ℓεт үσυя мεмσяιεs gяσω sтяσηgεя αη∂ sтяσηgεя - Stri & Socks

Nico shuddered, moving away from Myrnin’s touch. Everything crashed into him all at once again and he knew his answer. He had been selfish in the past, and he’d tried for years to undo what he had done. There was no undoing it now and all he wanted was peace. If he couldn’t change the way people saw him, why would he keep trying? And Myrnin was offering him what he wanted most in the world: to forget Tartarus, to not feel the pain he felt every day, the fear… he lifted his gaze to meet Myrnin’s, uncertain about his decision. There was a way to do it halfway, but Nico knew he didn’t want that. He had never been one for compromise, after all. Halfway would just make him either want all of the memories, or wish all of them gone.
How badly could this impact his world? Nico knew the truth. If he didn’t remember Tartarus, he may not be as hard-pressed to save Percy and Annabeth from it. And he had promised. But hadn’t Percy broken a promise once? It wasn’t like Nico would break his intentionally, but if that was a side effect of him not remembering… well, he deserved to make his own choice here, didn’t he? And he wasn’t the only one that could save them, right? Guilt burned in his chest, but as did the exhaustion and pain and fear that had been his perpetual companion since he’d first ended up in Tartarus. If he didn’t remember, he’d be more useful to everyone. There would still be traumatic memories, he knew that. He had been broken enough before Tartarus, but he could deal with that. He knew he could, he had done it for years, and if he didn’t have Tartarus memories holding him back, he could connect with people again. Hopefully. He had played a useful role in both camps, and he hadn’t appreciated the opportunities that had given him enough. He knew he wouldn’t realize it without his memories either, but… they hurt. And Nico was ready to stop hurting, consequences be damned.
“Take them,” he whispered, eyes fixed on Myrnin’s. He didn’t notice the lightening of the vampire’s eyes. “Take them all, please.” How long had it been since he had slept through the night? Since he had been willing to accept a hug from a friend without a moment of trepidation beforehand? Since he had felt truly alive and normal and like he could make it through the next day? How long had it been since fighting monsters had become terrifying, no matter how second nature it was? He was no use to his world like that. He was no use to his friends or anyone he might be interested in dating… that wasn’t the primary focus, but it was a factor Nico had to consider.
He thought he had been broken by Bianca’s death. No. No, he’d been broken, but he hadn’t been shattered. And now he was. A frame of a human being trying to pick up the pieces, and here was someone offering not only to pick up the pieces, but to make sure the breaking never happened. To heal the cracks instead of just gluing them shut. As selfish and self-serving as it was, Nico wasn’t going to question himself anymore. “Please,” he repeated, as though Myrnin were about to revoke his offer just like that, and Nico would be left scrambling to put together what little hope Myrnin had just given him for a normal, somewhat happy life. He didn’t stop to consider what he could lose. He didn’t consider that the reason he trusted Myrnin so deeply was because of how careful the vampire had been towards him because of what he’d become after Tartarus. He didn’t consider that without those memories there was no foundation on which his trust had been built, only the knowledge that it had. He didn’t stop to consider what may not make sense. And he certainly didn’t stop to consider that Myrnin himself might be affected. Because why would he offer if it would hurt him? The thought didn’t even cross Nico’s mind. Maybe it should have.
“I’m ready to forget it. I want to move on.”

If Nico had been more aware of what was actually happening, he may have pushed Myrnin off and shouted that no, no, never mind, he wanted his memories exactly as they were, however painful it was to keep them. If he had been watching Myrnin’s face as carefully as he should have been. If he knew exactly what he was losing. But all he felt was the distinct impression of pain melting away, fading into the background, his mind scrabbling to find something that wasn’t there, and gliding away instead. And then it was like something pulling and stretching at the same time, and Nico couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember what he couldn’t remember, and it was like he could breathe again. Except he didn’t quite realize that, because for him it was like he’d always been able to breathe. He couldn’t remember what it was like to struggle through every day, he was just distantly aware that things had been hard. Why? He didn’t know.
And then Myrnin opened his eyes and Nico had the distinct impression that he was supposed to feel something about the color of them, but the thing was… he didn’t. The disinterested look that Myrnin cast in Nico’s direction wasn’t exactly troubling, it was just sort of a statement of fact. Because Nico knew, logically, that he and Myrnin were friends. He remembered living Myrnin’s life, but the circumstances had changed. It was like it was out of nowhere, like he and Myrnin had only talked a few times, bonding over small, insignificant things, and then they’d been forced to share lives, and Nico didn’t understand why that should’ve made such a big difference. Myrnin was a friend, he supposed, but not the likes of Rae or Noctin, or the others who had been there from the beginning.
His feelings towards Myrnin had changed, without a doubt. There was no longer that string tying him to the vampire, who had saved him from himself when he’d needed it most. Who had proven that there was still a reason to keep fighting, that the doubts echoing throughout his head, the feelings of inhumanity that filled him… that they were wrong. But Nico didn’t feel that anymore. He still felt the outsider, of course, but not in the same way he had when he met Myrnin. And though he knew that the golden-eyed vampire wasn’t the same as the friendly green-eyed one, he didn’t feel that he was close enough with Myrnin to be able to change much. Or to even deserve a right to care. After all, he didn’t really know that this was his fault. He remembered Sam biting him, and he remembered Myrnin blinking in and helping him, briefly, easing the pain, and he remembered Myrnin’s eyes opening to that golden color.
Nico made his way over to Sam, as cautious as possibly could be. Even though he didn’t think he had any business, he still was aware that anyone, especially a vampire, with that level of disinterest was dangerous. It meant that if they got hungry, they wouldn’t care whose life they took. Not like Sam, who had stopped. Nico remembered being angry, remembered not quite being able to breathe, but it was like it had all melted away. He was still upset, of course, because being bitten was unpleasant, but his thoughts were clear about it. The two of them could work through it. After all, they both needed friends, and as hard as it may be, Nico wasn’t going to let one mistake get in the way of that. Although he might just be a little more wary of Sam in the future.
“We might want to find a way out of here,” Nico murmured, hand shaking slightly as he threaded it through Sam’s. The first indication that something was very, very different from only a few minutes ago. “I don’t know what he might do, and right now he doesn’t seem very interested in us.” He felt bad about just leaving Myrnin there, but it wasn’t like either of them were capable of fighting him, Nico still weakened from blood loss and Sam still not up to full strength. But if they unleashed a dangerous Myrnin on Sam’s world…
“Is this a thing that happens with vampires? I mean, all of them, or is this specific to him?” Nico didn’t know why he expected Sam to know, but to be fair, he was the only other vampire in the room. Nico wasn’t sure what to do, in all honesty. He wanted to help his friend, but what right did he have to try to bring Myrnin back to himself? What right did he have to try to meddle with anyone else’s lives? How did he know that whatever had brought this on wasn’t a conscious decision?
“I think it might be best to get to the living room and try to figure it out from there…” Nico didn’t actually know if that was the right course of action, but he had to hope. Because he didn’t exactly fancy the idea of being killed right this minute. He had to get back to his world to prevent Gaia rising… after that he could worry about whatever nonsense was going on in the House. After that he might be able to try to find a way to bring Myrnin back to normal if he could find some of the people who were actually the vampire’s close friends. Right now, though, Sam was their best bet for getting out of there.

“To me?” Nico repeated, confused. He watched Sam back away a few paces and a frown formed on his face. “Nothing. I’m fine, I promise.” He wasn’t lying. He was a little unnerved by whatever was going on with Myrnin, but he really didn’t want to risk getting in the vampire’s way when he was like this. Not when he was fixing them with that empty, uncaring gaze. Nico felt deep down that something was fundamentally wrong with Myrnin, but he’d go back to normal eventually. He had to, he was Myrnin. And if he didn’t, that wasn’t Nico’s problem. “Sam, just let him go for now. There are people in his world – your world, I guess – that can help him better than either of us can.” That, if anything, was an indication that something had happened to Nico. Nico would have fought tooth and nail for the few people he trusted completely, even if it meant he put himself in harm’s way. And he’d made it pretty clear earlier that he cared deeply about Myrnin and owed him a lot. Now, though, that trust seemed to be missing, and Nico didn’t seem to have a reason. Not that he recognized any of that in himself. All he was aware of was that he knew there were people who knew how to deal with Myrnin in the memories that Nico had of the room where he’d shared Myrnin’s life. Since the foundations of his trust in Myrnin had been taken away, all the memories were rather dulled over. He remembered feeling strong emotions, but he couldn’t quite access them or understand why. If he tried too hard, it was like he was scrabbling against a slick surface before his mind slid right to the next thing. So he didn’t try very hard to understand – it didn’t seem like there was anything he was missing. If anything, Myrnin had done too good a job.
Nico cast another glance at Myrnin, shrugging off the weird feeling he got looking at him. This isn’t right, a voice in his head whispered. You care about him, you can’t leave him behind.
Why not? inquired the larger part of Nico’s mind. Why do we care about him?
The first voice didn’t respond. The first voice couldn’t respond, there was nothing to respond with. We have to get Sam out of here, it said instead, refocusing the growing distress that Nico couldn’t account for. He glanced at the younger vampire, wondering how best to get him safely out of the room. They could shadow-travel, but Nico didn’t know where they were going. They’d have to do this the old-fashioned way. Nico was upset. This was supposed to be a fun room, and then they’d had that conversation, and there’d been the bite, and that would’ve been fine. They could have bounced back from that. But now they had to deal with Myrnin acting weird and dangerous and something about it pulled at Nico in a way he just passed off as unease. It might as well have been, nothing else made sense.
“Sam, there’s nothing we can do right now,” he repeated, trying to impress the urgency of the situation on Sam. They had no idea when Myrnin would go from disinterested into attack mode. Nico didn’t know what kind of switch would have to be thrown to encourage that, and he wasn’t going to stick around long enough to find out. “He’s not going to listen to you, look at him! We get out of here, go the opposite way he’s going, and then we can talk about this. We can talk about Myrnin, and we can talk about what we were talking about before, and we can talk about you.” It was clear that he was still as daunted by the second category as he had been before, but there was no tension about the bite anymore. Well… there was a little bit, but not nearly like there had been before.

Nico followed Sam, grateful for the reassuring squeeze the other boy gave his hand. Myrnin was frightening to say the least, in a way that inspired a sense of dread Nico had been hitherto unfamiliar with. The sort of dread that pricked at his memories but slid off just as quickly. Enough that, had Nico been paying attention, he may have actually questioned whether something was wrong. He was a bit too preoccupied to actually take that into consideration. He kept looking over his shoulder to see if Myrnin was watching them, but he appeared to be out of eyeshot for now. Unfortunately, because he was a vampire, he was probably still within earshot. Nico swallowed, partially wondering why he had ever become friends with such a terrifying creature. Sam may not have counted as a monster, but the way Myrnin was acting was far more similar to that of certain monsters than any mortals or demigods. The line was fuzzy as it was, and Myrnin was certainly toeing it.
Sam seemed to have a decent idea of where to go. He would at least know when they were out of Myrnin’s earshot, because Myrnin would be out of his. That was certainly a benefit to having a vampire on his side when somehow something had happened to the other vampire. It was reassuring to have Sam nearby, not abandoning him in spite of what had happened. They needed to have a conversation about that, but Nico knew well that said conversation would have to happen another time. They were dealing with Myrnin now, not the bite.
And then Sam stopped and dropped Nico’s hand and Nico wasn’t sure what he felt. “Nothing,” he replied, and it felt like the truth. Just as Sam’s words had felt like an accusation. A feeling of wrong swept over him.
“He…” there was something, no. No, there was never anything there, Nico was being foolish. “I was upset, I think. He took a little pain off, just until I had enough blood back to recover. That’s it.” He reached to check again if he was wrong and there had been something after, something to trigger this, but he shrugged. “Nothing else happened, we didn’t… do anything. He was just. Like that.” It felt wrong. It felt like something was missing, but only for a moment before Nico’s brain soothed over it. Despite – or perhaps because of – what it had cost him, Myrnin had done an expert job. If Nico had been aware of it, if Nico understood why he remembered caring so deeply about Myrnin… he would have been impressed. But through his eyes now it just felt like Myrnin had become something else for no reason.
“You’re a vampire,” Nico added quietly, brows raised. “I’m sure you overheard what we were saying. What do you think happened before he went like that?” He didn’t want Sam accusing him. It wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t done anything. Sam could testify if he had been listening in.

It wasn’t that Nico didn’t believe Sam, but it seemed like Sam wasn’t saying something. It was clear that there was something wrong and Sam had more of a grasp of it than he was letting on. But Nico wasn’t going to press something that could be upsetting for Sam. Even if Nico wasn’t too bothered by it, it seemed Sam was still rather rattled by his slip up. Nico wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to worry about it, that it was fine, but… well, he had a feeling Sam wouldn’t take that too well. Perhaps Nico wasn’t making as big a deal about it as he should have been. He just… hadn’t been terribly effected. Sure, it was hard that he had to recover from a staggering amount of blood loss, but he was still alive, and he knew for a fact that Sam didn’t have to stop when he did. Sam could have kept going, and Sam could have killed him. And it wasn’t the closest Nico had ever been to death. It was just one more thing, and it had been unpleasant, but not impossible. He couldn’t help but feel like Sam was acting like his entire world had fallen apart. Nico wished he could help ease Sam’s guilt, but in a way Sam was a lot like him. Any attempt to do so would only make Sam even more guilty.
“I hope Myrnin gets better soon,” he added, though he wasn’t sure it would really impact him if Myrnin didn’t. It would be sad for Sam, but he wasn’t even sure the Myrnin in the House was the same Myrnin as in Sam’s world. It was hard to tell. And it certainly would be better if there was more than one Myrnin the House could pull, especially since this Myrnin was acting weird. “Just… be careful helping people with pain if that can happen,” he added softly, but figured Sam didn’t need to be told. Sam was already wary enough about his vampire powers, the last thing he needed was Nico just making it worse.
“I agree though. Let’s keep moving.” The corn maze was creeping him out and he really had no idea what Myrnin was going to do. The look in his eyes had seemed almost animalistic, and Nico really didn’t want to risk Myrnin getting hungry before they got somewhere where they might have a bit more of a level playing field. He gave Sam’s hand a quick squeeze before taking a step forward. “Yes, Your Majesty,” Nico added lightly, trying to make a joke in a tense situation. “You’re still… you’re still dressed as a King,” he added lamely, cheeks reddening as he stared at the ground.

Nico followed Sam, occasionally poking his head around dark corners just to see if he could find a path that Sam was missing. It seemed, however, that superior senses of smell gave Sam an edge here, as the other boy found an exit before Nico could even begin to. It was too dark for him to really be able to take cues from the maze around them, and it seemed as they got closer to the entrance that the maze around them just got darker. Nico was used to being out of his depth, sure, but he wasn’t used to being so in a dark place, when someone else had the upper hand on him. He’d been able to figure out the Labyrinth quicker than most other people, and though the paths to the Underworld tended to be dark, he was familiar with each intimately. The dark mazes of the world were sort of where he thrived, and it was odd being so lost in one in the House. He found that dwelling on that thought – no matter how unnerving it was – kept his mind from straying towards the eerie looks Myrnin had given htem as he had ambled off. It hadn’t seemed quite human, and though he knew Myrnin was a vampire… well, Sam was a vampire too, and he seemed pretty human to Nico. Nico certainly couldn’t picture him with that disinterested look in his eyes.
And then Sam disappeared. Nico’s heart stuttered as he looked around, trying to find where the vampire might have gone. He had been too busy dwelling on that tiny little smile Sam had given him, the one that seemed to warm his bones and remind him that no matter how wrong things seemed in this maze, they could be better. Here, and in Nico’s world. As long as there were people like Sam.
Nico took a few wrong turns before he found himself back in the place where Sam had disappeared from, and there… at the end of that sharp turn, he could see it. Something almost glowing in the distance. An exit, hopefully. Or the hideaway of something that had gotten to Sam before Nico could protect him. He shook his head of the thought and steeled himself before rushing through the hole, only to find himself in the living room, back in his normal clothes.
“Well that was… an adventure,” he commented, brushing off his clothes. He still felt rather shaky from how much blood Sam had taken, but they were both alive, and that was what mattered. “You alright?” he asked after a moment, peering at Sam. Something had changed between when they had entered the room and when they had left, but truth be told he didn’t know exactly what it was, so it wasn’t like he could fix it. And it didn’t seem like Sam was going to tell him.

---
When Nico blinked back in, not that much time had passed in his world. A few hours at most, though that was a longer gap than he had been dealing with lately. And, as usual, the House was a nice reprieve. There had been something odd in the way the crew of the Argo II had been looking at him on his last adventure home. Nico knew he still had a lot to make up for from his past, and promises he needed to keep if any of them wanted to have a future, but for whatever reason things had been different. Nico shrugged the thought away. Recently, the House had felt more like the real world than his world did. It was funny that way, since he had spent so much more time in the House for that brief couple of hours that had been probably at least quadrupled by how much of it had been spent in the House. That wasn’t the case now, though, and he needed to get used to the idea of his falling world being more real than the House. His world needed saving. The House didn’t.
It was odd being alone in the living room. While it was a comfort to Nico to be alone on the best of days, he couldn’t help seeing the way Myrnin had looked at him during his last blink. The idea of being in the living room alone with that… it sent a shudder down Nico’s spine. Part of him wished he could help his friend, but that wasn’t his business. He had no idea if Myrnin even wanted helping, or if that… that spiritless thing had been what Myrnin was deep down all along. The truth was, Nico didn’t know how to tell.
Brushing the thought away, Nico moved to take a seat on the couch, reflexively taking up as little space as he possibly could.

Nico tensed as he noticed the appearance of the vampire nearby. It almost felt like a cruel joke, that he had been thinking about the vampire and he just happened to blink in. Nico still hadn’t processed everything that had happened the last blink, but he did know that none of his memories of Myrnin made sense. Not really. It was like he had woken up from a dream and realized that he had trusted the wrong person, that he had made decisions in the dream based on his own sleep deprivation and confused mind. Myrnin was kind, sure, but that didn’t mean Nico trusted him. The room they’d shared, where they’d lived each other’s lives, remained untouched in his memory, but there was nothing leading up to it, nothing in the aftermath, that had as much weight as it once did. And maybe his standards for trusting people had gone down, but from what he remembered, Myrnin hadn’t passed them. Not really. Especially not with the way he’d been looking at him the last time.
The expression on Myrnin’s face was different, this time. The eye color was different. Even so, when Myrnin said his name, he tensed uncomfortably, not able to meet Myrnin’s gaze. He was used to being looked at strangely by other demigods – like he was dangerous, like he was trouble, like he would turn on them in a moment if the opportunity presented itself. He was used to being looked at by gods who wished he didn’t exist. None of that was as chilling as the look Myrnin had given him before, when he’d escaped the last room with Sam. That was all Nico could picture when he thought of lifting his eyes to meet Myrnin’s.
“Fine, I guess,” Nico replied, voice tight. A lie, but only sort of. He was doing far better than he had been before Myrnin had smoothed over his memories, but he didn’t realize that had happened, so in his opinion, things in his world were still terrible, and it felt like they were facing the impossible – even more so than it had before. Physically, though, he looked better. At least a few of the shadows under his eyes had faded – he’d been able to sleep for the first time in months.
He didn’t know what to say… did he ask the same question of the vampire? How could Myrnin explain what had happened last time? Nico wasn’t even sure he wanted an explanation.

Nico watched Myrnin cautiously, ready to run or fight if need be. Yet Myrnin just seemed… out of it. Like a demigod who had pushed too hard, who had maxed out their powers for a bit and didn’t have a way to come back from the brink without a few hours of sleep. Even so, this was unmistakably Myrnin. The Myrnin that Nico had been friends with. The Myrnin that Nico couldn’t remember half of his friendship with because that was so tied up in the memories of Tartarus that Myrnin had taken from him.
“What happened?” Nico asked quietly, expression wary as he watched Myrnin. “Last time, in the maze? Why did you… why did you look at Sam and I like that?” Maybe it was an unfair question. Nico didn’t mean it to be, didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but it had been frightening. Was it really so wrong to want answers? Not even more a moment did he consider that the change in Myrnin had been his fault.
The next question threw Nico for a loop. There was something off about Myrnin even now, and Nico didn’t know how to handle it. He had taken the coward’s way out in the last room, he knew that. He and Sam had fled instead of trying to help, but even now Nico didn’t know if he could help. If Myrnin would even want his help.
“Yes,” he replied, still not quite looking at Myrnin. “The world is still in danger.” His words were terse, clipped, like he didn’t want to be talking. Like he didn’t know how to talk to Myrnin. Like his choice – whether he remembered making it or not – came with unintended consequences.

Nico could tell something was off, but he didn’t want to press it. There was more to this than the strange look Myrnin had gotten in the last room. There was more to this than gold eyed vampires, because if Nico remembered correctly, gold eyes didn’t just happen. Something had to trigger them, and Nico didn’t have the slightest clue what could have triggered it this time. It must have been something in Myrnin’s world, right? Because Nico hadn’t seen anything in the maze. Nothing had happened there.
“I suppose healthy is one word for it,” Nico replied sarcastically. However, there had been benefits to Myrnin’ sacrifice. Nico had actually been able to sleep, had eaten actual meals rather than just picking at what little food he could force down. Even though he didn’t realize it, he did look healthier.
Even though Nico couldn’t remember his friendship with Myrnin well enough that he knew all of Myrnin’s tells, he liked to believe he knew when he was being lied to. Myrnin wasn’t telling the whole truth about what caused whatever was happening. The thing was, Nico saw no reason why Myrnin would tell him the truth, so he didn’t ask. If it were something he wanted Nico’s help with, he would tell him. If he felt comfortable sharing, then he wouldn’t have told a lie.
Maybe if Nico had confirmation that it made Myrnin dangerous, he would have pressed the matter. Maybe he would have seen what he could do to help. Maybe if he felt he had any sway, if he thought Myrnin might tell the truth with just a little bit of prodding… but he didn’t. And if there was one thing Nico didn’t do, it was press strangers, or friends, even, when they wanted to keep their secrets to themselves.
“I don’t know if it will help,” Nico murmured, meeting Myrnin’s gaze. If the vampire wanted to tell him he didn’t need advice, he could. Nico was consciously giving him that option. “But if you ground yourself in reality you might be able to keep it all together a little bit better. Just… try to focus on something specific. And if you feel your thoughts drifting, try to anchor them again.”
The Nico who remembered Tartarus would have been more help. The Nico who had gone through Tartarus knew how to get himself through panic attacks, and though that wasn’t the same thing as Myrnin’s gold eyes, there were likely strategies that bridged the gap. This Nico… this Nico tried to help. The only issue was he really had no idea what he was talking about. He spoke from secondhand advice, not from experience.
Perhaps another Nico could have helped Myrnin. But that Nico was gone. That Nico had caused the problem in the first place. This Nico was all that was left.

Nico watched Myrnin carefully, not trusting him completely. He’d seen the way the gold eyed Myrnin had looked at him, and he didn’t care for it. Even the gods looked at demigods with more respect than that. They still obviously felt themselves superior, but they seemed to recognize the value in humanity. Myrnin… hadn’t seemed to. The thought frightened Nico more than he cared to admit. What would happen, if Myrnin’s eyes turned gold now? There was nothing Nico could do except turn the other way, and he didn’t have Sam here anymore. On one hand, it meant Sam was probably safe, but on the other it meant that Nico had to deal with this alone.
“I guess… I haven’t done a room since…” since the corn maze. Since Sam had bitten him. Since Myrnin had changed. Did he really want to do a room again? Not really, but he also didn’t really want to have this awkwardly stilted conversation with Myrnin, and a room was a decent enough distraction that Nico wouldn’t have to think about his relationship to Myrnin.
If he’d been aware enough to realize something was wrong, that would have been one thing. That would have been a step in the right direction to fixing it. But he wasn’t even aware enough for that. All he knew was that something about his friendship with Myrnin didn’t make sense, and he’d acted recklessly when it came to trusting him in the past. It was a mistake that would have to be remedied. Or else he would have to get to know Myrnin better, which made him… strangely uncomfortable. He didn’t like being known, and Myrnin knew him too well for his own comfort. The House had crossed some lines, making them watch each other’s’ lives.
He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the thoughts. “I think a room might be the best option.”

Nico followed, if only because he lacked anything better to do. If only because there was a part of him that trusted Myrnin that the rest of him didn’t understand because logically, it didn’t make sense. They were acquaintances who had been through some unfortunate experiences together. If Nico’s heart wanted to find friendship in Myrnin, it was only because Nico couldn’t stop it. It wasn’t like he was particularly trying to, but the more people he cared about, the easier it would be for his heart to break. He didn’t need his heart to break any more easily than it already did. But the House was the one exception, the one place where Nico let himself openly care. Which meant, if Myrnin stayed Myrnin, there was a chance they could come close to what they had. It really did depend on Myrnin staying himself, though. Gold-eyed Myrnin was unnerving. He reminded Nico of how little he knew of the vampire. Of how flimsy his foundation of trust was when it came to Myrnin.
“I… I don’t believe you have, no,” Nico replied, shaking his head. “You can, if you want.” The thought was left in the hallway, however, as Nico stepped into the room after Myrnin.
Alphabets lined the walls, complete with pictures of things that began with each letter.
ABC. Apple, Bear, Car. ABC. Aereo, Bandiera, Casa. ΑΒΓ. Αράχνη, Βάτραχος, Γάτα. Others, languages Nico didn’t recognize. Interesting. He was grateful, suddenly, that Myrnin spoke English. A room decorated like this didn’t… well, it didn’t bode well for the translator.

Nico was shocked, at first, by the sight of the room, but he figured he had long ago lost the right to be surprised by anything the House had to throw at him. At some point, even the most surprising things couldn’t shake him. It looked… well, it looked like what Nico expected a classroom to look like. Not that he’d been in one for a number of years, but still. The alphabets seemed like the sort of thing he’d find in a classroom that taught kids how to write. Why they needed so many different languages was a question only the House could answer.
The House showed its hand sooner than Nico had expected. He turned on Myrnin the instant the vampire spoke, surprised at the strange words coming out of his mouth. Was this what he sounded like to others when he decided to curse in Ancient Greek? Nico hoped that Myrnin wasn’t uttering profanities that Nico wasn’t supposed to hear, but… really, he wouldn’t know. And how many times had he done the exact same thing?
“What?” He asked, though he knew the moment the words left his lips that they weren’t in English. They came out too smoothly… so not English or Latin, the languages he had needed to pick up later in life. Italian or Ancient Greek, though… if he had been paying closer attention to his own words he would have known. “Can you… can you understand me?” Nico asked, doing his best to speak English. It didn’t work. He could think in English at least… or it seemed he was able to. Differentiating between was hard when the House decided to meddle with the translator. The words sounded English in his head, but they just… weren’t when they left his lips. Probably easier to just speak Ancient Greek intentionally and remove any chance of the House mistranslating.

Nico glanced at Myrnin, frowning just a little bit. He wasn’t the greatest at reading people, but even he could tell that Myrnin wasn’t any more pleased with this situation than Nico was. He had no idea what language the vampire was even speaking, and it most certainly didn’t share roots with any languages Nico was familiar with.
“This is great,” he huffed, frowning at the sound of the words as they left his lips. It just wasn’t worth it to try to speak in any other languages right then – he had no idea if Myrnin spoke Italian or Latin, and the English wasn’t turned on. Looking around, though, Nico couldn’t help but wonder if that was part of the room’s trick. There wasn’t a door anymore, although there very rarely was, in the House.
Perhaps, if they found words that both of them could understand, then they could find a way out? They both had practice learning languages, after all, so surely finding a few words to communicate wouldn’t be that difficult. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was something.
“You,” Nico said slowly, pointing at Myrnin. “You are Myrnin.” The most basic sentence possible, to the point he hoped Myrnin didn’t think he’d lost his mind. “Me,” he continued, pointing at himself. “I am Nico.” He watched Myrnin for a few moments, hoping the vampire would catch on. If he did, that meant he had at least three words to work with in Ancient Greek, which was… well, better than what they had before.