Posts tagged rose lalonde
Posts tagged rose lalonde
GA: I Guess We Cant Just Take It Down Considering How Much Work It Was For Her To Draw It
GA: That Would Be A Tremendous Insult To The Young Artist
GA: Maybe I Can Put A Chair In Front Or Something And Just Move It When She Comes In On Fridays
TT: No need for the effort. I intend to ask if I can have it for my very own the next time I see her.
GA: Oh Thank God
GA: You Have Saved Us All
TT: You misunderstand. I’m genuinely fond of that piece. It shows incredible skill for such an early artist, don’t you think?
TT: Look at the creature’s eyes, in partcular.
GA: Do I Have To
TT: Those are the eyes of a bee haunted by dreams that would drive men mad.
GA: And That Attracts You Why Exactly
TT: Ah, well. Fortunately for both of us, I am no man!
GA: I Had Noticed As A Matter Of Fact
TT: So I think I’ll be safe from its hellish influence. But it really does need to work its special magic from the door of my refrigerator, once I’ve gotten myself an apartment, said refrigerator, and some colorful fruit-themed magnets to hold the art in place.
GA: Are You Thinking About Where You Might Go Next
GA: After Here
TT: I’ve promised myself to make no plans for the time being, but I promise you will be fully updated with my contact information long before certain other individuals know I’ve graduated from my program.
GA: I Will Guard My Address Book With My Life
[just a sketch of Rose practicing gymnastics, because rose is hardcore]
Kanaya: design Dance of Thorns for your portfolio.
Rose: Elegantly flip your grimdark fangirl shit.
I finally had some time for sketching, so to warm myself up, I sketched as many of the Brainbent girls as I could fit into here (and from memory :P).
By the way, READ BRAINBENT. It’s a really good AU, and the reason I don’t get to bed until an hour or two before school :D
(Sadly, PM didn’t make it in.)
Rose: Fondly regard infatuation.
TA: iim not jiittery, iim never jiittery.
EB: you jitter, dude.
EB: you’re doing it right now, even. look at your hands.
TA: thii2? thii2 ii2 normal, iit doe2nt mean anythiing.
EB: never go to medical school. you’ll take out your first patient’s eye with shakes like that.
TA: there wont be any mediical 2chool2 left by the tiime ii get out of here.
EB: chill, guy, i’ve got this. you are talking to the master of the breeze here.
CG: ARE YOU TWO LISTENING TO YOURSELVES?
TT: I think we may be witnessing an actual case of folie a deux. This is so fascinating.
GC: You Should Take Notes Wheres Your Little Book
AC: :33 < you have to admit they are super adorable over there talking about the end of the world
CG: AS LONG AS IT KEEPS THE DOUCHELORD FROM BOUNCING AROUND SHOVING HIS GRAPH PAPER IN EVERYBODY’S FACE I GUESS I’M ALL FOR IT.
some brainbent doodles with thoughtful artist commentary
Brainbent!Rose writing a note to her mother before going to St. Lobaf. All the stationary at her house has hearts on it, because reasons.
Misguided Ghosts: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kb9jXwHmkM0
This song reminds me of Brainbent so much, it’s practically the theme song to me. I’m really sad I’m not an efficient enough artist to make pictures for the entire song, because I definitely have ideas for every lyric. I would love to see it done though, I would die a happy woman.
A wild CHARACTER SELECT SCREEN appears!
What will you do?
(Read this adventure in order here)
My dearest Rose,
I was quite astonished to receive your letter last week. I had begun to wonder if you might have misplaced the address, and was considering sending you a reminder via text message. Of course, I immediately realized that you may not be permitted the use of personal devices in a psychiatric institution.
No offense intended, dear, if the administrators of your latest residence have chosen a more euphemistic term for such a facility. You know how old-fashioned I am in matters of political correctness. Polite fiction was always more your father’s domain than mine.
Your school friends have been to visit several times, asking where you’ve gone. Naturally I smoothed things over for you and let on you are traveling in Europe with a long-absent relative, and may not return for some weeks. I took the liberty of spreading this tale among family to save on embarrassment and to spare your grandmother’s heart the distress, although I substituted a mysterious school friend for your travel partner.
Your grandmother has, by the way, asked me to pass along her best wishes for an exciting journey and a triumphant return home. Do write again and let me know if I need to pick you up. I’ll have a car sent straight away. We may need to purchase souvenirs to maintain the illusion, but of course I’ll leave their selection to you.
With all my love,
P.S. The Dickinson boy paid a visit on Tuesday. He’s such a nice boy to still think of you after all this time. I told him you were overseas and he was quite disappointed. I also took the liberty of copying down his phone number in case you’d like to call him and set something up once you’re finished with your program.
Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you just figured out why you drink so much.
So you’re in Europe now! Of course you are, how civilized! To your left, Gamzee Makara is smearing paste on the back of his hand and picking it off to make zombie blisters. He’s as old world as they come, much like the bubonic plague that appears to have inspired his glue decorations. Next to him, Nepeta Leijon is drawing something in various shades of red and green crayon, singing something with a lot of “nyans” in it. You are fairly sure it’s Japanese, which is a shame. It breaks the European theme you were driving at with this metaphorical glance around the craft room.
In a corner chair, Sollux Captor has curled himself into a little angular ball like a wadded up piece of cardstock. The angry expression he sported all day yesterday has sagged into a mask of disinterest. You have no idea what has him so snippy, but it’s all part of the multicultural experience. You decide to assign him Germany, for no reason whatsoever. A moment later Karkat Vantas invades, storms over to the corner and begins shouting at Sollux, and you think, ah, trouble in paradise. He has the dreadful stuffed bee again, and as you watch, he slams it into Mr. Captor’s midsection. Sollux grabs the bee, gives Karkat a filthy look and then they’re off.
What country would Karkat be? America, probably. The United States, invading the break room—sorry, Europe—and bombing it to ashes with his vulgarities and outrage. It’s almost funny.
Kanaya enters the rec room, all green and gold today with her hair slicked back with two little curled locks flush with the skin of her forehead, ducks a flying stuffed animal with perfect ninja grace, and ends the argument between America and Germany with her usual measured irritation. She’s no country at all. She’s just Kanaya, wherever your imagination puts her. Bossy boots, you think, and grin for the first time all day.
That nice Dickinson boy, you think, returning to the letter. That nice, thoughtful Dickinson boy with his shy smile and his clear skin and his heinously bungled attempt to pull off Highway 19 and woo you the hard way on your way back from a movie. It was the one and only time you allowed him to take you out and you honestly have no idea why you did it. He was a perfect gentlemen until his seat belt came off and his fingers turned out to be clammy and trembling, like two hairless white bats skittering up the back of your shirt. Two nos elicited only crack-voiced whining before you smacked him in the face, wrapped yourself in your shawl and walked the rest of the way back home with him trailing behind you and calling out the window with his brights on.
He apologized to your mother, for God’s sake. Of course she adores him.
You look back down at the perfumed mess of ivory paper and think about all the things you’d like to write in your reply. Things you can’t write, because there are rules for this sort of thing. The first person to drop the pretense loses, so you’re forced to simmer instead. The lavender fountain pen handwriting on the envelope is perfectly metered, extravagant with the finishing school flourish that infests the fairer sex of your family. In the Lalonde household, you take long vacations to places you never actually visit and come back strung out and smelling of hospital soap. You do your secret drinking in a chilled walk-in pantry the size of some people’s apartments, smearing fifty dollar lipstick across sparkling stemware with your well-scrubbed pinky finger cantilevered.
Kanaya watches Karkat trudge back out the door. She hands Sollux his recently jettisoned bee and sends him grumbling but pacified back to his corner chair. She joins you a moment later and sits across the small table with a sigh.
"I know this is a madhouse, Rose, but these people are insane.” And when she rolls her eyes, you smile again, and drop the letter back onto the table.
Dear Mother, you think, Have decided I quite like Europe. Think I may stay. Yours in passive-aggressive shrewishness, Rosie.
[aaand Rose because why not!]
ROSE LALONDE (RESIDENT)
Upon initial observation, Ms. Lalonde appears indistinguishable from any other individual comprising the vast majority of her peers, albeit a bit on the grimdark side. Closer investigation by a careful observer, however, is quite likely to reveal hitherto unexplored glimpses at a personality not entirely unlike the multifaceted surface of a specimen of museum-quality bi
Smart as a whip, high-achieving, a slightly smug bookworm with an introverted personality, Rose Lalonde comes from a perfect household, wanting for nothing. Her mother is perfect. Her home is perfect. Everything in her life is perfect, actually, except for Rose herself. She hides her insecurity behind a wall of sarcasm and acerbic wit, but her knowledge of psychology and excellent insight recently convinced her to ask for help, with or without the approval of her family.
Rose is determined to remain at St. Lobaf doing intensive therapy until she is ready to confront her outside life (and her family) without relapsing into her illness.
Current project: analyzing and neutralizing her urge to compete with her mother, especially the part with the excessive drinking and rampant self-image issues.
tT: I love your costume, Kanaya! Is that the Green Fairy?
gA: Thats Right I Hope It Is Okay That I Dressed This Way I Only Just Realized It Might Offend You Oh Dear
tT: It’s quite all right, Kanaya. Alcohol is a thing that happens whether or not I can drink it. And besides, you look lovely!
gA: You Are Very Sweet To Say So Also Are You Draco Malfoy Because Wow
tT: Potter stinks.
gA: You Are My Favorite Slytherin
tT: Why Miss Maryam, I do believe I’m getting the fandom vapors.
gA: Oh Wow Vriska That Fits Perfectly I Am Amazed
aG: Spiderdouche got nothin’ on me! >::::D
gC: 4LL R1GHT 4LL R1GHT S3TTL3 DOWN L4D13S W3 H4VE D3L1C1OUS R3D PUNCH 4ND T3RR1BL3 MUS1C 1N TH3 R3C ROOM TO B3 4TT3ND1NG TO
gC: 3L D14BLO COMM4NDS 1T