"You'd look so cute with a little more hair, though-- you could style it real nice then. Gel it back, you know? That'd look hot," he admitted with a curious tilt of his head, falling silent at the makeover he was inwardly given the other in his head. In truth, he thought Marcus was already perfect, but everyone could be improved. Hell, even he knew he could have a few tweaks here and there to make himself the best he could be.

"I like fashion, it's how Rene and I really bonded. I'm into that whole world, obviously. Look at me, I scream fashionable," he cooed happily, turning his wrist over to inspect the tattoo once again. In his eyes, it improved his image tenfold, though he wasn't entirely sure he'd get more - they hurt far more than he ever imagined they could. "I like makeup too-- again, it's hardly subtle. Rene's not so into that. I make him put eyeliner on sometimes, and some clear lipgloss if his lips hurt, but that's about it."
 
"See, I don't understand makeup in any way. It looks like it takes a lot of effort and only for temporary results. Like sure, you look stunning for a few hours but you have to take it all off at the end of the night just to apply it again in the morning. It isn't practical, you know?" He countered with a shrug. "Hey, since my hair grows so fast I'd be willing to let you try your hand at a trim, how does that sound? Like I said, I really don't care much about my appearance.

"You aren't putting eyeliner or lipgloss on me, that's where I draw the line. I'm sorry but I'm not the feminine type nor will I ever be. I prefer to be dirty and rowdy and... I dunno, masculine I guess? I'm not saying I'm super hungry to be this tough jerk but it's all I got," he teased before offering a grin and returning to the tattoo. "... it's almost over, by the way."
 
He knew the words didn't mean to offend. He'd only known Marcus a little while but he didn't cast him as the sort of person who delighted himself in attacking people he hardly knew, especially ones who were open and accepting of him like Sylvan was. Nevertheless, his lips did purse in frustration, breathing out slowly for several seconds in order to calm himself down, however unsubtle the action was.


"You don't think I'm stunning outside of makeup? I haven't got anything on but mascara right now, you don't think I look as good as I do with my full face of makeup on? I get that it alters my looks, I'm not that naive, but I like to think I'm just as beautiful without it. It makes me happy and it's how I put my creativity in practise, I don't see anything wrong with that," he replied, tapping his long nails on his other hand against the counter as another calming mechanism. Normally he wouldn't, given how gruelling the process was of having his nails manicured and painted, but it was either calm himself down or get riled up, and he much preferred the former.

"We all have different opinions, I suppose. I like this whole rugged thing you have going on; you don't like my self-expression. I suppose not everyone will," he snorted, mumbling to himself in his mothertongue to get his anger out. "...Hey, it's fine. I deal with a lot of bullies about it-- you're at least communicating how you feel without being a total ass about it."
 
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“No, I’m not saying that you look bad with or without makeup and I’m not saying you should stop, I’m saying that isn’t me,” he insisted, his grin faltering at the sudden accusation.

“Don’t you think that if I didn’t like it, I would have called you out on it? I’m just... ugh, I’m sorry,” he murmured before moving to simply focus back on the tattoo with pursed lips. “... seriously, I didn’t mean to do that.”
 
"I know that you didn't mean to, but that doesn't mean I'm not upset by it. I take a lot of shit from people for the way I look-- even without the makeup. Not many people like my species. We're not exactly cute and dainty," he replied with a small snort, to at least show he was trying to move past the tension. He didn't want someone who was mad or upset to be tattooing him, after all - he needed the man to be fully focused.

"I really like it, it's cute. Maybe it'll make people like me a little more?" He proposed playfully, knowing that a simple tattoo would hardly help the image he had. He was popular, he knew that, but he also knew people talked about him behind his back about the way he looked. A little tattoo wasn't going to change that.
 
“People will think you’re hip,” he reassured before leaning back to take in the finished tattoo, a small smile growing at the sight. We wasn’t a professional but it was even and pigmented so that’s what mattered.

“Look, you need to stop jumping immediately to aggression. Not everyone is after you, Sylvan,” he reminded quietly before deciding to clean up the supplies, tossing out the pin. “You look good, by the way.”
 
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"Of course I look good, there wasn't any doubt about that, was it? I look cute, nobody would dispute that. I just know they'd think I'd look cuter if I had two legs and a small body, that's all. My mother's philosophy on that is to fuck what everyone else thinks but that's hardly easy. Don't worry about it, I'm just being dramatic. I know I'm great," he reassured with an admiring glance over his tattoo. He knew Rene would probably yell at him if they were still friends, but he clearly had no issue with tattoos; he didn't think they were as bad as everyone else in the school seemed to believe.

"I won't tell people you gave me this, they'll only judge you more than they already do-- you should ignore them. Besides, you have my friendship, and that's all you really need. Saying that, I'm friends with a lot of people. If you decide you want to hang out with boys that are all rugged and tough, I could get you into that sort of group, no problem."
 
“Look, I’m not completely incompetent to where I cant make friends, Sylvan. Relax,” he insisted before pausing to smile. “Thank you, though, for offering. Like, Percival can go on about how much of a loner or weirdo I was back at our normal school but it would surprise him if I told him I have freeness outside of here.”

As he spoke, the werewolf moved to grab gauze and some tape to cover the tattoo properly. After all, Dylvan seemed like the type of person who would blame him for any mistakes so avoiding that whis iOS he for the better. “It’s fine, I know how to talk to people. I just do go up to anyone and introduce myself, though.”
 
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"You don't know what people are like in this school. It's all about appearances. I know I'm big on that too, but I only care how I look. I don't remotely care how others present themselves. Everyone else does, though. They'll judge you for something as simple as not having your hair styled to their liking. Having tattoos won't impress them," the drider reminded as he absently stared out the window, only breaking the gaze when realising that his words might come across as too harsh. They were the truth, but hearing the truth was never the easiest, and while Marcus didn't strike him as sensitive, he still wanted to soften the blow of his words a little.

"...But I'm sure you'll change their opinions. You're very charming. Most people will like you when they notice how cute you are. It's sad that they base an opinion on looks alone, but that's what they're like," he tutted, getting up from the ground with a small groan at how much the small space he had sat in had hurt his back. "Percy can have Rene, they're both jerks. As is Brennan. I don't mind, I get to have you as my friend, even if you won't even let me put a little eyeliner on you."
 
“It’s no different from any school, seriously. Sure, they might have a bit more invested in appearance but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” he reassured with a chuckle, though did pause to look at himself in the mirror at the scruff that already began to form despite shaving the day before.

“Yeah, your friends seem petty,” he admitted before tugging on a jacket. “... so where are you off to now? I mean, I’ve got nothing else to do. What’s fun around here? Do y’all have a pool? I’d love to go swimming, maybe. I don’t know. I’m just bummed that we’re pretty much forced into this place. I’d love to go out and hike or something.”
 
"Why can't we go for a hike? It's not really in the rules, but I often sneak out to visit my family - they only live twenty minutes away. I'm not against sneaking out now and then, I think it's necessary to break the rules sometimes. So of course we can go for a walk. The sky's so clear here, you can see all the stars, it's pretty amazing," he gushed, tearing his own attention from the mirror as he finished touching up the lipgloss he had applied. He didn't have any makeup on, having cried most of it off after the incident with Brennan, and he was surprisingly comfortable without it, but a little clear lipgloss was, in his eyes, a necessity if he was heading outside.

Even if it was approaching midnight and nobody was even going to see him.

"No, let's go and do that, I'd like to go for a walk outside with you," he smiled, reaching for his coat which was, as expected, completely unsubtle in its design. Wearing something bright pink really didn't bother him; nor did wearing anything colourful. It was at least an occasional talking point with friends. "Shall we get going? We'll have to use one of the secret exits to avoid the night guards-- it'll be easy, don't worry."
 
“Maybe I shouldn’t be trusting you...” he murmured with a smile as he tugged on his own leather jacket. Glancing briefly at the window, he noticed the state of the moon and his smile faltered a tad once realizing how close to the full status one. One more night, he figured, and sighed.

He was told to accept his lycanthropy and be proud but that didn’t mean the whole process wasn’t scary. Being forced naked in case you tore your clothes off and just... wait for it to happen wasn’t a pleasant experience, though he just told himself to keep quiet about it and instead mull it over internally. It wasn’t healthy but his father was never the one to explain healthy coping mechanisms anyway.

“Cool, yeah. Nothing too harsh, though, okay? I mostly want to know where I can fuck around tomorrow, get out all my energy,” he admitted with a laugh. “When I change, I get a bit rowdy.”
 
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"You know you aren't the only werewolf here, right? I've got a few friends who are like you and they manage to head out under a full moon and come back in the morning without that much trouble. Just remember to take a bag of clothes to change into, you don't want to come back to school naked-- I wouldn't mind that, obviously. I'd enjoy it, but other people aren't as open-minded as I am," the drider snorted, playfully winking at his new friend as he made his way from the dorm. Even if leaving school premises was against the rules (unless you physically needed to, like the werewolf students on a full moon), Sylvan made it clear that he wasn't afraid of the punishment if they were caught. He had sneaked out numerous times and even if a guard did catch him, he knew how to worm his way out of trouble.

"You'll be alright, I'm sure. Once it's over with, you have lots of time before the next one. If anything, you should feel sorry for me. I'm stuck like this for the rest of my life, it's not exactly easy being the way I am," he pointed out, cracking his knuckles with a small sigh. "I can't go swimming, I can't really move without pissing someone off because I've accidentally hit them-- it's a hassle."
 
“Yeah, but you’re tough. I mean, maybe not very good at handling pain but you’re clearly strong, so you could use that to get people to fear you,” he suggested with raised brows before locking the door behind him.

“I bet your dorm is huge,” he admitted with a dramatic sigh. “Meanwhile I’m stuck in a tiny walk-in closet. Must be nice being as influential as your mother is. See, my father isn’t even that well known. It’s my family as a collective that is, so I can’t bribe anyone to get nice things. I don’t need special treatment but that doesn’t mean it isn’t nice to be pampered every now and then,” he huffed, though shot a smile as he folded his arms.
 
"It has to be big. I'd consider it torture if they stuck me in a room like yours. Obviously, my mother's influence and our connections with Rene's family means I get a nice room, but still, it's really rather necessary. Although, I'm happy to share the benefits with you if you ever want to experience some luxury. I have this huge bath you're welcome to use at any time, I'm not selfish when it comes to my friends," he promised, choosing to ignore the comment about his pain tolerance. He would argue that he could withstand intense pain, overlooking how close to tears he had been when getting a simple (and very small) tattoo.

"I am tough, though not stupid. I won't be heading outside in freezing weather without adequate clothing. I can't afford to get sick," he mumbled whilst pulling on the matching hat, scarf and gloves, making the caveat before the other attacked his toughness anymore. He was tough, he would gladly insist upon that, but he wasn't going to prove that by heading outside into the snow and the wind without the right clothing. His mother had always taught him better than that.

"You should come and see my room after our walk, if you'd like? I'd love to show you it-- I have it decorated to perfection. Rene helped when I first got here, and he's pretty good with the whole design thing, so it's... it's cute, I think. You can see it another time if you're not up for it, I... can be bossy, I guess."
 
“... You’re really bundling up there, aren’t you?” He commented, choosing to ignore the mention of Rene. A part of him was beginning to feel guilty for poking at the strained relationship betwee him and Sylvan when seeing that the drider was clearly upset, even if he didn’t express it. He’d babble on for hours on how he knew he was an empath and just had the skills to tell those sort of emotion, though chose to keep quiet.

“See, I get hot flashes a lot. Some days I feel better just standing out on a snowy day in just my boxers. My father says it’s because of our heritage and that we weren’t meant to wear clothes or something but I highly doubt it wouod he okay for me to just walk around in only boxers, even with how liberal this place is rocky accommodation,” he murmured, taking in his bare hand before glancing at Sylvan’s covered once, shrugging.
 
"I don't think I'd like that-- getting too hot, I mean. I like bundling up in warm clothes and snuggling up with someone by the fireplace. Besides, I don't do well with heat, it makes my hair go frizzy and my makeup runs and-- it's just a mess," he grumbled dramatically, even though the sight of the snow outside didn't make him all that happy either. He had lived in the mountains his whole life and he knew he ought to have acclimatised to the cold weather by now, but he hadn't; he hated it, in fact - but he didn't mind bracing the weather at midnight if it meant getting closer to the werewolf.

He regretted the decision the moment he actually stepped outside, though not because the weather was too ferocious. It was bad, but didn't make him feel as bad as the sight of Brennan made him. Students were prohibited from going walkabout, but the vampires often had permission to do so for reasons Sylvan refused to understand... especially now he came face to face with his now ex-boyfriend who he (quite rightly) hated.

"...You moved on pretty fucking quick, didn't you?" Brennan scoffed as he tossed an empty blood pack aside, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He had no reason to be angry with Sylvan -the drider hadn't cheated like he had- but, to save himself from looking emotional or apologetic, especially in front of Marcus, he immediately chose to act indifferent and casual, as though he wasn't regretting every decision he had recently made. It was difficult to do that when he thought the drider looked adorable at the moment, but Brennan had an exceptional talent at pretending to be one way whilst feeling another.

"What are you doing out here at this time anyway?" He continued flatly, his arms folding across his chest. "Taking the dog for a walk? That's cute--"

"And that's rude. What I'm doing is none of your business. Marcus is a friend and we're taking a walk. I can see in the dark and I grew up on these mountains. We're not going to wander off the top of them," remarked Sylvan with a roll of his eyes, grabbing Marcus' hand in an attempt to hurry out of the situation. "...Ignore him, he's trying to get a reaction, Marcus. It's childish but that's what he's like."
 
“Who the fuck you calling a dog?” Marcus (literally) growled, his sharp fangs making an appearance as he did. He wasn’t one to deny a physical fight, especially since he knew he’d easily win against a pathetic vampire. Adjusting his shoulders, he was only stopped from storming up to the other by Sylvan’s hand which, reluctantly, reminded him to back off.

“I’m a dog? You’re the one who decides to drop someone at thd flip of a coin because you’re some fuckin’ slut,” he critiques rather harshly. If he wasn’t able to physically fight Brennan, he would at least fight with words. “You’re a bloody cunt for you to have the audacity to say Sylvan ‘moves on too quickly’, y’know That? Are you really that fuckin’ indecisive that you get angry when seeing your ex on a stroll with someone who clearly cares more about him? You fuckin’ disgust me.”
 
"I disgust you because I'm a vampire, first and foremost. If I didn't disgust you, there'd be something seriously wrong with you. That said, you are a filthy mutt so there's clearly a lot wrong with you anyway." Brennan retorted flatly, disregarding the clear threat that Marcus posed with another roll of his eyes. Even though he had gone through some changes over the summer, his confidence had always been high. He had no problem defending himself against someone twice his size if need be, and he certainly had no issue defending himself against a werewolf, of all people. Especially one that was holding his ex's hand and claiming to care more about him. That only pissed Brennan off, even if he had no real right to be upset after his actions.

"You've known him all of, what? Seven, eight hours? I've known him since we were 13. I don't think you care more about him. I did some stupid stuff but I still care about him. Even if he wants to move on, I want him to move on with someone who's at least... decent. You werewolves are all so... uncouth, hm? You can't string a sentence together without growling and swearing, it's awfully common," the vampire continued, presenting his superiority without regret. In fact, he smirked in satisfaction at the stark differences between him and Marcus, believing that he was on the more agreeable side. "Relax, dude. You're so temperamental, aren't you? But I've heard that's typical for mongrels like you, I wouldn't expect you to change that behaviour."
 
Uncouth?!” He snapped, his face beetroot before deciding to easily grab the vampires collar, holding him up by it. “You want to call me uncouth?! I don’t cheat on my goddamn boyfriend until you elitist, blood sucking trash!” He barked before harshly throwing the other on the ground with as much strength he could muster.

“Fuck you. I came her to avoid drama and you just gotta bring shit up, don’t you? You fucking bottom-feeders just thrive off drama. You know what? Fuck you. I’m going to bed, I don’t need this shit. You’re disgusting,” he grumbled towards Brennan before glancing over at Sylvan. “Let’s go back inside.”