Tory yanked his hand away and stumbled back, "You trying to make me sick? You know I can't drink anything." It would've been a more convincing argument if he hadn't spent the night risking a bad reaction to drink when it suited him. A calculated risk, one he took for alcohol, but wasn't about to for water.
Tory never bothered to hide the scars along his body, and the flare up of anger caused them to sputter to life, a flickering glow which would quickly draw attention.
"I dunno, boss, just like, quit riding my dick about this it's fi-" He blinked slowly and looked down at the criss cross of blue light down his arms, adding a new tint to an otherwise murky bar. "That's not great..."
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Open RP
Open to all, written nsfw with men only, tops, bottoms, verses.
Basic idea: Tory has been YM's familiar for a while now. This is the first time they've asked for something sexual. He's going to be an asshole about it at first. Shut him up, talk it through, whatever!
"You're not a total dog, you can do better." Coming from him, it was meant as a compliment, and was one the nicer things he'd said to his master.
Tory played with the glass in his hands, a poured drink just for show, some familiar habit he'd hung onto in death. "Or did you try everyone else and now figured you'll ask the stiff." A clink of ice as he stopped swirling it, "Ask the dead guy. Not stiff. Don't want you getting any ideas." Tory smirked, an incorrigible asshole of a smirk, and winked at them.
Personality: Angry. Tense. A bundle of simmering repression and resentment. Bonds through insults, rude jackass. Under it all there's something more but even he doesn't know what.
Style and Appearance: T-shirt, dark jeans, leather jacket. Swoop of dark hair, scruffy unshaven. Never a full beard, just scruff.
Piercings and Tattoos: Ears pierced. Wears basic studs. Has a three-cent silver on his right wrist. The 'tails', the moon like c, the numeral 3, and the stars.
Scars and Distinguishing Marks: Criss-cross of blue-silver scar stretching all across his body. Big patch of the silvery fill-in material scar tissue across his chest.
Sexuality: Deeply closeted. Can't get out of his head about it enough to realize he's probably bisexual not gay, since he has liked women, not as frequently, but he has. Takes a lot of warming up for anything to happen.
Abilities: Transform into a small bat, it has silver-blue lines, like lightening, down his wing membranes. Conduit for magical energy. Can choose how he interacts with the physical world, when he's felt, when he has weight, when walls matter.
Weaknesses: Eating or drinking makes him ill. Base canon the compulsion magic is still in effect, but it's weakened. However, we can play with that, he doesn't need to be properly freed yet. Isn't entirely sure if he's still allergic to penicillin, but he was deathly so in life.
Links: Canon - Media - Aesthetic - Music - Threads
Bits and Pieces:
Tory has no memory of his life, but he is capable of creating new ones. In fact, he seems to have a brilliant memory, which has been well utilized over the years by those he's been bound to. So still contains a wealth of magical knowledge of both 'human' magic and fae otherworld magic.
Still wears his medical alert bracelet. He must've died wearing it, because it was there when he came back. It's how he learned his name, and the one bit of info he has about his past. No one cared. A single short stub of an article about a body of a former business owner found in a foreclosed repair shop near the marina. No obituary. No notice.
He died within the last five years. There are muses on this blog who knew him before. People are very welcome to play in that space.
Likes shiny things. Little magpie idiot who is easily bought.
Like Fetch, his personality is made of fragments. Some things show through even if he doesn't understand the context. Like he always picks up coins if he sees them. Likes shiny things. Something about the idea of treasure and puzzles really brings out a lightness in him.
The other thing that softens him is singing. Getting to show off, getting to be a bit loud. He loves it. Always humming to himself. Rarely sing when around others unless it's expected in the setting (like karaoke). But he does when alone.
Frequently buys cheap old crap from pawn stores and plans to restore it and resell it. It might be worth something. Instead, his room at the shelter is just full of junk.
Sort of free of the familiar binds. Sort of. Ivo couldn't completely sever it, not without finding out who made Tory and making a deal, he knows better than to deal with fae. But, Ivo was able to weaken it significantly, putting a ward onto the medical alert bracelet that blocks a lot of things out. Including the obedience to the name magically given to him, Bug.
Was bound to a witch who ended up at the shelter Ivo runs. The witch didn't really want him, called him a damn curse. Deceptive little thing is a fucking albatross. Since then, and since Ivo 'freed' him, he's stuck around. Not really sure what else he's supposed to do.
Never really pushed back or acted out as a familiar. Just got on with it. What was the point? Numbness and the bare minimum. Some people were nice enough, others sucked. Didn't matter either way.
