“You were one of those kids that had to touch a few stoves before the point stuck, weren’t you? ”There was a tightness in his throat that felt annoyingly close to sympathy at the other man’s words and he rolled his eyes at him. “It’s going to get old one of these days. Might want to get a hobby . Take up bird watching or something. Lot of problems traced back to having too much free time.” That sounded like it came from experience.
“Was going in there anyway. Have to get all of this back to the museum once we’re finished.” Honestly, it was looking more and more like he wouldn’t be catching both Parts of that double feature he’d been planing on seeing. Álvaro watched Huxley eyeing the box from the corner of his eye, a mischievous curl to his lips. “I’d be careful with that, if I were you. Last two people who dropped her were found dead in their houses within a month.” Not entirely false...For the original doll, back at the museum and not the replica housed in the box along with the various odds and ends that had decorated the booth but...Details. “Know it, they left a note and a gift. Surprised they didn’t put a bow on him too. ” His lips pressed into a thin line, expression thoughtful. The younger vampire was a bouncer and this clearly wasn’t his first time around a body. “How well do you know knives?”
"It's not about the point sticking. It's about touching the necessary stoves to get the point across." Hux explained, not sure if the idiom had become too complicated. "A hobby", he repeated. "What are your hobbies? I don't think I've ever had a hobby. I just sleep a shit ton whenever I'm not eating or working." The younger man realized. There had never been time for a hobby. Could he give himself some time for one now?
He looked up from the box, staying very still with the thing in his hands. "You have a bomb in here? Poisonous gas? Venom? A deadly spider?" Huxley said in a list of guesses that sounded too comical with the seriousness he was talking. His expression became actually serious when the topic changed back to the body. "So why you? Were you directly involved with them at some point?", he asked. "Very well. Are we talking fighting, dismembering or...?" eyebrows raised, "used to be a cleaner for a couple of ex-bosses; exterminator-slash-cleaner."
A team. Two simple words, and still, they seemed to stir something just behind her ribcage, it's fluttering a distant comfort to the dancer. An almost involuntary smile began to tug at her painted lips at the reminder that her brother had managed to find a connection like that. "Yeah... they do make a good team, don't they? A united front," she agreed, something loosening in her chest at the idea, especially for a sibling of hers that had fought so hard to earn even the smallest bit of peace. As the designated peacekeeper and protector among her family, it was something that she deeply wished for all of her siblings to find: that sense of tranquility and belonging. Seeing it become a reality for Cyrek felt like a milestone for all of them. Pulled out of her sentimental reverie by the question, Freya turned a surprise look on the man. "Me? No, I'm not part of the gang. I'm one of Cy's younger sisters. One of the triplets, to be exact—I know there are a lot of us," she clarified with an easy-going laugh. "Well, I've got a pretty big extended family, so I've been to my fair share of weddings. They tend to reflect the couple you're celebrating, which these two have seemingly taken to new heights," she remarked with a affectionately teasing lilt to her voice, gesturing in the general direction of the couples' more gothic and macabre choice of wedding decor, a no-brainer for the pair. "How do you know Cyrek and Stella?"
A hum of acknowledgment in agreement was all the woman got from the shared though about the couple. A server passed by and so, he emptied the drink just to leave the glass and grab a full one. At the revelation about the family bonds, Hux looked over at her one more time. He didn't know Cyrek had family, well, he must've heard it at some point, but he was also someone that didn't get involved much aside of the necessary with his peers. "Didn't know he had sisters." was his statement. "So how many of you are out there and... why so many?" A question that was borderline invasive, even slightly offensive by the tone, but there was no ill-intention just a flaw of being tone-deaf during conversations from time to time. "Are you married?" Another invasive question. "Has every wedding you've been to thematic or is it not that common? I just knew about the ones with the white dress and the church." Feeling a little more relaxed, his posture stopped being so stiff. "I'm part of the gang. Nothing important, just grunt work."4
( cyrek and stella's wedding, june 10, 6:30 p.m. ) @boneyardstarters
Hands absently fussing with the ruffle details along the edges of the soft pink, form fitting dress adorning her figure, Freya scanned the gathering crowds with wide brown eyes. Though she was well accustomed to being the center of attention in her line of work, the same couldn't be said for the burlesque dancer when she was off duty. When she didn't have a stage persona to hide behind, the brunette was more at home observing and clinging to the walls of parties than chatting up strangers, and her brother's wedding was certainly no exception. Still, she was among family and friends here, all coming together to celebrate Cyrek and Stella. The least she could do was mingle, even if it meant introducing herself to new people. Taking a steadying breath and squaring her shoulders, Freya grabbed a glass of champagne off a nearby serving tray and gestured over to the happy couple. "They're lovely together, aren't they? They just... look like they fit, you know? Like... they make sense as a pair." she mused to the person next to her, a tentative smile gracing her features. "Sorry, I've just been watching those two slowly come together over the last several years. Make me extra sappy on a day like this. Then again, I'm a romantic. I'm sure I would've been sappy even if I didn't know them."
Unless there was physical conflict involved, Huxley didn't have the need to feel the protagonist. In fact, in situations like this one, he was very much good on the sides, watching everybody do their thing, whether that was dancing, eating or interacting in some kind of way. His clothes were definitely off the norm for him, but he couldn't help to feel very secretly excited about the finesse of the tailoring done just for him. A silky black shirt with lace decoration sat gently over his torso and under the carefully embroidered jacket in tones black and boysenberry. His own champagne danced in the fine glass as he swirled it slowly, mindlessly, more like a fidgeting action than anything, his eyes lost into nothingness as he digressed into the past, into some happy memories from his childhood. It must have been the unconscious little smile on his lips that made him look approachable. "Hm?" he blinked twice at the voice and immediately looked over to Mr. and Mrs. Boss. Hux had never really thought about it, how Cyrek and Stella were simply meant to be; for him it was mostly a matter of work, while he recognized the incredible synergy of the two as working partners and a couple, there was never a deeper thought about it. "Lovely..." he repeated as if tasting the word, but it felt alien on his tongue, "they're a good team for sure." Much better. Her remark about being present in the couple's life for a while now made him look her way with eyes only, head staying on the spot. "Ain't part of the gang, are you?" he questioned. Eyes back to the couple. "I've never been to a wedding before. Didn't really know what to expect. This seems... on brand for them."
The comment probably hadn’t been intended as comedy, but the understatement of it still managed to pull a huff of laughter and an amused shake of his head. “You always this helpful? You should be careful or someone will take advantage.” Case and point, Álvaro’s brows furrowed, considering. Despite the current situation, he usually preferred not to mix business with pleasure, his weekend schedule cleared to be present for the festival but if it was being offered then surely there was something that could use an extra pair of hands- “…Let's wrap this up and I'll let you know.”
The box in his hands was pushed at his companion, the better to wrap an arm around the dearly departed and hoist the body into a fireman's carry. Hux was right, after all, they'd lingered long enough, sitting ducks regardless of whether there were truly any hunters about. "How'd you get here? Might want to throw your bike on the back of the truck, if you brought it. Wouldn't put our friends above trying to make some modifications, since they're feeling generous today."
"Had that happening before." Huxley mentioned after the initial statement; oh, he definitely knew about being used, about being treated like a mere dog and then thrown out when he was of no use any longer and still... "but I try to make myself useful for the community that accepts me. Them and no one else." ...like a mere dog he always came back with his tail between his legs. "Not like I have many things going on anyways. Too much free time when not needed."
Alvaro made a good point about the bike. "Makes sense, thank you. I'll go get it. Can I leave the box in the van?", he asked while looking down at it and peeking a little closer as if trying to guess what it contained with a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "Do you think our guy was set up crudely for specifically you to find him?"
nadine + ??? : may 25, mid evening @ riveria casino & hotel
@boneyardstarters
observing the crowd, nadine hadn't yet decided if she was partaking in any bets. she enjoyed studying her surroundings before she made any definite choice, which is why she was otherwise engaged in people watching as the event occurred around her; patrons dancing on the warm-lit floors, humming with conversation in every spare corner, hollering while looming over blackjack and poker tables. and then there was nadine: stone-faced, shoulders squared, looking like a vision of death in her black, asymmetrical silk-beaded dress. she'd pulled it out of storage, a relic of a time long since forsaken by the dazzling starlet, only because she couldn't find the time to go shopping for an event she wasn't even certain she'd attend until she was sitting, alone, in her living room and decided what the hell. she wasn't regretting it yet, but she knew it was simply a matter of time before she was either bored to exhaustion or forced out by some other force. likely the increasingly irritable and hot-headed attendants who were betting their livelihoods on red or black. she found it stupid and entertaining, which she was quick to voice to a passerby: "who should i bet on: the guy in the three piece suit or the one going against him in a cowboy hat?" she spoke up, a crooked grin on her glossy lips as she cocked her head sideways at the stranger. "normally i always go underdog, but i think cowboy over there is just being obnoxious."
Another round. More people. Crowds were not his favorite, but he could handle them for sure. He was not a fan of sneaking and hiding, but groups of people would always be the best option to do it. His security guard uniform was also pretty useful to keep himself hidden, just another tasteless decoration at the eyes of the guests, a decoration whose job was to keep everybody safe or at least make sure no drunkard attempted to punch a slot machine open after losing yet another paycheck. People had become blurs by now, just faceless entities that passed by swaying or bumping against him. Didn't matter until someone decided to notice him and gift him some words, a question... an opinion? Hux stopped on his tracks and looked over at the figure all dressed in black like one of those niche goth dolls that hit the alt stores every now and then. "Hm?" he looked over to the participants, the cowboy obnoxious, yes, the other guy slightly pretentious, too cocky maybe. He leaned a little towards the girl to mutter "the cowboy's accent is fake", he pointed out, "and the other guy's suit still has the rental's tag." A hum of consideration. "I'd still go for the guy with the suit. Dunno much about card games, though."
@boneyardstarters ; open starter !
date: may 25, 1996
location: riviera casino and hotel
if it had been up to him, he would have remained at home, tucked beneath the hush of dimmed lights and familiar walls, where the world could not touch him. home, where silence reigned, and no one could demand anything of him. but choices had a way of slipping through his fingers when certain voices called, and so he’d come, not out of desire, certainly not to belong, but to stop the nagging. couldn’t they see? he didn’t want to be seen. he only ever wanted to be left alone. the casino was too much from the moment he stepped inside; all grandeur, a theatre of indulgence that made his skin itch. too bright. too loud. too full of people who laughed too freely, like they’d never had to think about breathing. the drink that had been pressed into his hand earlier hung there still, cradled by tattooed fingers, as if it might anchor him. it didn’t. it only pooled bitterly in his stomach, unhelpful and vaguely nauseating, like everything else tonight. seokmin did not belong here. and the room knew it. it exhaled wealth in suits worth double his rent, expensive perfumes and trails of smoke that unfurled in lazy plumes of arrogance. he coughed. once. then again, harsher — lungs clenching like fists. peeling himself from his post along the wall, he moved through the crowd in search of a way out. a pocket of clean air — that was what he needed. a minute of stillness. but the path ahead? blocked. a figure stood still before him, likely oblivious; with no space to slip past. he stopped. swallowed. and spoke, “move,” the please was lodged somewhere in his chest, trapped beneath ribs that wouldn’t rise like they should. if he could have spared the air, he would have given it.
Very few times has the boss been so strict regarding the rules and measures that all the security personnel should keep. Hux was annoyed, but he understood; the families were here, the cactus cats were here, everybody was here! The amount of people was enough to keep him entertained. Any kind of mishap could cost him his job and for the first time in months, Bastian Huxley started to consider that being a security guard for a casino was not as easy as he thought it would and oh, if he could only know what was to come.
He stood stoic guard near one of the doors limited to staff access, taking advantage of the location to loosen the knot of his tie and undo one suffocating button from his uniform; ah~ much better. He noticed a figure of the same size sleazing their way away from the crowd until it reached him and muttered what seem a meek order. An eyebrow raised in awe as he looked down looking for the eyes of the other to confirm if it was drunken bravado, status or stupidity the reason behind the single word.
"This door is off-limits", the vampire established with deep voice and flat tone. The uneasiness of the other didn't went past him and mostly motivated to avoid some kind of short-lived drama, the security guard dropped a little sigh. "You're looking sick. Need any help?" A simple way of speaking for sure, maybe a bit too risky to talk with such cordiality without knowing shit about the person in front of him.
“Are we girlfriends now? When was the last time I called you to chit chat?” Despite the sarcasm, most of the ire had leeched out of his voice, replaced with a begrudging approval. Intent to improve would always be better than an apology, even if they hopefully never found themselves in this particular situation again. He hadn’t thought Huxley the type to be squeamish but the flat thoroughness of the answer still left him glancing sidelong at his cohort, biting back the myriad of questions he wanted to ask. Instead, he filed that particular bit of information away, after all one never know who or what might come in handy later.
“Who do you think is going to be looking for him? He’s a gambler, not a politician. Family hasn’t talked to him in years, girlfriend dumped him. You can just see how much his bosses cared about him.” Álvaro chuckled to himself, giving a slight shake of his head. Still, the other vampires caution did had a certain merit, the warning hadn’t exactly been subtle. Was the Weiss family above getting the cops involved to try and pin this on them? “...Hands off” Came the agreement and after a moment of pause he added. “Head off too. Buried separately.. I’m not filling a dead body with yogurt but cutting him open isn’t a bad idea. The scavengers will be on him in an hour or two, have the body stripped in a few days.”
There was no further response to the question, even Huxley identified the sarcasm and recognized that pushing on the matter wouldn't be a good idea. His past doings had given him a good amount of experience of handling the dirty jobs for his superiors; this was not a new thing for and he was unfortunately desensitized about the matter at this point.
"I don't know much about politics here, but I know the Weiss family ain't the best, hm? Probably dirtier than we are", Hux commented. "Better be safe than dead, I guess". He gave a decisive nod to the other's orders. "Sounds good. Let's get the body on the car then, the sooner, the better. Need help with anything else after I'm done with this?"
“…Donuts.” Álvaro pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long, pointed exhale. “Should I offer to buy you ice cream next time so you’ll get the lead out?” Really, this was his own fault- he hadn’t requested brains with his brawn. While Bastian bent to study the dearly departed, his gaze shifted back to the crowd as it had done dozen of times at this point. Still nothing but a general sense of unease and no hard evidence of something amiss. Perhaps he was being paranoid. “You don’t recognize him? But he came to all our book club meetings.” He chuckled, nudging the body with the toe of his boot. “Owes us money…Or owed it , I suppose.” A shoulder lifted in a shrug and he opened his mouth to inform the younger man that he’d had a spot in the Mojave picked out for Keith for weeks now but, much like the cat, curiosity was going to be the death of him. “…Just how creative were you thinking? Got at least another hour of sunlight, so I hope you're not expecting stealth."
He stared up at the collector in silence during the sarcastic question. "You were vague during the call. Urgency was not clear, but now I know that's how you communicate emergencies." There was not much of emotion behind his voice, it was genuine acknowledgment of the situation and to some extent, accountability for the tardiness.
"Hm" A sound of confirmation regarding the identity of the body in front of them. At the question of the other, Huxley lowered his voice a little, leaning in closer for discretion. "I don't do stealth. Hands and teeth off to complicate identification, filling the body with yoghurt would accelerate decomposition and a vertical grave would be pretty much unidentifiable for aerial searches. Should I add the trick of adding a dead animal on top to mislead search efforts?"
When: April 21st, approx. 6:30 P.M
Where: Weekend of horrors booths
With: Bastian @thvnderr
Dracula didn't have to deal with this shit.
Álvaro was willing to bet cold, hard cash that none of the movies airing that weekend had included a scene where the vampire had to make half a dozen calls to summon helpers, let alone sat around waiting for them to turn up. The phone call had, out of necessity, been vague; the impression that something had happened and that it might be pertinent to have some extra muscle on hand. Clearly, it hadn’t instilled a sense of urgency about the matter.
The crowds had thinned enough that his fellow cactus cat was easy to spot and he was on his feet even before Bastian reached what remained of the booth, clapping a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Took you long enough.” Complaint voiced, he steered his unfortunate partner towards the back of the table and the body that was hidden in plain sight amongst the fliers and display items. After all, who would expect a real body amongst all the fake guts and gore? “Not my work. Had it hand delivered, courtesy of the Weiss family.” The grip on the other vampire’s shoulder loosened as he reached down to grab one of the boxes waiting to be stowed away. “Grab that for me, will you? My trucks not too far from here.”
Opposed to the past, Huxley was not looking forward to connect much with his coworkers; so when the phone rang, he just stared at it for a hot minute. Pink donut in one hand, duty calling on the other. Well, it was Alvaro, not Cy or Stella... how much was he risking getting kicked out if he didn't answer?
"Yah?"
Soon enough ( or not, according to the debt collector ), the grunt was arriving while wiping his hand clean on the black pants. "Free themed donuts at the casino", that was his only answer to the lack of punctuality. He didn't know what to expect, honestly, so when he was redirected to the body on the table, he hummed a simple "Hm". Not his first body, unfortunately, but he really expected less of this when he joined the Cactus Cats. "Do we know the person?" the young one asked as he looked around the body trying to recognize the face. He ben down to pick another one of the boxes before giving another look to the body. "Do we have a site for disposal or is it time to get creative?"
where: downtown vegas, just outside the weekend of horrors
heather was no stranger to nightmares, but they had been a particularly annoying occurrence in the past year or so. her already short sleeping hours were cut drastically, and this night, that meant leaving home in the morning looking like the dead with a half packed bag. now, almost done with work for the day, her finger itched for something. she had a pack of her clover cigarettes (the only kind that didn't make her stomach churl with memories of her father, but rather the smell of her grandmother's old couch and curtains), but unfortunately no lighter. with a sigh, heather walked on the edges of the fair, trying to find anyone else still lingering, and moving closer to the first person she saw. "hey, do you have a light?"
Hux should've learned by now that his lack of communication is not a good boundary setter; specially when an old lady is looking for someone to move boxes from her stall to a van. Unable to fight the grandma's relentless conviction (and a bag of sugar cookies), the Cactus Cat started carrying the boxes as instructed. He was closing the vehicle's trunk when a voice made him turn. Huxley stared at the woman for an uncomfortable length of around five seconds, because he never repaired on discretion whenever he's studying people. No words, he just pulled out the lighter and offered it to her. "Afterwards, he immediately. "You worked at the uh... horror thing?" Yeah, horror thing or whatever is called.
@boneyardstarters
Location: Weekend of Horror Booths
Date: April 27, Afternoon
Cap: ♾️
It had been such a long and exhausting weekend. He just wasn't finding the joy he usually would have in these kinds of things, which made it all the more tiring, he gathered. Reaching out a hand toward some items at a booth he was currently looking around in, he ran his fingers delicately along the tops of some items, frowning as he realized he couldn't feel happy or excited about any of it. He felt nothing at all at the moment. Pulling his hand away in a sluggish manner, he turned and left the booth, wanting to find anything that could inspire some amount of joy in him. But only found himself becoming more exhausted as he passed several booths. It was later in the afternoon, but he felt like he had been up for hours. For the most part, he had been. Coming to sit on a bench, he absently moved to curl up on the empty space and quickly started to drift off. Even though it may not last a long time, he managed to doze off for a moment before a voice directed at him suddenly had him jolting back awake, “No- I wasn't-… I wasn't sleeping. I was just resting my eyes.” Azazel muttered in response as he lifted his head and looked around.
Easy food is always appreciated, specially after fate decided to keep other people coming this way for some reason. Hux was just an animal, he had no problem on accepting that, but as the apex predator, he still had some sort of control.
If there's something Hux is good at is at remembering faces; trauma built him that way and there's some recollection of seeing this person around the strip. Call it a sudden rush of benevolence or the idea of crippling guilt, but he knew that if he was there, others with way less decorum could or would be here soon. "Hey. Wake up". Voice deep and and intense unblinking stare, one could've swear there was a strange glow in his eyes for an instant as he towered over the other resting on the bench. "Shouldn't be sleeping here. It's dangerous. Go home".
HEY, i think i just saw BASTIAN HUXLEY walking down the strip. stop by to catch up and you’ll learn the TWENTY-NINE is working as a BOUNCER AT THE GLITTER GULCH LOUNGE, SECURITY GUARD AT THE RIVIERA CASINO & HOTEL, AND MEMBER OF THE CACTUS CATS and lives in SOLSTICE APARTMENTS. given they are DILIGENT but ALOOF, it’s likely that they ARE a vampire. on the flipside, rumor has it that DID A DIRTY JOB FOR AN INVESTIGATOR IN EXCHANGE FOR CLEARING HIS CRIMINAL RECORD and it keeps them looking over their shoulder. i bet you can find them tearing up the dance floor to RISE BY MAKO & THE WORLD ALIVE and you’ll know why they’re called THE HELLHOUND. ☾ .⭒˚ choi seungcheol. cis man+ he/they. bisexual + capricorn.
Violence tw, Death tw, Shitty foster parents cw, abuse tw
Some people shouldn't be parents.
His earliest memory is standing on the snow, feet purple cold grasping nothing but a worn out ribbon in his small hand. The police found him and immediately threw a blanket over his shoulders, carrying him to the car.
The kid was quiet, barely blinking, expressionless; the only indication that he was responding properly was the tightening of their fist whenever the officers tried to pry open his hand to take the ribbon. He was asked several times about his name, but he never responded and not because he was far too absorbed in forgotten trauma, but because he didn't know his name. The child had fuzzy memories of people calling him so many different things, but never a proper name. Suddenly, as if God became compassionate over a lost child, the car stopped at a red light, right next to a building that announced some kind event: "Adolf Bastian. A deep dive into the primal motivations of men from the anthropologist's point of view". Bastian. It stuck.
The police department was unable to find anyone related to the kid, so to the system he went.
The Huxleys were very nice people, probably the only decent family that Bastian ever spent time with, so adopting their last name was not an hurdle. Unfortunately, because life is not always fair, Bastian was moved to another family in favor of a younger child that needed the kind attention that only people like the Huxleys could provide; they worked with difficult children after all.
The next place was not nice, nor the third or the fourth. The fifth family sent him back and the sixth just ran away with the money. Seventh time is the charm, I guess? But no. The Gray family was apathetic at best, the mother did nothing but lock the fridge and never give two shits whether kids scratched their knees or got bullied at school. The father was the typical alcoholic bum, although very good at hiding it whenever CPS was around. He slept most of the day after being fired from his fourth job in the past six months. Both of them always demanded silence in the house and to never even dare to touch the precious flowers of the woman's garden. Punishment included being dragged to seclusion, yelling and physical harshness enough to teach a lesson but never enough to leave a mark. It just kept escalating. They tried to rename them with the Gray last name, but Bastian would put up a fight every single time "It's Huxley! My last name is Huxley!" and he was so eager to leave that clear that he started going only by that name: Huxley. Even his foster siblings called him that. Hux.
He was already thirteen and the situation hadn't improved. Some children left to other homes, others got adopted, some others simply escaped just to be dragged back days after -- The Grays were unfortunately well connected to the PD and Hux, being one of their oldest could only watch, right?
He was fourteen when he finally snapped. It was no big issue, nothing of huge importance, just some screaming and hair pulling over the milk spilled on the table, the usual; but this was enough for him to take action.
Hux began by stomping all over the flowers, then breaking the alcohol bottles hidden all around the house. This last mess woke the up the family and the kid was met with rage. He was called by every name of the book throughout the years with the Grays, but 'dog', 'filthy pup' and 'stray' were top contenders and the favorites to use on him for whatever reason and this time he was called all of them one right after the other. The situation clearly got out of hand from everybody and everything ended with Hux pushing the man down the stairs.
Even if he acted in self-defense, the pettiness of the people in the PD connected to the Grays sent him to juvie until he was an adult. Parent figure roles were taken by inmates a couple of years older and the occasional guard that was far too nice for the job.
Hux gets out. Completely alone and without an idea of what to do, he was soon involved in the gangster life. Jumping from place to place, from eastern Europe to America, the mercenary started to get involved with shadier people and jobs even more difficult to keep in the shadows.
He gets caught, there's no running away from this. God won't have mercy. But Hux was no longer a creature of God at this point. Back in juvie, a fight that erupted ended with him heavily wounded. The nurse, a vampire, took pity of him back then and decided to save him. In the present, a devil decided to extend his hand, to give him one more chance at life. A dirty deed in exchange of a clean record, and he took it. Bastian felt permanently stained afterwards, but at least he was free... right?
He decided to move to Nevada where he joined the Cactus Cats; a life of crime was the only thing he knew, but maybe this time would be different.
FACTS
Doberman/Hellhound imagery
Sweet tooth
Capricorn sun, scorpio rising
Likes techwear
Really enjoys sleeping
Issues with parental figures
Thinks his parents abandoned him, but... did they?
Most likely in the spectrum, but he's unaware
Really trying to keep his jobs
Likes being called Hux and not by his first name
Doesn't celebrate his bday
Protecting people makes him feel better about himself
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