Welcome to Gaia! ::

(( Sounds good to me as well. :] We'll miss you, though. :< ))

~ 理 Aya ~

Shock was evident on Aya's face when the dish boys took their plates and cups.
That, had certainly not been expected...
"I think this is the first time since I was a kid, that I wasn't expected to wash my own dishes... or dishes in general..." Tetsuya spoke, watching as the kitchen staff began to quickly clean the plates. "Sometimes, I would get stuck on clean-up duty at the onsen... when a traditional meal entails about ten different dishes per person... yeah... washing them gets a bit old." he smiled, hoping to keep Tel from feeling awkward around him whatsoever.

A tour then.
"You've seen more of this place than I." Aya spoke as they headed into the first floor lobby. "This and the kitchen and dinning room... and my room... is it for me. Though, the Madame DID mention a library somewhere on the grounds."
He was smiling that oh-so-familiar, kid in a candy store, type of smile... just at the mere thought of it all!
"I'll probably hole myself up in there during off time," the man laughed. "Just think of all those books begging to be opened!"

The lobby was quite large, and as Aya stared up at the crystal chandelier that hung over the middle of the room... the young man quickly realized that this place was a lot bigger than he'd given it credit for being before.
"Where to start could be more confusing than just walking around. I'd rather not get lost." Tetsuya laughed softly, betraying his penchant for bad directions. "How about we just start walking, hmm?"

~ 慶永哲哉 Yoshinaga Tetsuya ~

(((OOC: Have a fun vacation, achanceforgrace!)))

(((OOC: That's okay! Though I'm rather unsure of what Aya will do once Tel's sick... he'll be all alone! *tear*)))

[( I am not dead, I am just waiting on people. xD )]

(((OOC: Hehehe, obviously not dead here, just waiting. Happy New Years!)))

(( Sorry if this is half-assed, but I think I tried my best.. And for posting so late. Still haven't gotten my laptop fixed. Holidays and all interfered. ))

Solera

Dimitri stared openly at the woman as she proceded to tap on the thin instrument. The thing was a little old school in his opinion, but to each their own. Idly, the man stole a not so secretive glance at his entourage. What was this? His eyebrows rose slightly in mild surprise. Gervas had just shown an expression the blonde had long given up on extracting. Indignant anger flared in the older man's eyes. The servant's usually merry mouth turned into a tight twitchy line. Something in Dimitri stirred with what some might call worry or curiosity. The cause of all this was of course, Teddy who was looking more like a puppy dog than a bear. Just as he was about to demand an explanation for their off behavior, the woman handed him a crisp business card.

"...Halloween?" he asked aloud. The pagan holiday was far from foreign to him, yet the word left his mouth tasting bitter and strange. God, why did he have to have issues with everything? But did it have to be the one holiday that bothered him most? With it came firmly attached the string of events he wished and wished forever erased from his wretchedly good memory. But. Hah. This was one of the reasons he always ended up in new places. These issues might one day be addressed properly if... if whatever happened in those places caused him to be able to get over it. Yes, it was as vague and simple as that!

Those golden eyes of his followed the woman's figure as it made it's leave. He looked at the other two men, half wishing them away. There was a sudden and strong urge for a private moment. To think things through like a sane man or to break down into the comforting state of the immoral. Oh, how he'd love to give into the beckoning rage, the freedom of it all! Dimitri felt his hand tense around the little card. His fingers itched to crush it and never deal with it again. But there was that incessant little voice that said he had to be a 'gentleman.' The very voice that reminded him that he was in Madam Usagi's home, that he was Dimitri Arden Kieva, and he was ...entirely and utterly alone. No. Wait, that was the other voice. No matter, that creeping voice always rang true. Now that he'd begun to listen to it, he found he couldn't stop. Not now. All doubts and fears and insecurities threatened to crack and pour through all of Dimitri's defenses. And so, for just an instant, he let his guard down. The man swallowed hard as he tucked the card away. The decision was cemented. Shakily, he got to his feet. The opprotunity had presented itself and he'd be a fool not to take it. It was high time he stopped waiting for things to happen. The blonde would face his demons at that party and maybe, just maybe he'd be able to get what he wanted most.

Looking much like his old self again, the man walked out the door without a single glance backwards. The help was expected to follow. People listened to him regardless of being alone. They would bend to his will or be dismissed from his kingdom. His reality. Something snapped back into place as he glanced about the hallway. Enough of all that dramatic s**t. Huzzuh! Sense had returned! Glorious fantastic sense! Suppressing a maniacal smile, Dimitri wandered off towards the lobby. Suppose it was about time to get going. So should he see the Madam or was she currently busy? Maybe he if left a message with one of the staff... Suddenly, the man froze midstep. He cocked his head to one side trying to recall something that may have been important. Something that had to do with why he was here...? His brow furrowed in thought as he softly bit down on his bottom lip. Something that was amusing. Sonnen! Usually the man was on the impatient side. If it weren't for the mention of a Halloween party, the Companion would have already been called up, made fun of, then maybe dismissed. Sasha! Such a name to that stoic face still evoked silent laughter from him.

Having been lost in thought about Sasha for quite some time, he was surprised to find himself near the entrance way. Gervas and Teddy both appeared to be giving him the same overly concerned look. Had something happened? Well, whatever. Dimitri highly doubted it was very important if they weren't saying anything. Instead, he turned his attention to the door man who seemed rather perplexed. "I really hope the Madam doesn't mind, but I have to be going now," he said casually, ignoring the whole odd atmosphere. It wasn't as if anybody was naked or covered in blood. Or naked and covered in blood. "Please inform her that I... had fun, and will highly likely be attending Emerald's Halloween bash." Hah! The blonde managed not to spit the word out this time. That in itself was a feat worth bragging about to all his past psychologists. Unfortunately, there was still a little venom in the word so he couldn't tell his mother about it. Not that she knew his reasons for detesting the celebration. She just had the stubborn streak to question him over and over about it. Then berate him. "I suppose I'll see her again then." God, he always had trouble with goodbyes, even when the very person wasn't even there to listen to it. "Uh, happy doing business and I hope that we'll continue being on good terms. Later," he finished on an awkward note. Turning away, the man headed towards the front door.

For some strange reason, there was hesitation. What could it have been? With a expression that hinted at worry, he took one glance back before exiting. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't so important since hey, he would've bothered to remember it. Though he did have the habit of remembering those really trivial things. Like those angel demons on the carpet, and that nice doorman's face. Ah well.

Moments later their group arrived at the armored limo. At the sight of another one, an almost identical one, he suddenly recalled his dilemma with Walenty. That kid! God, he hated seeing him everywhere. All the time. And since the other limo was still here, it meant there was more sightings in the near future. Hopefully, he'd be able to avoid confrontations. Or being next to him. Or across the room eye contact. The thought of doing any of that any time soon made him want to tear apart someone's childhood home with a sledgehammer and half a ton of dynamite.

His anger slowly ebbed away as they moved past the gates. As the trees and the towers passed, Dimitri calmed enough to notice Gervas's steeliness. The blonde almost wanted to ask. But seeing as he had enough troubles as it was without hiring a new butler and a new chauffeur, he trained his line of sight on the quickly passing scenery. Thoughts of the Halloween event that was to come caused dread to creep into his mind. With a grimace he turned his focus on the design of his costume. It was a masquerade after all and the right camouflage made all the difference.

Sonnen: Voltaire

This was definitely not what Sonnen signed up for when he joined Guilty Pleasures. Of course he couldn’t expect zero emotional problems, but one onslaught all at once was not what was expected. A pinch here, a struggle there, maybe a break down somewhere along the line. Now that break down time was coming all too soon. Of course he couldn’t do there here in front of someone — all his dramatics aside, he was still a prideful man — but he knew it was mounting and imminent. Just… not here.

Wow. Othello sure did cry a lot. Maybe it was a Japanese thing; those boys tended to cry a lot in the movies and books. Were they weirdly emotional by nature, just like Russians were rumored to be strangely violent by nature? Well, he was just a little sniffly; maybe he had allergies or something and— oh s**t, now he was bawling. Just flat-out sobbing. This panicked him a bit; sure, he knew how to deal with angry, lustful, even sad people, but hysterical was something else all together. Not quite sure what to do with himself, Sonnen just sighed and rubbed Othello’s back soothingly, wishing he knew what he could do to make the crying just stop. It was hard to have a meaningful conversation when the other party was emotionally compromised. His hands roamed over the boy’s back and then down to his sides, feeling the protrusion of hipbone, which almost made him smile. Skinny as a rail. Sonnen used to have hips like these, he mused, since him and his friends almost never ate when they were younger in high school. Who needed food when you had a wealth of cigarettes, vodka, and open thighs? Though he doubted this was the cause of Othello’s litheness; he probably just had one of those weirdly fast metabolisms. Once more, his hands shifted and snaked back up his back and one hand cupped the back of his red head, hair not unlike his own when he was a few years younger. Much shorter and finer, perhaps, but the color was similar. Sonnen’s hair had always been thick and notoriously tangly, but he knew the nature of Asian hair was different and much softer and featherier. It reminded him of how his father over reacted once, when he was in primary school, to a man who had mistakenly asked if they had any Irish in their blood to produce such a hair color. His father, with a name like Ivan and a countenance just as intimidating, had been greatly offended.

“Irish!?” he had gasped, face contorted in rage and disgust. “Of bloody course not! Do you see this beautiful auburn?” Then Daddy had pulled little Sasha (as he was known then) against himself and crouched down to his level, running his fingers through his son’s hair. The aforementioned son was trembling a little, since having an angry daddy was never good for the rest of the world. “This is not orangey, coppery, nasty Irish red!” He then spat on the ground at the prospect at such a notion. “This is Russian red! Slavic red! And how dare you compare me to those orange-haired, jolly beer drinkers!”

Needless to say, that man had never talked to them ever again. Sonnen’s father was quite a scary man when he wanted to be. Sonnen had stopped being addressed by his first name at his own request, since whenever Sonnen heard the name ‘Sasha,’ he would immediately square his shoulders and about-face to look into the eyes of his upset father. It was not a very pleasant reaction. So, this problem was fixed with his middle name. It was one of the reasons he’d dyed his hair in college, too, when his father couldn’t object; he’d been so bloody proud that he’d birthed a son with hair as vibrant as his own (though that was the only thing he was proud of).

…And now laughing. Wow, Othello deserved the nickname ‘emotional rollercoaster.’ Though, Sonnen supposed he had a bit of this problem himself, since he did much the same thing prior to now. Well, at least the tears stopped, and Sonnen gathered his bearings enough to chuckle along, though he wasn’t quite sure what they were laughing about. It didn’t really matter. Othello’s laughing, though, was something else. Sonnen wasn’t quite sure he’d ever heard a laugh that was so happy sounding. This seemed like a strange thing to think, since the nature of laughing was caused by being amused, so all laughing would therefore be happy; but Othello’s was somehow different. He couldn’t quite place why, which made him wonder if it was all in his head. This was often the case as well. The boy’s hands were still soft with youth and uncalloused. Like a soft bunny rabbit, it made Sonnen feel the need to rub them on his face, but he thankfully resisted that particular urge; it was just kind of strange.

Sonnen immediately felt when the aura dimmed in the room, making him freeze, all previous mirth now forgotten. He could feel the little hairs on his neck stand up. Crap, was he having a panic attack? Wouldn’t that just be perfect. But no, he knew this was something else. Othello looked like he was ‘in the zone’ again, so that was probably it, but damn, this was uncomfortable. Hesitantly, Sonnen pulled away from the boy, regarding him warily. Why was he going into fortune-reading mode? Crap, was he trying to read Sonnen’s mind!? This notion made his eyes widen, but then he quickly gathered himself and knew that was a stupid thing to assume.

…Or maybe not. Othello reeeeally talked like he could hear Sonnen’s thoughts, which was not a very pleasant thought. Also, the talking with plural pronouns was unnerving, too. ‘We’? Why was he referring to himself as more than one person? Thiiiis was kind of creepy. What he was saying was both surprising and unsurprising at the same time; in the back of his mind he knew Othello having a crush on him was a distinct possibility, but didn’t actually consider the repercussions of such a thing. This hadn’t ever really happened before. Lust, yes, but genuine attraction? This was kind of new. And… good? He wasn’t sure. Othello’s hands on his face, though, calmed him again. Strange how physical contact had that affect on him. The peck on his cheek caused a quick flush on his cheeks, and Othello covering his eyes gave him time to gather himself again so hopefully he wouldn’t notice.

Damn. Now the ball was in his court. And Sonnen had no idea what to say. Well, at least Othello looked as bashful as himself; he couldn’t really look at the boy either. He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want to lie and say ‘yes, I like you, too’ but didn’t want to lie and say ‘no, I don’t like you.’ He… kind of liked him? Sonnen wasn’t sure. He surely had stronger feelings toward Othello than any other Companion, that was for sure, but he didn’t know if they were wholly good feelings or not. Partially good, at least. Okay, so he liked Othello a little. At the moment. …Was that okay to say? It seemed kind of mean. Regardless of his answer, he couldn’t be in this room another second and think about this problem seriously until he was alone. But he wasn’t sure how to go about getting out either.

Eventually he decided on a simple, hopefully tactful approach. He leaned in and pecked the wing of Othello’s nose, since it seemed like an appropriate thing to do given the boy’s personality. Standing, he pet Othello’s head briefly, softly and honestly replying, “We’ll see.” Once done, without looking back, Sonnen exited the study and made his way down the hall to the elevator. No, elevator was too short; he needed to take the stairs, give himself some thinking time. Sure, his room was on the sixth floor, but that was okay. Exercise was something he rarely got nowadays, so that would be good, too. He heard exercise helped stress, which was a big factor at the moment. *

HOLY. CRAP. What was going wrong with his life? He certainly felt fine about how he was living before, but after Othello’s voodoo, freaky, mind-reading card thing, he was suddenly questioning his entire way of thinking and functioning. Was reacting to people so indifferently really the best thing? Was never talking about things that bothered him okay? And the whole first impression thing, was it really fair to judge someone based on that and never change his mind? Was distancing himself from close relationships really helping him at all? Would a close relationship make him feel more complete or happy? Was he really happy? Was he just telling himself he was happy so that he’d believe it, even though it might be a lie? No, Guilty Pleasures was his favorite place in the world. He was happy living here, and he got to pursue his passion without fear of poverty and mass rejection of the media. This was the perfect outlet for his personality, since he was a bit thin-skinned. If someone didn’t want you as a Companion, then they didn’t have to tell you or anything; they just moved on to someone else and that was that, no big deal; there were always others. Yes, this was a good system.

BUT. What about his persona life? He didn’t really have any close friends around here. He spoke to some of his old friends occasionally, and him and the Madam engaged in talks now and then, but was that really enough social engagement to keep him functional? Was he craving more closeness and interaction than he was getting? Was repressing the crazier, funnier side of his personality really what he wanted to do? ******** if he knew.

And now he was on the sixth floor. So caught up in his musings was he that he didn’t realize he’d been jogging, and was now a bit out of breath and slightly… glistening. A shower, then. That would clear his mind, too. He punched in his security code and locked his door behind him, all but ripping his clothes off as he walked through his large bedroom to his attached bathroom. When he was actually in the space, he was left standing in only his briefs. Water. Right, water. Music, too! Trying to keep his thoughts coherent enough to run a shower, Sonnen quickly turned the water on (mostly hot) and then used a voice command to start a playlist blasting while he bathed; it kept his mind off things and let him relax, even if the music was progressive hard rock. Inspecting his appearance in the wide mirror, Sonnen spotted a bright red streak down the part in his hair. Great. His roots were showing. He’d have to get that taken care of, too. Sighing, he removed his underclothing and kicked it aside, never having been the cleanest person in the world. Cleanliness was definitely the last thing on his mind, after all.

He knew his shower was ready when the mirrors fogged, and he gratefully stepped into his steaming hot shower. His shower was big enough for one, maybe two people if they cuddled real close, which was just how he liked it. The walls were distorted glass, which vibrated slightly as the pounding bass of the music disturbed them. This was something else that helped him relieve stress: Shower singing. What was so grand about it was that he didn’t have to sing well in the shower; he could just belt it out at the top of his lungs, and no one would be the wiser, since the walls were sound proofed.

“I’ve got a bad case of turning it up. It’s gettin’ cold in here, so fire it up!” he practically yelled as he hastily scrubbed himself. As the suds rinsed off, Sonnen played his invisible drum set, even though he’d never touched a percussive instrument in his life; his father wouldn’t let him.

His shower was short, but relaxing, and he ordered the music off to dry himself. …Might as well take a nap, right? Seemed perfectly fine to him. Stepping out of the shower gingerly, Sonnen wiped the fog off his mirror and did his facial cleansing, hair treatment, and then lotion to most of his upper body (and knees). He sighed, counting the freckles on his face and shoulders. Damn blasted things. And of course there was a picnic in the next few days, so he’d have to be exposed to the sun, which only made them stand out more. Though covering some of the stupid little dots on his left shoulder blade was a small tattoo he’d gotten when he turned eighteen: a bass clef and a treble clef, which formed a heart. It seemed fitting for him, but he’d resolved to never get another tattoo again. It hurt, damnit.

Even though it was just a nap, Sonnen still put on pajamas and turned his lights out, closed the curtains. His bed suddenly seemed like a monster ready to swallow him, and he was more than willing as he collapsed onto it with a heavy sigh. ‘My life… is so hard,’ he thought melodramatically. Shortly after, Sonnen drifted off, and only saw red hair and blue eyes.


(( We love that you love it. :> And as Keita has said, yes, there is a Halloween picnic thing planned for all Companions to attend to meet Clients for the first time (or not first time). I was also thinking that the Companions who have no Clients yet could perform at the picnic, like a vaudeville type thing. Whatcha think? Also, sorry for the post length. Really, the only important part is before the *, and everything after is my muse just running wild. Not very important. Just character detail crap.

SO, if you can't tell, I'm trying to wrap this day up. So don't rush into a stopping place, but try to make your way there so we can timeskip. :] I'm getting Tel and Braedin's posts typed as fast as I can, never fear.

Also, do I assume that since no one made a comment on the actual new maps themselves that everyone hates them? xD Really, do they help at all now that I've put them up? I need feedback. ))

Break away from everybody, break away from everything.

If you can't stand the way this place is, take yourself to higher places.