Description: After locating Sabrewulf in California, Velvet Blue uses a little magic to whisk the werewolf back with him to rendevous with Tsinghua.
Velvet Blue has tracked the fearsome Sabrewulf down to where he was hiding out in California. It wasn't hard, only had to follow the reports of gang members getting attacked and talking to a few of their mothers or girlfriends for info on where abouts and when. Plus using Velvet's own supernatural senses. Once Sabrewulf was located, Velvet would have just had to assure him a little, job his memory of who they were both and also ply him with a bottle of whiskey to get the werewolf a bit less rowdy. This was important, you see, for what Velvet had to do next. There was no fuckin' way he was getting Konrad, who couldn't transform, onto a plane, or a boat--he was far too big to stuff into a cat carrier or some kind of cage, after all--and furthermore he wouldn't put anyone he knew in a cage either, friendly or not.
The solution? He had to find a mirror. A big mirror.
Cut to... Velvet Blue, clad in one of his full-body black fur-ruffed collared suits, black trenchcoat over that and sparkly/starry thigh-high high-heeled platform boots with Sabrewulf in tow, on a dog leash of all things, as he tries to lead him through the sliding front door of a Macy's department store.
"C'mon now Konrad, just relax and be natural--hey don't worry buddy, he's my companion service animal, okay? I need 'em for my emotional health!" Velvet grinned and waved off a sales clerk with a flick of his black-nailed hands, as he lead Sabrewulf towards the back where the dressing rooms are.
Of course, in truth, the situation was a bit more complicated than a simple game of Hide and Seek in California. When it came to Freiherr Konrad von Sabrewulf, nothing was ever simple. Not every thug is a pushover, but despite the punishment received at the hands of a rather strong gang boss the blue-gray werewolf cleans up well and heals quickly. While not his finest moment, Velvet Blue has seen the aristrocrat far worse off in the past. After some discussion, with some ideas run by that don't sit well with either half of the werewolf's mind, resignation at the depths of a bottle help to push the situation along.
While the beast in tow may seem docile, even somewhat subdued, thanks to the pacifying effects of alcohol, his glowing eyes may put some people off right quickly. He says nothing, however; Sabrewulf walks along step by step in passive observation of those around him. Sounds and smells tell him plenty without having to stare anybody down. He tries to keep his gaze foreward. Notably on edge, this plan is something he hopes works, because he doesn't trust he'll be able to recover in the public eye if something goes sideways and he winds up in a panic-induced rage. Thank Daniels for Jack.
On the bright side, Sabrewulf has kept himself out of the public light for decades. He has no reputation weighing him down. That doesn't mean he doesn't look dangerously scary. Face forward, ears swivel to listen in on each person passed in turn. Why do people have to stare? Don't they know it's a challenge waiting to be met?
"What do you think of this, Kon? Is this your style?" Velvet grins as he pulls a very skimpy looking men's tank top off the rack by the hanger, on the way to the changing room. It's true though that Sabrewulf is a fearsome to behold, and though many people are freaking out and trying to draw away, understandably a fair amount are still pulling their phones out to try and record.
Throwing open the changing room door, Velvet tosses the tank into the corner, having only used it as the thinnest excuse to actually go into said changing room, and he has no intention of stealing. "Fucking polyester, anyway," instead, Velvet reaches out, flattening a palm against the full-length mirror adjacent to them. Subtly, energy begins rippling out from Velvet's arm and into the mirror, causing the surface of it to look like the surface of a wading pool that just had a stone cast into it--after a moment it begins to reflect... neon lights? It is a bit of an awkward moment waiting there, and Vel has already taken his hand away and is actually head down looking at his phone, texting Tsinghua that he found Konrad, and to come to the club, casually as he stands there, the leash semi-wrapped around his wrist.
"Okay, I'm going to take your hand, and we're going to step through? Ready? One, two--" and Velvet platform booted leg out, not shattering the mirror, but instead his leg just passes right into it, like it had really become a pool of liquid.
And they would be stepping out onto the full-length mirror on the stage at the Gold Lounge, back in Southtown.
At the moment, there is already an act going on, as they step out--with a few women and queens clad in sparkling colorful lingerie, apparently doing some kind of cabaret performance.
No stranger to perfectly scientific alchemical effects that may seem to be magic to the mundane or uneducated, the idea of using a mirror as a doorway is new but not reality-shattering to Konrad. The wolf does take a moment to give the doorway a poke with the tip of a claw before first glancing backward before pushing through. Accosted by lights, sound, and smells, Sabrewulf goes still once through, on the stage, stunned by the sensory overload. Twitchy looks are given around, steps taken to draw away from any performers as if touching them might burn his fur, and seemingly immediately becomes lost without taking more than just a few steps.
What took an act of willpower and sedation to wander so freely into a public place with gawking people has lessened effect here. This is beyond his experience. Upper lip lifting not in a snarl but an expression of instant social discomfort, a hand reaches back to feel from where he came. Clawtips tap against mirrored glass and yet another glance over his shoulder is given. Muzzle scrunched, the werewolf remains mostly frozen in place like a statue of gothic art.
"A-Ah, you're here!"
Tsinghua had been the first to set Velvet on his search. A simple phone-call to explain what had happened. The boy had run into a terrifying werewolf in Sunshine City, who subsequently helped him out with a bunch of lowlifes. Saved him, actually. Sabrewulf had dropped the boy off at his hotel. He had not heard from the wolf since. But good news had come: Velvet had found Sabrewulf, and they would be coming back to the Gold Lounge shortly. Tsinghua luckily was in Southtown at that time, and popped by to recieve the soon-to-be arriving pair. He was sitting fairly close to the stage, on it's side- Shyly looking at the mildly risque performance with a slight blush. He was dressed in his Paoshan this time around. A long beige robe from a single piece with incredibly floppy sleeves. It was embroidered with small leaf-like patterns in green.
He saw Velvet and Tsinghua show up through the mirror.. it should have been more surprising. But it was still somehow less surprising then the surreal experience of dancing men in Lingerie. He.. did not really understand nor like the performance, but he was trying to learn and enjoy this type of theater. He stands up, creeping a bit closer to the stage to beckon Sabrewulf to step down the stage, before bowing. "It seems we meet again, mr. Sabrewulf. Do you feel well?" and without skipping a beat, bows toward Velvet all the same. "And the same for you, Sirong. I am happy that my information was put to good use."
"Welcome to the Gold Lounge. It is.. an interesting locale."
"Sorry girls, coming through~" Velvet stepped around the cabaret performance, down the steps at the side of the stage and gently tugged the leash off Konrad, balling it up and getting rid of it. As he walked off the stage, leading the werewolf away from it, or trying to. "Come on now, I know being on stage is probably a first for you, mostly you've just seen me up here, heh heh~" Velvet soothingly muttered into the werewolf's ear as he tried to get him more comfortable, and moving, once they were down and off the stage the performance would just resume. Apparently this wasn't the first time he's done such a thing. It's also exactly why Velvet kept that mirror there--though it was covered up most of the time.
"He's a little drunk, I had to spend some time talking to him, you know, remind him of who we both were, what we were supposed to be doing, which is getting him some help--he's kind of in a bad way if he can't transform," Velvet gestured to one of the waitresses to get them a table ready, and extra chairs around it so they could have a place to sit.
In all of Sabrewulf's awkward glory, he doesn't manage to fully extract himself from the stage without bumping into at least one performer. It's not a particularly jarring contact, just a glancing point that leaves the werewolf immediately telling the drag dancer, "Entschuldigung, meine Dame," before nearly falling from the stage completely. He doesn't quite fall, but it's a far cry from the impressive pounce he made onto the thugs in that alleyway with Tsinghua.
Stepping in closer to Velvet Blue, partially missing poor Tsinghua in all the confusion, the werewolf speaks even more as he follows along. "Ich habe keine Ahnung, was los ist. Ich glaube, ich brauche mehr Bier, um zu verstehen, wo genau ich bin." It seems that Konrad has reset to his factory language settings. Strangely, his werewolf form does not have the strong Bavarian accent that he does in his other body. "Ich wusste, dass Du ein Performer waren, ein Schauspieler; es geht darum, was Sie tragen. Ich bin verwirrt. Ich denke, dass Frau ein Mann war."
Only then does the werewolf seem to take notice of Tsinghua, despite the greetings the boy gave him already. This might show just how confused and overwhelmed Konrad is. "Warum ist das chinesische Noble hier? Die Familie Gong wird bemerken, ja?" Sabrewulf, unleashed, steps in closer to the young man and leans in to ask with liquor-laden breath, "Hallo, Tsinghua. Was ist los?" He's so so very far out of his own element, especially in contrast to the last year, and it painfully shows. Thankfully, Sabrewulf is bulky, but not too large for most chairs. If he can cram into a junker to drive Tsinghua around Sunshine City at Night, he can manage sitting at a table. He has tables back home, you see, so there's some experience with them.
Tsinghua... does not speak german.
Tsinghua is multilingual. Mandarin, Japanese, Korean, English, and even Spanish. At all of those languages, he is close to fluent. But German? -German-? He can only pick up the few snippets that are names or sounds similair to English.
'Why is the chinese noble here? The Gong Family..?' 'Hello Tsinghua, what is..?'
It is.. something to work with. "I- I am well, mr. Sabrewulf.. But I mostly do not understand what you're saying. I do not speak german, you see."
He sits down not too far from Sabrewulf, giving the beast an awkward, but friendly face. "Relax, mr. Sabrewulf- I am sure you will feel comfortable soon." Although he did not understand Sabrewulf saying he was confused, it is rather obvious by reading the wolf's current mannerisms. He turns toward one of the waitresses with a polite smile. "If it's not too much trouble, could you perhaps bring some water for the table? I think that would be good for mr. Sabrewulf.."
"You're in the Gold Lounge, my club," Velvet responds to Konrad, helping to right him as he nearly falls right off the stage, the performer meanwhile that Sabrewulf bumped into seems a little surprised at a giant fucking werewolf coming through a mirror at the back of the stage, and also bumping into it--doing a little jump as he realizes that it is in fact, a giant fucking werewolf--but manages a little giggle despite that, before returning to the spot they were on to keep up the act.
"I got 'em~" he waves Tsinghua over to join them. "Thanks for telling me where he was," Velvet sighs as he slips down into a chair, having the waitresses bring over a pitcher of beer, as well as a few beef jerky snacks for Sabrewulf. He doesn't want the werewolf to get completely tipsy tonight, after all, they need to talk.
"Oh and some water for the boy, or soda--whichever he prefers--I keep forgetting he's not old enough to drink," Velvet calls back to the bunny lady waitress. It's a good thing in a way, it seems to Vel, one less person drinking up a storm is a good thing.
At being told that Tsinghua does not speak German, the reply comes along the line of 'what does that have to do with anything'...in German. Then it clicks. The werewolf sighs in exasperation where he takes to sitting, elbows loudly thumping against the table as large clawed hands hide part of his elongated face covering his eyes. His ears also dip backward. "Gold...Lounge. Where is this exactly?" That's the English people have in common!
Slowly, fingers are pulled down over the sides of Sabrewulf's face and a bleary tired look is given those sitting at the table with him. His glowy-eyed gaze settles on Velvet. "It's been a long time. I figured you had, mm, forgotten me for the best." Velvet Blue and Konrad have had conversations by the fireside in the Bavarian estate in the Alps in the past with Konrad in werewolf form. Velvet may even remember seeing the wolfman smoking a cigarette with a holder. Very posh and old school. "Seems like only last week I found you chased up that tree." His head turns to regard both once more. "So, I was right. I did smell him on you, Tsinghua. How small the world is..." More beer will be welcomed. Sabrewulf has a hardy constitution. He can handle beer pretty well of all strengths.
Konrad has yet to take in the nature of many of the employees and even customers.
Apparently, his request for water went unheard by all. He does look a little miffed at that, but makes no scene of it. "Of course, Sirong. Glad to have helped." He responds, nodding- Before repeating himself to the waitress. "Could I have a bit of water, please? Thank you."
The boy looks toward Sabrewulf. "We are in the city of Southtown, in Japan, mr. Sabrewulf." And explains. A few seconds later, another thing Tsinghua can explain comes up. "That is correct, mr. Sabrewulf. I informed him about your location, after your mention of Sirong- Uh, Velvet. I was a little worried about you, you see." Yet another polite smile, as he shifts a leg to cross it over his other. "It was not very long ago, mr. Sabrewulf, but indeed more then a week. I-In the meanwhile.." He hesitates for a moment, opens his mouth: closes it again, before finally talking.
"A-Are you sure it's a good idea to drink more beer, mr...?"
"The Gold Lounge hidden, it's my place--I have wards up to keep humans out, most of the time anyway, there /are/ exceptions," Velvet grinned as he leaned over and tickled Tsinghua's cheek fleetingly, with his fingers, before withdrawing and clearing his throat, immediately back to business.
"Luckily the trip was brief, it took a bit out of me, but I've also been pretty good about absorbing energy lately, so," Velvet fills himself a glass of beer and tips back a bit, clearing his throat.
"Well, to be honest I kinda did, since you ran off, after you said you wanted to stay in that musty old mansion of yours alone, since you were afraid of hurting someone--and look where I found you--out beating people up like a yakuza," Velvet gets a little huffy there, it's true--he did /care/ about Sabrewulf, it would appear, but Sabrewulf also hadn't been listening to his encouragement and help at the time.
"And now you can't shapeshift, what're we going to do with you!" he gestures, sighing and fixing his hair back, trying to calm down.
"Sorry, sorry... got a little bit heated there," he shakes his head a little, gesturing to Tsing. "Eh, this beer is like juice for kids to him, you should see the stuff he drinks normally," he does lean over with a piece of beef jerky, holding it out for Sabrewulf to take in his snout, "Just make sure you eat some more of this--we don't do a lot of food here otherwise, alas," Vel seems casual, which is sort of odd, considering the bit of a rollercoaster of emotion he'd been on.
Two rugged fingers reach out to snag the piece of jerky. "It's true. I had suspected as much for some time as my work became more and more ineffective in helping me maintain my true self. I would say it has been, oh, hmm... A little over a year now. It was shortly after my first run-in with another lycanthrope, in France, as I recall. I think I knew. Then. I wanted to have a long walk alone and enjoy the beauty of the world on my own terms, maybe for the last time." Sabrewulf chews on the jerky. It's not the most 'polite' display of eating, but you can only do so much when your face and teeth are shaped like that. "The meeting did not go well. I was not well. I think it only served to crush my spirit more."
Claws clink against glass as Sabrewulf reaches out to pick up the beer pitcher and beer glass so that he can pour some. "It happened while I was in Central America. My...medicine did not work. There was trouble. I lost my bag and my papers. I haven't been home since." Nobody will have likely even noticed, so remote is the estate. Drinking is equally unsophisticated and not without spilling a bit down his front. A bottle was easier, with the whiskey, for at least that allowed a more direct pouring into the throat.
"As Tsinghua says, it's...just Sabrewulf now. I'm not comfortable with my first name in this...body. Not anymore." The chair the wolfman is in creaks as he shifts his weight and leans in forward more than his hunched form dictates. "This is embarrassing, but you have to understand I was only trying to make things safer for people. Like our young Gong noble here." A sidelong glance is given to Tsinghua. His eyes burn fiercely red in light, yet his expression is almost sad. "Still, thank you. Velvet Blue here has a knack for hauling me onto my feet. Or, well, out of a garbage bin this time." A hand quickly waves that idea away.
The boy does his best to listen, and keep up with the many things that are being said. Truth be told, he can't be a big part of this conversation. He doesn't know the history of these two, and is not in a position of giving advice. As such, he mostly sticks to listening intently while sipping his water, wincing back just a little bit when Velvet touches his cheek.
Still doesn't much like being touched.
The conversation heats up at Velvet's worried words. The messenger looks.. uncomfortable, just a little. "It- It certainly is not an ideal situation.." A simple comment, before giving Sabrewulf the chance to speak, turning his delicate features toward the werewolf.
And at his part of the story, Tsinghua looks saddened. "I am quite sorry to hear that, though it also seemed you have pushed through all of it. You are strong, mr. Sabrewulf." He sighs, as his mind goes back to their initial meeting. "And he speaks true, as I saw that strength firsthand. He saved me from a group of thugs with magnificent ease.. I would not know what would have happened had he not leapt in, you see." He finishes making his argument, though not before offering a important correction.
"And.. About that. I am not a noble, mr. Sabrewulf- I am one of their retainers. I serve the family as an envoy and messenger, that is my duty. I sincerely apologize for the confusion." He lowers his head in a slight, somewhat shameful bow. He apparently makes a big deal out of this. After all, a servant like him should not be compared to the Góng nobility, should he?
"You have to want to get better, Konrad, before we can help you, you see--it's a lot like substance abuse, we need to channel these urges you got, and find a way for you be able to shift back and forth at will," Velvet doesn't seem unamused when Sabrewulf just reaches up and takes the food from him--he /was/ going to feed it to him directly, as a way of being cute, but. He also seems to respect Wulf wanting to do things more like a person.
He frowns a little when he's corrected about the name. "Not comfortable, huh? Well it's not like there is anything to be ashamed about," Velvet leans back in the chair, apparently realizing what he was getting at but still didn't seem to like the taste of it. Velvet seemed more the type to want folks to accept themselves, like he'd done.
"Not the first dumpster I've hauled him out of, either... remind me, need to pick up some flea powder for him, maybe a shower too, before," he tossed back a bit more beer, leaving some lilac-colored lipstick on the edge of the glass. "Well now you're just full-on a werewolf and can't change back. On the upside, it'll be a lot easier to move you around in Europe, just need a car," he rubbed at his chin, already trying to form a plan. "Maybe a van, or something, that might help, tinted windows... I am not sure it's going to be easy to disguise you magically--you'd still be the same size, after all," pointing to himself. "Usually normies look at me and see how I would look normally without the ears and tail, but, it doesn't hide my size, or shape--I still need to be careful too, about mirrors, or phone cameras--they tend to distort when used on me, while I still have it up," he explains. "And it's quite alright, Tsinghua. When you're in my kingdom here, you can consider yourself one of my loyal, royal subjects," he reassured, but characteristically also teased the young one.
As a German noble, the structure of nobility is a little different, yet the mistake in misunderstanding Tsinhua's position is immediately recognized once pointed out. There are words that Konrad would like to share with the youth were his form differing and the timing better and were his head not in a fog from stress and alcohol. Something far more serious weighs on the wolf in the conversation. "I don't -want- to be able to change at a thought or have to use disguises. I. Don't. Want. This."
Perhaps a touch more growly at the subject than intended, the werewolf cools himself down a bit, too, with some beer...since it's right there. "The lycanthrope I met said something to the same effect, called me weak for wanting to cling to who I am, but I will not accept that there is something wrong with clinging to my humanity." A finger, deadly claw and all, points to the Chinese youth. "I cherish the good and beauty in humans. I am not this thing you see before you. This thing is, mmh, something else. Nobody else seems to understand how it feels, like my soul is poisoned by an evil with an identity and conscience of its own that is trying to take me over." There's something shaky about how this is said, as if even somehow speaking it threatens to draw extra attention from that dark presence. "Time and again others just say 'accept it'. Even the other lycanthrope did. Maybe not all lycanthropes feel the same way as Gallon did, but..."
A broad flat tongue licks wetly along the wolfman's nose and whiskers. It's a big one. Sabrewulf then pushes the beer aside and buries his head within crossed arms on the tabletop. "...I'm not like the others. I wish you could see that..." He doesn't sound as if he's crying or anything. He mostly just sounds incredibly tired and maybe a little disappointed. "...still, thanks for finding me. I have no way to get home and no safe place to rest..."
"Uhm.. certainly, Sirong." Now what would that make him- A prince?
But the story continues, and the boys falls silent again. Leaning back into the chair and taking in the words- Though then, he is talked to directly, and gets a little flustered and nervous. Slightly afraid even perhaps, at the somewhat growling tone. "O-Of couse not, mr. Sabrewulf. Your situation is truly terrible, and I too wish that you'd be able to return to your true form.." A large part of that opinion is him beeing agreeable, though also empathetic. "It doesn't sound like you should just 'accept it'. Though I will be the first to admit that I know scant, if nothing about this subject."
And then the wolf's head gets buried in the table. Tsinghua felt very bad, at that point. He is not in any position to offer useful assistance for the wolf. But he did give Velvet a sidelong glance as he spoke carefully. "M-Maybe you will have a safe place to rest, at least..?" Of course referring to the fact that Sabre can -maybe- stick around in the lounge for a little bit, but not outright stating it in an attempt to minimize the dissapointment of refusal. The boy isn't actually sure if that's possible, and if it's something Velvet will be okay with.
"Well, nobody really asks for what hand they're dealt in life," Velvet gestured to himself, with the ears, the fangs, the tail--the claws, as well, though clearly with the filing and polish they did look on point--"Myself included, but we must be willing to adapt. That said, if I could remove your lycanthropy myself, I'd do it," Velvet sighed, putting his hands flat down on the table. "I had wanted to be a actor, but my parents weren't into the idea, so I did it anyway--took loans and got a shitty job to pay my way while I took theater classes, was a bit before I got kidnapped--anyway, I basically didn't even wind up here by choice either. Most people just thought I owned this place, when the old owner took off I had to take it over, been doing that since--we all have things we have to learn to adapt to, but if you're wanting to just be called 'Sabrewulf', for now, well, that's what we'll do, I personally prefer your real name, but," Velvet shrugged and made a casually dismissive gesture of it. "You'll need to take on a lower profile, lest you attract attention, and we can't have that," he paused a bit as Tsinghua talked about a safe place.
"Oh, I'll find him someplace, might not be here, unless he can keep from going into a frenzy and tearing up the upholstry, that is," Vel spared a sly glance back at Sabrewulf as he drank from his glass.
The wolfman lifts his head just enough to rest his chin on his arms as they rest on the table rather than hiding his face behind them. He listens to what the others have to say even as the tiredness and glaze of alcohol holds in his glowing eyes. "I must sound selfish and cruel. I... I admit I do not understand the nature of your state. I do not know how it came to be or if it could be undone. Thing is, I -know- that my affliction can be cured. It's what my Clan used to do with the werewolves they hunted back in the days of the Holy Roman Empire."
Konrad sighs a bit and looks between those at the table with him. "And- I suppose you can still call me Konrad. But just- Just not around other people. As for low profile, that's part of the reason why, but you have to understand that I've been keeping a low profile for the past twenty-five years." The lycanthopy is not a new change to his life by any means. He's been keeping himself locked away for a long time trying to piece together a cure. "That's not saying I cannot, but sitting still has become increasingly difficult. On full moons, well, it's hard to keep my mind my own." Those are the most disturbing nights of each month. "But I've been trying to use these urges for something positive," he argues and gestures to Tsinghua with a hand, leaving it held out, palm up. "This young man is not the only person I've managed to save from danger on the streets. It may not be glorious, but- But-"
The werewolf sits up with what might be a concerned frown on his face. "I have to be selfish and complacent and hide for my whole life or accept my fate and actually get out and do something -- I can't have it both ways, can I? I know there are werewolf hunters out there. I know because I come from a Clan of them. I know the old ways. It gives me an advantage against those that might seek to come after me, but... It's probably not enough. So what can I do? I still have aristocratic connections I can call on so long as I don't need to meet in person. I have wealth. What are my options?"
He sounds like he's grasping for straws for any clues or facts or ideas that can help justify where fate has brought him; he sounds lost. Not stupid, just in over his head. This might be heavy material for the young man, but the questions are asked of him, too. Any ideas or insight have value. Doesn't have to be deep. Initial thoughts. He's stuck in Japan for now.
"I did not know Konrad was your name before this day, mr.. Konrad. In the interest of treating you like a man, and not a beast- That is how I would like to refer to you. Albeit in private, as you say."
After that somewhat lengthy comment, he quiets down again to listen to the adults speak. Sabrewulf, Mainly. Idly sipping his water as he sits in the chair, posture immaculate. Though between his thin lips, slips a subtle yawn: bringing one hand to his mouth. The Envoy decides to leave his response mainly to rhe final question he asked. While he has his sympathies for Konrad's complicated position, he has already expressed those feelings: No need to exemplify that further. "Well.. I am tempted to believe that finding someone to fly, or otherwise discretely transport you back to Germany is very possible: Assuming a hefty payment, I am quite certain"
"And in fact, that is possibly something I can assist with." The boy sighs, and leans slightly forward.
"Because I do know a lot of powerful induviduals. And at least a few of those live in Southtown. And of /those/, I know of one that is rather.. fond of me." Tsinghua frowns a little at that, not going into more detail. "And because of that, I think it likely that this man might be willing to reserve a pilot and one of his private jets for you, mr. Sabrewulf, at my request. Not for free, naturally. You would have to pay still, but the man would be willing to take the risk."
His head tilts to the side, as he smiles toward Konrad. "Consider it. I would like to properly repay you for saving me in that alley, you see." Another Yawn, heavier this time. "And.. If you feel inclined to refuse my offer in the interest of my own well-being, then please do not. I can take care of myself.. most of the time." The boy says that with somewhat cheeky wink, referencing the time that he indeed could -not- take care of himself. But that was on the streets, this would be more centered around diplomacy, which is the Messenger's strong suite.
"Yet, I have to apologize- I am feeling most tired. If you would permit me Sirong, may I excuse myself to the backroom? I am flying back to China early tomorrow. More duties to be done, I'm afraid." With the assumption that he'd be allowed to stay over, Tsinghua would stick around for a few more seconds to hear the last words, before taking the last sip of his water and leaving the scene with a polite bow.
"Wan'an, Sirong, mr. Sabrewulf."
"Well, you /did/ seem kind of reclusive, I admit--when I found you I'd heard rumors that there was someone living in an old mansion that was reputed to be connected to werewolves--well, it turned out to be true, but," Velvet shakes his head. "If we can do something to help you, we will--but for now, we gotta deal with your new shape," Velvet finishes the glass of beer, and does not refill it. It would appear now is not the time to get 'fucked up', as the coarser sorts might put it.
"I did hear about that, I have to give you my thanks for keeping this one out of trouble, trouble has a way of finding them, in my experience," Vel grins as he nods to Tsinghua. If it's not giant spiders or wind weasel women it's roughs going after him on the street, apparently!
"Tsinghua is right, we can figure out a way to ship you instead of flying you somewhere, get papers and transport you as a 'very large siberian wolf' or the like, perhaps, unless you want more privacy--then we'd have to arrange for a private flight back to Deutschland," Velvet is already trying to brainstorm ideas. "A van with tinted windows would probably also be a good idea, something big you can fit inside and be able to move around," he looks over at Tsinghua, gesturing affirmatively. "Oh right, yes, you must be tired, you can go nestle yourself on the sofa back there, by all means," Velvet apparently hadn't remembered that Tsinghua didn't stay up all night, like most of the 'creatures of the night' here did.
"In the meantime Konrad, you ever thought of going on stage at any point in your life?" Velvet leans closer on his elbows and grins at Sabrewulf, apparently getting /some/ kind of idea of what he can do for a few days.
The fuzziest of the three listens on with a heavy heart. Konrad makes a terrible businessman with those of the gang persuasion, it would seem. His track record of such encounters has not been pretty at the best and bloody gruesome at the worst. "Go rest up, ja? I'm glad to see you made it through your visit to Sunshine City in one piece." There's a pull on him to add something about meeting up again some other time, but it is countered by the worry that he's probably just a danger waiting to be; Sabrewulf remains silent on that while his ears droop. He really doesn't hold a very high opinion of himself.
Once Tsinghua has stepped away, Sabrewulf drains the rest of his beer (with minimal spillage) and elects to pour another. No sense in letting the contents of the pitcher go to waste. "So, then what? I get transportation home where I can go back into hiding forever? My work has lost effectiveness and I don't think there's more I can gain from the research my family left behind. I'm not- I'm not saying there's no use in what I have at home, but I need fresh perspective. Outside help." Konrad puts the pitcher down with a clunk and grabs his glass. Clawtips tink against the surface as fingers wrap around it.
"There are clues in my Clan's journal's that they did work with outside scholars. There must be people out there that know how to cure this... /This/." The noble drains half the glass before belching a little and wiping moisture from his muzzle with his other hand. "But I don't really know where to start looking and at least my hunting punks down on the street to protect the weak gave me some sense of purpose, so I...feel I...should..."
Sabrewulf leans back in his chair even as Velvet Blue leans in over the table with a very pointed question. "I, what?" He -can- play a piano/organ/harpsichord really really well, yet there's a sense of dread that makes the wolfman think that's not what this is about.
"You're going to have to go back at least to get your papers in order, then we're going to have to try and help find if there is anything that help better control your condition, and your feral urges, as it were," Velvet lets Sabrewulf have the rest of the pitcher of beer, he likely needs it more right now. "You can help with your finances so we can set you up some kind of base, so you can move around, and we'll help you find help, I think, is what we're going to do," Vel signs. "It's probably going to take a bit of work and searching, but," he gestures to Sabrewulf.
"Maybe you can help out with an act or two here if you're still able to play that organ like you were back at your place," Vel stares for a moment before correcting himself, "The musical kind, I mean, not really /that/ kind of club, this place," he laughs softly, rolling his eyes a little.
The humorous reference is not lost on Konrad. He may not be all that comfortable with his body on show -- he can barely stand to look at himself in a mirror -- but he's certainly not a prude. It's been a number of decades, but Konrad was a real party animal in his youth. "That I can answer for you already: Depressants. Downers. Barbiturates. Probably even opioids would work really well, but I'm by no means immune to addiction despite my sometimes impossible hardy constitution. As for playing..."
A weary stare from a heavy head turns to look over at the stage performance. There's no way in Hell he'd do anything like that, but he might be talked into playing an instrument. It's one of the few things aside from drugs that keeps him sedate. "Let me get some rest in a place without parasites or roaches and I'll let you know after I sleep on it. I'm not comfortable being in places like this. I'm not comfortable being /this/. But...playing music is something that is -me-. I just wish- I wish I had played my violin more when I was, mm, able. I simply don't have the hands for it anymore." The rest of the beer is finished in short time. "Please, make a tab for my consumption. I'm going to stay intoxicated here, at least first, and I'll repay you once I have access to my money again."
"Well of course we don't want you to do that and become dependant on stuff, that's the entire reason for trying to find someone to help you," Vel gives Sabrewulf a playful sort of 'really?' look at that. Like hell is Velvet paying for a painkiller addicted werewolf. He'd already been through one situation like that before with family. He's not doing it again.
"Sorry if it's not as baroque and gothic like you might normally prefer, being a German nobleman and all there--but yes, a shower, maybe something for you to wear, also--can do with that, you will probably also need something to eat and someplace to sleep..." the sofa in the back where Tsing was likely plunked down on was occupied, and too small anyway.
"You don't mind us making you a bed out of a refrigerator box and some blankets, do you?" he rose to his feet, the platformed heels clicking, offering a hand to the huge werewolf so he could rise from the table.
"Yeah don't worry about the drinks, we got you," the queen grins, tail lashing behind him. "I'm sure a few piano numbers will set us more than even, anyway, been a while since I could find someone decent to play it..."
Sabrewulf's jaw moves only very slightly up and down as he chews over the words given to him. There's a lot of weight to be had in what is being said from both sides. The beer pint is sat upon the table and a large clawed wolfmitt cups over the top before fingers drum in succession, each with a click of hard nail against clear glass. "You don't have to. You didn't have to. But you did." A hot exhalation of air streams from the werewolf's nostrils. "So. Danke vielmals. Thank you."
Konrad bites at his upper lip. As a human expression, it's not that notable. With a face like his, it probably looks goofy. "I don't know why, though." Those nails click a couple more times, then he finally lets go of it and reaches out a hand for what might normally just be a fairly masculine grip. He's clearly trying to mind his own strength as he does this. That arm alone is heavy as some of its heft comes to bear in the manual embrace. He may not be that tall, but he is bulky, dense.
Sabrewulf rises. "I don't want to learn about or even see more of this building yet. I want to sleep. Give me a quiet dark corner and I should be okay." Quiet might be difficult, but he may just pass out shortly anyway. Ever second he spends in the club he seems to grow ever more tired. Part of it might be the alcohol, but a lot of is simply the burden of his situation that he can't just run from now. Not in Japan. Not after his first exposure to modern day werewolves in the news, in that attack, in Japan. That was some time ago now, but it still burned into his brain. "After that? We'll see. I won't leave while I'm recovering from that beating I took. That's all I can promise right now. I hope that's good enough."
Log created on 17:20:28 08/31/2021 by Velvet Blue, and last modified on 01:58:24 09/04/2021.