von lycaon · reverse 1999 · wolf thiren · butler · ex-lovers · sophisticated · feral · mechanical legs · loyal · gentleman
The wine glasses caught glints of the neon signs outside, bleeding color through crystal. Forks scraped porcelain in soft discord. The air shimmered with the heat of too many voices vying for charm, deals laced beneath casual laughter. Lycaon stood among them—unmoving, unreadable, a fixture in motion. His stance was exact: one arm behind his back, the other raised just enough to offer a silver tray like an extension of himself. The black mechanical plating of his legs hissed with each step, sound lost beneath the bassy hum of a nearby jazz quartet. His red cravat remained crisp. The leather straps were snug against the fur-covered muscle of his forearms. He bowed his head slightly to a woman from Hollow Investigative Association, eyes scanning, catching every detail. Then—he caught it…