ABOUT

Full Name/Nickname: Ronav Joshi; Ronnie 

Age/DOB: 28 | April 17th, 1993

Zodiac Sign:  ☀️ Aries | 🌙 Pisces |  ⬆️ Pisces 

Gender: Cismale; he/him

Place of Birth: Montreal, Canada 

Arrondissement:  Entrepôt (10th)

Sexual/Romantic Orientations: Open 

Religion: Atheist 

Occupation: Barista 

PERSONALITY:

Goals/Desires: Happiness; To reunite with his brother 

Fears: Fire, Being trapped 

Hobbies: Reading, Walks, Lengthy discussions 

Likes & Dislikes: nothing concrete, it ebbs and flows on the daily

Hogwarts House: ----

FAMILY

Parents: Deceased 

Sibling(s): 1 brother, Dev

Pet(s): None

POTENTIAL CONNECTIONS:

          Truthfully, Genesis hadn’t been entirely sure how or why their arrangement had been so cold. To the point where they made no effort in getting to know each other at all. A smile curved her lips and she thought about it for a moment. “Magnolia’s are my favorite. What are yours?” Ronav was difficult to read, he inquired and asked questions yet his body language gave off disinterest. It made the brunette unsure how to respond. “You’re attending to listen to music, you’re not obligated to bring anything.”

          With a nod, she agreed and thought a change would be good. It’d been some time since she enjoyed Korean cuisine, and Gen appreciated the mix up. “That works for me. I wouldn’t hate it, I’ve loved it the times that I’ve tried it. Plus, they’re good with spicy.” And the pianist loved food with some flavor and heat. “Shall we go?” Gesturing to the door, she smiled once more.

“Magnolia,” he repeated. It wasn’t a flower that people often claimed as a favorite, meaning it should be easy to remember. “I quite enjoy flowers,” Ronav looked into her soft, green eyes as he smiled. “My mother’s favorite were chrysanthemums, so they’ve got quite a special place in my heart, but I’m also a bit of a fan of buttercups.” Nothing fancy, but both of the flowers were important to him. Brows raised questionably, Ronav didn’t think of bringing flowers as an obligation, but it felt odd to see the woman he used to sleep with play piano and bring her nothing. “I’m attending to see you play,” he said, head cocked to the side. 

Heading out the door, Ronav fell into a comfortable stride as he headed in the direction of the restaurant. “Ah, you’ve had it before?” It made sense, especially since she’d apparently been back for years. “Regardless, it’s on me. Consider this...a belated welcome back present,” he chuckled quietly. Having a meal with Gen felt nice. Getting to know her-- actually know her-- would be nice. It was severely overdue.

OPEN / @paristarters​ LOCATION: Musée d'Orsay

Something was off once she came back from her lunch break, Elise felt it the second she stepped into her office and stared blankly at her desk like she was missing something. She’s walked around the museum for almost an hour now, gaze vacant as she tries to remember what it is she’s looking for. Her mind is probably playing tricks on her again, telling her she’s lost something when the only thing lost is her sense of self, but she’s determined to find whatever it is she’s looking for when she finds herself in one of the Van Gogh rooms — not without company. “That one’s beautiful,” she muses, almost not even realizing she’s said anything aloud. But it’s one of her favorite pieces and Elise can’t help herself when it comes to art. She casts her gaze upon the Van Gogh once more and then over to the other person admiring the piece, the slightest smile appearing on her lips. “If you like the artist, we have a few more in the next room over. He’s brilliant.”

It wasn’t often that Ronav spent time with his aunt. They had a solid relationship, but they were both busy adults. That was how life worked. Standing in the room with her, it felt somewhat normal-- they had gotten breakfast and walked around the city earlier as well. “Hm?” he looked to where the voice was coming from. “It’s definitely art,” he smiled, hoping that he could get away with some mundane small talk. “I actually, I don’t know much about art or the history of art,” he scratched at the nape of his neck, feeling somewhat like a fraud. “Is there anything specific I should know about this piece?”

~

There was something to be said for Mallory and her innate ability to be so bad at expressing emotion. It was why she didn’t have to stress with Ronnie so much, he knew that they were as close as could be, and she never had to say it. Because saying it, whether it was the truth or not, would make her wade far too deep into the emotional pond. Maybe if he ever got married, she’d say it in a speech, or she write it in her will for someone to let him know after she died. But, for now, she’d let him infer it. 

“No way, if I wanted to pay 30 for a jacket that someone else has already worn for years, I’d go to Chinemachine. And, I know that vendor – he doesn’t take kindly to a haggler.” As cool as the jacket was, it was not worth getting chased off for offering no more than 15 pounds. She eyed the bucket hat suspiciously, pursing her lips and shaking her head at the question. White fabric had already yellowed beyond comprehension. Eyeing random things here and there, Mallory tilted her head in his direction as he spoke, only half committed to hearing him until he mentioned his former… friend. If that’s what you could call that relationship. She gave him a bright look, before letting it morph into something much more melodramatic. “Oh mon Dieu, qu'est-ce que je vais faire? All the future canceled plans, I can see them now.” Mallory placed a hand to her forehead, falling into his side for dramatic effect.

“You know everyone in this city, don’t you?” he asked with a grin. It certainly felt that way, whether she wanted to know them or not. “Maybe you’re just bad at haggling,” Ronav suggested with a shrug. “I’d charge you 45, though.” He walked closely with her, keeping a hand up in case people started getting too close. Mallory could hold her own, but Ronav was more concerned about the other person who would be on the other end of it. “Shut up,” he said as his cheeks turned bright pink. Commitment was something he had issues with, so the...arrangement with Genesis had always been nice. Vulnerable, comfortable, and no strings were ever attached. “It was like seeing a ghost. A gorgeous ghost,” he laughed. “I just wanted to let you know because, like...I don’t know, you’re my best friend or whatever,” he mumbled.

Never usually one for idle talk or extraneous noise, Gabriel always had headphones of some kind or other, while he was on the bus. It was mostly convenient, and less expensive than owning and parking a vehicle, but.. the part where he was almost constantly surrounded by other people was… less than ideal. However, in times like these, having a line in to what was going on might have been helpful — and he might’ve had it, if he hadn’t been so plugged in to his own world. 

Out of all the other fellow passengers, the person with their head down seemed… actually, this person did not seem okay, and while Gabriel was not normally this guy, maybe comforting the person might get them to reveal what they knew of what was going on and why they were so abruptly stopped.

“Hi, do you — “ Dad. Dad? The other’s tone indicated they were clearly disoriented, right? Gabriel wasn’t anyone’s father, much less was he capable for the job. But, the other’s heaving chest, combined with the weak cough they let out was yet another flashing indicator light toward them totally not being okay. “Do you.. Are you.. Uh, okay?” 

The voice wasn’t familiar in the slightest, but those deep brown eyes...they looked so much like his own. It had to be his dad, didn’t it? Pressing his fingers against his temples, Ronav attempted to focus on the man beside him. As the realization came that it wasn’t his father, his heart sank into his stomach. Logically, on any other day, Ronav could accept that fact. Well...not so much accept, as deal with. But right now? He could’ve really used some reassurance from his father that everything was going to be okay.

“S-sorry,” he coughed again. Everyone else on the bus appeared to be dealing with this situation much better than Ronav. Except for the one baby who was currently waking up. “You just...,” apart from the brown eyes, the man didn’t look like Ronav in the slightest. The history of the accident and now this situation must’ve screwed his brain up even more. “I think I’m coming down. You just...you reminded me of my dad and...I think I was mid-panic attack,” he attempted to laugh, but another cough came out. “S-s-sorry again.”

@gabricl-acosta​

It happened in slow motion. One moment, Ronav was sitting comfortably with his hands in his pockets, and the next, his head was between his legs and his chest was growing tighter. Accidents happen. The phrase made his skin boil, but unfortunately, it was an accident. The driver appeared to be making some type of announcement, but Ronav was no longer on this astrological plane. “There’s a seat. There’s the floor. There’s my shoe,” he mumbled to himself. Grounding exercises.

Slowly, he lifted his head up, touching the seat around him. Was he still alive? Would he be able to touch things in Heaven? Or Hell? “There’s a window. There’s my jacket. There’s...,” Dad? He stared at the man who had the same deep mocha eyes as his father. Was he dead?! Mouth opened, but all that escaped was a weak cough. The disorientation was too much, they’d have to start driving eventually right? 

          “Remind you?” Brow quirked, the simper on her lips conveyed the chiding she was on the verge of sending his way. All in jest, still, Genesis couldn’t resist an opportune moment. “I don’t recall you asking in the first place.” Not a whole lot of talking had taken place between them, hence why he was still a stranger in so many ways. The brunette loosened her fingers, having caught his discomfort. “Please don’t tell me it’s so you can bring flowers to the show —” It wasn’t that she minded, as that did happen a lot, Gen was perhaps a little surprised.

          Pale green settled on Ronav, watching his affections mirror a cat in the way he rubbed his head against her hand. It put a smile on her lips, but she had to pull her hand away to reach for her phone in her pocket. Since the left was staying protected in her pocket. With what he proposed and the way his cheeks turned him into a tomato, Gen could only assume that he wasn’t asking her to just hangout. “Well —” It felt awkward to just jump right back into bed after so much absence and lack of contact. “Are you hungry? I’ve got some free time and I’m starving.” 

For a moment, his eyes looked anywhere but directly into hers. Their arrangement hadn’t needed that type of information, but Ronav didn’t expect her to call him out right then and there, though, he did enjoy her sharp tongue-- literally and figuratively. “You got me there!” he chuckled, “So I guess I should ask, what’s your favorite flower, Genesis?” Paired with a shrug at her next question, he added, “I mean, I won’t tell you it’s for that, but I don’t think it’d be polite to go to a concerto empty-handed.”

Ronav allowed the contact to cease, though his mocha hues refocused on her. “Food is always good,” he agreed. It was a neutral meeting ground, and if things became awkward there was always the solace of drinking water to gather one’s thoughts. “La Bibimerie is around here, if Korean food sounds good to you. If you hate it...,” he shrugged, “it’s on me. Does that work for you?”

Aylin’s dark eyes stayed focused on Ronav. It was rather refreshing to be talking to him. He wanted to know what she was thinking, simply because it was a way to become better people. Never had she thought about that ever. The only thing that quickly filled her head after she stopped herself from rambling, was the fact that she was probably annoying the hell out of the others by the fact that she was talking so much. So it was indeed refreshing and interesting to talk to someone with a different view on things.

“You know, I never really realised that those were the moments these questions come to mind. Not until you just told me. I wouldn’t say it is odd, because it’s in those moments that you suddenly know how vulnerable you really are. Things are getting closer and you realise that it could happen to you just as easily. So I would rather say it is sad that we only think about these serious things whenever we are in heavy weather.”

His hands clasped together as he continued to study her. She was sweet, and he was truly interested in whatever she had to say. “I think we’re on the same page,” Ronav nodded. To have a conversation with a genuine person felt rare these days. Aylin had no ulterior motives, she was just a nice girl. Despite all his standard guards being up, there was part of him that felt like he could really let her in-- not right now, but eventually. “Heavy weather...,” he murmured quietly, “I like that. It makes...it makes it feel not as bad. Like it’ll pass,” he smiled. Logically, Ronav knew that everything would pass-- the sun would set and rise day after day, until the load became a bit lighter. “I know this is our first time really getting to know each other, but you’re quite intelligent. I feel like we’re residing on the same wavelength, know what I mean?” 

@malloryhou​

The word best friend didn’t come out of Ronav’s mouth, but anyone with eyes could see that it was clearly Mallory. She was one of the first people he connected with when he moved to Paris, and it helped immensely that they lived in the same neighborhood. Some of the things they did when they were younger developed into comfortable habits, or traditions. Hitting the flea market was one of those things.

“You should’ve bought that jacket,” he mused, picking up what appeared to be an extremely used bucket hat. “Think I can save this with some bleach?” he asked before tossing it back down. There was nothing in particular he was looking for; he was sure it would just call to him. That was how thrifting worked! Ronav continued to drag his finger along the tops of the shelves, grimacing at the amount of dust that was beginning to coat his skin. “So, uh, you remember that girl I used to mess around with?” a sheepish grin came over his face. “I ran into her the other day.” 

          The touch was cause for Gen to pull in a breath. Contact hadn’t been expected but the pianist’s lips curved when she looked down at familiar fingers around her wrist. As the brunette listened to his explanation, she found it made sense and that eased the tension she was feeling. More relaxed, those green hues of hers lifted to that soulful brown she’d stared into many memorable times. “When we split I thought you didn’t want to see me again.” At least that was what had been assumed of the arrangement, and that Ronav had carried on when he’d no longer needed the connection. “So, I didn’t reach out. It’s nice though, that you’re happy to see me.”

          Seeing the smile stretch across his lips comforted Genesis even further, and a faint dusting of pink warmed her cheeks over his interest in possibly seeing her play. The brunette slowly turned her right hand in his gentle grasp so that she could move her fingers over his skin, instead she’d hooked their fingers together. That left she was so protective stayed in her pocket. “It wouldn’t be weird at all. I’d love it if you came. Have you ever been to a concerto before?” Unlike most, Gen played her own music.

          The immediate smile and giddiness she felt compelled her eyes to fall on the space between them, hiding the reaction as best as she could at learning he still had her number in his phone. Maybe that meant nothing, but she chose not to think of the negatives. “I do,” she squeezed his fingers a little, “but I’d prefer you to reach out.” Not for any games, this was her way of confirming his intent was real and not just because of suddenly and surprisingly finding themselves in each other’s presence. The last thing she wanted was something out of obligation.

Tongue peeked through his teeth as he accepted their newfound position of hand holding. It still felt nice, this familiar intimacy with her, and it may have been the past talking but he thought about falling back into their old habit. “I don’t believe I’ve been,” he said, “maybe when I was younger, but nothing in my memory is standing out. Which...you’ll have to remind me about your favorite flower,” Ronav suggested. 

With a playful roll of his eyes, Ronav brought her hand up to his lips, gently pressing them against her knuckles. So they weren’t done with each other. “Of course,” he murmured, nuzzling his head against her hand. Ronav had every intention of reaching out to her-- her affection had always been a good thing in his mind. “I suppose my real question, however,” he could feel his face burning, though he continued to gaze upon her. “would be if you wanted to continue this reunion somewhere more private, or if you wanted to wait for me to reach out to you?”