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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

[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?” ]

I suppose if someone can't relate to your situation, then that might be true. But that hasn't felt like the case at all for me.

[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.

[ he should thank him for that, but the words don’t quite trail off his tongue, suspended in his throat instead. he just— sits there, a little dumbfounded, always taken aback by his sympathy and understanding. ]

…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.

Edited 2024-01-24 18:56 (UTC)

[Though he hadn't asked, Cloud shares as much as he can freely. He wonders what it is like, to have a parent care for you that way. A hot meal, a roof over your head, knowing that you are loved. Only for it to be snatched away... he thinks that must be so much worse, than never being loved at all.

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.

[ daan's hand reaches out, and normally he would be too cold to accept the offer-- but loss ricochets against the constraints of his mind. he wants to take it. so he grits his teeth and he does, feeling the lines of his palm kissing his own, the soft brush of skin against skin. ]

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...

Edited (I CAN READ.) 2024-01-24 21:12 (UTC)

[It's careful, like the whisp of a breath that could snuff out a barely lit candle. But their hands touch anyway, cautious as anything, and he's glad Cloud takes it.

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.

Already told you, didn't I? [ his thumb presses up against daan's, a finnicky little gesture, as if trying to pursue more contact. ] There's... something special about you.

[ it was an embarrassing situation, and he made a fool of himself, but he meant it. ]

Not sure if it means anything, [ hesitation stalls him. ] but I think you're fine the way you are.

[ these are all things he thinks about people, sentiments he harbored-- but he had rarely thought to express them in this way. the words doesn't sound right coming out of his mouth, even though they were all true to who he is.

what an odd thing. ]

Yeah... I know. [ there's fondness in the way he says it. ] That part of you's fine, too.

Edited 2024-01-24 21:50 (UTC)

[Words hard to accept. Daan doesn't feel particularly special in that regard. Maybe an unusual man, to a degree, but special implies something good. And he doesn't feel like that.

But he isn't going to ruin this night by saying so.]

Well, it just so happens that I think the same of you.

Even when you're being prickly and thinking you're doing me a favor by it. [He says it in good humor.] Believe it or not, I find your company enjoyable.

[He knows that, too, is probably hard for Cloud to believe as well.]

You ever consider that I'm just a prick?

[ maybe daan was just too nice-- he entertains the idea, internalizes it a little even. cloud was naive in some ways, but more cynical than he was in others. daan was a paradox.

--but he was too. maybe that's why they had meshed so well together.

his heart beats a bit faster, the very sentiment of being enjoyable company to daan rattling around in his head. ]

I'm not used to being anyone's company. [ a beat, his fingers flexing. ] So... believe me when I say: I'm trying.

[ and then, more warmly: ]

But... it hasn't been so bad, I guess.

[ god, where is their food. he's going to sink into himself. ]

Well, sure, you can be. But you've also been very kind to me, so it's hard to ignore that part.

[Daan knows perfectly well that Cloud can be an asshole, and a stubborn one at that. Not that Daan has any room to talk.]

I'm sure you are. Suddenly flung into a place that demands socializing when you're used to fighting? That's a difficult change to ask.

I think you're doing well, though. ...Perhaps I'm biased, of course.

[rip in fuck cloud this isn't a jrpg they're gonna take more than two seconds to make food]

It was nothing. [ really — in his mind, it wasn’t. and half of it was his suit pushing him to the brink of honesty. ] Just doing what I want to do, doc.

[ this is agonizing it should take more than two seconds ]

Sometimes I think you’re too nice, even though you probably had to fight too. [ … ] But… thanks. I wouldn’t have come around if it weren’t for you.

I know. ...But for me, it's meaningful.

[It's the carnation, which he hopes to preserve. It's how much Cloud is compassionate with him. Perhaps they're simply novel to most people, but it means a lot to him.]

Well, it goes with me being an asshole where it counts. I know when to bite, I know when to talk.

Either way, I'm... glad I could do something for you.

[The food isn't here yet, but the waitress does return with a white wine, pouring them each a glass cheerfully before she leaves. It ain't the food, but it's something. Daan picks up his glass, gives it a sniff before he has a sip.]

Mm. A bit sweet, but it's nice.

[ he doesn’t say it — that he’s glad he could mean something to him at all. for someone so hellbent on not forming attachments, he was awfully prone to developing them, always wanting to be noticed by people in his own ways. ]

Yeah. You do. [ he’s felt that bite before. he can’t say he’s minded it. ] I think… you’ve probably done a lot for a lot of people. You just don’t realize it.

[ people like him never did. so caught up in their self sacrifice and altruism, they could never recognize the impact of what they did.

the white wine arrives as he’s thinking. it… looks like water. but it isn’t? he takes a pronounced drink, inhaling a gulp of it and—

holy shit, that’s bittersweet. it’s subtle and sharp and nothing like hard liquor at all. he swallows it down but his face is in mourning the whole time, like a toddler tasting lemon for the first time.

he’s just a country bumpkin, man. he can’t handle this level of refinement. ]

I’ve— [ he coughs. ] never tasted anything like that. In my life.

[Has he done a lot? It doesn't really feel like he's been that successful. There weren't enough lives rescued and restored during the war. And he certainly failed Elise where it mattered most.

But this is a nice evening, he stresses to himself. He will not ruin it.

Though Daan doesn't comment much more on the topic, he watches Cloud with a bit of surprise at his reaction. It does remind a bit of Daan's own first reaction at his first taste of wine; he couldn't understand the appeal, not until much later in his life. An acquired taste.]

You can drink shots like it's water and this is what bothers you. [He can't help but tease.] Just a small sip after you try your food. It might pair better that way.

And if you don't like it, you don't have to drink it, Cloud.

[ this is so humiliating. his face twitches slightly, blue eyes blinking. ]

My blood [ he huffs. ] …ain’t rich enough for this.

[ a hillbilly is a hillbilly. but he has an idea. ]

I can drink it. [ and then he cocks his head. ] But I might need your help.

[ and then points to his mouth. yeah, he’s suggesting they shotgun wine in the middle of a lavish restaurant. no, he has no class. ]

What do you think, doc?

What, and mine is?

[Daan says it wryly, but truly he doesn't judge. It's just a little fun to tease him.

There's a pause. That kind of suggestion, that behavior would be something he knows that his mentor would be appalled at, at least in presentation. Thus, it becomes something Daan certainly does want to do, propriety be damned. Besides, Daan's never been much into wearing his masks for long anyway.

He slides is chair closer to Cloud, smiling sharply.]

Give me your glass, and we'll see how you take to it.

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ignore how weirdly long this tag is

i will gladly eat it up, it is a good tag

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