Posted: Tue Dec 28, 2021 5:35 am Post subject: Godric
If people were like houses, Navrik was the house he lived in. Self made but made entirely for the love of his family. The porch that wrapped around the whole house, were the arms that embraced his children. The roof had a curated slope, that was reminiscent of the way Navrik’s arm rested at Havania’s waist.
If people were like houses, Godric supposed he was right at home in his new apartment. The ad read, railroad style studio apartment, near time square. Very little square footage but has a lot of love to give. It looked like, a closet that was cut in half to make an apartment. It had a mini fridge and a loft bed, the windows were painted shut, but Navrik gifted Godric a French press; so it was perfect.
Godric was certain that Havania would sooner burn the building down than let him move in, but the tattoo shop was getting busy and he was doing more shows in the city; he needed an apartment. He snatched this one up and signed the lease before Havania could see it. Today would be her first time seeing it, Godric had invited her to come and help him get settled. Which, Godric wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else.
The windows didn’t open, so Godric had the door open and the overhead fan going to try and air out the space. He had already made sure to clean, dusting and washing the walls even. But there still felt like there was a lot to do.
Godric stood in the middle of…well everything, with his hands on his hips. He observed the room with a careful eye, deciding where he needed to focus next.
“I don’t have bed sheets..”He pondered aloud, eyes landing on his new loft bed. It was…Quite the downgrade from his queen, but Godric was a man of simple needs.
Havania was no stranger to saying “goodbye” to her babies as they moved out and started lives of their own, however, there was something especially bittersweet about sending Godric off.
A bittersweetness that had quickly soured further when she saw the apartment he would be taking up.
Havania’s brow was anxiously furrowed as she looked up at the rundown building that Godric was moving to. She was holding a large box that dwarfed her, clutching tighter with worry as she noted the half-dead shrubbery out front (maybe it had been a thriving rosemary bush in another life) and the chipping paint clearly covering grafitti on the building walls.
Inside the box were brand-new picture frames and stacks of photos to go through, something she had done with each of her kids when they moved out and got their own places, as well as a little toolkit her husband had put together to leave with Godric for little fix-it projects, although Havania wondered now if he should have just come with his own tools to do bigger maintenances. There was also a vase that she hoped to fill with flowers from the shop Salomao worked at, one that had seen the beginnings of each of Godric’s siblings lives in the city when they all got their first apartments.
But all of that seemed so trivial when she worried about the state of her son’s apartment.
She began inside, heading up to the apartment. Admittedly, the inside wasn’t nearly as worn down as the outside, which granted Havania some relief. The hallways were clean, it smelled like even a fresh coat of paint had been laid down recently, and the few doors that lined them all had mismatched doors. She continued down the hallway until she found a door cracked open and upon poking her head in, she found Godric standing among all his things.
She managed to rap a knuckle at the doorframe. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“Mama!” Godric exclaimed with a grin. He widened the opening in the door for his mom before taking the box from her arms, only to shelve it on the nearby “kitchen counter.” He brushed his hands off on his shirt before dropping an arm around his mothers shoulders, waving his other arm to gesture about the space.
“Well, what do you think? I know it’s a fixer upper but I think some curtains and a plant, you’d think it was a 5 star hotel room.” Godric grinned, cheekily. He was teasing of course, he knew it was horrible, but he had to play about it.
Godric was always the trouble maker. He didn’t like being told what to do (still doesn’t), and he loved to push boundaries. But he made up for it in a lot of ways; he was a sensitive and affectionate; a mama’s boy.
"Oh...well it's a good starter apartment." Havania conceded, not wanting to have a proper Mama Fit. She reached up to rub her hand at Godric's back, offering a smile up to him. "I'll take you shopping later, we'll get you some curtains, maybe a new mattress. You know what Dad always says about a good bed." She said upon seeing the well worked mattress. She stretched up to give Godric a kiss on the cheek before pulling away and gesturing to the box she'd brought with her. "I brought frames and photos for you. Dad also put together a tool kit for you so you can do little repairs whenever. If you want, we can both come into the city next weekend and he can do any repairs you can't then."
Havania and Navrik, despite their own upbringings were extremely doting parents. They had always made sure none of their children were left wanting, regarding emotional and material needs. Even though everyone was grown, Havania and Navrik still made sure that they had a strong support system and often did "the most" for their children. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“I’ve got gigs all weekend, the more we can get done this trip the better.” Godric said but he was smiling, optimistic. “I already made you a key though, you are allowed to be here when I’m not, just clean up after yourself.” Godric added with a cheeky grin before moving over to the box of frames and filling through them with care.
"As if I haven't been the one cleaning up after you your whole life." Havania joked. "I want to at least get some photos put up and most of your things put away while I'm here. Do you need anything for the apartment? Did you buy any pots and pans yet? Or, well, maybe a pot and a pan." She corrected upon looking at Godric's "kitchen" situation. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
"It better not have been one of my copper bottom pots. Those were a wedding gift from your uncle Nevandre." Havania clucked her tongue. "We'll take a trip to the store then, get you that rice cooker and some other things to help make this place more comfortable. We'll have to remember to take photos and measurements for dad then." She added about the cabinets. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“I would never, it’s that rusty one that has the burnt onions on the bottom of it.” Godric said, procuring said pot from a dilapidated cardboard box, that was leaning against his mini fridge. “I don’t have a tape measurer, we’ll have to get one of those too while we’re out.” He said.
"Mm, that's more of a Dad pot than a my pot." Havania said with a nod. Her husband was famously bad at cooking, which was fine. After all, he was plenty good at other things around the house. "Let's start with some unpacking and then I'll take you out. What can I do to help?" Havania was already making her way over to some boxes, reading haphazard letters explaining the contents. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“That’s why I figured you wouldn’t miss it.” Godric chuckled, sliding the pot onto the counter. He turned and placed a thoughtful hand on his chin, thinking hard as he observed the small “room.”
“Maybe we should go through pictures first. I have a few of my own, we can look together and start hanging them up?” Godric suggested.
Godric was now more or less settled in the city. He would of course never complain about his tiny railroad style apartment. But he had missed his queen bed sorely, a queen mattress wouldn’t fit in his apartment unless you were to fold it in half. Among other things, he missed his mothers cooking, he hadn’t realized he only ate as well as he did because of his sweet mother. Now, he had to find new comforts in his loft twin, wrapped up snug in takeout menus near a whirring radiator. That being said, he was finding normalcy; establishing his train route, being at the tattoo shop more as well as playing more music. The things that were important had stayed the same, even his friendship with Mihai, who living this close a few years ago would’ve made a lot of trouble.
After their final breakup, the for real final; things were tense no doubt. Mihai had gone to the shop early to avoid Godric, and Godric came late for the same reason. When they did run into each other, the interaction violently swayed from staring awkwardly or looking hard the other direction. But eventually, over a long period of time, they would slip into casual conversation. It ended up being for the best, and neither had to worry about the other talking them back into a romance. Godric was glad they could still be friends, and only that. He hadn’t even invited Mihai to see the apartment, only Godrics family had. Not that it was really a space for hosting.
Still, maybe the right person, he would bring someone home to snuggle up in his loft bed.
It was a normal enough work week, Godric had just finished a big tattoo and was doing some tidying up at his station. There was some kind of ruckus going on in the building next door, what was going on Godric couldn’t say for sure. But, Holly Blue, a fellow artist and band mate, didn’t look up from the tattoo she was doing to acknowledge the ruckus. So Godric assumed it was normal, maybe rigorous performance art? Godric couldn’t be sure what city people got up to.
Raum Maniac was never the type to admit he was wrong, which was almost certainly the result of his mother treating he and his sister like God's gifts to earth, but in this moment he was very much willing to admit that he should have had taken his sister's offer to come with him on this job.
It was supposed to be a simple enough job, take down a rowdy minotaur who had lured dozens of unsuspecting New Yorkers into his doomed maze under the ruse of cheap rentals in a rundown building glamored to look like newly refurbished apartments, but it was turning out to be trickier than he thought.
First, as it turns out, he had a terrible sense of direction (not that he would admit any faults). He had lost and rediscovered the minotaur at least seven times, getting turned around in long hallways and empty rooms. He had also been lost and rediscovered by the minotaur a handful of times, which was fairing to be a nuisance.
Second, his father had told him to pack a variety of weaponry for the job, after all, they had a whole arsenal to pick from as generational hunters, but he very much preferred the broad sword Uncle Jack had gotten him for his seventh birthday. It was probably mostly for show, something cool and flashy to hang up in the armory or even his room, but it was functional and it certainly appealed to Raum as his weapon of choice throughout the years despite being well trained in other means of killing and hunting that were perhaps more reasonable.
Third, he was alone and had lost his only means of contacting help at some point during all the scraping and evading. He was sure it slipped out of his pocket in the building somewhere, so his chances of recovering it were slim to none. Not only was he unable to call his dad for back up, he'd definitely be getting an earful from both of his parents since he'd lost another phone in the Hudson after getting thrown into the waters mid fight with a warlock and his hell hounds a month earlier.
But at the end of the day he would never admit that these were mistakes on his part, but rather all a part of his very capable plan to take down the minotaur.
He would also never admit that he had spent the last several minutes taking refuge under a bed that was probably glamored to look more luxurious than it was in reality.
The sound of hooves stomping up and down the hallway sounded distant, maybe upstairs even, but Raum knew that with glamor magic like this, that didn't matter. For all he knew, the Minotaur was pacing circles around the room, trapping him inside until he came out. Or maybe he'd gotten bored and was truly somewhere else, abandoning the hunt out of annoyance or maybe even boredom.
God, he hoped that wasn't the case. That would be embarrassing and his cousin Lazlo would never let him live that down.
After several beats, he decided to roll out from under the bed to hopefully get the jump on the minotaur. He crept over to the door and after listening closely for a moment more, he eased the door open and peaked out. After glancing both ways, noting no minotaur, he let out a sigh of relief...
BOOM!
He looked above him just in time to see the ceiling above him giving way to an angry half-man half-minotaur beast's fists. It was an ugly thing, empty eyes full of red, burst veins; gnarled teeth and tusks where there shouldn't be any with a yellow foam frothing over cracked lips. But for all it's ugliness, it was a perfect killing machine and it had it's sights set on him.
"Ah shit." He grumbled and sighed as he dropped down on top of him.
He barely managed to avoid being crushed, but didn't even have the chance to get out the door in his attempt to evade the beast before it gripped a meaty hand at the back of his neck. It managed to pluck Raum off his feet before hurling him into, and through, the opposite wall, landing him into a completely different building. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
There was a loud crash; the wall of his shop had a man blasted through. There was dust and debris, Holly Blue was yelling something and her client was shouting as well. There was a ringing in Godrics ears from the crash, and he was coughing as he fanned away the dust.
As the smoke settled, he could see a perfect man, rolled at his feet. He appeared slender in frame, he could see that he had dark hair though the dust had peppered it grey. Godric fumbled forward, almost in awe as he bent down to assess the man.
“Hello? Are you alive?” He asked, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder to turn him over carefully.
It was a hot debate on who the pretties Methevas-Castillo kid was, but Godric himself was quite pretty. His hair was a fluffy mess of chocolate curls, and his sleepy amber eyes were purely a thing of dreams. Sleepy and upturned sympathetically, and his eyelashes were so curly that sometimes they would get tangled together. For all his soft features from his mothers side, he did adopt his father’s defined cheekbones as well as a long nose that would’ve been flat had he not broken it several times.
But a pretty as Godric was, he couldn’t prepare himself for the gorgeous man he turned over.
Raum was dizzied enough by the impact of flying through the wall that he hardly even registered that someone had placed their hands on him until he was rolled over and found himself looking up at another young man smudged white with wall debris. He blinked and shook his head, as if recalibrating himself, before promptly sitting upright. He swiveled his head to look towards the hole he’d created with his body, bricks and insulation still crumbling. Though he couldn’t see the minotaur through the yet to settle dust, he could hear its wet breath and its approaching hooves.
“You all might want to clear out.” He said to the other man as he undid the strap across his chest to release his broadsword on his back, all the while his eyes remained on the remains of the opposite wall.
Raum hopped to his feet in a swift motion and began removing his shirt in an even swifter fashion. He wadded it up and dropped it beside his feet working to kick off his shoes before moving to unbutton his pants.
While everyone in his immediate family was a werewolf, including his hunter father and sister, he was the only one who typically used his “curse” to his advantage. He thought it was impractical NOT to use it, but his father argued that it was more impractical to tear through all of his clothes with constant shifting in the middle of a fight. While Raum didn’t totally agree, he conceded on meeting in the middle and often stripped before getting into the heavy throes of battle.
As he was doing now. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
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