[ he may have halfway been avoiding nero, as much as he could. He would still speak with him, sit with him during dinner, certainly. But he would make quick excuses to leave the room before any conversations got too deep; would go to bed early to not hang around too long to show the guilt in his eyes.
But of course, such a thing can't last forever. Perhaps Nero had started to notice the quiet growing. The boy was way smarter than he acted, after all--and soon, the other is next to him. And there's no getting up and walking away this time: vergil can just feel it.
He's in his study, in one of those red velvet lounging seats with a book in his hand. It's in some foreign language and he pretends, for the first few moments, to be engrossed in his reading before he looks up. Reaching to pull the thin set of reading glasses off his face to slowly shift his head to awknowledge the others' presence.
...He lets out a small breath, steeling himself for what is likely to come. ]
Better than most days. I believe that while the memories will not fade anytime soon, I am at least healing from them, day by day. [ maybe if he talks about the krusnik incident. nero won't bring up the library. ]
[He's noticed- Nox hasn't really said anything about it because honestly? He can't blame Vergil here. There's no easy way to talk about this, let alone even getting it started. But Nox also knows that they eventually have to talk about this. Their relationship as family will stagnate if they don't.
So Vergil's response gets a brow raise, before Nox gently puts a hand on his father's arm, eying the book but focusing back on the conversation.]
You know we're here for that if you ever need it, yeah? Not gonna let you struggle through it alone.
[But that's not what I'm asking about goes unsaid, the touch on Vergil's arm a firm one, but also kind. He's trying to tell him that it's okay if something else is bothering him too. He's not about to go anywhere, really.]
[ the words are too kind. They make him itch. The words are clearly digging--while not directly asking him if there was something bothering him, they held that tone that had an easy message: there's something wrong, and i'm here to talk about it.
again, the question swirls in his mind: Why. Nero should hate him. Nero should not be even 10% this emotionally available, knowing what he knows. Why is there no grudge? Why? ]
Nero.
[ he starts. His name, to get his attention, and while he doesn't pull his arm away from Nero, he doesn't invite it closer. His own body language a little closed off, half-turned, eyes down, brow furrowed. ]
You mentioned before. When we first met. That you had visited the library belonging to Alexander the Great. That you read a tale of your own life in those books.
[The sheer fact that Vergil doesn't seem to do anything with Nox's touch sets off so many alarms in his head. It causes him to pause, but there's no time to react more as he hears what seems to be the main thing eating at his father.
... you read a tale of your own life... You read all of it.
...last year, he'd found that book on his past life. Read most of it- skimmed in parts here and there, but he made sure to understand before he kept reading further. Got to the end and had put the book down, moving onto Kyrie's and Credo's. It wasn't until he'd read Vergil's book, that the memory came to him.
(How he'd been in the garage, elbow deep in the van's engine and fixing her before Nico had gone to help Kyrie in the house. How a figure showed up just outside the garage door, and Nero had invited him in, thinking the person was a straggler. How looking away had only brought the stranger closer, and his demonic arm had flared as a warning, Kyrie calling out to him. Nero had gone to warn her, and he'd gotten slammed into the back shelves and had his arm torn out, bleeding into the floor. How everything just went dark and muted, and the last thing he remembered before slipping away was the howl of his demon suddenly cut short.)
It'd hit him so quickly he'd fainted from the sheer phantom pain that was brought back to his memory.]
[Nox knows where this is going. It's something he's been expecting, really. How could he not? It was bound to happen, the way things are for them, how memories come at the worst time and sometimes you learn something about yourself that you didn't ever realize was true before.
That still doesn't make any of this easier for either of them.
His mouth goes into a firm line, and he exhales.]
I read mine, Kyrie's, and Credo's. I figured since my family probably wasn't coming here, those two would be my first.
[It's true, honestly. It's also why he read parts of the twin's books too.]
[ it's a hard topic to breach. Half because he cannot figure out what box to compartmentalize these feelings in--much less breach the topic of what it is, exactly, that's been on his mind.
Listening to Nero talk is the easy part. He can close his eyes and listen to him, let his breathing become manual, think about what the other is saying. Picking apart the words, as he nods.
He ... read the words, and he'd gotten the memory in tandem. The feeling of tearing muscle from bone, tendon from socket, sector from sein. Throwing Nero over his shoulder as if the young man had been made out of paper--twisting where humanoid skin met the scaly, yet soft, ribbled blue leather that was his demonic arm.
clutching it in his hand like it'd belonged to him.
The tang of blood on his tongue, the electric feeling of being reunited with his sword, like an old friend.
He'd experienced the lattermost recently, when a certain skeleton had brought it to his door, but... ]
Just those two? Or did you read ours, as well. I ... remember you bringing up that you thought you may well never have seen the day where Dante nor I would come to this place.
...Reading our books would have been understandable.
It is likely I would have red yours, were our places switched.
[It's a long moment, at that. One where Nox listens and braces himself as he hears the question. This was something he couldn't lie about- but he didn't like saying he read someone's life without their consent, even if it was just to know who they were.
So as the seconds pass, Vergil may be surprised as Nox exhales, hesitating.]
Yeah. [He pauses, swallows, looking away before looking back at Vergil. Breathes and tries to voice the thing that's been stuck in his mind for the longest time.] Read most of them, anyway. All of Dante's and a chunk of yours- [His voice trails off for a moment.] Got too upset at reading your life and kind of tossed the book down, after Temen-ni-gru.
[And then it had opened on when Vergil had torn out his arm, and he'd fainted onto the library floor.
Nox's teeth clench for a second, his demon getting agitated.] You're the first I've told this to- I haven't told August, haven't told Dante. And I don't know how well Dante'd take it if I just... admitted to him I read his book. He kept me at arm's length all the time because he wanted to keep me safe, you know? And I know I'd have been fucking mad at first if I heard about someone reading my shit.
[Nero would have been pissed. He'd understand, eventually, but his temper would have gotten the better of him and held a grudge for a time.
Through this entire conversation, Nox hasn't let go of Vergil's arm.]
[ he's still painfully aware of Nero's hand on his arm. It's almost loud--the knowledge that it's still lingering there. The sensation between his own fingers from the time he'd rested said arm out of socket--he finds himself curling his fingers in towards his palm as he continues to avoid Nero's gaze, despite listening to his voice. His ... overly reasonable confessions, his concerns about Dante...
He raises his other hand--the one not currently pinned down by the monumental weight of Nero's touch--to drag over the lower half of his face, to grasp his fingers over his mouth as he tries to train his expression into something less stressed than he's feeling.
It's not working. ]
He is right for wanting to keep you safe. [ that's easy enough to say, but.
He moves his hand now. Gripping Nero's wrist.
And pulling it off himself. Pushing him away, as if he's trying to get the other away from him. ] It is something that he has at least, always done. Since he first met you.
Where I, on the other hand, nearly killed you on our first meeting.
[Honestly, he'd meant the touch to be a comfort as well as a presence, with nothing malicious attached. He's unaware of how loud his touch is at this point, only wanting to connect and try to figure out what's going on.
Still... There's a lot of things Nox expects to happen- but his wrist being grabbed and then pulled off of his father's wasn't one of them. There's a balk at the motion, his eyes flicking to Vergil in surprise. Until he hears what's said.
Ffffffuck, he knew this was the reason and he's still getting hit by it all the same.]
Hey, c'mon. It's fine. [Nox may have been pushed away, but he's already trying to reach out again. To try and get the point across that he doesn't care what happened. That Vergil still means so much to him, and to have him be this kind of withdrawn absolutely sucks.]
It's fine. [He's not mad, or upset, he's okay with it. It was fine for him in his past life, and it's still fine even now.]
[ he says the first sentence quietly, simply--much like every other sentence he's given to Nero in the present and past. Lightly questioning, but there's a... flicker, on the other side of those bright blue eyes. He remembers the look on Nero's face, spattered with his own blood as he realised his arm was ...
Warmth was under his fingers, a limb gripped tightly in his hand--transforming into the Yamato--
His eyes flick up and sear a glare into Nero's eyes. ]
How is it fine.
I threw you away without a thought, tore your arm off, and left you for dead. All over some desperate outcry for power that I felt I needed. That I never needed, and was blinded by.
How is that Fine.
Why do you not loathe the very ground I walk upon?
[He isn't wrong. Nox knows he isn't. Any normal and sane person would think the same. Nero had chased after that demon straggler, the one who took his arm, through the entire qliphoth, hellbent on settling a score.
...until he learned that that demon was his father.
It was the biggest blow to everything he knew. An orphan, a pariah, a black sheep who had to fight tooth and nail to even get the respect he had those days in Fortuna, long after the demons had disappeared. He had no family of his own, so he made his own. Now, he had an actual family- real, blood family. It shattered his certainty about all of this, left him unsure of where to go, until a simple sentence reminded him of the truth of it all.
"You've always known right from wrong."]
Vergil, listen to me. [He tries to grab Vergil's wrist, tries to make him hear what he's saying.] You didn't know. Neither of us did. That whole thing? I was fucking mad as hell, you remember how I fought you at the top of the qliphoth.
But once I knew who you were, and what Dante planned to do? It didn't matter to me anymore, because I suddenly realized I had the one thing I wanted my whole life- a family. And more importantly, I had to save you two from doing something you'd regret for the rest of your life.
So no, I don't. I'm not mad about it- not then, not now. [Blue eyes that stare right back at the glare, just as fierce, just as stubborn.] Perché questa famiglia è tutto per me.
[Speaking abruptly in Italian isn't always common for Nox, but here he says it to make a point, so Vergil understands. Losing an arm was horrible, awful, it put him into a coma for weeks- but it pales by miles in comparison to losing any type of family he actually has.
Nero had already lost family once, after all. He refused to let it ever happen again, and that wasn't going to change. Even if said family tore off his arm and left him to die.]
[ family should stop at your father leaving you and your mother up the lurch without a light and then returning to literally tear you limb from limb.
But that's clearly only Vergil's opinion, though, because Nero just... pushes forward. Grabbing his arm. Explaining himself. of course he remembers the fight on the qliphoth--it was one of his brightest, most vivid memories, after all.
And then, above all else, the boy speaks Italian at him. The words are clearly practiced, like he'd been going over this sentence numerous times before even attempting to speak them at Vergil.
So it's enough to stun the fussy antiquarian into a sort of awed--maybe even ashamed silence. He quickly tears his eyes away from the other, as if to hide the expression, or at least pull it away enough so he can reign it in. Quiet. Frustrated. ]
...Family who deserves you should be everything to you. [ he closes his eyes. Letting out a very tired, quiet sigh. Almost a sound like defeat--because it's this moment that he knows; just by the determination and drive in Nero's voice--the look in those grey-silver eyes?
There's no arguing with the boy. No matter what he says here.... he won't win.
And oh, how he loathes to lose. So perhaps. Admitting defeat this one time is not such a terrible thing. ]
Both with sword and word. I cannot best you. That is... entirely frustrating. I used to believe that the son could never hope to surpass the father. And yet, irritatingly...
[There is a desperate need to connect, to reassure, to prove a point. That the worse things could happen and Nox would still consider him family, still want to know him, still want to be beside him.
Perché questa famiglia è tutto per me. It was a sentence he'd been practicing for weeks, if he were honest. To finally proudly admit, one day, in a conversation, how important his family is to him. This wasn't exactly what he had planned, but it suits the situation all the same.
At Vergil's first words, he shakes his head, a soft smile showing on his face.]
I don't care about deserving. You're my family. That's what matters to me.
[But, the way Vergil looks away from him, how he exhales and doesn't continue in arguing- the tension in Nox's shoulders eases, and he breathes a sigh of relief on hearing that sort of defeat.]
Hey. [Nox leans forward a little at that, hand going to Vergil's shoulder, before finally gently bumping his forehead against his father's.] Not on this, yeah. You won't convince me, no matter what.
[And then, he gives a bit of a shit-eating grin.]
Still doesn't mean I won't kick your ass anytime we fight, old man. [A beat.] Since you still insist on keeping score and all that.
oouf
But of course, such a thing can't last forever. Perhaps Nero had started to notice the quiet growing. The boy was way smarter than he acted, after all--and soon, the other is next to him. And there's no getting up and walking away this time: vergil can just feel it.
He's in his study, in one of those red velvet lounging seats with a book in his hand. It's in some foreign language and he pretends, for the first few moments, to be engrossed in his reading before he looks up. Reaching to pull the thin set of reading glasses off his face to slowly shift his head to awknowledge the others' presence.
...He lets out a small breath, steeling himself for what is likely to come. ]
Better than most days. I believe that while the memories will not fade anytime soon, I am at least healing from them, day by day. [ maybe if he talks about the krusnik incident. nero won't bring up the library. ]
time for us to die tbh
So Vergil's response gets a brow raise, before Nox gently puts a hand on his father's arm, eying the book but focusing back on the conversation.]
You know we're here for that if you ever need it, yeah? Not gonna let you struggle through it alone.
[But that's not what I'm asking about goes unsaid, the touch on Vergil's arm a firm one, but also kind. He's trying to tell him that it's okay if something else is bothering him too. He's not about to go anywhere, really.]
ill start diggin
again, the question swirls in his mind: Why. Nero should hate him. Nero should not be even 10% this emotionally available, knowing what he knows. Why is there no grudge? Why? ]
Nero.
[ he starts. His name, to get his attention, and while he doesn't pull his arm away from Nero, he doesn't invite it closer. His own body language a little closed off, half-turned, eyes down, brow furrowed. ]
You mentioned before. When we first met. That you had visited the library belonging to Alexander the Great. That you read a tale of your own life in those books.
[ just... to be sure. ]
You read all of it.
1/2 lemme grab the shovels
... you read a tale of your own life... You read all of it.
...last year, he'd found that book on his past life. Read most of it- skimmed in parts here and there, but he made sure to understand before he kept reading further. Got to the end and had put the book down, moving onto Kyrie's and Credo's. It wasn't until he'd read Vergil's book, that the memory came to him.
(How he'd been in the garage, elbow deep in the van's engine and fixing her before Nico had gone to help Kyrie in the house. How a figure showed up just outside the garage door, and Nero had invited him in, thinking the person was a straggler. How looking away had only brought the stranger closer, and his demonic arm had flared as a warning, Kyrie calling out to him. Nero had gone to warn her, and he'd gotten slammed into the back shelves and had his arm torn out, bleeding into the floor. How everything just went dark and muted, and the last thing he remembered before slipping away was the howl of his demon suddenly cut short.)
It'd hit him so quickly he'd fainted from the sheer phantom pain that was brought back to his memory.]
bc i asked for this and i am in pain
[Nox knows where this is going. It's something he's been expecting, really. How could he not? It was bound to happen, the way things are for them, how memories come at the worst time and sometimes you learn something about yourself that you didn't ever realize was true before.
That still doesn't make any of this easier for either of them.
His mouth goes into a firm line, and he exhales.]
I read mine, Kyrie's, and Credo's. I figured since my family probably wasn't coming here, those two would be my first.
[It's true, honestly. It's also why he read parts of the twin's books too.]
knife emoji
to compartmentalize these feelings in--much less breach the topic of what it is, exactly, that's been on his mind.
Listening to Nero talk is the easy part. He can close his eyes and listen to him, let his breathing become manual, think about what the other is saying. Picking apart the words, as he nods.
He ... read the words, and he'd gotten the memory in tandem. The feeling of tearing muscle from bone, tendon from socket, sector from sein. Throwing Nero over his shoulder as if the young man had been made out of paper--twisting where humanoid skin met the scaly, yet soft, ribbled blue leather that was his demonic arm.
clutching it in his hand like it'd belonged to him.
The tang of blood on his tongue, the electric feeling of being reunited with his sword, like an old friend.
He'd experienced the lattermost recently, when a certain skeleton had brought it to his door, but... ]
Just those two?
Or did you read ours, as well.
I ... remember you bringing up that you thought you may well never have seen the day where Dante nor I would come to this place.
...Reading our books would have been understandable.
It is likely I would have red yours, were our places switched.
/pdead /pdead /pdead
So as the seconds pass, Vergil may be surprised as Nox exhales, hesitating.]
Yeah. [He pauses, swallows, looking away before looking back at Vergil. Breathes and tries to voice the thing that's been stuck in his mind for the longest time.] Read most of them, anyway. All of Dante's and a chunk of yours- [His voice trails off for a moment.] Got too upset at reading your life and kind of tossed the book down, after Temen-ni-gru.
[And then it had opened on when Vergil had torn out his arm, and he'd fainted onto the library floor.
Nox's teeth clench for a second, his demon getting agitated.] You're the first I've told this to- I haven't told August, haven't told Dante. And I don't know how well Dante'd take it if I just... admitted to him I read his book. He kept me at arm's length all the time because he wanted to keep me safe, you know? And I know I'd have been fucking mad at first if I heard about someone reading my shit.
[Nero would have been pissed. He'd understand, eventually, but his temper would have gotten the better of him and held a grudge for a time.
Through this entire conversation, Nox hasn't let go of Vergil's arm.]
/dote /dote /dote
He raises his other hand--the one not currently pinned down by the monumental weight of Nero's touch--to drag over the lower half of his face, to grasp his fingers over his mouth as he tries to train his expression into something less stressed than he's feeling.
It's not working. ]
He is right for wanting to keep you safe. [ that's easy enough to say, but.
He moves his hand now. Gripping Nero's wrist.
And pulling it off himself. Pushing him away, as if he's trying to get the other away from him. ] It is something that he has at least, always done. Since he first met you.
Where I, on the other hand, nearly killed you on our first meeting.
And every meeting after that.
WAILS LOUDLY
Still... There's a lot of things Nox expects to happen- but his wrist being grabbed and then pulled off of his father's wasn't one of them. There's a balk at the motion, his eyes flicking to Vergil in surprise. Until he hears what's said.
Ffffffuck, he knew this was the reason and he's still getting hit by it all the same.]
Hey, c'mon. It's fine. [Nox may have been pushed away, but he's already trying to reach out again. To try and get the point across that he doesn't care what happened. That Vergil still means so much to him, and to have him be this kind of withdrawn absolutely sucks.]
It's fine. [He's not mad, or upset, he's okay with it. It was fine for him in his past life, and it's still fine even now.]
:sob:
[ he says the first sentence quietly, simply--much like every other sentence he's given to Nero in the present and past.
Lightly questioning, but there's a... flicker, on the other side of those bright blue eyes. He remembers the look on Nero's face, spattered with his own blood as he realised his arm was ...
Warmth was under his fingers, a limb gripped tightly in his hand--transforming into the Yamato--
His eyes flick up and sear a glare into Nero's eyes. ]
How is it fine.
I threw you away without a thought, tore your arm off, and left you for dead. All over some desperate outcry for power that I felt I needed. That I never needed, and was blinded by.
How is that Fine.
Why do you not loathe the very ground I walk upon?
no subject
...until he learned that that demon was his father.
It was the biggest blow to everything he knew. An orphan, a pariah, a black sheep who had to fight tooth and nail to even get the respect he had those days in Fortuna, long after the demons had disappeared. He had no family of his own, so he made his own. Now, he had an actual family- real, blood family. It shattered his certainty about all of this, left him unsure of where to go, until a simple sentence reminded him of the truth of it all.
"You've always known right from wrong."]
Vergil, listen to me. [He tries to grab Vergil's wrist, tries to make him hear what he's saying.] You didn't know. Neither of us did. That whole thing? I was fucking mad as hell, you remember how I fought you at the top of the qliphoth.
But once I knew who you were, and what Dante planned to do? It didn't matter to me anymore, because I suddenly realized I had the one thing I wanted my whole life- a family. And more importantly, I had to save you two from doing something you'd regret for the rest of your life.
So no, I don't. I'm not mad about it- not then, not now. [Blue eyes that stare right back at the glare, just as fierce, just as stubborn.] Perché questa famiglia è tutto per me.
[Speaking abruptly in Italian isn't always common for Nox, but here he says it to make a point, so Vergil understands. Losing an arm was horrible, awful, it put him into a coma for weeks- but it pales by miles in comparison to losing any type of family he actually has.
Nero had already lost family once, after all. He refused to let it ever happen again, and that wasn't going to change. Even if said family tore off his arm and left him to die.]
no subject
But that's clearly only Vergil's opinion, though, because Nero just... pushes forward. Grabbing his arm. Explaining himself. of course he remembers the fight on the qliphoth--it was one of his brightest, most vivid memories, after all.
And then, above all else, the boy speaks Italian at him. The words are clearly practiced, like he'd been going over this sentence numerous times before even attempting to speak them at Vergil.
So it's enough to stun the fussy antiquarian into a sort of awed--maybe even ashamed silence. He quickly tears his eyes away from the other, as if to hide the expression, or at least pull it away enough so he can reign it in. Quiet. Frustrated. ]
...Family who deserves you should be everything to you. [ he closes his eyes. Letting out a very tired, quiet sigh. Almost a sound like defeat--because it's this moment that he knows; just by the determination and drive in Nero's voice--the look in those grey-silver eyes?
There's no arguing with the boy.
No matter what he says here.... he won't win.
And oh, how he loathes to lose.
So perhaps. Admitting defeat this one time is not such a terrible thing. ]
Both with sword and word. I cannot best you.
That is... entirely frustrating.
I used to believe that the son could never hope to surpass the father. And yet, irritatingly...
no subject
Perché questa famiglia è tutto per me. It was a sentence he'd been practicing for weeks, if he were honest. To finally proudly admit, one day, in a conversation, how important his family is to him. This wasn't exactly what he had planned, but it suits the situation all the same.
At Vergil's first words, he shakes his head, a soft smile showing on his face.]
I don't care about deserving. You're my family. That's what matters to me.
[But, the way Vergil looks away from him, how he exhales and doesn't continue in arguing- the tension in Nox's shoulders eases, and he breathes a sigh of relief on hearing that sort of defeat.]
Hey. [Nox leans forward a little at that, hand going to Vergil's shoulder, before finally gently bumping his forehead against his father's.] Not on this, yeah. You won't convince me, no matter what.
[And then, he gives a bit of a shit-eating grin.]
Still doesn't mean I won't kick your ass anytime we fight, old man. [A beat.] Since you still insist on keeping score and all that.