@Hekazu suggestion. find your character’s glamour picture and write in the description how they really look. It’s easier to find a decent human picture than a monster picture! Even though having the monster picture is always nice.
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@Hekazu oh my goodness. My character whoever they may be, might be a loyal customer. I love seamstress concepts. Fashion!
Is anyone going to work at the cafe? I might make a chef! Since I think the wait staff usually is a popular option. But, if it isn’t that is my second option. I still haven’t found a picture calling me yet so race is pending.
Added: I know beast is making a bartender
Added: I know beast is making a bartender
@DocRock as someone who helped Ally flesh out this idea, her character from the first time she brought this rp to a site was more alien than fantasy. I’m pretty sure she wants people to be as creative as they can be, but keep in mind that she wants this to be a more fluffy slice of life story!
@ShwiggityShwah@Wistful Dreams@BeastofDestiny that goes for y’all too! Ally isn’t very picky she just wants variety.
Of course be careful making a creature that can destroy the cafe easily and add some limiters or have them in their glamour for the sake of not breaking the building xD
Added: I’m sure the building is built to handle most monsters, but still.
@ShwiggityShwah@Wistful Dreams@BeastofDestiny that goes for y’all too! Ally isn’t very picky she just wants variety.
Of course be careful making a creature that can destroy the cafe easily and add some limiters or have them in their glamour for the sake of not breaking the building xD
Added: I’m sure the building is built to handle most monsters, but still.
I’m too tired to decide on a picture lol. Since there are many options I can do. I will save character making for another day!
@Allycat firstttt!
Those in his general vicinity
Little Dove @ineffable, Tavi & Nini @Hoekage, Klaus @GhostMami,
(and indirectly) Avyanna @QueenNugget & Doc @Altered Tundra
Little Dove @ineffable, Tavi & Nini @Hoekage, Klaus @GhostMami,
(and indirectly) Avyanna @QueenNugget & Doc @Altered Tundra
Royalty was a circus. Those that sought power, craved the spotlight, and thought they were a god among men, the prideful lions, never broke their act. This decree in itself was a power move. Dmitri Tepes presumably wanted his own to rip each other apart, building an empire they can call their own, thanks to him. It seemed more like natural selection for the young wolf among lions — get rid of the weaker links, find humans and use them as resources, and ultimately, build to his prestige.
Thy kingdom come.
People who believed this would break the status quo were terribly mistaken. Emiliano side glanced toward his friends, pulling out his cigarette and easing smoke out of his lips. To think Dmitri was doing this out of the kindness of his heart was a fool's error. He held the crown and unless his throne was bathed in blood, there was no way in hell he'd forfeit his sit. Unless, he wanted to prepare them for something bigger than this game of power. Without the idea of succession, wouldn't they be as mundane as the humans they feed on? Life would be terribly boring if they stopped having political differences and aimed for nothing. It would be a long and tedious existence to live.
Vampires have faced numerous wars, with humans, with werewolves, and with witches. It wasn't unlikely that this was a calm before the storm. If the future of vampires, such as Octavius, Niklaus, Kasania, and himself could not handle figuring out what their own ideals were, which is what houses are primarily based off on, and couldn't handle recruiting, seeing humans more as soldiers, enemies, or food, than how could they handle the endless wars that aim to make the vampire race extinct? They wouldn't. They couldn't. They'd be dead.
Did he see himself becoming a Lieutenant General for this great, kingly agenda Dmitri aspired to make real? No.
Did he see himself having his own house, with brides and a purpose to groom vampires into his likeness? No.
Milo knew what he wanted. He wanted a union for people who didn't want to pledge to a house. He wanted to build a safe place for a community of people who didn't mind assisting in dirty jobs. Lethal works, high risk, high reward, all contract based. Servitude gets old, real quick, and it was only a matter of time when his family would crack and go rogue. If he could prevent that from happening, that would be preferable.
His eyes set on Avyanna, who was the first to initiate a conversation with them. She seemed peculiar. Subtle actions, like pulling the chair so that it made an annoying sound on the ground, showed she wanted to be noticed. Maybe not to be extra and showy, but surely to grab their attention. Why else would she come to the group with mostly royals that just made a scene? With an inkling of intrigue, she could use them, as she probably thought they were thinking the same for her. If only vampires left their motives visible and on their breakfast plates then chit-chat wouldn't be necessary.
Though, what's the fun in that?
Shortly after, his eyes with earthy hues mischievously glinted when they fell on a doe-eyed Artois royal, who gave him a look that made his mouth curve into a jester grin. While Dominic Wells, the rarity among Zenos, grabbed his brother's attention, Milo's dark, predatorial gaze never wavered from the speechless bird's innocent face. She may not know him, but he surely knew her. As a dog of the Mob, he spent years studying people, her's icluded. Kasania, of course, was the first to respond, with quick wit and sass. Always sass.
“Kasania Tepes, it’s nice to meet you Avyanna. Hopefully, your friend here hasn’t forgotten her name after stealing those cute glances at Emiliano here.”
"Don't be unkind, Nini." He flicked the ash from his cigarette into his glass of water. In his silent scrutiny, rolling his eyes at Tavi as he walked away in the direction of 'business', Milo inhaled deeply, the smoke seeping into his cells. It was losing its kick. He should light another one...
Charming Niklaus eased the tension by playing the gentleman his father raised and Milo couldn't help but shake his head, easily catching onto his intention with the, "Little Dove." Emiliano stepped forward and put his chin on Kasania's shoulder, knowing very well she might not like him touching her so friendly in public, especially since he and her could never be an item. He wasn't her type. The fact that Irene broke the conversation and went out of her way to go get her drink THEN come back to them was endearingly... sweet. "If a man offers you a drink, you should take it. Even if you don't plan on sleeping with him." Giving her a teasing wink, he smirked and then pouted, "Klaus never buys me drinks." Faux sadness washed over him as he looked at his best friend in hope and jealousy.
If she wanted to know his full name, she could inquire, for now she can know him as Emiliano, as said by Nia, and Milo, as said by Tavi. Not wanting to give the floor immediately to his friends, he continued, still staying his ground, pressing his chin ever so roughly against the perfect princess' skin, "On a scale of one to ten, how nervous are you?" Blunt and straight to the point. Irene would need to learn how to handle people like him, people like Kasania, people like Niklaus, if she wanted to come out on top. There were worst out there. It was a no brainer when you looked at him, you saw a man with a background of sin. His hands weren't clean, his stare was detached, and his heart was far from gold. He simply did his job and he did his job well.
Perhaps, he needed to break her to build her up?
That was an interesting thought.
Thy kingdom come.
People who believed this would break the status quo were terribly mistaken. Emiliano side glanced toward his friends, pulling out his cigarette and easing smoke out of his lips. To think Dmitri was doing this out of the kindness of his heart was a fool's error. He held the crown and unless his throne was bathed in blood, there was no way in hell he'd forfeit his sit. Unless, he wanted to prepare them for something bigger than this game of power. Without the idea of succession, wouldn't they be as mundane as the humans they feed on? Life would be terribly boring if they stopped having political differences and aimed for nothing. It would be a long and tedious existence to live.
Vampires have faced numerous wars, with humans, with werewolves, and with witches. It wasn't unlikely that this was a calm before the storm. If the future of vampires, such as Octavius, Niklaus, Kasania, and himself could not handle figuring out what their own ideals were, which is what houses are primarily based off on, and couldn't handle recruiting, seeing humans more as soldiers, enemies, or food, than how could they handle the endless wars that aim to make the vampire race extinct? They wouldn't. They couldn't. They'd be dead.
Did he see himself becoming a Lieutenant General for this great, kingly agenda Dmitri aspired to make real? No.
Did he see himself having his own house, with brides and a purpose to groom vampires into his likeness? No.
Milo knew what he wanted. He wanted a union for people who didn't want to pledge to a house. He wanted to build a safe place for a community of people who didn't mind assisting in dirty jobs. Lethal works, high risk, high reward, all contract based. Servitude gets old, real quick, and it was only a matter of time when his family would crack and go rogue. If he could prevent that from happening, that would be preferable.
His eyes set on Avyanna, who was the first to initiate a conversation with them. She seemed peculiar. Subtle actions, like pulling the chair so that it made an annoying sound on the ground, showed she wanted to be noticed. Maybe not to be extra and showy, but surely to grab their attention. Why else would she come to the group with mostly royals that just made a scene? With an inkling of intrigue, she could use them, as she probably thought they were thinking the same for her. If only vampires left their motives visible and on their breakfast plates then chit-chat wouldn't be necessary.
Though, what's the fun in that?
Shortly after, his eyes with earthy hues mischievously glinted when they fell on a doe-eyed Artois royal, who gave him a look that made his mouth curve into a jester grin. While Dominic Wells, the rarity among Zenos, grabbed his brother's attention, Milo's dark, predatorial gaze never wavered from the speechless bird's innocent face. She may not know him, but he surely knew her. As a dog of the Mob, he spent years studying people, her's icluded. Kasania, of course, was the first to respond, with quick wit and sass. Always sass.
“Kasania Tepes, it’s nice to meet you Avyanna. Hopefully, your friend here hasn’t forgotten her name after stealing those cute glances at Emiliano here.”
"Don't be unkind, Nini." He flicked the ash from his cigarette into his glass of water. In his silent scrutiny, rolling his eyes at Tavi as he walked away in the direction of 'business', Milo inhaled deeply, the smoke seeping into his cells. It was losing its kick. He should light another one...
Charming Niklaus eased the tension by playing the gentleman his father raised and Milo couldn't help but shake his head, easily catching onto his intention with the, "Little Dove." Emiliano stepped forward and put his chin on Kasania's shoulder, knowing very well she might not like him touching her so friendly in public, especially since he and her could never be an item. He wasn't her type. The fact that Irene broke the conversation and went out of her way to go get her drink THEN come back to them was endearingly... sweet. "If a man offers you a drink, you should take it. Even if you don't plan on sleeping with him." Giving her a teasing wink, he smirked and then pouted, "Klaus never buys me drinks." Faux sadness washed over him as he looked at his best friend in hope and jealousy.
If she wanted to know his full name, she could inquire, for now she can know him as Emiliano, as said by Nia, and Milo, as said by Tavi. Not wanting to give the floor immediately to his friends, he continued, still staying his ground, pressing his chin ever so roughly against the perfect princess' skin, "On a scale of one to ten, how nervous are you?" Blunt and straight to the point. Irene would need to learn how to handle people like him, people like Kasania, people like Niklaus, if she wanted to come out on top. There were worst out there. It was a no brainer when you looked at him, you saw a man with a background of sin. His hands weren't clean, his stare was detached, and his heart was far from gold. He simply did his job and he did his job well.
Perhaps, he needed to break her to build her up?
That was an interesting thought.
On his giant LoveSac crimson pillow, sprawled out in his Calvin Klein boxer briefs, Damon had his left arm over his eyes in defeat. His unreasonably large master closet that sported the colors of black, white, and red, was the primary home for his large collection of sunglasses and sneakers. He had to get away from the attached room of his closet, where his clothes resided in. His clothes that once were neatly folded or on a hanger in a specific place, color coordinated, was now completely on the floor, and looked like vomit.
What had he done?
Originally, his goal was to find a decent disguise for the town hall meeting, so no one would jump him, but it was turning out to be quite the chore. The downside of fame and not being the most liked in a beautiful city, amiright? Sighing to himself, he tuned out the rap song to focus on the matter at hand. The sooner he solved this dilemma, the better off he'd be. Unfortunately, he was useless without his publicist, Sylvester "Sly" Sullivan, who also took care of his wardrobe and make up. That fucker went on vacation, like it was OKAY to take a break from HIM. On top of that, he took Damon's ageless nanny mentor, Rocco Gray (or just Mr. Gray), with him! They've been gone for almost a month now and he was absolutely hopeless without them.
It's all Creed's fault for allowing them some downtime, like how Damon's been allowed some downtime to produce material he cares about. So far, six months of downtime. Like, who did Creed think he was? Calling all the shots? It was like he was his manager or something! (He was). Scoffing to himself, Damon turned to his side and stared at his large wall of shoes. His eyes zoned in on his Air Jordan 5 Oregon Ducks. He hadn't worn those in awhile. Actually, the last time he wore those was when he met...
Lily.
Collab with @The Muse
Having slipped away from the trio of DOOM, the ones that kept tabs on him for his father — Sly, Gray, and worst of all, Creed — DDay, with a fitted cap on, a hoodie over his head, aviators on his face, and a cool 'I'm normal' demeanor, found himself in a place of unrestrained joy. They were only passing by, since Damon had a concert the next day in Portland. His tour bus was on the outskirts somewhere and his excuse was: I need to stretch my legs. Surprisingly, they bought it, when really, he was just bored.
Where were they again? He turned to see a large banner hanging from the balcony of the town hall, Emerald-festopia! Welcome to Emerald City! His feet had a mind of their own, as he walked through a crowd of people in costume that reminded him of a summer garden. Was it...? It was October, wasn't it? On top of this town being a gardener's paradise, with the most gorgeous and well taken care of plants, the people were spirited and full of revelry, like this was their world, away from everything else. Their little nook within this place we called America. While yes, this festival had Halloween themes, it was more focused on the culture and the people. There were flickering candles, a market dedicated to local businesses and spices, children with elaborate face paints as woodland sprites, nymphs, and other fantastical creatures, and a wave of music that reminded him of a street party, with performers of every type. Jugglers, magicians, and even artisans.
To say the celebrity was a child discovering cake for the first time was an understatement. His life was flashy and one would think he would've seen something just as beautiful as this, but he hadn't. With intrigue and excitement, he strode toward the stand where there was an old lady yelling, "Marionberry pie! Free Marionberry pie! Berries straight from Oakley ranch!"
"Free?" The concept of free pie being offered at an event that looked like it could make a lot of money off their townspeople baffled the idol.
"Of course, boy! We always give out free pie." The stranger welcomed him with a gleaming, warm smile and started cutting him two slices, knowing very well he wasn't from here, "Sweetie, you need to eat more. Doesn't your mother feed you? Too much muscle, not enough fat!"
"...my mother?" Before he knew it, he had a paper plate in his hand and a plastic spork. People stepped in front of him to get some pie for themselves, and in response, he stepped back, to give them space. Turning on his heel to see a cellist go on the platform stage to perform, he giddily stabbed the pie and shoved a piece in his trap.
This was fucking delicious.
"Logan, NO! Don’t you DARE! NO!"
Like a flash of lightning, a petite raven haired girl sprinted from her group of friends and into the crowd. She weaved and bobbed around people, trying desperately to get away from her pursuer; a young blue haired boy holding out a piece of Marionberry pie.
"Come on, Lil! I think the red will match your skin tone!”
"NOOO! eeEEEEEE!!!!" She squealed in a high pitched tone as he got closer to smashing the pie in her face and decided to take a sharp right turn, carelessly.
SMACK.
The girl crashed right into a man wearing a hoodie and aviators.
"Oh Shit-" Before she could do anything, the plate the man was holding went flying and landed partially on his seemingly brand new shoes.
The blue haired kid froze in his tracks, mouth agape for a brief moment before he burst out laughing and took off, wanting nothing to do with the situation. The raven haired girl had been left to die.
"I-” Her face flushed as she examined the strangers face for any sort of anger, "I am SO sorry, sir." She frantically turned to gather napkins from the nearby pie stand. Quickly, she bent down and began wiping off his shoes, though it didn’t seem to help the red stain very much. The berries had already done their damage…
She looked up at him, her blue-green eyes finally taking a moment to notice whether or not she knew this person. With a sinking feeling, she recognized exactly who this person was. Damon-Fucking-DAY!!! What was he doing in Emerald City?! And why was he, not so successfully, trying to hide his beautiful face?
Luckily she had always been quick on her feet, and figured she shouldn’t make a big deal out of it. Clearly, he did not want to be recognized here. Instead of fan-girling out over him, she flashed him her classic charismatic smile.
"You know, I don’t usually get on my knees on the first date. Consider yourself lucky.” She winked, hoping to god that this would lighten up the situation. Please, PLEASE don’t let Damon Day be as big of a diva as he seemed from the outside…
Stunned. These shoes were… eight thousand dollars. It wasn’t like he shat out money! He had to EARN it. Still, everything happened so fast. From the little dude running around with good-fucking pie in his hands, aiming to waste it (SIN), to the aesthetically pleasing woman bending to clean his Jordans. Should he be upset? Or should he just chill? Like it wasn’t a big deal?
Damon stared at her and then his shoes then back at her…. she was hella’ pretty and as much as he loved being extra, she didn’t deserve his petty wrath (keep in mind, his shoes were his life). Even so, DDay was more upset his pie was no longer edible. Like, why? Why did it have to go and fall? Money could clean his shoes later. Maybe. Those were some deep stains, though. But to reverse the fall of his first pie from Emerald City? That was unsalvageable.
Forfeiting the issue, deciding to be a grown man about the situation, his mismatched gaze examined her fair face, before smirking, "Yeah, you right. I am lucky, ‘cuz I didn’t think angels could get so low.” The idol was obviously in a playful mode, even if he was trying to be ‘mature’. What could he say! He enjoyed this small flirt banter they had going on... "But you know what isn’t lucky? Not finishing my pie!” Priorities, man. Even celebrities had them. So much for flirting.
She giggled at his response, a wave of relief passed through her entire body. "Wow, aren’t you Mr. Smooth?” She stood and tossed the napkins before meeting his gaze again.
"I’m really sorry.” Her bottom lip pouted, "How about this? I’ll buy you a new one, on the house! Oh no, don’t get out your wallet. This one is on me, for sure.” She grinned at him, knowing full well that the pies were handed out for free every year. "Maggie,” She turned to address the old woman who was handing out the pies, "One more pie for my friend here, pretty please.”
Maggie, of course, had been gracious and handed them both plates. "There we go! All better?” She avoided looking at his shoes. Hopefully he had chosen his… least favorite for the day? He had to have more than just this pair… what were the odds?
"I’m sorry for being such a clutz… thanks for being cool. I’m Lily,” She reached out a hand to shake his, "... and you are?” She had decided that playing dumb was best for now. Plus, Lillian was curious if he had a backup “name” for cases like this. Would he be honest or lie to her?
Damon wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box and if he didn’t have a pep talk with Creed prior, which he didn’t, he would’ve been more prepared! In addition, he’d been traveling all day, so his brain was fried. Never one to be able to sleep in a moving vehicle. Anyways, it seemed safe to say his name. She didn’t seem to know him. Maybe he should give his middle name? No one of insignificance knew his middle name. Why was he even worried about this? She was the only one listening to him. So what if she did know him? What would she do? Jump on him like all his other fangirls? Yes… probably. He felt like he was between a rock and a hard place and he didn’t have his voice of reason telling him exactly what to do. He was a music genius! Not a people genius! Deciding the best route was honesty, he smiled wildly, cheesing and showing his pearly whites, all the while grabbing her dainty hand, "Damon. My name is Damon. Actually, I’m, uh…” Words. WORDS. "A big deal.” Clever. He released her hand and as an anxious tick, he adjusted his cap.
Lillian giggled again, fighting an eye-roll. "I’m impressed, Mr. Smooth. I didn’t think you would be honest with me. Props, even though I’m not so sure about how smooth you are anymore after that.” She nudged him with her elbow playfully, as if they had been friends for ages.
"I suppose it’s my turn to be honest.” She leaned in close to his face and lowered her voice to a whisper, ”I knew it was you aaaalll along.” She giggled again and pulled back, smiling at him in triumph. "Well… not... all along… I mean, I didn’t .. run into you on purpose…nothing like that!” Great, now she too had lost her charisma and even managed to make herself sound like a stalker fan. “Distract, Lily! Distract!” Her father's coaching on public speaking came to mind. While it was a last ditch effort, she knew that moving on to the next topic was best when she stuttered or said something incorrect.
"I hope you’re enjoying Emerald City. It’s a beautiful place to be and I’m really glad you’re here, Damon.”
Just like she wanted, Damon overlooked her fangirl moment, actually appreciating the fact that she treated him like a normal person. If he noticed one thing about this hidden gem, it really was a beautiful place where everyone seemed so accepting on the surface, especially Lily, "Me too, Angel. It’s a nice change of pace and honestly? I’d rather be here than LA.” His “home” back in Cali was barren and empty. His father was rarely home, he never knew his mother, and he had three men, not related by blood, raise him most of his life. LA was… different than this city. Or maybe, it was more him than anything.
For the first time, in a long time, he felt a fuzzy feeling. He was dazzled by the city and although he wasn’t aware of it this exact moment, when he looked at the festival and the hope in Lily’s eyes, he could feel himself being drawn in, like a bug attracted to a lamp.
Where were they again? He turned to see a large banner hanging from the balcony of the town hall, Emerald-festopia! Welcome to Emerald City! His feet had a mind of their own, as he walked through a crowd of people in costume that reminded him of a summer garden. Was it...? It was October, wasn't it? On top of this town being a gardener's paradise, with the most gorgeous and well taken care of plants, the people were spirited and full of revelry, like this was their world, away from everything else. Their little nook within this place we called America. While yes, this festival had Halloween themes, it was more focused on the culture and the people. There were flickering candles, a market dedicated to local businesses and spices, children with elaborate face paints as woodland sprites, nymphs, and other fantastical creatures, and a wave of music that reminded him of a street party, with performers of every type. Jugglers, magicians, and even artisans.
To say the celebrity was a child discovering cake for the first time was an understatement. His life was flashy and one would think he would've seen something just as beautiful as this, but he hadn't. With intrigue and excitement, he strode toward the stand where there was an old lady yelling, "Marionberry pie! Free Marionberry pie! Berries straight from Oakley ranch!"
"Free?" The concept of free pie being offered at an event that looked like it could make a lot of money off their townspeople baffled the idol.
"Of course, boy! We always give out free pie." The stranger welcomed him with a gleaming, warm smile and started cutting him two slices, knowing very well he wasn't from here, "Sweetie, you need to eat more. Doesn't your mother feed you? Too much muscle, not enough fat!"
"...my mother?" Before he knew it, he had a paper plate in his hand and a plastic spork. People stepped in front of him to get some pie for themselves, and in response, he stepped back, to give them space. Turning on his heel to see a cellist go on the platform stage to perform, he giddily stabbed the pie and shoved a piece in his trap.
This was fucking delicious.
"Logan, NO! Don’t you DARE! NO!"
Like a flash of lightning, a petite raven haired girl sprinted from her group of friends and into the crowd. She weaved and bobbed around people, trying desperately to get away from her pursuer; a young blue haired boy holding out a piece of Marionberry pie.
"Come on, Lil! I think the red will match your skin tone!”
"NOOO! eeEEEEEE!!!!" She squealed in a high pitched tone as he got closer to smashing the pie in her face and decided to take a sharp right turn, carelessly.
SMACK.
The girl crashed right into a man wearing a hoodie and aviators.
"Oh Shit-" Before she could do anything, the plate the man was holding went flying and landed partially on his seemingly brand new shoes.
The blue haired kid froze in his tracks, mouth agape for a brief moment before he burst out laughing and took off, wanting nothing to do with the situation. The raven haired girl had been left to die.
"I-” Her face flushed as she examined the strangers face for any sort of anger, "I am SO sorry, sir." She frantically turned to gather napkins from the nearby pie stand. Quickly, she bent down and began wiping off his shoes, though it didn’t seem to help the red stain very much. The berries had already done their damage…
She looked up at him, her blue-green eyes finally taking a moment to notice whether or not she knew this person. With a sinking feeling, she recognized exactly who this person was. Damon-Fucking-DAY!!! What was he doing in Emerald City?! And why was he, not so successfully, trying to hide his beautiful face?
Luckily she had always been quick on her feet, and figured she shouldn’t make a big deal out of it. Clearly, he did not want to be recognized here. Instead of fan-girling out over him, she flashed him her classic charismatic smile.
"You know, I don’t usually get on my knees on the first date. Consider yourself lucky.” She winked, hoping to god that this would lighten up the situation. Please, PLEASE don’t let Damon Day be as big of a diva as he seemed from the outside…
Stunned. These shoes were… eight thousand dollars. It wasn’t like he shat out money! He had to EARN it. Still, everything happened so fast. From the little dude running around with good-fucking pie in his hands, aiming to waste it (SIN), to the aesthetically pleasing woman bending to clean his Jordans. Should he be upset? Or should he just chill? Like it wasn’t a big deal?
Damon stared at her and then his shoes then back at her…. she was hella’ pretty and as much as he loved being extra, she didn’t deserve his petty wrath (keep in mind, his shoes were his life). Even so, DDay was more upset his pie was no longer edible. Like, why? Why did it have to go and fall? Money could clean his shoes later. Maybe. Those were some deep stains, though. But to reverse the fall of his first pie from Emerald City? That was unsalvageable.
Forfeiting the issue, deciding to be a grown man about the situation, his mismatched gaze examined her fair face, before smirking, "Yeah, you right. I am lucky, ‘cuz I didn’t think angels could get so low.” The idol was obviously in a playful mode, even if he was trying to be ‘mature’. What could he say! He enjoyed this small flirt banter they had going on... "But you know what isn’t lucky? Not finishing my pie!” Priorities, man. Even celebrities had them. So much for flirting.
She giggled at his response, a wave of relief passed through her entire body. "Wow, aren’t you Mr. Smooth?” She stood and tossed the napkins before meeting his gaze again.
"I’m really sorry.” Her bottom lip pouted, "How about this? I’ll buy you a new one, on the house! Oh no, don’t get out your wallet. This one is on me, for sure.” She grinned at him, knowing full well that the pies were handed out for free every year. "Maggie,” She turned to address the old woman who was handing out the pies, "One more pie for my friend here, pretty please.”
Maggie, of course, had been gracious and handed them both plates. "There we go! All better?” She avoided looking at his shoes. Hopefully he had chosen his… least favorite for the day? He had to have more than just this pair… what were the odds?
"I’m sorry for being such a clutz… thanks for being cool. I’m Lily,” She reached out a hand to shake his, "... and you are?” She had decided that playing dumb was best for now. Plus, Lillian was curious if he had a backup “name” for cases like this. Would he be honest or lie to her?
Damon wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box and if he didn’t have a pep talk with Creed prior, which he didn’t, he would’ve been more prepared! In addition, he’d been traveling all day, so his brain was fried. Never one to be able to sleep in a moving vehicle. Anyways, it seemed safe to say his name. She didn’t seem to know him. Maybe he should give his middle name? No one of insignificance knew his middle name. Why was he even worried about this? She was the only one listening to him. So what if she did know him? What would she do? Jump on him like all his other fangirls? Yes… probably. He felt like he was between a rock and a hard place and he didn’t have his voice of reason telling him exactly what to do. He was a music genius! Not a people genius! Deciding the best route was honesty, he smiled wildly, cheesing and showing his pearly whites, all the while grabbing her dainty hand, "Damon. My name is Damon. Actually, I’m, uh…” Words. WORDS. "A big deal.” Clever. He released her hand and as an anxious tick, he adjusted his cap.
Lillian giggled again, fighting an eye-roll. "I’m impressed, Mr. Smooth. I didn’t think you would be honest with me. Props, even though I’m not so sure about how smooth you are anymore after that.” She nudged him with her elbow playfully, as if they had been friends for ages.
"I suppose it’s my turn to be honest.” She leaned in close to his face and lowered her voice to a whisper, ”I knew it was you aaaalll along.” She giggled again and pulled back, smiling at him in triumph. "Well… not... all along… I mean, I didn’t .. run into you on purpose…nothing like that!” Great, now she too had lost her charisma and even managed to make herself sound like a stalker fan. “Distract, Lily! Distract!” Her father's coaching on public speaking came to mind. While it was a last ditch effort, she knew that moving on to the next topic was best when she stuttered or said something incorrect.
"I hope you’re enjoying Emerald City. It’s a beautiful place to be and I’m really glad you’re here, Damon.”
Just like she wanted, Damon overlooked her fangirl moment, actually appreciating the fact that she treated him like a normal person. If he noticed one thing about this hidden gem, it really was a beautiful place where everyone seemed so accepting on the surface, especially Lily, "Me too, Angel. It’s a nice change of pace and honestly? I’d rather be here than LA.” His “home” back in Cali was barren and empty. His father was rarely home, he never knew his mother, and he had three men, not related by blood, raise him most of his life. LA was… different than this city. Or maybe, it was more him than anything.
For the first time, in a long time, he felt a fuzzy feeling. He was dazzled by the city and although he wasn’t aware of it this exact moment, when he looked at the festival and the hope in Lily’s eyes, he could feel himself being drawn in, like a bug attracted to a lamp.
Jumping off the LoveSac, Damon came to the decision of what he should wear. He’d be damned if he couldn’t get in the town hall meeting! Lily was his first friend and the main reason he decided to take a much needed break for his creativity. Knowing what could've happen to her was his only agenda of the day. His music could wait. How could he live with himself if he went on without finding out more? She gave him hope for a better tomorrow, a less lonely tomorrow, so he had to believe she was okay. He had to do whatever he could, anything in his power, to make sure she was safe. She had to be safe. She had to be alive. Quickly, he ran into his clothing room, disappearing into the jungle, feeling the sting of fear from losing one of the main female figures in his life. He didn't have many.
Ten minutes later, Creed knocked on the door and welcomed himself in Damon's closet, "You need to eat, Atlas." In Damon's home, he had his staff call him by his middle name because it helped bring him back down to Earth. It made him feel normal, like he wasn't made into a money making musician as a child. Part of why he kept it a secret to the public was to keep it special. He could tell who he trusted and they could choose to call him that, or the name everyone knows him by.
"I know, I know, I know. But more importantly, how do I look???"
DDay's agent silently observed his responsibility, who wore an outfit straight out of Gray's wardrobe. "He's going to kill you."
"That doesn't answer my question!" Rolling his eyes, the idol continued to fix his sleeves.
Crossing his arms, leaning his body on a pillar, Creed nodded, actually surprised that Damon's disguise wasn't a complete give away, "Different." The sleeked hair was a nice touch, since DDay never did anything with his unruly hair.
"And one last thing!" He grabbed his Ray Ban sunglasses, nice and black, with a noticeable reflective feature, and smoothly put it on. "Killen' it! Wait, I need sneaks..."
Swiftly and with intimidating ease, Creed swiped the idol's hand from reaching for one of his obnoxiously bright sneaks, "Glasses, sure." Though he thought those particular glasses made the young man peculiar, Creed wasn't going to kill all his joy (yet), "Your shoes, however? Formal."
Damon scoffed and grumbled. "Fine. For Angel. I will. I hate these shoes."
I fly back from my trip tomorrow, so I'll see if I can get a post in after a nap with my cat!!
Damon has been in the area for six months, so feel free to message me if you want some kind of relationship with him! Whether its out of love or hate, I'm pretty open minded.
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