IN THE WOODS - Being sexy prey cw: mention of injury. attempted manipulation
[The Chevalier has been wandering about the forest for hours. Never exactly an expert in navigation, he has walked in circles for far too long, growing increasingly tired and desperate. His feet are bleeding. His hair is a mess. He wants a fucking drink. Exhausted and entirely unimpressed, he catches sight of someone and his survival instincts kick into gear. He does what he knows best and collapses, shifting his legs towards the light so that they are illuminated as flatteringly as possible.]
Is someone out there? [He knows someone is out there.] Please. I do not have the strength. [But perhaps someone who enjoys flattery and wants to feel big and burly just might.]
THE FESTIVAL OF SUMMERTIDE - Consensual drugging. Eat up, babe cw: aphro. drugs. open to men for now, please.
[The Chevalier is no stranger to drugs. Having snorted and sipped more questionable substances than he can count, a bit of sexually charged food doesn't sound all that bothersome. He finds a mark that he thinks looks particularly either handsome or useful and makes prolonged, deliberate eye contact with them as he bites down into a cherry. He slides closer and holds the second cherry of the pair to the man's lips, daring him.]
This isn't your first, is it?
SOMEONE ELSE TRANSFORMS - Freaking out over the whole monster thing
[A town ruled by sex and violence? Fine. That sounds like Paris on a Friday. But the monsters are something else. The Chevalier is tremoring when he rushes up to the nearest person he can find. His voice is feeble, a forced, panicked hush. His eyes are wide and glossy as he paws at the person in front of him, clutching his fingers into the fabric of their shirt.]
I saw...I........creatures. Horrific creatures. [Please believe him. He's not sure he believes it himself.]
Chevalier de Lorraine | Versailles | Diabel
[The Chevalier has been wandering about the forest for hours. Never exactly an expert in navigation, he has walked in circles for far too long, growing increasingly tired and desperate. His feet are bleeding. His hair is a mess. He wants a fucking drink. Exhausted and entirely unimpressed, he catches sight of someone and his survival instincts kick into gear. He does what he knows best and collapses, shifting his legs towards the light so that they are illuminated as flatteringly as possible.]
Is someone out there? [He knows someone is out there.] Please. I do not have the strength. [But perhaps someone who enjoys flattery and wants to feel big and burly just might.]
THE FESTIVAL OF SUMMERTIDE - Consensual drugging. Eat up, babe cw: aphro. drugs. open to men for now, please.
[The Chevalier is no stranger to drugs. Having snorted and sipped more questionable substances than he can count, a bit of sexually charged food doesn't sound all that bothersome. He finds a mark that he thinks looks particularly either handsome or useful and makes prolonged, deliberate eye contact with them as he bites down into a cherry. He slides closer and holds the second cherry of the pair to the man's lips, daring him.]
This isn't your first, is it?
SOMEONE ELSE TRANSFORMS - Freaking out over the whole monster thing
[A town ruled by sex and violence? Fine. That sounds like Paris on a Friday. But the monsters are something else. The Chevalier is tremoring when he rushes up to the nearest person he can find. His voice is feeble, a forced, panicked hush. His eyes are wide and glossy as he paws at the person in front of him, clutching his fingers into the fabric of their shirt.]
I saw...I........creatures. Horrific creatures. [Please believe him. He's not sure he believes it himself.]