CHAPTER 2—THE DOUBLE-DOUBLE DATE (Draven & Cassiopeia + Darius & Katarina)
Although I am still in a pretty black mood while getting ready for dining out, as I look at myself in the mirror I have to admit that I look pretty impressive in formal wear. For that matter, so does my brother Draven, who is standing right beside me admiring himself as only a career narcissist can.
"Damn I look good," he says. "And you're not half bad. Man, I bet we don't even make it to the dessert before they can no longer keep their hands off of us."
"You're incorrigible, Draven."
"Not Draven: Draaaven," drawls my brother with a grin. We share a chuckle and head out for the restaurant.
The Institute of War is built on the site of an old caravanserai that was the northern terminus of the major north-south trade route from Shurima, and which later was a free city on the southwest border of Noxus. The new city—often just called New City—owes most of its modern infrastructure to the Institute of War.
We will be dining at fancy and somewhat exclusive place called simply The Oasis. It has the advantage of being willing to cater to champions of the League, with their varying body types and sizes, idiosyncratic or even murderous ways, and extreme personal power levels.
Such as Cassiopeia, who is a naga, with a snake's body where her legs should be. Cassiopeia was a terrible flirt before she was cursed, and still likes to play the vamp. Tonight she is dressed in a low-cut evening dress under a highly ornamented jacket.
"Well, hello handsome!" she says as we enter the restaurant.
"Hello, gorgeous," replies Draven, who assumes the compliment was meant for him. He strolls over and Cassiopeia hooks her arm into his.
"Looks like I'm stuck with you, Darius," says Katarina glumly.
"What, don't you trust me?"
"Sure, you are Mr. Reliable. So I can rely upon not having any fun."
Draven interjects, "Don't worry Kat—I've been coaching him since the last time."
"Too bad that won't make any difference," states Cassiopeia. "Katarina doesn't know how to have fun either."
Katarina gives her sister a dirty look.
Draven grins. "Maybe we should swap, brother. Cassiopeia can show you a good time, while Katarina can have some Draven."
"I thought we were here for dinner," I comment.
"Sure, but I am planning ahead."
"Fine, you do that."
We are seated and a waiter leaves a couple trays of appetizers. Rather than use her fingers or a fork, Katarina decides to use one of her large knives to spear herself a shrimp. Unfortunately she stabs so hard she hits the rim of the plate and flips it up, catapulting shrimp cocktail all over the front of my suit, and ruining my tie.
"You're an idiot," escapes from my lips before I can clamp them shut. "There is no need to show up for dinner armed for battle."
Katarina gives me a hostile look—more hostile than her usual surly—and says, "I need to be able to defend myself against jerks who are trying to pick me up and won't take no for an answer."
"I've never once tried to pick you up," I observe, "and I don't think tonight will be any different."
That wasn't the right thing to say. Katarina is now looking at me with outright hatred.
"You're an arrogant bastard, you should know that Darius. I think I'd rather make small talk with Sion."
"Good luck with that," laughs Draven. "Unless by small talk you mean exchanging screams of the damned and groans of agony. Hey, brother, just lose the jacket, tie, and dress shirt. I know I'm going to ditch mine at first opportunity."
The evening already seems to be heading for disaster, so I sigh, accept my fate, and strip to the waist. Now if Katarina flings any more food at me I can just wipe it off. Fortunately at The Oasis the dress code is rather broadly interpreted.
"Hey brother, I bet you are wishing now that you waxed your chest hair," laughs Draven.
"Don't be ridiculous. No self-respecting man waxes."
"Gladiators do. I do," responds my brother.
"How you manage to respect yourself is beyond me, frankly," I say.
"Must be natural talent," suggests Draven. "What amazes me is how you manage to constantly avoid having a sense of humour. If you had a sense of humour, you would actually be charming. Right Kat?"
The assassin is silent for a few seconds before replying, "I suppose, in the hypothetical, that could be true. I'll believe it when I see it though, because your brother doesn't look like he'll be changing his dour unforgiving outlook on life any time soon."
"Yeah, too bad," admits Draven. "Still, since when do you require a sense of humour in your men, Kat? Didn't you have a thing for that Garen fellow—he's the Demacian equivalent of Darius, to my mind."
"I am nothing like Garen," I insist, but both of the girls are quick to agree with Draven.
"Except that Garen is more sympathetic," adds Katarina.
"How can you prefer a Demacian?" I ask. "Surely you can find a Noxian to your taste. How about Talon, doesn't he have a major crush?"
"Ooh, yes, he sure does," exclaims Cassiopeia. "My sister is a bit stuck up though—she doesn't want to date the hired help."
Katarina and Cassiopeia are the daughters of a general, and Talon was one of the general's servants—with some interesting talents not found in just any ostler, groundskeeper, or cook. You might think that now that Talon has made good and become a Champion of the League, he'd be more acceptable, but apparently not.
"I am not stuck up. There are other reasons I don't want to date Talon," insists Katerina. Her sister rolls her eyes, tilts her head back, and delicately touches her nose with an index finger. Katerina responds hotly, "Stop that at once!"
Cassiopeia laughs. Teasing her sister is apparently one of her great joys in life. Draven leans forward and says, "I have an idea. A real Draven Special."
I groan. "And here I was thinking the evening couldn't get any worse."
Draven ignores the taunt. "You'll thank me soon enough, brother. I'm sure what I have to suggest is right up your alley. A contest. We all know how much you love to win. This will be your chance."
"This had better be better than your last Draven Special," I warned. "I still remember that you forced me to play you at chess. A complete and utter waste of my time. I'll have you know that I can give Heimerdinger a good game, while you are more at the level of Ziggs."
"Ha ha, who cares. That wasn't the point. Didn't you like the chess pieces?"
"What, you mean the fact that you staged the game on a patio with almost nude brothel girls playing all the pieces? As if that was likely to distract me in any way."
Draven and Cassiopeia break into uproarious laughter. When they finally stop, he turns to Katarina and says with a knowing wink, "THAT was the point."
My brother is so juvenile. I feel like walking out, but I can't let them see that they got to me.
"You should know, brother, that there are valid philosophies other than hedonism," I point out.
"I'm not a hedonist, I'm an epicure," retorts Draven.
"You're a what?" asks Cassiopeia, surprised to see such words in Draven's active vocabulary.
"As in, I don't seek just any old pleasures, I enjoy the finer things in life." Draven flashes his perfect teeth. "My brother Darius, he's also better than people think. He's no mere killjoy, he's a true stoic."
Katarina asks, "Why would you bother to study ancient philosophies, Draven? I don't figure you have any use for higher education."
Draven puts his arm around her shoulder and in a low, conspiratorial tone, informs her, "You figured wrong. The ability to appear educated is important—you can't pick up certain women without it."
"Ah! Of course, I should have known." Katarina shakes her head but manages to stop herself from facepalming.
Draven changes the subject, "Anyway, unless you've already decided that you need some Draven tonight, I suggest you listen to my idea for a contest." He looks at Katarina hopefully.
"You don't get it, do you?" says Katarina. "I already told you that I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last Noxian man on Runeterra."
"Yeah, but that was several weeks ago," observes Draven pleasantly, never one to take rejection as final.
"Never mind my sister," interrupts Cassiopeia impatiently. "Tell us about your contest."
"I hope that it is more challenging that beating you at chess," I remind my brother. "The greater the challenge, the greater the pleasure I derive from beating it.
"OK, listen to this…"
End of Chapter 2
Next: The Contest