Cian was sitting on one of the chairs in the park, the very image of perfection. From bottom to top he was dressed as if he was headed to a movie premiere next. Black leather shoes that shone in the winter sun, a two piece suit, a beige long winter coat open to show off the suit, yellow-tainted prescription glasses, and a yellow beanie.

A cup of espresso on a saucer was standing on the table next to them, and they were absent-mindedly scanning the paper for anything of last weekend's efforts.

They noticed a shadow pass by their table and looked up as they pressed the cup to their lips and downed the last of the espresso - it was too cold for it to survive longer than a minute - before reaching into their jacket to dab the remainders of coffee from their lips. "This is the last place I'd expect to see you," they said to the other.

Cian was typing away on their phone as if their life depended on it - perhaps it actually did - trying to find out if Snake Den was bluffing, or if they truly did have the means to blow up two locations. And if so, to make sure nobody was there anymore.

It didn’t prove as easy as they thought it might be… with the amount of connections they had throughout the city, one might think they knew exactly who to reach out to. But he was lacking in it now, as if everyone was falling away from him, the ones he truly needed weren’t replying, the ones he didn’t need but was just checking up on were flooding his phone. People were in despair, fearing whatever chaos might follow.

Cian didn’t date. At least not for any other reason than to further his own goals: either because his mother had wanted something or because he knew there was something to gain from the information he might acquire. And he certainly didn’t see anything that could come out of dating a coworker. It was a dangerous venture, a game that might leave him more hurt than anything else. But Cian was growing lonely, passing his twenties without the need for a companion, aside from meaningless one-night stands. He wanted something in his life, something to hold onto, another human being to hold in his arms. 

Cian would’ve never thought their future would be shared with their half-brother, if anything, the way their lives were set out, they should’ve been happy never to have their roads cross. One the prodigy for the father, the other for the mother, Cian was not in John Richter’s vision at all, and there was no need for them to be, with their mother’s expectations already of great magnitude and weight. 

Yet, here they were, both of them working for an organisation that sought to bring down everything they’d once been raised to believe in. Cian wondered at times if the same weight had broken them, if they were similar in that sense, if this was their father’s genes having an effect on them, or if it was merely a coincidence. 

As the case stood however: the two half-siblings were expected to work together. 

Cian presented Talos with his usual morning beverage, clad in a warm winter jacket, they took a sip of their own: a double espresso. “Anything on schedule today?”