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the snarl hung to his lips as if it were threatening to become permanent as the man, even though he'd acknowledged alston saying the drinks were his, reached forward and wrapped his fingers around the stem of a flute and lifted it from the were's tray.

grunting under his breath, his nose wrinkling a bit with the huff, the bear glared at the man through his mask as he slid the tray closer to himself. "you don't smell like a human," no, there was actually something nice about the strangers scent; something enticing; enthralling even. "but you seem to have the entitlement of one."

at the tease of his size, his hand tightened around the flute he had been holding until the thin, glass stem snapped in his hand and the flute fell from his grip and shattered into hundreds of jagged pieces at his feet. thankfully he didn't blush or he would have been.

"i need as much help as i can get to distract me from how pretentious this all is. so, yes, i was planning to drink them all. i'm a big guy, i can handle myself."

as if he needed to add to his annoyance, he couldn't snuff out the voice growing in the back of his head commenting on how attractive the man antagonizing him was; how even though he was obscured by his mask, and alston didn't know many people around here, he was still finding himself drawn to him; part of him wanted to get to know the stranger.

gods was he really this easily riled up?

"you owe me a drink," alston grumbled as he picked up another flute for himself and threw it back as if it were a shot. "or a distraction. your choice."

Wolfram is not the one to say no to parties, let alone ones with free drinks and food. Including food that aren't necessarily served on the plate. The chateau seems to be quite accommodating on that matter... He is trying to keep a low profile and not cause any ripple in town so a masquerade seemed like a perfect opportunity. Behind the guise of the enchanted mask, he prowls unhurriedly and observes the guests. There just are too many options...

He then spots a waiter near the wall, and decides to worry about stuff after a drink. Only to be stopped. Well, the waiter(?) just said those are his, nothing like 'don't drink them' or 'hands off'. So Wolfram just grabs a flute and takes a sip. Pedantic? Him? Never.

"Sorry, pal. Thought you were a waiter." He flashes a grin. Sheepishly, a descriptor that doesn't really go with him. "You weren't planning on drinking all these on your own, were you? Seems an awful lot for one man..." He says before appraising the man up and down. He shrugs, "well, you are a big guy, I guess."

he didn't necessarily mean it as a compliment-- in his eyes smelling like a human would have been an insult, but alston was simply stating that despite how the man was acting he could smell that he wasn't human. he did smell nice though. his cologne and his more natural scent paired well together but now was not the time for him to pay attention to that. "take it how you see fit." the were grumbled. "--humans have a tendency to take what they want, do what they want, say what they want, act how they want-- you get it-- simply because they are human and they assume they are in charge; on top."

there was the slightest hint of a blush, mostly hidden behind the edge of alston's mask, at the other's pout and teasing mention of the mess he made. "you did that, not me." the larger man argued under his breath much like a sullen. stubborn child would. "it's your mess."

walk away. take your drinks and just walk away. he isn't worth the frustration. alston's internal thoughts were yelling for him to leave, there was literally nothing keeping him here with this stranger, but he didn't move.

"yeah?" he questioned with mild interest, "what ideas, other than taking my drinks, do you have in mind? playful banter?" oddly, rather than questioning it or rolling his eyes, alston agreed that he needed to relax a bit more so he obediently did as he was told and unbuttoned some of his shirt, revealing more of his chest as the fabric of his shirt loosened while he took a deep breath. "bill?" the bear questioned with narrowed eyes, not sure if he should believe the other or not. "alston."

The sudden comment on his smell, not his cologne, and the mention of a human smell throw him off a little bit. Wolfram is still getting used to living in a town full of supernatural creatures like him. "I'll take that as a compliment?" He laughs, "don't know what the human entitlement is supposed to be. We talkin' about how they act like they're on top of the food chain?"

Wolf sees the glass taking a fall, but doesn't bother to catch it or make a fuss about it when it shatters. He just gives a playful pout and a frown, "aw, you made a mess." Waving off the actual waiter rushing over, he kneels down in front of the man and starts picking up the pieces, placing them on a napkin. Contrary to his sigh, he is actually enjoying this. Teasing and getting a big, burly man like this worked up? That's his favorite passtime. He is an incubus, after all, and the big guy looks like a whole damn meal.

At the demand, he looks up from where he kneels with a crooked smile. "Do I now?" He hands the waiter the shattered pieces, and stands back up. Licking his thumb which had some of the drink on it, Wolf tilts his head to the side. "I can think of a few ways to distract you. But first, how about you unbutton your shirts a little more? You seem uncomfortable, like you could use some relaxation." He suggests before going, "I'm Bill, by the way." Of course, a fake name. Thank you, magic mask.

closed starter thomas x edward

spending his morning laid out on a fence, soaking in the warmth of the sun and enjoying the peace that came with shedding his skin and taking on the form of a cat-- an orange tabby to be exact-- the familiar lazed around for hours. napping. his favorite pastime and something he considered to be a talent of his.

eventually the familiar's stomach began to growl, signaling that he was hungry. he could have easily gone home, shifted back into his normal form, and made himself something to eat... or he could have shifted back, walked into a store or any of the restaurants in alexandria to buy himself a meal... but why waste the energy when he'd noticed a garden nearby; just begging for him to help itself to the vegetables and fruits being grown.

stretching on the fence, thomas let out a quiet yawn. walking the length of the fence, he hopped up onto a single story homes roof and trotted over the tiles; the pads of his paws hardly making a sound as he seemed to prance across the surface. jumping down onto another fence, he went about half way until he saw the garden again. leaping like a graceful assassin, he landed in the lush vegetation silently; hardly disturbing the leaves as he dove between them.

sauntering around with his head held high, as if this were his own garden, the cat pawed and swatted at various vines and stems of the plants growing around him before finally settling to snack on a particularly ripe eggplant. pulling it out from the patch where it was growing, he laid out in the dirt and began soaking up the sun's rays again as he began chewing on the stolen vegetable.

within a matter of minutes, the hunter had laid claim to another two eggplants, a handful of small tomatoes, a few carrots, and some berries-- the remnants of his carnage left in a pile of stems and greens beside him.

clearly the cat was a bit of a glutton.

clearly the cat didn't realize he was caught.

@beyonddeveil

closed starter alston x casey

people made alston uncomfortable. he was able to relax, moreso, around other supernaturals because they had the tendency to understand and respect the natural world a bit more but even then-- the were-bear often looked, and felt, awkward when interacting with other people. he was better with animals... but maybe that's why his friendship with casey worked so well.

casey was the same; better with animals.

usually when alston showed up on the other's doorstep he had an injured friend from the forest, one that had learned the cruelty of humanity and was too far past alston's ability to heal or help them. this time was different. all he had in his hand was a case of beer and a bottle of whiskey.

knocking on the other's door, he took a step back and looked around; his eyes narrowing as the brightness of the sun bore down on him.

"howdy neighbor," he practiced as he waited for the other to answer their door. no. that's stupid. you haven't told him you've made the move to alexandria yet so you can't just call him neighbor. "it's been awhile friend..." that was even worse. that made him sound like a vampire, or one of those other poor bastards that lives for eternity popping up out of the blue to haunt someone they hadn't seen in centuries.

"for fuck's sake alston, just say hello..." he grumbled to himself. "it's not that hard."

@beyonddeveil

"i'm here because i was weak and acted on impulse." as much as alston hated humans and their destructive ways even he knew they couldn't be touched. killing one would bring hundreds more breathing down your neck, seeking what they blindly called justice even if that death was well deserved... and yet that's exactly what he did. he had a moment of lapsed judgement, he let his anger and frustration get the best of him, and because of the blood on his hands he didn't have a choice but to leave. he had to come here.

the were-bear tried not to pay him any attention, but the way he was looking up at alston and teasing him as he kneeled before him was having an affect on him. his clothes were starting to feel even tighter; it was starting to feel annoyingly hot. normally carston was the only one that made him react this quickly. rather than replying to the man's teasing, alston let out a heavy huff of his breath and purposefully looked off to the side-- refusing to look at the man again until he stood back up.

"you mean my drinks aren't enough?" he challenged with the slightest hint of playfulness in his tone at the mention of finding something to fill the other's pie hole with. tensing as the man crowded his personal space even more, alston's chest heaved as he took a deep breath in and held it as he felt the other's fingers fidgeting with the rest of the buttons on his shirt. "hey," he whispered, his voice a hushed growl, as two more were popped free and more of his chest was exposed as his shirt quickly opened more; his blush dipping past the safety of the edge of his mask to sit low enough on his cheeks that it would be noticeable now. "watch it."

his lips pulled back in another silent snarl at the mention of dancing. there wasn't enough alcohol in the world to make the bear want to dance with someone. especially not a stranger.

"you wish i'd ask you for a massage," he grumbled through a clenched jaw as he looked down at the other man. "poker... that's a card game right? don't you need more than two people to play that?"

"Maybe I will," Wolf says, lifting his chin slightly with a wicked smirk. To be honest, he is not entirely sure what his natural scent is like. But when people commented on how he smells, it was usually a compliment. He supposes it has to do with the incubus stuff. Wolf listens to that rant on humans, and honestly, that's the longest the big guy has spoken so far. Strong feelings. "Sounds to me," he says, taking a step closer to the big guy, "you don't get to take what you want and do what you want, when you want to." He maybe reading it completely wrong, but it just sounds like this guy is full of frustration and pent up energy. Like a bottle of soda someone shook too hard or a balloon about to burst.

A low rumble of chuckle can be heard from Wolf as he picks up the pieces. "I am cleaning it up, aren't I?" He looks up from below, an angle he purposefully chose for a possible sneak peek. "Don't worry, I'm pretty good at cleaning up messes, mine or other men's." One needs to be an expert in cleaning to survive as a mercenary, so he can clean anything from dirty sheets to dead bodies.

When he stands back up (and he waves off the waiter with a quick "thank you kindly"), Wolf is already somehow a little closer to the big guy. "Ah, yes, playful banter. My specialty, really. But we can always find something to shut up my pie hole with." He didn't actually think the big guy, Alston, would listen to his suggestion, but it's a pleasant surprise. He closes the gap between them, fiddling with the rest of Alston's buttons. He undoes one or two more and not so subtly checks out the broad chest. He does love a man with great tits.

"Alston, that's a powerful name." He remarks. No way to tell if that is his real name, but Wolf also gave a fake name so fair's a fair. Well, technically Bill is his go-to alias and it comes from his middle name so... not entirely fake. "Could go for a dance, but you don't seem like a dancing fella. I'd play a song or two but I didn't bring my instrument so... Or I could give you a massage. Or, I dunno, you play poker?"

seated at the bar, spending his night with another bottle of jack, caidence paid for his drinks with the money tucked away in yet another wallet he'd borrowed from someone in passing. it wasn't an honest way to make money but it was entertaining; at least for a moment or two-- and it made drinking easier since, technically, he always drank for free and never paid for himself.

there was some decent music playing in the background, some piano medley he didn't quite recognize, but all in all it was turning out to be a nice night. all he needed to really enjoy himself was some form of distraction.

he would do.

"self taught? i thought you sounded a bit rougher than a professional but for an amateur? it works." he answered with an easy smile as he took a sip from his glass of bourbon. "is that all you're after? just a tip?" caidence teased with a smirk; his tongue pushing against his bottom lip as he turned a bit in his seat so he could face the handsome stranger more. "if you don't have the jar, yet, then it's the least i can do." it wasn't his money after all. leaning over the counter, he waved over the bartender and told him to add whatever the man with him ordered to his tab.

LOCATION: A local bar MUSE: Wolfram Wagner STATUS: Open | @unveilstarters

Wolfram technically didn't lie when he introduced himself as an aspiring musician. He does know how to play more than a few instruments. Especially piano, he had all the time in the world to practice. He is nowhere close to a professional, classically trained pianist, but he is pretty good for an amateur if he says so himself. It took a bit to find a place with a piano, but he did manage to convince the owner to let him play.

After he finishes the last song, a quirky and upbeat tune he picked up while traveling, Wolfram saunters over to the bar. Getting a free drink as per the deal with the bar, he downs his cold beer. "Not bad for a self-taught, huh?" He asks the other patron next to him at the bar before flashing a cheeky grin. "I don't have a jar yet. So if you wanna tip me, you can just buy me a drink."

eoghan had only been here for a month but he was already in love with alexandria. he didn't have to hide or look over his shoulder to make sure some scorned woman wasn't chasing after him for seducing her husband or to make sure some misguided hunter wasn't trying to make a trophy of his head. alexandria was paradise. it was his metaphorical eden.

with everything alexandria had to offer the last thing he expected to come across was an old friend of his-- an old haunt that used to keep his bed warm on occasion. wolfram was a damn good lay and immensely fun to party with, and destroy relationships with. he should have been in a big city somewhere breaking hearts and ruining lives, not panhandling here in this little corner of sanctuary.

"alexandria must be too peaceful if the fates thought it would be a good idea to put us both here at the same time," he teased as he stretched out his arms to pull wolfram into a hug; his arms tightening around the man for a moment, constricting him, before releasing him again. "it's been too long. i found my way here about a month ago; angered one too many witches and, well, needed a place to lay low for awhile. what about you? why are you here? run out of homes to wreck?"

LOCATION: Streets MUSE: Wolfram Wagner STATUS: Closed | @unveiledvagabonds

Wolfram isn't busy these days. He has enough money in his offshore account so he doesn't need to do an honest day's work for the rest of his life. But he needs work to keep himself from going crazy. And there's only so many meaningless sex he can have to distract himself.

So lately, Wolf has been just prowling the streets of Alexandria with his fiddle. He'd make random stops, play a tune and move on. Sometimes people would listen, film it with their phones, toss a coin or whatever. Most just gives passing glances and ignores but Wolf doesn't mind. It's been pretty entertaining, and relaxing? This is the laziest he has been in decades so he is making the most of it.

He finishes his current piece, and notices someone stopping in front of him. He was going to ask for tips, but instead a name blurts out of him. "Eoghan?" He lowers his violin and grins, "small world! Didn't know you were in this town. How you been?"

"it wasn't an insult." caidence answered plainly. "some of us like a little roughness." he mused. taking another nursing sip of his drink, his lips pulled into a smirk against the rim of his glass, he kept his eyes on the man with him as a few people moved around them. despite the man's confidence, and the fact he'd just played music live, caidence seemed to be the only one really giving him any attention at the moment. good. that meant he had the man to himself. for now, anyway. "hey, just a tip is doable-- and it's my pleasure. you aren't asking for much," he teased, his tongue pushing against his bottom lip as the corners of his mouth lifted into another smirk. "i knew a musician, once, that liked asking me to give him head after he performed; something about he deserved to feel good after making everyone else feel good by playing for them..."

"...but if you're easy to please and only need a drink then, please, order whatever you'd like and however many you'd like as well." he did furrow his brow when the man before him ordered a cheap bourbon but he didn't think much of it. maybe he was being polite since he thought the money was caidence's own. maybe he just wanted to get drunk quick and didn't bother himself with taste. maybe he just liked cheap bourbon. as long as he didn't take the drink and saunter away from him, caidence didn't care what he ordered.

"ah, no." he answered with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "rather i haven't lived here long enough to consider myself a regular, i don't think, but i do come here a lot. maybe that should count? what do you think?"

"I'll take that as a compliment," Wolf shrugs, "what can I say, back in my days I couldn't pay for no teach, no piano, so I just taught myself." He then downs the half of his beer. He supposes he did want to learn music when he was young, but instruments were expensive. It took him decades to be in a place to actually learn how to play anything. It's a fun hobby. And sometimes, he gets a free drink for it so that's a win for him. "Just a tip." Wolf repeats with a cackle. "Wouldn't say no to a round of applause and praises though. I'm easy to please like that." He finishes his current drink with a few more gulps and orders a cheap bourbon. The bartender gives him a look for it, but hey, he grew up poor, drinking trashy drinks, so he craves trashy drinks sometimes.

"So at the risk of soundin' like I'm using a line, you come here often?" He asks tapping at the bar rhythmically. "Actually asking 'cause it's my first time here and, if you're a regular, I now know who'd buy me a free drink for a song."

"of course you would think that. like i said originally, you don't smell like a human but you seem to have the entitlement of one." now, in alston's mind there was nothing wrong with being disciplined and having a set of codes he lived by-- in fact, you could argue that he had a set of codes he thought the world should live by that only led to his bitter disappointment because no one else seemed to understand-- but despite thinking there was nothing wrong with how he led his life something told him now wasn't the time to defend himself. this man would only twist it back on him.

something stronger, harder. "is everything a joke to you?" while everything about alston's posture and tension in his features hinted at him being annoyed with the other man, there was a glint of something in his eyes-- maybe amusement, maybe attraction, just... something-- that hinted at him enjoying whatever the hell they were doing; that hinted at him enjoying the other's obnoxious presence.

the color stayed on his cheeks at the mention of the other leaving his belt alone before calling his attention to how underdressed some people were around them. "well, if it's so welcomed here then why don't you unbutton some buttons." he tried to make himself sound disinterested but there was no hiding the way his eyes cut over to watch; just in case.

"i don't like when people beg," he mumbled with a shrug of his shoulders. alston might not have liked when people begged him for things but he'd be lying if he said there weren't men, or one in particular, that had a knack for making him beg; and he'd be lying if he said he didn't, at times, enjoy it. "wait-- you offered a card game as a distraction and you don't even have cards on you? why make an offer if you don't have the intention, or ability, to follow through with it? are you always this frustrating?" the bear grumbled with annoyance. grabbing another drink from his tray, he threw it back and swallowed it like a shot before turning his attention back to bill and the coin he was now holding.

"i have a feeling this is just another trick of some kind but... why not. let's see what you can do." alston answered with a nod, accepting the man's offer of some magic tricks.

Wolf purses his lips and goes, "yeah, but impulse is fun. Or are you one of those discipline and codes kinda men?" There is no disdain in his tone, more so relish and hunger. Corrupting men like that is always fun. "Well, I dunno what kinda baggage you got but you're here, so... might as well try to enjoy yourself? Make the best of it?" At least that is how Wolf lives his life.

The tip of his lips rests playfully between his teeth. He grins as Alston throws back the banter. "I usually prefer something stronger, harder..." a deliberate pause, long enough to wonder as he slowly unbuttons the shirts, "than champagne. I'm more a bourbon kinda guy." He laughs lightly, drinking up every detail of that blush beneath the mask. He loves it when they squirm, or more importantly, making them squirm. "Oh, I am watching it. And hey, not like I undid your belt." He shrugs, but does let go of the fabric. He likes toying with men, but he doesn't want to get punched in the face or worse, mauled. "Look around, a little show of skin isn't going to hurt anyone." Wolf gestures toward some of the waiters wearing nothing but their underwear.

He tilts his head to the side, chuckling. "So are you gonna ask nicely? Or you rather have me beg for it?" Unfortunately for Alston, Wolfram Wagner doesn't have a sense of shame or dignity. Pawned those off centuries ago. "I mean, self-dealing is a thing. There are other cards we can play, but I don't even have a deck on me. Could ask the waiters?" That takes way too many steps, though, so he just waves off the idea. "What else, hmm. You wanna see some magic trick?" He suggests as he fishes out a quarter from his pocket.

a visible wave of relief washed over the were as the door opened. it was still chained shut so he couldn't see casey fully but he was answering him and that was enough. all those undermining voices in the back of his head telling him the man wasn't going to see him were rightfully silenced. taking a deep breath, his posture softening and loosening to show that he was already comfortable around the other, the features of his face betrayed him and tightened as alston realized this was the first time he'd ever come around without a wounded animal in his arms; without needing help of some kind.

"everything's fine," he blurted out quickly, the words feeling rushed and uncertain as his lips pulled into a forced and uncomfortable smile. "well, i didn't bring anyone with me at least." things were hardly fine. his home had burned, so many had been lost, and he was on the run... but that was hardly a conversation to have on someone's doorstep after not seeing them for-- what had it been now, months? a year? why was it so hard for him to keep track of time.

"beer." alston stated plainly as he held up the six pack in his hand, followed by lifting the bottle of whiskey to show them to casey as if the man couldn't clearly see him holding them. "i came to offer you some beer, or some whiskey? i wasn't sure what you liked..."

"oh, and to let you know that i've relocated to live here in alexandria and say hello... so... hello?"

yeah. you're killing it alston. definitely not awkward at all.

As a chronic misanthrope, Casey lives on his own on the edge of town, away from the bustle and hustle. Some peace and quiet, that is all he wants in life, really. Though compared to other nigh-immortal creatures his kind doesn't live that long but still, Casey feels like he has lived long enough to act like a grumpy old man. And he doesn't need parties or going out so this place suits him.

Naturally, it's quite unusual someone knocks on his door. It is clearly stated on his 'no soliciting' sign at the gate... But Casey is unfortunately not callous and impolite enough to simply not answer the door. What if someone's car broke down or has medical emergency? Grumbling, he drags himself to the door. Instead of fully opening the door, he cracks it open with the chain on and checks outside. "...Alston?"

He hasn't seen the werebear in... how many years, or months? He can't even remember (his sense of time is all over the place, sort of). He closes the door to unchain, and greets his old... client? Acquaintance? Friend? He is not sure. "Hey, it's been a while. So where's the patient?" Out of habit his eyes turn to Alston's hands. Usually, Alston brings injured animals. Not seeing any blood, fur or feathers, he looks back up at the other's face. "Everything okay?"

squeaking and hissing as he was unceremoniously grabbed by the scruff of his neck and pulled from the pile of scraps his snacking had left behind, the familiar's body stretched out as if the cat were made of putty as some man-- most likely the one that owned this garden-- hoisted him into the air to berate him.

cocking his head to the side, the orange cat stared at the man's face with deep, wide eyes as he seemed to be so angry he couldn't even think of what to call him; he couldn't even think of what he was. cat. the answer should have been obvious. were his vegetables some prized possession of his? had thomas unwittingly devoured, and destroyed, his life's work? is that why he couldn't think straight enough to call the familiar what he was?

meowing in protest as the man threatened to eat him-- which thomas hoped was a joke-- the cat squirmed a bit in the man's hold in an attempt to get away; but the stranger had a decent grip on him. he could have clawed him in the face, or reached up and clawed at his arm, to make the man drop him but he'd already done enough damage so instead he stretched out his right paw and gently let the pads of it press against the man's noise as he began meowing sweetly; softly.

if the man would just put him down he could explain.

Every day, Ed wakes up early in the morning, laments the fact that this body he is stuck in requires periodic sleep, makes breakfast for his kid and goes for jogging. Not that mere running counts as actual exercise for a hellhound, but that's just what humans do... he thinks. After the run, he tends to the garden and greenhouse. Ed tells himself he doesn't enjoy gardening– it's a means to an end, a human disguise because humans need to work, or something along that line– but there is something comforting about being in the garden. Growing your own food, that was a foreign concept to him once. But now, it's quite fulfilling. Not that he'd openly admit that.

Today when he walks into the backyard of the shop, however, Ed finds a scene of massacre. Eggplants, whatever the red round fruit thingies, root vegetables... dug up and eaten. If he was capable of emoting, he would've fallen to his knees and screamed 'NOOOO' to the sky (Ed once saw a 'movie' where a man does that). No, he simply stews in his white hot rage, almost snapping a broom unfortunate enough to be in his hands right now.

Ed sniffs at the air, searching for the sign of intruders. Picking up a scent but not seeing anyone in the garden, he strides toward the source of the smell. And then he finds it, one of those little creatures that like to purr. "You." He calls out, and in one fell swoop, he grabs it by the scruff of the neck and picks it up. He can smell the vegetables on it...

Holding it up to his face, Ed narrows his eyes and snarls. "Thieving little... what are your kind called? You... furry soft animal." He can't remember the name for these creatures. Something with a kh sound? "You ate my plants. Maybe I should eat you for lunch." He wonders for a moment if it's edible, or more importantly, if it's edible or digestible for humans. How is he supposed to cook this anyway?

"mornin'," keagan repeats back with a lazy lift of his mug as if he were on autopilot. closing his eyes for a moment, the witch takes a few deep breaths to try and center himself and help the pounding in his head subside a bit before he peels them open again to glance over at the man joining him. how was he in such a good mood this early in the morning?

rising from his seat at the island, keagan trudges over to gather a fresh mug for his guest and begins pouring him coffee when something he said made the witch pause. generosity is the mark of a good kind; good he'd keep the shirt then. right. last night keagan had called him your higness a few times in the heat of the moment, among other things, but he didn't know what he was actually supposed to call him. the most he knew about royalty and politics was diana's iconic revenge dress and the plot of princess diaries.

"so," he asked with a grunt as he finished pouring the other a cup of coffee. "what exactly am i supposed to call you now? your highness? prince ricardo? rico?" it might have seemed like a silly question to ask but after last night? "i'm fine with whatever you want, but your highness feels a bit formal after i swallowed your load in a bar bathroom before even getting you back here." keagan pointed out bluntly.

"here," he added on, nonchalantly changing the subject, as he slowly walked over to hand rico his coffee. "did you want me to add cream and sugar? i should have some around here somewhere..."

Rico wakes up disoriented and wonders where in the fresh hell he is. The bed is definitely not his. The sheets are not as soft and don't smell like they usually do. And then he slowly starts to remember that he sneaked out again, met a man at a bar and well, one thing led to another and they ended up here. His retainer is not going to be happy...

He crawls out of the bed and walks out of the room wearing nothing but his underwear. "Good morning, my friend!" He greets jovially and immediately notices his shirts on Keagan. "Oh, no worries. Generosity is the mark of a good king." He laughs, "and after the night we had, I believe you have earned more than my shirts." Not that he had shortage on getting lovers back at the castle, there is something exciting about finding someone 'at a bar' and 'hitting it off' just like in the movies or TV shows. Or using one of those 'applications'. So convenient.

"Yes, I shall have coffee." Rico remembers the peasant manners and adds, "thank you." He then starts looking for his 'phone' so he can 'text' his retainer.

that was not an attack. if thomas had wanted to maul the other's face he very obviously would have. no, if anything he was trying to diffuse the tension between them but that clearly didn't work as he started meowing and mewling with concern as the man carted him off to his shed and placed him under a bucket. a bucket. like he was some kind of cockroach or home invader that needed to be scooped up and discarded of.

shifting back, the bucket lifted off the counter and awkward sat on thomas's head for a moment like an over-sized party hat before falling to clatter on the ground of the shed; leaving him sitting there, completely naked. quickly covering himself with his hands, his posture showed signs of stress and tension as he looked up at the other man as if he were crazy.

"are you mad? you were going to kill me for, like, what-- two eggplants?" thomas knew he had eaten much more than that. they both did. "--and, for the record, i wasn't trying to attack you. i was being cute. i made my eyes big and everything before booping you on the nose. come on man. everyone loves getting booped."

"can we just-- can we talk about this at least? you know, without anyone dying? i mean, talk about a mood killer. i haven't even had lunch yet..." he hadn't had lunch yet but he was in this mess because he'd just been caught having his breakfast.

Ed vaguely recalls humans don't eat feathers so by the same logic, they won't eat this one's orange fur. He does have those... machine... thingy that cuts his hair so that should work. A paw touching his nose cuts through his thoughts, and Ed looks back at the creature with no discernible expression. It makes a sound. Probably begging for mercy. "That is the most pathetic attack I've ever seen, creature." He says flatly. "The only mercy you will get is a swift death. I shall make it painless."

He carries the animal to the shed, thinking he should have a tool for the butchering. Closing the door, he puts down the creature on the workbench and... well, he can't just let it run around the shed. He grabs a bucket and puts the animal in it. As if it wouldn't jump out. He then starts looking for an appropriate tool.

But for a second, Ed stops and thinks (something he doesn't do often). Ever since he moved to... this town, whatever it's name was, his supernatural sense has been going wild. He sort of learned to ignore it. Right now, it is going off again and Ed slowly turns around to look at the animal. Questioningly.

"it's not a disguise," he argued with furrowed brows and a dismissive shake of his head. "okay, well, technically i guess it is a disguise but that makes it sound like i was trying to purposefully hide who i am. this is me, but so is-- it's-- you know, the cat is just another part of me." he was doing a horrible job explaining himself. "either way, don't you think this is all a bit dramatic?"

right. it's not like thomas had broken into this man's garden, made a mess of his hard work and reaped the benefits of it for himself, left behind a miniature massacre of vegetation and fruits, and then attacked the man when cornered. though he was still going to argue that he wasn't trying to attack him, that was very clearly a nose boop and everyone loved those.

"oh my gods, dude, how do you not know what a boop is? everyone literally loves them. people go crazy when cute, fuzzy little animal's of any kind let them boop them on the nose-- wait." in that moment it hit thomas. this man was... something. he couldn't exactly smell it now that he'd reverted back to his human form, but when he was shifted into his tabby cat self he picked up hints of something supernatural but he just assumed that was because of where they were. it was all adding up now, though; not knowing what a cat was, not knowing what everything thomas had eaten was called, not liking or knowing about boops. this man wasn't human. he was something else. something more... removed.

"what are you, dude? that's, like, the second time you've made a reference to what human's do?"

"wait, hold on, what? eat me? did you just-- did you just say you were considering eating me? whoa..." thomas questioned, his attention span struggling to keep up; one minute he was looking at the man holding a shovel and a pair of shears and the next he was leaning back on the bench and swallowing his breath hard as the other crowded in front of him, cornering thomas on the bench.

"uh, hi... are we about to kiss right now?" he joked, weakly, in an attempt to diffuse the obvious tension between them. "okay, okay. no. you're right. i... i was in the wrong. i am in the wrong. assuming saying sorry isn't going to be enough here, what can i do to make it up to you?"

Holding a pair of garden shears in one hand and a shovel in another, Ed watches as the creature turns into a human. A subtle frown settles in. He doesn't remember those creatures being able to turn into humans... "I didn't know those furry things can disguise as humans or... talk." He says, still convinced that the furry creature is the true form. Tilting his head to the side, Ed just blurts out, "I am not mad. Humans hunt other animals."

Hunting something that looks like a human is probably not a good idea... so he lowers his tools. For now. "Not just eggplants. You also ate... whatsitcalled, the red berries." He just knows how to grow plants, not their names. "And I don't understand how that's cute or helpful. Or what boop is." Saying that flatly, he studies the now-look-like-human-creature. Maybe it is not a human after all. If it's a supernatural creature, than it's not food. He knows that much.

"We are talking." Ed points out. "I'm not going to kill you. That'd be too messy and you're too big for lunch." Deciding that, he puts down the shears and shovel. He then walks up to and corners the creature. "You still ruined my garden. Stole from me. My plants. And I don't like thieves. I used to punish thieves and debtors. So you are at my mercy."

"if it's any solace, you aren't the first to have screamed something to that affect with me though it has been centuries since it happened last," draekov teased. pushing himself up to sit on the bed, wiping some of the sweat from his face before nonchalantly trailing his finger through the remnants of andy's orgasm on his chest. licking it from his finger, he then looked back over at the other man with a smirk as he made no effort to cover himself; he had been alive for too long to be restrained by modesty.

"remind me what your name was," he licked his lips as he watched the man begin moving to assumedly find his clothes. "i'm not sure half the things i called you would be considered polite depending on whose around," he teased, "and it's been awhile since i've found someone able to keep up with me. speaking of, you're not planning to leave already are you?"

anyone else might have been drained from such a rough, hard session like what had just transpired between the two of them but the vampire had just freshly fed before finding andy to distract himself with. long story short, the vampire still had plenty of energy left. "you young things are always in such a hurry," he joked. "what? you aren't going to offer to at least try and return the favor?" reaching over, draekov loosely gripped onto andy's wrist and gently pulled on him in an attempt to get him closer; and to stop him from gathering his clothes. "if you're more of a-- how do you young things say it? a pillow princess? if you're more of a pillow princess, that's alright too. this time, instead of making you scream thank you, i can fuck you until you can't even stand let alone get back to work. either way, pet, stay. we still have plenty of time to have some fun."

Working at the Red Death has been... interesting, to say the least. The clientele seems to have very specific, shared kinks. Lots of Twilight fans, lots of roleplaying... Maybe there's some kind of a group thing here, who knows. But Andy didn't care; it was good money and it's a good place to find a hook up after work. The private rooms are so much better than fucking in the bathroom or back alley or parking lot, or going all the way back to either of their places.

This guy definitely caught his eyes at the club and it didn't take that much, neither time nor convincing, before they were fucking. Andy jerks himself to climax with one hand and teasing and caressing the man's nipple. All the while his ass is working overtime taking the intense fucking. It's impossible to contain himself when he explodes all over that broad chest. He can't even remember what he said during that.

"I might have... screamed something like that." Andy admits, grinning like an idiot before collapsing on top of the man. "You fucked my brain out so I'm not liable for what came out of my mouth. That was, a lot." He just lies there for a moment and catches his breath.

He slowly rolls over to the side and lies there for a second. "But hey, thank you. I needed that after the day I had." His shift was long and tedious, and someone spilled their drinks on him. He sits back up and starts looking for his shirts.

"well, we can't disappoint the fates now can we?" he laughed as his lips pulled into a wide smile. almost as if he was proud of what he said next. "you know, funny thing about witches. they didn't mind me threatening a plague of snakes on them if they didn't leave me alone but the second i threatened-- well, offered really-- to fuck all of their husbands for them suddenly i am worse than a devil itself. they tried to cut me head off and encase me in silver as if i were some macabre statue." the fact he was laughing as he explained most of what he was hiding from gave a bit of a glimpse into the gorgon's mind. "really? poor choice of words wolf, i am a living curse, but i appreciate your concern. it almost makes you even more charming than usual."

"so that's the angle you're playing here?" eoghan questioned with a cocked brow and an amused grin. "a man finally chasing his dreams of being a musician? you're going to break many hearts here... and i can't wait to watch. you certainly have the talent for it." whether he was implying that wolfram had the talent for music or the talent for breaking hearts was left up to self interpretation; he could have also meant both.

"for you? i have all the time in the world. it's been too long since i've seen you last wolf. let's save the pleasantries for people that need them and skip to the good part. we can always drink together after we're done."

Wolf returns the hug, patting the other in the back. He knew Alexandria was a town full of supernatural folks, but didn't expect he'd run into his old friend. (Note to self, past enemies could also be here.) And Eoghan is one of the few he can actually call a friend. They fucked, hung out together and the man hasn't tried to kill him yet so that counts as a good friend to Wolf. Beside, they share the kindled interest of seducing men for sport.

"Obviously, the fates wanted us here so we can fuck some sense into them." He cackles. "Funny coincidence, been here for a month or so myself. Hope you didn't get cursed or got your cute little ass burnt." Laying low sounds very familiar but Wolf is far too shady to admit that directly. "Well, I've decided to pursue my old dream of being a musician." He plays a quick lick on his fiddle, before giving a dramatic bow. "And please, there's always a plenty of homes to wreck. No one's safe."

He starts packing away the violin and looks up. "So, you busy right now? I ain't got a place to be so we could go for a drink or skip the pleasantries and get down to fuckeries. Like old times?"

"huh? oh, no. if anything i wound up sleeping a bit better than usual because of last night; because of you..." keagan explained with a halfhearted smile. "sleep is just something that's always alluded me. which is funny when you consider the facts." mainly the fact that he was a witch and even when he turned to spells or potions he never managed to feel fully rested no matter how long he slept. maybe he was cursed to always be tired; or maybe it had something to do with his caffeine codependency. "unless you have some trick stronger than my own magic to make me feel rested, no." he answered with a matter-of-fact nod of his head and loose shrug of his shoulders. "--but it's fine, really. i'll be alright. that's what coffee is for."

"got it, i'll do my best to remember you actually deserve a title in public but for now i'll just stick with rico." he teased slightly, more of his personality starting to return to the surface as he consumed more and more coffee. "yeah, unfortunately i'm not really known for being much of a gentleman," keagan joked at his own expense, "so you should definitely take my number if you ever feel like enjoying some... unbecoming company again."

"shit," the witch cursed as he furrowed his brows, his right hand lifting to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "i didn't even consider the fact you probably don't drink coffee on the regular-- or at all for that matter." can he even drink coffee? keagan didn't know much about vampires aside from what he'd read in a few grimoires and the few he had crossed paths with in his life-- and shockingly enough, none of those sources every breached the topic of what he should offer for breakfast the morning after.

"uh, everybody is different but most people put a couple spoons of sugar and some milk to cool it off and sweeten it up since coffee can be very bitter on it's own. i, on the other hand, prefer it that way..."

"I'm sorry to hear you didn't sleep well! Was it because of me?" Rico asks with a sad frown. To be fair, this is one of the few times he woke up later than his attendant. They usually suffer from exhaustion and blood loss. And Rico has to remind himself that he is not in his kingdom. People here are not his royal subjects. The whole point of this little picnic of his is to experience the world outside. And catch thieves, if it comes to that. "Anything I can do to help?" He offers, fascinated by the kitchen and coffee machine and everything in between.

His attention snaps back to Keagan and the question. "Oh, forget formality. This isn't the court and we're not even in public. In private, you can just call me Ricardo or Rico, either way works. In official capacity, though, your highness or Prince Ricardo should suffice." He grins at the mention of last night, "it was a bit unbecoming of a gentleman to... fornicate in the bathroom but it was exciting, I must say."

He takes the mug, clearly excited to try the coffee. "Thank you. What do you... regular people put in your coffee? I cannot say I've actually had homebrewed coffee."