remybourque-blog - Tumblr blog

[remybourque-blog]

qoldencaqe‌:

She watches the scene in front of her unfold with rapt curiosity, as though she couldn’t guess exactly how it would play out. There is a smile on her lips as she catches the other, hardly taken off guard. “Oh, it’s not a problem! They do tend to do that, don’t they?” She stares after the toddler, who didn’t seem to notice the interchange for more than a moment and was now dancing merrily down the street while the adults were left behind to struggle with courtesies over the consequences. She smiled ruefully, certain that perhaps the little tike was onto something. “Heading to the theater? I was headed back myself, we could go that way together.” Anyone who knew Meg was aware that she was never late and this time was no different, she’d already spent half the morning in her pointe shoes by the time she runs into Remy. Getting an early start, however, often means missing breakfast, so once the first of the inevitable arguments broke out, she slipped away to grab bagels for herself and a few of the other girls.

remy only turned her nose up and glared at the parents before suggesting in french that they keep a better eye on their child. turning back to meg in a huff, apologizing again for the ugly representation of remy’s temper.  ‘ yes i was, ’  she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. she was supposed to be there over an hour ago but not only did her alarm not go off  ( okay perhaps she accidentally hit off instead of snooze )  and her bronzer had cracked in its case  ( she accidentally dropped it on her bathroom floor while getting ready ), the heel of one of her favorite shoes decided to break off right as she stepped out the door.  ‘ oh ? that’d be great !  they don’t tend to yell at me if there’s someone else around. ’  remy looped her arm around the other’s, ready to go.

[remybourque-blog]

zhulau‌:

she didn’t often get the opportunity to carelessly enjoy in a beautiful morning, but there were always exceptions for everything. she found herself in one of the busiest streets of paris flooded with foreign souls, but seeing new and unfamiliar features was always somehow thrilling. observing foreigners became a hobby of some sort, for she had the chance to learn a lot about human behavior from each and every soul. but then suddenly a woman fell into her arms, interrupting her long train of thoughts.’’it’s quite all right.’’ she gave her a reassuring smile, but she didn’t quite agree with her own statement.’’of course, i understand. there’s no need to worry. are you all right? hope you didn’t sprain anything.’’

once back on her feet, remy looked up at the statuesque woman in front of her.  ‘ yes, ’  she breathes out, dramatically clutching her chest as she catches her breath.  ‘ i am. ’  remy tentatively rolls the joints in her ankles to test if anything had been hurt, only to shake her head,  ‘ nothing seems to be broken, though i really appreciate your concern. how about you ?  please tell me i didn’t hurt you when i fell because it honestly wouldn’t be the first time. ’ 

[remybourque-blog]

ratsseau‌:

“Lucien,” he answers without formality. He doesn’t offer her a hand to shake or a respectful bow of his head. His voice is low and cold, in a tone that borders on cruelty. Or so he’s been told. It pleases him that she doesn’t know her, despite the slowly growing folder with her name on it tucked away inside a filing cabinet in his apartment. His scribbled notes scrolled through his memory: Remy Bourque, a frequent fixture and employee of de Nuit. Not a cast or crew member, but personal assistant to the owner. Remy Bourque is a mere three degrees of separation from his own employer, not a top priority. But, someone worth keeping an eye on.

Lucien watches the girl as she rights herself, putting her hair back in proper order. His hand brushes against the front of his suit jacket as if to sweep away any dust she may have left behind. The motion, combined with his permanent sneer, leaves the impression that he’s been touched by something filthy. But he did his best to match her smile as he straightens his tie. “I’m sure ‘shoved into on coming traffic by an American child’ is a valid excuse for tardiness.”

‘ monsieur lucius, ’  she concludes, confidently. the polite smile now a permanent fixture on her face, she wonders what to do from here. exiting situations was never her strong-suit, often admittedly resulting to rambling whenever she could to avoid an awkward silence. those were like hell to her.  ‘ yes, but could you imagine the obituary ? ’  remy gives off a breathy laugh,  ‘ mademoiselle remy bourque, only aged twenty-three, was tragically killed in a horrific traffic accident caused by the overcrowding of foreign tourists while she was on her way to work. oh what an embarrassing image it’ll paint of me --- but at least maybe then something could be done about all of the tourists in the streets. ’  she suddenly glances over at him, warily,  ‘ i’m sorry, i hope that didn’t sound so morbid, a lady shouldn’t talk about her own death that way. ’

[remybourque-blog]

starriingrole‌:

She scoffs, snorts, and it’s ugly, JEALOUS, pulling itself from the back of her throat. “I’m a chorus girl,“ she retorts, mouth a thin line, one long-fingered hand absently pulling at the ivory leather Givenchy satchel dangling from one elbow, "Even MEG has a bigger part than me.” She’s pouting, and what’s worse is she’s not going to make any attempt to HIDE it.

When Remy grabs her wrist, Christine begins to audibly whine, something high pitched and awful and irritating. “Mathieu told everyone to take five so I texted Gigi and asked her to get coffee ready for me at the counter! He’ll kill ME if I’m late getting back!” Of course, he’d also kill her if he saw her with caffeine on those oh so sensitive vocal chords, but that’s another story.

remy stops short and turns around,  ‘ what is it they say about showbiz ?  no part is too small ? ’  still, even though christine’s part isn’t big, remy noted that nearly everyone is expected to be at dress rehearsals  ( she noted it because the director had only yelled a couple hundred times in the last few days ). 

really, remy was only able to get a couple feet away from where she had crashed into her friend. she let go of christine’s wrist and checks her phone for the time. she chews on her bottom lip, considering her options and the consequences of showing up to rehearsal, late, with starbucks, and a cast member. she throws her head back and groans,  ‘ it’s settled then, no fun for any of us this morning. ’  she reaches out again and laces their fingers together as she starts to walk in the direction of the theater.  ‘ text gigi to just bring it to you --- and see if she can get me a latte too ! ’

[remybourque-blog]

starriingrole‌:

Christine catches the other girl’s similarly TINY frame with what might have been, perhaps, alarm, had she been awake enough to care more. Instead, slim, tan arms slowly find their way lazily in front of her, eyes blinking once widely as she just BARELY notices the scene about to unfold on the sidewalk, and then she yawns as Remy topples into her outstretched arms. 

“Shouldn’t you be at the theatre already?” she mumbles, eyes only half open, her own purse dangling limply off her elbow in nearly the same position Remy’s had been before she took her fall, “Rehearsal’s been going for almost two hours. Acel’s been having to take notes for them, you, and Lisette all at once. I’m shocked their hand hasn’t fallen off.” She yawns again, this time covering her mouth, shielding the other girl from the grotesque distortion of her features.

once she straightens up and realizes who caught her in the first place, she squeaks audibly, suddenly embarrassed at the notion of someone from the theater finding her on her way. what would have made the situation worse if it were erik or michel instead of chrstine. then it dawns on her. 

‘ me ????? ’  her eyes widen,  ‘ what about you ??? ’  remy points a finger at her,  ‘ you’re the star of the gosh-darn show, if anyone absolutely needs to be at rehearsal it’s you. ’  she grabs remy’s wrist and makes to tug her along, heels clacking on the pavement.  ‘ oh my god, chrissy, they’re going to kill me. ’

[remybourque-blog]

ratsseau‌:

His eyes narrowed as Lucien watched the incoming train wreck. And for just a brief instant, a very cruel, very malicious part of himself nearly took him over. What did he care if this girl fell flat on the sidewalk as she barreled towards him, completely out of control. Instead Lucien steps into her bath, arms shooting out with mechanical precision and swift reflexes taking over. It takes more strength than he’ll ever admit to remain upright.

“You’ll want to watch your step then, yeah?” he mutters as she pulls herself away from him. “I understand that toddlers usually have that particular talent.”

she looks back at the family, who had already moved on without another word or even apology. ‘ hmf, ’  she lets out, a pout forming on her mouth.  ‘ i guess what they say about americans is true --- so rude. ’  remy finally turns back to the person she fell into, and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.  ‘ yes, well, sorry for that again. if it weren’t for you i think i would have been more than just a little late for work. ’  she goes into full dramatics now, thinking about the various scenarios.  she could have hit her head and lost her memory, or broken her ankle, or have been trampled by the crowd like mufasa did by the gazelles. shaking her head in the slightest, she smiles at the other,  ‘ thank you, monsieur... ’

[remybourque-blog]

DATE: august 2nd ; mid-morning LOCATION: streets of paris STATUS: open 

remy huffs down the road, tote bag dangling off her elbow. she’s already late for work  ( what else is new )  and the lingering crowds of the late summer tourists filling the streets is not helping her get to her morning schedules any more efficiently. dress rehearsals started yesterday and the pressure of her actually having to pay attention has been pressed by michel multiple times in the last week. as she’s brushing past a little american family, her foot gets caught on someone’s ankle and she tumbles forward into someone’s arms.  ‘ merde, ’ she hisses, pulling herself up and brushing her clothes off.  ‘ i am so sorry, that toddler came out of nowhere ! ’

[remybourque-blog]

‘ you could take advantage of me maybe, when i’m drunk. ’ // ‘ you’re like my soulmate. ’

‘ you could take advantage of me maybe, when i’m drunk. ’

they’d been drinking for the last two and a half hours while laying across the fancy chaise in christine’s private parlour. it’s one of the nicest things remy has ever had the pleasure of sitting on, and the throw blanket draped across her lap is one of the softest things remy has ever felt, but with christine’s admission her mind immediately supplies her with other things that can contest against the throw blanket as the softest thing she’s ever felt.  ‘ chrissy !! ’  she barks out instead, bringing a hand to cover her mouth as she giggles, the warm flush of alcohol hitting her harder than intended,  ‘ you should be careful saying those things, someone might get the wrong idea. ’

‘ you’re like my soulmate. ’

both her hands fly up to lay on top of her chest where her heart is.  ‘ aww, chrissy, ’  she drawls out, lips jutting out to a sweet pout.  ‘ you’re like mine too. ’  and it was true. it was so easy for remy to call christine one of her best friends and fully, completely, irrecoverably mean it. it’s not like remy’s other best friends, no those were simply bracelet charms with the letters BFF emblazon on them --- being best friends with christine was maid of honor, god mother of my children, i’d call you first if i murder someone level best friends. 

[remybourque-blog]

‘ hey quick question: what the fuck is going on?? ’

she drops her feet from where they’re propped up on the velvet covered seat in the row in front of hers to let them past to sit down. to be honest, she hadn’t actually been paying attention to the rehearsal michel asked her to attend. she was supposed to be taking notes on production flaws and such, but after the first song, she tuned everything else out and started to doodle on her notepad instead. looking up at the situation on stage, she’s just as confused as acel.  ‘ uummmm, they’re rehearsing ? ’

[remybourque-blog]

‘ well, i’m an unconventional person, that’s what you like about me. ’

a bright smile stretches across her face as she beams up at acel  ( and, yes, she’s blushing a little --- but that’s typical ). she reaches forward a little and plays with the tie around their neck, flicking the tip of the fabric at their nose, scrunching her own nose up.  ‘ as if i’m ever that obvious, ’  she tries to play cool, though she knows they see past it --- if there’s ever anything about remy that anyone can pick up instantly, it’s that she’s obvious.  ‘ you’re cool, though. ’

[remybourque-blog]

‘ your friend sounds like an after school special. ’

‘ oh, well, ’  she pauses, thinking back to the last half hour she just spent talking the other’s ear off about her old schoolmate. like, sure, maybe it wasn’t proper of remy to just dump everything about her friend’s failed sugar daddy exploits --- the horrible affair ended up in the said sugar daddy’s now-ex-wife shaving a bald spot into her poor little head while she was asleep in their marital bed --- onto a complete stranger, but then again, it wasn’t completely fair that remy’s unnamed friend came to her in the middle of the night with a bottle of expensive wine, burdening remy’s conscience with this information.  ‘ she’s a really nice person, i swear. ’

[remybourque-blog]

‘ what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger… unless it kills you. ’

remy purses her lips and pulls out her phone mumbling under her breath,  ‘ i don’t think those are the words to the song ... ’  she googles the lyrics to kelly clarkson’s acclaimed comeback song stronger (what doesn’t kill you). as she pulls up the results, she scrolls down, singing along to the song.  ‘ see, ronnie ?? you got it wrong. ’ 

[remybourque-blog]

(   *   &.   –   MORE  POPULAR  TEXT  POST  STARTERS .

‘  i’m alive out of spite.  ’

‘  do you ever just feel super unloveable?  ’

‘  i’m so datable…. and yet here i am…. not being asked on dates….tragic….  ’

‘  hey quick question: what the fuck is going on??  ’

‘  i’m a person who wants to do lots of things trapped inside a body that wants to SLEEP at all times.  ’

‘  my mindset is changing and i just don’t want to be around certain things or people anymore.  ’

‘  i want mamma mia to become the fast and furious franchise of musicals.  ’

‘  playlists are a love language.  ’

‘  gay culture is being just a little bit in love with all your friends.  ’

‘  so damn ready for hoodies and cold nights.  ’

‘  if you were emo once you’re emo for life, whether you wear the uniform anymore or not.  ’

‘  i’m all panic and no disco.  ’

‘  me talking to myself in the morning: okay bitch, get the fuck up.  ’

‘  can i stop existence for a few hours?  ’

‘  you ain’t at your lowest till you sit down in a standing shower.  ’

‘  i’m super sexual but like also i’m super shy which don’t mix well.  ’

‘  princess aurora is just so relatable… she’s known for simply… sleeping… inspirational tbh…  ’

‘  destroy the idea that i can be stopped. that i can be defeated by mortal hands.  ’

‘  on all levels except physical i am an emo middle schooler.  ’

‘  whatever you do, do it with love.  ’

‘  we’re all just ex-emo kids tryin to make it in this post-emo world.  ’

‘  i just want to dance around in lacy lingerie and oversized shirts and makeout on someones lap.  ’

‘  screenshots don’t scare me, i know what the fuck i said.  ’

‘  i’m going to say something super controversial here: billionaires shouldn’t exist.  ’

‘  i just had the absolute WORST realization: glee would have covered despacito.  ’

‘  i wish to radiate moonlight and heavenly energy at all times.  ’

‘  shout out to everyone who i still trying to heal from things they don’t talk about.  ’

‘  it’s just me and my big thighs against the world.  ’

‘  what happens to all your teen angst when you’re 20… like where does it go?  ’

‘  shout out to my incoherent bitches!! shout out to all the babes out there who don’t make no fucking sense!!  ’

‘  tiny hearts generate above my head when i think of you.  ’

‘  tested positive for overthinking.  ’

‘  queer eye is just like ‘damn bitch, you live like this?’ the show.  ’

‘  i want the queer eye guys to come to my house and just burn all my shit then prescribe me adderall.  ’

‘  i don’t even keep up with the memes anymore, i just accept them. when we’re sad we play despacito? okie dokie.  ’

‘  am i annoying and a little ugly? yes. but will i let that get in the way of doing what i love and being happy?? also probably yes.  ’

‘  someone waiting to do something because they want to experience it with you is a glowing kind of love.  ’

‘  am i in love with someone? nah i got shit to do.  ’

‘  never understood people who let candy melt in their mouth. i’ll bite down on a damn jolly rancher because i lack the patience.  ’

‘  if you think i’m cute you legally have to tell me.  ’

‘  look at you, living everyday without the person you thought you needed.  ’

‘  i want a soft love that feels like when your standing in the sunlight and you don’t want to leave and that gives you the sensation of lazily melting into what’s around you as you take it all in  ’

‘  my neck, my back, my anxiety attack.  ’

‘  why get a boyfriend when you can get a pack of really nice pens.  ’

‘  in sixth grade you were either a cucumber melon bitch or a warm vanilla sugar bitch.  ’

‘  friendly reminder: the way they treat(ed) you is not a reflection of your worth.  ’

‘  i wish i could be near you, my heart misses you.  ’

‘  i’m not trying my hardest but i’m very tired which i think should be taken into consideration  ’

[remybourque-blog]

(   *   &.   –   SHARP  OBJECTS  SENTENCE  STARTERS .

‘  all of history was written by men, so… of course they’re gonna make themselves look good.  ’

‘  as i recall, you couldn’t even get it up.  ’

‘  bless your heart. bless your heart very much.  ’

‘  can i sleep over with you?  ’

‘  does it ever get better, with your family?  ’

‘  fine, you can sleep in my bed, come on. you can sleep with me.  ’

‘  hardly matters. you’re ruined. all out of spite.  ’

‘  i believe she’s outstayed her welcome.  ’

‘  i don’t mean to sound cruel, but i don’t think part of your heart can ever work if you don’t have kids.  ’

‘  i forget sometimes how parents aren’t always good for their kids.  ’

‘  i have to get home for heaven’s sake!  ’

‘  i miss her sometimes, even though i didn’t know her.  ’

‘  i never loved you. i hope that is of some comfort to you.  ’

‘  i think we should just sleep separate tonight then we’ll hang out tomorrow, okay?  ’

‘  i won’t grow up, not me.  ’

‘  if i can, you can.  ’

‘  if somebody says ‘bless your heart’, what they really mean is ‘fuck you’.  ’

‘  it’s hotter than a whore in church today.  ’

‘  i’m a bit tired, i think i should just sleep in my bed tonight.  ’

‘  i’m glad you’re back.  ’

‘  i’m incorrigible too. only she doesn’t know it.  ’

‘  i’m just a little frustrated ‘cause the girl i’m seeing won’t call me back.  ’

‘  i’m not decent. no, i’m not.  ’

‘  i’m trash, from old money.  ’

‘  i’ve just never been very good at the adult thing, i guess.  ’

‘  just forget about it, alright? i have.  ’

‘  let’s dig deep here… favorite color, favorite ice cream, favorite season? think you can handle it?  ’

‘  life is pressure. grow up.  ’

‘  my demons are not remotely tackled. they’re just mildly concussed.  ’

‘  nothing’s ever your fault, is it?  ’

‘  please stay.  ’

‘  please stay. if i can, you can.  ’

‘  she’s delicate. a rare rose. but not without thorns.  ’

‘  so, uh, are you guys dating now?  ’

‘  that day has haunted me.  ’

‘  well, i’m an unconventional girl, that’s what you like about me.  ’

‘  well, looks like we both got fucked.  ’

‘  we’re alike. i knew we would be.  ’

‘  what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger… unless it kills you.  ’

‘  what if, after you die, part of you goes to heaven, part of you stays here, just to see how things turn out?  ’

‘  whenever i’m here, i just– i feel like a bad person.  ’

‘  you could take advantage of me maybe, when i’m drunk.  ’

‘  you gonna hit me? be dangerous.  ’

‘  you have the control and… they like you.  ’

‘  you turned out so wonderful, smart, beautiful, successful, and brave.  ’

‘  you were born with it, that cold nature.  ’

‘  your friend sounds like an after school special.  ’

‘  you’re a sick fuck.  ’

‘  you’re like my sister.  ’

‘  you’re like my soulmate.  ’

[remybourque-blog]

if anyone wants to read remy’s application ! the characterization is p much the same.

BASICS :

hello i’m rick, rick astley, but u can call me kviii or kviiilyn. jk im iris and this is my crib. i’m 21 years old, living in the PST timezone and i use she/they pronouns.

TRIGGERS :

i have an admin lux trigger, so if she could tag herself that’d be grviii thx. 

FULL NAME with maiden name, if applicable : moon juim remy bourque

CURRENT AGE : 23

GENDER AND PRONOUNS : cisfemale, she/her

LOYALTY : neutral but lbr the destler men are daddies. ( #DestlerDaddy )

OCCUPATION : secretary to michel lefèvre  ( aka Daddy #1 )

CRIMINAL OCCUPATION : none for now but she probably unwittingly gets herself into some shit.

FACE CLAIM : son naeun

INSIGHT :

I was torn between a few of the characters that were released before her, but after reading Remy in bed the night before my first final of the semester, I knew that she was the one for me. Everything about her biography, from her two left feet, to the little fuzzy roommate she sometimes throws a stiletto at when it catches her off guard, to the fact that she’s “disliked by everyone”, made me fall in love with her. I could instantly see myself spending the rest of my days with this Certified Mess™ of a woman. I know it sounds like I’m proposing to marry her, but I would gladly do so if it saves her from tripping along the cobblestone paths on the way to her work. She’s oddly charming, the kind that you didn’t think you would like, and she’s just not afraid to be herself. She doesn’t have a filter and she may rub people the wrong way, but that’s their problem not hers. All she wants in life is to be happy and carefree, is that too hard to ask ?

HEADCANONS :

MI CASA, SU CASA ; Remy was her sister’s roommate first; having let herself in one night with her large pink suitcase in tow after having had enough of their family home in the 20th Arrondissement. How tacky was it to still be living at home at twenty-one, when her sister had moved out years ago to attend university. So she sauntered over early in the evening when her sister was studying and wheedled her way into her heart and her apartment. From then on, she crashed on her sister’s couch for over a year, and then when Remy’s sister started dating this cute intellectual from the history department of her school, it was like Remy had the apartment to herself — especially during the lovers’ honeymoon phase when they would go out into the city almost every night. It was nice that her sister was dating and happy, at least until he decided to move into their already cramped space. He always tried to clean up around the house, namely in Remy’s little area, and always pointed out some cheap rooms for rent or studios to her.  ( “That’s such a cute space ! But I don’t think it’ll fit all three of us.” ) But then they started to get even more domestic and suddenly Remy felt like the ultimate third wheel, which is not ideal at all. She’s a pretty young ( single ) thing in the city of love, and if the offer ever came up, she couldn’t bring someone back to an apartment that had all the accouterments of a serious relationship. There are pictures of her sister and her boyfriend being cute and kissy for goodness sake ! Not at all the bachelorette vibe she wants. So she applied for the job at the theatre for the money and finally moved out. And her sister and her boyfriend were so nice about it too ! They helped her pack her things and move into her new flat, and even brought her a little housewarming gift.

THIRD EYE ; If you ever cross Remy on the street, there is a 75% chance that she will pull you aside and tell you about your aura or your zodiac that day. She’s got a certified third eye for these kind of things. There was this old lady in the park that Remy would pass on the way to school growing up, and she would always talk about prophecies and read the little lines on her palm. Remy always found it charming. In fact, she even asked the sweet lady to teach her. In her high school years, Remy spent most of her allowance money on crystals and medallions and how-to books from the incense filled shops on the outskirts of town. She would watch youtube videos and search sketchy websites about astrology and tea leaf readings. The hobby has died down years ago, she’s not that adamant about it anymore, but she’ll still turn to giving unsolicited advice and palm readings to whomever she feels has a good vibe.

JE M’APPELLE ; She changed her name the moment she found out she could, all chubby-cheeked and sparkling eyes. It’s not that she didn’t like the name Juim Moon  ( or was it Moon Juim, she’s seen her mama write it both ways on forms that she’s not sure which ways is proper anymore )  it’s just that she didn’t FEEL like a Juim. She never really did if she were to be honest. Which makes her sound like an ungrateful brat, her grandmother named her after all, but when you don’t feel it you don’t feel it. When she started secondary school, she introduced herself as Remy — a new brand to distance herself from the mess and a half that was a 14-year-old Juim. She was a new woman, with a new name and a new moniker. Remy Bourque. Both chosen from things she came across in the streets, a street sign here, a clothing label there. She tested and selected various variations until there was a combination she could see herself sticking with. It was cute and utterly French-sounding, things that she saw herself as, and she wouldn’t want anything less.

QUESTION ONE : What was your childhood like?

‘ Well, ’  she straightens up in her seat, flipping her hair back and clearing her throat just the slightest like she’s getting ready for a speech.  ‘ I was born and raised in Paris, believe it or not, just across from the Square Jardin Gare de Charonne — well, not really just across, but like in a complex near the gardens. My papa was a pharmacy tech and my mama tried her hand at a bunch of jobs over our childhood. She checked groceries at one point, and worked in a flower shop, and did some clerical work for a law office. Really simple stuff that got her out of the house when me and my sister were off at school. And my sister and I, ’  Remy gestured with her hand, her wrist limp,  ‘ we were just close as can be. I mean, she is just fantastic — she’s in school right now, she wants to be a pharmacist like our papa. She’s a real smart one, you know ? It’s just too bad she’s gotten kind of boring over the years. ’  

She makes a full stop, then looks at the others in the room,  ‘ Oh please don’t tell her I said that. I love her and all, it’s just that the stuff she talks about can be a bit dull. ’  She gives a small smile, grateful for the discretion. ‘ Okay, back to your question. Um, ’  she thinks for a second, trying to gather her thoughts,  ‘ my childhood was great — in a word. I come from humble beginnings, my parents never spoiled me, and I think I turned out pretty great. ’

QUESTION FOUR : Where is your favorite place in Paris?

‘ Oh this is easy ! ’  A full smile stretches across her face as she leans in,  ‘ There’s this café on the way to the Theatre that I pass every morning. It’s usually not that crowded when I walk by, just a few commuters going in and out for breakfast, but I always just have to stop and smell the freshly baked croissants and the coffee that they just brewed. Every time I get my paycheck, I go in for a baguette and their special pâtisserie of the day. It just reminds me of all the things I love about Paris, you know ? ’

QUESTION SEVEN : What is your favorite way to pass the time?*

She looks at the others sheepishly, like she’s holding a secret, but let’s be honest, she doesn’t hold many secrets to her heart.  ‘ People always give me strange looks when I say this, but I love people watching, ’  she admits.  ‘ It’s kind of a weird, guilty pleasure that I’ve had for as long as I can remember. Like I just get so invested into these people’s lives when they walk by, and I come up with these histories and motivations for them. It’s like a game of Sims, except I can’t tell people to go into a pool and then take the ladder to get out away. ’ She giggles, the noise high and flitting,  ‘ Gosh, that’s so bad to say. It’s fun though, if you have nothing else grabbing your attention. ’

EVERYTHING ELSE :

do u want to see the resume she submitted to michel ?

( jk here’s the actual resume. she pulled an elle woods and sprayed it with her perfume to make it scented )

a mock blog

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[remybourque-blog]

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[remybourque-blog]

name: remy bourque

age: twenty three

gender and pronouns: cis female, she/her

loyalty: neutral

occupation: secretary to michel lefèvre

criminal occupation: none

faceclaim: son naeun

It’s not that you grew up in the lap of luxury. It’s not even that you wish you had, or that you tell people you did. Over the years, however, you’ve acquired a certain skill that’s halfway between not giving two flying whatevers what people think about you and being really good at making them believe whatever you want. Well, within reason. You’ll always be something of a bubble-headed ditz with sprained ankles from wearing heels an inch too tall for the two left feet you got stuck with, and you’ll never be able to tell Chanel from Prada from any of the two-bit knockoffs they sell at the flea market in the square. You’ll always be just a touch too abrasive, voice too cutting and nasally and your gum pops too loud when you chew it. But you don’t think anyone can tell that your knee socks are five years old or that you sleep in curlers because you wake up and nearly forget to put your shoes on half the time. Or maybe they do notice, and they just don’t care. If it was you, those would be the first things you would notice, right after the spinach stuck between someone’s two front teeth and the hour you spent after trying to figure out where they had lunch and how much it must’ve cost them just from that one speck of greenery between two pearly whites when they flashed you a smile at the reception desk when you were filing your nails. But then again, they’re not the gossip, you are. Maybe that’s what other people notice about you, and not that your nails are natural but the polish is always chipping even though you get them done as often as you can afford. Isn’t that funny? Some people just have their priorities so backwards.

It’s nice, the job at the theatre. Before you applied there you were living off of your sister and her boyfriend, but that was getting old real quick. Sure, you got to have some much needed quality time with your big sis and they got the constant gift of your presence, but it was time for you to have some freedom, some independence. Some cold hard cash to let you spread your wings and really fly. The theatre was the first place with opens you found that didn’t look completely terrible or like you’d arrive only to be knocked out and have your social security number stolen, and you were so confident that you only submitted one application, one resume. As luck would have it, you got the very first job you’d ever applied for, and so now you have a quaint little apartment within walking distance from the theatre that you pay for all by yourself and everything, and you only have to share it with one rat. Well, one rat that you’ve seen, anyway. Not counting Lucien. But it’s a good place, a nice job, even if you don’t do much of anything. It sounds fancy when you tell people you work there and it puts food on the table, and you can’t really ask for much more.

disliked by: everyone

friends: baylen moreau, christine daae, fleur renard, and odessa faust

interests: annabella chaney, antonin petrovic, claude babin, erik destler, gille andre, lucien rousseau, narissa king, philippe chaney, and richard firmin

GABRIEL PRIDEAUX AND YVETTE MERCIER

Really, you don’t know why Gabriel and Yvette don’t like you. I mean, no you don’t really put that much effort into finding out why they rolls their eyes every time you open your mouth to speak, but just sticking out your tongue at them is so much more fun than resolving the conflict. Maybe they’re being serious when they you to shove it, but for you this is much more of a game. You don’t have enemies, or even people who don’t like you. Only friends who tease you an awful lot and sometimes don’t know when to stop. It’s not possible for people not to like you, even if you know you don’t like them… is it?.

MICHEL LEFÈVRE

Everyone always says they have no idea why Michel chose you as his secretary. It’s a slight and you always treat it as such, leaving in a huff and a half, mouth gaping like a fish and hair tossed indignantly over one shoulder. You’d be lying if you ever said you didn’t secretly agree with them though. You’d never admit it, of course; you appreciate the job, and as far as everyone else is concerned you’re not only the perfect candidate for this and any other position, but the bee’s knees to boot. But really? This is the first job you’ve ever had. You’ve got no experience, no skills, no people skills, and no attention span. At first you thought maybe he was just a dirty old man, but that story isn’t even panning out. He hasn’t so much as looked at you sideways in the whole time you’ve worked at the theatre, and you don’t get even the slightest notion that’ll change anytime soon. Still, you won’t question it. Let him change his mind the three hundredth time you forget to write down a call. That’s his fault for ever hiring you in the first place.

XAVIER CARMEN

The first day you met Xavier, you were tucked away in the corner both of The Yellow Room, smiling away at each other, people watching, tearing apart the other customers in low tones, punctuating savage remarks with little giggles. At one point he touched his finger to the tip of your nose and smiled. ‘You’re a lot of fun, Miss Bourque. The easiest person to get along with that I’ve ever met.’ In about half a second, your face turned the same color as your hair, and for a few weeks after that you spent most of your time daydreaming about the type of wedding you and Xavier would have. No one had ever given you a compliment like that, after all. Most people called you annoying, a bother, a pain. But those feelings subsided much more quickly than you were expecting, and while you’re still a little possessive over Xavier’s time and attention, you’re really very content with the connection you have right now, and even that’s devolved into a sort of amused disdain at the notion of having a romantic relationship with him. Xavier is like your other half, though, that much is for sure.

THIS CHARACTER HAS A FLEXIBLE FACECLAIM AND IS TAKEN BY IRIS