-Koren-

{Last:Dandes}

(Kurr-wren)

[Age]

Twenty One

[Gender]

Male

[Sexuality]

Bisexual

[Position]

Son of the Baron

[Appearance]

What would probably be the most noticeable piece of Koren would be his hair. The man has long, thin, loose curls which are ultimately black in color and silky in texture. They are nearly coiled, but aren’t kept tightly to the scalp. His hair winds down lazily, the strands obviously kinked here and there to where it can whisk down in front of his eyes if not cut. He has a mullet. It could be classified as a vintage natural if it weren’t a bit overgrown. Koren has bangs which reach just below his eyes, something he has to brush behind an ear every minute or so. His mullet is relatively long in the back, as it reaches only a bit past the middle of his neck. And he has a long neck.

Koren has slightly thick sides, though they’re fresher sprouts, thus curled most protectively against his skin. All in all, one could say he needs to be mowed. Which he sort of does, but the look suits him and that's a good enough excuse. The man has beautiful smooth bronze skin which inhabits a few freckles along his nose, lips, and the corners of his mouth. He has an aquiline nose, It has a rather prominent bridge, slightly curved ever so subtle before slipping back down into a firm, slender line down to the nostrils.

He has a rounded face shape and a defined jawline. Not because of some marvelous routine but just because he’s pretty skinny. His ribs prove to be evident when he stretches his arms, his breasts not really the replica of something sturdy and muscular,-His chest runs flat and smooth within a lean body. Koren has inviting hazel eyes which are most often shadowed by what could be called pathetic eyelashes. And in those eyes are where most of his silent engagements spark. He communicates with them almost expertly; whether that be seductively scanning someone from head to toe or even signaling violent curses. He’s going to do something with them. Koren’s lips are pretty full. Though the bottom is a bit slight compared to the top. They’re a brown that matches his complexion, partly rosy. The man has an upturned eye shape, and straight dark brows which makes him appear softer.

When Koren smiles, he only has one dimple, and he tends to smile often so it's mostly shown to nearly every stranger. It's his special cry “Hey look at me! I’m special” It’d basically be an understatement to say that the man doesn’t care for that damn dimple. He’ll flaunt it whenever the opportunity arises. One can decide whether it's loveable, or irritating as hell.-Most will choose the latter. He has an adams apple, and a narrow, smooth ear shape. He has an assortment of scars as well. One closely along his jaw nearing his right ear and the others on the backs of his hands.-Both small and large.

Again, Koren is skinny. But still, he’s a pretty large guy; standing at 6’3 he’s not the tallest but he’s not very short either. He has athletic muscle derived from years of child sports, so that in addition to his naturally slender limbs, he’s not bad looking. He has a flat stomach with prominent lines, the very echo of actual abs. And a back subtly shaped that of an upside-down triangle. He has a smaller waist as a result, but maintains good proportions. Koren has a few different expressions unique to his character, looks with multiple different tones and meanings.

His most used would be “dumbfounded” and second “Yum” While the first one can be easily identified, some have a few confusions when it comes to “Yum” The face usually occurs whenever he spies someone just deliciously attractive. It is then that he shapes his features into a narrowed yearn like glare and violates that person with a simple gaze. Koren has a liquid calm gait, nearly every time he goes for a walk, he exudes just a certain confidence which can be taken two different ways. “Don’t even think about it” and “You know you want to” It's up to the opposing person to decide whether they’ll have the courage or not.

[Scars]

Already stated but Koren does have quite the many scars. The sight of them often sparks inquiry.- How did he get them? Well that's for him to know and others to never speak of it again.

He got them after shoving himself through a glass window in a desperate attempt to get away with some stolen bread

[Voice]

He has a middle toned voice, like a baritone but slightly above that. When he talks hushed and softer it can become husky. And when he speaks when excited, his tone lifts slightly, a soothing caress to the ears.

[Some Attributes]

|-Irritable |-Pervy |-Persistent |-Bubbly |-Unforgiving |-Meticulous |-Dummy/Dumb ass |-Arrogant |-Cheeky |-Blunt |-Indifferent |-Puppy like |-Passionate |-Affectionate |-Pesky |-Indignant |-Flirtatious |-Sweet |-Pessimist |-Laughs at others misfortune |-Troublesome |-Ambitious |-Incurious

[Personality]

Yes, Koren is a bit pervy. He has a questionable mind. Someone can make a simple joke and he’d make it suggestive, flashing ‘innocent’ grins to those surrounding. The man often has his mind in the gutter. Whenever spacing off, it's most probable that he’s blushing over some oddly shaped cherry he saw earlier than thinking about sensible things. And while he can make nearly every conversation into some type of spicy small talk, if someone expresses discomfort, he’ll try his best to not let the risque jokes slip. He’ll try.

He can be short tempered at times, add that with the fact that he’s a sort of idiot, and it all just locks into place. The man is rather gullible in some aspects of life. When it comes to romantic ordeals, he’s as present as ever. He’ll know if he’s being toyed with, more so because he’s a bit of a player himself. But if he comes across some sketchy shop or person in general, he’ll follow along willingly with a skip in his step. And when he finds out he’s been utterly scammed, he’ll maintain an anger fueled sadness for the rest of the day. When Koren finds himself in a foul mood, it's actually incredibly hard to lift him out of it. He’s a dweller. He’ll dwell on things for as long as he can.

Koren can be pretty wayward as well as excitable. It proves to be rather difficult to predict his next move. Maybe not in some chess game because he’s a dumb ass but him just being himself in general. Never cross out the possibility of him doing something out of character or unexpected. It especially happens when he becomes angered. He may comply one moment and then the next he’d be fleeing precariously with a sly grin on his face. He’s a vivacious character. The type to walk up to a random stranger and inflict his perkiness onto them. His mood tends to be infectious at times. If he’s feeling sour, those around him look a bit bitter too. And if he’s feeling bubbly, most likely the surrounding people will as well.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he almost always drags others into his mess. If he feels like going out for a drink while riding an elephant, he’s going for a drink and he's going to ride an elephant. And rarely does he not hook another along with him. He’s pretty persistent, able to plead like, perfectly. In fact, he can seem quite pesky at times, but his sweet variants make up for it right? Hopefully. Koren isn’t all that rude. He’s quick to anger and radiates arrogance at times but he still possesses a rather gratifying presence. He’s...nice but not in the typical way.

What could describe it is that he’s annoying first, and nice second. When he approaches someone he’s rarely stand-offish but despite his bubbly words, in his mind, there is no switch where he focuses on trying to be kind and understanding, it just comes naturally and much later on. Until then, he’s just that first portion of himself. Inviting but equally blunt and irritating. He doesn’t go out of his way to make rude remarks, same as being nice or overly sarcastic. Everything kind of just flows naturally for him. In most cases, he’ll say whatever’s on his mind, no matter how insignificant.

The man is a pessimistic bookworm who's snappy at times when bitter. Though he seems carefree, and the type to trash literature, Koren actually adores it. He can become a huge nerd if he wants to be, fangirling over certain writers in his own inconspicuous way. It's a topic that interests him, and something most likely to bring a genuine grin to his lips. Koren is not innocent. Not in any way. But he tends to act like it. He resembles a cat when it comes to looks but if it had to be determined, he’s most like a puppy. He’s affectionate and immature. Whether he likes it or not, his immaturity will always be a part of him.

He gets easily jealous, easily impatient, easily aroused, and easily sad. When he doesn’t get his way, rather than stoically accepting it and moving on, he either sulks, pouts, or just straight up squeezes them by the throat. It mostly depends on how he’s feeling. If he asks for some type of affection and gets refused, he’ll most likely pout. Now, the scenario where he becomes a bit volatile would probably be him getting ruthlessly scammed or disrespected. He can control his emotions, but he doesn’t control them well. On a lighter note, Koren is..a lot of things, and some two rather unsurprising ones would be that he’s a cheeky flirt.

The man has had his fair share of intimacy. The way he flirts isn’t at all bold or straight forward. He tends to make subtle suggestive comments or soft teases that kind of lulls them into it. Overall, he speaks louder with actions rather than words. So he often shows people how he feels in the moment. Whether it be a quick embrace, a soft punch to the shoulder, or an unexpected caress, that's how Koren speaks. He can become a confusing type of shy at times. Some moments he may be too tentative to make the first move, but he’s also not going to let the opposing just walk out the room bite-free. Although Koren is capable of being an efficient lover, if someone wants to end something, then it's done.

He’s not a chaser. Even if he really likes the person in return, there's a rare chance he’ll ever really stay dedicated and follow after them like a lovesick dog. He has too much pride for that.

[Attire]

He actually prefers tighter fitting clothing. Koren wears an assortment of flashy garments, He likes to wear black and brown tunics the most. And they’ll be decorated in beautiful lacing and embroidery fit of a noble. He tends to wear leggings, long, thick cloaks, or just baggier trousers in general.

[Likes]

Curvy women [:

Books

Prodding

Leadership

Getting his way

[Dislikes]

Scoundrels

Predicaments

Sweaty hands

Copycats

[Kin]

He has a mother, Cheryl, and a father, Esten. He is the only child and has the title of the Baron's Son. While his family is at the lower level of the noble hierarchy, they are still nicely respected and are often invited to fancy luncheons with the other nobility.

[Other]

He was undoubtedly cursed by some creature. How was it obtained? He can’t really remember, but all he knows is that the uncomfortable energy weakens him by the day. So he keeps it a secret in caution of others finding out. How would others take such..unfortunate news? The only son of the Dandes family? Cursed right before the famous gala? Koren will do anything to rid himself of it.

(Ya don't gotta match the length. ;-;)

Koren

There sat a rather simple black carriage, its large, glittering wheels lined in silver which luminous looking blossoms brushed tentatively against. The groomed, cobblestone pathway stretched in a large strip across the ground; the grass quivering in its residential place whilst the breeze softly stroked its stems. Koren ambled down the rock, clutching his sides with visible discomfort. He left the Tailor shop in his wake, the moon's light dancing feebly across its patterned boards.

He had begged the damn best he could. But the nervous entreatment was rejected without a second thought. And he was put out, the witch’s lengthy garments flashing briefly in his sight before the door was shut in a swift click, and in an instant, the welcoming entrance had become a taut barrier. He had waited beneath the windows for a bit, hoping to catch the tailor off guard if they had perhaps decided to patrol the premises.

But it was soon that he had left, his ankles encased in thick mud and dirt from his brief crouch in the shrubbery. It seemed he had lost his mind. And as he steadily climbed into the spacious wagon, velvet lined seats meeting a dusty cloak, Koren snapped his vision back towards the shop, albeit listlessly. He should have never believed Marcus. A witch? How desperate had he become?

The carriage began a slow roll down an incline, and even safely tucked inside, he could hear the rhythmic claps of the horses hooves. His chauffeur had spoken, but the man was ignored. Koren had his attention elsewhere. He rolled up his tight tunic, a creamy brown in color that accentuated his sparking hazel eyes. But now they had dulled, staring incuriously at the dark, green lined marks which had begun to fan meticulously across his waist.

“What an ugly curse.” He blew, digging a hand into his curly mullet. And soon it was both hands, his tunic sliding back down in a graceful cascade to his lap. A bump in the road had his body lurching forward and his head had knocked against the ceiling. And with a tender scalp, the man shot an awful glare behind him, perhaps hoping to catch the witches eye through the window. Of course, to no avail.

They peeled from the large dripping trees, starting about an open path back down towards the manor. He hadn’t planned to arrive back so soon but plans change. It’d just be a bit awkward to call the servants back on duty after proclaiming they all take an early rest. But he wasn’t to blame. It was that rude man. That rude...cute man. Already his thoughts fluctuated between irritation and flirty desire, smirking as he began to recall all the moments they had touched in the brief encounter.

“What a shame to see such a pretty face act so rude...to a noble no less!” He puffed his cheeks, resting his chin on his ending palm whilst gazing intently out the window. The manor house came into view. Its extravagant columns dressed in large green ribbon and the exterior decorated in a pretty stone gray and pale yellow. Of course, it was all encompassed in the shrouding night. And for now, it was not a welcoming domain but the castle that he had secretly snuck out of to meet a deceiving witch

“Stop it here.” He spoke carefully, his frame no longer in his seat but pushed through the outer window. The wind had flown softly against his face, rustling his dark locks until the carriage eventually came to a stop in a patch of tall vegetation just to the side of the manor.

Koren would squeeze himself from the frame, emitting nothing but a grunt as he popped back onto the interior. His chauffeur headed around to his side, opening the large door with a certain nimbleness he couldn’t hope to obtain. The man stepped out, flapping his cloak about his frame and smoothing down his gloomy looking trousers as if it’d fully rid himself of the mud and dust. Koren started forward, beckoning the chauffeur to follow with nothing but a wave.

“Crouch here. Put your hands out like this.” He began to imitate his instructions, watching as the man followed orders with diligent, tired eyes. Koren stepped on his outstretched hands, hooking his fingers on the large green ribbon which flapped serenely against the stony walls. He used it to stable himself whilst he neared his open window. Quickly, he was propelled forward with a heavy “hup!” and safely reached his inviting quarters. He slipped through the window like a rat, stifling his nervous giggles as he thumped down onto his floor.

It hadn’t been long before he hopped up like a spring, a cheeky grin curling his lips with ease. “Thanks old man.” He heavily whispered, which actually sounded more like a quiet scream. The chauffeur briefly stood clapping away the dust from his hands, and as he heard Koren’s shout, he dipped his chin and quickly left before he could be asked any more. Which honestly was the right thing to do. For as soon as Koren had gathered himself, he went to fetch the servants for a warm meal.

The following day, he awoke from his feathery sheets, of course dizzy with fatigue, it took him longer than usual to prepare himself for the mornings breakfast the Dandes had scheduled with the Farnleys. He was to acquaint himself with the viscountess’ daughter and be her escort to the royal gala. Not that he minded much. The girl was a beauty. Quickly. Koren covered himself in a dark green button vest with somewhat flowy white sleeves. He had on thick black trousers and an arrangement of silver bands on his scar crossed fingers. He didn’t care to style his head much, for his mullet, although a bit fluffy, still looked sharp enough for the viscounts.

His skin was slick with fragrant spray, that and the fact that he took a...cold shower before his night's rest, the man was far from smelly. And as he made his way outdoors, cuffing his sleeves with a lowered gaze, a sudden, fervid pain would shoot across his chest, striking a fire within his flesh. Korens legs buckled beneath him with a small groan of pain, and he had to catch himself on a nearby railing. The curse never failed to remind him of his numbered days. “Damn..” he muttered, slowly rebuilding himself like a fallen tower of blocks.

It was then that he knew he wouldn’t really be able to enjoy the breakfast. For there was something else occupying his mind. Something that had a cold, hard lump sinking into the depths of his empty stomach..

The witch

The meeting had flown by fast. He ate but his eyes were glued on Denara, Viscountess Wenony’s daughter. They had engaged more properly after the breakfast, fooling around further along the lawn. And he liked how she always laughed at his indecent jokes. It made him feel happy. But as soon as her mother neared, she became all proper again and wouldn’t even spare him another glance. She almost lost her escort.

But now, Koren was elsewhere. Although he had about a pile of paperwork to look over with his father, here he was, back at the tailors. Although he hardly believed the man inside was a witch, he had to find some type of help. And honestly, he felt like the tailor knew more than he was letting on. So he sauntered forth, leaving his single steed, Quail, tied to a branch amongst bushes. There appeared to be another customer. For he saw the shabby wagon and equally shabby donkey parked just before the steps. But he couldn’t care.

Koren pushed through the unlocked door, matching eyes with a poor boy who had something shiny clutched tight to his chest. Within moments the child began to cower before his tall shadow, looking as guilty as a troubled dog. “You were trying to steal something weren’t you?” No response. But he smiled anyway, unwrapping a pair of pants from a hanger. “Take this too. I’m sure he won't mind.” His eyes narrowed into a petty gaze as he shoved the clothing inside of the boy's arms, afterwards quickly ushering him out from the shop.

“Witchh, I’m baackk.” He later sang, stretching his arms above his head with a slow, casual yawn.- like he didn’t just help a commoner steal precious merchandise. He had about three unbuttoned buttons, his exposed neck and chest, shaking with soft laughter. “Will you be able to resist me now?” He whispered much more gently, his idiotic plan slowly falling into action.

Koren

His lips pressed together, ebullient demeanor slipping away like water through gapped fingers. Judging by the silent atmosphere, perhaps the tailor was..out. Now he certainly wanted to talk, his life was at stake after all. But how could he pass up the chance to maybe..dig around a bit? Quietly, Koren would move in a smooth slink, nearing a desk which seemed mahogany in color. With little hesitation he slid open a couple of drawers, bangs falling over his eyes while his hands sifted through a number of belongings.

He would only pause once a faint warble reverberated off the walls, next came the tapping of shoes and he’d nearly jump from his hide. Immediately, he’d close the drawers shut, smacking a look of innocent gaiety across his tawny facials. Leaning a scarred hand on the edge of the wood, Koren would watch as the tall tailor glided across the floor, a defensive look plastered atop his cheeks. He seemed frustrated, and Koren caught the tailors hands slipping from the silk ribbon he had just tied. How cute.

“ Oh right. You’re rather strong for your petite looks” He’d advance forward with raised brows and soft eyes, a look of confidence and feigned novice. “Who else could defy their physical attributes but a witch.” In the midst of being accused of common illness, the man's gaze would snap towards a drifting figure just behind the tailor, small in stature. It perked its ears, warily watching the encounter with animal eyes. Aha!

He became present once a sharp finger had extended past his head, for a moment, he had thought the witch had tired of him and would blast his face with some type of..witchy magic. Maybe turn him into a frog and lock him up in a jar, all the while cackling at the fact that he had captured the Baron's son. But it was rather the opposite. He had simply been asked to leave..and to pay for the pants. Scoff!

With furrowed brows, Koren would inch away, though still oozing with credence, he ignored the tailor's order. “You know it’d be much easier to believe you mister if you didn’t have that...beast lurking in your very shadow.” He gestured towards the large feline who’s fur became beautifully soaked in the glittering light. “Does it help you concoct those evil spells of yours?” masking his face with a cloud of suspicion, Koren would add a clap of a hand over his mouth for dramatic purposes.

“You do know I’m a noble right? I can have you put on trial for this!” The man sighed, eyes beginning a pensive scan over the tailor's delicate limbs and long dark locks. I wonder what he’d look like in a green dress.. He had created the perfect guise. A look of smug concern had overtaken his features, dimpled cheek still covered by long fingers. And yet inwardly he was a hot mess.

You know what

After a prolonged inhale, Koren would drop his arms, a small simper matching sparkling eyes. There, in the gleaming light of day but still shadowed by the intramural furniture, he proposed...literally. “Marry me.” He breathed, glancing down at the witch’s vibrant blue eyes. And after a few heartbeats of silence, he’d continue. “..Or help me with my curse.” It was then that Koren began a series of small chuckles, a look of sheer hubris wrapping its nasty tendrils across his cat-like looks.

He was a damn noble. He should get to exercise his title whenever the hell he wanted. And now, he had little to no problem adding a bit of..a threat when it came to his life. And if the witch still refused. At least he’d die with a hot wife. (-purposeful). The man began a smooth stroll down towards the front door, the slight crumple in his pocket a small receipt that he had taken whilst scavenging for evidence.

He hadn’t bothered looking at it just yet. He felt it would only be right to have a read through once he’s safely tucked in his bedsheets with a bottle of wine. But for now, Koren had other plans. “I’ll have the ceremony date set up. And don’t worry. It’ll be far back..giving you plenty of time.” He finally spoke, gaze sharp and intense. With the magic coursing through his veins, he began to stiffen, though disguised his pain into anything but visibility. He soaked in the sun, exhaling softly whilst leaning against the far wall, right beside the door.

It seemed as if he might leave, but his words were not finished. Neither his indelicate mind. Within moments, he caught a smirk, fixing his hazel stare back onto those blue. “The longer it takes for you to heal me. The more dates we go on. And the closer we get to the wedding.” He began to trail..

“Orr, would you rather marry me now and ask questions later? Your choice Mister Tailor.”

Your choice

(Kinda spaced out with this one)

Koren

There was little to no surprise of the reaction he had been presented with. Without a doubt the concealed witch would attempt to arraign his..deal. He didn’t like the word “ultimatum” Nobody was being forced here..-If anything, the tailor was the one acting cruel. To A, refuse to succor a son of nobility, and B, act so upset by the prospect of marriage. And it was soon that his vanity took precedence over any sensibility he had left. “Joking?” He muttered, bottom lip jutting out in an offended pout. A mildly marred hand would curl itself about his chin while his serrated gaze began an examination upon the hint of rouge coloring otherwise ghostly skin. Though most would be induced with encouragement at such a sight, Koren envisioned it as a sign of embarrassment.

Not the good type where one would rejoice in inflicting such a state on their interest. But the horrendous type where a witch seems more appalled than flattered.- Like the roles were reversed. The man's frame would harden, and yet his upper half would fold over itself in a manner of defeat. Have I grown ugly overnight? He pulled a moue. He had declared the proposal as a threat, yes, that part was right. But he had chalked up a possible refusal as the tailor wanting to maintain some type of...chastity or something. He had never once thought that he’d be much too hideous for the oh so beautiful witch.

Before he had managed to spout his incredulous thoughts into equally indignant speech, the tailor curtly denied his request, blue gaze iced with mild animosity. Koren would perk,-almost like a dog. He flew across the floor, partially closing the gap between them both. “You mortals?” He almost cooed, moist lips snaking into a victorious grin. He had gathered a stock pile of evidence. The previous, snarky responses the witch had given him had been recorded!..-In his mind. Still, who would believe a measly tailor over a nobleman and his refreshing candor.

And yet, Koren had little intention of turning him in. What good would a pretty face do rotting in prison when it could be accomplishing much more? No, this was just for his own peace of mind. The man had always had his doubts about the whole “witchcraft” accusations he had persistently created. But there was also a part of him which refused to take an answer for anything but a confession. It was like beliefs became intertwined with desperation. Koren only watched as the tailor's face wrinkled in a wince, though he could decipher the underlying hope that had shaped his brows. It was then that the witch’s expression melted into that of visible distress, as if he had realized his grave mistake.

Korens arms were pressed loosely against his sides, his back subtly curved in a slack stance. “Why don’t yo-” He stopped short, gaze crackling with minor irritation. Oh he hated being cut off. If it had ever been attempted, he’d just talk over the offender with pursed lips. But this once, he made an exception. The tailor had spoken of some type of reward, and truly, Koren was struck with confusion. “Reward? Your reward would be the memories of the time we shared together. Would that not be enough?”

He tapped his lip, as if in thought but really he had begun to dote on the way the witch’s captivating garb wrapped tightly around his hips. “Ah” The man spoke softly, snapping his vision back onto the opposing with a wild strike of flame in his eyes. “You didn’t forget the dates did you? That’ll also be a form of compensation if you’re too greedy to enjoy yourself with flavorful remembrance” He couldn’t help himself with the last part, carefully sitting both hands on his hips with a taunting smile. Within a few moments, Koren would amble his gaze away, out the door and right onto the blue bathed sky. Though it had become tickled with the dimmer glow of afternoon.

“We should probably go and choose our rendezvous site, yea? I'm sure you wouldn’t want to stir your potions in such a tiny space like this shop. Perhaps my dining hall would suffice. I can have the area closed off for the..night maybe? You can even stay over if you’d like.” Koren rambled on, parting his bangs from his face like it was second nature. He had a doe eyed, hopeful expression plastered on his face. Even pressing his hands together in a pleading notion. “I just really want you to rid me of this curse..” He whined a clarification, as if the addition would avert the witch’s mind from the suspicion of slight perversion. Nearly simultaneous to his ending, the shop door had swung open, and in walked none other than Randamunce, the son of a famous clergy who even the highest of nobility would call upon in times of propriety.

Koren would cock his head back, glancing at the man with an unimpressed, dully annoyed gaze. His eyes had slid back into their fierce settlement, hands tucking themselves in pockets he’d often delve in. “Koren. What a surprise. Who knew you’d turn up here? -Of all places.” Randamunce would trail off, fixating his dark stare on the tailor Koren had otherwise blocked from his view if it weren’t for the witches head peeking over his shoulder. “Ah, Vivian. I thought you said you would be out sick today.” His tone had a tinge of irritation attached but he paid no mind. The man was simply focused on the name Randamunce had used to address the “person” behind him.

“Your name is Vivian!?” He gasped, hopping back with rounding lips. “You’re telling me his name isn’t Belle or something cute like that. But Vivian” Koren wrinkled his nose, his dark freckles creasing into thin lines. “Reminds me of this lady I used to know..” Horrible kisser. He’d then turn back to the tailor. “You must be a terrible kiss.” Koren would taunt, his voice curled in a partially serious mock. -All the while his arms were crossed protectively across his chest, the same chest that had been exposed by the purposefully unbuttoned buttons.

“Oh don’t go spouting such nonsense. I bet Viv’s a wonderful kisser.” Randamunce butted in, placing a seductive smirk on his lips as he began a slow walk down towards the both of them.

“Shall we put it to the test?”

In spite of his slip-up being echoed back to him, the witch managed to keep his face straight as stone, quickly snuffing out even the faintest flicker of anxiety. He’d never met a more stubborn brat in his life, but surely this was nothing he couldn’t handle. He’d just scoff and sneer and roll his eyes until his interrogator lost hope. . . or until he really did decide to turn him into dust. Not that that was actually a thing. But, well, the nobleman didn’t need to know that.
He rested his elbows upon the very edge of his desk, cradling his jaw with both of his hands whilst his accomplice went on about how his reward essentially boiled down to being allowed to occupy the other’s time. He raised his brows at that, just barely able to hold back the snide remark sitting pretty upon the tip of his tongue. You know, because clearly the noble was such a gem, and anyone should be honored to be in his presence- how dare he even suggest otherwise, right?

And although Vivian did figure he should mind his words, he couldn’t help his callous chuckle, his voice having dropped into an agitated drawl. “Your proposal is to treat me like every noblewoman you’ve ever come across? Goodness, you sure do know how to make a lady feel special.”
Oh, he had no doubt that the nobleman had more than his fair share of flings, surely some of which were still ongoing. Vivian might’ve been the romantic type, but he wasn’t desperate- certainly not desperate enough to risk his life for a man who likely couldn’t care less about him. And for a measly few dates, of all things! If he took anything less than ownership of the man’s very soul, his mother would conk him over the head with a marble statuette. It was like asking a fugitive to commit murder for you in exchange for letting them sleep on your couch or something.

Now, he did have to give the man some credit; had his approach been more subtle—though his request still would have been rejected, of course—he likely would have had Vivian weak in the knees. It wasn’t too unlike the witch to swoon over a pretty face and a bold personality. But as this noble stood before him, pouting and whining like a puppy denied a bone, Vivian found it pretty easy to look over his beauty and see nothing but an alarmingly swollen ego.
“Oh, I know what you want. And the fact that marriage came quicker to your tongue than the word please assures that even if I could, I'm not going to give it to you,” the witch mused whilst curling a loose strand of hair about his finger. Alas, just as he parted his lips to taunt the noble further, his eyes were drawn to the door when it was abruptly thrust aside. Ah, right, he had a job to do. Perhaps now he’d have a proper excuse to boot the noble from his shop, since all of the mockery and ridicule in the world seemed to go into one ear and straight out the other.

He stood upright upon hearing the newcomer speak his name, moving to quickly brush some invisible debris from his dress. Though his first guest did annoy the ever-loving Christ out of him, he did still have some respect for the upper class and would look nothing but his best. “Yes, well, my plans fell through. You sound disappointed,” jested the tailor to the newcomer upon rendering himself presentable, “What, are you not happy to see me?”
The nobleman’s sudden exclamation earned him a bewildered glower. It hadn’t even occurred to Vivian that the brute didn’t even know his name, though he was more so distracted by unrelated and, quite frankly, somewhat offensive accusation regarding his kissing ability. In fact, he found himself ever so slightly puffing his chest in response, nevermind that it had nothing to do with any part of the conversation. But hey, at least he knew the noble’s name now as well. Koren. . . how interesting.

Alas, before he could think to defend himself, it was already being done for him. His entire demeanor seemed to quickly relax then- he hadn’t even noticed how stressed he’d become trying to ward off the Baron’s son, but as the tension left his shoulders, he even managed to crack a smile. Or, well, something like that.

“Test? Oh, don’t you tempt me,” Vivian giggled as he allowed his eyes to wander wherever they may on the other man’s person, “I. . . don’t suppose you’re here for a fitting, are you?”
Hey, there was no shame in a little lightheared flirting- even if it was in front of your supposed betrothed. Really, he couldn’t imagine what Koren's line of thinking sounded like in that pretty little head of his—here, let us accuse this stranger of witchcraft, grovel pathetically, threaten to put him on trial, propose marriage, and then vaguely insult him, surely that will persuade him to help! Lord, the violent whirlwind of emotions that Vivian had experienced in the last half-hour alone had him dizzy. Needless to say, the brief distraction was much appreciated.

Koren

It all happened so fast. There, right in front of his very eyes, the noble had witnessed a complete display of deplorable crime. Randamunce held his hand on his hip, a fully dressed arm snaking its way around his plights shoulder. His hair fell in ruffled, brown waves, black eyes staring delightfully at the receptive tailor. Koren would release a bothered growl that rang irritably within his throat,- eyes slitting into a defensive glare based on both parties. To flirt and kindly speak to such a simple person, and yet pay no heed to the handsome noble’s entreatment which meant life or death, the man was less than comfortable. He merely watched, for a moment, inspecting every aspect of Randamunce with a wintry stare.

And then he’d eye Vivian himself, fingers slowly curling into his palm, though his fists would be sheathed by deep pockets. Normally, the man would move on, off to find another adorable conquest to string along. But this time was different. The witch wasn’t only a petite hottie that Koren was eager to consume, but also the key to his own curse. Despite the tailor's stubborn elusion, he could just feel that there was some type of otherworldly knowledge that was attempting to be obscured. So when Perren Clergy’s son had spoken of a project he wanted to work on with Vivian, Koren pushed forward.

“Do you know you're making advancements on a taken man?” Concurrent to his firm speech, he wrapped a large hand across the opposing wrist, lifting it from Vivians thin shoulders but keeping it still, though the pressure on Randamunces flesh had increased. He continued to squeeze until the limb had eventually been ripped from his grasp, angry and confused eyes staring up into his own. The Clergy’s son was only five eleven, and noticing the fact, Koren lit a match that disrupted his tightened lips into a haughty smirk. “Spread the word.”

The noble man stepped forth with his dimple present just for the occasion. “Common tailor Vivian is currently engaged to the Son of the Baron, Koren.”

Although he knew this statement would certainly cause some difficulties, it had to be done. The stakes had to be raised. He refused to let the abhorrent creature eat away at him until he was left with nothing but mere crumbs of his former self. Absolutely not. And he’d happily watch as Randamunce made his exit, albeit with a few muttered curses under his breath. The cheerful glow of day had considerably darkened, faster this time because another season, one of his favorites, was hot on their tails. Randamunce pressed through the leaf ridden path, smacking spindly branches which were child of the mother trees -canopied beautifully along the groomed lawn, out of his vision.

The noble would release an airy laugh, clenched fists slacking into an adequate grip, though one hand held something. The other did not. -Turning back to Vivian, Koren peeled the frail, yellow tinted receipt from his pocket, smoothing out the numerous wrinkles with a thumb. His expression was unreadable, well, besides the small crack of a frown that proved itself evident on his sleek facials. “Wipes, Quill, and...An apple.” He read aloud. But rather than throwing himself at the last mention, thinking it as some sort of lead, he gently tapped the paper against the tailors head, a monotonous look shadowing his face. “Doesn’t count as stealing If I haven't left the shop yet.”

With that last, watered down tease, Koren would turn away, walking from the abundant store.. -But not before a swift set of the receipt on a desk he had passed. “...I’ll see you later tonight” The man spoke finally, pushing through the wooden door with an arm stretched tall above his head, releasing the cooped up tension from his limbs. Immediately, he scampered over to his horse, stitching a look of concern and nurturing eyes upon his face. “Awe, has my baby been waiting for daddy?--Here, I’ll take you to your stall and serve you the nicest hay you will ever eat.” Quail responded with an approving snort. Without a doubt he had heard those words so many times it had become a phrase.

Koren set himself atop his steed, briefly brushing out his silver mane with long, delicate fingers. His ankles pressed tight against the black coat Quail possessed. And before his official leave, he’d cup a hand along his mouth, eyes closing with feeble lids. “Wear something nice for me!” He shouted, hoping his voice would trespass through the cracked windows. His stallion rocked forth; bright tail whipping casually amongst the tall shrubs. And a bottom lip came between sharp teeth, chewing gently on the soft flesh which had met other skin various times; something he almost felt smug about. But now, he was in no such mood. In fact, after he snapped his steed on a narrow road, - a road which would lead to the Town of Adele, Koren’s shoulders slumped, curly head slipped back until his eyes gazed at nothing but the ripe leaves of the deciduous trees above. “..What a rude witch.” he paused, inflating his cheeks with air a multitude of times. “Maybe tonight he’ll grow a brain and stop crushing my heart”

But he began a quick backtrack, wincing at his audible insult. Even though he was no longer near Vivian, the belief of the stereotypical practice of witchcraft had invaded his thoughts, snapping his hazel stare to the cloud swathed sky in search of a hovering broom and its captor. And when he found none, the noble would release a whiny exhale, shutting his eyes in embarrassment.

The shopping passed by fast. For Koren had entered the thriving town, greeted with the faint smell of cinnamon and apples which had hooked his nose into the Penny Bookstore; named after a dead, but famous noblewoman whom he had forgotten the achievements of. The bookstore was namely exclusive to those of higher rankings, but of course that would be the entirety of the town as well. It's just that no one has said it aloud. All the common peasants understand. They know that even though it cannot be deemed illegal to set foot here, they will receive the dirtiest looks of all the land. Even still, they’d crawl their way back in,- the brave ones, the ones that think stepping from the crowd will do them any good. Anyways, it had not been long until he had been snatched by the arms. Amidst an observant inspection of a fancy silver gauntlet. At first he had resisted, eyes encroaching in a blaze of fury, but a moment later the man had calmed.-Beginning a walk in which was coolly presented, unbothered. He was merely being escorted; and he needed everyone to know that. -The well groomed women of various high titles, started a slow crowd about the door, attempting to stifle their piqued chatter whilst smoothing down their soft locks in a fidget.

He hadn’t uttered a word, for the cloth badges sewn onto the knight's sleeves told him everything he needed to know. Randamunce must’ve done his job. The annoying twat.