PLOTTING CALL. I’ll be on to do replies in a few hours, but if anyone wants to plot with Romy, Nic, or Ayala or just chat in the meantime, like this or message me (Maya#0978 on Discord)!Â
jim just got done with another producing meeting that didn’t go quite so well. there were so many people in the music industry that wanted to do the easy-cheesy pop-star thing and that was just not jim’s style. he’d yet to meet a real down to earth artist since he started producing 2 years ago. he was headed back home to eat when a dog stopped right in front of him and started wagging his tail. “mind if i pet them?” jim grinned at the woman.
“Go ahead, they’re very friendly,” Romy replied with a smile. She doted on her dogs, and in return they were a very affectionate pair, although some people thought they were big and intimidating.
             THE climate in New York had ascended, as accustomed in the summer, the heat in its persistence, spreading throughout the cavernous city as if it could coat every building, person and tree, but in the morning, a gentle breeze, Mother Nature’s way of awakening the east coast, tumbled throughout, a few strands of mocha-coloured hair wavering in the wind as she sat on the park bench — her park bench, of course, it wasn’t really hers, but she claimed ownership of it since she was there, practically every morning and kept it relatively clean, free of any hooligans that wanted to stick their gum on its surface; the New York Times situated on her lap as she skimmed through the obituaries. Not that she was searching for anyone in particular, but she thought people lived such interesting lives that she wasn’t apart of, so she enjoyed hearing other people’s stories, of course, this was a much more morbid sense, perhaps she picked that up from her wife. Her gaze diverted towards a dog that was causing a commotion, a face of, what she presumed a goddess, a modern day one, as if she could forge her features from marble, etch out every curve, every vein, and immortalise her for the world to witness — Romy Leung. “Hey stranger,” she responded, “well, my coffee machine broke, so I didn’t think it was, but I think it’s beginning to perk up.”Â
Romy’s eyes lit up when they fell on the occupant of the park bench, her preoccupations having temporarily disappeared from her mind when she registered Florienne’s presence. The dogs, eagerly wagging their tails, seemed thrilled to see the familiar face as well. “Yeah?” She said, walking over and taking a seat next to Ford. “Well, why don’t you come back to my place and let me make you a cup of coffee? I’ll try to make your morning really good.”
it truly wasn’t all that early, but from wren’s perspective, it might as well have been 5am. not even the coffee in her grasp could save her and her sour mood. the girl —disheveled as ever in appearance— only met the other’s chipper morning greeting with a frown and an unenthusiastic, “sure.” however, after a few beats of silence, recognition set in. eyes wide and suddenly more alert, wren was quickly back-peddling. “hold on, i know you— not to be that person, but i love your work.” she was suddenly a far cry from the unapproachable version of herself just moments ago. “your photography was some of the first that i really loved.”
Romy was about to roll her eyes at the stranger’s rudeness and move on, but was surprised by the abrupt shift in the woman’s demeanor, raising an eyebrow. “Thank you, I appreciate it,” she replied graciously. “My photography isn’t usually what people mention, so it’s quite nice to hear that.”
Taking her morning run, dogs in tow, was one of Romy’s favorite parts of the day — it gave her the peace and quiet to think. Too wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn’t realize there was someone else nearby until one dog slowed and the other stopped, tugging on their leashes and almost toppling her. Looking up, she gave the other person a faint smile. “Good morning.”
âšś — hey, is that Gemma Chan? oh no, that’s just Romy Leung, the thirty-seven year old cis female who is a filmmaker, and live up in Brooklyn. i’ve heard they are bisexual, and brilliant + generous, but the bad tongues say she can be critical + a workaholic. they are known around new york as the auteur, but only time will tell if that’s true. the interplay of light and shadow, swiss watches, sunlight streaming through open windows.Â
Romy comes from a humble background. The Leungs had the necessities but nothing more, and her single mother worked herself to the bone to provide for her children. Still, it was a loving home, and she encouraged her three children to follow their passions.
For Romy, that was always film. Beginning with her family’s twice monthly trips to the theater, she knew she wanted to make movies. A second hand super 8 camera became her most prized possession.
(tw: car accidents, death)Â When she was ten, her mother and older sister were killed in a car accident, following which she and her brother were went to live with an aunt and uncle.
(tw: PTSD) Her teenage years were hell for Romy. The combination of her untreated PTSD from the car accident, combined with her already fraught relationship with her aunt and uncle was a bad combination. After she went to college, she never spoke to them again.
She began her career as a photographer (which shows in her later work) and also occasionally made experimental short films. Romy’s feature debut was a self-financed microbudget film that won the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance.
Her second and third films were small (1-10 mil range) arthouse indies that were critically acclaimed and established Cosima as a distinctive and important new director.
In 2016 or 2017, she created a popular high concept prestige scifi drama. It’s one of those shows that has a big fan base and there’s always thinkpieces/theories/analysis of it. The second season premieres this year.
Her fourth movie was released last year. While it had a lot in common with her previous work, it ended up being a genuine horror hit. The mainstream attention also lead to awards love - it was nominated for several oscars and won two or three, including best original screenplay for Romy.
In related news, she’s a workaholic. Just absolutely loves her job, but also doesn’t know how to stop and hates boredom. And she just doesn’t know how to relax properly.
Very determined and perfectionistic. She’ll get what she wants and she’ll get it done right if it kills her. Romy has high standards which she expects the people she works with to meet, although she’s usually more critical of herself than anyone else. (As you can expect, she exerts a lot of control over her productions, having acted as writer, director, producer, and cinematographer on all of her movies.)
She’s very curious and has a wide range of interests, from art to science to history. Honestly, she’s a complete nerd.
Doesn’t suffer fools or assholes, and can come off a bit intimidating, although she’s a big softie around the people she’s close to.
Some wanted connections:
Friends!
People she’s worked with in some capacity
Exes
I’ll probably come up with more later but I tend to be better at brainstorming
snowghoul
prguitarman
origamiaround
discoholicmusic
izzy806
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
kianamaiart
germansingergirl
2087
