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Entering loudly and perhaps in too brash a fashion; the cat Fa'e swung the door open in one lazy hand and clanged it back shut behind her. It was cold outside, and the refuge of a nice warm fire seemed appealing. Shivering, her skin took a paler shade of peach, and left her looking almost ghost-like. "******** weather." She muttered, hardly leaving any curse words out these days when the opportunity arose.

It seemed that trait had clung too literally to her growingly aggresive personality.

"Hello?" She boomed, removing her big black winter coat and blue scarf. Storming toward the fireplace and taking no notice whatsoever of the teen, she followed his suit and pushed her garments towards the fire, easing them just as close as she could get without them actually catching fire.
"There, they better be nice and warm and all cosy when that thing's done with 'em..."

Having noticed Mikhail, she took the easier approach of ignoring him just for the moment, and striding backwards and forwards between the fireplace and the door to catch warmth.

Keir was somewhat startled to have heard the crimson winged Fa'e to have spoken out. "Excuse me? Don't you think - regretfully - that I was well and truly aware of that?" She didn't mean to be rude to Mikhail, but it was an easier way to induce an introduction.

"...And you are?" She stared putridly at the lost Fa'e with a confused expression. "All these new Fa'e dot up all over the place and I seem to lose track of most of them. Well, most of them usually deserved to be ignored, not worth my time, nor effort. Bloody leeches."

Turning away from him she slid towards the nearby fridge and started to rake with a heightened interest.

"You hungry?"

"I used that leech refrence in a metaphorical sense there. To represent the b*****d who clung to me for so long, sucked everything out of me, and left me with the pain..." Her sarcastic tone was overly evident; "ohh the woe."

Scanning over the entire contents of the fridge she swirled around to face him. His denial of anything to eat put her off the notion entirely, as if not to seem piggish.

"Either do I actually," she lied. "Mikhail."

"I'm Keir." She introduced herself quietly, but in a politier fashion than she'd been previously.

"Hello Mikhail." She replied coolly, sliding away from the fridge with big steps forward. "... Who are you then? All these new Fa'e seem to pop up over the place - are you another child of someone?" Keir giggled; "some Fa'e are so stupid."
"Or are you just -- lost?" She asked sarcastically, approaching him from behind and cautiously admiring his wings.

"You have wings." She noticed in dull tone.

"Eh.. Nice wings." It was a compliment at least, as she raised her guard against the shady figure.

"Sure is er... a ******** travesty of a day... Bloody weather, freezing I am..." Her hands forwarded toward the fireplace, not making eye contact with Mik.

Her tone had brightened somewhat and red flourished to her cheeks. She looked much healthier than the previous month or two, after some strong will and determination saw her drop a stone of weight and an unsightly stomach which had drooped over her pants - (a gift of pregnancy she had proclaimed).
Her new hairstyle still remained intact, the shoulder length jetblack hair and thick bangs covered her forehead. Overall, Keir had really got things together physically - but her mentality and behaviourisms were still as atrocious as ever.

Keir scoffed loudly; "well, make your mind up about who you are then -- Mikhail." She was growing impatient with all this little small chatter. Attempting to be a little nicer only in effort to approach him without any distress or outbursts.

Edging ever so closer, she was tempted to claim the seat as her own, and let silence persue.

"Well, I want you to move your damn a** off of that chair." She quipped back softly, and perhaps not with enough thought.

"I mean... Are you fu--... finished with that chair there Mik?"

The lost Fa'e seemed so distant and different to her. Maybe it was the casting of darkness upon HQ, and the sinister flicker of the fire which brought about her intimidation. She wasn't scared, just cautious for her wellfare currently.

"You're cool though man?"

"What a pity," she scowled back. Her intent upon seating aside the fire, reflected through the burning flicker in her eyes as she gazed dreamily into it. "What a pity," she whispered again, carelessly running fine, bony fingers through her thick strands of chair length, jet black hair. Keir looked at him angrily, "get the ******** up, seriously, you have no idea what kind of s**t I've had to endure."
A burning passion to sit in that seat delivered by her raised voice and intonation, a heightened stress put upon the curses in attempt to tempt the unregistered confidence within her. "Yeah... that's right... you heard me," she reassured herself manically.

"Have you had a kid? Have you lost your love? Screw you. You don't know s**t, you're not the one lost alright." Her lip quivered, steadying it as a tooth slipped out above. It was obvious she was trying to console the mixture of emotions tearing her apart.
"I just can't take this anymore, and the ******** least you can do, is let me ******** sit there," she screamed at him in a temperamental burst of aggression.

The last thing she wanted to do was cry, nobody was meant to see her cry, of all things. Her rapport of badass chic compromised by a threat of swelling eyes, bursting with tears.
Her bony, and poorly nourished physique emphasized as she turned to leave; and chart her way back toward the entrance, meek shadows flickering after her. She turned around at him, just dead on, and stared at him; her face lit up by the emitting light of the fire. Mascara run, skin dry, and lips bleeding - a tragic case by any means, all the life and drive within her sucked out by her lonely inhibitions.

Mikhail certainly seemed less lost to her.