yolo | IC CONTACT

[~~Oh, a catfight. Sexy.~~]

[But good god woman. With this novel and incredibly annoying behavior now on the table, he's forced to weigh his options. Wear the leash for a few minutes, or suffer through, well... this for the rest of the day, and quite possibly the rest of the foreseeable future.

He drags a hand through his hair, and his next question is wary, as though he half expects her to pull him down by the front of his shirt and latch a dog collar around his neck as soon as he asks.] Do you have what you need?

[As in... yeah. Let's just get this the fuck over with.]

[Mugen, why are you agreeing to this. This is going to be a slippery slope. Once you agree, Koshōshō going to try making you do more and more things with the promises of giving you a kiss or more 'knocks you out in the back alley makes you think the impossibly happened'.

But hey, Koshōshō's got no complaints.] Lovely! Thank you so much, dear. I've got everything already.

[Including... the leash... in fact, she reaches to grab a few. Some with her vines. You have a few choices, to say the least.]

[All he's thinking is he better get some nookie for this. On top of the dough.]

Four hundred. [He repeats, crossing his arms again and giving the smallest tip of his head to one of the spiked collars. That should've been a no-brainer. Stupid chick. At least it looked somewhat menacing, and the dark leather'll blend in with his neck fur, hopefully. As for that pink piece of work covered in all those flowers, maybe if he glares at it hard enough, it'll burst into flames.]

[It would be so funny, though...]

Four hundred. [But she'll drop the flowery one, saving that for another day. (Why.) She won't clamp it on his neck right away, so he still has some time to enjoy freedom.]

Let's head out, then! Just don't say anything while we're inside the party. [Snarling at them should be a borderline case.]

[And enjoy it he will. Mugen lets her take the lead, falling into step behind her with his arms stretched up in a knot behind his head.]

How come they trust you to walk in there normally? You're a monster, too. [No comment on that 'don't talk' stipulation, of course, because he ain't promising shit in that regard. She doesn't need to know that, though.]

Oh, they know me.

[And that's all she says about that. That's true, at least. They know her-- know her harmless persona, how she can make flowers bloom prematurely and sing songs about the beauty of the forest. That kind of shit.

When they walk out of the door, she immediately stretches out her hand.]

Hello, taxi!

Coulda' put in a better word for me if you guys're that friendly, then. Jeez.

[A yellow car stops at the curb promptly, no sooner than the complaint's out of his mouth, in fact.

While she's working her magic, he stands back until it's time to pile in behind her. Knowing that cab services exist hasn't swayed his preference for using his own two legs to get around, but he's got the routine down for these things by now, at least. He takes up a lot of the seat thanks to his lanky limbs, that, and his inclination to kick back and take up a lot of space in general.

As tolerant as the driver might be of Mugen's fragrant companion, he doesn't miss the opportunity to wrinkle his nose at the musky beastman making himself comfy next to her. In return, the manticore pulls on a scowl that the driver will be forced to catch glimpses of in the rear-view mirror for the rest of the ride. He figures he should embrace this time to make sure his stink eye was in top shape, if anything.]

Edited 2015-02-27 06:37 (UTC)

[She really could've, tbh...

But so they don't get tossed out halfway, Koshōshō finds a lot to talk about. About the mountains, about the incidents before, how horrid, how bloody, and how fortunate they all are to live in this part of Bavan where all the 'more dangerous' don't go. (The one who says that is the most dangerous of them all.) She also talks about wages, about housing, about how the water was absolutely filthy last Friday, the technician for the water plant ought to be sacked--]

Oh, we're here!

[If Mugen somehow manages to live through that, they'll step out of the taxi to stare at a mansion.

Welcome to hell, Mugen. She's already got the collar ready.]

[Horrid and bloody stories captivate Mugen's interests, however. It's not obvious how much attention he's paying. Or maybe it is. Koshosho's been dealing with him long enough; she might've sussed out that the blank expression he's wearing is actually his 'listening intently' face. The fact that he's not interrupting her is also another good sign, at least up until she strays back into useless nagging about the city. He unzips his lips then, letting his comments fly as spiritedly as ever.

But both legs of the conversation are distracting enough that the collar's out of his mind by the time they're on the pathway leading up to the over the obnoxiously fancy building.

Mugen gives a long, low whistle.] How friggin' loaded are these people? And why the hell're they botherin' to feud over some gloomy old castle when they've got this place.

[I mean, damn.

The thought that he's going to be walking through those doors and eating up their food in a matter of minutes is getting him psyched. It's too bad that as soon as he turns, he's met with the offensive sight of the thing dangling from the nymph's hands. Mugen freezes.]

[She pays attention. To the people who are 'loyal' to her, at least. It won't be long till her misfortune drives them away, of course, but she takes note. Perhaps she already knows, or she doesn't yet.]

Oh, the castle is much bigger than this mansion. [And Koshōshō says that so offhandedly, it's like she knows that fact personally.] And it's a historical landmark, I suppose.

[Speaking of which.

Koshōshō pops the collar open, and gets out of the taxi with a wink which might be directed at either men (did she even pay-!?). Once Mugen is out, she's going to slap the thing right across his neck.

At least she doesn't have a string to actually leash him... maybe.]

[And there he stands, leather flush against the circumference of his furry neck, pride wounded. He's a grown ass man, a criminal with an innumerable body count, a warrior in a fucking dog's collar. It may not actually stop him from acting on his own free will in whatever way he damn well pleases, but what it symbolizes to anyone who may look in his direction is chafing... and literally chafing. Dang. He tugs at it with a claw, attempting to adjust it.]

Well...?

[There's really not much else to say. Honestly. How bad does it look?]

Edited 2015-03-04 23:57 (UTC)

[She steps away.

She's smirking.

But hey, she isn't laughing.]

Absolutely perfect! You can barely see it against your fur, except for the spikes. Let's walk in, then. Oh, bouncer--!

[Koshōshō waves at some stereotypically foreboding-looking man at the entrance, not at all fearful of his appearance.] I've brought the manticore our host so desperately wanted to meet. Open the doors, dear!

[You can spit on him, Mugen, she'll permit that.]

[Does someone want to tell him what the point of this was again?

Anyone?

Anyone at all?

But spitting's reserved for special occasions, y'know, like when he's faced with the kind of delicate pussy who'd be especially appalled to come into contact with something from his mouth, the booze-guzzling, scrap-eating vagrant.

Nevertheless, as they pass, Mugen brushes the bouncer hard enough with his shoulder to skew the lapels of his suit. Just a minor grievance not quite worthy of justifying him trying to manhandle the awaited guest of the man who signs his paycheck, right?]

[The moment they walk into the room, it's just lights everywhere.

When was the damn light bulb invented? Because they're probably this fucking expensive and this is probably not at all cost-efficient. But the marble floors are shining with the artificial light, and not a single candle can be seen.

There's gawking, of course, but the people here at least more civilized than people who yank on her vines. They just stare a lot more.]

It's me, darlings! Could you please tell me where our dear host is? Oh, there you are!

[The crowd will part like the Red Sea once Koshōshō gets moving. Just shake the old guy's hand, Mugen. Come on.]

[ N O ]

[Look at that hand, look at that creepy, liver spotted sack of skin. Dust is gonna puff out of this guy's joints, if his heart doesn't stop first.

Mugen lets himself hunch a little, teeth peeking from a slight snarl playing across his face. Too wild to speak would mean too wild for manners, right? You wanted a dumb beast you've got one, because he is paying that hand zero mind.

He'll stare him dead in the eye, though. Stare downs are always free.]

[You shake the hand, woman.]

[Come on god fucking dammit--

Koshōshō's composure only slips for a slight eye twitch, before she steps forward first. Yes, she'll shake that hand.] Good evening! This is the manticore I was talking about. He's a bit shy.

[Yeah, right.

The fact that she knows no one will buy that just makes everything a bit more funnier and bit more pathetic.]

Come here, Mugen!

[No doubt in his mind, she's getting some kind of sick pleasure out of this. He doesn't have to be a psychic to figure that out.

As he sidles up closer to Koshōshō at her word, Mugen drags his gaze over their decrepit host and accompanying party-goers like a scythe. It's the next best thing to actually cutting them in two when his hands were tied like this.

He'll keep following her, but that's all he'll do. Damnit.]

[Look, you've got to admit, this is pretty funny.

Koshōshō extends a hand to Mugen, and smiles back at the host.] Here he is.

[And then--]

Isn't he adorable?

[Welp.]

[Why yes, he does think he's... well, adorable isn't the word he'd use. Devilishly handsome, more like.

So how long's mister moneybags going to stare? Wait-- No. Wait. He takes that back! Just keep staring. Don't--

The host reaches out and brushes his fingers through the fur covering Mugen's collarbones, very lightly, as though he were touching a roped off exhibit at a museum. He rubs a lock of it between his thumb and forefinger, inspecting the texture, then steps in a small circle around the manticore, tugging the mane attached to his spine. All the while, Mugen's face is doing a subtle dance. His eyebrows? Twitching. Mouth? Also twitching. And his eyes are definitely wider now.

Overall he looks Vaguely Creeped Out.

KOSHOSHO. WHAT THE FUCK. DO SOMETHING BEFORE- yeah, pops, that barb back there is smooth. You don't have to fucking-- KOSHOSHO. HELP.]

[nah

In all honesty, she seriously doesn't feel like moving. She's just standing there, arms crossed, smile across her face as the host-- inspects him? At least he hasn't moved onto petting his hair, or tugging on his collar.

--Ah, speak of the devil, he's about to pet Mugen's head. Alright, for both their sakes, Koshōshō decides to step in.]

Oh, don't do that too much, darling! Like I said, he's shy. Too much of this, and he'll hide away.

[Yep. Totally.] He doesn't look too well. Perhaps I'll take him on a walk, first. I'm sure you have many other people to meet!

[Wow. He really, truly despises every single thing about what Koshōshō just said, but he'll take it over being felt up by grandpappy back there. The moment they're out of human earshot, Mugen hisses under his breath.]

So where's our guy at? D'ya see him yet?

[Koshōshō spends her time grabbing a glass of wine (or... something from a servant first, before swilling it with her vines. At this point, Mugen might know it's her action for thinking.]

There. [She points to someone standing near the other side of the room-- perfect, they're already slightly low-profile. They might not notice his disappearance for a time.] Let's act out on the excuse that you need to go outside, then. I'll speak to him, and we can 'continue the conversation' away from others.

[And she begins to saunter towards their target.]

[Mugen skips snagging any refreshments, reminding himself he can buy all the grub he wants later. The fewer distractions, the sooner they could get to the good part.]

Could always tell 'em I have to take a piss.

[100% bitter snark.]

[--Ah, well, she honestly could. He is a dog, after all.]

A walk would be more elegant. Though perhaps if I say that, he'll be caught a bit more off-guard.

[But maybe she's actually considering the thought of entertaining Mugen's banter, and when their target catches Koshōshō in his eyes, he greets her first.

Perfect.] Hello, sweetie. Richards, isn't it? How are you doing?

[This is the cue for Mugen to act uncomfortable. As if it was really acting.]

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