closed starter · for tippi @venettus
location · in the kitchen, judge's house
" which color is your favorite ? " judge asked out of the side of his mouth, motioning grandly to an array of green and blue squares haphazardly painted on the otherwise empty kitchen wall. though he'd never confess such a thing — as he wasn't one to divulge what he didn't have to — he valued tippi's opinion more than most people’s. he trusted her taste, and her bartending skills, in a way he only could compare to that of a man trusting his wife to know what's best for him. it was that craving for feminine influence that often had him so enticed by the blonde's company. " if you lived here, which one would you want to wake up to every morning while you're making coffee ? " words are half frozen from the large bite of strawberry ice cream still melting on his tongue.
''between the two? perhaps green.'' unhurried and amused, tippi stretches out the words like bubblegum in her red-rimmed mouth, languishing in the simplicity of his query. she watches him the way one watches a film, with her chin propped up in her palm, ice cream at hand, and eyes fixed on his face — a face that could very well belong to any acclaimed western motion picture. ''if i lived here, well, i suppose i'd want to add a lot more. first golden tile joints. then, an additional window so i could always gaze out at the sea, but what i'd want the most is a spacious balcony.'' for a moment, she swears, she's walking on the firmament, flimsily switching between reality and imagination, only to realize that her thoughts have steered her in a new direction. ''i think i should buy a house. a very big house.''
THE TOWN MARKET ft. manon — OPEN ! CAPPING AT 5 REPLIES ( 1 / 5 ) .
fingers skimmed every object, the intentional move to feel the weight of every trinket atop their palm — touch : it was how they decided to move through the world, omitting most sound in favor of the grounding feeling of something more tactile. the myriad of choice seemed to stump them, surely walking into a bustling market on a weekend, no list, no inspiration in mind, wasn't the best idea. but, alas, manon was here, continuing the incessant journey of finding something, anything to liven up the bleak, salt-bitten metal of their new keeper's dwellings — a singular poster of the regional flora and a smattering of random postcards didn't suffice any longer. “ what do you have in - in your hand ? ” an abrupt interjection, hopefully ingested with grace by the other. “ 's pretty. you - you should get it. is it somethin' v-vintage ? ”
clad in her favourite doll-like pastel blue, in a dress that forces a certain posture or else it simply won't look good, tippi stands just far enough from the market stalls to prevent a crowd from forming. on days like these, when her sleek shoes and hands aren't caked with mud and garnished with dirt, she finds herself meandering, or merely escaping, for she's always believed that the two verbs were each other's synonyms, marked by their exquisite lack of definite purpose. one gloved hand, in lace no less, extends forward, reaching for what appears to be a compact mirror in the shape of a golden seashell, coated with flecks of the past. ''oh this, darling?'' she says, courteousness permeating her every word. ''if i'm not wrong, i think it's a vintage givenchy powder mirror. obviously, it could be just a cheap imitation, but i won't find out unless i take it home with me. '' the first step would be to try to pry it open. ''what are you looking for? ''
SETTING / SOMETIME BEFORE MIDNIGHT, WHEN DUST BEGINS TO SETTLE AND COAT EVERY POLISHED SURFACE, SEPULCHRAL SILENCE IS TARNISHED BY THE SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS, IN THE HEART OF TANYA B. HEADY MUSEUM.
''i'm glad you could make it.'' tippi greets @phantmheart from a visibly short distance, though it's far from a proper hello and a loving embrace one would expect, hovering still over a display case that had been cleaned only mere hours ago, dismayed and nearly distracted by the new layer of dust. ''we had such a busy day today, which is why i was forced to call you this late.'' at last, lacking remorse and professing no culpability, her green eyes find his, peeling themselves away from the latest exhibition. she didn't even have to look up. she knew it was amir — only by the cadence of his steps.
''but ruining your beauty sleep might just be worth it if you follow me.'' there's natural but involuntary excitement coating her tone that she forcefully masks, attempting to snag his attention with a smile that nearly reaches her round cheeks — it's like putting sugar coating on your favorite sweets. unhurried but amused, she holds out her hand for him to take, opening her mouth to say, ''the truth is that i need your help with something.''
𝐖𝐇𝐎 ? open , @kilmerstarters , capping at 4/5 !
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 ? hawthorne inn.
there's a storm raging outside . the wind screams like it's tearing the world apart , and the drum of raindrops against the window are more unsettling than calming . romeo knows that if he looks outside , all he'll see is gray nothingness , thick fog stretching across the coastal town . his feet shift lazily as he lingers near the door , pondering his next decision — stay cooped up in this gloomy old place , or go out and pretend he's someone who cares enough to seem productive ? right now , he's leaning towards the former . his hair's gonna get ruined under the downpour , and . . . he catches sight of it then . it's a little kitschy and old , a stick umbrella patterned with florals and laying abandoned by the inn's main entrance . it's not his , but it might as well be , right ? finders keepers , and all that . he picks it up , testing the mechanism ; it opens with a satisfying snap . " lucky me . "
he's about to step out into the rain when a door down the hall creaks open . rome freezes , umbrella still poised in the air , sheepish grin stretching onto his lips . caught red-handed . " oh . . . uh , this yours ? "
the sound of rain, more familiar than her mother's voice ( or perhaps it is a mother's voice ), changes its pace from metrical to arrhythmic, rising like the sea into a deafening crescendo, which is just loud enough to snag her attention away from the half-empty page of her newest book. a change of scenery, an antidote for artistic drought, should've been the answer to all her prayers, but four hours later and with only three new lines written, she knows it's a lost cause. so she abandons her seat and her third, lipstick-stained, cup of coffee, snatching only her laptop for this impromptu, hurried exit. it's at the door, as she juts her chin forward, that she notices the absence of her umbrella, or rather, how it subtly landed in the hands of another. ''it is, or i suppose, it was.'' crafted in the 60s, purchased for a fine penny, and carefully hand-selected by tippi at a vintage store, one would be shocked to know just how much she loathes its yellow colour, which had originally looked quite different under the store's lights. ''listen, we can walk together to my place and once i'm home, i'll let you keep it. it's a fair deal, isn't it?''
⟡ — IS THAT TIPPI SAINT-JAMES I JUST SAW WALKING AROUND KILMER’S COVE? I HEARD THEY’RE A RESIDENT WHO’S BEEN HERE FOR FIVE YEARS. IT SLIPPED MY MIND, SINCE THEY JUST TEND TO HANG OUT AT THE CLIFFS . AT FACE VALUE, THEY’RE SAID TO BE DEVOUT AND GENTLE, BUT I DON’T KNOW… SOME PEOPLE HAVE SAID THEY CAN BE QUITE STUBBORN AND ESCAPIST. JUST DON’T GET ON THEIR BAD SIDE, I GUESS! DON’T TELL THEM I TOLD YOU THIS, BUT I’VE HEARD THEY DO BELIEVE IN ALL THE GHOST STORIES AROUND TOWN. WHO KNOWS WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS FOR THEM!
BIRTH NAME tippi elizabeth saint-james. KNOWN AS tips, much to her chagrin. AGE thirty. BIRTHDATE feb 2nd. GENDER + PRONOUNS cis woman + she/her. ZODIAC CHART aquarius sun OCCUPATION marine biologist & paleontologist, currently curator of tanya b. heady museum of natural history LANGUAGES english, spanish, latin
HEIGHT 5′ 5″ . HAIR blonde, styled in soft, voluminous curls that frame her face EYE COLOR green. HOMETOWN nantucket, massachusetts ACCENT a local accent of eastern new england english. SCENT mixture of honeysuckle, sicilian lemon and sea notes LIVING ARRANGEMENTS tba, living with her fiance PETS a white ragdoll that most resembles a ball of snow, named shelby CHARACTER INSPIRATION kya clarke ( where the crawdads sing ), danielle flinders ( submergence ), hedy lamarr ( for just how smart she was ) + marilyn monroe ( for her impeccable style )
an only child of two esteemed professors, a chemist, and a historian, weaned on science and the beauty of logic. an only child easily grows into a lonesome girl, especially on an island such as nantucket, which is no wider in length than the length of a dreamer's wish.
much of her childhood, she spent alone, raising herself in the family backyard, which was abutted on a body of water, whilst her parents traveled to and fro the mainland, too busy with work to truly and fully commit to their daughter.
say what you wish, as one always does, but it's the only sort of life that tippi has ever known. down by the water, where there are strong currents and shifting sands, she teaches herself how to swim and follow the riptide, and the first love that she finds, she finds with her magical touch, in the shape of seashells and conches — but here's the thing, everything is magic, except to the magician.
under her father's magnifying glass imported from england, she finds the first traces of an old life, but if only that were enough. she ought to know more and she ought to know the best.
at nineteen, she uproots herself in hopes of attending stanford, taking part in a dual degree program, which for she sacrifices and gives every inch and pound of herself. four years later, at only twenty-three, she begins her pursuit of her master's degree, and it's an odyssey that culminates at twenty-five, when she sinks her pearly teeth deep into the idea of a doctorate.
in need of something new, something better and entirely bored of california, she stumbles upon kilmer cove on her way back home, and the rest, as they say, is rust and seashells.
tippi's been a resident of kilmer cove for over five years now, and four of them, she spent working on her phd. she finally earned it last year, when she also got her promotion and became the curator of tanya b. heady museum of natural history. before that, she was one of many researchers working at the museum.
she has also published two books. one about the earliest known vertebrates and one children's book which is devoted and dedicated to the most notable extinct sea creatures. she sketched them herself of course.
she's currently working on her third book, though its theme and content are unknown to the public just yet — she's rather preoccupied with heading the museum and also planning her wedding.
loves an icy bath, you can catch her swimming always, regardless of the season and the weather.
known for her incredible personal sophistication and magnetism filled with warmth, though it's hard to get to know her beyond the surface. it's not you, it's the years she dedicated to science.
surprisingly a believer, but in a way that a scientist is. there's something that exists between people that just can't be so easily explained.
usually looks like she stepped out of a different era, since her style is greatly inspired by marilyn. that is, when she isn't knees-deep in mud.
her cat shelby is five and a half years old and tippi got her in hopes of avoiding further loneliness in kilmer cover, but that turned out quite differently in the end.
