A boombox is not a toy
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Ms Silver Lining
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:::Τσmαhι τλε Nεκσ ☠
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- Vincent's way of thinking was damn sure right. Tomahi was unable to give him anything in the cat form she was determined to remain in. If he killed her right then and there his lovely little pendent would be lost for ages. The neko would probably never give it back either, or so she thought. Perhaps there was a way to make her understand what it meant to care about other people’s feelings. However, when it came right down to it, the core of the matter was she just didn't care. She didn't care about his feelings or why he wanted it back so bad. It also didn't help that he DID want it back so bad. The more he wanted it the more she wanted to keep it. She hadn't even given the item her close inspection so it must have been a pretty penny to look at. No matter the reason she just wasn't giving the pendent back. Her head twisted around as he turned her body into his arm and pulled her closer. She carefully sunk her nails into the fabric of his sleeve relaxing with relief that he released her tail. She wasn't use to being picked up and she didn't want to be dropped. Even with knowing she would land on her feet anyway she wasn't up for the stomach turning feeling as she fell. The neko curled up in his arm waiting for the next chance to escape. She may have become a little more affectionate as a cat but her ultimate goal hasn't changed. She was going to get away from this man no matter how bad her cat instances took over.
She could feel his side vibrate against her furry body while he talked. She nuzzled the side of her head against him listening for the common heartbeat despite his mean and unforgiving words. It wasn't like she could talk after all. She wouldn't argue with him. The only way she could was if she changed back into her human body. She sure as hell wasn't going to fight him because she would lose hands down. She didn't know how he kept finding her so quickly but... her train of thought stopped when she found she could find no heartbeat. The kitten pressed her little head harder against his body seeking anything but she couldn't find anything. So she raised her head and meowed at him. Her sore tail tapped and swayed in small circles against his arm while she tried to think of how he could be walking with no heartbeat. He obviously wasn't human which would explain why he kept finding her. It was sad to say that she now recalled his red eyes and it finally sank in that he could possibly be some kind of demon. Getting away from this guy was going to be harder then she thought. She lowered her head to rest and watch the path he took. She would need to know where to run for later references.
In all honesty she felt lucky that he didn't kill her right away. She was rather fearful of him but she didn't fear him killing her because if he wanted to he would have done it a long time ago. The pendent must have meant a lot.
After many turns the neko began to feel like he didn't want her to know her way back. In reality he was probably walking the path he took to make sure no one was following him. Yet, she didn't know that. Tomahi was even a little ignorant to the fact that there was a group called CLOAK. All she knew from growing up a lone that everyone was always in hiding. When they finally came to an old building she raised her head to look at it. One of her ears flicked down and backwards puzzled that he would live in such a place. From the way the vampire dressed she would guessed that he lived in a well-furnished place, with plenty of new things for her to take and keep. She almost didn't want to go inside but it reminded her so much of her side of town. She curled into a tighter ball hiding her head to somehow make the pain in her stomach go away.
She was up for a treat for when he walked inside it looked nothing like the outside. Her cat eyes widen and her head darted from object to object. There were so many things she could take here and better yet, so many people. Odd people, people who smelled funny. The cat sniffed at the air and lifted her head to press the top of her head against Vincent's body meowing again. She could smell food too and it was the good kind too. She quickly dropped her head looking to his left as if she heard something. Her stare turned into a gaze before she looked in another direction. If she wasn't in so much pain she might have tried to jump from the vampire’s arms several times already.
Yoshkun
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The only time Vincent even acknowledged Tomahi before reaching the Elysium Inn was when he felt her soft head nuzzling his chest in a sort of peculiar fascination. He raised a curious eyebrow when he realized that she had her ear pressed against him, as if listening for something. Was the silly creature actually searching to hear the faint pitter patter of a heartbeat? The vampire had not felt the sweet pulse of life in almost three hundred years or so, but he supposed he couldn’t expect her to know this. It did, however, make him reflect on a happier time of long days past. It was true that he had very faint memories of the person he had been when he was human, but that did not prevent him from remembering the distinct sensations that living beings took for granted every day. The successes and failures, the highs and lows, the ecstasy of love to the string of heartbreak; It was all so clear to him but only as a vividly descriptive and illustrious painting that would forever be locked away in the solitude of his dreams. These flooding thoughts of the past made him cringe slightly as he observed various pedestrians performing their everyday activities; almost longing to join them in something so frivolous if only to escape this endless nightmare.
His melancholy attitude did not seem to alter in the slightest when the two found themselves on the steps of the deceptively 'shabby' Elysium Inn. He pushed his way through the steel doors and glanced at what appeared to be a whole gang of oddly shaped cretins, swarming around the front desk like unorganized loons. He rolled his eyes and removed his sunglasses with his free hand, sliding them in the opposite pocket to the cat as not to disturb her nestled resting place in his arm. He hadn’t written in any pets on the sign in sheet, but if the skunk dared to challenge him then she was welcome to do so. Then again, skunk blood sounded absolutely revolting. It was probably the hunger talking that made him so irritable right now, besides Tomahi, so he said nothing and made his way past the butler and tiger and up the stairs. That was another thing that bothered him about the Inn, that stupid so called French butler. He had lived in France for longer than the feline had probably been alive, and he found his flamboyant arrogance to be distasteful disrespect. The vampire only let it slide because the man did his job well and was always on time when he was called upon. Such things were important to Vincent De Costello.
When the pair finally reached Room 10 after perusing down the hallway a ways, Vincent rummaged through the pocket on his side and pulled free the room key. It fit snugly into the lock and he was able to get the door open with one quick turn and push forward. The room as a whole was very stylish in a very subtle way, as Vincent had decorated his room to look very classy and extremely polished. Even more intriguing was the fact that everything from the entire bed set, to one of the beautiful 18th century paintings on the wall, contained a splash of red somewhere to be found in the design. It was his favorite color, after all. In a lot of ways, his room could have been mistaken for that of an artist, with all of the paintings, vases, and even several writing tools neatly stacked upon the desk in the corner. Vincent personally had no hand for art, but he enjoyed looking at it and it added sophistication to the room; which was big with him. Probably the most obvious thing to notice besides the richness of the suite was the fact that the second bed had been taken from the room and replaced with a grand piano sitting in its place near the window. It was during some lovely weeks in the English countryside that he learned to play such a wonderful instrument; and it was the only thing that could calm the vampire once he hit a fit of rage. Speaking of wonderful things, the room was actually lit by three lamps scattered around the room, as they did not contain natural light and therefore were not a bother to Vincent.
He continued to say nothing as he shut the door behind him, laying the cat down on his cushioned bed of pure crimson; positioning her head gently off the side so that if she felt sick again, she wouldn’t vomit on his sheets. Vincent casually made his way to the desk to write someone in one of the many open books before returning to her, his expression seemingly relaxed now that he was home again.
“I shall explain this to you kitten because it of vital importance. Creatures such as us, filled to the brim with the darkness, cannot handle such movements through shadows without dedicated practice. Since you seem very unfamiliar with these travels, your body is rejecting it and that is the source of your pain and sickness. I shall only be able to patch it up temporarily, but if you wish to be rid of it you will have to continue through the pain until your senses can tolerate it. That being said, I’m going to remove the shadowy disease from your organs so that you may have momentarily relief. It shall not be painful so I advise you not to move, as moving tends to make things a bit messy.” He said with an actual smirk forming on his lips, poking his slender fingertip upon her wet nose before leaning forward to get a closer look at what he was dealing with.
He didn’t say another word to her and just simply placed his hand upon her side, his palm surprising having a gentle feel to it as he lightly ruffled her fur. His fingertips pressed lightly into her skin and immediately retracted way above her head, each finger now connected to her by a long black web like substance that would confuse anyone into thinking the kitten doubled as a spider. There was nothing to worry about; however, as another tug pulled out all of the gooey shadow webbing from Tomahi’s organs which immediately dissipated once it hit the fresh air swirling around from the Inn’s air conditioner.
“There, that should cease the pain for now. You should rest your body as you will still be nauseous for a few hours longer. No harm will come to you for now.” He stated calmly, walking over and taking a seat on the bench in front of the piano. He did not play as one might have expected, only staring out the window with a depressed glint in his otherwise fearsome red eyes.
Vincent W Sinnet
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"Only in death will we have our own names since only in death are we no longer part of the effort. In death we become heroes."
Bob was prepared to leave and return to his own little realm of chocolates and boredom. Of course things where never so easy as one of the newer chefs had approached him. She was covered in flower, which caused Bob to raise an eyebrow in some distaste. She told him that she had made some pie, which piqued Bob's curiosity. Bob loved pie, it fell under the sweets category so it caused him to hesitate in mentioning the fact that she was an absolute mess. Though it didn't take Janet long to come over and cross several lines. Bob agreed with most of what she said when she began to lecture Naan. He could see Janet then turn to look at him, even though she gave him a kind smile, the the first few words she spoke made Bob finally find his default glare again. His dark expression now as grim as ever.
Naan was quick to own up to her mistake, she even tried to defend Bob. She was given the opportunity as Bob stewed in his own silent rage. His expression was unchanging, most others agreed that it was hard for Bob to look more angry than he normally did anyways. Well, those who hadn't seen him at the very peak in Bob's ghoul form anyways. After all, while in his ghoul form he was practically mindless, operating basely on emotion and the killer instinct he had developed after so many years of war. It was obvious while in that form that Bob was little more than a tightly wound ball of rage. His switch to his ghoulish alter ego was like a great explosion, all he did was rip, tear, beat, crush, break, bite, rend and roar. It was a flurry of violence, a blood bath, death and destruction. Fueled solely by rage, hate and envy. But now his mind was still in control, so these emotions were only displayed in his signature glare.
Bob practically ignored Naan as she attempted to apologize Bob's glare was focused on Janet for a few long moments. The intensity of it hadn't changed but Bob's expression could usually thin the air around those he directed it at, metaphorically speaking. Though it was rather funny, since Bob didn't need to really breathe either. But after those few moments, Bob gave Janet a smile. No it wasn't a small, kind smile, no one in the Inn had ever seen Bob give one of those since he started working here. It was a large toothy grin, His very front teeth seemed normal enough, but the rows immediately turned large and sharp. Perfectly spaced, shaped and white, it was almost, if not more, intimidating than a sharks smile. This smile though was not used to intimidate Janet, just to mock the one she gave him before she spoke. "Please pardon my lack of diligence. After all, I had expected those you hired to operate with a little more common sense." Now, the way Janet had scolded Naan was done in the professional manner one would expect from their superior. Bob, however, did not speak with a tone that befit anything professional, he simply sounded like a jackass, though he kept his volume level enough to not disturb the other guests. Bob didn't involve himself in the hiring process, he would sooner do the job all by himself then be put into situations like this concerning others.
But what Bob was truly enraged about was, well, two things. One, Janet threatened his sweets and Bob would sooner quit the job than give them up. But she had the- the nerve, the gall! To even entertain the idea that Bob's Kitchen could deteriorate into any manner of filth. Sure there was usually cleaning to do, it was a kitchen after all. But Bob always made sure somebody was on it, always. The quality of his kitchen, it came before the quality of his life... er... unlife. She knew this, which made it all the more frustrating. Bob's rage was a strange fiend, he was difficult to anger in the sense that there were very few things that set him off. On the other hand, he was quick to anger when it came to certain subjects. His kitchen being the main one among just a couple of others.
Bob simply started to leave with his frustration but stopped a few steps away. He pulled a one eighty, facing Janet again with just a few more words for her. "If you even think my kitchen would deteriorate into filth! You, them, everyone and even the generations after them will turn to dust before I could even entertain the the thought of letting things slip like that." It was only the slight emphasis on "dust" that indicated a change in Bob's tone. Though even with the lack of change from his default expression and tone, it was certain that he was overreacting, just from his words. But that wasn't uncommon, Bob was a rough character and that came with it's problems, it was that way since the day Bob started and Bob was not going to change for anyone. Bob walked at his normal slow pace back to the bar, he gathered up his chocolates and left his stuffed wolf out to keep the counter warm. With that he made his way back and out the doors from the dining hall. He slowly started making his way to his room.
Jyon
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Vincent W Sinnet
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The Шitcħ Ħμŋtєr
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It was nice to see someone so understanding, Richard knew that many of the residents of the city were not so polite. But that was city life, people were in a hurry all the time and such a distraction as being bumped into was devastating and enraging. Though Richard had dealt with worse reactions from different causes. Richard was good at dealing with the worst sort of emotions from people, after all, facing betrayal as well as death was one of the worst things someone could face. So of course Richard was good at "dealing" with it, dealing meaning not being bothered by aggressive emotions. But this woman seemed to not have such emotions for the moment, though her dog did, towards the coffee anyways.
"Well I don't own a cell phone, but I do own up to my own ignorance. I tell you that I am very ignorant." Richard said with a wide smile. "Blissfully ignorant~" Richard gave wide flamboyant gestures as he added that last bit. He even laughed a bit, though it would be hard to say to weather or not he was kidding or just laughing at himself. Richard would never tell, it was more fun to allow people to draw their own conclusions. Richard chuckled a bit when the woman before him mentioned her feelings would she be in Richards shoes, concerning his coffee. "Well then I suppose we are two different creatures." Richard said, his smile still on his face. "Time will take all things from me, something as simple of coffee is nothing to blink twice at." Of course, hearing how she was willing to buy him another cup made him add. "Besides, if it means that a beautiful young thing like you would accompany me to buy another, I wouldn't mind be caught in an eternity of spilling coffee." Richard let out another laugh and then began backtracking to the small coffee shop he had just come from not just five or ten minutes ago.
Stopping once again at the busy intersection that took him some time to cross before, he couldn't let time slip by in silence. Richard's best and worst trait was the fact that he was a constant conversationalist. Some people found it annoying, others didn't, it was all based around preference and compatibility. "You know it is refreshing to find someone so forward these days. People are so distrusting these days. We are all people, but that is not the case to most people, we are all strangers. The term itself makes one think of a creeper, or a spook. Who knows what someone might be. Quick to leap at the thought that someone is going to shank you and steal your money. Neighbors aren't even neighborly anymore! They build fences, walls and avoid eye contact. The more secluded you are from the people around you the better place to live it is. It's a damn society of hermits, but these people haven't the life experience to be so distrusting." Richard coughed a bit, the crosswalk indicated it was safe to cross so he began to do so.
"Sorry, I always think myself into a tangent. I'm grateful for your kindness is what I was trying to say." It was difficult to imagine that was all he was trying to say with his long rant. But it was obvious that he was quite prone to getting lost in his thoughts, proof that their collision was just him being clumsy. "This city sure can be frustrating sometimes, difficult to cooperate with at least. The dense shadows cast by these tall building always seem to be working against us." There was no telling what Richard was talking about or how he managed to lead himself down this train of thought. But that was just the way Richard was, it couldn't be helped.
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Richard Greaves
Richard Greaves
The_Butterfly_Effect
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Edit:
Her iPod was still off, the headphones around her neck silent, but a song still fell from her lips as she sang softly whilst running down the street, past all the wonderful shops, weaving in and out of peoples way. A glance over her shoulder told Sera that the Cloak Agent was indeed following her, as she knew he would, but what she didn’t take notice of was the fact he had a gun and was actually aiming it, planning on gunning her down in broad daylight. Sera heard the commotion behind her down the street, she wanted to stop running and face this guy head on like in the old days, with all the chaos and screaming, she couldn’t help herself. Much like sonic the hedgehog or roadrunner, one second Sera was sprinting flat out and the next she was standstill motionless, turning round casually to stare down the street and watch people run about. The business man, that tatty Cloak agent had actually fired his gun,
No doubt a rookie… the nerve of that guy. I was only shopping... no one's dead.
Tilting her head to one side and watching the scene as if she were an outsider, instead of involved, Sera blinked in surprise when she tasted the metallic tang of blood on the air. Cocking an eyebrow towards Sono as he knocked out the Cloak whilst being wounded himself, she got the hint though and turned to start running again. She completely overlooked Hiro as she sped past him, with Sono and the business Cloak on their tail. Sera wasn’t sure what she should do now, what with Sono being injured, leaving a crimson brick road for whoever wanted to follow them.
I really wanted to buy some stuff too… and the arcade as well, I haven’t been today. Wonder if I ought to dye my hair or buy a wig… they know what I look like after all. Sera gave an exasperated sigh, still keeping her swift pace up, she turned a corner at the end of the street, still staying within the shopping district as she didn’t want to go anywhere near the Inn with this trouble. She burst out laughing when she wondered what Janet would do if they brought the Cloaks back with them, dead or alive.
Suddenly a voice was speaking inside her head, she silenced her dancing thoughts to listen and cried out delightedly, Oh Sono! You’re still alive back there? Another trickle of laughter as she nodded her head to herself whilst listening. You know, there were some really nice rings in that shop back then, couldn’t you just propose to me like some normal guy? Instead of confessing your love in this roundabout way… Haha. I kid. Heck, you’re a fun guy to be around, that’s for sure. I’ll forgive you, if you forgive me. Call us even. There was silence on the other end of the line and Sera frowned, wondering what Sono was doing, she glanced over her shoulder and couldn’t see him past the sparse crowds in this particular area of the north district. Maybe he’d gone a different way?
Just as she was thinking this, her eyes caught sight of a hotdog vendor, one of the usuals who she frequented in the mornings. Despite being in this danger, despite the urge to run and hide, despite being chased by a Cloak in broad daylight, Sera couldn’t help but run back the way she came, making a beeline towards the vendor and its very recent customer who had already taken a bite from his footlong with chilli.
“Mon armour!” She sang out in her melodious voice, sprinting and skipping towards Asher with her golden eyes wide and bright, her lips spread in a dazzling smile; the vendor cried out in alarm, recognising this crazy woman as the thief who keeps coming back. Sera spotted Sono run past, a bandage now on his arm where he had been hit, no doubt the agent would be close now, but the hotdog was even closer, all she had to do was reach out and snatch it, just like always. But her fingers only managed to brush against Asher’s hand before her eyes caught sight of the Cloak turning the corner, he spotted her at the same time, a pistol still in his hand, the distance was a bit close for comfort Sera thought.
Darting away from the guy with the tempting chilidog, she charged at the Cloak agent with the intention of a full blown tackle, giving him no time to raise the gun and fire, her left arm shot out sideways, clotheslining the agent right in the neck. There was a sick gurgle sound that came from him as he fell flat on his back, Sera cried out in surprise, as if she hadn’t been aware of what her body was doing. Pedestrians were either running away in fear or calling for help, though people were unsure what the situation really was. Sera used this to her advantage, jumping backwards away from the man’s hand as it tried grasping at her leg, she shouted down at him,
“Quit stalking me already! I told you before; I’m this close to getting a restraining order!” Glancing around at the befuddled humans, then back down to the Agent who was gradually pulling himself back together, Sera started off down the street again, chasing after Sono and ignoring the cries of alarm when the Agent attempted to aim his weapon. Narrowing her eyes sharply, a grin spread across her lips when she heard the Cloak yowl in pain, not needing to look behind to know that he had no doubt dropped the gun upon finding it a little too hot for his liking. She spared a backward glance towards Asher though, gazing longingly at the chilidog that got away.
Yoshkun
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The doctor laughed quietly while shaking his head, pulling up the nearest chair so he could sit opposite of her. It was a good thing he dealt with the most unique of patients or he might have been a little embarrassed by Miwa’s comments. He had to admit it had been several years since he had worked with a sheep, let alone one as cute or deceptively old as she seemed to be.
“Do not fret Miss Miwa, going to your room will not be necessary at this time. I have something here that, at least, should clean out any infection in the wound. However, I would like to schedule an appointment for later to close the wound myself. That is, with your permission of course.” He said with a smile and a slight tilt of his head, rummaging through his front coat pocket and pulling out what appeared to be a small jar. Inside the jar was a gooey golden substance that could easily be mistaken for honey. Ivan looked over the jar with an inquisitive stare for a moment before nodding in approval and setting it on the table in front of her.
“Now, this is very special pollen derived from an ancient lily flower. It’s basically a thick healing substance that you can use to rub over the wound. The pollen will temporarily numb any pains you may be having while flushing out all of those nasty bacteria that may have built up inside. Oh, and if you feel as if you must have a taste then you are welcome to do so. It tastes very good.” He chuckled quietly, knowing full well that sheep had a tremendous appetite.
“While I’m thinking about it, I would like to discuss what happened to you before you came to be at the Elysium Inn.” He said with obvious interest, blowing a rogue stand of blond hair out of his face.”Janet informed me you were unconscious for two days and may have suffered more wounds than you are letting on. Off the record, I am appalled that someone would do that to you and I assure you that you are safe here.” There was a certain amount of compassion in his tone, perhaps revealing more about himself than he intended to.
“Now, of course I respect your privacy and if you do not wish to discuss it or wish to speak to your…er…shepherd, Kiyoshi I believe his name was, first then that’s also perfectly fine. I just want to help if there is anything I can do for you. It is my job, after all. “ He nodded as if to reassure her that he was serious, taking out a small notepad from his chest pocket and a pen from his right coat pocket; scribbling something down furiously.
“That reminds me, I’m sure I can get you a list of the rooms if you wish to know where your room is. That might be pretty useful for you I should think.” He said jokingly, humming lightly as he finished whatever it was he was writing and slipped the pad back into his chest pocket.
“It’s quite marvelous to see a sheep after such a long time. Your shepherd must be very proud of you for keeping in such peak physical condition.” He mused, reaching over to his medical bag and pulling it over into his lap so he could look through it. Ivan always seemed to be searching for something.
Mauthe
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- EVERYONE IS CHANGING
THERE'S NOONE LEFT THAT'S REAL
TO MAKE UP YOUR OWN ENDING
AND LET ME KNOW JUST HOW YOU FEEL.
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ - - - ❤ ❤ ); ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
- It would appear the morning wasn't going to turn out as bad as the witch thought it would. A refreshing thought, though, contaminated by the mans constant chatter. This didn't bug the witch at all, all was said differently when it came to the hell hound. He honestly wouldn't mind taking a bite out of this mans hand, if it got him to be silent. But he refrained from doing so, running yet again was something the hound, and in his mind knew that, the witch was also not up for it; regardless her boundless amount of energy. " this morning is going to be among the longest for me ... " muttered the canine deep in his thoughts, looking up at the witch by his side, and the man on her other.
Accompanying the mans laughter, was Zephyrine's own, and hearing his pickup line made the laughter even louder, a bashful but young laughter that easily said ' wow, that's kinda cheesy but your way too kind darlin' ! '. She had to admit, his constant chatter was like a cool breeze on a hot day, something that made it a little better she supposed. " I get where yer' come from. S'not right how people have seem to have degraded to a level of complete brute attitude and seclusion .. tsk tsk ! " swaying a finger, she giggled childishly, speaking the truth for she too was one who spoke her mind, and nothing but. Clasping her hands behind her back like a school girl she turned her attention to the man beside her as he spoke to her, truly listening to what he was saying, managing to keep up pretty well with his long rants and rambles. " I agree, can't wait till reality shanks them in the gut and they open their eyes " she said, her dark humor already beginning to show. The bells rang like a song as a breeze blew past, Zephyrine cooing to herself; she'd always preferred the cold over the heat, and it was a given it was actually a decent day, a shame to have the beginning to it so horrible, however.
" Nah, it's nothin' ! 'sides, wouldn't be too bad of a choice to walk away from my shop, it's been a hectic day at work, if you could believe it I was forced to run from a pack of unhappy customers " she said, laughing softly at her own dismay. Sonneillion, however, did not like how the witch said such a thing and did very much so bite her ankle, holding on until he was jsut about clocked in the face with her boot heel. " GOOFREGHBA ! stupid mutt, stop biting me " she growled, Soneillion growling right back as if to say ' try me. Rolling her eyes she reverted her attention back to Richard, nodding; being able to catch his last sentence in time. " It is the city, it's to be expected " she said. Managing to front the coffee shop, she opened the door and held it open for Richard to enter with her, and when he went in, she shut it closed, leaving Sonneillion outside. " Oh man .. I haven't smelt coffee in months ~ " she cooed, taking in a breath full of the scent.
Lightlender
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250
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"Are you really alive right now?
Are you truly real?
...I'm pretty sure I'm not..."
Are you truly real?
...I'm pretty sure I'm not..."
The Present...
Namir laughed. Whoever this Cerano guy truly was, he was quite a character. And to a man whose very size commanded respect, it was quite something to see a much smaller and more flamboyant being sauntering around with every bit as much confidence in himself as Taiga had in his own physique. It was like coming across a kindred soul, if nothing else. With a quick sweep of his hand that left the registry book's pages lightly stirring in an uproar in from its passing, Namir grabbed up his credit card and room key with a slight appreciative nod to the imp. It's tow likely would have snatched Mizu a few steps forward, had he been standing an inch or two closer or hadn't a desk in the way to stop him. He had half a mind to toy with the lad in the manner that Cerano had, were not the matagot already stunningly proficient in the art of gibes and associated tomfoolery between men. It was something a woman would never understand, since she could never fully enjoy the pleasure of whipping out her p***s simply to compare it to one's fellow man and emerge the victor, with the lengthiest blessings from one's own higher being. There was something in being that great and masculine conqueror of all things genital that made a man feel tenfold more than what he truly was—a timeless inequity, that simply went unchallenged by mere logic alone, which stated in no uncertain terms: 'Mine's bigger than yours so I win.'The tiger phantom was fortunate in the fact that it didn't require profound or extensive study of rocket science to see what was going on around himself, only a clever eye for minute details most might ordinarily dismiss without a second thought. Whatever the emotion linked behind it, Mizu desperately craved some sort of redemption from that Janet chick, the skunk lady with the rather nice derrière. Just judging by the sudden change of personality and drive when Janet arrived on the scene, Namir could easily tell that the imp had something on his chest that involved Ms. LePew, and since it held absolutely no importance to him, Namir shrugged and forgot about it entirely by the time Cerano finished taunting the poor lad and proceeded to show him the way to proper lodgings. "Issat right?" Namir mused, humoring the cat-eared man for a moment, stealing a not so discreet look at the man's backside in one of those ways men did that was intended more or less to make them seem secure with their own sexuality, at least enough to look at another man without feeling homophobic – which Taiga hardly was. In the wild, male camaraderie was preferred, actually. There were no secrets amongst brothers. Women held, in their capacity as majestic creatures, a great many wonders that were never duplicated; but a fellowship amongst men was a remarkable thing in its own right. Namir Jerusalem respected that. "Mm. S'alright, I guess," the Caspian murmured in a slightly derisive tone that lent only a faint hint of a flirtatious nature stuffed somewhere deep down beneath all that muscular brawn and those ruggedly feral looks he gave off every so often. "Not enough cushion for my pushin' …unfortunately. Nice try though, Frenchie. Tell ya what. I'll keep ya in the runnings, big guy. You gotta nice set o' lips…"
Whether that was a bit of idle humor, a joke, or an honest bit of flirting was anyone's guess. With the large cat's deep, unemotional voice that betrayed no real trace of sentiment or uncertainty in his words, Cerano might as well have tried his luck against the tiger's poker-face instead. Namir always blinked a lot when he had a decent hand. Too bad for Cerano; Taiga had on his deeply tinted sunglasses. It would seem Lady GaGa would be the only one dealing with poker-faces today. Observed everything going on in the inn as he passed by, if only out of idle curiosity and a bit of boredom—he could grow unenthused all too easily and kept his eyes and mind busy to avoid doing so prematurely at times. Otherwise, he'd likely never finish anything in his lifelong quest for knowledge. He took a glance at Janet once more, cursing his fate not to have made a better first impressing, nudging Cerano (unknowingly shoving the man a little due to his immense size) with a head jerk in the skunk demon's direction. However, in a single statement, he proved exactly how oblivious he was in this situation. "Now THAT'S a junky-trunk, right there. Très Magnifique, non?" the big dumb lummox prodded with a mutually big dumb grin and a simply pathetic French accent. He paused for a moment, obviously realizing his blunder in the presence of an honest-to-goodness Frenchman. His ears folded back as though he were a scolded kitten, reproached by his own inner subconscious. "Er…sorry. I won't do that again. Promise."
There were so many unfamiliar faces and scents. Taiga rarely remembered a face unless it stood out. Hell, in about a week without contact, he'd likely forget Cerano—despite the man's unearthly glamour and radiance. A cat's nose becomes it's eyes in the wilds of the jungle and Namir was no exception to such a rule, ciphering the many scents around him without bothering to apply a name to them. He'd save names for when they were important enough to recall, let alone learn from the people around him. Naturally, he smelled Cerano first, light and gingery, with a hint of some sweet fragrance that otherwise masked the faint smell of another feline within the room. Despite being male, he realized he probably felt so connected with the newly-made acquaintance simply because of their similar smell. It was probable, at least, so Namir didn't rule out the possibility of it. Next, there was the desk attendant's scent and Janet's scents mingling together on his and Cerano's clothes. Mizu, oddly, smelled of a fishy aroma that was untraceable by most noses, but easily deduced by a tiger who hunted his prey for a living. Janet smelled like a cat, but also a dog and a rodent. In the end, Namir couldn't figure out exactly what category she fit into and registered her by the irregularity of her scent alone. She was the funny-smelling ba-dunk-a-dunk lady. Then there was the scent of an insect, which oddly gave off a grassy smell that Taiga didn't think long about or even diagnose. Cats ate insects and grass on occasion, whenever sick. He didn't see a wealth of insects nearby and was left to assume that one of the people in human form was likely not truly human, if not everyone present, since he couldn't smell too many human scents. He didn't like the idea of chomping down on someone he would be living with for the time being, simply because he felt sick or queasy. He could faintly smell yet another cat, although this one was covered in the earthy scent of some open plains that Taiga had never been to. Near that scent was insect, and not far off was the unmistakable scent of lamb, or something, which made Namir undeniably hungrier at the thought.
"Got a motley band o' misfits here, huh, Cerano? Everywhere I look, I smell breakfast, lunch, or dinner…" he joked, particularly sounding serious when he glanced in Miwa's direction. She was the closest thing to the Fourthmeal he could smell. She'd better just pray that New City had a Taco Bell nearby whenever he was jones-ing for a snack late at night. "Oh, an' by the way, homie…" he stopped abruptly, which was noticeable for a man who had to stoop down just to walk around without cracking the top of his scalp on every hanging fixture imaginable within the inn. Thrusting out his fist, Taiga offered Cerano the single-most widely recognized greeting amongst men ever since the high-five died out in the early nineties; the fist bump. "Call me Taiga, not 'sir'. It feels too stuffy and I prefer first names for the people I know. Ya know?" he offered, along with an earnest smile that might have made the poor sheep girl, Miwa, flee in terror from the sheer count of so many sharp teeth. He doubted Cerano would bail, however. That would utterly suck, leaving a man hanging in mid-bump. Homeboys simply weren't supposed to do that. It wasn't cool to be a total jerk, after all…not unless you had a gimmicky dance to go along with it, anyway. He shot the matagot a sharp and apprehensive glare over the rim of his sunglasses.
"You're stuck with 'Frenchie' though, Frenchie. Deal with it."
Ms Silver Lining
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When the witch hunter left Hiro with his only comment and goodbyes the young male was left to think about what was said. Hiro loved the hunt; he honestly loved the hunt and fighting his enemies. He just absolutely loved it and there was no better feat then to win a battle and take out yet another sick and deformed demon. If anyone had asked him why he loved to fight there was no true reason. The gifted never done anything to his family or killed anyone he was in love with. He wouldn't be able to understand the word love then to know what it felt like to lose someone he loved. However, no matter how emotionally dense or tense he may be he was, in some cases, thoughtful and what the hunter had said put the fighter in his thoughtful state. To the point where people were walking around him with a questioning stare. While others bumped into him with attitudes as if he was in their way and they didn't have the whole sidewalk to their advantage. None of them bothered him and whenever his shoulder or body was bumped into he simple rolled with the movement and ignored the person.
"Only madness and death," he mumbled to himself while raising a hand to rub his chin and then the side of his face. Somehow Hiro couldn't see himself coming to that conclusion. Death was normal, it was a way of life and even he did not fear it. So if death were all that he could see he felt and knew he would be able to live with it. He even knew that his time would be soon to come and the day he had to face it he would simply face it. Yet, the second half to the statement, madness, got him thinking on a different level. Just what was madness? Was he already mad because he felt no joy for cute things? Joy and happiness only came when he could kill and do his job. There was just something relaxing about letting go all his strength on the unfit; even if it came to lashing out on one of his own agents. Yet, he never questioned who had the choice of saying what was unfit.
He had to stop thinking about it because he was losing focus on his job. Staring blankly into the distance wasn’t always a good sign. He was still up for scouting the area and doing his job as a agent because that was all he knew would bring him joy, other then working out. Just as he turned shimmering golden locks rushed past him along with a warm breeze to force his head to turn in Sera’s direction. He watched her back and turned back around to see the rookie agent chasing after her. Hiro didn't know if this fool would try and drag him into such a wasteful chase so, he made hast and moved along the sidewalk to his right. When he was half way down the street he glanced back to watch the agent disappearing around the next corner. After that and The Hunter's simple words Hiro's high for the chase had simmered down. He shoved his hands in his pockets blending in with the people and looking for his next scouting area. He already knew this city as if the streets were his home and he loved to revisit them.
He stopped at a corner store and pushed the wood door open. A bell hummed in the air and the storeowner looked up to see who was walking in. Hiro ignored the female’s warm smile and went straight to the back of the store looking for the cold drinks. He wasn't a fan of alcohol it slowed him down and made his body groggy. He stuck to more hydrating and healthy drinks like water, PowerAid, Gatorade, fruit drinks, and cold chocolate milk. He slid the chilled glass door open and reached for a cold bottle of Yahoo. As he turned away the door sled close on its own and he reached in his pocket for his wallet. He paid the woman, she gave him change, and he was out the store. He never paid attention to his actions or how he socialized or more so how he didn't socialize. There was no time to socialize when one was constantly looking for the best place to catch the most action. He shook his drink tapping the bottom the glass bottle against the heel of his hand. Then twisted the top off and tossed its cap. He saw a good spot to hang out in front of and casually made his way through the people to post his back against the side of a building. The building was a four-floor Boarders bookstore with a small cafe on its second floor. He zippered up his jacket with his free hand and took a sip of his chocolate milk...people watching as if he were waiting for a friend.
Ms Silver Lining
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:::Τσmαhι τλε Nεκσ ☠
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- As they walked to whatever destination the vampire was taking her; the neko gazed at everything that they passed. If it were shiny, it caught her attention. If it were moving, she stared at it for longer until the vampire would turn his body and her head could not stretch far enough to see it again. Her ears twitched while her nose picked out smells that she wanted to hunt down. She never sorted the smells out or really thought of what they were. She might have looked attentive and alert but her mind was focused on the darkness chewing away at her sensitive organs. When Tomahi was tired of staring at everything she blanked with lazy energy and slowly sat her head down over the vampires arm. She didn't raise her head again until Vincent’s shadow cast over her and onto the door in front of them. It made the door look a little mincing and her ears folded back with a little fear. It was odd how a simple door seemed so frightening when the front door to the inn didn't scare her half as much. Perhaps, she finally understood the dangerous situation she was in; just one step too late for her to start thinking about danger now. The sudden fear caused tentacles of darkness to wrap around her and intensify the pain. The cat meowed in alarm as the door opened and he walked inside.
Aside from already having three lights and it being daylight Tomahi thought it glittered with gold. Her pain was temporally forgotten and her mindset was completely on how to get her hands, paws, on something else. Paintings for her to look at later, fancy pens, shiny things, and even down to the red sheets covering the bed; she would take it. If she hadn't already had a piano she would go for his too. Her paw pressed against his arm in an attempt to jump free but the hold around her lower half reminded her she wasn't free. Yet, she never took her eyes off the prizes. Even as her small body was plopped gently atop the bed where her head could hang off its side. Her little yellow eyes inspected everything. It was as if the cat had forgot about Vincent’s existence, which wasn't that hard. However, when she moved to make a move she remember the processes she was going through. The darkness was still eating her and now that she remembered it she was about to vomit again.
Before she could bring up any more blood the vampire was in her face. She jumped out of habit and lifted her head up-and-back trying to get a better look of his face. He was very pretty. She turned her head to look at him from a different angle and then rolled on her other side. Was he talking of her reasons for throwing up blood mixed with this black substance? Apparently he was and the neko was only half listening because she was still staring at his lovely face. It was since birth that Tomahi went through pain and it was since birth that she slowly died on the inside. It was amazing that she was still alive to this day. Just how long would it take for her to get use to this dark power? Her tail swished against his blankets and paused when he moved to poke her nose. She blinked, shaking her head as if she just sneezed, and looked again to see if she could still see that grin he had. From the way he was treating her before she started to wonder if she had judged him too early or if this was some kind of tactic to get his pendant back.
She turned her head watching his hand move over her side and touched the side of her fur. Her head dropped lazily against the bed to enjoy the rubbing of the side of her body. She secretly wished that he would press a little harder against her skin and pet her. The attention was just as strong a drug as it was to be a thief. She loved it! Sadly, she couldn't embrace the short moment for long for he began removing his hand and as he did so the pain left with it. Utterly amazed with his doings, Tomahi stared in awe until he walked away from her. He said that all she would feel was nausea but she didn't mind that. Feeling nauseous was better then curling up in pain. She lifted her head up and turned on her belly putting her paw froth against the side of his bed. She watched him sit and stare out the window for longer then a minute before the air from the air conditioner caught her attention. Her ear flicked to the side and her head turned to watch the drapes wave against the wall from the warm air venting into the room.
Instantly her head scooped down in a short bob and her body hunched forward only to pause abruptly. She waited as the waves stopped for a few seconds and waved again. She jumped forward, off the bed, and landed on all fours crouched low to the floor. Her tail hardly moved yet it's tip still tapped slowly behind her. Waiting for the right moment she began a quick trot across the floor before stopping again. She reached the middle of the floor still eyeing the curtain as it move. Then like a little bullet she shot across the floor and tackled the sleeve of fabric, crashing into the wall, and twisting and fumbling with it caught in her small jaws and claws. The initial attack looked as if she had hurt herself but she didn't act as if she were in pain. She shook the shock of hitting the wall off as if it were nothing. Then she paused until the curtain began to move again before she fought and tug on the sleeve again. She rolled onto her back with the end of the curtain still in her mouth and her claw stuck in its fabric. When she couldn't retract her claw she dropped the fabric from her mouth and hissed softly under her breath. She yanked and pulled with her claw and used her second paw to try and free the other. Whenever in her cat body she acted much like a cat and sometimes forgot her original goal. In her attempt to find freedom she pulled and twisted until she yanked the whole curtain down.
The shock caused Tomahi to yelp with a cat like screech. Her small fur-ball of a body twisted and turned under the curtains until the small lump stopped moving. Then gradually she began to move again slowly trying to find her way out of a maze.
Vincent W Sinnet
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The Шitcħ Ħμŋtєr
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Richard was pleased that someone he had met actually made an effort to keep up with his long ramblings. Most people just nodded and smiled, others just ignored him and walked away. Simple to say that most people didn't really feel like even being around Richard once he started on. Her dark humor didn't escape Richard, but he certainly didn't seem bothered by it. "It usually takes something so harsh to open the eyes of so many. That is life I fear..." It seemed this thought caused his smile to fade for just a moment, somewhat depressing thoughts overcoming him. He wondered what might have to happen to make people even want to open their eyes and see each other?
He listened to her reassure him that she was indeed fine with this adventure back into the coffee shop. Listening to her explain having to run from some unhappy customers. "Yes, well, I know how it is to be amongst unhappiness, my job is to do nothing but deliver unpleasant news to others. To confirm their fears and suspicions." Richard was already leading her away from himself with a standard set of lies. Hinting at a job that wasn't really his. Well, that wasn't true, when he had too he would take up occupations at a moments notice to comply with the lies he told. In fact, Richard owned a few small buildings and apartments which he used to run these business or undertake these jobs. Another example of the extremes Richard went to keep his cover. He didn't just lie, he brought his lies to life. It's what made him perfect at his job and what made him valuable to cloak. "It is difficult, but how can I refuse those who come to me seeking the truth? Everyone deserves to know the truth, even if it might destroy them."
Richard easily fell into his roles, into the people he created from the lies he told. It was so easy these days that it was almost dangerous, since he seemed to slip between facades so smoothly. Any psychiatrist would tell you that Richard had trouble identifying himself, figuring out who he was amongst all the lies. It's what made him such an excellent liar though, because half of the time he believed himself. He couldn't so easily separate everything he wasn't from what he was. But what he was could never leave his mind, it would always spring up once he got so deeply involved with the people he needed to kill that it was almost like he timed it perfectly himself. But of course that mattered little in this situation, it was just a chance encounter with a nice young lady in the street right?
Speaking of which, so enraptured with his thoughts he had managed to miss the ladies struggle with her own dog. It took until she was standing there with the door held open for Richard that he snapped out of it. He smiled and walked in with her saying "And who said chivalry is dead?" fighting back a fight of laughter at his own bad joke. He lead them to the front counter where there was no one to block their approach. No line or anything, it was a small place and hardly seen amongst the other tall buildings. Richard managed to catch her comment and looked shocked at the prospect of not having coffee in months. "Well it isn't much, but this is my favorite place these mornings in this city. As simple as it is, the coffee as well as the routine gives my mornings some substance. It's nice to have something to count on, even though any day our routines could be torn away from us by the dreaded hand of change. Ah-" Richard to the girl at the counter, simply staring at Richard as he blathered on. "Coffee, Black, Large." Richard chuckled a bit as he turned back to the woman who so politely walked him here. "There is something divine in simplicity." he said, summing up his choice of coffee.
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Richard Greaves
Richard Greaves
Yoshkun
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By the time that Sera had grazed her delicate fingertips against Asher’s rather disgusting human byproduct, Sono had already turned to watch with the helpful crutch of leaning against a telephone pole to keep from falling. The bleeding had finally come to a stop thanks to the makeshift bandage, but it still left a rather noticeable mark of torn and seared flesh underneath. In all of his time exploring the nooks and crannies of this diverse planet, Sono had never been shot by any type of firearm. The experience itself seemed very surreal. However, the pain swelling in his bicep was no match for the distraction that Sera would be so kind to provide in her moment of sheer bravado.
Sadly, it was almost impressive the way she used her forearm to absolutely club the agent’s throat with the hot intensity of a furious howler monkey. It even made him wince slightly when he heard the defeated gurgle that choked out of the man’s throat as he hit the ground with a convincing thump. The spirit knew these CLOAK agents were trained to keep coming until they were ‘deactivated’, which drew his attention away from the scene to search for an quick escape route. Luckily he was standing pretty close to a legible street sign, which he immediately recognized as being only a few blocks to his ‘apartment’ outside of the Elysium Inn. He wasn’t sure if he could sprint that long in his current condition, but anything seemed better than being simply handed over to that organization of soulless and barbaric humans. So, Sono made sure the bandages were still tight with a quick tug before peeling himself off of the pole long enough to get a jogging start in the opposite direction. His body motions weren’t nearly as perfected as they had been before, which was made clear to him by the gawking pedestrians who he happened to pass by, but it surprised him how much speed he had left in him after a full morning of exercise. He occasionally glanced over his shoulder to keep watch of Sera as she followed him, not sure as to what the phoenix was up to at this point. There was still the matter of a sarcastic retort to those wedding ring remarks, but those would have to be dealt with another time as he did not possess the energy to talk much.
If you want to come with me then I know a place that’s safe from ‘human’ eyes, however you can always split up if you want. He said bluntly, obviously struggling to mentally communicate while forcing himself to stay ahead of much more wily Sera. He eventually cut into an alley and then cut again back into an area that seemed to almost be an exact midpoint between the shopping district and the giant park from earlier. It was shady to be sure, but more importantly, it was almost completely deserted by humans. Sono came to a halt at one of the cleaner lower level windows and used his remaining strength to lift it, quickly ducking inside in case the agent had actually given chase that far. If Sera had decided to follow him into the apartment, then he would leave the window open for her until she got safely inside; if she decided to split then he would shut and lock it. Most humans would not be able to see the doings of beings inside the apartment thanks to the enchantment, but Sono wasn’t sure what those fancy contacts the agents wore were capable of.
It was best to take care of some things one way or another, as he removed his now obviously torn shirt and threw it onto the bed with a bit of added frustration. In his blind foolishness he had caught the attention of CLOAK and almost blew what he had worked so hard to protect for decades; his book of legacies. He placed his arm under the only sink in the bathroom and let the cold water run over his dried wound, gritting his teeth as he resisted the urge to scream obscenities from the immense pain. How dare they think they could shoot him or the almighty phoenix! He had half the mind to return to the fire mask and scorch the man alive in front of everyone; as a warning to all who dared to cross him. Then again, that was just the mindless rage of an irritated man talking.
He sighed and began to cover the wound with an actual white bandage he could wrap around it, this being the time Sera would have probably reached the inside if she was not busy catching butterflies or hamburgers; both of which the spirit could picture her mindlessly doing in the midst of actual combat. Sono shook his head and silently slipped on a simple black t-shirt to replace the dress shirt that was in shreds; letting his hair down with a simple tug on one of the small bands holding it up. There was no way he would ever let CLOAK have the masks he worked so hard to create and mold into meaningful identities. Each one was stashed under the bed in a large secured black trunk that seemed nearly impossible to unlock or break into. He would gladly die for this luggage, not because he valued those particular masks in an affectionate sense, but because without them he would most certainly lose himself to an eternity of prolonged insanity.
The thought was too horrifying to actually ponder over in a vulnerable moment like this, so he decided to take a well deserved sit on the edge of the bed.
Kitsune
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Cerano looked over at Mizu, catching his mumbled response just before he turned his attention to another guest in need of service. The imp was a terribly sensitive person, and while Cerano was no heartless b*****d, he at least didn't wear his heart on his pristine white, meticulously starched sleeve. He often feigned hurt and often put on a dramatic show that would have made Halle Berry's Academy Award acceptance speech look like an elementary school play performance, but he was never really as moved as he acted. But Mizu, Cerano could tell his reaction was genuine and, briefly, he wondered if maybe he had gone too far this time. Then he thought back over what he said and realized it wasn't anything to mope about. The imp should have easily brushed it off. Not once did Cerano consider that perhaps his water-borne co-worker had never endured the kinds of prejudices he had to regularly deal with since leaving home (and subsequently his wealth and status). If he had, he might apologized. Might have. Unfortunately, nothing of the sort crossed his mind and any budding pity he felt was easily forgotten in favor of concentrating on the here and now--more specifically the tiger standing here right now. His attention was recaptured by Namir and his reaction. If only he could read the unspoken words that described their hijinks. The notion of comparing genitals would have made the former elite burst into laughter before demanding to see everyone's packages to see for himself, ulterior motives aside.His gaze traveled up to the striped stranger as he laughed and leveled on the undoubtedly chiseled chest hidden from his view. And, unsurprisingly, his thoughts roamed to scandalous notions of placing and eating hors d'oeuvres off of the broad, muscular plains before he realized it would result in a mouthful of fur as well. Very unappetizing. One might wonder why that bothered him considering Cerano was a matagot and half-cat at that; creatures that lived like strays and would groom themselves regularly as any common feline would. But he never took a full feline form in his life (and doubted he even could) nor did he invest any time in cleaning himself with his tongue. Why on earth would anyone partake in such a practice when things like soap and hot running water were almost always available somewhere at any given time? If someone asked him to hunt with them or to kill something bigger than a common bug, he would politely turn the offer down and invite them to have a meal at the inn instead. The matagot and his family were grouped among the soft supernatural beings--the kinds that had lost their primal instincts after spending too much time living among the humans--and Cerano, unlike the majority, was proud of it. When Namir gave his backside a brief look and passed judgement on it, Cerano nearly gawked. 'S'alright'? Surely it was worth more than a simple "s'alright"! Michaelangelo couldn't have sculpted a finer work of natural art! It was enough to make the matagot look back to see if perhaps his pants made it look disproportionate. Which would have been impossible. Everything he wore looked hot. Still, if Namir preferred junky trunks, he could do little about that. He certainly wasn't going to dive into the junk food. At least he admitted he had nice lips and really, that was far more important to Cerano than his hindquarters. He fixed the tiger with a sly sidelong glance and grinned before something caught his eye--or rather his nose.
The matagot sniffed subtly, drawing in a sharp breath through his nostrils and discerning the odors within it. Beneath the familiar odors of those he had been in company with for the last few moments and the waning aromatic cocktail produced by breakfast, he could smell him. Every man alive needed an adversary; someone who could spurn you at every turn and almost always managed to play the part of the thorn in your side. Someone to call your greatest enemy. Cerano didn't have any such person before landing in New City. Perhaps he had been too jaded to see them, but not anymore. He had enemies and one just happened to be an equally good-looking, but far less flamboyant creature by the name of Vincent. He didn't start out as an adversary. At first, the matagot was smitten with him and did flirt a little, though it was poorly taken by the vampire. He acted as if Cerano were so far beneath him he wasn't worth the dust that went into his bones. The butler was unused to receiving such treatment from anyone but Janet--and even then the man knew she didn't think he was that bad, but Vincent... It confounded Cerano. He generally didn't believe in hating people and he thought of himself as a lover, not a fighter, but Vincent made it hard to live up to that credo. Nostrils slightly flared, the butler shifted his stance and watched Vincent walk through the lobby to the stairs through the corners of his eyes. There was something different about him. Something wasn't right, but he didn't have the time to deduce what. Namir nudged him (which nearly knocked the poor distracted man over) and Cerano scrambled to catch himself while maintaining his confident air. His eyes did widen and a startled flash swept through them for a split second before he was standing with a perfect posture once more, gaze switching from Namir to the reason behind the nudge. What had garnered the tiger's appreciation? Why, his boss' backside. It was certainly one of the last things the butler cared to see. It forced him to think like a straight man for once (something he, admittedly, didn't do enough of). Was that really magnificent? He turned a look on Namir; one that seemed to ask "say what now?" He might have assumed it was because of the accent, but it was more for the comment itself and the fact that he expected him to rate his boss' backside. That violated all kinds of work rules. Not to mention Cerano didn't know how to even begin to critique that. He looked back at Janet then closed his eyes and sighed deeply, his shoulders lifting and falling in an exaggerated shrug. "It is, how you say, 's'alright'." That was about as much as he'd get from him on the topic of the skunk's junky trunk. Talking anymore on it would weird up the employee-employer relationship he had with his boss (or in Cerano's case, the slave-slave driver relationship). "And it is fine, my furry friend," he said with a less exaggerated shrug. "I truly found it amusing." He wasn't as uptight as most of the French were. Perhaps it was the fact that he wasn't full-blooded and had Italian in him. Then again, Italians were known for being feisty as well and easy to wile. The two probably just canceled each other out. That or he simply didn’t care to conform to those particular stereotypes in favor of exhibiting his own. A student could write an entire dissertation on the odd quirks surrounding the man.
Glancing over at him, Cerano smirked at the comment of delicious aromas and looked away. "Yes, this place does attract the most colorful of people." Namir included. He wasn't the most ordinary looking being with his large size, furry hide and teeth sharp enough to bite through a limb in one snap of his powerful jaws. Despite the obvious danger and the fact that the tiger could tear him apart and devour every scrap of him in a heartbeat, the matagot felt no concern for his life. He was frightened or unsettled, and not even the least bit wary though he probably should have been. He cocked his head to the side when called 'homie' and sent Namir a curious look that was quickly replaced with one of slight surprise when a balled fist the size of his head (which was exaggerated in his eyes) was raised his way only to stop midway. He stared at it blankly for a moment, unsure what to make of the gesture before a light bulb lit up in his head. It was a fist bump. He wasn't completely clueless in the current fads and such. In fact, he fancied himself quite knowledgeable in urban lingo and non-verbal communication. This was what they called "the dap"; men used it all the time among each other, but never with him. Seeing this as some new threshold never before crossed, the eager butler raised a gloved hand to return the gesture with a light bump with as much strength as he could muster in the split second before contact. It wouldn't send Namir flying through a wall or even be enough to affect his stance in any way. "Ouah! Taiga it is." It was an adorable nickname, ranking right up there Fluffy, and it hinted to the man's somewhat playful personality. He had a sense of humor that wasn't completely warped like most of the other people who stayed in the Inn--or so Cerano gathered from the brief time they spent together at the front desk. The smile he was given only inspired the matagot to flash one of his own; one that showed off his mildly-sharpened canine fangs surrounded by ordinary, pearly white teeth. He could star in a Crest commercial if it weren't for the fact that they were too perfect. Everyone who bought the toothpaste expecting to achieve the kind of smile the butler had would demand a full refund and probably sue the company for false advertising. "You may call me what you like so long as you call me."
With introductions taken care of, the matagot motioned for Taiga to follow him up the stairs. He walked swiftly, as most in his profession, his gait so smooth that he practically glided across the floor. The man could easily carry a stack of books with a water-filled glass balanced on top without spilling a single drop and could probably pull off the watoosie while he was at it. One could say he had a promising future in ballet if it weren’t for the fact that Cerano had no desire to pursue it. Far too many women jumping and prancing about for his tastes. Ascending the steps quickly, the man led Taiga toward his room. "So, Taiga... How much can you bench press?""'Ello, See-rano-suh," a chipper feminine voice called out from ahead. Dressed in her uniform with a Swiffer Sweeper resting against one shoulder like a shotgun, Iria had stepped out of an unoccupied room in time to spot the two fast approaching. The maid was of average height with a build that could almost be seen as fragile like a doll, though she was anything but. One had to be sturdy to make it as a maid in Elysium and Iria could throw her weight around when she had to. She was a regular sight around the inn since she spent most of her day zipping back and forth, cleaning rooms, sweeping floors, wiping windows and dusting furniture in the common areas. She also directed the other maids in their duties, acting as a head chef would among the lower-ranking cooks. And, as one would expect from someone in a position of power, Iria ran a tight ship much like Janet and Bob. Sure, most of the maids had trouble deciphering things she said on occasion and would often turn to Cerano or Mizu for a translation if they were around, but they knew she expected them to stay on the ball and keep things orderly. If dust and dirt were demons and spirits, then Iria and her maids were CLOAK agents, wiping them all out indiscriminately. It ate the hydra up inside that no one could see how nice the building was on the outside from the street, though. She understood it was for the sake of keeping their safe house safe, but still. It was hard, but she tried not to reflect on it. Iria smiled so broadly that her eyes had no choice but to squint shut to make room for her rosy cheeks. Her long hair was tied up and pinned in a bun on top of her head to keep it out of her face while she worked.
All in all, she was a happy person and hoped everyone around her would feel the same way. She shifted the dust mop to her other shoulder and reached behind her to grab the door knob of the room she just left. "Ya 'ard at werk or 'ardly werkin'?” She lightly shut the door behind her then started fumbling with the ring of keys she pulled from her pocket, searching for the one that would lock the room.
"Working hard, of course," the butler responded, ignoring the way she pronounced his name. No amount of coaching could get her to say it correctly so he found it easier to simply deal with it. He made no effort to introduce Taiga to the pointy-eared maid who seemed quite interested in the tall beast-man though she honestly tried not to stare at him. It was rude and he might take offense.
