The Greater
1 Noord-Brabant
The music reached a crescendo, a pause, Aidou let out a breathe, and the heavy bass line began to pound. The puff of cold-breath cloud he expelled lost mass, snaking across his field of vision before plastering against the windshield glass, becoming a sheet of decreased visibility. The gray of the asphalt road and the white of the snow stifled landscape became just that little bit pastier in opacity. He tapped against the leather wheel of the leather interior of his car, matching the beat of the female vocals orgasmic moaning, His hand made percussion was soft – it had that leather against leather timbre that further eroticized the song he was listening to. Fuck, he was horny. He blinked, hard, angrily pressing eyelids to eyebags. Stop it, honestly. The final bar of Trent Reznor and Karen O's rendition of 'Immigrant Song' fizzled out and he checked the dashboard terminal. 5:16pm, Wednesday the 27th of November 2397, 9 degrees below celsius in Hertogenbosch. He was right on schedule – the trip would have gone infinitesimally faster if the German government expanded on the development that the Netherlanders had focused on in this area. The road facilities were exactly the same as they had been a century and a half ago, if not worse – this drive should have taken him 4 minutes, instead, with all the bloody checkpoint scans, its an average 30 minute trip. Period boosts weren't even sanctioned! Aidou sniffed as he replayed the song, What a backwater county. To his right, what were once buildings formed some kind of romantic contrast against the gentle dunes of snow that piled up beside the road, metal piping bent haywire, solid concrete walls disappearing into blocks of frayed ends, their innards of electrical plumbing sticking out in macabre fashion. In amongst all this, Aidou only noticed a road sign close to the curb, indicating of his third, and hopefully last checkpoint before arriving at Waalwijk; exasperated, he sighed.
It was 5:21:37 when Aidou spotted the thermal clad soldiers waving him down, 5:21:49 when the song reached its conclusion, and 5:21:52 when he pulled to a halt next to a bulky compilation of white-gray-neutral-navy-blue camo, orange-mirrored reflective snow goggles, the latest in helmet technology – sonar proof, probably made with those obnoxious banshees in mind. Aidou, in his split second analysis of the military infrastructure invested in this town also recognised a FN SCAR-H Mk. 571 rifle, close quarter combat short-barrel configuration, 7.28 x 47 mm; Belgium produced but this fellow was carrying the NATO version. On his back was the FN SCAR-L Mk. 54 rifle, interestingly the Generation H prototype – Aidou made a note to remember that for his report, with the FN EGLM 40mm grenade launcher attached; also Belgium produced. His similarly incognito friend, standing a way off was carrying Chinese technology, the 817 GQ Mk. 4, Aidou's eyes flickered, an aged model -goes to show how concerned China was with this area at the moment, not that Aidou could blame them. The Chinese had bigger fish to fry before it could even remotely consider casting a solid line in these waters. Aidou skimmed over the rest of this soldier's gear. The body armor was just as comprehensive as the Belgian, but the artillery wasn't quite up to speed; yet another earmarked tidbit of information. Seated were two other officers, and one Aidou could sense in the makeshift shack, that was not in his line of sight. Looking at their arms Aidou immediately wrote them off as US and Russian, and their interests, judging by the refurbished Avtomat Podvodnyj Spetsialnyi release the Russian was toting alone, were very much concentrated in regards to the Netherlands New Sea Territory. A funny little selection in part of the 'Kremlin' considering the original Underwater Assault Rifle's history. Based on these demographics, Aidou was betting the anonymous in the shack was the mandatory German presence, not that Belgium wasn't a de facto arm of the Germans at this point. 5:21:55.
"Good afternoon sir," The Belgian began in smooth but heavily accented English – Aidou refused to refer to it as International Speak, fucking bureaucratic nonsense, "Your papers, please." He complied with the request, witnessing the ever-repetitive shift in stance as the soldier read over the 'Species' component of his documents.
"You are a diplomat vampire under the sponsorship of Kaname Kuran..." The soldier trailed off, unsure whether to pose the statement as a question. Aidou judged the pause as those shielded eyes re-scanned the paperwork – the vampire was used to this protocol by now, even if he couldn't really see any part of the soldier's face – that he was indulging in a double-take at Aidou's date of birth. Yes, he was closing in on the big four-oh-oh, must he be forever reminded?
"That's what it says." He drawled flippantly.
After a stunted moment of disbelief in which the Chinese man took the opportunity to have a quick inspection at the hold-up, their Russian and US counterparts sitting that much more upright in their chairs, the soldier returned Aidou's papers. The Chinese man stayed in close quarters, as if providing extra intimidation against the newly discovered vampire in their midst. Aidou wanted to roll his eyes. The German soldier remained hypothetical.
"Your UIC, sir."
Said identification was presented between the tips of Aidou's dainty index and middle fingers. The Belgian soldier plucked it from Aidou, visibly miffed at this fresh display of superiority even when positively coddled in all that military fabric. The card was scanned and returned quickly and the soldiers lamely provided a limp salute as Aidou drove away.
The clock read 5:24:03 when Aidou chanced a look at the rear-view and saw a fifth soldier, no longer hypothetical, holding a console and writing details down with a stylus on the middle of the road.
Fuckers, this is obviously a rental.
The Immigrant Song was once more on replay.
It was just before half past five when Aidou pulled over to a residential complex near the main street in Waalwijk. He double checked the address... he was sure he would end up at some high flying research facility, but all he was looking at was a trendy lane of apartments for the rich, and judging by the furnishings on the balconies, the single, the bored and inevitably, the lonely. The fact that his car was mostly alone in the visitor's parking furthered that argument. Even so, unlike the view during the drive here, most of the buildings here were whole, and the town seemed untouched by any turbulence. To most, the fact that many of the structures were branch spanking new, fitting of a residential developer pamphlet rather than a real place would further attest this insinuation. Aidou knew better. He rang number 72 on the intercom system and was greeted with a happy voice. Now that was definitely strange.
"This is Hanabusa Aidou..." He started, but the door buzzed open immediately. Okay... Kiryuu's signature callous never fails to irk him.
After an instantaneous elevator ride and a few steps, door 72 opened. Aidou's certainty fell. No, not Kiryuu at all.
"My apologies, I was under the impression that this was the residence of Zero Kiryuu, perhaps you are able to redirect me to-"
"Yeah, this is where he lives. Sugar?"
Aidou shifted timidly on the couch. Stylish, minimalist, cheap, mass produced. It was a fair-sized place. No television. A huge shelf-system filled with books- how vintage of zero, and racks upon racks of data storage. A simple coffee table, fake pale birch-wood. A floor-to-window sliding door, bordered in dark teak, which opened to the balcony wherein there was a simple daybed and a stool used as a side-table more than anything else as well as an out of place make-shift plant box, Styrofoam rather than anything classy. The herbs and vegetables flourished nevertheless. A few mid-size succulents in the plastic pots they came in at purchase.
"Hello? Sugar?"
Aidou returned his attention to the young man pouring coffee.
"Two, thank you."
The walls were uniformly white but the floors were wood laminate, a nice, natural colour of light oak in the living room, and a small area of naked polished concrete in the galley kitchen, which seemed pre-fitted and installed right in, sink and all, as the wall above the sink was a plate of stainless steel rather than an actual wall. To it, a few magnets clung, of which two carried a note. The espresso machine sat on the bar between the kitchen and the living room whereupon there was a noticeable lack of stools where it would have been appropriate. The small bowl of fruit, on the other side of the counter indicated that Kiryuu did no eating at the kitchen and dining space at all. Aidou looked at the ghostly ring-stains on the coffee table, he also glanced at the plain white, supremely clean, easily removable upholstery cover on the two-seater, three-if-you-are-all-skinny couch. I see, what a bachelor.
The place was neat, not at all remarkable and executed with a minimal amount of effort, but tasteful nevertheless. Aidou grudgingly accepted that he could see Kiryuu assimilate right into the whole set-up.
"Finished judging?"
Aidou would not allow himself to be caught unawares, "yes quite. You can inform Kiryuu that his place passes my standards."
The guy laughed, "Brilliant! I would love to, but you'll be seeing him sooner."
"I assume he isn't spending much time here, as of late."
"You speak your words in an order so very formal." He smiled again, ploughing on before Aidou could get a word in. "But yes, he's been living at work for the last few months, so I've been holding down the fort. Mooching off his stuff and all that."
"And you are?"
"I'm a junior researcher, intern, whatever you like your companies coffee gophers to attach to their resumes. To be honest, I was actually doing useful stuff there, but all that government, international security stuff came in and anyone without so and so classification became a liability Dordrecht couldn't afford."
"Why are you living here though?"
The junior researcher looked at him funnily, before his countenance dropped a few degrees in amicability. "You're certainly forward with these kinds of questions."
Aidou's initial, half shaded suspicions about the man quickly filled out to 3-dimensional form, and he shot back, "so you like beating around the bush."
"I hate, that colloquialism, but yes, 'beating around the bush' is one of my favourite games. You learn so much more from it than beating the bush immediately."
They both sipped at their mugs, not cups, both dark brown, the ceramic was a little lighter than what Aidou was used to. Bargain store dish-wares.
"Let's try this again. My name is Aidou Hanabusa, I am a diplomatic aide to Kaname Kuran and I have been tasked with making contact with Zero Kiryuu upon which further directions will be issued. Basically I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here, but I need to talk to Kiryuu before I can find out anymore." Aidou took another small sip. "Your turn, junior researcher."
"Giliam Gervaas, junior researcher from Fluxys who are interested in the Dordrecht site due to its proximity to what the company believes to be pockets of natural gas now buried under a kilometre of water."
"One of the biggest natural gas companies in the region and they send a junior researcher for this... the powers... the German powers that be suspected you of being a spy against the interests of German-Belgian peace and now Dordrecht is out of any possible influence from Fluxys2 and therefore Suez3... but you know something in the short time you've been researching there and that's why Kiryuu is keeping you. The French government is protecting you from any German soldier who might accidently decide to pick you off. Basically I need to know why Kiryuu is keeping you."
"No you don't, not really, Kuran probably sent you here for more pressing things than little old me. Good analysis though. You should get some rest, this couch is great for sleeping on, trust me, I know. I'm driving you up to Dordrecht tomorrow." Giliam stood and took both their mugs, neither of them really finished with it, and the coffee still acceptably warm, and made to put them in the sink.
"That's why Kiryuu allowed this whole rendezvous, he needed a truly legitimate reason for you to be able to get anywhere close to Dordrecht so you can do whatever it is you have to do. That's why Kaname sent me here without the Dordrecht region pass, but a one use veto licence, so you can use your suspended one just so you can transport me."
Giliam turned the tap off, but the mugs remained in the sink. "Zero can pull some mad strings, right? Don't be too angry about all the shitty red-tape that's tangling up, I know the roads in and out of Dordrecht like the back of my hand." From his place on the couch, Aidou groaned. Great, he was really with some shitty spy. "Meaning, I know how to get there using period boosts, without the checkpoints noticing a thing."
"False, I'm on the checkpoint watch-list. Judging by how quickly we get from one point to another, they will know if you've been boosting."
"Ok, but that one use veto is signed by the hand of Kaname Kuran, they wont be able to do anything about it. That and the French, along with the mysterious Kiryuu ways behind me, we're practically untouchable. Plus, come on, Waalwijk to Dordrecht without period boosts? Are you fucking kidding me? That's like, half an hour."
The spy was disappearing down the corridor which presumably led to a bedroom.
"Are you sleeping in Zero's bed?"
"... No, we are not fucking."
Aidou gave Giliam a disinterested, but appraising lookover. Wavy black hair, the longest strands brushing against the top of his ears, buzz-cut along the nape, but left long from the crest of his skull. Deep set eyes, eyelids that look traced over, prominent nose, upturned with feminine quality, high cheekbones with a soft edge, set in a way that the looked like he was sucking his cheeks in a little all the time, therefore pouting. He was a good looking male. Aidou was not interested.
"He would burn his bed if I even dared." And with that, Aidou was left to fall to sleep in the very clothes he travelled in. Disgusting. He had to stomach a train ride from the Rheine, changeover at Essen, changeover at Arnhem, to Hertogenbosch for crying out loud. The infrastructure in this area was truly appalling lately. Even more appalling was that Kiryuu was harbouring a non-human, who was also being pursued by the German government, protected by the French government, a powerful, old, multinational corporation and had a connection and some kind of clout in regards to Dordrecht and he wondered how much Kaname knew about it. Aidou barely whispered that question about Zero's bed and Giliam, had he been human, could not have conceivably heard it from the distance at which he stood. He sunk into the white covered cushions with a foul look on his face, at least the couch was comfortable.
He was woken by the slight burning sensation caused by all that damnable natural light flooding in from Zero's huge fucking wall of glass.
"Godfucker!" Aidou hissed as he swathed his right arm in cold water. He had a habit of sleeping face down, using his left arm as a secondary pillow in which to bury his face in, and this tendency saved him from having a singing face and a barely mobile writing hand. His right arm however, was not so lucky. The first thing he would do in Dordrecht was get himself 'vaccinated' against all the vampire ailments that would serve as an... easily fatal weakness in the current times. Zero would inject him or he would deal with Kaname making, what Aidou and Yuuki both believed to be a highly overdue personal visit to Dordrecht. Okay maybe not Kaname, it was probably a thousand years to early for such a reunion, perhaps reanimate Cross? Hm, no, there was a reason why Aidou was the one sent on this fucking mission...
"Behind on your vampire prescriptions I see."
Shit. Aidou was hoping Giliam would remain unaware of his infirmity. Fuck why was he so lax with this kind of thing. He helped develop the fucking drug! Fuck, fuck, fuck he was grumpy.
"Second drawer." Giliam drawled. He was in fresh clothes and hand drying his hair with a terry-cloth towel. Zero could be so old-fashioned. Aidou opened the drawers snarling, his arm still under a running stream of water, the mugs from yesterday remaining un-soaped. There was a bottle of generic painkillers, nail clippers, scissors and scotch tape and staplers and a comb with its store-tag still on and a tin which could easily contain mints rattling with the sound of what Aidou knew to be blood-tablets. Zero was very old-fashioned. Nevertheless, they would relieve the fucking sun-fucking-burn, and Aidou quickly re-rinsed a mug, filled it up, and downed a couple. As soon as he had swallowed, Giliam chucked a face towel at him.
"What the fu-!"
"Wash your face, it's 9 o'clock. Hurry up. Are these the keys to your car? Of course they are. Meet you down there. Lock the door on your way out."
Aidou ignored him and dampened the towel. He washed his face, squeezed the water out, rinsed it and dampened it once more. He drank some more water, wrapped the towel around his healing, but still sore arm, and headed downstairs. Worst thirty minutes of his life coming up, and he wasn't even driving.
The trip was mostly silent, Giliam enjoying bopping along to Aidou's musical tastes, which made the vampire want to kill the spy a little less, however, they weren't even two minutes out of Waalwijk before both noticed there was something off – it would have been a five minute drive had Giliam not used a period boost as soon as they were out of the busy part of town, that's not to say it was a covert operation, as a few kids in the suburbs did revel in seeing a car really go for the first time in a long time. What was with the government and boosting here anyway.
"That's it. There's no checkpoint exiting Waalwijk."
"It's probably up ahead."
"No, the locals used to complain about going through it all the time. I haven't been hearing that in a few weeks."
"... How long have you been at Kiryuu's."
"Five months? Six?"
That was longer than Aidou had anticipated, and changed a lot of things. The situation was triply dubious now.
Aidou remained silent, before he spotted the hated road sign.
"There, see, no biggie."
"... They're going to tell us to turn back. That's the only reason for moving it further."
"Do you hear yourself."
"They're not worried about out of towners who are just going to visit a member of the family on the outskirts, but someone who wants to go between one township and another is an area of investigation, especially if somethings happened. Something with the water levels."
The vampire wanted to see it play out. As they braked, they were instructed to turn back. After some heavy back-and-forth between the spy and the soldier, which Aidou saw as unnecessary "beating around the bush" in order to pry some more loose information, he stepped in and produced the magic card.
"Mr. Hanabusa, sir. I'm telling you," An American. "It'll be a waste to use this now, you wont be able to get anywhere. The flooding is severe."
Giliam laughed at flooding, which caused some raised tension amongst the other soldiers manning the checkpoint. There were right this time and all in full view. American, Russian, two Germans, Belgian, Chinese, Japanese and Indian. Aidou was concerned at the South-East Asian. Things had to be serious if the South-East Asians were involved.
"We'll take our chances."
Kaname hadn't sent him a cease and desist, so he had to continue. Besides, this military clout for flooding? Please.
The pair kept driving, noticing the weaning population in and around the area. It seemed like there was an evacuation effort that went under both their radars, which was a frustrating and slightly nauseating fact to behold. It was not until they reached the crossroads between the A59-IV and A52-III highways that they began to get a grasp of any flooding, and this perception escalated sharply in the three minutes it took them – boost free- to get to the Osterhout bridge. The Statendamweg road was nowhere to be seen. The river which had run perpendicular to it seemed to have tripled in width and its surface was startlingly close to the Osterhout bridge itself. When they reached the town of Made, it was disturbingly empty. Moreso, half of it was at least in someway submerged in water, most likely from the Noord-Brabant river.
"Lage Zwaluwe is gone." Giliam stated drolly. The Immigrant Song came on, neither responded. They reached Zevenbergschen Hoek, a 12 minute quick-drive away from Made because they had been, for the past 4 minutes driving in water. It had started out like strolls in rain-puddles, but the water in the car was up to their calves, and they were very close to the true Noord-Brabant river.
Giliam pulled out his phone. Boost was unworkable in these conditions, not with this rental in any case, so he was driving at a painfully slow pace. The water was only progressing higher and Aidou now sat crosslegged in his seat, bemoaning the water-logging of his pants. It was only on the third try that Giliams call was answered. Aidou was sitting in a regular position. The water had reached their waists so there was really no point. They were quick approaching the Lage-Zwaluwe train station which was in the middle of Zevenbergschen Hoek and the Noord-Brabant. It was also mind boggling far from the actual township of Lage-Zwaluwe which sat on the very banks of the river. Aidou imagined that Giliam would be right in assuming it was well breached by water.
"Yes, I need to speak to- look, cunt, I am well fucking aware that he is busy, anyone who knows him would have a detailed knowledge of how busy he is always, all day, forever. I am calling nevertheless, because its fucking important... she hung up on me." Giliam looked at the phone as if it was an idiot, then at Aidou. "She hung up on me."
"Gee I wonder why. On another note, you should probably get your feet off the accelerator."
The water had reached their chests. Aidou would not be driving any further and expected nothing less from Zero than a first class airlift. He summoned up some more spite, watching his towel bob in the water. At least his arm was cooling in the freezing water, even though it was mostly healed. Let no one say Aidou was a pessimist.
Giliam had employed all brakes and was calling once more.
"Zero? Zero, we're near the beginning of the A16 highway. Only car submerged in a shit ton of water, you need to tell me the story behind that. We were also not apprehended by the checkpoint, Kuran's got some serious leverage. Speaking about that, we haven't been checked up on, which is fortunate but weird." There was a pause. Then Giliam hung up.
"What? What's going on?"
"He said to give him 10 minutes."
"My god, there's fish out there."
Giliam jumped in his seat, the car rattled, Aidou shot him a look which spelled something along the lines of Do-That-Again-And-I-Will-Freeze-You.
"Holy fucking shit, so there is!"
The wait was filled with inquiries of "Hey Aidou, why don't you just freeze our route there, with your vampire magic." and replies of "Shut up, you stupid shit. A) Think about the logistics. B)Kiss any government immunity goodbye, you'll be in a holding cell before you could say 'And I didn't even get to fuck Zero Kiryuu'" and "You have to stop with that." Basically they were trying to ignore how cold it was.
Aidou didn't even hear, or sense the drone come before Giliam flashed a text saying telling them to get out of the car. Before the spy could do something stupid like open the fucking doors so they could get out, Aidou froze himself a spike of water and executed some vampire magic.
"You are the one with super-hearing, how could you stand doing that?"
"So you're a species without super-hearing. Good to know."
They climbed out of the hole Aidou had cut in the roof and into the jet ski drone Zero had sent. They were on the outskirts of Dordrecht so quickly, thanks to boosting, that they could not gain a scope of how bloated the Noord-Brabant/ Zuid-Holland had become. The two arrived at a utilitarian porting station, no tourist attractions or shops, strictly a line-up of drones and launch/landing stations which was built in front of a huge seawall. The place was maintained by bots rather than human resources, but it was crowded to the brim.
"All sorts of chaos when you try taking impromptu census for a population of 8 townships arriving at different times and in different numbers."
"I'm fairly impressed with the effort nevertheless, miss. This huge fucking disaster and no one knows about it. You guys must be ruling the airspace with an iron fist."
That's why Aidou had to take fucking public transport.
The woman was in her early to mid thirties, wrinkled but not to the point of noticeable, wearing a 'working-in-public-relations-and-hating-it' suit and grubby sneakers.
"You the fucker who called me a cunt over the phone?"
"...You were being unbearable."
"Shut your shit. Anyway, I'm not the face of the quasi-government that's been censoring all this crap, so lay off, and follow me."
They walked straight past security with no fuss and Aidou was immediately liking this woman, he could see that the port was organised in a target kind of formation, layers of seawalls with ports built into them and water in between for drones to drive into. It was when they had crossed the third seawall that Aidou noticed that the walls were getting shorter.
In response to his inquiry, "They're not getting shorter, we're going further below sea level. Dordrecht is like a massive dry hole in the ground that should be wet but isn't. Shut the fuck up." The last sentence was directed at Giliam.
"Anyway, I'm the manager of utility drones here, call me Yalda." Giliam gave her a look.
"Moroccan. I'm surprised they gave you a managerial position at all."
"Racist. How did Zero put up with you. Besides my Moroccan family has been in Dordrecht long before what ever you are has."
"Keep telling yourself that."
"In any case," Yalda carried on as they passed the final seawall, which was a longer thoroughfare than the rest because it was immensely thick, "congratulations on your re-entry into Dordrecht. I'm sure Suez is happy, and the French will be keeping in touch. Just remember that the Germans and the Belgians have their eye on you, and you are no longer reserving any favours from the Kuran, or Zero."
Aidou had only heard of Dordrecht, digital conferencing making it less of a necessity for diplomatic strains on airfare budgets, but Yalda was right that it was a massive fucking hole in the ground. Aidou was sure that there was some brilliant story behind that.
"Mr. Aidou, please follow me. You, good luck, disappear." Aidou followed Yalda to one of the executive elevators which took them down to the street levels of Dordrecht, and Aidou felt no need to look back at Giliam who would have wasted no time in scurrying for a ticket for a bus down to the main level himself, probably towards the French embassy. He would be keeping an eye on the researcher as well.
They had the elevator all to themselves and Yalda took the opportunity to inform Aidou of all his rights and responsibilities as a diplomatic representative in Dordrecht. His pass was to last for 6 weeks, any longer and he would need permission from all the embassies in power, although Yalda shot him a humorous glance at this clause. He was under Kuran protection, these were meaningless things to discuss. The elevator landed and both stepped into the terminal ring of Dordrecht wherein Aidou, along with his tour-guide, passed all the red-tape with glee. Yalda produced a console.
"Look into this." Aidou looked, there was a minute flash.
"Fingerprint here." He complied.
"Brilliant." Yalda pressed a few more buttons before Aidou felt a vibration in his pocket.
"That's got everything you need. Address to your apartment, passkey to your apartment, your diplomatic licence for your Dordrecht tenure and contact numbers to anyone you might conceivably need, that, you know, isn't actually anyone."
"Great, thank you."
"One last thing, stay on my good side, don't cause any damage to any civil bots or drones. Please. And take Exit B3, that should take you to your street the quickest. Later."
Aidou made it to the diplomatic quarter just fine. He was finding the Dordrecht, as he currently knew it to be a vibrant, interesting place. Political activity, exotic trade and a huge scientific forum and community were abound. Dare he say it, but perhaps Kaname had sent him on a job he might, remotely enjoy a facet of! He was suddenly tempted to clap his hands over his mouth, better not to tempt the gods.
His apartment was also no less than what he would expect a dignitary such as himself. Floor-to-window panes which enjoyed a fantastic view of Dordrecht, most importantly facing west and embedded with light-stone technology which turned the glass opaque at the command of a voice. Darkly polished floorboards, real wood, adorned with plush carpets. Fully fitted kitchen, even though he would have no need of it. Three bedrooms, another unnecessary nicety. King bed. Aidou chuckled darkly, marvelling at the multitude of pillows, the downy texture of the 500 count Egyptian cotton – because silk was for gaudy wannabes with no taste – and a mattress most likely fashioned from the fluffiest of duck feathers and the some kind of new age cotton-candy material, he didn't know he wasn't into poly-technics of the mattress industry but man it was magical. It was also a few million times too big.
Aidou poured himself a glass of white wine, fine vintage, from the stainless steel bucket of ice that had been awaiting him. Further investigation of his living quarters ensured that there was a cellar-room full of stuff of equal quality. Someone wanted to get him drunk. They were doing it very, very right.
He indulged in a two hour bath, accompanied by his original bottle of wine, and another which he began chilling as soon as he was pouring the second glass. There was a projector in the room, and he watched the latest news. There was no piece on the large scale water disaster involving the Noord-Brabant, or anything about the townships devastated. He was on his last glass of wine and nicely buzzed, thanking his genes which, considering his vampirism, was notably weak in alcohol tolerance, when he considered masturbating. But he was all nice, and clean, and wait he had a Dordrecht full of people he could seduce, what in fuck is he even thinking!
He nodded at the walk in wardrobe after a brief flip through. These would do nicely.
It was nearing four in the afternoon and his sleeping schedule was out of whack and the sheets felt amazing on his nakedness.
Aidou woke up at half past one in the morning at an insistent ringing from his front door. He pulled on some pyjama bottoms after a clumsy look through, and unhooked a bathrobe on his way to the living area. He was quite well rested actually, but waking up was never the most graceful of his moments. The doorbell insisted that its ringer was a Kiryuu Zero, head archivist at the Dordrecht Quasi Research Facility. He decided to ask who it was anyway.
"It's who it says on the fucking doorbell."
Ah, that voice, that gentle mannerism, Aidou had to hold back a chortle.
He unlocked the door without opening it and walked into the kitchen.
"Come in. What do you want to drink."
"Water."
Aidou had finished pouring water before he heard the "Please." What a spaz.
He put the water on the counter then turned the kitchen lights on, and uttered the command to turn the window translucent once more. The night lights were a charming sight, but not as charming as Zero's insomniac countenance.
"Wow you look beautiful."
"Shut up."
"No seriously, they eyebag's really compliment your complexion of death. Limp hair is very trendy lately to."
"You need to stop talking."
"You need to sleep."
"I'm sorry, did you not sail across that fucking river or was that just me sending out an imaginary drone."
"What, that was your fault alone?" Aidou rolled his eyes, he could, around Zero. He was also on another glass of alcohol, Alizé vintage on the rocks. Huh, he didn't notice himself doing that. He took a sip. Whatever.
Then he realised Zero hadn't answered. He took another sip.
"Honestly?"
"I don't even know, right now Aidou. There's a lot going on. Why else would I let myself be roped into Kuran business again."
"I'm here so you can explain it to me?"
He got another bout of silence from Zero, which equated to something like, I'm just tired right now.
So instead of talking serious shit, Aidou poured salt onto a plate, sliced some lemons and limes – he preferred lemons, Zero was a lime fan - and got out two shot glasses and some Espolon, also vintage.
Who ever did this whole set up for him; godsend. Guaranteed place in the Kuran good-books if Aidou could help it.
"So, why have that Yalda woman do my introduction."
"The drone thing was kind of, not, sanctioned. She had access."
"I thought she only managed domestic drones."
"Mm."
Aidou loved how there were a lot of stories in this place. Really. He was going to thoroughly enjoy these six weeks.
They lay down on the floor, as Aidou was prone to do strange things like ignore the perfectly good furniture which would have elevated him from carpet level, when he spent time with the Kiryuu, and watched the lights of Dordrecht. It was a Wednesday night, but the place was in full swing.
"Wait, here, take these."
"You keep a pill box in your wallet. I am concerned."
"It'll lower the vampiric resistance to alcohol."
They downed it with tequila.
It was only on their third bottle, when Aidou switched from Espolon to some new label called Canteria, which wasn't bad, but didn't have the four-century heritage Espolon so fashionably wore, that both were drifting in a nice case of tipsy.
"I noticed something, Aidou."
Zero's voice was softer, smoother, when he was intoxicated. Aidou wouldn't call it husky, not yet.
"What."
"You've grown in the past two and a half centuries."
Aidou had noticed that too, he was only an inch and a little shorter than the archivist.
"Yep."
Aidou skipped this round, opting instead to watch Zero lick the junction of his right index finger and thumb, dropping a pinch of salt onto it, licking it again, where Aidou just barely catches a flash of those fangs, Zero's control of hiding them progressively laxing the more alcohol he ingests. He tips his whole head back in drinking, but the motor functions weren't accurate, and Aidou is presented with a long, pale column of throat, arching clavicles and that damned hollow in between pronouncing itself, as Zero had shed his coat long ago and was left only in a loose fitting, thin knit sweater. Aidou watches a thin stream of tequila escape from the left corner of Zero's agave-glossed mouth, watching it slip under his jaw, watching Zero wipe it with the same hand he licks salt off, watching Zero lick that stray bit of tequila from that same joint, watching Zero suck languidly on that lime, and in taking it out of his mouth, his eyes met Aidou's own. And Aidou hasn't eye-fucked anyone harder than Zero in that moment.
They laid still for a little bit, before Zero begun to pour another round of shots, filling Aidou's own glass this time, keeping his gaze steadily on Aidou's own stare, without looking like he's conscious of any of it.
It's almost five in the morning when they are both in bed. Aidou in his huge king bed, and Kiryuu in the second most luxurious room in the pad. The archivist has to be alert and at work at eight o'clock and there's a slight guilt in Aidou for initiating the drinking session so irresponsibly, knowing that Kiryuu, in his stressed state, wouldn't even think to refuse. A few things had changed.
There was that, and there was the fact that he was a lot taller than before, only an inch and a little shorter than Zero, and his sexual horizons in the past two-hundred fifty or so years have broadened.
Aidou is well aware that he's half-hard, and he allows for a small swipe of his thumb against the head of his clothed cock. It felt disgustingly good.
A few things have changed and among them he knows that, if Zero could take it, if the Kiryuu didn't mind being fucked by a guy an inch and a bit shorter than him, someone whose professed that he couldn't ever imagine being anything but the bottom in sex, that, he would gladly, so gladly, eye-bags and limp hair and all if that was unavoidable, repeatedly fuck Zero into a coma.
AN: I have no idea what I'm doing. Is that obvious? I don't really know the pairings, for now I'll just say everybody fucks. YAY!