Nicodemus Castalia (makedeadwalk) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-12-04 11:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-08-03 |
Blood on the Dance Floor
Who: Nic and Zania
Where: Heme
When: Just after dawn
The night had been too long, not busy enough and draining at the same time. Mondays were always like that. Nic would have preferred to be anywhere else, but he couldn't call into work just because he was in a bad mood. He'd wasted his night off to take out a girl that made him feel like a fool, that was all. He could drown himself in liquor later, when he had nowhere to be in the next twenty-four hours. As he swept the dance floor clean, he drifted off in thought, replaying the night over in his head, trying to see the signs he should have missed. She'd played him well, but he should have known. It was too much, too fast, too much of a one-eighty without enough questions. When he'd mentioned magic and she'd gotten frustrated, he should have known, he should have--
"You're smearing blood across the dance floor."
Nic looked up, surprised that anyone else was still there with him. He often sensed when vampires were around and they could rarely sneak up on him, but a human could do it easily in comparison. When he'd offered to lock up, he'd assumed everyone else had left. Zania stared back at him, a mop in her outstretched hand, and Nic looked down at the mess he'd made. Someone had spilled their drink.
"Oh. Thanks," he said, taking the mop from her and handing her the broom. "You're up late."
"You're observant," she said back. When he rolled his eyes and began to mop up the floor, she went to clean off the broom and continued. "I was working on that song we started last time you were home. I think I finally figured out a way to make the bridge work, but I want to run it by you and the guys." She paused, looking up at him, watching carefully. "You know, you'd be a better lead than Manny on this round." It was also out of Nic's range of playing, but she wasn't going to say that when the point was that he'd be better behind the mic. It was just hard to get him there in the first place.
"We've been over this," he said with a sigh. "I don't want sing. I sound like shit. Can we not do this tonight?" It wasn't so much about the way he sounded, but his confidence level. Nic had never been the center of attention and didn't know what to do about it when he was. That wasn't his thing. It was Zania's, Justin's, or Mannix's. Nic felt like he was made to be in the background and that's where he would stay. The second he stepped into the spotlight, he would make a fool of himself, just like he had last night.
She didn't know what was going on in his head, but she knew it was bullshit. His voice was just fine and was better built for some of the songs they were writing these days. They all sang, all played a variety of instruments, but Nic generally refused to take the lead, not just on the stage, but in life. For someone that wanted to push his boundaries everywhere else, Zania couldn't understand why this was an issue. "Okay. Tomorrow night then," she said, feeling like that was a compromise. For Nic it just meant he'd avoid her the next day. "So are you gonna tell me what happened to your lip?"
Maybe it would have been better to agree to sing lead because this conversation was bound to go poorly. It didn't occur to Nic that he could lie to Zania. He'd tried that in the past and it usually made things worse. She figured out the truth and then he had to face additional wrath for lying to her in the first place. "Bianca bit me."
The fuck?! "What was she doing that close in the first place?" There might have been a common sense answer, but the last time she'd talked to Nic about Bianca the two of them had barely been cordial. The idea of him trying to kiss her didn't even cross Zania's mind.
"Trying to avoid my tongue?" He could already tell from the rise in her voice that this was going to be bad, but he needed to get it off his chest at this point. Nic's frustration was rising to the point where it was driving him nuts and if he didn't talk to someone then he'd do something stupid instead. "She asked me out on a date. Played all nice, pretended that she'd had some kind of light-bulb moment, and wanted wanted to make it up to me. We got pizza, saw a movie, and I took her home. She prompted me for a fucking kiss, then bit me, called me an idiot, and shut the door in my face."
"That bitch," Zania snapped, her eyes flashing with fury as she twisted her hands around the broom handle. For a second Nic thought she might snap it in two, but luckily she didn't. He didn't want to explain to Grayson that his cousin was breaking their cleaning supplies in moments of rage. "I will cut her tongue off and make her eat it. Then her eyes. I bet they pop." The broom dropped to the floor as Zania headed towards the door, her mission now the only thing on her mind. By the time she was finished, Bianca would be in little tiny pieces, drained of blood and buries in her own yard. A plan was forming about how much pain she could make the girl endure before she disappeared forever.
Nic cursed, dropped the mop, and took a few quick steps to catch his cousin by the wrist. He knew that look in her eyes and knew that, if he didn't stop her now, there would be nothing left of Bianca by nightfall. As much as he liked the idea, he thought it was probably a little drastic for this particular offense. "Zania, no." She twisted around, attempting to break his hold and what should have been simple act of pulling her back became a full on fight. Teaching her hand to hand combat had been one of the family's less intelligent moves, in his opinion, since they got hit with it more often than anyone else. Zania hit like a girl-- quick, sharp, and below the belt. Nic crumbled to the floor and grabbed her ankle, taking her down with him. "I said no."
"Why the fuck not?" Zania had taken others out for lessor offenses, things that didn't upset her even half as much as this instance did. No one messed with her family and walked away unscathed. Bianca had attacked Nic in her eyes and that was not the sort of thing she let go, not even at his request. The Castalias had not made their name due to their forgiving nature. Zania twisted in Nic's grip, finally pulling out of his hold as she scooted backwards across the floor. She'd probably stained her jeans with whatever blood remained, but it wouldn't be the first time.
"Because she's not worth it. Not the time and not the risk," Nic said, staying put rather than crawling after her. They'd already tumbled to the floor like children; he wasn't going to make it worse.
"You think I'd get myself caught?" It was a blow to her pride, that Nic didn't think she could take out a teenage girl without making a bigger mess of things. Sure, she'd fucked up once before, but they'd been kids back then. He couldn't hold that one instance against her when there'd been plenty inbetween to prove she knew what she was doing.
"No," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "I just don't think she deserves to die for it." Were they really having this discussion here? If anyone were listening in, they'd probably think they were crazy, or possibly over exaggerating. Most people didn't make such sincere death threats on such a whim.
Zania stared back at him, her lips pressed in a thin line as her nails began to tap against the floor. She didn't like it. Not at all. What she wanted she'd been told she couldn't have, and that always made things worse. Then it became a challenge, a dare of sorts, where she'd fight just to win, regardless of the reason. "She's a cunt," she finally said, eyes cold and hard.
"Yeah, well, so are you, and you don't see me scooping your eyes out with spoons and making them into soup," Nic said with a hint of a smile. "Besides, she doesn't learn anything from it if she's dead." He appreciated the fact that she wanted to defend him, since he knew he'd do the same for her. Hell, he didn't think he'd back down quite so easily, so he should probably give her props for listening to him at this point. "Just don't kill her." As soon as he said it, he realized he'd given her permission to do something, which might be just as dangerous as the open-ended anything. "OR touch her," he amended. "No physical marks. She's the kind to go to the police."
The insult was ignored the second he gave her what she wanted, a chance at payback with a few tiny rules. Nic knew well and good the kind of damage she could do without laying a single finger on Bianca, which made the restrictions almost a joke. Zania grinned, thrilled to be given the opportunity to enact the perfect revenge. "A curse then. With your blood." She could write one so that only he could remove it, doubling the fun of placing it. Zania rose to her feet, then offered her cousin a hand, her mood greatly lifted now that she had a place to channel her anger. Her mind was already spinning.
Nic thought he would regret granting Zania permission to go after Bianca, but now that it was done he felt immensely better. Revenge was a dish best served cold and Zania would likely come up with something far more successful now that he'd pressed her to slow down and not kill Bianca. She was more calculating, whereas he preferred to go along with the plan once presented to him. And it would be presented to him, at least if she intended to use his blood. This was his revenge too, at least in part, and he refused to regret it.