vmbrcse
all you know about me is my name
rose prince||28||they/he/she
i don't wanna be special
no, no
i just wanna survive
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oflakeview:
Franklin sat in his office, filling out some paperwork. Sure, he wasn’t part of the police force, but town PR was his specialty. He leaned back in the leather chair, taking a deep breath. He didn’t know Jack or Mary Beth that well, but what he was particularly worried about was the leak of the police interviews. That had gone viral, the entire world knew about it. He heard a knock at his door, and he lifted his head. “Come in.”
You don’t get to basically be outed for Rose’s line of work and keep going without some strings to pull. The one issue, of course, being that some of those strings have very identical doors when you’re trying to walk with purpose, and sometimes you’ll be off by a couple doors. Opening the door to see not the person they were looking for made Rose glad they’d only come by for a discussion. “Um...” Not wanting to just announce they’d been looking for someone else outright, they caught sight of paperwork --for what, Rose wasn’t entirely sure, but could make a guess-- and played off of that. “So I take it that report was real, then? Or...are you allowed to tell me that? I feel like you don’t get a bunch of paperwork for a fabricated report. Either way. Sucks for you guys, getting one pulled over on you like that.”
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now-its-3am:
“i do not sound like that, that’s not even funny. you’re an ass.” riley rolled their eyes, a small smile still on their lips as they placed the joint back between them. “they can try, but i would put up a fight. i can’t be out here having no one supplying. that’s just cruel.” riley sat up slightly and leaned back on their elbows. “if they do though – i’ll come visit. y’know, that way i can catch up with steph and trevor while i’m at it.” they mumbled past the smoke. not that rose would care. not that riley cared if they did.
“Uh, first of all, I’m hilarious. It’s part of my charm.” They picked the point up and took a drag from it, clearing their throat on the exhale. “I’m touched, truly. For what it’s worth, though, if I wasn’t supplying, some weird greaseball would take my place. It’s, like...environmentalism or some shit. Gotta fill the empty niches.” They raised an eyebrow at Riley’s little aside, not sure what to make of it. They didn’t make a habit out of sharing life details, and most people did the same. Not wanting to risk prying, or, worse still, feeling obligated to share their own tragic backstory, they just rolled their eyes. “Just make sure you bring me a nail file, yeah? If I do that kinda time there’s no way you should just let me sit there.”
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now-its-3am:
“could you imagine if it was me? how sneaky would that be?” riley chuckled, sitting up as they rolled their eyes at rose’s stupid suggestion. “they’re only on your ass about it ‘cause they know you deal and you were an ass in your interview. don’t worry too much about it. you know as well as i do they don’t need any murder charges to lock you up the second they want to.” a sigh left riley as they laid back down on the couch. “that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to go get locked up on me though.” there weren’t too many people around lakeview riley was close with – not that they were close with rose – at least not as far as anyone knew. the last thing riley needed was to have someone else they – cared about – dragged away for a long time.
“Oh, yeah, because that makes me feel better.” They laughed, adopting a weird pitch to mock Riley’s words. “’Oh, don’t worry, Rose! They won’t arrest you for murder, just drugs!’ What a pal.” Not that Riley was their friend. Nope. They were one of the first few people Rose had met when they arrived in town, and it wasn’t uncommon to find them in each other’s presence, but. Whatever. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll have you know, my record’s squeaky clean. They won’t get me that easy.” Well, their record was clean now. Either way. Rose, when sober, wasn’t that worried about being carted off. Riley didn’t have anything to worry about. Not that they assumed they worried about them.
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belliemont:
Ellie had been sitting outside of the police station, hoping to catch a local to ask more questions. She jumped when she heard a voice, listening to the exchange and chuckling. When the person approached she walked up to them. “Oh, yeah, totally.” She said. “So…” She looked them up and down. “you weren’t there as a suspect, right?”
Rose paused, considering her for a moment. She obviously hadn’t been here long, and her sitting outside the police station either meant she was lost or nosey. Awesome. “I mean...sort of? The whole town’s suspect. That’s kinda how it works when the town’s this small. Preliminary interview to narrow the suspect pool.” Not that Rose thought they did a particularly good job, but eh. If the cops tried to pin this on them then they’d really be incompetent. “They’re not gonna solve it, anyway.”
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isaac-tedri:
__
“Yeah, they did. They asked all of the typical questions, but I didn’t know either of them, so I couldn’t help them at all. Sad I’m not useful, right?” A dark joke, for sure, but Rose could take it. “What, did you try to sell to them, and they refused, so you spit in their faces? If all the crap in the true crime genre is true, these cops aren’t going to solve anything.”
“Uh, prison doesn’t sound super duper ultra fun, so no. But yes. They probably won’t solve shit. They got real interested in me when I told ‘em I couldn’t remember where I was. Me!” They honestly didn’t know whether to be annoyed or flattered by the assumption they could have anything to do with something as difficult as managing to take out two people. “Nah, I spit on him because the fucker put his hands on me. If I wasn’t shaped like the letter L I’d probably have clocked him instead.”
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closed starter for @now-its-3am
“If that thing’s real, those cops are fuckin’ idiots. Out here making me sound like some kinda kingpin. How are they gonna say my supposed motive is any clearer than yours?” Still, it’s easy to see Rose is agitated, and maybe a little too high. Their usually outlandish gestures and tone are all but gone, and they seem. Subdued. If that’s really what’s in the report, it’s a wonder they were allowed to just walk out. If it’s not, then. They might be fucked. “You’d tell me if you were the killer, right? No, no, don’t answer that. Just...if you are, don’t kill me. I’ll haunt your ass, I swear to God.”
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ofgeorgiapeached:
“Dude is doing their JOB like we do at work?” Georgia is used to the customer always being RIGHT. “So the real question is do you really fuck wives or do you just like to say that you do?” Curiosity gets the BEST of her these days. A chuckle coming from her as she works to quickly pull up her hair into a messy bun. “Because if you do? WOW. Can’t judge though.” Not that she has slept with a married man that she has known of.
“Well, yeah, but I’m pretty sure if I put my hands on someone at work I’d get, uh, fired. Dude’s on a power trip.” They shrugged, pausing to think if they had knowingly fucked anyone’s wife. “I mean...once or twice. It’s not something I make a habit out of. Johnson’s wife, though. Never fucked her. Don’t even know what she looks like.”
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this is all because I never experienced the triumphs and defeats the epic highs and lows of high school football
#{ i'm full of broken pieces & all my nights are sleepless || musings }#I SEARCHED FOR THIS FUCKING POST
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isaac-tedri:
___
“Isn’t that the truth,” Isaac said, snickering. “But, you know what, I’m glad you’re okay Rosie. Being in a police station is never an easy time. If you wanna chat about what they think you did, I’d be happy to hear you out.” Momentarily, Isaac had thought to ask to buy something from him, but he paused his thought. Selling was, well, a job, if a not honorable one, and no one wanted to go to work right after getting out of custody.
“No ‘thinking’ to be seen there, I’m afraid. But, oh, aren’t I so lucky he decided not to press charges?” Rose put the back of their hand to their forehead, feigning a swoon of sorts. It was far from the first time Rose had hassled an officer around time, but, c’mon, the other times were all in good fun. Officer Johnson just needed to stop being an asshole. “They interviewed you yet? Apparently they’re talking to everybody. Don’t spit at ‘em if they haven’t yet. They don’t like that.”
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now-its-3am:
Patrick had dragged pretty much every piece of clothing he owned down to the laundromat. There was nothing he hated more than laundry day. Which was exactly why laundry day only came when he really needed it. As he sat around outside waiting for his clothes in the dryer with a smoke in one hand, his brain quickly drifted off to thoughts of David. It still felt so far out that he was gone, and Pat couldn’t really seem to make it sink in just yet, wondering what would happen if he did. Hearing a voice in front of him, the man jumped slightly, quickly pulled out of his own thoughts. “Shit, sorry – I – didn’t see you there. What was that?”
“I said. You look like shit. You not sleeping again?” The fun part about small towns like Lakeview, if you could call it fun, was that Rose could , and often did, keep some pretty strange connections as part of their daily life. Patrick was one such strange connection. So of course, on the one day his apartment’s own washing machine decided to have a complete crap attack, he’d be the one outside. Eh, maybe he’d get some extra cash out of this. Always a bright side, right?
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It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, PTSDee (S12E07)
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ofgeorgiapeached:
“Are you trying to get your ass handed to you?” Georgia asks her coworker with a hint of a smile threatening to show through her otherwise annoyed expression. “Poking the police seems like a very BAD idea.” But it is very interesting and bold to do. Georgia might be BOLD in other ways but getting involved with law enforcement like that wouldn’t be one of them. “You really aren’t phased by the cops, are you?” TO her it was nerve wrecking to be drug down to the station and questioned.
“Not really. It’s not illegal to fuck your wife, Officer Johnson!” Rose leaned back at that, looking back around at Georgia and grinning again. “It is illegal to spit at cops, though. Kinda thought that was just something they said to keep us from spitting on them. Turns out, felony!” Rose wasn’t the type to outright talk about their past, but they’d hint at it. It made them sound cool, a bit mysterious. “Dude shouldn’t have pissed me off, that’s all.”
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“Tell your wife to call me!” Rose called behind themself as they left the police station, having spent the last few hours pestering some of the officers from a holding cell. Baby’s first almost-felony called for celebration! They were lame for not seeing that. Seeing that someone was watching the little spectacle unfold, they flashed the other a crooked grin. “Cops. No sense of humor. It’s a real shame, right?”
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Task 1: The Interview
Rose was no stranger to police stations. This situation, though. A bit new. Novel. Didn’t stop them from waving to some of the more familiar faces. Pulling the chair and spinning it to sit backwards in it, leaning against the table, the interrogating detectives didn’t seem all that amused. Oh, well.
“I’m Officer Johnson, this is Officer Yates. We’ll be the ones conducting your interview today.” Were they allowed to use “Officer” as an honorific without actually being a cop? It sounded badass. Something to think about. Oh, oh shit, introductions.
“Charmed. You can call me Rose.”
A beat. A momentary silence. Please let this one be homophobic. Oh, please please please please please! Rose didn’t have much going on, so spending a day or two in the clink didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. It might even be fun.
“Erm, alright...Rose. For our records, though, could you please state your full name?”
“Ambrose Wilde --that’s with an E, like Oscar-- Prince. You can call me Rosie, too, if you want. I just feel like Ambrose is better for, like, job interviews, y’know?” They could tone it down. They were fully aware of that. But where was the fun in that?
“Alright. And have you ever been known under any other name? Any aliases?”
Now it was Rose’s turn to squirm. Already with the personal questions. Not that they were too worried. Most of their record was sealed, anyway. They couldn’t dig up anything on them without a court order, and seeing as how they were, like, the least likely suspect --not the least of which because they didn’t do anything-- it was unlikely that was going to happen.
“You got a pen and paper? You won’t be able to spell it.” Upon being handed a pen and paper, they scribbled a name down. It wasn’t a deadname. Just...a name they outgrew. Also, it wasn’t cute. And they were very cute. They’d always been more of a Rose than a Zlatko. Handing it over to the officers, they raised an eyebrow in question. “Anything else?”
Rapid fire round this time.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight. Turning twenty-nine in June.”
“Where do you currently work?”
“La Scoglio. I’m a waiter.”
“How long have you lived in Lakeview?”
“Ten years.”
“What was your connection to Jack Masen?”
“I barely knew the guy. He worked at his parents’ bar, right? End of acquaintance.” Not entirely true. Had they sold to him, or was it one of his friends who was buying? It hardly mattered. They’d sold to their fair share of college kids in this town.
“What was your connection to Mary Beth Stanton?”
“Again. Didn’t really know her. The two of them were kinda young for me.”
“Where were you on April 7th, 2021 between 10 pm and midnight?“
“Don’t remember.”
That got the guy’s attention. Fuck. But, hell, what were they supposed to do, just tell the guy they were on a delivery? No thanks. And they couldn’t very well lie and say they were hanging out with anyone in town. They were the sort to wander, not really hang out. They rolled their eyes when the detective sat up a bit straighter.
“What do you mean, you don’t remember?” He asked, and Rose braced for the bullshit. “Two people were murdered that night. That happen to you often enough you can’t remember? Just another night for you? C’mon, man, you’ve gotta know how ridiculous that sounds.”
“First of all,” Rose spat back at him, not even bothering to sit up. “Don’t call me ‘man’. We’re not friends. I don’t know you. I don’t like you. Second, sue me, I don’t remember. I don’t really do much, and it was a few weeks ago. I didn’t know anyone involved, so it’s not exactly high up on my list of things to cry over every night. Maybe I was at home. I might’ve been seeing a movie. I could’ve been fucking your wife for all I can recall. Go home and ask her for me, yeah?”
They could see the detective’s eyebrow twitching. Good. Now they were both annoyed at their current situation.
“So. If you don’t remember where you were, I’m assuming there’s no one to corroborate your story.”
“Yup.”
“Alright. Next question. Did you see anyone heading out towards Route 9 on April 7th?“
“No.”
“If you don’t remember where you were, how are you so sure you didn’t see anything?”
“Because if I actually saw something, maybe I’d remember. I don’t remember, so I didn’t see anything. Clearly.”
They were really getting under his skin now. It was obvious. Rose knew a thing or two about contained rage, and boy howdy was this guy pissed. Halfway decent training, but not great. Some anger management courses might do him some good. Should they inquire about that? Maybe.
“Do you know anyone that might have had a motive to hurt Jack Masen and/or Mary Beth Stanton?”
“No. I barely knew them. Much less the people they hang around.”
“Is there anything else you’d like to tell us?”
“Can I go home?”
A pause. The detective pulled the tape recorder closer to himself, and turned it off. He looked at Rose and stood up, motioning for them to do the same.
“You’re free to go. Be sure and call us if you remember anything. Man.”
Rose jumped up so quickly the chair clattered to the floor, instantly in the detective’s face. They were barely able to get a word out before being shoved backwards, nearly losing their balance and toppling to the ground themself.
“I wouldn’t recommend that.”
Hm. Wonder if it’s illegal to spit at an officer.
Oh. Oh, yeah, that’s illegal.
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(maxence danet-fauvel, nonbinary, they/he/she) Welcome to Lakeview, AMBROSE “ROSE” PRINCE! We hear that you are 28 years old. You’ve been in town 10 YEARS? You should get to your job as a DEALER/WAITER at LA SCOGLIO. I hear that it fits your LOYAL and SELF SABOTAGING personality. Don’t be out on Route 9 alone!
basic information
full name: Ambrose Wilde Prince
nickname(s): Rose, Rosie
age: 28
date of birth: June 21, 1992
hometown: n/a
current location: Lakeview, Maryland
ethnicity: white
nationality: croatian-american
gender: nonbinary
pronouns: they/them, he/him, she/her. listed in order most often used, not necessarily preference
orientation: bisexual & biromantic
religion: catholic
political affiliation: leftist, vaguely
occupation: waiter & drug dealer
living arrangements: lives with a couple roommates
language(s) spoken: English, Croatian
accent: Flat, tried for years to not adopt any one “accent” in English.
physical appearance
face claim: maxence danet-fauvel
hair color: brown
eye color: blue
height: 5′11
build: lanky/thin
tattoos: none
piercings: none
clothing style: hoodies in almost every weather, their idea of “nice pants” are jeans without holes, scuffed up converse
distinguishing characteristics: perpetually tired expression, messy hair
health
physical ailments: none
neurological conditions: c-ptsd, anxiety
allergies: pet dander, eggs
sleeping habits: struggles to sleep sober
eating habits: doesn’t eat regularly, lingering issues around food
exercise habits: no thank you
emotional stability: will tell you they’re totally stable, will also fall apart if the slightest thing goes wrong
sociability: doesn’t make a habit of keeping a lot of friends, will open up and show a softer side if they do consider you a friend
body temperature: constantly cold. hands are freezing At All Times
drug use: weed, shrooms, sometimes harder stuff but reallllly tries not to make a habit of it
alcohol use: yes
personality
label: the ruinous
positive traits: loyal, gregarious, dedicated
negative traits: self sabotaging, reactive, artificial
fears: small spaces, being bitten by a fish
hobbies: calligraphy, poetry, getting shitfaced
habits: smokes too much, chews the skin of their lip
favourites
weather: windy, but not rainy
colour: purple
music: lil peep, pierce the veil, sleeping with sirens
movies: studio ghibli films
sport: soccer
beverage: clamato (ew)
food: baked potatoes
animal: hippopotamus
family
father: tbd*
mother: [REDACTED]
sibling(s): none that he claims
children: none
pet(s): none (yet)
family’s financial status: lower working class
extra
zodiac sign: Cancer
mbti: ESFP
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I've done nothing wrong. Except for all the atrocities. Besides that I'm innocent
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