Reunion Tour (Hall and Oates)

[Raffaele Spataro - Council]

Raffaele cried out in his sleep. Another fever dream seemed to be burning through him from the inside and as all the other times before in the last couple of weeks, he could not wake himself. It had been the same nightmare almost every day. He’d be walking through hell among the souls of the people he’d killed when his thirst for blood was all that controlled him. They screamed and cried out for a help that wouldn’t come as they begged him to stop while they were reliving their deaths by his very hand and he had to watch. 

There was so much blood. He begged for their forgiveness which was something he had no right to ask of them and they never gave it as their wailings rang throughout the nightmarish caverns of hell. Raffaele stumbled through the darkness completely drenched in blood. He could never outrun the dead as a booming voice rang through his head, always requesting one thing of him in order to gain some absolution; To find the god-killer. 

The terror always ended the same. Raffaele would come to a dead end, spinning around to face the mortals who he’d slain mercilessly. They would stand there silently in their hatred for him while someone masked moved through the crowd and lifted his sword, swinging to remove Raffaele’s head. 

The sanguine woke finally, seeing a few members of his staff around him with worried expressions. He was latched onto the arm of his cook and sprawled on the floor, completely tangled in his bedding. “Signore.” Raffale looked to the older man who smelled of fresh herbs and spoke softly as concern filled his tired eyes. “You must go to him.”

The hours passed until the sun had finally set and Raffaele mounted his horse. His chef, Vincenzo, gave him a reassuring smile for the journey that was ahead in which he would track down the last known whereabouts of his former comrade. This was something more easily said than done when it came to finding a Gypsy who was as flighty as the wind. Raffaele looked down towards the man who’d become almost like a father to him. His counsel was always a blessing he didn’t believe he deserved. The small staff of his manor did not know what he truly was except for Vincenzo who believed that Raffaele was not bound for hell and his soul would be saved. “God is on your side,” the older man said, making the sanguine scoff and shake his head with a smirk. “You doubt this?”

Raffaele didn’t immediately answer because it would only turn into a long discussion between the two. Instead, he only smiled to his mentor and then took the reins of his horse. “Why in the world do I have a chef?” Really the food the cook prepared everyday was given to his workers that lived on the grounds because it would never be able to fill Raffaele’s hunger, but none of them knew that. It was a question that was not meant to be answered as Vincenzo only smiled back at Raffaele before tapping the horse on the rear to trot off into the night.

[Vega]

"Aww, I love you!"

The whole pub looked his way as Vega seemed to yell at the air. "Those Damned Gyspsies" the fellow patron all complained. But Vega knew his friend had heard his teasing. Though his words were true. Oh if only Raffaelle knew what Jeovani had to do to get that blood. Toeing the line on what The Wind deemed as okay and this journey was just at the start. He plopped down at the table Raff was just sat and removed his hat with a burdend huff.  He zoned out for all but a second in silent but visible contemplation. If getting that one keg of blood was anything to judge how the rest of this adventure was to go he was going to need to break some Gypsy rules. 

It wouldn't be the first or last time. 

But he would keep this to himself. Because once others found out about this they tended to get in the way and stop him. And therein lies the problem. They lost focus on the main task at hand when trying to keep him on the ins with The Wind. Putting themselves at an even greater risk. He could live without The Wind. He had done it before. He could do it when he wanted. He would have to do it again. Right now. It didn't mean however that he didn't ask The Wind for grace. He always did. And that was why he never wanted anyone to intervene. Because in the end he and The Wind had come to the understanding that sometimes he had to do things others like him couldn't. 

And The Wind gave him that. 

So long as he returned. And sometimes The Wind would even help him in his endeavors. It wasn't a stranger to violence. And actually, The Wind wasn't at all pacifistic like it demanded its people to be. Vega just silently begged here and now while he was alone that The wind would be with him this time.

Because something told him he'd need it.

He rested his head on the table. He wasn't expecting Raffaelle to take very long as he knew he wouldn't from experience. But he still let his mind drift to the Gyspies of the mountains and not the sands. The Gyspsies led by Madam Nadiya his grandmother.  And not the ones led by Mama, Madam Serena his great aunt. This special gypsy blood ran in his veins mixed with that of a Valkyrie. And so, he wondered as he always did if that meant anything to The Wind. Not the Valkyrie lineage coursing through his veins of course. But being of Nadiya's blood. 

Even though he rested. Even though his mind was heavily adrift. He was entirely on high alert. He had to be at all times no matter where he was. He was sitting upright by the time Raff reemerged. "You're getting slower." he glanced down at his pocket watch and clicked his tongue. 

[Raffaele Spataro - Council]

Reunion Tour

w/ Vega

• The bloodlust had quieted his human soul and every last one of them deserved an agonizing death •

He drank more than he should've. The rush of the life source coursed through him like a tingling heat that spread from his feet to the tips of his fingers which he currently looked at as if he could visibly see his body changing beneath his skin. Raffaele's head lolled fully backwards, his eyes closing as he sat on the uncomfortable bed. The noise which had filled his head began to lull as he was able to control himself better now. It was just the normal background sounds which always were acute to him, though the hearts of the children just beyond the wall remained ever enticing.

The tip of his tongue rolled slowly over his lips and then curled at the corner of his mouth to take in the bit of blood that had sat there. There was nothing careful about the way he drank from the small barrel. He'd ripped the cork off and with it came splintered pieces of wood from the top before tipping it back and gulping needily, the contents within spreading passed his mouth and down his chin. Raffaele opened his eyes again and wiped his arm across his face to be rid of what occurred just moments before, sighing with the self hatred that always followed after.

Stowing the barrel under the bed, the sanguine made his way downstairs again to see Vega still at the table they'd been seated at before, taking the chair across from him. Raffaele glared at his friend's remark before a hint of a smirk formed. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," he shot back and sat, leaning forward on the table as it wobbled. "Did you miss me so terribly?" The humor then faded after a pause as his eyes showed conviction in his next words which were simple, but held a weight that conveyed his everlasting gratitude for Jeo always being there for him now and forever. "Thank you." 

Vega had witnessed what it was like for Raffaele to let the demon inside of him win out. Though the target of his frenzy had been on a bounty of men who didn't rightly deserve another breath in their murderous lives, it was hard to stop once he began. Their skin tore so easily under his fangs and the weapons they tried to use against him were fruitless. It was Jeovani who had to eventually stop him when their bodies lay motionless on the cave floor where they'd been hoarding their spoils, but Raffaele had passed the point of reasoning. The bloodlust had quieted his human soul and every last one of them deserved an agonizing death despite Vega attempting to stop him with words. It took an illusion and a blessed sword grazing Raffaele's throat to quiet the demon which had him pressing his brother against the cavern wall, ready to drain him too. It was not one of his proudest moments. 

Now, he noticed the glances of the people around the tavern. It was still mostly empty, but it only made their notable looks more obvious when eyeing Vega. Starting trouble was not something they wanted even when it seemed to come looking for them. A pang of guilt wracked him for forcing them to have to stop on their journey to a place that wasn't very keen on Gypsies. His eyes flashed at a pair of men who were staring which seemed to be enough for them to turn their heads and focus on the ale they clutched instead. "I see you've made friends already." Raffaele stood from the table then and nodded his head towards the door. "Perhaps it best we continue on to find our thaumaturge friend. You get the horses and I'll run upstairs for my... supply?" Gaze moving over the men who were still gawking in small intervals, he gave a mischievous grin to his friend. "Try not to get into any trouble in the minute I'm gone?"

[Vega]

"Trouble never seems to leave me alone." 

Raf was already gone by the time Vega gently muttered these words under his breath. Whipping his facial hair which seemed to catch some of the last of his drink. His eyes took two seconds to adjust to the bright sun as he stepped outside. But it wasn't anything he wasn't too used to coming from a land like Nowhere. A soft sight clicked past his teeth as he made his way to their horses. Ignoring the men who insisted on following him out. "Go back to your drinks men." he gave a stern look over his shoulder as he continues to lose his horse's bridal from the post it was wrapped to. 

His fist tightens around the leather lead in his grip as the sound of the men approaches. The strain of the leather can be heard below their footfalls. 

Dust. 

Vega's horse bucks wildly. Trotting back and forth in front of the tavern. Refusing to stop its violent dance. Kicking up a small dust storm each time its hooves slam into the ground. The was a commotion but now it was all just eerie and fearful silence as the horse continues. At least the horse settle and the dust settles with the setting sun. Revealing Vega on his horse the whole time and a man tied to the back of his saddle by one leg. He cuts the man free and his limp body sinks to the ground. Jeovani needs a moment to catch his breath. As his tight grip on his horse's lead loosens. 

And so, the more the dust settles the more bodies it reveals. It wasn't a pretty site and The Windwaker seemed... Colder than usual.  But once he caught his breath and climbed off his horse his ridged demeanor changed. Melted away to show he was still the sensitive man Raffaelle knew. And not the Viking he never really met... Not anymore. 

"I... Told them to leave me alone!"

He dropped his head. Quickly trying to check their pulses. "Why couldn't you just leave me alone!? Why is being a Gypsy so bad!?" he snarled down at one man that was still barely conscious. 

[Raffaele Spataro - Council]

reunion tour

w/ Jeovani De la vega

• Though family not by blood, I would shed every drop for you, my chosen brother. •

Raffaele glanced to his friend once more before disappearing up the stairs towards the room. A door opened and he knew before they even emerged, the family he noted with children came from within. He nearly halted in his steps at their appearance. The lump that formed in his throat was like fire when he observed the young boy and girl, the monstrous thoughts he had not long ago of what he would do to stave his thirst still lingering at the forefront of his mind. The monster within him now idly waiting.

The small ones, damn them, smiled as they ran passed. The parents nodding in friendly greeting. He returned the gesture, but when their footfalls hit the stairs at his back, his eyes closed in his self loathing as he reached for the knob of his room. He swallowed the guilt and crossed the creaking planks, pulling the small barrel from the darkness under the bed. The sanguine sighed in habit from a human life long ago and pointedly cast his feelings aside. It would do neither him nor Jeo any favors if he were sulking the entirety of their already damning journey.

He made for the door, when a soft thudding made his ears perk. His extraordinary hearing pulled him away and towards the window where he saw a dust cloud begin to rise and waft where he stood. Even for being a sanguine, he couldn't make out what was exactly happening within, but he did hear the short cries of the men who were caught inside. "Shit..."

Raffaele couldn't move fast enough. Well, he could, but it would draw the looks of the humans still in the tavern and the point was to not draw attention to themselves as impossible as that seemed an idea given who and what they were. He glanced around and it was obvious they had heard the commotion outside as well. Hurrying, he pushed passed the people starting to spill outside.

The dust began to settle and he instantly noted the men who were now sprawled out on the ground, unmoving. Jeovani was crouched over one, a desperate and angry plea for understanding coming from him. Raffaele could guess as to what caused this, but they needed to move. He knelt down and gripped his friend on both shoulders and pulled him back. "Come on," he ordered lowly, but his friend held to the man's shirt who was sputtering a cough in his barely conscious state. Raff draped an arm over his brother's shoulder and across his chest to yank harder, drawing more from his sanguine strength this time that would be enough to break the hold. "Come. We have to go, Jeo."

Once they were both on their feet, Raffaele patted the nose of Jeo's horse in some manner to stay calm, before quickly grabbing his supply and going over to his own horse to take the bridle. He mounted the animal as the townspeople were beginning to switch from confusion and shock to anger and motivation. "Vega..." His voice edged with command and perhaps even a little of his own ability to persuade others to do as he willed. But, that was not something he could ever do to Jeovani. 

He nudged his horse forward in an effort to make his companion move, leading away from this town and the trouble they apparently couldn't keep from. They had to find the thaumaturge, then likely the sirens which dropped Rodric to the bottom of the sea. And he knew many towns like this would be between them and their cursed quest.

[Vega]

Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind. The downfall of man. The reason for Vega's complex relationship with the wind. With the world. With himself. The very undoing of an otherwise wise young man. He was supposed to be the sound one. The one to calm the demon lurking at the back of Raffaele's throat. The one to grab the sanguine by the scruff when his urges get the better of his mind. Yet, life wasn't ever that cut and dry. They both had demons. Shared. Independent. Vega's blood still boiled beneath his skin. The pain he wrought on those men wasn't enough to sate his anger. His fists clenched and the sound of his leather gloves creaked at the strain. He breathed deep. Trying as he may to re-light the lamp of his mind. The flame faintly flickering in and out as he cooled off. When he realized the lack of a breeze. No wind for the wicked. He hadn't lost it. No, this was too subtle.

He was plainly just out of sorts as of now. With the wind. With himself. He knew he'd be no help to his brother if he didn't sort this out. A feat much easier said than done. In fact, he heard his brother's words. Felt the gravity of his tone. The inkling of his coaxing seeped in through the vexatious fog which still d his mind. Causing the stubborn Gypsy to shoot a sharp and audible breath from nose and wave Raffaele's words off. Too incandescent. The lamp is his mind still unlit. He rode his steeds with a ridge mien. The cool air as the sun eventually set did nothing to cool him.

The silence between brothers was deafening. The only sounds: their horses trots. The sloshing of the blood in the small barrel attached to Raffaele's saddle. An occasional huff or two from them or their horses. A chortling owl just out of view. That lamp of Vega's mind had just grown dim. And his rage to simmer away when his horse stopped. It was dark. Darker than it should've been. Cold. Not in the natural sense. When Raffaele's horse halted too Vega knew. Something wasn't right. The air was thick with a haunting electric feeling. It made even Vega shiver. “Raf.” Is all he could get out when realizing the horses stopped on their own. The road too dark to see. The world too frightful for an animal's instincts to run. Vega's horse, Apple began to neigh and stop his feet in early warnings of danger being near. But where? 

Oh, the lamp of Jeovani's mind was on now. They'd be doomed if it weren't and he just simmered in his ire. While darkness grew. Jeo soothed his horse as it nervously moved closer to Raffaele's for comfort in its panic. The wind kissing Jeo's skin the only thing helping him keep calm. “We need to get off this road. Inside. Preferably.” He says so low only Raf with his impeccable hearing could pick up. And then a light in the distance slowly broke through the dark. Flickering and yellow. Low and warm. The wind blew. A warning to be sure. But where else could they go? Their only solace was being together again and knowing whatever building the glow grew from they could tackle jointly. Yet Jeo stilled. His red flags rose high. Apple refuses to move along with Raffaele's horse. 

But where

else could they go when the dark met the road?