ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ (twili) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-10-23 12:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, midna, raistlin majere |
Who: Midna & Raistlin
What: Both are glamoured up while Midna is working, and then there's a chat about magic
When: Recent!
Where: Victrola
Rating/Warnings: Not really, save for that it's a burlesque club?
Status: Complete
Raistlin wasn’t an oak. He enjoyed the female body just as much as any straight male, however, you weren’t apt to find him in the front row at a burlesque show eyeballing the dancers or throwing one dollar bills onto the stage. Burlesque was an art, fancier than stripping, and the ladies of Victrola were quite talented and beautiful. It was a good place to spend some time at the end of a long day. A show was already well under way when Raistlin entered the club that particular evening, much on his mind. He glanced at the stage and the dancer as he made his way towards the bar, pausing once to watch the woman as she moved across the stage in fluid enticing motions. He smiled faintly before turning his attention back to the bar. Once there he ordered himself a glass of scotch. The art of burlesque dancing truly was an art - forget about all those cheesy interpretations in movies featuring Christina Aguilera. A good show was a representation of all shapes, sizes, and ethnicities - and was a very powerful form of expression. Those sistas on Victrola’s stage put on one hell of a performance, vintage elements with kind of a modern twist, and sometimes they’d even trample the bar-tops when things were particularly audacious. There was diversity here - sweet girls next door, punks, vampy vixens and femme fatales. Midna probably fell under the last category; she certainly looked the part, with her exotic tribal tattoos and fishnets. There was a glamour though, courtesy of her shadow magic and one she allowed to envelope herself when she performed - better for the audience to see caramel skin and reddish-orange hair, than something blue-toned and red-eyed. Finishing up the act, she and the other gals vacated the stage, heading back to change and wash the makeup off. Midna was quick about it, leaving her fishnets on but slipping into a pair of short-shorts and an off-the-shoulder top. With boots climbing high on her thighs, the Amazonian-looking princess strutted to the bar to get herself something to soothe her parched throat. “Just a water,” she asked the bartender, since technically she was on the clock so she shouldn’t be drinking. Then she noticed a guy with scotch, and he’d come in here before. Overall, he seemed...familiar. “Hey there,” Midna winked. “Enjoy the show?” Raistlin glanced at the amazon when she had come up to the bar. He recognized her instantly as one of the performers who had been on stage when he’d arrive. She was hard to miss with her distinctive features. Unlike the other ladies on stage, this particular dancer’s features were unique. That bronze caramel that coated her Amazonian form was not her true skin tone. Raistlin caught hints of blue shining just under the surface. Her eyes flickered red when she turned just so. This caught Raistlin’s interest now that he was seeing it up close. He kept his attention on his drink, however, as the woman ordered herself a water. It was rude to fawn over the dancers. They were here to work and Raistlin knew how much he disliked being pestered when he was working. He worked in a lab rather than a club, but the principle was still the same. However, it was also rude to not acknowledge someone when they spoke to you, and even though that piece of etiquette Raistlin sometimes ignored, he had no ill opinions of the red-haired beauty next to him. In fact, what his eyes saw made him rather interested in whatever it was she had to say. “I did,” he answered her in his low gravely voice. His own glamoured eyes moved towards her again, lingering a moment on her tattoos before moving to meet the woman’s own blazing red eyes. “You all are very talented.” Magic users could kind of sense each other, they could sniff each other out like bloodhounds - or at least, the boost from piece of the Triforce which rested in its dormant state on Midna’s hand allowed her to look at the world in sort of a different way as well. So she definitely could tell something was up with her newfound friend here - another Valarnet denizen? Cool. She always liked when those types wandered into Victrola. “Glad you did,” she grinned, getting more comfy on the barstool. She was what one might call statuesque, and crossed one mile-long leg over the other; ever since dreaming, Midna probably added a couple inches to her height as well. Stranger things had happened. “You come here a lot, yeah? Well, maybe not a lot, but...I think I’ve seen you.” She would politely wait a minute or so before jumping into things like maaaaaaaagic. Sometimes she had manners. Raistlin’s eyes subtly moved over the woman seated next to him. He was unable to see beauty the way he used to. However, he could still see elegance and there was grace in the way this woman moved. Glamoured eyes moved back upwards. “You probably have,” he told her. “I’ve come in every now and then. I knew someone who worked here. And I’ve enjoyed the shows. Very artful and entertaining.” He had always stayed near the back of the club, near the bar. He never hooted or hollard along with the rest of the crowd. His tips for the dancers were never thrown, but somehow found their way up onto the stage without drawing attention to himself. So he was surprised (and somewhat impressed) that this particular elegant woman had noticed him, much less even remembered him. His lean frame borderlining on the undernourished with long, sharp and angular features weren’t what he considered to be eyecatching. He looked at her again, carefully. Now that she was closer, he could see more of that blue skin under soft caramel tones, as though it were body paint slowly being rubbed off. She had to be a member of Valarnet, that much was obvious. Magically inclined? Someone had glamoured her to fit in, if not she herself. So, perhaps, she had noticed him for other reasons. A respectful patron was one that Midna valued - burlesque could be rowdy and fun, but the general ambiance of the club in general was cool and classy, so there was no room for riff-rafs. Oh, and she also valued the tips, don’t get her wrong - by now, she knew who came in and of those, who would be generous when it came to appreciating the art, and the hard work of the dancers. Her memory was like a bear trap, you see. Raistlin wasn’t as forgettable as he assumed. Which was why she gave him a smile, a friendly twinkle in her own glamoured eyes - they were hazel, with flecks of green and gold. Cleverly hiding the crimson tint to her irises, naturally, but to the naked human eye they looked completely normal. “Oh yeah? Who did you know who worked here?” she asked curiously. Then, as she twisted the cap off of her water bottle, made sure to introduce herself. Especially if they’d be talking more in-depth here - and she had a few minutes, so why not. “I’m Midna, by the way. Interior design assistant by day, burlesque dancer by night - I’ve got a few other skills too, if you catch my drift. What about you, what’s your specialty?” “A manager,” Raistlin answered slowly, choosing his words carefully. This woman - Midna - was hiding her true self. Raistlin could understand that to a certain extent, he’d gone around in sunglasses before Regina had glamoured his eyes, after all. “She and I knew each other from a local online forum. I’d meet her here from time to time.” Raistlin raised a brow. Despite appearances, Midna was certainly forthcoming. He found that to be an interesting contrast. “Raistlin,” he introduced himself. “I’m a chemist for Stark Industries.” He paused for a moment and decided to take the risk. The worst response he’d get was that Midna would look at him strangely and walk away. “And, I’m a mage.” He sipped his drink. A mage Fucking badass! Midna was clearly pleased - and she also wanted to shed her skin, figuratively, so the glamour could take a hike as far as she was concerned. Just not here. “Oh, yeah, you mean Pam? She managed the place for awhile,” the Twilight Princess nodded. “But anywhoozle, nice to meet you, Raistlin. I think I know which local online forum you mean.” Hopping off the stool, she couldn’t help the very impish look which crossed her features - cursed into that pot-bellied form, when was an actual imp, the funny thing was that it suited her personality well. “You wanna go in the back and talk? I have a dressing room, it’s private. Not like that,” she chuckled, with a snort, as she grabbed her water bottle. “Not like I’m propositioning you. You just seem interesting.” Yeah, she was a straight shooter, wasn’t she. You gotta love her though. Raistlin nodded. Yes. Pam. He hadn’t seen her in quite a while and truth be told, he rather missed her Fuck-You attitude and snark. Going toe to toe with her had been a great way to pass the time. “I’m sure you do,” he stated flatly. A brow arched slightly when Midna hopped off the stool. Even if he and Pam’d had the occasional liason in her office, sex was not the first thing Raistlin thought of when Midna invited him back to her dressing room. In fact, it was kind of amusing that she felt as though she had to amend her invitation to include that fact. “Of course not,” he said, but got off his own stool. Bar stools these days had a way of digging into his bony butt. At least Midna’s dressing room held the promise of something more comfortable to sit on, if not interesting conversation about how it was Midna came to have blue skin. “Of course,” he said. “Do you not have another show tonight?” “Yeah, but not for an hour or so - I’m burning the midnight oil tonight,” she said, as she led Raistlin back to her quarters. There were definitely plenty of places to sit that outranked a barstool - she had the chair facing her mirror, by her vanity, and also a plush sofa that was red velvet and actually from the living room at her former apartment. Rather than give it away, when she moved into Zelda and Impa’s new house, she simply brought it to her place of employment. It suited the burlesque vibe very well, anyway. Plenty of cushion for a bony butt, and she gladly motioned for Raistlin to take a seat, choosing her vanity chair - which she sat in with it backward, not really in a ladylike fashion. “Alright, whew - “ With that, her glamour flickered and dissipated, fading into nothingness and revealing her true form. The black ink of her tattoos stood out on pale blue skin, the Twili tribal designs curling around her thigh, down her leg, and one that was a half-sleeve on her arm. “Feels better now. So! What kind of a mage are you?” she wanted to know. Midna. Midnight. Poetic. Raistlin followed the statuesque beauty to her dressing room. It obviously wasn’t as large as the lounge and stage area, but Raistlin found it to be more comfortable. Less bodies, less noise. When Midna released her glamour, Raistlin was taken a little aback. It was clear to him that she wasn’t entirely human. The blue hued skin and tribal tattoos swirling over her long limbs may have been indications to most. However, Raistlin of Krynn, who was quite human, had golden skin. Not tanned or bronze, literally gold tinted skin, as though someone had dipped him in paint. And tattoos, well, people got tattoos. Kitiara made a living out of such a trade. No, what caught Raistlin’s attention was that Midna still looked beautiful, even without the glamour. Like the elves of Krynn, whose lives far outlasted those of mortal men and women, Midna’s form wasn’t withered or decayed like nearly everyone else Raistlin had come into contact with after receiving his new eyes. It was something of a breath of fresh air to not be speaking to a putrid corpse for a change. It also interested him quite a bit. Aside from Tas, Raistlin had not yet met anyone who had become something else due to the dreams. He raised a brow at the woman and didn’t answer her question, not at first. “You aren’t human,” he observed, not in surprise, but more as a casual statement. Huh, well, alright. Midna wasn’t expecting that observation - but hey, not like she had anything to hide. And Mr. Raistlin the Mysterious Mage wasn’t wrong. “Nope,” she shook her head, even a bit of pride to her tone - she was what she was, and she wouldn’t change it. “I’m Twili - we’re descended from a tribe of sorcerers. Humanoid-looking, but the only similarities are really those base physical characteristics.” Her people were capable of great magical feats - the skills of levitation, telekinesis, creating portals, and manipulating objects were present even before she received a piece of the Triforce. Now she was just...super-charged. Or something. But she could handle the power, even if everyday was a balancing act, to prove to herself and the Goddesses who entrusted someone of Twili origin to such an important bit of magic, that she wouldn’t abuse the gift. “We were banished to the Twilight Realm, which is unfortunately considered some kind of dumpster by those in the Light World. However, my people actually thrived there and evolved. Generations before my time, I mean,” she explained, in case he was interested. Oh, Raistlin was interested. He was very interested. He leaned forward a little as he listened to Midna talk. Anything having to do with magic immediately captured his attention and here was a woman whose entire race was descended from a “tribe of sorcerers”. It was unusual to hear “tribe” and “sorcerer” in the same sentence like that. He’d heard of councils, circles, guilds...but never tribe. “Very interesting,” he mused. “Was it fear of magic that caused your people to be banished?” “No, it was basically greed,” Midna grinned sheepishly. “My ancestors, they tried to seize control of a place called the Sacred Realm,” she said. “It was the resting place of the Triforce - three pieces, obviously, which is an artifact that is all power. But that didn’t go well, and the Goddesses were like nope - so they were banished.” And from then on, the Twilight Realm had sort of become a place as ‘punishment,’ where people like Ganon were sent after committing their transgressions. Being disgruntled about their lands being treated as such happened also - most citizens thrived, but others (like Zant) went mad over time. She chugged from her water bottle, before speaking again, then twisted the cap back on. “I have a piece of the Triforce now - eventually, as a way to sort of build a peace between the light and twilight realms, I was trusted with it to help rebuild the bridges.” Or at least, that’s what she assumed. It was all very fascinating and Raistlin listened with rapt attention. There was something disturbing familiar about Midna’s story of her ancestors attempting to seize power over a place they did not belong, a place of power. Raistlin couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but he could identify with the goals of the people who would become the Twili. Something else had also taken an interest. Raistlin could feel a restless presence stirring deep inside himself. It did not come forward. Not at the moment. “So, you’re like a guardian of sorts,” he observed. “A guardian and ambassador. That’s a very impressive job. A lot responsibility.” An ambassador, yeah, Midna supposed she was. That was how her dreams ended, anyway - there was a lot of damage to repair, and the princess thought it best to return to her homeland and focus on the betterment of her people. Kind of not fair that Zelda was getting her third set of dreams, where Midna only had one (oh, right, she was Twili and ruled the dumpster of the universe, right?) but maybe that’d change eventually. She did want to know how well they bounced back from Zant usurping the throne and cursing them all. “A guardian, definitely,” she smiled - but then as she studied Raistlin, those blood-red eyes tightened a little. Her expression turned concerned. “You need to be careful. There’s something - something about you.” She didn’t know what it was - a spirit within, something blackened. All she knew was what he wasn’t entirely alone in there, in the deep vestiges of heart and soul. “Ganondorf became corrupted too, gnarled and twisted - he was the wielder of the Triforce of Power before me. He believed the Goddesses chose him, that he too could become a God. He destroyed so much trying to achieve that and eventually he failed. They always fail.” Her look became downcast - because it was a tale as old as time, and she didn’t want it to happen again. The look on Raistlin’s face wasn’t exactly a scowl, but it was something close. Midna had not actually accused him of anything, but the way she compared to him this Ganondorf did not sound at all flattering. He sat back in his seat, arms folded across his narrow chest. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re implying,” even though he sort of did. “What is it about me that gave you the impression that I’m corrupt, or may become corrupt?” He could hazard a guess, but he was unclear how this woman would know of the other presence Raistlin thought he felt within himself. He had no proof yet that his concerns were legitimate. All he had to go one were strange episodes of not feeling as though he was in his body and yet someone had been in control. For all he knew he was developing some kind of mental disorder. It certainly sounded that way. It was a possibility, of course, but everything Raistlin had learned since moving here, it seemed unlikely, ironically enough. Even so, how did Midna, a woman he had literally just met, know any of that? She wielded power herself, was descended from sorcerers, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. “I’ve seen corruption before. I know what it looks like in a person,” Midna responded, lifting the royal scoop of her chin in a dignified manner. Sometimes she had her moments - she was a princess, after all, ruler of the Twili kingdom. “I’m a creature best meant for the shadows, technically - it’s where me and my people dwell. So that side of the coin? It’s familiar to me. They call me the Twilight Princess for a reason, besides for my official duties.” She hoped that this mage here would heed her warnings. If not, she’d hate for him to lose everything he no doubt built here - it didn’t even take much, really. A descent into a power-hungry obsession could snowball very quickly. “Not like we know each other very well, but if anything happens - you can contact me.” Royalty in any form meant very little to Raistlin, however, the way Midna held herself, lifting her head in that regal matter, it was all very familiar. Somewhat reminiscent of Laurana. The biggest difference here being that while Laurana was full of naive self-importance, Midna was justified in assuming such a pose. Raistlin shook his head slightly, dismissing the comparison. The more interesting point to their conversation was Midna’s offer to help. This struck Raistlin by surprise, and for a moment it replaced his normally stoic expression. Why she would want to offer her assistance to a man she barely knew made a certain degree of sense given what she had told him about herself and her own experiences. However, it had never been Raistlin’s experience for someone to just offer of themselves in such a way. At least, not to him. He wasn’t sure if this was part of Midna’s nature, or he was in more trouble than he first thought. Raistlin shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. “Yes,” pause, “thank you, Midna. That is very” pause “kind of you.” He got to his feet. “I’ve taken up enough of your time, I think. I appreciate you speaking with me.” Usually, Midna wasn’t one for offering her assistance to people - the person she dreamed of certainly hadn’t been that way, at least in the beginning. But she’d learned a lot throughout her travels with Link, and Zelda, and their quest to stop both Zant and Ganon. Initially, she had gone into it like a lone wolf would. She she only cared about herself, about her own people - but she learned that there was a rightness in helping those of the Light World too. Especially with how close she’d gotten to Zelda, and the goodness she’d seen in the other princess’s heart. Midna just wanted to pay it forward, so to speak. Here too, she just couldn’t bear to see someone end up like Ganon. Not when it was preventable. “Sure thing, anytime. Here’s my card - “ In one swoop, she reached for a jewelry box on her vanity and removed her contact information, which she handed to Raistlin. “It was nice meeting you.” Raistlin paused a moment when Midna handed him her card, single brow arched, bemused. Ah, yes, she had said she was an interior decorator at the start of their conversation. Raistlin took the card and looked at it, noting Midna’s name and contact information written on it. Glamoured blue eyes glanced up from the card back to the woman, who even with his cursed sight, still looked elegant and beautiful. Raistlin wondered if it was due to the type of race she was, or if it was due to the embodiment of power she protected. “Thank you,” he said again. He placed the card she had handed to him in his wallet where it would remain safe and be less likely to get lost. “It was a pleasure meeting you as well. We’ll talk again.” He believed talking with Midna again would be beneficial, perhaps when he had a better handle on what was happening. He did want to know more about her, specifically the Triforce and the Twili people. Her concern for him was rather fascinating as well. Deep down Raistlin knew should this other decide to become anything more than a nagging he was going to need all the help he could get. |