Hollowborn

This miserable rot had consumed him; Renfield had felt it fester at his core from the moment he'd opened his eyes again. All consuming and ever-present, every time the hollowborn thought he found the end of it, he opened his eyes and saw that another day had begun; bliss and sanctuary were nothing but a fair, fleeting dream. In this waking hell, he was trapped in a body that did not feel like his own, barricaded within a mind that was a fragment of what it could have been, and an oppressed burden of flesh that could only dream of being something more. Marius and Renfield weren't close by any stretch of the imagination; Remus was Renfield's father, and that he was here at all made him feel worse that he'd put some sort of strain on what might have already been tenuous. Getting well or getting better was more complex than popping something out of a bottle, opening his mouth, and swallowing. Renfield knew that and knew that for whatever he was, he was mortal now. Weak and stupid, his mind was brought down to the lowly and derisive level of humanity.

"I know you're not used to not having the all answers," she murmured with a little smile, "but you don't have to know everything immediately." Clara absently brushed some stray hair off his forehead. "You'll get there." There was a moment of silence, her nod soft and her smile reassuring. If she had faith in anyone overcoming whatever life threw at them, it was Ren. He had unwavering support and he had an unrivaled mind, even without the magic that had come at such a price.

Renfield understood the need to run off, it wasn't like the thought hadn't crossed his mind. Naturally, he couldn't now; the hollowborn would be an easy target out in the Otherworld. Most people were but Renfield wouldn't need to tell Clara not to do anything reckless or stupid while she was out there. The aspect was probably the smartest person he'd ever met. Renfield held the device that Clara had made gingerly in his hand as he turned it over and inspected it, clever. Rome was where so many things had gone wrong, where his life had been turned upside down and where he'd caused so much pain. Running away would have been easy, but instead, the hollowborn would opt to stay and just keep putting one foot in front of another; maybe someday, an opportunity would present itself where he could try to atone. "Just be careful." Renfield said, he paused for a second, but even in this the hollowborn was already in motion as he folded his arms around her.

"Not as much. I am merely here to offer you a gift, if you are interested." There is not much she knows about the hollowborn, partly due to her own belief that her children would introduce her to him if she waited long enough, but she knows enough that sentimentality wouldn't be something that moved him. Whether he accepts her gift or not, though, he is under her protection in ways she had not allowed herself to do before. It is both because despite their lack of interaction, she does see him as family, and also because there is still the danger of him falling pray to the Elder Evil once more. If he ever needs help, Trivia won't hesitate to do so, but for now, she will lay the foundations of truth. "I am aware that you can protect yourself, but I would like to add my two cents in the matter if you would allow me to fill any gaps."

Naturally, the first witch had a plan; the Goddess of the arcana, who'd recently built a temple to herself, wanted to extend a hand to the hollowborn. Renfield sat across from her at his altar to the scientific, the mortal, and the breadth of innovation at The Eye's disposal. Like so many others, Trivia was someone he'd been intricately woven into. His appendages were embedded in her mind as she was hauled out and used for the power that flowed through her. Renfield understood her capabilities, possibly even more than she did. "Depends. What is it?"

Remus really had intended to get himself a dog, but keeping up with an animal was not at all in the cards for him. Renfield though? Well, it felt like the hollowborn needed something. The other's mood had been so down that he couldn't help but think that a dog was going to help to some degree. The more he looked at their cute little faces, the more he thought that this was absolutely the right idea. What was a better comfort than a dog that loved you unconditionally? Of course, it was mortal, but it would be a good thing for long enough. If Ren ended up liking the dog enough, then maybe Remus would remember to keep the other well stocked with dogs as the years went on. "Of course I'm sure about it. Look at them." He stopped to kneel down in front of a Beagle that was merely resting. "You don't just pick. The right one comes to you." He stood back up and kept walking with Renfield. "It'd be pretty comical if you had a small dog just like it would be if I had a bigger one."

This was a big decision, probably one of the larger ones that Renfield had made in the last few months, but he just didn't know. The big dogs didn't speak to him, but the small, mouthy ones reminded him about Remus. There were a bunch of cute dogs, some young and some old, with big eyes begging to be adopted. There was one, though, that spoke to Renfield immediately. At the back of the kennel, it growled with this tiny little voice. Mostly hairless, missing teeth, and completely blind, it started barking when Ren and Remus stopped. "That one." The manager that ran the kennel explained that the dog couldn't be around children, wasn't house broken, couldn't be around other pets, and had high medical issues. It also didn't like to be touched. "He's perfect."

All Remus had ever truly cared about was that Renfield would be okay. He didn't care if the hollowborn was still a demigod or basically presenting as human. What mattered was that the other was his son and he had tried his damn best to make sure that he never suffered. Of course that hadn't worked out all too well given everything that had happened, but he had tried his best. He could only ever hope that was good enough. The last thing he wanted was Keket taking all the credit for being the good influence while he was just every bad part. But of course that didn't really matter much either. Again, he really only ever cared about what benefited Renfield. So he slowly nodded his head, brows slightly furrowed. "Well..." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I'm here to help you keep up. Always."

"I know you are." Because even at his worst, if there was something that Renfield had never doubted, it was that if he needed Remus, he knew the original terror was just a phone call away. That was something that he appreciated, and it was something that he needed; in the past, Renfield had taken this for granted, but he wasn't going to do that anymore. "I'm going to go for a walk, I'll grab coffee on my way back." He could say thank you in the smallest possible way, but it was there.

This miserable rot had consumed him; Renfield had felt it fester at his core from the moment he'd opened his eyes again. All consuming and ever-present, every time the hollowborn thought he found the end of it, he opened his eyes and saw that another day had begun; bliss and sanctuary were nothing but a fair, fleeting dream. In this waking hell, he was trapped in a body that did not feel like his own, barricaded within a mind that was a fragment of what it could have been, and an oppressed burden of flesh that could only dream of being something more. Marius and Renfield weren't close by any stretch of the imagination; Remus was Renfield's father, and that he was here at all made him feel worse that he'd put some sort of strain on what might have already been tenuous. Getting well or getting better was more complex than popping something out of a bottle, opening his mouth, and swallowing. Renfield knew that and knew that for whatever he was, he was mortal now. Weak and stupid, his mind was brought down to the lowly and derisive level of humanity.

"We're both talking about me," Zagreus felt like they'd come full circle now, though his eyes were more wild, more tears – he'd never been able to fight that side of him. The angel had fallen so far from where he'd started; a boy with a bag that just wanted a forever home. Something more than temporary. He thought maybe he'd find that with Ren, something more than a minute, a fleeting fling, and still – "It's been a long time. And I'm tired." Zagreus wiped his eyes again, "I'm able to handle my stuff." It was obvious Ren didn't want to be the one to bite the bullet, maybe it was over and Zag was just holding on for no reason. "Then tell me to fuck off, Ren. Why did you come up to me if you were just going to tell me I'm not worth the trouble."

"Alright, fine, we're both talking about you." And somehow Renfield didn't have an answer but it was obvious that he was the problem here, Zagreus was fine, out the other side without so much as a grudge. He was glad, but the hollowborn didn't feel the same and he was far from the same person he'd been before. "I'm not," Renfield didn't really have an answer to the nephilim's question, not really, but breaking the silence that had dominated the space between them was better than not. He didn't know if this was something he'd come to regret, and truth be told hurting Zagreus was one of the last things he wanted to do but he didn't have the capacity to deal with the tears and everything else that went with it. "but whatever this is, it's over. We're done."

"So much went to shit. You think everyone is sitting there and pointing fingers at you? The Asphodel did unspeakable things, fucking gods possessed you and everyone like you. I got to watch friends die– not everything is about you and your machine." Zagreus shook his head now, looking away, "So much stuff went wrong, and now we have another chance, and you'd rather, what, punish yourself for eternity? I'm not even...I'm not even me anymore." If there was any pride in Zagreus, he mustered it now, "Barely know – whatever, Ren. I'm not going to beg you to work this out with me."

It wasn't as though he didn't care what had happened to the rest of the city - the world, that was colossal in its own regard, but the hand he'd played in Zagreus' misfortune was something Renfield couldn't easily shake. Were the situation reversed then the hollowborn wasn't sure if he would be able to look at the nephilim, but here the other was in front of Renfield when fifteen years and the world's weight in trauma separated the last time they'd seen each other. All that said nothing about what the other's friends and family would probably make of it. "I'm not talking about everyone, I'm talking about you."

Renfield was either intentionally or unintentionally following in her footsteps, studying the same but coming out even wiser than the master. She'd known that, took pride in his academic accomplishments, but she hadn't seen Renfield as accepting the position of a director of an entire hospital, at least not after all he'd been through following the war. A brave boy became a brave man. But she would have been proud if he'd simply decided to take a hiatus from everything and everyone. He was less like her in that aspect; he was someone who didn't run away or take breaks from their issues.

Maybe Clara was right, truthfully she probably was, but Renfield was having a hard time connecting to himself, of feeling like himself. The anguish of those centuries that he'd repressed lurched forward, the fifteen years where once more his body was not his own. He was tired of being a pawn in someone else's game and if this medication made him useless then perhaps that was also going to be a gift. Renfield had already decided that if it came down to it he'd prefer to be nothing at all than a puppet drawn by someone else's strings. "You have a point," Renfield conceded, something he never did before when it came to an argument or a debate, but Clara's view of what was or what should be was more comfortable than the dark clouds that he'd taken to conjuring. "I just don't think I know how to get from here to there."

"We said no more secrets," Zagreus wasn't sure where it'd all gone wrong. The nephilim had already been scared of the Eye, of what it could do, and even being with Renfield was enough to prove that he cared for the Hollowborn no matter what. It sounded like a terrible mistake, anyhow. A good idea that only allowed an end for a brief waking moment, and Ren had paid the price for it. There was one thing for certain: there was no need for him to belittle the other, it seemed like he was doing enough of that himself. "Stop telling me what I want. I think I'm allowed to make that decision for myself." Zagreus stood there now, hugging himself since he felt like it was the only thing he could touch. "You're doing a whole lot of telling me I should just leave."

Renfield could feel himself fidgeting, he flicked his thumbnail against his index finger and had to consciously remind himself to stop. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, the people at this party had to have their thoughts about him, and even if they didn't everyone here had either been crushed by the End or they knew someone that had. This memorial was happening because of him and because of the drow that had been tinkering with consciousness. Necromancers were rotting in cells, those who'd had a change of heart had more freedom, and while the senate seemed content to just sweep everything under the rug Renfield didn't know how that was possible. He didn't know how someone like Zagreus could look at him and see anything worthwhile. "I just don't understand why you'd want to stand beside someone you barely know, whose done such terrible things to you and to the people that you love."

"Nothing was your fault," Zagreus wasn't sure what guilty by proximity thing was going through Ren's head, but he moved towards him anyway. The nephilim felt the anger leave his body: an issue, sure, he was too easy to forgive and forget. A terrible person to hold a grudge, really, but Zagreus didn't think twice about it. The hollowborn was ragged, tired, and ridden with anxiety – Zagreus wasn't even sure where to start. "I want to help. I don't know how, but I can't – I can't imagine that it's just....ignoring you."

"That's not true." Renfield had kept enough from the other, they'd avoided the subject of The Eye because Zagreus didn't want to hear it, and Ren couldn't say that he blamed him. That the hollowborn worked for them at all had to of been a difficult pill to swallow. "Before we met I experimented on your friend, Akara; we'd developed a method of enhancing supernatural DNA and he was the first of our live subjects in something we painted as a standard clinical trial- I didn't know until after you started talking about him but I... I didn't say anything either." There was a short pause, then Ren spoke again. "I developed a machine to shut off magic: an end to immortality, vampires, and everyone who's life was tied to it. My mistake let the Gods possess the others like me." Demigods. "I'm not someone you want to be with."

"Seriously? We talked about this. I said I couldn't lose you and I lost–" he felt like he was going to throw up. Confrontation? The nephilim wasn't great at it, and Zagreus had to compose himself after a second, "You ghosted me. After I said I couldn't...after...after everything." The end of the world, the loss of everyone he loved – death, whatever it had been, had to be a reprieve from living in that world. Without his friends, without Ren, without anyone he cared for. "I missed you."

"It was my fault." Renfield didn't know how Zagreus could really stand to be in the same room as him, his parents he'd come to wrap his head around, but all this was born out of a desire to do something unspeakable. Still, Ren wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, "I missed you too," trapped inside his own body watching Zagreus and the others struggle. Hunting the nephilim. "my head is just- I'm a mess Zagreus."