Joseph Morvell (brute_aesthete) wrote in nybynightic, @ 2020-09-17 21:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | activity type: log/thread, character: joseph morvell, character: rhys green |
Who: Joseph and Rhys
What: Dinner and a show (and more)
When: 9/17 - 10pm onward
Where: The Paramour
Rating: NSFW
Status: Complete
Joseph very rarely suffered nerves. In his life or unlife. When he'd presented himself to the Prince eighteen years ago. Opening night of every show. That was about it. But tonight was an exception. He'd rejected at least five suits in his quest to look better than usual and not look like he was overcompensating. The ghoul who served as his valet and driver was watching the frantic activity with amusement. "You're acting like a lovesick schoolboy," he observed as put away the last shirt Joseph had rejected.
Joseph shot him a quelling look, then laughed. "That's because I feel like one," he admitted. He preferred not to lord over his retinue. They were mostly young, mostly Americans who had grown up in a country where at least the theory was every man was equal. He had long ago discarded most of the trappings of nobility. While he was a member of the court of New York, he was merely important enough to usually get his way, but not important enough to make the effort to topple from his position. This suited Joseph just fine. Besides, he didn't want asskissing minions who couldn't do anything of their own accord. So they referred to him by his given name and didn't fear his wraith over offering uncomfortable truths. He'd earned their devotion and they his and that was how he liked it. He never wanted to force anyone to serve him.
Rhys was so like Matthew when they met it was as if he'd been reborn. Innocent and sheltered, gripped by emotions he didn't understand. Joseph hadn't been so careful back then. No, he was a clumsy, but determined young Cassanova, with only one goal in mind.
Perhaps he was worrying too much. He wasn't the same selfish, hormonal boy who had never been told no in his bloody life. He knew how to be gentle, to be giving, to surrender. Back then, he had never experienced love before, nor the pain of losing it. Which was likely why he was all nerves. He'd found love so many times, only to lose it to tragedy. But he was far too much of a romantic to ever give up on love completely.
Finally, he decided on a dark gray silk suit with a dark cerulean shirt underneath. His complexion had always been far to fair for black to look anything but morbid and his blue eyes favored shades of blue, gray and greens. The fact that he'd kept remembering Rhys beautiful green eyes settled his choice on the dark greenish blue hue. Once his wavy dark brown hair, mustache, and beard were orderly, Joseph headed out to wait for his guest to arrive.
The Paramour's exterior was a similar brownstone to the rest of the buildings on the block, including the house behind it where his retinue lived. His own quarters took up the upper floor above the theater itself. The rest of the interior was a replica of the mid-century cabaret he'd operated in Paris. There was neon every where and heavy brocades and faux gold trim on everything. But the pretentiousness was part of it's charm, he thought.
Now hopefully, his date wouldn't get cold feet.