[In some courts, the Primogens are mere puppets of their Prince. Chicago is more open than such a despotic structure, and Charlie enjoys the slackened leash around his neck as well. But he makes no mistake, there is a collar on them both. Miraj's is just fancier.

Maybe that should make this place's blatant tugging on their strings a little less jarring - but it doesn't.

Because Charlie usually doesn't mind the security and comfort his domestication brings. Usually it doesn't come with the knowledge that he's being somehow digested by an inter-planar entity.

Still kneeling at Mirajs's level, his face scrunches, the moment of frustration passing as soon as the man answers.] Well that-

First of all, some people would be offended if you told them that.

-but that was probably the damn problem. I told you! It's a two person game.

Normally, the house doesn't mind one guy just watchin' with wanderin' thoughts while the other guy enjoys himself. [Speaking firmly from experience.] This time, you're a 'God'!

If you can think about someone else, I'm not doin' my job right. [Petulantly, he lets his forehead thud against the arm of the chaise. Miraj is levied with an expectant look, as if Charlie expects some kind of instruction for success.] The kiss feels good. Do you like it better when things don't? [His guess is a half-hearted one, probing for preferences from someone who doesn't want to be here any more than he does.

A belabored group project, the Ventrue Starts Coordinating.]