channellings | ☂ fellden inbox

[sure, simple recommendations are something klaus would do too, but the tea is right there and what's the harm in sharing? they've already kissed, meaning there's no worry about oh no, germs! or whatever.]

Sounds good to me.

[it really, truly does and as he reaches for the other cup, fruitiness isn't what's on his mind. not until he takes a drink, at least; the tea sort of bites in an unexpectedly tart way. must be the raspberries, mixed with the almost malty, black-tea taste. it's got him licking his lips with consideration while he sets the cup down. had that been an actual realization, yes, it would've been absolutely goddamn embarrassing.] Oh, wow, I was right.

[ He hooks the handle of Klaus's cup with one finger, pulling it over. It's warmer than his own, he lets it warm his hand for a moment before lifting it to taste. V is picky and opinionated about the things he consumes. He was, quite honestly, a bit childlike in the fact that his tastebuds often didn't even know what it was they were tasting. The relay to his brain was garbled nonsense that V took to mean it did not taste good. ]

That's... overwhelming. But thank you.

[ You can definitely have it back, but V is at least smiling, or is for the time being. ]

I thought I might, hm... [ Awkward. His heart jumps in his throat. ] Tell you an abbreviated version of where I came from, just so you'd have some understanding.

[ That's what they're here for, sure he'll wait for assent and the reassurance that he doesn't have to, but he direly just wants to get it out and see the reaction. There are parts of his little conundrum that make him uncertain about how to progress, so he needs to say them. He clears his throat nervously and holds onto his tea cup for support. ]

The simplest thing to say is that I wasn't born. I was created when a man -- a half-demon -- decided he didn't want to be half a demon anymore. He used a magic sword to get rid of me, so that he could be more powerful. He didn't leave me enough to survive on, I was supposed to just be scraps.

[ He's looking right at Klaus when he says this, without flinching. ]

You've met Griffon, there are two other familiars that live inside of me. They were also cut out, and while they contain that man's nightmares, they also contain a great deal of magic. We joined together to survive, I made a promise to them and they made a promise to me that we wouldn't lie down at die for him.

We recruited some other demon hunters from our world to hunt my twin down and take back our original body, but as you can see from my presence that wasn't completed. We were brought to Fellden instead. We've been here for three months now, and this where I've spent most of my limited time.

[ That's when his gaze drops, stirring his now cold tea and watching it swirl. ]

The half-demon I was created from is also here, and his family.

[to be genuinely honest, klaus'd planned to just use the cup for warmth himself but seeing v's reaction makes him curious. is it as strong as it'd smelled? because if that's the case, ‘overwhelming’ is probably the perfect descriptor. some things can be good that way, other times, it's hit or miss, even though his own tastebuds have had plenty of time to adjust throughout his twenty-nine years of living.

he accepts the cup with raised brows, studies the liquid for a moment then takes a drink, too. an overpowering taste of fruit floods his mouth, has his expression lifting further when he realizes that yes, it is a bit strong, although he gulps it down without hesitation anyhow. weird, he sort of likes it? or maybe it isn't as odd as he thinks, considering who klaus is.]

You're welcome... and also right? But I kinda like it, unsurprisingly.

[whenever v segues into talk about his homeworld situation, klaus's mouth stays shut, his head nodding understandingly. the whole point of this meeting had been getting everything out on the table, it's true, and if v's willing to go first then who's he to stop him? gives him some time to consider how much he'll give away in return—

which, from the sounds of it, is going to be a lot more than he'd anticipated? holy shit. an immediate thought dancing across his mind: reaching out to hold v's hand for extra support, though he resists, clutches his own cup and bites his cheek, just prepares himself to listen instead. simplest, v says and for some reason, it doesn't feel all that simple. if whoever this half-demon is left v little to nothing to make it with, how the hell did he survive?

although he hasn't realized it yet, when v looks directly at him, his mouth briefly falls open in surprise. this is already so much and v hasn't even finished; it makes klaus's own truth feel a bit insipid

that's why he's got the mouthy bird following him around? and what two other familiars is he talking about? are they here, too? god, so many questions, so little time and a whole shitton of other information to absorb. (also, like, what's it mean if v's familiars didn't exist? oof, he hates it.)

but hearing him say they've been here three months eases his mind somewhat. doesn't keep him from finally opening his mouth and asking,] If you're technically incomplete, then how can he and you exist at the same time? [since there ought to be some sort of reasonable explanation, except something niggling at the back of his thoughts tells him otherwise. many things don't make sense, he's come to accept it.

v looks back at his tea and klaus doesn't hesitate this time, just reaches out across the table between them, gently sets his fingertips on the hand v's stirring with.] This hasn't changed my opinion of you, for whatever it's worth.

[then, if his words weren't enough emphasis, he slides his fingers up, circles them around v's wrist and squeezes reassuringly.]

Maybe it's not my place to ask and it's definitely none of my business, but who's his family? [pause] Or is ‘your family’ more appropriate in this case?

[ V knows it's a terrible story. He'd be a different person if he hadn't been left to die in the shadow of Vergil's overweening pride and ambition. He doesn't tell the story to eke sympathy out of people though. He only ever tells it when he feels like someone needs to understand. What he's trying to explain is different each time. Sometimes it's to explain his relentless loneliness, sometimes his inexplicable inexperience, and sometimes it's to explain his deep insecurities about existing here at all.

Maybe it's all of those reasons, talking to Klaus now. ]

It influences my opinion of myself.

[ He hesitates for a moment, but he stops stirring the tea in favor of turning his hand to rest his fingers loosely along the curve of Klaus's wrist. ]

The Spardas. They're not my family, they're Vergil's. As for him... well he's most useful to High Priestess as a whole man, don't you think?

[ His tone goes bitter saying that. ]

[yeesh, that was a lot— still kind of is in a sense but klaus isn't deterred. in fact, it makes him more curious; what else is there about v he doesn't know? or had he just given him the entire story all at once here? regardless, for whatever reason v's telling him, he appreciates it, has decided he'll do the same in kind and definitely understands a little better than before.

and if it's any consolation, klaus questions his existence here at least two or three times a week. sometimes, it feels like a dream he'll eventually wake up from, yet whenever he awakens in the same bed, the same room surrounding him, he realizes he's not dreaming.]

Hopefully, it's a good opinion? [please, v, go easy on yourself.

the fingers touching his wrist in return briefly draw his attention, he tilts his head, considers them a long moment then looks right back up at the acerbic response.]

Vergil? [alas, that and ‘sparda’ aren't names he's familiar with.] Hey, give yourself some credit, V. You're here, aren't you? That must count for something, incomplete or not.

[ He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing initially comes out. He sighs and finally concedes with honesty, shaking his head, ]

I'm still building an opinion.

[ As for his not-family, ]

Vergil and his twin brother Dante are claimed by the Moon Temple. Vergil's son Nero is in the Court now.

[ A situation that is somewhat heartbreaking to V, since this Nero will never have met him at all. V doesn't relish having to explain who they are to one another. ]

Fair enough.

[he's also doing that, too. being here is different, having a second chance to try something else is different but being given the choice in the first place, that's what really sort of blows his mind about it all.

dante and nero are absolutely names he recognizes though and when v says ‘twin brother,’ well—] I... think I know all of them, actually? Dante helped me get out of a tight spot once, I helped Nero wrangle some kids a while back and Vergil, he— [don't make assumptions, you don't know if that was legit vergil or not.]

Well, I'm thinking I might've run across him on a real bad day? Although I'm not sure.

[ What V takes from the hedging is that Vergil did something cruel or violent. It doesn't shock him, and he doesn't bother warning Klaus that he's dangerous. He should know already if he's met all the Spardas. So V just nods that, yes, that description sounds correct. ]

I know this isn't the most elegant way to learn about me, but it spares me having to pretend that I know what it's like to live my life.

[ It lets him be more open and clear about his boundaries and limitations. Although maybe those limitations are only in his perception, who knows. ]

[what about both? both is good— although maybe not so much during that situation. klaus doesn't need any warnings, he's witnessed it himself and plans on steering clear of ‘vergil’ for as long as necessary. (even though it technically wasn't him, which will be odd to learn later.) dante seemed capable but not nearly as dangerous in his opinion.]

It's not but I don't mind. Gives me an idea of what exactly you're dealing with.

And it definitely makes me feel a little better about sharing my own shit. [a moment's hesitation, his tongue nervously darting over his lips, the faint grip he has on v's hand tightening.] Like how I can see and talk to dead people. [just for starters, anyway.]

[ As promised, the look on V's face is one of fascination more than repulsion. To be quite honest, V doesn't think about 'dead people' very much. When he himself dies, he doubts he will become a 'dead person'. He will just disintegrate, all the magic inside of him just caught up and carried away. It had already started to happen to him, before he joined with familiars and even after. Hunting down the demon half of his former self had taken too much out of him, he had begun to crack like a porcelain doll. He has felt Death's touch on him, and there is a reason he makes no attempt to befriend that god now.

But he knows a lot about what people think about the dead. Vergil, and by extension himself, read all those classic ghost stories, and here in Fellden V has a little book of poems The Dead and the Undead full of emotions about living, dying, and all else. His own relationship to the concept is just... warped. He wonders if that's how Klaus feels too. Like he knows these stories and these ideas, but his reality is different. ]

That is interesting. Always?

[...well, that's sincerely a surprise but holy shit, what kind of afterlife would that be? or would it not exist, either? klaus's had far too many close-calls with death to have not eventually run into that particular deity, albeit during a party, so it wasn't like he'd planned for them to meet. for a long moment, he's distracted with studying v's expression, seeking out even the slightest hint of distaste, although he finds none. the guy's either got the best pokerface he's ever seen or v's genuinely interested and he's unsure which is worse.

at least in stories, ghosts never woke him up in the middle of the night. the reality's entirely different; having a spirit shouting his name, looking just as they did when they'd died? it's a whole different feeling altogether. one he tries to avoid as often as possible.]

Not always, no. [albeit with blatant reluctance, he draws his hand away, turns and reaches into his coat-pocket on the left side, withdraws a flask that he sets up between them. then he props his elbows onto the table, steeples his fingers together, rests the index digits against his chin.] Only when I'm sober.

[ What strikes V most is the reluctance to make this admittance, and then doing it anyway. Maybe this talk of sobriety should have more gravity, but V doesn't know what can lurk behind that word. What he knows is that there are many people in many stories who drink to keep the ghosts at bay, they're just usually metaphorical. Is it more reasonable, when the ghosts are real? It doesn't make it any less of a tragic device, but having tragedy in your life is also something V relates to entirely too much. He puts one of his own elbows on the table, resting his chin in it and watching the other man with a look of mild consideration. ]

You hide that from people.

[ It's not really a question, and V is thinking about what he'd hide from people himself. He'd told Klaus his story, but has been in deep consideration about beginning to lie. Telling new people that he's such and such age, from such and such place just to avoid the questions and the vulnerability. ]

What is it they [ 'People' ] think you should do instead?

[ Why else hide it, if there wasn't something to be avoided. He may be naive about the full implications of an addiction, but he's sharp enough. ]

[klaus's mouth instantly opens but whatever words he'd been planning to say die right on his tongue. no, he doesn't intentionally hide it from people; however, he's never gone out of his way to announce when he's out getting drunk or high off his ass. old habits of making sure no one knows so he avoids getting into trouble die hard and all, even if he's an adult now. a slow, measured sigh and then he finally continues.]

Sometimes. Back home though, nobody was ever surprised to see me intoxicated.

[if that's something v's genuinely considering, he'd be pleased to know that he got the actual story before he decided on lying about his actual homeworld. (klaus can understand wanting the perks of having people believe he's not an otherworlder.)

he shrugs, teeters his left hand.] Most people think I should just embrace it? But they aren't the ones being haunted every goddamn night, so, y'know. [a feeble gesture toward nothing in particular with the same hand then it cups his cheek.

although he's pretty sure v doesn't understand in the sense of actually seeing things.]

[ Nobody was ever surprised.That sounds like someone V knows, and wonders how he actually feels about that internal comparison. Of all the people in Fellden he probably wants to date Dante the least. He takes his teacup in both hands before taking a drink out of it, eyes down in thought. ]

No, they aren't.

[ It's also the advice V would give. If Vergil had faced what haunted him instead of cutting it out, there would be no V and that is always the better world that V imagines. He was only able to survive by doing what Vergil couldn't, by reaching into the core of each familiar and letting the nightmares wash over him.

But not everyone is himself, interestingly enough. ]

Have you considered searching for a charm to suppress your hauntings?

[ He motions inward at some of the necklaces around his throat. There are actually quite a few, although he doesn't make it clear which are magical and which are just jewelry. He would prefer that not be clear to anyone, really. ]

There are things that I do not like touching me, so I wear a ward.

[ No more fae charm magic for him, thanks. ]

Edited (typo) 2020-03-16 04:36 (UTC)

[not to worry, v, he and dante have some things in common but are also quite different. mostly in places where it matters, too. klaus softens somewhat whenever v agrees with him, downcasts his own gaze then reaches for the flask, tucking it back into his pocket afterward.

feels a little selfish; though, in his defense, maybe he feels it's rightly claimed for once? and v doesn't seem to be judging, given the offer of charms.]

...I hadn't. [partially since half of him's afraid of the withdrawal, all while the other part almost prefers being inebriated most days. this, however, is true about his whole self:] Also because I'm sort of an idiot who forgot that was even an option?

[they're surrounded by magic twenty-four seven and, how unsurprising, something so small never occurred to him. maybe because he's drunk far often than not. he tucks his cup between his arms, leans over the table and carefully catches one of the cords, examining the trinkets there.]

Sounds brilliant, honestly. Where'd you get these done? Or did you make 'em yourself?

[ He's never had someone lean in to look at what he's wearing like that before. He doesn't often think about how he looks, but it's a moment like this that brings it to mind. ]

The charms I've asked for as blessings.

[ He says that like it's been the formal monthly variety every time, but one of them was a direct gift from Temperance. ]

The rest I've just been collecting since... [ Oh right. ] Well, I took everything off a man I knocked unconscious after I was created. He had some jewelry.

[ There was a reason he wanted to explain how he was created before telling stories like that. ]

[v could wear a goddamn paper bag and make it look great, he has nothing to worry about. klaus's index finger curls tighter, the middle digit catching one of the charms, his thumb rubbing over it thoughtfully.]

Blessings, huh? [it really is a genius idea.

maybe, if he remembers, he could ask for something that might help keep the spirits away (because there are a lot more around fellden than he would've thought).]

Wait, did you knock him out for his jewelry? [listen, he's not judging, klaus has done the exact same thing— or something similar to it, at least. he's undoubtedly taken shit off people while they were unconscious, that's for sure.]

I hope that helps. I--

[ He was going to say something about understanding what it's like to be carrying something awful all the time, but he just... doesn't want to. It's the first time so far he's shirked, he's doing pretty well. ]

It was his clothes I needed, for the most part. Griffon and I needed to escape in a rush, he threw me out a window. [ This was a necessary thing, but the point still remains that he had been thrown naked into a pile of trash and really needed some clothes. ] I thought taking the jewelry as well would help... sell the lie.

[ He clears his throat. ]

I liked his jewelry more than his fashion, but prior to coming to Fellden that was all I owned.

[ Stolen clothes, stolen cane, borrowed nightmares, and a discarded book. ]

[klaus withdraws after v hesitates, lifts his head just enough to meet the other man's eyes, his own curious, silently scrutinizing. whatever v wanted to say, he has every right to keep it to himself... but that isn't going to make him any less inquisitive. was he about to say something about understanding? yikes!

finally, since it seems like he's lingered plenty, he releases v's necklace, shifts further back and plants himself in his seat proper.]

The guy threw you out the window or Griffon did? Either way... yeowch. [mainly if he was naked too, like, what the hell, man? he huffs a laugh at that, shakes his head then takes a pull from his tea before commenting,] Probably not the worst idea, to be honest.

[he snorts this time, barely manages cupping a hand around his face to muffle the rest of the noise (because the second half of the remark is not funny at all).]

That's okay, I came to Fellden the same way and back home, I... didn't really have much else, anyhow. [a faint shrug.] Hell, I've got more stuff here than I do there, I'm sure.

Do you care about 'stuff'?

[ Ah, these are the kinds of weird questions you should expect from someone who hasn't existed for very long. Some behavior he's noticed in others and is now trying to determine whether it's a normal behavior or not.

The guileless curiosity on his face likely gives away that he isn't joking, and is actually interested in the implications of the answer. ]

Depends on the stuff.

[which isn't a lie, some of the shit he has is extremely important. the dogtags hanging around his neck at all times are more or less it, though.

an uncomfortable shift in spite of himself, his head briefly inclining, attention concentrated on his teacup.] Most shit can be replaced, it's true, but there are some things that are just... priceless, you know?

[ Does he know? He knows how Vergil feels about the Yamato and about his mother's locket, but does V have anything that important? Someone might tell him it was the book of poetry that Vergil had carried since childhood, but doesn't that description alone explain how that isn't his, yet again? ]

I have yet to find something like that.

[ Was it inevitable? Or could you go your entire life without finding something priceless? ]

But I do like books.

[ What a shocker the guy is a nerd. ]

[oof. evidently, v needs to find something to make his own, something personal— or perhaps someone? because friendships can count, too. they're rather priceless in their own way.]

Oh. Well, uhm... I'm sure you'll eventually find something? Even if you don't, it's no big deal, not everyone finds comfort in material things.

[but of course, he likes books and that's a start, isn't it?]

Nerdy, [he grins.] I like it. Books are pretty great though, to be fair.

[ The real question is what book of poems does V have in his cloak pocket today... Let's dig it out. Poems Bewitched and Haunted, a little pocket edition with jack-o'-lantern faces in a pattern across the front. ]

Most of my time is spent reviewing textbooks and researching, but I have a few of these I like to take with me.

[ Even nerdier. Textbooks and poetry. ]

[the moment he does, klaus's propping onto an elbow again, leaning to see the book, eyebrows arched with curiosity.] Poems? Oh no, that's cute, [he gestures toward the little pumpkins, sighs and touches his cheek with his opposite hand.]

Anything good in there? Can't say I've read that one.

[nerdy or not, he can appreciate some good prose.]

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