December 31st

Cris had half a mind to venture downstairs for a freshly brewed cup of tea and the promise of warmth by the fireplace. But that had been ten minutes ago. Present time finds him dressed in the same haphazard manner as the previous evening; only a thin white shirt and black denim, snug to his legs. The same Mark beneath his left elbow shows itself across the back of his right foot. Leaning into the railing, a cigarette between scarred knuckles, he watches the game below, keeping his distance.

Andrew pushes through the front door with a stiff arm that lingers in the air even after he's encompassed by the warmth of the commons. When his hand eventually lowers it's tucked within the confines of the pocket of his wool jacket just like its match. He spares a glance around the room at the others gathered but his swift steps don't hesitate in their path towards the stairs. He's not even at the bottom of them when a slice of a smile cuts across his features, lips curling and hazel eyes lifting towards the railing.

Cigarette to his mouth, mid-inhale a wink of blond closes distance out of the corner of his eyes, stealing his attention. Recognition comes in a blink.

Shined black dress shoes start a slow path up the stairs, much slower than needed and his gaze never leaving the Nephilim. "Cris," The way he said the name, like old friends. "Taking a smoke break between bouts of making Lenore cry? Has to be hard work, exhausting even I'm sure." Asked as casually as wondering what his opinion of the weather is even though an edge grew in his expression the closer he got to the second floor landing.

Lying to himself if he said that he had not expected something, at least, along those lines. "Andrew. It's a different sort of cry that exhausts the both of us. This is my reward." Flicking ashes over the railing. "Not that I presume you'd know about that."

Hands lift in mock surrender when he reaches the top of the stairs, his path going no further than that for now. "Oh, pardon me. Did I offend you, Cris? You wound me." A hand crossing over his chest to rest over where his heart should be. "Way to show me who's boss by parading it around that you're sleeping with my cousin. Classy. But you do like wearing all of that on your sleeve, don't you? That's why you have her collared like some sort of animal?"

"I parade nothing that you do not already know, nor have not already told me." Head turning to regard Andrew, his expression is equal parts irritation and confusion. "Shall I wait for you to bullet point the rest of my transgressions?"

"What's wrong, Cris? Do I speak too much? I could always follow in your footsteps and talk less. Maybe I'll keep vital information from you for my own amusement. Maybe..." Waving his hand through the air, trying to pick out an oh-so-random example. "Know the whereabouts of a long lost relative and lie point blank to your face when asked for help in finding them." Hand drops. "No, I don't think I could do that. Only a truly awful excuse for a..." Looks him up and down. "Whatever you are, would do that."

"You ask too many questions. The inflection in your voice is irritating." Scratching along one dark brow, he straightens from his lean against the railing. "I respect that as her cousin you see fit to defend her, but that is a matter that has already been discussed, several times over. The rest, including my loyalties, are none of your business." He was not much to look at, a hair shorter than the other man, and about as thin, though cast in black and white, the only color present upon him the shattered peridot of his gaze, narrowed, though not in defiance, but simple annoyance.

"Your presence is irritating. It's unfortunate that Lenore has yet to learn her true potential and the things that she deserves out of life, but with hope those things will come in time and this," Gesturing at Cris, all of him, in general. "Will no longer be a problem. This all has been discussed but everything that we spoke about before has changed since your association with Lenore is much closer than I ever would have assumed. I only hope you realize it's nothing personal. But... you are not a shape-shifter. Perhaps being a Nephilim, whatever that is, is nice where you come from. But here? Now? With my cousin, my blood?" Shakes his head. "Not good enough." A little shrug, what can you do?

He looks down at himself as well, a reflex, wondering briefly if he'd spilled something on his shirt and left a stain that he didn't know about. "Collaring someone can take many forms, Andrew. I'm very curious as to what her reaction will be once you let her know your...feelings about the matter." It was his turn to look the other man up and down, easing into another lean against the railing with his elbow, scarred fingers folding at his stomach. "I'd need not even lift a finger in my own defense before your throat would be at my feet. You may share her blood, Andrew, but the familial bond you speak of has been lost to her since she was a child. You are little more than a very pale stranger that happens to know more about her abilities than she does. Congratulations."

"I told her my opinion of it and that the collar is ridiculous. She had very little to say in its defense if memory serves me right." Sniffing sympathetically for Cris with another shrug. "And who would be doing that throat ripping? Lenore? My cousin is sweet and someday she will reach her full potential but for now I'm afraid you must fight your own fights, Nephilim. If your kind is used to that sort of thing." Another round of sizing up the boy. "Are you related to elves?" Lips purse, weighing the possibility before dismissing it with a wave. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter. A bond of blood is not something that can so easily be broken by time and distance. Stronger still is the bond between our kind. Lenore has not been lucky enough to be raised on our values but she will learn them, she wants to learn them, and she will be much better for it. All you have done is taken advantage of one of our weakened shifters. Congratulations. It will not last."

"Could it be that perhaps she thought you ridiculous? It was a gift. Had she been offended by it, she could have chosen not to accept it. The fact that you were not here at the time to slap it from her hand is not my fault." Tilts his head. He had, actually, been about to clarify his lack of Elven relation, but found it unnecessary at the dismissal. The misunderstandings and false accusations about his abrupt need to possess women were beginning to grate on him. "I think it bothers you more that she does not feel the same distinct pride as you do, allowing herself to be "captured," as you insist on putting it."

"Perhaps she didn't realize the great insult she was undertaking in accepting the gift. As I said, with time will come changes. Lenore is currently domesticated. I'm unsure if you took her in that way or if you made her that way, but she has the ability to become much more than what she is being allowed to right now. It doesn't bother me so much as it makes me deeply sad for her. We are capable of great things and she unfortunately has not had someone to teach that to her. I will change that and naturally that pride will start to pour from her as it should. Then she will realize she does not have to lower herself to the levels of those beneath her." His airy expression tightens with a very pointed look at Cris, eye to eye.

"Whatever the case, debating it with me will get you nowhere. And so will describing her using terms like domesticated. Clearly, your own desire for a pet is clouding your judgement of this, very different situation." Looking away, he peels from his lean against the banister. "If your only intention was to warn me of the coming storm, thank you. I'll be sure to purchase an umbrella. If you'll excuse me..." Doubting very much that the other man will simply let him go, but he does begin to move toward the stairs around Andrew regardless.

"Domesticated is the best way to describe her but it's not a death sentence. She is capable of accomplishing great things and will someday be my equal. At least I want to build her up rather than keep her where she's at." Hazel eyes move past Cris and down the hall to the room he shares with Lenore. "Really, my intention had been to see my cousin and to make sure she was doing alright after the terrible state she was left in some nights ago. It was simply dreadful, quite the depressing sight to behold, the poor thing." He lets Cris move past him, taking a step forward himself, but not without a solid connection of his shoulder matching that of Cris' in some rough contact. An accident, really. And then he's turning on his heels. "Even through the stink of you I can tell she's not home. Be a dear and tell me where Lenore is?" His predatory smile grows.

Ice fills his blood and he puts his hand on the railing in preparation of descent, but he looks to Andrew instead from beneath a darkly molded scowl. Tension around his mouth turns the corners of his lips white. "That's enough. Speak whatever you like about things that I have done, but do not presume to know me or my intentions beyond your prejudices misconceptions. Your blood and your kindred bond may be thick, but that makes no difference to me. I'll not be dictated to. Not you, of all people." He seems not to notice the contact to his shoulder beyond a soft grunt of irritation. "You've so much pride in your skill as a Shifter. Prove your superiority and track her down yourself." Beginning his descent.

For all that darkness in Cris' expression it only seems to brighten Andrew's. "Very well, Cris. I won't rub in what you've done or what you're not capable of doing. You're aware. It's your burden to cope with in your own way. I will not help." Like he's simply trying to be a good friend. "You don't wish to help reunite family? My, that is a running habit with you. A nasty one at that." It just so happens Cris and Andrew are going the same way, the wiry pale figure falling in line down the steps behind the Nephilim. "I'll find her. I've done it before and I'll do it again. And in another repeat of events soon to come she will be fleeing from your side to seek me out and the knowledge I hold to better her." A content nod.

Eyes close but not before a prominent roll to give life to the brewing torrent of ire he kept within his chest. "What is it exactly that you think I, or anyone, would get out of chaining her to my side?" Taking a better hold of the railing like it had suddenly become slick with oil. "Like it is some great plan of mine to break someone and keep them a shell in my bedroom." A thought clicks into place in his mind, and his willingness to discuss this any further abruptly dies. "That is repulsive. I'll not be compared to anything resembling that. This conversation is over." Continuing down to the first floor, he turns to head toward the bar.

His pace is casual down the stairs, not a single hiccup in his step as Cris speaks. "Keeping a shell of a girl in your bedroom? My, my. You have some dark and twisted thoughts rolling around in that head of yours, Cris. And the Nephilim doth protest too much, methinks. I'll leave you to them." Cris breaks away for the bar and the same swift yet stiff steps that brought Andrew inside carry him right past towards the front door.

There was no speaking with this man. He was like a Faerie, and it took considerably more brain power than he was willing to expend to speak with Faeries. Andrew shifts direction and he pauses, watching the man's back with his fist hidden behind his denim sheathed leg. It was clear he'd only come down to escape the conversation and now that he was here, there was little he wanted to do with himself.

If he could leave Cris feeling lost just by exiting, it would be the perfect ending to his exchange with the man. Without a single look back he pulled the front door open and the lanky blonde man was gone.

Lost and fully aware that he had no desire to be around people were two separate things. Pushing a hand through his hair, he exhaled a great deal of the tension in himself out on a single, long breath. A moment later, he returned upstairs and a door closed with much more force than it needed.

((Thank you to Crispin))