Azriel was in his bar Crossroads when he felt a tug that he hadn't felt in a long time. The pull of someone calling to make a deal with him which was odd because he could tell it was coming from the other side of the world. Usually, a demon from over there would handle it, but sometimes the best demon for the deal in question was called so he called out to the employees to tell them he was being called away and disappeared.

He appeared in front of the young man in a nice black suit, his eyes in their human look so as not to scare the man. "Well, hello," he nearly purred, finding he thought the young man quite cute, "How can I help you? What could a cute little thing like you need from me?"

@rozanovrps sent: "It's okay - it's okay. Just take a breath. The feeling will come back." For Shane please 🖤 From my meme tag || always accepting

Upon waking from that light sedation Shane had been put under not too long ago, he had freaked out.

Literally freaked out. Freaked out over the fact that he wasn't able to feel his right leg; Holy shit, he can't feel his leg. What the fuck. Oh god, what the fuck, why can't he feel his right leg, where is it, what's going on---

It took him a minute to realize he's in a hospital again and Ilya is by his side, and said Ilya is squeezing one of his hands, trying to get him to calm the fuck down. It had taken Shane another additional minute to remember what had happened in the first place; A bit of a fucked-up collission on the ice mid-game, another player sliding into his leg, the very uncomfortable feeling of bones moving in a way they were not supposed to, followed by his head smacking against the hard surface beneath him with a velocity that must've knocked him out cold.

---Shane is still freaking out, actually, but he's stopped trying to climb out of this stupid bed at this point. All he does is breathing way too quickly instead, heart racing behind his sternum, and his wide open doe-eyes flick over himself to assess the whole of the situation; An IV drip is attached to his right hand, he's wearing a hospital gown, stuff is beeping by his side (a heart monitor, he supposes) and... his right leg still seems to be there. Thank god. Fuck. Shane has to ckeck anyways, lifts the sheets far enough to be able to take a peek, and... yes, still there. Mostly intact, it seems, because the only thing that's catching his attention is the bandage that's wrapped around his knee.

"...What--- ohmygod, what---" A deep inhale, a slow exhale, as Shane drops the sheets and falls back against the pillow behind his upper back - head turning so he can look at his husband now instead, unspoken questions written all over his face, trying not to freak out for a second time. "It's--- it's going to come back? Yes? Are you sure, Ilya? Are you positive that I'm not---"

He squeezes Ilya's hand with his own, where they're still connected, and bites his bottom lip.

@rozanovrps sent: "I didn't know where else to go." For Ilya please 🖤 From my meme tag || always accepting

Ilya hasn't seen her in quite a while. Not in person, that is.

She's lucky that he's even staying at his Boston home when she seeks him out, not currently getting drunk in some club instead; He'd planned to go out that night, actually - had already let the boys know he'll be around in a minute or two, once he's finished smoking his cigarette and prepared himself mentally to allow himself to enjoy things, one last time, before leaving for good.

Shane had told him he could go out there, show himself, assured it's going to be fine as long as he's not--- ...the request had been left unfinished, hanging in the air with silence stretching, but Ilya had understood the meaning of it. Of course he had. And he always will.

---However, a change of plans has just appeared, out of nowhere, standing in front of his door - knocked once, twice, three times before Ilya had moved his body over, assuming for Cliff to be there to pick him up or something...

It's Alina instead, and Ilya's slavic-bitch-face is immediately replaced by raw surprise that stretches over his features - complete with lifted brows and parted lips, a blink or two, before he shakes his head in what is clear disbelief.

"---Alinushka." Another blink and Ilya's stepping to the side, guiding her inside, door falling closed moments after - and his gaze returns to her, taking in the sight as if he still cannot quite believe she's here, at his house, already dark outside.

"What--- what are you doing here?!"

text Lev: How are you settling in?

text Lev: Do you want to grab dinner?

text Lev: I'd like to spend some time with you...

text Lev: Your first shift is tonight at 9. Don't be late.

Kyle could never have anticipated what would happen when Scott and Kip came out on the ice.

Who knew that the Kingfisher would become a hub for hockey players? And who knew that Kyle would actually enjoy that fact? It's brought a new surge of life to the bar and reignited his love for bartending. The extra profit and popularity now mean that he can focus on different aspects of the business that he wouldn't have had a chance to before. Such as tailored cocktails.

Shane let out a sigh and rolled his eyes as he brought over water and some more pain meds. "Well when I came over for a very different reason, I didn't think you'd be nursing bruised ribs..." He sat down next to Ilya, relaxing back into the pillows. "You're in pain... I can at least give you some pain killers..."