gwyndolence

[gwyndolence]

The other master was going to go the big and surly route, was he? Gwyn could cope. Gareth might be burlier but the sith had seniority on him and a much better attitude, in Gwyn's humble opinion. "Much like presents, opinions don't have to be wanted to be given," He said with a grin, "And much like presents, they're very easily discarded if one finds the opinion not to their taste. Was lack of taste the problem?" He peered up at Gareth innocently from under his lashes as he took another sip of his drink before he resurfaced with a small acquiescence. "For what's it's worth, I find no fault in your dress in the slightest. The coat is doing wonderful things for your shoulders."

If Gareth hadn't already been in a bad mood, then his interaction with Roland would have quickly put him into one. The aswang had left the bar and settled off to one side of the room, leaned against the wall and nursing some blood wine. He'd been watching his slaves move around the room, noting someone hovering around Bradley but not concerned enough to step in and intervene.

It seemed like the same exact man felt like approaching him now and Gareth eyed him silently, not returning the grin. The aswang took a slow sip of his drink before grunting at the question. He vaguely knew this guy, having some knowledge of who he was. "Your sire likes to give his opinion where it's not wanted or needed." Gareth returned coolly, lowering his glass down. "Something he teach you?"

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn stretched out with the all the confident languor of a house cat, pleased as punch to have the pamola's eyes wandering over him. "The invitation never said it had to be a complete costume. The pieces are all authentic," He said proudly, folding his hands behind his head to prop himself up, "Though I wouldn't say no to a little karaoke. D'you suppose they'd ever set that up for a ball? Or is that too fun for a castle event? I struggle to imagine the councilmen belting Abba." The sith's voice inevitably broke into a giggle at the end of that imagining.

"Oh no, don't you be comparing me with yourself," Khion snickered as he ran his gaze up along Gwyn's legs, his hips, and covered torso in the long white shirt until he met those pretty eyes. "I might've strayed a little away from the literalness of the theme but I'm at least wearing a full outfit. You look like you're about to grab a hairbrush, slide along the floor of your home, and start rocking out to karaoke, babe."

[gwyndolence]

Though Gwyn leaned into Raphael's light touch like a pet seeking more caresses, he looked unoffended when the ghoul unceremoniously got to his feet, leaving the younger master lurching to collect himself. It was Raph after all, all Gwyn had needed was one previous encounter of theirs to know he wasn't exactly the kind of man one expected a cuddle from in the afterglow. And he really shouldn't be lingering long with him after this kind of display if he didn't want to invite more whispers that might reach Roland's ears...

"Ta-ta, councilman," Gwyn managed dreamily, propping his elbow up on Raphael's vacated seat as the other hand fiddled with the fastenings of his trousers, "Happy to reach an accord." Did he really believe the elder vampire would be happy to call it a truce, just like that? Not in the slightest. But Gwyn was confident he'd delayed things long enough with this little stunt to find a more permanent solution, and that he could be perfectly satisfied with. At least for one night.

Raphael never once looked away from the arousing display, his tongue slowly dragging over his bottom lip as Gwyn looked positively lovely like this. He inhaled deeply when the other climaxed breathing in that potent and sweet sexual energy released into the air at that moment. "What a perfect little whore you are," he hummed, gently brushing the back of his finger over that pale cheek and sharp jaw. "That might've been just enough to convince me to forget what I saw earlier." He wouldn't, of course, but he liked providing hope before ripping it away. He'd hold onto this fact like he did with Gwyn stealing from his club on New Year's Eve until just the right moment presented itself to throw it into Roland's face. The blissed out fae didn't need to know that.

He gently pushed Gwyn out of his way as he stood up and zipped himself back up in his pants. "Take as long as you need here, precious." He patted him on the cheek. "I should return to the party."

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn cocked his head back at the kresnik with his own knowing kind of smile. "Come now, sheriff. Do you expect forthcomingness from either of those two men? I would get an answer, sure, but nothing close to honest." He gave his drink another thoughtful stir, squinting considerately at Kaden. This officer was quite different from their mutual acquaintance. Gwyn had no illusions that he could get Kaden to drop his guard through strategic flirtations like he had with Ransom. Their first encounters most certainly would not end the same way.

"It's bad news for poor Morozov, regardless," Gwyn started again, expression still looking a bit thoughtful and distant, though his eyes were trained on Kaden's face, "He hasn't the temperament for it, amongst other obvious issues with arrangement. I should like to help him, if I could."

"That is a theory goin' around," Kaden replied, neither confirming nor denying any truth behind it. Lucien claimed that a lot, the kresnik on the receiving end of multiple rants about De Luca and his hoard of dragons. He didn't think two dragons counted as a hoard but Lucien also had a tendency to over-exaggerate the facts presented.

He sipped on his whiskey for a beat of silence then turned his head towards Gwyn with a raised brow. He knew enough about Ransom's connection with Raphael from helping the former investigate on his behalf years ago and whatever Ransom shared with him. It wasn't public knowledge and Kaden wasn't one to start wildfires of gossip. He smiled politely at the young sith. "That ain't my business to share now is it? Should ask Morozov or De Luca if you're so curious."

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn nodded slowly, though there was a glint in his eye as his smile widened a fraction. "Just good friends now, then?" He prompted, thinking of how he and Khion had watched the two together on Halloween. Quite the cozy, comfortable pair, though the sith could relent, that cambion didn't exactly seem the romantic type. "With benefits, of course." Gwyn assumed. "How very big and mature of you. I usually hear of such arrangements falling apart much more dramatically."

"While we were here," Seth clarified without further details. Even that timeline to him felt foggy since Hell added a decade to his life no one else experienced. Their relationship hadn't been declared official anyways until Shade dropped the label with their breakup. He scrubbed a hand over his face. "It was ended before then too. I barely remember the details of why any more. It doesn't matter though, I've moved on from it."

[gwyndolence]

"Some would argue that that's the point, my dear," Gwyn tittered. The sith, though, could not relate -- alcohol had a tendency to only make him even more enthusiastically himself. He grinned at the subtle glow on Briar's cheeks, the shy sweetness of his Seelie companion, so quick to obey. "Aye, you think. Because you don't know any better, do you? That's what I'd hazard to guess, if I were a guessing man." He daubed lightly at Briar's lids with his pinky finger, smudging out the gold. He didn't need to know the other's life story to see that sheltered nature peeking through. Who had protected the boy from the rest of the world, from all the experiences owed to such a pretty thing that would've made him less quick to blush? Gwyn couldn't decided if he wanted to thank the anonymous figure his mind had built or not. Briar deserved to have seen more and yet how exciting a notion to be the one who showed it all to him.

"Trained in every way that matters," Gwyn said with a toothy grin, fondly remembering how Roland had spun him around the empty ballroom of Castle Rochefort, "And that's more than you, my dearest." The smile softened, then grew, dazzling and warm at the words that left Briar's mouth next. Gwyn knew they had to be true. The possibilities of such a truth as the Seelie trusting him felt endless. He scattered a bit more of a golden shine to the tops of Briar's cheekbones, then set his brushes and powders aside, sighing approvingly. "You're lovely beyond measure, sweet Briar. Take a look and see what you think, hm?"

He gave sheepish smile as Gwyn appeared shocked at his admittance, nodding his head. “Well- I actually enjoy black coffee so that wasn’t an issue. But, yeah, not even cream. I just.. I feel like I turn into a completely different person,” Yet he still clutched the drink in his hand, still planned on drinking whatever the sith offered him. It would be rude if he didn’t, that’s what he told himself. He was ignoring the way his mind pleaded for an escape from his reality. His cheeks turned lightly pink, lips pursing slightly as his chin was shifted to Gwyn could have a better look at his face. “I think I know myself pretty well…,” He had meant to disagree but the way he trailed off made him sound a bit unsure. Maybe he was scared that exploring what else was out there for him would make him not want the little life he had back in England. “I think trying it all is a bit.. over the top?” Then again, he was so young compared to most in here, so young and yet already had been settling down. He was scared, really. Scared of finding out there might be better out there.

His smile pulled downwards and shy at the compliment to his eyes, eyelids fluttering closed when told to do so. There were quite few masters that Briar would feel comfortable enough trusting like this, eyes closed, touching his face. The feeling of a brush against his skin was almost calming, shoulders lowering as he relaxed a bit more under the skilled strokes of the make up brush. He let out an amused chuckle at his words, resisting the urge to shake his head so he didn’t mess the sith up. “Right, and you’re a trained dancer, are you?” He teased, just for his hand to tighten a bit around the glass at the question. It felt loaded, like each answer would be wrong. “… Yeah, I trust you,” Not that there was much standards in a place like this to gain his trust, but his words were honest like always.

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn laughed brightly, entertained as he always was by Roland's vanity and his sire's lack of self-consciousness when it came to displaying it. "Oh, at least a few. We couldn't have you stuck repeating outfits with such a wonderful opportunity for fun lying before us. How often do I get the opportunity to pick out your wardrobe?" Gwyn happily fell into line at Roland's hip as they perused options for the elder's temporary body, making a few safe suggestions he knew to be to Roland's taste and going out of his way to encourage the more dramatic choices. The final getup was absolutely amongst that second group and the sith was extremely pleased to see it had made the cut once they'd finally concluded their hunt. He was admired what it made of Roland's figure when his sire prompted him, eyes shooting back up to his face with a vacant look before the words registered. "I always have ideas," Gwyn replied automatically. Now, he really had to think of it -- though it didn't take long.

"Will you let me do your makeup?" He said in a rush as excitement flooded him, "I can bring all my things to your suite; it doesn't have to be my style." Indeed, the slapdash, smeared eye looks Gwyn tended to favor would look totally out of place on Roland's distinguished features. He was dying to get at him with the right lipstick shade. "We can have drinks at the rooftop after so you can show yourself off properly. It'd be an utter waste not to be looked at when you look like this. What do you say?"

"You're welcome to it." Roland wouldn't see any reason to keep such clothing after he was restored to his usual body. As stated, he had no real interest in cross dressing and all the better if Gwyn could get some use out of the clothes. "Do you mean just the underwear or anything else I buy?" He supposed they should clarify though it didn't really matter much, he supposed. Gwyn could have it all as far as he was concerned.

It was very strange being in a different body, and a female one at that. Roland was terribly used to his own given that he'd inhabited it for over a thousand years. Now there was a weight at his chest and a strange absence between his legs. The former vampire tried not to focus on it too much and studied himself in the mirror out here just as he'd done in the dressing room even as Gwyn came over to give his opinion. Roland didn't shy away from the touch or the adjustments. He'd only figured out how to put the bra on so quickly since he'd removed so many during his time. Still, it had taken a moment or two of figuring to make sure he got it right. "I'm always impressive, mon petit, no matter what body I'm currently occupying." Irritated as he was with the whole thing he supposed he should at least try to have fun with it. "Either works." Still blue eyes found Gwyn as he considered the question. "I'm stuck like this for a few days, non? So I'll have to get at least a few outfits." He huffed at the idea of Rhys finding such things in his closet. "I'm tempted to keep one or two of them there just to see his reaction. But as I said, I'll likely turn it all over to you, if you like. Now that I know what fits it'll be easier to find things."

He spent the next little while browsing, just in the underwear, and taking Gwyn's suggestions at times. After trying on several outfits he picked enough to keep himself well clothed for as long as this spell lasted. The outfit he'd decided to wear for the rest of the day was white as well and showed more than a little cleavage. He might as well flaunt it while he had it. Clothing purchased, he turned to Gwyn. "That should do for now. I suppose you have some idea or suggestion of what we should do next?" Roland was conserving most of his energy by trying not to be in a foul mood over the whole thing so whatever activities they did would have to be left in Gwyn's hands. "All I ask is that it's suitably distracting."

[gwyndolence]

Ah. There were the warning signs. Gwyn blinked and sat up straight again as the dragon bolted to his feet, but he didn't move to stop him. There was only so far Ransom could go, after all. "I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to, my darling," He said finally, slowly slipping his bare feet off the sofa as he watched the dragon's profile with an intrigue no lessened by Ransom's outburst, "And you're hardly about to shoot me, either." Nor could the other muscle him around the way he had when first they'd met, which was honestly a shame in Gwyn's eyes. But the sith was no de Luca, which from what he'd heard in the rumors united the two men Ransom had gone for. A curious connection. He wanted very badly to ask more, despite the fury radiating off of the set of Ransom's shoulders and his clenched fists.

"Is all conversation going to be at an impasse with us for now?" Gwyn hummed, standing, "I supposed it can't be helped. There are other options." He circled carefully around the taller man, catching Ransom's eyes with a guileless smile as he came in front of him. Perhaps a good old dose of faerie honesty was in order. "I did think about taking you to bed when I called you up here, but I won't be offended if your head isn't on right for it." Gwyn's own head tipped, "Or is it fighting you want instead?"

"There's no story beyond what you heard." Ransom's words clipped with rage at both himself and the situation. He shifted is gaze to the cup that was now in front of him like he could blow it apart with his glare not wanting to meet the curious gaze of the master next to him because he was that. A master, uncollared, the relationship between them wasn't the same as it had been so many months ago when they last interacted. His leg bounced with his frustration at everything that kept growing and growing, like the ringing in his head that seemed to always be present lately.

He was back on his feet in a second feeling like he was going to suffocate if he sat there any longer or throw the fucking table as it, like everything, was just another object adding to his ire. "I'm done talking about this." He balled his hands into fists tightening them until his fingers threatened to break under their own pressure and released them.

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn went flush with heat to see the hunger in the hellhound's eyes as Bastion bared him, utterly pleased with himself as he settled his leg over the other's shoulders once more. He was already well on his way to fully hard before the slave was mouthing at him, letting out a soft sigh of encouragement as he crept a hand into Bastion's thick, dark hair, twisting his fingers in it and tugging slightly when his cock was finally bared. "Careful, sweetheart," He cooed with a shiver of delight as Bastion took him into his mouth, "You'll open your lip again if you get too hungry on me." As if the sith wouldn't be delighted by that. Once Bastion really got into his pace, Gwyn let his head fall back against the bed with an eager moan, hips pressing up into that tantalizing heat, his other hand joining the first tangling in Bastion's locks. How could he not be excited having such a big man working with such enthusiasm for his pleasure?

Once he was given permission, Bastion wasted no time. He undid the fly of Gwyn's trousers and as soon as he pulled them down, his gaze got impossibly starving to see the red lace. He tugged off Gwyn's pants and tossed them away carelessly, not once taking his eyes off his underthings and what lay beneath. A big hand came up and stroked over the master's thigh as Bastion leaned in and mouthed at Gwyn's cock through his undergarments. He groaned like a man starving and turned his head to slide his lips up the seam of where his thigh met his groin, kissing along the line as he pulled those lacy little underwear to the side. Why take them off when Gwyn looked so pretty in them?

He licked at the tip of Gwyn's cock first, then suckled it into his warm mouth. His blue eyes went half-lidded in pleasure as he took more and more, bobbing his head up and down tantalizingly.

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn tittered at the nameless allusion to Raphael, a certain glow in the sith's eyes as he thought of the source of his current trouble. Dormant trouble, it was, but he was clever enough to know certain loose ends were worth tying off. He wondered if this handsome stranger might be helpful in that regard. "I won't say a word to him about you, cross my heart." He held his smoking hand up as if saying a pledge, making the appropriate crossing gesture over his chest with the opposite. For a faerie, it was as good as an oath. He wanted this one to trust him, after all.

"You can't catch what I haven't pitched yet," The sith replied with an inviting smile, leaning back against the wall, a few inches closer to the new bouncer, "Call me Gwyn, sweetness, or whatever you like. I'm flexible." In more ways than one. "You aren't the violent type then, are you?" He mused, not having missed the discomfort in the other's expression. "Funny position to be in if that's the case. But I suppose you only have to stand around and look intimidating and your job is mostly done, isn't it?"

Cyril couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or genuine, but he cracked a smile again nonetheless. It felt polite to do. "I suppose so. Don't tell my boss that though, he might give me some random tasks to disrupt my peace," He didn't actually think he would, but he thought it would be an amusing image. He took another drag from his cigarette, holding it between his index and thumb, using the hold to move it back and forth like he was fidgeting.

His brow quirked up at his question, the specific part of cracking heads making him inwardly cringe. Cyril didn't like violence, he had had enough of it in his life, had finished that life with his own violence that even now left a bad taste in his mouth. He certainly didn't want to do anything physical besides dragging out anyone who was causing a disturbance. "Uh, no. Not yet. Hopefully they'll save that for when i'm not clocked in," He let out a laugh, a bit dry unintentionally, "Haven't had to do much besides take some drunk souls out to the road. Think they were too wasted to even do any damage if they wanted to." Another drag, then a pause, "I don't think I caught your name..?"

[gwyndolence]

How was Gwyn supposed to ignore a plea like that? Briar looked a glorious mess but there would be time to savor his conquest later, now all Gwyn cared about was giving the Seelie exactly what he was asking for (or, conveniently, what the sith had decided that was). He pinned Briar's head to the bed by his curls as he followed through on the pull closer to crash his lips into the other's mouth again, far too hungrily to be deemed a real kiss, more an exchange of gasps and moans and teeth while Gwyn fucked the pretty thing through his orgasm, rapidly careening towards his own. Even the way Briar's body tightened around him seemed to be a plea.

For all the roughness of their coupling, the sith's peak hit him like pure euphoria, honey pouring through his limbs warm and golden, like the taste of the other's blood still lingering on his tongue. That devouring pace of his hips slowed with each wave, still thrusting deep and steady even after he'd finished filling the Seelie with his seed, humming in deep satisfaction against Briar's cheek before his lips dragged down his neck, gently sucking and nipping at the smooth, pale skin. Each movement was decadently easy now, slick and hot, Briar's walls like silk bound around him. "Perfect, darling," Gwyn murmured, a lazy grin stretching across his face. The afterglow was no less potent than the initial driving lust had been. He lifted his head enough to let Briar watch him lap up the mess of mingled blood and come from his fingers, eyes sparkling teasingly as they met the slave's. "Mm. You are sweet there."

He whimpered at his question, eyes wide and hazed over from the multiple orgasms he had lost count of, head moving ever so slightly in a nod. "Y-You can taste me," His voice was shaking from pleasure and the dull stinging of the wounds on his chest that were slowly healing over now. Briar almost wished the collar was still on, to let him bleed a little longer, let Gwyn feed until he was satisfied so he could watch in twisted fascination. Any worry of the castle corrupting him to throwing away his self-respect would be handled after the spell wore off. He couldn't be bothered now.

The hand in his hair had his head leaning back into it instinctively as if he was pulling on it, mouth falling open into a relieved moan as he finally started fucking into him again. As hot as watching him drink from him was, the fae was desperate for friction, he needed it with how hot the spell made his body feel. His hips stuttered then stilled as the sith's hand wrapped around his aching length, stuck not knowing whether to push up or down when both felt so good. He couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, and as if he had said his name again, when he told him to come the seelie was letting out a choked sob from overwhelming pleasure as he spilled onto both their chests. His seed mixed in with the blood coating his pale skin, a mess that Briar only arched into more as his body trembled with from the aftershocks, walls twitching from oversensitivity around the master's cock. "Fuck- holy shit, please," He wasn't even sure what he was begging for now, but his arms were wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer anyways.

[gwyndolence]

Whatever Gwyn had expected, it wasn't this rather gallant show of attempted foreplay from this particular man. Morozov seemed the type to shove in first and ask questions later, but the sith wasn't about to complain in the slightest. There was the shocking tease of the talon at his hole that had him whimpering even if he stayed perfectly still against the wall, then the press of fingers instead, tugging at his rim and sending sparks of hot sensation tingling up his spine. Only once the dragon's hand left him again did Gwyn squirm a bit in impatience, craning his head over his shoulder to try and catch the other's movement.

"Go on, darling, I'm not- oh!" There was the shove. Gwyn keened to be so suddenly and thoroughly filled, claws digging into the brick at the dull pain of Morozov's teeth as his eyes screwed shut. There was a slight quiver in his knees as the dragon held him there for what felt like an eternity, hole clenching uselessly around the intrusion, the movement only serving to make him feel that much more huge inside of him. It was delicious. Gwyn's arms failed him as the officer finally started to fuck him in earnest, cheek and chest pressing to the wall as he moaned out his encouragement with each thrust, still precarious on his heels. Amidst the whirl of lust and adrenaline was a bright ember of victorious self-satisfaction, the hint of a laugh in each sound that Ransom punched out of him that the sith had gotten exactly what he'd wanted.

Ransom felt master give into him and it was as much about that as anything else. He was a cop after all. Once the talon was wet to his desire he pulled it from the warm wet threshold and moved it down between the soft half globes using the tapered end to ease in before it shifted back to his finger wall aware of the damage he could do with something like that. He pushed past the tight ring of muscle stretching the sith adding a second before he got too eager. His few times with Finn gave him some ideas of what he had to do as he. Using precum and spit he wet his cock as much as he had the patience for, which surprisingly was more than expected for Ransom, before he was lining himself up and pushing inside the smaller form.

It was nothing against his ex wife, but the sex he'd had at krovs was something else. Maybe because it was so unexpected. His hand gripped the thin hip pulling the master back against him and he pushed forward and he growled lowly dipping his head to bite on the sith's collarbone at the way the other's ass gripped him so tightly. "Fuck." He finally breathed knowing he wasn't going to lose his seed all over the other's inside before he got into his first few thrusts. Finally able to trust himself he started to move with purpose in the half pinned form he should have been arresting and yet somehow was fucking against the side of a building.

[gwyndolence]

"It's vanished now that you aren't pouting anymore," Gwyn grinned as he scooted aside to make room, knees bumping as Khion settled in beside him. As ever, the pamola was too observant for his own good. Gwyn hemmed and hawed for a moment, twisting on the branch so he could lay back and stretch his legs out over Khion's lap. There was not a pinch of fear to him at the precariousness of the position. "Maybe just a little. Roland will give me a proper walloping with words once he corners me for not wearing the right thing, in his eyes. He loves the fashion gets all fiddly like this." He giggled, taking in more of Khion's attire. "Where's your blouse under that, darling? If you put us together, we'd make one whole acceptable outfit."

"What kicked puppy look?" Khion inquired. He easily hopped on up into the tree with some enhanced strength powering his jump and got comfortable next to his old friend. "Why are you observing the party from high up in a tree? Seems like you're hiding."

[gwyndolence]

Gwyn tutted, shaking his head to hear the officer wasn't having a good time. "No, you don't strike me as the mixer sort," He remarked, still half-smiling. That wasn't a full fledged laugh he got out of Kaden, but it was a decent start. "Just making sure I have my story straight," Gwyn hummed, "But while you're here, I wouldn't mind doing a little asking." He popped his straw back into his glass, stirring idly. "What's the story with our dear dragon and signore de Luca, anyhow? The councilman jumped on him so fast there was barely time for anyone else to get so much as a sniff. Does Raph just have a type?"

Kaden's features hardly changed at all while Gwyn talked, the sith sharing nothing that he didn't already know. Apparently this chatty little creature paid attention to some degree, though the way he rambled barely expressed any sense of order behind those thoughts. Or he just liked hearing himself talk.

"I'm not," he answered simply and brought his glass up to his lips again. The mention of his former boss managed to draw an amused snort from the kresnik. Entertaining wasn't an adjective used with Ransom or himself. "Are you askin' me about Morozov or tellin' me? You've met him, seems we both know that answer."

[gwyndolence]

"Ten years?!" Gwyn sounded next to horrified, "Not even so much as a bit of heavy cream in your coffee? You're wounding me with these revelations, darling!" He'd already emptied out his bag of various eye pencils and powders onto the duvet before Briar had arrived, and his hand went questing into the pile as he shook his head, sighing and arriving at a smile again inevitably. "To answer your question: yes, of course it means more than alcohol. I think that particular philosophy should encompass everything in your life. Clothing, music, perfume, what kind of pillow you prefer! Your favorite way to greet a lover..." Gwyn's smile went a little crooked, fingers gentle under Briar's chin to make the Seelie lift it as he peered at his eyes. "Habit is quite comfortable and lovely to luxuriate in. But you don't know what you're missing until you've tried it all. However do you expect to get to know yourself if you aren't asking him questions?"

The mention of a fiancé had Gwyn's eyes glittering, but he did nothing but hum thoughtfully. "Such pretty brown eyes you have. Let's make you match your adornments... a bit of gold right in the corners will do it, I think. Close your eyes for me." He leaned in with a small, precise brush when Briar obeyed, voice warm and softening to a more intimate pitch while he dusted on the makeup, "You're far too graceful not to have a dancer hidden inside of you, dear Briar. And you've never had me for a teacher before." He took a moment just to look at him, admiring those pretty features while the Seelie wasn't looking back. "Do you trust me?"

Briar's hand shifted out slightly as Gwyn went to fill his glass again, looking up at the sith from his seat on the bed with raised brows. "Right, trying everything. I assume that you're referring to more than alcohol when you say that?" Briar, though he claimed to be adventurous, truly just liked to sit in his comfort zone. It was something that proved to be an obstacle being brought here. As he was told to just sip he did, slow and careful not to spill before lowering it again. "Shots? Oh I don't think I can, I haven't been drunk in like ten years," He really didn't drink much before that anyway, but he wasn't really ready to find out what he'd be like completely uninhibited and interacting with the people of the castle.

The seelie huffed as if he was offended by the master's question, giving his head a confident shake. God no- I would never. The guards would take them away anyway, and I much prefer to make my own jewelry." He blinked as Gwyn continued to suggest more jewelry before disappearing and reappearing with matching gold bangles. Briar let him slide them over his wrists, lips pursed slightly as he suddenly felt flashy. He had never been one to show off this much jewelry that was so.. expensive. His eyes followed the other as he settled back onto the bed, brows rising slightly as he suddenly felt like he was on an examine table. He shrugged, "My fiancé tried to teach me a few times, but I seriously think I was just born lacking the talent."

[gwyndolence]

Kaden's expression wasn't exactly encouraging, but that had never stopped Gwyn before. "Neither? How enlightening." He smiled up at him guilelessly, "I'll assume you're here to enhance the scenery then, sparing any further elaboration." Were there simply no talkative police officers out in the world? He pivoted his body towards the kresnik's, abandoning any pretense of not being there for Kaden specifically. "Oh, yes, I'm enjoying myself immensely. Are you? I'm nearly surprised to see you here with how busy things must be downtown. I would congratulate you on your promotion, if not for the circumstances surrounding it. Officer Morozov was your predecessor, was he not? A very entertaining fellow." Gwyn paused to take a sip of his drink, gaze fixed and curious on the elder's face as he did so, inviting Kaden's commentary.

Kaden's gaze didn't immediately shift to the not very sneaky sith suddenly beside him. Not a whole lot surprised the divination expert. He swirled his glass of whiskey, ice clinking as he brought it up to his lips, and only when Gwyn spoke did those green eyes shift to look at him out of the corner. His head followed so he could get a good look and knew immediately who this was. They hadn't interacted or met properly before but Ransom's well-organized files on castle residents told him enough. Gwyn Caolan, master, around 200-something years old, baobhan sith. His eyes narrowed some and he wrinkled his nose. He and faeries had a complicated relationship since the Second War that might've birthed a negative bias towards the species.

"Neither," he answered. He crossed his arms over his chest, his near empty whiskey glass still free for drinking at his convenience. "Enjoyin' your evenin', Caolan?"

[gwyndolence]

for @garethbradbury

Staying out of Roland's way only meant Gwyn got a great view of one example of why he wasn't keen to catch his sire's attention any further - and what incredible entertainment it was. The sith had already planned to pick at the brain of Bradley's beau that night, but after such a display he knew there was no chance he could let the ball go by without organizing an encounter with the aswang. If he got a little distracted with Gareth's boy while he knew the other master was busy with Roland, that was no crime. But Gwyn always got his way eventually and by the time the sun was setting, he had the other firmly back in his sights.

"Someone got a chewing out, didn't they?" The sith chimed up, friendly from step one without so much as a greeting. He leaned back against the wall with his cocktail cupped in both hands in front of his face, grinning up at the aswang. "Let me guess... Roland took offense to the state of your boots? Stained cuffs? Or -- oh! I think I have it. He wasn't nagging about you at all, was he?" Poor, poor Finnegan...