one day I might not make it back home (may catch-all)

[descendency]

WHO: Mingyu and YOU
WHEN: All through the month babes.
WHERE: House of Dew, on the road, wherever.
WHAT: Slutty, slutty CR.
WARNINGS: He's a hooker it WILL get sexual. Otherwise no real warnings yet. Will update. DM/PM/plurk me for prompts/whatever.

dreaming of foxes

At least this client was a kind one. Those could be few and far between, in this line of work. The House of Dew kept its business, and by extension its patrons, orderly enough, but the professional respect afforded Mingyu by most clients was not the same thing as genuine kindness.

He was patient with Mingyu, understanding when Mingyu apologized for how frazzled, how distracted he was. Refused an offer to reschedule, to discount his rate. They sat and talked for a good portion of the session before getting down to, how to say, the main event.

Mingyu even felt a little relaxed by the end of it, though the fox tattoo he was carefully keeping out of sight of his guest felt like it was searing into his skin with how hyper-aware he remained of it. It was moving. It had started moving when the ship carrying Archeval's pet project drew near to the ports. It was all he could think about, though he'd rushed back to the House of Dew only partway into the rescue attempts in an effort to stay in the house's good graces as he did not know how much longer he would remain reliant on his employment here.

Now he was just waiting for his client to go, unable to bear to rush him even though they were past their time because he'd been kind.

"See you again soon?" the guest asked, and Mingyu smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.

"I should be so lucky," he replied smoothly, well-practiced, slow to slip his robe back on because a man would forgive a great many things about your mood if enough skin was on display.

Comments

for fox, post tamaiu visit;

[descendency]

After his meeting with Mistress Tamaiu, Mingyu returned—late—to their current encampment. He went directly back to his quarters, shut himself therein, and began to pace. He sealed the door, carved wards into the walls, searched every inch for corruption, for magic, for cracks. He turned over the sparse furniture as though they might hold answers from him as they sat. Finally, exhausted, he curled up against a wall, tearing hands through his hair as he shakily reached into his clothes for his spell paper. He worked one into a rough shape, stamped it with a thumbprint of blood.

A paper bird fluttered its uneven wings as the magic took hold, rustling with each movement, hopping up into its masters cupped hands.

"Find him," he whispered to his creation. "Bring him to me."

The paper bird gave another rustle, wind whistling through its hollow form in answer, then took flight.

[foxable]

Fox was working in - well, it couldn't be called his room, exactly, because that would imply that there was any furniture at all, and there wasn't. He had shoved all the furniture - including the bed - out into the hall for someone else to use and had cleared the entire space (small but workable) into his work area. It was covered in notes in every form and fashion, including a section entirely devoted to the pieces of mirror that he had stolen from the ship. It was this that he was working on now, humming to himself to initiate the magic that helped illuminate traces of lost spells, when a little paper bird flitted through the small gap under the floor and landed on his hand, just above the magpie tattoo on his wrist. He paused, blinking down at it, the vivid green light of magic fading in his eyes as the bird rustled and twirled, giving message as clear as any words. He was wanted. Right now.

The magpie tattoo itself seemed agitated, somehow, weaving back and forth on his wrist as if pacing, and he idly stroked it as if doing so would soothe it.

"Alright," He murmured to the paper bird as he put his things away and stood up. "Go on, lead the way.

As soon as he stepped out of his door, he triggered the warding sigil and the protective spirit that he had enchanted the room with - anyone who somehow got passed the magical mechanism would find themselves face to face with a large, ghostly fox. Not that he was really worried about people being able to decipher his notes, but - well - it was habit.

The bird fluttered before him until he reached the familiar door, and he paused at it before knocking.

"... It's me. You okay?"

[descendency]

Hearing Fox's voice, Mingyu made a midair gesture and the paper bird flew into the door, going to ash, its magic spent. The door swung open with it, allowing Fox in, before slamming shut. Mingyu did not rise, sat there curled against the wall, though he did look up just to put eyes on Fox. To see him, to see that he was safe, whole, well.

"Huli," he whispered. "I thought I was so clever. I thought I was careful enough. Cruel enough. Meticulous enough. I thought I was—"

He gave a hoarse, strangled laugh, his last words coming out soft and quiet and mocking.

"...I thought I was enough."

[foxable]

Fox had an unfortunately good imagination, so immediately a million terrible things came to mind that could have happened to Mingyu that would make him this upset. Most of them involved Mingyu working at the brothel, and he could feel his heart lodge into his throat as he stepped over and the crouched down next to the man, reaching out to brush fingers over his cheek.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Are you in trouble?”