[ Ah, yes, the mundane choices of Life After Demon Tree: you still have to go shopping for groceries while you're living in motels while you chase down its root structure. ]
i. didn't know i needed domestic nonsense until. right. this very moment.
it's probably best not to think too much about canned soup. not if you plan on eating it.
[ Will is nothing if not patient, but he's also slightly stunned to wait three minutes for what amounts to a texted shrug. ]
chicken noodle, chicken gumbo, cream of broccoli. there's actually more but i figure the shorter the list, the easier this decision is.
that and i'd rather not buy beefy mushroom, unless we're making our own cans. [ The fact that he's going to be making dinner for both of them is now officially implied. ]
From a pot or a can, I'm not so concerned, as long as it's edible. ( even if edible here is only 'halfway edible.' )
I think the most ambiguous thing you have listed so far is beefy mushroom. ( the suggestion from Will is almost too subtle; it's only on the fact that Will points it out at all that snags v on his thoughts, and...intrigue glows like a coal under a fresh breath of air. )
Isn't chicken gumbo original to where you're from? Would you recommend it? ( suddenly, this feels less like a decision on what's for dinner, and something more...personal, now. )
"ambiguous" is the best way to describe the flavor. or maybe "wet dust".
[ Oh. Will had mentioned, once - 'No, back when I was a state police officer - down in New Orleans...' - and hadn't expected it to come up again. It's a small segment of himself, small enough that Will rarely considers it a part of him, and yet it's still larger than any piece he's gleaned of V. ]
it is. i wouldn't recommend storing the rice and the gumbo together, usually, but recommendations are on a different tier when you're microwaving condensed soup.
i'll let you know how it compares. [ Will lets himself take two cans off the shelf and...not resist the slight shiver of memory it brings. ]
I'll be a while deciding whether I am glad that you have the knowledge to know that about beefy mushroom, or if I regret you having had to find out for yourself.
Rice in soup... Could be worse. Could be cream of broccoli. ( sorry, but there is something about that that v doesn't trust about as much as he doesn't trust beefy mushroom. at least, it's main crime is simply blandness. )
When was the last time you were there? New Orleans. You've only spoken of it as a distant thing.
Oh, and, if you could grab something sweet and bready. For afterward. ( dessert. can't blame him, he's thin, and also a taurus. )
Do you make it a habit to wonder about what goes on underneath my clothes? ( they're like 2% past the mile mark for this conversation to be acceptable. might as well. v mostly imagines Ginny's thorough laughter at the counter, which is all of the inspiration to drive this exchange there. )
[ Congratulations, you've won! Ginny cackles at her phone, delighted that the tease is accepted and then passed back. ] Only when my nipples scream in compassion.
Better question: of all the guys to NOT wear leather sleeves...why is it you, beastmaster with the falcon constantly landing on his arm? [ Clearly they're also like 2% past the point where Ginny can make sense of his clothes. She dresses to be comfy and to fit in with the general impression of what her job entails! Which, okay, maybe V's dressing to look like a goth poet. That's. Fair. ]
I wasn't aware that demon pacts and sulking were mutually exclusive. ( said almost as if he doesn't believe that for a moment. )
I believe it would depend on the weapon. There are builds for rifles with little kickback involved. It isn't really my style, but as Nico so eloquently put it, 'I reckon being dead ain't so in fashion either, considering how much you're trying to fight it.' I think she has a point.
Are you hurt, Nero?
There's no sense in downplaying things. Hardly means you're lacking. ( take it from the guy who has to use a cane or a bird to get around. )
Between the two of us, I think we can get you covered for a gun. Lucky for you, most gun metals are black to start with. Can carve some quote in the side for you and everything
I told you I'm fine [ He already lied once, V, why do you need to make him lie again?!
And yet V's a persistent guy - would have to be, to stick around despite whatever his health-deal is - and the offer feels weirdly trustworthy. Nero chews it over while he pays for cookies he's definitely going to nab a handful of. ]
It's mostly healed, I've always healed up fast. It's just that losing an arm isn't really like taking a boot to the face, I guess. I'm not bleeding, so nothing worth changing plans over.
But yeah, fine, it hurts
[ Now that he's got that vulnerability out of the way, let Nero just open the door to the van and announce 'Delivery, sleeping beauty' to...
...an empty van. ]
You gotta be shitting me. Hey, asshole! [ Nero is leaning back out the door of the van, temporarily re-opened. ] I'm gonna eat all these on my own if you don't get back in here!
[ And then he...doesn't shut the door again, just yet. Lingers on the bottom step of it and looks one way and then the other up their current alley they're parked in, because... V's a loner, and sometimes pretty thoughtlessly absent, but he asks for things pretty rarely. It doesn't feel quite right that he'd just bounce afterwards. ]
( receiving a message like this from Nero is...surprising. the expenditure of thought, detail, into this kind of craft. it is his specialty, after all, but that hardly means giving over the effort is necessary. it's...inclusive. one cannot rebuke Newton's third law of motion: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. and, as Blake so sagely remarked once, Without contraries is no progression.
so he should come to expect it, shouldn't he? V might, except that he comes to expect nothing, if it is not something that he sets out to accomplish. that, is so very like that man he used to be...
and there it is, an acceptable admission that didn't really need to be admitted, and above all, Nero didn't owe a candid truth to a guy who just up and walked out without telling him where he was going.
v isn't thinking about it that way, though. )
Nico offered me something for a headache I had a few nights ago. I left the bottle of pills in your 'secondary important shit box.' ( not to be confused with 'the important shit box' most readily available while sitting in the passenger seat, nor the 'sort of important shit sometimes' box.
by the time v is walking up the alleyway back to the van, he can hear Nero's voice echoing down the pathway between buildings, his voice carrying over the quiet. really, one could likely hear Nero's voice in a crowded square if he was only speaking excitedly.
give v another, oh, minute or so. you won't see or hear him coming, but once he's coming right up around the side of the van, you'll see him. )
Ah, good timing. ( nonchalant, pleasant without beaming. Nero, having sat down on the steps in the doorway, bolts up at the sight of him. in v's free, ungloved hand, he's carrying a wax-laden cardboard cup with a nondescript soda logo on it, from either a convenience store, or a gas station, difficult to say. )
[ Nero tells himself that the slight ache under the flash of anger is just more anger waiting its turn. Definitely not a pang of real disappointment, because it's unusual enough for them to have been working this closely together - Nico and him had shot off to help her with her research for his devil breakers, V had stuck around to research the demon tree. There's no sense in feeling any, like, entitlement to someone sticking around.
His phone pings with a text and he nearly throws it - it could easily be code for bye, because V's disappeared with less warning before - and then decides actually, he clearly needs to chill the fuck out. Easier said than done, though. He does not go in yet to scour the secondary important shit box for pills, because he'd probably forget to grab water and end up chewing them, or maybe he'd break the handle off the door grabbing it to re-open it, or--
Or V's gonna just appear out of nowhere, smug and toting a fucking gas station soda cup. Nero doesn't just bolt up, he storms over. ] What the fuck, V. [ He is deeply and emotionally considering beating a man unconscious with his own cane, and arguably all for reasons that exist only inside his own head.
What a time to be alive.
But he sputters a bit here - he can't say why he's actually upset, so he shifts gears at the last second. ]
You're getting your own goddamn milanos next time, if you're doing good enough to be up and getting coke.
( it isn't uncommon for Nero to storm over for any reason at all β he's all fire, and with a breath of wind, his energy can flare up and travel farther than what is easily expected. v stops with plenty of space for Nero to roll up at him aggressively, and even then, he stops almost so short that v might have considered taking one step backward.
also, 'what the fuck, v' is just enough of an indicator that something has ticked him off a little, there.
v is still plenty calm, watching Nero like a cat blandly watches someone crossing a room. his confusion is barely visible, oddly still on his face, giving little more than a firm blink and the flicking of his gaze left and right across Nero's face. )
...This isn't a beverage. ( the cup shuffles hollowly. ) The ice pack you asked about. Indeed, you left it in the front seat. It was well past melted, so I...
( get your phones out now, take your pictures while you can β it's one of those crucially rare moments where v actually falters. it's a subtle thing, but even Nero could easily catch it; he isn't stupid, after all. v looks down at the cup in his hand, as if realizing only now what he'd gone to do... still as stone, statuesque, v stares at the container, cheap and thin and branished in red and blue, almost too flatly untilβ ) Got you ice. Nico has some clean cloths I think you can use.
( so what mister monologues just did was
ask Nero to hit the store to supply for v's munchies so that he could lounge in the van
hear that Nero's got a sore arm
and upon discovery that sassafras was an idiot and left the only ice pack out for no less than a day
got up off his ass and trekked down to the corner store to grab him some ice
look...v felt compelled. )
! ! ! that is the cutest goddamn thing i've ever seen
[ There is, in fact, no response that could adequately chill Nero out right now. No possible amalgamation of 'my blood sugar was low' or 'Nico told me you like grape soda, so I got you some, although I'm concerned for what this implies about your mental state' could bring a stop to the low roar of tangled abandonment issues that just got woken up in Nero's chest. Is it fair? Nah. Is it happening anyway? Yeah, unfortunately.
But then V's serene, knowing face falters like suddenly he isn't so sure, and he looks down towards the cup, and then... ]
Oh. [ Nero's pretty sure his heart makes an audible noise. Somewhere between a rubber chicken scream and glass shattering. ]
That's... [ Dial up tones, while Nero stares at the cup and then V's face, visibly touched and then in a slow, gathering slide, becoming aware of the slight scene he's causing by hesitating. ] Thanks. You didn't-- didn't have to. [ Yeah, he definitely didn't, which is why Nero's anger has dissipated along with his dignity.
By the time he finally takes a step back, his cheeks have a faint pink at the heights of them. ] Hey, yeah, I'll just-- here-- [ He's taking the cup from you, V, in case the disjointed gesturing wasn't making that clear enough. Nero falls back towards the van, and finally remembers that he's still holding the bag of shit from the corner store.
He holds it aloft as he steps up the brief stairs into it, holds it out for V as V follows. ] Alright fine, guess you earned these fucking things. I won't even skim any off the top for payment, now.
Edited 2019-04-09 02:34 (UTC)
for deerington, backdated loosely to uh 'earlier in may'
[ For the first time since arriving, Will's truly relieved at the invasion of privacy that makes it possible to just...message others without having ever traded phone numbers. ]
have the townspeople bothered you yet?
sorry about the time. [ Will is presumably talking about the fact that he's messaging him a little after 3am. He was a bit too rattled to over-think this part. ]
( V doesn't even know what to make of it when the device around his wrist lights up, vying for his attention. will.graham reads across the display, with (3) messages received and ready for viewing.
'Oh I'm sorry, is this interrupting your little chit-chat?' Griffon isn't super thrilled to be turning around at a time like this to find V texting, apparently. 'Tell your boyfriend that now isn't exactly a great time!')
For one very naΓ―ve moment, I had to think their ill attitude had something to do with some outstanding late fees.
Until I presumed it was a much more personal matter.
( there's a pause, but a brief one. Griffon gives them enough space once he unleashes a blast of lightning that rakes across the disgruntled group of masked assailants. the lightning blinds them, disorients them, which gives V and his familiar a chance to duck down and make an escape. )
Are you all right? ( asked as if V didn't just almost take a baseball bat to the face a minute ago. )
[ Will's just gotten back home, just gotten back to the safety of his dark and quiet little street out towards the edge of town. And his first thought after catching his breath had been for anyone else he knew who might not be so lucky in their housing.
He hadn't actually expected that the nighttime aggression of the townsfolk was actively ongoing, or even that V would even be awake. This rattles Will where he's already been rattled. ]
i am now.
sounds like you recently weren't? or currently aren't?
( Will is...worried. V blinks down at his device's screen, blank with consideration. it's unexpected, striking and sudden, but glows with something dim, a mesmerizing ember under the high-burning fire before him. interesting.
but there isn't time for it to consider. )
I've handled far worse, I promise you. ( V realizes he might not appear as sufficient as he knows himself to be, after what happened when the pollen bloomed through the town, but if V is capable of anything β it's learning from mistakes. shocking for him, considering his ultimate past, right? )
It will be difficult to lie low in the town. And as far as I know, it's impossible to tread past Deerington's limits.
They're coming after us...sleepers. ( a word V heard fall away from the ravenous mouths of the townsfolk, as they narrowed himself down as a target earlier. )
so have i. that doesn't mean i'm looking forward to figuring out how this goes from here. [ Of course, when Will says he's also handled worse, he's thinking more along the lines of gaslighting, manipulation, horrific crimes beyond most people's creative boundaries...not demons. So. Small differences in what they know to dread, there.
But the rest of V's reply inspires a spiraling dread in Will...alongside the knowledge that he thinks he should actually know how to fix this. Should he offer? ]
so far i've only seen them invade areas they're comfortable in. and usually in packs. the only good thing is they're easy to see coming.
and they don't tend to venture too far from the busier center.
don't you live there? [ Will doesn't live near the center of town, which is why he feels safe, and he's absolutely getting an idea, here. ]
[ It's not necessarily a suspicious text to receive from anyone...but from Will, it might strain the innocence of their routine. Will knows he left V in the hotel room they're sharing as they travel closer to the Qliphoth. The both of them know Will went out to get them dinner, though, so...maybe it's just a check-in that he won't be wasting his time bringing back food? ]
I'm here. Did you forget something on your way out? ( and yet, v doubts that, despite asking. hardly as if he forgot the important aspects (bulletproof vest, hotel key, gun.) )
wandered off or distracted. sounds like it's neither, if you're texting
[ Will shouldn't feel found out at the question about why he's asking. But he can't help the slight flush up his neck when he reads that text, even while he's alone outside, driving his car carefully through root-riddled streets and ripped pavement towards the motel parking. ]
no. only left one important thing back there [ Which is the most telling thing Will feels like offering, even if he's nervous to hit 'send'. (He really should be more nervous to be texting while driving, but considering he's restricted to about five miles per hour around here, it's hard to commit to the feeling.) ]
('oh geez, is he flirting with you?' griffon caws from his perch on a chair, gauging v's expression from his lounge on the dilapidated bed. it's apparently vivid enough for a large demon-bird to interpret at a distance. 'guy's gone ten minutes and can't keep his dick in check...')
I'm sorry I wasn't able to accompany you. ( v's exhausted, a fact he isn't keen on admitting aloud, and thank hell that with Will, he never has to. )
If you're missing me, I certainly don't mind giving you my accompaniment this way. I much prefer to be looking at your words than this water-damaged ceiling.
[ Luckily, Will can't hear Griffon doing his level best to ruin the mood. It probably wouldn't help Will's post-demon-apocalypse blood pressure. ]
i appreciate the thought, but i'm just about back [ And toting two separate containers from the grocery store; one's a regular bag, the other is kept closer to Will's torso as he locks the ramshackle car and leaves it behind, padding over to the door.
He opens it and has about two solid, frozen seconds of adrenaline-spiked eye contact with V lounging back on the bed before he notices Griffon in the corner of the room. Who announces his presence with a rasping 'Oh hey, your booty call took longer than usual today!' Will jerks so hard he nearly drops the bag of soup cans to the floor. ] Shouldn't you be scouting for demons outside?
[ Will has helpfully retreated back out the door halfway, keeping it open for the large bird, and...he still hasn't revealed whatever he's got in the arm he's been keeping out of sight beyond the door. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
timeline loosely with what we've been playing around with
[ Ah, yes, the mundane choices of Life After Demon Tree: you still have to go shopping for groceries while you're living in motels while you chase down its root structure. ]
i. didn't know i needed domestic nonsense until. right. this very moment.
( after enough of a delay that brief contemplation was very much an endeavor to be had: )
What's on the menu?
you said 'quick tags' so i decided 'failed domestic endeavors' felt about right
[ Will is nothing if not patient, but he's also slightly stunned to wait three minutes for what amounts to a texted shrug. ]
chicken noodle, chicken gumbo, cream of broccoli. there's actually more but i figure the shorter the list, the easier this decision is.
that and i'd rather not buy beefy mushroom, unless we're making our own cans. [ The fact that he's going to be making dinner for both of them is now officially implied. ]
i'm hollerin like that cowboy in the sky
I think the most ambiguous thing you have listed so far is beefy mushroom. ( the suggestion from Will is almost too subtle; it's only on the fact that Will points it out at all that snags v on his thoughts, and...intrigue glows like a coal under a fresh breath of air. )
Isn't chicken gumbo original to where you're from? Would you recommend it? ( suddenly, this feels less like a decision on what's for dinner, and something more...personal, now. )
this can might be big enough
[ Oh. Will had mentioned, once - 'No, back when I was a state police officer - down in New Orleans...' - and hadn't expected it to come up again. It's a small segment of himself, small enough that Will rarely considers it a part of him, and yet it's still larger than any piece he's gleaned of V. ]
it is. i wouldn't recommend storing the rice and the gumbo together, usually, but recommendations are on a different tier when you're microwaving condensed soup.
i'll let you know how it compares. [ Will lets himself take two cans off the shelf and...not resist the slight shiver of memory it brings. ]
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Rice in soup... Could be worse. Could be cream of broccoli. ( sorry, but there is something about that that v doesn't trust about as much as he doesn't trust beefy mushroom. at least, it's main crime is simply blandness. )
When was the last time you were there? New Orleans. You've only spoken of it as a distant thing.
Oh, and, if you could grab something sweet and bready. For afterward. ( dessert. can't blame him, he's thin, and also a taurus. )
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[ There's a slight pause which doesn't, you'll note, leave room for a reply, before: ]
Do you wear a shirt under that leather jacket? Because all I can think about is how chafed your nipples must be by now.
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that's one way to start someone's day. )
I do not.
Can I ask you a question, next?
Do you make it a habit to wonder about what goes on underneath my clothes? ( they're like 2% past the mile mark for this conversation to be acceptable. might as well. v mostly imagines Ginny's thorough laughter at the counter, which is all of the inspiration to drive this exchange there. )
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Better question: of all the guys to NOT wear leather sleeves...why is it you, beastmaster with the falcon constantly landing on his arm? [ Clearly they're also like 2% past the point where Ginny can make sense of his clothes. She dresses to be comfy and to fit in with the general impression of what her job entails! Which, okay, maybe V's dressing to look like a goth poet. That's. Fair. ]
Oh and!
Saw this and thought of you. π
[ attachment.jpg ]
tfln overflow β weightoffmyshoulder
I wasn't aware that demon pacts and sulking were mutually exclusive. ( said almost as if he doesn't believe that for a moment. )
I believe it would depend on the weapon. There are builds for rifles with little kickback involved. It isn't really my style, but as Nico so eloquently put it, 'I reckon being dead ain't so in fashion either, considering how much you're trying to fight it.' I think she has a point.
Are you hurt, Nero?
There's no sense in downplaying things. Hardly means you're lacking. ( take it from the guy who has to use a cane or a bird to get around. )
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I told you I'm fine [ He already lied once, V, why do you need to make him lie again?!
And yet V's a persistent guy - would have to be, to stick around despite whatever his health-deal is - and the offer feels weirdly trustworthy. Nero chews it over while he pays for cookies he's definitely going to nab a handful of. ]
It's mostly healed, I've always healed up fast. It's just that losing an arm isn't really like taking a boot to the face, I guess. I'm not bleeding, so nothing worth changing plans over.
But yeah, fine, it hurts
[ Now that he's got that vulnerability out of the way, let Nero just open the door to the van and announce 'Delivery, sleeping beauty' to...
...an empty van. ]
You gotta be shitting me. Hey, asshole! [ Nero is leaning back out the door of the van, temporarily re-opened. ] I'm gonna eat all these on my own if you don't get back in here!
[ And then he...doesn't shut the door again, just yet. Lingers on the bottom step of it and looks one way and then the other up their current alley they're parked in, because... V's a loner, and sometimes pretty thoughtlessly absent, but he asks for things pretty rarely. It doesn't feel quite right that he'd just bounce afterwards. ]
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so he should come to expect it, shouldn't he? V might, except that he comes to expect nothing, if it is not something that he sets out to accomplish. that, is so very like that man he used to be...
and there it is, an acceptable admission that didn't really need to be admitted, and above all, Nero didn't owe a candid truth to a guy who just up and walked out without telling him where he was going.
v isn't thinking about it that way, though. )
Nico offered me something for a headache I had a few nights ago. I left the bottle of pills in your 'secondary important shit box.' ( not to be confused with 'the important shit box' most readily available while sitting in the passenger seat, nor the 'sort of important shit sometimes' box.
by the time v is walking up the alleyway back to the van, he can hear Nero's voice echoing down the pathway between buildings, his voice carrying over the quiet. really, one could likely hear Nero's voice in a crowded square if he was only speaking excitedly.
give v another, oh, minute or so. you won't see or hear him coming, but once he's coming right up around the side of the van, you'll see him. )
Ah, good timing. ( nonchalant, pleasant without beaming. Nero, having sat down on the steps in the doorway, bolts up at the sight of him. in v's free, ungloved hand, he's carrying a wax-laden cardboard cup with a nondescript soda logo on it, from either a convenience store, or a gas station, difficult to say. )
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His phone pings with a text and he nearly throws it - it could easily be code for bye, because V's disappeared with less warning before - and then decides actually, he clearly needs to chill the fuck out. Easier said than done, though. He does not go in yet to scour the secondary important shit box for pills, because he'd probably forget to grab water and end up chewing them, or maybe he'd break the handle off the door grabbing it to re-open it, or--
Or V's gonna just appear out of nowhere, smug and toting a fucking gas station soda cup. Nero doesn't just bolt up, he storms over. ] What the fuck, V. [ He is deeply and emotionally considering beating a man unconscious with his own cane, and arguably all for reasons that exist only inside his own head.
What a time to be alive.
But he sputters a bit here - he can't say why he's actually upset, so he shifts gears at the last second. ]
You're getting your own goddamn milanos next time, if you're doing good enough to be up and getting coke.
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also, 'what the fuck, v' is just enough of an indicator that something has ticked him off a little, there.
v is still plenty calm, watching Nero like a cat blandly watches someone crossing a room. his confusion is barely visible, oddly still on his face, giving little more than a firm blink and the flicking of his gaze left and right across Nero's face. )
...This isn't a beverage. ( the cup shuffles hollowly. ) The ice pack you asked about. Indeed, you left it in the front seat. It was well past melted, so I...
( get your phones out now, take your pictures while you can β it's one of those crucially rare moments where v actually falters. it's a subtle thing, but even Nero could easily catch it; he isn't stupid, after all. v looks down at the cup in his hand, as if realizing only now what he'd gone to do... still as stone, statuesque, v stares at the container, cheap and thin and branished in red and blue, almost too flatly untilβ ) Got you ice. Nico has some clean cloths I think you can use.
( so what mister monologues just did was
ask Nero to hit the store to supply for v's munchies so that he could lounge in the van
hear that Nero's got a sore arm
and upon discovery that sassafras was an idiot and left the only ice pack out for no less than a day
got up off his ass and trekked down to the corner store to grab him some ice
look...v felt compelled. )
! ! ! that is the cutest goddamn thing i've ever seen
But then V's serene, knowing face falters like suddenly he isn't so sure, and he looks down towards the cup, and then... ]
Oh. [ Nero's pretty sure his heart makes an audible noise. Somewhere between a rubber chicken scream and glass shattering. ]
That's... [ Dial up tones, while Nero stares at the cup and then V's face, visibly touched and then in a slow, gathering slide, becoming aware of the slight scene he's causing by hesitating. ] Thanks. You didn't-- didn't have to. [ Yeah, he definitely didn't, which is why Nero's anger has dissipated along with his dignity.
By the time he finally takes a step back, his cheeks have a faint pink at the heights of them. ] Hey, yeah, I'll just-- here-- [ He's taking the cup from you, V, in case the disjointed gesturing wasn't making that clear enough. Nero falls back towards the van, and finally remembers that he's still holding the bag of shit from the corner store.
He holds it aloft as he steps up the brief stairs into it, holds it out for V as V follows. ] Alright fine, guess you earned these fucking things. I won't even skim any off the top for payment, now.
for deerington, backdated loosely to uh 'earlier in may'
[ For the first time since arriving, Will's truly relieved at the invasion of privacy that makes it possible to just...message others without having ever traded phone numbers. ]
have the townspeople bothered you yet?
sorry about the time. [ Will is presumably talking about the fact that he's messaging him a little after 3am. He was a bit too rattled to over-think this part. ]
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'Oh I'm sorry, is this interrupting your little chit-chat?' Griffon isn't super thrilled to be turning around at a time like this to find V texting, apparently. 'Tell your boyfriend that now isn't exactly a great time!' )
For one very naΓ―ve moment, I had to think their ill attitude had something to do with some outstanding late fees.
Until I presumed it was a much more personal matter.
( there's a pause, but a brief one. Griffon gives them enough space once he unleashes a blast of lightning that rakes across the disgruntled group of masked assailants. the lightning blinds them, disorients them, which gives V and his familiar a chance to duck down and make an escape. )
Are you all right? ( asked as if V didn't just almost take a baseball bat to the face a minute ago. )
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He hadn't actually expected that the nighttime aggression of the townsfolk was actively ongoing, or even that V would even be awake. This rattles Will where he's already been rattled. ]
i am now.
sounds like you recently weren't? or currently aren't?
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but there isn't time for it to consider. )
I've handled far worse, I promise you. ( V realizes he might not appear as sufficient as he knows himself to be, after what happened when the pollen bloomed through the town, but if V is capable of anything β it's learning from mistakes. shocking for him, considering his ultimate past, right? )
It will be difficult to lie low in the town. And as far as I know, it's impossible to tread past Deerington's limits.
They're coming after us...sleepers. ( a word V heard fall away from the ravenous mouths of the townsfolk, as they narrowed himself down as a target earlier. )
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But the rest of V's reply inspires a spiraling dread in Will...alongside the knowledge that he thinks he should actually know how to fix this. Should he offer? ]
so far i've only seen them invade areas they're comfortable in. and usually in packs. the only good thing is they're easy to see coming.
and they don't tend to venture too far from the busier center.
don't you live there? [ Will doesn't live near the center of town, which is why he feels safe, and he's absolutely getting an idea, here. ]
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v pls
πγ°οΈπ
quote the raven, "i'm comin for that booty"
[ It's not necessarily a suspicious text to receive from anyone...but from Will, it might strain the innocence of their routine. Will knows he left V in the hotel room they're sharing as they travel closer to the Qliphoth. The both of them know Will went out to get them dinner, though, so...maybe it's just a check-in that he won't be wasting his time bringing back food? ]
that was just griffon
I'm here. Did you forget something on your way out? ( and yet, v doubts that, despite asking. hardly as if he forgot the important aspects (bulletproof vest, hotel key, gun.) )
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[ Will shouldn't feel found out at the question about why he's asking. But he can't help the slight flush up his neck when he reads that text, even while he's alone outside, driving his car carefully through root-riddled streets and ripped pavement towards the motel parking. ]
no. only left one important thing back there [ Which is the most telling thing Will feels like offering, even if he's nervous to hit 'send'. (He really should be more nervous to be texting while driving, but considering he's restricted to about five miles per hour around here, it's hard to commit to the feeling.) ]
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I'm sorry I wasn't able to accompany you. ( v's exhausted, a fact he isn't keen on admitting aloud, and thank hell that with Will, he never has to. )
If you're missing me, I certainly don't mind giving you my accompaniment this way. I much prefer to be looking at your words than this water-damaged ceiling.
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i appreciate the thought, but i'm just about back [ And toting two separate containers from the grocery store; one's a regular bag, the other is kept closer to Will's torso as he locks the ramshackle car and leaves it behind, padding over to the door.
He opens it and has about two solid, frozen seconds of adrenaline-spiked eye contact with V lounging back on the bed before he notices Griffon in the corner of the room. Who announces his presence with a rasping 'Oh hey, your booty call took longer than usual today!' Will jerks so hard he nearly drops the bag of soup cans to the floor. ] Shouldn't you be scouting for demons outside?
[ Will has helpfully retreated back out the door halfway, keeping it open for the large bird, and...he still hasn't revealed whatever he's got in the arm he's been keeping out of sight beyond the door. ]
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