Saint Valentine's Eve
Summary: Tiki asks a contentious question on the evening before Valentine's Day.
Warnings: References to violence. Discussion of religious topics is intended neither to offend anyone nor to reflect my personal beliefs.
Notes: Written for seylyn for an exchange event.
They had gathered in the sitting room of one of the mansions secreted away here and there in the doomed world, five members of the Clan of Noah together on a stormy February evening.
The twins might object to that, thought Tiki idly. He could never quite tell if they considered themselves two people or one. Hell, it might depend on their mood. He had to admit that a member count of thirteen had a certain respectable aura to it.
Besides which, Tiki had learned early on not to mention the number "fourteen" around the Earl. Fourteen was the Noahs’ unlucky number.
Jasdero and Devit looked like two people, and were loud enough for five. Across the the cozy room from where Tiki lounged in an armchair, Devit was leaning against an end table and Jasdero was crouched on his heels on the red carpet. As usual, their guns were casually fixed on each other's heads. They were having a loud conversation that veered between argument and agreement from moment to moment. As far as Tiki could tell, it was about the merits of various outrageous clothing accessories. At the moment Jasdero was arguing for capes.
In an armchair by Devit, Skinn was eating a slice of chocolate cake with a strawberry on top very, very slowly. He was staring off into space, lost in thought. So was Rhode, settled in the chair in the corner of the room. She may have been holding a thick German book, but Tiki knew she hadn't been reading it for the last ten minutes. Her eyes were fixed at a point past Devit's head, the sitting room forgotten, the shouting ignored.
"No, no, no! It's got to be the shoulder pads," Devit was saying with no regard for volume.
"Fluffy ones?" returned Jasdero.
"No, like...metal. I saw a picture."
"And a cape! Both!! Hee!"
"But what about..."
Tiki had no idea what they were talking about. But, completely oblivious to the introspective moods of Rhode and Skinn, they were very excited about it. Saying something about modifying sleeves, Jasdero rocked on his heels and turned an idiot grin up to his twin. His black ribbons and ridiculous dangly light jounced up and down. An unlikely apostle.
Tiki listened to the sounds of steady rainfall and high winds outside. Briefly he wondered how his normal friends, with whom he led a false second life, were doing. Fine, probably. Unless they'd been killed by an Akuma. Tiki abandoned this line of thought as dull and unproductive and mused aloud:
"I wonder if we really are God's chosen."
Rhode swivelled her head to regard him incredulously, Skinn's fork stopped halfway to his mouth, and the twins shut up and stared at him as if he'd started speaking in tongues.
Tiki suddenly felt flustered. "I mean..." What did he mean? "I was just wondering. I mean, how do we know for sure?"
"Of course we're chosen, Tiki," said Rhode, closing her book without marking her place. "You can feel it inside, can't you? We're Noah's people, and we have a purpose."
"Jasdero knows for sure because that's what Rhode told him," said Jasdero.
"I mean, what are you, a dumbass?" said Devit, scowling. (It was clear from his tone that the only answer was "yes.")
Skinn's brow furrowed. "There's no question that we are," he said.
"Otherwise we wouldn't be here," said Devit more brightly.
Tiki had to admit that he did possess an internal awareness of being of Noah, which encompassed a sharp awareness of the world's evil that so moved Skinn when he spoke of it at all. And indeed, Rhode had told Tiki that he was an apostle, one of only thirteen chosen, when he had awakened as one of the Noah.
Rhode was looking at him with a rare expression, almost of compassion, like she'd worn then. She was the oldest of the Noah children, though she looked the youngest in her girl's body, in her petticoats and stockings. "It's okay, Tiki. None of us are like the other humans, no matter what you like to pretend sometimes. They're all so boring, really." But she hesitated, and paused a moment to stare out the window. Under her breath she added "Most of them," almost inaudibly, so that Tiki was sure he was the only one who heard--no, Jasdero looked up at her sharply, curious, but said nothing.
Tiki found the weak and ordinary humans quite interesting himself. Then there were the Exorcists, still so weak and fragile, but with a tantalizing hint of danger. Knowing that none of the others in the room held quite this opinion, though, he held his peace.
Rhode shook her head, clearing some thought, and continued, "That's one of the ways I know we're the chosen ones."
Since she was the oldest, Tiki could not help but rely on her knowledge. Still...
He grinned at her. "But how do you know? That we're apostles, I mean?" He almost added, jokingly, and not just freaks, but but he knew Devit and Jasdero were sensitive to that word, never mind how they'd use it against others without hesitation at times. They were the youngest, and he could manage to restrain himself from upsetting them too badly. Even though they were as irritating as hell.
"The Clan of Noah is immortal. We don't die," rumbled Skinn. He sounded on the edge of anger, but then he shrugged his massive shoulders and resumed eating his cake in small bites. Tiki knew that Skin found him rather odd.
"That's true," said Rhode. She had a little smile on her face as she loooked at Tiki, but her eyes showed that she was upset.
The twins were staring at her anxiously. Not saying a word.
"Do you know many things about saints, Tiki?" she asked him.
"Well..." Tiki tried to recall the cathedrals of Portugal.
Jasdero slipped his fingers under the cord of his headband and felt at the marks on his forehead as if discovering them for the first time.
"Then I'll tell you all about them sometime," said Rhode. "I have this book of saints that's quite interesting."
"With illustrations," said Devit enthusiastically. "There was this guy who was tied to a tree and shot about fifty times with arrows."
Jasdero put a bandage-wrapped hand to his mouth and giggled.
"And there was this woman who--"
"Tomorrow's an important saint's day as well," said Skinn. Often the only way to hold a conversation near the twins was to interrupt them. "Saint Valentine's."
"How did he die?" asked Devit.
"Who's Saint Valentine?" asked Jasdero.
"He has a day where you can eat all the sweets you want," explained Skinn.
This piqued Jasdero and Devit's interest. Jasdero stood, smiling.
Rhode laughed. "I can't believe I almost forgot that!" she said, as if she did not already eat all the sweets she wanted.
"Valentine is the saint of sweet things?" queried Jasdero, head cocked to the side.
"He was the saint of hearts," said Skinn.
"Hearts?" asked Tiki, thinking of how the warm and pulsating heart of an Exorcist felt through thin gloves. That couldn't be right.
"Heart shapes," said Skinn, and ate the strawberry, which was all that remained on his porcelain plate.
"Oh."
"That's not exactly what he was saint of," said Rhode. "But his day is fun!" She shoved her book over the side of the chair to land face-down and open on the carpet and leapt down from her seat.
Judging by the twins' matching grins, they seemed to agree that tomorrow was a day to look forward to.
"Dinner ought to be ready now," said Rhode.
Skin nodded and rose, overshadowing the twins. "They'd better have made it properly this time," he rumbled, and tramped out the door.
Devit trailed after him, tailed by Jasdero. "So did he die from eating too much sugar?" asked Devit, getting no reply.
Jasdero suddenly gave a shrieking giggle and prodded his twin in the shoulder with his pistol. "Hearts!" he said.
Devit looked back curiously. "Hearts?"
"Hearts!" They disappeared into the hall.
Rhode looked at the doorway for a moment, hands clasped behind her back. A great lethargy weighed down on Tiki, and he only just found the energy to rise from his chair. February the thirteenth, he thought, and felt oddly reassured by the number. Rhode whirled to face him.
"I have a secret to tell you," she said, beckoning him closer. Tiki leaned over.
Rhode put a hand to his ear and whispered, "We really are God's chosen."
Tiki straightened and looked at her. She was looking at him with such a brilliant, knowing smile on her face that he decided he had to believe her. For today.
"Also, St. Valentine's day isn't about sweets, it's about love," said Rhode, and seized his wrist and led him into the hall.
Warnings: References to violence. Discussion of religious topics is intended neither to offend anyone nor to reflect my personal beliefs.
Notes: Written for seylyn for an exchange event.
They had gathered in the sitting room of one of the mansions secreted away here and there in the doomed world, five members of the Clan of Noah together on a stormy February evening.
The twins might object to that, thought Tiki idly. He could never quite tell if they considered themselves two people or one. Hell, it might depend on their mood. He had to admit that a member count of thirteen had a certain respectable aura to it.
Besides which, Tiki had learned early on not to mention the number "fourteen" around the Earl. Fourteen was the Noahs’ unlucky number.
Jasdero and Devit looked like two people, and were loud enough for five. Across the the cozy room from where Tiki lounged in an armchair, Devit was leaning against an end table and Jasdero was crouched on his heels on the red carpet. As usual, their guns were casually fixed on each other's heads. They were having a loud conversation that veered between argument and agreement from moment to moment. As far as Tiki could tell, it was about the merits of various outrageous clothing accessories. At the moment Jasdero was arguing for capes.
In an armchair by Devit, Skinn was eating a slice of chocolate cake with a strawberry on top very, very slowly. He was staring off into space, lost in thought. So was Rhode, settled in the chair in the corner of the room. She may have been holding a thick German book, but Tiki knew she hadn't been reading it for the last ten minutes. Her eyes were fixed at a point past Devit's head, the sitting room forgotten, the shouting ignored.
"No, no, no! It's got to be the shoulder pads," Devit was saying with no regard for volume.
"Fluffy ones?" returned Jasdero.
"No, like...metal. I saw a picture."
"And a cape! Both!! Hee!"
"But what about..."
Tiki had no idea what they were talking about. But, completely oblivious to the introspective moods of Rhode and Skinn, they were very excited about it. Saying something about modifying sleeves, Jasdero rocked on his heels and turned an idiot grin up to his twin. His black ribbons and ridiculous dangly light jounced up and down. An unlikely apostle.
Tiki listened to the sounds of steady rainfall and high winds outside. Briefly he wondered how his normal friends, with whom he led a false second life, were doing. Fine, probably. Unless they'd been killed by an Akuma. Tiki abandoned this line of thought as dull and unproductive and mused aloud:
"I wonder if we really are God's chosen."
Rhode swivelled her head to regard him incredulously, Skinn's fork stopped halfway to his mouth, and the twins shut up and stared at him as if he'd started speaking in tongues.
Tiki suddenly felt flustered. "I mean..." What did he mean? "I was just wondering. I mean, how do we know for sure?"
"Of course we're chosen, Tiki," said Rhode, closing her book without marking her place. "You can feel it inside, can't you? We're Noah's people, and we have a purpose."
"Jasdero knows for sure because that's what Rhode told him," said Jasdero.
"I mean, what are you, a dumbass?" said Devit, scowling. (It was clear from his tone that the only answer was "yes.")
Skinn's brow furrowed. "There's no question that we are," he said.
"Otherwise we wouldn't be here," said Devit more brightly.
Tiki had to admit that he did possess an internal awareness of being of Noah, which encompassed a sharp awareness of the world's evil that so moved Skinn when he spoke of it at all. And indeed, Rhode had told Tiki that he was an apostle, one of only thirteen chosen, when he had awakened as one of the Noah.
Rhode was looking at him with a rare expression, almost of compassion, like she'd worn then. She was the oldest of the Noah children, though she looked the youngest in her girl's body, in her petticoats and stockings. "It's okay, Tiki. None of us are like the other humans, no matter what you like to pretend sometimes. They're all so boring, really." But she hesitated, and paused a moment to stare out the window. Under her breath she added "Most of them," almost inaudibly, so that Tiki was sure he was the only one who heard--no, Jasdero looked up at her sharply, curious, but said nothing.
Tiki found the weak and ordinary humans quite interesting himself. Then there were the Exorcists, still so weak and fragile, but with a tantalizing hint of danger. Knowing that none of the others in the room held quite this opinion, though, he held his peace.
Rhode shook her head, clearing some thought, and continued, "That's one of the ways I know we're the chosen ones."
Since she was the oldest, Tiki could not help but rely on her knowledge. Still...
He grinned at her. "But how do you know? That we're apostles, I mean?" He almost added, jokingly, and not just freaks, but but he knew Devit and Jasdero were sensitive to that word, never mind how they'd use it against others without hesitation at times. They were the youngest, and he could manage to restrain himself from upsetting them too badly. Even though they were as irritating as hell.
"The Clan of Noah is immortal. We don't die," rumbled Skinn. He sounded on the edge of anger, but then he shrugged his massive shoulders and resumed eating his cake in small bites. Tiki knew that Skin found him rather odd.
"That's true," said Rhode. She had a little smile on her face as she loooked at Tiki, but her eyes showed that she was upset.
The twins were staring at her anxiously. Not saying a word.
"Do you know many things about saints, Tiki?" she asked him.
"Well..." Tiki tried to recall the cathedrals of Portugal.
Jasdero slipped his fingers under the cord of his headband and felt at the marks on his forehead as if discovering them for the first time.
"Then I'll tell you all about them sometime," said Rhode. "I have this book of saints that's quite interesting."
"With illustrations," said Devit enthusiastically. "There was this guy who was tied to a tree and shot about fifty times with arrows."
Jasdero put a bandage-wrapped hand to his mouth and giggled.
"And there was this woman who--"
"Tomorrow's an important saint's day as well," said Skinn. Often the only way to hold a conversation near the twins was to interrupt them. "Saint Valentine's."
"How did he die?" asked Devit.
"Who's Saint Valentine?" asked Jasdero.
"He has a day where you can eat all the sweets you want," explained Skinn.
This piqued Jasdero and Devit's interest. Jasdero stood, smiling.
Rhode laughed. "I can't believe I almost forgot that!" she said, as if she did not already eat all the sweets she wanted.
"Valentine is the saint of sweet things?" queried Jasdero, head cocked to the side.
"He was the saint of hearts," said Skinn.
"Hearts?" asked Tiki, thinking of how the warm and pulsating heart of an Exorcist felt through thin gloves. That couldn't be right.
"Heart shapes," said Skinn, and ate the strawberry, which was all that remained on his porcelain plate.
"Oh."
"That's not exactly what he was saint of," said Rhode. "But his day is fun!" She shoved her book over the side of the chair to land face-down and open on the carpet and leapt down from her seat.
Judging by the twins' matching grins, they seemed to agree that tomorrow was a day to look forward to.
"Dinner ought to be ready now," said Rhode.
Skin nodded and rose, overshadowing the twins. "They'd better have made it properly this time," he rumbled, and tramped out the door.
Devit trailed after him, tailed by Jasdero. "So did he die from eating too much sugar?" asked Devit, getting no reply.
Jasdero suddenly gave a shrieking giggle and prodded his twin in the shoulder with his pistol. "Hearts!" he said.
Devit looked back curiously. "Hearts?"
"Hearts!" They disappeared into the hall.
Rhode looked at the doorway for a moment, hands clasped behind her back. A great lethargy weighed down on Tiki, and he only just found the energy to rise from his chair. February the thirteenth, he thought, and felt oddly reassured by the number. Rhode whirled to face him.
"I have a secret to tell you," she said, beckoning him closer. Tiki leaned over.
Rhode put a hand to his ear and whispered, "We really are God's chosen."
Tiki straightened and looked at her. She was looking at him with such a brilliant, knowing smile on her face that he decided he had to believe her. For today.
"Also, St. Valentine's day isn't about sweets, it's about love," said Rhode, and seized his wrist and led him into the hall.