Chapter Text
The only thing Jasdero and Debita remembered from before their awakening was their birthday, on December twenty-first.
At first, they were reluctant to celebrate it, or any other holiday, with the rest of the clan.
It was suspicious to them, especially with Christmas looming ever closer; they claimed that they were after the extermination of humanity, but the Clan also celebrated all of those petty little festivities.
The young girl, Road, claimed it was for the purpose of blending in with society, but Jasdero and Debita suspected that she just enjoyed watching Sheril run around like a chicken with its head cut off.
The older man was especially invested in keeping up appearances, a stark difference from the man who had helped them wipe out that disgusting city the day of their awakening.
He taught them how to use the power of imagination as a weapon and showed off his own powers, the sinewy spider threads that issued from his neat black nails, in a spectacularly violent manner.
So when that day was done, and they found out that he was incredibly prissy when not engaged in epic slaughter, they were a little disappointed.
But on the other hand, he was the one that took them from that shithole city and gave them a family to care for.
Never mind the few weeks it took for them to get used to the psychos in the Clan Of Noah.
Besides Sheril, his alleged brother, Tyki, was a bit of a wildcard who scared the hell out of them at first, but they soon discovered was a lazy man with tastes more similar to their own than to Sheril's.
They love watching him fish and eat his catches raw with his bare hands, but his brother hated fun and often scolded them for coming back from the lake wet and muddy.
So they weren't looking forward to that first stuffy, rule-following Christmas amongst their alleged Uncle's high society friends.
~*~*~*~
The last few days before Christmas started with a comment about breasts and ended with a crate of vintage wine.
It was early in the morning, the day of their birthday, and they were at Kamelot Manor, in Lisbon, Portugal.
The twins had taken to pretending to be good, polite young men whenever they were around Sheril's fake wife, Tricia.
When her involvement in the Noah plan - involvement unknown to the woman herself - was explained to Jasdero and Debita, they understood without question, and immediately decided it would be the height of comedy to treat her with respect they didn't afford to her husband.
Watching the small changes in expression on his face, knowing he wanted to say something but wouldn't dare be mean to them in front of Tricia, almost made this excruciating day worth it.
It was when a strange curiosity suddenly came to Jasdero that their troubles started that day.
Completely unaware of the minefield he was walking into, from his seat in the heated, glass-walled tea room, he asked out loud, "does your wife get to see your tits, though?"
The question was so out of nowhere that Debita laughed with a mouth full of tea, splattering the table with the brew and choking even as he was guffawing wildly.
As Jasdero patted his brothers back, he looked up to see Sheril scowling at him, and instead of a proper answer, he received a sharp finger pointing out the door, and the command, "both of you, go to your room."
The low tone was far more intimidating than if he had screamed, and the twins scrambled out of their chairs and out the door, just barely hearing Tricia say, "oh, darling, they are just young boys, of course they're curious-"
They didn't hear the rest, or what his response was, as they escaped to the main hall to go up the elegant staircase there.
Even they had to admit that the dazzling colors and textures of the Christmas decor were wonderfully done, and they passed through to admire the green and red and gold whenever possible.
"Hee hee~," Jasdero giggled, wiping tea from his face with the sleeve of the fancy Christmas suit he had been stuffed into, "I guess that wasn't a good thing to say in front of a lady?"
"No kidding! It was funny as hell, though," Debita pulled at the collar of his matching suit, still laughing despite his sudden grimace, "why is that grown man so damn sensitive?"
"He's such a big baby, hee~", Jasdero agreed with a giggle as they entered their room.
The two of them hadn't settled into their tastes just yet, so the room was pretty plain, mostly wooden furniture painted black, two separate beds, and a single vanity large enough for two to share.
As Jasdero sat at the edge of his bed, and Debita took the chair in front of the vanity and contemplated the few pieces of makeup he had to experiment with, they heard the deep laugh that they had come to learn was Tyki's, and then the door opened and Sheril stepped into the room.
The twins didn't move a muscle, Debita glaring at his reflection in the vanity mirror.
The sound of the mans foot tapping was annoying, but neither of them dared say anything, forcing the man to speak first.
Neither of them expected what he actually said.
"Where on earth did you learn the word 'tits'?"
This earned another laugh from Tyki, walking up behind his brother and saying, "they're teenage boys, what haven't they heard?"
Before Sheril could argue, Debita stood up for the two of them, "what, you're mad we know the word tits? Would you prefer boobs, or-"
"I couldn't care less what kind of language you use, as long as it isn't in front of Tricia or any of my party guests!" And then Sheril thought for a moment before saying, "and I'd rather you not call anyone a 'bitch', if you don't mind."
Jasdero and Debita looked at each other, miserable faces above the stiff collars of the high society clothes he forced them into whenever they were at the Manor.
And then Debita asked sharply, "can we get clothes that aren't so tight? These things are killing us!"
"Yeah, I'm suffocating, hee~!" Jasdero added while tugging his collar.
Rolling his eyes with a long-suffering sigh, Sheril answered, "oh, fine. It's still early enough, perhaps we can make it to the tailors."
The twins stood up in unison and ran past Sheril, out into the halls, yelling, "shopping trip! Let's go get the Earl to come, too!"
And then they ran right back to physically pull Sheril along with them, as Tyki was asking, "Hey, do I have permission to use foul language, too?"
"Absolutely not," his brother answered, sending the twins into a fit of hysterical laughter even while they were grabbing Sheril and trying their best to rumple his clothes.
"You miscreants! Knock it off, or we aren't going!"
Jasdero and Debita began to boo and hiss at him, but they stopped roughing him up, leading him by his elbows back to the tea room to tell Tricia where they were going.
~*~*~*~
They felt a bit better after that; they had clothes that fit them, they had been allowed to buy more makeup, and they had the promise that dinner would be a private affair and not a ballroom party.
Whatever faults the twins thought Sheril had, he kept his promises, and that evening, him and the Earl cooked dinner, a strange combination of different dishes from around the world.
They had been eating like this since they were brought to Kamelot Manor, but after the first few confusing meals, they had gotten used to the lavish and extravagant dinners very well indeed.
But this didn't stop them from wanting to bother Sheril.
"He makes himself such an easy target," Debita laughed.
"Yeah, easy~" Jasdero agreed.
When they could control themselves, they were subtle about it, in very devious ways, like being nice to Tricia, preferring the Earl's cooking to his, teasing him over his taste in clothes.
But sometimes, when they were feeling especially petty, they'd go fishing with Tyki, or refuse to bathe, or come up with little schemes that usually involved paint or scissors or bugs.
They tried to remain as polite as possible during the days leading up to Christmas, but on the night of the enormous party held at Kamelot Manor on Christmas Eve, Jasdero and Debita were starting to get a bit antsy.
"This stuffy party is going to suck!" Jasdero whined as they were putting up extra decorations to make the Manor even more sparkling .
"Why are we even helping, then?!" Debita looked up to ask him.
Sheril had given then free reign, and they were looking for any place that looked empty enough for another ornament, streamer, or fistful of silver and gold tinsel.
"Because I wanted to decorate! Heehee!" He was sitting on Debita's shoulders as his brother carried their box of supplies, which also contained a snack of sliced cheese, sausage, crackers, and boiled eggs.
When Jasdero hung something, he would reach his hand down and recieve another snack or another decoration, and this was what Sheril devised to make them feel like they were equally a part of the festivities.
"It all just looks the same, though!" Debita glared at the red, blue, green, and gold, which was pretty but lacking in variety, in his opinion.
"Sheril promised we could have those Japanese omelet things in the morning!" Jasdero cheered.
"He thinks he can win us over with omurice!" Debita grumbled, but he wanted an omelet too, so he kept working.
The man himself was dictating the decor in the ballroom, the main venue the party would take place in, using servants his wife didn't know were hideous demons with destructive intentions.
The twins found this secret hilarious, and would crack up whenever they thought about it.
So they spent most of the morning giggling and decorating, until their box of pretty little Christmas things was empty of decor and food, and they had nothing else to do.
So they took the box back to the basement they got it from, and started looking around, realizing the door there probably led to a wine cellar.
Debita led the way, pushing the twisty door handle down and then pulling the door open just enough that the two of them could squeeze through.
There was barrels of the stuff, and the twins could smell it, sweet, tart, and slightly woody, making Jasdero sneeze.
"Shh!" His brother held a finger to his mouth, and he nodded before sneezing again.
"It's dusty down here," Jasdero complained, but his brother shushed him again.
As they continued wandering around, they soon spotted an overly large crate filled with bottles of vintage wine, with a big red and gold velvet ribbon placed on top.
"Hey, let's carry this upstairs!" Jasdero suggested and bent down to grab one edge, "won't Sheril be surprised when the wine for the party is already up there!"
Debita scoffed, and asked, "why should we do him any more favors? He's so annoying."
"Yeah, but..."
Jasdero thought about what little he remembered from before.
He vaguely recalled people bullying them, beating them into the dirt, or whenever they were particularly unlucky, the concrete.
He knew the pain on running through dirty, shattered glass on bare feet.
More vivid was the memory of Sheril giving them warm food, teaching them their murderous powers, and then taking them to the Scottish keep to be introduced to the rest of the family.
Jasdero began trying to lift the crate, before Debita finally joined him on the other side, and then they both imagined they were strong enough, and so they were.
Beaming even though he knew his brother wouldn't see his smile, Jasdero said, "don't you like having someone who cares for you? Even if they are irritating, hee~"
"I guess..." He heard Debita mumble as they began carrying the crate.
Despite imagining they were strong enough to carry it, it was still a struggle to get the crate back to the stairs and up out of the basement.
They nearly lost control several times, bumping it against walls or corners, or almost tipping over on the stairs, but eventually, they got it up into the kitchen the cellar was attached to.
But they didn't know where to go from there, so they stood in confusion, still holding up the crate, when they heard footsteps approaching from outside the kitchen, and then a voice in the hall to go with them.
"It's just about time to go get the wine up-" the kitchen door opened, and Sheril marched in, eyes lighting on the twins in mere seconds, "oh, hello! What is happening here?"
"We thought we'd get the wine!" Jasdero giggled as though he were pulling a prank, not doing a favor.
"Don't look at me, it was his idea!" Debita argued immediately.
Sheril looked like he didn't know what to say, and behind him, Skinn Bolic looked rather like he was fine with not having to carry the crate.
After a long moment of silence, Sheril snapped out of it, saying, "I appreciate that very much, boys. You can put it down right over here."
Carrying it to the spot he pointed at and finally letting go, Jasdero and Debita didn't know what to expect when Sheril subtly used his powers to pry the crate open.
"Go ahead, pick a bottle to share," he pointed inside, "I think the two of you deserve a little treat."
"Can we have money, instead?" Debita asked, and Jasdero hopped up and down, "or food!"
If Sheril was bothered, he didn't show it this time, "there will be plenty of food at the party, and you're getting money as part of your Christmas gifts."
The twins looked at each other and then pulled themselves up to look in the box, both of them reaching for a bottle of sparkling champagne and lifting it with grasping hands.
They didn't say thank you, running from the kitchen whooping and shouting as though this was what they wanted the entire time.
Without stopping to think about if they actually liked champagne, Jasdero and Debita proceeded to drink out of that bottle, during the party and all through the night, sitting at the same table as the rest of the family.
They knew alcohol didn't do anything to their new Noah bodies, and the bottle they picked wasn't very strong to begin with, but they had a lot of fun acting like loopy teenage boys.
They spent the night eating whatever they wanted, dancing with others their age and opening rich-kid presents they weren't interested in unless it was monetary.
The twins enjoyed being tricky towards Sheril, especially when their high-class human guests couldn't tell anything was happening.
Pretending to be drunk, acting like spoiled brats over their gifts, slipping unsavory things into people's drinks, whatever they could get away with.
When it was nearly midnight, the two of them had escaped upstairs with Road, and as they were falling asleep in a pile of tangled limbs by the fireplace, Jasdero whispered to his brother, "this is... kinda nice."
He was talking about having the ability to express himself, say what was on his mind or pretend to be polite, the promise of warm meals and clothes and the choice of his own furniture.
He meant the fact that people gave them money, and toy guns, and real guns, and makeup.
But mostly, he was talking about falling asleep by the fireplace with someone who loved them, even if they didn't understand why, not yet.
His words hung in the air over Road's soft breathing and self-satisfied face, her arms wrapped around a fancy new doll while her fingers clutched the sleeves of their Christmas suits.
Debita looked down at her, too, assuming she was already asleep, and said, "I guess... still too stuffy for me, but it'll do."
"It's better..." Jasdero didn't want to sound so miserable after the best Christmas ever, but he couldn't help but wobble his lip a little, "it's better than before."
Then they were both momentarily startled when Road whispered, "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"Geez, don't scare us!" Debita tried to pull himself away, but her grip was like iron, and he couldn't get out.
But she didn't speak again, and the twins looked at each other with confusion before settling down in the warmth of the firelight.
Eventually, Jasdero and Debita drifted off themselves, only vaguely hearing the sound of the door opening, and light conversation, and Sheril extracting Road from the pile to carry her to bed, the Earl picking them up to do the same soon after.