"And you'll look after me always?"
Violet grins. "Unto Hell, my dear sister. Unto Hell, and perhaps even back. Aren't you lucky?"
"You look different." Poppy stares at her with eyes as wide and dark as if she had taken their namesake in herbs - Nightshade, a nerve-poison turned cosmetic.
"So do you. Why, you almost look like you're on strychnine, from your grin."
"And you look like you were in a fight." Poppy pouts as she moves closer to her sister, fingers that are scarred from all her dealings with the too-stubborn rose thorns gently brushing against her sister's eyelids.
"It's called eye shadow, darling." Violet smiles, black lipstick resolutely failing to catch the light. There's a silence, and Poppy wonders what the Hell has happened to her dearest one.
"So, uh, how was Spookane?"
"I loved it. Missed you every second, though."
Poppy jitters one Mary-Jane-clad foot behind her, nervous. It's words like that that make her wonder whether the black-clad woman before her is really her sister. She half-wishes she wasn't.
"Meet any interesting people?"
Blink. "Yes, actually.
Soft, silken, white fingers tug delicately at the obi sash, and a slip-slashing of pale skin is revealed as the kimono is slid open. Kimono cast aside, fingers contact flesh, and surprise jolts the babyish vampire into biting down onto her lover's lips. Violet dismisses this without even a shrug, continuing steadfastly with her movements.
"You look totally lost."
"Apologies. Is there room for me here yet?"
"I guess. I was sort of planning to move into town, actually…"
"Oh." Her voice is empty.
"But, you can stay with me as long as I'm here! And you can follow me into town, if you want!"
"That's fine, darling. I'm sure I could find my own way around here."
Duchess Beverly treats Violet to a look of what she probably thinks is withering scorn. Violet is patient for sixty-nine seconds, snapping them off in her head, before she returns it with one of her own. It could have killed a cactus at a fifty paces.
"Do you have any designs on my son? I'm afraid that couldn't do. There are lots of more eligible candidates."
"No, ma'am. I can't say I have any interest in your son whatever, ma'am."
"And you won't dally with my guard?"
"No, ma'am, I shall not. Honestly, ma'am, I couldn't care less about any of the miscellaneous males I'm sure you have scattered about the island. I might be responsible for the subversion of a few of your young women, though. Ma'am."
Duchess Beverly considers this, completely missing the intended meaning. Surely the girls here have been raised well enough not to be corrupted, and maybe they might even have a positive influence on this spooky heathen. Yes, that would be permissible.
"Fine. Be nice to Poppy, though. She's a good girl."
Aforementioned spooky heathen blinks. "Didn't you know, ma'am? She's my sister."
"Oh." Duchess Beverly tilts her head. No, she can't see the resemblance at all. "You'll be bedding with her, then?"
Violet would have laughed, if she didn't know how completely oblivious the Duchess is. As it is, she confines herself to a thin smile. "I suppose so, ma'am."
He sees her from a distance. It's impossible to mistake her, with that headpiece. She is standing with a girl from the village. It should be easy to get the girl away - an imperious stare would do the trick.
Then, he would have her all to herself.
He stops when he is close enough to see their eyes. Violet appears to be kissing the village-girl.
"You've deflowered half the girls in the village, for God's sake!"
"Deflowered?" She raises a painted eyebrow. "Hardly, Lord Daniel. You got to them first, after all." She pauses. "Oh, and it's more like three quarters."
"Kiss me." He says it without thinking.
"Go screw yourself." She turns, and she leaves.
"I'm being forcibly ejected from Cutopia. Apparently our Lord Daniel went telling tales to his darling dearest mama." There's an exhaustion in Violet's face that catches at Poppy's heartstrings.
"What?" she says, at once wishing it untrue and knowing it isn't. "He wouldn't do that!"
Violet is silent, simply looks at her sister and waits.
"Oh. Okay. Maybe he would."
"I'll miss you, you know?" Violet's voice is rough as she watches her sister lessen the distance between them by a tentative step.
"I'll miss you too. Hey, you think you'll ever come back?"
"I guess. Technically, the banishment's only for a year. I'll return if you need anything."
"Great."
Maybe Poppy was planning to say more things, but her mouth is suddenly occupied. She is dimly aware of being hustled towards her bedroom.
"Violet! You're my sister, this is wrong, this is wrong, this is-" She stops. A slim hand glides smoothly up her leg, under a skirt.
"Well, you can't say you're not enjoying it." Her sister's voice is low, somehow changed.
"Mmph."
"I guess I should be leaving." Violet casts a lazy glance at her sister, double-taking a moment. It's been an age since she last saw Poppy with her hair down.
"Do you have to go?" Sleep-addled and gasping soft.
"I guess. I'll be back in a year, after all. Promise."
"And you'll look after me after that? For forever and always?"
"Like I said. Unto Hell and back."
A/N: The StoryID for this amuses me.
~Mademise Morte, May 5, 2011.