He barely heard her come into the living room, and he knew for a fact he couldn’t smell her with all the shit that was around them. If there was a  negative to this holiday it was the fact that the scents messed with him so much it out him in such a sour mood that even the children in the clinic could notice it. Peeking up at her with one tired eye, Liam attempted a failed smirk at her. She’d understand his appreciation he hoped as he shuffled upwards to shake the towel through his hair. Snuffling a bit from behind the think fabric, Liam could hear her starting to speak again, dropping the towel a bit so he could hear her just a bit better. But when the words finally hit him, it was like he attempted to hide in the towel once more, wild hair peeking out instead of his annoyance. Why today? Of all the days this woman could’ve brought this up it had to be tonight. He was too tired to fight, to tired to even care. Liam could feel the rage bubbling like a luke warm kettle under his skin. Not enough to explode, but enough to show up on his face when he finally decided to look at her.

She flinched at his words, not thinking about how odd that was for her. Normally she would puff up, refuse to let him be alpha over her. But for once her eyes were beginning to water up in front of him, the first hot tear streaking down her cheeks felt like a slap to the face. Was she really that easy to throw away? That he could just tell her to get out? She had put thought into this, into wanting him to be happy, because he never seemed to be happy with her, and his reaction was to tell her to leave. Her shoulders shook slightly as the tears continued to fall. This was not who she was, not in the slightest and usually she would question that fact, she would try to understand why she was whimpering and crying simply because Liam wanted to act like the big bad wolf. But for now it was too late and she was trying to wipe away her tears with the sleeves of her shirt. “I’m not being petulant, I just want to know that I make you happy. Do you even want to be with me? You just seem to hate everything I do,” She forced the words out, voice quivering in a way she hadn’t heard since she was a little girl stumbling around behind her father’s tail. “I don’t want a pity party, I want you to be with someone who makes you happy and you just seem unhappy with everything that I do,”

He could feel the venom bubbling and foaming in his throat. There wasn’t a prayer she could have in this world that could save her from this fight she wanted to apparently start. But something stopped him cold in his tracks, the blood and the bubbles rushing away from his head. From red to white, his vision was clear, and his hands fell limp to his side. Turning around on his heel, Liam looked at the woman with confusion. This wasn’t right, but he knew somewhere deep in his gut he was right. The smell, it was the smell. He couldn’t have noticed it before, there was no way with all the damn candles, and decorations. But walking past her...there was no way to miss it. His face paled, ocean blue eyes looking at her with disbelief, even distrust. Was she not going to tell him...Was it even his? He snuffed that thought out before the anger bubbled back into his head as he looked at her, brows knitting with concern.

Maverick watched the billowy woman leave, wondering again whether it was a rouse or not. No-one could really be that…happy all the time, there was no way. Snapping back for a second as Miss Hunt started to speak, Maverick collected himself as she strode off with all the finesse of a big cat and began following her like a new pup in the pack. He never liked the feeling of being new, of knowing everyone was going to treat him with a certain level of disdain because he would have to ask questions, that he would need to be shown the ropes, and that he was fresh meat in the zoo that was business. He watched her walk, hips swaying and heels clicking determinedly. She had confidence dripping from every pore, but even that was a mistake on her end. No-one in a position of power should over exert it, it would cause mutiny at some point, no matter how high on the social and business ladder one climbed. There was always someone on a lower rung who’d trip you without a second thought, but if someone was more relatable, well then, they’d be less inclined to take out the rung from beneath you. 

Nodding easily along with his words, paying attention without paying attention was a fine art that she had learned when she was a student in NYU. A slight smirk crossing her lips at the mention of her Alma Mater. An odd sense of pride always surrounded the institution for her, stained as it was from memories of Dion, although that was not a thought that could cloud her vision in a work environment, oh no. “It’s good to see someone from my Alma Mater doing well,” She admitted with a slight approving nod, as if he was in some sort of special club. But wasn’t that how universities were treated in these arenas? Like special clubs that people were lucky to have gotten into. “I trust you know your responsibilities, along with the boring details that go along with any other internship, coffee fetching, call taking, the works, I’ll expect input in layouts, in how things are run. Whether that input is taken to heart depends on it’s quality,” She spoke smoothly, as if this was a speech she’d given a thousand times, he was her first intern. She’d always made it clear that she had no interest in having one. Once her day was over Tasha would find out just how he had slipped in under her radar.

It wasn’t much to take in, and he knew the tasks already. He had seen movies and televisions shows on them, and horror stories from other classmates who had done them during school instead of after like him. Maverick was sure he had this. Besides, what was the worse she could dish out to him? Telling him some extreme Starbucks order that he could only half remember when he got chocked up on the line with a million angry New Yorker’s behind him? No sweat, he hoped. Nodding briskly, icy eyes sharp and ready for the worst Maverick asserted what little dominance he had. “I am sure I won’t let you down, Miss Hunt,” he said with a slightly tern voice. He didn’t know when you stand, or if he should wait on her...or if he was supposed to jump into work just then and there. 

Aussie tried as hard as he could not to laugh out as loud as he wished to. Marnie was funny, a woman with a good sense of humor after what had happened to her. He dare say that it was interesting when she came into the picture following after Lyle, a sour look on her face. He dear husband messed up the circle, and that was always what annoyed her the most about her death. The sheer idiocy of the man rather than the gall he had to kill her is his lapsed state of judgement. If he were in her shoes though Aussie figured he’d feel about the same. He was a droll perfectionist in life, and if something concerning his death with imperfect well, let’s just say he’d be just as sour as his fellow ginger. His green-blue hues landed on her as she spoke, seeing her sip her drink. She was bold, he would never place that junk hear his lips, annoyed at this job or not. He wondered vaguely how she would fair in his era, if she could handle the grain. But something inside him said she could, and he would’ve faired better than even himself. 

She scoffed softly at the mention of Lyle. The blonde monstrosity that was their boss. He was a good man, awkward in all of his shows of emotion as if death took away all of his tact. She could still recall him looking over her corpse with a confused sort of wonderment, commenting that Jesse had been off with a single line in his runes. He’d laughed while she’d fumed, wondering vaguely if Jesse could have possibly summoned anything in all reality. Maybe, had been his only reply. “I wouldn’t be the first reaper to snap and start taking casualties I’m sure,” She mumbled, loud enough for only Austin to hear. The last thing she needed was for a human to wander up to her asking questions about things that they need not know. That would really cause the ginger to snap. “It’s more a matter of how than when, really,” She spoke with a slight shrug. It was always something of great curiosity, wondering when the foolish human would show up assuming that they’ll live forever only to be ousted rather spectacularly. The new girl was a front runner for best death. A space toilet to the face, she’d be the front runner for a while in Marnie’s book.

Looking in the direction of the pair of idiots, even Austin became hopeful that maybe, just maybe, something would happen to shorten this affair. But by the looks of it, that wasn’t the case. With no gravelings in sight, it would be hard to imagine this boy in any sort of mortal danger. Sighing a bit, Austin shrugged, letting his partner know he was as discontented as she looked. And for good reason too. He was growing too bored of this party, and honestly he would have been alright with any of these sorry excuses for humans dying right here and now. Looking at his watch, it seemed close enough to the time, or so he hoped for whomever this person was to die already. But he knew they would have to find them first, saving their souls and all. It was a tricky business, but rules were rules and he needed to follow them to move on. Quota and all.

The pair of them were cute if cute was the right word to use for them. Well dressed, obviously affluent, and very different than the cut of the people in this place. She was well dressed, young, and a new mother, and he was a bright-eyed boy intrigued with everything that moved with caution and shyness. So yes, Jean could say cute was an appropriate word to describe them. But it was a novelty for him to actually speak French with someone, and he silently hoped this wouldn’t be their last encounter, but that was awfully odd of him to want or think, seeing as their age was written on their faces respectively. He was a crotchety old man compared to the two, and they were probably just passer-bys. It didn’t upset him, but he would definitely need to get friends after today if these were the thoughts he was having just running into two new people. Nodding a bit in politeness, the little boy spoke again, a little squeak compared to his mother. But she was a squeak as well as far as he was concerned. 

She didn’t bother to push back the giggle that came forth watching the man interact with her son. Maybe it was the homesick feeling of hearing French, or perhaps it was because Claude still hid behind her just slightly. She didn’t feel overly inclined to worry about this man speaking to her son. Granted it may possibly be different if she were asked to leave the pair of them alone together for an extended period of time. If only because she didn’t know the man beyond he had a beautiful face, and spoke French. “Katherine , appelez-moi Kitty,” She introduced smoothly, wondering distantly if her name would be familiar to him. She was a popular enough model in the states, more so in Europe. It had always been easier to work in Europe, Manny whined so much less when he was able to keep a close eye on her. His pretty Kitty couldn’t wander to far off from him and get into trouble. He had good intentions, she understood that, which was why she put up with it. Until he stopped showing up for dinner because he was too busy in the recording studio. If her work was at his beck and call, his work was at hers. And that was just one of the pettier fights.

Chuckling a bit, enjoying the way the innocence just rolled off the boy, Jean-Luc nodded the apology away, looking at the boy with earnest eyes. “Well, my French is from a small part of France, and maybe it’s just how we were taught,” he said, finally finding his English tongue. He didn’t want to impose on speaking French all the time, assuming they were fluent like him. Maybe they spoke a sub-classed French, from Belgium, or even Haiti. They had the complexion for either. But then again he didn’t want to assume, again. Running a hand through his hair, Jean smiled apologetically. “I didn’t mean to take up so much of you time, I just haven’t met a French speaking person in a while. Felt like home a little,” he rattled on, knowing how stupid he seemed. And honestly he didn’t mean to take up so much of their time. It was quite rude of him, and he could hear his mother screeching in the back of his head. 

Alaistair was startled just a bit by how quickly and quietly he appeared. Lyle was a larger man, but shit did he move like some big cat stalking prey. Part of his was glad he wasn’t drinking, or else he would’ve sputtered out his drink. Looking at the man with anxious icy eyes, Alaistair listened to the words the poor kid rambled out with his croaky voice. He smelled of sadness and cigarettes. and that made Alaistair feel a little guilty. It wasn’t that he should, they were both grown men, and he was sure he wasn’t playing with the kid’s emotions, but the way he looked right now looked worse than some of his groupies when he had to leave in the morning. And for that Alaistair felt bad, because those women seemed to have their shit together better than Lyle did in this moment. Maybe this was a mistake, messing with some poet type. He was so emotion driven it was making it hard to be mutual with him. 

He could feel the flicker of a smile across his lips at the feeble defense placed before him. He was his mother’s son in the worst of ways, he had to cut it open, couldn’t leave it out in the air to dry. “Not just any hole then? C'mon man we’ve both seen the morning afters of the groupies you bring home, besides, you’ve been fucking your best friends little brother for almost a month now. That spells any hole,” He spoke with a shrug and a smirk that settled perfectly across his features. It was all he had going for him really. Mike had his stupid boyish grin that always got him out of trouble whereas Lyle had a smirk that could make women swoon, which was only entertaining if he was interested in any of them. Which very rarely happened. But he’d been bottoming, that never happened, maybe experimenting in what was even rarer for him wouldn’t be a bad idea over the next few weeks. He was acting over emotional and women always seemed to lap that up. Idiots wanting the most romantic man in the world, wanting their books to come alive in the streets. It was laughable in most cases.

Alaistair stiffened. He didn’t expect this kind of reaction to come out of the kid, and it was slowly turning his annoyance into aggitation. Part of him wanted to leave, see if someone else will have him for the night. Icy eyes landed on the kid, never mind trying to avoid his snappy words now. His face was hard, and he didn’t know if he came across as too cold or uncaring, but he didn’t seem to care anymore. He didn’t like how Lyle was just assuming, making judgement calls on his character as if he really knew Alaistair. He didn’t. If anyone knew the confusing rocker, it was Mike, and even Mike could see that this was a difficult choice for Alaistair to make. And not because he was indecisive or cruel, but because he really honestly cared...and it confused him, a lot. Running a hand along his chin, he sighed, as if the sigh was supposed to make it easier to release his annoyance. 

It was almost instantaneous how her opinion changed of Axel the moment he actually opened his mouth at her. The level of mystery he held vanished and he became another face in the crowd. He wasn’t as smart as she had hoped, or as intellectual, but then again there lay the flaw in her logic; she hoped something out of someone who wasn’t capable, and she let herself down more than the actual being itself. Her forest green’s never took themselves off the other brother. He looked clam, but there was a storm brewing under his skin, under his dead eyes, and under all the hair atop his head. And that in itself made Riley intrigued again with the pair. She wondered how brothers like this came to be, how two very different people could occupy the same household, let alone the same parents. Blinking a bit, tilting her head to the side as if she were looking at the most fantastical of creatures, Riley continued to talk absent-mindedly to Axel as he spoke to her, never forgetting her manners. 

He could feel his brother’s pout long before he saw it, used to watching others. It was how he’d made it this far in life, Axel was erratic, but Psymon had him down to a science. He could see right through his siblings bravado and into the mania that filled his mind, grasping at straws to deny the life he had seen thus far. Then again was Psymon better off? Staying silent, allowing the world to happen to him and snapping when he saw fit. “Þú stalst verðlaun minn,” The older Valentine whined, receiving nothing but a shrug for his efforts. The blonde before them wasn’t a prize, she was a witch. One who seemed different from the other thoughtless girls Psymon had encountered. Then again she was still someone demanding his attention, why not? He had nothing better to do and she was attractive. Maybe in the time he’d begin to understand why her gaze felt different. That or he’d just do his best to scare away that gaze. Terror was easy to instill in most women. His childhood had taught him that at the very least. His mother’s lunatic screams still haunted him to an extent, something that lived in his dreams. Her pained screams, at least until she snapped, it was all laughter after that. “Sterkur heppni,” was all that he cared to offer up to his sibling as he broke away.

Part of her was enthusiastic, and she knew she shouldn’t have been because it would create expectations, and those were never good things to have about someone when you were a Rothschild. Following the boy, trying not to let any emotion show on her face, Riley walked silently next to him. She didn’t want to be annoying or anything, and the last thing she wanted to do was show interest in the boy. Blonde curls bouncing along with the rhythm of her walk, her shoes clicked along the old stone as she followed him out. It was a lovely fall day, a little nippy for her, but she also wasn’t one to complain about it either. She could tell he wasn’t a man of many words, prior to their conversation, if she could even call it that, she didn’t know he could even speak at all. 

Michael would have barged in the room by now whining about some sort of stray dish that had been left in the sink, some small detail that only his brother could have possibly found. There was once a DeLuca, he was a deranged Martha Stewart homo, he’s dead now. It had to be Alaistair, the person he was praying it wouldn’t be. Alaistair would surely be the death of him, that much was for goddamned sure. Standing up he took in a deep breath, he’d been raised by Maris fucking DeLuca, a hell hound in the flesh. If he could deal with that psychotic bitch hounding him day in and day out, he could end a friends with benefits relationship with his brother’s best friend. He just wanted to know how he wound up in such a strange, fucked up situation. Mike would have a ball laughing about it all someday.

Alaistair was startled just a bit by how quickly and quietly he appeared. Lyle was a larger man, but shit did he move like some big cat stalking prey. Part of his was glad he wasn’t drinking, or else he would’ve sputtered out his drink. Looking at the man with anxious icy eyes, Alaistair listened to the words the poor kid rambled out with his croaky voice. He smelled of sadness and cigarettes. and that made Alaistair feel a little guilty. It wasn’t that he should, they were both grown men, and he was sure he wasn’t playing with the kid’s emotions, but the way he looked right now looked worse than some of his groupies when he had to leave in the morning. And for that Alaistair felt bad, because those women seemed to have their shit together better than Lyle did in this moment. Maybe this was a mistake, messing with some poet type. He was so emotion driven it was making it hard to be mutual with him. 

That was just about the last thing Kitty expected to hear. She’d gotten so used  to hearing nothing but English in the States, hearing French almost felt like home. Which was only slightly odd because she’d been raised speaking English. Perhaps she’d been in Haiti for too long, looking to it as a getaway from fame while she raised her son, even in the wealthy neighborhoods. But before she could respond she saw the glee light up across Jean-Claude’s face, he hadn’t heard a single person speaking French other than his mother from the day they’d arrived. Clearly excited to speak his native tongue, that which came easiest to the young boy he darted back to his mother’s side, almost shaking with his excitement. “Non, non. Tel est le nom de mon fils . Je suis désolé,” She spoke with a laugh shaking her head, long curls swaying easily. Now if she could only find someone who spoke fluent Spanish and didn’t question her lisp she’d be in business. “Jean- Claude , dire bonjour,” The model directed glancing down to the boy who still seemed to be vibrating with excitement, it was like a burst of home all at once. She knew the breakup had been tough on him, as amicably as they had tried to do it all, he missed his father, he missed his home. If speaking to a stranger in a grocery store for only a few minutes would cheer the boy up Kitty was happy to comply.

The pair of them were cute if cute was the right word to use for them. Well dressed, obviously affluent, and very different than the cut of the people in this place. She was well dressed, young, and a new mother, and he was a bright-eyed boy intrigued with everything that moved with caution and shyness. So yes, Jean could say cute was an appropriate word to describe them. But it was a novelty for him to actually speak French with someone, and he silently hoped this wouldn’t be their last encounter, but that was awfully odd of him to want or think, seeing as their age was written on their faces respectively. He was a crotchety old man compared to the two, and they were probably just passer-bys. It didn’t upset him, but he would definitely need to get friends after today if these were the thoughts he was having just running into two new people. Nodding a bit in politeness, the little boy spoke again, a little squeak compared to his mother. But she was a squeak as well as far as he was concerned. 

The laughter that spilled forth almost jerked her tiny body. Enough so that she readjusted her wide brimmed hat with a careful hand, not wanting the sun to touch her face, add any more freckles that absolutely necessary.“Weed is harmless, I died just before the boom that was blow. Now that was wild. This is just a bunch of spoiled little babies swiping their parents money. I’ve no interest in babies,” She confirmed with a slight sneer. She wasn’t overly fond of having to blend in to any one crowd, she came from a time where it was all about being a beautiful flower, hippies running around trying to be artists and some other such nonsense. That had never really been her scene, she was much more concerned with looking after her family, and then hr husband. At least after her college days that was how she’d felt. Anything before that didn’t need to be revealed to Austin on this particular afternoon. “Worry about me when they roll out Sting, only then will I vanish while on the clock,” The ginger confirmed. These children probably had not clue one as to who The Police were, or what good music was.

Aussie tried as hard as he could not to laugh out as loud as he wished to. Marnie was funny, a woman with a good sense of humor after what had happened to her. He dare say that it was interesting when she came into the picture following after Lyle, a sour look on her face. He dear husband messed up the circle, and that was always what annoyed her the most about her death. The sheer idiocy of the man rather than the gall he had to kill her is his lapsed state of judgement. If he were in her shoes though Aussie figured he’d feel about the same. He was a droll perfectionist in life, and if something concerning his death with imperfect well, let’s just say he’d be just as sour as his fellow ginger. His green-blue hues landed on her as she spoke, seeing her sip her drink. She was bold, he would never place that junk hear his lips, annoyed at this job or not. He wondered vaguely how she would fair in his era, if she could handle the grain. But something inside him said she could, and he would’ve faired better than even himself. 

She could hear him entering their home, she always recognized that sound, even if she was out could the blonde usually snuffled awake and greeted him sleepily when he came home late. But tonight was decently early. It was now or never, she had to do this before she forced him to be with her any longer than he had to be. If he could be happy somewhere  else she would have to bite her tongue and let him go. She would just wind up back with Brian or maybe Jon, someone would exist for her. As long as she knew that he got to be with the kind of mate that would make him happy. That would give him a family and could make him smile. Not a foolish little girl that was more trouble than she was worth. Her own self deprecating thoughts were starting to eat away at her before she even got out of their bedroom. Taking a shuddering breath she stood on shaky legs, grabbing a towel from the small pile of folded laundry as she wandered out to greet him. He always managed to get his unruly hair wet. Keeping her head down, acting so much more like a submissive than she’d ever allowed herself to seem the young blonde held the towel out to the wolf, “For your hair,” Was all that she could croak out in that second.

He barely heard her come into the living room, and he knew for a fact he couldn’t smell her with all the shit that was around them. If there was a  negative to this holiday it was the fact that the scents messed with him so much it out him in such a sour mood that even the children in the clinic could notice it. Peeking up at her with one tired eye, Liam attempted a failed smirk at her. She’d understand his appreciation he hoped as he shuffled upwards to shake the towel through his hair. Snuffling a bit from behind the think fabric, Liam could hear her starting to speak again, dropping the towel a bit so he could hear her just a bit better. But when the words finally hit him, it was like he attempted to hide in the towel once more, wild hair peeking out instead of his annoyance. Why today? Of all the days this woman could’ve brought this up it had to be tonight. He was too tired to fight, to tired to even care. Liam could feel the rage bubbling like a luke warm kettle under his skin. Not enough to explode, but enough to show up on his face when he finally decided to look at her.

Shaking the boy’s hand, and he was a boy, Tasha kept up her professional air. She had to keep in control, life was naught but a game of chess that she had to win. Dion used to laugh at her every now and again, tell her how clever she was, how it scared him every now and again to see the cogs turning in her eyes, he never knew what would be coming next. It had always burned like pride in her gut when he’d said that. But such trivial things were in the past…they hardly mattered anymore. The second she was able to Tasha was back to clasping her hands behind her back. Astrid nodded happily, pleased as punch clearly. “Well, I’m off back to editing, it was lovely to meet you Maverick, I hope you enjoy your time with us,” She chirped and with that was off back towards the elevator. If Tasha didn’t know the fake red head better she’d assume that Astrid was always high. No human being possibly had that much energy stored up so early in the morning. But she didn’t dwell, she had enough work to do, and now she had to worry about keeping this baby duckling under her wing and out of traffic. If she fell behind there would surely be hell to pay.

Maverick watched the billowy woman leave, wondering again whether it was a rouse or not. No-one could really be that...happy all the time, there was no way. Snapping back for a second as Miss Hunt started to speak, Maverick collected himself as she strode off with all the finesse of a big cat and began following her like a new pup in the pack. He never liked the feeling of being new, of knowing everyone was going to treat him with a certain level of disdain because he would have to ask questions, that he would need to be shown the ropes, and that he was fresh meat in the zoo that was business. He watched her walk, hips swaying and heels clicking determinedly. She had confidence dripping from every pore, but even that was a mistake on her end. No-one in a position of power should over exert it, it would cause mutiny at some point, no matter how high on the social and business ladder one climbed. There was always someone on a lower rung who’d trip you without a second thought, but if someone was more relatable, well then, they’d be less inclined to take out the rung from beneath you. 

She didn’t seem apt to talk, however Psymon could see her brain ticking along as she dissected the situation, something that made the boy snort slightly. A quiet scoff of a laugh, trying to understand Axel? Good luck. Questioning eyes fell upon him and the Ravenclaw clammed back up all at once, not willing to try to find the words in English, or to fight through his accent he simply shrugged “Ekkert,” Was all that he bothered to force out into the hall, gaze wandering away as his brother began to speak, enigmatic and strange as always. It wasn’t shocking to him as to why women fawned over him, with his strange accent and wild laugh. Axel was interesting to the witches who’d only ever seen the same pack of wizards. Although somewhere along the white noise that was Axel’s banter his brother’s attention fell back onto him, sadly enough. Lanky arm tightening just enough to keep him in place, he was done with classes for the day and wanted to go study, or nap, anything to avoid human contact really. Anything would have been better than his brother trying to force words out of him. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself? Faðir taught you those manners at least,” The mention of their father would have brought a glare across a weaker man’s face, Psymon’s remained blank as he settled his eyes on the blonde.

It was almost instantaneous how her opinion changed of Axel the moment he actually opened his mouth at her. The level of mystery he held vanished and he became another face in the crowd. He wasn’t as smart as she had hoped, or as intellectual, but then again there lay the flaw in her logic; she hoped something out of someone who wasn’t capable, and she let herself down more than the actual being itself. Her forest green’s never took themselves off the other brother. He looked clam, but there was a storm brewing under his skin, under his dead eyes, and under all the hair atop his head. And that in itself made Riley intrigued again with the pair. She wondered how brothers like this came to be, how two very different people could occupy the same household, let alone the same parents. Blinking a bit, tilting her head to the side as if she were looking at the most fantastical of creatures, Riley continued to talk absent-mindedly to Axel as he spoke to her, never forgetting her manners. 

But I Love It (9:14 PM)

Alaistair sat on his bike for a while longer than he wanted, but his days were looking more and more like this after driving back and forth from the studio, or from a bar of his choice. He smelled of cigarettes and whiskey, and of perfume that got caught on his shirt of a lovely girl who just had the nicest ass. Letting the smoke cur around his tongue, the end of his cigarette flaring up like a lightning bug, Alaistair wondered how much longer would his anxiety taunt him as he felt guilty for his seemingly normal actions. It wasn’t like he made promises of commitment, and he was sure the kid knew by now what a righteous whore he was. It was his M.O. to be this way, after all he was a rock star and a fucking asshole. Spinning the butt around Alaistair snuffed it out on the asphalt as he looked up, icy hues a little hesitant. 

The First of Many (9:18 PM)

It had been a long day at the infirmary. Pack pups coming in and out with the sniffles, which was normal for this time of year, but still a tedious and annoying task to deal with. Faye had come in and out to help, making sure that the pups were in line, and weren’t devouring candy in heaps. His ocean blue eyes were trained on the medical records in front of him, ticking off who was really ill and who wasn’t. sniffles didn’t count as an illness that needed immediate care, but influenza did, and if enough pups caught that, well wolves and pups alike would have a very unhappy holiday to look forward to. His fingers rubbed at his temples as he finished up the last of the paperwork, delegating the nurses to call any of the families who were in need, and set up follow up appointments within the next couple of days. He was beat by the end of it all, and all he could do was think about getting home to crash. It was a the eve, and he was here working away like a demented Santa. He never understood why he chose this profession, with his temper he was liable to snap a pup over his leg...But when he saw those runts with their big, sad eyes, all runny and in pain, Liam didn’t need any more reminders. 

Sting Like A Bee (7:16 AM)

Icy blue eyes were trained on his phone, looking through the last few messages between him and his father Edgar. He was a good man, a confused one, but a good man nonetheless. Edgar was always there for him no matter what the circumstance was, and for that he was a little blessed. He never went about life wondering who he was or craving things he didn’t need. Collin was just as supportive, if not more supportive because he found the donor and made him who he was, to an extent. Maverick Alexi Michellson, born to two gay fathers, raised in the most prolific city in the East Coast, finishing his degree in business administration at NYU, things were looking up for him, or he supposed at least. He was accepted for an internship at Times magazine, whether it just be an internship he specifically wanted one under a boss who knew how to run their people, and apparently they had just the woman for him. The subway was crowded, but it was his only means of transport in the crowded city, a car wasn’t going to cut it here in the city. Flicking through his phone Maverick decided he’d just text his father later, trying to focus on the task at hand.