❝ when i lost you i lost a good love and a hand to bite. ❞
also gonna @arsarcane about this one, since it's a Null Cell thing.
"When I lost you, I lost a good love and a hand to bite." Alistair didn't make eye contact, and Asher didn't really need him to. It was a hot night, the desert heat not yet burned off, and the sky was an endless, moonless kind of black. Alistair was leant on the railing of the hotel balcony, silhouetted by Vegas's many colorful lights, but altogether apart from them. Okay. He could do this. Asher was used to talking to ghosts.
"For the record, you never lost me. You pushed me away. There's some kind of difference." Asher shook free a cigarette from his pack and fumbled for his lighter–and Alistair gave him an exaggerated eye-roll about it.
"Semantics."
"Don't bring out your four-dollar words right now. And hey, look away. Your Beast won't like it, if you don't."
"Didn't you hear? Mom brought me back mortal."
Asher whistled, then lit his cigarette. True to his word, Alistair didn't have any sort of fear frenzy; he watched with large, dark eyes. Asher did his best to remain unflappable, leaning against the cooling stone of the wall and taking a nice long drag of his cigarette. He was supposed to be trying to quit–but everyone involved knew full well that he wouldn't be getting through this conversation without some kind of crutch.
"You've got nothing to say about that?" Alistair asked, elbows on the railing, head cocked imperiously.
"I've got questions. But our mom is a mysterious woman, and she's a mage, so I don't think it's my place to ask 'em."
"Ask away."
"Aight. Are you going to run off and get bit again?"
"Mm? Ah. I'm not sure."
"You're allowed to say yes. If it's a yes." Asher took another drag from his cigarette, wishing desperately that he had something stronger, or that he were anywhere else.
"When I say I'm not sure, I mean it. I've been enjoying the sun on my skin."
"Right. Okay. I'm glad you were an easy case, at least."
"What, Ajax wasn't?"
"Cosmic balance bullshit. No. Aaron was the harder sell, though." Asher blew out a thick cloud of smoke, barely resisting coughing. Fuck. It had been a little too long–he'd lost all semblance of endurance.
"Aaron? What happened to him?"
"I–oh. Fuuuuuck. Let's say…your Crones honestly did care about you. Got their revenge."
"Horrific. Blood and fire?"
"More blood than fire. He was fine, in a way. And then he wasn't. Moose and I had to–"
"Enough."
There was silence for a moment, Alistair breathing deeply and Asher hardly moving. There was music somewhere far below them–the city never really slept, after all. Vegas was a den of sin and poor stage magicians.
"I hated you," Alistair spat, finally, "for taking away our mother. For–for eating through our family like a moth at a sweater. Why couldn't you have been anyone else?"
"I ask myself the same damn thing. You can still hate me. Y'know. If you want."
"I don't–how could I? You took her away, and you did bring her back."
"And now she's fixing the messes that I made–"
"You're arrogant enough to blame yourself for my coven's murderous tendencies? Get a grip."
"Alistair–I really don't think I can do this right now."
"I think it's now or never. Clean out the wound, or let it go septic. Your choice."
"You're still a dick for cursing me, and I don't forgive you."
"Seems it worked out okay. You know. Since it was a love curse, and you're marrying her." Alistair gestured to Asher's ring–still kept on his index finger, since they'd had no time to talk it back over, yet.
"That came later."
"Right. I think I get to call you a dick for orchestrating my death."
"Not my brightest moment, admittedly."
"Thank you."
"Welcome. Is that–is that what we're doing? Admitting we're both unforgivable?"
"Yes. But not…without merit. Like I said. Good love and a hand to bite." Alistair was looking at the black sky now, starless, what with the light pollution.
"I'd prefer you not bite me. Especially if you get your fangs back."
"What, scared of monsters?"
"Scared is a stretch. Wary. My best friend is half vampire, and I'll just say…I don't understand, I don't think I ever will, and you're all going to have to accept my distance. That and mages. They're creeps."
"You almost were one."
"I was! I didn't get there, though. So I can say it."
"They can hear you. Probably."
"Good. Then they know my damn opinions. Nearly got this city destroyed. Nothing I've ever done has been on that kind of scale."
"Point."
"I think that makes four-one?" Asher made a gesture, sort of like swinging a tennis racquet.
"Honestly? Call it game-set-match. I don't have the energy to elucidate right now."
"Right, you haven't slept since being…remade."
"And we've got a family reunion soon."
"And…that. Lots of bad blood is about to be spilled."
"Quite. You're cleaning up your own messes."
"Only if you'll own up to yours."
"I will. God knows you'd throw me under the bus, if I didn't."
"Right! Catching on fast. Go, get your sleep. I'll be out here."
"Mhmm. Don't plan my death again while I'm out."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Asher watched Alistair carefully as he walked inside, and then promised himself he'd be out of town by sun-up. No more of this, and no more of Vegas.
It was done.
