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Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by TragicTrees, May 17, 2016.

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    Owen Ugene Ross was a prick. A rich, handsome prick, granted, but that didn't change the fact that people would much rather him not talk to them, if they had any semblance of common sense. And it wasn't like he didn't know it, either. He knew it well. How he carried himself around proved it, as well as how he treated everyone. That included his pet.

    Now, at pet, most would think like a bird, or maybe a pet dog. That would be wrong. Instead, in this day and age, werewolves were the new thing. And, if it was popular, Owen was in on it. So, he had gotten one. Actually, he had gotten it yesterday. He was currently forcing it(he didn't know it's name, so he had been calling it 'wolf' for the past few hours) to sleep in his room, on the floor. Owen's room was easily large enough to fit two beds, or at least some pillows, but he just didn't appear to care. Besides, the creature hadn't done anything as of yet to show it cared about that.

    Right now, the rich man was laying on his bed, comfortably dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. Since he wasn't going out, he didn't have to look presentable. On the side table was a batch of food he had gotten the servants to bring in, and in his hands was a book. He had left 'wolf' to do whatever it please-in the room, of course- and had told it such a few seconds ago, after throwing sweatpants and a t-shirt at it. He had also warned it not to do anything destructive, though. Hopefully it would heed that advice.
  2. Klausen hated being treated like this. No, not the house that he lived in - He quite liked the house. He just hated having to act like a dog. A dog that slept on the floor of this man's luxurious bedroom. There was obviously some room to put a blanket and pillows - Hell, even a dog bed, if he was going to shoot for the stars - But of course, Owen was being an ass...Like usual. It didn't surprise the poor thing, honestly. He had already gotten used to that aspect of the other man.

    Now, he wouldn't have to worry about Klaus becoming destructive - In fact, he didn't have to worry about him doing much of anything, really. He would abide by the rules, lay on the hard floor, and sleep like a baby until he was ordered to do more. Of course the werewolf had a name, but he was told not to speak unless spoken to, so he kept his mouth shut on that part.

    ANYTHING would be better than 'wolf'.

    With a yawn, the German stretched out on the floor, getting as comfortable ( but how comfortable could one get on the floor? ) as he could. A few seconds later, however, his stomach rumbled, the smell of food wafting into his nostrils. "Mmm...I'm hungry..." He had apparently forgotten one of the rules already, still not used to this kind of treatment.
  3. There was a pause, before Klausen got lightly hit over the head with the hard-covered book. Owen sighed afterwards, setting the thing aside and stretching a bit. He supposed he did have to feed the creature, didn't he? Living things needed food, and if he wanted to keep it alive, he would have to also. He couldn't do anything about that, now could he? It's just the way things worked. So, he didn't really mind 'wolf' announcing it, because at least that gave him a clue as to what the creature needed.

    He shifted so that his legs were hanging off the bed, and looked down at the other "Well, I suppose you can have some of this. I'm not eating it anyway, and my mother would scowl down at me if I wasted it all." He replied flippantly. His mother, who he didn't live with, mind you, would probably hear if he wasted ANYTHING in this house. She seemed to have eyes everywhere. It disturbed him a bit, but he had slowly gotten used to it after a year of living on his own.

    "So, you can eat that. But don't be a slob, I like this place neat, as well as YOU." He added after a moment, before going back into a laying position on the bed.
  4. The boy whimpered as he felt the hard backed book slam on top of his head, pale hand reaching up to gingerly tousle his hair and rub at his now sore scalp.

    "You do realize you're talking to a German, right? Ve are ze kings und queens of etiquette und manners..." He couldn't help it, but once again his stomach grumbled noisily, knowing full well it was about to eat. And as if that wasn't enough, his mouth started to ache, saliva filling up the oral cavity. "Besides, it's a good zing zat you vant me to eat it instead of you just wasting it...I know your type very vell..." Klaus reached out to grab the plate, scooping a large spoonful into his mouth and gulping it down.

    Though the bite was large, the werewolf was able to scoop it in gracefully and without any problems. It was amazing, really, how his chipmunk cheeks held the food - Someone that skinny shouldn't be able to stuff away food like that, but damn was he good at it. Maybe that would impress his master. If not, eh - He didn't care one way or the other, just as long as he could eat in peace. After gulping a few more bites down, he went to stand up, knees hurting from sitting on the floor like he was. "Mmm...Vhen are you going to get a bed for me? You know, ze floor isn't exactly soft...It's quite hard down here..."
  5. "Now you're getting demanding. You've been here, what? A day?" The man grumbled, stretching out on the bed "Maybe I'll get you a rug or something, I don't know. Not a bed yet, I don't know how much you deserve that yet. Rug first. Maybe a few pillows. Then later, a bed."

    Owen did have to admit, it was nice to have company. The house felt a bit empty; his sister visited sometimes, but that was about it. So, in turn, he was lonely. Even with this, though, he wasn't about to be polite to the dog. He didn't NEED to. It was his pet, after all; one that could talk, but one all the same. Parrots could talk too, and they didn't suddenly have the rights of a human. So, it made sense to him.

    His sister, Marie, would probably have a fit, though. She was all about helping the poor and getting animals 'good homes' and all that. She always did volunteer work, and berated him if he ever said anything that could offend someone. That was exactly the reason he hadn't told her about this yet. Sure, she'd find out soon, but he could at least hold it off for a bit and spare himself the early look of disappointment.
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