Abraxas has not been a delight or a joy to be around. No one's ever accused him of being vivacious company, but for the past few weeks he's been an unholy terror. Oh, he doesn't have tantrums. He's not one for drunken sprees or outward displays of emotion. He's too controlled for that. What he is more than capable of is nitpicking everyone around him into the ground. AC had brought him blood and he had been such an ass she'd grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and slammed him down on his back hard enough to break the coffee table and said 'That'll do, pig. That'll do.' then told him to clean up his own mess and get his own damned blood.

He'd apologized and after that simply retreated from the others as much as they would allow. There was no sense in dragging other people into his whirling moods. He's been working on building his walls and restoring his control since being turned. They still aren't where they used to be, but he's getting a little more comfortable.

At least until he hears his wayward eremenos come through the door. Then the emotions rush up at him: want, need, care, love, frustration, fear, desire, home. All of the above. He folds them away neatly, maybe not as neatly as before, but better than he would have a few weeks ago.

"How was school?" He asks lightly from his seat in the darkness.