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Beautiful Now ||RP||

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1Beautiful Now ||RP|| Empty Beautiful Now ||RP|| Sat Aug 08, 2015 11:19 pm

thetinbunny

thetinbunny
Admin

Beautiful Now ||RP|| Dream-interpretation

Beautiful Now

This is the official thread for the role play Beautiful Now.
Inspired by Zedd's song Beautiful Now
Literacy: Lazy lit - Adv lit
Status: Open and Accepting


*Please respect one another in character and out of character*



Last edited by thetinbunny on Sun Aug 09, 2015 12:01 am; edited 1 time in total

2Beautiful Now ||RP|| Empty Re: Beautiful Now ||RP|| Sat Aug 08, 2015 11:47 pm

thetinbunny

thetinbunny
Admin

"Beautiful Now"

Our Story...
"..."

3Beautiful Now ||RP|| Empty Re: Beautiful Now ||RP|| Sat Aug 08, 2015 11:56 pm

thetinbunny

thetinbunny
Admin

"Beautiful Now"


Characters



  • Milan Van der Berg :: The DJ
  • Maxine Kyle :: The Private Eye
  • "Charlie" Thompson :: The disgruntled barista
  • Mateo Arechiga :: The Businessman

4Beautiful Now ||RP|| Empty CHARLIE ❣ /not charlemagne/ Tue Aug 11, 2015 5:15 am

laurel-forests

laurel-forests

Charlemagne
Charlie Thompson

Beautiful Now ||RP|| Alex211



        There were a lot of things in life that could make you resolutely bitter for a while. You lost a job, but you apply somewhere else after having a pity party with your friends who were also laid-off. You watched your girl get snatched up by some hunk in a Letterman jacket, but Shelly comes along and she’s undeniably the girl that you thought Irene was. You get beat up every day in an alley on the way to school because you think they’re tough shit, but you’re not, so you have to make up crap stories on how you were gifted those two black eyes and broken nose through your own valiance. We all have those ups and downs, but we bounce back up. It’s one of the most vital pieces of humanity; and it’s probably why when Marie Antoinette told those filthy French peasants to ‘eat cake,’ they gathered up their courage and sacked the royals and put her neck right under that beautiful guillotine. (Being honest, the phrase was probably never uttered by the so-called Austrian spy, but those dirty Third Estate farmers were still done being given the short end of the stick and did their thing.)  And, if we’re getting to the point, it’s just life. We hold grudges, but we move on with our lives and do the best with what we have… So, we’ve come to the antithesis of everything mentioned. The case with Charlemagne Thompson, whom was simply bitter about everything without change.

        It’s hard to even imagine being remotely sullen about half the things life hands you if you’re an optimistic person; however, we are at the mercy of a defeatist and the odds are forever against him. Charlie woke up mornings with the distaste of his current situation in his mouth. Said situation has been a thing of an on-going three years; four in the upcoming August. He was stuck in the same rut that claimed those golden years of his young adulthood: wake up, eat, manage the café alongside Marin, go home, watch TV, eat, and sleep. The only thing that changed during that time only happened recently when Marin brought yet another cousin into the world, so he worked the café by himself (which was sort of cool in its own respects because he’d put on music he liked that often insulted customers and that was nice). And as much as he liked to consider himself of relishing schadenfreude, he wasn’t that guy. Charlie was just a calcified piece of marshmallow. Throw him in the microwave of sunshine and babies, and he’ll be all mushy again. Except, that didn’t seem to be working all that much. His twin, Cleopatra, who bore a name similar to his own vomit-worthy concoction, tried all sorts of things like that. Heck, she adopted a kitten to see if he’d give it an affectionate scratch, but he would just vegetate in front of the TV in a relentless stupor while home. In fact, the only real thing that even got him to even move was the prospect of work.

        The month of April brought only a small influx of customers to “Spill the Beans,” the small bayside town’s only café (which sort of classified it as the best and worst café simultaneously). On any day during the week, you could find Charlie, the master of making coffee and all those awkward Italian-named beverages, in the small, but bright yellow room at 2:45pm. He was a worker bee. Today was a day when he wasn’t so peeved about any customer’s existence. For example, the week before, a girl from out of town asked if he knew where a Starbucks was; he gave her directions to a brothel on the edge of town. He didn’t know if that Uggs-wearing idiot was too stupid to follow the directions back so she could scream at him and file a report about his discourteous action, but she hadn’t appeared since which only meant that he had one less idiot to deal with. Charlie refused to promote chains, but he couldn’t refuse stupid customers for the most part. That was the closest thing he could do.

        Anyways, work was dull around this time of year unless the bay cooled down and brought in a few people wanting some hot coffee to warm their little hearts up. Today wasn’t one of those days, so it was quiet. A couple came in around noon to have a couple of crepes, but that was it. It was nice to be paid to do absolutely nothing. A smile crept onto his face as he relished the lack of chatter and the fluctuating soft pulse and sudden violent clamor that was the distinct sound of The White Rope (a band you’ve probably never heard of).

        He figured that he wouldn’t be expecting anyone the rest of the day, but it wasn’t like he was allowed to leave. As much as he found the task pointless, he was an honest guy and wouldn’t ditch the post. It just gave him time to experiment with some food and rustle up his own grub. Did he mention also could make a mean Panini? Because that’s one of his many talents.Being honest, which Charlie was, he didn’t really have many talents, or even charms. He was polite enough at work and to his family, and didn’t pursue drugs, sex, or rock ‘n’ roll. He was stubbornly reclusive, but all of his social actions were half-hearted anyways when he was forced into the position at work. He simply breathed, took the beatings he gave himself, and called it a day. And that was the life of Charlemagne Thompson.

        Well… Until now.



            OCC: Finished!! This is where Milan, Maxine, or Mateo comes in for lunch or something???? Or the 'until now' just means that something in the near future happens. Let's just get this thing going!! Also, I don't know if we're doing fancy posts or whatever, but I did mine out of habit. Don't copy unless you want to!!!!! *squawks*

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