#thanks to antimony medusa for the suggestion of incomprehensible slang

[nomsfaultau]

The Blood God and His Fledgling

An AU wherein Techno is a depressed ancient vampire and thinks Tommy is the reincarnation of Theseus. The first one is here. 

Part 2-The Bus Stop

The Blood God hadn’t left his room in centuries. The wolves were in a frenzy, instincts registering a predator-master-god in a way they couldn’t comprehend. The raucous noise approached a howl and- no, that wouldn’t do at all. That would register as danger to the mind of a prey animal like the human boy. But his complete mastery over his thralls made it a non issue. Dozens of blood-red eyes lit up in the darkened husk of his home, and silently the wolves streamed out into the overgrown wilderness of the manor grounds.

Only one monster remained. The Blood God hesitated at the threshold, suddenly forced to reckon with the beast he’d become. Would Theseus be horrified to see him? He truly didn’t know if this boy, this splitting image of his friend, actually was some sort of reincarnation, or revival, or miracle. And if he flinched, The Blood God might never learn. With a snarl of frustration, he realized his eagerness might just drive his once chance of happiness away.

He didn’t know how to be human anymore. It hadn’t mattered, before. It was easier to abandon the false mask, to sink into the beastial nature of his shapeshifting. 

The Blood God clenched his hand, forcing the stubborn claws to recede onto something tame. Next the tusks, fangs shrinking in his boarish snout. With no reflection to guide him, he clasped his face, touch his only guide as he tried to mold himself into the dull blur of mortal features. It was a face none on earth could remember, including The Blood God himself.

It was the face Theseus had loved. The Blood God had concerned himself so much with still being human, then. Ever so scared of being the monster. And Theseus was the only one who hadn’t cared, who saw him as a man.

He couldn’t remember why it seemed so important, now.  

The gnarled bloody bat wings sprawled uselessly, a permanent stain no matter how he tried to rip them from his form. At best he could fold them and sternly coerce the leathery patagium to mimic the drapings of a cloak, his bone white scruff merging into the guise of a mantel. It would have to suffice to conceal the inhuman nature of the rest of him, patience wearing thin. Perhaps it would be enough. Please let it be enough. Please let his friend remember him. The Blood God threw open the door-

-and realized it was midday. 

His snarl echoed like thunder, rumbling in the clouds overhead. They darkened with his frustration, nimbus whipped into a spiral of vicious winds slowly spilling out on the earth below. Theseus’ head jerked up at the first crack of thunder, vamperic hearing barely catching his distant groan. As the heavens split into a torrential downpour, he retreated under the awning of the bench, knees folded to his chest so his boots wouldn’t get soaked. 

The world surrounding was foreign, rivers of black and gleaming horseless carriages and blossoming sky shields protecting mortals from the downpours. He floundered momentarily in the dauntingly unrecognizable civilization. It mattered little before, aloft and indifferent as he watched humanity from above. But once suddenly necessary to navigate, he was far less certain. 

He latched immediately on the one island of familiarity in the sea of incomprehensible human machinations. In a blink, The Blood God stood at Theseus’ side. The awning was made of a strange not-fabric that deterred water, but was threadbare and pockmarked. And with the wild gusts of wind picking up with his heady excitement, the mortal was utterly drenched, lip and body curled in protest against his condition. 

It was Theseus. It's all he could think, so close. The Blood God soaked in his image, as perfect as the day he died. Theseus down to the way his cobalt eyes crinkled when he scowled, the slight deflection of his dark thick eyebrows betraying the vehemence he was trying to project with an undercurrent of shameful crestfallen truth. The soft duo nicks of scars across a square jaw, every part of him right down to the stray freckles on his skin. 

The hero breathed once more. 

Theseus didn’t notice him, obliviously sullen, until a crack of lightning had his gaze flicker to the heavens. On a double take his eyes widened upon The Blood God, scrambling back with a yelp of ‘BWAH!’

The Blood God flinched. 

“JESUS MAN DON'T SNEAK UP ON A BLOKE LIKE THAT!” he squawked incomprehensibly. Theseus let out a breath, scooping up drenched hair from where it’d flattened into his eyes to look at him. Not fear. No not fear, and the tension freezing the vampire eased in a slump. Only startled, and…annoyed. He didn’t recognize The Blood God even slightly, the fact immediately blatant and agonizing. Another glance to size him up, and Theseus pointedly pinned his eyes on a nearby post to avoid the awkwardness of staring at a stranger. 

It wasn’t fair to the child before him, the swelling betrayal choking him. Abandoned for a second time then, and he knew it wasn’t Theseus’ fault, could never have been, but it didn’t ease the fact his friend left him alone for thousands of years when he died. But Theseus was a hero. And heroes were destined for tragedy. And so the wound in his chest speared entirely through to lodge in The Blood God’s, too, and unlike the human he was not offered the relief of death from a mortal blow. 

A reincarnation, then. But why now? Had- had his friend being reincarnating over and over for the sake of reuniting, and he’d been sunk too deep in his grief to even notice? Or had he gone more than blood-mad? The splitting image of Theseus perhaps, but that meant nothing if the similarities were only skin deep. Yet attempting to reign in his long doused hope might have been pointless, soul soothed merely by soaking in the image before him. 

Theseus’ gaze flickered to him through periphery, but each time their gaze locked together it jolted away as if caught red-handed. He hunched into himself defensively, though that might’ve been to ward off the chill of the weather. The Blood God used to summon storms to tease him, the image of the hero laughing while drenched plastered into his mind. But now Theseus only looked miserable, like a little sopping wet raccoon. 

The Blood God’s wing stretched out to shelter him from the rain before he remembered it was meant to be a cloak. Belatedly he reached as if his hand held it in place. Theseus blinked, then looked up at him. It took a second to cough up a grateful grin in the midst of his stormy mood. “Oh, uh- thanks. You also forget an umbrella?” Theseus offered awkwardly. The Blood God froze, suddenly sharply aware he’d lost track of human tongue. Perhaps he could rely on a jumble of conversations he’d heard from passing conversations below? But- oh, Theseus was giving him an odd look for the hesitation. Too accustomed to introspection, The Blood God feared the breakneck pace of mortal lifespan was foreign to him now. “Talkative, arntcha slenderman? What’s your insta? …twitter?” The Blood God…couldn’t understand him. Theseus squinted at him. “Huh, coulda sworn by the silver mop,” he gestured vaguely at the wild tangle of The Blood God’s hair, “and everything you were a cosplayer? For some rizzless edgelord anime? Eh- no offense, since the cloak was definitely a W ‘cause of storm. Has to be drip given we’re both drenched!” Uncertain what was even being said, he cautiously shook his head. Certainly as chatty as Theseus, immediately brightening once he had someone to talk to. Perhaps that was just being sheltered from the rain, however. At least he seemed to catch The Blood God’s lost expression. “Boomer, then. What’s your name?” 

That at least was intelligible. “τέχνα.” He hadn’t used the name in millennium. That name -that man- had died with Theseus. But perhaps it could be reborn alongside him.  

“Techno? That’s a funny name.” It rolled strangely on his tongue, made unfamiliar in a way that hurt. To no avail, The Blood God tried to correct him. But maybe it couldn’t sound the same, no warm love shaping every syllable. He swallowed the distance bitterly. “Techno! Sick. That a nickname, is it?” 

“...’Tis not Nicholas, nay.” The Blood God was quite pleased with having deduced what a nickname was, and even more so with hearing Theseus laugh. 

“You must be a riot at parties.” Violence? Upon who? Whoever it was would be slaughtered if Theseus willed it. “Halloween ones, prolly. I’m Tommy.”

The Blood God jolted. “Are you certain?”

His nose crinkled up in bafflement the same way as Theseus. “Uh. Well, Thomas if I’m in trouble, but that’s just for my mum innit?” In these unenlightened days, he supposed children might not be named Theseus anymore. Tommy. He rolled the name around in his mouth, and then discarded it. 

“Was it fate that drew you here?” Why now? Why not centuries sooner? 

Theseus scowled. “Waiting for my friend to show up.”

“So am I.”

Brightening at their commissary, Theseus butted his arm with an elbow. “We can wait together then.” Yes. They had to. Eternity, if this really was Theseus. But reminded by his misfortune, Theseus darkened slightly. He swiped his nose angrily to get rid of the water dripping down it. “Mine was meant to show ages ago. Rotten useless ditcher. AND my phone died hours ago, so I dunno if he texted me about it before ghosting.” He gestured with a piece of black glass clutched protectively in his hands. “Maybe he cancelled or something, dunno. Might’ve checked the weather forecast, unlike me.” 

He understood at least one word in the plaintive cry! “The weather is a capricious god, tied to its whims and falling carelessly to dash mortal plans,” The Blood God lied awkwardly to cover up part of the Theseus’ misery was his own fault. He was pleased to discover he laughed the same as Theseus, too. He found he wanted to replay the sound over, and over. 

The chuckle trickled into a sigh. “I’ve been skipping buses out of- well, spite by now. But the last one dipped right before the storm.” What was a bus?? “Guess I’m stuck out here,” he grumbled glumly. 

Opportunities multiply as they were seized. “I offer my home as an aegis from the storm.” Theseus blinked, then seemed to catch what he meant. Hah, so the language barrier went both ways! 

“You’re not gonna kidnap me, are you?” Theseus joked. Like many words he wielded, The Blood God made little sense of ‘kidnapping’, but laughed along anyway. It seemed to ease the slight tension to his shoulders. “It’s prolly too far lol.” Another slight widening of his eyes as The Blood God gestured to the manor, and then a double take at the structure nestled between tall modern buildings. “Why am I surprised you own a castle? But really, I can handle a little rain, no skin off my nose…” it became an utter downpour at once, Theseus squeezing his eyes shut as the gales slammed into him. Making a disgruntled expression, he rose, water pooling at his feet. “...or not! Lead on then, Hannibal. You can’t be worse than drowning.” 

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