[Log] [Complete]

[heartxofxcruxis.livejournal.com]

When; November 18; Night
Rating; PG-13
Characters; [heartxofxcruxis] Yggdrasill & [daddyhaswings] Kratos
Summary; Yggdrasill pays Kratos a simple, peaceful visit.
Log;

By the time Mithos Yggdrasill had reached the door leading to Kratos’ apartment, the loud ticking inside his head had quieted down into a distant sound, one that was much, much easier to ignore. He told himself, this was his only reason for coming to Kratos. He had gotten fairly used to the endless ticking and couldn’t have cared less when he found out being with other people took it away, but tonight, he found it sickeningly unbearable. Enough to seek out company, in any form.

He didn’t know or care for anyone in the city, though and so, in the end, he decided his only option was Kratos. His traitor. He hated Kratos, but, he supposed, compared to what he felt towards Yuan, or his opposition, Kratos was a better choice. He decided then to take advantage of the redhead’s offer.

Had Kratos left the door unlocked for him? Or did the human require him to knock or ring the bell?

Kratos, it seemed, did not know of this surprise visit. If he had, he would certainly not be where he was now, sitting in one of the over stuffed, comfortable armchairs that resided in what could be considered his 'living room'. He had no real problenm with the ticking, really. Sure, it was a bothersome, constant annoyance, but he was used to those. After 4,000 years, you learned how to tune things out.

Though, he did wonder over the ever-increasing softness of it. He didn't think there was anybody else close enough to drive it away.

Though Mithos was no stranger to waiting and, obviously, Kratos would have to open the door one day, he was not dumb. Though loathe to knock, ring the bell, or, even call out to Kratos, he knew he had to do one of those if he wanted to go in. Even if he did not require comfort, or any of the sort, in his current state, something to sit on would be appreciated, so he told himself.

”Kratos,” he called out, loud enough, he was sure, for the redhead to hear.

Blinking in confusion, Kratos set down the book he had been reading. He couldn't have heard that ri-- oh yes, he did. All but smacking himself for his own stupidity, he stood up. Well, this would in an interesting night, to say the least.

Walking to the door on the emergency stairway, he undid the lock and peered outside curiously. "Mithos."

Yggdrasill arched an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. “Yggdrasill, Kratos,” he corrected. And, indeed, with him being in his adult form, the name was more fitting. Hearing Kratos use the name and knowing exactly why he kept on using that name made him all the more wary now about letting him use it repeatedly.

He was no longer Mithos, at least, not the Mithos Kratos hoped for him to revert back to.

Sighing, he opened the door further, not willing to argue this point with the blonde. To him, the Angel would always be 'Mithos', no matter what happened. It was the name he had first come to know him by, and no matter what, he would not give up his use of it. Too many (emotions) memories were tied to it to let it go so easily.

Looking the other over, the redhead raised one fine eyebrow, arms crossed. "And to what do I owe this visit, Mithos?"

Cruxis’ former (and that stung) leader glided across the floor, ignoring Kratos momentarily until he found a sofa. He sat on it wordlessly and retracted his wings before answering his (once again) former seraphim. “Nothing, really. I certainly didn’t come to indulge you nor to accept your offer. The ticking simply became annoying, Kratos.”

Said (former) Seraphin watched from a distance, following at a more sedated pace. It was not a surprise to see that dying had not, in any way, put a dent in that otherwordly air that the angel seemed to have about him when he was like this, and Kratos wasn't sure if he should be glad or not. "Is that so."

“Of course, now that I am here, maybe a little bit of nostalgia is in order?” Mithos closed his eyes and smirked. “Considering the other times I’ve been here, I was hardly in a proper state of mind. And before the, let’s say, brief intermission in my plans, we never did get to speak properly, Kratos.”

Seating himself in his once-abandoned chair, Kratos watched the other carefully. While he could sense no melicious intent in Mithos' actions, it was still not a good idea to let his guard down around the other man. "What did you have in mind, Mithos?"

“Perhaps, we could begin discussion with your betrayal, Kratos? I suddenly find myself curious, you see.”

Tensing up, Kratos slowly looked over to the blonde, sizing him up and making sure he was not getting ready to start something. "...Yes?"

Noticing the redhead seraphim’s reaction, Yggdrasill could not help but laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, my dear Kratos. I promise to keep your quaint little abode unharmed. Hurting you is part of another plan. No, tonight, we merely talk.” He smirked and began sizing up the apartment as he spoke, “I’d like to know, for one, if you had ever stood by my side, Kratos.” His voice hardened. “Or if both you and Yuan were traitors from the beginning.”

Not relaxing yet, Kratos kept a wary eye on his former superior. Mithos was, after all, nothing is not cunning. "Of course I was. I would not have followed you for as long as I have if I was not loyal to you." If there was one thing he had not expected to be doing tonight, it was this. "Until Anna, that is. But you already know that."

“Yes. Anna. The human.” That wasn’t news to him and it sent a familiar pang in his chest remembering who his once-friend had betrayed him for. It was a bit… odd… thinking he and the human before him had once been friends. A myth; it was almost like that and perhaps, given the time that had passed, it was just a myth now. Now, Yggdrasill could not imagine being friends with anyone, not in the sense humans put it anyway. Friends were for benefits. Mere tools now.

He felt nothing.

“How can I forget?” he asked rhetorically before pausing dramatically for effect and staring straight at Kratos. “Was it loyalty, though, Kratos? Or had it been because you simply had nothing else to do? If I remember right, none of us were in a very good social position after Martel.” And there, Yggdrasill refused to mention her death. She wasn’t dead, would never be, and he refused to say it.

The casual way he said her name riled Kratos, made him want to get up, tell him that he was more then just 'the human'. Anna had been his world for that short time, had been his sun and moon and everything in between. He kept these feeling to himself, though. How could he explain to Mithos what he refused to aknowlage? That Anna had been worth it?

"It was loyalty. You forget, Mithos, how close we were back then. I would have killed anyone for you, if you had asked." And he had, the back of his mind screamed, and for a brief, fleeting second he remembered a sea of faces, boys and girls who's names he could not remember. Each and every one of them he had lead to their death, uncaring about their lives, all for the man that sat before him.

Yggdrasill sat deeper into the sofa and appeared to be bored. “I don’t see the merit in remembering useless… events. That closeness clearly didn’t get us anywhere, did it, Kratos?” Before the redhead could answer, he suddenly added, “Why don’t anyone of you understand the beauty of a still world, void of complicating emotion and discrimination, Kratos? With nothing to spark it, there would be no betrayal, no hatred, no envy, no pain….”

"And no love, no happiness, no family." Kratos had seen this argument before, had sat through it hundreds of time, but this time he was going to put his two cents it, for once. "If this world were like you envision it, then people like your sister would never be born. What we had back then...that bond, it would be a thing of the past."

“And why should it matter if I can’t have mine back?” Yggdrasill said quietly, and then laughed, as if it to erase the vulnerability he had presented in himself. “In the new world, there wouldn’t be a need for a family, an older sister, trivial, fleeting, things like love and happiness and family. Everyone would be fine alone, perfectly fine.”

But he couldn't erase it, not after Kratos had heard it. Sighing, he watched the blonde laugh, feeling once more like a fool for letting him get this far. If he had only... "Sometimes life can be cruel, but with sadness there can be no joy. I'm sure, if given the choice, most would prefer it to nothingness."

“And that is only because they have never felt nothingness. Neither have you, Kratos.” The blond seraphim closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly. “It’s beautiful, Kratos, don’t you know? Numb. Empty. I could not afford reaching it yet, not with unfinished plans, but I feel it now… a taste of it. It feels good to no longer feel emotions at such a human level, Kratos, why can’t anyone understand that?

"Because they enjoy their lives as they are, Mithos." Watching him speak like this, after all these years it still stung, to hear those words from that mouth. The Mithos he remembered, he would have never spoken such words.

“At the price of others’ happiness!” Yggdrasill interjected heatedly before calming down again and settling back into the seemingly emotionless state he was more often in now. “If everyone is equal, if everyone met in the middle, nobody would be sad. So what if nobody was happy? If no such extremes existed… there wouldn’t be any betrayals. You—“ He pointed accusingly at Kratos. “—wouldn’t have left me.”

This was going to get them nowhere. Closing his eyes and counting to ten, Kratos stood suddenly. "Do you wish for something to eat, Mithos?" The boy never had been a decent cook, if memory served him right.

“You know I don’t need to eat, Kratos,” Yggdrasill said unamusedly but after a few moments, he added, “Anything will do, Kratos.”

Turning abruptly, Kratos tried to keep himself as relaxed as possible, to not let the blonde know he had any power over him. you show Mithos weakness, and he will capitalize on it. "...Pancakes?"

“It’s Pancake Time!” Yggdrasill said playfully, making sure he used his younger voice in an attempt to imitate Genis. “If I remember right…” He got up from the seat and the wings behind his back reappeared. “That was what he liked saying before that earth-based spell… Stalagmite, was it? Kratos, now, I’m sure you remember.”

Biting his lip inwardly, Kratos tried to keep himself in check. It has hard, to hear him use that voice. Turning, he looked at his (former) best friend, noting the wings absently. "I never payed much attention, really. Too focused on the task at hand to notice."

“Too focused on trying to kill me, you mean?”

The blond seraphim began gliding around the apartment, taking in all that Kratos owned with what looked to be a mixture of curiosity and amusement. However, anyone who knew Mithos long enough would have been able to see a brilliant mind at work, gathering information from what would look like normal day-to-day materials to the normal spectator.

Gritting his teeth at the barb, he started to search for the needed ingrediants. Kratos had never gotten the hang of those instant 'mixes' they were selling in the stores around here. Centuries of cooking things from scratch had ingrained such simple recipies into his mind.

Mithos had easily noticed the way Kratos seemed to tense at his words. He smirked, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but miss the banter… just a bit. He floated to the spot just behind Kratos.

”You know, you were always the best cook amongst us, Kratos,” he paused and the snorted indignantly, remembering Raine and Genis. “I suppose cooking was never destined to be a half-elf trait? Even Genis’ sister’s cooking was horrible.”

The mere memory of Raine's 'cooking' brought Kratos' gag reflex to the surface, and he fought the urge to do so. "That woman couldn't cook to save her life." He wasn't being cruel, it was the truth, after all. Raine could NOT cook.

“Makes you wonder how Genis put up with her, don’t you think? Martel was like that. What you do and go for your sister…” Yggdrasill almost sounded wistful, but his voice remained somewhat void of any emotion other than boredom.

Turning, Kratos stared at him for a moment, remembering once again how they had been. The four of them. Together. "They seemed to get along rather well, really. I guess if you live your life with someone like that, you become comfortable with them."

“I rather miss that life,” Yggdrasill said simply. “But Martel’s not around. Are those pancakes done, Kratos? They had better be good. It’s been a while since I’ve eaten anything.”

So did he. He was about to reply when Mithos asked about the pancakes. Turning back to them, he once again picked up the spatula. "In a minute, Mithos."

“Yggdrasill,” the blond corrected again, this time in a rather annoyed tone. “Really, Kratos, surely calling me Yggdrasill from here on wouldn’t be so hard as changing the world? I tire of hearing that from you and having to correct you every single time. I’m not even in the other form.”

"I would prefer to call you your original name, Mithos." Turning abruptly, he set the finished pancakes down on the table. There were four of them, places one on top of the other in a perfect stack upon a white plate. "Your pancakes."

Minding his manners, Yggdrasill thanked Kratos briefly before gliding towards the table and picking up the plate. “Fork, please, Kratos?” he asked, extending and open hand towards the redhead. “And Yggdrasill is my original name too, mind you.”

Placing said fork in the dainty, fine-boned hand, Kratos raised an eyebrow. "But it is not what I have always called you." The syrup was placed next to the dish, along with a fork. Kratos was always prepared.

“Maybe. But times have changed, Kratos,” Yggdrasill said as he began slicing the pancakes into square bits with the fork. “And we’re hardly the people we were four thousand years ago.”

He popped several pieces of pancake into his mouth and began chewing quietly. Yes, this was Kratos cooking. It had been a while, a long while, and it almost brought back the memories then, but he refused to wallow in the past. This was now. They were different. He had the power to change the world and he would. “You still cook well, Kratos. I commend you.”

Choosing not to comment on that, Kratos leaned against the counter and watched Mithos eat. Even like this, the angel managed to look elegant; long, pale fingers wrapped around the knife and fork, sitting on the chair as if it were a throne. It was times like this he was reminded how beautiful Mithos was.

Yggdrasill noticed Kratos was merely watching him and though he wasn’t exactly bothered by it, he was sure he kept Kratos’ human aspects in tact. “Not hungry Kratos? If I remember right, I did no tinkering with your cruxis crystal that could have led you to losing much of your humanity.”

"I'm not hungry at the moment." He would much rather sit here and observe the other angel. It had been a while since there were in the same room like this, relaxed (as much as they could be) and unarmed.

“You really aren’t?” Yggdrasill sighed and then got up from his seat, one hand armed with the plate, the other with fork. “Don’t make me force you again. Once is enough.” He held up the fork with pancake on it over Kratos mouth. Oh, he remembered then, for sure. Kratos’ body had been Origin’s seal itself and he absolutely could not let it deteriorate. After his human wife’s death, Kratos had been nigh inconsolable, perhaps, suicidal even.

Giving him a surprised look, Kratos blinked slowly once, twice. Reaching out, he let his fingers close carefully around Mithos' wrist (gentle, he reminded himself) and pulled it foward. Slowly, as to make sure that Mithos was not surprised and ready to attack, he leaned foward to take the offered pancake from the fork in one clean bite.

Yggdrasill’s lips curved into a small smile. He met Kratos’ eyes boldly and, without bothering to shake off the hand wrapped around his wrist, leaned closer so their breaths mingled. “Do you want me, Kratos? Do you want this body?”

Eyes widening, Kratos pulled back abruptly, rather flustered. "M-Mithos..." Well, this was unexpected. Now, true, he had kissed him that one time-- twice that time if he was really honest. Not to mention the crush he had on the bonde as a teen... "What makes you think that?"

The blond backed away, smirking. “Or perhaps you’re not attracted to this body, Kratos?” The blond seraphim’s body was briefly engulfed in light and then, when the light receded, all that was left was the small, delicate Mithos, looking innocently up to Kratos. “I could certainly let you call me Mithos in this state, if it would make you so happy?”

Looking away, Kratos grit his teeth. This was not happening. This was not happening. He would not let this get to him. Mithos was just trying to rile him up, and he would not let him do so. "I don't know what your getting at, Mithos, but it's not working."

“I think it is, Kratos,” Mithos said amusedly before forking another piece of pancake from the plate. He made sure his lips were pressed tightly around the fork once the pancake bit was in his mouth and that he was dragging out the fork as slowly as possible. “Did you lust for me, Kratos? This immaculate and angelic body?”

"Stop this, Mithos. I have already said no." Turning his whole body away, the redhead refused to look at the teasing angel, unwilling to let himself get caught up in his game. He knew how dangerous it was to let the little blonde see any weakness.

Mithos left his plate and fork on the table and then floated upwards so he was on eye level with the redhead seraphim and used his hands to tilt the, currently, bigger man’s head to face him. “Then tell me now, right at my face, that you do not want this.”

Gritting his teeth, he glared at the blonde angel, lips pursed tightly closed. He would not lie to the boy's face. Even now, it felt wrong to lie to Mithos, to betray him like that. He never wanted to betray his (one time) friend again. But...he would not admit this.

“Say it, Kratos. I’m waiting…”

"I will not." Keeping his eyes averted, he gently gripped Mithos' slender wrists, pulling them away from his face. "I will not play this game, Mithos."

“You do not like me, then, Kratos?” Mithos laughed. “That wasn’t what you said before? Or was that reserved for slightly augmented versions of me.”

Mithos looked down and seemed to regard his body with a sneer. “This body can take anything, Kratos. A little human brutality won’t hurt it.”

"I will not play this game with you, Mithos." Not letting go of those delicate, slender wrists, Kratos turned to look at him. "I will not say it just for your amusement. I'm not a toy."

The boy laughed. “Kratos, tell me what game I am playing because I’m afraid I don’t know, nor think I am playing anything.” He finished with a challenging smirk, right at Kratos’ face.

"Then why are you doing this, Mithos?" This was frustrating, to say the least. He did not want to play into Mithos' game. He would not play into the boy's game. Why would he say it? So that Mithos could laugh, could tease and taunt and blackmail him? Not happening.

“Simple, Kratos.” Mithos forced his left hand to move, even with Kratos’ hands wrapped around the wrist, and placed his index finger on the tip of the redhead seraphim’s nose. “Because you presented yourself with that kiss.”

Turning away, he let go of Mithos' wrists, walking into the 'living room' area of his warehouse home. He would not deal with this. To let Mithos get to him this much already was bad. He couldn't let it continue further.

Watching Kratos walk away reminded him of why he wanted his own world suddenly. His heart clenched, a bit. There was no place for people like him in this world and if he wanted any place for him and his sister, he was going to have to make it for himself. “Fine, Kratos. Be a cowardly human,” he sneered. “Remember, I offered you this body and you refused.”

He reverted back to his adult form and flicked the hair away from his shoulder. “I believe I’ve overstayed my welcome, haven’t I, Kratos?”

"I'm not going to do anything i it means you will just use me again, Mithos." Giving him a look, Kratos pointedly looked at the blonde's crystal. "I wish that I could say what you wish me to without any second thoughts...but the way things are now, it would only complicate things further."

Yggdrasill laughed and smirked. “Naturally it would, it wouldn’t do to be attracted to your enemy now, would it? What would your son say?”

He didn’t let Kratos answer and moments later, he was already at the door. “The pancakes were good, Kratos. I look forward to speaking to you again like this one day. It had been fun.”