forum The Artist’s Muse O/O- closed (stalkers will get some nice art)

Started August 28, 2021 by @Tired-but-passionate

tune

It’s the roaring 20’s in America, and Character A is an colormancer who recently opened a new studio for themself and is in need of a model. Character B is a wanderer in need of a job. When B responds to an ad in the paper asking for a model, A and B meet and A is very impressed, and quickly hires B. The two begin their relationship as business partners, but it eventually develops into something more. The world is not kind to people like them, and A’s career would surely be destroyed if their secret is found out. Can A and B live happily together while also keeping up appearances to others?
~
Ok so this is a very impulsive move on my part, but rn I’m feeling very inspired by the work and life of JC Leyendecker. You don’t have to be too familiar with him for this rp, but I highly encourage you look him up anyway if you aren’t, the man deserves more love and his works are absolutely gorgeous. This is based around JC’s relationship with Charles Beach

Rules/Disclaimers

• andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)’s rules
• I would prefer this to be an m/m pairing, but any other is alright with me if we discuss beforehand!
• I don’t have a preference of whether to be A or B, so it’s totally up to you
• if I haven’t rped with you before, I will ask for a sample
• keep swearing to a minimum pls, and just to keep this in line with the time period, the character ping-pong wouldn’t be very modern sounding
• I would also like to keep overtly sexual content to a minimum as well, let’s keep this PG-13
• TW- there will be some heavy themes here, expect mentions of drugs/alcohol and mental illness, as well as homophobia. Keep in mind that this is a time in America’s lastpast yesteryear where those in the LGBT+ community are greatly shunned into the background
• this is your rp too! Pls share any questions, comments, concerns, and brain bubbles you have, and I’d be happy to listen. Let’s have some fun, yeah?

I’ll post a template once someone shows interest

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Personality:
Likes/Dislikes:
Strengths/Weaknesses:
Appearance:
Backstory:
Other:
Here you go ^^

Name: Jayme Ashton
Age: 27
Gender: male
Sexuality: gay
Personality: Jayme is basically that quirky, artistic middle schooler combined with a jaded, depressed workaholic. Art is (almost) everything to him, so much so that it’s easy to forget to take care of himself. He’s rather socially awk-wonky-donky, but if he feels comfortable he’ll rave for hours and hours on end about something art related. And like most colormancers, he’s his own worst critic, and can get easily frustrated if a piece isn’t turning out the way he wants. If you dig a little deeper, you’ll find him to be very emotionally squishy, if that makes sense. He desires deep connections with people, but it’s difficult for him to get that most of the time.
Being in his profession has caused him to become extremely observant, and can spot details most others aren even cognizant of. As such, he does find joy in the little things, and sometimes he’ll get jazzed about the strange things, like the paint turning out to be just the color he wanted.
Likes/Dislikes: art supplies, sketching, watching and studying people, drawing pretty men, star gazing, jazz music, his purr machine Artemisia/ people touching his art supplies, making peeper contact with others, drawing inanimate objects, Artemisia making messes around the studio
Strengths/Weaknesses: very good at his practice due to both natural talent and formal training, observant as mentioned, drawing the human form, creative/ self-care, perfectionism, not good in social situations, tends to experience intense periods of depression
Appearance: Jayme has a slim figure and stands at around 5’9, though he may seem shorter because he’s often hunched over his work. His skin is olive with cool undertones, as well as a few freckles here and there. His peepers are a dark honey brown, and almost always has dark bags under them. He has rusty, reddish brown hair that’s shaggier than it should be and sometimes will fall over his peepers, so he often combs his fingers through it to keep it out of his face. His eyebrows are dark and sharp, making him seem rather grumpy at times. His mouth is usually set in a thin, brooding line, as it’s hard to get him to smile. His fingers and arms are long and bony, and you’ll often find him in a simple, loose white shirt and beige pants, with a black apron covered in splatters of paint.
Backstory: it’s mostly thanks to Jayme’s family that he has the finances to open a studio. He always had a passion for art, and his family avidly nurtured his dream. At the same time though, there was pressure on him to either make mint cheddar or marry once he’d gotten somewhere with his career. As a ankle-biter he often doodled during school, where he was mostly a loner. When he was a teenager he started illustrating advertisements for the company his father worked for, which how he ended up being noticed by other companies and magazines who wanted a piece of his work. He then went to guild of scholars to get formal training in visual art. Some orbit parties later he opened a studio, and received his first commission from a magazine company and began to illustrate covers for them. He had been mostly using his mother and brother as models, but they couldn’t be his models all the time. Soon, Jayme found himself in need a model who could work for him full-time.
Other: he keeps a small sketchbook that he takes with him when he goes out, and uses it to sketch anyone and everyone that catches his peeper.

(I love Jayme! Here's my character, sorry for the delay.)

Name: Victor Néci Bathory
Age: 25
Gender: Male (He/Him)
Sexuality: Bisexual
Personality: Néci is a charismatic person who enjoys being around others. Although he can be a pretty talkative person, he is a wonderful listener and a great person to talk to. Emotionally, he's reserved, but can easily open up to someone he trusts. He is a kind and compassionate person, but he is very persistent and can be rough about things. Pretty stubborn, yet he manages to make the most about it. If something is right or someone needs help, he will do anything he can to make everything better, but again, he is a rough person and can be tough. All in all, Néci is a rock one can lean on.
Likes/Dislikes: Slow dancing (or any kind of dancing really), being with others, parties, looking at art, movies, cuddling, reading/his father, being weak, arrogance, talk of his military days or most of his family, loneliness
Strengths/Weaknesses: Ability to befriend others, his charm/compassion, flexibility/Stubbornness, emotionally reserved, inward anger issues, can be aggressive, fear of being alone
Appearance: Néci stands at roughly about six groundhand two to three with a mesomorphic build. The way he carries himself makes him look bigger. His peepers are a light shade of steel blue. He has jet black hair that is short and side parted. The tone of his skin is warm ivory which gets pretty tan in the spring and summer. His features are sharp, giving him an intimidating yet refined look. Below his left peeper is a small scar that he got when he was young, but it is only noticeable when you get upclose to him.

Usually he wears a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black vest, and black slacks along with some dark brown shoes. He does have schmancy suits, but he only wears them for special occasions or parties.
Backstory: When he was nine orbit parties old, Néci and his family emigrated from Austria-Hungary to the States. Originally named Bathory Néci Vincze, he changed his name to Victor Néci Bathory due to his father wishes; but everyone still calls him Néci. He did not go to school but rather went out to work along with his father and his brothers. Whenever he wasn't working or at home, he normally would go to the wisdom warehouse and teach himself or go to a bar and watch all the people there. When his oldest brother, Zente, got married, his sister-in-law, Estelle would teach himself how to read, write, and speak English. At eighteen, he moved out due to a fallout with his father. From there he went from place to place, job to job in order to get by. During the war, he worked as a translator but struggled to get along with anyone despite doing everything he could. Normally he got into fights with his co-officers. Nevertheless, he was honorably discharged when the war ended. Afterwards, he began to go around, picking up odd-end jobs till realizing that he needed something more permanent and made enough for him to be on his own.
Other: He has the habit of resting his index finger on his bottom lip; it was something he had picked up from his father. Néci has two nieces who regularly spend time with him; he absolutely adores them to pieces.

“Arty, stop.”
The purr machine’s white paw fumbled with the thin paintbrush in Jayme’s hand. He used his other hand to push it away, making the purr machine chatter insistently.
“Artemisia.”
Her ear twitched, and her head jerked to look at him. Jayme’s peepers held a glimmer of amusement, but the rest of his expression came across as annoyed. With a sigh he set the paintbrush down— Artemisia’s gaze following his movements— before he picked her up and set her on the floor. She curled her tail at him, a sign that she wouldn’t be leaving him alone so easily, and started playing with his shoelaces instead. Jayme shook his head, then turned it to the broken escalator behind him.
“Mother!” He called. “You’re supposed to keep the purr machine upstairs.”
“Well, I was busy sewing.” The sound of footsteps came to Jayme’s ears, and soon enough Nathalie Ashton appeared, her frizzy, bright red hair looking like the perfect thing the purr machine could play with. “Your trousers won’t fix themselves.”
He was silent as his mother walked over and took Artemisia into her arms. The purr machine mewed in dismay, but Nathalie’s grip was firm. Looking over at what Jayme was working on, she swept her hair out of her face.
“Fine work, as always,” she remarked. It was simple, though, at least to Jayme. Willerman & Co. had asked for another advertisement, and it didn’t require a model, which was why Jayme was working on it. Father’s company simply asked for a few pairs of its finest shoes to be illustrated artfully on the page, and because he had done commissions like this thousands of times, he didn’t even need an actual pair of shoes to look at. The way to draw them was practically burned into his memory. At the moment, he was finishing up the first pair’s last details.
“I appreciate it, mother.” He shifted in his chair.
Nathalie smiled, even as the purr machine squirmed in her arms. “Now, has anyone responded to your advertisement?”
He shook his head.
Her hand made a noice gesture as she pointed; Jayme almost wanted to paint it. “Well, the telephone is right there. You can’t just keep working and forget to answer it when it rings, yes?”
“I know, I know. I will keep my ears open.”
“You better, now.” Nathalie turned and made her way back upstairs, the purr machine started to mew pitifully again.
Resting his head on his hand, he looked back at the advertisement, then at the several easels and canvases that had unfinished pieces surrounding his workspace. Jayme sighed again, placing the paintbrush between his mouthstones, almost scared to keep working now. If he did, he would surely block everything out and completely miss the telephone ringing.

Wanted: Model for hire. The words practically jumped out at Neci as he read the newspaper. His brows rose as he brought the paper closer to his face. He squinted, reading ad over and over again, taking in all the details that followed underneath the boldened title. Sure, there were plenty of other ads and job listings on the page, but somehow the one about the modelling is interesting to him. Even when he tries to look at the other ones, his peepers go straight back to it.

"Did you find something good in the paper?" his sister-in-law, Estelle, asked, walking over to the table with a tray of elixir of tranquility and some biscuits. His four orbit party old niece, Marie, was right at her side before ambling over and leaning to see what he was looking at.

Neci lightly smiled as he sat the paper down and slid it over for her to see. With his index finger, he pointed at the ad that he was looking at. "An colormancer is looking for a…." He paused, trying to find the word despite knowing it. Using his left hand, he snapped his fingers for a few seconds before stopping as he beamed. "Right! Model! An colormancer is looking for a model for their work. Then the number is right below it, right there." Leaning forward, he pointed right at the number.

Setting down the tray, she gently took the newspaper in her hands, reading the ad for a moment. And with a solemn nod, she handed the paper back before patting Marie on the shoulder and sitting down in another chair. "It would fit you very well, but do you think that you can handle sitting for hours in one position?"

"I think I could," He responded, taking the paper back into his hands. Removing the page with the ad, he sat aside the rest of the newspaper to the side of the table. "How hard can it be? The job must be better than all the others; besides the pay is good. I can do it."

All his other jobs were either too many hours for little pay or ended too quickly. Some were boring while others were too quick for his mind to catch up. At his last one, he got fired because he had to serve one of his former military officers; of course it did not end too pretty. Nevertheless Neci did not want to have to back to his parents' home asking for help nor did he want to ask anyone else for help. He did not want to go into blacksmithing or one of those cigar factories. He's had enough of it.

"Call them," Estelle said as she poured herself a cup of elixir of tranquility. Her peepers stared at him before focusing on her daughter, who was trying to reach for a biscuit.

"Should I?" Briefly, he just sat there, pondering about calling. When feeling a tap at the side of his leg, he snapped back into high-res hallucination. "Oh, hold on, Kedvesem," He cooed, while bringing the tray over at his side. He watched as Marie got on her tippy toes, finally reaching and getting the biscuit she wanted. With a shake of his head, he slammed his hand against his lap while laughing for a couple of seconds.

Estelle was still looking at him. Only after he had taken a deep breath, Neci realized what she was trying to say with her stare. Not saying much after, he took the paper and ambled out into the living human containment unit. Zente had set up a candlestick telephone near the end table by his seat. Setting the paper down, Neci kept staring at it as he put in the number. Once he had did all the numbers, he picked it up, pressing the receiver against his ear as it rang.

Jayme leaned in his chair, his gaze flitting to his work. Maybe he wouldn’t be so consumed with it since he was just finishing up the first pair of shoes. He could at least finish it, then take a break and wait for the telephone to ring. Yes, maybe that will work.
He bent over the page, dipping the paintbrush into the paint and bringing it over to give reality flavor to the shoelaces. Then lightly go over that part of shoe to show the light hitting it… and then go underneath and darken the areas in shadow…
Jayme wasn’t sure how long it had been ringing, but he was glad he caught the telephone before he missed the call. The shrill brrriiiiiinggg! brrriiiiiinggg! was just enough to get his attention.
Carefully setting his things aside, he then scrambled over to the end of the table where the telephone had been standing and quickly grasped the receiver, holding it up to his ear before he spoke into the stand.
“Ah, yes, howdy, partner?” He tried to keep his voice from sounding too nervous. “This is Jayme Ashton speaking.”

The phone had been picked up. When hearing the click sound on the other end, his heart leaped out of his chest. A small breath escapes through his lips while he pressed the receiver hard against his ear; Neci did not want to miss a single thing.

By the time he head the man's voice on the other line, another shiver ran down his spine. Jayme Ashton, just like the name in the paper….The man has quite a voice, he wondered if it was angelic sounding in person. On the other hand, he wondered what his own voice will sound like to Mister Ashton. And yet, despite this newfound worry, he found himself talking as naturally as possible.

"howdy, partner, Mister Ashton. My name is Victor Bathory," He stated, speaking into the mouthpiece. His peepers wandered over, laying on Marie who gave him a simple smile. Then they met with the ad resting on the table. "I am calling about your ad in the paper asking for a model for hire…..I am interested if the position is still open."

Rolling back his shoulders, he kept his peepers on the ad. This wasn't the first time he had picked up a job through the paper, but it was the first he had ever called before council gathering the boss or an employee. Even with his frequent struggles in speaking English, he felt confident in himself, but he wondered where it would take him after this. How far can go with this from now on?

Well, that was quick. Jayme put a hand on his chest and exhaled. He detected an accent in the man’s voice that he couldn’t place, but Jayme found it pleasing to the ear, added with the low, smooth tone.
For a moment he had to search for the right words to say. “Ah… y-yes! Wonderful. The position is open, Mr. Bathory. If it so pleases you, I would like to meet you in my studio at, say, around 3 o’Small Ben? I’ll give you the address.”
Was that how you were supposed to do it? Jayme cringed internally at himself. He was not used to this in the slightest. Startling at something brushing against his leg, he leaned away from the telephone’s mouthpiece and looked down. Artemisia stared back at him, her large green peepers seeming to have an expectant look. Give me attention, she seemed to say. Jayme shook his head. Oh, mother.

A slow and gentle sigh had crawled out of his lips. Thank God that the position was still open. Maybe this is his chance at finally getting a good and secured job. No….not just maybe. He knows that he shouldn't let his optimism and confidence soar above the clouds; it is too early for such a thing to happen. On the other hand, hearing Mister Ashton[s voice made him jazzed about it all already, even though he did chuckle a little.

"Three o'Small Ben….." He mumbled to himself. For a second, he had lowered the mouthpiece as he repeated the time to himself. Neci looked over his shoulder at the Small Ben before facing back and holding the piece back up. Wherever the studio is, he knows that he must leave early enough to avoid time being eaten up by potential traffic and getting lost. "I believe that….it will do very well. Three o'Small Ben works for me," He responded, nodding. Again, he lowered the mouthpiece for a second before bringing it back up. "My apologies, Mister Ashton, please excuse me for a moment."

After taking the mouthpiece away from hi, he turned to face the kitchen wobbly flip-shutter. His sister-in-law and niece were both still there. Estelle, watching him, while Marie sat there playing with a doll. Neci gave Estelle a wave before holding up the hand with the mouthpiece and giving a wave motion while mouthing, "Toll, légyszíves." ("whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler, please.") At first, he was met with her tilting her head in confusion before her peepers widened and she stood up. Estelle was only gone for a short moment before she rushed over with a small piece of paper and a whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler, setting it on the end table. Giving her a smile, he whispered, "Köszönöm." ("Thank you.")

"I apologize for the wait, Sir," He said while sitting down in a chair nearby. Placing the mouthpiece at a close spot, he took the whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler into his hand, letting the tip just rest above the paper. "May I have the address to your studio now?"

As he listened to the sound of Mr. Bathory’s voice repeated the time, he suddenly remembered something.
“Ah— ah—“ he began, but the other man had already excused himself. He waited, his groundhand starting to tap nervously, which made Artemisia paw at it with vigor. Jayme’s brow furrowed as he leaned away from the mouthpiece again. “Arty, no.” But his words were futile. Eventually he stopped tapping, deciding to pat his leg instead.
He’d forgotten to say the day before overmorrow. Today was for working, and the day before overmorrow he could better prepare for something like interviewing a future employee. If they did it today… oh, that made Jayme very scared.
Then Mr. Bathory’s voice pierced through his thoughts. He turned back to the mouthpiece and stuttered, “O- of course, of course sir, but I must say… I must say before do, just to clarify. I mean the day before overmorrow at three o’ Small Ben, not today. W- will that still work for you?”

Slightly moving himself forward, he pressed the whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler against the paper. Following the next moment, he lifted it up then nodded. Though the other man couldn't see him, he smiled. "Ah….I see, it is alright, Mister Ashton," Neci reassured. "It will work for me as long as it works for you. I am sorry for 'jumping the rooty tooty point-n-shooty' as they always say."

In the top corner of the paper, he wrote an abbreviation for the word 'the day before overmorrow to help his memory just in case his excitement got the best of him. At least he has enough time to find a way to the studio and to get some clothes ready. Then he could also try his best to prepare for the interview even though he was unsure what he would be asked.

Neci tried to imagine what Mister Ashton looked like as they spoke. All he could detect was the formal way of speaking and stuttering. It was interesting to hear a man with a stutter; in all his former jobs, none of his bosses ever hesitated to say a word, especially those devils of commanders. Now, he is assuming that Ashton is a kind and gentle man. He is confident in that assumption.

"Three o'Small Ben the day before overmorrow post-meridian jaunt, I believe that would be perfect, Sir," He said. Below his little note, he wrote "Be gentle" as another reminder to himself. His peepers flickered over to the ad. "I apologize for causing any worry."

Jayme waved the other’s words away, even though there was no one to wave to. “, it’s not you, sir. I just tend to forget things like that. It’s… it’s good that the day before overmorrow works as well.”
He couldn’t help but feel relieved that Mr. Bathory was being so gracious. Not only did it ease his heebie jeebies in the moment, but it indicated that Mr. Bathory would be pleasing to work with in the future. Jayme hoped that would be the case; it would be a noice change of pace after many times of bickering with his brother and mother.
Running his hands through his hair, he silently shook his head at himself. He couldn’t get his hopes this high up. There was always a chance Jayme would have to find someone else to be his model.
His hand dropped to his side. “I must confess, Mr. Bathory, that I am used to working alone, so this is rather new to me. But anyway, my studio is located on the corner of 21st and Ingle. You should see a brown, two-story building named Ashton Place.”

"Ah that is wonderful! New experiences lead to exciting things. I am sure you will do fine," He said with a smile. A laugh managed to leave from him, but he stopped himself as Mister Ashton continued speaking. He was not sure why he was feeling so giddy all of the sudden.

As Ashton did speak, he wrote the address down on the paper. His lips moved along as he wrote every letter and number till he sat the whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler down. Neci sighed as he leaned back in the chair for a second. When he sat straight up again, he glimpsed at the paper and ad.

Hopefully this is it. All he can do is hope and to show up at the Ashton Place exactly on time. It appears like everything should be alright. Mister Ashton sounds like a wonderful person to have a boss; gentle yet very respectful. And despite only have hearing his potential employer's voice, he was starting to imagine what working for him would be like. Oh how Neci hopes.

Running his hand through his hair, he took a deep breath. "Thank you very much, Sir. I will do my best to be there at least fifteen minutes early," He added, giving a nod. "Is there anything else I need to know or be cognizant about for the interview the day before overmorrow?"

“Ah,” Jayme’s shoulders bounced a little with amusement. Something about Mr. Bathory’s laugh… “Thank you. And same to you.”
It almost felt like Bathory had stolen his line. He watched as Artemisia leaped onto the table and quirked her head at him. He shook his head, briefly sticking his tongue out at her. The purr machine pawed at her ower’s shoulders until Jayme gave in and began stroking her head.
“O-of course,” he replied when he caught Mr. Bathory’s voice again. “Ah…” he stared at Artemisia for a moment, then asked, “Are you allergic to cats?”
The other man seemed quite on top of things, unlike Jayme was. Although it definitely made his hopes for Mr. Bathory quite high, it also raised his expectations on himself. If he was going to be fifteen minutes early, then Jayme would have to have everything ready by then. The universal clingy-ness of all he had to do began to weigh on him, but he tried to shake it off. Jayme scratched Artemisia’s ear before she leaped back to the ground.