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Starved for focus, the split second that door clicked open, every one of the elf's senses honed hungrily in on it, heart jolting a little in anticipation. One moment, he might as well have been alone in the world; the next, a whole assortment of people had spilled without invitation into his room, and like a startled animal his instinct was to freeze in place while the situation was assessed, not budging from his position on the floor. A young woman stood out the most, and the moment she caught sight of him, she burst out snickering.

Okay, well, he was sitting on the wall. Fair enough. Though he rather thought what one did in the privacy of their own room should be beyond reproach, thank you very much, and she could have knocked... but then again, the room was also currently sporting a shower-curtain-bed-sheet fort and some very creatively improvised toothpaste cream rinse water-color art on the vanity mirror, so he supposed fuel for amusement was plenty.

Oh. Okay, so not any of those things. She was laughing at his clothes.

Hey now.

He was definitely feeling awkward about just staring dumbly at her from the ground, by this point, and when she began apologizing, decided it was definitely time to continue this conversation right-side up. His legs unfolded easily, tucked themselves towards his chest, and then he neatly rolled to the side and straightened up to sit on his own legs, in the same movement. He still looked vaguely startled, but calmly so, and his face was only a touch warm from all the attention, slightly embarrassed but hardly offended.

"Uh. I guess I do," he admitted absently, thoughtlessly hooking a thumb under his leather collar to rub at it. He was pulling one foot up underneath him, planting a hand on his knee to climb up to his feet, and then he lifted his eyes to her. She was a little shorter, but barely. And really cute. Like, in an objective kind of way, obviously. He wasn't blind.

"I mean, I didn't pick that out myself, but uh," a sneaky little grin flickered its way rakishly across his features, dark hazel eyes twinkling with sly humor, "-- not gonna argue."

That set him back on his heels, metaphorically speaking, grin stumbling in embarrassment, startled but hardly able to feel displeased, let's be real. Fortunately he only had to struggle to work out how to respond to that for a second or so before she spared him the horror, attention already gratefully elsewhere and continuing to speak.

He opened his mouth again at her next question, huffed out a breath of a silent snicker when cut off, and waited for his next chance, a bemused little smile passing briefly, absently, across his face now that he'd recovered sufficiently, agreeable to going along with her energetic line of questioning.

"Jeez, go easy on me," he breathed with a friendly scoff, hazel eyes twinkling coyly, fingers shyly crawling up his cardigan until they could steal their way into his short pockets, arms straight and shoulders shrugged comfortable up near his ears. "This has gotta be my first real interview. So uh --"

he cringed one eye thoughtfully, calm hazel eyes dancing away a moment in consideration.

"Yeah, I'm... adaptable. I can think on my feet, I've got good instincts. I read, yeah, pictures optional and everything. And I make some mean gingersnaps."

Another short grin, a bit sneakier than the first, closer to a smirk and somehow both bolder and shyer at once.

He really did operate mostly on instincts, or he might have been held back more severely, in this exchange, by considering that he was a slave and she was looking to buy a slave, another person, to own. But so far, though definitely weird, she wasn't setting off any of his warning bells... he was just going with the flow, and right now that was definitely serving in his favor.

His eyebrows immediately struggled to both frown and lift at the same time, and did admirably well at balancing both expressions, along with a bemused, uncertain smile.

"That's... weirdly specific," he croaked slowly. "-- Aaand... you're also weirdly lucky. Like, really weirdly. 'Cause I--"

he inclined his head slightly and lifted his eyebrows to enunciate his seriousness, staring up at her with solemn eyes,

"have acted professionally."

He rocked straight and leaned back slightly, hands still wedged fast in his pockets and arms stiff, shoulders hunched up.

"Specialty in improv. Dead serious. Not even kidding."

He'd lifted one flat hand to shoulder level, sweeping it curtly out to the side with a turn of his wrist. Like the universal gesture for 'no way'.

It wasn't technically a lie. He had pretended to be somebody who he was not, and had made money off of it. Bam. Professional acting. Significant amounts of money, at that. Many, many times. And he certainly didn't work from a script. He'd been every assortment of serviceman imaginable. Postal workers, maintenance workers, janitors. He'd been waiters, valets... and yeah, he'd played 'respectable', sure, he'd attended some fancy parties, schmoozed with some rich folk. Just for fun sometimes, even. He didn't clean up half-bad.

So he was intrigued, to say the least, and keenly curious as to what kind of purpose she could possibly want him for. It had to some sort of illicit in nature, with an introduction like that, right? You didn't go slave shopping because you needed to find the perfect Puck for your local theatre's Midsummer's Night Dream performance. Or, you know-- some other example, that involved... bio-engineering and economics.

Gross. Nobody wanted to watch that play.

He let out a silent breath of a laugh at her excitement, corner of his mouth flickering out in an uncertain half smile. He shook her hand with a light squeeze, muttering under his breath, with self-consciously not-quite-shy, wry humor, "Aw, shucks."

And then everyone was hustling around his room, and she was explaining, and he awkwardly scooted a step to the side to get out of their way and watch them, hands wedging themselves back into his pockets, thumbs left out to finger the material idly.

At her comment on his clothes, he blinked, and glanced down at himself with a look of distant perplexity.

"Oh," he mouthed uncertainly, "-- yeah...? I mean-- sure."

A little bit of discomfort at that, but you know, it was just clothes, and this was... well, just another job, really. A long con. Exciting, probably illegal, weird, and obviously involving some undercover. Which meant some lying and acting, of course; that was already coming into play. He was like a... double agent, or something, kind of. Layers of deception. That sounded a bit dark, though. He felt pretty good about this, relatively. Intrigued, for sure.

He drew his gaze back up, dark hazel eyes twinkling coyly up at her through fiercely chestnut red bangs with a faux-sheepish little hint of a one-sided grin.

"Doesn't exactly scream economics major, I guess."

An awkward 'heh' at that first comment, not a ton of humor in the little twitch of a smile that forced from him. He wasn't unaware of the two brutes towering behind him, either, but he pretended they weren't there.

"Oh yeah, sorry. Tevia."

He took her hand again, for another small, brief squeeze. He met her next words with an expression of some wry humor at first, but it took on a fixed, slightly blank look as she continued, faltering uncomfortably, faintly stunned by the blatantly unpleasant warning under that sweetly sugared coat.

I would hate to see you get yourself hurt.

"Uhh," he croaked, cringing one eye in an awkward attempt at a bewildered smile, that tweaked briefly into place before faltering away, "-- okay."

And then she was all smiles again.

Spooky.

But uhhh. Fair enough, right? -- Okay, no, not. That was definitely an unpleasant little reminder of present circumstance, but he was determined to brush it aside. She wouldn't have to worry about punishing him. You only got punished if you got caught.

The young lady's back had only been turned a moment before one of the guards had given him a little shove to get him moving. Typical muscle. He cast them a frown of light complaint at what he felt was unnecessary handsiness, but was already shrugging off the wall, following after his new... mistress? Woah jeez yeah, no, that was a bit too 50 Shades for him. Employer. Brr. Almost as scary, but he could deal.

"So hey," he piped up casually, ignoring her posse to jog lightly a few steps and catch up, and fall boldly in step beside her, hands wedged deep in his short pockets, shoulders comfortably hunched.

"This uuh, acting gig you've got for me. Wanna tell me any more about that?"

The corner of his mouth tweaked in a coy, bemused smile, dark hazel eyes angled her way with not unkind intrigue as they walked. It was a comforting step-down from her, ah, higher attitude, a sort he had experience with but only impersonally, and he appreciated the slight boost it lent her approachability. He was also that much more curious, of course, but he was perfectly fine to wait.

"Yeah," he accepted lightly, casual, "sure thing."

Outside felt great. The sky looked so different, unframed and naked, massive and open, stretching over their heads, a glorious ocean of hot blue smeared with shreds of white. He could just fall into it, see the streets and builds spin on their heads, hang down from the earth-- and he didn't realize he was gaping absently, head craned back, brilliant fiery hair glowing in the sunshine like it belonged there. He wandered after them un-self-consciously, oblivious to the sprawling steps leading up to the hotel, but was unfazed by the edge of his heel slipping suddenly off the first step down, tripping fluidly back into step with all the grace of an improv dancer, without even bothering to glance down.

They might as well have been catching a bus back to her's, as little thought as he gave their course, already nearly at the car before he noticed it. He took that in stride too, slipping into the sleek interior when invited and investigating it with mild interest. He was looking for the window controls before his seatbelt, single-mindedly, childishly intent on lowering it.

"So do you live around here?" he was curious to know, without distracting from his task.

x
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It was insulting. Being put in the Common wing as if she were nothing! The vampiress had thrown a fit when she found out where she was and only the threat of the basement had calmed her down. Kasia liked the room, at least as much as she could like a prison room, and seethed quietly for a few days, sulking and only saying something when she had to eat. She could enjoy human food, but couldn't survive on it. That was when she needed blood and they refused to let her have a human to drink from - no, she had to get blood bags, like an animal. It was disgusting. Utterly dissatisfied by the place, she'd tried to figure out how to get to leave. Apparently, she could only go if someone bought her, liked her enough to bring her along. Ugh. She wouldn't hold her breath, there were far more interesting things to get here rather than just a vampire. Snarky and sarcastic to the few people who did come in, finding them boring and rude, she wasn't doing herself any favors if she really wanted to get out. But if she would be stuck with someone, as the collar seemed to force her to be unless it was removed, then she'd rather go with someone she could stomach for more than five minutes.

Honestly, Kasia wasn't even sure how long she'd been in the place. Days blended together and the room, while comfortable enough, was plain and beginning to grate on her nerves. Even books couldn't soothe her and she paced, more to get exercise and out of sheer boredom than anything else. At least she had a television, watching soap operas most of the day and feeling lethargic. Apparently they were only going to feed her when necessary and it wasn't enough for her liking, used to being able to drink whenever she wanted. Most of the time, anyway. The maid that brought her blood didn't even bother to stay, not after being dealt the sarcasm of the vampiress when she was in a rare mood.

She doubted screaming would do much more than result in the guards dragging her down the basement for misbehaving. That wasn't in her plans, so she refrained from that. Instead she took to grumbling to herself, feeling like she was going to go insane if she had no one to talk to but herself for much longer. Having never experienced much boredom in her life, always doing something, going somewhere, frightening someone, Kasia was more and more irritable, even moreso than she normally was. The chain was uncomfortable, the charms clinked together so annoyingly she had tried to rip them off, and she was hungry. Not starving, not enough to become an animal and rip someone's throat out, but a lingering want to feed, a vaguely-empty stomach that was not a pleasant feeling for anyone, human or otherwise. She'd settle for an animal at this point, though she'd only done that a few times in her life, when she had been desperate and far from any human settlements.

Watching another soap opera and lounging on the bed, propped up by pillows, Kasia didn't even bother to look when the knock came on the door. It was a guard, of course, they always gave one like that, a sharp sound, before letting someone in. "I feel like I'm in a zoo," she complained, her arms folded behind her head with her gaze on the screen.