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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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[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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Mm. There too. I still don't know what it means.
[There's a slow nod of his head as Marina comes to the realization, Daan's eye shutting. He remembers it well, examining that body, not realizing right away. He had his usual sarcastic tone on, sounding indifferent until the horror set in as he knew. He knew it was her.]
Elise's father was also my mentor. My father-in-law. And somehow he was that clown that was stalking us everywhere. I don't know, Marina. I don't know anything about what happened, or why. I went to Prehevil for answers and just ended up with more damned questions.
...I just want some fucking closure.
cw: intense nausea
The hunger was worse. She holds it down. Her body simply won't let go when fed, now.
Her composure, however, isn't doing the best.P ure dread fills her, rushes through her veins. Her heart is pounding in all the wrong ways. She looks at him sick and scared. Scared for him-]
Daan, Daan- you can't go back there. Olivia... she didn't say you made it. She didn't tell me what happened to you. She would say if you were okay-
[Marina was told she made it, but what does that matter? Who gives a fuck about continuing to live in that fucking hell hole!? She doesn't know that Daan is already well aware of his fate,]
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[His voice is soft, his eye gazing down at their hands together.]
She told me when we met. ...To be honest, it's been hanging over my head, that knowledge that I'm on borrowed time. That's another reason why I can't just... be with Cloud. I'd be putting him in a spot where I don't even know how much longer I have until I'm that damned thing.
[Daan looks at Marina now, properly.]
Olivia thinks I get moonscorched. I didn't correct her, because I don't think what becomes of me is... quite that. Not that it's any better.
The Pocketcat will come for me, like he's done all of my life. This time, I take his deal, and he takes my body. I will... become him. Presumably in exchange for finding out what happened to my wife.
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Daan. Become Pocketcat. It took off her arm- It enjoyed doing it, even! They killed it- Stomped on it's still smiling corpse-]
That's- Shit-! [Her surprise turns into anger. She can hear the whirling in her ears. The vortex of rage that she should be hurting something. That cruel instinct of Old Gods she studied all her life, found so fixating and fascinating. The spell isn't actually casting, but she feels the emotion of it. The hatred and pain she needs to muster up to make it go. So easy for her, too easy-]
Stupid man- Why would you ever do that!? You're not a monster-! You are not that thing! [She barks and her hand so gently bundled up with Daan parts from him.
Marina grabs and pulls Daan's wrist like she's reprimanding him-]
2/2 formatting intentional
Her hands jolt away like Daan is on fire. Her expression goes for pure rage to terrified regret in a blink.]
Sorry. Daan, I'm so sorry. [She wants to cry. To scream.
Why can't she?
She's held back grief so long she doesn't know how to mourn. Not for her mother, not for Daan. All her talk of not following in her father's footsteps and here she is, realizing she killed some part of her humanity. Is that something she can ever get back?
Her hands shake as they pull back around her, clutching her arms, digging nails into the left one. Making sure it's still there. The rest of her is shaking after. She sounds very small.]
You are not that thing...
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The hand on his wrist earns a startled look in his eye, and he goes stiff, waiting for her to do something. It's awful, but it made him think of Baron von Dutch in one of his worst moods, the coldest he could be. But the moment is gone, and all that's left are their regrets.
Hesitantly, Daan reaches out, fingertips brushing Marina's hair from her face. The way he likes to show his affection for her.]
Want to sit next to me for a minute?
[His voice is calm and quiet, contemplative. Daan can't agree with her; Olivia wouldn't lie, after all.
One day, that will be him. One day, Daan will cease to be, and there's just going to be that fucking cat.]
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She tries again, like resetting the record will make it play correctly. Pain, suffering, terror, the greatest hits. It all hurts, aches, but why isn't it enough?
He smooths her hair from her face. She finally looks at him.
Grim humor escapes her, hollow and unamused,]
Doctor, I think there's something wrong with me.
[it's not funny.
The failure at levity tickles the back of her throat, she grinds her teeth. Humor isn't hiding the truth of that. She's unmasked. Helpless to sort out how she's feeling. Why she isn't feeling what she thinks- knows- she should be.
Why can't she express this grief in a way that matters to her or to anybody else? What did this to her? Who is to blame? Anger is easier to muster- She can't get angry. That makes her her worst self. She wants Daan to know how much she cares about him- That isn't how- The record scratches and resets.
Daan might need to tell her to lay down. She looks so lost.]
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You and me both.
[Honestly, who wasn't a little fucked up in their group somehow?]
Come on. Lay down for awhile. ...I know that was a lot.
[He's just more practiced at compartmentalizing it all.]
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[that she used those exact words to describe the Dark Priest her father was should give Daan some insight. Why she's shut down so hard, Marina's bold exuberance drained.
The hand cradling her face so tenderly seems to get through to her. She lets go of her own arms and reaches for Daan. Her arms wrap shakily around him, hug him for stability.
He's here. Daan. Her best friend. The moody doctor. Even in this haze of hollow emotion, there's a spark of how much she trusts him. She clings. He should reach out and carry her where she needs to go.]
Don't go anywhere. Stay with me. [for now and for after... as long as he can.
She won't make him promise.]
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[The words make their mark, and he feels somewhat aware now. The sudden sharp reminder of the baron by her reaction, it must have made her feel more like she took on a habit of her father.
Gently, he embraces her, giving her a moment before he's carefully lifting her up like a princess, taking her to bed to lay her down.]
Of course. You couldn't get rid of me at this point. You've completely doomed yourself to my company.
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Doomed.
[she echoes, but it's the first word where her tone is of peace and comfort.
If she can be doomed with Daan, she never wants salvation.]
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[Well. He's stuck like this now. Maybe it was a mistake to share everything like that with her; it's a lot to be burdened with, and he should know better than to burden others.
Nudging off his loafers, Daan arranges himself into bed with her, reaching to slowly pet her hair.]
I've got you.
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Daan offers a lot. His presence, his touch, his smell, his warmth. The sound of him breathing. It give her something to match, to anchor herself on. She very slowly relaxes her tensely held grip around him, but Marina isn't letting him go far. The young woman stays all night in the same position, scarcely adjusting aside from jolts awake where she checks he's still holding her. He is. He's got her.
When morning comes, Marina immediately feels so sore. Sprung tight muscles ache beneath skin like they got no rest and her head wakes foggy from the breakdown of her emotional state.
Terribly immature, her first impulsive thought is that she needs to run away. Before he can notice. She makes no effort to do so, but her instincts and pride scream this is a flight situation that she should exit from.]
cw: eye trauma mention, description of eye loss
Which is incredible, really.
Still, he wakes not long after her, clicking his tongue and muttering:] Ugh, didn't brush my teeth...
[Another facet of the nightmare of Prehevil: no bathing, and no brushing his teeth. Actually the worst for someone who has high hygienic standards. He frowns, his eyepatch crooked, and he peels it off and turns his head away, as if to spare Marina the sight of his missing eye; the eyelid has long since sunken in, after all. Hardly a pretty sight.]
...How are you feeling?
[Better than last night, he hopes.]
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That's sure Daan, through and through. There's a joke that Rondon men love to complain and he's especially good at it. Of course, his second action is something of consideration towards her, then a question of concern. That's Daan.
Morbid fascination, but she reaches to cradle his jaw on the side he's turned away from her. She's never seen him without the eyepatch. A missing eye isn't appalling, it's just... something about him to accept. A part of himself he gave away. Marina doesn't shy from the sight, wanting to know if he's willing to show her, but doesn't pull him towards her.
No more of that, she reminds herself, nerves still raw...]
Oh, pretty bad. [honestly, no faking her way out of that] What about you?
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So he relaxes, letting her guide his face.]
Mm. Probably at least less bad than you are. But still kinda rough.
[After admitting all of that to her, throwing so much weight onto her -- it was cruel. Marina has had enough in her life to deal with, she didn't need his problems added to it.]
...I'm sorry, for how the night turned out.
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She shakes herself from the thoughts, leaning in to kiss him with a slow, delicately shown compassion. Right on the cheek beneath that eye. (Not on the lips, their collective morning breath is terrible.)]
We can both be sorry. [because, of course, she is too. Very regretful. She's glad he's so calm towards her. She feels... frayed. Unwoven from her well maintained confidence.]
A lot came over me, all at once. Not your fault that I acted... badly. [she means that two ways. She did an action she regrets, lost her composure... but also didn't put on the correct act. Didn't make a show of what she should have. So much grief left undisplayed...]
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