The mad house [Ashlio/Abalint]

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Ashlio, Mar 16, 2016.

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  1. The chair was wobbling under her as she reached up to fasten the last corner of the backdrop. She had spent all yesterday painting it and was looking forward to finally be able to photograph with it. The problem was just getting it high enough. She wasn’t especially tall, and the lader had been stolen for some weird sculpture in the back yard, so she had to make due with the wobbly chair.

    She placed a foot on the back of it and leaned up even higher, and just as she pushed the silver tape against the wall, the chair jolted under her. Before she ended up on the floor with potential broken bones, she managed to catch her balance and quickly climbed down from it. “Shit,” she breather out and brushed her clammy hands over the fluffy grey shirt she wore, before looking up at the backdrop. Now one of the walls in her room looked like a black and white forest.

    The doorbell rang and her eyes darted over to the watch. “Double shit.” Once again she had lost track of time, and all the stuff she was supposed to do before their new tenant arrived had not been done at all. Sometime’s she really regretted agreeing to manage their little artsy community that lived in the old three story house. She was good at keeping track of other doing their part, but when it came to the stuff she needed to do… not so much.

    Before leaving the room, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her bleached hair was a wavy mess as always, her black band t-shirt had several spots of paint on it. “Great,” she sighed and picked up some red lipstick and smeared it on, before pulling on a flowery cardigan. It probably did a good job at making a first impression. The door rang again.

    “I’m coming!” she yelled as she ran out of her room. She pulled her socks up her ankles while she walked down the grand wooden stairs, and stopped long enough to tie the laces on of her sneakers, before finally arriving at the first floor and running over to the entrance. It was big double doors with old stained glass in, so their new arrival had probably already gotten their first view of their new home.

    Piles of books everywhere, half done painting leaning against them, all sorts of art equipment lying around. It wasn’t a tidy house, and there probably was more dust around then it should, but she liked it. Drifted furniture, all kinds of paintings and pictures on the wall, green plants stuck between all their mess.

    “Hi!” she pretty much squealed when she opened the door and looked at their new flatmate. “Sorry, had some art crises. Welcome to the mad house! I’m Robyn,” she said and held out her hand, smiling big. “Your room is actually right next to mine!”

    Robyn CS (open)

    Name: Robyn Lane
    Age: 25
    About: She was an art student like most of the tenants, and have lived in the house for almost five years now. Her major was photography, and she's now trying to make it as a freelance art photographer. She's always happy and positive, but can also be very strict if someone isn't pulling their part. So even though she looks all sweet and innocent, she's pretty though and will never let herself be messed with. Always enjoys a good party and is always late for stuff – which is why she can barely keep a job. Usually up all night and sleep all day.
    Appearance: she bleach her hair whenever she can afford it, en enjoy's wearing eyeliner and lipstick. Her clothes are several styles mixed together, and she isn't really worried about how she looks. Is pretty short, but makes it up with talking loud if anyone tried to ignore her.
  2. When Winifred saw the ad in the paper for the room, he was over joyed. When he saw the actual house, he became obsessed with getting that room. Despite the messy appearance, it was perfect for what he was doing. Let alone, it was close to the city. Winifred had his own car which was parked in the small driveway on the side of the house. He wasn't sure how the rest of the people were, buy the one guy he talked to seemed really nice. As he stood at the doors, Winifred wondered if he should have worn something different.

    He was dressed in a pair of black jeans with a nice long sleeved tee-shirt. It hung loosely off his reality any tee-shirt would. He was rather thin compared to what he should be. His sneakers were worn and old, but no holes yet. They were simple grey converse. At his feet was his duffel bag with all of his clothes and necessities. On his back was his cello. It was in a large hard case that held everything he could possibly need; the instrument, the bow, rosin, sheet music [even though he had a separate backpack full of it and then some in the car], as well as a black towel.

    Winifred rang the doorbell and stood outside. It was nice to feel the fresh air on his face, but he didn't like standing at the door. He felt weird when no one came to answer the door. After waiting for a minute or two he wondered if he came at a bad time, despite the guy saying that someone would be there to let him in at any time. As he waited he began to hear something from inside. He leaned in closer to the door to hear what it could be. Before he could get a grasp on what it was, the door opened to reveal a young girl.

    With a somewhat shocked look, Winifred backed away from the door. Winifred took her hand as a smile appeared on his face. "Nice to meet you Robyn. I'm Winifred. Please call me Winnie or Fred. Friends call me either depending on their preference," he said with a smile as he let go of her hand. He then picked up his bag and asked, "Where should I put my stuff?"

    Character Sheet (open)

    Name: Winifred Higman
    Age: 22
    About: Winifred majored in classical music performance as well as music theory. He recently got a new job as a teacher at a nearby music shop, but prefers to play gigs and hopes to one day be in a symphony or philharmonic. He's dedicated to his trade and practices whenever he gets the chance. Due to this, he often forgets about other priorities, like eating and showering on a daily basis. Unless he has to, Winifred will go days without showering or eating. When it comes down to music, Winifred is serious and is always early for gigs and lessons. He doesn't like people who don't work hard to achieve their goals even if things come easy to them and they don't have to work as hard.

    Personality: Winifred is a bit OCD when it comes to his instrument and practicing, but his room will usually remain a mess. He dislikes cleaning, but if you can get him to start cleaning he won't finish until the area is spotless. For the most part he's very understanding and easy going. He prefers to stay out of others business and is considerate. When he's over tired, he's cranky and will snap at people [especially if they tell him to do eat or shower]. He's a perfectionist when it comes to his music, which means that he'll practice a piece until it's memorized and he can play it in his sleep perfectly. Should someone interrupt his practice time for something he deems irrelevant, he gets angry and ignores them.

  3. “Okay, hi Fred,” she said and held the door open for him. “It’s up the stairs, I’ll show you.” She picked up one of his bags with a groan and started walking up the grand stairs. Being a photographer, she was used to hauling heavy equipment to the strangest locations, so she would manage one bag. Even though it was a bit heavy...

    “So, you know Andrew, the guy you spoke with on the phone, he who had this room before you. Well, he left it in a sort of mess and I promised to clean it up for him, but…uh…” She glanced back at him and smile apologetic. “I might have forgotten it…? Don’t worry though, it’s just some dust and boxes, and I’ll help you clean it up! It will be a magnificent bonding experience.”

    She reached the top of the stairs and passed a couple doors before stopping by the one leading to his new room. “It’s a bit quiet here now, usually is in the middle of the day. People are sleeping or working, and a few were going to some weird art show, I don’t even know...” She pulled the door open and stepped inside. “Okay, might be a bit dirtier then I thought, sorry…” She walked through the rubbish on the floor–mostly paper, wrappers and a few pencils–over to the windows, and pushed them both open.

    All the rooms had a nice size to them, which was perfect as artsy people usually needed their space. She turned to face him and tilted her head a bit. “So, what do you think? I hope you’ll like it here, even though it’s pretty crazy. Do you want a tour? Or have you been here before?”
  4. Winifred smiled as he allowed Robyn to take his bag. That was the bag with his sheet music and other miscellaneous stuff, so lucky her it was the heaviest. When she took it, he was going to object, but she looked like she had it covered. With a smile, Winifred followed Robyn up the stairs and to the room. AS she described the condition of the room, Winifred was creating a mental idea of what the room would be like and how he'd adjust it. When they got to the room, he was pleasantly surprised with the largeness. When talking over the phone with Andrew, Winifred knew that it was spacious, but not this big. The windows also let in a lot of light, which made Winifred really happy.

    He put his belongings down and surveyed the room. Then he turned to Robyn, "I'd love a tour." This was the first time he's been in the house. From the outside, one could get an idea of the large size. Now that he was inside, he was sure he'd lose his way before long. Winifred was horrible with directions. It would take him a while to get used to the house and its floor plan. Looking around, Winifred noticed the bed was pushed up against the wall along with the other pieces of furniture. This maximized the floor space in the center as well as creating an illusion of a larger space. Winifred knew that he was going to move stuff around so it resembled his past bedroom more closely once he got the chance. The papers and stuff on the floor didn't bother him that much, but he would clean it anyways. For the first clean, he'd make the place spotless.

    With his cello in its case, Winifred allowed it to stay leaning against the front wall. His other bags would have to be placed on the bed while he cleaned. But enough of that, Winifred wanted to be friendly and outgoing with the housemates before he started locking himself up to practice. This is how it went in college, it might as well be the the same now. Winifred Followed Robyn out the door and back down to the first level. He looked around and noticed that most everyone was out. Not saying much, Winifred followed Robyn around and listened to her narrate the tour.
  5. “At the third floor there are a couple private rooms, and a larger living room sort of thing. It’s very nice place to sit and read, usually very quiet up there. On our floor it’s five rooms total, and bathrooms of course. There is also a bathroom at the first floor, plus kitchen and living room and all that. In the basement there are also a couple bedrooms, and a few common areas. One of the rooms there is actually sound proofed, so if you want to practice late, that’s the spot. For the rest of the house we have to be quiet after ten, or we get complaints form the neighbors. Again.”

    She rolled her eyes at Fred, but was still smiling and handed him a pair of keys. “So, that’s pretty much it. Here are your keys, to the front door and your room. I recommend you lock it if you have anything valuably in there, especially during parties and such.” She shrugged and poked a nearby plant a bit. “If you have any questions, just come to me. I’m sorta in charge of this whole thing. So…yeah. Welcome!”

    She grinned at him and stood up on her toes, feeling a bit restless. “So what do you do? Except playing the… cello, was it?” she asked and stuffed her hands in her jacket pocket, looking up at him while she tilted her head. She always tried getting to know the people that lived here, they were a small family sort of, after all. A very dysfunctional one, but still…
  6. Winifred took note of every different room as well as the amount of people living in the house. He was actually really surprised by the amount of space in the house. There were so many people living in this one house and Winifred was feeling slightly overwhelmed. One thing he did like was the soundproof room. Too bad it was in the basement and he was on the second floor. Part of him wanted to ask Robyn if there was a room in the basement open instead, but then he realized that would be rude at this time. Instead he decided that it would be best if he learned how the house worked first and then tried to change his room. For now he'd deal with the second floor. He wondered what previous complaints the neighbors had about them; was it a party, or a musician, or something else.

    His mind was pulled back to reality when he was given the keys. "Thank you," he replied with a smile. They were simple enough and the advice that followed was also very handy. With a smile, Winifred continued, "Thank you for all your help. I'll let you get back to your art project. I'm going to unpack. I'll see you later." Winifred took his leave back for his room. Immediately, Winifred closed the door and pulled the trash can out. He brought his own trash bags for this sole purpose. Winifred began to clean the room like a mad man. After about two hours, the room was how he wanted it to be; clean, orderly, and filled his his belongings. Now he was beaming with joy as the cello rested on a stand in the corner near his bed. His music was next to the instrument on a stand as well. The rest of the room was rather boring. He didn't put up posters nor did he have pictures or anything really personal. All he had was his clothes, bedding, and instrument.

    The bed was now covered in a simple turquoise bed spread which reminded Winifred of home. This bedspread followed him everywhere, from home to college and now here. He smiled to himself remembering the many years the bedspread had been with him. Taking a deep breath, Winifred moved on from the sentimental moment. It was still rather early, so Winifred pulled out his cello. He allowed the bow to rest gently on the strings as he began to play a very familiar melody... Bach's Cello Suite 1 Prelude.

  7. Robyn went back to her room and continued with the backdrop, sticking some more tape to it and adding some more branches. She was just about to start taking some test photos, while she listened to Fred playing, when a blond head peaked inside the room.

    Kevin had lived there a little more than a year, and they had become best friends from day one. It was impossible not to like him, as he was always happy and eager to help. A little to energetic for some, but you couldn’t really be mad at him for it. His face was too cute to be mad at.

    “Hello!” he said and stepped inside now that he knew she wasn’t naked or busy or anything.

    “Helloooo,” she said back, with her face stuck to the camera as she tried to find the right aperture setting. It was a bit of a challenge now that she was using natural light from the windows, and thanks to the clouds on the sky, the light kept changing every minute.

    “Who’s playing?” Kevin asked while he stepped over to the backdrop and run a finger over the surface. “Nice work!”

    “The new guy, Fred. Winifred,” she answered and looked up from the camera, which was on a tripod. “Don’t touch it, it’s still drying.”

    Kevin rubbed the black paint on his finger off on his pants. They were already covered with it. “Ooo, new guy? Is he cute? Does he seem cool?”

    “Yeah, he’s cute I guess,” she said with a shrug and walked over to one of her drawers, and started digging through it. “Seems like a bit of a loner.”

    “You have to introduce me!” Kevin said excited, smiling big and clapping his hands together.

    “We can’t disturb him now,” she said and found the wires she needed, a remote shutter for the camera. “Model for me?”

    “Sure,” Kevin said and stepped in front of the back drop again.

    “Perfect,” she said and sat down at her stool behind the camera. “Now take your shirt off.”

    Kevin did it without hesitating the slightest.

    Kevin (open)

    Name: Kevin Rays
    Age: 24
    Bio: Lived in the house for 1 year +. Colors his hair a lot. Is a painter. Always smiling and happy, unless someone is mean to him. Can be a bit sensitive.
  8. Winifred finished the short piece. He got a feel for the acoustics of the place. They weren't bad. He pulled the bow across the D string and let it resonate throughout the house. It felt amazing to hear something so pure and beautiful. As he listened to the sound he noticed that he was in need of something to eat. While he didn't always eat, at the moment he was rather hungry. Placing the cello on the stand, Winifred walked over to Robyn's room and knocked gently on the door before pushing it open. "Sorry to interrupt," Winifred said as he saw Kevin without a shirt on. Winifred blushed slightly as he turned away. "I was wondering if there was a place nearby to get some groceries. I'm new around here so I was just curious. I'll come back at a better time," Winifred stated as he began to walk out of the room.

    Daisy was walking up from the first floor. She was taking a nap before all the commotion within the house. With a smile, she bumped into Winifred. "Hello," she said politely as she walked into the room with Robyn and Kevin. "Hey, I need a fan brush quickly. The acrylics are drying and my fan brush is no where to be found," Daisy stated rather bluntly. As she addressed Robyn, she turned back to Winifred, "So you're the new tenant. Cool. I'm Daisy. If I remember correctly, you're Winifred. Can I call you Winnie?" She was quick in speech and rather blunt.

    Winifred just looked back somewhat dazed. He wasn't used to this much chaos. With a hesitant smile, Winifred replied, "Sure. That's what most people back home call me." He glanced at Robyn for a moment before continuing, "I should get going."

    Daisy (open)

    Age: 28
    Bio: Lived in the house for almost 2 years now. Openly lesbian and proud. She's rather loud and enthusiastic. Very out going and exciting to be around. She's a printmaker/multimedia artist, who loves to design stuff.
  9. Kevin got a big smile on his face when Winifred entered. “Hi!” he said while posing in front on the forest painting, bare chested and posing like a pro. “Welcome to the mad house!”

    Robyn rolled her eyes, but was smiling. “Stand still you,” she said before looking at Fred. “There’s a small convenient stor a couple blocks down. Just head left when you leave the house.” It was hard to miss.

    "Hey Daisy," Robyn said when their other roommate entered, but it seemed like Daisy missed it, too fascinated by the newcomer.

    “You can borrow one of mine, if it’s okay?” he said and looked at Robyn.

    “Yeah, lets quit, the light is a bitch today. But thanks,” she said and stood up from the bar stool.

    Kevin quickly picked up his shirt and gave Winifred a charming smile when he passe him on his way out. “Come on, Daisy,” he said and waved at her before heading towards his room, so she could grab whatever she wanted.

    Robyn turned to Winifred, smiling. “Do you want to go there together? I could pick up a few thing myself, and I can make sure you don’t get lost,” she said and laughed a bit. “You probably have better sense of direction than me. But yeah, we could go in my car and I could give you a quick tour of our neighborhood?”
  10. [[Sorry I got really busy and I have finals right now, so replies are going to be somewhat scattered. Sorry again.]]

    "Awesome," Daisy said before disappearing with Kevin. She ran into Kevin's room and quickly located a fan brush. Immediately she ran back to her room and continued her painting. It was a simple canvas and acrylics, but to her it was a portal into another universe. Without missing a step, Daisy dove back into the painting. She was in her own world, which meant that no one would be able to talk to her until she was done. As if possessed, Daisy continued painting until the painting was finished about 3 hours later. By then she noticed that most people were out doing something else. She decided to wash her brushes and start cleaning up.

    Winifred smiled to Robyn and replied, "Sure." He quite enjoyed the idea of going out. As he followed Robyn to the doorway, Winifred wondered what living with these people would be like. He hoped it wouldn't be too difficult to get along with everyone. For the most part, everyone seemed to do their own thing. Winifred wondered what Robyn had to get. It was obvious that she was friendly, which helped, but he was unsure if this was where he wanted to be. Winifred thought back to the different offers that he had, between his parent's and his older sister's. Part of him wondered if he was better off not being here. Before backing down from the offer, Winifred followed Robyn to the car.

    As he followed her to the car, he felt somewhat awkward. This would be the first time since childhood where he's been alone with a woman close to his age who wasn't his sister. Immediately, Winifred felt nervous and started rubbing his fingertips together. It was an old habit that he developed as a child before performances. Ever since then, he rubbed his fingertips together whenever he was nervous. And that was only the beginning. The reason he didn't get a big job, despite his ability to play his instrument, was his inability to perform solo under pressure. It was something Winifred hated about himself every second.

    Looking at Robyn now, Winifred realized he was being rude. His mother would scold him by now and probably give him a lashing later. "Please excuse my...uh," Winifred was trying to find the words, but his mind was blanking; suddenly English was a foreign language to him. Now, Winifred was really nervous.
  11. Robyn walked beside him, humming while she looked through her purse for her car keys. Or, it was more like a shoulder bag made out of a soft, flashy fabric. It had more colors on it then she could count. Like most of her clothes, nothing really matched, but she managed to make it look good anyway. "Huh?" she said and looked up at him when he talked. She had been walking in her own world, almost forgetting him for a moment. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked with a bright smile and stopped by her car.

    It was far from new, and it had rust around it's wheels and a dream catcher hanging from the mirror. The seats were taped and covered with colorful fabrics, just how she liked it. A second home. "Ah, found them!" she said triumphly when her fingers touched cold metal, and she pulled out a large keychain. "Ready to go?"
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