It's been a long day. A long few days. He's honestly lost track of how much time has even passed for the day - distracted instead by an uncomfortable heat that's burning under his skin. His already sharp senses feel more sensitive than usual, drawing his attention around the room anytime someone breathes just a hair too fast, their hearts even the slightest bit off in their rhythm. The only thing worse than that is the smells that border on nauseating with how strong some of them are as people pass in and out of the room. And there have been too many people.
This is the last place Arawn wants to be, a thought that only grows stronger the longer the day drags on. His packmates pace around the room on and off, some fully wearing their fur, others only their ears and tails, but their own restlessness is a reflection of Arawn's own. They know their Alpha - now their King - is on the verge of a rut, and the razor thin line of his patience might very well snap at any second. That's something that might come sooner rather than later, one of his advisors realizes quickly as his lips roll back in a sneer, flashing too sharp teeth in what the bear earred man recognizes as a predator ready to strike at its prey.
"Yes, yes, we'll be in touch. Thank you," the man urges quickly, shooing a couple and their scantily clad daughter down the blood red carpet and back out of the grand hall. He doesn't make it far before a shaggy, gray furred wolf hurries to nudge them more quickly out the door as the advisor turns back to where Arawn sits unhappily upon the large throne. "We're almost done, Your Majesty, I promise. Just a couple mo-"
"One more." Arawn's voice is a loud snarl that makes the bear flinch, a few of the other wolves hunching down or lowering themselves to the ground in face of the man's uncharacteristic rage. He reaches up with one hand, rubbing it over his face as he breathes in, nose wrinkling in distaste at the lingering scent of the young woman in his nostrils. One of too many of the people who have been paraded in front of him as an offering to fill his bed for his rut now and for as long as he wears this stupid crown to stay in his good graces. It's a thought that doesn't sit well with Arawn for too many reasons his rapidly crumbling thoughts can't even string together anymore.
Rubbing his eyes, the furry ears flick back, frustrated, as he hears the heavy steps of his bear advisor leave the room to herd the next group into the room. He falls back against the hard back of his throne, the soft fur of past kills a fleeting comfort against his skin as the bright eyes close. He forces himself to breath out, trying to hold onto the thread of humanity he's clinging for just a bit longer. Just a few more minutes and he can go back to his room, and so help him, he'll ride out this rut in silent misery whether any of his advisors like it or not.
The doors at the end of the large room open after a moment, his ears shifting upwards to stand tall he hears the shuffle of more people into the room. Beside him, the length of the fluffy tail gives a sharp flick before it stiffens as he takes in the new scents that fill the room as the bear leads them to the head of the room where his throne sits. There's something mixed in them that has his attention, eyes opening to narrow at the people that approach.
"Your Majesty, the Soh-"
"Who is that?" He motions expectantly towards the orange haired man among them, eyes dragging down the length of him slowly.
[ooc: gonna leave this one up to you on whether it's set at the Teahouse or if you want to have Axix in another brothel entirely.]
~ 0 ~
[One week. That's all it'd taken. A week since his family decided Kyo had to "do something useful" with his life and opted to sell him to a damn whorehouse rather than keep him around the Sohma estate. He doesn't know what kind of stipulations they'd added to the sale, but it was safe to say he no longer "owned" his own damn life. Like hell he was fine with this! It's not like he chose to be born like this, or that his mother couldn't handle the extra baggage that came with Kyo, or that his father wanted nothing to do with him thanks to his mother's...
He should stop thinking about that. It's not going to make his life any easier. Right. If anything, he should be grateful he got away from those idiots. Didn't have to stay walled in and face their disgusted eyes or hear them constantly run his mouth about him. So long as he stayed away from certain triggers, he'd be fine. That's what Kyo told himself. And he managed to make it one week in that place. It wasn't bad, actually. The whorehouse was neat enough, wasn't cramped, the people there were marginally better than his family because they didn't have a real reason to pester him.
But... the week leading up to his first client stressed Kyo the hell out. Expectations, questions, a certain big damn truth his family never BOTHERED to mention, and he was terrified to getting found out, all of that came to a head in the final day before the visitation and...
Well let's just say Kyo's not there when the door opened that morning. The window was open, but no sign of him. And everything was left as well. Clothes, wallet, money, anything he'd been given in the week, all still around the room. Just Kyo was gone.
And that's not at all surprising because HOW THE HELL IS HE SUPPOSED TO LET THEM SEE HIM LIKE THIS?! Perched atop a trash can in an alley way, ears perked forward, tail draped down behind him, paws braced on the lid as his red eyes watch the marketplace hustle and bustle. What's the owner going to say when he finds out the whore the Sohmas sold him is cursed? He can fucking guess what others in the whorehouse are going to say... and he doesn't want to deal with it.
That said... Kyo's currently watching a few of them in the marketplace, not sure if they're looking for him or just out shopping because what's a whore gone missing? Wouldn't surprise him if they didn't give him a second thought.]
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Date: 2023-11-20 01:13 am (UTC)This is the last place Arawn wants to be, a thought that only grows stronger the longer the day drags on. His packmates pace around the room on and off, some fully wearing their fur, others only their ears and tails, but their own restlessness is a reflection of Arawn's own. They know their Alpha - now their King - is on the verge of a rut, and the razor thin line of his patience might very well snap at any second. That's something that might come sooner rather than later, one of his advisors realizes quickly as his lips roll back in a sneer, flashing too sharp teeth in what the bear earred man recognizes as a predator ready to strike at its prey.
"Yes, yes, we'll be in touch. Thank you," the man urges quickly, shooing a couple and their scantily clad daughter down the blood red carpet and back out of the grand hall. He doesn't make it far before a shaggy, gray furred wolf hurries to nudge them more quickly out the door as the advisor turns back to where Arawn sits unhappily upon the large throne. "We're almost done, Your Majesty, I promise. Just a couple mo-"
"One more." Arawn's voice is a loud snarl that makes the bear flinch, a few of the other wolves hunching down or lowering themselves to the ground in face of the man's uncharacteristic rage. He reaches up with one hand, rubbing it over his face as he breathes in, nose wrinkling in distaste at the lingering scent of the young woman in his nostrils. One of too many of the people who have been paraded in front of him as an offering to fill his bed for his rut now and for as long as he wears this stupid crown to stay in his good graces. It's a thought that doesn't sit well with Arawn for too many reasons his rapidly crumbling thoughts can't even string together anymore.
Rubbing his eyes, the furry ears flick back, frustrated, as he hears the heavy steps of his bear advisor leave the room to herd the next group into the room. He falls back against the hard back of his throne, the soft fur of past kills a fleeting comfort against his skin as the bright eyes close. He forces himself to breath out, trying to hold onto the thread of humanity he's clinging for just a bit longer. Just a few more minutes and he can go back to his room, and so help him, he'll ride out this rut in silent misery whether any of his advisors like it or not.
The doors at the end of the large room open after a moment, his ears shifting upwards to stand tall he hears the shuffle of more people into the room. Beside him, the length of the fluffy tail gives a sharp flick before it stiffens as he takes in the new scents that fill the room as the bear leads them to the head of the room where his throne sits. There's something mixed in them that has his attention, eyes opening to narrow at the people that approach.
"Your Majesty, the Soh-"
"Who is that?" He motions expectantly towards the orange haired man among them, eyes dragging down the length of him slowly.
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From:JUST A BUNCH OF WHORES 🐈 for 'veronian'
Date: 2024-02-06 01:49 am (UTC)~ 0 ~
[One week. That's all it'd taken. A week since his family decided Kyo had to "do something useful" with his life and opted to sell him to a damn whorehouse rather than keep him around the Sohma estate. He doesn't know what kind of stipulations they'd added to the sale, but it was safe to say he no longer "owned" his own damn life. Like hell he was fine with this! It's not like he chose to be born like this, or that his mother couldn't handle the extra baggage that came with Kyo, or that his father wanted nothing to do with him thanks to his mother's...
He should stop thinking about that. It's not going to make his life any easier. Right. If anything, he should be grateful he got away from those idiots. Didn't have to stay walled in and face their disgusted eyes or hear them constantly run his mouth about him. So long as he stayed away from certain triggers, he'd be fine. That's what Kyo told himself. And he managed to make it one week in that place. It wasn't bad, actually. The whorehouse was neat enough, wasn't cramped, the people there were marginally better than his family because they didn't have a real reason to pester him.
But... the week leading up to his first client stressed Kyo the hell out. Expectations, questions, a certain big damn truth his family never BOTHERED to mention, and he was terrified to getting found out, all of that came to a head in the final day before the visitation and...
Well let's just say Kyo's not there when the door opened that morning. The window was open, but no sign of him. And everything was left as well. Clothes, wallet, money, anything he'd been given in the week, all still around the room. Just Kyo was gone.
And that's not at all surprising because HOW THE HELL IS HE SUPPOSED TO LET THEM SEE HIM LIKE THIS?! Perched atop a trash can in an alley way, ears perked forward, tail draped down behind him, paws braced on the lid as his red eyes watch the marketplace hustle and bustle. What's the owner going to say when he finds out the whore the Sohmas sold him is cursed? He can fucking guess what others in the whorehouse are going to say... and he doesn't want to deal with it.
That said... Kyo's currently watching a few of them in the marketplace, not sure if they're looking for him or just out shopping because what's a whore gone missing? Wouldn't surprise him if they didn't give him a second thought.]
let's go with early into his Teahouse days, before he's top-earner
From:*thumbs up*
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From:shows up 15 minutes late with starbucks MY BAD
From:Sirrah, the Coffee, Tis cold.
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