gʀɑɦɑɱ ɦɑʆɗɑʀ, ɛรquiʀɛ (businesslike) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-10-07 14:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, jonathan harker, zelda |
Who: Zelda and quasi-vampire Jonathan (plus guest appearance by murder boyfriends Zant and the Ganon-like douchebag)
What: An offer you shouldn't refuse is posed to Zelda's lawyer
When: Wednesday afternoon
Where: His office
Rating/Warnings: Mostly low - some creepiness and shaaaaade
Status: Complete
In a way, it was odd wearing the mantle of Sheik. An alter-ego she’d taken on to hide from Ganon and his army in the dreams, the Princess of Hyrule found it only fitting that she do the same here for the sake of safety. This time she chose a more androgynous route with her glamour magic; a lean body with muscle and a hint of feminine softness, a flattened chest and long, golden hair woven into a braid. Eyes that were typically bright sapphires were transitioned into a mahogany, but under the right light looked more like pools of blood - a Sheikah tribute she wanted to honor, even if it sounded silly. Her clothes were neutral, though leaned slightly more towards ‘boyish hipster’ than anything, with skinny jeans and a hooded sweatshirt to hide if necessary. Jonathan was alerted that a sir would be approaching his office, and when she was allowed inside, her brows waggled at him. “Should up the illusion on the muscles? I did that, in the dreams, but I don’t know if that was too much.” Zelda was trying to be a bit silly to lighten the situation. All aspects of it, from the complicated legalities and the knives in the darkness, to the vision she so dreaded having coming to fruition. The transition of a once human Jonathan Harker, joining the ranks of bloodthirsty creatures of the night. It feels as if they were in the diner just yesterday, protecting each other from demons. How did it come to this? Jonathan was sort of easing into a nocturnal schedule - he felt the very faint tug of something otherworldly, a sensation reminding him that he was meant to be asleep during the day. However, vampires could function when the sun was up, it was just against their nature (though he was fully prepared to be awake during the day when this case hit the courtroom). But all the big adjustments didn’t simply happen overnight either, and to be quite honest, he was already inundated with a barrage of changes since dreaming of being turned. It was all a bit of a dark, shadowy mess there too - he remembered seeing Dracula at the top of the stairs, enraged, distinctly not in his coffin. And rather than killing Jonathan he’d bitten the hunter (obviously he should stick to being a librarian and other scholarly pursuits), likely wanting to ironically turn him into the very thing he fought so hard to conquer. After that? Outlook hazy, try again later. His heartbeat continued to thrum beneath his skin, and some days he heard it so poignantly - for instance, right now, he wasn’t even certain if that was his own or Zelda’s. Senses were enhanced, accompanied by two sharp, sleek fangs that had appeared where normal canines once were - he could control the weather to some degree, but often his moods dictated the clouds outside to knit together intricately in a blanket of grey, or thunder to roll in. Along with the other quirks came a deadly aversion to sunlight, holy relics, and of course garlic. No more sushi with that ingredient, sadly. “No, it’s...” He looked at Zelda fondly, a slight smile tipping his mouth upward. “It’s very convincing.” A hand passed over his face, and he focused - her heartbeat was beginning to echo all around him, blood rushing through her veins, and the last thing he wanted was to need to be a recluse. He was already kind of a recluse. But that was fine - it meant he was getting work done on this case. “Just think, soon you won’t have to hide at all.” Another deep breath, and he adjusted a few things on his desk, closing the laptop - because he could hear everything, and smell everything, and he needed his office space to be immaculate. “Do you want anything? I think I have...” A squint in the direction of his office’s mini-fridge. “Coconut water.” It had helped Vlad when he was in the limbo between alive and undead - and it helped Jonathan too, only in his case, he wasn’t waiting on more dreams to finish the transition. He was waiting on a bite from his partner. It was in her nature to pick up the subtle hints of quiet distress, and with as close as they were, she found herself fairly attuned to the fashionably dressed lawyer - by now she was fluent in Harkerisms, and his struggle hadn’t gone unnoticed. Made those somewhat humored features (which were hers, not an illusion) falter, and perhaps her own smile held a teeny bit of melancholy with a dash of sheepishness. “Coconut water,” she repeated, a hum to her words, rocking back and forth on her feet before her head bobbed into a nod. Coconut water it was, then, and she sauntered over to crack the mini-box open. A bottle for each of them. “I’ll admit, I’ve never had this before - but it sounds healthy, so…” “It’s not bad,” Jonathan admitted, and he took the bottle, twisting the cap off. “Helps keep me focused, really.” So he wasn’t constantly thinking about blood, which was the life force and craving his body really had - a subtle nudging, much like the other sorts, something within him having taken root and was beginning to make a home. That dragon was slumbering, settling into its new space, already pleased with its new home. Now to make the transition complete, just one bite, to die and come back again - that was all that was needed. Food still held appeal to him, however, human food and drinks, so the coconut water (the substance mimicking the properties of human blood well enough) was a decent appeasement. “I’ve gotten a lot of work done though,” he added. “Have taken advantage of the time difference to make some contacts overseas, witnesses and such. Impa finally caved and gave me the documents she was saving.” And they’d been helpful, as he suspected they would be. Stray wisps of golden hair, fallen from the confines of the braid, were tucked behind her ear. Zelda half-sat, half-leaned against his desk (which basically meant it was one lone butt cheek on the surface while her leg held the rest of the weight), looking over the written blurb on the bottle on how healthy coconut water was for you, before opening it and giving it a hesitant whiff. “I heard,” she chuckled, mostly humorously. “It’s been rocky with her, but she’s getting there. Now that they’re here...” They, being Zant and the puppetmaster pulling his strings - her father’s murderer. “There’s no turning back.” It was for the best. That, she was confident about. And with Zant in the picture, she’d been determined to make sure that particular bastard got what was coming to him too. She and Midna would free themselves from beneath their thumbs, and no longer be the princesses stripped from their thrones. They were taking their lives back. “I know you’re balancing a lot, too. With...everything, on your plate.” A cautious step into vampire territory, and they’ve talked about it before, but she’d never stop being concerned. It was as if everyone close to her was getting sucked into the darkness of the night, stripped from daylight. “How are things, on your side?” Well, yes, it was quite the circus act. One plate, two plates, multiple plates - he was a damn plate spinner, riding a unicycle and also balancing a book on his head. And for his next trick... “Mostly fine,” now it was his turn to smile sheepishly, before chugging on the liquid appeasement. There was a nice, healthy supply at his house and Vlad’s house too - though since Jonathan woke up partly changed, they’d talked about consolidating. Finding a new house, a fresh start, something they could do together and something that was theirs (and with Felix there too, of course). “It’s a very daunting concept, the promise of eternity.” Eventually, he would have to say goodbye to Zelda. To Victor and Ethan (unless Frankenstein figured something out - Jonathan wouldn’t put it past him), to Svetlana and Robin and all of the irreplaceable, amazing friends he had made simply because he’d signed up for an online forum. Not something he enjoyed thinking of, but he couldn’t change this - he had to find a way to accept it on his end also, while Vlad came to terms with being the one to end one chapter and begin another. Still, he would bring justice for Zelda, her father, and Impa. His best friend would go into the next stage of her life comfortable, and content, not having to look over her shoulder - maybe she’d marry her own princess someday, have children, raise chickens and geese somewhere, retire at the age of forty because she was rich enough to. He wanted her to have those options, even if eventually she would leave this earth. His mouth opened to say something more, closed again - something was amiss. Footsteps, heavy ones, not discernible to most given the distance, but for Jonathan he heard them clear as day. Voices. Hushed whispers they thought no one could pick up on, but... “Someone’s coming, and I wasn’t expecting any other appointments,” he told Zelda. “Hide. Somewhere. Hurry.” Two peas in a pod, they were - because her mind contemplated similar things. Immortality was his to embrace, Vlad no longer had to worry about Jonathan’s humanity and the fragility it brought. Maybe he would have preferred him to stay human, to stay a reminder of who he was before the dreams brought him an unwilling change, but at least this way, they’d stay together. A romantic idea to sit on. It was appealing, if you conveniently disregarded the whole need to feed off human blood to survive aspect. This was a kind of change no one could control, but she worried about how much it would change him. Zelda had a difficult time viewing Jonathan as someone as distant and, well, sometimes even disconnected, as his significant other. Soon, she’d start getting the grey hairs and she’d name them all after her worries. Small talk was cut suspiciously short, and soon sensitive Hylian ears caught on to what he had sensed. People approaching, not knowing who, but times were risky and neither of them would play this recklessly. Um. Okay - hide? Zelda nodded, determined. Under the desk, then! Because that seemed like the most appropriate spot, it wasn’t free standing, and she was flexible enough to curl up under it and remain unmoving and barely breathing. “Try not to kick me,” she whispered. Then the doors opened. Not even a knock, how lovely, but two men emerged - and she didn’t even have to look to know that it was the same two men they saw during the Fashion Week Event. Call it a woman’s intuition. Quick like a bunny, Zelda was concealed. And Jonathan remained at his desk, the bottom part, convenient wooden panel, hiding the curled up princess - and granted, his legs were long but he was hyper-aware of her there so no danger of his foot meeting her ribcage or something. Hyper-aware as he was, however, he didn’t let it show on his face. “Gentlemen?” he greeted them questioningly, a lift of an eyebrow. Really rude to just stroll into his office unannounced, but he would let them have their moment of dickishness. “Is there something I can help you with?” The man with the long, pale face spoke up first. Snake eyes slitted, an air of superiority to him which came across in the deep voice, him and his pompous tone. “We’ve a simple business proposition to discuss with you today, Mr. Haker. May we sit?” “Actually - “ Too bad. Zant sat anyway, pointedly pulling out one of the chairs by the desk. Meanwhile, the other gentleman that accompanied him - olive skin, dark hair - was colored amused more than anything, his smile revealing the row of pearly whites that, in a trick of light, glistened like razors. “He’s having a bit of a day, do forgive him,” he greeted, words caressed by the ghost of an accent. He oozed a surprisingly good amount of charisma, but from underneath the desk, Zelda sensed the venom behind it - the killer midst of the kindness. Button of his sleeves properly adjusted, eyes glancing down at the much too expensive blood diamond watch trapping his wrist. Then, searching the inside of his suit jacket, he pulled out a business card and passed it over. “The company name’s familiar to you, I’m sure, considering your extensive amount of curiosity in regards to its original founder. Deceased, unfortunately. He was a good friend of mine.” Zelda’s nostrils flared and she very angrily rolled her eyes, but unfortunately the expression of rage was lost to everyone else in the room. Technically she wasn’t supposed to be there. Jonathan returned the charming smile, briefly, a flash of stark white fangs that could have just been extra long canines. Who knew, really - his own trick of the light at play. But they were sleek and deadly, now hidden, though just for a moment his tongue touched the tip of one. Contemplation. “Of course,” he spoke politely, taking the business card and giving it a lookover. “I believe I had heard that about the original owner. Very tragic.” Yes, he’d heard the story - and was planning to put away the designer suit wearing murderer dripping in blood diamonds for a long, long time. Prison was going to be rough, sir. Zant chuckled humorlessly. “You know what they say, Mr. Harker. Curiosity killed the cat. But I believe we can come to an understanding here today, yes?” Right. Sounded interesting. Curiousity would definitely kill the cat, is what this particular CEO really wanted to say but that’d be astoundingly rude, wouldn’t it? More rude than intruding into the lawyer’s office like they owned the place instead. Finally, the man sat down and crossed his ankle over his knee. “We find your sudden interest in my investments peculiar,” he began, fingers interlocked loosely before him. “Almost like you think there’s something filthy to uncover which, in a sense, is almost insulting.” His smile grew, a condescending way of informing him that he actually wasn’t offended. “Leads me to believe that you’ve a client that has some issues with us. A disgruntled employee, perhaps, or an old business partner. We don’t typically enjoy being involved in these kind of affairs, you see - it gets to the wrong ears, could be bad for the company. I’m sure we can settle on some sort of agreement? I’m sure we can offer you much more than what they are, if numbers are an issue.” It only took a second for his checkbook to come out, pen ready. “Name your price. I’d love to entertain it.” Zelda shifted slightly. Blonde hair became undone from the loose braid, tickled her nose, and she felt an incoming sneeze develop in the back of her nose - the kind of thing that had her in a quiet panic. But she covered her mouth and nose and tried to suppress it because she was not about to let a sneeze be the cause of a potential bloodbath. Alright. Time to nip this in the bud before it got ugly, and before it could escalate - he doubted the ‘meeting’ would last much longer, since both men seemed completely disinterested in small talk. Look at the way Suits n’Diamonds whipped out the checkbook, even. Jonathan was quite impressed - it was almost like he dropped his pants here in the office for a dick-measuring contest. “Something filthy to uncover, no, that’s not it at all,” he Something easy to pass off, in any case. If it came down to that, but let’s hope it didn’t. “Any ‘issues’ my client has, they’ll be placed on the table via the proper means and via the proper documents - anything else, I’m not really at liberty to discuss at the moment. Attorney-client privilege,” he clarified, with another smile - though one turned sympathetic this time, as if he was so sorry he couldn’t reveal much more than the law would allow. “Of course, as your colleague here has stated - we can reach an understanding, but simply during that particular time. Anything else - “ A pointed look at the checkbook and pen, poised and ready to write, “...won’t be necessary.” Zant pursed his lips, as he was wont to do - they were so thin anyway, it didn’t change his expression much, but those lips nearly disappeared. Got lost in the snowstorm of his bone-white face. Obviously he was displeased that the fresh meat lawyer was dismissing his Oh, this was ridiculous. There was very little chance to focus on the conversation while she did all she could to keep that pesky sneeze from surfacing and disrupting all this (the scandalous excuse for it hadn’t hit her), and she opted to hold her breath while her fingers desperately dug into Jonathan’s ankle. A way of somehow translating ‘remove them from this office before my sneezing ruins our entire lives, please and thank you.’ Curiously, Zant’s boss raised both his brows before those nearly pitch-black eyes slowly tightened. Money was often the solution to annoying problems, no one could ever really turn down a most generous check with a couple extra zeros scribbled on it but Mister Harker here was clearly playing some sort of game, and it made him wonder - who truly was behind this, to somehow claim the loyalty of a man with barely starting career in law? Either the young esquire was an idiot or there was something he wasn’t seeing. A hidden ace in the whole that disturbed him more than he cared to admit. Regardless, he got the message - it was a no. This millionaire didn’t accept answers like those very well. His features hardened and that smile faded into lips pressed thinly, jaw muscles tensing. “I see.” His pen tapped against his thick book of paper before he put it all away, in the infinite pockets of his blazer. “Well then, Mr. Harker, if you continue to pursue this, that is well and all. Expect contact from mine to yours shortly. I’m sure, regardless, this will end favorably for the both of us.” “Understandable, I’m sure. I’ll be expecting that contact, and vice versa. I expect everything to go smoothly, as I’m sure you’re a busy man. You both are busy men.” Far too busy to linger in the likes of this office, what a shame, time to go, too bad the criminals couldn’t stay for tea! With that, Jonathan stood, ready to (with a certain degree of refinement and manners) escort the ‘visitors’ to the door. Quickly, but not too quickly. He simply wanted to boot them out before Zelda’s head exploded from holding in her sneeze. Slithery, slippery Zant didn’t like this man - whereas his boss was more likely to play it cool and charming, the Usurper preferred to cut right down to brass tacks. Still, he managed to hold in his snarky quips as he adjusted his suit jacket and glided to the door, all while suspiciously watching Harker with those cold, endless black hole eyes. “We’ll be in touch,” he stated, then glanced his boss’s way to ensure their business was finished here. It wasn’t until she heard Jonathan close the door that Zelda surfaced like she’d been gasping for air, but that ‘gasp’ was actually replaced by a sneeze so explosive that it could wake the dead. Literally, it had built up while she did all she could to repress it but luckily it wasn’t all that messy and Jonathan had a box of tissues on his desk, what a dear. “I don’t know what surprises me more,” came her muffled voice from cleaning her nose. “The fact that they were actually here, or that my nose was about to make this entire situation ten times worse.” Didn’t that happen in movies or something silly like that? Someone’s hiding and something as simple as a sneeze gave away their location? Of course something like that would happen while she was in the same room as her father’s murderer and girlfriend’s terrorizer. Ah, what was that saying so commonly used? Oh, yes. Fuck my life. Once Zelda had used up the whole box of tissues (or half of it, maybe a quarter? That was an impressive sneeze, either way), Jonathan let out a whooosh of air and then rummaged for more of the coconut water to basically mainline the whole supply. It had been tempting to do something considered against the rules to Sleazeball 1 and 2 while they were here, but he felt it best to not rock the boat at this time. There would be plenty of opportunities for fully utilizing the advantages team Geek Squad possessed - preferably in the courtroom, where certain diamond-encrusted individuals would supposedly be under oath to not lie. Jonathan would make sure that the King of Liars physically could not, just enough to earn himself a nice stay in maximum security prison. “You knew they were going to try,” he shrugged, more like rolling his shoulders to dislodge the tension that had settled in and felt like concrete slabs. “But no amount of zeroes can dissuade me. We’re still in this together.” “I know,” she sighed, the reality of it all sinking into her skin and right into her very bones. How close she was to them again, with neither of them knowing how close she was to them. Maybe the sneezing had to do with an allergic reaction to scum and bullshit, who knew. It was yet another close call. Midna had intercepted last time and now Jonathan had - or, more accurately, his desk had. That almost-forgotten coconut water was picked up too so she could inhale it and rid herself of the desert in her mouth. It was half-empty by the time she pulled it from her lips and breathed. “You know they’re not going to take no for an answer.” Zelda’s brow creased. By now they probably knew where he lived, an idea of his routine, and sooner or later they’d link him to her and Impa. “How much longer, until we go public with this?” It was the one thing she dreaded, but it would guarantee them an impressive degree of safety. Jonathan opened his laptop again, scrolling through a few things and clicking here and there to obtain the answer Zelda wanted. “We just need to get through the preliminary hearing and the arraignment - in the first, that’s where the witnesses come in. Impa will probably need to testify then, especially since she was framed,” he said, brow furrowing. No, she wouldn’t enjoy that, but she had to know it was coming. “For the arraignment, Mr. Diamonds will clearly plead not guilty to the charges brought against him and then everything will go to trial to let a judge and jury decide. I say we tip off the media well before that, however - as soon as charges are brought against him, that’s when we need to have a cushion because he’ll surely have made the connection about who exactly is doing what.” Meaning, shit was going to hit the fan - even getting the shady-looking character to trial was going to be a task. No doubt he’d have high-powered attorneys of his own, partners from prestigious law firms, sharks out for blood swimming in a pool of legal professionals - likely they’d also believe that lowly Jonathan Harker was a minnow easily swallowed. But he was skilled; he’d be the dark horse winning this goddamn race. “So, not much longer at all. The media will be interested in a trial date - something for the public to eat up. They like that sort of thing.” A tentative timeline. A tentative timeline was good. Zelda followed his explanation with ease, another deep breath to still her mind - though her body was busy, pacing back and forth in his office, tugging on her fingers, bones cracking. Eventually she’d simmer down, but adrenaline had come into her blood from what had just happened only several moments ago. Another close-call with the men that had taken everything from her, from Impa, from Midna. One day they’d finally look at both of them. Straight in the eye. And then they’d know exactly who they messed with. “Would you mind coming over sometime soon? To tell Impa,” she began. “I’ll make dinner. I know your appetite’s changing, but I’ve seen Vlad eat steak, hm?” Barely cooked red meat on the plate seemed doable. “Impa needs to go into this prepared, completely, and...there’s no one to help her like you.” “Vlad eats, uh, human food sometimes,” Jonathan chuckled, leaning back in his chair, watching as Zelda paced to expel nervous energy. “It just doesn’t do much for him.” Mostly, it was like whipped air - not very nutritional. A vampire obviously required sustenance in other ways, and needed to satisfy those rather unorthodox cravings too. “But I’m still fine with essentially anything,” he promised. “So I’ll certainly come over for dinner. Tomorrow night, maybe? Or is that too soon?” While he may have had a loose schedule for court proceedings, he didn’t have one for the rest of his own transition. He’d promised that Vlad could have as much time as he personally needed to come to terms with this, and so Jonathan planned to give it to him. It wasn’t too much to ask, in the scheme of things. Zelda finally settled into the chair but the energy wasn’t completely dispensed. Fingers restlessly tapped against the armrest to continue the motions. “Tomorrow’s perfect, actually,” sighed the princess, leaning back and sort of melting into the seat. “Maybe just the three of us, for now - Impa sees Wendy and Midna and her worry for them’s going to make her emotions skyrocket. Protective mother feelings, I guess, for the both of them too.” Then another get-together with the other ladies involved, so everyone was on the same page. “Is there anything you need me to give to Wendy, by the way? Anything she needs to do for you?” Ah, yes. Their dutiful Wendy Darling. “She’ll need to create an index of all the exhibits - documents, emails, audio tapes, photographs, even physical objects,” Jonathan clarified. “A minimum of three copies for each exhibit. For the index, I trust her to know how to make it organized by author and date and such, but it should start now so she can add to it instead of handling it all at once.” Then he reached into one of the file drawers and pulled out an abundance of folders - all stacked neatly for Zelda, stuffed to the brim with paper. “Have her make copies of these first. For electronic documents, the rules differ by jurisdiction. Overall though, I think we’ll end up with thousands of pages here. But who better than to keep track of it all than her, right?” He knew that was why Zelda had asked for Wendy’s help in the first place - it was the paralegal’s job to help ensure the trial went smoothly. Nothing looked worse than an attorney who didn’t know where his or her shit was, and had to fumble in the middle of the courtroom. Zelda herself was a rather tidy, mostly organized person but everything Jonathan had repeated back to her sounded utterly intimidating. But she was also confident that no other person aside from Miss Darling herself (Pinterest Guru and Scone Maker Extraordinaire) could take all that and make it a picture-perfect example of exactly what he’d need. Index of all the exhibits. “Got it,” she confirmed, reaching over to grab the folders. So much paper in her hands, it felt like she was carrying a bag of rocks, weighing her down. “Wendy’s very thorough. Maybe even a bit anal retentive.” A giggle with her mouth curved into a smile. “I’m sure she’ll have this taken care of efficiently.” Hell, she’d help! It’d keep her busy and make her familiar with every aspect, too. Zelda wanted to know all that went on, so maybe it was a project she’d help her oldest friend with. Assuming she wouldn’t get in Wendy’s way, of course. Last thing she wanted to do was interrupt the flow of professionals. “Paperwork will be taken care of, then...tomorrow. Six in the evening good for you? I can pick us up some sushi from our favorite place, a bottle of plum wine?” While he could enjoy it. Before the beast inside finally took over, and they couldn’t really have that anymore. If only everything could be electronic these days, when it came to the courts, but no. Reams of paper were generated, shat out of law firms daily, and paper was the name of the game. But Jonathan was certain that whatever system they worked out would be more than adequate. Lives were at stake here, literally! “Six it is. Plum wine and sushi sounds great.” Then he moved to help Zelda with the entire planet’s worth of paper he just gave her; he’d get the door, if nothing else. “Just no garlic...if you don’t mind,” he added. Potentially, it would kill him. That would be very inconvenient. Oh. Right. Yes, garlic. It was important to make a very bold and mental note about that, mark that with a golden star and a couple lines underneath it for emphasis. NO GARLIC. Add a couple exclamation points at the end too, maybe? “No garlic,” she promised, adjusted the heap of paperwork in one arm briefly, so she could at least give him a half-sort of hug-squeeze thing. And a kiss to the cheek for her dear friend. “Thank you. I don’t think I say it enough. But also, thank you - for not taking their money.” Zelda knew he wouldn’t. But it was nice to verbally announce how glad she was for it. Jonathan stooped to receive that kiss, since he was a redwood tree, basically. And he smiled, something genuine that wasn’t all fake pleasantries and charm-for-charm to match the slithering snakes who had burst into his office unannounced in an attempt to buy him out. “Thank you’s are unnecessary, but at any rate, you’re welcome.” Money was money; sure, it was useful to have, but it couldn’t compare to this. Even if things were changing for him, in a way that he couldn’t really even begin to control, it still couldn’t compare. He knew what was important, and he knew he’d hold onto that. Very tightly. |