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mating season profile
28 / male / bisexual / 8♢
Details
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.
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.
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.
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.
I consider myself a flexible man, but I like someone with a quick wit.
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.
ISFJ-T
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[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.
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[ 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. ]
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[A pause.] ...Are you doing something right now?
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[ and then he perks up, because he knows where this is going. probably? ]
I can make time for you.
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[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.
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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. ]
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[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.
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[ 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?
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[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.
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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.
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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.]
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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…
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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.
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[ 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.
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[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.
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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.
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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.
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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. ]
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[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.
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[ 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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[Maybe it's also the unique nature of their relationship. How Daan can't help but be a bit more vulnerable to Cloud, and in return Cloud has said he feels more like himself. It's a precious thing, but he does also fear ruining eventually.]
Your mother... [Daan doesn't dig into that, not now. Losing a parent, regardless of one's relationship to them, is difficult, he thinks. For Daan, he'd been bitter and distressed, but for Cloud, well, that's probably a topic left alone for now.] Do you miss the stew? That might be hard for you to tell, if it was that long ago. [and like also your memory issues but y'know
When Cloud says the name of the dish, Daan nods in confirmation to his pronunciation.]
Pan seared duck with the blackberry sauce for me. Might we pair it with a recommended wine as well? My thanks.
ignore how weirdly long this tag is
…Makes sense. [ and then finally, as if rolling the word around in his mouth. ] Thanks.
[ even though daan isn’t asking about it, there’s a part of him that picks up on the unspoken compassion, the echo of curiosity. at that question— his mind searches for the memory, trespassing through fields of white, of pure emptiness. somewhere, somehow, he locates it: the sight of his mother’s delicate hands clasped around a bowl, the golden brown of the gravy, the rich umami flavor and tender carrots. for a moment, he looks visibly conflicted, the grief softening his features. ]
…She was a good person. She… [ he gets caught up in his own ghost of a memory, and stutters out— ] She didn’t deserve to die like that…
[ in the most painful way a person possibly could.
“come on. stop thinking about it. you’re having a good time, focus on him! ]
…I do miss it. [ he admits with some resignation, settling back into himself. ] It’s the last thing I remember eating, I guess.
[ even though it’s been years. any of the food that came after, he can hardly remember except— ]
Burgers and fries. [ his head shoots up all of a sudden. that’s right, he had burgers and fries! but even the thought of that makes him chase after something, a memory he can’t parse— ]
Yeah, I remember eating them a lot. [ a beat. ] Maybe… with someone else. [ he clears his throat. ] There were… lots of people in my life. So it’s hard to keep track. [ he lies, blatantly.
but then he’s distracted— by daan’s poise. he leans back into his seat, defeated, a little goofy looking. there’s awe there. ]
…It’s like you’re the one paying. [ he says with an air of wit. ] You’re too good at this.
i will gladly eat it up, it is a good tag
Daan reaches out, offering his hand. No demands, but it is there, if Cloud desires it. Less shy now, less hesitant.]
You've remembered something else. [He says it, pleased and proud. Such things must be hard to recall through the haze of whatever Cloud has had to endure in his life.] I'm sure more things will come more naturally with time.
[There's a faint, wry smile on Daan's face.] Good at ordering food at a fancy restaurant? Only because I was basically trained into this. My mentor was a diligent teacher, you could say. If I was going to be a doctor with his recommendation, I'd have to know how to carry myself.
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I... I didn't forget... I just-- I just don't think about it... [ he lies, his body betraying him through his grip on daan's hand. ] But... I owe you. For trying to understand. Most people... don't.
[ they made some haphazard attempt; but even people as kind as tifa were utterly vexed by his behavior, unsure of how to handle it. ]
No, good at talking. Carrying yourself. Saying the right things at the right times.
[ he couldn't do any of that, at all. ]
Must have been hard on you. That kind of pressure...
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Daan does think he's lying, but he doesn't try to call him out. Things like that can be embarrassing, and it isn't worth making Cloud more upset about it. Whatever traumas he's suffered through, it won't be resolved over a fancy dinner and some words. Gently, Daan rubs his thumb over the back of Cloud's hand.]
How lucky I am to not be most people. [Another thing he knows well of himself. Fitting in no were, never belonging. But right now, it could be a badge of honor if it means to do something right for Cloud.]
I wasn't easy. I'll admit that much, but as ever I told myself that if I wanted to survive in his world I would have to learn. I would have to improve myself.
And so here we are. Don't worry, I still know how to be a right bastard, too.
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holy shit once again this is a long fucking tag
gobbles it up
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