see me, feel me

"Now I’ll tell you about something that happened two years later. I’ll probably talk a bit about some of the stuff that happened in those two years as well. I’d like to pick the best route possible as to avoid getting sidetracked, but as I already said, I’m not great with making choices. Hopefully you’ll bear with me."                                        --the lateral biography of the turks evan townshend indie - selective - private read all pages thoroughly!

[bastardiized-blog]

@thronelessprince answered:

A careful glance, one just enough to appraise the origin of the inquiry, but one that soon after grew disinterested and refocused elsewhere. “And exactly what is it you are looking for? ShinRa can be quite the collection and such a general desire can hardly be taken seriously.”

[Of course that didn’t work. Why did he think it was going to? Bluffing only works for him about ten percent of the time anyway, so how in the world did he expect it to go smoothly here?

Dammit.

The blond clenches his fists out of agitation, pocketing them immediately as he does so. Can’t really be too frustrated, even though here we are.]

... I wanted information on my mother. [Which isn’t entirely a lie. It’s incomplete, though, and he’s sure that Rufus won’t buy just that; after all, Evan already ‘knew’ his mother. How could a document about her salary and job responsibilities add anything to the picture?]

And I guess on the rest of you, too. I don’t even know how many of ‘you’ there are.

[Is it just Rufus? Maybe there are a handful of other abandoned blond bastards from Midgar out there? Maybe some never even started here.

He wants to know.]

[silkendeception]

Held Accountable

[silkendeception]

He checks his watch several times between the knock and when the door eventually opens. Even without the fast-paced schedule of Shinra, Lazard naturally prefers a punctual schedule. At hearing his name – albeit incorrectly pronounced – he glances up and then pauses before his correction.

It’s not quite like looking back in time, but there something startlingly familiar about the young man before him. It’s mainly the nose and that sharp chin, but the hair and even the eyes make him think back to Rufus as a freshly minted VP.

But he keeps his opinion firmly to himself before finally offering back with carefully enunciation, “It’s Deusericus, but yes, nice to meet you as well.” He offers his hand, white glove covering up cracking skin. “And just Lazard is fine. You must be Evan Townshend. Miss Canaan said to expect you.”

Glancing inside, the house has the feel of being just tidied with a faint aroma of citrus-scented cleaners hanging in the air. “Just point me in the direction of the books and I should be able to handle it myself,” Lazard requests as he steps inside, keeping his coat on for the moment. Now a little closer, he continues sneaking little glances at Evan, the @bastardiized suspicions sinking deeper into his stomach.  

[bastardiized-blog]

[This is already an uncomfortable sign. Having lived in the slums so long, Evan’s particularly paranoid about looks from strangers. Most everyone is. Everyone’s either too sick, too tired, or too hungry to care about passersby more than the regular one-off to just make sure you’re not about to get mugged.

Anyone who tried any harder than that was some sort of threat.

...Granted, Evan’s mother got them pretty far out of the worst areas, but Evan definitely tried to make himself familiar with them when he was younger.

Attempting to keep his expression neutral and not let on to his growing paranoia - it’s probably nothing anyway; this guy looks like he had nothing to do with that kind of stuff in his life, so there’s no way it’s anything to be worried about - the blond glances over toward the table.]

She said she left them over there. ...’Said’ being the important word.

[He’s walking over there, moving aside nonsense like a discarded shawl and piles of unsorted mail to find their balance books and binder of receipts. Naturally it isn’t anywhere near there, probably forgotten in Kyrie’s haste to get around this morning.

He bites his lip for a second, holding down a sigh.]

...Yeah. Hold on just a minute; I’ll go get them. ‘m sorry for the trouble.

[Thank god he tidied up in there. He can get to the bookshelf and back out with them in hand in only a few minutes, rather than a few hours. Just takes a quick dusting of the tops, and he’s satisfied enough with their abject failure to hand them over to the accountant.

Good grief. He must think they’re a wreck.]

[bastardiized-blog]

Character Information Sheet

Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. If you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own! When you’re done, tag other people to do the same!


tagged by: @silkendeception like twenty years ago, my goodness.

» NAME: evan townshend. 
» AGE: as of advent children’s timeline, he’s nineteen. 
» BIRTHDAY: canonically, it’s some time in december, since he said his birthday was ‘in a week’ no more than a few days before the plate drop of sector seven. birthyear’s [ μ ] - εγλ 1990. 
» SPECIES: human. » GENDER: male. 
» SEX: male. » ORIENTATION: heteromantic, and somewhere on the asexual spectrum. he’s so awkward that he can’t even peg much about himself, nor is he really educated about any of that in the first place. he just assumes he’s 'normal.’ » PROFESSION: one of the detectives of the mirielle detective agency. he’s typically the one present to take notes on the case


PHYSICAL ASPECTS
 » HAIR: blond, on the dirty-brown side. » EYES: bright blue.  » SKIN: he’s pretty pale. 
» HEIGHT: very tall; he’s about 6′0″ or so. » WEIGHT: about 160 lbs, depending. he might not eat very well, but he cares enough about his appearance to put some muscle on and try to keep up with it, even if it’s just in the form of regular daily labor.


FAMILY 
» SIBLINGS: rufus shinra and lazard deusericus, both half brothers. one’s deceased. » PARENTS: annette townshend, mother. president shinra, father. both are deceased. » GRANDPARENTS: none that he knows of. granted, he could find records about the shinra grandparents if he cared to look, but annette’s parents never met him. likely, they never wanted to after knowing their daughter got knocked up with ‘no idea’ who the father was. they likely disowned her after that. 
» OTHER RELATIVES: none that he knows of. » ANY PETS?: not at current. but when he was younger, he had a cat named grey.

SKILLS
 » PHYSICAL PROWESS: he’s neither strong or especially muscular, so there isn’t much he has to brag about there. he’s just got his height for him, so hey if you need that top-shelf tupperware, there you go. 
» ABILITIES: although incredibly unpolished, he’s fairly quick on his feet. like his elder brothers, he has a sharp mind, so he doesn’t need to spend much time formulating a plan when he’s actually in action. impulse usually takes him pretty far. however, his poor aim, average strength and speed, and tendency to reevaluate his solutions over and over again really muck that up. » HOBBIES: he’s kind of gone on record saying that he doesn’t bother much with hobbies; but he gets so much satisfaction from fully finishing work or chores that it’s almost like that’s his main sort of ‘hobby.’ kind of funny that his leisure activities are the exact opposite.


TRAITS
 —— POSITIVE ——  capable, loyal, hardworking, modest, independent, cleanly, resourceful, frugal, quiet.

—— NEGATIVE —— indecisive, contradictory, stubborn, shortsighted, opinionated, negative, complaintive, skeptical, impulsive, sarcastic, confidential, insecure, tactless, uncooperative, apathetic, clumsy, fake.


LIKES
 » COLORS: black, primarily. he likes dark, strong colors and anything that brings an image of toughness to mind. » SMELLS: he gets wistful and a little sad at the smell of cake and bakeries. leather’s a comforting scent, and things like oil and dust too-- stuff that smells like ‘work’. alternatively, at home, if it doesn’t smell like a hospital flooded with soapy flowers and lemons, it’s not clean enough. » FOOD: he isn’t very picky; but if it’s homemade, he’ll appreciate it far more and actually be more open to try it. » DRINKS: coffee, preferably black or just with sugar. he’ll drink water if there’s nothing else, and sweet, cold drinks are nice as a quick reward. 
» ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES?:  he’s got no tolerance for them! they either feel rough down his throat, they taste terrible, or both.


OTHER DETAILS 
» SMOKES?: he tried once to seem tough and cool, but he couldn’t handle the smoke and never tried again after the ridicule. 
» DRUGS?: nope. he’s a clean kid, despite the crew he hangs out with. » DRIVER LICENSE?: not at all, but he taught himself to drive. or he does when he leaves the city, at least. typically he won’t have that skill in threads. 
» EVER BEEN ARRESTED?: nope, though sometimes he wishes he had been. adds to his cred and all. but he knows that at the same time it would’ve screwed him up if it went down that path. what a weenie.

[bastardiized-blog]

// so when i made this blog i was totally gung-ho about bothering all of the rufii i could find.

and then i remembered, midway through day one, that most rufii - most ffvii fans in general even - don’t know about the lateral turks. TINY WHOOPS ON MY PART.

i mean, that’s not why i haven’t been here. roleplaying’s been super hard lately when i’ve even had time to do it and just no muses have been here. it’s taken weeks to just get my rufus muse back. so no worries there. i just needed a big ol’ break.

though that does not fix the stupid problem LMAO.

if you see this, do my a favor and like the post - i’ll be reblogging it a few times throughout the week if i remember to - just to let me know that you’re chill with me bothering you with this guy and/or that you’ve got some kind of idea about the novel.

I JUST DON’T WANT TO CAUSE PROBLEMS OR BE USELESS.

[silkendeception]

Held Accountable

[bastardiized-blog]

silkendeception

Billing yourself as a former Shinra employee helped somewhat with finding work around Edge. Holding back information of exactly position he held and why he was fired helped even more. And Lazard could use all the help possible – in the wake of Geostigma, clear prejudices remained against anyone who looked visibly ill. No matter how emphatically he assured that his condition was not contagious, some simply would not be swayed.

So his freelancing continued, picking up whatever temp jobs he could manage. In a number of ways, it wasn’t so different from making ends meet back in the Slums during his youth. He couldn’t really afford to refuse anyone with money enough to pay him and that included the many small independent businesses that sprung up in the shadows of Shinra.

Today, it was the Mirielle Detective Agency in need of a… decently reputable accountant to balance their @bastardiized books. Walking up the steps of the old converted house, he glanced over at the hand-painted sign and the slogan “We Read the Lifestream,” musing it over before his first tentative knock.

[He’s already sour. Even though he does feel a little guilty for it, he’s still very much agitated that he’s been the one left to handle this temporary hire. It’s Kyrie’s house, for crying out loud, and Leslie’s better with people. But out of everyone, they left it to him today?

Come on with that.

Still, he finds himself attempting to spruce up the parts of the house that aren’t ‘decorated for the aesthetic,’ namely the furniture in the back room covered in pounds upon pounds of Kyrie’s laundry, all to settle that little anxious domestic itch. ‘Company shouldn’t be greeted by a messy house,’ and with Evan having spent most of his young life trying his damnedest to keep a good house for his never-resting mother, the opinion hasn’t really died off.

At least when customers come in, they never see this side of the deal. Granted, this accountant shouldn’t need to leave the main room, but Evan concedes to himself that he’d still be doing this regardless. It helps his nerves, whatever other reason he tells himself. And he definitely needs that chill pill.

Not like it lasts for long. Once that knock sounds, he sighs to himself and moves to answer it real slow, figuring it’d have to be the accountant. It’s about that time, at least. ...If it’s anyone else, oh well.

Putting on his ‘business face,’ the young detective gets himself in order before opening the heavy old door.]

Nice to see you. You must be Mr. ... Deusericus? [Even now, after all the practice he put into trying to say that, it still sounds funny on his tongue. Probably said it wrong. Awkwardly, he fidgets with his hat, already screwing up the whole mood they try to keep for this place.]