#* interactions.

saera hadn’t been on the best terms with her mother lately, especially since arriving at king’s landing which brought more tension between the two for various reasons. she wanted to avoid the arguments for one night ( despite stirring them up after one too many glasses of wine ) and actually find delightment in the feast, which was at its wildest as the hour of the wolf approached and most of the guests were drunk.

“please, don’t move--” saera urged the person next to her as she took shelter at a random table, sinking into the seat so she could be out of view for her mother’s watchful gaze. she watched as helaena looked around before exiting the great hall. only then saera sat more comfortably, taking notice of which table happened to be her temporary hiding place; it was golden locks she’d used as a shield. “my apologies, lady lannister. how are you enjoying the feast?”

Montana had treated him fairly well, it was a warm place, but nothing could compare to home. Not only that but the constant calls he’d get from his siblings, Bode, for the most part, had urged him to visit sooner rather than later. He couldn’t understand why there was so much tension in the air, with Kinsey looking in distress way too many times. He felt pushed away like there was something being hidden from him that he was not allowed to know.

sunkyu made very many plans, all of them very carefully-crafted very ahead of time. one of the other volunteers had texted him a week ago about being out for the weekend to attend some wedding, and sunkyu, seized by an unfortunate softness at the thought of some faraway couple’s holy matrimony, had agreed to cover their shift at the animal shelter. that was the same day he’d swallowed his pride and pleaded junghwa for help -- the shelter was understaffed as it was and more often relied on volunteers for upkeep, but volunteers came and went unpredictably, especially with the summer season; sunkyu hadn’t been so prideful to think that he could handle this on his own.

but perhaps he hadn’t been humble enough.

“stay! stay, please. i’m sorry.” the cat yowls plaintively while sunkyu tries to peel her grip off of his forearm and usher her properly into her cage. “i’m so sorry. i love you, i’ll be back. please stay.” her name is kwan, and it suits her. her claws are like iron vices on his sleeve, threatening to fray and unspool them as he finally coaxes her off. 

from the back of her cage, she looks at him like she’s condemning him to a thousand lifetimes of imprisonment. yes, he deserves that. sunkyu whispers one last apology before swinging the cage door shut and then rushing out of the back room.

what’s next, what’s next? the cats are all clean and back in their cages, the bird feeders have been refilled, the rabbit’s cage has been redressed, and the dogs--

the dogs.

“junghwa-hyung! the dogs! they need to--” by the sound of his voice, an onlooker could very well think the devil was on his heels. sunkyu reappears in the doorway, keenly aware of how disheveled he must look, but that’s not a priority when the dogs might be...

...rolling around with junghwa?

“  surely you did not think your arrival would go unnoticed by me.  ”  was there any other moment in the prince’s life that felt more satisfying than this? he could not recall. theodore hoped to catch him when least expected. it felt most appropriate considering casimier’s failed attempt to sneak about like a common thief. fortunately, prince theodore had eyes and ears everywhere... and they were only too eager to share the news of prince casimier’s sighting.

days in the work for a new project, something not so simple that had left varian’s brain drained and his body exhausted. from carrying around materials, to tuning the formula to perfection –– and yet, it blew up on his face, again. frankly, he had been expecting such turn out, which was why after such an unfortunate explosive event, the dark haired boy took out three more things out of his backpack. marshmallows, honey crackers and chocolate. “at least i can count on fire and some smores.” he thought out loud.

“agent mokele?” almost immediately, gail regretted not having omitted the habit of addressing him by his codename. but it was too late -- she could feel some heat in her face already, and simply wished she’d shed that custom by her interaction with the next agent. “i wanted to ask if i could take a look at cynthia sato’s autopsy report. i know that is your area, so i promise not to step on your toes.”