#private starter

It was either very late or dismally early when Caspian crept out of the master bedroom into the kitchen. Rome was soundly asleep and the Lich knew the sun would be rising relatively soon and so he set about his task. Pulling ingredients from the fridge - he went into the easy rhythms of making breakfast. Finding his phone from a pile of his things left by the door - he turned on some very low music; low enough he hoped the other two wouldn’t hear. Soft strings, a piano. It was a somber piece, good for clearing the head while he worked. Whipping eggs in a copper bowl, he set about brewing a pot of coffee as soon as they were well combined. 

A pad of butter sizzled gently in a pan over low-heat. As he worked, he dreamed - thinking of colors and spacing, how he’d match the shade to the skin-tone. He thought of the pose, he thoughts of a million minute details before realizing none of it really mattered. He wanted it to be...beautiful, of course - but poignant. He wanted it to be real. Something genuine. He wasn’t sure how many genuine things still existed. 

Within time, the sun began to peek over the edges of the clouds and Caspian smiled for it just as he finished plating the food. Placing it all on a wooden tray, he made for Lazarus’ room. Giving a short knock at the door, he quietly let himself in with a small grin. “Lazarus...” He whispered, approaching the bed - eyeing him like a kid on Christmas morning. The dragon had such a handsome face, Caspian imagined how he’d shade him correctly to show off the edges of his cheekbones, how angular his brow bone was. “Laz...I made you breakfast.” He said, setting down the tray on a small beside table - reaching over to shake the sleeping dragon awake. “I know it’s early, I apologize but the sun has just come up and I can’t think of better lighting...” He bit his lip, hoping the other would agree. “Care to sit for me? If you meant it? I promise I’ll have pots and pots of coffee waiting...” 

Florescent lights buzzed like locusts and Perceval used the drone to center himself. Like the prayers of monks or the song of cicadas on a particularly humid day. He stared in abject dejection as a line of cocaine he had balanced on the edge of a coaster he’d taken from under the bar. Somewhere outside the dirty bathroom in which he stood, he heard the bell above the door ring out it’s clarion call. Some new, poor soul come to the Booth to lose themselves. 

He understood the feeling better than most. Lifting the coaster, he closed one nostril and inhaled - drawing the substance into his nasal cavities where it burned for only a moment as he tilted his head back with a half-wince. Rubbing the sides of his nose, he eased the burn for only a moment before licking the pad of his finger and drawing it through the powder, running the remnants over his gums. A fist pounded on the door, the voice of one of the regulars loud on the other side. “Fuck, hurry up! Gotta fuckin’ piss!.” Percy rolled his gaze towards the door, closing his eyes as he focused his mental acuity. Easy enough to reach into the man’s mind, to look at I.D. To gaze at the ego. 

“Piss outside! Takin’ a shit!” He called back, lying through his teeth as his hand searched his pocket - plucking a small case of cosmetics from it. He hated it with every fiber of his being. Looking at his reflection, he leant forward as he reapplied the mascara to his lashes - realigned the glittery, blue eyeshadow that decorated his lids. The image in the mirror made him want to retch. With a trembling hand, he cleaned the line of his pale pink lipstick. Smeared and fucked as it was from the blowjob he’d just given out back. More pounding on the door, more yelling. 

Percy didn’t bother answering. ‘I like it when you’re pretty.’ The owner had told him once. Had given him thirty bucks to run down to the drug store and buy some slutty makeup. The Psion was proud of himself for not hurting the man. He knew better than to bite the hand that fed. 

Turning on his heel, he ran a hand through his hair as he pushed out the door - slamming it into the man who had apparently chosen to wait rather than piss out back. Striding back onto the floor, he made his way behind the bar - taking a few empty glasses and tossing them in the soapy water of the filled sink. But there was a new mind - a new sensation that caressed Perceval’s mind like a silken glove. His hand stopped from where he’d been absently polishing an already clean glass to turn and stare at the newcomer. 

He’s handsome too.

Percy sidled up to stand across from him, leaning on his elbow with a half-smile. “Hey there, stranger. What’ll ya’ be havin’?” 

Wings would flutter however when a Master had caught his upper arm, wanting the boy’s attention but he did not know the man and thus tried to pull away. “I’m sorry— I’m afraid I’m already accompanied by another tonight—“ he’d lie, tugging on his arm more while the man seemed relentless to let go. “Please—“ he started until someone began to brush by him, and he’d quickly grip onto Kris’s arm, not realizing he had been one of the first of the masters he’d met. “There you are— I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” eyes nearly pleading towards the Master to lend him a hand in the rather awkward situation. “Please…” he spoke softly between the two, still unaccustomed to the rules of the castle or his new lifestyle he held.

He’d sent a small letter to his friend, having not seen him since Spring Mischief, but with everything going on, he hadn’t had the time. He liked Finn. He seemed straightforward, no bullshit, and he’d had alot of experience in the short time he’d been a slave. He felt they related on a different level, and he felt comfortable around him. Finn made it easy.  

Romeo would set up the living room with a couple of glasses of wine and some simple snacks to absorb the alcohol, and had cleaned up the space a bit. An array of fruit had been placed as well, the angel being a fruit fiend. He’d rarely gone out of the suite unless absolutely necessary, not wanting to cause any trouble. Plus, Caspian’s suite had been warded, but it seemed it didn’t always keep unwanted company out. Having found that out lately, though he had yet to tell his lover about the uncomfortable encounter. Not even Laz would know. He didn’t want to worry them. 

Upon hearing a knock on the door, his face lightens up with a broad smile, and as he had made his way over to the door, he’d fix his hair and clothes. The moment he opened the door, he’d had the brightest smile that soon turned into a smirk. Romeo was still very much taller than the other. “Finally at your normal height, I see,” he’d tease lightly before opening the door more to make space for the other to enter. “Finn, my friend. I hope you’ve been well?”

Drumming his fingers against the edge of his desk, he sighed and lit himself a cigarette - waiting for the individual he’d sent for to arrive. Hadrian wasn’t a terribly social man, at least not on his own but that didn’t mean he didn’t keep up with everyone in the castle. He’d heard of Emmett before, hadn’t ever spoken to the man but a Nephalem was useful to have around - especially when it came to shit like this. 

He heard a knock at his door and called for the other to be let in. Standing, he moved to shake the other’s hand and gestured towards the ring. “Nice to meet’cha. I’m Hadrian, don’t think we’ve had the pleasure. Normally - I’d say let’s grab a beer or a fuck before we get into the nitty gritty but...” He dragged off his cigarette and moved back behind the desk, nodding towards the artefact. “So - what I know. This was found on a slave, newly brought in by one of our collectors. Enchanted somehow but I don’t know with what. We took it off the slave, everything was fine - the trouble started when the guard who took it off said slave was...compelled...to put it on. He did so, started hearing shit that wasn’t there and...things got...bad.” Hadrian snuffed out his cigarette, eyeing the damnable thing with no small amount of distrust. 

“Guard’s alive but recuperating. The ring seemed to try to make him hostile. It’s got some sort of shadow magic on it but I don’t know what, not my area of expertise. I asked for you specifically because isn’t it true you Nephalem can sorta...I dunno...shield yourselves from that kinda shit? I’d very appreciate it if you were able to tell me what the fuck we’re dealing with.”