LOG; i can feel my heart growing old; VAN + RENÉE
Van and Renée, afternoon of September 1st, moving help.
Van had kept Simone's words in mind about the theater and how Howard Mason would be going, now even eager to go and see whom Howard would converse with during the show. While he doubted everyone around Howard would be a Knight, he wanted to keep a close eye on his relationships anyway.
But that was still days ahead.
Having Renée move into the house was certainly a random suggestion on Van's part but he didn't mind if it was her. They were really becoming attached to each other in the strangest (and some unfortunate) ways.
But why did Van... feel... weird?
He had always been good at socializing but with Renée there was more of this constant alert she was going to punch you at any unsuspecting moment.
Van stopped spacing out and rang Renée's doorbell.
She only punched people when she felt they deserved it-- except during training, which is when she'd punch you as soon as she caught you off guard. But Renée didn't have any intention of beating up Van today; there were things to do and, well, she just didn't feel like it.
Accepting Van's offer to move in had required a good deal of thought and while she wasn't the most impulsive of people, lingering too much on a decision didn't sit well with her, so she had accepted quicker than many people would have. It was the logical thing to do, she wasn't about to pay rent for a three-bedroom flat when she was the only one in her family left in Paris. It would probably make getting to meetings and training more convenient if she lived with him, as well.
The flat was somewhat messy, Joelle's move had left it sparse in some places and cluttered in others. There were boxes all over the place and Robin's things.. Renée didn't really know what to do about those. All she really needed to take to Van's were her clothes and more personal belongings-- the photographs still hung on the wall, for one. She had been sitting in a pile of random knick-knacks and books and.. trash before the doorbell rang, looking through an old photo album she didn't know she had.
Getting up, she haphazardly tied her hair into a ponytail, tucking loose strands behind her ears as she went to open the door.
"Hey," she greeted, moving aside to let him in. "It's kind of a wreck in here, I don't really know where to start."
"Isn't the answer simple?" he looked at the boxes that lay everywhere. "Start with the large and heavy ones first."
Those were quite the number of boxes. How much stuff was she bringing anyway?
Truthfully, Renée didn't even....... know what she was bringing. There was a piano that no one had played in years that she didn't quite want to throw away, and things like furniture that would just be a waste to leave behind-- and there were still all of Robin's things.
"Right. The large and heavy things."
...
"What do I do with all the things I'm not bringing?"
There wasn't any space for a piano in the house though, so Van hadn't much of an idea what to do with it.
"A sale," he shrugged. "Or donate it."
"Your house has most of the things I'll need for now, so I won't be needing to take most of this to your place. I'm putting things like the kitchenware and bookcases, things like that, into storage-- the rest I can donate."
There were more than enough people who would need or want these things, after all.
"Okay, you take the kitchen. I'll pack up the stuff here."
Somehow he found it funny that she was pointing him into the kitchen but he nodded and went over, seeing even more boxes around the floor and table. Van leaned over some of the boxes to see what was inside, just to be sure.
A weird thumping noise caught his attention. Van listened, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise but it sounded as if it was somewhere else in the room.
As he walked by the table, he noticed a picture randomly sticking out and picked it up to look at it.
It was a photo of Renée and Liliya at the beach and Jesus Christ there really was no modesty when it came to beaches, was there? (Though Liliya's bikini didn't even seem to fit her in comparison to Renée.)
Even after they'd broken up they'd been on good terms, and that trip had been fun. She could think back on their relationship without feeling anything negative, which was a nice change from.. other ones she'd had. And what could she say? Both of them had nice bodies. No reason to be ashamed of it, especially at a place like the beach.
While Van was puttering around the kitchen Renée was packing books into a box, old novels her parents had read, childhood fairytale stories for them, and so on-- she hadn't realized that they owned so many books.
What was that sound? She could only make out a faint thumping sound but nothing more than that. After listening for a few more moments she simply went back to work.
But that sound, while not loud or entirely suspicious, kept going on and Van had to stop moving around to pause and listen again.
"Is there a mouse in here?" he called. It was somewhat common when people moved; little creatures and other unwanted things made their new homes in buildings at these times.
"We've never had mice before," she called back, getting up and walking in the kitchen. "Where is that noise coming from?"
The thumping increased in frequency and Renée looked suspiciously at a box behind him.
"Hold on a sec." Walking past him she bent down to open it when a very familiar yellow canary zoomed out of it and flew right past her.
Van stared dumbfounded at Cosette as she chirped and perched herself on Van's head.
When had she even followed him?
...what kind of bird did that anyway?
"... When did she get in?" She asked, looking just as surprised as Van did. " ... What the hell kind of bird does that, anyway?"
"You picked a bird from hell. Seriously. First-degree murder and now breaking and entering."
She had to laugh at that, somehow it was oddly fitting that the first pet she'd pick out was.. fucking psycho. And it was Van's, so that made sense too.
"Would you expect anything less from something I picked?" Smirking, she turned back to head into the living room again.
"Guess not," he answered and went back to the boxes in the kitchen.
It took them both a while to finish up their respective areas, packing was never an easy thing to do and Renée was glad Van had offered to help, because she probably wouldn't have asked anyone anyway. Since the kitchen and living room were both done, she instructed him to work on her room. She'd packed away her clothes, at least, so.. nothing like random bras would be found.
It didn't feel right for him to take care of Robin's things, and she quietly began to sort out his things and put them into boxes.
He had seen female undergarments before so even if Van had uncovered one of her bras, it was nothing alien to him.
Van had wondered how much time had passed when he had finished with Renée's room, because he had felt a bit tired. He found himself sitting on her bed, just thinking to himself and how he would have company again in his home.
It wouldn't be right to say she was replacing Ferdi's space. She wasn't but when he really thought about it, Van was definitely closer to Renée than he had been with Ferdi.
Both of them had lost younger brothers, but for entirely different reasons. Renée would never have killed Robin, Sigil or duty be damned. But even if she couldn't say she'd do the same in Van's position, she could say that she didn't judge him for it, which was.. weird. Family should never willingly be killed, and yet, she found herself bending her personal values to accept Van.
Robin's books, clothes, and school things were tucked away into boxes that she'd never see after today and in another, smaller box, she put pictures, his favorite shirt, things of more sentimental value that she would hold onto. And when she finally finished she stood at the doorway of his room, surveying the room with bare walls with a pervasive feeling of melancholy.
Before she could let herself dwell on it longer she got out, passing by Joelle's empty room on the way to hers.
"Moving said they'll be here in a few hours, they'll sort out storage and what I want to donate."
"They'll carry out the heavier things then," Van said and flopped down onto the bed. "Try not to take advantage of my home." He joked.
She took a seat beside him, before stretching and lying down herself.
"Too bad, your refrigerator's mine," she joked back. "And all of Sophie's cookies, too. You can have the grits."
Grits.
He hated grits so much now.
"Go ahead and get fat then." He snarked back.
"Then I'll bodyslam you and you'll be wishing you never said that." Renée didn't take any remarks about getting fat very seriously, she exercised on a regular basis and all her weight went to her boobs, anyway.
"Not if I threw you out a window," Van probably could do it much easier now with his powers.
"I'd drag you out with me. And then I'd land on top of you so you'd break my fall."
...
"Jesus Christ, what's wrong with you?" he muttered and inched away from her.
...
"You started it," she shot back sullenly, before laughing a little at how ridiculous the conversation was. Stifling a yawn, she added, "And like hell I'd get fat."
Renée resisted the urge to say, 'It's as likely as you growing taller than me.' He'd probably really throw her out a window, then.
"Our metabolisms are going to screw us all over some day." Van said bluntly. "You'll at least gain some weight."
"Yeah, but I won't be fat. Just... pleasantly plump or whatever."
Imagining Van as a short fat man was somehow hilarious, though.
Oh, he had definitely read her mind on that.
"Okay, let's not think that far ahead. We're just in our twenties."
"Alright, alright. Who knows what we'll be doing when we're older, anyway." It wasn't voiced that maybe they wouldn't make it through the year.
Van frowned, reflecting upon the war and the deaths of Madeleine, Jacques, Laertes, Jean, Ivonnicus, Robin and Quinn. He didn't have any intentions of dying, not when they had made it this far. Just to persevere a few months and find the remaining Sigils and keep everything in Order to open the Gates.
Just a little bit longer.
Except even Van hadn't pick up any signs of a Sigil in Paris.
She fell into silence when he didn't reply, pondering the same things he was at that very moment without realizing it.
"Something on your mind?"
"Not really," he answered and turned over to face her. "Did you see what Simone said about the show happening on the weekend? One of the Knights is going."
She nodded, not pressing the question any further.
"Yeah, I did. We'll have to go, too. But I don't think the new Soldiers could, their General might end up showing as well. They already know the rest of our faces so it doesn't matter if they see us or not."
"Exactly," Van smirked, thankful they were on the same track. "Plus it could be a good show." He added.
"Then we have nothing to lose." She smiled back, they needed to have the upper edge in this war.
"...You know," she started, turning over to look at the ceiling. "I didn't take the Order or this war that seriously in the beginning. It was money and training from my powers, the rest just seemed like bullshit."
"But now, there's no way that I'll let us lose," she finished quietly.
If he had known that from the start he probably would have smacked her but...
"I guess I can say the same, a bit. I was more interested for my own reasons, even if the ones who brought me in ended up kicking the shit out of me to show me my place then. But it was all worth it."
Had killing Ferdi been worth it? She supposed that only time would tell.
"Yeah. It's still weird to think we're the only original members left of our team."
Van shut his eyes and yawned.
"If we have too many regrets it'll just make it harder to move onwards."
She yawned too, it was weird how when one person yawned others followed.
"You're not allowed to go dying on me like the other Generals." Renée closed her eyes as well and turned over on her side, her back facing Van. She could feel the warmth from his body at her back, though, which was nice.
He leaned his head a little on her shoulder.
"You always say that and I always say I'm not going to. I'm still here, aren't I?"
"It never hurts to make sure," she murmured, lost in her own thoughts. Her father had broken their family, both her parents had died, her baby brother was gone, and now her sister was halfway across the world.
Independent or not.. being alone wasn't a good feeling.
Van had willingly separated himself from his family, yet still brought tragedy among them by killing Ferdi. If Lies ever found out, she would destroy him for sure.
But true, having someone around from time to time was pleasant.
"Like I told Jan, I'm not dying till I'm an old man. A really, old man."
She blinked drowsily, not finding much reassurance in his words-- because how could you prevent death from coming? But his voice was nice to listen to and just talking and sharing some time with someone who was in this war with her was calming.
"Well, good. You've grown on me, after all." Renée closed her eyes, ready to doze off.
"Just as planned," he joked, eyes still shut.
"Learning French for me helped," she joked back. "And the flowers."
Actually neither of those had really helped to win her over.
What a bitch.
"At least we have a mutual understanding now," he mumbled tiredly. Or whatever it was.
"Yeah... something like that," she responded sleepily.
She was a bitch, he was a dick. It all worked out.
Van had kept Simone's words in mind about the theater and how Howard Mason would be going, now even eager to go and see whom Howard would converse with during the show. While he doubted everyone around Howard would be a Knight, he wanted to keep a close eye on his relationships anyway.
But that was still days ahead.
Having Renée move into the house was certainly a random suggestion on Van's part but he didn't mind if it was her. They were really becoming attached to each other in the strangest (and some unfortunate) ways.
But why did Van... feel... weird?
He had always been good at socializing but with Renée there was more of this constant alert she was going to punch you at any unsuspecting moment.
Van stopped spacing out and rang Renée's doorbell.
She only punched people when she felt they deserved it-- except during training, which is when she'd punch you as soon as she caught you off guard. But Renée didn't have any intention of beating up Van today; there were things to do and, well, she just didn't feel like it.
Accepting Van's offer to move in had required a good deal of thought and while she wasn't the most impulsive of people, lingering too much on a decision didn't sit well with her, so she had accepted quicker than many people would have. It was the logical thing to do, she wasn't about to pay rent for a three-bedroom flat when she was the only one in her family left in Paris. It would probably make getting to meetings and training more convenient if she lived with him, as well.
The flat was somewhat messy, Joelle's move had left it sparse in some places and cluttered in others. There were boxes all over the place and Robin's things.. Renée didn't really know what to do about those. All she really needed to take to Van's were her clothes and more personal belongings-- the photographs still hung on the wall, for one. She had been sitting in a pile of random knick-knacks and books and.. trash before the doorbell rang, looking through an old photo album she didn't know she had.
Getting up, she haphazardly tied her hair into a ponytail, tucking loose strands behind her ears as she went to open the door.
"Hey," she greeted, moving aside to let him in. "It's kind of a wreck in here, I don't really know where to start."
"Isn't the answer simple?" he looked at the boxes that lay everywhere. "Start with the large and heavy ones first."
Those were quite the number of boxes. How much stuff was she bringing anyway?
Truthfully, Renée didn't even....... know what she was bringing. There was a piano that no one had played in years that she didn't quite want to throw away, and things like furniture that would just be a waste to leave behind-- and there were still all of Robin's things.
"Right. The large and heavy things."
...
"What do I do with all the things I'm not bringing?"
There wasn't any space for a piano in the house though, so Van hadn't much of an idea what to do with it.
"A sale," he shrugged. "Or donate it."
"Your house has most of the things I'll need for now, so I won't be needing to take most of this to your place. I'm putting things like the kitchenware and bookcases, things like that, into storage-- the rest I can donate."
There were more than enough people who would need or want these things, after all.
"Okay, you take the kitchen. I'll pack up the stuff here."
Somehow he found it funny that she was pointing him into the kitchen but he nodded and went over, seeing even more boxes around the floor and table. Van leaned over some of the boxes to see what was inside, just to be sure.
A weird thumping noise caught his attention. Van listened, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise but it sounded as if it was somewhere else in the room.
As he walked by the table, he noticed a picture randomly sticking out and picked it up to look at it.
It was a photo of Renée and Liliya at the beach and Jesus Christ there really was no modesty when it came to beaches, was there? (Though Liliya's bikini didn't even seem to fit her in comparison to Renée.)
Even after they'd broken up they'd been on good terms, and that trip had been fun. She could think back on their relationship without feeling anything negative, which was a nice change from.. other ones she'd had. And what could she say? Both of them had nice bodies. No reason to be ashamed of it, especially at a place like the beach.
While Van was puttering around the kitchen Renée was packing books into a box, old novels her parents had read, childhood fairytale stories for them, and so on-- she hadn't realized that they owned so many books.
What was that sound? She could only make out a faint thumping sound but nothing more than that. After listening for a few more moments she simply went back to work.
But that sound, while not loud or entirely suspicious, kept going on and Van had to stop moving around to pause and listen again.
"Is there a mouse in here?" he called. It was somewhat common when people moved; little creatures and other unwanted things made their new homes in buildings at these times.
"We've never had mice before," she called back, getting up and walking in the kitchen. "Where is that noise coming from?"
The thumping increased in frequency and Renée looked suspiciously at a box behind him.
"Hold on a sec." Walking past him she bent down to open it when a very familiar yellow canary zoomed out of it and flew right past her.
Van stared dumbfounded at Cosette as she chirped and perched herself on Van's head.
When had she even followed him?
...what kind of bird did that anyway?
"... When did she get in?" She asked, looking just as surprised as Van did. " ... What the hell kind of bird does that, anyway?"
"You picked a bird from hell. Seriously. First-degree murder and now breaking and entering."
She had to laugh at that, somehow it was oddly fitting that the first pet she'd pick out was.. fucking psycho. And it was Van's, so that made sense too.
"Would you expect anything less from something I picked?" Smirking, she turned back to head into the living room again.
"Guess not," he answered and went back to the boxes in the kitchen.
It took them both a while to finish up their respective areas, packing was never an easy thing to do and Renée was glad Van had offered to help, because she probably wouldn't have asked anyone anyway. Since the kitchen and living room were both done, she instructed him to work on her room. She'd packed away her clothes, at least, so.. nothing like random bras would be found.
It didn't feel right for him to take care of Robin's things, and she quietly began to sort out his things and put them into boxes.
He had seen female undergarments before so even if Van had uncovered one of her bras, it was nothing alien to him.
Van had wondered how much time had passed when he had finished with Renée's room, because he had felt a bit tired. He found himself sitting on her bed, just thinking to himself and how he would have company again in his home.
It wouldn't be right to say she was replacing Ferdi's space. She wasn't but when he really thought about it, Van was definitely closer to Renée than he had been with Ferdi.
Both of them had lost younger brothers, but for entirely different reasons. Renée would never have killed Robin, Sigil or duty be damned. But even if she couldn't say she'd do the same in Van's position, she could say that she didn't judge him for it, which was.. weird. Family should never willingly be killed, and yet, she found herself bending her personal values to accept Van.
Robin's books, clothes, and school things were tucked away into boxes that she'd never see after today and in another, smaller box, she put pictures, his favorite shirt, things of more sentimental value that she would hold onto. And when she finally finished she stood at the doorway of his room, surveying the room with bare walls with a pervasive feeling of melancholy.
Before she could let herself dwell on it longer she got out, passing by Joelle's empty room on the way to hers.
"Moving said they'll be here in a few hours, they'll sort out storage and what I want to donate."
"They'll carry out the heavier things then," Van said and flopped down onto the bed. "Try not to take advantage of my home." He joked.
She took a seat beside him, before stretching and lying down herself.
"Too bad, your refrigerator's mine," she joked back. "And all of Sophie's cookies, too. You can have the grits."
Grits.
He hated grits so much now.
"Go ahead and get fat then." He snarked back.
"Then I'll bodyslam you and you'll be wishing you never said that." Renée didn't take any remarks about getting fat very seriously, she exercised on a regular basis and all her weight went to her boobs, anyway.
"Not if I threw you out a window," Van probably could do it much easier now with his powers.
"I'd drag you out with me. And then I'd land on top of you so you'd break my fall."
...
"Jesus Christ, what's wrong with you?" he muttered and inched away from her.
...
"You started it," she shot back sullenly, before laughing a little at how ridiculous the conversation was. Stifling a yawn, she added, "And like hell I'd get fat."
Renée resisted the urge to say, 'It's as likely as you growing taller than me.' He'd probably really throw her out a window, then.
"Our metabolisms are going to screw us all over some day." Van said bluntly. "You'll at least gain some weight."
"Yeah, but I won't be fat. Just... pleasantly plump or whatever."
Imagining Van as a short fat man was somehow hilarious, though.
Oh, he had definitely read her mind on that.
"Okay, let's not think that far ahead. We're just in our twenties."
"Alright, alright. Who knows what we'll be doing when we're older, anyway." It wasn't voiced that maybe they wouldn't make it through the year.
Van frowned, reflecting upon the war and the deaths of Madeleine, Jacques, Laertes, Jean, Ivonnicus, Robin and Quinn. He didn't have any intentions of dying, not when they had made it this far. Just to persevere a few months and find the remaining Sigils and keep everything in Order to open the Gates.
Just a little bit longer.
Except even Van hadn't pick up any signs of a Sigil in Paris.
She fell into silence when he didn't reply, pondering the same things he was at that very moment without realizing it.
"Something on your mind?"
"Not really," he answered and turned over to face her. "Did you see what Simone said about the show happening on the weekend? One of the Knights is going."
She nodded, not pressing the question any further.
"Yeah, I did. We'll have to go, too. But I don't think the new Soldiers could, their General might end up showing as well. They already know the rest of our faces so it doesn't matter if they see us or not."
"Exactly," Van smirked, thankful they were on the same track. "Plus it could be a good show." He added.
"Then we have nothing to lose." She smiled back, they needed to have the upper edge in this war.
"...You know," she started, turning over to look at the ceiling. "I didn't take the Order or this war that seriously in the beginning. It was money and training from my powers, the rest just seemed like bullshit."
"But now, there's no way that I'll let us lose," she finished quietly.
If he had known that from the start he probably would have smacked her but...
"I guess I can say the same, a bit. I was more interested for my own reasons, even if the ones who brought me in ended up kicking the shit out of me to show me my place then. But it was all worth it."
Had killing Ferdi been worth it? She supposed that only time would tell.
"Yeah. It's still weird to think we're the only original members left of our team."
Van shut his eyes and yawned.
"If we have too many regrets it'll just make it harder to move onwards."
She yawned too, it was weird how when one person yawned others followed.
"You're not allowed to go dying on me like the other Generals." Renée closed her eyes as well and turned over on her side, her back facing Van. She could feel the warmth from his body at her back, though, which was nice.
He leaned his head a little on her shoulder.
"You always say that and I always say I'm not going to. I'm still here, aren't I?"
"It never hurts to make sure," she murmured, lost in her own thoughts. Her father had broken their family, both her parents had died, her baby brother was gone, and now her sister was halfway across the world.
Independent or not.. being alone wasn't a good feeling.
Van had willingly separated himself from his family, yet still brought tragedy among them by killing Ferdi. If Lies ever found out, she would destroy him for sure.
But true, having someone around from time to time was pleasant.
"Like I told Jan, I'm not dying till I'm an old man. A really, old man."
She blinked drowsily, not finding much reassurance in his words-- because how could you prevent death from coming? But his voice was nice to listen to and just talking and sharing some time with someone who was in this war with her was calming.
"Well, good. You've grown on me, after all." Renée closed her eyes, ready to doze off.
"Just as planned," he joked, eyes still shut.
"Learning French for me helped," she joked back. "And the flowers."
Actually neither of those had really helped to win her over.
What a bitch.
"At least we have a mutual understanding now," he mumbled tiredly. Or whatever it was.
"Yeah... something like that," she responded sleepily.
She was a bitch, he was a dick. It all worked out.