[ P ] if i made my bed, did i make the demons in it?

his grin was always halfway a smile—

set during welcome to the playground

This is probably among the stupider of Baptista's decisions. But when the youngest Scowcroft gets bored, there is very little that will stop him from finding a source of entertainment. And since his brother has so kindly made certain to publicly label him as a taken man, he has to find other ways to scratch the itch. And an opportunity to see the new sovereign state of Saora—on somewhat less-than-appropriate terms—as well as participate in a lucrative game? Consider the itch scratched.

It seems he's found the place at the right time, considering the din clamoring from inside the building. Baptista has no interest in joining a fight—wouldn't want to get his pretty boy face banged up, after all—but he's more than willing to bet on one. And when he catches the venom in the female's gaze and tone as he approaches the side of the ring to place his bet, it's easy to choose who to put his money on. Whatever her reason for being here, it's personal, and there's an edge about her that he likes. So he places a bet on Ruin, and slips into the crowd.

Somewhere along the way, he obtains a drink, and finds a spot where he can easily see the spot-lit arena in the middle of the room. When the fight starts, Baptista watches on as eagerly as the rest of those in attendance, a sharp glint in his eyes. He doesn't like to lose.

—and halfway a threat

code // art

fangs out in the moonlight

Crossing into Saora was no easy feat. But slicking a few palms of some soldiers had done wonders in getting him across the invisible line between two warring countries. He could only hope it was as easy to get back and it was to get in. He shouldn't even been here to begin with, but a certain wolf just couldn't resist. Baptista. Odysseus was of the constant opinion that keeping tabs of the mayors brother was worth it, but anytime he complained, Augustine just threw more money at him.

So, begrudgingly, Odysseus left Rionnach behind. He may not sport an army uniform that could cost him his life without a question, but he was still a mainlander. Wary eyes still followed him as he stepped into the underground fight club. The onyx wolf didn't waver, meeting each stare with a silent challenge. Say something. He wasn't here for any of them, he wasn't even here to enjoy the fights. That didn't stop him from watching once he spotted Baptista amongst the crowd. Lingering out of the mans views for a time, Odysseus watched, eyes shifting between the brawl and the errant wolf.

When he did approach, he came to stand beside the wolf. Odysseus didn't say anything, not at first, he simply appeared from the shadows, letting his presence speak for itself. Baptista has a drink in hand and a seat which gives them both a good view of the ring. The opponents face off, the woman all but breathing fire. Her anger could give her the edge to win. But the obdisian wolf wasn't here to place bets for himself. He was here to make sure the feral Scrowcroft didn't get himself killed.

"speech"

code // art