jesse-vaudry

[jesse-vaudry]

Describe my muse horribly!

ex: some weirdo that won't stop yapping

[jesse-vaudry]

1-800-how’s my portrayal?

This mun is now accepting feedback! 

Please remember there’s a difference between hate, constructive criticism, and giving praise because you don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings.

[jesse-vaudry]

Immediately, his expression turned sympathetic, like he genuinely felt awful for messing up her call and the current chance of her talking to her friend. "Er, right. Do you want one? A coffee, I mean. It's the least I can do, what with me being a klutz." He waved a hand awkwardly towards the direction of the shop. At least, Jesse was pretty sure that was the one Betty was talking about.

Betty:

"No, I think it will be fine when it dries. He just won't call back. But-- Hey, do you have everything?" she pushed through the snow, gloveless, to make sure he didn't miss any pens or lose anything else. Mostly, she had learned long ago that the cold calmed her.

"Um, yeah, I think so." Jesse shoved his folders and pens back into his bag, his own hands already trembling from shoving them into the snow. He'd yet to adapt to these New York winters and he doubted he'd ever enjoy them if he did. "I'm sorry about interrupting your call. Ah, I'm Jesse." His smile was polite, if a bit earnest, and still almost overwhelmingly apologetic.

[jesse-vaudry]

Jesse considered that for a moment, chewing on his lip. He didn't have a lot of options here. How much could he say, though, and not completely reveal that he was working for Xavier? There was also the rather pressing matter of having no clue who she was. So he shrugged as best he could, though his joints protested the movement. He bit back a grimace. "Bit of both, I think." Damn, he really should have picked a better informant.

"Jean-Luc?" As best he could, Jesse raised his head from the floor to peer at her. His pupils had gone wide to cope with the lack of light, which didn't help his rather pathetic appearance, bound and curled up on the floor as he was. He shook his head. No heaviness to his limbs or wooziness: he hadn't been drugged, just knocked out it seemed.

He didn't know any Jean-Luc. At least, he was pretty sure he didn't. "What do you mean, 'his dirty work'?" Jesse squinted at the woman perched in the chair across from him. He didn't recognize her either. Good gracious alive, he'd really mucked things up for himself.

[jesse-vaudry]

"Jean-Luc?" As best he could, Jesse raised his head from the floor to peer at her. His pupils had gone wide to cope with the lack of light, which didn't help his rather pathetic appearance, bound and curled up on the floor as he was. He shook his head. No heaviness to his limbs or wooziness: he hadn't been drugged, just knocked out it seemed.

He didn't know any Jean-Luc. At least, he was pretty sure he didn't. "What do you mean, 'his dirty work'?" Jesse squinted at the woman perched in the chair across from him. He didn't recognize her either. Good gracious alive, he'd really mucked things up for himself.

[Planned starter; @auroradicit ]

The first thing Jesse knew was that his head hurt. The second, more important thing he knew, was that he'd boggled the mission and gotten caught. The process had been the same as always: the Professor told him about something that needed investigating and Jesse went there to bring back whatever info he could. This time, he'd been sent to New Orleans, assigned to investigate a local branch of the Friends of Humanity. Looking at the supposed hideout, Jesse had been dubious.

The house was massive, the live oaks out front draped with Spanish moss and the streetlights faintly gleaming off the upper gallery's plastered columns. Either the FoH had a wealthy patron or they'd gotten particularly gaudy in their styling. Now, Jesse was pretty sure his informant had told him the wrong house. Weakly, he raised his head, taking stock of the situation. He'd been tied up of course, but he couldn't feel any inhibitor collar when he rolled his neck. Someone had taken his communicator and wallet. And his visor. This wasn't a great assessment so far.

From his squinting into the dim light, the room was decidedly residential, the French doors shut against the distant sounds of traffic. If he could slip his restraints, he could easily make a break for it off the balcony. Then he was aware of a new third thing. Someone was watching him. Was this some sort of test? "Um, hello?" His voice cracked from disuse and broke on the greeting. "I can tell you're there."

[jesse-vaudry]

Betty:

"No, I think it will be fine when it dries. He just won't call back. But-- Hey, do you have everything?" she pushed through the snow, gloveless, to make sure he didn't miss any pens or lose anything else. Mostly, she had learned long ago that the cold calmed her.

"Um, yeah, I think so." Jesse shoved his folders and pens back into his bag, his own hands already trembling from shoving them into the snow. He'd yet to adapt to these New York winters and he doubted he'd ever enjoy them if he did. "I'm sorry about interrupting your call. Ah, I'm Jesse." His smile was polite, if a bit earnest, and still almost overwhelmingly apologetic.

"I can't afford to let that pass." [Planned starter; @bettymybanner, from 'The Stranger' album lyric prompts] It would've been a nice enough day in New York, if it weren't for the phone call Jesse found himself answering. The sun had melted some of the snowdrifts in the street, and while the ensuing grey mush of half-formed ice was unattractive, the warmth was well welcome. He'd been in the middle of getting supplies for his class together when his father asked to call. The conversation had, yet again, shifted to Jesse's choice of career. "Yeah, I--No, I've got it figured out. It's not so bad up here." Resisting the urge to sigh, Jesse lifted his tote bag higher on his shoulder to weave around the other pedestrians on the sidewalk. "This is a good opportunity for me. I can't afford to let it pass. You remember what happened at the museum--" His words were cut off as he slammed into someone. The tote slipped from his shoulder to spill its contents on the pavement. So engrossed in his conversation, he hadn't been watching where he was going. "Aw, son of a biscuit! Dad, I'll call you back." Ignoring the supplies now sitting in the melting snow, his face twisted into an apologetic grimace. "I'm so sorry about that, I didn't bop you too hard, did I?"

Betty was on the phone as well, hearing Bruce crackle in and out from wherever he totally was, promising he was safe, that he had food and shelter and heat. But she needed more. She needed more than him being safe. She hadn't told him to stop calling, because he did it so rarely, and it was something, but she wasn't sure waiting for calls upset her less than not getting them would.

When the man bumped into her, her phone went clattering to the ground and when she shoved him away to grab it, almost roughly, it had already hang up. "Shit," she said, much louder than she meant to. She closed her eyes and whispered, "shit," again, much quiet. The number was blocked, no way to know it, and her phone was too wet, she couldn't press any buttons if he tried to call back.

But, it was done, nothing worth freaking out now. "Sorry, bit of an overreaction," she let out a little laugh and helped him pick things up. "I'm sure it'll be fine when it dries."

@jesse-vaudry

[jesse-vaudry]

REBLOG TO BE INCLUDED IN A MARVEL ROLEPLAY MASTERLIST

THE LIST CAN BE FOUND [HERE]. PLEASE INCLUDE IN THE TAGS WHAT MUSE/S YOU WRITE. ROLEPLAY BLOGS ONLY.

[jesse-vaudry]

𝓡𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓖𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓼

bold what applies to your muse. italicize if there's potential / it depends. cross if never applies.

Holding hands · buying flowers · cooking · cuddles · writing a poem / song · holding door open · tying shoelaces · sharing a milkshake with two straws · offering their jacket when it's cold · kissing in the rain · publicly confessing love · long walks at the beach · doing the titanic pose on a boat · taking cute pictures in a photo booth · sharing a taxi / Uber · kissing the back of their hand · slow dancing · getting tickets of their favourite artist / sports team /other · introducing them to their parents [but pointedly not doing so is an act of love in and of itself]· lighting candles · flower petals on bed · love letters · star gazing · brushing / doing their hair · picnics · teaching them to play an instrument / sport while gently guiding their hands · compliments · late night drives · taking selfies together · drawing them · self-made gifts · massages · proposing with a family heirloom ring · lending them their favourite book to read · paying for dinner / coffee · mixtapes / playlists · surprise birthday parties · feeding them · handing them keys to their flat · making space in drawer a whole ass extra piece of furniture for their clothes when they stay over · sharing a blanket · couple costumes · tucking a hair strand behind their ear · running after them at the airport / keeping them from leaving [but is it romantic or controlling?] · moving cities to be together · blowing a kiss · breakfast in bed · defending them in a fight (verbally / physically) · joint bubblebaths · dropping the L-bomb ("I love you") · dedicating a song at the karaoke bar to them · wearing their clothes · yawning before putting an arm around them while watching a movie · granting them the last bite (from meal)

Tagged by: @rcguevariant

Tagging: Anyone who'd like to ✨️

[jesse-vaudry]

[Planned starter; @theragincajun ]

Jesse's expression was dubious. It wasn't often he shied away from things, mostly for the sake of his stubborn pride, but he had to raise his eyebrows at this one. Who'd assigned him to the Danger Room with Remy of all people? Jesse wasn't even close to matching his abilities, but here he was. He glanced up at the other Cajun as he fidgeted with the visor sitting atop his hair. To boot, they'd only spoken a few times, and that was if they ran into each other.

Well, nothing like a sparring session to get to know somebody, he supposed. "I'm Jesse, by the way. I couldn't remember if I ever said my name." Ever so faintly, his lips quirked into a polite smile. He wasn't nervous, not really, but he was sure he was going to humiliate himself. What was he supposed to do, play hide and seek to evade Remy's cards?

[jesse-vaudry]

He'd stumbled back a step when she shoved him and he near instinctively put his hands up in a placating gesture. Seeing that she wasn't moving to shove him again, he stooped, haphazardly shaking the melting ice off his folders and pens. "Uh...I'm really sorry about that. Did your phone break? I, um, I can pay for it to be fixed if it broke." Conscious of the fact that this stranger was upset, even if it wasn't quite at him, his tone had taken on a tentative edge.

"I can't afford to let that pass." [Planned starter; @bettymybanner, from 'The Stranger' album lyric prompts] It would've been a nice enough day in New York, if it weren't for the phone call Jesse found himself answering. The sun had melted some of the snowdrifts in the street, and while the ensuing grey mush of half-formed ice was unattractive, the warmth was well welcome. He'd been in the middle of getting supplies for his class together when his father asked to call. The conversation had, yet again, shifted to Jesse's choice of career. "Yeah, I--No, I've got it figured out. It's not so bad up here." Resisting the urge to sigh, Jesse lifted his tote bag higher on his shoulder to weave around the other pedestrians on the sidewalk. "This is a good opportunity for me. I can't afford to let it pass. You remember what happened at the museum--" His words were cut off as he slammed into someone. The tote slipped from his shoulder to spill its contents on the pavement. So engrossed in his conversation, he hadn't been watching where he was going. "Aw, son of a biscuit! Dad, I'll call you back." Ignoring the supplies now sitting in the melting snow, his face twisted into an apologetic grimace. "I'm so sorry about that, I didn't bop you too hard, did I?"

Betty was on the phone as well, hearing Bruce crackle in and out from wherever he totally was, promising he was safe, that he had food and shelter and heat. But she needed more. She needed more than him being safe. She hadn't told him to stop calling, because he did it so rarely, and it was something, but she wasn't sure waiting for calls upset her less than not getting them would.

When the man bumped into her, her phone went clattering to the ground and when she shoved him away to grab it, almost roughly, it had already hang up. "Shit," she said, much louder than she meant to. She closed her eyes and whispered, "shit," again, much quiet. The number was blocked, no way to know it, and her phone was too wet, she couldn't press any buttons if he tried to call back.

But, it was done, nothing worth freaking out now. "Sorry, bit of an overreaction," she let out a little laugh and helped him pick things up. "I'm sure it'll be fine when it dries."

@jesse-vaudry

[jesse-vaudry]

"I can't afford to let it pass."

[Planned starter; @bettymybanner, from 'The Stranger' album lyric prompts]

It would've been a nice enough day in New York, if it weren't for the phone call Jesse found himself answering. The sun had melted some of the snowdrifts in the street, and while the ensuing grey mush of half-formed ice was unattractive, the warmth was well welcome. He'd been in the middle of getting supplies for his class together when his father asked to call. The conversation had, yet again, shifted to Jesse's choice of career. "Yeah, I--No, I've got it figured out. It's not so bad up here."

Resisting the urge to sigh, Jesse lifted his tote bag higher on his shoulder to weave around the other pedestrians on the sidewalk. "This is a good opportunity for me. I can't afford to let it pass. You remember what happened at the museum--" His words were cut off as he slammed into someone. The tote slipped from his shoulder to spill its contents on the pavement. So engrossed in his conversation, he hadn't been watching where he was going. "Aw, son of a biscuit! Dad, I'll call you back." Ignoring the supplies now sitting in the melting snow, his face twisted into an apologetic grimace. "I'm so sorry about that, I didn't bop you too hard, did I?"

[jesse-vaudry]

At her gentle tone, he fidgeted with his fingers, now feeling guilty for lying to her. Jesse nudged the toe of his boot against the carpet, watching the fibers bend and then spring back up to distract himself. It helped a little bit. "I'm okay. I, well...I went drinking with Logan and Remy." Too embarrassed to meet her gaze, he focused on the shifting fibers. If only he'd been quieter sneaking back in.

@jesse-vaudry -> continued (X )

Rogue had only begun to doze off when she heard a thud outside in the hall. After a moment of contemplation in her tired state, the feelings of both concern and curiosity began to take hold, and she got out of bed and cautiously made her way over to her bedroom door. She slowly poked her head out into the hallway, breathing a small sigh of relief when she saw it was only Jesse. "Jesse?! What in the world are ya doin' out here at this hour?"

[jesse-vaudry]

Seeing the uneasiness in his friend's face, Jesse paused, his arm still looped around Remy's shoulders as he tried to keep himself upright after resting in bed for so long. "Hey. You don't have to be helping me. I can figure this one out on my own, promise." He'd never seen the suave X-Man look so...nervous. Yet there was a flicker of something to Remy's eyes almost like hesitation. Jesse started to pull back to stand on his own, biting his tongue to keep from letting slip how much the movement was distressing him.

Ever so faintly, annoyance flickered in Jesse's eyes. His père must be badgering his mama about Jesse's recent life circumstances. "Aw man, vraiment?" He moved to push himself out of bed only for a spasm of agony to cross his face. The force of the bomb had sent him flying and he'd broken several ribs. Jesse crumpled back against the pillows, his voice strained with embarrassment. "Bordel! Remy, could you...can you help me up? I have to stop them before my père gets them both kicked out."

[jesse-vaudry]

[Munday Meme]

•Make a picrew and take the test

• Dumbass:

You're trying your best, you really are, but you just might need to put a little more thought into your thought process. You really shouldn't jump off that many buildings, eat that many strange glowing substances, or trust that many evil witches. But hey, we love you anyways.

Tagged by: @rcguevariant

Tagging: Anyone who'd like to ✨️

[jesse-vaudry]

[ 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 ]

Feel free to like this post for me to reach out to you, or my inbox and DMs are open for plotting :))

[jesse-vaudry]

Desperately missing the era of posts where it's like 'my muse is (insert creature) for the next three asks' bc Jesse as a rougarou (werewolf) has been living in my head rent free. I need to either infodump about him or rp rougarou Jesse,, he's so cool to me y'all have no idea

[jesse-vaudry]

Ever so faintly, annoyance flickered in Jesse's eyes. His père must be badgering his mama about Jesse's recent life circumstances. "Aw man, vraiment?" He moved to push himself out of bed only for a spasm of agony to cross his face. The force of the bomb had sent him flying and he'd broken several ribs. Jesse crumpled back against the pillows, his voice strained with embarrassment. "Bordel! Remy, could you...can you help me up? I have to stop them before my père gets them both kicked out."

Propped up against a small mountain of pillows, Jesse was tucked into bed, a mug of tea cradled in his hands. He gave Remy an exhausted smile and lifted his fingers in a barely there wave. "Tired. Hank gave me pain meds, but it's still hard to sleep." He moved to set his mug on the nightstand, trying and failing to bite back a pained hiss when he had to stretch. "My parents say hi to you? They just left my room." His gaze flicked to the door. Jesse hadn't heard their bickering, but he'd seen by the hard set of his father's jaw that an argument was brewing.