Silhouette Beauty

“That’s good to hear then.” He smiles, now reassured. She doesn’t read anything contradictory either at the moment——— nothing that stands out anyway. “The title doesn’t make me busy. It’s———“ there’s a pause, because it’s always a struggle to say it out loud. “It’s the aftermath of the 2020 war, and being the only one left.“ Even then, he cannot bring himself to say that it’s his family’s death that brings him the most hardship. He has so much to deal with, especially since he was away for two years.

Trevor gives her his number. He chuckles then. “That’s a mood. Where you claimed, or in training?” He can only guess it’s one or the other. How strange if it’s the latter——— both will have been gone for the same thing.

--

Cynthia wondered if there was more to what Trevor was saying that he would want to share with her, but knew some liked to keep certain things private. “I see. I was kept away in the training camp when that happened. I don’t really know much unless those tell me.” She felt stupid for not knowing. 

“I was in the training camp.” She didn’t really want to talk about why she was sent back. It was her fault. Cynthia had to do better. Prove to the city that she was who they wanted her to be. 

@covairecitystarters​

He’d been basically living at pool hall. The owner usually rented him out as a bouncer. A human that Eli got along with pretty well because the guy understood that it was rough being an escort at times. But tonight he was off, playing pool and doing his best to just distract himself with tequila and music. No one would tell him to vacate the table. Even if it was a busy night. He took a shot of his tequila and chased it with a drink of beer as he sunk a ball. He moved and was rubbing chalk on the tip of the queue looking at the table when he glanced up at the person that had stopped at the table. “If you wanna play. I’m playing 8-ball.” 

--

Cynthia was happy to see Elijah out and she made her way over to the table that she saw him playing pool at. “You don’t have to ask me twice.” She smiles brightly at him and goes to pick out her own stick. “Are we going to make any bets?”

@covairecitystarters​

After the fifth or sixth mention of burn scars from yet another fever dream that he could not remember Elessar had decided that with winter basically here now was a perfect time to grow a beard. He didn’t like that he couldn’t remember anything or anyone who had interacted with him but it had also sounded like he was rather not himself in whatever dream that had been. He had gone to the Dominion to turn in paperwork regarding a few pawns that had come due and was coming down the steps. He looked down and fixed his vest and tie. Then sending a text to a business associate. He looked down at the large gold ring that he was wearing on his thumb for safe keeping until he got back to the Pawnshop. Then feeling someone moving towards him looked up expectantly. 

--

Nov 9, 2022

It has been a couple months since I have been with Hayato now. I think we work well together, but sometimes I wonder if he thinks about Leda and wishes she was back. Not that it would bother me much if the both of us were in the house. Just stupid things that linger in my head and I start t doubt myself. I feel like I’m in a constant tug of war on who I should be and what I could be. I have been trying to keep busy by taking on more hobbies. 

Trevor listens, and it dawns on him that everything goes back to one thing— her training, and desire to please. He understands how she feels, that distress of reconciling expectations versus who you truly are. The thing is that he’s currently learning that those can coexist, maybe not the way people had intended them to, but in a way that he can live with. “Have something wrong happened between you too?” He cannot help himself from asking, because the only times he’s ever seen her this way had been after something bad had happened. Then again, Trevor has always been the type of civilian to disappear from slaves’ life once claimed. Always out of fear of some Master or Mistress, misreading the relationship he had with their slaves, and that hadn’t changed after slavery was abolished. Self-preservation is a must in Covaire City. And even at the top of the food chain, he still thinks like a civilian. “I’m not the most available these days—” he points at the bags, and chuckles, “but please, you can also call me whenever. Just let me give you my number.” He finishes with a soft smile. “Believe in yourself, Cynthia.”

-

“I’ll take it from the smirk that your priorities have changed from being a good girl and getting your things stowed away. You know naughty pups have to be punished right?” His tone had a tinge of playfulness even though it was still serious as he turned the truck down street towards his home.

--

“That he is——— from the little we’ve talked.” Trevor listens to her answer, and even if he can feel her emotions, she’s most likely confused herself as he cannot get a proper read of them. “Are you uncomfortable as an escort? Is the freedom too much?” Trevor understands how it feels to suddenly have all the rights. Because it’s something he has to deal with now. Of course, people don’t understand how deeply rooted that is, because other than Edgar, he’d never spoken about it to anyone else. “It was a welcome distraction.” He responds with a somewhat sad smile. “Ah——— those are the best kind of clients you can have. Hayato is a keeper.”

--

“I’m the same way,” he nodded, mostly when it came to music, but he did plan to learn more languages, he was currently learning sign language, “Oh, sure, I never taught anyone before, but I could definitely do my best to teach you.”

--

“What new hobbies are you taking up?” She was always curious about others. There were so many people in the city she could meet. A bright smile etches into her features when he does offer to teach her. “That would be very nice of you.” The pup scoots a little closer to take a look at his guitar. “I have some money that I should be able to buy one for myself.” Cynthia was doing bringing in enough clients to pay what she had to the city and then save some. But now with Hayato, she could save more. 

“You do need to make sure the mattress is to your liking while it’s still under warranty. Haven’t gotten you any new bedding though, just the standard comforter and sheets you use when you’ve visited before. It’s your room, so you’re responsible for decorating it to your own liking. And ruining older sheets is just an excuse to get new ones, now isn’t it?”

--

The problem with autumn was, it was fucking chilly. Though, that was coming from a man born and bred in the heard of Louisiana and gave off enough body heat to qualify as a furnace. He was dressed in his uniform and a black hoodie with the precincts letters on the back. Abel had been so focused on what he’d been about to do that the large wolf stopped in a bit of surprse as he caught sight of the girl. “Aah. hey there sugar. Not much, little crime and blood.” He teased.

--

At the mention of blood, her eyes widen and she glances around. “Crime isn’t good.” She bites on the inside of her cheek. “But blood is.” She was still a wolf at heart and blood had always been something that called to her. “Is it a slow day for you? Or are you getting off work?” The last thing she wanted to be was a distraction to the officer. 

“Not really, probably because I always really loved it,” he noticed each person was different, to some it was easier to learn, to others harder. He learned really fast, but he knew some that took much longer to get it right, “Why? Thinking about learning?”

--

Her eyes would flicker from his face down to the guitar. It fascinated her. “I want to try to learn all that I can.” Cynthia still had her training engraved in her, but now having more time, new hobbies were always nice. “Do you think you could teach me?” She asked him. 

“Alright! Thanks.” He doesn’t need the help with the weight of the bags, but the amount of them, so he appreciates the offer. “Yes, I remember, you told me about Mr. Motoyoshi. I’ve met him since we last spoke. Very nice man. And why does it feels different?” She seems uncertain, quite new for him coming from her——— as someone part of the breeding program, those children – once adults – usually felt at their happiest while serving. He wonders if something happened to her. “I’m good. Just doing a lot of cleaning as you see.” Cynthia had visited his quite small apartment before, so the amount of clothing made no sense. At least to her, it wouldn’t. Especially since Trevor has always been the type to never waste money on clothes he didn’t need. “And you, other than the claim? What have you been up to?”

--

Eli played dumb, it was just safer that way. Let people think that he didn’t want to know about the shit before he arrived. If only she’d known how much he knew about the city and how many times he’d been on the island, killing it’s inhabitance. There were times that he looked at some of the people he met and wondered if he’d shot at them before, or seen them running. It would have been impossible to tell. At her question he shrugged, “I know what I’m good at, kid. Might as well get paid for it.” But he did like working out his troubles through violence. He frowned at her when she wondered out loud if she could be a bouncer. She could try. The problem with tiny bouncers, no matter their gender, some asshole would always want to test them. Eli saw it all the time. But since she hadn’t asked his opinion he didn’t give it. When she asked what they were going to drink he cocked his head to the side, “I know what I’m going to drink. But you can drink whatever it is you like best. That’s usually how that works.”

--

Cynthia was certain there were other things Elijah was good at, and over time she would be able to learn about them. The pup never really forced anything. The only thing that gave Cynthia any advantage was that she was a werewolf, but there were other strong supernaturals out there. She was good at serving drinks. “What will you be drinking? Maybe I want the same thing.” She gives him a coy smile and starts her way out of the Brodel outside area. 

Whenever he played in public, he already knew that he would attract at least some people’s attention. She wasn’t the first one that approached him, and he honestly didn’t mind it, as long as they weren’t rude, he didn’t mind, “Thank you,” he gave her a smile, “I have practiced for a really long time, that’s probably why. I play since I was really young.”

--

Cynthia steps around and takes a seat on the grass, her legs crossed and she looks across at him. “Was it hard to learn?” She had never learned how to play an instrument. It wasn’t something deemed useful when she was being raised and trained.