#Jacques Kensington

[kursed-curtain]

The Toppat Leaders! (Just the ones I hadn't designed until now) (+ headcanons & design notes)

I gotta give a lotta thanks to @bluetorchsky for helping me brainstorm stuff bout these guys ^^

[flowerbarrel-art]

(Original Screenshots)

[thsc-confessions]

"Dragon Jaques Kensington is a contender for my favorite headcanon and I've built up countless amounts of lore around it." submitted by @the-starry-inkwell

[jaytoons7]

Hehehehe. We like to get silly with our RPs sometimes >:)

I roleplay a lot :)…. And sometimes I like to go WILD >:)

Ladies and Gentlemen…. I PRESENT TECHNICALLY THE DISNEY AU’S I MADE WITH THE STICKS >:)

First up: Princess and the Frog with Danny as Tiana and Crusher (by @jaytoons7 ) as Prince Naveen >:)

Terrence as the butler Laurence and Jaques Kensington as Dr. Facilier (aka the shadow man)

Another AU would be The Little Mermaid! Starring Scottie (by @jaytoons7 )as Ariel and Charles as Eric! A romantic love story >:)

Another would be Beauty and the Beast starring Danny as Belle and Crusher as the Beast! >:)

And Terrence as obviously Gaston!

And lastly this AU is NOT MINE it belongs to @androidcharles but I had to add it here >:)

Amelia in Wonderland :D

Reginald as the mad hare and The Mayor as the Mad Hatter and Amelia by ( @androidcharles ) as Alice!

And Crusher as the King of Hearts, Danny as the Queen of Hearts, and Burt Curtis as the Cheshire Cat!

[kaze-writes]

A/N: I don't think I've been this apprehensive to share a story in a long long time, and not (only) because it's a (mild) smut. I've spent months and months with Jaz, Leon and the crew but realised they've never been formally introduced to here so... be gentle with me them.

Infra-Red

Summary: In which Jaz and Leon get a little too distracted during an award show. Warning: This story contains explicit NSFW content. Anyone below the age of 18 or uncomfortable with this topic is advised not to interact.

Everyone's living in black and white We see each other in a different light That’s why I look at you like I do Like nobody else is even in the room

~ Three Days Grace - Infra-Red ~

Award shows were Jaz’s favourites. 

There was just something about them - the colourful hustle and bustle, the tension and excitement, the sheer force of the emotions as prizes were handed out and tear-filled speeches were given on stage.

And then, there were the afterparties, of course; a chance for everyone to let down their hair without getting harassed by journalists. There usually was great music involved, free drinks, catching up with old friends and making new ones, the air abuzz with talent, inspiration and good vibes.

The particular award show the members of Equinox were currently headed to promised just that, and Jaz was fidgeting in her evening gown, impatient to finally get going. Jacques, the band’s stylist, tutted and slapped her hand away as she reached for the satin strap that had wandered up her shoulder.

“Stop that.” Giving her a disapproving look as he pulled the strap back into place. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” Jaz glanced at herself in the floor-length mirror Jacques had set up. Self-consciously, she ran her hand over the shimmering red satin. “Is it really necessary to –”

“I spent an eternity sourcing this dress,” Jacques said sternly, brushing his hand almost reverently over the smooth fabric. “If you ruin this vision I created out of you, I’ll make you wear Primark for the rest of your miserable, unstylish life. Now stop complaining.”

“What’s wrong with Primark?” 

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Jacques muttered, rubbing his temples and handing Jaz a bag that was so tiny she could hardly fit her phone, lipstick and a handful of hairpins in. 

He ushered her out the door of the big townhouse in Kensington, belonging to Equinox’s manager and mentor Rich Cameron, to where the rest of the band was already waiting for their car to arrive. 

Rich Cameron himself, dressed in a sharply tailored suit, was looking at his watch impatiently, typing something into his phone every now and again.

“About bloody time you got ready. I was about to go in there and get you out myself.”

“You can’t rush art,” Jacques said indignantly in Jaz’s stead, picking up his bag. He silently pointed at his eyes with one hand, then at Jaz but there was a gleam in his eyes as he blew them all a kiss and vanished into the brightly-lit London night.

Everett James, their band’s lead singer, raised his eyes from his phone and whistled audibly.

”Looking hot, Jaz.” He grinned at Leon, who stood next to him with an unreadable expression and elbowed him in the side. “I’m gonna need her standing next to me, that’s for sure.”

Leon mumbled something in return Jaz couldn’t hear and turned away, seemingly indifferent, but the appreciative flash in his eyes as he looked her up and down hadn’t been lost on Jaz. She knew that look. Warmth pooled in her stomach and she tried not to look at him further as they waited. She was going to have enough of it before the night was over. 

Half an hour, two traffic jams and diversions and an almost-fit from Rich later, they finally arrived at the venue, the red carpet rolled out there flanked by rows of people clutching bulky, expensive-looking cameras. They began flashing as Mel stepped from their limousine first, sequins on her midnight blue suit rattling, and the screams and lights intensified when the whole ensemble finally posed side by side to have their picture taken. 

Jaz embraced the hecticness, smiling at the photographers she soon wasn’t able to see from the blinding lights. 

Next to her, Leon had casually shoved one hand into the pocket of his suit so that his stack of colourful bracelets was showing against his tanned skin, the other resting on the small of Jaz’s exposed back. 

Her smile never faltered, but Jaz was aware of every point of skin Leon was touching with his fingers, a pleasant twist going through her stomach whenever he moved or adjusted his hand. He began tapping her skin, wandering them along her spine in movements too minuscule for anyone but her to notice. She shivered, her core pulling together. Fighting the urge to look at him, Jaz’s eyes and smile remained trained on the photographers documenting their every move, but she knew which look she’d find there if she did. The thought of his small, slightly crooked smile, which always made him look like he knew something no one else did, did nothing to make her body stop tingling.

They were about to head inside, already out of sight of the cameras, when Leon gently touched her arm.

Jaz obediently let herself fall back - subtly, so the others wouldn’t notice - and between two heartbeats, Leon bent down to her, his hot breath brushing her cheek as he whispered something into her ear. Then he was gone again, catching up to Mara, leaving Jaz to walk behind them with heat spreading from her stomach into the rest of her.

Their table was rather to the back of the room, further from the stage than Rich would have liked. He kept on complaining but Jaz didn’t mind the obscurity created by the spots directed at the front of the room. Mel was chatting to her about the results of last week’s football match - “Celtic should have gotten that penalty, I swear to bloody God!” - but Jaz couldn’t bring herself to do much more than nod every now and again. Beneath the table, Leon, who was sitting on her other side talking to Mara, had his leg pressed against hers, the heat coming off his body palpable despite the cool air streaming from the ventilation shafts. She could smell his aftershave, mixed with a subtle hint of the hairspray Jacques had used to give his hair the perfectly messed-up look that made Jaz want to run her hand through it. She was burning with impatience now, making her leg bounce up and down, causing even more friction between her and Leon.

Hadn’t she known better, she would've thought Leon hadn’t noticed her restlessness. He looked like nothing was amiss, the only indication of being aware of Jaz the shifting of his leg, brushing along the patch of bare skin accessible through the slit in her skirt, and the barely perceptible smirk he gave her when she tensed. Her leg bounced faster and she did her best not to squirm in her seat, biting her lip almost painfully to keep from gasping when he brought his hand to her thigh beneath the table and squeezed it tightly. 

‘Go,’ his brief look at her seemed to say before he turned back to Mara again, and Jaz needn’t be told twice.

She raised herself from her seat and hastily left the table with a mumbled excuse. Even as she walked away, she could feel Leon’s eyes on her back. When she had left the increasingly bustling hall behind and entered the now quiet hallway, her phone buzzed in her handbag. She checked the message, looking left and right as she followed the short instructions on her screen.

Rounding a corner, even the last traces of activity ceased and Jaz was alone. A little further ahead, she could spot her destination but when she made her way to it, she found the door of the storage closet she’d been aiming at locked.

Well, shit.

Knowing that she couldn’t linger, Jaz unceremoniously plucked a pin from the elaborate updo Jacques had twisted her hair into and got to work. When Leon arrived a couple of minutes later, he was surprised to already find her waiting inside.

“I thought it’d be locked.”

“You sent me to a room you thought was locked?”

“Didn’t have much time studying the floor plan, did I?” 

“I suppose not.” Jaz smiled innocently. “And it was locked.”

“Then how did you…”

She raised her hand with the hairpin still lodged between her index and middle finger. “Perks of living with Mel.”

“Do I really want to know?” 

“Depends.”

“On what?”

Jaz slipped from the small table she’d been sitting on and placed her hand on his chest. “On whether you came here for talking.”

Not wasting another word, Leon bent to kiss her. Their mouths met greedily, hungrily, his lips tasting of the champagne they’d been served at the table. Jaz sighed as his tongue slipped into her mouth, his hands moving from her waist to the exposed skin of her back. Their kiss deepening, Leon pushed her back against the table and she let him lift her upwards onto the tabletop again.

His tie was discarded as soon as it was loose enough, Leon’s shirt following soon after as Jaz unbuttoned it with flying fingers. Her fingers spanned the countless pictures inked into his skin for a moment, but she was soon distracted when Leon dipped his head to her throat, leaving a burning trail of kisses in his wake. She slung her arm around his neck, arching her back to meet him, both their breaths coming heavily. 

When they locked lips again and Leon's fingers trailed from her spine up into her artfully arranged hair, Jaz was reluctant to have to pull away.

“Stop that,” she gasped, the sound turning into a barely subdued moan as Leon ran his finger along her temple and cheekbones, coming to rest on her lower lip.

“Why would I?”

“Because I can’t walk out of here looking like I just had a shag, can I?” 

Leon hummed. “I like that look on you.”

Catching Leon’s hands still playing with her hair, she guided them to where the fabric of her dress parted at her thigh to allow more room for motion. 

“I know other things your hands could do, though.” 

With a mischievous smirk that made her core pull together, Leon slipped his hands beneath the cool satin and onto her burning skin. His hands were rough as they pushed the fabric upwards, spanning Jaz’s thighs with the exact amount of pressure that made her dip her head back in pleasure. She shuddered as Leon brought his mouth to her chest, tracing the outline of her breasts where the red satin of her dress began. 

“I love this dress,” he murmured against her skin, making Jaz sigh, “but honestly, I’d prefer you out of it.”

Almost reluctantly, Jaz pulled away from him and hooked her fingers under the loops of his belt. “I thought you’d never get to the point.” 

Leon laughed darkly, arms enveloping her as he kissed her again, more roughly than before. Jaz met his pace, blindly pulling his belt away and undoing his flies as he lifted her from the table and turned her around. She steadied herself against the wall with her hand, one foot set onto one of the boxes littering the floor. Leon was pressing against her from behind, the heat of him compensating for the chilly air hitting her skin as he pushed her dress further up and up.

“What’s that, drummer girl?” he murmured into her ear, his breath hot against her neck. “No underwear?” 

She shot a teasing look over her shoulder even though her knees were close to buckling as Leon parted her legs with his hands and let them wander continuously higher. “Complaining, are we?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The grip on her shoulder tightened, and Jaz stifled a moan when he pushed inside of her. They had been doing this game for long enough to find their rhythm immediately, and it was all she could do not to cry out as Leon moved against her. The pace he set was quick, as much because of their shortage of time as of their mutual need, and Jaz did her best to match him. With every thrust she pushed herself against him, delighting in the friction she caused that way which made her head spin.

It wasn’t long before she felt the heat beginning to pool in her stomach, the familiar tingle beginning to grow. When she thought she couldn’t contain it any longer, Leon’s fingers dug into her skin, the ends of his hair brushing her collarbone as he buried his face against her neck, shuddering as he came. Jaz allowed herself to let go as well, fireworks exploding in front of her eyes as her high rolled over her. Clasping her hand in front of her mouth, she stifled the cry dropping from her lips. 

Tension leaving her body, she let herself collapse onto the tabletop in front of her. After the long moment it took for her to find her bearings again, she propped herself onto her elbows, brushing one of the locks that had fallen from her updo after all from her face with shaky hands.

“You alright?”

Leon ran his hand down her spine but there was no fire behind the gesture anymore, only genuine concern at her prolonged silence. Laughing breathily, Jaz turned to him, brushing her skirt down as she did so.

“Never better.” 

From beyond the door and down the hallway, the faint sound of clapping could be heard. Using the dusty mirror propped against the wall, Jaz quickly reapplied her lipstick and smoothed down her hair. When she was done, she studied Leon’s reflection behind her; his hair, which had been messy to begin with, was in even more of a state than before and there was a distinct red mark next to his mouth from her lipstick. Having tapped her face in the corresponding spot, he quickly wiped it off. 

“It’s a good thing you always look like you just got out of bed anyway.” 

Leon, in the process of buckling up his belt again, paused and raised one eyebrow at her. “I didn’t when I arrived here.” 

Chuckling, Jaz stepped towards the door, purposefully brushing against Leon as she did so. She lingered there, laying one hand against his cheek and raising her chin as if to kiss him.

A look of surprise flickering over his face he leaned in, closing his eyes, but before their lips could touch, Jaz pulled away with a smirk.

“Five minutes,” she breathed, her words ghosting over his lips. “See you at the show.”

And with that, she slipped from the room, leaving Leon behind. Making sure that no one had seen her, she quickly smoothed down her dress and made her way back towards the venue. 

When she reached their table, the opening show had just begun. Rich gave her a dark look as she took her seat and turned back to the stage. When his attention was elsewhere, Mel leaned in, whispering,

“Where have you fucking been?”

Jaz pursed her lips and shrugged. “Fucking somewhere else.”

“Say a word next time you choose to disappear into the nether,” Mel rolled her eyes. “Leon went to find you.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, didn’t you see him?”

The lie left her lips smoothly. “Not at all.”

“I bet he went to get something that makes this shit a little more fun,” Everett threw in from the other side of Mel. “He could have said something, at least. I would have joined him.”

Jaz bit the insides of her cheek. “No doubt about that.”

“Diversion can be found in the strangest of places, if you only look for them, my friend.” 

Leon had appeared behind them, having come from the opposite entrance of the one Jaz had come through. His smile was level as he slipped into his seat but the way his lips twitched as his eyes grazed Jaz wasn’t lost on her. 

Everett’s look seemed to say ‘I told you so’ but Jaz only sipped on her champagne, eyes pointedly trained at the stage. Trying not to smirk, she spun the hairpin Leon had pressed into her palm beneath the table between her fingers.

Award shows truly were her favourites. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As promised, I do deliver @drinkyoursoupbitch. Thank you @flareshin for being my favourite helpful artist friend.

[digital-roots]

Jacques Kensington is so powerful and otherwordly i dont even think he has an hv au form rather he crosses between the THSC world and the HV AU effortlessly without worrying about The Bend inbetween and just swaps his top hat for a cow boy hat

he still dicks around and does fuck all because he's peculiar like that. i love him i kind of want him in a jar of some sort just to keep

AJAJWHAHAAH thats really funny actually. The Cowwoys being confused on who this guy is ("he's got a cowboy hat so he might be one of us...") and when they ask him hes like 'oh im a new guy yeah i just got recruited yesterday' and then later on he's somehow infiltrated tvogxart. He could totally help the cowwoys or hell even join TVOG but he just stays there and wanders around for the funsies

[jembrooke]

Sir James Jebusa Shannon, R.A. (1862-1923)

The Silver Ship

Price realisedGBP 33,460

The son of Irish parents James Jebusa Shannon was born in Auburn, New York. Aged sixteen he camed to London in 1878 and studied at the Government Art Training School, South Kensington. He made his debut at the Royal Academy aged 19 when he exhibited a portrait of the Hon. Horatia Stopford in 1881, and Mrs Henry Bourke in 1882, both portraits of Ladies in Waiting having been commissioned by Queen Victoria. Although he received his art education in England, Shannon was touched by the current fashion for square-brush handling which emanated from the Paris ateliers. By the mid-1890s he was considered 'as virtually court painter for Violet, Duchess of Rutland' (Kenneth McConkey, Edward Portraits, Woodbridge, 1987, p. 119). She was an amateur artist remarkable for her precocious talent and was exhibiting professionally by the age of twenty-two at the Grosvenor Gallery, newly opened by her cousin Sir Coutts Lindsay. She was one of the most brilliant members of the aristocratic and aesthetic circle known as 'The Souls' and her outstanding beauty inspired several of the leading artists of the day including Jacques Emile Blanche and George Frederic Watts, although Shannon was her favourite.

George Moore acknowledged him as 'the man born to paint English duchesses' despite considering him socially ambitious and it is said that wives lingered in front of his work and demanded of their husbands 'Why can't you afford to let me be painted by Mr Shannon?'. He was a founder member of the New English Art Club in 1886 and exhibited there under Whistler's regime but resigned in 1892. During the 1890s his style broadened under the influence of Sargent, so much so that he was even considered by some as his rival. Shannon was awarded medals for portraiture in Paris, Berlin and Vienna, and his paintings The Flower Girl and Phil May were purchased by the Chantrey Bequest for the Tate Gallery in 1901. In 1901 he became the President of the Royal Society of Portrait Painters and he became a full Academician in 1909 He was knighted in 1922.

It is likely that The Silver Ship dates from the 1890s as during that decade there were a number of small-scale fashion revivals including the leg-of-mutton sleeve which became increasingly voluminous in the mid-1890s. These 'balloon' sleeves, very much in evidence here, were often worn off-the-shoulder and terminated in deep forearm cuffs of the sort which had been popular in the reign of Louis Philippe.

Shannon painted several works of this period in which the subject was in an 'action pose'. For this he was considered 'an artist and a portrait painter afterwards' by Lewis Hind writing in the Studio (1896; vol. VII, p. 68). The lady in The Silver Ship is as yet unidentified and poses holding the object of the title. Aesthetic harmony is of paramount importance over and above likeness and it was this aesthetic interest that gave Shannon his international standing and recognition.

[petnews2day]

Cat Tossed From Vehicle in Pennsylvania, Rescued by Passerby

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/xJDQj

Cat Tossed From Vehicle in Pennsylvania, Rescued by Passerby

(Photo Credit: Jacques Julien | Getty Images) A cat was recently tossed out of a vehicle in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Fortunately, a kind woman witnessed the scene and promptly rescued the feline. She brought the cat to Frankie’s Friends animal rescue in New Kensington. The rescue is asking for everyone’s cooperation to help figure out the […]

See full article at https://petn.ws/xJDQj #CatsNews

[kursed-curtain]

Collection of Jacques Kensington doodles as I figure out the funny painting guy!

[mvmandtravelagency]

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[attibar]

While working on that animation I caught some headcanon brainrot. What would going feral look for each of the Toppat Chiefs? Some poor soul or souls had crossed them. Lol FlamingRedAnon I blame you for this.

Dusty and Cloudface: When both were alive they worked in perfect sync with one another. It makes sense that if you anger one you’re getting the full package deal. Due to being the first ones they wouldn’t have much budget for revenge, so they’d be the ones most likely to do things the old fashioned way.

Jacques: Jacques Kensington, along with being eccentric, is also one of the more business savvy of the chiefs. It’s easier to trick people into handing over their fortune than to force one’s way into places. Piss him off and expect to lose your money, your house, your reputation, and anything you had going good in your life. He won’t kill you directly, but is it any better?

Randy: Even pissed he’s still the Toppat party animal. Randy throws the best party for the offenders going all out on food, entertainment, and dance. After all it’s going to be their last party so make it a memorable one. They get so caught up in the fun they don’t even realize they’re about to be the main event.

Reynaldo: Nothing. Not that he does nothing, but that there’s nothing left of the fools that tried him. It’s like they never existed in the first place. He didn’t get the title of brute for nothing.

TRNK: His short reign in a nutshell according to the bios. RIP those poor Toppats.

Billy G: Billy is an intellectual and a romantic through and through. If someone crossed him, I’d imagine his retribution would be one of sheer poetry; pulling strings until he gets the most gratifying outcome. May or may not include a melodramatic speech before shooting the fool in the head.

Sir Wilford IV: Although he’s one of the fiercest chiefs he’s respected for a reason. Before going all out he’d make sure if it was worth it first, his clan’s safety comes first and foremost. If that’s all good then prepare for a hell storm the likes you have never seen. Under Wilford’s rule the Toppats are not to be trifled with and they’re about to be used as the main example.

Terrence: Non stop raids on the offenders. All day every day. Either until they apologize, are dead, or Terrence gets overthrown by the pringles twink. This is a guy that regularly went on unplanned high risk heists for shits and giggles you won’t outlast him.

Reginald: Supreme. Dominance. He bought that giant laser cannon for the space station and gosh dang it he’s going to use it.

Henry: We have seen Toppat Henry going feral, it’s called the Revenged route. Don’t piss off the guy that can rewind time.

Sven: TLDR. Paperwork had already destroyed this man and pity the person that’s on the receiving end of his work induced rants. Yeah he could just shoot them then and there but hey, they can at least have the decency to listen to his troubles. And if not that they can always be used as a punching bag for stress relief.

RHM: Hope you enjoy a small cell in cold space for the rest of your life if the Free Man route is any indication. And that’s if you’re lucky or if you’re still of some value. And that’s not even taking in consideration his cybernetics in some routes.

[the-irken-pony]

I wanna hear your Billy G and Jacques headcanons!! 👀👀 /nf

Oooh uhh lemme think

Jaques:

Mentioned it before like 3 times now but he's almost definitely immortal. Do not ask why I just know it.

kdsfgsjdkgf but in all seriousness the fact that he's just There in his painting still alive raises so many questions and I think about it more than was probably intended. How long has he been there? Is he unable to die or is the painting just a limbo world in which time doesn't pass? If he isn't immortal then why stick him here instead of just killing him? Has anyone else come here and died at his hands? I need more people to pay attention to Jaques his entire existence is so strange.

With his being immortal the man probably had a really long run as leader, possibly longer than even Dusty, solely because they didn't really have a way to get rid of him. The painting is how they got rid of him after so long.

With him living for so long it's hard to place exactly how old he is, if he even ages, however slowly. I could see him having multiple fake identities; his portrait writes his first initial as B instead of J when his bio lists him as Jaques Kensington. Yes I am extrapolating convoluted headcanons from minor errors, what of it.

Stepping away from the major conspiracies, Jaques seems like someone whose biggest priority is personal freedom. You can't control him or tell him what to do--every description we know of him seems to point to this.

Based on his bio, the title of his level, and his behavior toward Henry, he's probably not so much sadistic or downright cruel as he is impulsive and uncaring. He seems the type to shoot random people just for shits and giggles rather than out of a desire to hurt.

Billy G.:

Bi or pan. His bio never specifies that he flirted with women in particular, just that he was a romantic who couldn't ever find love.

He takes rejection hard but also moves on super quick. Like he'll spend an evening drowning his sorrows with chocolates and the next morning he'll be perfectly fine.

Resting Bitch Face. Have you seen his portrait in the airship? He's not actually angry or upset about anything that's just the look his face defaults to.

Regardless of any feelings he held for them, he was always very courteous with people. Which is ironic considering the above.

He's most likely to save violence as a last resort option. He's not strictly a pacifist because, y'know, Toppat, but seeing him fight or even kill was a rarity.

His pacifism or pseudo-pacifism probably was a major contribution to his downfall as leader; Sir Wilford IV doesn't seem like one to hold back in any capacity, and Billy being one to hold back probably led to an easy victory for Wilford.

When the T.R.N.K. incident first broke out, Billy prioritized keeping the rest of the Toppat Clan safe while Wilford went off to deal with T.R.N.K.. This led to Billy G. being crowned as the new Toppat Clan leader and a very salty Sir Wilford IV.

Billy usually pushes children away when they come to him (at least at first) because he doesn't think of himself as being good with children, but he's actually really good with them. He's usually cool to hang out with them if they're without an adult.

Reginald grew up in the Toppat Clan with fairly absent parents, so Billy ended up hanging out with Reggie a lot when he was a kid. Which led to Billy accidentally being a father figure to him. (look it's canon in my heart okay-)

I uh. actually had a lot but I never really had an excuse to talk about them until now. Especially Billy G., who I honestly probably think about more than Terrence sdhfjhgfdjkgh

[jaytoons7]

The bois have arrived! I really love Scot's expressions in this part

Understanding ….

Aayyyyy three of my OC’s finally show up! Mason is gonna try and help give therapy to every member in the clan!……..will it work out?

Jay Benson, Scottie Anderson, and Crusher belongs to @jaytoons7

Pollo Miller belongs to @00lari00

[savagekxds]

basics ~

name: jaya-ilya flores age: 24 birthday: october 25 pronouns: she/her sexuality: heterosexual blood status: pureblood (adopted by muggles) species: witch affiliation: the order family: keanu flores (older adoptive brother), jaques and esme flores (adoptive parents) faceclaim: simone ashley

wizard stuff ~

former school & house: beauxbatons, then hogwarts, ravenclaw boggart: a family photograph of her brother and parents burning patronus: buffalo current residence: townhouse in south kensington, london hometown:  annecy, france occupation: Curator of the Hidden Archive at the British Museum (of Natural History)

biography ~

Jaya-Iyla is the second child of Jaques and Esme Flores. Though it could be said that she was acquired at the same time as her older brother, Keanu. Perhaps it was a case of one kindred soul finding another. When Jaya was brought to the orphanage, only a few days old and swaddled in a faded, patchwork blanket. Maybe Keanu’s magic in some way could feel the magic blood in Jaya, or maybe he simply saw a small baby in need of an older brother. When Esme and Jaques came to adopt a child they were delighted to find a pair who seemed to have already made themselves siblings. Jaya was only a year old when she was adopted, and Jacques and Esme were the only parents she ever knew.

She grew into a fiercely independent child, with wit sharp as a blade and a competitive spirit that would grow to be the bane of her family’s existence. Like Keanu, she began showing signs of magic at a young age, igniting vases of flowers and sending papers up in puffs of smoke during her toddler tantrums. When Keanu was almost eleven a tall woman in a pale blue robe showed up on their doorstep and introduced them properly to the world of magic.

Jaya was always an intense personality, but she flourished in school. She was always striving for the best, always planning and figuring out how to get what she wanted. Constantly pestering her older brother for advice or showing off the newest interesting rock she’d found on the ground. When she moved to Hogwarts she faced struggles adjusting to the new school. She was so set in her ways that for months she couldn’t connect with her classmates, becoming reliant on Keanu as her only support for a while.

Eventually she made friends and continued to blossom into a brilliant young woman. When she finished school she became a junior assistant at the Hidden Archive within the British Museum, helping collect and care for the artefacts there. Over the years she diligently worked her way up until she became the curator for the gallery. A fact she was regularly find opportunities to brag about to her brother. Until he cut off all contact with her a few months ago…

physical appearance ~

height: 5′7 hair colour: black eye colour: dark brown distinguishing features: her dark brown eyes have faint streaks of gold and amber in them, and in the right lighting a faint spattering of freckles can be seen across her cheekbones. fashion style: high quality, typically tailored. she prefers independent designers and stylists over big brands, and keeps her wardrobe stocked with timeless pieces in bold colours, and accents with pieces of gold jewellery.

traits ~

positive: + sharp-witted + confident negative: - untrusting - overly practical

❁ – — more info

[smokingdoor]

South Kensington, London home with interiors by Jacques Grange. 

A painting by Anselm Kiefer hangs above a Jean Royère ‘Ours Polaire’ sofa and armchairs (c. 1952) which sit upon a Ernest Boiceau rug. 

Photograph by Francois Halard. 

[leprincedesdragons]

Magic Home

A look at Tyler Lee’s and Daniel Choi’s Kengsinton Residence 

Model Daniel Choi and husband, Tyler Lee, are the newest owners of a two-bedroom London condo at Kensington, a luxury development by renowned designer Jacques Thoreau. The 3,000-square-foot condo features private elevator access along with an abundance of luxury amenities that make this landing spot the perfect upgrade from Lee’s bachelor apartment in Mayfair. The modern residence is complete with a full-time doorman and concierge, a gym and spa, and a beautiful terrace. This is what a dream home looks like.

Quidditch player and Royal Tyler Lee and his husband, Daniel Choi, are no strangers to the home renovation process. Together, the couple, who have been married for two years, has tackled a previous home renovation project. But their most challenging redo to-date is a sprawling Tudor-style apartment located in the most expensive neighborhood of London. The couple purchased the 3,000-square-foot property earlier this year. It was originally built for a large family in the 1830s, but after being untouched for 50 years, Daniel and Tyler knew it was the right time to put their design skills to the test once again.

An extensive renovation later, the couple is happily living in their new house. “The great thing about Daniel is that when he decides to go for something, he really goes for it,” says Tyler proudly. “He is incredibly impatient and focused, so I would wake up every day to new boards, full of ideas and photographs of furniture. The renovation was done at Daniel’s supersonic speed: a month for the whole house. Tyler and Daniel preserved the old-world charm of the original house but weaved in modern touches by rearranging the layout, incorporating eye-catching furniture and graphic art. In our visit to their luxurious residence, the couple shares their favorite spaces from the minimalistic guest dining room to the charming private sitting area.

Keen and eclectic collectors of both art and furniture, the couple had a number of diverse pieces they were intent on integrating into their home, among them two paintings by Johannes Vermeer, a 1690s William & Mary cabinet, that found its place in their kitchen, and Vilhelm Lauritzen light fixtures, now in the dining room. The latter are favorites of Tyler. “When someone’s walking upstairs, you hear them clink a bit,” he says. “It makes a charming sound.” For new acquisitions, they were determined to avoid anything ubiquitous. Items that got past their stringent criteria include an emerald Ico Parisi sofa in their bedroom and a Johanna Grawunder pendant light in their walk-in closet.

Private sitting area

The sitting area of quidditch player Tyler Lee’s Paris apartment, which he redesigned with his husband and the architect Anthony Rey. The sofas are covered in a fabric from Martin’s collection for Mokum, the light fixtures come courtesy of Paris design firm Desjeux Delaye, while the tables are vintage, and the black marble sculpture by Alfred Basbous was purchased at the Hong Kong International Art Fair.

Living Room

The dark, deep color of the walls was chosen as the main color, to create an atmosphere of intimacy and seclusion. The colors that dominate much of the ground floor are a mix of turquoises, greens, and black, with hand-painted walls of dark emerald set against oak floors. That palette, Daniel says, came from an unusual brief: “Tyler handed me a black peacock feather and said, ‘This is what I want.’“

Photo: in the living room, walls painted in the shade “Very dark green” (Emery & Cie), used in total look, gives life to the decoration elements. On both sides of the mirror, Christopher Boots’ “Pythagoras” wall lamps from the Armel Soyer Gallery. On the mantelpiece, Vanessa Mitrani vases and Dan Yeffet’s “Segment” lamp from her Collection Particulière. On the right, Augusto Bozzi bench and armchair from the 1950s, burnt wood coffee tables (Atmosphere of Elsewhere), reading lamp “ED027” (Edizioni Design), lamp post “Superloon”, by Jasper Morrison (Flos) , vintage carpet (Ada) and the painting “The Girl with the Pearl” by Johannes Vermeer, ottoman (Maison de Vacances), ashtrays from India Mahdavi.

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