Nate was quite showing off the fact that he looked for fights. He glared at her. "You can drink a little every day and not be an alcoholic." He said sharply, frowning. "I can drink how I like. I'm not gonna turn into a monster. You're such a worry wart." He sounded a little hostile.

"Yes, but you don't drink a little every day. When we met, I watched you down about half a bottle in one sitting. Recovering alcoholics don't get the same privileges as nonalcoholics." Tempe said stubbornly, turning on her heel and crossing her arms, leaning back against the table. "No, you obviously fucking can't. Because when you did drink how you wanted to, your lack of self control got you into deep shit and I had to fix it so you don't die by the time you're 27." She snapped, returning the hostile tone. She raised her eyebrows at him for the last bit. "Don't treat me like I don't have a reasont to react this way, Nate." She ordered, looking slightly insulted because of the mention of being a 'worrywart'. "Who says you aren't a monster already?" She blurted out, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her arms.

He rolled his eyes, turning a shoulder slightly. "I don't want to not be an alcoholic." His face was reflecting how unhappy he was feeling. He noticed her mention of the possibility he might die. But he didn't want to have her on his ass for saying something about how nice death sounded at the moment. "I'm not. Don't think I don't notice how you flinch when I mention shit about my dad." He snapped, facing her better. "I say I'm not. You see the real monsters out there, you should know better than to chide me on that."

Tempe gave him the most bewildered look. "What do you mean, you don't want to not be an alcoholic?" She asked softly, a dangerous tone rather than empathetic. "Well TOO FUCKING BAD!" She hissed, snapping her fingers and promptly making the bottle empty. "I don't want you to be an alcoholic. I don't want you to die at 27. I want you to remember your life as vividly as possible before it gets ripped away! And what I say goes, so learn to live with it, sweetheart." Her face was pale and her body tense, some sort of mix between anger and fear. As if to prove his point, she flinched back at the mention of a father. "Your father has no place in this conversation." She said coldly, glaring at his with some sort of hate. "Monsters come in many different shapes and sizes. Tell me why you aren't one." She challenged quietly.

Nate looked away as she started yelling at him. "I remember it just fine, don't know if you noticed but I'm pretty ruined already." He growled, a slightly disgusted look on his face. "He doesn't. But your father does. Let me guess, angry drunk? Abusive? Thats what I thought. Your daddy issues however have NO place in my decisions." He snapped sharply. "I help keep the world safe, from monsters. That's basically the opposite. And also, have I EVER done anything to you? Not a thing! You're being dramatic." He said very condescendingly.

(shoot him soon)

"I think you're a little broken up over how hard you think your life is and you would rather sit there, alone, wallowing in your own self pity rather than try to improve unless someone had to beg and then force you to. I wouldn't call that ruined. I'd call that a stubborn ass." Tempe said flatly, so taken aback by the mention of her father her face lost the hatred for a few moments. Her wings flicked outward at the mention, slamming painfully into a wall and causing her to flinch. "I don't know who the fuck gave you the idea that you have any right to talk about my father, but they were wrong. I don't know what twisted, psychopathic screw is loose in your brain that gave you the audacity to blame my father for me wanting you healthy, but you better screw it the fuck back in or I'll do it for you." She snarled, her gaze flicking to a gun tucked into his bag as fight or flight kicked in. She flinched at the word dramatic, giving a harsh, unamused laugh. "You know what? If you wanna bring up my father, fine. You're acting just like him anyway." She hissed,

"Unlike you, you're dead and don't even have to show your face if you don't want to. I'd call that PLENTY fine for what I've been looking at since I was just a kid. You have no idea what its like. I've stopped caring." He stomped his foot lightly as she shifted his weight. "I lost that screw a long fuckin' time ago, fell down a water drain when my dad died. I may be absolutely crazy but I'm not blind, you hate your dad more than you lead on. You have no need to defend him. You're just worried I'm gonna end up hurting you aren't you. Stop being so selfish." He snarled, the look she placed in his bag went unnoticed by him, blinded by being so unbelievably pissed off at her.

Tempe listened to him speak all the way through, swallowing at the end and letting her chest heave with anger. It felt like she could get enough air- there wasn't enough in the room. Whatever line she had for not hurting his feelings was washed away as soon as the word selfish came out of his mouth. "You don't know ANYTHING about me. Don't pretend that you do. You think I don't know what it's like? I had to live in a trailer with an alcoholic who looked at me and didn't see anything other than a fucking punching bag from the time I was eight to sixteen. You think I wanted to stick around whatever kind of hellhole life was?" She asked quietly, no tears in sight. She was so angry she didnt have time for crying. "Awh. That's so sad, your Daddy died. Did he love you? Was he proud of you? Lots of good father-son bonding time? Whoop-de-fucking-doo for you, move on. You're lucky you got whatever time you had with a decent father. Some people in this world didn't even get that and had to force our way through, but you decide the first time you lose someone that you'll just up and quit rather than do ANYTHING to help yourself. The fact that you have the gall to call ME selfish because I want to protect is absolutely amazing. I would love to know where the FUCK. YOU GOT IT FROM! But I'm just so god damn selfish. Guess I can't see past myself. Whoops." She hissed.

((Shes gonna shoot him next reply))

Little does she know how legitimately hard his life was))

Nate was personally affected by how little she seemed like she wished her dad was good. He looked upon her with distain for the moment, exhaling and looking away. He really wanted her to see how fee shits he gave. "Well I'm sorry, at least your mom lvoed you. I barely remember mine. Guess what! She's dead TOO! You have no IDEA my life. You were assigned to you but nobody told you some days, WE DIDN'T EAT! Did you know hunting isn't a paying gig? It only offers memories of things you'll never unsee. You have the gall to say that I have ANYTHING to LIVE FOR. Starting to think you should get fired, I mean shit, you're no angel." He laughed, sharp. Mockingly.

spent a hot second working out how to make her more pissed HAHAH))

"Poor. Baby." She said sarcastically, flinching at the comment on her angelicness. Tempe had a gun in her hand before she knew it. She didn't know how it got there- that happened on its own. And she raised the gun, and she fired. She didn't know why she did that. "Since I'm no angel you can have fun with that on your own." She hissed venemously, dropping the gun and striding straight out the door, slamming it behind her so hard that it didn't actually shut. She took off and was out of sight within seconds.