Unveiledvagabonds - Muses By Murr...

location: masque of red death open to: open to anyone

caidence's info

making his way back to the private room he'd spent an hour, or so, in with a stranger-- dancing for him-- the half naked, mildly intoxicated harpie was hoping to slip in unnoticed to retrieve his discarded shirt. he was a bit disappointed that all he'd managed to do with the stranger was dance but they couldn't all be winners.

as he stepped into the room after peering at the number on the door to make sure it was right for too long, he was surprised to see someone was already in the room. cleaning, masturbating, waiting for someone else to join them-- he honestly didn't know why they were there by themselves but he didn't care. he was a harpie on a mission. he wanted his shirt.

they just happened to be holding it.

"that's mine." he spoke up with a lick of his lips as he strode forward to pull at the balled up fabric in their hands. "you weren't thinking of taking that from me, now, were you?"

@unveilstarters

LEO SUTER for Men’s Health: Train Like

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a visible wave of relief washed over the were as the door opened. it was still chained shut so he couldn't see casey fully but he was answering him and that was enough. all those undermining voices in the back of his head telling him the man wasn't going to see him were rightfully silenced. taking a deep breath, his posture softening and loosening to show that he was already comfortable around the other, the features of his face betrayed him and tightened as alston realized this was the first time he'd ever come around without a wounded animal in his arms; without needing help of some kind.

"everything's fine," he blurted out quickly, the words feeling rushed and uncertain as his lips pulled into a forced and uncomfortable smile. "well, i didn't bring anyone with me at least." things were hardly fine. his home had burned, so many had been lost, and he was on the run... but that was hardly a conversation to have on someone's doorstep after not seeing them for-- what had it been now, months? a year? why was it so hard for him to keep track of time.

"beer." alston stated plainly as he held up the six pack in his hand, followed by lifting the bottle of whiskey to show them to casey as if the man couldn't clearly see him holding them. "i came to offer you some beer, or some whiskey? i wasn't sure what you liked..."

"oh, and to let you know that i've relocated to live here in alexandria and say hello... so... hello?"

yeah. you're killing it alston. definitely not awkward at all.

As a chronic misanthrope, Casey lives on his own on the edge of town, away from the bustle and hustle. Some peace and quiet, that is all he wants in life, really. Though compared to other nigh-immortal creatures his kind doesn't live that long but still, Casey feels like he has lived long enough to act like a grumpy old man. And he doesn't need parties or going out so this place suits him.

Naturally, it's quite unusual someone knocks on his door. It is clearly stated on his 'no soliciting' sign at the gate... But Casey is unfortunately not callous and impolite enough to simply not answer the door. What if someone's car broke down or has medical emergency? Grumbling, he drags himself to the door. Instead of fully opening the door, he cracks it open with the chain on and checks outside. "...Alston?"

He hasn't seen the werebear in... how many years, or months? He can't even remember (his sense of time is all over the place, sort of). He closes the door to unchain, and greets his old... client? Acquaintance? Friend? He is not sure. "Hey, it's been a while. So where's the patient?" Out of habit his eyes turn to Alston's hands. Usually, Alston brings injured animals. Not seeing any blood, fur or feathers, he looks back up at the other's face. "Everything okay?"