GOD KNOWS I AM

Olivia rolled her eyes while chewing on that gum, because yeah, of course Lauriel would say that. "You know how fricking expensive all of that is." She gestured at her own body because yes, sadly, becoming who she wanted to be was expensive. And the last step yet had to be done. "Any hand that meets my pretty cute butt pays me extra." She is watching her partner, looking cute with his puppy eyes while acting as if she was right for beating up Olivias customer. "I am not sleeping with these guys, a hand on my butt doesn't kill me and doesn't kill you." But the jealousy was flattering, she liked being loved so passionately.

when they pull up to their usual late night haunt, lauriel takes off her helmet and runs a hand over her mussed up, grown out buzzcut. she'll probably ask olivia to dye it some crazy color when they both have the time.

"i don't beat up all your clients," lauriel pouts indignantly. "just the ones that deserve it, liv. and you can't tell me they don't deserve it. the other girls think so, too." he's shared a cigarette or two with olivia's coworkers during their breaks and lauriel's inevitable eviction from the club, and she's heard enough horror stories to stoke a righteous fury for a lifetime. the bassist leans over to kiss olivia's cheek and then her gloss-sticky lips.

BASICS FULL NAME/NICKNAMES: merit zhu SPECIES: human occultist GENDER: genderqueer (afab) PRONOUNS: any pronouns DOB / AGE: 6 february / 26 years OCCUPATION: streamer/influencer DRINK, SMOKE, DRUGS?: sometimes, no, yes

SEXUAL PREFERENCES ORIENTATION: bisexual (masc leaning) POSITION: switch verse

PHYSICAL HAIR COLOR / STYLE: black, sometimes dyed pink / wavy short with heavy bangs EYE COLOR / STYLE: hazel / wide monolid HEIGHT: five feet four inches BODY TYPE: soft hourglass TATTOOS/PIERCINGS: cult of [redacted] tattoo on shoulder cut from skin leaving a large circular scar, various other scars in the shape of bitemarks and clawmarks / lobe, upper lobe, helix, bellybutton NOTABLE FEATURES: natural pout, fluffy hair, beauty marks under right eye, near nose, and on chin

MENTAL POSITIVE TRAITS: steadfast, astute, personable NEGATIVE TRAITS: rancorous, disingenuous, single-minded LIKES: streaming, gourmand scents, compliments DISLIKES: being outdone, candles, empty promises

Why would her shifts always need to end so dramatically? If she wasn't so endeared by Lauriels possessive streak she would be beyond embarrassed about their behavior. She has to roll her eye at that question. Was she? Seeing Lauriel smoke like this surely got her in the mood to smoke too, but since she quit smoking, she was now popping a nicotine gum in her mouth. "You owe me like, fifty dollars." She changed into a pair of low rise sweatpants and a top, one of Lauriel jackets to keep her covered and warm, formerly she wore her skimpy fit for performance, but now was after show. "He didn't hurt me, but he was totally not tipping me after my partner beat him."

"no one should be touching you." and then, lauriel feels inclined to add, "or your coworkers. but especially you." because olivia is lauriel's and seeing some creep cop a feel makes him see red. the bassist is no stranger to her own anger issues, but she has never felt so viscerally inclined to stomp a person until she saw someone touch olivia like that. it's a poor habit that gets him in trouble more often than not but if he doesn't teach these freaks a lesson, who will?

"he probably wasn't going to tip you anyway, baby. he smelled cheap." he scoffs. "your manager needs to do their job. clearly they're not keeping their talent safe. pisses me off..." lauriel flips up the kickstand to her motorbike with her foot and pulls on her helmet. they can finish the discussion over food.

Leo likes to think he's aware of his surroundings at all times. He's lived here long enough to think he knows everything in the city, but the expanse is large and vast, so there are things unfamiliar to him - like the ballet studio he's walking by.

Huh. Leo stops at the window, looking in curiously. He's never given much thought to dancing; his bulk might make it difficult, and structured classes aren't his thing. But still, it might be fun to watch - if the place was still open.

"oh--" it's then that they realize he had picked up their keys. delicately, they retrieve them from his finger and finally meet his eye. big mistake, they can't help but internally chide themself. ondinea... truly has no idea what he might mean by that but it makes them flush down to their chest regardless.

He was perfect, Aviel had decided. So amazingly beautiful and graceful. But of course he was- a model, a ballet dancer- the jobs Gian had chosen for himself were perfect. Everything he did was perfection. Attending every ballet he was in had been his goal for the last 3 years, buying every magazine he featured on. If Gians face was in or on it, Aviel tried to own it. So much so that his apartment was vaguely embarrassing with it-

His band mates made sure to tease him every time they came over too- not that the demon let them come over often anymore. Not after his drummer had wrinkled one of the magazines. He'd written him letters- fan mail, all signed with a flourished A and a black & pink wax seal with a rabbit on it, telling him how much he admired his work, writing poetry about the fluidity of his movements on stage, picking out why he liked this or that about a photoshoot or ballet to show the other he was truly watching, truly looking... Learning Gian liked rabbits had almost literally stolen his breath, considering he lived in his rabbit hoodie. It was a comfort item, and so easy to hide in. It had made it feel... meant to be.

Aviel wasn't exactly the definition of bold when he was off stage- on stage, sure- he was a powerhouse, very haunted house. Off stage he was.. quieter, less social except with his band mates. Rarely did they seek out others. And yet.... he stood there at the others door, the box of bbq in its hands, taking in several deep breathes. They worked to deliver food, primarily picking up orders from the places it knew Gian frequently went to or ordered from, all for a chance of seeing the other up close. So when a familiar address had popped up... they'd never moved quite so fast to accept an order, to get the order, to get to the others door. His delivery speeds were always super quick- considering they didn't need a car. They made sure to keep it realistic, though. Though maybe this time... a little less realistic, with his excitement to be so close to the man.

bunny was different. they went beyond the typical parasocial fawning or appreciation. gian could say that bunny was properly obsessed. the lycan isn't sure if he's ever met them in person and it drives him proper mad. he is seen. he is watched. but he cannot stare back. it prickles that stupid apex predator chamber in his heart. it is almost as infuriating as it is exciting.

a wolf being stalked by a bunny. sometimes it makes gian laugh in the middle of the night.

gian hasn't told anyone. not anyone who could do anything about it, anyway. he doesn't want to. there's a part of him that's flattered. that's fascinated with this strange secret admirer and his fixation on gian. not gian's work or whatever interpretation he had concocted in his head. maybe gian has become a little obsessed with this stranger's obsession. an ouroboros of preying. and maybe he's a little curious regarding how far it could go. how far bunny would go.

not that gian's thinking of that right now. not when he's so hungry. he's always ravenous this late in the moon phase. he's been pacing the floors of his below average flat in anticipation, nearly throwing his vape against the wall when it's on the verge of running out of juice.

"hi," gian greets shortly when he opens the door a little too quickly, dressed down in an old shirt and sweat shorts. he gives his delivery person a once over and takes another (possibly the last) puff of his vape.

"you look like you're about to have an aneurysm." smoke is blown from the corner of his mouth. and now that he knows he has his gigantic oder of food in his grasp, and maybe now that the smoke has cleared, it hits him.

a very, very familiar scent. the sweat, specifically from aching palms.

suddenly, he smiles sweetly, his whole face brightening. vape tucked into his pocket. leans his shoulder against the doorway and tilts his head in question.