「 ━ REVENANT. 」

She had came and left so fast that she merely was just a memory at this point in time. Just another pretty face that had managed to capture his attention briefly. Malakai had this unfortunate endeavor placed on him his entire life when it came to women. He never properly courted someone and even to this day he was still so very awkward with human interaction. He just appeared so stoic, intense, and overall a difficult man. Malakai was the type of man to either leave a lasting impression or have others despise him for his intellect. Either way, it didn’t matter, because sooner or later those same people would disappear from his life. 

He had finally managed to catch up with his work load. Finalizing the last of the grades and organizing them accordingly he was interrupted by a tap at the door. His peripheral view went from the documents to the woman earlier in the day holding two cups between her palms. His nostrils flared smelling the familiar scent of blood in one of the cups. Malakai immediately stood up from his desk and eyed the cup with his usual go-to blood type. 

“You shouldn’t have.” He said politely, reaching for the warm cup, and taking it. “Trying to make friends with the right people?” He asked, eyes burning into hers as he sipped on the cup. Feeling satisfied with the remainder of blood left in the mug he smirked. “It’s working. If you were my student I’d probably look into giving you some form of extra credit. Since you’re merely a professor, well, I’ll promise not to sink my teeth into you.” He teased. 

There was a certain aura of kindness radiating over his body when he spoke with her. It was just the little things that he appreciated. He enjoyed humans giving him things because it made him feel somewhat powerful. Even if he knew deep down that she just was being friendly, and it wasn’t a submissive action, he still liked it. 

"You make a lot of assumptions, don’t you?” she replies evenly, measuring her tone so that it doesn’t come across antagonistic. Almost teasing, even. She also makes a point of not allowing her gaze to waver, especially when his own remains resolutely focused on her. Could he be trying to read her reactions before she can voice them? Possibly. Does it bother her? Not enough to put her off completely. Sure, like most people she’s not a fan of assumptions being made about her, but the ones he’s made thus far are pretty tame in comparison to the harsher ones she’s had to deal with. She does take note of it, though. The fact that he thinks of himself as ‘the right people’ says plenty right there. She won’t judge him for it. Not unless he tries lording it over her. “How’s your track record with that, by the way? Because since we’ve met you’re at 0-2.” Raising her coffee to her mouth, she pauses before her lips can touch the lid. “Ulterior motives aren’t my thing,” she elaborates further, rebuffing his tease behind her motive for being friendly towards him. Shooting him a brief smile, she takes a sip of her coffee and parts from it with a pleased sigh.

He pouted for a moment as if disappointed by her request, though he’d known the response. Still, he tilted his head to the side as he watched her speak. Finally, he chuckled a little as she finished and shook his head a little, “Damn, you drive a tough bargain, Miss. How about I play a song and if you like it, we go get a drink , deal?”

Amusement twitches up the corners of her mouth as he speaks, despite a half-hearted attempt to smother it. If nothing else, she’s at least entertained by his confidence. He’d been in a foul mood not but a minute ago, ranting to everyone and no one all at once, and yet he was quick to turn on the charm if the opportunity presented itself. Opportunist. That’d serve him well as a musician if he knew how to capitalize on that particular trait. Well, that and actual talent. His good looks certainly weren’t a hindrance either. Yes, she has noticed. She doesn’t turn him down exactly, even if her first instinct is to do so. That’s through no fault of his; she has a reason to keep people at arm’s length, a reason to be wary of strangers. Years spent looking over her shoulder while on the run has fostered a general sense of distrust, one that existed long before that but seemed to deepen over time. It’s proving quite difficult to shake, but she’s determined to try. Even if progress remains slow-going. She shakes her head a little, smile still curving ruby lips. “Not making any promises, but we’ll see. Fortune favors the bold and all that.” Nodding towards him in gesture, she curls her fingers around her cup of coffee. “Go on, then. Ready whenever you are.”

“It sure is.” Mari loved a busy night. Sure, it meant that there might be more problems, but one of the perks of her new wolf-hood was that she no longer hand to wait around for security to handle it. She could usually handle it on her own. And the tips were great. Sometimes more than her check. “I have just the thing.” Mari mixed up a few things before putting it in a glass for the woman. “I call it ‘Floored’ because that’s what usually happens after a few of these,” she said with a little laugh as she placed it in front of the woman.

Serena preferred busy nights too. Easier to blend in, get lost in a crowd. As if she hadn’t done enough of that in her life. Drumming the fingers of one hand against the bartop while she waits on the bartender to serve her a drink, she swivels a bit in her seat as she gives the place another once-over before returning her attention to the other woman. Eyeing the concoction slid her way, she takes it in hand and shoots the brunette a smile. “Sounds like nothing but trouble.” Judging by the fact that her grin has yet to disappear, it's clear that she wasn’t at all minding. Raising the glass to her lips, she takes a cautious sip and lets the taste settle a bit before giving her judgment. “Okay, see that?” Setting her glass down, she points towards it. “That’s delicious. Therefore deadly,” she laughs, mixing her drink some more with the straw provided to her. “I think I’ll err on the side of caution and only have the recommended ‘few’, whatever that ends up meaning. What’s even in that, by the way?”