Bop Its Neo
Arber
Heyo!
I'm looking for a Jefferson to do a Prison AU Jamilton RP
I can be lit, semi-lit, advanced, really anything; though I prefer going full detail and in-depth with what I write. More often than not, I bounce off of my partner's writing style. The one thing I'll refuse to do is one-liners, and I'd prefer if my partners don't do one-liners, either.
TW - Swearing, mentions or writings of specific laws being broken
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alexander hadn't even been in this prison for a day and he was pretty much already despising it. Of course, there wasn't much to despise just yet. Mostly the body shuddering cavity search that he had been so thoughtfully forced through, one that left him feeling exposed and dirty and yet, not as disgusted as he thought he would. Also, perhaps scanning the walls and ceiling and floor as he walked to his cell, his new home, noting just how.. Not up to par the cleanliness was. How the ceilings had cobwebs almost meticulously hung around any nook and corner, the floor with dust and what seemed like dirt that was newly trecked around, the walls hardly even a white he knew they must have once been - instead, a yellowish hue.
He doubted that any wall was supposed to be that colour unless somebody actually painted them that way - which, was impossible, at least in his own mind. Who would want that colour? The spokesperson of disgusting colours?
He wasn't saying he was above the prison, not at all. He deserved to be here. If he were to break the law, and get caught doing so, he was going to have to face time. It didn't matter how he felt about living four years in prison, whether he wanted to or not, and he supposed that was what was bittersweet about the situation. He could easily have felt better about himself for not bothering to shy away from the sentence, or act like he didn't do it - instead admitting to the issue and leaving with authorities with compliance - but then again, that was a waste of time. Parading himself around like he was the greatest person in the fucking prison would probably get him in more trouble than he would like to bother with, and maybe, for once, that wasn't what he wanted to do. It would be best to simply lay low, right?
Well, even with that mindset, there was always a piece of him in the back of his mind that knew he wouldn't bother, not even from the start - and that piece of him knew him better than the rest of his mind did. Alexander Hamilton? Not make a mess of himself? It was unheard of.
No matter what he had previously thought about himself, how high or low he thought he was compared to others or even in the dark of night as he lay in bed thinking, he was still in prison. He was still being directed towards his soon-to-be cell with his soon-to-be cell mate already in it, with a pile of fabrics in his arms that he never bothered to look through and a hoodie too thin for his likings on his back. He was in a group with three others, who looked just as unbothered as he did, them actually joking around with the ease of an innocent conscious. He had learned their names and nationalities a few minutes ago. He hadn't bothered to remember.
His last name and new cell number had rung in his ears as soon as the well-built guard had spilt them, and he jumped slightly, having been too in his own mind to pay attention to anything other than himself. He gave a slight nod, and a quiet, breathless laugh at himself - for once, he was thinking inside his own mind instead of spilling all of his thoughts out loud. He'd been told by one too many how that was a near impossibility, and seeing it here now, was bitterly funny to him.
He gave another nod, and cleared his throat, before padding into his cell, already more focused on setting his items down than studying his cell mate. There was a large portion of him worrying about how, exactly, he should go through with an introduction - just a simple hello? A compliment? Something less innocence? Is he supposed to lack politeness to be taken seriously? - but he reasoned with himself that he would actually have to look at the male to have an introduction at all. So, he turned around to look at him, hardly taking a second before speaking.
He was taller than Alexander, standing at a height that had obviously started with a six, with black, wild curls atop his head that seemed to frame his face decently enough. He had facial hair - well trimmed, Alexander thought, he hadn't expected anybody to look even remotely kept up in a place like this -, that also didn't look entirely awful on him, paired with deep brown eyes and what seemed to be a smile, if Alexander didn't know any better. He was dark skinned, and had an athletic build, and a part of Alexander knew that if he were to say the wrong thing, the man in front of him could probably chuck him across the prison without as much as breaking a sweat.
Alexander wasn't sure if he was worried about that or not.
After deciding two seconds was far too long to be studying someone, he had managed a step closer to the male - nothing to break boundaries, he reasoned, just enough for a handshake and nothing else -, holding out his hand and managing the same bright smile that had wooed his wife out of this hell hole. He didn't know what to say, but that had never stopped him from speaking before, so he settled with a usual -
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Alexander Hamilton. I was told I'd be staying here."
I'm looking for a Jefferson to do a Prison AU Jamilton RP
I can be lit, semi-lit, advanced, really anything; though I prefer going full detail and in-depth with what I write. More often than not, I bounce off of my partner's writing style. The one thing I'll refuse to do is one-liners, and I'd prefer if my partners don't do one-liners, either.
TW - Swearing, mentions or writings of specific laws being broken
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alexander hadn't even been in this prison for a day and he was pretty much already despising it. Of course, there wasn't much to despise just yet. Mostly the body shuddering cavity search that he had been so thoughtfully forced through, one that left him feeling exposed and dirty and yet, not as disgusted as he thought he would. Also, perhaps scanning the walls and ceiling and floor as he walked to his cell, his new home, noting just how.. Not up to par the cleanliness was. How the ceilings had cobwebs almost meticulously hung around any nook and corner, the floor with dust and what seemed like dirt that was newly trecked around, the walls hardly even a white he knew they must have once been - instead, a yellowish hue.
He doubted that any wall was supposed to be that colour unless somebody actually painted them that way - which, was impossible, at least in his own mind. Who would want that colour? The spokesperson of disgusting colours?
He wasn't saying he was above the prison, not at all. He deserved to be here. If he were to break the law, and get caught doing so, he was going to have to face time. It didn't matter how he felt about living four years in prison, whether he wanted to or not, and he supposed that was what was bittersweet about the situation. He could easily have felt better about himself for not bothering to shy away from the sentence, or act like he didn't do it - instead admitting to the issue and leaving with authorities with compliance - but then again, that was a waste of time. Parading himself around like he was the greatest person in the fucking prison would probably get him in more trouble than he would like to bother with, and maybe, for once, that wasn't what he wanted to do. It would be best to simply lay low, right?
Well, even with that mindset, there was always a piece of him in the back of his mind that knew he wouldn't bother, not even from the start - and that piece of him knew him better than the rest of his mind did. Alexander Hamilton? Not make a mess of himself? It was unheard of.
No matter what he had previously thought about himself, how high or low he thought he was compared to others or even in the dark of night as he lay in bed thinking, he was still in prison. He was still being directed towards his soon-to-be cell with his soon-to-be cell mate already in it, with a pile of fabrics in his arms that he never bothered to look through and a hoodie too thin for his likings on his back. He was in a group with three others, who looked just as unbothered as he did, them actually joking around with the ease of an innocent conscious. He had learned their names and nationalities a few minutes ago. He hadn't bothered to remember.
His last name and new cell number had rung in his ears as soon as the well-built guard had spilt them, and he jumped slightly, having been too in his own mind to pay attention to anything other than himself. He gave a slight nod, and a quiet, breathless laugh at himself - for once, he was thinking inside his own mind instead of spilling all of his thoughts out loud. He'd been told by one too many how that was a near impossibility, and seeing it here now, was bitterly funny to him.
He gave another nod, and cleared his throat, before padding into his cell, already more focused on setting his items down than studying his cell mate. There was a large portion of him worrying about how, exactly, he should go through with an introduction - just a simple hello? A compliment? Something less innocence? Is he supposed to lack politeness to be taken seriously? - but he reasoned with himself that he would actually have to look at the male to have an introduction at all. So, he turned around to look at him, hardly taking a second before speaking.
He was taller than Alexander, standing at a height that had obviously started with a six, with black, wild curls atop his head that seemed to frame his face decently enough. He had facial hair - well trimmed, Alexander thought, he hadn't expected anybody to look even remotely kept up in a place like this -, that also didn't look entirely awful on him, paired with deep brown eyes and what seemed to be a smile, if Alexander didn't know any better. He was dark skinned, and had an athletic build, and a part of Alexander knew that if he were to say the wrong thing, the man in front of him could probably chuck him across the prison without as much as breaking a sweat.
Alexander wasn't sure if he was worried about that or not.
After deciding two seconds was far too long to be studying someone, he had managed a step closer to the male - nothing to break boundaries, he reasoned, just enough for a handshake and nothing else -, holding out his hand and managing the same bright smile that had wooed his wife out of this hell hole. He didn't know what to say, but that had never stopped him from speaking before, so he settled with a usual -
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Alexander Hamilton. I was told I'd be staying here."
