Work Text:
Serif leaned back against the concrete wall, letting her eyes flick between the cars driving past. Fuego was at her mom's house, saying she needed time to think. Rey was.. honestly, none of them had heard from him since the night they argued over his desire to join the Camarilla. She figured he was mulling over what they had all said and was trying to decide if he cared about them. She kicked a stray piece of brick down the sidewalk.
"Blowing off steam?" She didn't have to look to know Isaac had arrived.
A week or two ago she had invited the coterie to go tagging with her, a second outing of sorts. But since that argument in the SUV she didn't expect them to remember, much less bother. To be fair she wasn't sure she even wanted to see Rey right now, and Fuego seemed more upset at her faking her accent than him talking to the Camarilla— so that left Isaac.
"Just. Art block, I guess." Serif shook off her bag to start getting her paints in order, only glancing in Isaac's direction briefly. She noticed his ghouls weren't with him.
"Where's Angela?"
"In the car with Michael."
"And.. where's that at?"
"A little ways in that direction," Isaac gestured down a neighborhood alleyway. "Just in case."
Serif doesn't reply, instead starts sorting her spray cans in the colors she needs, putting the stencils in a pile next to Isaac's boot.
"I'm assuming the others decided to not show up?" Serif's grip on the spray can tightened. Could he read the room for once?
"Why did you come out here then?" Isaac didn't react to the venom in her words.
"You never told me who taught you how to paint."
Serif stopped shaking the teal paint for a second to look up at him. Argos wasn't as touchy of a subject as her mom but it still caused a similar sting.
"I mean Argos taught me how to paint when I was a kid but," Serif grabbed two of the stencils. "I had some friends in high school who took me tagging once, and that was all she wrote."
"I take it he doesn't like your style."
Serif gave a bitter laugh, spraying a thick circle of blue over a faded phone number.
"You've never disappointed your parents before?" Come to think of it she's never heard Isaac mention his mortal family.
"If you're dead to someone, how can you disappoint them?" Isaac's voice was lower, though he still had his usual fanged grin on display.
"Shit," Serif grimaced. "I'm sorry."
"There's no need to be sorry, it doesn't bother me."
Serif didn't seem sure about that. From where she was standing, it wasn't that nothing bothered him, but rather he forced himself to not react. It was like he rationalized himself out of feeling his own emotions for whatever reason.
Or maybe she just felt too much.
Instead of arguing, Serif picked up a stencil and used a dark blue to create raindrop outlines over the now-dried, muted teal. Isaac took a step closer to watch, being careful not to trample on the cutouts at his feet.
"Can you hand me a purple?"
Isaac touched the cans until he found the violet paint, handing it over. Serif did a quick shake! shake! shake! before spraying streams of purple flowing down from the raindrop bulbs.
They had this routine for a while: Serif naming a color and Isaac grabbing it for her, even shaking it before handing it over several times. Serif knew this was helping her relax like it always has, but she noticed that Isaac seemed to be at least enjoying himself. The familiar rhythm was comforting in a way.
Soon Serif stepped back to look at the graffiti in full. It looked as like a thunderstorm was washing a rainbow away. She thought about what this might look like had Francis given her more of that alchemy paint. Maybe she could call and ask if they could make more and add a few touch-ups later? She frowned at seeing some of the line work was smudged.
"It's.. lovely." Isaac looked at the mural over Serif's shoulder, an easy grin on his face as he took in the detail.
"Oh— thank you Isaac." Serif was so absorbed in the critiques buzzing through her head she barely registered what he said. She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of the piece to show to her tagger buddies later.
"It's getting late, I should probably find a subway or something to stay in for the day." She began to grab spray cans as Isaac crouched down and held her backpack open for her.
"I can drop you off if you need." He gestured toward the direction of the van.
"Nah I got a place in mind, but thanks," Serif turns to start walking down the alley. "And— thanks for the help with my art Isaac."
"No problem; I like your work, it feels," he pauses, thinking about how to phrase it. "alive."
As they said their goodbyes and Serif headed towards a parking garage, she changed her phone's background to the rain storm of blues and ultraviolets.