( Greetings surround him as he makes his way down the velvet carpeting. At this system hour, most guests have been dismissed from their VIP gatherings and only his staff remains. Gloved and poised, trained to the utmost elegance to satisfy Sunday's tastes. All must be perfect and in order.
In accordance to their plans, he expects Caelus' skills to be awaiting him within his private quarters in the Dewlight Pavilion. Permission has long been granted, giving Caelus no issues to set up his station as Sunday's private bartender and by extension, entertainer.
From carpeting to polished marble, his footsteps echo across the floor towards the familiar face. Can Caelus spot that slight shift of his lips, twitching into a sneer. He's not following his dress code but expects such rebellious nature from Caelus. Always when Sunday least expects it. Left field lines, loneliness, provocative glances.
Sunday stops at the bar, gold facing gold. Who is manipulating who, when Caelus is the one willing to insert himself deep inside Sunday's advantage? His gaze lowers to his parted shirt, tracing his display of protruding bones and clear flesh. Then the array of ingredients before him and all the tools of mixology. )
If it isn't my guest of honor. This day has been extensive so I'm glad you could spare a night from your usual job, Mr. Caelus. I take it you're faring better than other lonely nights?
I would like something creamy and refreshing, nothing too sweet.
no subject
In accordance to their plans, he expects Caelus' skills to be awaiting him within his private quarters in the Dewlight Pavilion. Permission has long been granted, giving Caelus no issues to set up his station as Sunday's private bartender and by extension, entertainer.
From carpeting to polished marble, his footsteps echo across the floor towards the familiar face. Can Caelus spot that slight shift of his lips, twitching into a sneer. He's not following his dress code but expects such rebellious nature from Caelus. Always when Sunday least expects it. Left field lines, loneliness, provocative glances.
Sunday stops at the bar, gold facing gold. Who is manipulating who, when Caelus is the one willing to insert himself deep inside Sunday's advantage? His gaze lowers to his parted shirt, tracing his display of protruding bones and clear flesh. Then the array of ingredients before him and all the tools of mixology. )
If it isn't my guest of honor. This day has been extensive so I'm glad you could spare a night from your usual job, Mr. Caelus. I take it you're faring better than other lonely nights?
I would like something creamy and refreshing, nothing too sweet.