Restless Ground Seethes

“I just wanted a frosty. None of this would have happened if we’d have just gone to Wendy’s.” They’re halfway joking as they perch themselves on one of the many statues in the hallway. The zombies had already been through there, besides he thinks he’s pretty safe with her. Lucretia might have seemed fun and whimsical, but they knew better. “What are you doing after this?” There’s screaming outside, all around them really, but there’s a brief moment of reprieve as they make their way through the castle just after the horde.

“So your guy is seeing a guy, big guy, comes around the shop, big shoulders, Princess Peach lips.” They’ve got an arm around Cain’s shoulder. Cain’s bare shoulder because he’d bothered to show up as essentially what the two of them were. It was a bit of a sitcom moment, the two of them, one dressed fully as a Catholic priest and the other in what he was certain was something that could be found at the back of Spencers. But he’s got business and familiars, they’re tied to people with magic and people with magic were messy, and therefore they had a lot of shit to catch up on every time they got to see one another. “What do you think about him?”

“Ah, this place is truly a den of sin.” They’re leaning very heavily into their persona for the evening for no ones amusement but their own. The bible in his hand is hollow and he pulls a flask from it to take a quick sip of tequila he may or may not have pilfered from Fates’ own shelves. It’s offered to August, along with a raised brow and inquisitive expression that gives way to a mischievous grin. The market is cool, he thinks this vampire lady knows how to throw a cool Halloween party at least, but he’s more interested in whatever shenanigans that are bound to happen in a place that seems ancient. “I do hope you’ll be keeping room between yourself and Eren, you never know what can happen with mixing magical beds and all that, I hear there were rumors of a male eladrin pregnancy. I’m not going to be an uncle, I’m in my prime.”

Triss Raval as a Priest

Familiars had it rough, specially the small ones. Nathan had seen this firsthand on a few occasions, it was hard to begrudge someone for wanting out of Hell, Triss was one of the lucky ones. They were free. The owl swooped down into animal form and Nathan extinguished his moke beneath the heel of his sneaker. Not exactly a nature guy, the cambion was always more for the city than the wild, but he’d been told to close up a portal not too far from here and was now on his way back. Mud soaked shoes and all. “Nah,” Nathan said with a shrug “Just out for a walk.” Triss’ association with the people that were shacked up in the old Alstroemeria house made him nervous, he didn’t know what went on before but his own involvement with the vanished coven kept him away from it. “Didn’t realise you went cruising in this neck of the woods.” 

-

“Actually, cruising in the woods is practically my brand.” It’s an inside joke with himself and the corners of his lips quirk up as his hands go into his jacket pockets. “But I have a hard time believing you’re going on a walk out here.” Cambion’s were alright, it wasn’t their fault they could be a little shifty, Triss got that. Nathan was a good guy, but they’d also thought they were a good person. That view was skewed over time in the Inferno, in actuality, there really wasn’t ‘good’ or ‘bad’ demons as fair as he was concerned. ‘Fair’ and ‘unfair’ was a better measure of character once you figured out that most of them were decently selfish creatures trying to survive. He had no idea what of that was taught to a child, but he’d consider Nathan fair enough on the scale. “Find something cool? Or are you cruising?” And it’s with a dramatic gasp that he looks to the other man and gestures between the two of them. “Are we cruising?”

“So what are you wearing to this thing?” The perk to having your witch own a bar was that Triss could sit at the end of the counter at Fates’ and scroll through their phone while sipping whatever cocktail they wanted. “The party thing? You and Eren aren’t seriously just tossing on some bedsheets and a belt and going right?” He’d heard the idea, he’d seen some of the shopping, but for some huge Halloween party, the idea was incredibly tame. “You might as well be a sheet ghost if you’re covering up the goods.” Putting his phone down and stopping his scrolling, he looks pointedly to where August seems to be taking inventory of some Prosecco.

“Alessio, or Dante?” August had taken pity on the spirit of a dead witch and given form where there previously was none. “It was a test of my abilities,” he offered, still pleased with himself though otherwise preoccupied. More and more August had taken to wandering the folds of the Otherworld, in dreams, in physicality, though for the moment his interest was piqued as he looked up from the book he was reading at the end of the bar, not at all bothered that Triss made their home wherever they were. “but now I’m glad I didn’t fuck him.” Terror indeed. “How do you two know each other?”

-

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t do that either. Because he was kind of my boyfriend.” Sort of, they hadn’t said the words, but in their defense, Triss had been in a mood at the time. Where he’d thought the word was trivial and all that, thought he was too good to use it because he was seeking a ‘deeper connection’. It was hard to look back and remember himself fondly then, he’d been far too naive. But those moments with Dante had been real, like some kind of haze had been lifted. “I don’t think I caught it at first because I figured it had to be a coincidence, how many dudes here in Italy are named Dante? I could throw a rock and hit two of those guys right now.” Triss mimes throwing a rock at the middle liquor shelf behind August, fully aware of how dramatic it is. They’re deflecting to humor, it’s still such a bizarre thing the more he thinks about it, like there was no way it could be a coincidence. “I got a real good look at him in a church of all places, and then again at the senator’s funeral.”

They’re not his woods persay, he thinks technically the druids and the fey kind of have a monopoly on the place if he’s getting technical, but as big as the mansion that houses the coven is, he needs grazing room. And it’s nice to take up his owl form outside of the Infeno, the biggest threat in the sky is probably some baby Pluto vampire aside from himself, he’s not worried he’s going to be snatched up by something bigger. The October air is chilly but it doesn’t bother them, the wind moves through thick dark feathers as they fly, large eyes on the ground below, just checking out who else might be stumbling around at this hour. It’s late, he’d left August to his studies and Eren, probably, he didn’t really expect any company the rest of the evening, but there on the path is someone who is surely up to no good. “Okay, so is there anything interesting happening or are you out for a stroll?” They practically swoop down the length of a tree an animal and emerge a man before calling out to the cambion. Nathan was an alright guy, sketchy, but alright.

Dante laughed like he’d never heard that joke before, interested in what Triss had to say about the other side. He’d never fully gone there, stuck in an invisible form that had been pulled thanks to August. Which, funny enough, the familiar was pulled because of the witch that had also brought him back to life. He’d may have done some spying, but that was beside the point. Triss was a demon, they had to be excited to do nefarious things – or at least pranks, like Alessio was so fond of. Dante shrugged now, stopping when Triss did. They were watching him a little too closely, and the terror had to meet the gaze head on, “It doesn’t always work like that. But we can try it. Tell me about us. You’re obviously a catch – hard to believe I can’t remember you.”

-

It hurts in a way he wasn’t expecting, to remember. It had been a while, those first few years in the Inferno had been spent mourning his lost love and cursing his own naivety, in recent years, he had other things to focus on. But here and now, in the cemetery, they’re looking at what is at least the face of that same man and they feel nothing short of wistful. “We met in the forest, both just passing through taking a shortcut. It was raining.” And he could still see it so vividly, the two of them practically running into one another, jackets up over their heads. “We started hanging out after that, but um,” Triss is good with words, arguably he never stops talking and it goes from general chatter to fill up lonely places to practically waxing poetic when he knew someone was listening. But these words are harder to say, they’ve never really been spoken out loud before. “We both liked the stars. That was our first actual like, ‘date’. Sat up on a hill and just talked about ‘em for hours.”

 “So about that guy you resurrected or whatever….” They’re not the only familiar to show up at Fates’, but they are the boss’s familiar, so they figure they’re kind of above the rules. Which was why Triss didn’t really have any sort of problem going behind the bar and scooting past his much taller ward to grab a glass and fill it with ice. “I was kinda caught up in all the magic stuff in the moment and didn’t realize, I sort of know his face, but I have no idea what the fuck is in there.” It’s all said really casually, because he thinks if he thinks too hard on it, he’ll actually go to pieces, and that’s not something he can afford to do, not anymore.

Dante followed beside Triss, though he wasn’t sure what kept him going – or interested. There was a pique in his curiosity, sure, but he was also digging himself a much bigger hole. Admitting that he was Dante, but also not Dante? That would incite too many questions. Though he was certain that he hadn’t thought the whole thing through just yet – hopefully it was believable that Dante had died long enough ago to match up in age with this demon. Semantics, he hated it.

“So you went to hell?” Dante pressed, a little bit more morbid curiosity pushing at him. He wondered what it was like; within the Inferno. “What circle? Or layer? Do you actually remember it? I’ve seen demons who don’t remember. Well, I stay away from them because most of them are assholes.” He didn’t like confrontation, despite the abilities beneath his fingers. Life – or the afterlife? – was supposed to be fun, and he had no intention of letting it be anything but. “Not at the moment. I um…had a normal family, up in Firenze. But I wanted change, so…I’ll try and see what I can do about my memories. There’s so many here that I think I could swing something to help me.”

-

“Yes and when I found out the devil didn’t look like Meryl Streep I was incredibly disappointed.” He’d have taken how she looked as Donna Sheridan even, but he hadn’t been so lucky. Beyond that, it wasn’t so much that they were traumatized by what they’d seen in the Inferno, it was more like in the grand scheme of things, it felt like a whole lot of nothingness. A vast section of his life that’d been spent reflecting on a naive existence, that’s what his time there had really been. “It was the seventh circle, and yeah, I remember it.” That’s all there is to it, it’s not interesting, what is interesting is that he’s convinced this guy is indeed Dante but not, the light and the pretty face are on, but someone else is home and that’s…It is perhaps a bit of a moral dilemma, to be plagued with the face of your dead boyfriend wasn’t really something anyone wanted to deal with period. But arguably, they’d been through weirder things and with August spending more time with Eren and getting the Asphodel coven off of the ground, maybe they deserved their own little romantic mystery. He’s rather fond of romantic mysteries. “So if I just rattle some things off, you don’t think it’s going to ring a bell or anything?” He pauses in his little stroll past the gravestones to eye “Dante” in a bit of a new light. 

“Is this your spot?” They’re asking because it’s kind of their spot. Granted, usually when he’s there, it’s as an owl, he doesn’t bother walking over to the hill most of the time. There’s a lot of specific stargazing spots in general over the city and it’d been something they’d grown fond of ever since they’d come back from New York. It’s his first choice, the hillside in the park has a nice view, there’s the sound of a fountain in the background, it’s a lot more peaceful than the rest of the nightlife in the area. “Because it’s usually mine, if you don’t mind.” Hands in his coat pockets, Triss’s shoulders raise in a semblance of a shrug. If it’d been anything else, they’d have moved on without saying anything, but they were a social creature by nature and they clearly shared an interest already.

Cloe is in the middle of attending a customer, when she sees her pottery buddy enter the bakery. She sends them a wave and a quick smile as she focuses on wrapping up the piece of a tart and finishing the transaction. It’s as she is putting the tart back into the display case after the customer left the shop that her buddy comes up the counter and asks her a question that almost makes her drop the tart. Thankfully, her reflexes safe her in the last moment and she just ends up setting the tart a little too hard on the glass, making a striking sound. She blinks down at the tart for a second, before she sends her friend an incredulous look for his bad timing.

“Yes, I am trying to get the halfblooded a seat in the Senate,” she agrees slowly, a brow raising in curiosity at their question. She had thought he didn’t know she is a halfblooded, but oh well, the more publicity the better, she guesses. “And no, so far it hasn’t. That doesn’t stop me from trying.”

She shrugs, and then winces as a snort escapes her at the pun. It’s true, but as she had liked the Earnest, she feels just a tiny bit bad for laughing.

“Yes, the Juno Senator. But they were already replaced.”

“And why do you want to do that?” They lean an elbow on the counter and it’s probably bad for business that they’re kind of loitering, but they enjoy their free time when they have it and they’ll do with it what they please. The senate was messy business, he and August operated outside of whatever supernatural law that existed, he liked to think. What was law when one had spent time in hell? “Wait wait, actually don’t tell me. Because I’m really not into the whole ‘using the system for the greater good’. But like, do what you gotta do I guess.” A halfblood seat would make sense but it’d also be…Triss knew Erik was alive, but he didn’t know how or why, because August knew. “You intend to take the missing seat then.” It’s not a judgemental statement, it’s a simple enough observation, but it’s also something August might need to know. “Don’t you think that’s dangerous?” But also Ira is a pottery buddy, she’s something they see at least once every two weeks and the idea of something happening to her does bother them. “Are you not doing good here? For the community and stuff?”

Dante gave a half smile, “That’s what your friends call you, Triss?” He teased, finding the explanation amusing. He didn’t ask for one, but the other seemed to offer it up completely free. Again, he found himself staring at Triss’ features. The terror had tried it out, seeing as how he could only tap into faces of the deceased. Low and behold, Tristan’s dark locks had been his for a few minutes. The person beside him was dead, and that was the real quicker. The other’s words had him pausing for a second, cursing the fact that he’d managed to run into someone who had known Dante personally. A flash of jealousy ran through Alessio, since the druid was apparently a flirt, but an easy smile appeared on Dante’s features instead, “Sorry. I have a few lives to make it up to you, though. But the real question is – how did you die?” He would have to make up something, quickly, and he cleared his throat. “Truth is – I’ve uh…memories, you know. The druids don’t know what’s happening. They think it’s because of everything going on here. Which is why I’m…here.”

-

It would be so easy to just say that they can be more than friends and maybe begin rolling around on the hillside. They used to spend time in the woods, beneath the trees, just talking, and sometimes they’d talk with their hands instead and just thinking about it makes something in his chest ache. It’s not like they’d been particularly celibate on the surface, Triss was a lover by nature, that was something that the Inferno hadn’t changed. It’s just that August was his priority, had been for years, and that made the idea of seeing someone more than casually difficult. They watch as Dante’s face goes from his own to something all too familiar and there shouldn’t be any surprises left, and yet… Giving a slight nod, they start walking down the cemetery path slowly, hands clasped together as they try to deal with the inner turmoil that came with what they’d just seen. The sinking feeling that the light was on but Dante was not home, that it’d all been too good to be true was fleeting. Before the Inferno, he might have been devastated. But life with August, on this side of the surface, it was full of surprises and magic and all sorts of shenanigans and this was potentially just another adventure. And so he carried on without thinking about it. “I was killed, actually. Was raised by a group of witches despite not being one thanks to my family helping them out. You tried to tell me they were full of shit, I think. Was a little too late though. I was sacrificed to keep something in the woods away, or at least that’s what I’ve gathered after all this time.” The smile he offered is more sad than anything, but it’s brief. “What do you remember? Anything at all?”