#so is she a shallow jewel obsessed fool?

[odettenorton]

unfamiliar roads

WHEN: two nights ago WHERE: odette’s home in elry cray, wickway WHAT: odette gets summoned, finding herself at crossroads 

CONTENT WARNING FOR: mentions of death, poisoning

Odette doesn’t sleep at night anymore. Not since the day she cut ties with the gang, and that life. She snatches her sleep between hours of paperwork, her trusty boxcutter always within reach just in case. She isn’t afraid to die, per se. Because death was something her parents had brought home regularly, and she was desensitized to the taste of copper and warmth of it. No, she’s not afraid of death, but she refuses to die without taking some people with her. That’s been her life, kill or be killed and never go down without a fight.

But that night was different. She was watching Nat Geo, some show about geckos and mating patterns, with a glass of jewel red wine and the company of her cat Sergio, and she was content. For the first time in a long time, she doesn’t think of Sarah or the Santoros, and she’s pleasantly put to sleep by Sergio’s deep purrs as Odette scratches his head. She’s nodding off to the dulcet tones of nature music, and she’s almost out like a light. 

Till she hears the knock. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Odette sits up in a flash, dropping her glass as Sergio dashes to the other side of the living room with a mewl of indignation. “Dammnit...I’m sorry, baby…” She’s almost ashamed at her startled reaction, like bravado wasn’t just knocked out of her, with a bloody knock at her door. If it was death, it would have been quicker and she would have never broken sleep. It would have come too quick, but it would be sleep. No pain. 

Instead, she’s grabbing her gun from it’s holster and walking towards the door, her breathing slow and shallow as she unlocks her front door, now aiming her gun at whoever was standing there. No one. Odette checks though, just to be sure. Just to be sure. 

There is an envelope resting on her welcome mat; crisp, ornate and the chicken scratch bears her name. And there is Sergio, rubbing against her leg as if to let her know it’s late and he needs to sleep. “In a minute, baby…” She picks up the envelope, trying to make as little contact as she can with the surfaces. It could be poisonous; a little prick and she’s dosed with god knows what. Or it could be laced with something that kills her instantaneously, and she shudders as she closes her door shut and leaves the letter resting on the key plate. 

“C’mon Serg, off to bed we go.” She picks the cat up, walking towards the bedroom and locking it shut. She’d deal with it when morning came. 

And morning came too fucking soon. Sergio is asleep by the window sill and Odette is getting ready for work, and she purposefully ignores the letter sitting there, all proud and reveling in her fear. She should have just burned it, but she knows she cannot. Not without seeing what’s inside it. Shit. She’s running late for work anyways. 

It’s been a day since she’s received the letter. “It’s now or never, buddy…” She’s sitting at the dinner table, wearing latex gloves and cutting through the letter in a precise motion. Before she reads it though, she makes the mistake of turning the radio on. Albert Green. Lydia Evans. Roy Higgins. The names take a minute to register, the tone reminding her of her father’s obsession with number stations. Sarah Kramer. Odette immediately shuts the radio off. Her name still echoes in the emptiness between her heavy breathing and Sergio’s nightly grooming ritual. 

The guilt will eat her up before the Santoros’ do. So, she takes the letter out of the envelope. Because she knows that whatever it is, she’ll do it. She’s been branded from the moment she was born to her parents, wasn’t she? 

Return home. Or pay for your sins. 

The back of her hand itches again, as if the tattoo is coming to life. Which it isn’t, but her whole face is heated and she’s faced with the mistake she made all those years ago. Return home. Nothing felt like home since she left. Was she still welcome? 

Home. 

She closes her eyes for a moment, before she opens them again. She looks at Sergio, and there’s another delicate silence surrounding them, till Odette starts to laugh. It’s not maniacal, nothing too crazy. She’s just chuckling at her own foolishness. The illusion of choice. There was something to be said about that, of course. The detective fooled herself into thinking that she had a choice. 

“Don’t wait up for me, Sergio. I have work to do.” 

She’s peeling off the gloves, burning the letter till it’s nothing but ashes in her waste paper basket, and before she can back out, she’s already wearing her helmet and she’s out. 

Return home. 

Odette made her choice. 

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, VICTORIA! You’ve been accepted for the role of BERTRAM. Admin Julie: Ring ring, Vic, it’s me, the bringer of good news -- albeit, a little late! Your application for Beau was literally everything I wanted and more. From the not-so-subtle allusions to pop culture and media which Beau would likely be obsessed with, to how Beau’s world revolves around Beau, you hit the nail on the head. I’m especially interested to see how he will grow, change, fail, and adjust to the world around him as it spins on its axis, especially with the Capulets and Montagues ready to go at each others’ throats. I was overjoyed to see your app in the inbox, and I’m just as overjoyed to have this fool of a man on the dashboard. Thank you! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Victoria

Age | 24

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | I’m always available on mobile, and I try to knock out a few replies every other day unless I manage to queue.

Timezone | EST

Triggers | none that aren’t already listed

How did you find the rp?  | Rosey

Current/Past RP Accounts | I currently write Katarina Du Pont !

IN CHARACTER

Character | Your desired character’s alias -

Beau Renaud, Bertram. // with a faceclaim change to Zane Holtz and if I could age him up to 32, I’d appreciate it! It gives me the time to have Beau attend university in Paris and ‘build’ a career that would make it plausible for him to have bought his way to the top, ruined it for himself, and then crawled back to his mothers to have ‘earned’ his position at L’Arena.

What drew you to this character? | We’d love to hear what about this character’s bio caught your attention! Make this as long or as short as you desire!

On Beau Renaud–

What drew me to Beau Renaud the most was how fun he is– how shallow, and perfectly flawed this dastardly human being is who jumps out from his biography and reeks of Creed Aventus during the week and Bleu de Chanel on the weekends with a voice as sickly sweet as a macaron. Quite frankly, he’s the type of person I’d want to punch in the face, but my god after reading his biography I was dumbfounded by how much I adored him. Maybe it’s because of how light he feels, in comparison to some of the other characters here in DiVerona. Maybe it’s his blissful ignorance towards his own flaws while he attempts to navigate the flawed lives within Verona. Maybe I just love the idea of writing someone so garishly grand and loves themselves for it. Or, maybe it’s because there’s something terribly alluring about writing a man who really is in it for himself: without the violence, with only a love for the beautiful things in life.

Beau Renaud is a man adored, but not a man loved. And there’s something terribly lonely about this. There’s something haunting in the lack of genuine connection he has with people. There is something… Lonely about being an only child, but one that is seen not as himself, but as the living failed embodiment of his parents ambitions. It’s about the glitter and gold, it’s all about an opulent party and the adrenaline rush of the interactions. But, it’s not about heart. Strangely enough, terribly enough, it’s not about Beau’s heart. He’s not nearly ruined enough to be hailed a Dorian Gray for his sins, but… It’s quite something to realise that he’s as clueless as Dorian was at the beginning of Oscar Wilde’s novel.

At the end of the day, he is simply a man born in the wrong era. Beau Renaud would not have been found at fault if he’d been born in the Edwardian era or sooner. And it’s almost laughable, that his engagement to Daphne Allard is nearly exactly that of every American millionaire’s daughter who had gone to Europe in hopes to marry a man who had what they lacked: lineage and rank. It’s a call back to Downton Abbey, it’s Consuelo Vanderbilt marrying the 9th Duke of Marlborough, it’s the Gilded Age of British aristocracy (who were quietly growing too poor to maintain their grand estates) marrying commoners for their considerable dowries. Beau Renaud would have fit right in. He comes from a sumptuous bloodline after all, and the man does need his funding to fit the lifestyle he loves.

I almost hate admitting it, how alluring this man is. But, that’s Beau for you. You adore him, but you don’t love him. There’s something terribly ugly about how beautiful this man is, how handsomely grotesque he manages to be in his vanity and near blindness. You love the parties, the escapism, the way he is accessible and a self-proclaimed neutral. Yet, you hate him for the same exact reasons. Friend or foe is a game to be played in Verona. Is he bright enough, at least, to play it to survival? Animals do whatever it takes to survive, and Beau will do whatever it takes to make sure he does. But, will he survive in Verona? I want to write him because I’d like to be the first to find out.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | Where do you see this character developing, and what kind of actions would you have them take to get there? 3 future plot ideas would be preferable.

Everywhere and nowhere, down the rabbit hole and to Hadestown we go. This is where we find Beau Renaud. This is where we find parts of his story and where his life might lead– but you won’t find his ending written anywhere. At least, not yet.

Dorian Gray – a moment in literature

It’s almost laughable how comparable Beau Renaud is to the Dorian Gray we are introduced to at the beginning of Oscar Wilde’s only novel. They both know nothing but of the grandeur their lifestyles have afforded them, they know their childish selfishness– they have some grasp at the desire to please others and fit in. But while Dorian’s greatest catalysts are, arguably, an unnamed book and Lord Henry Wotton, our dear Bertram has spent a year in Verona remaining the same neutral, same untainted and self-centered man that had arrived from Paris. He’s a modern Dorian, who knows the spoils of narcotics and what money can buy. But in the case of Dorian’s descent into debauchery and extremes of unforgivable sin, Beau has yet to descend from his harmless (though blind) perch beside his beautiful fiancee. I won’t define the catalyst, because this is dependent on many factors in Beau’s life: who he makes friends or enemies with, the decisions he makes in terms of his position at L’Arena, the information he may or may not learn. But it is a precarious place where he sits. He is determined to survive, determined to live in his lighthearted merriment as a socialite. This greed for himself was known to him in France, but Verona has a way of bringing out the darkest and most wretched desires of its occupants. His priority is himself– How far down into sin is he willing to go to ensure it? Can he be brought to violence? He’s already sinful enough, witty enough to buy people off to secure his safety– to one extreme, can his sly tongue and position at L’Arena buy his safety within a mob? If his descent to Hell is to follow that of Dorian Gray, Beau is destined to utter doom. Years and years of debauchery and unholy acts are to follow him, plague him. Anything to survive, anything to enjoy still his beauty and his life. Whatever it takes to win. At least, until his guilt eventually catches up to him. But, will it?

Scarlett O’Hara, Prince Charming – a moment in film

His own survival is his greatest priority. His marriage guarantees him this– just like Scarlett O’Hara’s second marriage to Frank Kennedy and following marriage to Rhett Butler, and not unlike Shrek 2’s Prince Charming and his betrothal to the unfortunately, unknowingly already married Princess Fiona. Beau, Scarlett, and Prince Charming are all characterized by their greed and ignorance. Scarlett wants to survive and is willing to marry whoever it might be that will allow her to continue to live in comfort. However, as she pines for another, she is ignorant to the love that has been in front of her since before the Civil War. In the end, she’s too late to realise it. Prince Charming, on the other hand, had been promised the hand of Princess Fiona and the kingdom to follow. He shows that he’s willing to resort to manipulation and violence to achieve what he so ardently desires, having grown up promised he would have it all. Beau is engaged to the beautiful Daphne Allard: he’s been promised riches and the lifetime of a socialite as her husband. But, is that all this is? Is he Scarlett, marrying only for money? Prince Charming had wanted love, but what does Beau want? The chill to the air when the two are alone in a room is practically suffocating, freezing him from the inside out, unnerving the charming, rogue-ish grin that dances along his expression. Though this is certainly a business arrangement, Beau cannot help but wish for, at least, friendship between himself with his soon to be wife. His charm, his grace had failed him with her in the months that had followed his arrival in Verona. And though as of late he’s not thought much of his fiancee, there is still some deeper part of him (whether or not he would be open to admitting it, or Daphne would be receptive enough to hear it and believe him is certainly a question) that wishes to try. She sees him as Hades. But, wasn’t Hades the most loyal, most benevolent of his brothers?

The Confession, Sir Francis Dicksee – a moment in art

Would he be the confessor one day? Or, would she? Daphne, he wishes to know as his future wife, Lillian he wishes to know as… What? Both women are brilliant and sparkling jewels in Verona, revered as they are for their money and poise. But, what would it take for him to open up? What would he have to do, or say, to make one, or both of them allow their truths to tumble from their lips? Words, beautiful words can and do shine as luminously as they do on their own. Truth can be uncovered no matter how prettily laced they can be, and he is no stranger to the wit and charm required to undo such beautiful wrappings. Or, would their truths dim their light? Would it marr their facades of utter perfection? He’s so very curious about Lillian. How is it possible for one to be so good? He can practically feel Daphne slipping further and further away from him. But, when it comes to both women, could their truths hurt him, damage him in some way? When it comes to his fears and deepest desires, and even his unaddressed shame at having his mothers both so cuttingly tell him he was never meant for greatness and lacked the proper ambition and intelligence that they’d wished for him, when will it come to light? Who would he ever confess it to? It’s true, he’s shrouded in darkness, in a mystery of ignorance and laughter, but there is a hollowness to it. A year in Verona has brought a sense of desperation to the frenzy of weekly galas and parties that offer an escape from the harsh realities of each day, each week spent in this city. Perhaps, one day he will confess. Maybe, one day he will uncover a darker world of hurt and pain and truth within himself. But, after confession comes repentance. Does he have it in himself to ever do such a thing?

Versailles, Gossip Girl – a moment in television

As far as story arcs go, no matter how much he might try to remain neutral, Beau Renaud is a socialite that’s had his hands in ruin of his own name in the past. Was this ruin nearly anything as terrible as what goes on in Verona? No. In the glimmering world of being of a good name and household, being the son of the right parents is everything. He is their legacy, their smiles and laughter, their triumphs. The upper class would be nothing without a healthy dose of nepotism. For Beau, Verona is nothing like Paris. In fact, it’s nearly as though he’s been thrown into some bizarre amalgamation of Gossip Girl meets Versailles. There is intrigue and drama, there is murder and poison, there are vile things lurking beneath the surface of every sparkling thing that Verona has to offer and violence at every turn, paranoia running rampant as he looks over his shoulder every day. In the past months it’s finally sunk in that he’s in the middle of a mob war, with one side choking him and the other with a dagger in his side daring him to publish anything that leans more to one side or another. He’s privy to many secrets, yes, but he is nowhere near powerful nor as connected here in Verona. Either he develops towards a path where he stakes his claim and stands his ground as a keeper of secrets to harness his own power, he remains a neutral puppet dancing merrily on strings like a marionette doll, or he joins a mob. Whichever direction he goes in, however he develops as a character has yet to be seen. But, it will not be without struggle. It will be filled with anguish and strife, hardship that he has never known: because this is Verona, and he is not immune to his environment; because in order to survive, he must choose and he will suffer no matter which path he should set himself onto. Versailles’ court would have been simpler to navigate. Perhaps, though, Beau Renaud would end up in a ditch before he can decide. Maybe, he’ll be responsible for a death or two– either by his own hand, or as a result of news published to L’Arena. The possibilities are endless for this pretty bird with clipped wings. And, to think: he only thought he’d be moving to Verona to marry a rich, pretty girl and a new career that he could slack off on easily.

Welcome to year 2 in Verona, darling. Xoxo Gossip Girl

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | End him. But make it pretty.

IN DEPTH

Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)

In-Character Interview: The following questions must be answered in-character, and in para form (quotations, actions written out if applicable, etc). There is no minimum or maximum limit for your response - simply answer as you would if you were playing the character.

What is your favorite place in Verona?

“How could I ever choose?” He leans back in his seat, eyes dancing with merriment as he grins. “This place–” Beau’s hand comes up to gesture towards the view beyond the patio where they sit, fingers sweeping towards the view of Verona before it resettles again in his lap. “Is so beautiful.” His chin turns next, blue eyes focusing on the city in the distance, chiseled jaw emphasized by the light as the curve of his mouth softens to the practiced look of fondness. “Verona is no Paris,” This, he admits as though it were a secret, louder than a murmur so that the other can hear him, but soft enough that he nearly seems embarrassed to admit it. “But, it is something else.” His brow quirks slightly at the interviewer’s direction, ever so dynamic, ever so engaging. “But, I suppose if I have to pick a place, it would have to be The Twelfth Night.” The artwork reminds him of the museums he used to stroll around, and The Tempest reminds him of the nightlife he had been so accustomed to in Paris. This isn’t home, but it needs to be. It will be, after he marries Daphne in November. “There’s a certain charm to this city, and it is… Beautiful. There’s nothing quite like it.”

What does your typical day look like?

“–Well, I take Quaaludes 10-15 times a day for my “back pain”, Adderall to stay focused, Xanax to take the edge off, pot to mellow me out, cocaine to wake me back up again, and morphine… Well, because it’s awesome.” He’s since turned his face back to the interviewer in full, quoting The Wolf of Wall Street without so much a blink in hesitation. But then he snorts, and a playful expression comes over his handsome features. “I’m kidding. I saw it in a movie once, and I thought it was funny.” A chuckle tumbles from Beau’s lips as he crosses his legs in easy elegance. Though as burly as he is, it’s almost surprising someone like him is so smooth. He attributes this to the ballroom dancing lessons he’d begun as a child, and none of it to the swimming and boxing he does to stay fit now. “My typical day is like anyone’s that works an office job. Wake up to an alarm that’s too early for comfort, check my phone, have an espresso shot or two to get going before I get ready and am out the door. My work at L’Arena is blessedly streamlined by my personal assistant Sophie as I also have a hand in planning a few charity events a month.” When the interviewer looks surprised, Beau shrugs good-naturedly. “I was not so lucky to be in such a position in Paris. After all, I am my mother’s son, and she is quite the philanthropist herself.”

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

His brows furrow, mouth falling open before it partially shuts in an exhale of contemplative breath. This is a question he had not expected and later he’d have Sophie send a damning email to the head of this magazine for not sticking to the approved questions. The subtle pout to his lips makes it evident that he is less than pleased. “I suppose…” A blink, then another. Then a laugh as he shakes his head at the interviewer, bringing that charming smile back to his features. “Not learning Italian more quickly? I’d say I am quite passable now, but, perhaps if I had not studied English throughout my education, I could have learned Italian instead.” Reaching for the mimosa before him, Beau takes a sip before he continues. “No,” He teases with a faux contemplative look into his half-empty flute. “I think my biggest mistake was not proposing to Daphne in Paris. I think it would have been more picturesque, more romantic that way. But, she accepted, despite the location. That’s all that matters to me.”

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

This is both a question and answer he knows, and with a softening look in his eyes that he smiles once more, absentmindedly rolling the stem of his glass as he speaks. “Finalising the design of Daphne’s ring. I wanted it to be unique to her, to the jeweler and design house, and I wanted it to be like nothing anyone had ever seen before. So, we’d pulled from archives, looking for a way to better conceptualise what I was looking to create. And, in the end, we were able to accomplish it.” Beau nearly seems fond of the memory, but when the ring itself is a testament to him, why wouldn’t he be? His pride glows like something glimmering and warm, but deep down the most difficult task was abandoning Paris– abandoning the beautiful city he knew every inch of for the grotesque little city of Verona.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

He has half a mind to throw this interviewer out of his home. What sort of interview was this? But before his displeasure makes itself known, it is covered up by his sitting up and expression changing to one of surprise, brows raising once more as remnants of his smile still curve at his lips. “I’m not here to make a political statement, my friend. And– I do run a news outlet here in Verona that’s unbiased.” He nods towards today’s edition of L’Arena that sits artfully amongst the breakfast spread on the table between them, voice taking on a more wistful, more passionate tone than before: just like his mothers had taught him. Beau appears vulnerable, but only just so as a man that wants not to focus on what festers in Verona– one that clearly still clings to the beauty of the day to day. “There is so much violence and decay in the world–” He pauses to shake his head as if he can cast out the past few months from his head. “–So much darkness. But, I don’t think we should let ourselves be consumed by the ugliness of it in our day to day lives.” His hand gestures towards the food, then he grins wider as he raises his hand to gesture towards the view. “We should enjoy it: the beauty of the day. Now, please. Let’s not put this food to waste, hm?”

Extras: If you have anything else you’d like to include (further headcanons, an inspo tag, a mock blog, etc), feel free to share it here! This is OPTIONAL.

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[sandshadow9]

VS

Make it make sense Tui. Does she like sparkly things or not???