#enrico1

[bloodsoakedwhiskers]

He huffed a dry laugh at his words but nodded in agreement, "I hate to say it, but you're definitely right," He gave a light shake of his head in disapproval, lots of things he felt like he could add on to but he wouldn't. Ric definitely didn't want to hear his opinions on vampires and slavery and everything in-between. He described Cyril with such sincerity, 'handsome' ringing in his ears more than anything. It was rare to hear it said without condescension, he mainly got 'pretty' just because it was used to belittle him. "Oh," He cleared his throat, gaze lowering to the ground to try and hide the attempts to bite back a bashful smile, "Well.. it's nice to hear that you think that about me." Boldness was not his strong suit, and he wasn't necessarily being direct or flirty, but the intent was there.

"I can't make any promises, but i'll try not to worry about you," He replied, though it was a straight up lie. He already worried about the slaves in general, but now? Knowing there was one as sweet and kind and genuine as this one? It would be inevitable. Maybe now he'd have a reason to force himself into the Undercroft, just to spend some of that old bastard's money to give Ric some freedom.

He felt a wave of relief when the kresnik reassured him that he was fine with spending time with him, it seemed Cyril worried far too much about forcing himself onto other's, especially those he felt a terrible power imbalance with with those collars. "I would be happy to spend my time with you as well, yeah," He assured, unable to stop the wide smile, a real and fully genuine one as Ric pointed out how they both were walking on eggshells worried about the other. He chuckled a bit nervously, scratching the back of his neck, shaking his head. "Clothes will remain on, I can promise that," He swallowed, pushing back any thoughts that dared imagine otherwise. His eyes landed on the hand outstretched to him, and he felt his heart pick up in speed. He wanted to hold his hand. Cyril hesitated, knew deep down Ric had no bad intentions, he couldn't possibly, the shifter was sure of that. Still, his anxiety gnawed at the back of his mind. Finally, after a long moment, he reached down and took his hand, entwining their fingers and ignoring the way it made goosebumps shoot up his arms and fight back against the way his body wanted to tense and pull away. "I would like that," He said, more quietly, voice a little strained, but he was determined to push through. Carefully he began to lead Ric through the crowd and towards the nearest open doors to the gardens, pacing himself so he didn't get too out of step with him despite the way his legs demanded such long strides from his height.

“You know, Cyril, somehow, I doubt that you and I having fun tonight is anywhere near the top of their priority list.” he muttered through his teeth, a forcedly bright smile on his face and a hint of amusement in his voice. He shot him a conspiratorial glance for just a moment before lowering his eyes to the floor when the taller man – damn him – asked what he had meant by ‘someone like you.’ Ric thought that if a chasm opened beneath his feet and swallowed him straight into the center of the earth, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. And yet, his heart did a little somersault when he noticed Cyril had slightly straightened his shoulders. Ric found it strangely adorable.“Yes, well, you know… Tall, mysterious, handsome…” he mumbled, his voice almost dying on the last word. And still, he couldn’t help but smile a little, even though he wasn’t sure why. The kresnik had always been uncomfortable around people he found attractive, and Cyril was no exception. But there was something else about him, something that stirred in the Italian a feeling that managed to override his awkwardness—a sense of familiarity and kinship he couldn’t quite place.

“Oh, thank you, but don’t worry about me. It’s not a tragedy. It’s not like I was doing much better as a free man. And maybe… someone like me is exactly where they’re supposed to be, in a place like this. There’s just too much suffering within these walls, and maybe it’s my duty to try and take some of that away. I don’t know if I’ll be able to, but I have to at least try,” he said, his voice calm and gentle. His cheeks were still slightly flushed, but talking about the mission he had given himself made his eyes shine.His father saw him as an abomination, but he was still, in part, a kindness-driven celestial. The desire to help others was rooted in him just as deeply as his magic.He laughed openly when Cyril asked if he really wanted to spend his time with him.

“Gods, please do not worry about my time. I’m genuinely happy to spend it with you, if you want the same!” he exclaimed, amused, fixing his emerald gaze on Cyril’s face. There was something sad and subdued in his expression, something that, strangely, emboldened Ric. He had the distinct urge to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay. “You know, I’m starting to notice a pattern in this conversation. If you worry too much about what I want, and I worry too much about what you want, I don’t think we’ll make it to the garden before dawn. So how about we make a deal?” he said, gently but with a firmness he hadn’t possessed until just a few moments before. “If you want to do something with me, just do it and assume I’ll be more than okay with it, and I’ll do the same. If boundaries are crossed, we’ll let each other know and we’ll fix it immediately. What do you think? Just… please keep your clothes on.” He laughed, extending his hand toward Cyril and leaving it suspended between them. However, the angle of his arm made his intentions clear: he didn’t want to shake the shifter’s hand—he wanted to hold it. “So, would you like to come to the gardens with me, Cyril?”

[thebloodofbriar]

@theguardianofembrace

Briar had seen him before, had introduced himself when the new slave had arrived. He honestly hadn't wanted him to feel alone like the fae had, even if he didn't know the circumstances of how he ended up here. He seemed nice, though Briar had anticipated that when he figured out he was half celestial. All the celestials he had met had been nothing but kind, offering him friendship when he needed it most. He wanted to make sure someone gave Enrico that same experience.

He had spotted the kresnik from across the common area of the Undercroft, a smile spreading across face as he made his way over to him. "Ric," He greeted, motioning to the seat next to the other, "Can I join you?" He waited for permission before taking a seat next to him, eyes shining with warmth as he looked at him. "How've you been settling in?" He asked, "I hope no one's given you.. trouble."

[thebloodofbriar]

The seelie's eyes flicked down to the hand on his shoulder and then back up again to the kresnik's face. His words had a smile spreading across his face again, still ever so slightly sad but less now. "It's nice to hear that," He really couldn't remember the last time someone pointed his resilience, the way he always pushed through everything to keep a smile on his face. This castle was testing his durability however, he wasn't sure how much longer his optimism could last. He gave him a look similar to that of a concerned and simultaneously disappointed mother, shaking his head with a soft laugh. He could see that soft blush, the shyness, but he wouldn't comment. He was only so good at catching it because it reminded him of himself when he first met his fiancé. "I've met Manny, he's quite nice indeed," Not to mention a relief that it was someone kind out of all the interesting people in the castle.

Briar let out an amused laugh, for a moment enjoying the small glimpse into what the other's life had been like before. He always wondered that, the lives all the slaves had before. It was sad though, to think about all the hopes and dreams stolen from them all, so he tried not to ask. "I'm sure he misses you greatly," Because who wouldn't? Ric was an amazing person in the fae's eyes, he'd surely miss him if something happened that got him scooped out of the castle. He laughed again, this time through an amused huff, "A horse?" He repeated, brows raising, "Horses are pretty, but I need something to cuddle up with. Can't do that with a horse.. though, i've never tried so who knows," He grinned, shaking his head at himself.

His lips pursed at his question, shifting in his seat to sit up straighter as he sighed. "Oh- no, it's okay," He reassured when Ric insisted that they could talk about something else. Getting sad over it wasn't the problem, it was the way everyone he talked about Inez to seemed to think he was bad somehow, in some way. Briar couldn't see it, couldn't even fathom his man being someone terrible. After all, he loved him, didn't he? Took care of him when he had no one else? Would someone terrible do those things? "He's definitely not shy, i'm the shy one out of the two of us if you can believe that," He mused, knowing that outside of intimate situations, he really wasn't shy at all. "I don't know really, they always liked him at first but after meeting him in person they just like.. changed their minds? I could never get a straight answer from them."

Ric stared at Briar for a few seconds, not even needing to use his powers to sense the veil of sadness hanging over the fae. He nodded gently when Briar said he’d had to do his best just to keep his head down, then smiled softly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, lose that sad expression, Bri. Being someone as kind and nice as you is a gift. Staying that way despite everything life throws at you? That’s a monumental achievement. I’m sure there are plenty of people who appreciate you for who you are, both back home and here. I know I do.” He said it sincerely, looking into Briar’s eyes with his own emerald green ones, hoping to convey the honesty behind his words. Ric could be incredibly shy and closed-off, but when the moment clicked, he transformed completely—so much so that he wouldn’t hesitate to dive into heartfelt speeches that would have made the manly men from his old coven shudder. He threw his head back with bubbling laughter as Briar got all flustered about the scuffle. “Oh, nothing to worry about, really. I kinda had it coming.” he said with a mischievous grin. “Let’s just say... I tried to step in and calm down an argument, and I got myself a black eye for the trouble.” Then, for just a moment, his tone shifted. “But the one who saved the day was Manny. He’s... a remarkable guy.”

He added that last part almost shyly, unable to hide how affected he was by the guard—even as his cheeks flushed pink. Ric knew talking about this kind of thing with Briar was safe, that the seelie wouldn’t judge him, and yet the discomfort was still there. It stung to realize that internalized homophobiawas a ghost of his old life, something he was still desperately trying to shake off.

“And yeah, Uranus is the best. I think he’d like you, you know? He’d roll his eyes every time you said something and always give you that grumpy face, but deep down, he’s a big cuddly bear. God, I hope he’s doing okay.” He said, all in one breath, unable to hold back a smile.

The feelings he had for the man whom he was raised with hit him like a freight train. He wanted to talk about it with Briar, to know what he thought—if it was something acceptable or if he’d just think Ric was a creepy weirdo. Maybe he would… later. For now, Briar was already talking about his own life, and Ric pulled his gaze away from his friend’s for a moment, staring off into space as he listened intently.

“You know, I think I would’ve liked having a cat. But in my coven, all animals not sacred to the Greek gods were forbidden. As Neptune, I got to have a horse,” he said with a grin, thinking back to the black stallion his father sometimes let him ride. Not that he could ever go far, but he liked the idea of galloping through the woods, wind in his hair. All traces of that cheer faded, though, when Briar mentioned his fiancé—Inez. A heavy, cold sensation gripped Ric’s chest instinctively. Maybe it was unfair, judging someone he’d never met. But from the little Briar had said about him, Ric had formed the impression that Inez wasn’t all that different from his own father: charming and brilliant on the surface, but with something darker lurking in his heart.

“Oh? And why’s that? Was he shy?” he asked, trying to mask the unease in his voice, though his wide-open eyes gave him away. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear Briar’s side of the story. Ric was sure Briar loved Inez, but he wasn’t so sure about Inez’s intentions. “Sorry, if this stuff makes you sad, I don’t want to push you. We can totally talk about something else if you prefer!” he added quickly, afraid he’d crossed a line that might upset him.

[adrasian]

Adrasia blinked in surprise at the statement, but his smile widened softly, appreciating its sincerity. "I believe he is not a cruel man," He allowed, "And I thank you for the sentiment." Beauty, the angel had witnessed much of in his travels across the earth. Kindness, too, in much greater amounts than might be expected. He let Ric get lost in his thoughts at the question, infinitely patient (even if that was not exactly his primary virtue). The answer that finally came only had Adrasia's brow furrowing in tender sympathy. "It's not so strange. I understand completely; at times, even, I have wondered the same myself. But there are ways." How could he not wonder, when captivity was so antithetical to Adrasia's mission, his being? He wasn't so sure he'd perfectly answered that question, but for this young man? He could offer enough. "It's most certainly possible. We can go now, if you like." He was about to protest the notion of repayment until Ric described what he had in mind and to that Adrasia could only nod. He had the feeling music would be just as good for the other to provide as it would be for himself to hear, if the enthusiasm radiating from Ric was anything to go by. "I would be delighted to hear you play," Adrasia responded, utterly truthful.

There was another flicker of nervousness he sensed from the other, but the question that came past Ric's lips surprised the celestial momentarily out of springing to immediately soothe it. The rest of the words that followed had him no less surprised, though perhaps he had known, somehow, beneath his conscious mind. There was always a particular resonance Adrasia felt with those blessed by divine blood. And this one was blessed. There was so much fearful hope brimming in Ric's eyes, Adrasia knew he had no option but to be honest with him. He felt his own fear, hope, gladness - even grief, to have the kresnik trapped there. It pained him any of their kind was taken by a place such as this. But perhaps this was the reason Adrasia had found himself imprisoned, for those like him, without the certainty of the Father behind them. "We are," He replied gently, holding Ric's eyes, trying to channel as much reassurance as he could muster, "You have been touched by the same divine power that created me. It is a marvelous blessing. Your mother's guardian must have seen something great in you to bestow it." Had he known this strange angel? Brushed past her in her mission? Adrasia could not help but think of his own wards and wonder what had happened to Ric's mother in the end.

After only a few minutes of conversation, Ric was becoming increasingly certain that Adrasia and Amara were, in some way, kindred spirits. And yet, the more the other spoke, the more Ric came to appreciate the differences between them. Adrasia was like the flame of a candle—calm and steady—while his mother's guardian was more erratic and emotional. Both seemed capable of giving off the same warmth and light, making it impossible for Ric not to smile wistfully. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said softly when Adrasia confirmed he had been claimed and was now at his master's disposal. "Or maybe not—if you believe he's a good man? I…" He faltered, once again struggling to find the right words. "I just hope nothing bad happens to you. You seem like someone who deserves only beauty and kindness in life." He continued, offering an embarrassed but sincere smile. When the celestial asked what he wanted to know, Ric found himself unable to settle on a single question. They stormed through his mind like a hurricane, now that he had finally found someone he felt comfortable with. How can I survive, knowing the people I love are suffering because of me? Is there any hope for us, or should we just give up? Am I really the monster my father says I am? "I want to know how to survive in this castle without losing myself. Which is easier said than done, to be honest—especially since I don’t even know who I really am.” He gave a soft laugh, shaking his head with a sad smile. “I’m sorry if I keep asking strange things. It’s just that… somehow, it feels like you might understand,” he added, lowering his gaze in embarrassment. His eyes lit up at the mention of the guest patio, his excitement shooting skyward. “Are you serious? You can take me to see sunlight?” he asked in a hushed, eager tone, unable to contain his emotions at the thought. “Are you sure it's allowed? If it breaks the rules, then I don't want to. You've already been too kind to me—I couldn’t let you get in trouble on my account. But if it really is possible, then…” He let the sentence hang in the air, feeling vaguely guilty for accepting an invitation Adrasia had probably only extended out of politeness. “But you have to let me repay you. I heard there’s a huge music room somewhere in the castle. I’d be honored to play for you—if I can get my hands on a violin! That is… if you’d like that, of course,” he added quickly, unable to hide an excitement so pure it bordered on childlike. But there was one thing he needed to know first. “Adrasia… I hope I’m not overstepping by asking, but… is there any chance that you’re at least partly celestial?” he asked, hesitating, eyes wide and throat tight with nerves. “The friend I told you about… she’s not just a friend. She’s my mother’s guardian, and… she made me like her. A little. My parents are witches, but I’m… different.” He hoped Adrasia would understand what he couldn’t quite put into words. Kresniks were abominations, according to his father. And even though the man in front of him couldn’t have been more different from Jupiter, Ric was still terrified that he might be repulsed by what he was. “And I wanted to know if… maybe… you and I are… alike. Even just a little.”

[councillor-roland]

This damnable month wouldn't stop plaguing him. Roland supposed it might be worthwhile to just sit with his feelings instead of avoiding them so they didn't come out in irritability and severe mood swings but the idea of sitting down and thinking about it, of...of letting those memories consume him was unbearable. He couldn't go there, he didn't want to. Alix probably deserved it, the be memorialized like that, wept over again and again, but Roland had had enough trouble pulling himself out of that despair the first time. If ever he gave into it again he feared never coming out. So he avoided, he drank, he fucked, he snapped at those undeserving, and he prowled, for lack of a better word. He'd had more than a few glasses of bloodwine that night and while he could've approached Adrasia he'd slipped out of the suite instead, gone to the music room for a time and pounded away on the piano. Being alone wasn't helping as the music had eventually swung around to sadder and softer interludes and he'd had to drag himself away from the piano before he gave in entirely. Company, he just needed company and there was always some to be found in the Undercroft.

The hour was late, though Roland had lost track of just how late. It might be so late that it had swung back around to early for all he knew. Roland was aware that many of the slaves would likely be sleeping but he doubted some of his favourites would mind being woken to spend time with him. He was on his way to the cots when a slave very nearly collided with him, Roland's vampiric instincts the only thing that stopped it from happening. Still, his blue eyes flashed with anger as he looked at the slave he didn't recognize, indignant at the near crash and far more upset about it than he would've normally been but it wasn't a good night. He must have seemed especially intimidating given the way the slave cowered away and tried to leave immediately but Roland's hand shot out and grabbed his arm, not bruisingly but firmly, to keep him there. "Wait." It wasn't a request. He pulled him back and studied him. "I don't recognize you. You must be new." And clearly quite scared. Roland tried to dredge up a little sympathy, soften his voice and expression just slightly but it was hard when his anger was fueled by his churning emotions even if the infraction of nearly running into him didn't deserve this level of ire.

"You best not get going until I tell you you can. I'm not normally violent with the slaves but don't test me." That was hardly soothing and Roland made a frustrated sound, more at himself than the other man, and clenched his jaw. "What's your name?" There, that was a neutral place to start.

tw: physical abuse

Enrico whimpered in fear as his father’s belt struck his back repeatedly. He just tried to be quiet, making himself as small as possible, avoiding doing anything that might augment Jupiter’s rage. His father didn’t seem like he wanted to stop, though. He kept calling him weak, pathetic, an abomination, screaming and shouting until the Kresnik woke up in a cold sweat, trembling in his bed in the Undercroft. Ric looked around the dark dormitory, trying to get his bearings and breathing deeply to slow down his racing heart. Jupiter didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore; he had been very adamant about that, but the years of abuse still haunted him in his dreams.

Most of the other slaves of the Undercroft were still asleep—what was the time? It was hard to tell for Ric, unable as he was to look at the sky—but he still decided to get up and get a hot shower. He let the warm water soothe his body, washing away most of the anxiety and the panic that formed a grip on his chest.

When he was done, he felt far from being in a cheery mood, but he was better. As he made his way out of the showers to go back to his bunk, his still slightly wet body covered by a towel tightly wrapped around his waist, he almost crashed into an unknown man. “Sorry, I didn’t see you, did I—“ he started apologizing, before suddenly finding himself unable to speak. As he looked at the man’s blond hair and the severe look in his eyes, the Kresnik couldn’t help but see flashes of his father. The stranger he ran into didn’t even look that much like Jupiter—he was slightly shorter, his facial features were less sharp and he was definitely dressed more elegantly than his father had ever been—but the similarities were significant enough to bring him back to his nightmare. He went pale, his green eyes wide and his breath stuck in his throat. “I—I—I am s-sorry, sir. I'd better get going. Please have a nice d-d-day.” He stuttered, trying to slip away before having a panic attack in front of the man. 

@councillor-roland

[bloodsoakedwhiskers]

"Seriously, I don't understand how they expect you to be able to enjoy yourself," He mused back, his brows shooting up a second later at the slave's words. "Someone like me?" He repeated, but it wasn't taunting nor teasing, it was genuine curiosity and amusement, even with the way his shoulders straightened so he stood a bit more confidently. He pushed back the warmth of a vague blush coating his cheeks, but that didn't stop his eyes from shifting to note the color shifting cover the slave's cheeks as well. He bit the inside of his lower lip, looking away for a moment to avoid freaking himself out with how much he enjoyed just.. looking at him. Most people here were attractive, but Cyril found himself pulled towards the genuineness he held so high, it made him more alluring.

"I would share the gratitude but unfortunately I can't bring myself to be glad for anyone becoming collared," He gave him a smile, saddened, hidden understanding underneath. He huffed a laugh when told to stop suggesting stripping, though the mention of dancing made his face twist a bit in uncertainty. "I don't know about that," He knew how to dance, quite well in fact. It had been one of the many things his old master had trained into him. He just didn't want to, couldn't anticipate being able to without suffering through memories. "I'd certainly enjoy accompanying you outside, though. Only if that's what you'd like to do, of course. I won't force you to spend your rare night of make-shift freedom with me."

Ric couldn’t help but respond to the giant’s joke with a friendly smile. “It’s really not. I think if I tried to eat anything, the buttons on this shirt would fly off and kill someone.” He chuckled, nervously smoothing down his jacket with his palms. “But taking your shirt off? Terrible idea. Someone like you would drown in a sea of drool, with all the creeps hanging around this place.” he added with a scoff—only to immediately realize what he had just said. Someone like you. His ears lit up with a creeping blush as he silently begged every god he knew that the man—Cyril, that was his name—hadn’t picked up on the implication. Dammit, what was happening to him? He’d spent thirty years hiding that part of himself without much effort, and yet lately, it kept surfacing no matter how hard he tried to keep it buried. That place’s nefarious influence was clearly getting to him too. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from looking at Cyril with quiet intensity when the older man admitted he was trying to be more social. “Perfectly understandable. I’m trying to make friends too, now that I live here. For what it’s worth… I’m glad you’re here. Really.” he added, his voice a little uncertain, but undeniably sincere.

Not even the unhealthy shade of purple his face had turned could dim the bright sparkle in his green eyes. Because somehow—even with a collar around his neck—he could sense a certain sadness in Cyril’s words, something that might have mirrored his own. And his celestial nature—the same one that would’ve had him stop breathing if it meant helping someone else—took over in spite of his usual social awkwardness. He’d do whatever it took to pull a smile from that man, who, on the surface at least, seemed to have a kind soul. “But really, you should stop suggesting stripping down.” He grinned. “Would you like to dance? I have absolutely no idea how to do it, but I can… sway my body vaguely to the rhythm of the music.” He joked, shaking his head with amusement and staring at the floor. “Or maybe you’d rather step outside for a bit of fresh air? I swear, this collar is choking me.”

[thebloodofbriar]

He gave him a smile, undertones of sadness behind it as he sighed, "I can only hope," He spoke, pained honesty. He didn't know is Inez cared, it had been so long already, he was just try to convince himself that his fiancé just didn't know where he was. He huffed a soft laugh at his words, nodding in agreement, "Yeah- you and me both, but unfortunately I gotta' do what I gotta' do," He wouldn't let himself get upset, wouldn't do anything to ruin the comfortable energy settling between them.

He grinned as his shoulder was pushed, just for it to falter as he spoke of fighting, "What? Ric, you got like, in a fist fight with someone? What happened? Are you okay? I'll give them an earful if I have to." Briar certainly couldn't fight for him, the seelie was pretty sure he didn't even know how to throw a punch, but he sure seemed to know how to talk. His smile returned at the mention of cats, even in the context, and instinctively his fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach for his phone, just to pause and let out a quiet breath. Couldn't show him pictures of his cat that was the exact description of that, but again, he wouldn't let himself linger. "He sounds fun, like a nice guy," He responded, "I'm sure he misses you greatly."

He bit back the urge to ask him what was wrong when he looked away, could see it written across his face, but he wouldn't pry. He didn't want to dissuade him from continuing a friendship. "Oh jeez, where do I even begin? I was a proud cat dad, I actually have- had a fat cat with a permanently grumpy face. Life was so simple. I gardened, cooked, cuddled with my cats and fiancé. Really couldn't have asked for more," And now it was all gone, he was struggling to grasp that fact, "I had some friends too but they didn't come around much. Inez and them didn't really get along."

He smiled when Briar sat down beside him, moving to one end of the worn-out sofa and hugging his knees, resting his chin on them as he watched the boy in front of him closely. Ric knew that appearances could be deceiving—especially in a place like this—and that the seelie was, in reality, older than his own father. And yet, to Ric’s eyes, he seemed incredibly young—not just in appearance, but in spirit—and that only deepened his instinct to protect him. There was no hidden motive behind that feeling, nothing romantic or sexual about his protectiveness—not that Briar was unattractive or anything like that. It was just how Ric was. He had made a promise to himself: that he would do everything in his power to protect the innocent, especially those who couldn’t protect themselves. That was what mattered most to him now—the one thing keeping him going, keeping him from falling apart. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure everyone back home misses you,” he offered, though he knew Briar’s situation was... complicated. They hadn’t gone into much detail yet, but from the little the seelie had said about his fiancé, Ric couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of unease. “It hurts to hear you say that—because you shouldn’t have to shrink yourself just to survive—but in a place like this... I’m just glad you haven’t had any trouble.” He smiled and reached out to give him a light push on the shoulder. “As for me, I got into my first fight since we met. Quite the thrilling experience,” he joked, thinking back to the moment when, defending a slave not too different from Briar, he had met Manny—who happened to be Enzo’s colleague. And Enzo… he wasn’t ready to talk about him. Not yet. “There’s not much good to say about my home. My father wasn’t... a kind person. But there were still people I cared about deeply. Have I ever told you about my best friend? God, he was terrible. Imagine a giant cat with a permanently grumpy face. All he ever did was tease me, but... I loved him. I still do,” he admitted, looking away. His story had started with the bright, excited tone of a child remembering their favorite day—but gradually faded into something more wistful. He shook his head, as if trying to dispel the memories, then turned back to Briar with a warm smile. “And you? Would you like to tell me something about your life before Krovs?”

[bloodsoakedwhiskers]

Cyril's brows furrowed slightly before his face was softening into an amused smile, looking the other over with a small shake of his head. "Yeah, uh, that doesn't really look that comfortable," He replied, shifting his head back a bit to look at the costume that seemed to have one too many layers. "I'd offer to give you my shirt instead but I fear i'd be sniffed out. They're like wild dogs it seems," The lynx, being a feline, found that extra amusing, obvious in the way his smile widened and he chuckled under his breath. "I'm Cyril. It is nice to meet you as well," He seemed sweet, and the shapeshifter could see that innocence of a soul not yet crushed by the weight of the world in his eyes. He felt jealous of it, at the same time he felt a fierce urge to protect it, to make sure it didn't fade. At the question, putting him on the spot to come up with a reason that he didn't have.

"Uh.. well, uh- well.. I guess I just wanted an excuse to be social," He paused far too much for it to seem honest, but it was. He was desperate for conversations, interactions, meaningful conversations that he could think about later instead of the usual thoughts that constantly plagued him. "Kind of regretting it, these pants make me want to cut them off and burn them."

Ric couldn’t help but smile when the man leaned down toward him to hear his words better. He should’ve felt embarrassed about the way he’d mumbled, maybe, but the man still hadn’t triggered his fight-or-flight response, unlike so many others seemed to do so easily. Ric had been pretty good at reading auras before he was collared, but he’d quickly learned that his instincts were usually enough to guide him, if he trusted them. In the case of the taller man—although only by a couple of inches—those instincts weren’t exactly screaming at him to run. The way the guy leaned toward him felt friendly, and honestly, a little goofy… but in an endearing way.

“Are you kidding, right?” he joked, tilting his head slightly toward the guy, offering a tight, forced smile. “I’d pick real bears over this kind of stuff a thousand times. Bears are pretty chill, if you don’t provoke them or get too close to their cubs. And more importantly, they don’t make you dress up in ridiculous outfits for their fetishes. Word of a guy who grew up in the woods,” he added, voice lower now, but more confident than before. He gave his new acquaintance a big grin, oddly comforted by the awkwardness they both seemed to share. “I’m Ric, by the way. Nice to meet you. Can I ask why you’re here, if you don’t have to be?” he asked quietly, his tone not confrontational, just clearly curious. The man wasn’t wearing a collar, after all, and since he actually seemed like a decent person, Ric was almost about to suggest he run for it, if he still could.

[adrasian]

What whirlwinds this young one's emotions stirred themselves up into. Adrasia was surprised by the sudden swelling of excitement, the fear that poisoned it. Perhaps even a twinge of shame, if he cared to investigate the tangle of feeling further -- but he would not. Even if the celestial's empathy was undetectable, he still considered it rude to delve too deeply into another's state of mind without sufficient motive. Who could blame a new slave for feeling fear, of all things? "I have been claimed by one of the masters here, yes," He replied, "And thus I am kept in his chambers. Should he grow tired of me," The elder added with a quirk of his lips, "I expect I'll return here to stay with you and the others once more." His smile grew a little wider at Ric's explanation; it was not Adrasia's first time being told he reminded someone of a person dear to them. Indeed, he'd watched countless similar interactions between others of his kind and the mortals they tended to. A celestial might be led by their virtue, but humanity was all too capable of displaying it and almost more admirable for it, he thought, when such kindness was something they chose.

It said something about his time at Krovs that he wasn't taken as off guard by Ric's touch as he once would have been. The haunted look in the other's eyes was far more important to tend to. "It's quite alright," Adrasia took the young man's hand from his shoulder, clasping it comfortingly in two of his own as his gaze searched Ric's face with nothing but sympathy displayed on his own, "I understand completely. What would you like to know?" The celestial's knowledge was not perfect, current events often evaded his notice completely, but living with Roland had afforded him a bit wider of a lens with which to view the world. "I may be able to do better than tell you," Adrasia added a thoughtful moment later, knowing just what he would like to offer to this poor soul now that he could feel his anxiety and longing even more potently for touching skin to skin. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? There is a patio of sorts atop this very castle where food is offered to the masters' guests. One can see for miles." He said the last part meaningfully, remembering how badly he'd yearned for the wind on his face when he'd first awoken in the Undercroft.

Ric was not used to dealing with kindness. It was a strange thing to think about, since kindness was his virtue, but almost none of the people in his life had shared this trait with him. He knew his mother loved him with all of her heart, but she was never the affectionate type with him. Her way of showing love was worried looks and whispered advice, and the Kresnik could barely remember the last time she hugged him. Uranus, his best friend, was pretty much the same: he teased Ric with sarcastic jabs and roughed him up a little by shoving him around, but he tensed up every time he found himself on the receiving end of Ric’s physical or verbal affection. Ric didn’t hold that against either of them: he knew that his father’s influence made every display of humanity dangerous, in their minds, and he was glad to adapt his behavior to those boundaries. The only real exception had been Amara, the celestial that, in a way, was a second mother to him, but not even knowing her for years had prepared Ric to expect that a complete stranger could treat him with the warmth and gentleness that Adrasia reserved for him. It felt… weird, but not in a bad way. “Oh, shoot, I am making a fool out of myself, aren’t I?” He chuckled, blushing a little but somehow managing to keep his gaze locked onto the other’s. “I am sorry; I haven’t seen you around here, and I just… assumed. Do you live upstairs?” He asked curiously. He didn’t know what he would give to feel the warmth of sunlight for a few minutes, so much so that even talking to someone who could filled him with excitement. “It’s really nice to meet you, Adrasia, but I do not believe I deserve your kind words. My father would probably whip me a dozen times for talking to you without asserting dominance and all of the other stupid, manly stuff.” He said, his smile becoming a little more sad as the memory of Amara’s disdainful words about his father’s teachings hit him like a truck. “And I really appreciate your offer, but you’ve already helped me more than you think. You reminded me of an old friend, someone I love very much. That’s all I could really ask for right now.” He smiled sincerely, laying a hand on Adrasia’s shoulder in a friendly way. “Although, if I had to be brazen, I would ask you to tell me something, anything, about the world outside the Undercroft.” His voice got smaller and smaller as his request went on, almost as if it was being silenced by his uneasiness. “Sorry if it sounds weird, I just… need to know that the world keeps going on, even if my world has stopped since I’ve been brought here. Does that make sense? Probably not. Forget I asked.” He said finally in a rush, staring at Adrasia with a pleading, slightly terrified look in his boyish face.

[thebloodofbriar]

His smile only widened, taking the seat next to him with a soft laugh at his words. It was the part of him that always wanted to help people that had made him approach the other when he had just arrived, and Briar was growing to be glad that he struggled so hard not to helpful. In here, it was hard for him to find anyone to just have a conversation with, someone that wouldn't expect sex, or be mean, or even worse, hurt him. He could count them all on one hand, a solid three. Two of which were celestials, one was of Briar's own kind. He was grateful for them, most especially for Ric since unlike Adrasia or Bradley, he was unclaimed just like the seelie. Unless one of them got rented, they always had the opportunity to sit and talk.

He gave him a look of understanding, "I unfortunately do know how it is." It had been almost three months for Briar, three months of being held against his will, three months of being apart from his fiance, his cats. It saddened him, so he did his best to not linger on it, knowing there wasn't much he could do to change it. He huffed a laugh at his words, brows raising with a shake of his head. "Okay, touché," He mused, not an ounce of offense taken from his words. "I haven't, thank god. Just.. keeping my head down," He fought back the urge to frown, instead choosing to change the subject as he shifted, turning his body to face Ric more, pulling a leg up onto the couch and tugging his knee to his chest. "Would it help you feel less homesick if you told me about home?"

Ric was sitting alone that morning, thinking about his best friend and hoping he was okay, that somehow his father hadn’t noticed how he helped him in his botched attempt to escape, when he felt Briar’s presence standing beside him. He looked at him with his bright green eyes, smiling cheerfully as he looked at his face. “Hi Briar! What kind of question is that? Of course you can join me!” He said, the dramatically fake disdain in his tone doing basically nothing to hide his joyful disposition.

Briar had been one of the first people he had been able to establish what seemed to be like a genuine, steady interaction with in the castle, and the Kresnik was infinitely grateful for the small acts of kindness the seelie had shown him during the brief time they had met each other. Maybe it was too early to call Briar a friend, but the Italian could feel their connection, like it was a small shrub that, with enough time and care, could blossom into something big, strong, and long-lasting. The connection he had in mind wasn’t necessarily romantic or sexual, but that didn’t make it any less precious. “And I’m doing pretty okay, I guess. Just feeling a bit homesick, you know how it is.” He said, shrugging and giving the other an apologetic smile. He didn’t want to burden him with his problems, especially since he was sure Briar had his own stuff going on. “And I’m not the one always getting myself in trouble, you know? How about you? Have you met any new weirdos lately?” He teased, trying his best to hide the worry in his eyes. Briar seemed to have the talent to attract unwanted attention from… peculiar men, to use a euphemism. Ric couldn’t help but feel a bit protective of his new almost-but-not-quite-yet friend.

[adrasian]

For once, Adrasia was surprised by having one of the slaves approach him instead of the other way around. At least for the new arrivals, most were suspicious and unsettled to make overtures. The celestial understood that immensely. It only made it more important for him to be the one who reached out his hand. He took in the stranger's earnest expression, feeling the gentle apprehension mingled with resolve drifting from the young man. He felt himself soften towards the other almost immediately at such feelings. And to approach Adrasia with kindness in mind as well, with the celestial in Roland's fine clothes, the golden of the councilman's collar glinting against his chest, it was a generous thing indeed.

"No, friend. I have been here many months. You, certainly, have not." There was no judgement in the angel's voice, only a tender sort of sadness. "I am glad to meet you, Ric. Please, call me Adrasia." He seemed very young to Adrasia's eyes, but sight alone never told the full story. Granted a fuller measure of his senses now, he could just begin to feel at the aura of otherness that hinted his new companion was more than human. There was something familiar, even, in that aura... "It's very brave of you to offer such aid unsolicited. Do not believe it unappreciated. It is only that I would much rather help you."

Ric’s first few days in the Undercroft didn’t necessarily go bad, per se. He guessed things could have been much worse, judging from the stories whispered by the other slaves, but that did little to improve his sour mood. For starters, the fact that he couldn’t even go outside to take a breath of fresh air was starting to turn him a bit stir-crazy—he had grown up in a giant villa surrounded by fields and woods, after all, and he was used to being outside from dawn to dusk to work—and the constant threat of becoming a master’s chew toy until he had nothing left to give them induced quite a lot of anxiety in him. But the thing that made him really suffer was the constant uncertainties buzzing in his mind like a swarm of bees. He didn’t know what his life would be like from that moment on, but most importantly, he had no idea what happened to the people he loved. Amara, Juno, and Ouranos. Their pain, their suffering, and their blood were on his hands, and he didn’t quite know how to survive with that knowledge. 

But he knew he had to find a way; he had vowed to do that to the celestial that had saved his life in more ways than he could express with words. So he tried to make things better—if not for himself, at least for somebody else—with every small means that was available to him.

Which is why, when an unfamiliar figure entered the Undercroft, Ric gawked at him curiously. The half-witch immediately noticed how he wasn’t dressed like the other men that resided in that dark place; furthermore, the collar he wore looked different from the ones the Italian was familiar with. He didn’t know what those details meant, but it hardly mattered to him. “Hey, are you new here?” He asked with a soft and warm voice, approaching the long-haired man without directly invading his personal space. “I’m Ric, nice to meet you! Are you okay? Do you need some help?” He asked, with a nervous and yet determinate energy. Talking to strangers still made him a bit uncomfortable, but the thought of being able to help a potential soul in need was all the motivation he needed to power through the uneasiness.

@adrasian

[bloodsoakedwhiskers]

Cyril didn't expect to be approached by so many people, nor did he anticipate doing the approaching. It seemed tonight was full of both, and when another slave had found their way to him and was speaking up, this time he was a bit more relaxed and didn't so much like he was being held hostage. Unfortunately for both of them, with the music and talking and all the other noises of the party moving on around them he did not hear what he said.

"I'm sorry- what?" He shifted closer, leaning down slightly from his full 6'4" height so he could try and focus on just his voice. He did catch the thing about bears however and huffed a laugh, shaking his head, "Kinda' feels like we are stuck with a hundred bears already just, in the ballroom." He motioned out towards the mixed crowd of dancing vampires and slaves and the few stray villagers. Really, most he had met so far were kind, spare the outlying few who seemed to want to just get under his skin. He definitely wanted to keep an open mind, he wanted to be normal, to blend in and be able to conversate normally without feeling like he was being pricked apart by everyone's stares. So, he wasn't turning away conversations yet, even after that terrifying interaction with the Irish councilman.

Ric had been dreading this party from the moment he first heard about it. He’d grown up in a rural witch commune—parties, for him, usually meant bonfires during the major sabbaths, not costume balls where he’d be forced to dress like some dandy up for auction to the highest bidder. He’d hoped to spend the evening tucked away in a corner, chatting quietly with Briar or Adrasia, but luck clearly wasn’t on his side. The seelie had slipped off almost immediately after sneaking a glass of alcohol—Ric was definitely going to sulk at him for at least half an hour once he found him again, after making sure he was okay—and he still hadn’t managed to spot the comforting presence of the celestial in the sea of unfamiliar faces.

He did his best to shrink into himself and avoid bumping into anyone, but it was hard, squeezed as he was into a tight-fitting black and silver suit. He could barely breathe in the damn thing, let alone move with any kind of grace. Still, he had to admit: most of the guests looked like modern-day Adonises, decked out in their extravagant Victorian outfits. For a brief moment, Ric found himself feeling vaguely jealous, wondering if anyone would ever look at him the way they looked at each other. It was a foolish thought, especially in a place where people were already treated like objects without needing to be further fetishized—but he couldn’t help thinking life might be simpler if he could just relax a little, come out of his shell the way the other slaves here seemed able to.

He was still lost in that train of thought when he noticed something interesting: a man who looked just as miserable as he felt. That seemed like a good place to start—at least they had that much in common. “Gods, what I’d give to wear a loose shirt like yours,” he said with an awkward little smile, perhaps a bit too quietly for the stranger to actually hear him. “Is it just me, or would you rather be in the woods with a hundred bears than stuck in this ballroom?”

He relaxed a bit when it became clear the man wasn’t going to punch him just for speaking. Probably. As he looked into those intense dark eyes, Ric tried to imagine what Briar would do in this situation. He always seemed so much better at handling moments like this.

@bloodsoakedwhiskers