His name is Reginald Bryant Straaf, but he's known as Reg. He'll respond to Reghan as well, used to being called that in error. He is a dandy, a rogue, a gentleman, a bit of a letch, enormously vain, intelligent, witty, has the body of a god and knows it. He is my brother, my twin.
He works only seldomly, preferring to let me do most of the work, though he quite happily spends my money on new clothes and toys for himself. Like most women who encounter Reg, I indulge him without much of a second thought. Because of this, Reg is almost always impeccably turned out, elegant and dashing with his fine clothing and luxuriously soft and long ebon hair. He lives on the same property as me, but recently acquired his own space up in the air that he can decorate to his liking. I can only take so much of seeing his rugs scattered around.
For some reason that many people, including me, can't seem to figure out, Reg is hard to resist, despite being enormously vain, and despite his somewhat suggestive talk, his libido, and his obvious lack of desire to make an honest woman out of anybody. He can whisper a lady to mush, melt formidable ice queens (as long as he's interested in them), and knows how to hold a lady in his arms while dancing with her so that she wants the dance to continue even when the music has stopped. Yet despite all that, he truly means his compliments and truly enjoys his companions. Women to him are a feast for the eyes and a fine liquor to his senses.
It doesn't stop with women; Reg's appetites are insatiable, and he is attracted to men as well. Humans, nekos, furries...as long as they're well presented, offer intelligent conversation and a sense of humour, aren't unkind or sarcastic, he's likely interested.
Reg can be found at dances more often than me, for he is truly the social butterfly whereas I am more reserved. Because we are never seen together, it adds to the speculation that Reg and I are the same purrson. Are we?
One of life's mysteries, indeed, but a fun one. Fun for us, anyways.