( 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 โ 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 โ 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 untilโ ) 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.
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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. )
no subject
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.
no subject
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 โ 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 untilโ ) 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.