Henry Townshend is a ghost magnet (room_302) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-03-08 09:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, henry townshend, midna |
Who: Henry and Midna
What: Out for some light-hearted fun
When: After Henry is rescued - shortly after the HG plot
Where: A nice tiki bar with awesome drinks
Ratings/Warnings: Low - a little language and a lot of booze
Status: Complete!
There really wasn’t a better ‘life-affirming’ celebration than one involving booze - at least, according to Midna’s own personal life philosophies. And she was very rarely wrong, naturally. So, to get Henry back into the land of the living after he’d been accosted by Mohawk and Friends (sharing one brain cell), and force fed the cat food known as Taco Bell, she decided she’d take him to one of her favorite bars. Something fun and light-hearted, yeah? Because they didn’t need snooty, or trashy - they needed colorful, vibrant, and probably a little kitschy in a good way. Leave it to a little Polynesian bar by Disneyland’s hotel, in Anaheim, to have that vibe going exactly right.
It was relaxing, mostly. They sat outside with the palm trees, the tiki torches, and soft Hawaiian music in the air around them. There was food too, so Midna ordered the pu-pu platter (barely even snickering at the name, thanks) which came with chicken wings, sausage, fried green beans, maybe some cole slaw? The drinks in general were fruity and just as fun as the atmosphere, often available in souvenir cups, though the bar could basically make anything. But why drink paint thinner when you could drink something that actually tasted good?
She figured Henry would like the atmosphere of this place. His Hawaiian shirt, the one he’d been wearing when he was rescued, kind of tipped her off to that.
“So, how have you been? No more weird shit for now?” she asked, once she’d ordered her boozy punch with all the bells and whistles.
Tiki torches and fruity drinks were exactly what the doctor ordered. Well, that’s what Henry assumed anyway. It wasn’t as if he had actually gone to a doctor. What had been the need? The only injuries he had really sustained had been a bump on the head and a bruise on the side of his face that looked worse than it actually was. His body had been sore for a while, but that was basically it. Besides, Henry knew enough first aid to adequately take care of himself. Physically, at least. Mentally was another matter altogether.
He was starting to process what had happened. It was a slow process, but Kenzi’s visit had helped it along. She reminded Henry that Lady Mohawk’s death could be viewed as a public service for the greater good and that Henry himself was incredibly lucky. He hadn’t lost any body parts, and his friend had come to his rescue. It was that last part that Henry was having the hardest time with. Being used as leverage, having his life used as a bargaining chip, really kind of sucked.
A trip to a light-hearted bar that served pu-pu platters (Henry did snicker a little at the name, how could you not?) and brightly colored drinks with exotic sounding names was perfect. He ordered the weirdest sounding drink on the menu. It came out to him in a glass that looked as though it could double as a fishbowl and a color that probably didn’t occur in nature.
“No more weird shit,” Henry answered, paused, and then amended, “well, no new weird shit. Same old weird shit.” He was trying very hard to not stare at Midna’s hair, but was finding it equally hard not to. So, he trained his eyes on his fancy looking drink. He took a sip and…holy crap! The bar didn’t skimp on the alcohol. This was fantastic!
Hell no, this bar didn’t skimp on the booze. That was exactly why Midna picked it - and if Henry wanted to get completely fucking wasted, then why not? She could always portal them home, and they wouldn’t have to worry about driving or cab fare. “Yeah, I guess living here is one instance of weird shit after another,” she grinned, the expression reaching hazel eyes, a mish-mosh of green and brown, that were perfectly glamoured. Red-orange hair was pulled back into a braid she wore over her shoulder, and she had no plans to impale anyone tonight. Unless they bothered her or her companion here.
“I remember when I first started dreaming. Then I lost my reflection, so that was kind of a good intro,” she mused, sipping from the gigantic, Polynesian-inspired glass. “But it’s like everyone says, you don’t want to leave. Some people do, but eh. I’m happy for the most part. I found a lot of opportunity here.”
She’d reunited with an old flame, been inspired to learn Arabic, found a new job as a personal assistant to Dracula. Sure beat managing a strip club though she’d always have a fondness for The Rear End.
Henry listened intently as he sucked down his exotic and super-tasty drink. He nodded in agreement. Living here was basically one weird event after another. Although, if Henry were to say, being kidnapped was probably the most “normal” thing that had happened to him over the past year. That is, if you didn’t count Midna coming in like a superhero and flinging green fire around and using her hair as a weapon. Yup, that was basically his life now.
He paused drinking long enough to ask: “You lost your reflection?” Amber eyes looked at her with interest behind stray strands of light brown hair. Both brows were raised. Losing your reflection sounded like a story. Hell, everything about Midna sounded like a story. “Why? Did you get it back? What about...you know…” he held up one of his hands and made a pew-pew noise.
Henry wasn’t usually this chatty with someone he barely knew. It must be the drink talking. Or, you know, the fact Midna had saved his life.
Aw, Henry was cute. Not just in a ‘I want to pinch his cheeks’ sort of way - but just genuinely a nice, good person who didn’t ask for the whole boatload of shit that seemed to have been dumped on him. People who stayed true to themselves and remained decent even after the trials and tribulations they went through, that was probably one of the bravest things anyone could do - it didn’t take much to just say ‘fuck it’ and become an asshole.
“It was sort of the first thing that happened in terms of changing into my dream self, who is not human,” she explained, taking a couple fried green beans and another chicken wing, depositing everything on her smaller plate. They needed the sustenance, especially if they were going to be drinking a lot. “I’m a shadow person, technically. Am comprised of shadows, live in the shadows, wield shadow magic. So I lost my reflection, and light used to make me shrivel up and die but luckily it doesn’t anymore ‘cause some shit happened. But as for the other stuff - “
The pew-pew type things which was funny, because who called it that? Though it was kind of fitting, she guessed. Throwing green fire was good in a situation which called for battle.
“It all came gradually. File it under the magic of my people - the Twili people. We were banished to our realm of perpetual twilight for trying to bite off more than we could chew in terms of coveting power. Most shadow people adapted, they accepted it as time went on. But others, living in darkness for so long, they went mad. Zant was one of those people.”
Henry listened with rapt attention. He had assumed the moment he saw Midna that she wasn’t human. He had first thought maybe she was an alien. Aliens were a thing around here. Cindy was married to one - Henry had photographed the wedding and everything! And aliens could be super heroes - which was the second thing he had assumed Midna to be given her appearance and powers. Being a shadow person, however, seemed more interesting in the fact that you just didn’t hear about shadow people. Like. At all. Ever.
Being made up of shadows explained how Midna had literally come out of no where the other night to fuck up all kinds of shit. Being a shadow person and being able to travel in the shadows unseen sounded like a pretty neat power to Henry. It was something he would love to be able to do. Like, when he’s in some kind of social interaction and things suddenly go south - bam - shadows and he’s gone. It would also come in handy in his dreams. Shadows were fucking everywhere in the nightmarish abandoned landscapes he traveled to. If he had Midna’s powers, he could just live there. Screw trying to get out of his apartment. He could survive off of sniffer dogs. They probably would taste ok.
Hearing about Midna’s people was especially fascinating and Henry was practically on the edge of his seat listening, absently munching on chicken wings and draining his glass as though it were the nectar of the gods. When she paused, he jumped in. “Who banished your people?” He asked without thinking. “Were you shadow people before you got banished or did you turn into shadow people because of the twilight realm? Did you get the powers when you became shadow people or did you have them before? Who was Zant?”
So many questions! And that was a long story, but Midna would answer as best she could - she’d weave a tale like an intricate tapestry, because hey, it was interesting stuff. But first she snagged a waitress and ordered them more drinks - those were necessary if they were going to talk about the dreams at all. Hers weren’t awful, but she had did, after all. She’d almost lost everything.
“Long ago there was a war,” she started. “My people, waaaay back when, they were called the Interlopers who excelled in the use of dark magic. They attempted to gather the combined power of something called the Triforce - each piece can only be wielded by who the Gods choose - but it didn’t go so well. They were banished for the way they craved this power, because they wished to use it to conquer the Light World. Eventually the Interlopers became the Twili, and that’s how they evolved. They made their own way in their new world, a way of life for themselves.”
She took a sip of her drink before continuing, kind of slurping on it, because she was at the bottom of the glass. But never fear, a refill would be coming soon! “The Twilight Realm is ruled by a King or Queen. Me, the Twilight Princess, was slated to become the next ruler but Zant - he was a disgruntled royal servant - was drunk on the chance to steal the throne and take over the Light World like how our ancestors wanted all that time ago. So he got himself allied with a man who believed himself to be a God, and hoarded all this power. It didn’t work out for him, because I took my kingdom back in the end.”
Not sure if that made her a superhero, but she’d definitely done it to save her world - Midna didn’t wish to see her people turned into shadow beasts and corrupted by a crazed lunatic.
Henry listened with all the awe of a child as Midna told her tale. The food was completely forgotten in front of him and he didn’t even notice his empty glass had been replaced by a fresh new one - although he did absently reach for the drink and started in on it without even realizing what he was drinking. His head was starting to get a little fuzzy, but that did very little to distract him.
“Wow,” he said breathlessly when Midna had finished. Midna’s story was better than any fairytale Henry had ever heard in his life. Complete with a king and a queen and she, an actual princess - that made two princess Henry had met now - and a disillusioned severant bent on conquering the world and in the end a happy ending with Midna victorious and the kingdom saved. “Are you still dreaming?” He asked curioiusly.
“Nah, they’re done,” she shrugged, but she was smiling - there may have even been a pleased flush on her pretty, so very human features because she sort of liked storytelling more than she thought she would. Maybe she had a knack for it? Or it was just that she enjoyed sharing that rich history with people. “I mean, I’m pretty sure they are. I haven’t had any new ones in awhile, just repeats. But they ended kind of in a bittersweet way - the only link between the shadow and light worlds was something called the Mirror of Twilight, and I shattered it before going back to my own kingdom because light and shadow can’t mix. Or at least, I thought so at the time.”
Now, she wasn’t so sure. There was something to that whole notion of shadow and light being part of the same coin, that one couldn’t exist without the other.
“But what about you?” she asked, picking up her second drink to sip from the straw. “Your dreams are still going on? At least you know you’ve got people to help, like me, when they get extra shitty.”
Henry was disappointed that Midna’s Dreams had stopped. They made for a terrific story, and it would have been nice for Midna to enjoy a little Happily Ever After. The mirror intrigued him. It sounded a little bit like the hole in his bathroom wall.
“Mine are still going on,” he said with a slight nod, “and they’re not really as good a story as yours are. I mean, I don’t understand what’s going on in them or why. I moved into this apartment, was there for two years and then suddenly one day my door is chained shut from the inside. ‘Don’t go out. Walter’ is written on it in red. I think it’s supposed to be blood, but I’m not sure. It’s not drippy or anything so it may just be sharpie for all I know. I’m trapped in there for a week and no one notices. No one can hear me banging on the door or shouting. My windows don’t open and no one hears me banging on them either. In fact, I don’t even think my neighbors across the courtyard can even see me. I can see them - and they’re weird. There’s this one guy who spends the day playing air guitar. The phone doesn’t work and I don’t have a cell phone or a computer so I’m completely cut off from everything and everyone.
“Then one day a hole opened up in my bathroom wall.” Henry shook his head. “Same hole that’s in my bathroom wall here. It leads me to these really weird abandoned worlds that are dark and creepy and full of monsters who like to chew on me and ghosts who want to stick their hands in me for some reason. And I meet people there, but they always die and I wake up back in the apartment again. Everytime someone dies a new hand print appears on the wall outside my apartment door. I can see it through the peephole. No one else notices it. The super was by once and he didn’t notice it. And my neighbor is sometimes out there too, but she doesn’t look like she notices it either.”
Henry sighed and picked up one of the chicken wings. “I don’t know what the point of it all is. Right now the world I’m in is this...prison, out in the middle of nowhere. Like, I don’t know if it’s in the middle of the ocean or what, but there’s nothing but fog all around it. Inside is dark and damp and covered in giant leeches and these things on stalks that hiss at me until I kill them. I found a journal and I guess kids were kept there once and someone was spying on them. And there’s this fat guy locked in a cell that I’m trying to free and another guy with long hair chasing me with a gun.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it. I guess maybe I think if I can solve all the puzzles eventually I’ll be let out of the apartment.”
Well, damn. Midna knew that Henry’s shit dream was kind of outrageous, but that all just seemed hopeless. Who would want to experience that, night after night? Especially when it seemed like a circle of despair, chasing around and around without any light or better days in sight.
“So you always end up alone?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Like, that’s the theme? Being by yourself? Which sucks, because humans aren’t meant to be alone. We need people to thrive and all that.” There was that saying ‘no man is an island,’ and she thought it was true. You’d go insane without interaction - Midna hoped that wouldn’t happen to Henry, in his dreams. Here, it definitely wouldn’t - there were people who would care if anything happened to him.
Henry nodded. “I try to help the people I find in these places. I tried to help Cynthia find a way out of the subway, but she was stabbed to death right before we could get out. I solved a puzzle for Jasper in the forest and he set himself on fire. And Andrew DeSalvo. I’m trying to get him out of the jail cell, but I know when I do he’s going to end up dead too. They all do. But I can’t leave him in the cell.” Henry sighed and reached for his glass, which he found empty. He frowned at it as if someone had stolen his alcohol.
“So, yeah, that’s the theme,” Henry said, sliding his disappointingly empty glass away from him. “And the fog that came through in January really drove that home. I know I’m not alone here. The monster the fog made for me made me realize that. I have friends here I don’t have in the Dreams. Friends I never had before. Like Revy. I’ve never had anyone back me up like she does.” He chuckled ironically. “It’s kinda funny. When I joined the network I got these dreams of being alone, but if I hadn’t joined the network, I probably would be in real life.”
“Yeah, even though it seems thankless, or pointless, whatever - it’s like you still have to do all you can to help people. Or you won’t be able to forgive yourself.” Midna understood that - she understood how others crawled under your skin, and besides, even if they were complete strangers? It was a matter of being a decent human being - most decent ones wouldn’t just leave someone to die; we had a natural instinct to help, and protect.
Unless you were truly some kind of self-serving sociopath, but even a jaded soul like the Twilight Princess had met people who inspired her to want to believe in the best of humanity.
Henry was chugging the booze like a champ, so Midna decided to order them another round. Live and drink freely! “I think most of us end up being glad about our decision to join the network,” she said thoughtfully. “If I hadn’t, I would still be human, sure - but I also would still be working as a stripper and going nowhere.”
“And you wouldn’t be able to shoot fire out of your hands,” Henry pointed out helpfully. His was definitely feeling the affects of the drinks. Along with a pleasant fuzziness in his head, his face was a little numb and he was becoming increasingly chatty. He liked Midna, he realized, and he was happy that she wasn’t a stripper anymore - assuming of course she hadn’t liked being a stripper. Some people did, who was Henry to judge? He worked a porn studio, after all, and the actors there were perfectly nice people who enjoyed their work. Actually, it was probably one of the best gigs he’d ever had just for the people he worked with. So long as Midna was happy with whatever she was doing, then Henry was happy.
“I’m glad I joined,” he said. “If I hadn’t, I’d probably still be working for the Picture Palace-” he said the name with as much affection as one would have for getting a root canal “and I wouldn’t be getting as much freelance work. I might be able to actually open my own studio before I retire. I mean, we have to deal with some pretty messed up stuff, but...I don’t know...it’s kinda worth it.” So long as no one Henry knew died here.
The exotic drink had also, apparently, made him hungry. As if remembering the food was there, he had dived right in, eating chicken wings and sausage as if it was going out of style. “What is it you do now?” He asked after he’d cleared out a mouthful.
True. Midna definitely liked being able to shoot green energy from her hands - she was able to do a hell of a lot, thanks to her piece of the Triforce, but she wanted to be smart about using her gifts. Power could corrupt people easily, it was a lesson she’d seen others learn firsthand - those of the Twilight realm understood what desperation could do to a person, what coveting too much meant. Never anything good.
And she hadn’t minded being a stripper - she loved to dance, mainly, which was why she was still doing it part time at Victrola. But it just wasn’t a career, and it was about time she settled and thought about the future, because it crept up on you faster than you anticipated. “I’m a personal assistant, for a friend of mine,” she said, her cheeks flushed due to the alcohol, the heat, the pleasant vibe and that tingly feeling drinking imbibed into your veins. “He’s a diplomat, basically - at the Romanian Consulate? Actually, he’s on the network too, if you know Dracula.”
Most had people heard of him, at least.
“Anyway, I organize his life and schedule and go to the fancy events he doesn’t want to attend. I also am a Burlesque dancer, at a place called Victrola but I only do that part time, just because dancing is freedom and expression for me. Kinda like how picture taking is for you! Which you should totally keep saving for your own studio,” she added, nudging Henry gently. “It’ll happen really soon, I bet. I can even see if Chuck needs promotional pics taken for the club since it only opened a couple months ago.”
Henry was no literary buff (honestly the highest form of literature he ever read was James Patterson novels, and car and photography magazines), but he knew exactly who Dracula was. Who didn’t?!
He stared at Midna unsure of what was more amazing, the fact that she was a diplomat’s assistant – which was pretty high on the list of Top Professional Careers – or the fact that she worked for Dracula. He continued to stare for another few moments before his brain managed to cut through a bit of that alcohol fuzz and remind him that he should probably say something.
Unfortunately, his mind didn’t filter what it was he said before sending it to his mouth. “Fuck. Dracula?! As in the Dracula? Bram Stoker’s Dracula?” As if there was any other Dracula. He was so fixated on this that he completely missed what she said about dancing for Victrola or asking this man, Chuck, about getting him a freelance job. Her nudge nearly sent him toppling off his stool.
Oh, geez, Henry. You cutie patootie. Midna laughed, a husky and somewhat smoky sound, carrying over the beat of breezy Hawaiian tunes. “Hey, don’t hurt yourself,” she teased, patting the guy gently on the shoulder and helping to steady him. “How about if we make the next one a shot of water?” Flush that system out! They both could probably use something a little less potent. She would portal them home, but didn’t want them to end up on top of the local 7-11 or something just because she too was intoxicated.
“But, you know, yeah. That Dracula. He’s kind of intimidating but I think I give him fuzzies.” They had a very odd bond, her and Dracs - she looked at Vlad in a paternal sort of way, and he seemed to reciprocate. He was always there when she needed him, like any father would be - like a father was supposed to be.
She also made a drunk note to text Chuck about promo pics. Maybe Henry would appreciate the opportunity later, when they were both sober.
Henry most certainly would appreciate the opportunity to take promo pictures for Chuck and his new club when he was sober. Right now he was busy steadying himself on the stool, grasping hold of Midna’s arm to regain a bit of balance. That was almost embarrassing. What the hell did they put in these drinks anyway? “Yeah, I think water might be a good idea.” he agreed as he eyed the size of the glasses he’d been sucking down practically back to back. Getting drunk was alright, getting absolutely falling down shit faced was not. Not exactly a great first impression. Although, getting kidnapped probably hadn’t been the best first impression either. Besides, the two of them were there to have fun, Henry would prefer to remember it in the morning.
“Dracula gets ‘fuzzies’?” That was something the books and the movies seemed to leave out. Henry was picturing one of those Dracula portrayals surrounded with cute little puppies and kittens instead of blood and bodies on spikes. The image made him snort.
“A little. Little bit of fuzzies,” Midna smirked. She assumed that Dracula’s fiance gave him fuzzies too, but other than that? He was probably not so inclined to admit that he too was susceptible to the phenomenon. “Everyone has someone who gives them fuzzies - and if they don’t, they should.” The best part was, there were all different types - romantic, platonic, familial. No shame in experiencing the wonder of such things!
Now that she had ice water, Midna held it up in a toast. A slightly drunken one, but she meant well - it was a very heartfelt sentiment. “Here’s to fuzzies, and embracing them!”
That was true. Henry certainly had people who gave him fuzzies. Like Rapunzel, who was always there to make him smile no matter what with her undeniable cheery nature and pure embodiment of sunshine. Like Kenzie, who brought him milkshakes to cheer him up. Even Revy, who called him dickcheese as a term of endearment and came to his rescue when he was in trouble. And now, the Twilight Princess herself. Fuzzy people were everywhere. They kind of made the world worth living in.
He laughed and lifted his drink and sloppily clinked it against Midna’s. “To fuzzies,” he agreed.