His siblings news had hardly been as well received as perhaps the gift of life should have. Tetradore had a difficult time enough coping with the knowledge that the two had lain together behind his back, knowing all too well how displeased he might be. In fact, that had known enough to confide within each other that it should be a secret from him, as if it was some sort of game that the two had been playing together. The possibility that Nadya should give birth to such an ill kept relationship had been difficult for him to bare but he had been able to keep his anger beneath the surface â€" mostly. He had taken it upon himself to offer her a facade of indifference, being the best he could muster given all possible things. Her desire for the connection of family, for the feeling of security and safety had been something that he had been willing enough to offer, insisting on walking her home (or rather Isolt's home) regardless. It was only when she had food in her stomach that Tetradore let her retreat to her bedroom and, hopefully, to bed. Despite his recent efforts to have as little to do with his sister as possible, Tetradore found himself still settled within his seat at the table, his emerald eyes drifting over the quiet room.

His gaze settled upon a large bottle shoved in one of the corners, a small, weak simper drifting across his masculine features. He'd remembered plucking the liquor off of the top of Risque's shelves, determined to drink her finest whiskey regardless of her continued efforts to keep him from it. Immediately, Tetradore had fetched the bottle and the glass from the kitchen, returning to the dining room table with the two in hand. He poured himself a rather large glass, more so then any bartender would have, caring little for etiquette or any other such nonsense. Quite frankly, he needed a good stiff drink - or perhaps several of them. He had started sipping on the alcohol nonchalantly enough, occasionally picking up a piece of meat from Nadya's plate that had gone uneaten by the woman. Before Tetradore knew it, however, his desire for a drink had led him to an empty glass and several hours passing before his unseeing eyes.

It was around midnight by the time he was contemplating his current state of misery. His head was leaning forward against the arm on the table, his back hunched slightly as his emerald eyes stared at the glass in his left hand. There was a frown marring his features as he contemplated just how much his life was officially over. He reached out, picking up the bottle and pouring more into the glass then he had intended. It hardly mattered though, he was going to drink it anyways. Briefly, he contemplated leaving them all - just like the girl whom had lived here had, whatever her name was. He was quite certain there would be no one like Isolt to miss him, speaking of the girl she would probably be glad he was gone. Then his sister and his so called best friend could get on with their harem and fucking up their lives however they damn well pleased. It was a tempting proposition - at the very least.