OOC: I don’t believe I had Myk leave the thread, I was just unavailable due to the time zone difference for the final flurry of bids, so I would like to continue as if he didn’t leave the area. Hope this is ok!
The white-haired man had always been terrible with money.
While he respected its application, understood its value in a society that put a label of worth on everything, he was pretty hopeless when it came to hoarding and saving
cash. There were other ways to acquire things after all, and Myk was creative in his attempts to extract the items that had value to him. Plus, he was also prone to changing his mind on what he wanted and cared about, and so didn’t mind having to let things go. It wasn’t that he was indifferent to material wants or gains – as a matter of fact, the Telepath had held quite the collection of eclectic desires over the years; from porcelain dolls, to clothing, vintage board games, books, musical items, thimbles, and more. He had filled countless vaults with these unusual treasures only to lose interest in them, forget about them, or donate to others as strange gifts or tokens of his favour.
What money he had acquired sat pretty in its own vault over the years, acquiring interest, and Myk was keen to splash it as frivolously as he could for his own amusement and/or because it would help others. That was why he’d been curious about the charity auction being hosted in the Necropolis and why he’d put an ultimate proposal of just over a quarter of a million Canadian dollars aside. He hadn’t wanted to spread himself too thinly by bidding on every single contestant tonight – also, that would be greedy – but when his sights had fallen upon the young Asian man on the platform, and the bidding war ramped up between himself and those few others, you couldn’t strip his attention away with hydrochloric acid.
He was in it for the glory of winning, for helping people because he could, because he was curious about this whole affair, was curious about the contestant, Yasu, and because he was rather bored.
It was always nice to be where the people were, and especially to be in the thick of it. Myk enjoyed meeting new people and reuniting with familiar faces. He would make a mental note to be more sociable with Dhara and Eirik in the future, but it was possible that such a note would be filed in the part of his brain that was often told to stop providing helpful suggestions. After all, you couldn’t be allowed to live an unrestricted and self-destructive lifestyle with these silly ideas of taking care of yourself, keeping in touch with people, and being open and honest! Not that his thought processes were always this self-aware – sometimes these things just happened, sometimes these things seemed to just slip by him, and despite any hindsight, he couldn’t always recover. After all, he’d already forgotten just what exactly he had
purchased for himself tonight.
At Amaranthia’s beckoning, pewter eyes flickered over to watch the signature procedure. The method was something he had not seen before, but with its subtle application of magic, he did wonder if this was a matter of formality or some ritual of true binding. And if it was the latter, what did that mean for the mortal? A level of responsibility stacked itself atop the Telepath’s considerations, not merely by the reminder to pay the bill, but to ensure that he helped Yasu commit to the contract and avoid whatever tribulations would befall him. Myk nodded to the tall, ebony-haired woman with a soft smile – a silent promise to complete his part of the deal when he had a chance to cross the street to the nearest bank. He even passed Dhara a small smile as she flitted about to pay her respects and collect a business card. Myk considered putting together a small hamper of hair products just to show there was nothing more than
playful spite on his end, but again, whether he would remember such a thing to follow through would remain to be seen.
As events were wrapping up, Myk approached the mortal to properly introduce himself. Yet, he didn’t offer a hand. Said paw was instead entwined with the other behind his back; his long, slender fingers forming a nest which was accented with cat-like silver nails. He leant forward slightly as if he were attempting to mirror the bow Yasu had given him, but stopped short. The action caused his platinum lengths to slip forward, hanging past his sharp features like a veil of spider silk. And as he was dressed all in black – a long-sleeved turtleneck paired with a laced bodice, skinny black jeans, and high-heeled ankle boots with steel spines – he made the very distinct impression that he was due to attend an extremely alternative wedding.
“Do you need a hand?” he offered, his voice purring up from his chest.
“I’m Myk, by the way.”