why whats wrong with it??
You abandoned the use of an apostrophe when you already demonstrated you know how to use it in a previous message. Rather than placing the question mark where it belongs, you decided two at the very end of your message was appropriate. And you seem to not understand capitalization.
And that's not accounting for the mistakes in your preceding messages at all beyond your inability to use capital letters.
And that's not accounting for the mistakes in your preceding messages at all beyond your inability to use capital letters.
WOW EXCUSE ME SHOULD I DO IT IN CURSIVE NEXT TIME I BETTER GO FIND MY WAX SEAL WHILE IM AT IT
Don't be a brat, Nero.
If you were stupid, I would understand and say nothing of it. But you're not, and I know you know better. Therefore, it is laziness that drives you to communicate the way that you do. And if you think that I would accept that as an excuse without comment then you truly have mistaken me for someone else.
Will you be at the station or not?
If you were stupid, I would understand and say nothing of it. But you're not, and I know you know better. Therefore, it is laziness that drives you to communicate the way that you do. And if you think that I would accept that as an excuse without comment then you truly have mistaken me for someone else.
Will you be at the station or not?
[But being a brat and finding a whole new vector through which to Bother Father is fun!!]
omg lighten up, will ya? It's a text message not my doctorol thesis. it's supposed to be quick, I'm not gonna give myself a headache proofreading the fuckin thing.
But hey now I know for sure it's you 😛
yeah I'll be there. If the surprise is a grammar handbook I'm gonna be pissed tho
omg lighten up, will ya? It's a text message not my doctorol thesis. it's supposed to be quick, I'm not gonna give myself a headache proofreading the fuckin thing.
But hey now I know for sure it's you 😛
yeah I'll be there. If the surprise is a grammar handbook I'm gonna be pissed tho
[And now he's not bothering to spell words all the way. Another acronym that Vergil doesn't recognize and dropped letters... The most foolish being the choice to write "fuckin." How hard is it to add a "g" to the end of it, Nero!?]
[But Vergil lets it go. There appears to be at least some vague attempt to meet him halfway at least. Vergil will satisfy himself with that for now.]
It's not, but you have certainly made Christmas easier to plan for this year.
I promise you will find the surprise well worth the walk to the station.
[But Vergil lets it go. There appears to be at least some vague attempt to meet him halfway at least. Vergil will satisfy himself with that for now.]
It's not, but you have certainly made Christmas easier to plan for this year.
I promise you will find the surprise well worth the walk to the station.
OK SEE YOU THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡
[Nero getting a strike past Vergil's guard is not an unheard of thing. Nero is better than he tends to give himself credit for when it comes to their sparring. His instincts over the past few months seem to be improving as he's gotten to know more of Vergil's technique. He still isn't able to read Vergil as well as Dante, but that's the decades of their combined experience and the connection between twin brothers at play more than some deficit in Nero being reflected. It's also not even all that unusual for his strikes to knock Vergil towards the ground. Vergil is just so quick to catch himself that he's on his feet and striking back before Nero can have the opportunity to gloat in the moment about getting a hit in on his old man.]
[So, it's not the hit or the trajectory, but rather that lack of response that stands out as unusual. Vergil's world spins with the strike and while he does not end up face-first in the dirt—he has enough in him to at least still land comfortably—he does not surge forward and retaliate. Vergil blinks at Nero instead, waiting for the vertigo to pass. They've been at it for a while now, but he breathes a little harder and harsher. It's not quite as though he's out of breath or thoroughly exhausted, but training with Nero usually leaves him relatively physically unaffected by its end most days.]
So much for pulling your punches... [he mutters to himself. The ground still appears to be swaying, but Vergil simply uses Yamato to keep himself steadier when he rises back to his feet. Standing does not alleviate the lightheaded sensation, but he does not begin to sway or wobble when he opts to sheathe his blade for the moment. Vergil puts a hand to his forehead, bowing his head a little as he squeezes his eyes shut to remove the visual input out of the equation. He masks the move by running his hand through his hair, pretending to return any loosened strands back where they belong.] Not bad, but I won't let you do that again.
[So, it's not the hit or the trajectory, but rather that lack of response that stands out as unusual. Vergil's world spins with the strike and while he does not end up face-first in the dirt—he has enough in him to at least still land comfortably—he does not surge forward and retaliate. Vergil blinks at Nero instead, waiting for the vertigo to pass. They've been at it for a while now, but he breathes a little harder and harsher. It's not quite as though he's out of breath or thoroughly exhausted, but training with Nero usually leaves him relatively physically unaffected by its end most days.]
So much for pulling your punches... [he mutters to himself. The ground still appears to be swaying, but Vergil simply uses Yamato to keep himself steadier when he rises back to his feet. Standing does not alleviate the lightheaded sensation, but he does not begin to sway or wobble when he opts to sheathe his blade for the moment. Vergil puts a hand to his forehead, bowing his head a little as he squeezes his eyes shut to remove the visual input out of the equation. He masks the move by running his hand through his hair, pretending to return any loosened strands back where they belong.] Not bad, but I won't let you do that again.
[Nero's proud of his improvement over the past few months. It's still nowhere near as strong as he'd like to be, and Vergil still gives him quite a thrashing more often than not, but he's at least more emotionally balanced now. He's not had another meltdown the level of that embarrassment after their first session-- if only by intense effort to bite down on his frustration altogether, refusing to demonstrate the bulk of it until he's on his own later working on his heavy bag in the garage. (He has broken it four times already.)
Today, he's doing... fine enough. A few good hits, a few more dumb mistakes. But he's starting to learn his own potential, finally getting the hang of the new skills his blood grants him. And that means he can improvise-- Nero's absolute specialty when it comes to battle. Intense skill and masterful planning and extensive experience are all powerful tools in one's arsenal, but so is the ability to make up some wild shit that nobody will ever expect. This is how he manages to whip out a wing in midair, pluck Vergil out of their bladelocked clash, then sock him hard with the other wing, sending him to the dirt.
Yes, he is extremely proud of this, looking smugger than hell when he lands in front of Vergil. But he knows his father well enough by now to know there ought to have been a follow-up there. Even if he's not sure what, something has already struck him as "weird." The lack of retaliation, sure but also... is he... breathing heavy?]
If I did, I'd never hear the end of it from you. [Pull punches, that is. Vergil never does (or at least, never admits to it...) so why should he?
Red Queen's ready for more (Nero generally refrains from shooting bullets at his damn showoff of a dad, if only because it's a waste of bullets.) But Nero hesitates. It is that "weird" feeling that prevents Nero from rushing in for a follow-up while his father stands there... fixing his hair??]
You need a breather, old man? Did I hit you too hard?
Today, he's doing... fine enough. A few good hits, a few more dumb mistakes. But he's starting to learn his own potential, finally getting the hang of the new skills his blood grants him. And that means he can improvise-- Nero's absolute specialty when it comes to battle. Intense skill and masterful planning and extensive experience are all powerful tools in one's arsenal, but so is the ability to make up some wild shit that nobody will ever expect. This is how he manages to whip out a wing in midair, pluck Vergil out of their bladelocked clash, then sock him hard with the other wing, sending him to the dirt.
Yes, he is extremely proud of this, looking smugger than hell when he lands in front of Vergil. But he knows his father well enough by now to know there ought to have been a follow-up there. Even if he's not sure what, something has already struck him as "weird." The lack of retaliation, sure but also... is he... breathing heavy?]
If I did, I'd never hear the end of it from you. [Pull punches, that is. Vergil never does (or at least, never admits to it...) so why should he?
Red Queen's ready for more (Nero generally refrains from shooting bullets at his damn showoff of a dad, if only because it's a waste of bullets.) But Nero hesitates. It is that "weird" feeling that prevents Nero from rushing in for a follow-up while his father stands there... fixing his hair??]
You need a breather, old man? Did I hit you too hard?
[Vergil scoffs lightly.]
These training sessions wouldn't amount to much for you if one unexpected strike was all it took to make me yield.
[Acknowledging that aloud is where it begins to occur to Vergil that it's a bit odd the lightheadedness hasn't abated completely by now. Even if Nero had struck him hard enough to be the source for the sensation (which Vergil doesn't think he did if he gives it a bit of consideration), Vergil's natural healing factor should have put an end to the repercussions of the strike already. Vergil does not allow for this observation to slip into his expression, however, partially out of pride and partially because he does not want to spark some kind of anxiety in Nero over what is most likely a negligible matter. He's already hesitated. They both have. That's enough.]
[Vergil chooses to shake it off. He's persisted through far worse than anything Nero's done here today. A bit of dizziness is only momentarily disorienting. He can manage even if it doesn't show signs of easing up. He promised Nero the morning for this session, and Nero was going to get the whole of the morning from him. Vergil forces his breath to even out.]
There will be time for talk later. Remain focused on the task at hand, Nero.
These training sessions wouldn't amount to much for you if one unexpected strike was all it took to make me yield.
[Acknowledging that aloud is where it begins to occur to Vergil that it's a bit odd the lightheadedness hasn't abated completely by now. Even if Nero had struck him hard enough to be the source for the sensation (which Vergil doesn't think he did if he gives it a bit of consideration), Vergil's natural healing factor should have put an end to the repercussions of the strike already. Vergil does not allow for this observation to slip into his expression, however, partially out of pride and partially because he does not want to spark some kind of anxiety in Nero over what is most likely a negligible matter. He's already hesitated. They both have. That's enough.]
[Vergil chooses to shake it off. He's persisted through far worse than anything Nero's done here today. A bit of dizziness is only momentarily disorienting. He can manage even if it doesn't show signs of easing up. He promised Nero the morning for this session, and Nero was going to get the whole of the morning from him. Vergil forces his breath to even out.]
There will be time for talk later. Remain focused on the task at hand, Nero.
[Psssh. Stubborn old ass. Whatever it was, it seems to have passed enough to let Vergil start yapping at him about being unfocused. So he's fine.]
Hey, I'm focused. [He slings Red Queen back over his shoulder and plants his feet in a ready stance.] Square up, Pops.
[He watches Vergil like a hawk, waiting for him to make the first move. He's found that striking first himself generally ends in Vergil easily reading him and interrupting. So rather than immediately get stymied or play defense for long, he likes to leave himself open, then try to counter.]
Hey, I'm focused. [He slings Red Queen back over his shoulder and plants his feet in a ready stance.] Square up, Pops.
[He watches Vergil like a hawk, waiting for him to make the first move. He's found that striking first himself generally ends in Vergil easily reading him and interrupting. So rather than immediately get stymied or play defense for long, he likes to leave himself open, then try to counter.]
[One might consider it cocksure to allow Vergil to set the tempo without a weapon in hand, but Vergil doesn't leap to such a conclusion right away. If there is one thing Nero is showing signs of improvement with, it's learning to read his opponent and letting his response be more thoughtful than just a display of raw power and strength. He's imperfect at it and Vergil's feints deceive him into moving right where Vergil can knock him to the ground, but Nero is improving.]
[Vergil moves himself into a ready position for just a moment before he surges forward. But his aim is not so direct a path. A flurry of mirage blades are made manifest and sling ahead of him to where Nero stands. (On those, Vergil does hold back for these training sessions. There's still force behind them, but they always shatter before they can pierce skin. It's one thing to bruise, another to cut.) They serve as distraction though as Vergil teleports to strike with a sheathed Yamato to take Nero out at the knees if he's not paying close enough attention. At least, that's the plan and what Vergil ultimately follows through on enacting. But it is with significantly less finesse and precision than Vergil anticipated that he does so.]
[In all his years, Vergil's speed has never bothered him. And yet that lightheadedness comes back in full force once he's come to an abrupt stop, and he feels his stomach do a flip. Something absolutely isn't right.]
[Vergil moves himself into a ready position for just a moment before he surges forward. But his aim is not so direct a path. A flurry of mirage blades are made manifest and sling ahead of him to where Nero stands. (On those, Vergil does hold back for these training sessions. There's still force behind them, but they always shatter before they can pierce skin. It's one thing to bruise, another to cut.) They serve as distraction though as Vergil teleports to strike with a sheathed Yamato to take Nero out at the knees if he's not paying close enough attention. At least, that's the plan and what Vergil ultimately follows through on enacting. But it is with significantly less finesse and precision than Vergil anticipated that he does so.]
[In all his years, Vergil's speed has never bothered him. And yet that lightheadedness comes back in full force once he's come to an abrupt stop, and he feels his stomach do a flip. Something absolutely isn't right.]
[He could just get out of the way altogether. But that's boring! So instead Nero jukes to the side, just enough to miss the mirage blades, and when Vergil blinks out of sight he knows exactly where he's going-- if not what he's planning to do there. But either way, the moment he sees the blur blur that is his father doing the bullshit trick shit again, Nero springs up with a high jump. It is probably showing off to then kickflip off of Vergil's shoulder and into a backflip... but at least it isn't his face.
He draws Red Queen mid-flip and brings her down in a slam that misses Vergil, by design. It's more of a distraction so he can kick his dad's legs out from under him, an echo of the same move he just tried.]
He draws Red Queen mid-flip and brings her down in a slam that misses Vergil, by design. It's more of a distraction so he can kick his dad's legs out from under him, an echo of the same move he just tried.]
[It's hardly the first time Vergil has served as a springboard for Nero. It would be an unusual bit of sparring if Nero didn't do something like that at some point with his fondness for flashy, unnecessary flips. (And Vergil cannot even blame Dante for that. He may have fanned the flames, but it's become abundantly clear to Vergil that wrestling is what began the spark for such flashiness.) But where Vergil usually remains unmovable despite the force it takes, his increasingly swimming vision puts him at a stagger instead. Nero's swipe at his legs almost entirely unnecessary. Too focused on trying to regain steadiness on his feet, Vergil can't even begin to attend to what Nero is doing beyond Red Queen scraping at dirt and spraying earth everywhere. He isn't able to parry or move the sweep to his legs, and everything visually moves so quickly and at odd angles that he cannot comprehend where the ground is meant to be. He swiftly joins the blade in colliding with the ground, slamming into it with enough force that it completely knocks the wind out of him.]
[Vergil is quick to move out of that position on his back, but not for the purposes of their sparring. Yamato lightly clatters on the ground beside him as Vergil rolls over and pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. He's not sure if it's the lightheadedness or the coughing fit that ensued with all the air leaving his lungs, but Vergil's stomach abruptly upends all of its contents all the same.]
[When it's over, Vergil tentatively and slowly sits further back on his knees. One arm holds his stomach while he keeps the other firmly planted on the ground. He doesn't quite trust sitting all the way back just yet. Not while he's trying to catch his breath and the occasional cough escapes him. He closes his eyes as he focuses on evening out his breath.]
I'm fine... [he says almost reflexively either in response to something Nero said or preempting it. Vergil isn't entirely sure, and frankly doesn't care right this moment which it is. The point is that he does not need Nero working himself up over this. Something isn't right, but Vergil isn't in any sort of danger because of it and, most importantly, Nero had nothing to do with it. He just needs a moment at the least, and at the most, they're likely done sparring for the day.]
[Vergil is quick to move out of that position on his back, but not for the purposes of their sparring. Yamato lightly clatters on the ground beside him as Vergil rolls over and pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. He's not sure if it's the lightheadedness or the coughing fit that ensued with all the air leaving his lungs, but Vergil's stomach abruptly upends all of its contents all the same.]
[When it's over, Vergil tentatively and slowly sits further back on his knees. One arm holds his stomach while he keeps the other firmly planted on the ground. He doesn't quite trust sitting all the way back just yet. Not while he's trying to catch his breath and the occasional cough escapes him. He closes his eyes as he focuses on evening out his breath.]
I'm fine... [he says almost reflexively either in response to something Nero said or preempting it. Vergil isn't entirely sure, and frankly doesn't care right this moment which it is. The point is that he does not need Nero working himself up over this. Something isn't right, but Vergil isn't in any sort of danger because of it and, most importantly, Nero had nothing to do with it. He just needs a moment at the least, and at the most, they're likely done sparring for the day.]
[He's... kind of surprised that worked so well. Sending Vergil staggering is not something he's NEVER done, but never quite this hard. And he does not take his hands off Yamato, ever, so when Nero hears that clattering he's immediately out of the fight and attentive.
Right in time to watch Vergil throw up.]
Holy fuck, Dad!
[Fucking hell!! Did he hit him THAT hard???
Red Queen hits the dirt alongside Yamato and Nero is immediately by his side, a hand on his shoulder.]
Are you okay? [Asked decisively after Vergil has already said he's fine. Because Nero didn't believe him.]
Right in time to watch Vergil throw up.]
Holy fuck, Dad!
[Fucking hell!! Did he hit him THAT hard???
Red Queen hits the dirt alongside Yamato and Nero is immediately by his side, a hand on his shoulder.]
Are you okay? [Asked decisively after Vergil has already said he's fine. Because Nero didn't believe him.]
[Vergil feels more vulnerable than he would like, and there's an instinctive part of him that wants to shrug the hand on his shoulder off. But he's just cognizant enough not to give into that instinct.]
I'm fine, [he says, firmly as he opens his eyes again. Vergil may not be willing to be so physically dismissive of Nero, but verbally? He can only temper that so much right now. Turning his head aside, Vergil spits. It's not enough to get the unpleasant taste off the back of his tongue, but it's better than nothing. He fully sits up, a little more confident that his stomach is closer to empty than not. With his now free hand, he pats the hand on his shoulder and says,] I just need a moment. That's all.
I'm fine, [he says, firmly as he opens his eyes again. Vergil may not be willing to be so physically dismissive of Nero, but verbally? He can only temper that so much right now. Turning his head aside, Vergil spits. It's not enough to get the unpleasant taste off the back of his tongue, but it's better than nothing. He fully sits up, a little more confident that his stomach is closer to empty than not. With his now free hand, he pats the hand on his shoulder and says,] I just need a moment. That's all.
[Un/fortunately for Vergil, his vulnerability just makes Nero want to rush in and protect and care. He's got a bewildered sort of worried glare on his face as he watches his father recover.
Vergil expresses that he needs a moment, so after Nero slowly withdraws his hand. He puts out a finger in the "one sec" gesture and then heads over to his bag, which has been sitting off to the side since the spar started. Inside (along with ibuprofen and gauze) is his water bottle, which he brings over to Vergil and offers, crouching beside him.
And the only coherent thing he can put words to right now comes spilling out.]
Fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit you that hard.
Vergil expresses that he needs a moment, so after Nero slowly withdraws his hand. He puts out a finger in the "one sec" gesture and then heads over to his bag, which has been sitting off to the side since the spar started. Inside (along with ibuprofen and gauze) is his water bottle, which he brings over to Vergil and offers, crouching beside him.
And the only coherent thing he can put words to right now comes spilling out.]
Fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit you that hard.
[Vergil watches Nero as he steps away to fetch his water bottle. He does not reach for it right away. Not until his apology comes spilling out the way it does. Vergil reaches for the water bottle then.]
Nero, stop. [Being still now allows for Vergil to more easily hold Nero's gaze. Vergil looks at him with a furrow in his brow, his expression serious and firm. He doesn't want Nero blaming himself or apologizing. Even if he were solely responsible, Vergil wouldn't accept it.] Whatever this, you know I spar harder with others.
[Mizu and Vergil only hold back as far as avoiding anything that could kill the other. Dante and Vergil go until they both dread the thought of moving any longer that they are so tired and sore. Nero is more of an outlier in that regard. Vergil doesn't exactly take it easy on him, but neither does he demand Nero approach these training sessions with the same intensity as even Dante.]
[Vergil takes a swig of water to swish around in his mouth, turning his head aside to spit it out again before taking an actual sip.]
Nero, stop. [Being still now allows for Vergil to more easily hold Nero's gaze. Vergil looks at him with a furrow in his brow, his expression serious and firm. He doesn't want Nero blaming himself or apologizing. Even if he were solely responsible, Vergil wouldn't accept it.] Whatever this, you know I spar harder with others.
[Mizu and Vergil only hold back as far as avoiding anything that could kill the other. Dante and Vergil go until they both dread the thought of moving any longer that they are so tired and sore. Nero is more of an outlier in that regard. Vergil doesn't exactly take it easy on him, but neither does he demand Nero approach these training sessions with the same intensity as even Dante.]
[Vergil takes a swig of water to swish around in his mouth, turning his head aside to spit it out again before taking an actual sip.]
[The glare gets a little bit grumpier at the brushoff, even though he speaks fluent enough Vergil now to know it's his attempt to assuage his worries. It works in the sense that now he's more irritated than he is actively worried.]
Yeah, well. Wouldn't be the first time I did that to someone.
[Also if Vergil thinks that's going to discourage the concern entirely, he's wrong.]
Either way, we can call it if you're not feeling hot.
Yeah, well. Wouldn't be the first time I did that to someone.
[Also if Vergil thinks that's going to discourage the concern entirely, he's wrong.]
Either way, we can call it if you're not feeling hot.
[You know what has a great warming effect?
Showers.
Especially after being up in the mountains and developing a headcold. The steam has helped a lot and Kyrie has emerged from the adjoining en-suite wearing makeshift pjs and bundled up in a hoodie that is definitely too big and smells too much like Nero to be hers.
Honestly, she's appreciated having some time to herself to wrap her head around everything that's happened today because it has been a lot to come to terms with and try to keep her usual, positive outlook on things. It's been a relief to drop her guard and just let the hot water wash over her and process. She's exhausted, she's very probably going to be sleeping poorly tonight with a cold coming on as well as sleeping in a strange place for the first time. She hadn't realised just how drained she feels until she'd stepped under the shower head.
She's busy toweling her hair dry as she steps back into the bedroom and announces her presence with a smile and a cheerful:]
Bathroom's all yours!
[The show must go on.]
Showers.
Especially after being up in the mountains and developing a headcold. The steam has helped a lot and Kyrie has emerged from the adjoining en-suite wearing makeshift pjs and bundled up in a hoodie that is definitely too big and smells too much like Nero to be hers.
Honestly, she's appreciated having some time to herself to wrap her head around everything that's happened today because it has been a lot to come to terms with and try to keep her usual, positive outlook on things. It's been a relief to drop her guard and just let the hot water wash over her and process. She's exhausted, she's very probably going to be sleeping poorly tonight with a cold coming on as well as sleeping in a strange place for the first time. She hadn't realised just how drained she feels until she'd stepped under the shower head.
She's busy toweling her hair dry as she steps back into the bedroom and announces her presence with a smile and a cheerful:]
Bathroom's all yours!
[The show must go on.]
[On one hand, Nero is still reeling in the overwhelming surge of emotion that hit him like a truck earlier. Kyrie, here? Safe? After months and months of missing her like someone had cut his heart out of his chest? Found safely and rescued gallantly by Vergil? And neither of them had horribly alienated the other by the time Nero caught up with them? It's like a dream come true.
But there is still a lot... a lot that Kyrie needs to be caught up on. Things he was ready to tell her seven months ago now, but so much has changed. He's changed. And Vergil has too. So he wants to be very, very careful about how he catches Kyrie up to speed. If he manages to do it without her storming out of the house or throwing kitchenware at a devastated Vergil, then he'll have succeeded.
And if not? No. No, he simply refuses to consider it.
When Kyrie emerges from the shower he is actually lying facedown on the bed. He's dressed down to one of his workout tanktops and a pair of sweats, but he sits up on an elbow as soon as she's present.
He can't help but smile like an absolute smitten buffoon just looking at her. It's really her. Here.]
I'm good. You feel any warmer?
But there is still a lot... a lot that Kyrie needs to be caught up on. Things he was ready to tell her seven months ago now, but so much has changed. He's changed. And Vergil has too. So he wants to be very, very careful about how he catches Kyrie up to speed. If he manages to do it without her storming out of the house or throwing kitchenware at a devastated Vergil, then he'll have succeeded.
And if not? No. No, he simply refuses to consider it.
When Kyrie emerges from the shower he is actually lying facedown on the bed. He's dressed down to one of his workout tanktops and a pair of sweats, but he sits up on an elbow as soon as she's present.
He can't help but smile like an absolute smitten buffoon just looking at her. It's really her. Here.]
I'm good. You feel any warmer?
Mm-hmm, warm and toasty. That's a really nice shower you have.
[Case in point, the pink flush on her skin and the rosy cheeks that may or may not also have something to do with appreciating Nero in his tanktop. Her eyes flit down to his right arm, whole and human again, and once again she marvels at the utterly incredible things her beloved seems to be able to accomplish.
She quickly twists the towel into a turban and smiles back at him when she catches him grinning at her. She knows that face. She's missed that face. It's only been a few weeks for her, she can't even imagine being parted from him for seven months.
So, taking his smile for an invitation (and feeling emboldened by the knowledge that the door is shut and the house is empty), she helps herself to the bed and scrambles across until she's able to snuggle up against him and scoop him into a hug.]
And you make a pretty good hot-water bottle.
[Case in point, the pink flush on her skin and the rosy cheeks that may or may not also have something to do with appreciating Nero in his tanktop. Her eyes flit down to his right arm, whole and human again, and once again she marvels at the utterly incredible things her beloved seems to be able to accomplish.
She quickly twists the towel into a turban and smiles back at him when she catches him grinning at her. She knows that face. She's missed that face. It's only been a few weeks for her, she can't even imagine being parted from him for seven months.
So, taking his smile for an invitation (and feeling emboldened by the knowledge that the door is shut and the house is empty), she helps herself to the bed and scrambles across until she's able to snuggle up against him and scoop him into a hug.]
And you make a pretty good hot-water bottle.
Anytime!
[He opens his arms to welcome her, rolling up with her and stopping only when he's afraid he might smoosh her. This leaves him on his opposite side, cradling her close but not so close he can't look at her.
He lifts two fingers to tuck her hair out of her face.]
So it's all a... really long story. I won't bore you if you're tired tonight, but...
[He opens his arms to welcome her, rolling up with her and stopping only when he's afraid he might smoosh her. This leaves him on his opposite side, cradling her close but not so close he can't look at her.
He lifts two fingers to tuck her hair out of her face.]
So it's all a... really long story. I won't bore you if you're tired tonight, but...
[Dang it, towels just can't contain her hair, but Kyrie doesn't mind in the slightest. She twists to get rid of it, tossing it towards the bathroom door so she can remember to put it back later, and nestles in closer as she looks up at him.]
You know you could never bore me, but maybe you can keep the gruesome parts to a minimum so I don't have to imagine what went on.
[It's bad enough knowing that he risks his life on a regular basis without having to hear about the gore and bloodshed, honestly. She reaches across to skim her fingertips up and down his right arm, still not used to the novelty of touching smooth, human skin where there had been hard metal so recently, and before that, demonic scales and glowing light for so long.]
But absolutely don't hold back on the important parts, I want to know everything.
You know you could never bore me, but maybe you can keep the gruesome parts to a minimum so I don't have to imagine what went on.
[It's bad enough knowing that he risks his life on a regular basis without having to hear about the gore and bloodshed, honestly. She reaches across to skim her fingertips up and down his right arm, still not used to the novelty of touching smooth, human skin where there had been hard metal so recently, and before that, demonic scales and glowing light for so long.]
But absolutely don't hold back on the important parts, I want to know everything.
[Nero surrenders his arm for inspection. Some part of him hopes it passes, even when he realizes what a ridiculous thing that is to worry about a few seconds later.]
Man... where do I even start?
[How far back does he go? There's a lot of this he doesn't even really know for certain, but has surmised or put together from the pieces of the puzzle he does have.
Well. At the very beginning, maybe, would be a good spot.]
Okay. So... Dante is Sparda's son. And Vergil is Dante's twin brother. And one time Vergil went to Fortuna and he... he met my mother. Her name was Beatrice.
[He sighs, honestly wishing he knew more than he does about this part. But Kyrie knows full and well how clueless he'd been about his origins as a kid.]
He didn't know about me. And he doesn't know what happened to her. But that's where I came from, I guess.
Man... where do I even start?
[How far back does he go? There's a lot of this he doesn't even really know for certain, but has surmised or put together from the pieces of the puzzle he does have.
Well. At the very beginning, maybe, would be a good spot.]
Okay. So... Dante is Sparda's son. And Vergil is Dante's twin brother. And one time Vergil went to Fortuna and he... he met my mother. Her name was Beatrice.
[He sighs, honestly wishing he knew more than he does about this part. But Kyrie knows full and well how clueless he'd been about his origins as a kid.]
He didn't know about me. And he doesn't know what happened to her. But that's where I came from, I guess.
Edited 2025-05-22 20:04 (UTC)
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