After the lights.

Ashwin Blythe. He/Him, 55. Hotel Manager.

[ashwin-blythe]

A S H W I N " A S H " B L Y T H E

age / d.o.b.: 55, March 4, 1967 height: 6'5" gender & pronouns: Cis man, he/him sexuality: Bisexual hometown: Ormiston, Saskatchewan occupation: Hotel Owner of the Bowery Hotel education: N/A relationship status: Single children: None

Full Bio is under the cut - please be aware of trigger warnings before proceeding.

biography -

tw // former drug-dealing, gang-related violence, mouth injury

No one knows where Ash was born, or to whom, but he was found at 9 years old, walking barefoot in the woods outside of Ormiston, Saskatchewan. The farmers who happened upon the lost and freezing kid brought him in for a warm meal and got him a thick blanket. He wouldn’t - couldn’t - talk, and no one recognized him. Without the means to keep him on, he was sent off to work and live with other unfortunate orphaned children in a workhouse in North Dakota.

Ash got a name over time. He was sent off as an extra stablehand, a manure shoveler, a miner. No one wanted him in their family, but they could use his sheer force. Ash rarely spoke, but he collected stories from other teens. Tucked them away for some day.

At 18, Ash was sent off on his own. He’s created his name into something resembling a normal one - Ashwin Blythe. Ashwin to sound more credible for work. Blythe, after the boy in Anne of Green Gables. An aimless wanderer much like when he’d been found as a child. This time, he had workable hands and the conviction of someone desperate to make money and survive. On his own, be damned. Solitary was fine.

He works where they’ll have him. Permanent callouses on his hands by 20. Often the coal scooper on the train, the gas station attendant. He slowly travels inward - an elongated tour of the United States.

At 30, he’s servicing cars in a podunk little town in Minnesota. Drugs are passed around and he watches it all from under a broken Chevy or behind a dinging cash register. He’s given hush money. Pulled in without ever confirming his interest. Soon he’s carrying it to places outside of town. Tucking grams into old work gloves and appearing for hand-offs. He sees handguns tucked into the backs of jeans. Knives on holsters off worn leather belts.

It’s all unofficial, and when he finally gets a new job at 36, he’s passed a bundle of cash to keep quiet - something Ash has never had a problem with. But something slips. Something changes.

He meets someone at a bar - a someone who entices him to talk. Stories of his younger years, funny anecdotes. And out comes his time at the gas station. It’s the first person Ash trusts to open up to. Someone he sees for months and months after.

At 37, Ash is working in Wisconsin when familiar forms come streaming out of a car. Four men hold him down, and hack his tongue with a blade. No more talking. No more slipping.

The warning is unforgettable. Ash leaves town- leaves the state. He finds a motel in Michigan that doesn’t ask questions. He works for his room. Mute and spooked, he does his job well. Soon enough, he’s managing it all. By 40, his resume looks… okay.

It’s on a spontaneous trip to New York City that he sees the gorgeous Bowery Hotel. Not even able to stay in it - just stares in awe from the outside. On a limb, he goes in and applies - and starts as a bellhop.

Ever trustworthy, ever diligent, Ash once again moves up. All the while, he meets many who come in and out.

At age 52, Ash is made Hotel Manager.

With more money and more resources, Ash has his tongue looked at and reconstructed at age 55. He still does not talk much if not ever, and his voice is rough and husky. Still, it has given him more freedom.

wanted connections / plots:

the one teaching him to speak - Ash is shy about his voice due to being nonverbal for years from his badly injured tongue. This would be someone he trusts implicitly who helps him form words and learn to talk again.

ones from his past - He’s lived all over. North Dakota, Wisconsin, Michigan. Worked at old gas stations, in mines, on farms. These could be people who recognize him. Friends or enemies.

lovers - Occasionally he will be swayed into a hotel bedroom or a bathroom stall. He’s a solitary being but secretly yearns for closeness of others. Messy, simple, complicated - all of the above!

[abunchofbadideas-deactivated202]

Taliesin responded to touch the way a cat might, almost purring for Ash, his eyelids slowly sliding lower, as if they were heavy. Again, he opened for Ash, allowed himself to be petted, kissed, explored. Here he was in his element, at the beck and call of someone else, subservient. He found a strange comfort in it. It was like remembering his purpose, his meaning. The way he returned Ash's kiss was lazy, submissive, waiting to be invited rather than advancing unbidden. "It's where I belong," Taliesin sighed, softly, smiling, his fingers curling and uncurling around Ash's calf. He'd been in this position often, with so many different men. It was the first time in a long time that Taliesin had truly wanted to be there, though. Ash felt safe, warm, like sunlight against his face. He didn't want to disappoint him

He turned his head slightly, pressed his mouth against the pads of Ash's fingers, letting them stutter against his lips, beckoning. "Would you put me somewhere else?"

[ashwin-blythe]

Where he belongs? Ash shakes his head at that - it's not an answer he likes. It shows him how Tal views himself. What he's been doing with these men, not that Ashwin had any doubt in his mind. Nonetheless, he plays with Taliesin's hair between long fingers. Brushes it back and sighs softly.

"You... belong up... h-here. With me." The hotel owner shifts a bit back, to make a spot up on the sofa - more importantly, on his lap.

Ash unbuttons his old denim shirt, showing the thin tank-top underneath. He wonders - knows Taliesin is spoiled, but now Ash is being clued in that perhaps it's only monetarily. Not with affection. Not with pleasure. And it only makes the older man more eager to touch him. He pulls hands around Tal's face again and tugs him into a more desperate kiss. Harsher, passionate. Not letting him argue about getting up into his lap, just pulling him to be there, to join him. Strong arms wrapping around his waist.

[abunchofbadideas-deactivated202]

People had this tendency to assume that Taliesin's apartment must be an enormous, high-end affair. In reality, it was expensive, but at the end of the day it was a bohemian little loft in Brooklyn, books on every available surface, mismatching fabrics and too many houseplants. Taliesin had a tendency to feel rather lonely at home. Too much space only intensified that. His personal space reflected something deeper than the shiny veneer he put on. Taliesin looked over his shoulder at Ash, following his movement towards the sofa. He took a gulp of the wine, then was up on his feet, setting his glass down on the coffee table. He considered Ash, the empty space beside him, the invitation of it... But it's not where he belonged. Instead, he dropped down onto his knees, occupied the space between Ash's legs. Taliesin's cheek came to rest on Ash's thigh, against the fabric of his trousers, the expanse of his bare neck on display. He looked back at Ash, meeting his gaze, a soft smile on his lips. "Hi."

[ashwin-blythe]

He's gorgeous. Ash has always thought so, of course. But he hasn't gotten to have this vantage point. Taliesin between his legs, his face against his thigh. Those gorgeous brown eyes... he traces fingertips along the other's cheek and down to his chin, and lets his thumb brush his lower lip.

"Hi..." He murmurs back. Ash can see his neck shown off to him and chuckles, brushing his hand down to the warm expanse of skin. Then he bends down to kiss him. Cradles his face as Ash leans himself over to him.

A soft smile against his mouth as he tugs his lower lip open. Tastes him briefly before murmuring, "...Why... on the floor...?"

[expirednostalgia-deactivated202]

Marcus' brows furrowed and it wasn't long before he was leaning over the counter to inspect the bottles a little closer. "Hey, what gives?" His eyes darted back to the employee stuck working the game. In all honesty, he wasn't too upset about the fact that he had wasted his own time and money on the game. If anything, he was more upset that there were probably a bunch of kids that wasted their entire allowances on this thing.

After listening to the frazzled employee explain that he just worked there and wasn't in charge of selecting the bottle sizes, Marcus pushed himself off the counter and chalked the whole thing up to a loss. "Well, that's a bummer. I guess I can just come up with another idea though." The slight disappoint he felt didn't linger on his face for too long. By the time he turned his attention to Ashwin again he was already sporting a bright smile, "Hey, thanks by the way. Even if there's nothing the guy can do, it was cool of you to say something." He was already quietly planning to pay for the other the next few times he stopped by the bakery as a better thank you.

[ashwin-blythe]

Ash isn't one to be a dick to someone who doesn't deserve it. The employee's not at fault - and he watches Marcus seem to take that all in stride, and turn away to look at the other rows of boardwalk games. While he does so, the hotel owner takes out a $20, and his eyes flit from a very large stuffed teal dolphin and then back to the employee with raised eyebrows. There's an understanding and a little chuckle as the big stuffed prize is brought down and handed to Ash.

A little shrug as he holds it out to the other. "Not... the em... employee's fault. But..." He can't help a soft grin, letting Marcus take it and tucking his hands into his pockets. "Least he... m-made it right." Was the big dolphin worth $20? Probably not. But still.

[abunchofbadideas-deactivated202]

In Taliesin's mind, Ash was so tied to the hotel that he hadn't been able to imagine him in another setting. It was part of what had thrown him for a loop at the bar - but the Ash he was currently experiencing wasn't so different that it tore down the old image he had. No it just expanded it. The way Ash's apartment looked was comforting, not-quite familiar.

At the sight of the dogs, Taliesin sat down on the floor, given over to childishness. He'd always loved animals, their uncomplicated affections. His own cat, Mrs. Robinson, an enormously fluffy white Persian was devoted to Taliesin, however much she seemed to hate literally everyone else. He'd spent so long dusting her fur of himself before he left the house he'd almost been late. "Hello. Hello darlings," he giggled, letting the pups climb all over his lap and push their faces into his. He scratched behind their ears, took the most excitable one into his arms to tickle its belly.

It wasn't a version of himself that people got to see, one that wasn't carefully curated and posed. He took his jacket off, not caring where it got to, pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, out of the way. His hair rapidly became mussed and fell out of its particular styling with the way one dog seemed determined to lick his ears, making Taliesin laugh and wrinkle his nose. "Stop it, you. That's my ear!" Then, quite suddenly, he seemed to remember himself. He looked up at Ash, sheepish. "Sorry. I like animals."

[ashwin-blythe]

He's barely got the door unlocked before Taliesin is off and ignoring him for the pups. Which... is honestly fair, when he has four sweet dogs who are all incredibly friendly and eager to see Tal in a different setting.

Ash moves to slip out of his shoes and close the door. He turns on a few lights, and brushes some of his long hair out of his face as he heads off to the kitchen. It's an open concept top-floor apartment. Essentially a penthouse but simpler and a bit smaller. But nonetheless, it looks important. Nice. With some warmth to it- old throw blankets on a large sofa, a balcony with dog beds out there that he clearly hangs out on during the mornings. A cup of coffee sits on the little deck table, one of his flannels hanging off a deck chair.

He shakes his head at Taliesin when he apologizes, and carries over two glasses of red wine. "No... apo...apologizing." Ash holds one glass out with a small nod. "Normal for... me to get oversh...adowed. By them." Ash teases, and takes a sip of his wine before he sits himself down on the sofa. Warm brown eyes watch Tal and he eyes the spot next to him.

[abunchofbadideas-deactivated202]

They way Taliesin usually kissed was all show, making the careful decision to look at their lips, to pull his own bottom lip between his teeth before he went in. A lot of effort, a lot of choreography, went into Taliesin convincing someone that he desired them. It was part of the illusion, why people were willing to pay so well. Even the people who weren't paying, usually he kissed them because it was easy to. He'd bat his eyelashes a little and then there it was, without so much as a thought about if he wanted the individual or wanted the feeling of a warm body beside his. It was almost surprise, the way Taliesin reacted. He stilled, let Ash dictate the pace, the motion and simply... Opened. He hadn't done that in a long time. Not since- No. Taliesin put the breaks on the thought. He didn't want to think about that, not now. He wanted to be in the moment, with Ash. His eyes slid closed and his head slowly listed sideways, baring his neck, trusting. Eventually he opened them again, fixing his gaze on Ash, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, home." On the city streets at night, Taliesin was all legs, his dark suit almost adding to the effect. For some reason people always forgot quite how tall he was. It was easy enough to match Ash's stride, even if Taliesin's grip on Ash's hand was perhaps a little too tight, like he was frightened of falling behind, or coming loose entirely, being lost. "It occurs to me that I don't actually know where you live."

[ashwin-blythe]

Simple, easy. Ashwin doesn't have to lean too far down to kiss him, nor does he need to do too much. He knows Taliesin will reciprocate. And more importantly, that he will certainly pull away or end it when he wishes to.

But it's so slow, and almost comforting. He can feel Tal's head turn, and Ash's hand slides up to caress it. A broad palm settling there while a thumb brushes the man's jaw.

He's grinning too, and he keeps his hand in his as they walk.

Ash chuckles, a warm rumble in his chest as he walks - wavy dark hair tousled from a bit of wind as they head down the sidewalk. "Near... here. A few... blocks. That okay...?" He has a nice place - any owner of a nice hotel would, after all.

And soon they're standing in front of a beautiful apartment building. It looks more like a fancy hotel, and his hand never leaves Tal's as he uses a card key to let himself in the front. Then, to the elevator. Hits the top floor, and tugs Taliesin back to him. Chest to chest, hands slotting around his waist. "The... pups will be... happy. T-To... see you." The four corgis, who often frequent the hotel lobby.

[abunchofbadideas-deactivated202]

Now Taliesin could feel the weight of Ash's disappointment in him. At least that's what he thought. His mouth twitched into an involuntary grimace and he had to look away, unable to stand it. Men like Richard were easy. They were never disappointed, they were only angry. Taliesin knew what to do with anger. His grip on Ash's fingers tightened, don't leave me bouncing around the inside of his skull.

"I'll hurt you, Ash." Because that's exactly what he did, every time. People who were nothing but kind to him ended up on the receiving end of his teeth, and Ash was one of the kindest, and Taliesin didn't want to hurt him... But goddamn if the thought of going home with Richard now made him want to curl up and die. "Take me home with you."

[ashwin-blythe]

Ash wonders, often, what Tal thinks of him. The man seems to assume that the hotel owner will get hurt… but how? He is under no assumption that this will go beyond this evening. Taliesin has men to court, to get his funds from. And Ash, while affluent, isn’t the type to fund lavish lifestyles. 

He knows what Taliesin is. It doesn’t mean he respects him any less. But it does mean that he doesn’t expect anything. In the end, Ashwin is a 55 year old hotel owner. Quiet, to himself. He knows that he isn't exactly many younger folk's type.

Ash grins though, at that request, because he thought he’d never ask. The hand has stayed in Tal’s and he uses it to lead him back towards the side door to head out. The tall man downs his drink and sets the empty glass down. Brushes his long hair out of his face and tugs Tal into the alleyway. It’s there  that he finds his face with long fingers, tracing his chin with his thumb, and kisses him. 

"Home... it is, then."

[lovemetopieces]

At his nod, Abigail reached down to pet the corgis as she listened to him speak. "I have a husky at home," she explained. "Alfredo isn't as well trained as your pups are though. He'd probably be running around the bar if I had him with me." She made sure to pet all four before sitting back up in her seat. She looked the man over and came to the conclusion that he must be someone important. Not only did he look it but the fact that the hotel allows him to walk around with four dogs off their leash meant he had to be salient. "Anyway," she paused. "You're the only person in this bar that I found mildly intriguing... So, tell me something about yourself. Anything. Help me make my night less boring."

[ashwin-blythe]

"Sounds... like fun, though." Ash points out. "They... are more rowdy... outside. But. Try to... help them.. behave."

He's the only one? Ash grins slightly, rolling up the sleeves of his nice shirt as two glasses of merlot are set down for them. The place is a bit dead, so he can't be too flattered. But he holds out a broad hand regardless to shake hers. "Ash... I'm the... owner." He explains with a small nod, words taking an extra moment to form around his tongue. "Your name?"

[expirednostalgia-deactivated202]

STATUS: open @bhqextras

LOCATION: coney island

Marcus had his eyes on one of the large stuffed prizes at the ring toss. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't particularly good at the amusement park game. "That one was kind of close, that has to count for something, right?" There was a hopefulness in his voice that quickly turned into a dejected sigh when the person behind the counter shook their head. He turned to the person nearest to him and held up one of his hands to the side of his mouth, "Do you think this thing is rigged?" Despite covering his mouth from the person behind the counter, he still spoke loud enough for them to hear him, earning himself a glare from them. "I mean, have you actually seen anyone win one of these things?"

[ashwin-blythe]

Ash watches, standing much like a tall and somewhat intimidating shadow at Marcus's side. He knows him from the bakery - and Ashwin loves visiting there in the morning before getting all his work at the hotel done. Fresh, warm croissants bright and early... so maybe he associates the other with good smells, a bright morning, and so even more-so, maybe he's a bit protective when he notices the rings aren't going over the bottles. "Maybe... they sh-should... swap out the bottles... for ones with... sm...smaller rims." He says it louder than Marcus had been speaking, hands fucked into old jean pockets, watching the man behind the counter with an even stare. Who looks a bit nervously back at him. Ashwin leans into the game's tabletop curiously, dark long hair cascading over one shoulder. "Since... the rings aren't big enough."

[abunchofbadideas-deactivated202]

"Ashamed of you? No. Never." In spite of everything, Taliesin actually liked Ash, and not in the way he usually liked people. He had all these friends who were models, actors, other rich kids and as much as he wanted to be around them, he also wanted to see them crumble and fail. It brought him great delight. Ash... He didn't want anything like that for Ash. Taliesin's eyes search for Richard, but he's gone, upstairs with the rest of his cohort. "Men like Richard want to know that they can buy me. They don't like imagining that anyone can have me for free. Especially someone whose face and name they know." His fingers reach almost involuntarily for a few strands of Ash's long hair, twisting it about his fingers. "Well that's what got me into all this trouble in the first place." He looked at Ash through his long eyelashes. "I brought shame upon my household."

[ashwin-blythe]

He wonders what the intent is, then. Tal has asked for help - but he won't just head out with Ash. It would look bad to Richard. The old man that he's pretty sure neither of them give a fuck about.

"So I... have to buy you?" Ash's hair is teased around a finger and he watches him. There's no judgment in his eyes- it's rare Ashwin would ever judge another for doing what they need to. It's more-so figuring out how he can best help the other.

Because he'd very much like to take him home, just as Tal had said. But he isn't the type of man he assumes Taliesin is looking for. "Maybe... I can... find you l-later." He murmurs. The hand is close enough, and he lifts one of his own- catches Tal's and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A smirk, because it's a bit corny. And Ash is fully aware.

"Don't... want to keep you from... Dick."

[abunchofbadideas-deactivated202]

Older men had always been a problem. Sure, Taliesin fucked around, had previously dated boys his own age, but even as a teenager he'd been screwing men in their forties, fifties, older than that even. It wasn't the gay thing that had pissed off his parents, they'd seen that coming when he was a toddler, it was the audacity of it all. The way Taliesin had done exactly what he wanted, without a care in the world: other people's husbands, fathers, his professors at university...

His family finding out that he'd been fucking his father's business partner, fucking him for years and years, had been the last straw. His parents hadn't even spoken to him, just quietly blocked his number, had the locks changed on the house. Taliesin's brother had called eventually, given him the dressing down of a lifetime about what an embarrassment he was, what he'd jepordised without thinking. And the worst part was that his father was still working with him, had managed to patch it up for the sake of the enterprise, but not for the sake of the family. And now he did exactly what he'd always done, but now there was money involved. There was always a destructive, angry impulse in him, but then he really would be risking it. There were no lifelines now. God, he wanted to burn the world down. "It would have to be a secret," Taliesin hummed, looking at Ash. What was it about older men? "But you're very good at keeping secrets, I suspect."

[ashwin-blythe]

Ashwin still wonders why it would need to be a secret. Taliesin walks around with old men all the time. What's another? Maybe Ash isn't as old as most of the men he's seen Tal with, but... he's still in his mid 50s now.

"Why?" He walks a bit closer, and tilts his head in curiosity. He has this urge to prove himself and he's not sure why. "A...Ashamed, of me?" Ash's voice is hushed, rough, still working his tongue around the words. He's nearly chest to chest with Tal as he takes a light sip of his drink.

Briefly, his eyes flit around the room. Then he turns back to the other with a warm gaze, with raised eyebrows. "I... am good at s-secrets." He murmurs. "You... do not seem... to be."

[mikalaseabrookearchive]

Ever the quiet and attentive type, Mikala merely listens to Ashwin; the distinct quality of his voice, the cadence of his speech. Attention shifts only briefly when the glasses of wine are placed on the bartop, and he reaches for his own, sipping and savoring the merlot.

Eyes go from the aforementioned corgi to Ashwin again, head tilting slightly, "Freddie? That's... charming." A little smile, though it's anyone's guess if it's in regards to the dog or the other's introduction.

"Mikala, love," as he reaches his own hand out to shake Ash's. "Why so many?" And that same hand is now vaguely motioning towards the four dogs, though he's mindful to not take a judgmental tone.

[ashwin-blythe]

He sips his own wine - takes his time to enjoy it. Ash is tired from a full day, but having any sort of company that's not snapping fingers at him to be faster, hitting the assistance bell at the front counter obnoxiously... insisting bags be carried up flights of stairs.

Ash lets himself sink a bit further into his chair. Eyes the man's comment about Freddie's name. Not entirely sure if that's sarcasm or not. Charming. "Bowie... Freddie... Queenie... George." He points to each one to give their names.

Mikala. A unique name for a unique man. A soft nod. "The three... are... siblings. Were... at a pound. Couldn't... leave them. But Freddie is... new."

[expirednostalgia-deactivated202]

Santiago wasn't really someone to frequent bars, alcohol being a vice he didn't overindulge in. Tonight however, he had decided he wasn't quite ready to go home yet and found himself wandering into the hotel bar. The atmosphere in there seemed to suit him better than most other places in the city. There weren't any large crowds nor was there obnoxiously loud music that he would have to shout over just to order something. Instead things here felt relatively peaceful.

As usual, he had intended to stick to himself for the evening, but when the other extended an invitation to the seat across from him he figured it wouldn't kill him to be a little more social for a change. "Thanks, I'll have the same." He spoke softly as he sat down. He wasn't particularly great at small talk and for a moment was convinced the pair would fall into silence until he spotted the corgis. "Are those your dogs?" A very faint smile accompanied his question.

[ashwin-blythe]

Ashwin understands wanting a bit of time alone, so he wouldn't have been upset if he'd been rejected. Another evening alone with a glass of red wine in the hotel bar. Not a big deal.

Instead, he watches the other stand and shift to his table. A small nod and a smile as he motions for two merlots instead of one to the bartender. The tall hotel owner's long legs are tucked under the chair, and he slips out of his suit jacket with a small nod. "...Mine. Yes." He murmurs. "Feel... free to say... hi, they're... friendly." His words take a bit longer to form with a recovering tongue, but nonetheless his tone is warm, and kind.

"Ash." He holds out a broad hand to the other man with a small nod, eyeing him for a moment. "...What... brings you h-here?"

[abunchofbadideas-deactivated202]

The question pierced Taliesin. Maybe it showed on his face, the way his stomach suddenly crunched inwards. If he was honest, it was more than merely being tired of Richard. The best part of three years in and he was tired of this entire charade, the way he always left before he was cast aside. He wanted to go home, back to Mumbai, to the warmth and the distant, confusing love of his parents, to his brother. Alas, his banishment persisted. A lifetime of trying to win affection from his parents had made him more than adept at this, at charm and flirtation. People fell over themselves for Taliesin. He noticed when they didn't; it piqued his curiosity and then, if he wasn't very careful, he ended up laser-focused on obtaining their approval. He could feel it, the pull, from Ash, always watching him, ever-so quiet. "Very good."

That was Taliesin's schtick, being unobtainable, except for the very wealthiest, those of the highest social calibre. It made them feel like they'd achieved something, the honour of his presence. And Ash's, presumably, was his discretion. Taliesin could bring home all the nameless pretty boys from the club that he wanted, that was par for the course, and they were gone in an instant. He'd be playing a very dangerous game with Ash, compromising his image - and, likely, so would Ash. He smiled sadly, sipped at his drink. "I'd ask you to take me home, but I think that would be bad for both of our businesses."

[ashwin-blythe]

His drink stays in his hand and he swirls it almost sub-consciously as he regards the other. Ash has seen many different sorts around the hotel, and of course, around New York City. He's gone from a bellboy to maintenance, to concierge, to manager. To owner. All from nothing - and there's no way he could've done such things without learning the nuances of people he sees frequent his business.

Taliesin is interesting, though. Seemingly pretentious and spoiled. Seemingly vain in his own way... and yet, Ash can feel something beneath the surface. Maybe a sadness, an emptiness. Jury's still out, but Ash is curious enough to keep poking around.

A little smile at the proposition that isn't exactly one. Ash murmurs in a near purr - a rumbling tone in his chest: "Bad... for business? To... take you... home?" An eyebrow raise, a tiny smirk as he takes another long sip of his own drink. Shaking his head. "All the... old men... will get... jealous, of... this old man." He adds, gesturing to himself with a look to the left and right at the affluent older idiots around. Their version of 'casual' for this place is golf shorts and a polo. Ashwin would rather die than fuck one of them - but he gets why Tal does it.

[lovemetopieces]

They were renovating Abigail’s loft this week so they set her up with a room at a fancy hotel not too far from where she lives. She found herself to be bored up in her room. Technically it was late and she probably should have been sleeping but she found herself at the hotel bar. It was barely occupied itself. She didn’t see anybody intriguing enough to go talk to. So she decided to help herself to a drink. Maybe that will liven up the night? Abigail had just finished her drink and was about to give up on the night when a man walked in tooting four adorable corgis. When he catches her eye then eyes the seat in front of him, inviting her to sit, Abigail obliged, making her way over towards him. “I’ll have what he’s having,” she says at she sits down. “I think your dogs are adorable. May I pet them?”

[ashwin-blythe]

He gives a soft nod to the bartender - two glasses of merlot, then. And then, watches as the corgis get comfortable settling on the ground. Normally they're on leashes, but it's very quiet tonight, and people don't check in as often at this hour. So he's let them free to follow him about the lobby and into the bar and restaurant.

Another nod. "Feel... free." The four corgis are all very sweet - there are two with a lot of darker markings and white bellies, another in tan with a white belly. And one who's far younger, a puppy- also a buff color. "They... are fr...friendly. Sort... of follow... me around."

[abunchofbadideas-deactivated202]

Taliesin inclined his head, resting it between his thumb and forefinger as he looked up at Ashwin. "Richard? God no. Not only is the man a total boor, he's a total bore." Richard was all strippers and cocaine, the gaudy lifestyle of the newly minted, not the traditional attitude of four-hundred years of family wealth that he'd been expected, but men in finance were all the same. "He thinks I'm tacky enough to want Gucci. Please. What good's being kept if I'm not being kept well?"

It took Taliesin somewhat by surprise, the way Ashwin looked. Hotel staff, even managers, had a tendency to dress like part of the upholstery. That was the point though, to be invisible, to make the entire experience seamless. Seeing him like this... Well, it wasn't quite as bizarre as seeing a PE teacher out of their sports gear, and much more pleasant. "Who let you out of the hotel?" Taliesin smirked. "What's that expression they use about Henry Cavill? Oh yes. You grime up good."

[ashwin-blythe]

Perhaps if Ash had more of a way with words, he'd make a joke about Taliesin complaining about Gucci. But little jabs and comments are harder when his tongue works a bit slower than others. Words must be curated, chosen wisely... so instead he just gives the other a look.

His glass is lifted to his lips as he takes in the other. A moment where his warm brown eyes just seem to shift over Taliesin, who he always sees with some old man paying for his drinks, his dinners. A nice hotel room... who let him out of the hotel? "I did." He is the owner after all, not that he announces that at every moment of every day. Then, a glance down to his own clothing. "Grime... up good..." A smirk. "You think... it looks good, then?" He asks, shifting a bit closer. "I ask... again. How.. can I help, Tal?"

[mikalaseabrookearchive]

There is no logical reason for Mikala to be at a hotel, when he has a perfectly fine home that's costing him an arm and a leg to pay off, however he's found himself at one regardless. Perhaps he enjoys hotel bars more than standalone businesses, finding them to be a little more peaceful. Quiet.

He doesn't expect there to be dogs—four of them, to be specific—and he's eyeing them with a curiosity. Inevitably, he catches the eye of their owner and he merely returns the curt nod. It would be rude, wouldn't it, if he ignored the invitation?

So, he takes a seat next to the man.

"Merlot as well," comes his gentle murmur. Dark eyes flitter from the corgis once more, then back to Ashwin, "I would say you have your hands full but they appear to be quite behaved." Better than most, he wants to say.

[ashwin-blythe]

Sometimes, people walk into the hotel and Ashwin can pin a hypothetic life on them. He can daydream about what kind of person they are- what they're doing in New York City, what they do. The person he's invited to come sit with him is harder to peg. A darker aesthetic, an interesting look. Someone who gives a vivid mysteriousness Ash enjoys.

And he gets the same drink, too. Deep red wine, like Ash. His warm gaze focuses on him and he gives a soft nod. "They... are. Fr...Freddie is the... newest." He points to the smallest, who's tucked up against one of the bigger corgis. "I r...run a... tight sh-ship." He explains, and holds out a broad hand to the man. "...Ash."