04-28-2018, 07:35 PM
felix. he/him. 20.
[table]
Roque Poussey ✟
Flintlock Lodge ♋️
Thirty Three ▲
Roque was exploring. He knew he was allowed to be here--so why not? the Frenchman knew he couldn't really get anything done until he knew this place inside and out, and quite frankly, there was a lot that needed doing. He supposed the cold weather kept people busy enough, but for goodness sake--did anyone do laundry? He'd found one room--someone had tried to lock it--and he'd found an old musty coat that smelled like it hadn't been washed in years. the box of dusty comic books and the couple of children's toys in the room gave him pause--especially since the clothing had clearly belonged to an adult, and Roque had felt a pang. He quickly had left, leaving it locked this time, though he kept the key he'd found on the dresser inside. Now he had a secret, and he wondered if he'd find out whose it had belonged to. No one had been in there in a few weeks, he guessed, or there'd be--hopefully--less dust.
As it was, though, his own room had been extremely dusty. Grateful as he was, having found a room above the kitchen, he needed to do a lot of much needed housekeeping. Unfortunately, on his quest for a broom, he kept finding more to do--dust was everywhere. Windows were smeary, and the whole place looked so--old. He eyed the trim of the walls with suspicion, making his way through the halls. He wasn't making his way to the kitchen yet--only because he was worried of what he'd find there. the chef really didn't want to bump into anyone, either--itching as he was to see what he could work with, mess be damned--what worried him more was that, well--inevitably, someone here cooked. And they probably didn't want to share. He couldn't assert himself if he'd just moved in, and didn't know anyone's name, to boot. Well, he knew Jo's. Barely. And her dog.
So for now--Dusting. He was in the common room, in long sweatpants and a sweatshirt--he hated the clothing options, especially since both were too big for his petite frame, but beggars couldn't be choosers and he was at least warmer like this. His hair was neatly combed and his face freshly scrubbed--he'd been so glad to wash up--and now he was moving like a hummingbird about the dining area, dusting every edge, every surface with a cloth--and feeling the relief of work rush through him, washing away anxiety and giving him a sense of purpose--enough so he had lost all sense of his surroundings, singing softly in French as he focused wholly on his chores.
As it was, though, his own room had been extremely dusty. Grateful as he was, having found a room above the kitchen, he needed to do a lot of much needed housekeeping. Unfortunately, on his quest for a broom, he kept finding more to do--dust was everywhere. Windows were smeary, and the whole place looked so--old. He eyed the trim of the walls with suspicion, making his way through the halls. He wasn't making his way to the kitchen yet--only because he was worried of what he'd find there. the chef really didn't want to bump into anyone, either--itching as he was to see what he could work with, mess be damned--what worried him more was that, well--inevitably, someone here cooked. And they probably didn't want to share. He couldn't assert himself if he'd just moved in, and didn't know anyone's name, to boot. Well, he knew Jo's. Barely. And her dog.
So for now--Dusting. He was in the common room, in long sweatpants and a sweatshirt--he hated the clothing options, especially since both were too big for his petite frame, but beggars couldn't be choosers and he was at least warmer like this. His hair was neatly combed and his face freshly scrubbed--he'd been so glad to wash up--and now he was moving like a hummingbird about the dining area, dusting every edge, every surface with a cloth--and feeling the relief of work rush through him, washing away anxiety and giving him a sense of purpose--enough so he had lost all sense of his surroundings, singing softly in French as he focused wholly on his chores.
[url=http://"http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=16439"]▼ ShimmeringWitchy[/url]
[align=center][div style="Width: 495px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px;"][spoiler= information // 4/28]★★★ // ROQUEFORT M. POUSSEY. BORN 6/26/2024.
 genderqueer. flintlock lodge. no rank. oocly created 9/1/15.
 main account || full bio
★★★ // Jack Poussey X Colby Brodeur .
 ½ of nothing. no crush. queer. not actively looking.
 desperately wants a cat, but has no pets.
★★★ // 5'6''. 130lbs. 6/10 HEALTH.
description of appearance here.
 reference links here. include voice-claim.
current injures;; none.
permanent injures;; bite scar on left shoulder. rasp in his voice and occasional pain swallowing.
★★★ // INFJ. HUFFLEPUFF. INTROVERTED.
description of personality here.
tropes;; list tropes here.
★★★ // HAS SMALL SHOULDER BAG, ONE SET OF CLOTHES
 always wears a rosary under his shirt, rarely visible.
 bag holds first aid supplies and photographs--rations if he's found any lately.
★★★ // HAS NO WEAPONS. CAN POWERPLAY PEACEFUL. 0/10 TRAINED.
 will run if attacked or provoked, if caught will beg before fighting.
 has no training in any kind of combat.
 @ROQUE when attacking.
 open to capture and maim, but ask me first.
stats;; strength: 2/10. agility: 3/10. endurance: 3/10. accuracy: 2/10. luck: 3/10.[/spoiler]