#camaradcrie

[softyetintrepid]

@camaradcrie

Perhaps it was getting too cold to continue sitting under his favourite tree to read, or perhaps it was the setting sun making it too dim to see the words on the page, but - around an hour earlier than he would have usually - Prouvaire started to pack his book away, his journal following into the satchel he carried with him. He let a soft sigh out and brushed his hair back from his eyes, looking up at the patch canopy of orange and brown leaves and stretching his arms before pushing himself up from the ground, brushing dirt from his dungarees and flinging his bag over his shoulder as he started his walk home.

He pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands as he went - I must remember to bring a jacket next time - taking his usual route and hummin along to music playing on his headphones. A short distance later, a thought crossed his mind, perhaps he didn't have to return home just yet, his roommate didn't give him the quiet he needed to truly focus on writing, reading, annotating. The library was out, he had left his student card at home, plus it was out of the way. Maybe changing his routine just for the warmth of a warm drink in his hands, the ambiance of a café at this time surely wouldn't distract him too much.

He paused a moment longer before nodding to himself and heading for the café he usually stopped by on the way to classes, cosy chairs and a warm cup of tea couldn't possibly be a wrong choice to make. He felt his shoulders relax as he stepped inside and was suddenly aware of the tip of his nose being chilled, his cheeks feeling strange at the sudden temperature change, maybe it was time to move his reading inside for the winter. He took his headphones from his ears and placed his hands on the counter, waiting only a moment for someone to come and serve him.

"I fear you may sleep here." He smiled, seeing the same man who had served him several hours earlier that day, and maybe every morning that he stopped by, "How is it you always seem to be working?"

[infinitelydiverse]

@camaradcrie  /  “Evidently, I offend you just by existing, Gabriel. What is it you want me to do?”  (from Abe for Gabriel?)

      “Don’t,” Gabriel bites out. “Don’t you dare turn this around and make it seem like I’m the only one with a problem. If I’m offended by you existing,” and that isn’t it, not exactly, but it sure as hell feels that way sometimes, “then you’re just as offended by my existing. Can we at least agree on that much?”

[likehephaestionwhodied15]

@camaradcrie​ two months ago said ->  “White noise what an awful sound” (from jehan for feuilly)

Feuilly bit his lip before looking over at Jeahn. He’d not really thought this over when he’d said that Jehan could spend the night. His apartment was tiny, just the one room and well, he’d always slept with whitenoise in the back ground. It gave his brain something to focus on, to keep him grounded while he fell asleep. Otherwise his brain would try to keep working, planning for Les Amis, worrying about the Union, his job. 

“I can turn it off if you need.” Feuilly said, though he wasn’t sure he would get any sleep like that. Still he was the one who had said Jehan could spend the night, “of if you’d like something else-” Feuilly thought he might be able to live with something else, anything to keep his mind from getting away from him while he tried to sleep. Already he was forcing down thoughts of the next union meeting, the tension between those who wanted to raise union dues and those who did not, they needed  more money, he could feel a strike coming on but, well not many of them could afford to raise union dues, he certainly could not. 

[andessence]

@camaradcrie​ // starter call (for dorian)

“I think we may have met before, someplace or another.” They have not, in fact, but the insinuation of familiarity is always more comfortable (and advantageous) than the mechanical rigor of formal introduction. Hans offers the suggestion with an acknowledging nod of his head. The gesture is understated but appropriate, he gathers; this clearly isn’t royalty, just nobility. But company is company, and the more people one knows in a room the better. It is time to make a friend. “Nice to see you again, ...?” The trailing of his words asked for a name to be supplied.

[originalwizkid]

[[plotted starter for @camaradcrie

Harry had had a hard time being around Ron for the same kinds of long stretches that he had before their falling out earlier that year, no matter than they'd made up. Since the unfortunate discovery that he was expected to find a date to a ball (an incredibly intimidating prospect, considering he'd never even had the chance to go to a dance or a party before, excluding the Gryffindor victory parties), his tolerance for the Gryffindor common room had waned even further. At least most of the taunts and glares he received outside the tower had little to do with him getting a date or dancing or having to prove he could do those things in front of people. Tonight, it was clear enough that he'd been flying lowly around the quidditch pitch, his books left forgotten in the stands.

When he saw he wasn't alone, he swooped down and gave her a smile. "Hi, Luna. What brings you down here?"

[n0va-c41ne]

@camaradcrie​

“Do what?” The physician asked as he poured a glass of wine. For once, Bossuet wasn’t with him. It was just him and his new acquaintance, this Vivienne woman he had met at the bakery near the Musain. Joly’s lips were curved upward into a smile as he placed the glass in front of her and then poured one for himself. “It is possible that I did but I would need to know what you’re referring to in order to answer.”

“Suggest amputating a man’s leg after it had gotten caught under a collapsed cart,” said Vivienne. On the surface, the idea seemed ridiculous, no sane person would even consider doing something that graphic and dangerous in the streets. While the bakers she’d heard this tale from didn’t know Joly’s name, they’d said he was the short one who hung around the Musain. “You seem mild mannered enough, but looks can be deceiving.” 

[vivenjolras]

@camaradcrie → ( x )

              Several unanswered calls and texts lead to Enjolras paying Grantaire a visit to his apartment unannounced. Unless you count all those attempted forms of contact. The guy drank. A lot. Far too much for the blond’s comfort level. To which he spoke up about on multiple occasions only for the other to return to his wine. So he had to drop by to check on him. Just to make sure he was okay.

              Not the least bit surprised to stumble upon Grantaire – passed out on the floor drunk – seconds after opening the front door. He can hear some kind of noise coming from the male. Unable to make out any words, but it is a sign he’s still breathing. An audible sigh leaves him as he shuts the door behind him, approaching his friend. ❝Grantaire. Grantaire.❞ His voice rises a little when he says his name for a second time. ❝Get up. It’s three in the afternoon.❞ He’s not even going to venture a guess as to how much alcohol he has running through his system. Only that it’s enough.

[schattenwerfenkeineschatten]

1, 3, and 18 😊

@camaradcrie chose to

↳ question the mun

1. Who has been your favorite muse to play?

i understand. you found paradise in america, you had a good trade, you made a good living. the police protected you and there were courts of law. and you didn’t need a friend like me. but now you come to me and you say, “don corleone, pick a favourite.” but you don’t ask with respect. you don’t offer friendship. you don’t even think to call me godfather. instead, you come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married, and you ask me to pick a favourite.

listen, i’m a multimuse blog for a reason. but, uh, it’s cosette.

3. Are there any particular aus or plots that you’d really like to write?

any would be good. i struggle with aus because i have a habit of overcomplicating things and shooting down ideas at sight. and i must confess i don’t know how to plot. i’m very confused about the social protocol involved. don’t let this discourage you. if you want to plot and are willing to endure some fumbling, my ims are always open.

18. What makes for a great roleplay partner in your opinion?

i find myself asking that question a lot lately. when you find someone with a writing approach that complements yours, it’s one of the best feelings. i don’t think there’s a universal recipe.  obviously, you need passion and you need to be attentive. you need to be able to throw yourself into the scene and make things up as you go along, you know, as a team. which means either you read the room or you talk to the room. my roleplay partners in particular need a lot of patience and a tireless can-do attitude.