azmarie-theon - Tumblr blog

[azmarie-theon]

fabiancbishop‌:

Her hand was noticed to be on the dark leather of the briefcase–hard to miss when Fabian’s own hand was still on the handle. For a moment, the two of them were moving in opposite directions with it, battling against each other in the most blase manner. Azmarie closing it, while Fabian tried to keep it open. The look of confusion was rife on his face as he looked at her.

“I’m attempting to aid you, but you’re putting too much pressure on–”

His eyes narrowed at her as he was cut off a second time by her questioning, and then it was the questions themselves that only furthered his viewpoint. Fabian yanked his briefcase away in some minimal win he had to claim for himself, moving it carefully to the empty chair besides the table.

“The profanity was unnecessary,” he commented before he straightened himself, eyes on her once more. “My name is Fabian C. Bishop. I am Prometheus Productions’ Contract Liaison.” His hand outstretched, offering it to her to shake before his brows knitted once more, but this time it was not out of annoyance. “Have we possibly met before in passing? Your appearance is rather familiar.”

She bit the side of her cheek, eyeing the hand put forward before meeting his. She paused, pondering his question, and forced herself to hard swallow the air. HIs question caused internal tension, a moment in which butterflies in the pit of her stomach flew free. She cautioned her aggression and reverted to silence. 

 She was nervous - had they crossed paths in the past? If they had, it would be when she had work - work as an actress. Such a time had occupied a heavy shadow in the corner of her mind, designated to memories she did not wish to awake. He might have worked with various directors that declined her work during her time of strife, advised them to revoke her roles, or whispered in their ears not to even offer her a contract at all. Whether he played a role in her past or not, this question motioned an unsettling feeling and caused her to conclude all together that she did not trust him nor anyone in his line of work.

She extended her hand and met his, shaking his hand and holding it a moment longer than she should have. “If we had met, Mr. Bishop, I’d think you’d remember. I like to think I’m...unforgettable.” 

Her nerves rattled still, despite her attempts to keep calm. She was met with dissonance; she wanted to talk to him more to pry what he knew but at the same time, did not. 

She looked over his shoulder and back at him. “He’s over there, in the corner next to the blonde, in that ugly maroon shirt.” She paused, halting her breath. “Mr. Bishop, I..um. I’m Azmarie, I work as an acting coach here. I apologize if I...hm - ah. I don’t mean to pry but how long have you been a contract liason?”

[azmarie-theon]

ooc

i dont like scarlett johanneson 

[azmarie-theon]

Azmarie was walking towards the director, organizing her thoughts. She was speaking lowly to herself in an almost whisper, preparing what she was going to say and careful with her words. As she turned the corner, she jumped and mustered in a sharp inhale, closing her eyes in surprise.

“Are you trying to make me shit myself? -my God. That’s not-” She sighed, letting out a little laugh to her own panic.“...Funny. You’re lucky I’m not a screamer.”

Sloane stopped behind a corner and waited. They could hear the faint tapping of shoes from around the corner getting louder bit by bit. They smiled. It had to be Cayla, a writing assistant whom Sloane had befriended through Hanna – they’ve been waiting all day to get a good scare in. And when, from their periphery, they caught the sight of someone emerging from behind the corner, they jumped out, landed right in front of the other, and shouted “BOO!”, not even realizing that it could have been someone else until the deed was done.

[azmarie-theon]

fabiancbishop‌:

She had said something, bu Fabian couldn’t quite parse the words. They were muttered, of course, meant not to be heard, but that could never stop his pursuit for the truth. “My apologies”–even though it should be yours–“but I wasn’t able to–”

She cut him off, lighting into him. First, it was his family, and now her; why did he attract the mentally ill? “Queen of Sheba?” he repeated with disbelief, disbelief that the words were even coming out of his mouth as his eyes scrupulously looked over her. “Are you affiliated with Ethiopia in some manner?”

He didn’t like to be ordered. That was not how things were supposed to work. And yet, there he was, putting his briefcase up on the nearest table and opening it with an automatic discipline before the amount of annoyance hit him. “You have failed to introduce yourself,” he stated. “How is it possible to review a contract when there is no information to go by? What is your name or your contract identification number?”

Azmarie stifled a satisfied chuckle and tried to keep her composure. Her eyes ventured past the man and wandered to see if she had caught the attention of any onlookers. If this had been a prank, she would’ve expected someone to show an interest or display some sort of hint that. But there was nothing - the man was completely serious and in this moment, it concerned her.

She walked towards the table and placed her hand on the opened briefcase, slowly pressing down to close it. 

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing?”

[azmarie-theon]

The sound of the doorbell struck Azmarie with surprise, causing her to jump from her seat on the couch. She lowered the TV volume with her remote control, her eyes wandering the room for the clock to instruct her of the time. It was late, no doubt, and Azmarie had not been expecting anyone to show up to her house - unless it was a casual hook up prearranged by drunk texts. But tonight, she was sober and taking advantage of the last few waking hours before going to bed. 

She opened the door as much as the chain on the door would allow. “Henri?” His name came out slowly and in disbelief. She looked as she thought; her brows furrowed, trying to comprehend how Henri knew where she had lived  and why he was here. 

“Wha- um.” She paused, looking once more at Henri before peering back into her living room. “Fuck, okay. Alright.” She closed the door - a slam, really and  unclasped the chain locked. She opened the door, moving aside to allow him room to walk in. She crossed her arms and stood firmly. She hadn’t invited him in to sit or demonstrate any hospitality that one would to a co-worker at such times - she didn’t want him comfortable. She was direct, confused, and caught off guard. It was hard for Azmarie not to feel offended. It would be one thing if Henri had discussed this at work but to come to her home, it meant she had done something terribly wrong or he sought something else. 

“What the hell, Henri. Does the way I do my job piss you off?.”

@azmarie-theon

showing up at azmarie theon’s house in the middle of the night, announced && unwelcome, was unprofessional–to say the least. other things it could be called included stalkerish, creepy, and aggressive. all words that had been used to describe henri at some point or another during his career with prometheus. he rang the doorbell, azmarie appearing minutes later with a confused expression on her face. “we need to talk about how you’ve been handling one of my clients.” henri declared, giving no explanation for how he had known where she lived. “may i come inside?” though he was asking permission, it was clear he didn’t really think he needed it. he was just being polite–something that azmarie should be thankful for, while it lasted. 

[azmarie-theon]

And she says “Don’t worry baby” Don’t worry baby Don’t worry baby Everything will turn out alright

[azmarie-theon]

It was a rare moment to escape the stream of movement at the studio. Time could be manipulated but never in favour of the individual; either numerically stretched between the seconds or pushed in between to feel there wasn’t enough. Azmarie had finished her last acting appointment and she needed air; a walk to watch the world or feel apart of it. 

She exited the studio and began to stroll, venturing farther than intended. The place she found herself in was murk and ominous. Despite the trees that stood bare, the dead grass, and emptiness that adorned the site, the space around felt comforting. She was alone - for the most part.

A few metres away, she observed a man wandering the premise of a house that had befallen to age. She had heard rumours about it from a real estate agent on a drive by from a location when home-scouting a few years ago. The story had caused her to shiver; once in the car, the other now.

 Azmarie stopped in her steps and when the stranger could be seen no more, took out a cigarette to be lit. Her thumb wrestled for a spark and upon success of lighting it, took a deep drag. Her focus was still on the man, who walked back and forth curiously. She hesitated on whether she should approach but dropped her cigarette and allowed curiosity to motion her forward. As she drew closer, she yelled to the man.

“Hey...HEY. What’re you doing here? ...No. NO! Stop.” 

His face was recognizable, someone she had crossed by in the studio but never spoken to. She stood next to him, facing the house.

“Are you crazy? This house has some bad juju, you’re going to disturb it!”

Open Starter | anyone

Even though Micah was in the middle of a big project, probably his biggest to date, he was still thinking about his next one. His mind worked by doing a million things at once, confusing the shit out of him, and then suddenly everything would come together when it counted. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked for him so he was alright with it. Right now, he was scouting out locations, mostly for inspiration, but he could also suggest something to the set people if he found something he really liked. He was wandering around the outside of an abandoned house, trying not to step on anything rusty as he circled the place, looking for a way in. Sure it would be trespassing but he didn’t want to wait for someone to let him in legally. He wondered if anyone else was around, pausing and listening for footsteps, rustling or voices.

[azmarie-theon]

Penélope Cruz (1999)

[azmarie-theon]

Azmarie walked towards the office, her head bowed down. Her mind was pacing and her heart pounding - she was tense and indecisive. 

She had stumbled across Magnus’ office by mistake a few days after she had been hired and on her way to an acting appointment. She had seen the plaque by his office, taking a moment to run her fingers on the letters and peak through the window to catch a glimpse of the familiar face. There he had been, by his desk, writing. She had felt heart drop to the pits of her stomach and moved quickly before he could look up - before he could recognize her.  

The same feeling began to grow as she etched closer to his office. She could walk away, like she had done before but she would brave this. To see he was here incited panic and excitement. She needed him and in sorts, wanted him. Not in a way driven by the heart but she had yearned for familiarity. She felt isolated. Others had forged relationships and shared their warmth and she had received none. She was a stranger.

But she did not seek Magnus to discuss her inability to champion herself amongst peers. Far greater circumstances had burdened weights in her mind. Whether she liked it or not, Magnus knew her and this bred comfort. He could help as he had done before.

She took a deep breath and placed her hand on the doorknob. 1...2...2...3 - she closed her eyes and slowly pulled the handle forward. There she was, greeted by the sound of his voice that immediately warranted Azmarie to squeeze her eyes harder. She bit down on her teeth and exhaled sharply through her nose. She allowed her face to relax as she nodded, and opened her eyes to observe the room; there was a full bookcase, the standard desk and chairs, artefacts and mementos that were as unique as the man, and more certifications and awards that hung on the wall than she had remembered.

She walked towards the empty chair, unable to overcome the feelings of shyness. She let out a nervous laugh and clutched the arms of the chair as she sat down. “I can see you’ve gotten comfortable here.” Her eyes observed his face that had now bore age. He was different and yet, the same. The solemn lines on his face complimented him and sought to add character. She had imagined him to age faster than how he actually looked, as most would in his line of work. She had wondered what he thought of her. 

“It’s been a um...been a while.” She looked down in her lap for a moment, picking at her nails before looking at him again. “You’ve gotten old.”

The clock was ticking its monotonous tune and Magnus couldn’t peel his absent gaze away from it. For someone whose schedule usually was quite tight, he for sure was at the verge of dying of boredom way too often. Even when there was someone at his office, often he would just sit back, drill his inattentive eyes into the delinquent and keep himself from externalizing any of those weary sighs. But every now and then he would successfully chance upon an individual with more absorbing stories to tell. Although he was the type to leave his work in this very room, sometimes he would catch himself thinking back to such noteworthy anecdotes particular patients had shared with him.

He leaned back in the leather armchair and crossed his legs, his hands toying with the pen (in instances where his ennui was reaching exceptional heights, he would click it to discreetly notify the other person to keep whatever they still had to say really brief). When he heard the door crack open, Magnus finally looked away from the clock to now focus on the person coming in. “Well, look who’s here,” his lips curled into a reserved smile, or rather an imitation of one, and he gestured to the spare seat across from him. “Please, make yourself at home.”

[azmarie-theon]

Ooc

ah so I’ve been having weird health problems I’ve been neglecting.I’ve been fainting but it’s usually been at home and since I’m alone most of the day, no one knew. I’ve also been super busy at work since my supervisor and co supervisor have declared a Cold War on each other and ammunition is in the form of writing papers for publication. I can’t take sides since I need them both so I’m their weapon of choice. They know about my health problems but don’t really care.

I was walking up the stairs after a lecture with a student and long story short, I fainted and hit my head on the cement floor. Nothing happened, just blood but I woke up a few moments later and told the student not to call for help. I got home and I fainted in front of my parents. They freaked. Doctor just said it was a symptom of having low blood pressure and just exhaustion but now I got to see a neurologist. Long story short, I might be long for my responses - I’m not ignoring responses I promise

[azmarie-theon]

swooncheyenne‌:

Lately, Cheyenne had taken to ducking outside to get away from all of the noise when she wasn’t needed on set. Lately everything felt like it was just getting to be too much. More and more she found herself wanting to go back in time to when she’d been blissfully unaware of Prometheus’s dark side. That’s where she was hiding when a voice snuck up on her. She turned, smile finding its way back to her lips. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t actually smoke I just came out here for a moment of peace. Filming has been insane today.” She turned around to lean back against the chest-high wall. “I wish I could so I had one to offer but all I’ve got is my company.” 

Azmarie was unimpressed and despite her inclination to briefly gesture it had been all through, she looked exactly what she thought - disappointed. She took a deep sigh and nodded. She looked back at the woman indecisively, unsure if she was truly kosher or would pull out a cigarette playfully, as if it a joke to tempt some patience. She briefly waited, expecting the latter but received nothing. 

“Alright, cool. Company.” She kissed her teeth softly. “Yeah, no it’s a bad habit. It’s good you don’t smoke. So uh-what’re you working on - you behind the scenes or the dame on the screen?” 

[azmarie-theon]

jcunos‌:

Back home in Alabama, Juno used to sneak out onto the balcony and watch the sunrise, marvelling at the peacefulness of the world, the steadily lightening rooftops and the fields beyond. When he moved out, it had been from the open window of his flat; if there was anything that compounded the sense of homesickness and uselessness he felt, especially after the accident, it was the absence of that fire-licked sky, swirling with the fresh colours of morning. Or maybe it was the fact that he never had the energy any more to get up at the crack of dawn and see what a Hollywood sunrise.

Somehow, that homesick pang had grown stronger, until Juno had eventually dragged himself out of bed way too early and sat on the sidewalk, blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, to watch the sunrise. The cigarette between his fingers was half just a habit and half an effort to stay awake; he hardly paid it much real attention until the woman asked.

“Huh? Yeah, sure.” He pulled the pack out of his pocket and offered her one, wondering if she needed a light as well. 

“Thank you, uh.”

 She extended her hand, reaching for the cigarette. Something about the man appeared abstract. Perhaps, Azmarie inferred, she had disfragmented a thought. She felt a morsel of guilt and observed him briefly to verify her conjecture, but she could read nothing. It had been a pet peeve of hers when others felt the requisite to interrupt her smoke. She valued the time as an intimate moment to be attuned with thoughts - to organize and ponder what plagued her mind. It was the reason she smoked; a cancerous session of mindfulness. She was unsure if it was the same for everyone else but felt it had to be, at the very least, a reason for the habit. 

She moved the cigarette into her lips and reached for the lighter in her pocket and began to spark. She took a drag and then looked back at the stranger. 

“Uh, my bad. I didn’t mean to disturb you. You...okay?”

[azmarie-theon]

She looked at the badge then fluidly, at the man’s face. She could not help but plaster her expression so bluntly on her face. Her brows furrowed and the corner of mouth raised. She took a moment to pry the man with her eyes, and then another moment to contemplate a reaction. He was...strange. The way his presence commanded urgency, his vernacular and obviously, his appearance. She let out a sigh and muttered, “...What a way to start the day.”

Still, she felt this could be enjoyable play, considering the last session she had with an amateur actor. It had been frustrating and she would use this at her expense for humour. Who the hell did this man think he was, she thought.

“Contractual, huh? Well then it’s fate. You and me, us meeting. I’ve been waiting. I was told I would get a 25% raise as outlined in my contract -alongside one of those therapeutic cats, the ones that looked like their faces are just pressed up against a window permanently. What are they called...oh-the persian ones. The studio was supposed to crown me the Queen of Sheba and I’ve received nothing yet. Yeah, no it’s all in my contract. Check, check.” 

Suitcase in tow, gripped by the handle with a firm grasp, Fabian makes his way within the studio. This is unfamiliar territory. It’s his first day within Prometheus Productions as the Contract Liaison, taking the place of the last one before the blood has been bleached off the man’s wall just beneath a bullet. An execrable way to end one’s life, but that has no bearing on Fabian’s workload. In fact, he’s left quite the pile in his lap to attend to.

“I beg your pardon,” he speaks to the nearest person to him, the badge pinned to his chest like a boy scout receiving his first achievement, “but my time is too limited to spend frivolously. Would you happen to locate the director for me? It is of the utmost importance that I see them at once. It has been brought to my attention that there has been a discrepancy between the work that has been accomplished and what adheres to the contractual obligations set by Prometheus Productions.”

[azmarie-theon]

teaganharper‌:

they raised a brow at the stranger’s reponse, taking the unwanted blunt back. teagan let out a small snort, running a hand through their wild hair. "it’s legal here. –mostly, anyway.” teagan took a hit, snapping their fingers to get bacon’s attention. he trotted over to their side, letting them rub behind his ears as he let out soft squeaks. “and the landlord gives me shit but my ex-manager worked out a deal to keep him off my back.” contracts were supposed to get whatever they wanted, the prometheus promise, as it were. it hadn’t been too hard to get the building owner to turn the other eye on the pig–a few extra hundreds a month from prometheus’ wallet, teagan guessed. “so. you always this uptight around strangers or am i getting special treatment?” 

She could feel her cheeks flush crimson and let out an incredulous laugh. The coupled woman and pig evoked a complex heritage of oddities that reminded Azmarie of her space - a stranger not only in these circumstances, but to something larger. She felt she had kept a passive eye on the world going by her window and with years living in the past, her abilities to embrace the eccentricity had decayed. But it was welcoming, different, and she liked it.

She pressed her tongue against her cheek as she contemplated the answer, a smile scantily lurking and then disappearing. “Yeah but I’d say it’s the early morning special brewed freshly with a night of no sleep -you caught me off guard with uh, yeah, the weed-the pig, all of that. It’s so weird like- oh god, I’m doing it again, rambling. Fuck.”

“I’ve seen you around the studio but..um, without the pig. I guess your ex-manager didn’t really extend that contract to work. What is it you do?” She paused.

“Oh, Azmarie” She extended her hand, contemplating in the moment whether the gesture was too formal. She disregarded it - she had already followed through.

[azmarie-theon]

annakapetrova‌:

Annaka was never much of a morning person, but the taste of nicotine danced across her tongue and found its way into her lungs like an old friend helping her through the early hours. Things had recently been rough for the woman, but she was still trying to walk through the world with her head held high so no one knew just how scared she really was. 

She heard the questioning voice, not saying anything but instead pulling the carton of cigarettes out of her jacket pocket and popping one out. “Here.” She said softly, handing it to the other woman before taking a long drag of her own. She looked at exactly who it was that was next to her. “Need a light?”

Azmarie shook her head; the bluntness of the woman’s actions warranted a smile to linger long enough until the cigarette occupied her lips. She slid her hands into pocket and wrestled for a moment to find the lighter. “I’ve got one, uh..somewhe..-here.” She began to spark and parroted a silent prayer for the flame. Successful, she lit and took a drag. 

There was a period of silence between the two. Azmarie watched the smoke that would show itself in short, dramatic eclipse. In normal passing she yearned for a cigarette, not to nourish a craving, but for the confined time it permitted to be attuned with her thoughts. Today, she used it as a distraction to escape her potent ruminations. Her father had called, after seven years, requesting to see her. She could not overcome the feeling of vulnerability - of fear. As his voice echoed the walls in her mind, she was flashed with memories that she painfully wished disappeared into the murky depths, where she had left them. 

“Were you ever afraid of the boogey man, or whatever, when you were little?”

[azmarie-theon]

msjadebellamy‌:

Norah had taken all night. It was perfection or nothing for her director, and in the quest to capture it, the cast had spent the entire evening filming. Jade thrived off of the work, but the lines from her script were now seared into her frontal lobe. She was ready for the much needed departure, just like everyone else long ago was. Like a fisherman that was done fishing, they were cut loose, sent on their way, but the actress lingered just for a moment, trying to unwind from the character she had spent twelve hours in.

She rounded the corner, the scent of burning tobacco tangling in her nose. She was never a smoker. The cons certainly outweighed the pros to her, but that wasn’t what brought her attention towards it. The voice of another, asking for the same, was heard. Jade’s blue eyes swept over to the man, who gave a dismissive shrug. She could have blamed it on her long hours, on Carla who still clung to her mind as if she leapt from the pages to worm inside her, but this was Jade. It was all her as she stepped forward, hand diving into the pants’ pocket of the other to drag out the pack of cigarettes. A hit to the side of his other hand, plopped out one of the sticks into her palm, before she nestled the rest of them back into his pants.

“Do you need a light?” she asked Azmarie, handing it to her.

Azmarie paced forward a few steps and observed the brief interaction between strangers. She could not help but be fixated on the blonde; gamine but feminine, wistful with an undercurrent of trouble. An actress, Azmarie surmised. She shook her head before uttering the words thank you into a depleted whisper. She pressed the cigarette to her lips and reached for the lighter in her pocket. She sparked, watching the flame ebb the paper that transfixed slowly into folds, and inhaled.

“Do you know him?” She motioned with her head, the words and smoke interweaving as they escaped from her mouth. “No one smokes anymore...” She reflected, aware of her habit and the apologetic need to justify her actions. “It’s just a bad habit, like biting your fingernails or small talk. You know? I don’t know. What do you uh - what do you do around here?”

[azmarie-theon]

teaganharper‌:

another day meant another nonstep session of trying to pull jokes from their ass so the world doesn’t realize they’re not actually that funny and decide to kill them. woo! needing a fucking break least their head explode from stress, teagan stepped outside their apartment in pjs. bacon, their mini pig, sniffed around and walked without a leash. he never went far–lazy little shit. sitting on the curb, teagan puffed on a blunt, surprised by the sudden approach of a stranger. “uh–it’s not nicotine, but if you want a hit…go for it.” teagan shrugged, holding out the blunt.

why were they always sharing their weed? they needed to start getting reimbursed for this shit.

Azmarie blinked, her face drawing blank - hoping it didn’t show. She was quiet,  unsure what had taken her back; the pig, who was freely roaming as if it had known with the area almost enough to claim familiarity, or the weed. 

“No, no. I- don’t do that. I thought it was, no. My bad.” Azmarie motioned her hands in the air, stumbling over her words. “It’s too early for this. I can’t process, this. I just...is that your pig? There’s like people around. Don’t people complain about...this and uh, the weed? Not that I care, I mean - fuck, it’s early. I’m sorry.”