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mating season profile

OPEN SEASON

@meow_wow
28 / male / bisexual / 8♢

About Photos Questions Personality Compatibility

Details

My Self-Summary

Back where I'm from, I was personally mentored by one of the best surgeons in the Kingdom of Rondon, who was a baron no less. Eventually, I also ended up serving as a combat medic for a war that just recently ended. As a result, I can't say I've had a lot of time exploring much in the way of hobbies, but I'll be glad to explore that kind of thing with people here. It's certainly much calmer by comparison.
My Future Plans

Difficult to say as we adjust to life in this resort, but right now I'm just interested in getting to know everyone else here and assuring we all have a pleasant time. I assure you, I'd like to see to it you have one.
My Talents

I used to work as a butler, so I have experiencing in mixing some pretty decent cocktails.

As much as I would love make people here a drink, I'd also enjoy showing how good I am with my hands. And, well, everything else, for the record.
Favorite Books, Movies, Music, and Food

Not much for books honestly; they put me to sleep better than any sedative. But I do like jazz and swing music, mystery films, and I favor beef wellingtons.
My Ideal Partner

I consider myself a flexible man, but I like someone with a quick wit.

Height 5'9" Body Type Lean, muscular Smokes Occasionally. Drinks Always a fan of an old-fashioned. Drugs No Sign Someone clarify this for me. Education I was personally mentored. Occupation Doctor Income Well right now that's questionable, isn't it. Children None Pets None Hobbies Mixing cocktails is pretty relaxing.

art credit: one. two. three. four. five.

01. WINE OR BEER
Wine.

.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES
Mimes, because at least they don't talk.

.03 SHOWER OR BATH
Bath.

.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS
Pirates, I guess.

.05 TITS OR ASS
Both.

.06 COFFEE OR TEA
Coffee.

.07 SPICY OR SWEET
Spicy. Never really got used to sweets.

.08 SUMMER OR WINTER
Summer.

.09 LEATHER OR LACE
Lace.

10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX
Both.

Personality Type
ISFJ-T

ENERGY
83%
introverted

MIND
87%
observant

NATURE
71%
feeling

TACTICS
72%
judging

IDENTITY
68%
turbulent

personality test. art credit.

hover for rating.

game 52

GAME 52

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You’re fine. Not really good in situations like that. The… boner didn’t help.

[ he didn’t want to make it obvious, either — that he’s attracted to him. that he thinks about him in that way. ]

…You’re going to make friends. [ he says, more gently. ] You won’t be alone again. I’m sure of that.

I doubt most people are exactly good in situations like that. Though I commend Marina for her confidence to enjoy herself; she deserves it.

...But you can come to me, and I won't be offended. I promise you that. If there is someone else you prefer, I'll understand that, too. Ultimately, I want you to know you have options. As you should.

[A wry little noise.] Sad, isn't it. All my life, I've focused on staying alive and trying to make something of myself. But I never had a single friend until Marina decided she was one not so long ago.

[Shouldn't he also be thinking of Elise as one? Yet that's not something he could ever rightly call her, either. But there should be some kind of crossing in the concept -- from friend to loved one. No, surely, it was just that things settled in right; Daan knew she captured his heart, and he was eager to give her everything.]

[ a sigh. ]

Reminds me of Aerith…

[ they both had their gremlins from home. ]

…You should… [ he’s gritting his teeth. he doesn’t like the idea of daan with other people more than he’d care to admit, but he knew the nature of this place — and that he was being a hypocritical child. ] have options too. But I’m… I’m here if you need something.

[ what he says next draws out a surprise from cloud. his voice quiets, and he breathes. ]

…I didn’t have friends until… [ his head hurts terribly. daan can likely hear his jaw tensing and grinding. ] Until… I met someone. My only friend…

[ there’s this undercurrent of sorrow — this grief. ]

…There’s— [ another beat. ] Nothing wrong with you. That was their loss, not yours. [ … ] I’m your friend.

I could see the two of them being awful menaces.

[too much chaotic power between them.]

Well. Then I guess that goes for both of us. ...Let me be reliable for you. And if I don't want to do something, I'll be honest.

[Though he struggles to consider that Cloud would ask him something that would disturb him that much.

There's a pause as he listens, acknowledging that this is a difficult subject for him. Ultimately, Daan relates; he couldn't afford to trust people, and learned quickly that he shouldn't. He couldn't even put all of is trust in Baron von Dutch, who was supposed to be his guardian and mentor. People are selfish and have self-interests; that isn't even something that makes Daan upset, it's just a fact with how the world works. People have to survive somehow.]

There's a lot wrong with me, Cloud. But we can argue about that another day. [He says that a bit wryly.] ...I'm honored and glad to be your friend. I mean that.

Got a headache at just the thought of it.

[ a nod of the head, a silent approval. ]

Deal. And I’ll kick your ass if you ever lie to me.

[ cloud’s fingers run through his hair. as they talk, he finds himself missing him; an odd feeling. ]

…Makes two of us. [ explains why their relationship is… the way it is. ] …Yeah. …Me too. I have your back, doc. That’s not gonna change.

[ he’d jump into his world and start beating ass if he had to. ]

I won't kick your ass, but I'll make you wish I did if you lie to me as well.

[Well. Now he kind of regrets leaving breakfast, but it seems like this was at least a constructive conversation. It's novel, he thinks, to speak like equals. Even with Elise, it was mostly him deferring to her. Which was fine, he argues to himself; shhe deserved the best, and who was he to argue?]

Not a lot stops you. [He sighs, but he's not bothered. Just fond.] But I'm grateful for you, all the same.

Yeah, yeah.

[ he admits more than he expects to in his presence, really. still— he sounds like he’s smiling through the speaker. ]

Glad you know that much. [ that was a point in his favor. “i’m grateful for you—“ makes cloud blush. so he did something right after all. ]

…I owe you. For… a lot.

[ he’s trying to hide it, too. the fact that he wants to see him. ]

Oh? Well, to me, it's more like we've done much for each other. No debts to be repaid, in my opinion.

[A pause.] ...Are you doing something right now?

We wouldn’t be talking like this if you didn’t start it a month back. So [ he clears his throat. ] Thanks.

[ and then he perks up, because he knows where this is going. probably? ]

I can make time for you.

It was worth my time.

[He means that; if anything, Daan is relieved that he's been a good experience sexually for Cloud and Marina both. They deserve to know that it can be good, under the right circumstances.]

I'd like that. I don't really know what I'd ask for, but I'd like to see you.

[ mentally, he's twiddling his fingers. he was never good at this kind of thing -- but it makes him...well, stupidly happy to hear that he wants to see him. that someone wants to be around him. ]

I'd say come over to my place, [ a beat. ] but yours is nicer. So...

[ he deliberates on it. ]

...I got the money for a nice dinner. You wanna go? [ that makes it sound like a date. somehow, the thought of that still flusters him despite the fact that they've literally been having sex. sheepishly-- ] ...I'll pay.

[ cloud strife, paying for someone else's dinner. absolutely unheard of. thanks five for the cash money. ]

I don't mind your room. It's really about your company, anyway.

[yo is this a date. Daan does even wonder about that briefly, but ultimately he brushes the idea off. Which is perhaps cruel; he knows that Cloud definitely harbors some big Feelings there, but...

He does like him, too.]

Sure. I'd like that.

Most people don’t want my company.

[ there were exceptions — aerith, jessie… but even their intentions were never clear to him. he’s never had anyone outright say they want him around before. there’s always a catch. ]

The Gilded Cage. 7 PM. I already said I’d foot the bill, so just get what you want.

[ he… has never had the means for this. but it’s different, now, and he can’t get it out of his head — the fact that daan was a butler. he deserves to be treated to something nice for a change. ]

Sound good to you?

How fortunate then that I'm not most people. It means I get more of your time.

[Honestly, he struggles to see it anyway. Cloud has been gentle with Daan, and compassionate. If anyone isn't deserving of it, it's someone like Daan, anyway.]

You're gonna spoil me, you know.

But it sounds good to me. Thank you, Cloud.

[ after hours of panicking and dealing with what is easily one of the worst women to ever be conceived, cloud does indeed get his shit together.

he stands outside of the restaurant--it's all gold treillage, the entire place varnished until it shines, the sing-song of glasses clattering against one another and the bustle of people talking occupying almost every particle of air.

he is completely out of his element. the last time he had come to anything close to this was corneo's, and that-- was still different. lacking in elegance, poise, intent--

he's never had to impress someone in this way in his life. so tufts of his blonde hair are slicked back behind his ear, giving more shape to the contours of his face, and he's dressed in a willowy, white poet shit that cuts down to his chest. it's accompanied by jet black slacks that cling to his body and boots that lace up at the knees.

he jolts at the sight of himself in the mirror. this was a different person. okay. he could do this. that was fine.

"you can be anyone you want to be, spikes. you just have to put in the effort."

when daan does arrive, his head turns up, snapping like a twig crushed underfoot. cloud idly scratches as his nose in some attempt to distract from the heat drawing into his cheeks, but it doesn't work very well. with all of the certainty he can muster, he gestures a flower towards him -- a red carnation, plucked straight from the garden. ]

...Hey. [ he starts. the usual greeting. ] It's... It's good to see you.

[Honestly, he hadn't expected for them to be doing anything different. It didn't even really occur to him that this could be a date ~~Daan has never been on dates, not in his life, who would have, he could barely afford to court Elise~~. He arrives, dressed in his usual manner as it is to his tastes, tailored clothing and a silk vest.

Then he sees Cloud, and hadn't immediately recognized him with the slick back hair. It doesn't look bad, even if he kind of misses how absurd it usually is, but it does also give him a good look of Cloud's pretty face. Someone else must have dressed him, he thinks, but he does look good.

The flower makes him blink, then he smiles warmly. It's boyish, bring presented with it, but it's also so immensely charming.

He's going to have to shatter this one day, and Daan will mourn it. Today, he takes the carnation delicately into his fingers.]

And you, Cloud. All dressed up just for me?

[Daan teases, but he's flattered.]

[ ugh. he could fluster — could stop in his tracks, red tainting his face as it always did, but there’s this small well of confidence brimming within him, this inability to care— ]

Yeah. [ he says firmly. ] I am.

[ and his gaze meets daan’s, rigid and resolute, before the hostess ushers them to their table. it’s intimidating, how much this place glitters and gleams — he feels like he doesn’t belong. but then his eyes cast back onto daan, latching onto him and him alone, and the discomfort dissipates into nothingness.

the menus are set down onto the table, and the waitress leaves them be. with a curt nod, his fingers curl around the one he’s been offered for purchase. ]

Never been to a place like this before. [ cloud admits, hesitance tugging at his features. ] Lived in the slums, so…

Edited 2024-01-24 01:36 (UTC)

[Oh. The honest response isn't what he expected, but it does make him glance aside almost shyly. Just for Daan, huh?

Once they settle at their table, it briefly makes him think of the lavish restaurants he became familiar with in the upper class of Rondon. Though he hasn't been born into it, he knows at least how to settle here, like a familiar pair of shoes. But he does tuck the carnation into the chest pocket of his vest, to keep it safe.]

Well, the nice thing is that you don't have anyone here you have to worry about impressing. [Daan smiles a bit coyly.] But I can relate. I didn't really start learning things about how to behave "properly" until I was 15.

Dunno. [ he leans into the cusp of his palm. ] The guy sitting across from me could end up thinking I’m a moron.

[ he’s joking — but he also isn’t. his eyes briefly scan the menu, unsure of what to make of it. ]

But you’re… [ he swallows a little. ] smart. You always know what to say…

[ unlike him, an uneducated country hick. ]

I can’t really imagine being a doctor.

I think you'll be fine. The guy in question was pretty charmed by your flower.

[The menu has some things he hasn't tried before, but also it's oddly familiar in a way. He hasn't decided if that's a good thing or not. Ah, but then, you never really did fit in with any crowd, did you my old friend? Forests, streets, or with those fat cats! But you always liked it that way. You like being different.

Daan breathes in slowly.]

What do you generally like out of a meal? I can help you pick something.

[Smart. Daan is pretty good at acting like it, anyway. Acting is half the job.] My education was a matter of luck. I didn't start learning to read until I was 15. [Daan shrugs.] And my mentor was impossible to impress.

In any case, you really don't have to worry about all that. Being a doctor is tough enough on its own; being a combat medic is arguably worse.

[ he doesn’t respond, but his eyes shine a little, clearly registering the fact that daan called him charming. falling back into old habits, cloud rubs at the back of his head to deflect.

eating. what did he like to eat? he didn’t really need to; he had so few memories of enjoying food. the last thing he can recall is…

a stew his mother made. his heart clenches, remembering for him. ]

I don’t…eat much. [ god, he sounds stupid right now. ] I haven’t tried much. So… I’ll have anything. If you say it’s good, I’ll take your word for it.

[ and then daan says that, and for a moment, cloud’s brows arch in surprise. ]

You’ve come a long way. And worked hard for it. [ and i think that’s worth being proud of. ] I… was from a backwater village, so school wasn’t… really a thing. And when I signed up for SOLDIER, they only taught me about combat, so…

[ his eyes flicker down. ]

There’s a lot I don’t know. [ less than other people do, for some reason. ] It feels like I learn something new everyday sometimes.

It's hard to make a better habit of it if you've never been given the opportunity. [He remembers the worst nights, how eating dirt was enough to keep him from starving but didn't do anything else other than that. Maybe he'd be lucky if he went through someone's garbage. When he started earning shillings, well... one gets very grateful for stale bread, even.

But those are old days, and he'd rather think about Cloud right now.]

I'll have a look and make some recommendations.

[There's a pause as he listens. A lot of him reminds Daan of Levi in those ways. Not that Levi had much of a choice about being an ordinary soldier, and it's all he knew for years. Child soldiers, unfortunately, did not shock Daan much, but it did appall him. He couldn't help but feel a bit protective of him in some ways, and quietly Daan hopes Levi is safe somewhere. That he didn't meet some horrible fate like Daan will one day.]

I'm sure they didn't see much reason to do more education than having some kind of weapon at their disposal. Not that it's a good thing, but that sort of thing isn't unusual.

...But it's never too late to learn more things. People always are learning, no matter what they think they know. And for some, it's never enough.

[ he listens attentively, even if he feels as if he has nothing worthwhile to contribute. daan was intelligent, thoughtful, kind in ways he wasn’t — always looking out for him, always taking care of him. it’s hard to not feel like the moron he said he was.

the thought of being a weapon makes his stomach stir, discomfort trickling beneath his skin. he doesn’t know why the concept makes him sick; like it’s set off a part of his brain he can’t turn off.

“don’t worry about it. just enjoy yourself, alright?”

right. more notably, daan makes him feel less stupid. less like a failure. the feeling is alien in every way possible, rushing straight to his heart. ]

Like I said, [ there’s some jest in his tone, but his words are sincere— ] you always know what to say.

[ shyly, he glances around, remembering where he is — and who he’s with… ]

Is there… [ a little sheepishly: ] something you don’t know anything about?

[ he can’t imagine it, really. daan knew so much of the world in ways cloud didn’t. ]

Well. I know a little bit of how you feel. Makes it easier to know what to say.

[The question earns a surprised look in his eye, then he smiles wryly. An expression he's finding easier to do, surprisingly, when he thought he'd only find misery in this damned place. But there are... nice things, for now. For once.]

I don't know what your favorite food is besides milk, so there's that. [He teases but honestly he just found that whole thing quite endearing.]

Let's have you try the chicken cordon bleu, hm? Nothing too outrageous.

Always thought I was hard to read…

[ he tries to be, but he also doesn’t. he isn’t completely oblivious to how weird he is. more importantly, whenever daan smiles like that, he has to fight the untenable urge to kiss him. ]

Ugh. [ he huffs like a child. ] Don’t eat enough to know what’s good… all I remember is…

My mom’s beef stew. [ he’s idly kicking his feet now without meaning to. ] That was a long time ago. Before she died.

[ before she got murdered, brutally, he should say but — he’s not about to ruin this for both of them. the waitress comes back around, a pep in her step and, he follows daan’s lead— ]

The, uh… [ … ] Chicken… cordon bleu?

[ he looks to daan as if asking “did i say that right?” ]

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