eyeglasses and wiped the lenses using his shirt. He took his time, staring down at the bright glass with his equally piercing blue orbs, and then raised his head to look away from the reflected light. “Just to make it clear, you haven’t won. I’m going to take this job because it is exactly why I came here for, and I don’t want any shit surfacing out of anywhere. I’m not your damn chivalrous knight, my dear Miss, so do try to leave me and my temper alone. Now move away from the door,” He stated clearly, calmly, though in such a chilling way that one was sure he wasn’t at peace—Extremely far from a settled mindset, actually. You just knew that he was going to punch something through and through after a few seconds—Or worse.
Jamie let out the softest of whimpers as he shrunk towards the wall in reflex. Realization struck when the blow didn't, and Jamie quickly straightened himself. The model bit down on his lower lip, hoping the previous gesture would gone unnoticed. Now when someone complains about his lips looking damaged they should try to understand near death experiences.
Jamie looked up at the man in defiance as he spat out words through gritted teeth. "My exact thoughts. Don't try anything," He muttered. Jamie turned around and flung open the door in such an alarming speed that it was as if the door would collide into Lucas' face. However, he caught the nob at the last moment. Jamie proceeded to kill the fluorescent light with a quick flick of switch. As light from outside flooded into his sight, his eyes looked at the world in friendly curiosity, and joy of finding a long lost friend. Jaimee turned back with a smile. A smile that can only be associated with blossoming flowers.
It was only in the elevator that he asked, "You sure as hell would what?" ... In friendly curiosity.
This day just lurched from “average” to “damned”. For a flat second Lucas was happy that he got to make Jaime exhibit even the tiniest bit of fear, but that glee soon traipsed downhill when, once again, he found himself in another setting. This time it was an elevator. Even before he had time to marvel the lack of concern he had for his surroundings, a sickly sweet voice penetrated his senses—The young photographer instantly tilted his head to the side, only to see Jaime looking up at him quite innocently.
He narrowed his eyes and glanced away. If this one could act, then so could he, but it wasn’t really the time to be theatric. Besides, he simply wasn’t in the mood to talk anymore. Now what floor was he supposed to go off?