Zoë’s Comments (group member since Aug 04, 2017)

Zoë’s comments from the H A M I L T O N ━ a semi-advanced rp group.

Philip slipped through the door a few minutes after. He was hoping to pick up a couple more poetry books on his way home. Definetely not avoiding home. Of course not. He shook his head slightly, exasperated. It's not like I'm exactly eager to tell Pop I got robbed sneaking into a theatre.

who's house it is - Hamilton Residence (Alexander, Eliza, Philip... etc.)
type of house - Mansion

(pictures online under "Hamilton Grange National Memorial")

"I've got a name you know!" Philip called after him, before realising it probably looked like he was yelling down an empty street. He sighed. Tommy was weird. He infuriated him with his offhand insults, yet he was... nice? At least to hang out with. He turned around, a hand in his pocket. He swore, not feeling his wallet. "I guess you're right, we will see each other again." He started the walk home.

Philip gingerly closed the door behind them, cringing as it made a loud clang. His previous reckless urge had been squished, stomped on, drowned in the river, then burned for good measure. He glanced at the sun, slowing sinking. He swore. How could he lose track of time?

Philip stumbled at first, but quickly fell in step with Tommy. "Do you know a way out?" He asked in a frantic whisper, resisting the urge to peek through the curtains. This wasn't the time to take chances.

"Someone's coming," he pointed, just as the house lights flared to life. Philip looked seconds away from hyperventilating. "I can't spend the rest of my life in jail!"

Philip frowned. "I didn't-" he trailed off when he saw a light in the ticket booth, outlining a man's silhouette. "When does the theatre open?" He asked Tommy anxiously.

((eXCUsE me?!?! *angelica snap*))

Philip shrugged, confused by the question. "One? But I only use it for reading, and even then it's better to use a candle." He said. "Plus it's more artistic, like poetic. You could say it's sort of a romantic setting." He gave a goofy grin, he liked talking about poetry.

Philip looked up cautiously, then cleared his throat. "I was reading a book... basically, that's the lighting, they put the gas lamps at the foot of the stage so the actors are well lit. But they don't call it that, they call it the lip of the stage." He went on, pointing out the different components and parts.

((Dat's true))

Philip felt a flush reach his cheeks, and he bit his lip. "Sorry," He said, unable to hide the edge in his voice.

Philip resisted the urge to scoot away from Tommy. "Oh," He said in a small voice, pulling at a lock of hair. "You sure?" He tried, smirk pulling at the edges of his lips. "It would be quite a feat to grow up nowhere."

((Like Tom Riddle))

"Where did you grow up?" Philip asked, hoping to get the spotlight off him while Tommy was off-guard. He didn't like talking about his personal life so much, it felt like he could say something wrong at any second.

Philip suspected that Tommy wasn't just thinking of his friends, but continued anyway. "Ma is really nice," He said, then realised that wasn't enough. Enough for Tommy anyway. "She would spend a lot of time with me when I was younger, before I went to boarding school. She taught me piano." He smiled a little. "I was a crazy kid, I bet it was impossible to make me play anything she wanted me too. She always told me I played a different melody every time." He glanced at Tommy. "Sorry, you don't care. I'm trying to say, she always is on my side? She'll stick up for me."

((That Would Be Enough...))

"Why?" Philip blurted, taken by surprise. "Of all the things you could've asked..." His mind was churning. He had never really thought about it, none of his friends at school had ever taken much of an interest in his opinion on personal life. Of course they pestered him all the time about what his father was doing, the great Alexander Hamilton. He just wished they would look past that. He was going to be his own man, like his father but bolder.

((Sorry not sorry for quoting Blow Us All Away))

Philip held his hands up in protest, smirking. "Fine, I'll leave you to it!" He couldn't figure out Tommy. He seemed to always on edge, as if he fully expected anyone to stab him in the back at any second. He brought his knee up to his chest, fiddling with his bootlaces as he waited for Tommy to make up his mind.

Philip ran his fingers through his hair, for lack of better things to do. "You're really bad at this you know," He informed Tommy. "Talking to people."

((And so it begins. Again))

"Oh... okay," Philip said uncomfortably. After a painful silence, he said, "You can ask me another question now?"

"That's cool!" Philip said enthusiastically. "Like a doctor, right?"

"C'mon..." Philip begged. "I'll let you ask me another question," He added. "I'm not as good at that, Pa always thought politics was more important."

"Yeah... your turn. Tell me more about yourself," Philip said, swinging his legs up so he was sitting crosslegged on the stage next to Tommy. "So, a science geek?"