NofaceFell
No.Face
Killian
The morning is cold and it starts the same way it usually does. Horrible. The sun is too bright, the dog is barking at the ghosts of aliens from Christmas past and his roommate is singing off key in the shower. Probably shaving his legs or some shit. Killian snorts softly at the thought and heaves himself from the bed, grabbing the pair of jeans hung over his computer chair and the first shirt he sees. He isn't even sure if it's his, their clothes tend to mix even though they no longer share a room like in the dorm, but it's plain and doesn't have any fancy buttons so he's happy with it. Rubbing sleep from his eyes the redhead is bombarded by the thick body of their shared dog. "Quinn...you ass." he mutters, feeling the dogs claws scraping at his legs through his jeans. Big brown eyes make his annoyance fade quickly, it also makes a bowl full of food appear but Killian doesn't acknowledge that a four-legged asshole has him wrapped around his tail.
A look at his watch lets him know he has time to grab a coffee and some breakfast from the coffee shop before heading into class. He only has two and by noon his learning is done, replaced with his shift in his mothers funeral home. He looks forward to it, down there no one judges where he came from, or the fact that his mom is the 'creepy lady' who likes touching dead people. He runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it as best he can before grabbing his coat. He doesn't bother calling out a goodbye, the slamming of the front door is usually enough to let Ragan know he's gone. The walk is uneventful, nothing but busy people rushing where they need to go and ignoring him as much as he ignores them. He holds the door of the shop open for an elderly couple exiting, repaying there gentle good morning with his own as he steps inside. The air is warm and smells like the rich coffee he has come to enjoy here. Catching sight of his favorite barista he gets in line, leaning over the counter when it's his turn and immediately noticing the tense way Daniel addresses him. Frowning, Killian narrows his eyes and tilts his head. "What's up, Daniel?"
......
Ragan
The day passes, as usual, Ragan wakes extra early, he has a shift at the host club and he needs to make sure he's presentable for the woman who runs it. She likes them all to look their best, which while good for business is a little annoying when he has early classes as well. He looks at himself in the mirror for a moment, running his eyes over his face. What a loser. The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like his roommate, which disturbs him to no end, it's like Killian is so much more balanced as a person...right? Ignoring his own question he leaves the bathroom finally dressed, stopping only to pet Quinn and grab his bag. Sometimes it's almost like we don't really live here.
His classes drone by, and he half pays attention, distracted by doodling on papers he should be taking notes on and avoiding the couple of young women who don't seem to like taking no for an answer. He's a host, not a prostitute and or some reason that is hard for some to grasp. His day seems to only gain color when noon rolls around, classes taking a break long enough that he meets with the small circle of friends he actually claims as such. Killian, normally very vocal and loud is shockingly quiet, but the Irishman leaves before Ragan can question him. Worry sits in the back of his head, as it tends to. By the time his shift rolls around he almost doesn't want to go. The thought of faking conversation and acting enthralled by a woman he has no interest in makes him feel a bit ill. Rent. Dog food. Killians DVD addiction. So many things rely on his half of the money for the month that he hangs his head in defeat for a few moments before finally entering the club. He is greeted by the mostly friendly faces of those he works with. Getting his assignment for the evening from the woman who hired him. He returns her smile, flirting lightly with the older, very pretty woman as they all tend to do. She could inflate any ego with her smiles and laughter.
The woman today is new, though he swears he has seen her before. On campus maybe? Hs walk is smooth as he approaches and touches the seat opposite of her in the private room. "May I sit?" When given consent he does so, settling in and smiling. She is beautiful and he wonders if that is all there is. "My name is Ragan, I'll be your host for the next little while. It's very nice to meet you, Miss...?"
Lucyfer
The morning is cold and it starts the same way it usually does. Horrible. The sun is too bright, the dog is barking at the ghosts of aliens from Christmas past and his roommate is singing off key in the shower. Probably shaving his legs or some shit. Killian snorts softly at the thought and heaves himself from the bed, grabbing the pair of jeans hung over his computer chair and the first shirt he sees. He isn't even sure if it's his, their clothes tend to mix even though they no longer share a room like in the dorm, but it's plain and doesn't have any fancy buttons so he's happy with it. Rubbing sleep from his eyes the redhead is bombarded by the thick body of their shared dog. "Quinn...you ass." he mutters, feeling the dogs claws scraping at his legs through his jeans. Big brown eyes make his annoyance fade quickly, it also makes a bowl full of food appear but Killian doesn't acknowledge that a four-legged asshole has him wrapped around his tail.
A look at his watch lets him know he has time to grab a coffee and some breakfast from the coffee shop before heading into class. He only has two and by noon his learning is done, replaced with his shift in his mothers funeral home. He looks forward to it, down there no one judges where he came from, or the fact that his mom is the 'creepy lady' who likes touching dead people. He runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it as best he can before grabbing his coat. He doesn't bother calling out a goodbye, the slamming of the front door is usually enough to let Ragan know he's gone. The walk is uneventful, nothing but busy people rushing where they need to go and ignoring him as much as he ignores them. He holds the door of the shop open for an elderly couple exiting, repaying there gentle good morning with his own as he steps inside. The air is warm and smells like the rich coffee he has come to enjoy here. Catching sight of his favorite barista he gets in line, leaning over the counter when it's his turn and immediately noticing the tense way Daniel addresses him. Frowning, Killian narrows his eyes and tilts his head. "What's up, Daniel?"
......
Ragan
The day passes, as usual, Ragan wakes extra early, he has a shift at the host club and he needs to make sure he's presentable for the woman who runs it. She likes them all to look their best, which while good for business is a little annoying when he has early classes as well. He looks at himself in the mirror for a moment, running his eyes over his face. What a loser. The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like his roommate, which disturbs him to no end, it's like Killian is so much more balanced as a person...right? Ignoring his own question he leaves the bathroom finally dressed, stopping only to pet Quinn and grab his bag. Sometimes it's almost like we don't really live here.
His classes drone by, and he half pays attention, distracted by doodling on papers he should be taking notes on and avoiding the couple of young women who don't seem to like taking no for an answer. He's a host, not a prostitute and or some reason that is hard for some to grasp. His day seems to only gain color when noon rolls around, classes taking a break long enough that he meets with the small circle of friends he actually claims as such. Killian, normally very vocal and loud is shockingly quiet, but the Irishman leaves before Ragan can question him. Worry sits in the back of his head, as it tends to. By the time his shift rolls around he almost doesn't want to go. The thought of faking conversation and acting enthralled by a woman he has no interest in makes him feel a bit ill. Rent. Dog food. Killians DVD addiction. So many things rely on his half of the money for the month that he hangs his head in defeat for a few moments before finally entering the club. He is greeted by the mostly friendly faces of those he works with. Getting his assignment for the evening from the woman who hired him. He returns her smile, flirting lightly with the older, very pretty woman as they all tend to do. She could inflate any ego with her smiles and laughter.
The woman today is new, though he swears he has seen her before. On campus maybe? Hs walk is smooth as he approaches and touches the seat opposite of her in the private room. "May I sit?" When given consent he does so, settling in and smiling. She is beautiful and he wonders if that is all there is. "My name is Ragan, I'll be your host for the next little while. It's very nice to meet you, Miss...?"
Lucyfer