No matter how many times his feet found the cobblestones of Knockturn Alley, he never got any more comfortable about visiting the side street. In his youth, it had been exciting to explore and chase after what trouble might be found in the shady place...But it was the fear and darkness of Knockturn that had made it such. These days he felt no rush adrenaline turning from Diagon into the shadows. Now that he was one of the 'monsters', he should have felt at home... But he didn't. Perhaps it because he still did not feel as if he was a monster, despite the changes that had come to his personality since that fateful full moon.

Jaxon had always spoke of opposing mistreatment or prejudice against any type of magical creature, but it was not until he himself was afflicted with the were curse that he began to take a more active role in preventing that mistreatment. It was early 2010 when he met and aligned himself with McHalens. Through his involvement with the resistance that Alex built up, Jaxon came to know of the unspeakable experiments his kind were being subjected to. The natural protectiveness that defined the core of his nature could not stand for such atrocities. There is nothing Jaxon would not do to put a stop to the abuse the unfortunate bitten are facing in this modern times.

This afternoon, he was coming to seek out Larissa for any news or assignment she might have to pass to him. He checked in with her regularly. A visit to Moribund's also gave him justification for drifting down to the White Wyvern after to check in on the lovely were that made her living in the hole in the wall pub. If she wasn't working, maybe Max would be feeling generous and Jay could get a good deal on some new ink... That all would be worked out later... Business before pleasure-

Three short raps of his knuckles against the door frame of Moribund's announced his presence to anyone who might be within the shop. It was the same knock that Jaxon had used for going on six years now. He glanced left to right as he waited for someone to let him in--no one seemed to take notice of him. Few people were present in the alley at all... Fewer than usual, but he hadn't a clue why.

---

@larissa | Outfit | 400 words

To this day, Larissa thought that Alex coming up with this shop as a cover for the rebellion was one of his better ideas. She was just glad that her husband trusted her to run it, and she had to admit that she did enjoy it. Larissa had always been good with numbers, and luckily she had been able to prove that time and time again over the years. Keeping this place running wasn’t always easy, after all, particularly in the winter months where the elements kept people away. But even that worked in their benefit as well. If there weren’t random customers popping in, it meant that members of the rebellion could come and go as they pleased and no one was the wiser about it—not that they ever attracted much suspicion anyhow.

Larissa was arguably the most innocent shop owner in Knockturn Alley. She wasn’t a Death Eater, she was unregistered as a werewolf, so she could heal her injuries and conceal all of her scars… no one gave her a second look. If they did, it was because they were wondering what in the hell someone like her was doing here. It worked out quite well for her, and it worked out for Landry as well. She was excellent as an employee, and someone that Larissa trusted. She also happened to look just as harmless as Larissa. Everything worked out marvelously in the shop, really. Of course, they’d also had their fair share of down-on-their-luck Death Eaters come into the shop, thinking that it would be easy to take advantage of two women alone in a shop. But it never ended well for anyone that tried to rob them, not that it happened often—because while she might not look threatening, Larissa had no problem ripping out someone’s damn throat if they crossed her. Between herself and Landry, people didn’t commonly make that mistake.

Then, of course, there was the Ministry to deal with. Their frequent checks of the Alley did get old fast, but they were hardly a shop first on anyone’s list to check out. Yes, she certainly thought that her husband had made a good choice in letting her run the shop, but she was truly just grateful that he trusted her to do so successfully. Larissa had to admit that she wouldn’t mind him being able to come by more often, though the rebellion required them both to be busy at times. It came first, and she obviously knew that. Apart from Alex, there was nothing that mattered to her more. Landry was out at the current time, and it had been a rather quiet day. A few regulars had stopped in, along with a few members of the rebellion that she’d caught up with. It was common for them to pass messages along for her to give to Alex, and her to them if she had anything that they needed to discuss.

But other than that, it had been quiet… the entire alley had been quiet, really. She’d been contemplating if it was worth heading out for a bit of lunch before she heard a knock on the door. Larissa headed over to the door, waving her wand to unlock one of the many locks. When she reached the thick wooden door, she unlatched another one of the locks, before pulling the door open. “Jaxon,” she said, with a small smile, when she took in who was standing there. Her eyes moved about the alley around him for a moment, seeing that there was no one around. Having a well-known and professional Quidditch player as a member of the rebellion put her on edge at times. “Come in,” Larissa added finally, her gaze moving back to him as she stepped aside so that he could come into the shop. Once he had, she let the door close behind them and locked it again. “How have you been?” She asked him, raising her eyebrows as she moved further into the room.

Outfit

When the door swung wide, Jaxon was greeted by the beautiful face of Larissa McHalen. He flashed her a charming smile at the sound of his name on her lips. "Ris, hey," he greeted, side stepping slightly to give her better view of the emptiness behind him. "Quiet this afternoon," he commented on the state of the alley and the absence of persons there.

"Thanks," was his short simple reply to her command to enter. He slipped inside the shop with a seeker's grace despite his towering height. His fluid smooth movements were a juxtaposition against his lanky, lithe height. Many with a build like his would have been clumsy, but Jax had always had a natural grace about him.

The many locks clicked back into place behind him as he moved deeper into the familiar shop. The sounds, smells and lighting all welcomed him as an old friend. For all his aversion to Knockturn, Jaxon liked being inside Moribund's.

His initial reaction to her inquiry was a shrug of his broad shoulder. "Eh- ya know- Harpies knocked us out of the Cup." He turned a face at that, but did not dwell on the topic of Quidditch. "Been working on the cabin." He informed her with an easy grin. His dimple winked at the woman, the divot appearing and disappearing as he spoke. "Got one of those magi-architects to do some size charm shit, I don't what it's called, but my kitchen is like double the size it used to be. Got a wine cellar cut out of the rocks, too. It's nice."

"How about you? All well with the McHalens? Ain't seen Alex in awhile, longer than usual for he and I to go without some face to face time--" Jaxon was not by nature a worrier, but he did like to know that his friends were well. When too much time passed without any contact, he'd search them out, just to make sure--the protective side of him kept him on the look out. If Alex ever got picked up again, Jax would be front of the line to make some foolhardy rescue attempt. He didn't have the best planning mind, but he was a loyal, dependable sort that wouldn't ever leave a brother behind.

There had been a time in Larissa’s life where everything had been very mundane… very boring. She’d had an average childhood, normal parents, and her sisters were brats. She graduated from Hogwarts and got a job in the Ministry, had a boyfriend that she’d fancied herself in love with. It had been very average, though she had been happy. And then everything had changed—she had been attacked by a werewolf, and she knew that she very nearly died that night. That was true for nearly all of the werewolves she knew, of course… if a person was attacked by a werewolf, odds were, their injuries were pretty damn serious. But she knew that Alex had barely found her in time. If he had been even a few minutes later, if she hadn’t knocked over a rubbish bin in an attempt to be heard in the alleyway she’d dragged herself into… she would have died.

For a while, she wished she had. She couldn’t imagine living a life like this, no matter how much Alex had tried to teach her. He had intimidated her from the jump, but he was all that she’d had since she refused to go back to her family. He’d yelled at her, pushed her to her damn limits, and it had been bloody difficult. She truly thought that she didn’t have what it took, and she knew that Alex had started to think that about her as well. Now, though, she couldn’t imagine her life any other way. She was… happy in a way that a werewolf could be happy, she supposed, but she was unsettled. Larissa knew that she could not be truly content until their rebellion proved to be successful, and they were given back the rights that they deserved. Larissa would do anything that it took to make sure that happened, particularly with what had happened all of those years back.

The day that she’d transformed back from a full moon, went to where she met Alex, and he didn’t come back… well, that had truly been one of the worst days of her life. It had taken weeks to plan how to get in the Ministry and how to get out without being detected. Her past as an obliviator helped out with that. As much as she wanted to viciously kill every one of the members of the unit, particularly those that had experimented on her husband, she knew that they needed to get out without creating more issues for themselves. But there would be a time when Larissa would personally see to it that those people in particular paid. Alex might be the more vicious one between the pair of them, but Larissa was not afraid to kill bloody anyone who stood in their way, and she certainly wasn’t against a bit of revenge as well. She knew she wasn’t the only one who felt that way, either. Everyone loyal to the cause wanted revenge on those that slighted them, and they had lost more than a couple werewolves to the WCU over the years.

When she pulled open the door to see Jaxon, she was unsurprised to see the alley as quiet as it was. With the small amount of actual paying customers she’d had today, Larissa had wagered it was pretty dead out there—whether or not there was a reason behind that was yet to be seen. But when Jaxon came around, it was better for it to be this quiet… he was a well-known face in the wizarding world, after all. “Has been all week,” she commented, when her gaze finally moved back to him. For business, that wasn’t great, but for the rebellion and those that stopped by the shop, it was convenient. When he’d stepped inside, she made sure to lock up behind them, after having taken one last look around the empty alley. It was quiet. It made her think the Death Eaters were planning something… but that was fine. It would take the attention off of them.

Larissa moved further into the shop, before leaning casually against the countertop. It wasn’t odd to see Jaxon around here on occasion, but he had been busy with… Quidditch. The thought seemed foreign to her—she’d played at Hogwarts, but it wasn’t something she ever felt the desire to do now, even if she did have the time. It was interesting to her, though, to hear about the parts of Jaxon’s life that were surprisingly normal. “Well, there’s always next season,” she replied, with a hint of amusement lacing her tone. Even talking about Quidditch was a novelty at this point, which was probably why it entertained her this much. “Drinking a lot of wine over there, are you?” Larissa asked, raising her eyebrows. It did sound like Jaxon’s cabin was rather nice, and it reminded her of how much effort it had taken to put her and Alex’s cabin together. She knew that it wasn’t nearly as extravagant as Jaxon’s more than likely was, but it did the trick, which was particularly helpful when members of the rebellion needed somewhere to stay.

Larissa knew that Jaxon was entirely loyal to the rebellion, and to Alex, even though she sometimes wondered just how big of a liability he was, being such a public figure. But it was good to have those in the rebellion that weren’t all at the bottom of the totem pole. They also valued loyalty, and despite the fact that questioned the risk, his loyalty was certainly worth it. “I’ve been fine—keeping this place going, even though it’s been bloody dead.” She told him, with a glance around the shop. It brought in a steady income, was a good cover for the rebellion, but there were times when their profits weren’t great. Now was certainly one such time. “Alex has been busy… trying to recruit, mostly. He has an eye on this wolf always pickpocketing around tourist traps.” Larissa added, as she knew that Jaxon kept his eyes out for werewolves to recruit as well. “She found her away in here a few months back too… young little thing—barely looked older than twenty, but had great instincts.” She mused aloud. She’d also been pretty adamant about the benefits of being a… lone wolf, as it were, but nearly everyone thought that at one point.

---

THAT GOT SO LONG, I'M SORRY. She just had so many thoughts....

Being a werewolf never got easier. The changes in his personality... The scars... The fear of what he was now capable of-- it had resulted in several years in the bottle. But Quidditch have him a reason to try to keep his life together. Hell, it was his life. Outside of recruiting other weres into the rebellion, all he had was the sport. He hadn't had any serious relationship since, well ever. He fucked around a lot, yeah, but either with muggles who wouldn't know what his scars were from or with other weres. Couldn't risk going to bed with most witches or wizards without the use of glamours, which the man could manage, but usually just opted against...glamours could get hard to sustain, he might have been decent at charms, but there was always the chance he could slip up, forget, or have the magic fade when he was with someone that would end up ratting him out. So, he tried to avoid that possibility. But sometimes he just felt painfully alone...those were the days he came seeking out people like the McHalens.

It was simple small talk when he first arrived. Greetings and such, nothing on consequence. At Ris's mention of next year's Quidditch season, his simple reply was "yep."

The country boy mentioned his cabin and Larissa's reply about his cellar addition made him laugh. "Not really," Jaxon admitted; his usual cheeky grin dominating his face. He was a grinner--something he got from his dad. "I'm more a beer and whiskey man, but the architect got so excited about the idea, I figured why the hell not. And yes, okay--she was pretty, but I wasn't just trying to shag 'er." He had--yes--but it'd been a quick, rough go of it over the granite countertop she had chosen. But he had agreed to the wine cellar, because it had made the woman happy--and it might have seemed silly to some, but to him, he had the money and the opportunity to bring a bit of satisfaction or happiness to someone else--and so he did. He always tried to do that. As a boy, he had sworn if he was ever rich that he would spend and give as much as he could. Because what's the point otherwise? He didn't want to die with a filled vault at Gringotts. He wanted that shit empty by the time he was on his death bed.

Larissa spoke of the shop being dead and the seeker furrowed his brow, moving back towards the door, trying to steal a peak out onto the street. "Any idea why it's so quite out there? A bit disconcertin' really. Feels like the still before the storm."

Talk turned to Ris's husband and Jaxon nodded as he listened to the woman's short report. "Alex is always recruitin'," was his immediate reply. His drawl making the declaration friendly and warm. The seeker had an immense amount of respect for Alex and all that he did. The world was better for him being a part of it--Jax just wanted to do his share to keep moving the world forward in the right direction.

He felt a surge of protectiveness rise up in him as she introduced the idea of the young pickpocket. Jay hated seeing weres being forced into lives in the shadows, scraping by through petty crime. He wanted something better for them all. More opportunity--a curse they had never chosen should not have the power to ruin their lives.

"You think I might have better luck with her?" He asked, arching up a brow at the woman. Jaxon was a much different sort than Alex. Sometimes, his good ole boy personality was what was called for.

Larissa was grateful for everyone in the rebellion, obviously. They all brought different skills to the table, and they were all loyal, which was what was most important. They had to have people around that they could trust, otherwise there wasn’t a point in having a rebellion at all. Secrecy was essential in this, and it meant that they had to put a lot of faith in their members to do the right bloody thing and not do anything too stupid. The rebellion brought all kinds, though, so they did have to be careful. There were the ones that she didn’t get along with well personally—like Enoch, and Val, and the other rougher werewolves that followed Alex’s orders but didn’t listen to a word that she said, and then there were those like Landry, that she was close with. Jaxon fell more in the latter of the lists. She didn’t exactly know him as well as she knew Landry, and sometimes it was difficult to really be able to comprehend how normal of a life Jaxon held in many ways, but he was a decent person to talk to. And he was loyal—Merlin, was he loyal. She knew that she could trust him and that he would never betray them.

But werewolves in the rebellion… they were all different. She didn’t expect any differently, obviously. Even though the ministry didn’t consider them to be people, they were all… still human—with different personalities, and experiences, and it meant that not every one of them was the same. Some were inherently more violent than others due to circumstance, and some were able to live more normal lives, like Jaxon did. Personally, Larissa hadn’t known a normal life for a long time, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. The rebellion was her and Alex’s sole focus, and nearly everything that they did was for it. They’d had to make their sacrifices, but it would be worth it in the end.

Besides, at the end of the day, Alex would always be more important to her than the rebellion. He was her top priority, and the love of her life, and she would do bloody anything for him. After he had been taken by the werewolf capture unit, it had solidified for Larissa what had to be done. They had to pay for what they did and what they continued to do to werewolves. Taking Alex had made it more personal, and now she would not even think of looking back until they got what the goal of their rebellion was… their rights. If she had to rip out some throats to make that happen, she had no problem doing so. She might not be as violent as some of the others, but she could be when it came down to it, and she had a feeling that would prove to be entirely necessary. It had in the past, and she would wager it would be in the future as well.

Even though they were all different… even though some of them had vastly different lives, they all had the same goals. That was what brought them together. It was what made them a family, of sorts, and they looked out for one another. They could focus on what needed to be done at times, and be serious, but it wasn’t all about that… all of the time, at least. She rolled her eyes in amusement as he admitted to not being much of a wine drinker—he didn’t look it, really, and then shot him a look at his next words. “Should have just made it a whiskey cellar, then… or is that not what rich folk are putting in their houses nowadays?” Larissa commented, raising her eyebrows. She had to admit that it wasn’t exactly a topic that she was well versed in. Her and Alex’s cabin was nice, if basic, to what she assumed was a more extravagant cabin that Jaxon had. Larissa laughed, shaking her head, “Who won’t you shag?” She said, though it was amusing to her. Even though his life was leagues different than hers was, it was interesting to know someone and hear about something so entirely opposite from her life—in every way apart from the rebellion, and their lycanthropy, of course.

This time of year, it was commonly quieter in the Alley just in general. It was colder out, and people didn’t linger about like they did in other warmer times of year. But it was more than that… it was clearly more. Larissa didn’t bother herself with what the Death Eaters and their sort were getting up to—whatever it was, it distracted the Ministry and that was all that mattered to her. “Ministry has been around a lot… that, and this bloody weather.” She answered, her gaze moving to the door briefly, before she looked back at Jaxon. Winter was bloody awful, particularly for their kind, as some of them had nowhere to bloody go—but others in this area had issues of their own to deal with in the colder months. “This time of year, easier for him to spot them.” They got more desperate now to get money for food and for shelter, and while Larissa had been the one that alerted him about Cass, Alex had made further contact. “You’d have to ask Alex—don’t think he’s having bad luck, just taking it slowly. She seems to trust him thus far.” Larissa explained, with a shrug. They couldn’t just tell a werewolf about the rebellion the first time they met them, after all, as that was far too reckless. It was better to gain their trust and gauge their opinions first.

Jaxon laughed and then rolled his eyes at her comment and follow-on question about his wine cellar. "Ah, come on now, I'm just a good ole country boy. Money ain't changed that none. Can't I just use it for that anyway? Is there a difference? It's like a fucking hole in the rock with shelves." Everything he said came out very good-natured. For all the change he had experienced due to his affliction, the Cole was still super laid-back. Just a very chill dude, until something happened to rile up his temper. That temper had never really existed before--but the last six years, he'd had to learn how to try to control it and not give in. That wasn't always easy. But as long as the conversation was about wine or whiskey cellars, there was no chance of getting him riled up.

Another deep round of laughter filled the shop, reverberating in his chest as Larissa made the jab about his long list of people who had been to his bed. "Can't help it that I'm just damn sexy. You know you've thought about. And if it weren't for Alex, I'd be chasing your skirt til you were won over by irresistible charm. It'd happen." Everything came out very jovial and joking, but underneath rang a note of sincerity. Jaxon was very confident in his ability to get a woman (or a man) into bed.

"Aye," was his response about the increased Ministry presence. It made him uncomfortable--and kept him away from magical London most days. "The weather does fucking suck. I hate the cold. We should all just move to some island somewhere. Surely, I can afford one--maybe in a season or two. Get us a were safe-hold somewhere with sand and sun...and no fucking snow." Jax would do it too, in a second, if the weres ever decided they wanted to leave the Ministry controlled lands. He'd be happy to give them a fresh start somewhere free of persecution. They deserved it.

"Gotcha, will do." The seeker declared, confirming his understanding with a nod.

"You got anything for me?" he asked, wondering if there was any rebellion work to be done. That had been the reason for his visit. To make sure some task Alex had in mind for him wasn't just sitting undone, because he had stayed holed up in his cabin for so long.

They had all kinds in the rebellion, of course. The Ministry saw them all as beasts… as monsters, and that was the only classification that those idiots needed. They didn’t see them as anything more, and that was fine with her. They didn’t need to realize it. Really, it only would help the rebellion overall that they thought so little of them. But they were all different… all people in their own rights, and they brought a hell of a lot to the rebellion in different ways. But that also obviously meant that she had changing relationships with each member. Some of them, she got along with to the point that she could consider them friends, in a way. She trusted Landry more than most others, really, which made sense since she was in the shop with her every day. Rolf was Alex’s… best friend, she supposed, and so she trusted him as well—and considered him a friend of sorts. And talking to Jaxon always proved to be interesting as well. Parts of his life were just so normal. He played Quidditch for a living, for Merlin’s sake, which certainly meant that he made the most money out of bloody anyone involved in the group.

Not that she faulted him in any way for that, obviously. People had their ways of making money, and some of them had taken more traditional routes, if they could. For them, it just hadn’t made sense to. After all, as far as anyone from her old life was aware, Larissa Anderson was dead. She couldn’t exactly go get a job when the world thought that she was no longer alive. It left options a bit scarce, and she also didn’t want to do anything that helped the wizarding world that shut her out, her entire kind out. So, this job truly made sense for her.

They’d gotten the shop, under Alex’s name of course, and she enjoyed being able to run it. It was challenging at times, but she’d always enjoyed a proper challenge—and Merlin knew that they could use all of the extra money they could get. It had been an especially slow couple of months, and she knew that she’d probably have to resort to some pickpocketing again soon for a spare bit of money. It wasn’t exactly preferable, but commonly she ended up going back to that tried and true method during the winter months.

Usually, when it was this quiet, the only people that stopped by were those in the rebellion. So it worked well for that. The emptier the shop, the easier it was for those to come and go without anyone getting suspicious. Larissa could pass along any messages that she had from Alex, anything that he needed done, or when they wanted someone to come over to the camp—or when they all needed to. It was the real reason they had gotten this shop, after all… for ease of communicating with everyone; the extra profit was just a bonus. “A fucking hole in the rock… that what you call it to that architect of yours? Bet she loves that.” On occasion, she felt like she could be a bit more casual when talking to members of the rebellion like Jaxon—but not always. Sometimes, most of the time really, it was important to be serious around them. They had a lot of shit to deal with, and while she knew that she wasn’t the one in charge, she was the go-between with Alex and members of the rebellion enough to know how important that was.

Larissa raised her eyebrows at his words, but didn’t say anything. She hoped that Jaxon didn’t say shit like that around Alex, because her husband wasn’t the type that would like to hear men in the rebellion saying that to her. But she was sure he didn’t. This was just a casual conversation, and she knew Jaxon’s humor well enough by now. “Oh that sure of your charms, are you?” Larissa asked him, lightly, but figuring that it would probably be best to move past this particular topic of discussion, however joking it was. “Merlin knows we could all do without the cold,” she agreed. It made transformations even worse, or at least that had been her opinion of it over the years. With less humans around to hurt in general, which was good of course, werewolves without Wolfsbane tended to attack themselves in frustration—and that left some hellish damn injuries.

Jaxon was always willing to help with the rebellion, and that was appreciated. There was nothing that she felt like he wouldn’t do for Alex, and it was always reassuring to know when people supported her husband as much as they did. He was a damn good leader, after all. “Nothing specific right now… just keep your eyes open, as always. It’s a tough time of year.” It was easier to stop out werewolves when it was this brutal out, as some were stuck outside if they had nowhere to go, and most had to resort to some desperate ways for some money. “Alex just wants an update, whenever you can stop by. Says it’s been a while since he’s seen you.” Larissa added, as she knew that Alex liked to get details in person if they had time, at least. With how busy Jaxon was, though, she also had no problem passing anything along if he didn’t think he’d be able to head over to the cabin.

Jaxon knew he was in many ways the odd man out involved with the werewolf rebellion. But should the secret of his affliction ever come public, he'd lose everything--the Ministry would take every asset and throw him under the prison. It was a very dangerous choice to continue to pursue such a public career--to have his face plastered across the front of Witch Weekly or the Prophet kept his pretty playboy reputation well known across the United Kingdom. But so far, he had managed not to slip up. Charms helped--of course, but he still should likely be more careful than he was.

Some part of him nearly wanted the world to find out. But that was the foolish sliver of a naive child that still managed to exist in the depths of him. The man with common sense knew better. Only suffering and loss could come from his identification as a werewolf. The rules and restrictions placed on his 'monsterous' kind kept him pushing for change through the rebellion, but hadn't been enough for him to abandon society. He knew each werewolf had different motivations for how they lived their lives, but he made choices every day to continue to ingrain himself in the wizarding world, hoping that between the sexy pictures and questions about his current relationship status, he would be able to encourage his fans and admirers to be more tolerant of all people and magical creatures. Those little tidbits might not always get noticed, but they were a common thread through every interview the seeker gave. He preached tolerance-

He laughed as Larissa poked fun about his description of his new cellar thing. "Well---I might not have put it just like that talkin' to her," the seeker conceded. His boyish face bearing an expression of exaggerated innocence.

The flirting was nothing serious to Jaxon--but he didn't miss the bit of discomfort that seemed to come to the leader's wife. The were would try to remember to keep it toned down with her. He'd likely forget, but he'd attempt to make the effort anyway. He was just the very friendly sort. "Confidence built on results, doll," was all he said before letting the flirtation come to an end.

"Winters always hard," the words fell short of the truth considerably, but there was no need to expound upon them as Larissa knew just as well as he did, if not moreso. "But I got plenty of land, hundred acres and some, if you know anybody that needs somewhere to go. Ain't no people for miles--but plenty of deer, actual wolves, and shit to hunt and fuck with when those urges come..." Words went unsaid again--unneeded as the woman before him understood exactly what he meant.

Jax gave a nod at the instruction to go to Alex. "Can do that--don't really have shit to report, but I'll swing by anyway. Be good to see 'im anyway."

He drew his full bottom lip under the assault of his canine as he tried to think of a way to broach the next topic he wanted to bring up without Larissa taking offense or turning him down. "How about some coin? I know I can't do as much because of my face being on the cover of Witch Weekly, but I could help out in the ways I can....you said there was some pickpocketin' young thing. I know pride makes the mind go to words like charity, but it ain't that. I just want to do somethin' good...Not like I can spend what I earn--or even close. I ain't got nobody, Ris. Just y'all." He looked at her pleadingly. He hadn't taken this offer to Alex fearing the man would be too proud to accept the offer of money. Men could get all funny that way--get torn up about the idea of charity, but willing to accept help in other ways. Jax had the money to give, if they would just accept it.

For her, running this shop was far better than other ways she could be making money. When she had first been turned, of course Alex had taught her everything that she needed to know about… everything—and pickpocketing had been one such skill that she had to learn quickly. Larissa thought that she’d picked up on it rather well, considering, and she supposed that being a Slytherin had helped her out on being a bit more manipulative than she actually thought she was capable of being. Over the years, she’d definitely honed that skill; but when Alex had gotten this shop as a means to hide the rebellion, and offered for her to run it, she knew that she would be far better at that. She liked math… liked numbers, and liked the challenge of keeping something like this place afloat—as well as conning the ministry into thinking she was some innocent waif whenever they came around. And throughout the years, she’d been damn good at that.

Being the one that was always here, she got to see some of the rebellions face-to-face more than others, depending on how often they came by. Obviously, there were some that she would rather see far less, and some that she actually liked seeing, and Jaxon fell into the latter category. Conversations with him were always… interesting. Different. They were never short of entertainment, at least, and when she was in Knockturn Alley all day, sometimes she could use it. “Figured not.” Larissa replied, with a shake of her head.

When the conversation turned slightly toward comments that she was sure Alex wouldn’t appreciate, offhanded and joking or not, Larissa knew that she needed to turn the direction back toward the rebellion and anything that was going on with Jaxon. It seemed like he noticed her bit of discomfort, it had been slight, but werewolves tended to have those sort of instincts… the kind that made them notice what others might not. She was grateful that he seemed just as willing to let that conversation die down. She rolled her eyes in response, her expression still amused, but decided it would be better not to say anything at all regarding that.

The colder months were difficult for werewolves, particularly with the current state of things. With the ministry cracking down on regulations, keeping an eye out for anyone unregistered, it was important to keep a low profile. Usually that meant taking jobs that could barely sustain them, and that meant that there were several members of the rebellion that didn’t have regular roofs over their head. But there was only so much room in the cabin as well, and so it proved difficult sometimes. Larissa nodded at his words—hard was an understatement, but no word really sufficed in explaining how horrible it could be. “If you’re offering, we’ll send some your way…” She commented, though she wasn’t entirely sure that Jaxon would know what he was getting into by saying yes to that. They wouldn’t send many, maybe one or two, but there were sometimes upwards of a dozen people in their cabin for one night, and they only had one spare bedroom.

She nodded when Jaxon said he’d head over sometime. He might not have much to tell Alex, but her husband still liked checking in at times… seeing what was going on. Particularly those who were registered, to see if they were having any trouble. But she supposed that they all had their troubles, in different ways. Larissa’s eyes narrowed contemplatively as he looked like he wanted to say something and he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. When he brought up money, she made a face, but didn’t interrupt him. The shop did… all right, and Alex’s conning and pickpocketing did all right; but she wouldn’t lie, they could always use a bit more money—especially when so many people were staying with him. However, that didn’t mean that they could accept it. “We don’t want to take your money, Jax…” She said, finally. He didn’t owe them that, as much as she appreciated it.