ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ (twili) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-10-20 08:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, dracula, midna |
Who: Midna & Vlad (with a final guest appearance by Zant)
What: Midna asks for some ~support~ as she finally carries out her vendetta against the Usurper King
When: Late Monday
Where: Zant's flashy casino
Rating/Warnings: Kinda high - there's NPC death (via Midna's crazy hair and also vampire teeth) and FEELS
Status: Complete
What exactly does a person wear for a murder? One of those unanswered questions. But Midna felt as if she did a splendid job with the answer - the dress was one of the figure-hugging kinds, black leather and striking, with a sweetheart neckline, belted, not to mention super sultry and exposed the tribal tattoos on her arms. It worked, for the environment of this place - the casino where Zant had his dirty little operations set up. Down in the basement, in the dregs of the building, no doubt she’d find him there, surrounded by the minions he managed to acquire and dealing in all things shadowy and shady. The Usurper King. About to face his reckoning, and he had no idea exactly what was coming for him. Or who. Into the lounge-space on the first floor Midna sauntered, all that glowing marble and glass, plush couches that were cozy and occupied. In the distance the sounds of gambling, the ping of slot machines, the shuffling of cards and the excited thrum of voices all mixed together - some in elation, some teeming with despair over having gambled away their kids college fund - could be heard clearly; but they blended in. Midna, and her very handsomely dead companion here. She picked up the dirty martini she’d ordered from a waiter passing by and and downed it quickly. “Bet he bought this place with the money he extorted from me,” she huffed, dryly amused. “It’s so....slimy.” Well, that was Zant in general anyway. Funny enough, Vlad had also wondered what one wore for murder. In the end, he realized it wouldn't be all that different from his usual attire - it was simply a matter of what he was more willing to possibly ruin with blood. In the end it was a navy suit, the sort with a subtle plaid in faint grey lines. No tie. No need to get too dressed up. His primary function was moral support and to make sure Midna wasn't the one about to meet an untimely end. Vlad had more than enough faith she could handle it on her own. Vlad also had come to find that he wouldn't be so happy if that wasn't case. He stayed close by. Unblinking emerald eyes saw everything, ears heard everything. He immediately found a dislike for the smell. It was probably not all that pleasant for a normal person, but Vlad picked up an unappetizing potpourri of alcohol, sweat, stale smoke clinging to jackets, and the unmistakable odor of old blood. Stains that probably couldn't wash out so they were covered up. "Slimy?" His brow creased as he looked at her. "I do not know this word." Old blood was right. Who the hell knew what had gone on in this casino - what dirty secrets it contained in the floorboards, the hidden crevices, even behind the walls. No wonder Midna felt squicked out. “Slimy...you know...” She tried to think of the Arabic word for it. The best one she could come up with was, “...zalaq,” she added, which meant ‘slippery.’ And was sort of similar too - but judging by the look on her face, she was proud that she’d managed to find the correct substitution in the foreign language she was dutifully studying. “Gives you that creepy feeling, all up and down your spine. Though you probably don’t get that. You are the creepy spine-walker.” She said it fondly, of course, as she set down her empty martini glass and straightened her shoulders. “Alright, let’s head down. Sources tell me he’s holed up in a closed-off, guarded area. But I’m betting guards won’t pose a problem.” Vlad nodded his understanding. Slimy. He would remember to ask Jonathan for a Romanian alternative for the word, too. But his lips quirked up, a smile accented by white and fangs. He was the shiver down a spine on a black night. With any luck, that could prove some advantage to Midna on her current mission. His ears found the men they were seeking. He could hear them, an echo beneath the noise that was filtered. “No, it will not be a problem.” Vlad was a man used to getting what he wanted, after all, and Midna would get what she wanted as an extension of that. He walked with her, a ghostly shadow at her side, stride full of purpose and exuding the air of you don’t wanna fuck with us. Midna was tall, somewhat imposing, probably looked even more so due to being inked. But regardless, next to Vlad...well, shall we say that he was the one invoking most of the chills. They were both meant to walk in the shadows, to be one with them - perhaps that’s why she had taken a liking to him, and at his general intimidating demeanor she might have even swooned, you know, if she didn’t think of him as a paternal sort of figure. Her own father would never have done this for her - she had barely spoken to her family in years, anyway. But hopefully once Zant was disposed of, that could be fixed. Putting the pieces back together again. To get to the basement, it required taking a special elevator. Technically she didn’t have access, but that didn’t matter. She’d gotten the passcode beforehand and ding, the doors split open when they reached their destination. Time for murder. But first she focused her efforts, staying out of sight, and shot a blast of energy at the security camera hidden up in a corner of the ceiling. It sizzled and scorched, smoke coming from the now-destroyed device. Perfect. Of course, they were stopped by two men blocking the entrance to Zant’s office further down the hall. “This area’s closed off,” one grumbled suspiciously, beady eyes flitting back and forth between the newcomers. Vlad’s eyebrow arched at Midna’s little display of property damage, but said nothing. He already knew there were men waiting to get in their way, but he was sure that Midna knew that, too. You didn’t need vampire senses to know when there would be guards or lookouts. But down the hall they want, Vlad’s stride effortless, shoes making no sound. He thought for a moment it would be nicer if it were dark. The lighting down here was patchy, but where it worked, the fluorescent whiteness of the bulbs irritated him. His mood, then, was already on the downswing by the time they met the beady eyed duo. “I think you will find that very little is closed off to my companion and I,” was Vlad’s smooth reply. If you knew Vlad, it would probably be enough to inspire panic. As far as these gentlemen were concerned, there was no malice behind it. In fact, one even snorted, because this snobby European in his fitted suit and immaculate hair and strange accent who used words like companion and no contractions could hardly be any actual threat at all. Vlad watched that entire thought play out on the man’s face. His tongue ran over a pointed fang, eyes shifting to glance at Midna. Vlad was a proper gentleman. Easy as it would be to get them out of the way (break necks, drink, kill, dominate), this was Midna’s vendetta. Not his. The dragon could wait, like an attack dog waiting for a sign from its master. She may not even need that help. The Twilight Princess enjoyed Vlad’s response, was tickled by it actually, but Guard 1 and 2 (soon to be deceased) looked less than amused. They even laughed, because who the hell did these assholes think they were, trying to barge in on the big boss man like they were hot shit? “I think you will find that neither of us give a fuck,” spoke the snorting guard. “Now beat it.” Instead of doing just that, Midna watched them with glittering crimson eyes. She smiled a bit, slowly, it was all sweet poisonous honey as her hair began to resemble something straight from mythology - like Medusa’s snakes, it twisted and writhed, the bright orange locks, and one particularly venomous lashing out, a whiplash of a crack, meant that she’d grabbed the man and hurled him backward, the force snapping his neck. That’s when the second’s face paled, all that bravado slipping away. “No, no, wait - “ Or not. Have at it, Vlad. Midna and Vlad. Two of the reasons you had to check under your bed for monsters at night. Midna was full of surprises, but Vlad was a traditionalist. With so many ways to kill a man with his own bare hands, he went for the old faithful of vampire moves. In a blur he was behind the man, fingers in his hair, exposing all those vulnerable veins in the neck. There was no time for a scream. A horrified gurgle was all the man got before the bite, a bite intended to kill and only kill, and the body was pushed to the ground. The pocket square in Vlad’s jacket was dark red (chosen on purpose). He pulled it out and wiped the blood from his mouth, but the stains in his jacket were there if you looked for them. Red eyes faded back to green as Vlad reached for the door that had been poorly blocked from them. “Ladies first,” he said, turning the handle to open it. “Thank you,” Midna responded politely, even with a dignified sort of lady-curtsy as she stepped over the dead body (she’d take care of that later) in her substantial heels, which added a couple inches to her already Amazonian-esque height. Into the office they went, and it was very tastefully decorated, she discovered, as she had a quick look around. Oak furniture, sleek and shiny, plush carpets, probably even solid gold drawer handles and shit. Wow, Zant was living the good life, wasn’t he? Must be nice, rolling around in all that extorted money while Midna formerly waited tables and took off her clothes for salivating denizens just so she could buy enough ramen noodles to eat that week. He recognized her right away, of course, bolting up from his large desk (likely it compensated for other small packages), those black eyes of his widening in surprise. “You little bitch,” he spat. Deep voice, a snarl, and he was almost as pale as Vlad - whom his alien-like features shifted to, taking in the sight of the man. “And who are you?” It was very nice. Even Vlad had to admire the office, but he found the gold a bit obnoxious. Better gold than silver, though, otherwise this would have gone completely not as planned. He’d finished shutting the door behind them, locking it for good measure, turning his stony gaze on the man Midna had come here to end. “Such manners,” he chided, more to himself and Midna. It made Vlad huff out a breath. “That, I believe, is not an important matter at this time.” Walls had ears. Vlad wouldn’t be stupid enough to mention his name at all, because the last thing anyone needed in the midst of everything happening with Jonathan and Zelda was a scandal involving a foreign dignitary. “I believe this young lady has some business she needs to settle with you.” “Ah.” Zant chuckled humorlessly. “I know who you are now.” It was a chiding remark, laced with madness - the insanity that Midna had known, and faced down, in her dreams. Most of the Twili were content with who and what they were, they accepted themselves. Some were driven into a whole big pot of crazy because of being banished to the shadows by those who ruled the Light World - Zant was one of those people. His narcissism, lust for power, and megalomania all were the causes of his downfall - the Usurper King taken out. Just as it would be here. Midna stepped forward, because she wasn’t afraid of him anymore. And she wasn’t going to let him hold that over her either. “Don’t say another word, Zant - “ “Just as foolish as ever. So easy to take advantage of. It was like snatching candy from a baby, and your own family didn’t even care that you left them.” Fallen starlet, come to look tough. How utterly adorable. Then his frigid, arctic smile turned on the pale(r) guest in his office. “Your lawyer made the wrong decision,” Zant sighed, as if it pained him. “He should have taken the deal, you know. But don’t worry. We’ll mail you back his remains in a ziploc bag, as a courtesy.” Sweet of them, right? Vlad’s contentment to stand back and linger in the shadows while Midna did what she had to do shattered in an instant. His eyes narrowed, the monster stirred. This man belongs to me echoing again, because who gave this lowly creature the right to speak of Jonathan. Teeth were primed for the kill, but, if left to his own devices, Vlad wouldn’t be so kind as to kill Zant so swiftly. At his side, Vlad’s slim fingers clenched into a fist. His feet brought him forward even though he restrained himself. “You speak very bravely for a man who stands on death’s door.” The feigned politeness had gone. The other worldliness had settled into Vlad’s smooth voice, dripping old country superstition. The creepy-crawly spine tingling quality Midna had mentioned not so long ago. Midna didn’t stop him, but she stepped forward too - statuesque and imposing in her own way, her and Vlad would back Zant into a corner like an animal. “You don’t know shit,” she hissed at her enemy - because like hell she’d this scum talk about her that way, talk about her friend that way. They were all in this together. And Jonathan was going to put away Dragmire for a long, long time - Zant just wouldn’t be alive to see it. “Oh really?” Not like Zant would just let himself be backed into a corner, however. He went for the gun in his desk; it was loaded, and he aimed it at Midna, back and forth between her and her companion - which one to kill initially? “I know that I plan to shoot you first, you washed up whore.” But he didn’t get a chance to. Just as she had in her dreams, Midna reacted in a rage. When he called her a traitor. When he claimed that her curse would never be broken, that his master (Ganon) would resurrect him - all she saw was a lust for power in his pupils; it was why no one would ever accept him as their King. Her hair formed a spear that was as sharp as any finely-crafted medieval weapon - it shot forward, magic of her shadow people aglow around her when she impaled him. Only he wasn’t magic himself, in this world - he didn’t poof off into black dust. The sound was a squish of the makeshift weapon stabbing through him from chest to spine and then retreating, blood pooling, his mouth falling open. He collapsed to the ground, a look of frozen shock on his face, the gun clattering to the floor. Dead. Vlad snorted, a derisive sound. If they had the means, he’d impale the man again, put him on display. But, alas. He turned to Midna, expression softening a little. “Is there anything else you need to do while we are here?” A part of him wanted to congratulate her on the job well done. Some people may not like that, and everyone was different, he learned, after killing. Vlad was desensitised to it. Midna may wish to move on. It was done. The whole thing was finished. Zant’s ‘reign of terror,’ so to speak; he wasn’t going to hold anything over her head anymore, he couldn’t blackmail anymore, couldn’t extort money from her anymore, he wasn’t going to ruin her anymore. Nor was he working with Dragmire anymore - this would send a message, no doubt, but as far as she was concerned? There wasn’t even going to be a body to find. Vlad’s question brought her back to the moment. She shook her head, clearing the haze. “Can you...lift him? And the guards too.” It made more sense when the ground around her began to glow too - lines and shapes formed, squiggling to and fro, the luminescence of electric jade, a replica image of the tribal markings on her skin. Then the portal split open, a swirling black hole that led to...darkness. And an excellent place to toss dead bodies, if she said so herself. Unblinking eyes watched the floor change and split. It didn’t faze Vlad. At this point, it was likely that very little out there could. Besides, it was interesting. In his original dreams, his history had involved black magic, this would surely have been a delightful sight to that Dracula. At Midna’s question, Vlad shrugged. Easy enough. Wordlessly, he left the room, and when he returned he was dragging Midna’s victim in while his own was slumped over a shoulder. Into the awaiting darkness they went, one after the other. Zant didn’t get such consideration. Vlad merely pressed the toe of his leather shoe against the body, nudging it and rolling it until Zant disappeared the way of his guards. “Do you feel satisfied with tonight’s events?” he asked, speaking at last. The bodies disappeared, one by one, into the portal - which then closed, sealed off. Nothing would be found. Missing persons, if Dragmire even cared enough to look into it when it came to his minion Zant - but Midna doubted it. There might be a moment of rage when he realized that his friend wasn’t coming back, but what happened to him would remain a mystery. She thought about Vlad’s question, once it was all taken care of, and a whoosh of air escaped her. “Yes...” The realization dawned on her - along with the sense that this chapter was closed, there was also relief. “I am.” And she knew Vlad didn’t like all that touchy-feely shit but she was grateful and she wanted to show it. So she hugged him tightly; it was comforting despite how cold he was. “Thank you,” her voice was a little quavery, sniffling against his shoulder, but she was mostly overtaken by emotion when it came to how glad she was that he was there. The hug took Vlad by surprise, but he didn’t stumble or step back. He stood like a statue, then, after a moment of hesitation, brought his arms up to hug Midna in turn. He put a hand on the back of her head, like a father might do to a child, and he found he didn’t dislike it. Midna had good friends. They could guide her course as well as anyone, but there would be times - times like this, perhaps only times like this - where she would need someone else. Vlad could do that. “Say nothing of it,” he said, in response. As close to a you’re welcome as she would get. “Come. Let us go from this place. There is no need to dwell any longer this part of the past.” “No, the past is in the past. I’d rather leave it there, and look forward to the future now,” Midna said, with a lift of her chin in a sense of solid resolution. Maybe she could even see her family again, now that she no longer had to hide in shame. She could introduce Zelda to them, and the thought made her happy - best part about all this, though, was that she wasn’t alone anymore. She wasn’t running, she could stop and take a breath and just live her life without looking over her shoulder in fear. Then she took a step back, infamous impish grin on her face, her hands still on Vlad’s shoulders. “You trust me, right?” Another portal opened, beneath their feet, a squiggle of green and black lines that steadily began to glow until the ground split open. But this wasn’t a portal to darkness, or the unknown - instead, this one would take them home. |