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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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Oh, that's very nice, too. [whiskey has a lot of flavor compared to vodka, but the burn of it is appealing to Marina. That really clears the mind.]
It made me suspicious, that letter. He was practicing blood magic in that church. So many of those rituals... They require the blood sacrifice of someone who loves you. If he had anybody like that, it was my mother.
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It's called an old-fashioned. Surprised you care for it, but maybe I'm just very good at mixing. [He says it a tad wryly, but lets her go back to explaining.
It would make sense, if that is indeed how blood magic works. From Daan's very brief understanding of it, all he knows is that it contains some manner of sacrifice, but beyond that he admittedly has no idea. Marina is more educated to know.]
I'm sorry, Marina. [Daan is voice is a bit softer.] Not really about your father specifically, of course. I'm... all too familiar with shitty parents. But your mother... well. I can only imagine losing someone who really loved you...
[Daan trails off for a moment before he continues.] I can see why you made that conclusion. I can't see a reason to particularly argue it.
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Not to diminish you. Sorry. You made it with care. It would be good no matter what.
[A swirl of the drink before she passes it back to him, not wanting to rob him of what he made for himself. She puts an elbow on the table and leans into her hand, looking to the "window". It is convincing, having real depth to it. Can fool her sometimes, if she lets it. Nice to think they aren't in a gilded cage, that there is a world beyond the resort. She can suspend her disbelief.]
Won't ever know now. Whatever ritual he did must have failed- or killed him long before I got there. Judging from that flesh pillar. I just... have to grant my own closure, huh?
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[No harm done, and he means that.
Daan considers a moment. Once again, he is quietly impressed by Marina's strength, her resilience; to just be willing to let go of the questions she may never have answers to. As for him, Daan can't, he just can't. It kills him not knowing the truth about Elise, especially after the things they experienced in Prehevil.
If only he could have half of Marina's strength.]
...If it helps you move on. You deserve happiness, Marina. Here, if that's what you want, or wherever. You're your own woman.
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Before she can sit, Marina jolts slightly in place from a surprise knock at the door. R, right. Room service.]
Let me get it! You sit tight. [She's already up! Marina twirls again and scampers over to the door to field the staffer pushing a tray in. He's shooed away and she'll close the door, pushing the food cart the rest of the way to their little table, throwing herself back into the seat]
I just realized how hungry I am. What is a beef welltown? [she can't remember quite what he called it]
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Daan definitely has an assortment of liquor at their disposal, a nice gift that Cloud had helped purchase for him when he promised to make him cocktails. So, really, he can make a number of things for her, but another time. Maybe when they have something to celebrate, for a nice change of pace.
The knock earns his attention, but he stays seated at Marina's insistence. He's eyeing the cart with a hint of excitement; he's been looking forward to this all night.]
Beef wellington. It's a tender cut of beef that's been seared and slowly roasted, wrapped in minced mushroom, prosciutto, and pastry. This should also come with a gravy and roasted potatoes. I probably should have gotten us some kind of vegetable as a balanced meal but... fuck it, honestly.
[Daan removes the lid, revealing their plates with a curl of a smile. Fuck, that smells good. He puts one plate down before Marina, and the other to himself.]
We'll see how you like the taste of the rich bastards of Rondon, hm?
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Oh, how posh, indeed! [but her eyes are bright to be served a plate for herself, not sure what to even pluck up with her fork first.
While she considers that, she pours some straight whiskey into her... martini glass. It looks funny, but a glass is a glass! It does it's job no matter what is most proper.]
Prehevil had awful food, even when it wasn't wartime hell. Vatican City was much better for cuisine, at least, when we weren't on rations. [she takes of sip of that pure whiskey and it sends a shiver through her and back up. Oh, without the ice, sugar syrup, bitters, and cherry on that it is definitely not so enjoyable to her! She coughs lightly away from the food.]
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[He can't help but crack a little smile at the reaction she has to just plain, straight whiskey.]
Here now. You eat a bit, and I'll make us both an old-fashioned, hm? [Daan tops off his own glass, then takes the whiskey she's poured for herself so he can step away to do some mixing. It's his favored drink, and frankly he's glad to make it again for himself, and to share with Marina.
He returns, even if it feels like a sin to present it in a martini glass for Marina, but he's put in a garnish of a maraschino cherry.]
See if that's more to your liking.
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She does as he says, cutting a piece of meat for herself, sure to get the pastry along with it. No gravy to start off, she'll try it with that later. The meat is so tender! Juicy and red! Not stodgy or tough like it would so often get cooked at home.
It goes in her mouth and practically melts. Her eyes are wide at it, oh...]
Mmm!! Mm, mm, mm..! Daahn- [oops, her mouth is full- she chews and swallows behind a hand. Her feet kick beneath the table. The picture of a contented girl,] -that's so good..!
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[Years of training and being molded prepares Daan as he delicately cuts into his, but he watches Marina fondly as she digs in. Honestly, he doesn't really care about her lack of manners, and he's more just honestly glad she's enjoying herself.]
You can see why this ended up as one of my favorite meals, then. There's nothing quite like it. Most other meats are like tough old fucking boots in how they're prepared. [or they were just insanely unlucky, but y'know]
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Right, Daan made her a new drink. She sips the old fashion and that's get an approving nods.]
That's better, more sweet! [-Oh, hmm... there's a moment of realization that seems to wash over her. An uncommon self consciousness for the confident Marina Domek. Her face flushes, like she's been caught out by herself. She eyes Daan like she fully expects him to make fun of her, tease her for seeming childish again. Like most people in Europa, she had to grow up too fast. It does embarrass her when it shows.]
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Let her enjoy herself to her fullest.]
So you prefer sweet things. Noted. [That's as far as he gets to teasing her, and his smile is fond.] There are a number of cocktails that are incredibly sweet. I made one for Cloud that can taste like chocolate cake, so we'll have to try that with you sometime.
...Personally, I find sweet things a bit overwhelming, but I assume that's because I didn't have any of that until I tried it when I was-- what, 18? Something like that. It was too much for me. So I need to pair it with something else, usually.
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He's sweet. He's sweet to her. She recognizes and appreciates that, letting her suddenly manifested guard back down. It comes and goes, a moment a vulnerability where she braces herself for hurt. Yet, here, it doesn't happen.
Marina just listens to him talk, passing through the moment with his odd, yet caring grace. What a cool guy.]
Oh, that sounds like a dessert. Something for after dinner. [Cloud, though,]
Are things still good with him? He likes you. [emphasized with the weight only a teenage girl can imbue that word with] You should have seen the look on his face when I called you for breakfast.
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[Right. Daan can't blame her for asking, he brought up Cloud first. There's a pause, and he sets down his silverware.]
...We caught up later in the evening. He took me out.
Trust me, I've picked up pretty strongly how he feels. That is not a subtle man. [And, really, Daan wants to let himself like him back, but...]
I should cure him of that.
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Are you sick of him?
[Daan sounded so smitten last time. Then brought him up unprompted. There's something sad about that to Marina, she hopes he'll say no.]
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What--? No. Not-- no.
...I do... I do like him. He's an odd man, but he's also kind and says to me constantly how he would protect me. Hell, who wouldn't swoon a bit about that?
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She would not want Artemy cured of liking her back. So. Hmmmm.
She looks at him more skeptical than ever. What is your deal, Daan?]
Don't ruin it for yourself. If you really like him. I forbid you being stupid.
[... as if she has any say in the matter]
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[Daan sighs softly, closing his eye for a moment. How can he explain succinctly what kind of person he is? Throughout his entire life, there's been little worth, and only Elise could spare any love for him. There must be something wrong about Daan, after all; he had to work hard for her, for everything.
Why doesn't it feel like enough?He looks out that fake window, the view convincing. A facsimile, not unlike the doctor without an actual degree.]
I can't do that to him. Cloud deserves more than what I can offer him.
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What's he got to offer you, hmm? Affection and protection? And you have... generosity and cleverness! Brawn and brain. [she swallows her food, washing it down with another sip]
I think you're a good match! And you look good together. What more do you want, old man?
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[Really, he knows she means well, but his heart sinks to think about it. It'd feel like lying to Cloud, drawing him into false expectations. Even with everything so very, very wrong with Daan, there's even the aspect of his fate. How does he even begin to talk about that, too?]
...I was married. My wife, she-- she's gone now, but still, there's... [Daan's fingers grip his glass harder.] Where do I even begin with all that?
Elise knew everything about what happened, what I... had to do. And she still said "yes" to me. Somehow in our fucked up world, she married me.
[And she's gone now. Whenever he gets to telling Cloud everything, he feels like he knows what will happen. He knows.]
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Oh. She doesn't says it. Just mouths it silently.
Somehow widower wasn't what she'd ever picked up from Daan. There's a humbling feeling to that. Marina is usually so proud of her read on people, but here she's completely taken by surprise. Which sets her more down to level, grasping at the situation Daan is in. How much more difficult this all must be to accept. Everything in his past is really stacked against him here, isn't it?]
I'm sorry, Daan. [that first, no excuses. Ignorant or not, it was cruel to go on like that. She doesn't ever want to lose sight of caring about people. She's sorry to act that way and she's sorry for what happened, whatever happened, to his wife.]
I want to know what happened, but... you don't have to say. If you're not ready to talk about it.
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[Genuinely, Daan isn't even mad at her. How could Marina have expected it, when Daan did his best to conceal himself? Yet, bit by bit, he's cautiously becoming more vulnerable before her. Marina wasn't... amused at his history with the Sylvian cult and his parents, and he still isn't sure how to process all of that.
He shakes his head before he finishes his glass.]
...No. I said I'd tell you why I went to Prehevil, after all. You're just gonna have to bear with me, because I don't really know how to explain... all of it. Because I don't have all the answers. [A sigh, but he steels himself to explain.]
I, like a lot of men, was drafted into the war. I'm the lucky one that became a field medic instead of a soldier. [Daan shakes his head. He won't get into the war. Somehow, that's ended up the least of his problems despite the horrors he saw there too.] I got letters for awhile from her. Eventually... the letters stopped. I hoped that maybe they were just lost, as these things can happen.
When the war ended and I got home... [Daan frowns to himself, taking his glass of old-fashioned. He has a deep drink.] The manor was empty. No one was there, not even the maids. I searched and searched, until I went to the basement. There, in a ritual circle I did not recognize was Elise's body.
I tried to... fix it. [With a scowl, he traces his fingers idly over the edges of his eyepatch.] But it was too long. ...Dead, too long.
I wish I could say that was the worst part.
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[Marina can't imagine loving someone that much. Or being loved that much.
She knows what Daan's magic takes, the self sacrifice required and his willingness to do so. That he rubs along his missing eye says everything it needs to her. Something he gave that Sylvian did not give him back, her whims known to be capricious and arbitrary.
She pushes their used plates aside and puts her hands forward towards him on the table. If he wants to reach out and take them, she'll gently hold his hand, rub his fingers and knuckles slowly as they speak. If he's not feeling touchy, they are not so shoved towards him as to be presumptuous. An offer of comfort, not a demand towards him.]
Is the worst part what put you on that train?
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[The offer earns a hesitant glance, but he does eventually take Marina's hands. Her comfort is strange to him, when he expects the opposite every time. Should he be allowed to like this?]
Ha, no. No no, the worst part is in Prehevil.
I scoured the manor for some explanation as to what happened. The ritual circle looked like nothing I knew. Eventually, I discovered my mentor's notes mentioning Prehevil. I didn't have any other leads, so that's why I got on the train.
In those... moldy apartments where Olivia and you found me, I was by that sigil on the floor. I still remember it. It's the same one that was in the basement.
[Daan's hands tighten.] It still gets worse. [There's a grimace on his face.]
Do you recall the woman covered in stitches we fought in one of the bunkers? Olivia asked me to do a diagnosis on her after we managed to win.
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When he goes on, she recalls each moment in detail. She would hate to be back there again, but feels safe to reexamine those memories with Daan to hold onto. Can't hurt them now-]
It was in the church basement, also, wasn't it? Where my father was doing blood rituals. Where the effigy was placed. [they're more connected than she could ever realize, aren't they? Her stomach sinks to depths she didn't know it could. Did her father have something to do with- no, no, how could he? So far off from Rondon, he had no business there-
She swallows nothing to consider also that disturbing bunker. The writhing masses of bodies. Not unlike what she's heard of Sylvian's most swept away followers, but sewn into their fate more than merely melded to it. The woman they fought- Terrifying, kind of beautiful, that's the wrong thing to think, but...]
You did. I remember. Your face. [His face.
He didn't really say anything.
He just looked a way. Shell shocked. Like now.
Her hands squeeze his, shaking slightly, putting things together as she does. Too clever for her own good,]
Oh. Daan. No.
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cw: intense nausea
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