#God there'd be so much fucking fur

[myriad-ofmuses]

It's not as if he was caught off-guard when the decision was reached. There'd been whispers of it, and with all those meetings with the King it was clear that some sort of arrangement was being hashed out, even before he'd been pulled into the plotting of finalizing details.

Poor Carmine still didn't fully understand how things operated, it seemed. Once the Boss had his calculating mind set on something, paltry opinions, or dissent from others didn't amount to much.

It had been a bit of surprise that he himself was going to be an active participant in this venture, an amusing thought, if he was being honest. But he could understand why things shook out that way.

This was a collaboration with the King of Monsters himself, you didn't leave that shit to lackeys. He'd also gotten ingratiated with him over this past week or so, Sal wouldn't leave the safety of his daughters to just anyone, especially after what stupid shit the Hare family tried to pull.

A fuck-up so egregious anybody even vaguely rabbit-shaped was terrified to walk the streets, for fear of misdirected retaliation.

He rolled his eyes and with a flick of his lighter, had lit the clove cigarette hanging from his lips, taking in a deep drag of his ever-calming poison, avoiding the reflective surface of the window for the time being, letting the exhaled red smoke haze up the air around him.

He was currently covered up from ears to claw, but it still wasn't enough. Mind and soul weren't playing nice tonight, but he didn't have the luxury to give much of a conscious damn about it.

He needed to prepare to take over all of Rush's responsibilities for the foreseeable future. Balance it all with his own bullshit, somehow. He didn't doubt that he could carry the load, they'd built this shit up from nothing, after all.. and this wasn't the first time he'd had more Family upkeep stress dumped in his lap.

And not always from theirs, before.. his family, the Jacks, were just as reliant on him to manage and fix shit as far back as he could remember. Dumped the work on him so their golden boy could run around and play grande capo to everyone else.

The clove cigarette snapped under the pressure of iron-tight fingers, an irritated growl leaving him while he tossed the ruined pieces in the ashtray at his desk, dropping into a sprawl in his chair, with a heavy sigh.

Of all the fucking memories he'd lost, why couldn't those have gone with? He didn't want to be associated with those racist fuckers, let alone be thinking about them in the dead of the goddamn night.

It had honestly been somewhat surprising that the Jacks hadn't been involved in the Hare's scheme, it was exactly the kind of brain-dead plot his brother would get entangled in. Thank the oh-so-gracious gods for small favors, he supposed.

It'd be harder to prove innocence if his former family were tied in, somehow. One strike, he was a rabbit, if there were two strikes against him, well shit.. only lucky fuckers weren't shot dead after the first two. Three was goddamn miraculous. Might as well play the roulette table with that sort of luck.

He snickered to himself, running a hand through his messy fur with a deep sigh.

"Need to stop thinkin' bout this shit. Not doin' me any favors.. should be tryna rest, not dredging up the past. Hardly even the same person anymore, anyway. Some other expendable fuck's memories."

With another humorless chuckle, he pushed himself up from the desk with a tired stretch, shuffling over to the bed and without preamble, dropping bodily onto it and burying his face into his pillow, his tired body immediately sinking into the comfort of the mattress, even with the annoying itch in his soul.

He was too worn out to even deal with it himself. And that tire was just going to be compounded when all this shit really started, needed to stockpile all the sleep that he could, to compensate for the all-nighters he'd be pulling soon enough, so the gene could go fuck itself, preferably quietly in the corner where he'd kicked it.

He pulled his pager off its clip to set it on the bedside table, where it would still be audible if he got a buzz. Not that he expected one, Rush was probably asleep himself by now, and Carmine.. well, either soothing her sorrows with the girls, or a liquor hole. They all dealt with stress differently, tended to lick their wounds alone.

Or well, just didn't deal with it at all. If that counted as a strategy. Wore his like his fucking clown-red fur at this point.

With another deprecating chuckle, he rolled over and closed his eyes, his deep-seated tire winning out over any further inconsequential thoughts or feelings, his resting breaths deep and even.

[weremagitara]

One. Whole. Week.

A full seven days of forced bed rest had Tara going a little stir crazy. She felt fully recovered three days in, but Loki lightly threatened her insisted she stay to ensure her brain and mind had time to cope as well as her body. Sure, she was could get up to use the bathroom and bathe, but Loki wanted her in bed nearly every other minute of the day. Whenever she was out of bed and he returned from a meeting or came to check on her, she'd scramble back to the bed. She had only actually been caught a couple times-- the punishment for which was a stern scolding-- but she had the feeling he knew more then he let on.

She once tried to just take a walk down to one of the gardens for a change of scenery while he was gone, which ended with a guard on either side of her escorting her back to her and Loki's room. He even had gone so far as to have a palace guard stand watch outside their room to make sure she didn't try to leave again. It was like she was on house arrest. Her only solace was that Stag got to come visit and play often, providing a much needed distraction, but it wasn't enough for her.

"This is fucking ridiculous!!" She cried out to the barren room, throwing her fists down into the soft furs that were draped across Loki's bed. She shoved the covers off and threw herself out of the bed only to stand in the middle of the room and stare out the balcony window. She wasn't just bored, she was miserable. Unlike on Earth, there was nothing to distract her from the lonely hours of silence. If she were back on Earth, there'd be T.V. and Netflix and smartphones and music and all sorts of things to keep her occupied while she was supposed to be resting. But here...she could maybe read, but it seemed the palace didn't have a lot of "Midgardian" literature, or at least any that would be for leisure. If she were on Earth...no.

If she were home.

She exasperatedly ran her hands through her hair. God, she missed everything about being on Earth. Her parents probably didn't even know she was alive. What she wouldn't give to see and hug them again, to not be a weremagi, to be normal again. All this time alone with herself, all this time to just sit and think and remember the life she used to have, had made her extremely homesick. She blinked rapidly as a tear slid down her cheek. She tilted her chin down and mumbled into her chest. "I just wanna go home..."

♔   ‘   ﾟ   ‣     {      @weremagitara​​.      }

“You’re okay, Baby. Shh…” Tara leaned back into her pillows to give herself more support, sluggishly stroking Stag’s hair. She wasn’t exactly physically or mentally to be honest ready to deal with a crying child, but she didn’t want Stag to worry any more. She tiredly looked back at Loki, eyes lingering on his face before she let them drift shut. She felt like he was lessening the blow about her appearance. But then again, she did just pull herself out of her own consciousness a few minutes ago, so she probably wasn’t 100% with it right now. Still…she felt a little guilty if she had unknowingly caused any sort of burden to anyone.

Stag’s wails dwindled down to sniffling and small whimpers, but still stayed wrapped around her. “Yeah, there you go. It’s alright, mo-” She froze as she realized she was about to call herself his “mommy.” Her eyes fluttered open to see if he noticed; she had no idea how he would react if she were to call herself his mother, which made her heart ache more for the boy. She didn’t even know why she was going to say that, but she didn’t want to even think about that right now. “I’ve got you… What do you say to Loki for going to get food, huh?��

Stag mumbled something into her shoulder and Tara couldn’t stop a small smirk toying with the corner of her lips. She gently poked him and whispered to him to look at someone when he talks to them. He reluctantly relinquished her neck and turned to find Loki, smearing his hands across his small face to wipe his tears. “Th-thank you King Loki. I’ll watch her while you’re gone.” Her eyes fell closed once more and her grin grew, going back to quietly cuddling the boy.

her  shift  in  demeanor  had  been  all  too  easy  for  the  god  of  lies  to  detect.          and  not  at  all  difficult  for  him  to  estimate  why  when  her  gaze  towards  the  boy  softens  further  before  him.          its  clear  she’s  the  mothering  type.          and  stag  seemed  to  agree,     judging  by  the  fact  he  wanted  absolutely  NO  space  between  them.          he  was  glad,     however,     that  they  had  at  least  settled  in  bed.          tara  surely  needed  to  rest  and  he  wasn’t  about  to  allow  her  to  do  anything  more.

❛            atta  boy.           ❜               loki  presents  a  seemingly  genuine  smile  despite  the  pressing  urgency  that  threatened  his  period  of  contentment.          it  wouldn’t  be  long  though  and  she’ll  have  rested  enough  to  do  some  physical  training  as  well.          he  had  to  admit  he  was  rather  excited  to  see  her  fullest  capabilities.          but  for  now  he  walks  out  towards  the  kitchens  to  fetch  them  some  dinner.