New Member
"You are losing my interest, and that is very dangerous."
Personal Text
Noble
Rank
chef des travaux anatomiques
Occupation
|
Roux
Offline
He/Him
Tag me @antoine
|
|
Post by Hippolyte Barthélemy on Mar 23, 2021 22:36:44 GMT
They could, indeed, linger here for hours. Though, knowing them, if they were to stay here, in this state of total relaxation, for too long, it was only a short matter of time before they went for another round. It was still a risk of doing so even if they were getting dressed to leave, of course, Hippolyte having previously found it hard to resist unlacing those stays again after seeing Connor come back together again between the walls of cotton and whalebone. He cut such a fine figure - there was a part of Hippolyte who hated the lack of places in London where his man would be appreciated properly. Hippolyte listened with full attention while Connor listed off the names, some familiar some not. His fingers meanwhile playing with a stray curl, staying close to not disturb Connor's light grasp of his wrist. He knew he could count on him to be informed, as always, a clever and observant man. In their profession, their science, it was an constant distribution of both patients and peers to understand. "Ah yes, I'm seeing Anwyl tomorrow, I should enquire then about Guthrie." He wouldn't be there tonight, thankfully, it was always a trial making conversation with the man in a crowd. This was of course nothing against him, he merely had a temperament that made him ill-suited, and Hippolyte would be more than happy to speak fondly of him to his colleagues to make up for his absence. He thought for a moment on Abernathy, severing their physical connection as he brushed his own hair out of his face. "Abernathy, I suspect would be interesting, yes, I would appreciate your introduction. I have to make my turns among the old guard as well, you know how it is." It felt almost odd to be planning like this, to exploit every moment he had around their peers, but such was habit upon his visits. This time, however, he had ample time. It was his first whole season in over a decade where he would be in London for its duration. Not merely a week or two of operating and making connections. Breathing room, how foreign a concept that was. Frivolous matters, which demanded their own time, was also something unusual. Thank God he would be active at the Royal College for most of his stay, he could hardly afford to be so long away from his own operating table at home otherwise. Though Connor's presence was making an excellent argument for being quite happy indeed about where he found himself right now. He exhaled softly and laid down a bit more to properly stretch out his limbs, only incurring a minor invasion of Connor's side of the bed. "Is there anything else of note?" he breathed out as his leg extended and his back arched. He looked up at him with a wry smile. "I do not suppose you have spent your time in this city among the debutantes and the gossipmongers, hm?" Connor Morrison
|
|
New Member
"You are losing my interest, and that is very dangerous."
Personal Text
Noble
Rank
chef des travaux anatomiques
Occupation
|
Roux
Offline
He/Him
Tag me @antoine
|
|
Post by Hippolyte Barthélemy on Mar 22, 2021 23:52:22 GMT
No more was the boy steadfastly matching his father's pace along the rolling hills, checking on the status of his brother on their journeys up to the vantage point, so that they might see the summer storms roll in across the landscape. Most fathers tended to let their sons grow up under the tutelage of peers and teachers, but to Hippolyte's surprise, being around the late Lord Bridgerton had also inevtiably meant being around his children, and, most consistently, his eldest son. He had seemed so small back then, certainly he'd had to grow into the weight of the world after his father's unfortunate death. That he had not avoided hearing about, even if he hadn't seen any of the family since before the late Lord Bridgerton's death, the oldest son tossed into a whole new world of responsibility. Now, he stood there before him, fully filling out his adult frame, the marks of age upon his face, but still those same eyes. "Ah, it is been only a small decade I believe." He laughed, taking his hand in a firm greeting while smiling wide. "I see the city has tamed you, vicomte! Have you become an old man like the rest of us?" There was an obvious tone of mischeif to his voice and a glint in his eyes. Certainly, Hippolyte seemed more sedate, too, than the young man in his pantaloons and browntops who'd race out through the misty fields at dawn to catch his game at breakneck speed. Of course, part of him still very much was that wild man, but that wild man was not a part of the smoky and languid rooms of the club. As always, appearances upon appearances upon appearances. Anthony Bridgerton
|
|
New Member
"You are losing my interest, and that is very dangerous."
Personal Text
Noble
Rank
chef des travaux anatomiques
Occupation
|
Roux
Offline
He/Him
Tag me @antoine
|
|
Post by Hippolyte Barthélemy on Mar 22, 2021 23:08:23 GMT
As Connor spoke, Hippolyte smiled, feeling the way his throat moved underneath his hand as he did. Some anatomical observations were on his mind, some notes of the tendons and muscles, the healthy pulse beneath his thumb - had he been in their previous mindset he might have experimented a bit with that pulse but ah, that was for another time. That it might be unusual for Hippolyte to linger like this, enjoy his scant free time in the sunlight and stillness, did not register. To him, these intimacies, as they were, meant nothing much. It was a show of trust, certainly, but also a consequence of seizing a pleasant opportunity as it presented itself to him. Usually both their schedules were too busy to spare these moments. Connor always seemed to follow his train of thought, it was a great relief to be around him, not needing to waste his time on politenesses and explanation, cutting right to the bone, whether it be in their more passionate moments or in simple scientific discourse. "I did, yes, impressive young man, I'm relieved he is with you and not wasted on lesser instructors." his voice rumbled a bit low as he spoke, letting go of his pulse to brush his knuckles over his neck before shifting slightly to the side so that he could look at him better. He did look wonderful in the light of the afternoon. "and here? Anyone of interest in London?" Connor Morrison
|
|
New Member
"You are losing my interest, and that is very dangerous."
Personal Text
Noble
Rank
chef des travaux anatomiques
Occupation
|
Roux
Offline
He/Him
Tag me @antoine
|
|
Post by Hippolyte Barthélemy on Mar 21, 2021 16:48:52 GMT
The afternoon sun filtered harshly through the heavy linen drapes of the bedroom, lighting up the dust swirling in the air. The room had grown quiet, as movement stilled into languid lounging and harsh breathing turned softer, and now, there was nothing but the quiet shuffle of the sheets and blankets as Hippolyte emerged briefly into the ray of sunlight to extract his snuff box from his waistcoat. The gilt edges gleamed in the sunlight as he extracted it, and the contemplative quiet was briefly broken as he took a sniff in either nostril, before placing it on the bedside table should Connor want to partake. He exhaled with satisfaction and opened the window just enough to start to air out the room. The Lord Morrison's townhouse was well furnished and handsome in its own right, but as these things went, they were wholly alone in this moment. Connor, the forward-thinking man, had ensured that. There, was another thing he preferred back home, though the liberties they could still take here was worth having to contend the lack of servants. Truly, he saw the use in the men who preferred to seduce their valets, but Hippolyte was quite fortunate that Connor was a fastidious dresser. In return for helping lace up his stays to their proper tightness, he was certain to lend him a newly starched cravat now that he noticed his laying in some crumpled up form near the doorway, not far away from Connor's gleaming waistcoat. It was a pleasant moment like this. Quiet and still. Neither of them had any pressing appointments, nor were any eyes or ears lurking in the walls. Hippolyte placed himself back in the embrace of the sheets, taking in the figure of Connor as he laid there next to him. The irregular marks dotting the Scotsman's upper body, darkening by the second, suited him as well as any silk waistcoat would, however. Hippolyte smiled crookedly as he felt the way the swollen areas of his chest were warmer underneath his fingers while he followed the line of his collarbone. Fine man. Certainly a resilient one. A quite convenient friendship. Connor was of the sort who had thankfully not grown into his born role, but actually harboured both passion and ambition to a great degree. He seemed determined, like Hippolyte, that his accomplishments should be those of his own work, not the nepotism that infected the hospitals of the so-called Great Britain. He had potential. Moreover, he was interesting, and had a knack for collecting useful informations on their peers. It would always be in moments like there, when they would finally have the space to speak truly and in detail. Hippolyte hummed as he brushed a thumb over his pulse and asked in a quiet voice, "Hmm, how have the British Isles been treating you? I've been so contained at home, hardly many interesting news pass to me outside yours and Anwyl's letters." Connor Morrison
|
|
New Member
"You are losing my interest, and that is very dangerous."
Personal Text
Noble
Rank
chef des travaux anatomiques
Occupation
|
Roux
Offline
He/Him
Tag me @antoine
|
|
Post by Hippolyte Barthélemy on Mar 21, 2021 13:51:17 GMT
A return to the British Isles was not entirely unusual, but the return of Dr. Barthélemy to his social peers amongst the English, was. In the past tumultuous decade, he had made little time for much diversions on his visits. Well, beyond the essentials of course, but those were not in the daytime nor in the eyes of high society. Interesting diversions were allowed today. The season was on and the city was abuzz with a youthful sentiment, making one almost forget the slaughter of the battlefields - only just cooled and seemingly promptly forgotten by the muslin-clad classes. Here was no room for tragedy and mortality, it was a season of machinations of joy. Theoretically speaking. Not that such affairs were of great interest to Barthélemy himself, no, he found the whole song and dance rather dull, but the sentiments and the politics at play could be of interest. Today was also business, he had conducted a demonstration of his newly published technique at the Royal College of Surgeons earlier, and now skirted his scientific peers and their students running at his heels. Later he would dine with them, but for now his mind was firmly beyond the scope of the knife and sutures of the operating theatre. Certainly, the neatly kept rooms of the club commanded a neatness in its visitors too, and an order to forget the dirt and grime beyond its walls. He left his cloak and hat in the care of the valet, leaving the world of the surgeon and entering the world of the gentleman, all traces of blood scrubbed from his fine hands. In his sharply cut Parisian suit and erect posture assisted by the rice-starched cravat upon his neck, Hippolyte strode inside the club proper. He found most faces of the smoking at least somewhat familiar, familiar enough to greet. Few things seemed to change in London. Politenesses were exchanged back and forth between the puffs of tobacco smoke and sips of brandy. No one notable enough to mind nor record, though that could not be said for the young man who caught his eye. He had certainly grown into his position. Last he had seen the man it had only been a few years before the untimely death of his father, young and brash as most boys tend to be, leading his pack of siblings. Certainly, such experience in commanding had only served to help him these past few years he should think, with a touch of amusement at the memory. "Ah, vicomte Bridgerton it must be now!" he said with a joyful smile as he made to greet him. Anthony Bridgerton
|
|
New Member
"You are losing my interest, and that is very dangerous."
Personal Text
Noble
Rank
chef des travaux anatomiques
Occupation
|
Roux
Offline
He/Him
Tag me @antoine
|
|
Post by Hippolyte Barthélemy on Mar 20, 2021 19:39:36 GMT
| ~ • ~ | Character Basics | ~ • ~ |
.:Name:. Antoine Louis Anatole Joseph, Marquis Roux de Corse Dr. Hippolyte Bathélemy .:Nick Name:. None. .:Rank:. Noble / Chirurgien de 1ière classe .:Age:. Born the 3rd of August, 1772 (41 years old as of 1813)
| ~ • ~ | Appearance | ~ • ~ |
.:Physical Appearance:. Tall, overall pointy, moving in very deliberate and smooth ways, exactly set hair and kept moustache, a sort of calm and reassured air about him at most times, with a smile that rarely shows teeth. He has some muscle, and a certain contained power about him, assisted by his general physically active hobbies which contain fencing and hunting on horseback. A couple of small scars mark his hands from early scalpel mistakes, but they are almost faded as much as to be gone now. .:Height:. 180cm .:Portrayed by:. Robert de Montesquiou
| ~ • ~ | Personality | ~ • ~ |
.:Personality:. Dr. Barthélemy is above all, very sociable and amicable, perhaps it is because he believes that a patient at ease is one who is less troublesome, or perhaps he just enjoys a friendly atmosphere and discussion. He has been known as a charming man amongst the upper echeleons of social circles, from where he has very practiced dinner party etiquette, always ready to entertain a guest.
He is of a cool temperament, and is rarely seen in any high tempers at all, even at the screams of the patients as they struggle against his knife. Aside from practicing medicine, he also has a great interest in the Classics which he studied at university as a scholarly pursuit, and has a passable ability to play the piano, two things he will gladly trot out to make a social event slightly more interesting. Art fascinates him, though he is not an artist but rather in his words 'a patron of beauty'.
While not as extreme as some others, being no jacobin, he does believe in the liberal philosophies, and distances himself politically from the old world. He finds people fundamentally fascinating, and often looks for potential beyond the bounds of expectation, something which has been to his great benefit in his career and, he should think, to the development of surgery as a science in his circles.
.:Skills:. Advanced surgical technique, high social graces, other skills befitting his station(fencing, dancing, par-force hunting) .:Weaknesses:. Lack of empathy, controversial, commanding some sentiments less genteel, vain
| ~ • ~ | History | ~ • ~ |
.:Birthplace:. Provence; the ancestral home .:Family:. The late Marquis Roux de Corse was his father, he has inherited the sizeable estate and seat in Provence. His mother, however, is the one fulfilling the duties pertaining to it and upon her death it is questionable whether the property and its environs will remain in the family. .:Occupation:. Chef de trevaux anatomiques at L'ecole de Médecine in Paris
.:History:.
It is all fairly straight-forward when one looks at it from a distance; Dr. Barthélemy was born to fairly established parents in Provence, nobility of an old class. Something he did not get to enjoy to a great extent, as it was only some years into his childhood before his parents had to evacuate their seat in France to England, for fear of losing everything. Perhaps thank to their geographical position, and skill at being under the radar, their holdings survived the revolution unscathed, and their son who had always had a keen interest in medicine, was able to study and practice during the time of the Terrors. He quickly marked himself as a capable surgeon and physician, but it was always the knife which spoke to him the most.
Following his education, he established himself in Paris, continuing practice there and finding great joy and challenge in dissection. With the excuse of writing surgical manuals, he started work with the Paris anatomical academy, his skills of technique and presentation earning a professorship with time. As the embers of revolution dulled themselves into the first empire, it was once more stable and his parents returned to the country at the start of the century, finding their son quite an accomplished man in his own right. His parents managed the property down south meanwhile, but when his father passed from a cholera outbreak at the end of the 1800s, he was forced to split his time between the scientific pursuit, and managing his estate. This was short-lived however, and only a few years after going south, he was back in Paris. Perhaps the life of a country marquis was simply not to his taste.
Already in the early campaigns of the war, he was called upon and met the challenge readily. He attended as a field surgeon throughout the Napoleonic wars, working directly under Larrey. Since the war, he has finally returned to Paris full time, to the great joy of the medical community(and his patients not from the mud of the battlefield). He is currently in London following a short engagement at Edinburgh where he presented some of his most recent techniques and research.
| ~ • ~ | Member Info | ~ • ~ |
.:Name or Online Alias:. Roux .:How Did You Find Us:. Iris dragged me here
|
|
New Member
"You are losing my interest, and that is very dangerous."
Personal Text
Noble
Rank
chef des travaux anatomiques
Occupation
|
Roux
Offline
He/Him
Tag me @antoine
|
|
Post by Hippolyte Barthélemy on Mar 20, 2021 19:01:09 GMT
Greetings Hippolyte Barthélemy ! Thank you for your question! In regards to your suggestion as the war being over where the plot takes place, there was actually a war mentioned in the show however the details were not made clear. We are also a fluid timeline, which means you can bring in your character after the war if you'd like, and you can still have threads that fit into the timeline as we are not necessarily focused on one singular year! Threads can take place after 1813. It is truly up to the role player as to when in time they would like threads to take place!
Because the details of the war are unclear, we can also provide another suggestion: which is that if you would like to say that the war is over, then that of course is fine! However, if something occurs in the show that contradicts this (i.e. if next season they reference the war, or provide more details about it) then we may have to ask for edits to be made to fit the canon of the plot!
I hope that helps clarify your question/suggestion! Please let me know if you have any more! Thanks so much and looking forward to seeing you bring your character to life here on the board![/blockqoute]
That helps very much, thank you ! I would like to live in the limbo of war is over as of now, but if this is contradicted, then I have no problem moving things around
|
|
New Member
"You are losing my interest, and that is very dangerous."
Personal Text
Noble
Rank
chef des travaux anatomiques
Occupation
|
Roux
Offline
He/Him
Tag me @antoine
|
|
Post by Hippolyte Barthélemy on Mar 20, 2021 18:09:56 GMT
Hello, I mentioned this in the cbox before but i figured it might be best to ask more formally here. What is our status on the napoleonic wars? I know we write 1813, but as far as I can tell, the series is very 'history lite' so to speak and doesn't seem to concern itself with the idea of there being a literal war on in any societally affecting scale.
I would like to, very selfishly, put forth that maybe the war is over where we are in the plot right now? My character is french and would be part of napoleon's army, so I'm finding it hard to get a good way to slot him into london in a way that makes sense unless i rewrite his background entirely
|
|