//------------------------------// // 2: Dressed for Dinner // Story: Encore in the Final Nights // by leeroy_gIBZ //------------------------------// Alright. Somebody better remind me never again to let Lyra Heartstrings drive again, not even if my life depends on it. Apparently, I can’t actually die from a car crash now, but I don’t think that message got sent to the right place considering how hard I had to hang on to not be thrown out the convertible whenever that madwoman changed gears. “Alright. Let’s never do that again.” I said, once I’d the world stopped spinning and the green-skinned nutjob stopped driving. “You’ll get used to it. Hopefully.” Octavia panted. “So what day is it? It felt like I was trapped for days in that damn coffin.” “Feb 10th, ‘bout half nine, why?” Braeburn answered, checking his watch. “Phone’s dead, idiot. This Prince asshole busted it while he was busy covering the bar with my brains.” “I’d highly suggest you don’t refer to Mr Blueblood as that. Although he is a great deal more down-to-earth than his compatriots, I can’t imagine he’d take to kindly to the insult.” Octavia said, climbing out of the Porsche and attacking her hair back into shape with a brush. “Wait. You can see your own reflection?” She snapped shut the hand mirror, “Of course. Not all myths about vampires are true. And I certainly would not go around spreading that particular one, of all things.” “Yeah, can we move this along please?” Lyra asked, “The place is going to be closing soon and I don’t exactly think Adagio here is up for any smash and grab just yet.” “Why not? I’m a vampire now. What’re they going to? Shoot at me? Does that even work?” “Not really. That’s generally why them law-enforcement types got told to just ring up the CIA instead. Let them handle it, y'know. And let me tell y’all, the guns they got work just fine against us.” Braeburn said, before walking off, “Anyhow, I got places to be and Ministers to fight. Be seeing you round, kid. Don’t get into no trouble, alright?” “Well. Let’s hurry on then. I do believe the local boutique is still open for business. We might as well pick her out something nice for her interview at the chantry.” Octavia said, gesturing for me and Lyra to follow. “Wait. What’s a Minister?” I asked as we walked. “Exactly what it says on the tin, Dagi.” “Don’t call me that. I have a perfectly good name already, you psychopathic cat smasher.” “Hey!” Lyra yelled. “What? It’s true. You even shouted ‘ten points’ before running the thing over, Heartstrings.” “That is beside the point. Anyway, Adagio, Minsters are effectively vampire snake priests. Our faction, the Camarilla, is currently at war with them. We have a shoot-on-sight policy, if you were wondering.” I patted my hip, and the suspicious lack of a holstered firearm saying, “I don’t exactly have anything to shoot with, you know? Maybe we should fetch that sheriff friend of yours again?” “All in due time, Dagi. Now come on, its fashion time!” Lyra cheered, shoving into the store and then jingling the bell again for good measure. Somebody better remind me to make a list of where those Rainbooms live nowadays. Because guess who owns the Carousel Boutique for the foreseeable future? That’s right, everybody’s favourite tailor, poseur and keyboardist: Rarity Belle. “Good evening, Octavia. Always a pleasure to see you.” She greeted, waving as the cellist and I walked into her store. “I see you've brought friends.” “Don’t I get a hello?” Lyra protested. “Hello then, Miss Heartstrings. Have you and Miss Dazzle here come to apologize yet, or are you just going to cause more mayhem?” Rarity frowned. “Oh, come on, what did I do?” Lyra sighed, taking a seat on an ottoman, kicking off her shoes. “You know what you did! Sassy still hasn't recovered from that fitting. I don’t even know how you got pins stuck… there. And, as for you.” Rarity said, turning to me. I gave her the finger, before walking past her, to the first of many racks of bedazzled clothes. Now, what to get? Going off the assumption that somebody who isn’t me is paying, I think a new wardrobe is definitely in order. Preferably something that screams “Queen of the Night". Midnight blue, maybe, it contrasts well with my complexion. Either that or another one in red, because honestly subtlety can go stuff itself; I am a vampire and the grey lady is right, I am going to own this. Eventually, after emptying half of Rarity’s stocks over the floor while she was busy bickering with Lyra, I managed to decide on something that didn’t remind me of her. Too much, anyway. Everything in this place glittered. I’m going to be finding rhinestones in places rhinestones should not be for weeks, aren’t I? I slapped the maroon halter dress on the counter, then I slapped Rarity out of her argument. Seriously, neurotic assistants are a dime a dozen, and you have like three. Go serve a paying customer, will you, ideally me? “Why, I never! I ought to throw you out of the store, you incorrigible maniac!” She whined, clutching her cheek. A red print of my hand was already beginning to form. Guess vampires are stronger than I thought. What a nice surprise. Maybe her children will inherit it, and one part of their faces will actually look tolerable, because going with Rarity’s taste in men, that’s probably going to be their only shot. “It’ll grow back. Besides, nobody will care if you slather another layer of makeup on. You already look like a clown.” Rarity gasped, “That’s it! Out!” Octavia stepped between us, “Rarity. Calm down. Sell me the dress. We were never here. You’re overworked and half-asleep. Sell me the dress, then close up shop and go home to Sweetie Belle immediately.” After she stopped speaking, I almost felt like rushing back to check on my own little sister. And I hate Aria. Rarity blinked a few times, then shoved the single dollar note into the register, before grabbing her handbag and shooing us out the store. Keys flashed and then the woman’s car screeched away under a minute later. “I’m almost impressed.” I said. She handed me the bag, and then bowed slightly, “Just a bit of Presence at work, my dear. Nothing a neonate like you couldn’t handle, given the proper training of course.” “Got it. Presence. Makes people do what I say. I’ll be sure to master that one sooner rather than later. What’s next on the list? A drink?” “A woman after my own heart. To the movie theatre! And or hunting grounds!” Lyra cheered, before running off in the direction of the theatre. It was small, shabby, and it had probably been cleaned, once. Likely a decade earlier, judging from the way the seat cushion stuck to my dress. Definitely going to burn this one after I get an opportunity to change. Once we arrived, I spotted Lyra rushing off to greet another woman, catching the tan girl in a bone-mashing hug. Off balance, she collapsed into the couple’s seats Lyra had picked out. Rustling and unzipping began to occur. “That’s Bon-Bon. She’s one of us, and Lyra’s best friend.” Octavia commented, while flicking through a magazine. “Looks more like girlfriend the way Lyra’s sticking her tongue down her throat. Also, that thing is disturbingly long. And forked.” “That’s Miss Heartstrings for you. I highly recommend you stay on her good side. She can and will literally rearrange your face if make an enemy of her.” “Noted. Shoot first. So why are we even here, again? I’ve seen Power Ponies: Endgame before. And it didn’t impress then either. This Juniper Montage character has got to be the worst director I’ve even seen. Seriously, the soundtrack could not be mixed worse!” A bunch of people shushed me. I ignored them. Frankly, listening to me, even as out of talent as I was, was still better than just raising tension by making the same track of music louder. “Do keep it down, and yes, if I wanted a show, I would’ve just attended the local club. I do believe Vinyl Scratch is performing and she is quite simply wonderful. Have you even heard her work?” Octavia said. I sighed, “I am very familiar with her music. Painfully familiar remember? I still have scars from when that shitty car of hers zapped me.” “Oh, yes, that. Never mind then, you don’t seem like the dubstep type anyway.” Octavia said, slipping the tabloid back into her handbag. “Neither do you.” “Fair point. But I did ghoul her so I feel somewhat obliged to put up with whatever nonsense she writes. You’ve never known true misery until you have to edit your imbecile friend’s written music, you know.” “Preaching to the choir here, remember? Anyway, why are we here then? I can’t imagine we’re networking.” “Of course not.” Octavia whispered; the trailers had finished rolling, “I just needed a crowd of people. That way I can match your prey’s aura to yours. You could liken it to connecting puzzle pieces.” “I suppose that’s also a vampire power?” “They’re called disciplines, but yes, Auspex is. Out of your clan, unfortunately, and I don’t trust those two lovebirds to do it. So that’s why I’m here. Now hold still.” I held still. Didn’t notice I was twitching until right now but hoo boy, this reminds me of the time Byron shot me. Hurt like anything and I was in bed for a week. Poisoned his lunch afterward, the twat. Don’t know what I saw in him. Speaking of, all that blood pooling around me sure looked tasty in hindsight. Shit, I’m hungry. I could a horse. Well, I would anyway, considering my track record with those bastards, but in addition to the spot in my stomach reserved for alicorn steak, I could drink a whole swimming pool right now. “Please, Adagio. Hold still.” Octavia whispered, peering at me and rubbing her temples. “I am trying.” “Try harder then, please, I can’t see the missing patch elsewise. You’re shaking harder than washing machine with a V8 engine.” “Do I even want to know?” “Let’s leave it at Malkavians for now, alright? The insane clan of vampires has… particularly interesting ideas relating to engineering, and everything else really. And… there. Got it. Three seats down, seven to your left.” Following the directions, I saw somebody I had absolutely no desire whatsoever to see again. Twilight fucking Sparkle. Just great. Well, on the other hand, I get to exsanguinate that know-it-all smirk right off her prissy purple face. Oh yeah, rip and tear. Probably drag her out here first, don’t really want to see if Braeburn’s threat is too or not, but after that… I am painting the walls of my shoebox apartment with her blood. A hand grabbed my wrist. “Sit. Down.” Octavia ordered. I shrugged her off and started across the seats. I was just about to grab her too, before Octavia swatted my hand again. How’d she even get here? She was sitting down pretending to care about fictitious losers in spandex the last time I looked. “What’s your plan?” She hissed. “Brute force. Now let go.” “What? In the middle of a crowded theatre? Are you insane?” “I believed you when you told me I had joined the ranks of the undead, so yeah maybe I am. Also, I was going to drag her out of here first. I can talk to people, you know. I just completely and utterly despise doing so.” Octavia’s phone went off. Bad wubs filled the theatre. People started whining again. Twilight looked up. I didn’t remember her having glasses. No matter. Time to try out Presence for myself then. I clicked my fingers, “You. Bitch. Come with me.” I said, while the other vampire jabbered at her phone. Twilight shuffled back in her seat, “What!” The man sitting next to her stood up, nasty frown on his rugged face, cigarette burns on his cargo shorts, “Who the hell do you think you are calling my girl that?” “Timber. Sit down. Please.” Twilight said, tugging on his sleeve. “To answer your question, you green-haired imbecile, I am the most incredible person you’ll ever meet. Now make like your better half says and sit down. While you’re at it, you can shut up too.” He did not, in fact, sit down. In fact, he shoved past his girlfriend, over to the aisle, fists balled and glared at me. “You say that again.” “Listen, idiot. Are you really going to hit a lady in a crowded theatre? Your ass will rot in prison for the next decade if you lay a finger on me. And then, you won’t get to lay your fingers on her.” I said, pointing over to Twilight, who was watching this unfold with an expression like that you’d have if your dog suddenly grew wings, learned to talk and set your house on fire. It suited her. Timber grumbled. Octavia continued to chatter at the person on the other end of the line. Vinyl was in serious trouble, apparently. “Listen, you arrogant pot-scented chump, I just want to talk. Sparkle here and I have history. We went to the same high school and I have some unfinished business with her.” Twilight and Timber shared a look. She tried puppy-dog eyes. He shrugged, and let her pass. Now standing, Twilight was smaller than I remember; thinner, and hunched over slightly. I guess a life stuck behind a computer will do that to you, in addition to gluing those milk bottles to your face. Scowling, she pointed to the exit, “You first.” “I am a lady, after all. You should try it some time.” I said, before tapping Octavia on the shoulder. She merely frowned before returning to the phone, and the four of us walked out the theatre. The night air was a refreshing change from the muggy heat of the sticky showhouse. I made for Lyra’s car, leading both of them well out the range of any streetlamps or security cameras. Judging from my rather unfortunate appearance in the Carousel Boutique changing room, I’d wager that I’m not one of those vampires that lacks a reflection. Lucky me. Maybe tomorrow night I’ll be looking decent again. “Alright, this is far enough. What is it?” Timber asked, arms crossed. “Something that doesn’t concern you, sandalista. Go find a tree to shit in and let the intelligent people talk in peace.” “I think you should do as Adagio says. This is Equestrian business, Timber. It should really only take a minute.” Twilight said, feeling for the necklace under her blouse. The man groaned, and stamped off, his hiking boots crunching against the loose gravel. Twilight turned to me, “Now what is it? You do know that I’m the other Twilight, right? The one native to earth.” Well. That was unexpected. I honestly though that there was only one of these pricks. But, then again, she could just be lying. Not worth the risk. “Come closer.” I said, taking a step forward to her, smiling, “I’ve got something to tell you. Something… important.” She took a step back, “No. Sunset told me who you are, and I really don’t actually think I should be talking to you.” “Correct!” “Wha-” Was all she managed before I clamped a hand around her mouth. My other one knocked hers aside. Don’t want any magic interfering here so that amulet has to go. I snapped the strap off her neck and tossed it in the bushes. There, if her boy scout boyfriend wants to feel useful, he finally can. She struggled, and screamed against my palm. Timber bought a pack of Camels in the gas station store. Octavia stood watch in an alleyway. Here we go. I shoved her against the bonnet of the Porsche. She wriggled, wide-eyed and kicking and punching uselessly with her free hand. Barely felt it. Either these vampire powers are finally kicking in or she’s scrawnier than I thought. I bent down, and clamped my teeth around her neck. Something clicked. My fangs. They slid down into her. The struggling ceased. The blood began to flow. Fuck. Fuck! This feels amazing! It was like sex, and drink, and Siren song all at once. This tastes, this feels so much better than negative energy. I sucked deeply, forcing my teeth further into her arteries. “Stop!” Somebody yelled. In the background. Didn’t care. Blood to drink. Can finally forget. “Stop, now!” Octavia repeated. I blinked. Twilight crumpled to the tarmac, limp. Her skin was grey, and her eyes rolled back in her skull. She moaned weakly. I looked over to Octavia. The Brit was not happy. She was furious. “What where you thinking?” She shouted. “I was hungry. And she tasted incredible.” “You nearly killed her!” “So? Either tell me why I should care or get out of my way.” “We do not kill people. That should be our least favourite thing to do! Besides, in addition to turning you into a bloodthirsty sociopath, it is also a serious Masquerade breach to find somebody lying drained of blood in front of a mall. We do not want people finding out about vampires, please.” “Cool it. I wasn’t going to Black Dahlia her or anything. Probably going to shove her in a bush or something. Maybe burn the corpse. I might already be a bloodthirsty sociopath, but I’m not stupid.” “Just… trust me, alright? If you kill her, not only will the Prince likely have you executed, you’ll be down one Kine. One less mortal to drink from. Don’t go thinning your own herd.” She opened the car door, “Now get in. We need to leave before she and her boyfriend wake up.” I raised an eyebrow, and wiped the blood of my face. “What about Lyra and Bon-Bon? Aren’t we supposed to get them too?” “I’ll fetch them afterwards. Once they’re done exchanging bodily fluids.” Octavia said, climbing into the driver’s seat, starting the car. She clicked on the radio as we drove and she was not subtle about any self-promotion. Listen, I don’t remember that much about how cellos work but you playing one and your favourite classical station also paying one raises some eyebrows. She was pretty good though. “You do know my place is in the opposite direction, right?” I said, looking back at the lights of Canterlot City, fading into the distance. “I am well aware of that. I thought you might like to stay at mine instead, it is a great deal more comfortable.” Octavia responded. “Congratulations, you’re number five hundred thousand. I’d give you a gift, but that runs contrary to the idea of keeping track of all the losers that try to hit on me.” She snorted, “Well then, I was merely being hospitable, as we Kindred tend to be. And besides, it isn’t like you had a snowball’s chance in hell anyway.” “One, I totally do. I have seduced kings, you lyrical self-aggrandizing chav, you would not be a challenge. Two, I don’t take charity. Not from people like you. So, turn this car around now, please.” If anything, she actually sped up. Not to her crazy friend’s level of speeding, but my hair was definitely blown out of style, or maybe back into it, considering the way the last day went. “I’m counting to three. You might be better at this whole vampire affair than I am, but I am me, Adagio Dazzle, and I don’t get pushed around by humans, undead or otherwise.” “Blinds, right?” Octavia said, keeping her eyes on the road, jamming her stiletto down on the accelerator. Seriously, what kind of idiot drives in heels; I get the composure aspect just find but I’d rather not be picking bits of shattered windshield out my broken neck, thank you very much. I learned that lesson the hard way. “Blinds.” She repeated. I rolled my eyes, “Can it with the metaphors, I’m perfectly perceptive. I just don’t like you.” “You have blinds in your flat, don’t you?” “Have you been in my home, rooting through my stuff?” “It was all either thrifted or undeniably tacky. But that’s beside the point, which is that your current setup doesn’t actually allow you to sleep without the risk of burning to death.” “We’re vampires, remember? We don’t need sleep. Now slow down before you drive off a cliff.” I said, reaching to extend the convertible’s roof back before my curls were blown off my head in the wind. She slapped my hand away, “Yes, we need to sleep. We do it during the day, and unless you want to rest curled up beneath your own sink, you are staying at my manor tonight. I’m informed that Prince Blueblood himself personally embraced you and, as my charge for the foreseeable future, it is in both of best interests to not let you accidentally kill yourself.” “Fine. But I’m using your shower.” Octavia sighed, her stiff upper lip finally giving way to some actual anger. Stoicism is so boring. “That was part of the arrangement.” “And I’ll have one actually attractive virgin sent to my quarters every sunset, and make sure she’s my type, whatever that actually is.” “Don’t push your luck. Those two things are mutually exclusive and, besides, you will hunt like the rest of us.” Octavia said, bringing the sportscar to a stop in front of a set of elegant iron gates. The warm glow of the mansion’s red-orange lights on the cold smoke-grey stone were faintly visible in the distance, behind a thick black-green line of forest. It like a cross between a fairy tale castle and a hunting lodge. Perfect for a legendary queen of the night. I smirked. “Cute place.” “Rather, isn’t it? I acquired it after we ousted the local bishop. I’m sad to say Miss Heartstrings shares it with me though. She came with the house unfortunately.” Octavia said, as a guard clinked the gate open and we began the drive up the path to it. Well, I guess its true what they say about vampires and religion then. We do not get along apparently.