Fire Power

Myra took a hold of her mug and softly blew on her tea before she sipped at it. Perfect, as usual. She wrapped her hands around the mug, humming happily at the warmth seeping through.

“I suppose that’s okay. Plus, you’re already gross tonight.” It helped that she was finally starting to wind down now that she was sitting down more calmly. “How do you meditate anyway?”

Ply her with tea and weapons - the oldest trick in the book. One that Vergil had fallen prey to in his own childhood - so it seems to trend in his line of succession. As to her comment on his state of ‘gross’... well, Vergil is aware of his wins and losses. He’ll take what he can get.

Myra made grabby hands towards her mug before holding them still so she could actually accept it from him. She loved all of grandpa’s fancy teas; he didn’t do ANYTHING halfway. The girl sat up straight now, the itch temporarily rising before settling down as her excitement shot up instead. “Really?! We can! Yes! I knew we were gonna do something cool when Dad said I would get to stay with you!”

With some luck, her teachers would see that she was doing well and staying with family and wouldn’t fuss at her so much about falling asleep. It wasn’t her fault that just listening to them talk was so boring if she couldn’t do something else at the same time! “What are we gonna start with?”

Vergil set the tea down carefully on the table, the handle pointed towards her so that she wouldn’t grab it by the mug and burn her hand. Not that the burn would last long - he didn’t think, at least. She was sturdier than humans, but he still didn’t want to test the extent of her healing abilities. Her parents wouldn’t appreciate that.

The preteen gave off a long suffering sigh but she took her seat and laid her head on the table. It was strange to think about sometimes; that her father and her marked the distinct line between human and demon. It wasn’t really that important usually.

Myra watched Vergil fix the tea, turning over her thoughts again. “Is it like, an itch under your skin? You don’t know what to do but you have to do something?” Maybe some of that tea would be nice.

“An itch...” Vergil gave that thought, frowning while he placed a dollop of honey in her mug, cream and sugar in his own.

Myra tolerated the steering as she shoved her last bite in; she stole his cake, least she could do is rinse the plate off. “Humans can be night owls too! Though dad does see better in the dark than lots of people.” She was included in those people, though that made sense. They were pretty sure she didn’t have a proper demon form, that her strength was the closest she’d ever get to an inhuman form.

Myra didn’t mind that. She didn’t want to be stabbed like the rest had been.

She fussed with the plates in the sink and leaned against the counter as she watched Vergil’s routine. “Do you get restless at night?”

Vergil glanced at his granddaughter, raised one snowy brow, and promptly pointed to the appropriate seating at the kitchen table. “Manner, Myra.” He stated, before turning back to the electric kettle and the topic at hand. 

“I’m gonna feel like someone who had a big slice of cake at midnight. I’ll have a glass of milk, read a little, and settle down for bed at one. I’ll have some tea in the morning and be right, as, rain!” Myra had it all planned out! Was she going to be tired? Maybe. Probably. That’s what tea was for. “Anyway, what about you? Shouldn’t you get ready for bed too?”

“My hours have changed.” He explained, putting a hand on her shoulder to guide her towards the kitchen, at least. He could sit her down and watch her to make she wasn’t wandering around to wake herself up more. Vergil glanced down at her as he steered - his routine to make himself tea was an appropriate excuse. He could make her something as well - herbal, and warm, to put her to sleep easier.

Myra currently had a mouth full of chocolate cake and the rest of her mostly destroyed slice on the plate in her hand as she walked around the house like the creature of the night she was.** “Does it count if I say no?”** It was worth a shot. “You smell awful. Should probably take a shower. At least not have demon blood clothes. You’re dripping everywhere. Ew.” There goes another bite of his her cake.

It’s not the cake he’s worried about. It’s the next morning, when she has to wake up for school.