#rosalyn verites | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kingsholmrp · 6 years

Photo

ROSALYN STEIN

Age: 29 Birthdate: 30th November 1988 Gender and Pronouns: Female, she/her Hometown: Kingsholm, Norway Occupation: Coroner

She is a Silver. She is a Clairvovant.

BIOGRAPHY:

Born with a silver spoon in her mouth, Rosalyn Stein was a stranger to normalcy. Her family bred a generation of surgeons that was dated back centuries ago, and they treated their daughter no differently. Even as a child she resented the prestigious upbringing, and rebelled throughout her teenage era to showcase that fact. Even though her report cards were veritably bleached clean to hide evidence of her unfortunate behavior, she was sent to detention more times than she could count. Luckily for her, her parent’s didn’t bat an eye to pay anyone off that claimed otherwise…

Her chagrin attitude was mostly aimed at educators, relying on her to become a teacher’s pet—but she denied that role long ago. Despite this fact, even bullies that targeted the less fortunate became collateral damage during her insubordination. She didn’t like that anyone was treated lessor due to their financial status. However, nothing lasts forever…and the obstinate features binding her to unruly outbursts, would suddenly dissipate.

One night was all it took for her to wake up. During the celebration of earning her driver’s license, she became under the influence thanks to her father’s vaulted stash she broke into. It’s not like they were ever around, due to their bumbling work schedules that secluded her from a normal childhood. So, what happened? The little rebel snuck out of the house with the keys to her parent’s BMW, and took it out for a spin—eons over the intoxicated limit that was legally allowed. It didn’t take long before her car engaged the rails embedded into a highway, which launched her from the window and into the island’s threshold.

The near death experience sent her to the hospital where her parent’s worked at, welcoming their daughter with ire and relief of her still breathing. However, not even the morphine could prepare her for what she witnessed—dead people walking around the hospital, looking lost without a map to guide them into the light. Which only meant one thing…the legend of silver’s was true, and her mother was keeping a secret she tried to bury six feet under—Rosalyn’s father wasn’t the man who raised her, but it was someone else. Someone dangerous. Something that she researched herself, due to her mother staying tight-lipped about the situation.

It was like splashing cold water on her face, which made her more invested, and studious—to the point of it becoming an ugly obsession. She hid her face in textbooks to avoid the unsolicited gift of clairvoyance, hoping it’d somehow unearth itself and bug somebody else. But it didn’t. Eventually, she began to communicate with them, despite how much they frightened her…and started to realize she’d redeem herself for all those years of being bratty, and become a coroner. When the police department came knocking on her door for answers about autopsies, it became habitual due to her unexplained knowledge that she shed light on every time.

Rosalyn Stein is portrayed by Leighton Meester.

#retired

1 note · View note

nimiumcaelo · 4 years

Text

“Indeed, Miss?” -- Chapter 3

Chapter summary: Bertie comes up with a solution, yet it may not satisfy all parties.

Chapter 3: A Wooster Does Not Give Up

Miss Wooster heaved several more dramatic sighs, then froze.

“Rosalyn!” She sat bolt upright.

“Yes, miss?” I was somewhat startled by her behavior.

“I’ve got it! It’s the most corking idea, Rosalyn, it’s sure to work! You will be my chaperone!”

Miss Wooster’s face was sparkling in renewed hope. I wished very much that I would not have to dim that joy.

“You know all my friends already,” she went on. “And everybody trusts you – even Aunt A.! Oh, Rosalyn, it’s perfect!”

I bit my lip. I never liked to trust such simple solutions, and yet…

“Perhaps, miss, Mrs. Gregson and Mrs. Travers will not find fault in the proposition.”

“Oh, come now, Rosalyn, of course they won’t! They may not love you as their own flesh and blood, but they certainly trust you as it, if not more!”

“That is kind of you to say, miss. I only fear that Mrs. Gregson and Mrs. Travers may see this as a way for you to avoid their restrictions on behavior.”

“Well, of course it is, Rosalyn, don’t be daft. I’m still going to do everything I do, just with you palling around the whole time. If, that is, you don’t mind following after the young mistress hither and yon like an old nursemaid, eh, Rosalyn?” She fixed me with a hesitant glance. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“No, miss, I would not,” I confessed.

“Spiffing! It’s all settled, then. Absolutely topping! I say, Rosalyn, in the words of Matthias, you are the absolute dream rabbit!”

“Thank you, miss.”

Wishing to inform her Aunts directly of her acquiescence to their plan, Miss Wooster rushed downstairs. I packed the last few remaining items and informed one of the footmen to take them downstairs to the car. After approximately a quarter of an hour, I found myself once more in the two-seater with Miss Wooster jubilant behind the wheel.

“I say, Rosalyn,” she beamed, “we’ve really out-foxed them this time! What a corking idea that was! And they’re all for it, I should mention; you are the veritable Abraham Lincoln of respectability – was it Lincoln who was respectable?”

“Yes, miss. He was renowned for his supposed honesty. Though he detested the moniker, he was often referred to as – “

“Yes, yes, Rosalyn, but save it for the long winter nights, eh? I feel like Atlas did after a pal of his came up to him and said, ‘Here, old chap, have off for a few.’”

I neglected to mention that no such occurrence had ever, to my knowledge, occurred. It did not seem relevant. “Your Aunts were favorable towards my acting as your chaperone, miss?”

“They jolly well were! Aunt Dahlia said she couldn’t think of a better option, what with you being both respectable and of the female sex. They are mighty keen on getting me married off but still wary of my spending prolonged hours with men. Tuh! What rot, I say, Rosalyn – utter rot!”

“Indeed, miss. The irregularities in their beliefs, while understandable, do constitute a rather confusing set of instructions.”

“Precisely! And how am I to know what to do if I’m chaperoned around beazels and around chaps! What do they think I’ll do – launch myself at any unattached person under the age of fifty? A Wooster has standards,” she sniffed.

“Undoubtedly they are acting out of concern for your well-being, miss, and not out of any lack of respect towards yourself.”

“Tchah! Have you finally cracked, Rosalyn?”

“Not to my knowledge, no, miss,” I responded, a trifle coldly.

“Then how can you believe they are acting out of anything but a profound disrespect! They don’t trust me to do anything so they bung me off with suitors and chaperones so I won’t lose all my money or some rot. It’s bally infuriating, Rosalyn!”

“Understandably so, miss.”

Miss Wooster gave a small shiver, then sighed wistfully. “At least that’s out of the way, though. I don’t think you know how grateful I am, Rosalyn, for your agreeing to this. I know it isn’t specifically written out in your contract to ferry the young mistress to and fro with her pals and save her from fast ruffians in dark alleys, but without you I’d be stuck moping along after Aunt Agatha or one of her boorish ‘suitable young gentlemen,’ so I really must say thank you.”

“It is no bother, miss, I assure you.”

“Still, I’d like to repay you somehow. How’s’about I give you an early bonus, eh? Or would a cruise be better? I don’t know if I’m quite ready yet to get rid of those fuchsia stockings, but I might just consider it if you turn out to be the best bally chaperone since those head monks up in their mountain temples watching over the lower monks and saying, ‘Gotcha!’ if they catch them up to any funny business. Right difficult, I suppose that’d be, what with all the rocks to hide behind.”

I turned to look at the scenery rushing past to hide a small smile. “Indubitably, miss.”

The ride passed in much the same chatter-filled way that it had. Miss Wooster related tales of her tennis exploits with her cousin Angelo and compared them to previous years’; she sang several show-tunes and hymns that we had encountered during the week; she pondered with me what an appropriate meal would consist of for our return to the flat (I suggested a simple Cumberland pie but she declared herself sick of potatoes and desirous of turnips or beets or some other such vermilion vegetable). Thus my discomfort was put off for several pleasant hours.

The pleasantness could not last, of course. Whence we found ourselves ascending the stairs to the flat, I found that my heart was not ascending with us. As Miss Wooster unlocked the door and whistled her way inside, I realized that I would be required to stiffen my upper lip and put away any tender feelings towards my employer, regardless of their being ab imo pectore. Miss Wooster had no intentions of quitting her gay revelries and their resultant amorous escapades, and I confess I was and still am not modern enough to feel comfortable sharing a lover. We simply were not of the same mind on the issue and to save my heart pain whilst chaperoning her during her adventures, I must firmly and decisively cut off these tender passions.

Thus it was, and I served a small roast (sans potatoes) and put away Miss Wooster’s things without so much as a flickering disappointment. I may have shed a heartbroken tear or two once locked away in my bedchamber, yet that is of no consequence. Love unreturned has its rainbow, and though I did not see it at present, I was certain to find it shining about at some point. Besides, I usually had no opportunity to join in on bohemian activities, but whilst attending them with Miss Wooster I would, most probably, have the chance of banishing all unprofessional thoughts towards my employer from my mind. It would simply be a matter of time.

Hopefully.

#f/f #jeeves/wooster #chaptered fics #indeedmiss #jooster #p g wodehouse

0 notes