Cobain was never a happy child in life, his laughter always a huffed and hollow thing, and so it almost makes sense that the ebony haired vampire should also be miserable and hateful in death. Risque offered the ghostly child with locks of midnight and dark earthen eyes a new chance at life, of course, it was under her control. Most would jump at the chance at immortality, their fear of death so strong that they would accept such a gift no matter the price, but Cobain would just as rather be dead. He first had to obey his father, and now, things were just as bad with Risque. If give the chance, he would kill her, and every single one that follows her: himself included.

If Cobain could be grateful, the pale vampire would be grateful he has been able to spend a large amount of his time outside of Risque's company. But even then, in the back of his mind, he knew he would have to return to his mistress with just the quietest of callings or when his task would be completed. She had a hold on him that Cobain believes he will never be able to shake loose. Even if he did, he knows still that would not make him happy. The only thing that could givee him would be the freedom to die a long over due death.

His expression was always a mixture of boredom and irritation. Even when he had looked upon the childish form of Tetradore, he had not been phased by the way the boy had been treated. He watched Risque and others torture that poor boy and Cobain had seen the panther child slowly turn from a scared little cub, into something hardened and weathered and tried. While Cobain simply took Risques next order and moved on. What was Tetradore to him? Nothing but a nuisance and another cat that his mistress has taken under her. But, they are more a like than the dark haired vampire will ever give credit for.

"I can always remind you," he says, turning to Tetradore, practically feeling the panther's heart. beat under his skin. One bite is all it would take. But Tetradore was 'special' and Cobain knew his fangs would never pierce his skin unless she told him to. "Dont you want to know that feeling again? The weightlessness of me controlling your actions?" He says, those fangs barely poking through as he speaks, opening and closing his mouth. It was a pleasant feeling another once told him, the feeling of knowing your life is no longer in your hands. But how terrible they felt when it turns out the demon child didn't plan on keeping their life for long before he would squash it shut, letting their light run out.

As he grabs that glass, looking away from Tetradore, he can hardly fathom anything aside from the taste of blood on his lips. He hated the liquid as much as he craved the metallic taste. The obsidian haired vampire realizes that Tetradore has grown, aged, he was man, even Cobain thought he could still see the shivering child just below his skin. A child that was never allowed to grow up. In so many ways, ways that Cobain nor Tetradore will ever care to admit, they are more alike than they may think. Each of them had been so young when Risque had gotten them, Cobain a teenager and Tetradore a little pre teen boy. Neither had been allowed to truly grow up the way they ought to have. "Yes, I have Risque to thank for that," he says with almost a growl burying in his throat. The demon child turns away from the were king then, content to end the conversing, there was nothing to gain here. There would never be friendship between these boys, even despite the amount of torture each had endured under their mistress, and maybe that is why, Risque has damaged them beyond repair.

Obsidian haired Cobain thinks this is the end of it, the boys would sit in their silence until no doubt Tetradore eventually left and Cobain would then stalk the night, searching for the ones Risque wished to pay the ultimate price, or maybe he would find some poor soul he could drain the blood of, his thirst never satisfied. But, fate never really could allow Cobain to get his way it would seem. Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard and it sets all of Cobain's nerves on fire. And then he feels a hand suddenly against his back and those eyes glower an even deeper red, setting his teeth on edge. Darcy, the prick. He looks at the man with his typical look of disinterest and boredom. He hated this man as much, well maybe not as much, but close to, as Risque. Perhaps, being stuck in the body of a teen had caused him some of this brooding angst and Darcy and Risque played the part of the demanding parents that Cobain could give a rat's ass about.

"About as peculiar as you two," he says before locking eyes with Darcy. "I think you could do better Risque. You really should go after someone younger," he says, perhaps insinuating himself but only because he wants to piss Darcy off and get under his skin. Eyes briefly glance to the panther before returning to Risque and then facing away from them once more.

Clearly, Cobain was not in the mood to socialize.