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 Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 8:07 pm
Keita/Ariyoshi It looked as though the young French-Japaneseman was loving Ariyoshi's sudden shyness. It was alright he supposed, but it wasn't something he was used to. Ariyoshi had been less than accommodating to the boy earlier so this was only fair. They walked in silence for a moment as Ariyoshi reflected on his experiences with the good home of Madam Usagi. It started in a maze with a phantom, turned into a duel with a slobbering drunk, a... slightly awkward conversation with another Japanese child then a pleasant showing of dancing talent and now? Now he was off to a Shooting Exhibition! It was truly a fantastic home.
That's not to say his life was completely boring, but within these grounds anything was possible! He'd been entertained more in one night than the past few months. Ariyoshi smiled at his escort. The boy had an interesting way of speaking. It really showed how young he was... and how young Ariyoshi, himself, was supposed to be. "Still, you have excellent manners. It's only proper that I note them and thank you," he commented freely. He felt as though some praise was in order since it looked as though their night was getting better.
Just as he was finding himself made comfortable by the easy conversation Teishi was excusing himself at the sound of a shout. "What is it? Something happening?" he questioned as Teishi told him to go ahead. Before any protests could be made, he found himself restraining his normal assertive self. After the fiasco earlier in the night, Ariyoshi didn't want to cause any more trouble. Whatever it was he was sure the staff could handle it... or at least he assumed as to not cause more undue strife. He instantly felt uncomfortable and unsure as he was left alone for the first time since entering the mansion.
The walk ended in an impressive shooting range for all types of weaponry and Ariyoshi stood there in the soft light of the Jack-o-Lanterns to take in the sight. He finally caught sight of Tel again as he moved about the head of the range. A few other guests pushed passed Ariyoshi and he frowned at them. He wasn't terribly sure where he should go so he lingered for a moment to the side of the path watching Tel. He couldn't help but smile at Tel's enthusiasm. This must really mean alot to him... Ariyoshi considered to himself. He crossed his arms and watched from the back of the range.
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Posted: Sun May 09, 2010 12:13 pm
Noir Louvre "You are all too kind." Noir smiled lightly. Even if it was just a show that all of the companions put on, they put on their show well. Being very polite and everything was something that came with entertaining, it was required. But in Tel, Noir could almost sense an... almost real person talking to him, and not just a lifeless drone tossed into a life of hosting. This is where Tel wanted to be, as it seemed. Who wouldn't be, really? He was in a wonderful place with so many facilities, and a wonderful madam who took good care of him, along with the rest of the companions and clients. This is someplace that Noir himself wanted to be. What would his mother say if he asked her if he could move here? "Don't get pregnant." Her words from earlier still stung.
When Tel suggested pursuing the violin, Noir just shook his head quietly. "It's not that I don't want to learn it. I'm just a lazy fool who can't find the motivation in him to continue trying to find something to please others with. It seems that everything I do goes unappreciated." He sighed another one of those sad sighs, tilting his head back as he looked into the night sky. That's just how my parents act. You should have seen their faces when I told the that I had gotten a job at a bakery! Noir had wanted to say, but he didn't. He kept it all to himself, again.
"Ah yes, thank you for the English lesson." Noir said good-humorously. "Yes, it is magnificent. I've only seen such a facility at military school, and it's not nearly as... 'Decked out' as this is." Noir said, quoting the 'decked out' part. He had heard that phrase while he was in military school in America. Why he had gone to America, he wasn't sure. The more top-notch military equipment and facilities, he assumed at the time. Tel disappeared and came back, heavily armed. Noir couldn't stop himself from laughing a bit at the small phantom's excitement. It really was a treat to be able to see something like this after so long, really. Some sort of emotion! That's all Noir had wanted to see for almost an entire ten years of his life.
Soon, the crowd started trickling in, filling up the stands as the other boy stood out near the middle of the field. The show was going to start soon, just the feeling in the air gave it away. Noir allowed his eyes to wander the expanse of the facility one last time. Indeed, it was magnificent. Soon, he spotted a younger boy standing by himself, draped in a large coat of some kind. It surely didn't look like his, in fact, the coat looked oddly familiar. Ah yes, of course. It belonged to a companion, the Japanese one with the blue eyes that carried a knife up his sleeve. Very interesting to see them apart. Noir gave a low whistle in the direction of the boy, trying to catch his attention. He motioned for the seat next to his as he did so. That was Tel's former client, was it not? Yes, Noir had noticed at the beginning of the party that Tel had been with that particular boy. Then the other boy came in and stole the show. Cheeky brat, the boy was. Jace
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Posted: Tue May 18, 2010 6:53 pm
Braedin • Heresy Alright, so he soon figured out that he didn’t quite care for martinis. He didn’t have much of a taste for alcohol at all, really. And who cared if he was kindofsortofslightlyunderage? This was a party! Time for fun and frivolity — and beer, which was what he ordered next. Not much better, but more to his image than a dinky martini. Beer was a man’s drink. Man drink for a manly man. And a manly man he was, minus the bunny costume. And eyeliner. And hair gel. …Maybe he was drinking too much. Whatever.
Some ladies didn’t seem to mind that he was underage, however. Some fine-lookin’ young ladies, he might add. Nope, they didn’t mind one bit. They were probably an upwards of around 27, but hey, that was cool. Hot, in fact. They were much tipsier than he was, so they’d probably be pretty easy to get in bed, but he wasn’t quite interested in that it seemed. He wasn’t sure why. Generally, if this had been any other night, he would have had no problem with picking these ladies up. Levant was still on his mind, however. He was probably at this party, or at least at the mansion. He found himself looking behind himself, looking for him. Too many costumes, though. He was sure if Levant even WAS here that he’d never recognize him offhand.
And, as with any Guilty Pleasures party, it wasn’t without its share of drama. Tel was being accosted. s**t, not a good start to a career at the Mansion. Braedin didn’t want the little guy to think that this happened on a regular basis or be, ya know… permanently scarred or anything. That would most certainly not do. This sort of reminded him of fights he used to get into when he was in school. In middle school he hadn’t really gotten the knack of defending himself, and was on the business end of a bunch of bullies. Usually the rich kid was the guy everyone wanted to be friends with, but apparently at his school it was the guy everyone wanted to beat up for being ‘arrogant’ and ‘spoiled’. Whatever. It wasn’t his fault his parents were huge successes. He’d quickly been switched into private home schooling with a tutor. His name was Shilo, but he always called him Shylock because he always seemed really secretive and cool like that.
Okay. Arguing with these assholes didn’t get you anywhere, guys. Braedin wanted to face-palm himself and go over to punch that s**t in the face, but apparently a Spartan had taken care of it. Ah, good. Didn’t want to get bloody knuckles tonight anyway. His lady friends were gasping and holding their mouths with exclamations of ‘oh my god’ and ‘oh dear, I hope he’s okay.’
“Not to worry, ladies,” he said smoothly, nodding all cool like, “our Spartan bouncer has… taken care of it…s**t.” Braedin whispered the last part to himself, since during his sentence he discovered that the Spartan savior was indeed Levant. Crap. He was really close, too. Braedin swallowed heavily and turned his back, pretending not to notice him. Immediately he roped the ladies back into conversation.
Except that that totally didn’t help. Levant was almost as naked as he was, all his muscles peeking through his Spartan armor, which looked delicious on him, by the way. And those exposed legs… This was probably the first time he considered a man’s legs sexier than a woman’s, seeing as he had two pairs of female legs right in front of him. He was so commanding and HOT. And damnit, he was starting to have a ‘problem’ again. The alcohol wasn’t helping this situation, either. No, no, no, it was cool. He had baggy pants on. They were black. It totally covered any ‘problem’ he might arise. No, don’t think about rising! That makes things worse!
Focus on something else! …Okay, naked Othello wasn’t really helping either, though the boy was kind of scrawny and petite. Not really his type. But still, exposed skin and acting all cheap. What the hell was that boy doing, anyway? Ohhh dear, he’d had a drink. Apparently he didn’t hold it well. And apparently he liked to strip when he got happy. Note to self: don’t bring Othello on boy’s weekends. Getting naked after half a beer was just not cool. It seemed his services were, once again, not needed, since Sonnen seemed to have taken care of it with his own coat. How gentlemanly. Though he’d kind of always known he was that way inside, he supposed. Probably had something to do with the requirement set by Madam Usagi to be professional at all times. Hand kissing and such. Don’t think about kissing.
Awww, Othello kissed Sonnen’s cheek. Didn’t help with not thinking about kissing, but it was still so cute. Sonnen was so stoic and serious and Othello was like ‘wheeee I love everyone’ and it was so cute. And okay, maybe he was getting a little buzzed. He usually didn’t think like this. Ohhh, you know you liked that, Sonnen. You just turned alllll red and blushy, like you haven’t been in the pants of every person at your high school. Silly Russki. No, wait, that was racist, wasn’t it? Wait… what?
Unaware was he when Levant approached him. Braedin whipped around with a forced, shaky smile, trying not to look fazed at all by Heresy’s company. Even though he totally was. He almost didn’t catch whatever it was Levant said, as he was eyeing the man’s mussed, slightly sweaty hair that had obviously been tousled intentionally in that messed-up-just-right kind of sexy way. Man. Who would have thought he could make helmet hair hot? Braedin licked his lips, a peek of a tongue ring showing briefly before focusing again on what he was saying. Ah, he was being made fun of. Levant’s casual teasing riled him up even further, and he could feel himself starting to spazz a little. His heart rate had already tripled and his knees felt like mush.
“Ahaha,” he replied awkwardly, his laugh very restrained and almost forced. “Well, apparently The Madam didn’t consider my Marilyn Manson costume to count, so it was either this or the fairy wings. Heh heh.” Be cool, be cool. To try and cool down (since he was now overheating quickly, even if he was shirtless), Braedin took a swig of beer and choked it down, almost spluttering. Yeah, that didn’t help much, since the alcohol just made him warmer. Now he sort of understood why Othello started stripping.
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Posted: Tue May 18, 2010 8:03 pm
Sonnen • Voltaire Othello was pleasantly light, Sonnen noted, though he had no doubts about that previously. He was so thin it was almost unhealthy, but he didn’t assume the boy had an eating disorder or something. Young boys just tended to be skinny sometimes. And, being partly Asian also attributed to this, he assumed; they tended to be a more petite ethnicity. Not like Russians, where the men looked like men and the women looked like men. He chuckled internally, shaking his head slightly. Not quite true, but still amusing to him sometimes. At least when he was a little buzzed off of vodka. Then most things were funny, actually.
Up closer to Davi, Sonnen could see the… certain appeal he might have, even in that ridiculous costume. He was a far cry from ugly and had a natural charm about him. Still, he thought as he tightened his hold on Othello, he was too charming. He wasn’t hiding his passive aggression at all, and he knew Davi could sense it radiating off of him in waves, hoping the other male would get the message to back off the goods. Charm or no charm, Othello was still intoxicated and not in his right mind. It would be amoral to take advantage of such a condition.
“Ahhh da, I know of you. Meester Davi, ees eet?” Of course Sonnen knew his real identity, since this man was sort of, well, famous. Though if Davi was what he chose to go by here, of course he would oblige him, seeing as he sort of worked there and all. Kind of in the job description. “Da, his card reading are… enlightening, nyet?” Probably the understatement of the day. Enlightening, horrifying, frightening, panic attack inducing, all these statements were true. A bit harsh, perhaps, but true.
Othello’s perkiness was a relief. He had been so… trampy before, almost haunting, and it was nice to have him back to normal. However, the hesitant kiss to his cheek was sort of a blow below the belt. Sonnen’s face lost all its expression as he flushed to the ends of his toes. What the hell was this? Of all the kinky, perverted things Sonnen’s done, a kiss on the cheek gets him all fired up? What the hell? It must have been the alcohol. It was playing tricks on his body.
When Othello started struggling, Sonnen instinctively loosened his grip, looking to see what was wrong only to note that little Othello was going into a panic attack. Madam going to kill him? Ah. Now the gravity of his situation sunk in. Sonnen didn’t really know what to do, other than try his best to calm the boy down. He was spewing Japanese all over the place, and Sonnen had no idea what he was saying, though it didn’t sound good. Gently, he wrapped his arms around Othello’s waist and rubbed one hand up and down his back slowly, glaring silently at Davi to make sure he didn’t do something to further upset Othello. Mocking was the last thing one needed in the midst of a panic attack. While trying to be of some consoling, Sonnen took this moment to enjoy the pleasant scent of his skin. Ahh, he loved doing this; warm, fragrant skin was the best. Oh dear, he was tearing up again. Nothing Sonnen could really do about that but hope he pulled himself together soon. Alcohol-induced panic attacks could be pretty brutal.
Sonnen, out of selection and a little bit of sympathy, wouldn’t be telling the Madam about this — and if Davi knew what was good for him, wouldn’t either. Othello hadn’t been around that long and wasn’t quite used to the ropes and whatnot, so it was natural to make mistakes along the way. Besides, Sonnen had done his fair share of stupid things whilst drunk, so he couldn’t really begrudge Othello for it.
Luckily, panic attacks ended, and Othello seemed to calm down enough so Sonnen could release his hold on him, which he did with great reluctance. The boy’s warmth was fairly welcome in the cool air. Sonnen was way past questioning his motives for acting this way towards Othello, mostly because he was tipsy. He’d probably have his own panic attack later.
‘You both sing’ was sort of an understatement, too. Davi was sort of a famous pop star and Sonnen had been trained since he was old enough to gurgle. But sure, they both sang for their supper, so they kind of had that in common. He guessed. The thought of him and Davi having anything identical kind of made him want to scrub himself with bleach and steel wool. “Ah yes, this ees true. I do not have your reputation, but I am performer as well. I am familiar vith your work.” Sonnen nodded to Davi in a vague gesture of respect for his career. Sonnen wasn’t one for fame and screaming fans, but music was definitely his passion. He could respect that, if nothing else. He still didn’t like Davi, though.
Man, it was getting cooler and cooler as the night bore on. Sonnen tried to restrain himself, but he definitely gave a lurching shiver. Without his coat he was more exposed to the elements, but he thought Othello needed it more than he did. Oooohoho, that snuggling was doing badbad things to his composure, but goodgood things for his body heat. Othello could just keep doing that that Sonnen would be just fine indeed. When his jacket was handed back to him, he was taken aback and opposed to accepting it. Though he supposed Othello was under his watch now and wouldn’t be stripping and, well… he had lots of layers with that kimono and stuff, so he slung the jacket over his shoulders, though he didn’t put his arms through it. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being called a ‘silly face’, though.
Sonnen winced his eye shut on the side of his face that Othello poked. In retaliation, a move he would never pull sober, Sonnen poked his cheek back. “Take zat,” he teased, feeling much more open and stuff with the vodka in him. He was tempted to stick his tongue out, but he wasn’t that drunk.
“Eef you are not feeling well, I could escort you back to your room?” Sonnen offered. “Maybe you’ll feel better once you eat a leetle something.” Othello’s room. Bed. Not a good thing to be thinking of right now, actually. He didn’t want to do something he’d regret, but halfway hoping he would. Augh. Life was too full of temptations. If there was a higher power out there, he was a callous b***h.
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Posted: Fri May 21, 2010 9:05 am
**Thiago**Davi**
AW THEY ARE SO CUTE! Davi's squee meter had broken after that first delicate kiss Othello planted on Sonnen's cheek. This was all very interesting from another standpoint too; Sonnen was the vampire Othello's eyes had been stalking all night. And he had run off to whisper something to him earlier, with the excuse that he wouldn't have a chance to do so later. That certainly didn't look to be the case now. And what was Sonnen's role in all this? He was overwhelmingly playing the momma bear at the moment, but Davi had a suspicion that the vamp would bed the fortune teller in a hot second. And the pop star couldn't blame him at all. Othello was adorable and innocent and trashy all at once. It was an irresistible combination, and the singer was hard pressed to deny the wanton princess what he was blatantly asking for. Present situation excepting of course. Davi really was a good, if horny, guy, and wouldn't touch Othello when he was inebriated. And it seemed as though Sonnen was here to make sure that no touching occurred anyway. The companion was politely bristling at Davi and he wished he knew a way to let the vampire know that he had only the best of intentions. He certainly didn't want to be thought of as some sort of icky predator type, and things would be much more comfortable at the mansion if they could get along. Maybe he could have a private word with Sonnen later.
"Yes, the reading was amazing," the pop star responded to both of them. But his eyes were on the boy. Poor Othello was vacillating wildly between good and bad times. Davi just wanted to give the little guy a hug, but Sonnen had the physical comfort literally in hand. Instead he just tried to reassure the boy verbally. "Don't worry ok? I've known Madame Usagi a long time now, she's not the type to get up in arms about a little drunkeness. Everyone gets tipsy sometimes, it's no big deal," he tried to assuage the fortune teller with a gentle smile. Othello switched gears again and popped out the singing trivia. He turned to Sonnen who had mentioned that he was familiar with Davi's career. Interesting that he didn't say whether or not it was something he liked. "I sing pop mostly, but I enjoy many genres of music. I'd love to hear you perform sometime," he said sincerely. He meant it, but it also didn't hurt that the comment might warm Sonnen up a bit.
Oh dear. Othello felt sick. Davi waved a server with a tray of hor d'ourves over and plucked a few choice pieces off for the fortune teller. "Here, you need something solid in your stomach," he offered. Now the vampire was talking of whisking Othello away. The client suddenly realized that he didn't like that idea. Was it because he selfishly didn't want to lose the fortune teller's company, or did he not trust Sonnen alone with the boy? Logically, if Othello wasn't feeling well then there wouldn't be any hanky panky going on. But still he was hesitant to let him go. "Perhaps staying out in the fresh air would be best," Davi suggested. "There's a chaise lounge over there," he said pointing. "You can relax there until dinner is served, you need more than these appetizers after all. It's up to you, but the party and I would hate to lose your company," the pop star continued with his most charming smile.
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Posted: Fri May 21, 2010 10:24 am
**Theodore**Tel** Tel escorted Jace to a good front row seat. He quiet as he was thinking about what the client had said about learning the violin. Jace had mentioned the violin as something that would please him, and he wasn't interested in pleasing others, but he still wanted his talents to be appreciated. The companion did not interpret this as neediness. He thought he understood what the magician was getting at. As a performer he had always enjoyed his work, even when he was alone. But alone the dancing and shooting often took on the characteristic of practice. In front of an audience he was unaware during the performance, but greatly appreciated receiving their applause and compliments after. Tel assumed that this was the appreciation Jace was speaking of.
"Perhaps I can provide some motivation for picking up the violin?" the companion offered. "Compose and piece and play it for me, and I will create a dance for it. Then we can perform together, in mutual appreciation of each other's talents," a small smile played across his lips. "I understand this may be unorthodox. I am supposed to be performing for you after all. But if the idea pleases you I would be honored to dance to your music," he promised. "If not, I will of course perform for you and we can simply enjoy each other through good conversation. I would like to hear more about your time in military school, and I find that people are typically at least a little interested in my history as a circus brat. But think on it. I'm sure you would be very talented with the violin," Tel concluded.
The stands were filling up as more guests arrived. The marksman watched the figures trailing down the jack o lantern path. He should get ready. "Please excuse me Jace, the performance will start shortly," Tel nodded to the young man and turned towards the stage. With his back to the incoming crowd he didn't notice the magician wave Ariyoshi over. The companion climbed the few steps onto the stage. He carefully laid out the rifle and pistols on the stand there for that purpose. Then the small phantom stood stock still in the middle of the stage with his head bowed. He calculated that the hat and mask would not interfere with his shooting and concentrated on the performance program sequence. Tel entered his semi meditative state. The audience could barely make out the small figure standing like a statue in the dark on the stage. They wouldn't be able to see his fingers twitching ever so slightly as his arms hung loosely at his sides. Suddenly a bright spotlight beamed down on the marksman. Just a few moments til showtime..
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Posted: Sat May 22, 2010 8:06 am
The perfect words never crossed my mind,
Cause there was nothin' in there but you.
I felt every ounce of me screaming out,
But the sound was trapped deep in me.  The blush that Sonnen had covering his face from Othello's kiss was something that the fortune teller had not expected from the seemingly ice cold Russian sitting before him. He examined the male's face checking for a fever as he watched the male and his reactions. Maybe Sonnen was a little tipsy as well. He didn't mid though, he liked seeing Sonnen a little more open about things. He looked down at his lap as his hands fell on his own hands. He liked the callous that Sonnen's hands had. Turning one of Sonnen's hands up he examined it moving his finger along the male's palm softly weaving between the callous and over the lines that laced his pretty little palm. He loved Sonnen's hands...His mind began to wander as he continued to draw pretty pictures. Hearing Sonnen bring up his cards also his eyes shined slightly, he looked towards Davi his eyes bright and almost glowing as he waited for a response from the Pop stars. He didn't know what Sonnen thought about his cards, last time they talked Sonnen was uncomfortable. He didn't know what Davi to feel uncomfortable too. He was just getting himself thinking again. That was never a good thing when it came to Othello.
As the minor freak out about the Madam occured in his brain the feeling of Sonnen's hand moving up and down his back provided a comfort that eased his posture and made him relax and the panic attack ended. Hearing Davi's words he nodded his head. The madam was like a Mother to him. He would have hated to disappoint her when she has done so much for the boy. She believed in him and that was more then most people did the for boy in a lifetime. He inhaled and exhaled calming himself down as he listened to the responses to the question he had asked. He knew it was an understatement but at the same time it wasn't is place to talk up what both of them did singing wise since he never really listened to music. HE liked Sonnen's music and no one had stolen his heart like Sonnen's piano and voice had, so as far as Davi was concerned Othello knew nothing about the man and his career. He liked Pop music though, but most of his music was either Japanese or American.
Hearing Sonnen mention the boy's career he blinked slightly, "What is your career Mr. Davi?" Othello asked now interested seeing that Sonnen knew about it, or at least enough to comment. He didn't know anything about the man he was talking with beside he was a Diva Alien named Davi who had a relationship with someone who inspired his business. Hearing that Davi sang Pop music meant that most likely he was a diva of the pop area and Othello just hadn't heard him, or heard him and didn't know it was Davi. Sighing he leaned against Sonnen snuggling his face into the male's neck as he felt the heat of the male holding him increase easing him as well. "I wanna listen too..." Othello confessed as he liked listening to Sonnen more then he liked most singers. When Sonnen would be preforming Othello would be hidden in the practice room listening like his life depended on each note.
When he was poked back, Othello was slightly surprised. He reached out and tugged on Sonnen's cheek making sure that the boy was actually his Sonnen and not some impostor. He pulled his hands back and rested them on Sonnen's again. Hearing the suggestion to go back to his room he nodded, maybe laying down would make him feel better. His stomach felt like it was being flipped around and small butterflies were flying around in it. As Davi grabbed some hor d'ouvres Othello blinked slightly More or less out of habit the boy carried his own food around. He had been around to many people that didn't cater to his vegetarian needs. He shook his head slightly not trying to be rude or anything but Othello tended to be a little more comfortable with his own food that he worked to prepare then other food in general. He was mildly paranoid about things like that. "I am alright...I have my own food with me." he said softly as he smiled. He did have to agree that he needed to get something solid in his stomach. Reaching into his little sleeve he pulled out a small wrapping with three rice balls in it.
Moving off Sonnen, Othello stood up slightly unbalanced. He sighed as he felt small waves of dizziness wash over him. Maybe fresh air would do him good. Fixing his Kimono so it was perfect again he chewed on the rice ball swallowing he sighed as he looked towards the pair at the bar. He shook his head he would stay, "I'll be fine...I just need my tea.." he mumbled as he asked for hot water and added his tea to it. It was Jasmine. Climbing back onto Sonnen Othello rested his head in the boy's neck as he fought the illness in his stomach. Sonnen smelt nice and the boy had to admit that he enjoyed the sweet scent seeping from the boy which seemed to intoxicate him. He closed his eyes calming himself down he didn’t feel as sick anymore as he wrapped his arms around Sonnen’s neck and sighed, ”I wanna make Mr. Davi happy so I wanna stay..” he admitted, he did have to say he wanted Sonnen to sleep over in his room tonight. He felt safe when he was in Sonnen’s arms. He could only hope that Sonnen felt the same.
Releasing the male he looked towards Davi and smiled, ”I’ll stay. My stomach is just bothering me…” he admitted. He reached out taking the tea and sipping it as he placed the Rice down on the counter. The bartender knew the boy was a herbivore and everyone here knew the little obsession he had with his own food, and tea. Even during his fortune telling he made his own tea. It was nothing that the people here held a grudge over or got upset by. It was just how Othello was. Nibbling on the rice he looked towards Davi, ”What do you wanna do next?” he asked as he ate like a sloppy child small pieces of rice left here and there. He pushed the rice into his mouth and swallowed re-wrapping the second and third rice ball he tucked those into his sleeve. He reached out and sipped his tea thinking for a minute he looked towards the two, ”Wanna have a slumber party?” he asked a bright smile on his face. What was Othello getting himself into!?
[(Edited, nothing major though xD )]
    There you are standing right in front of me
All this fear falls away to leave me naked,
Hold me close, cause I need you to guide me to safety.
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Posted: Sun May 23, 2010 5:19 pm
Keita/Ariyoshi Keita's meditation of watching Tel get onto the stage was broken by a crass whistle. His eyes locked quickly with the Frenchman he saw earlier and he glared hard. He'd stand and sit when and where he damned felt like it. With that he paid no mind to the older man and walked towards the stage. It seemed as if you could stand off to the side of it and watch from there but no other visitors were taking it. He stood the safe distance away from Tel and watched as light flooded the area and lit up the older boy.
It was fascinating really. He hadn't been to a gun exhibition at night so this was an interesting occurrence. He supposed it was just the timing of the party and the whim of the small gunman, but still... this was quite an exotic treat. With his costume still on, it made it seem like this was some sort of play! For a moment he looked around the sidelines. Ah! This'll be nice! off to the side of the field there were beautiful vases filled with roses of every color. He snuck off for a moment and looked through the bouquet.
"Lovely..." a beautiful blue rose was at the center of the arrangement. The lovely color was finally achieved through many years of gene manipulation. He was surprised to find something like this out in such a back corner of the manor, but it seemed like the madam was ready for anything. He nonchalantly plucked the rose without disturbing any others and hid it behind his back as he meandered back to the stage. It wasn't as if Tel would notice. As Ariyoshi looked back to the stage, he realized the Tel was in his own little world where none of the others existed.
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Posted: Tue May 25, 2010 1:13 am
Noir Louvre The shorter boy led Noir to some seats that were near the middle of the row. As the older boy sat down, he noticed that he could see everything from there. Indeed, these were wonderful seats. "Merci {Thank You}." Noir said quietly, but then repeated his words again in English. The frenchman's eyes locked back on the younger boy. His eyes widened every so slightly as the younger boy glared at him. But with a smirk, he just shook it off and looked back at the show. How immature... really, glaring? Was that boy really that angered by the fact that Noir had 'offered a seat next to his?' The defiance of a teenager. But incredibly, this made Noir want to laugh more than it angered him. He wished that he could have the freedom to actually do that to somebody that he didn't know, especially his elders. Ahh, what it must feel like to be of Asian decent. Must be better than French...
"Motivation?" Noir asked. He hadn't been motivated to do anything since he had come back from Military school. Even before then, he hadn't been very motivated to do anything. But when Tel offered to dance to an accompaniment of his own creation, Noir had to laugh just a bit. "Maybe. I could accompany you much better on the piano." The older boy said quietly, a small smile on his face. "Perhaps... I may find it in me to learn to play the violin." Noir smiled. Then Tel excused himself and began walking up on the stage.
Hm, to learn the violin... He was probably going to need someone to teach him how. Well, Noir thought with a small chuckle, I can certainly find something on the internet. There's always something on the internet. The boy though to himself with a slight smirk. How was he going to buy the violin though? Make one himself? No, that was much too much work for his lazy self. And of course, his parents wouldn't buy one for him... Hm, Noir guessed that the only shot that he really did have was to go and buy one himself by stealing some money. The thought amused him greatly. A rich frenchman... stealing money? The thought was absurd, but his parents would never notice just a few hundred dollars missing from the account, would they? Most probably not. After work tomorrow would be the best time to start.
Again, Noir scanned the arena, his eyes landing on the boy from earlier. Was that a blue rose the boy had just 'taken'? Interesting color, obviously not natural. Noir had a bush of blue roses growing somewhere in his room. However, it had taken him since he was seven to grow one perfectly blue rose. When he left for military school, one of the maids had secretly gone in every now and then and kept it healthy. Surprisingly, it was in even better condition than when he had left it. Maybe he should bring some in later on. After all, the Madam did like rare and hard to obtain objects, did she not? Naturally blue roses should be no exception. Jace
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Posted: Thu Jun 03, 2010 11:20 pm
Solera Some kid ran by in great haste. Being the curious person that he was, Dimitri took the time and energy to muster up a glance over his shoulder. Oh looky there, flames. Glorious plumes of grey smoke rose from the blazing hedgemaze. He stood there a moment, completely transfixed. Then he realized his servants were supposedly still in there. A twinge of anger shot through his dark heart. If they didn't get out alive, he'd fire them. Wait. If they didn't get out uninjured he'd fire them. Fired because of a fire. Hah!
Alas, he shrugged and continued on his path. As fun as a hedgemaze fire could be, it wasn't something that he'd never seen before. The Phantom? Yeah, the Phantom with a blazing gun should be an interesting sight to behold. Onwards he walked, with a jolly step in his stride. What could he say? The thought of finally having a reason to fire Gervas cheered him up.
The jack-o-lattern path soon ended, their light having been replaced by a multitude of much more efficient stadium lamps. But instead of having the typical field of practice for various sports and activities, there were flowers all about. Of course the Madam would have all sorts of roses at the fringes of the area. Adding womanly touches to everything seemed to be a hobby of hers. As he passed one of the many vases he swiped up a pretty little black rose in half bloom. Upon closer inspection, he could see violet hues. Not a true black rose, but pretty nonetheless. The little flower was stashed into his belt in case he encountered some ravenous zombies out to suck his blood or whatever zombies did to random knight mages stalking a well lit field.
Now, where was the majority of the people congregating? Dimitri scanned the vast area lazily. There they were. Most of them had happily settled into box seats very close to where he was standing. He must've not been paying much attention to have missed such an obvious small building being there. Right across from it, stood the Phantom looking super eager with some shiny new guns. Or were they old ones? Across from him were the targets. Some far, some not so far.
A device of some sort was behind the stage. It was like some high tech catapult. Very streamlined and all lit up like some fancy Christmas tree. Dimitri scooted closer, feeling as if he shouldn't be there. But what the hey. There were no signs prohibiting merely looking at the thing. Discs with a thick coating of chrome and reflectors at their centers were slotted in this machine. It looked like it used a combination of air compression and basic kinetics to get the discs flying. All the fancy buttons seemed like they were used to measure the speed as well as the hit accuracy. The man was attempting to figure out how this all worked when a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
There it was, a little blue flower. A little blue rose bobbing between small, easily breakable fingers. He bet they'd snap like twigs. Forgetting the launching mechanism, Dimitri casually made his way over to the owner of those delicate digits.
When he was within three feet of the short haired (Japanese?)boy, he noticed the kid looked familiar. It wasn't just having seen him amongst the commotion that had occured how many minutes ago. It was -- what the ******** -- the uniform? Dimitri had gone to so many schools as a child, both private and public, that he couldn't count all the different uniforms on both hands.
"Excuse me," the dark haired man spoke easily with a mild English accent. He was beginning to get into character now. Even this his character was Welsh, he wasn't entirely sure how to pull that off. "I am Mordred of ...of Camlann." He wasn't entirely sure where Mordred hailed from either. There were too many different variations to the story. Picking his place of death seemed like a fine enough idea.
"I was wondering if you'd like to trade your blue rose for my black one?" Dimitri smiled brilliantly as he gingerly removed the black rose from his belt. "Or if you'd prefer, may I be gifted with the blue one in return for escort service and protection? Or at the very least, entertainment," said the man with a shrug of scrawny shoulders. "I know a few tricks, if you're into that sort of thing."
If the kid was indeed smart enough to be wearing that uniform he might question why his single rose, when there were clearly so many of them all over the place. If he was smart enough to no longer need the uniform, he'd get away as quickly as possible. Dimitri kept his most disarming, innocent, smile on, as he waited the short seconds for a possibly very annoying reply. Rich kids tended to ask to be throttled. D. A. Kieva
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Posted: Fri Jun 04, 2010 10:11 am
**Theodore**Tel** It was time. Tel raised his head and gently reached out to press the start button embedded in the railing of the stage. The lights among the audience dimmed and the spotlight above him intensified. A low pale glow illuminated the nearest portion of the field as the standing targets folded into the ground. The marksman would not be using those tonight. A hush fell over the gathered crowd as the small phantom picked up the large silver revolvers. In complete silence he began his performance.
The Magnums flashed through the air. Tel was spinning and juggling the weapons in the most grand old western style. The heavy guns twirled in his hands and flew up and over, back and forth, as he flipped them around his body. The only sound was the rustling of his jacket and a rhythmic clicking as his deft hands spun the chambers of the revolvers each time they passed through his fingers. Suddenly a silver disc flashed over his head and across the field. With the left handed gun still in the air his right arm aimed the other gun and fired. The magnum roared like a cannon in the silence and the open chambers lit up with the fire of the rounds. The disc exploded with a satisfying shatter, the silver shards winking in the low light as they scattered in every direction. The guns and the youth never stopped moving. More discs flew through the air and were picked off in quick succession. As Tel continued to juggle the guns the night's silence was interrupted by each roar as the revolvers took out each of the discs. Shots were made with deadly accuracy from every angle as the marksman twisted to take shots from behind his back.
Twelve bullets later the chambers were empty. With a final flourish of the revolvers all of the lights suddenly went out. The crowd gasped as they were pitched into almost total darkness. Tel merely grinned and traded the revolvers for the laser rifle. Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture started playing through the hidden speakers in the audience seats. The marksman took a deep slow breath and raised the rifle to his shoulder. This was the most technically complex part of his performance. The companion had written the program himself and had only had a few days to practice it. At the same time he was thrilled to see his creation come to true performative life. He suddenly wished he had arranged to have the impromptu show recorded. Hopefully there were security cameras catching this.
Tel focused once more, his finger tightening around the trigger. He knew that out in the field discs were being shot into the air at different heights and distances. He couldn't see them, and the audience couldn't see anything; he had to having the timing of the disc's location perfectly memorized. As the music swelled he took his first shot. The neon green laser lanced through the night crackling through the air. The shot hit its mark and the disc exploded into a brilliantly sparkling blue shaded firework. The crowd screamed in delight, but Tel was obliviously in his zone. The green lasers arced over the landscape creating cascades of multi-colored firework explosions. The laser light/firework show boomed and lit up the night sky. Matching the music perfectly, the shots and explosions seemed to dance across the air over the field.
As the last note ended Tel lowered the rifle. Low lights came on to illuminate the stage and stands. The field lay under a blanket of smoke. The audience roared to its feet screaming and whistling their approval. The companion let the applause wash over him in waves as he bowed several times. His heart swelled in his chest with pride. There was a suspicion in his mind that one or two shots had missed, but it hadn't been obvious in the show. After a few moments he stepped off the stage but continued to stand next to it so he could receive any audience members who might want to speak to him. He didn't know it, but the youth had practically glowing.
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Posted: Fri Jun 04, 2010 11:38 am
Keita/Ariyoshi Ariyoshi's undivided attention was interrupted by the lonely mage from earlier. People randomly walking up to him like this was something he was far from accustomed to. Back home and at school he was almost revered as royalty, and people nary spoke a word to him. But his reputation would not follow him here, and, especially during a celebration of All Hallow's Eve, he was just regarded as a... normal, if not stupidly wealthy, school boy. He looked up at the mage as he introduced himself. Mordred... what an interesting choice, Ariyoshi mused to himself. Indeed, it was part of every Literature class he attended in England to study Arthurian legend and having a Mordred address him was a rare treat.
Ariyoshi took a step back and bowed deeply to Mordred and, with the faintest of English accents as well, addressed the controversial son of the King, "Sir, I but humble before you. I do not deserve to speak to one such as you." He wasn't the best at groveling, but this farce seemed fun, so he at least played along with it. "There are surely fairer roses on this vast property that would indeed do you greater justice," at that moment he wondered... was this a Companion? Or... was it a Client that mistook him for a Companion. Earlier, the mage chatted with a few other people, but mostly sat alone and drank so determining his background was a bit hard.
The show began over Mordred's shoulder and took Ariyoshi's eyes away from him for a moment. Tel's movements seemed perfectly executed and seemed perfectly natural... as if his normal state of being was twirling and precisely destroying small silver discs. A small smiled crept to his face as the crowd swooned for someone so young. He could only imagine what something like that felt like. Looking back to Mordred, Ariyoshi had a splendidly wicked idea. He took to a knee and presented the delicate bud up to him, "If it pleases my lord, I would gladly give you this rose freely without any need for compensation," he looked up at Mordred with his most sheepish, shy smile, "It would be enough that you selected my rose of all the ones present."
Someone with the presence of mind to dress as such an almost unknown figure might appreciate the heavy 'role playing' Ariyoshi was performing. At the very least, it almost felt like word pornography to speak in this way and was most enjoyable. He'd definitely have to brush up on his Arthurian Legend after this encounter. The thought on the status of this person still buzzed about the back of Ariyoshi's mind. The Companions always seemed to announce themselves very clearly when first encountered, but he was certain he saw this man talking to other Companions in the role of a Client. The man might have also had a bit of an entourage present at the beginning of the party, but Ariyoshi hadn't paid much attention to anything other than Tel, Teishi, and the drama of the other Companions through the events of the night.
This man was quite the mystery. So much so that pondering about him and 'role playing' with him caused Ariyoshi to miss the end of Tel's performance. He sighed inwardly, but was not deterred. If anything he could just ask for a private showing from Tel. For now, he would play the part of lowly commoner to mystery man's Mordred.
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Posted: Sat Jun 05, 2010 1:13 am
Noir Louvre Noir sat by quietly, watching as the show unfolded before his eyes. However, he was also still ever-scanning the perimeter of the field. That's when he noticed Ariyoshi kneeling before some young man with a black rose. Odd, Noir never in his life would have expected young Ariyoshi of all people to actually kneel before somebody else. Weren't all rich children snobbish and such? Like how the boy had acted toward Noir? That was a serious change of character, or a very well-deployed play. Noir went with the well-deployed play.
Then the show began. The flashing of the weapons were quite fast indeed and was difficult to track. Plus, Tel was going all-out shooting flying disk as he was twirling the weapons around his body. Guess this is where the contortionist in him comes out during one of these performances? And the boy's accuracy was phenomenal! Noir was only good at decapitation moving targets from six hundred yards away while still remaining hidden. But this? So this is what it meant to be an entertainer. No wonder Noir's parents wanted to disown him. The lights suddenly went out, which Noir took to be apart of the entire scheme of the evening. It was difficult to see even his own hand in front of his face! The music accompanied the show well as the laser beams played across the field and the explosion of the disk echoed in time to the music.
Then it was all over. The lights went back on and Tel was left standing in the middle of the field by himself under a blanket of lingering smoke. The crowd roared its applause, but Noir just kept seated, clapping slightly with a small smile on his face. Being shut off from the public eye, Noir never really knew how to react to something such as this. Was he supposed to stand up and scream like the rest of the people behind him? Hopefully not, since that seemed almost absurd. Well, he would ask Tel later on. But didn't the old adage go, 'Actions speak louder than words'? This was incredibly confusing.
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Posted: Wed Jun 23, 2010 6:08 pm
Levant
Levant smiled breezily when he finally caught his target's attention. Green eyes flickered down to the other man's lips. The glint of a fleeting tongue ring caused his laserbeam vision to focus and his smile to turn sultry. Jesus Christ, it'd be fantastic to get a taste of that piece of metal. Then Hershey had to speak. The sound of his voice was always comforting in a way, but that was the very thing that made him uncomfortable. As if any of that made any sense.
"I'd love to see you in fairy wings," he said with a knowing grin. "Just fai--" he cut himself off, quickly realizing how close he was leaning in and the terrible implications about to spew forth from his traitorous mouth. Maybe being this close wasn't so healthy after all. Maybe a distance of a hundred feet or so would be right. Then he'd have to call him and hear that agonizing voice...
Just as he was about to wander off, Heresy had to go and choke on beer. With a steely grip, he pried the alcoholic beverage away from what looked like an already half drunk bunny, and downed the thing in a few gulps. Levant wiped his mouth with the back of his hand grimly before sliding the mug back to Bonds. "Cut him off for the rest of the night, please." Bonds simply nodded in response, without requesting a reason. Not even a bad reason.
The brunette reddened at the silly thought of having shared an indirect kiss. Then he brought his attention back to his former objective. Friends, right. How to go about achieving such an impossible task? Wait, he was forgetting his manners! "I'm sorry. But you've had enough. You don't usually act this weird around me, more like..." he trailed off, having a hard time finding the right words. 'Obnoxious' was the first thing that had popped up, but now that friendship was the goal, he didn't want to screw things up by insulting Heresy. "Well, you always seem more at ease than this." Again, Levant was hovering at the edge of his seat, as if his body couldn't help but be drawn to the purple haired bunny. It seemed as natural as the moon revolving around the Earth, yet as possibly catastrophic as a chain of erupting volcanoes. "Is something bothering you?" asked Levant, his voice full of concern.
Before he could hear Heresy's reply, a soft, incesstant beeping resounded in his ears, and only his ears. "One moment," he pressed a tiny red button on his earpiece to accept the incoming transmission. "Yeah, that's fine. Take a look the security footage." He chuckled for a short moment. "Of course. You know I love pointing out the obvious. Do what you think it's best. I love you too, sweetheart." With another press of that same red button, the call ended.
Then to further interrupt his awkward bonding with Heresy, what was the kid's name? Ah, Teishi, that kid had to come barreling down towards him. Yay... "Yes?" he asked, without at all betraying the surge of impatience he was experiencing. Over what where? His brows rose at the boy's lack of explanation. Levant took one glance at the blazing inferno and offered nothing but a shrug. But Teishi seemed oddly distressed.
"Don't worry, they'll figure it out soon. The Master Groundskeeper and the Security Team should have everything wrapped up in a few minutes. ...Make that a few seconds." Blending in the with sound of the gunshow, someone had launched a glittering rocket into the air above the fire. About a hundred feet above the maze, the projectile bursted into a million trillion tiny pieces. Sparkling prismatic matter fell over the area like a huge flame retardant blanket. The moment the eco-friendly substance hit them, the flames went out like a lightbulb.
A small army of faeraes and Storm Troopers, and faerae Storm Troopers, marched out of the now glittering and charred maze. They surrounded the two individuals at the maze's exit. Quinn stepped out before them. "Mister Lorentz and Aya, Madam Usagi would like to have a word with you two," she spoke in a friendly, clipped manner. As if on cue, the majority of the army vanished back into the maze and elsewhere. Only two remained to stay with at the lady's side.
"Now if you would allow me to escort you both back to the mansion without a hassle, that would be simply splendid," she smiled wide, managing to look professional in her ballerina costume. If they cooperated, the group would make use of the servant's shortcut, then head towards the kitchen where the Madam would be overseeing the finishing dishes. Or at least, that's where they'd agreed to meet. At times, she was so busy, the owner of Guilty Pleasures was harder to find than a needle in a hay stack.
M. Z. Geroux
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Posted: Fri Jun 25, 2010 1:39 pm
Voltaire: Sonnen Sonnen’s head was a bit fuzzy after all the alcohol. Probably not a good idea to drink so much so fast. Though Othello was right there with him, so it couldn’t have been too bad. At least he wasn’t alone in his half-tipsy stupor. He wouldn’t let himself get drunk, though. When he got drunk he tended to get really… well, he went into heat and started kissing everyone. And rubbing against everyone. And… well, the point was, he tried not to get drunk around a lot of people. Not good for his rep.
Oh man. Davi, wanting to hear him perform? Sonnen had to admit he was a little intimidated. He usually kept his performances to Clients of his and the Madam. Of course maids and such would wander through the music room and hear snippets of him jamming out, but that was about it. He swore he sometimes felt people watching him when he was making musical magic, but he could never find them or see them. It was probably his imagination. He didn’t always remember to lock the doors before he turned on the drum-bass machine to accompany him as he shredded his guitar and screamed out all his frustrations. Sonnen had a little bit of a… rebel in him sometimes that he had to get out. He didn’t usually perform hard rock music for people, but when he was alone and frustrated, it felt good to scream it out. He also had a tendency to jump around the room and kick things over, dance, swing his hair like he was having a seizure… yeah, this was why he kept it to himself for the most part. If someone else was watching during such a moment, he might die of shame. His boyfriend in college walked in on him once, his hair a mess of red bird’s nest as he flipped it about, microphone clutched in his hand like he was strangling it, and he was sure his face was contorted into a growl as he belted out ‘Doska’. Sterling had died laughing. Sonnen had died of shame. Sex ensued. Who’d have thunk it?
So, of course, the prospect of Othello and Davi wanting to hear him sing and play his instruments was a little… uneasy. Of course he’d put together something classical or at least not angry sounding, but he’d always have the tendency to want to let out the inner rock star. And in front of a famous pop tart (‘I should really stop thinking of him like that,’ Sonnen thought), well, it was sort of… uncomfortable. Sonnen didn’t want fame and fans, but he would feel himself come up short in front of someone so widely known. He hoped Davi didn’t sincerely want to watch him. Too much to think about there.
Othello, though. Sonnen wasn’t sure how he felt about Othello watching him. Would he dislike it? Would it embarrass him? If he thought about it, he sort of saw himself trying to impress the boy with everything he had: light shows, voice synthesizers, guitar solo, something, everything that screamed talent so Othello would be impressed. Though, he wasn’t sure why he felt the NEED to impress Othello. It wasn’t like he was trying to court him or anything. Of course Othello said he liked him, and sure, Sonnen was pretty sure he felt something back, but it was too scary to delve into. At least it was when he was sober. Tipsy, well… he just kinda wanted to rip that kimono off the boy and devour him. But those thoughts weren’t helping the situation in his pants, so he tried to move into another topic.
“People like to svet and throw up on ze couches,” he told Davi when he suggested moving Othello to the chaise lounge. “Not so good. Table better.” ‘Bedroom would be even better,’ he thought dirtily, mentally slapping himself. Alright, so his reaction to the situation was more on account of not wanting Othello to get comfortable in a comfy couch with comfy Davi and leave him, because damnit, Davi was definitely trying to creep in on Othello, and it was simply not on. He was about to glare at Davi again, just for good measure, when Othello started stroking his hands. This puzzled him and made him feel like mush at the same time. It wasn’t a particular erogenous zone or anything, but someone feeling comfortable enough to just mess with his hands was almost a warming feeling. He didn’t understand the reason Othello liked to play with his hands, but hey, if it made him happy (and away from Davi), then he couldn’t be bothered to care.
His hands had calluses like a beast, he’d always thought, ever since he was a child. The stringed instruments he played had hardened the pads of the fingers on his hands so they almost felt like tanned leather. Not very attractive, of course, but when your career was a musician, it was sort of unavoidable. Otherwise, his hands were pretty smooth. He didn’t bother with lotion or anything fancy, so the texture of his hands was mostly natural. He had lots of fine lines, and he was sure Othello could read his palm like a book and tell him everything about himself again, all his darkest secrets, buried in those little fist lines. He was afraid to ask, but almost felt like he had to. Tipsy Sonnen was overly curious, even though he knew it was not in his best interest to hear it. “Do my palms say anyzing special? Feefteen keeds and a strong love life or somezing?” he joked, openly revealing his more hidden personality under the influence of the alcohol.
Othello was getting another drink. Sonnen was tempted to stop him, but then he realized he was just making tea, and backed off a bit. He found it odd that the boy carried tea and food with him at all times, but he supposed if your diet was that restricted, then it was probably necessary. Sonnen had a friend in high school who was allergic to just about everything and she had to carry around her own special-made crackers and stuff if she went anywhere. It was a little depressing. Sonnen had a taste for spicy food and wasn’t really allergic to any kind of food, but too much saturated fat gave him a stomach ache. He never quite understood vegetarianism, nor did he intend to try. Growing up Russian… well, vegetarians and vegans weren’t very common. He didn’t feel full until he’d had some meat, in fact. Of course other cultures had their norms and whatnot, and since Othello was partly Japanese he supposed it might be more common over there since they ate lots of rice and seaweed and… stuff, but in Russia, he’d never met a single one. He was sure they existed, but not in his family.
Once again, Othello just situated himself right on Sonnen’s lap, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It almost made him chuckle, and if Othello knew how he would react to this had he been anyone else then the boy might be inclined to run in the opposite direction for sitting on him, but it surprisingly didn’t bother him. His weight was pleasant and he was tipsy, so most things didn’t bother him. Othello’s face in his neck was reeeeeally making him overheated, not because of his body heat, but… well, it was turning him on, to be perfectly honest. Othello was clearly just a bit ill, but still. And now he was sniffing him. Ohhhohoho man, those little puffs of air on his neck was doing badbadbad things to his composure. He took a deep breath and took it in stride, trying to not let it affect him adversely. At least, not until he could hide himself in his room with the lights off and the music on high so he could scream as loud as he wanted to.
And now the boy wanted to have a slumber party. Sonnen looked at him incredulously, eyebrow arched. He was about to say something snarky when he noticed one little grain of rice stuck to the boy’s lower lip. His mouth immediately watered as he was tempted to lick it off. So, sooooo tempted. But he was sober enough to know it was be a badbad idea. He averted his eyes, bright red. “Ah… maybe zat not such a good idea. I am sure Davi has to leave and go back home zis evening. Maybe anozzer time, da? Ah, yes?” Of course what he meant was <******** if I’m letting that pervert inside your bedroom, much less SLEEP there. He better back the hell off before I kill everyone.” But that wouldn’t be very hospitable, now, would it?
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