#bastion1

By this point the celestial was growing used to the pattern of festivities in the castle, granted a bit more confidence now that he knew he could trust Roland not to dress him up in anything terribly overexposing... so far, at least. Even the outfit his master had chosen for this event was rather demure compared to some costumes Adrasia had witnessed the other slaves being manhandled into during prior celebrations. Much to his surprise though, he came to realize that not all the clothing Roland had spent his time deliberating over in the days beforehand were for either the vampire or his slave. There across the ballroom was a deeply recognizable, voluminous blouse and leather everything else in a combination Adrasia couldn't help but recognize. A third party, it seemed, had entered the realm of Roland's deliberation. Or his interest, at least.

Of course Adrasia recognized Bastion, even if he was more familiar with the sound of the hellhound in pleasure than with his face. An embarrassing thought, but the celestial was not expected to be the sole attendant to Roland's untiring libido, thank goodness. What of Bastion himself though, beyond the licentiousness he seemed to so cheerfully take part in? Was Adrasia assuming too much to take this as a sign he would be seeing more of the other rather than less? He approached slowly, still organizing the exact reasons he wanted to to begin with, assessing the other slave.

"You wear Councilman de Rochefort's arrangement well," Adrasia opened with, neutral, polite, once he saw Bastion register his approach, "I can't help but wonder how you align with his taste. Are you comfortable?"

While Roland had had every intention of attending the Valentine's Day ball, plans had changed and he'd ended up going away briefly to spend some time with Rhys. Newly returned and refreshed from an extended period of time with his love, the vampire was in a good mood. He spent the first couple days after his return making sure everything was in order with Adrasia, Aneirin, and Gwyn and catching up on work. There were plenty of meetings to have and documents to sign and all manner of other things to take care of that kept him quite busy. Finally finished with that, he was in the mood for some fun, something new and interesting. While he could have easily checked the app and seen what new slaves were on offer it was more his style to go down to the Undercroft and see who caught his eye. No doubt there would be some new additions he hadn't had the chance to sample yet and he was eager for the experience.

Gliding through the Undercroft, it didn't take him long to catch sight of a tall, very chiseled man he'd never seen before. His scent was wolf and demon both which meant he must be a hellhound. Intriguing. Roland hadn't tasted one of those in quite some time and such a handsome one at that. His jaw looked like it could cut glass and Roland was eager to get his hands on him.

Roland approached him with a smile. "I really should get them to alert me when we have such handsome new arrivals. I'd have had you up to my suite immediately if they had." His grin only widened and he reached over to trail a finger along that strong, perfect jawline. "I'm sure you're eager to get out of here and go upstairs, non?"

New blood was an endlessly exciting prospect for the sith -- new blood so fresh it seemed like they'd dumped the slave out of the transport truck and right into a tuxedo doubly so. Gwyn had watched the castle's most recent acquisition the second he'd caught a whiff of the hellhound, still stinking like the strong soap they scrubbed the slaves with on intake. The stranger seemed disoriented behind his mask, even with all that obvious strength in his frame, eyes a little unfocused. Oh, but Gwyn could tell the slave was handsome under all that, charmed by the touseled flyaway curls mimicking the fur edges of the wolf face worn over the other's own.

It was his duty to welcome the lovely creature, surely, and he crept after him under the cloak of his invisibility until there was enough space for the sith to sidle right up beside him, sliding a hand over the stranger's bicep and immediately pleased by the muscle he could feel there. He would do very nicely. "Hello, darling!" The sith chirped, melting back into view with a sunny smile as he extended a flute of champagne up to the other man like a peace offering, "I saw you across the room and thought I'd never spotted a man so obviously in need of a drink. Will this do?"