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[conspecifics]

@dogboy*

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open season.

OPEN SEASON

@dogboy
24 / m / straight / 2♠️*

About Photos Questions Personality Compatibility

Details

My Self-Summary

His name is Kirma and he’s illiterate. I’m helping him fill this out, but honestly speaking, it’s a complete waste. Besides that, don’t you think his rank is unfairly high? Even though it’s still in the single digits, it’s not as if he wouldn’t be at home in the basement levels. If someone could send my complaints along to the house, I’d appreciate it.

My Future Plans

Surviving?

My Talents

Chasing sticks. Eating absurd quantities of garbage. Fouling up perfectly nice beds. Trampling flowers.

Favorite Books, Movies, Music, and Food

Meat.

My Ideal Partner

Someone skilled at training dogs.

Height 169cm / ~5’7 Body Type fine Smokes apparently Drinks i think so Drugs maybe Sign ? Education laughable Occupation unemployed Income unpaid Children none? Pets he is one Hobbies cooking

art credit: one. two. three. four. five.

01. WINE OR BEER

BEER

.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES

“WHAT'S A MIME”

.03 SHOWER OR BATH

NEITHER

.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS

PIRATES? WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THESE

.05 TITS OR ASS

.06 COFFEE OR TEA

.07 SPICY OR SWEET

.08 SUMMER OR WINTER

.09 LEATHER OR LACE

10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX

Personality Type
ISFP-A

ENERGY

73%

introverted

MIND

76%

observant

NATURE

66%

feeling

TACTICS

54%

prospecting

IDENTITY

75%

assertive

personality test. art credit.

hover for rating.

Comments

[conspecifics]

( …

honestly, he doesn’t know what he expected. nothing on his face changes when esi goes bust, and as the rest of the table circles around with their bets, he flips his hidden card to reveal another 10, of clubs. a hard 20 is a good hand to stand on, without any further planning, and thus does he unintentionally win the first hand of the night. chips are pushed towards him, and grumbles are heard. how unfair, for a strange dog to show up and have such a lucky hand.

maybe this will be harder than he thought. )

You’re trying to stay below twenty-one. ( he offers, helpfully, as if it were possible for esi to not know that. the dealer passes out another set of cards, and kirma notes that they’re still playing with the deck as it is— something to consider, in his probabilities.

this round, his cards are a visible 6, and, after he checks, a hidden ace. soft 17. ignoring the other players for now, he considers how he can adjust this to get things into esi’s hands, a task potentially easier said than done. at least he has the flexibility of chips; esi’s side is looking woefully low, in comparison. )

Could walk you through your hand— but do you trust me?

( he guesses the answer is no, at least in this context. )

[loosestrifes]

( Suspicious. Esikko doesn't even look away from his cards at first, staring hard at the numbers before deciding on staying as he is. It's only then that he looks Kirma's way, his expression dubious. )

Is that even allowed? ( not an answer. )

[conspecifics]

( … right. there’s rules to these things, aren’t there. a quick glance at the dealer and their withering glare sort of answers the question on its own, but that isn’t the point— it’s the second part of his question that he wanted the answer to, and esi’s reluctance said enough there, too. fine. he signals to the dealer that he wants to double down, then, and as the increase to his wager— he tosses that all-too-familiar book down on the table. though the other patrons are dubious as to its value, there’s something inherent to it being an item not of the casino, and that’s enough to dispel any argument against it.

the part that kirma didn’t account for was the dealer passing him a 4. here is where things start to go wrong. kirma’s failing at the card tables isn’t his luck, but his inability to hide it; at seeing the number (or more accurately, counting the symbols on the card), his ears and tail both shoot up straight, eyes wide. clearly, it’s either very good, or very bad. no in-between. )

Ah—

( the look he shoots back towards esi is assuredly a guilty one, from the way his ears sink back down. uh oh! )

[loosestrifes]

( The journal being tossed onto the table like that has Esikko nearly popping a blood vessel. He tenses, his cards bending slightly in his hold before he shifts to his right hand, beneath the table, now gripping so tightly at Kirma's thigh that he threatens to rip something right off. )

Why. Is that there.

( Betting it? BETTING IT? What's that expression? Is it good? Is it bad? If it's good, why is he looking like that, when everyone's going to know!! He's going to kill this dog any second now. )

[conspecifics]

( ow? the grip is hard enough to make him wince; he had no idea esi's hands could have so much strength. maybe the, uh, previous incident empowered them some? either way: )

... You wouldn't turn around.

( therefore, it's esi's fault. obviously. the none-too-subtle reactions between the two of them at least get a little more interest from their tablemates, and one goes bust in his ambition to claim— whatever this is. still unclear! )

Just— play your hand.

( sweaty plinky wolf goes here. )

[loosestrifes]

( Esikko gives him a long, hard stare before he releases that grip, returning his attention to the table. Ignoring the stares and the actions of others, he plays his pathetic hand. He's not winning this.

So Kirma better. )

[conspecifics]

( as always, he's in luck. sort of. nobody else at the table can beat a soft 21; as he flips his cards to a chorus of groans and curses, the dealer has already fixed him with a suspicious stare, perhaps recognizing him from a previous visit. hurriedly, kirma picks the book back up— his prize, after all— and tugs on esi's sleeve as a sign of, let's get out of here. the rest of the chips lay abandoned, which might help to smooth things over some, if ever he returns.

once they're away from the tables, kirma again gives esi that guilty sidelong glance, and holds the journal out to him. his tail moves, just a little, today in a gesture of appeasement rather than excitement. god i really need a wolfpleady icon. )

I was hoping you'd win it.

( but it's okay because he still got it back, right??? )

... I did get it for you.

( so you can't be too mad, right???????? )

[loosestrifes]

Win?

( By the time Esikko speaks again, they're already out of the Roost, and his steps are quick. Reaching over, he aims to snatch the journal right back, desperate to flip through it— but in private. Kirma's room. )

I'm terrible at these stupid games, which is why I've been trying to practice. And what if you hadn't had your luck for one turn? Do you think it's cute to throw something this valuable across the table in a bet?

( Scold scold scold...

But. After a moment, and a particularly rough sigh, he lowers his voice. )

...How did you get this?

[conspecifics]

( well— yes? it was a little cute, even if esi doesn't want to admit it. kirma huffs slightly at the insinuation that it was anything but. there's a clearly unfair dichotomy forming: if he's too serious, he's told to lighten up, and if he tries to have a little fun, he gets yelled at... )

It was a prize. ( ... ) I did ask for it specifically.

( anything (small) in the world— no, the multiverse— and he still thought of esi first. where is his prize for being such a good dog. he's tempted to snatch it back, just to be petty. )

Next time, I'll let you get what you want yourself. ( harf )

[loosestrifes]

( He... asked for it?

Esikko does slow his steps a little at that news, but his lips curve more into a strained frown. There's silence, too, for a handful of steps forward as he presses his fingertips to the cover of the journal, being sure that it feels the same as he remembers. )

You asked for it? ...Why?

( He can't help the suspicious tone that comes with it, his eyebrows furrowing at the journal. He doesn't know how to look at Kirma just yet, still puzzling this out. )

[conspecifics]

( what kind of a question... kirma doesn't realize esi has slowed until he pulls ahead, at which point he stops and turns to look back at him. his head tilts, in a lack of understanding. )

Thought you would've wanted it.

( and up until this point, esi's reactions had hardly indicated otherwise. was he really mistaken? why does he sound like that? )

Should I not have?

[loosestrifes]

...No, it's not that. I've been missing this dearly.

( He breathes slowly, then pulls the journal against his chest, arms crossed over it. Finally, the prince looks towards Kirma, his thoughtful frown still in place. )

Thank you. ( ... ) But what is it that you want in exchange?

[conspecifics]

( boy are you stupid? )

[conspecifics]

I don't want anything.

( it's frustrating, how much people keep asking him this. the assumption that everything has a catch— though he understands the sentiment, especially in this place, esi of all people should know better. how much has he already done for him without a single thing in return?

is it just that at the end of the day, their lives are too distant to ever stand in the same place together? )

Let's go back, already. ( he can't sulk properly about this in the hallways. )

[loosestrifes]

( At first, Esikko is silent, nodding and moving so that they can head towards Kirma's suite. The elevators, then the hallway...

At some point during this, he speaks up again in a quiet, thoughtful voice. At least the frown is gone from his face now. )

There's really nothing you could think of asking for for yourself?

[conspecifics]

( he already struggles enough with unlocking the door, so of course esi has to ask then, interrupting the concentration he needs to get them in the suite. the look he shoots him is a dark one, at first— )

No.

( — yet his voice is softer than usual, when he responds. his gaze falls to the doorknob; it isn't an entirely truthful response, either. most of the few things he had to his name couldn't hold a candle to the replacements he can buy purely on a whim, here. there's one thing that's irreplaceable, maybe, but... )

Even if there was. It wouldn't have changed my choice.

( he isn't your bodyguard because he wanted to be, remember. )

[loosestrifes]

( He... doesn't understand.

Esikko's expression is difficult to read right now, but that's because he doesn't know what he's feeling. It's both pleasant and not, uncomfortable and not. When the door is finally open, he presses through as normal, but his fingertips are fidgeting with the edges of the pages on his journal. )

Do you value yourself so little?

[conspecifics]

( i'll take things you shouldn't just ask people for 500, alex. )

What does it matter, one way or another?

( his words come out in a terse beat, and the door gets shut with a little too much force. how do you even answer that— yes, of course, would you prefer i jump higher or lower? this was supposed to be a happy occasion, not one for digging into uncomfortable truths.

there's too much esi still doesn't know, and he'd prefer to keep it that way. even if there are— things— he remembers, who's to say those are anything more than hallucinations granted by the powers that control this place— their relationship was only meant to be transactional, from the very beginning. and if esi can't even take a gift in good faith—

maybe that's all it should be. )

If you're going to be up all night reading that thing, at least keep the lights low.

[loosestrifes]

( He's not sure what it is that he did to warrant this anger. He's not sure about a lot of this. But while Esikko almost moves to get ready for bed, he pauses, looking towards Kirma. )

Kirma?

( He waits, hoping for a glance back, or at least a pause. )

Thank you.

[conspecifics]

( and a pause he gets, even though kirma is otherwise turned away. his ears fold back, but he says nothing; once the moment passes, he brushes past esi to go to the bed. though a sincere (he hopes) thanks does take the edge off some, he'll be going to sleep without another word. )