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Description
Trent had a great time with his pack mates. As he strolled the hotel they havened in, he went out of his way to ensure that they had just as interesting a time as he did.
Cinder wasn’t always fun to fluster. He’d snap sometimes, his flesh writhe and twist, and Trent would bail before the pack priest decided to EAT him. But other times, it felt like Cinder…understood him to a certain extent. Well, they had a lot of the same tastes, anyway.
From Cinder he’d go and bother Amy. Amy was so easy to annoy it was almost no challenge. All he had to do was invade her space, exchange clever quips(she did SO enjoy those) and flounce out of her room with another article of her clothing. She was too busy ignoring his existence to ever care what he did when he left.
Raven was hard to interact with. At some points Trent had to wonder if the poor pack leader even knew HOW to socialize on a significant level. All he ever did was listen to music and talk in hushed tones to Amy. And yell at Cinder. And get on Trent for when he did something out of the norm and unsanctioned. Ah, well.
Honey had made leaps and bounds with Trent recently. Before, Honey had just been someone who pissed him off to no end and needed to be stuck through and slowly pulled along till her skin peeled off like cheese grating and thoroughly dipped in a caustic fluid till it sizzled and baked only to be doused in gasoline and set ablaze.
But recently they had reached a development that Trent wasn’t looking forward to that as much as he used to. Not that it wouldn’t be funny. Tearing away her physical form till it matched the raw, unbridled mess that lie beneath the blonde animal-woman.
SHI was…well, more or less harder to interact with than Raven. For a lot of the same reasons. But SHI tended to look at him with emotion, expression, and he understood what Trent alluded to in innuendos and such. Trent wondered if he ever got under SHI’s skin. He certainly hoped so.
Maverick, Rowe, and Fiona were new to Trent, and he was looking forward to getting to know them on a more…intimate level. So far, Maverick seemed to be a bit more loose than the others. Rowe was only interested in hitting things and whining. Fiona, well…she typed. A lot. Seemed the thinker type. Which was exhilarating in it’s own way, the quiet ones were the ones to watch out for.
Which brought him to Whitacre. The resident occult specialist (Trent didn’t know his clan.) was a bit of a conundrum. He was silent, cold, calculating, everything Trent could respect and envy. At the same time he was callous, he would KILL anyone to ensure his own survival, and he could care less about the rest of them. The monster in Trent saw him more of a threat than an asset. Whitacre would stoop to any level if it was what was ‘necessary’, and while that was an admirable trait in Trent’s eyes, for one could never get TOO attached to anything, it made Whitacre unpredictable, unapproachable, untrustworthy. Trent wanted to know what made him tick. To control the X factor that was the gray-eyed wizard. (He was pretty sure he was onto something, he just needed to test it.)
Melony was…interesting. He didn’t know what she wanted. She seemed amiable to Whitacre, willing to assist against foes, and interested in Amy’s development seeing as though they were the same clan. She had some history with the Shadow Steps, but beyond Cinder’s ranting Trent knew very little. He wanted to delve into her head as eagerly as she had into his pack’s. Ah, well. Patience and all that.
There was always something new. Something grand to be found amongst his pack mates. They never left him bored, and all in all, gave him a great amount of sport whilst he flitted about them, night after night.

Description
Trent had a great time with his pack mates. As he strolled the hotel they havened in, he went out of his way to ensure that they had just as interesting a time as he did.
Cinder wasn’t always fun to fluster. He’d snap sometimes, his flesh writhe and twist, and Trent would bail before the pack priest decided to EAT him. But other times, it felt like Cinder…understood him to a certain extent. Well, they had a lot of the same tastes, anyway.
From Cinder he’d go and bother Amy. Amy was so easy to annoy it was almost no challenge. All he had to do was invade her space, exchange clever quips(she did SO enjoy those) and flounce out of her room with another article of her clothing. She was too busy ignoring his existence to ever care what he did when he left.
Raven was hard to interact with. At some points Trent had to wonder if the poor pack leader even knew HOW to socialize on a significant level. All he ever did was listen to music and talk in hushed tones to Amy. And yell at Cinder. And get on Trent for when he did something out of the norm and unsanctioned. Ah, well.
Honey had made leaps and bounds with Trent recently. Before, Honey had just been someone who pissed him off to no end and needed to be stuck through and slowly pulled along till her skin peeled off like cheese grating and thoroughly dipped in a caustic fluid till it sizzled and baked only to be doused in gasoline and set ablaze.
But recently they had reached a development that Trent wasn’t looking forward to that as much as he used to. Not that it wouldn’t be funny. Tearing away her physical form till it matched the raw, unbridled mess that lie beneath the blonde animal-woman.
SHI was…well, more or less harder to interact with than Raven. For a lot of the same reasons. But SHI tended to look at him with emotion, expression, and he understood what Trent alluded to in innuendos and such. Trent wondered if he ever got under SHI’s skin. He certainly hoped so.
Maverick, Rowe, and Fiona were new to Trent, and he was looking forward to getting to know them on a more…intimate level. So far, Maverick seemed to be a bit more loose than the others. Rowe was only interested in hitting things and whining. Fiona, well…she typed. A lot. Seemed the thinker type. Which was exhilarating in it’s own way, the quiet ones were the ones to watch out for.
Which brought him to Whitacre. The resident occult specialist (Trent didn’t know his clan.) was a bit of a conundrum. He was silent, cold, calculating, everything Trent could respect and envy. At the same time he was callous, he would KILL anyone to ensure his own survival, and he could care less about the rest of them. The monster in Trent saw him more of a threat than an asset. Whitacre would stoop to any level if it was what was ‘necessary’, and while that was an admirable trait in Trent’s eyes, for one could never get TOO attached to anything, it made Whitacre unpredictable, unapproachable, untrustworthy. Trent wanted to know what made him tick. To control the X factor that was the gray-eyed wizard. (He was pretty sure he was onto something, he just needed to test it.)
Melony was…interesting. He didn’t know what she wanted. She seemed amiable to Whitacre, willing to assist against foes, and interested in Amy’s development seeing as though they were the same clan. She had some history with the Shadow Steps, but beyond Cinder’s ranting Trent knew very little. He wanted to delve into her head as eagerly as she had into his pack’s. Ah, well. Patience and all that.
There was always something new. Something grand to be found amongst his pack mates. They never left him bored, and all in all, gave him a great amount of sport whilst he flitted about them, night after night.