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[center][color=#90F1FF][b]Location:[/b][/color] Underground • [color=#90F1FF][b]Time:[/b][/color] NighT[/center]
[center][color=#90F1FF][b]Interactions: [/b][/color]Tessa - [@Potter][color=#90F1FF][b]Mentions: [/b][/color]Dom - [@Oso][/center]
[center][youtube]https://youtu.be/DYpN8skXeqE?si=OHW0hmw0s1J1O7KW[/youtube][/center]
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[hider=Earlier at The Icebox (Coldfang Den)]Gray fuzzy clouds scattered in his vision as the warm blood dripped from his nose. White-noise drowned out his hearing but could not dull the piercing pain in his blown eardrums. The cold, gray stone of the training room seemed to swirl around him and if there had been anything left in his stomach he might have thrown up once more. A shaky arm and knee where all that kept him from collapsing to the ground.

Despite the overwhelming ache and pain of his injuries, Luther's blank expression showed none of it. Harold Colfang loomed over his son with slightly furrowed brows. His posture straight and perfect as he looked down with a mix of disappointment and contempt. Blood dripped from his fists but none of it was his. [color=00aeef]"Have you been slacking in your training, boy?"[/color] His father's voice was rough and low.

Harold scoffed. [color=00aeef]"At the very least you bear your failure well. It seems I have been lax with your leash."[/color] Luther should have expected such a warm reception when he returned to the pack's den. It was not a surprise that he had gotten upset with his unannounced visit to his mother and the lack of intelligence on the matter regrading Logan's death.

Luther lunged at his father at the comment, his hand shifting so his fingers had sharp claws. The explosiveness of the sudden movement did catch his father off-guard and Luther managed to graze Harold's neck as his father shifted out of the way. The alpha immediately took control of Luther's arm, bending and twisting it until he could no longer move easily. [color=00aeef]"Insolent pup. That is better."[/color] Harold put weight on Luther's arm and it snapped, bone splitting skin with the pressure exerted.

Harold used Luther's shattered arm and flung him to the ground once more, solidifying his position and authority as the alpha of the Coldfangs. [color=00aeef]"One day you shall draw more than a trickle of blood from me, but not today."[/color] His father locked eyes with a Coldfang standing in the glass viewing room and gestured for them to come in. Harold began his slow march out of the room, looking back at his crumbled son. [color=00aeef]"Your independence as a scout for our pack is a gift I can easily take away. I expect a better effort from now on."[/color]

Luther managed to lift himself off the floor just as the pack medic came into the room. All his wounds would be healed in time but it would be cut down with proper treatment. They had been going at this for the better part of the day and he lacked the stamina or energy to do more than groan as the medic began to work. 
[/hider]
Luther rolled his right shoulder still feeling the ache from earlier as he he made his way down. His fingers quickly typing out a message to Tessa before the sound and mass of bodies would make it hard to think:

	[i][color=#90F1FF]"I'm heading to see Vein Theory. Let me know if you head over."[/color][/i]

He planned on keeping his word to Tessa, if only until this situation was resolved. Any mention of his father was purposefully left out, feeling like it was irrelevant. She knew how that song and dance went with him. It was nothing new, he thought. All it would do it make her worry more in the state she was in. The phone was tucked back into the front pocket of his stone-washed jeans.

Truth was he had been always been a rather big fan of Vein Theory and there was no way that he was going to miss this concert. A faint smile crawled onto his lips as he felt the rough, visceral music enter his recently healed ears. The chaotic scene before him was everything he could have hoped for. Luther moved into the room coming after the incident between Vex, Dom, and the unlucky idiot. Sadly, he was not just here to have a good time and drown himself in all the vices to be found. His father had not been entirely wrong. Luther could only act on his own because of the information he brought back and the immediate problem-solving he did in Coldfang's favor.

Luther made his way to the bar, more than glad he decided on a graphic Vein Theory tank top for tonight as he felt the incredible heat from all the people huddled together. It came as more than a small surprise when he spotted Dom briefly as he scanned the crowd and bar patrons. What the hell was he doing here? It really didn't seem like the old man's scene. He order a citrus-flavored pilsner from the bartender, turning his face towards the bar.

Would it have been better to dye his hair for this? Black or red might have been a good shot. It didn't matter now. His drink came and he nearly chugged it down, stopping about halfway down the glass. It was only once it had passed through his throat that its true kick hit him. A faint tingle dancing across his skin.

His thought drifted to earlier as the music hounded his soul and the alcohol fed into his bloodstream. Luther held his drink in is hand and simply stared into the golden liquid. A leash. A collared dog. Trained and groomed to put on a good show. All of the Iron Fangs had been outraged by Logan's death, ready to shred the city apart to find answers. Everyone of the Iron Fangs loyal to him even after his death. It made him reconsider quite a bit, more than he thought it would. There were people he would put his life on the line for, and none of them were Coldfangs. 

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