forum Wait, You're Gay? (CLOSED)

Started June 01, 2020 by @Desvelarse pets

tune

Name: Matteo Sedlow
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Questioning
Race: Caucasian, Italian/English descent
Species: Human with Siren blood
Appearance: (Reference)Matteo's roughly 5'5", and has a lean "swimmer's build". He's got pale skin and green-blue eyes. He takes a lot of pride in his skin, which he works hard on to keep clear and nice looking. Matteo's hair is shoulder-length, brown, and slightly wavy. His fashion sense is pretty (androgynous) and (relaxed). Matteo doesn't have any piercings other than his ears. He only have one tattoo, and it's a simple eye on his ribcage.
Personality: Matteo has a deep sense of community. Instead of directly showing how much he loves his friends and family, he shows he cares through different ways: cooking, running errands, and going off on days-long fishing trips to stock up on food. He's disgusted by those with infernal bloodlines, ironically enough, given that he isn't even fully human himself. He's lenient to the point where he hasn't quite learned how to put his foot down. Matteo is incredibly loyal, quick-witted, and quick to trust. If nobody stopped him, he could talk forever.
Likes: Swimming, cooking, live music, swapping stories with people
Dislikes: Holding babies, thunderstorms, horses (they are huge, and heavy, and fast, and all around terrifying), being bossed around, minimalism (in all forms)
Hobbies: Painting (he's really not good, but he has a lot of fun doing it), playing guitar & singing, and catching frogs (and bugs, and lizards)
Bio: Matteo was born in Vicenza, Italy. He moved to the city with his family when he was 7, and thus did the most of his schooling there. Overall, he's lived a fairly normal life, save for the fact that he's not fully human. When he graduated, Matteo applied to art school, had no backup schools, got rejected, and now works as a fairly successful musician (thanks to his Siren blood)
Other:

• He's got a pet dog named Little Man he took in from the streets. It's a xoloitzcuintli breed.
• He knows basic Italian, enough to scrape by in conversation with family, but that's about it.

(sorry he took so long, I'll get more of his backstory as we go!)

It was a cool day for the beginning of June. That's what Thatcher enjoyed about being placed in the certain sector. It was better that a place where it never fell below 80 degrees. That was torture, in his opinion. On his off time, he was strolling through the new area, exploring the town and all the people in it. Which ones were good and bad? Which would he never see again and which would he come face to face with in their final moments of life?

A tug on his sleeve pulled him from his trance. "Thatcher! Come on, I'm starving, can we please go get something to eat now?" asked the short, dark skinned girl that skipped along side of him. Nike was always hungry and ready for her next meal. While he didn't experience hunger or thirst, she definitely ate more than enough for the both of them. She was a growing girl, after all.

Matteo sat on a stool on a small cafe's porch, his rose-tinted sunglasses perched atop his nose as he sang along to the guitarist beside him. A friend of his. Today's song lineup was mostly acoustic covers, with the occasional original song thrown in. Lots of Bowie, stuff like that. The guitar case below him was full of tips, both bills and change. That was one of the perks of having Siren blood. People couldn't wait to just throw money at you just for your voice.

That little cafe-restaurant was a regular spot for him. The owners liked him well enough, and the people there were always eager to tip. Little Man, Matteo's (hairless) dog, laid beside the stool he was perched upon, taking a quick nap in the cool June weather. It was a nice day.

Thatcher, nodding to Nike's pressing words, caught a small café out the corner of his eye. He held the girl's hand and led her over to it, pushing the door open to go inside. The air conditioning hit him and he exhaled deeply, pleased to be in the cold. After buying Nike a few different sweets and a coffee for himself, Nike tugged him outside, talking about wanting to listen to the music. Leave it to her and her stellar ears to pick out the noisiest area of the café for them to go to.

They stepped outside, taking a table close enough to where Thatcher could people watch and Nike could also have a good view of the small live show. Thatcher found himself continuously looking towards the singing male. Squinting his pale blue eyes, he eyed the set. Something inside him was being tugged to keep listening and watching. It was a strange sort of trance, one that almost startled him in a way.

The song at the moment was a softer cover of Bowie's Diamond Dogs. He didn't verbally acknowledge any of his tippers, only a friendly nod. He watched the people come out to the porch, eyeing them all like they were all prospective business opportunities. Of course- business opportunities meaning cash cows in this situation. Matteo's eyes drifted to the new pair- a girl, maybe 10, 12 (he wasn't great at telling ages), and another man. Similar to his age, he guessed, and dressed nice. Matteo could practically smell the money on him.

Matteo crossed his knees, slowly drawing the song to a close. He finally spoke up- honey dripped from his voice as his words came out. "I'd just like to take a second to thank everyone here who's dropped some money in here. Helps feed some starving artists" There was a slight laugh to that last bit. He uncrossed his legs so he could nudge the guitar case with his foot.

Thatcher heard a snicker from Nike, and he looked down to see her devilish, toothy smile. "I see you google-eyeing that guy!" she teased quite loudly. He shot her a look, quickly shaking his head as heat raised up the back of his neck intensely. The male was attractive, but it was that voice that pulled him in. "Am not. He's just a good singer. Good music and all," he said in a level toned. Nike laughed and shook her head, poking at him and humming more teasing words. She could be a little pest sometimes.

When the set seemed to end, Nike huffed. "He's leaving, we should give him a tip!" She chirped, and before Thatcher could tell her not to talk to strangers, she was already digging into his pockets and snatching away his wallet. She skipped away to where the musicians were, a surprised expression on Thatcher's face at how bold she could be. It was nothing new, but always a surprise. With a huff, he sipped his coffee and collected their things, striding over to where she had slipped off to so she wouldn't give away all of their money.

Matteo perked up at Nike's words. He couldn't quite place who said them for a fact, but something told him they came from the mischievous girl and the seemingly embarrassed man beside her. He watched the girl come up, watched her drop money into the case, watched the other male coming up from the corner of his eye. He decided to talk anyway. "You're bold." He laughed a little bit. "Is that your.. brother? Dad?" Matteo pointed to Thatcher as he came up. "Thanks for the money, by the way." He winked at Thatcher, clicking his tongue. "It helps."

Nike had run up to begin pulling out valued bills and drop them in the case. Thatcher was quickly by her side, chuckling nervously and softly apologizing for her behavior as he quickly took the wallet back from the grabby girl. "He's not my brother! More like a dad, right, Thatchy?" Nike hummed cheerfully, looking up at Thatcher approvingly.

"Something like that," He murmured in reply before looking at the male who had been singing. He shifted on the balls of his heels at the wink, quickly adverting his gaze. What were the intentions of that little gesture. "It's not a problem," he replied, clearing his throat softly as he fidgeted with his button up collar for a short moment.

"Ah." Matteo hopped off of his stool, tugging on the sleeves of his overshirt. "'Something like that.'" He echoed back. That was a curious answer. He wouldn't pry, of course- Matteo didn't even know these people's names. His eyes flicked to watch Thatcher's hand on his collar. He looked nervous. Maybe uncomfortable.

He reached down to pet his dog. Matteo turned to the guitar player, nudging the guitar case of money over to him with a nod. "Thanks for your help, man." He nodded to the other musician before turning back to the small family in front of him. "So.. are you two here often?"

Nike noticed the dog and her head tilted a little bit. She tended to not do good with other animals due to her more aggressive nature, and if she had dog ears, Thatcher knew they would be pinned back.

Thatcher looked down at the male, who was quite a bit shorter than him. “No, this is our first time. We are new in town for business,” he explained. He would most likely be there for the next 100 years or so before being assigned to a different sector.

Matteo tilted his head curiously. "Really. Business, huh? Interesting. Whaddya do?" He looked down at his dog– who was looking pretty leery of Nike at the moment. He hooked a finger around the dog's collar just in case.

Matteo rocked on his heels slightly as he waited for an answer. His free hand traveled to his hair, tucking it behind his ear.

(Sorry for the delayed replies! I’ve been at the blm protests most of the day!)

“It’s an independent business thing.. Contracting,” Thatcher came up with. He couldn’t blurt out to a stranger that he was a Reaper. Nike snorted softly at the excuse before speaking again.

“What’s your name? Do you always play here?” the bubbly girl asked.

(that's totally okay, thank you for getting out there!)

"Contracting. Alright." Matteo nodded. He noted the girl's snort, but said nothing about it. He cocked his head at the question. "My name is Matteo." His eyes flicked between the two. "And sometimes. I play here and at a little hipster bar further downtown." Matteo let go of his dog's collar. "And this is Little Man." His arms crossed loosely over his chest. "What about you two? What are your names?"

(thanks, it was a really great time!)

Nike was nodding her head in interest, already seeming to mentally plan on getting them to meet up another time to listen to the music and talk.

"I'm Thatcher, and that's Nike," Thatcher spoke, tilting his head to nod it towards Nike. The girl smiled toothily and nodded her head with a delighted sort of hum. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dark trench coat, licking his lips to wet them as he eyed Matteo.

(sorry, i'm not gonna be massively active tonight!)

"Thatcher and Nike." Matteo parroted. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. He saw Thatcher's eyes rolling over him, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it. But he also recognized that Nike was there. And she was a child. Even if he wanted to make some sort of move (and he wasn't sure if he did), it would be ridiculously inappropriate. Matteo worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "You two should come back sometime. I play here every other day, afternoons and late mornings."

(that's totally ok!)

Thatcher caught the movement of Matteo biting at his bottom lip. It was enticing to him. Thankfully he had restraint and his eyes shifted away from the sight and to glance down at Nike. He had been about to answer Matteo's offer when Nike butted in. "Yeah! I like the music, it's fun. The sweets are also really good here," she giggled, rocking back and forth on her heels in a fidgety sort of manner.

Thatcher hadn't planned on sticking around on a routine to hang around one place almost every day. He was there for a job. That would get in the way a good amount of the time and he had no idea how to come up with a lot of excuses for why he had to suddenly rush off.

Matteo looked back at Nike. "Yeah, it is fun. Hey, I'm just letting you know, a lot of the sh- stuff," Matteo quickly corrected his language to be more kid friendly. "isn't too.. age appropriate." He sat back on his stool. "Just to let you know." Matteo seemed to be stuck in a rut here. Thatcher already had eyes on him, he had eyes on Thatcher, but neither of them seemed particularly set on voicing the mutual interest, at least not with Nike there. In theory, Matteo could get the other male's number, but he didn't want to look desperate.

Beside them, his guitarist was counting up the money and dropping it back into the case, along with his guitar. He'd get Matteo his share later.

Thatcher nodded his head a little bit, glancing down at Nike. He needed her gone for a second. He crouched down to her height, mumbling something in her ear. He had asked her to go scope out a place for them to stay the night at. She nodded, excitedly saying she would be back before skipping off, most likely getting away from the crowd to be able to morph into her hound state.

Now alone with Matteo, he straightened, looking down at the male once again. "Not age appropriate? Do you mind explaining further?" he asked with a little tilt of his head.

Matteo blinked in surprise, taking in the fact that Nike just.. up and left. Not that he was complaining. "It's nothing bad- no, wait, that's not true. It's a lot of explicit songs. Not like they're all raunchy, but.. you know. What happens will happen." He shrugged. "You know." Now that Nike was gone, his voice was more of a slight purr. Less careful than before by a long slide.

Thatcher noted the purr in the recognizable voice. He tilted his head a little bit, brows raised a tad. "Raunchy? Interesting.." he drawled out slowly. "Maybe I will come back. Without Nike, next time." It was a tough thing to say. But he just couldn't help himself. There was something about Matteo that drew him in, and he wanted to find out what that was. "Maybe I could.. get your cellphone number? Would be much easier to communicate about when shows will be that way," he said, thinking that was a decent enough excuse to use in place of asking 'Your voice hypnotized me, can I have your phone number to figure out why?'

"That's probably a good idea. Both things." Matteo fancied himself rather skilled at reading between the lines. He pulled out his phone- a cracked thing, but it still worked well enough. "Here you go.." Matteo handed over his phone. "Ignore any notifications that pop up." He considered going ahead and telling Thatcher that 'Hey, just letting you know, I've got Siren blood, so just know that," but.. maybe that wasn't smart. Not yet, at least. Right now, he'd just ride the wave and see what happened. "Mind texting me while you're here so I know it's you?"

Thatcher took the phone and got Matteo's number. He put that phone number in his own phone and nodded his head with a soft hum. "Yeah, I can do that," he said as he typed a message into the phone that read 'This is Thatcher, I enjoyed the show'. He handed the phone back to Matteo with a slight smile quirking at the corner of his lips.

Matteo read the message, slipping his phone back into his pocket. The corners of his mouth tugged into a small smile. "Thanks." He linked his finger together behind his neck. His eyed still flicked over Thatcher, and he wasn't even trying to hide it at this point. "Like I said, my next show here is the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm at Hop Dog Brewery downtown." An overpriced hipster brewery, but Matteo'd be damned if the people there didn't tip like their lives depended on it.

Thatcher definitely picked up on the staring, and he would be lying if he claimed it didn’t fluster him a tad. In his 800 years of life, he hadn’t had too many relationships. Most ran off anyways when he opened up about how he killed individuals on the daily, despite the fact it was only his job and he didn’t agree with it. “Maybe I’ll show up there,” he said, his little smile still lingering. “It’d be nice to hear that voice again.” That was bold of him. He was never too bold, especially with strangers.

(i've been meaning to ask, but do you mind if we transfer to PMs? even if it's not too bad yet, knowing how this is probably gonna go, i'd be more comfortable there)

Matteo flashed a small smile, his sharp Siren's teeth glinting almost menacingly. "You should. Maybe I'll take song requests after the set, if you stick around." He didn't hide his heritage, clearly something about him wasn't quite human. But he didn't like to offer it up willingly. Sometimes people got a little hung up on the whole "Sirens singing and then eating people" bit.