Mark
Mark and Marijuana were sitting across the table from each other, only because Mark had chosen to sit down next to his fiance upon entering the restaurant. He regretted the choice now, only because he was sitting too far from the younger god to reach out and grab him as soon as he felt the power begin emanating from him. As it was, the only thing he could do --sans jumping over the table-- was speak. “Marijuana.” Thomas’ reaction to the power used over him was just a reminder of why he never exerted control over his own constituents. It was too easy and, he could see from the look on his son’s face, far, far too cruel. Mortals and gods alike had Free Will for a reason, and it wasn’t for others to bend it for them. “Marijuana, what the hell are you doing? Stop it.”
Bret could say what he wanted about their parenting, but this was one practice that Mark hadn’t approved of. He started to push up from his seat, but Bret stood first, and Thomas was grabbing on to him instead of looking to either of his parents for help. Mark sat back down.
His gaze turned to Glibt, but the expression on his face was changing by the second. It was only out of the corner of his eye that he saw Bret take out his cell phone, but he recognised the voice on the other end almost instantly. the three of you don’t have to worry about Tommy. It was possible that Glibt would realise later that Mark had never looked at him with such an angry or betrayed expression before, even if it was only a minute second before Mark simply decided that he couldn’t look at his fiance any longer without starting a fight there as well.
He didn’t bother trying to stop Thomas and Bret from leaving, knowing that nothing there was going to change in an instant. There were no words that were going to fix this right now. Mark looked at Marijuana instead, leveling on him a glower fueled by both his anger at Glibt and his disapproval of Marijuana’s actions. “Good. Fucking. Job. What the hell were you thinking? You don’t put your fingers in your kid’s mind.”