"what'd'ya want?" torin grumbled from his workbench, spinning around in his seat. a cigarette dangled from his lips, a bottle of near-empty booze in his hands. he had a rough day; his mother berating him for the last shipment of weapons that was picked up, a few choice words with his older brother, gabriel and of course, his younger sister, lyssa's, bad attitude.

he didn't want company. right now, he just wanted to be left alone to his work; he'd started work on modifying gabe's twin pistols. he couldn't have you breaking his groove, his muse. to put it simply, he was in his zone. so why on earth were you interrupting him and his shit day?

"c'mon," he practically barked, waving his hand up at you, "got something to say or you just gonna stand there?" he rolled his chair over to you, giving your wrist a sharp yank to make you eye-level with him, "ain't got all day, sweetheart. might as well spit it out."

okay, yeah. he was being a dick. more so than usual. torin could be kind, soft-spoken, empathetic— but get him in a sour mood? there was hell to pay. he could apologize to you; later.