Michael was not an old hybrid by any means – but he’d lived a full life as a witch, longer than he deserved he’d think, and now that he was a hybrid, he didn’t really know where his life was going to go now. He knew that he would continue to serve Ryan to the best of his ability, and provide the support he could to the pack members that they’d already taken in and the ones that they would take in much later in life. He also knew that becoming a hybrid was probably the best thing that could have happened to him. Were he still a witch, he just knew that he’d be bitter and angry at the world – and angry at what he was, as well. Weak, pathetic, and incapable of enacting the revenge he had planned for the demon that had taken everything away from him.
Who knew the path that he’d be on if he hadn’t become a hybrid? Would he have turned to darker magic? Hit the bottle more and die at an early age due to alcohol poisoning? Michael had never given it much thought. It’d never been brought up. That entailed living in the past, and the past was not a place he wanted to be. It was the here and the now, and the future he had to look forward to. He was happy now, at least; he hadn’t been happy when he was still a witch. All that pain and heartbreak he endured, he wouldn’t wish it on anyone in the world. It wasn’t like him to wish harm on anyone, actually, but sometimes the hybrid part of him became too oppressing, too loud for him to ignore. He was a predator now, after all. He’d been a mortal for a couple decades, and he was sure it’d take longer than that to get used to being a predator.
Michael tried to remain calm whenever he dealt with someone who was new, and/or new to the pack. It wasn’t a wise idea to get all riled up – he knew what being new was like. The overwhelming hunger alone was enough to drive a person batshit, if they weren’t already that way. By now it was a safe bet, he thought, to think that someone had to be at least a little crazy in order to be a hybrid – but then again he thought the same of vampires, too.
“You’ll get used to that quick, living in the city,” he said, smiling, but withholding the chuckle that tickled the back of his throat, “But take solace in the fact that it’s generally quiet here. Usually.” It comforted him to know that, at least – but he also knew that there were those within the pack that could get out of hand easily if they weren’t careful.
Michael had stopped about the middle of the stairs – wow really? Usually Michael was stuck with that kind of thing, especially if Ryan was busy with something else, yet he didn’t say anything to suggest any of that. He turned, then, shortly after the new guy began telling him what he had to say, and then Michael said, “I can do that. Now, these places you’re not supposed to go,” he began descending the stairs again, coming up on Trinity’s shoulder a few inches to the side, “Would it be a wise idea to tell you them? You might just get tempted to check them out for yourself.” He sounded completely serious before cracking a smile. He put his hand on Trinity’s shoulder, then, patting it as he said, “There is only one place that you’re not supposed to go, and that is a personal place of Ryan’s. I’ll show you where it is, but best not try to take a peek, hmm? That gets back to Ryan and he’ll have my head.”
Michael started leading the way, waiting a moment for Trinity to follow before showing him to the kitchen first. “This is the kitchen, as you’ve probably guessed,” standard as kitchens go, everything was where you thought it might be, and he told Trinity this, “Pretty self-explanatory. Dishes, pots, pans, glasses, etc. are all in the cabinets, food in the fridge as well as the pantry, and laundry room is down the hall. You’re welcome to do the laundry of your own personal items like shirts, pants, underwear, socks and the like, but I will take care of the sheets, towels and blankets for your room.” He’d explain before leading him towards a hall which he did not go down, “This is where Ryan has his private area. I recommend not going down here at all except to use the laundry room, which is the first room to the right.” He stood outside of it, actually, and pointed inside, “Multiple washers, multiple dryers, otherwise I’d be doing laundry all day, which is pretty much how it works anyway.”
“I do try to keep things nice here. Keep the place clean, and it generally makes people happier,” he’d say, leading Trinity to the back door, which he’d not go out of, “Out there is the garden,” he’d say, pointing, and then he’d lead Trinity back to the kitchen, “That about wraps it up. Random, eh? What sounds like something you’d want to do? What are your interests or hobbies? Do they even allow that kind of thing in the circus?” He stifled back another chuckle, merely out of respect.
And then Trinity asked Michael how long he’d been a hybrid, to which he replied, “For about twenty years, give or take. Honestly I kind of just stumbled into it you might say. I was a witch before this.” He hoped Trinity wouldn’t ask too many questions – but he was a new guy, and as a new guy, he was curious about his pack mates. It was only natural.