"Are you a real dog or a real person?" Mac asked as Ren padded past his room, peeking out at the spitz briefly before looking up at Aoba and grinning with a shrug.

"I mean, I might be. You're definitely a wrench in the perfectly running cogwork that was Declan's boring fuckin' life. Stop peeking. Perv," Mac flat-eyed Aoba, thrusting his hips around the doorway and grabbing the sturdy crotch of his racing leathers to make a vulgar gesture and prove he was clothed before returning to pulling clothes on. Desire did get a nice eyeful of bare blue torso, though. He was no marble statue like Declan, but he was more exotic; more like a strange flower. Or bird.

"Have you ever seen a cockatoo this handsome? I don't think so," he sniffed, walking out and leaning against the doorway, arm over his helmet. He was dressed in the royal family colors: stark white, rich purple, light ash gray, and a darker purple leather that was almost black and had flecks of some glittering, reflective material set into it. He definitely liked to stand out - and was determined to represent those that hardly paid him any mind. Desperate for acknowledgment, perhaps. Or just doing everything out of habit.

"I'm majestic, thanks."