It had only been a few days ago that he had sat on Hazel's floor, reading idly to her as she sprawled on the bed above him and peered at the words over his head, and brought up Oni. He'd noticed the shift in his Fireball's mood since his werewolf genes had kicked in, had been keeping an eye on him whilst trying to figure out when he needed to say something, and was relieved to hear that Hazel had picked up on it, too. The kid was practically his little brother, and he'd known him his entire life — Bast felt like it should be easier to sit him down for a heart to heart, given the circumstances.

Now, though, as he followed him from the little scene at the border with their newcomer, Bastille found himself vaguely relieved when he glanced over his shoulder and saw Hazel following. He slowed his pace slightly to let her catch up, offering a quick nod in acknowledgement, before he was moving forward a bit faster once more to call, [b]"Hey, On, wait up."

[ [member=1268]ONISION.[/member] [member=500]★ HAZEL[/member] ]

[B]ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — [color=#e2e2e2]TAGS — [color=#e2e2e2]MOODBOARD — [color=#e2e2e2]PLAYLIST

ONISION M.F.
FIREBALL && ASCENDANTS
TAGS

Hazel tried not to get into everyone's business; she didn't have the authority. She knew that. And most days, she was pretty good about it. Unless it was Margaery, Suiteheart or Bastille, Hazel felt little responsibility for other people's personal lives. Partly because it was too much to keep up with, and partly because it...literally wasn't her place. Until something put other people in danger.

Which sounded like a hero anthem, honestly, and not at all up Hazel's alley. But it was watching people get away with things they shouldn't that irritated her; like hurting someone. Hazel just wanted to stop it before it escalated further. She couldn't say that she wasn't scared of following Oni and his living wake of anger, because she was terrified. She'd heard that he'd ripped apart an innocent person in a frenzy, so...yeah, she was terrified. But she also got that the kid needed some sort of outlet - a safe outlet - for his anger. She'd dealt with anger before; Titanium's anger was raw and bitter and fierce, but never primal. Just vengeance-driven. So Hazel had brought up Oni's temper to Bastille, wondering if he'd do something about it.

At the younger fireball's smart remark, Hazel felt a brief shock of panic at the word girlfriend, but decided that wasn't the object at hand. "No." She sighed, struggling to push away the quiver in her voice. Golden optics glanced sideways at Bastille, not knowing quite what he was planning on saying. "We're worried about you, Oni." And that was true; she was worried. Anger was exhausting and more dangerous than a live wire. She didn't want Oni getting in to more trouble than he intended because of something he couldn't control.