#wolventm

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Like shit he had, but the kid’s young so he gets a little more slack than most would in his position. And maybe he’s grown on the over sized Irishman a bit. Maybe. Still though it’s not a joke, what Luka is trying to teach. And the least Peter could do was provide him with his undivided attention.

           “No? Be havin’ ta fix d’at.”

Green and yellow reflect a non existent light source. Most of his upper body weight lifted from the hands along the table. The table set up with a twisting maze that could very well go toe to toe with the great Labyrinth of the Minotaur. And from it he plucks the small chess pawn splattered in green paint. Tossing it towards the younger man.

ALL  WAS  DIM  .     lights  did  not  shine  brightly  in  the  bar            no  ,     the  lights  of  the  bar  accentuated  shadows  all  around  .     no  music  to  lighten  up  presumed  heavy  atmosphere  ,     no  EFFORT  executed  on  cleaning  tiles  of  floor     ;    though  clear  of  any  alcohol  ,     certain  spots  looked  a  tad  darker  than  other  spots  .     just  his  luck  ,     it's  reasonable  to  think  he'll  only  stays  for  a  few  drinks     &&     head  back  early  .

“You never need an excuse to hang out with me.” She’s completely welcome to hang out with him any time she wants for any reason at all. He doesn’t mind and enjoys her company. That’s PRETTY OBVIOUS, he’s sure. Shoulder gently bumps against hers, blue eyes finding her own blue eyes. “You okay?”

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He’d stepped outside to give his ears a break from the merry making inside. The pub was rowdier than normal tonight. But not in a bad way. Someone’s birthday and well no one ever said Irish celebrated anything quietly. Because where was the fun in that?

Fire sparks in the darkened ally way, brief but luminescent. Lighting up his features in a way that might give tell to the creature he’d once been. Was in someways still. But it comes and goes with the match flame. Nothing more than momentary flicker in a city that hadn’t noticed. Smoke expelled from lungs that will never know the consequences of such a bad habit.

Phone pulled out of his pocket to habitually check incoming messages. Never know when one might be a job worth bothering with. But even that is stowed away again after a moment. The not so human turning his back to the alley. Watching the proverbial world go by as he lets the ringing in his ear slowly ebb. 

Which will be exactly what he blames, for not hearing the other male approach. What excuse he will make for being quite literally though inadvertently snuck up on. And when the collision happens--well its honestly the very last sort of person he expects to have run into him. Let alone apologizing for it a second later.  Even as he instinctively intakes a good bit of air, scenting his accidental assailant in the process.

A werewolf. Joy.

            “No harm done.”

And he means that, even if he’s a little not precisely happy, to be sharing space with the other not human. Because honestly he’s thrown a little off kilter with the manners. Beyond the fact that the other hadn’t seen him? Has to be a bit of a light joke. But regardless that’s all second to the smell of blood, and the hiss of pain he picks up woven into the other’s words.

              “Be foi’ne, lad..”

“Now that’s just rude Cerberus. We both drink,” she said before looking back at the other. “This is Cerberus, the original hellhound and guardian of the underworld for the Greeks. Hence his height and red eye,” she introduced. Night had a habit of not hiding what they were, especially towards supernatural creatures.