Fan Forum - View Single Post - Tabula Rasa || A PY/MYOC Roleplay

degausser · 11-28-2015, 11:57 PM

OOC: Pammie, I'll take Gemma for Alexandre.

George
The current company looks fine to me. Much and more could be read into that statement. Outside of making the observation, he didn't put any more thought into it, never one for being presumptive. Nor was he a philosopher, much less the existentialist. Skeptical he could be though, and he eyed the mysterious beauty with careful curiosity as she leaned back into the chair, the leather groaning quietly beneath her. He couldn't be sure that her question hadn't been rhetorical, so he merely quirked a brow and shrugged.

But the answer was obvious. Everyone was always alone at the end of the day.

Her frankness struck him as being rather forward. The times, they are a changin' or so a willowy voice declared at the back of his head. The youngest Bellamy girl, no doubt. Strange, he hadn't thought of her or the rest of the Bellamys in a while. "George Abernathy," he offered reciprocally. As to the hotel he could only glance around distractedly, idly dabbing the towel in his hand along his sweat soaked wife beater. "Yes, I suppose it is rather convenient in that regard," he said in a tone that suggested he did not share her enthusiasm. Muted curiosity danced on his face as he glanced back over at his new acquaintance. Too convenient, he might have added, though if George learned anything from his time at Helmsley it was to withhold a potentially unwanted opinion with unfamiliar company.

"And what is it the hotel provides for you?"

Amelia
This place has a little of everything but I haven't run into Bowser, yet. She smiled, a brief, tepid smile that faded just as quickly as it materialized on her face. "The day is still young," was her attempt at being witty. At the accusation of being svelte Amelia could only glance down at her ensemble, her brow wrinkled in confusion. Svelte? What about her was svelte exactly? She was skinny, yes, but nothing of her skinny black jeans and terribly cliche Beatles t-shirt from Target was elegant. Amelia nearly piped up to verbalize her confusion when she realized the girl was simply observing that someone such as herself did not look to be the sort that was even remotely familiar with video games.

I've been known to be all about that bass. "I don't under-" Or the treble. "What?" She shook her head, the question more a coda to her own confusion than anything else.

Her fingers absentmindedly brushed along the small pouch hanging at her hip, a flush creeping into the small apple of her cheeks. What could prompt a svelte wiccan such as herself to brave the perils of the Mushroom Kingdom? Why, only a quest of the utmost importance of course! Some of the most common herbs she worked with could be found in the kitchen pantry. Basil and rosemary should be easy enough to come by. Maybe if she were lucky she'd find some sage growing in an outdoor garden, assuming there was one. Yet the more she thought about it, the more boring it sounded. What would the girl think she was trying to do? Make some sort of poultry rub?

"Restlessness," she said, deciding to be honest. "I was tired of sitting around in my room all day trying to figure out why ... how ..." Amelia trailed off, thinking it sounded crazy just now as she was saying it out loud. "... how we all got here. And how to get out." Surely she and her classmates weren't the only ones trapped? Her lips parted to voice her inquiry when she finally noticed a queer line of lemons leading away from the girl down the hallway. Amelia blinked once, then twice, glancing between the copper lined lemons, the girl on the floor and back again.

"What are you doing with those lemons?" It had come out far more abruptly than intended. "I mean, uh ... are they connected to your phone?" And then it was as if the sun appeared from behind a wall of clouds, blanketing Amelia in an epiphany. "You're trying to tap into the wi-fi, aren't you?"