THROUGH ADVERSITY ✯✯ MEETING, 4/29 - 5/5

Coffee was a smell he'd always be able to follow; and when Roque had gotten up that morning--not after sleeping, but simply curling up in blankets he was ever-so-grateful to and praying at the foot of his bed--he'd realized a few hours in that someone was baking. Still having been too nervous to poke his nose into the kitchen for fear of encroaching on someone's territory, he was filled with excitement and worry--but most notably, hunger. Still, he knew whoever it was wouldn't be done for a while, so he'd gone out to the green house--his favorite place to relax now, though he knew once he got a glimpse into where they did the cooking, he'd probably feel just as at home in there. So..maybe it'd been on his mind for a few days. But finally--after watering the herbs and flowers--even some vegetables--that were growing faithfully, he headed back in--and was welcomed with hot coffee and warm baked goods.

He only saw, now, the little notice for a meeting--so they had meetings. that was nice, really--and whoever wrote the sign clearly knew how to wield a pen. He liked that. Quietly, Roque moved in--pouring coffee, and raising a brow at the muffins--they looked good, but...he was sure he'd find something to improve. He glanced over to Josie, not quite so wide-eyed and frightened as he'd felt before, but still....wary, as he sat down, making sure he wasn't too close to another human, sipping at his coffee with a happy sigh and winding his fingers into his shawl, keeping as warm as possible.

In some ways, just hearing murmurs and Josie's voice was a comfort; he could close his eyes and imagine a family, a home. Perhaps this place could become that. there was a lot to do and he only barely felt comfortable surviving, let alone...working, making this place his in his own way--but perhaps. It was warm, his stomach wasn't gnawingly empty. He was having a hard time finding something harsh to say about her muffins; perhaps he'd underestimated her. Whether that was good or bad was yet to be seen--at least if she'd been awful he'd feel good about taking over the kitchen. At long last, he decided they were perhaps just the tiniest bit bland--but even that, he knew, was a stretch.

then he listened--and with each sentence, each bit of news, his interest grew, and he leaned in. Bringing...their own food to the meetings? How so? He didn't have any that didn't come from the lodge's kitchens--was it a free for all? Were there rations? He'd have to ask, but...he didn't want to sound bossy, not...just yet.

Northstar and the Badlands caused a pang in his stomach, and Roque's features grew dark when she mentioned leaving. that couldn't be good--he had doubts it would be for any productive purpose, and with Badlands involved--well. they were young--and hopefully they were looking out for any risks. In the meantime, he'd be here, of course--but....with who? He'd only really met Josie and Ellie, and ... that one small young man who'd threatened him with a knife.

His outlook brightened soon after, when Josie turned to making over the Lodge. It could use it--and here, he wanted to be of assistance, for sure--hopefully she would let him, and he even scooted his chair in a bit, eyes bright. A patrol and guns--no, no, not for him, but...
First aid. He could help, with some of it--he knew how to clean wounds and he knew how to take care of someone choking or sick--though surely someone knew more than he did?

Roque really wasn't expecting his name to be called, and immediately--like a deer in headlights, he stared; all his questions and buzzing ideas lost to the wind. "Je ne--excuse moi?" He blinked, swallowing, glancing around as if--someone else could possibly be named Roque. "I don't...understand, I--I don't know what you mean--by...branches?" He swallowed, forcing calm. She thought he'd been a help--and could help more? A promotion meant trust--and maybe... "Can I cook? Is--I mean, if....that is...something I can help with?" He paused, one hand on his chest, thumbing over his rosary. "And I--perhaps not...a lot, but--I do know...first aid, if--I mean, very, very basic, but.."

Lestat wandered over, not really interested in what was going on, but having nothing else to really do. He leaned against the wall and halfheartedly listened. If Claudia didn't show (which was always a possibility, considering she rarely made appearances during the daylight due to her condition), he'd probably have to repeat the information he heard here. At the news of having to redecorate, though, his interest piqued. He had quite expensive tastes and quite enjoyed likening his surroundings to his fancies. He could definitely help in those regards. Then there was a promotion of someone who he didn't know. He threw a glance at the older man, hearing his exclaims in French, quirking a brow. Another French speaker? Stat was a native Frenchman, coming from a place of nobility and high class. He turned his attention back to Josie, half-smiling. "Understood, mademoiselle," he said.

[spoiler=BLOODLUST -✧- tags][size=8pt]WALKING, WAITING ✧ general
NAME ; lestat de lioncourt
- NICKNAMES ; les, stat
GENDER ; male
- PRONOUNS ; he/him
SEXUALITY ; bisexual with male leanings
AGE ; 24
- BIRTHDAY ; november 7th
ALLIANCE ; flintlock lodge
- RANK ; member

ALONE WITHOUT A CARE ✧ appearance
HEIGHT ; 6'0"
WEIGHT ; 135lbs
DESCRIPTION ; lestat has thick, curly blond hair that falls to his shoulders. his skin is deathly white and cold. his eyes are gray that seem to absorb the colors around him, making them look blue or violet in certain lights. he's very slim and slightly taller than average, however there's faint definition of muscles under his almost translucent skin. his nose is fairly short and narrow, and his lips seem almost too full for his face.
CLOTHING ; lestat has a wildly varied wardrobe. he always looks good (usually too good for a post-apocalyptic society) because he's very into fashion. he likes wearing luxurious silks and plush fabrics, or leather and mesh. he definitely enjoys the punk movement, wearing heavy metal or rocker clothes. though, it's not uncommon for him to be sporting royal robes and high fashion outfits.
- INVENTORY ; lestat doesn't usually carry much on his person, except maybe some daggers or food. he's musically inclined and likes having instruments where he goes. he has an old violin from an old lover he took that means a lot to him.

HOPING, AND HATING ✧ personality
POSITIVE ; enthusiastic, bold, academic, fun-loving, altruistic
NEUTRAL ; fashionable, musical, attention-seeking, philosophical, moralistic
NEGATIVE ; defiant, arrogant, conceited, egotistical
MBTI ; entp
TV TROPES ; anti-hero, badass gay, character filibuster, manipulative bastard, ÃƒÂ¼bermensch
ALIGNMENT ; chaotic neutral

THINGS I CAN'T BEAR ✧ interaction + misc
DIFFICULTY LEVEL ; hard
TRAINED IN ; blades
ATTACK IN ; bold #773b53
PM [iomedae] FOR PLOTS
OPEN TO ; nonviolent powerplay
WILL CAPTURE ; WILL TORTURE ; WILL KILL[/spoiler]