i grow forgetful of the earth

closed starter for @natemichaelson location: lupercalia note: kiss kiss friendship

"I did. And then it didn't go as planned. And I had to wrangle all these creatures." And they had the little marks here and there to prove it but it'd all been in good fun. Pulling his hair out of the little bun he'd put it up in, he grins at Akara and offers a gentle clap to his shoulder. "You having fun? This is like the one party I've been to that I'm really uh, vibing with." They think they were using that right. "You have time to hang? My um, my date's hanging around with some of the other vampire's that are here I think. Solidarity and all that, you know?"

"Of the two of us, I'm much more likely to get my ass eaten here," Wolfgang remembered phrasing and nudged Nate lightly, "you know, in a bad way." A lot of these guys really didn't look too happy to see a vampire here; it was all growls and death stares when they weren't just pissing in the street. Wolfgang liked blood pools, raves, and lofi; this was just bad rock music and shirtless guys who smelled like they'd been pissed on. "Hard to say, I think all events can be slutty if you put your mind to it. Is this more your scene?" They were still learning about each other, Nate was still learning everything, but the hunter liked to fight or whatever, so maybe watching people tear each other's faces off was up their alley.

Until Wolfgang had explained, Nate was about to point out that they thought that was all a good thing but they nod solemnly in understanding. He knows it's kind of out of the vampire's element, being there, which was why he appreciated him coming to hang out. And yet there's this weird part of Nate that thinks that this is kind of finally their chance to kind of take Wolfgang out of his element. "Kind of? I like wolves. Something about 'em." He reaches for the vampire's hand and gives it a squeeze as someone else in little to no clothing walks by. "You more a lover than a fighter?" Considering their first meeting, that might just be it.

"Don't you mean Our Father?" Lorenzo was pretty sure that God was everyone's father, not that he was half angel, or even quarter angel - at least as far as he knew. "Maybe I'll ask my mom if we have any angels in our family tree, you know, my dad said that when people die they watch over us, not like ghosts because that's devil talk I think but in a nice way. But now that I say it out loud like, what's the difference between a ghost and an angel? Is your dad a ghost? Oh my gosh is your dad dead?" Enzo clapped his hand over his mouth as he turned in his seat while Christina Aguilera's Dirrty continued to play over the radio. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that, I keep bringing him up to and it must make you super sad." Man, John was going to be pissed at him for this.

Lorenzo is actually ridiculous but he thinks he kind of loves him, he's a friend, he's probably the first bitten wolf he's met that seems to be kind of....Just swerving the trauma, if that made sense. Nate wishes they could do that, just sort of seem alright. "Okay, so it's like a big wolf thing, Lupercalia. Few people call it "Wolfchella"." They present this information like they'd present a briefing to their father or another hunter even. "It's probably important to socialize you with other wolves. Not just the ones that smell." Did they all kind of smell? He didn't know, but he did know he was polite for all of his bluntness.

Behind them the maker hummed with life, the smell of the storebought grinds filtered through the air as it spewed life and hot water into the glass pot beneath it. Between the two of them Michael and Nathaniel were trapped blaming themselves for what had transpired but this responsibility should never have fallen on Nathaniel's shoulders. It wasn't the nephilim's duty to save the world, it wasn't on them to make up for the litany of mistakes that went back to Michael's creation.

That doesn't make him feel any better because that was something that he'd had to tell himself at one point, too. That it had ultimately been out of their hands, but that didn't do anything for the guilt that plagued them. "It doesn't make any sense. It didn't happen, technically, right? It doesn't matter and yet I can't stop thinking about it." Seeing Atlas or Zagreus or Kayce or Akara or Wolfgang and thinking about those makeshift graves. It doesn't end, it doesn't seem to stop. "You're here. You're here and it still hurts." Nate looks up from the kitchen table towards the man that raised him, this great protector, and the irony isn't lost on him that they'd both failed to protect each other.

"Oh dip, really?!" This was the best day ever, except obviously the whole dog dick thing he'd gotten from his weird uncle last night but Enzo was kind of getting used to it. He was used to it because he seriously considered bringing a hammer with him next time so he could knock himself out. Enzo couldn't really afford to lose any brain cells, though. He put the radio on because he was pretty sure this thing didn't have Bluetooth, and phones that mattered no longer had an aux port. Christina Aguilera's Dirrty played over the radio and Enzo hummed a bar under his breath before he did a quick little swish. "Love this old song, one of the classics. This was probably a big deal when you were in college or something, right? Did you know one of the ladies in the video danced with a snake? That's so brave. I hate snakes, don't tell Theus I said that though I think he likes all animals and I like-" Him. "I just think he's neat." This song was like thirty years old or something Lorenzo probably wasn't even born yet when it was released, one for the old folks like angel!Nate. "Aren't those the same people?" Like, hello, had this angel even read the bible before? Father John said that God created everything, so He was kind of everyone's dad. Woah, ew, did that mean everyone was brother and sister? Enzo thought he was gonna be sick.

It's a pop song, it's one of those women from the 90's who wore those metallic pants in a music video he just knows it. It was after the 'Genie in a Bottle' thing and therefore raunchier and there they are, driving into town, listening to the music of a woman wearing assless chaps, he did remember the one. And this is their life and they are looking through the windshield and for what feels like the first time in days, Nate cracks an actual, genuine smile at the absurdity of it all. "No Lorenzo, they aren't like the same people. I'm only half angel. My father is my an angel." It was actually so much more complicated than that but he doesn't want to get into it as he pulls into the lot behind Grazie's and parks the car. They get the usual table when they come to meet Sariel, not the brunch squad table but the one closer to the corner and the usual mimosa is sat before them. It's then and there that he looks to Lorenzo, he looks to the drinks and he promptly scooches the mimosa in front of the wolf to be beside his own. In turn, they wordlessly scooch their glass of water over beside the one already in front of Lorenzo. "So there's this big festival for you to go to and I'm going to be partially supervising you." Because he thinks Lorenzo needs to go and have fun and get into it with the other wolves. "You mentioned a Theus, who are they?" And could they watch Lorenzo the rest of the time at Lupercalia?

"The greatest of understatements and yet entirely true, yes," she comments dryly as she returns the hug with much issue, an arm moving to wrap around Nate's waist and squeezing just hard enough to reassure herself that they were there and present. She had grown rather attached to the silly little nephilim on the end of the world, and she is glad to see them in one piece physically. Mentally. Well, none of them where there yet. "But now all we can do is move forward."

"What's that look like for you?" It's earnest, Nate wants to know from her specifically and he feels awful about it. They hadn't known Adatiel as well as they should have but there'd been such a warmth to the seraphim that they weren't surprised she'd done what she did. The casualties that had traumatized them, all of them had been undone and yet he was still going through life as if they had. There was no reset button on the guilt.

A better man wouldn't have left Nate to pick up the pieces, but that was exactly what Michael had done. In The End, it hadn't been the strongest that had survived, save perhaps for Titania, but instead, it was those who knew how to do whatever it took to survive and those who had just been lucky. Michael was indebted to his son, to a ragtag bunch of a few, to Six, who'd given everything so that he could have a second chance, and to a sorcerer who'd threatened a god.

"It was my fault." There's not a single thought behind it, the sentiment, the admission, it's practically blurted out. It's washed down with the last of his beer and he should have brought more. It's not like they don't know where the liquor cabinet is, knows that it's mostly for show than anything. Suddenly Nate wished they were at the bar, he would rather be staring at a shelf full of bottles than at a fridge that has little magnets made of rocks he'd found as a kind on fishing trips. They'd give anything to pack themselves up and head down to their room in the basement. To curl into bed and turn on Toonami or Adult Swim in the background and just forget any of this ever happened. They didn't move out, they didn't start living with Atlas, they didn't start going out more and wearing less. "I knew it had to be a trap but I was so scared." It's accompanied by a slight sniffle and it's then that they realize they're crying there at the kitchen table. "And then there was all that time without you, without anyone." No Atlas, no Akara, no Kayce, no Zagreus. They hadn't been able to really face Vivianne, not after that. The record store crew, Aelia, regulars at Killjoy's, Wolfgang. All gone. "I should have known."

Vivianne was silent for a moment, her eyes on Nate as her expression went from a little apprehensive and nervous to more calm and joyful. Clairvoyance wasn't a part of the spartoi but she wouldn't find the lie she could only see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in their words. "That means more to me than you could possibly imagine, Nate," she said, injecting every bit of her own sincerity into her words. "I know it doesn't have to do a lot with you, but I want it to whenever you're willing. Family has always been so important to me. The Dahlia was... still is, in part, my family and we made sure to be as transparent as we could with each other. At least that's what I tried when I was Sovereign. My family is bigger now... Michael and you are a part of that." Her face reddened a bit as she shrugged, eyes landing on nothing in particular as they shifted away from Nate. "And who knows what else the future brings. I just want to make it clear your opinion does and always will matter."

"You're good for him." Nate says it without really thinking any further on it and it hangs there in the air between them. Vivianne sits there across from them with her soft smiles and warm eyes and she is so happy. There's all this warmth that practically radiates off of her and they wish she'd been around when they were just a kid, they really do. To the point where he almost voices that. I wish we'd have time for you to be my mother. "It's funny because there's me and him, and there's him and you, and then there's him and I." He ticks off the three options on his fingers and can't help but think the two divine were totally different people than they were around her. Nathaniel relaxes more around her than their father, they know that for certain. "That being said, I don't think.....Things between he and I probably look weird on the outside." And he hopes she gets that, he doesn't know how to explain in a way that's entirely normal, he's never known how to do that. "Like we've never really been 'father' and 'son'."

The warm wash of temptation ran across the breadth of Wolfgang's tongue as the first mouthful spilled through his lips and immediately swam across his senses. He could feel the other's desire press against the thin polyester of his pants and neither of them were being especially discreet. Wolfgang felt bold because of it; spurred on by Nate's motions, his hand moved to palm the Nephilim over his jeans as he gave the man an appraising squeeze. The warm wash of blood fell across the ridges of Wolfgang's tongue as he swallowed down another mouthful. More of his venom washed over his fangs and spilled into the punctured wounds. Temperance wasn't his strong suit but when he pulled his lips off the nephilim's neck, he couldn't help but admire the neatness of his handiwork. Even and symmetrical with clean edges and no tearing, holding back with Nate was getting easier. His hand didn't move, though, not yet. Instead, his nose brushed idly against the hunters. "You wanna get out of here?"

It's getting easier and harder at the same time, the biting thing. It's less gearing up for the initial pain and more excitement. Because fangs break skin and then there's white hot pleasure that shoots from the bite that just sort of shoots around like a pinball. Back arched against the wall and fingers in Wolfgang's hair, a soft mumble of pleasure passes through their lips before they're biting into it to keep quiet. And it kind of works until hands get into the mix and then Nate's breath is hitching as his hips are quick to rock into the vampire's awaiting hand. Fingers gently tug at Wolfgang's hair and they have half a mind to hike a leg up over a polyester clad hip as they hear their own heartbeat fighting to get out of their chest. Eyes upwards at the tall, the organ practically pulses to the beat of the music in the next room over. He's so focused on it that he almost doesn't get what Wolfgang is saying, not registering that the fangs aren't in his neck anymore. The hand is still there and there's really no casual way to keep from rocking into it and their face feels hot but he nods maybe a little too enthusiastically. "Your place?" It sounds breathless and that only makes them blush harder, smile sheepish as their noses brush. The party is nice, any party with Wolfgang there is nice, but the idea of putting something on and making out in bed seems far more appealing than being around a ton of people. "I'd like that." The kiss he presses to the vampire's lips is sweet, tentative almost, because he's still getting used to the 'kissing Wolfgang whenever he wanted' thing. "I'd like that a lot."

There was a mark on Nate's neck, but Michael had seen enough people bitten by vampires to see that the margins were clean and there wasn't any sort of struggle attached to it. The seraphim wasn't sure if he knew the person that was sitting in front of him anymore; Nate had quietly been transforming into an individual that Michael didn't quite recognize. Stripped down to the hunter's core, he was still the person that Michael had raised, but everything else they were draping themselves in was foreign in a sense.

Nate rises to their feet and for just a second they want to stab a finger to their father's chest and tell him that he doesn't get to do that. That he doesn't get to coddle him now after everything. But it's not right and they can't say that they don't kind of want the attention, the attempt at comfort. Because they'd always just bottled everything up, it was easier, their talks about feelings brief. He's old enough to know now that Michael wants to talk about these things but there's just no capacity for it. Neither of them know how to get there. They open their mouth to protest, brows furrowed and vitriol right there but it doesn't come out. It never really has, even when they'd been a kid. So Nate nods, fingers still curled around a half full bottle of beer and goes into the house without further prompting. The place is the same as they'd left it and yet different at the same time. There's little things on the way to the kitchen that let him know that Vivianne has to be staying there now. Little trinkets, some artwork that make the house feel more homey and he wishes he were there with them. Not now maybe, but another time, when he'd been growing up. Would both of them had been better off with her around? "Do you remember any of it?" There's no filter, they're parked at the breakfast nook and taking another sip from the bottle in their hand and looking straight ahead. It just plays over and over. The voice of the Old One or whatever the fuck it'd been coming out of Assan, someone they thought they could trust. Laying amongst the makeshift graves for everyone he'd lost. It's all right there over and over again late at night like this.

Date: January, some time Location: Grazie's for some good food Characters: @natemichaelson & @seeingvivianne Notes: we're having the step-mom talk its time

"If you are both happy it really doesn't have anything to do with me." They've been waiting for this for a hot minute now, had wanted the dust to settle first. He's glad it's Vivianne who's talking to him about it instead of Michael though, things between the two of them still felt tentative. And Nate kind of thinks that just might be how life is now. If they're always just going to be haunted by something that doesn't quite matter anymore. But Vivianne and him are happy and that's what matters, that's what he's wanted for Michael this whole time. The once witch was good for him, Nate could see that a mile away when they'd just been talking. They look across the table at her and the way she seems maybe a little nervous but her eyes light up at the mere mention of their father and where had she been all this time? What would the two of them be like if Michael had met her sooner? Something twists in his chest at the thought. "We can handle it." It's quiet, it's honest, firm even. Because the two of them had been through so much already and now there were three of them.

"You think? I thought so too, but every time I tell Father John about my week it sounds like he gets really frustrated." Lorenzo usually went off on his little tangents, but at least the priest was usually pretty patient. "Do you know John- or er, Father John, I don't think I'm supposed to just say his name on its own. What's up with that anyway? Like if I was also a priest would that make me his brother? Or would I be his wife? Husband? No, it'd be husband because Father John is definitely a dude." Lorenzo chuckled a bit as he hopped into the passenger side of Angel!Nate's truck. "Did God give you this truck? I thought angels would be able to afford something nicer, I can give you a loan if you want, I have like... So many sponsors. Anyways, I couldn't imagine being John's wife- Father John- he's nice and everything but he smells like peanuts." Were you supposed to comment on a priest's smell? Gosh, he was always stepping in it; now he'd have to apologize to Father John for this, too. "Hey, can I pick the radio station?"

Nate can handle that Lorenzo is a lycan. That he needs to chain him up to a very sturdy oak tree. They can even handle the fact that the wolf has to strip down first and then they chain them to the tree. The hard part is that Lorenzo loves to talk and he is not super great in that department unless you were Atlas, Kayce, Zagreus, or Akara. Wolfgang too, talking to the vampire was getting easier and easier. "You can choose the music." Mostly because they're very curious as to what the wolf is gonna play. "Buckle your seatbelt." And he sounds so like his dad when he says it that he stiffens in the driver's seat, both hands on the wheel after he's turned the key in the ignition. "And I like my truck." The beat up old thing was reliable thanks to Kayce, it'd been something handed down from Michael. "God didn't give it to me, my dad did."

"Damn straight here." Wolfgang could smell the blood pumping through Nate's veins, hear the subtle throb of the other's pulse, and how it quickened and fell. "Right now." He smiled against the nephilim's affirmation and let his fingers run affectionately through the other's hair. Wolfgang always thought it felt so soft, now and then he imagined what it'd be like to wake up and run his fingers through it. For now, he brought his lips to Nate's throat and moved against the gentle pulse that sang to him beneath Nate's warmer skin. He massaged the tender skin with the breadth of his tongue, idly moving his teeth against it and pulling it against his tongue as he marked it without biting. Wolfgang's body flush against Nate's, and the wall at the nephilim's back, the vampire bit down and let the other rush across his tongue.

The hair thing is so nice, they really can't quite get over that. It's such a thing to arch into, tilt their head to try to get more of fingers he knows are pretty damn talented. That's something he can't think about with the close proximity and yet it's not like it's quite a secret with Wolfgang's polyester Santa pants and their own jeans. The feeling of teeth at his throat has him letting out a soft sigh, tilting their head back against the wall. It's not like the vampire just rips into him and he appreciates that, that there's some foreplay and he reciprocates by wrapping an arm around Wolfgang's waist, pulling them flush together. And it's nice, the coolness of the vampire's skin, his lips, the weight of him against them as a thrum of anticipation runs through them. It comes to a point when fangs break through flesh and the gasp that accompanies the act is embarrassing enough that he feels hot from chest to the tips of his ears.