ext_162090 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
rev-it-up.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2008-05-23 03:38 pm
rev-it-up.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2008-05-23 03:38 pm
log; ongoing
When; May 23rd, late-ish.
Rating; PG-13, because Nero's mouth has the potential to be dirtier than a superbowl bathroom.
Characters; Nero (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rev_it_up) and Kyrie (sing_my_faith
Summary; Nero's been down for the count, sleeping on park benches and hanging out with Maria, since the mirror city curse. Now he's headed home. Dun dun dun.
Log;
He hasn't been afraid in years. Not of anything that wasn't losing her. His attitude, all up through his late teens, had been one of 'yeah, whatever' coupled with 'come get some' and it hadn't failed him, not once, not until Kyrie was in danger.
He'd gotten past it that once. He'd killed Sanctus, that sonofabitch. He'd stopped Agnus, and he'd saved, well, what was left of Fortuna to save by the time he got there. All in a day's work. But then, there had been no gray. Black and white, kill one megalomaniacal jerkoff to save the world, where's the harm in that?
He knew it was the City. He just... knew it. Logically, rationally, whatever. The City had fucked with his head and screwed him up and made him the badguy, all cast in shade and shadows and whatever, man, whatever, right? That's that, it was over and done.
Nero had never been one to lack faith. The other knights of the Sword had called him an arrogant asshole for a reason. He'd known his limits, and he pushed past them, not realizing until later that his many aptitudes were demonic in origin. No matter what he'd done, no matter how beat to hell he was when he came home, his love for Kyrie - present since they were children, had always, always brought him back from that brink.
Except this time.
He could have killed her.
And it terrified him. Enough that he didn't ever want to go home. Because what if it hadn't been just a curse? What if it was just another demonic song and dance, like manifesting his devil form, that he hadn't known about before? The what-ifs and maybes were taking sideline bets on his sanity and he didn't fucking appreciate it.
It wasn't until he stopped to realize that this was the longest he'd ever spent away from her, since they first met, and that staying away was probably hurting her more than anything else. She loved him. He knew that, had for a while. One of those unspoken things, you know? She loved him and all he could think about was that staying away was safe. Even if it hurt like Hell.
So he went home. It took him three hours to meander back to their apartment building, make up excuses to delay his arrival. He stopped in at a coffee place despite the fact that he hates coffee, and tossed off three java mocha triple shots of 'man that's gay' into the potted plants there. He spent half an hour 'shopping' for groceries, finally came to the conclusion that he had no idea what their place was low on, and left, hands shoved in his jacket pockets.
He made it to the door of their shared apartment as the sun was just starting to kiss the horizon, and knocked after the barest moment of hesitation. The rapping of his knuckles on the door was faint, almost hesitant - if she was sleeping he'd come back tomorrow.
Rating; PG-13, because Nero's mouth has the potential to be dirtier than a superbowl bathroom.
Characters; Nero (
rev_it_up) and Kyrie (sing_my_faithSummary; Nero's been down for the count, sleeping on park benches and hanging out with Maria, since the mirror city curse. Now he's headed home. Dun dun dun.
Log;
He hasn't been afraid in years. Not of anything that wasn't losing her. His attitude, all up through his late teens, had been one of 'yeah, whatever' coupled with 'come get some' and it hadn't failed him, not once, not until Kyrie was in danger.
He'd gotten past it that once. He'd killed Sanctus, that sonofabitch. He'd stopped Agnus, and he'd saved, well, what was left of Fortuna to save by the time he got there. All in a day's work. But then, there had been no gray. Black and white, kill one megalomaniacal jerkoff to save the world, where's the harm in that?
He knew it was the City. He just... knew it. Logically, rationally, whatever. The City had fucked with his head and screwed him up and made him the badguy, all cast in shade and shadows and whatever, man, whatever, right? That's that, it was over and done.
Nero had never been one to lack faith. The other knights of the Sword had called him an arrogant asshole for a reason. He'd known his limits, and he pushed past them, not realizing until later that his many aptitudes were demonic in origin. No matter what he'd done, no matter how beat to hell he was when he came home, his love for Kyrie - present since they were children, had always, always brought him back from that brink.
Except this time.
He could have killed her.
And it terrified him. Enough that he didn't ever want to go home. Because what if it hadn't been just a curse? What if it was just another demonic song and dance, like manifesting his devil form, that he hadn't known about before? The what-ifs and maybes were taking sideline bets on his sanity and he didn't fucking appreciate it.
It wasn't until he stopped to realize that this was the longest he'd ever spent away from her, since they first met, and that staying away was probably hurting her more than anything else. She loved him. He knew that, had for a while. One of those unspoken things, you know? She loved him and all he could think about was that staying away was safe. Even if it hurt like Hell.
So he went home. It took him three hours to meander back to their apartment building, make up excuses to delay his arrival. He stopped in at a coffee place despite the fact that he hates coffee, and tossed off three java mocha triple shots of 'man that's gay' into the potted plants there. He spent half an hour 'shopping' for groceries, finally came to the conclusion that he had no idea what their place was low on, and left, hands shoved in his jacket pockets.
He made it to the door of their shared apartment as the sun was just starting to kiss the horizon, and knocked after the barest moment of hesitation. The rapping of his knuckles on the door was faint, almost hesitant - if she was sleeping he'd come back tomorrow.