mitzimay

[mitzimay]

featuring @wicksable , how about a toast to good tidings and new prospects? p.s bring some friends . ( © )

[mitzimay]

missing @wicksable hours :(

[mitzimay]

discord drop!

[mitzimay]

need to actually do stuff on here sometime … and on my other lackadaisy rp account haha

[mitzimay]

the women of weird tales, pt. 1.

dialogue prompts from the women of weird tales (collected by melanie anderson).

love is the greatest folly of all.

what are you intending to do?

your patience will be rewarded.

i’ve been looking for you for a long time.

i had no idea you’d be so interested.

you may have imagined you saw some things.

you’ll have to hear the whole story sooner or later, anyway.

that’s the family curse.

inclination overpowered intuition.

i believe i’m still dreaming, only this dream isn’t a nightmare.

you understand, don’t you?

why didn’t you tell me? you hid it from me.

you can stay and talk a while, if you will.

i’m lonely, but not lost.

this is a poor place for refuge.

all of life should be free.

never speak to me about things you don’t understand.

do you hear me? do you understand?

i used to believe the same way you do, but i can’t now.

i know you won’t laugh at me.

no, i won’t laugh at you.

i know what i saw.

i never have believed in coincidence.

why are you afraid of me?

i don’t know what we’re going to do, but we’ll do something.

you’re not letting me go. it can’t be done. i’m yours for good.

i’d given up hope.

you make me feel like we’re on the edge of an adventure.

the fancies of yesterday are the facts of tomorrow.

[mitzimay]

Thanks for the follow, hope to write with you sometime!)

you’re welcome!! and i hope so too, since i could definitely use some more nico in my life … and lackadaisy in general ♡

[mitzimay]

reprieve is hard sought after nowadays ; throats parched for sweet honey, so eager for something to soothe addled minds that they’ll settle for hooch awash with mississippi dregs. least they used to, back before empires formed underground and their illicit beverages kept improving, always the next real mccoy, and the well-to-dos never had empty pockets. with stiff competition, there’s not much of a living she can wrangle together outta inexperienced gangsters and bad drinks, leaving a lady in quite the predicament -- dirty handed as a chill licks up fuzzy spine, either blown here from missouri’s beauty mark or whatever shame she’s still got left inside. wonders how he did this often, using, weepy emeralds sneaking glances at photo covered walls like one faded face will answer private thoughts. oh hell, and what would there be to say? what hasn’t she heard? turns cheek at each and every ‘necessary’, listens to an uneasy stomach play broken song whenever familiar accusation shoots her way, because it’s a man’s world and they’re playing games she’s kept away from. can never move her pawns … her vestiges just right, and even now there’s no sure footing, dough be damned. it’s a security that’s temporary when their routes still aren’t guaranteed or flourishing, when lackadaisy’s unique cave interior and decor is still an unholy mess, when her saxophone player is bitter eyed and when not a single cent wasn’t swiped from sable, stone and quarry. and there it is, another wave of saltwater dashed into chest wounds, mired in street scuffle scrapes ; can’t keep her paws steady when retired to her pitiful apartment room, haphazard dress wilting when creaky door closed behind her, salaries delivered so men could start working away at their chores. finds ignoring her own heart rather fruitless when she’s all alone with nobody’s hand to hold besides memories of one -- recounts fingers bent and blistered from a life slaving away on instruments, big claws which spent more hours stuffed in pockets or removing teeth than soberly slipped between softer paws, and hands tinted a tender brown that liked the small of her back just a tad too much. breath rattles when remembering how not a single one of them is here anymore, won’t ever be again in two particular cases. atlas ( bless his soul, really, when he’s hell bound ) is rolling inside pine casket deep below and then there’s … wick. head bows before small vanity mirror, slowly removing silk shawl, not once allowing such luxurious fabric to touch unsavory floor. takes great care of what wardrobe she’s hoarded since hocking everything else for property payments, unable to part with more than just pearl and jewel necklace after all. mrs atlas may must look the part : speakeasy owner, business-woman, mephistopheles, if that is what jaded endearment he pinned upon her imaginary lapel. that man is as extraordinarily lily hearted as he may be kind, mitzi found during their day out, tiresome rejection painted across a mouth she’s snuggled, always verging forward despite wick’s reluctance to part with her curves. had known he was cautious ( respectable types always are ) but she never thought him sleazy.

still doesn’t, the evening’s events would be kinder to her if she could believe his intention was repugnant since their bewildered start / sees him before her in candlelight glow, eyes youthful and cheeks pinched while he chattered, cave walls stuck on a barbed tongue that retains its charm / sapphires sparkling when he cradled her paw in his, seeping manners as he gave his apologies, flattening ears bestowing earnest shame / how lovely he was then, how heartening he kept being, and perhaps it was only fair that every wellspring had its bottom / is becoming acquainted with generosity and it’s limiting ends these days, could even start a miserable list if her heart so desired.

well, mitzi won’t lose sleep dwelling on what’s been done, or what little she’s lost along her way. wick’s … sweet, too soft furred for her paws -- her taste, because while chert material coats his mouth, there are only bittersweet rings around hers. graveyard dirt painted on drooping lips and lashes clumpy with shrapnel, still picking white-gray clumps from between claws she ought to trim sometime, fuss them up something real fancy. once the boys reclaim a few old routes, and when money makes back more than what she’ll throw it away for, that will be one of many touch-ups to be done in time. then there’s new three piece suits that simply must get tailored up if her band’s gonna play for crowds again. and how could she ever forget their instruments? finds herself listless over what used to be fun shopping, list too long and expenses still too tight for it to elicit anything except a wince ; downturned expression sliding further down into ditches, all while sullenly closing wardrobe doors, lackadaisy gown sealed behind chipping wood and lingering hands. it’s rib tickling how sad even that tiny act is, webs thickening as fingers spread wide open, cautiously filling extra space where engraved symbols sat. forehead thumping against beloved club card sign that once protruded so confidently, the oak there burned for artistic effect -- no thick paint that’d fade in years used, although she was close friends with vibrant colors. held mauves over blacks, colors you could pick right off georgia skies, glimmers of things panned from miss mississippi, surface ripples skinmed and slathered elsewhere, jewel reminers. huffs dour laugh, some squashed broken melody, because monochrome was forever cheaper, despite how it never truly stayed. what a tragedy, or a comedic tale, if peeping toms were on the outside looking in. fine line drawn by two categories : did it happen to me, or someone else? takes one second she can’t spare before finally electing there’s more ladylike ways to privately bemoan her loss of shame and uptake in lawbreaking, one paw reaching up to settle mussed hair, the other poised around mitzi’s picked up cigarette holder. legs glide bare feet ( heels carelessly kicked off when stuffed inside her quarters ) across carpet until upon ajar window, curtains billowing out into muffled darkness by the time she settles in for a smoke. small body bends so she can poke her head out and feel river breeze more openly -- her hurriedly groomed hair sways with city lights, whiskers twitching in rhythm, and she coaxes jade against parted mouth for an inhale, cigarette still barely lit from earlier. ash wisps into daisy embroidered lungs just as much as gray fog pushes into the dull moonlight skies … painted gaze squinting while observing how smoke dances, sprawling out like the young used to eagerly do downstairs. blames that nostalgia for her next few sucks, coaxing chemicals against material she’ll wipe later whenever she cleans again. thinks and pictures nothing while more soot plumes before her, an endless crowd she ain’t seen in some age, and for one moment, mitzi believes her personal gallow has lessened. nasty habit be damned, because how can it be so bad when it lures her into something resembling inner peace? those aristocrats and their dames weren’t enlightened enough to sway her off them, not when their woes could be rubbed off their haughty faces by greenbacks.

and when damsel glances down from her self imposed ivory tower only for harried curls to emerge beneath all her huffing and puffing, she delicately pushes money and all its unearned troubles away once again. oh. already? her heart doesn’t swerve off course while staring down, acutely mapping each girlish fidget, like how she grabs at lavish lapel tight enough to wrinkle, but perhaps it should bring something abhorrent upon her. some kind of feeling which drags nails across worn through body and sends tail bristling, makes spine curve into brief defense. yet mitzi doesn’t budge. she isn’t scared of wick’s business pearl -- why, she couldn’t hurt a fly with arms so thin, poor thing, looking as if she goes unfed every hopeless work night. if mr. sable doesn’t pay enough to feed his staff, then she’s less wounded by his rejection than she’d previously been. ( a joke : if the eyes she was making at her employer were any hint, it’s that she’s well paid or well touched ) “ you’re a long way from home, sweetie. ”         is said in lieu of proper greeting, holder knocked on windowsill so built up ash swindles off orange glow. “ and i’m afraid we aren’t open. unless you’re looking for another kind of house call. ” can’t be hassled into shoving on heels for someone who’s gonna hightail it outta here like some scared kitten. her feet are, after all, still sore and cramped.

lacy thought she knew mr. sable. she knew how they interacted, saw sides of him no other employee did. as much as her friends tease her for being mr. sable's personal coffee fairy ( alongside filling out his tax forms, juggling his finances, ensuring he turns on his headlamps when he drives, and acting as the most functional part of his brain ), she does pride herself at the end of the day for a job well done. and she knows mr. sable appreciates it as well — rolls around each where would i be without miss lacy? in her mind — and in her humble opinion, this means he appreciates her. why else would he allow her to see all his oddities, to be a confidante and a listening ear, to mother him in ways that don't become a young woman in her early twenties? her cheeks flush sometimes thinking of it, how much of her life is taken up by this job, by ... by him. but working alongside someone for so long does grant you a window into their life that no one else has the privilege of having. so lacy was under the impression that she and mr. sable were close enough that she could say she knows him well.

until she showed up.

short, curvy, with a thick down-south drawl. certainly doesn't seem educated, nor would she need to be if she's in the line of work she says she's in. when mr. sable said he had agreed to meet with someone for last-minute plans, she hadn't imagined it would have been ... taking a woman out on the lake, taking her to the cellar, letting her sit in his lap. all while she sat in his house, stewing in an anger she couldn't name and a humiliation to which she couldn't admit.

so this is mr. sable's type of woman. stout with pouty lips, smelling of bad habits. forward. her friends all quirked eyebrows when she complained — what? she'd shot back, she threatened me with dismemberment! who would like the kind of woman that does that? — but even her brief venting hadn't alleviated the hornet's nest buzzing in her head and chest. she has a strict no-losing-sleep-over-work policy that rarely works out for her in the physical sense, as mr. sable seems to think of her as a twenty-four hour service, but she's gotten remarkably good at not losing sleep in the mental sense. allowing herself to leave work at the office and have a few hours to herself before bed. yet, after seeing her — fluffy tail, large eyes, bare feet, sprawled in mr. sable's lap, especially after lacy knew she'd done something sneaky, rifling through her things — she's finding herself tossing and turning. haunted by the image of her. how could mr. sable ever trust one of those rum-runners? lacy herself doesn't touch illegal substances, doesn't even smoke! mr. sable wouldn't end up in any financial troubles if he only listened to her advice, and ...

lacy drags a paw down her face with a groan and tries to flip her pillow to the cold side. she doesn't know what compels her to nick one of the extra club pins from mr. sable's desk. what compels her to take a trip to the little daisy cafe. she stands outside of the building, unsure of herself. she can't possibly be thinking of entering one of these illegal businesses. and what would she even say? i know you were the one who stole from mr. sable! as if that trollop hasn't already spent it all out on her ridiculous ... dismembering ...

nose twitches as she registers the scent of cigarette smoke. it's coming from above her, and she makes the mistake of glancing up. and there she is, mitzi may, smoking at her window without a care in the world. she can't help but screw her face up in contempt and anger, boiling emotions clear as day on her face. but before lacy can do anything, those green eyes are on her.

she does the only thing she can think to: wrench her stare away and cover up her club pin with a paw clutching her lapel.

@mitzimay

[mitzimay]

btw until i write up mitzi’s hazbin verse here’s the most simplistic synopsis :

fallen angel ( went to heaven as a true fluke, and quickly decided to get sent to hell in search of her late husband who, obviously, wasn’t there ) who’s slowly built a now ancient relic of a speakeasy somewhere within the pride ring. is a cat demon! either co-owns her business with mimzy, or is simply the speakeasy mimzy’s the most entangled with … and they are girl best friends <3

[mitzimay]

Lackadaisy RP Masterlist!

Reblog this post and add in the tags

your URL

if you’re a single muse or a multimuse

if they're canon or an OC

your muse’s name

EXAMPLE: scrunklyrpblog, single muse, animal crossing verse, Scrunkly the Mighty

to be added in the list!

NOTE: if you have a multimuse blog, write as many muses as you have; if you’d like, feel free to give your muse a “title” to describe them!

Characters in alphabetical order can be found HERE

[mitzimay]

featuring @wicksable , how about a toast to good tidings and new prospects? p.s bring some friends . ( © )

[mitzimay]

❥     𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒    [   𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂    ]   .

headcanon prompts with questions based on plants   &   what they represent in flower language .  happy roleplaying !!  ♡

abatina :   is there anything in life your muse has changed their mind about over time   (   due to becoming more educated on the topic ,   certain experiences  ,   etc .   ) ,    or that they   would   change their mind about under certain circumstances ?  

acanthus :   is your muse deceptive ,   or willing to lie or deceive to achieve certain means ?   why or why not ?   

aloe :   how does your muse handle grief ?

amaryllis :   what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in ?   how do they express that pride ?   

anemone :   how does your muse view the world ;   as a cruel   &   unforgiving place ,   a land full of wonders ,   or something in - between ?  where does that world view come from   (   what experiences ,   life lessons ,   etc .   ) ?  

angelica :   where does your muse draw inspiration in life ?   what motivates them ?

apple blossom :   how does your muse go about expressing or not expressing their sexuality ?  

bachelor’s button :   does your muse actively seek romantic companionship ,   or cherish the liberties of being single ? 

basil :   does your muse have a love - hate relationship with anyone or anything ?

bay tree :   does your muse seek glory   &   accolades ,   or do they favour a simpler ,   more personal life ?  

begonia :   how cautious is your muse ?   are they prone to noticing red flags ,   or paranoid to the point of untrusting most everyone ?   why or why not ?  

belladonna :   how does your muse respond to silence ?   do they take comfort in soundlessness ,   or seek to fill the void with noise ?   

bluebell :   does your muse learn from their past ,   or are they prone to repeating the same mistakes ?  

carnation :   what is your muse’s relationship with their gender ?   how do they express or not express this relationship ?  

chamomile :   what is your muse likely to take away from a painful experience ?   are they one to be haunted by adversity ,   or to use what they’ve gone through to become stronger ?  

chrysanthemum :   how does your muse express romantic love ?  how do they feel about love as a concept ?  

daffodil :   is your muse one to be loyal in relationships ,   or are they likely to quickly move from one bond to another ?

daisy :   did your muse ever feel as though their innocence had been lost ?   what moment in their life could be described as the end of their innocence ?  

edelweiss :   what was the bravest moment in your muse’s life ?  are they known to be courageous from then on ?  

fern :   does your muse believe in magic or cosmic forces ,   or are they more likely to think their life is ultimately a matter of their own control ?  

forget - me - not :   has your muse ever forgotten something that is or was important to them ?   are they afraid of forgetting things like that ?  

gardenia :   is your muse one to confess romantic feelings early on ,   or to conceal them for long periods of time ?  

gladiolus :   describe a moment from your muse’s life that they will never forget .

goldenrod :   does your muse believe in luck or fortune ?  why or why not ?   where do they believe these things come from ?  

heliotrope :   does your muse believe in soulmates ?

hibiscus :   how does your muse view the gentler ,   daintier things in life ?   as things worth preserving   &   caring for ,   or things only bound to wither   &   disappear ?  

holly :   how strong is your muse’s sense of intuition ?  are they aware of it ?   do they ever fear that it is only paranoia ?  

hollyhock :   how strong is your muse’s sense of ambition ?  what’s something they strive for in life ?  

hyacinth :   is your muse athletic ?   does it come naturally to them ,   or have they had to work for their physique and/or skill ?  

hydrangea :   how much does your muse value communication in their relationships with others ?  are they prone to being misunderstood ?

iris :   if your muse could convey one last message to someone they have lost or left behind ,   what would it be ?  

ivy :   what are your muse’s views on marriage ?   do they believe it is something strictly for love ,   or an institution rooted in business   &   social benefits ?   do they desire or have they desired to be married ?

lavender :   how easy is it to gain your muse’s trust ?  once their trust is broken ,   how might one go about mending it ?  

lilac :   what was your muse’s childhood like ?   how has their upbringing affected them as they’ve aged ? 

lily :   how does your muse view their mother ?  

lotus :   has your muse ever felt as though they’ve been reborn ?  have they ever desired the feeling of a fresh start ,   or a better understanding of themself and/or the world around them ?  

magnolia :   describe your muse’s relationship with nature   &   the natural world .  

marigold :   is your muse prone to jealousy ?  how might they handle envious feelings ?  

mint :   does your muse view themself as virtuous   &   moral ?  what do these words mean to them ?

nasturtium :   describe your muse’s relationship with their birthplace ,   or homeland .  

oak :   who would your muse consider the strongest person they know ?  

pansy :   does your muse often reflect on their own actions ?   do they ever think a lot about the past ,   and what they could have done differently ?

parsley :   describe a holiday your muse enjoys ,   and why they enjoy it .

peony :   what would a   ‘  happy life  ’   look like in your muse’s eyes ?

poppy :   what comforts your muse ?

rhododendron :   is your muse receptive to warnings   &   advice given by others ?

rose :   how much does your muse value other people ?   do they wish to have many friends ,   lovers ,   and/or associates ?   are they an easy person to love ?

sage :   what is your muse’s legacy ?   what do they want to be remembered for   &   what might they actually be remembered for ?  

salvia :   is your muse possessive over people or things that matter a lot to them ?  how do they express that possessiveness ,   or lack thereof ? 

snapdragon :   is your muse merciful ?  why or why not ?

southernwood :   how seriously does your muse take themself ?   do they prefer a solemn   &   intellectual atmosphere or do they delight in jokes   &   banter ?  

sunflower :   what brings your muse the most joy in life ?  

tulip :   how does your muse view people in general ?  

violet :   how does your muse respond to betrayal ?

willow :   how does your muse handle sadness   &   depression ?

zinnia :   how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ?   has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?

[mitzimay]

devestating how far mitzi is from home and the sleepy eyed girl she used to be, her own real name, her family … and i don’t think her life before was glamorous or even kind to her particularly, but it was a life that was entirely her own, one she’s now long abandoned & one she has to look back at and be glad she did.

[mitzimay]

hate the implications made by fans that lacy is the only person who indulges in wick’s rock related interests, as if mitzi isn’t right there!!! people get really caught up on her using wick to an extent, something she only does during an extreme time in her life, which makes fans think she’s always been using him when that’s clearly and logically false lol. while she’s down on her luck now ( poor, in debt, lonely, still grieving a big loss, etc ) she wasn’t always like this, and during most of their friendship she was just as well off as he was! she was protected, well fed, could do anything she wished no matter how illegal, and unlike most girls she didn’t have to worry about unwanted advances from men, not when her husband was atlas may. truly, she had no reason to use wick before 1926! and i find it hard to believe that he would carry such a bright torch for her if she was constantly dismissive of him, you know? and seeing how fond and interested she was when she saw wick in the paper doing well ( which was an opportunity, yes, but can she not be happy for him genuinely too? ) she totally humored him about his rock fixation. anyway. this is rambly and everywhere and i’ll delete later but phew whee. mitzi does ( & did ) care for wick prior to when his wealth became integral, and i think it’s important to remember that.

[mitzimay]

# mitzimay ... 𝒾 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇. ( ... ) exploring themes of widowhood, infamy, & a girl in a man’s world. independent portrayal of 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐙𝐈 𝐌𝐀𝐘 from lackadaisy, largely headcanon based.

WELCOMING my angel of an investor @wicksable , ( carrd + sideblog )

one. general rp etiquette applies : don’t godmod, don’t be rude, don’t force ship, respect that i’m a human outside this blog, etc etc!

two. my activity here will be very slow, especially throughout august! replies and messages may take a while due to that and the plethora of mental health issues i deal with, so please be patient. i promise i’m never ignoring anyone on purpose, i just take more time than most rpers do.

three. on a similiar note, ooc and meta posts will be seen on here plenty! i have the most fun with answering character questions and comprising analysis pieces -- they’re also quicker for me than writing is, so if you dislike that, either block the tag or don’t follow. no hard feelings!

four. my portrayal will follow the comics, with elements of the animated episodes thrown in. naturally, i’ll also flesh mitzi out with my own headcanons and interpretation of events! this is code for : please don’t come here to argue with me about her character. we can chat about mitzi out of a shared love for her any day, but i don’t want to be told i’m wrong for how i view her character … this is all in good fun! so please think twice before sending any hate, because it’ll either be deleted or posted only to be ridiculed.

five. while i love shipping, mitzi is not easy to ship with in a traditional sense. she is currently obsessed with her dead husband and isn’t in the appropriate head space to have a healthy relationship with anyone. we can still discuss shipping for her! but be aware that it won’t be an easy dynamic.

six. i do not care for callout culture and i won’t participate in it unless it’s genuinely a serious matter. i’m unlikely to follow back if you rb callouts often as well. it’s nothing personal, that sort of stuff just tires me when it’s clogging the dash.