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After listening to Dark's lecture on the importance of becoming a doctor, Mitch's face darkened. He looked briefly at Ivy with what seemed like guilt in his eyes, but he said nothing. It wasn't his place to intervene in how someone wanted to raise their child anyway. Regardless, he knew just how...

Mitch sat up in his chair as Dark talked about his time in high school, but he found himself lost for the words to say. He didn't have the fortune to say that he even got his own high school diploma. What would they even think of him? "I was really only in Catholic school for my elementary...

Now it was Mitch's turn to deflect. "Well, there was certainly the beauty of American schooling during and after the Second War." He spoke with a rather unfamiliar malice, albeit subtle. Usually, he was simply polite at best and cagey at worst. "I was just turning seven at the time, but I was...

Though the slice of the jello salad was on his plate, Mitch made a lackluster effort to break it up with his spoon. He eventually got a negligible piece from it and put it in his mouth, swallowing it down immediately as to not feel the sensation of the unnatural, wriggly substance on his tongue...

Mitch perked up in his seat. "Oh! I've been to a pomegranate farm out in the Coachella Valley when I backpacked out to California. I could bring back some juice next time I go. I love pomegranates, they're delectable." He leaned forward in his chair. "You know the pomegranate is also a symbol...

Mitch nodded, a keen interest in his eyes. "You'll have to cook for us some time," he said with a smile. "Whatever recipes you have access to, of course. I don't think I've ever had Iraqi or Egyptian food. I really only grew up with Irish stuff. Soda bread, boxty, and naturally we had shepherd's...

Mitch let out a laugh before stifling himself in response to Ivy's question. At least he wasn't the only one who was less than enthralled by the 'salad'. "Sorry about that," he mumbled, his hand covering his mouth before putting his hands back in his lap. "If it isn't what you want, there are...

Mitch found himself entranced by Dark's monologue about Pythagoras. He had done some research himself, and was well aware of the mathematician's immense effect and impression on music theory. If anything, Mitch had forgotten that Pythagoras was only known for basic geometry. He had to admit...

Mitch found himself grinning during the conversation about bugs and their languages. "I don't think it's fair to dismiss bugs as gross until you've had a heartfelt conversation with a honeybee or a bumblebee." He leaned forward in his chair to Gabriel, his arms crossed on the table. "You know...

Mitch regained his composure and took a deep breath. He was just relieved that Olivia was, admittedly, impressively aware of social cues. It was true, he hadn't really intended to be displaying his music to anyone else, so he didn't really bother being clean with his handwriting. It certainly...

Mitch turned his head to the side and down at the floor, trying to hide his face turning red. It was a barrage of embarrassment. Not only was his music being shared around and nitpicked on, but Ikanov ended up running to his defense like a zealous bodyguard. "Hey, that's not..." He started, but...

Mitch nodded. "We can talk about this when we don't have outside company. Probably a bit heavy of a topic for lunch." With that, he sat back in his chair, giving Abel a pat on the back of the shoulder as he sat in the chair next to Mitch. "Rose and I are going to the record store after lunch...

Though Mitch was aware of his presence, Dark's interjection still made him jump in his seat. However, as he listened to the man's words, he nodded solemnly. "I suppose you can't reverse what you grew up with, no matter if you still believe it or not," he pondered out loud. He silently gestured...

Mitch laughed heartily. "I suppose I haven't been a part of the Irish Catholic experience back at home, eh?" He exhaled, relaxing his shoulders. "Maybe we just run the risk of being smote just on account of being Irish," he joked. He hummed softly and paused for a moment, thinking silently to...

Mitch grinned with a beaming, somewhat ironic pride. "Irish Catholic, tru and tru," he announced with his springy, Limerickan accent. "Loads 'a' hellfire, loads 'a' repentance." He looked up to the ceiling. "That's not to say I objectively disbelieve any of those things. I was raised on it, it'd...

Mitch laughed at the rather apt comparison. "Just call me Bashful, then. Ikanov can be Grumpy," He joked. The smile wiped off his face soon after he said that, and he sighed quietly, his brow furrowed and a contemplative look in his eyes. "Sometimes I think about whether I should be going back,"...

Mitch shook his head, looking down at the table. His voice was much lower to ensure nobody outside the room would hear him. "It figures that these people preaching of purity and righteousness are the ones with the dirtiest minds." Of course Mitch wasn't opposed to religion and spirituality; any...

Mitch rolled his eyes, chuckling at the thought. "We wouldn't hear the end of it, I'm sure." He looked to the doorway briefly. He hadn't really seen Ikanov since this morning, but he knew he was up and about. He thinks he's slick, but Mitch was still aware when he was being watched, even deep...

Mitch walked into the dining room briskly, a subtle nervousness in his stride, but that wasn't uncommon when Selene was in the household. He nodded to Rose with a friendly smile. "Ah, there you are. How are you today?" He said, pulling out his own chair and sitting across from the Irishwoman...

Mitch heard the sound of the bell coming from the kitchen, and promptly got up from the bench. "I'll remember to let you know in the future. If Olivia is willing to share that sheet music with you, by all means." His shoulders were still stiff, but his demeanor was still kind. He gave an...