Tee hee...time to have some fun with Dilandau's little mind! I *still* don't know where I'm taking this thing, but thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed for coming along on the ride. ^_^ We'll see what we can do to torture our favorite pyro a little more.
=== "Say Please" by Morgan Steelgrave - Chapter Three ===
Folken heard Dilandau and Meret's approach long before they reached his door. He could not help but allow himself a small smirk as he paused, beaker in hand, to listen to their bickering.
"You didn't like how they were behaving, so I took care of it," Meret was saying. Folken flinched when Dilandau yelled his reply.
"Who asked you to take care of it?!"
"You didn't have to, but I knew you wanted to teach them a lesson. I just did it to make you happy," she explained. It fell on deaf ears, apparently.
"I had it under control!"
"Of course you did. I just wanted to have a little fun. What's wrong with having a little fun with them?" The patronizing tone in Meret's voice was well-masked, but Folken could easily detect it. He had to admit, she knew exactly how to handle Dilandau and how far she could push. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that any rage he vented on her had no permanent effect; if he tried to attack her, she would dodge. If he screamed at her, she would sit and listen absently until he was done, then say something to enrage him even more. Folken had a feeling the djinni woman's presence would add a certain color to the Vione...not to mention it was entertaining to watch Dilandau make an idiot of himself around her.
He heard something thump against the corridor wall. "They belonged to Green Regiment of the Zaibach Army! You do not have *fun* with them, or my men!" Folken whistled softly. Dilandau was really getting angry now. The Dragonslayers were his territory, and whatever Meret had done had threatened his superiority.
In the hallway, Dilandau had backed Meret against the wall and was yelling at her, inches from her face. She shrugged. "It's not my fault you were hung over and slept late. I warned you that would happen, anyway."
"Not your..." Dilandau laughed as if the idea was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Of course it's your fault!" Meret ignored his accusations and continued with her explanation.
"You were asleep, so I got bored and went exploring. I found your men waiting for you, too, so I thought I'd provide a little diversion."
"You wanted to show off, you mean," Dilandau interrupted sourly. Meret gave him her best innocent look and opened her mouth to respond, but he continued right over her. "Don't even bother to deny it! You're a show-off! Look at me, I can float around and do stupid magic tricks! You were showing off in the barracks, and you were showing off yesterday in the battle at Ta-Jesur!"
"They're not stupid magic tricks," Meret scowled. "And you're one to talk. You're spoiled rotten. You think everyone should bend over backwards to do your bidding, but the minute someone isn't terrified enough to do what you tell them to do, you pout!"
Dilandau inhaled sharply. "I do not *pout*," he spat.
"Yes, you do. Then you go wallow in your misery, and expect the rest of us to tiptoe around you then next morning because you were stupid enough to get drunk and you're starting to feel the effects!" She smiled evilly, a look of intense determination on her face. "Well, somebody around here has to make you realize what an ass you're making of yourself, and how badly you're treating everybody else. If I can do something as impossible as that, I think I have a right to show off! So what?" The girl poked one long finger at Dilandau's armored chest, pushing him backward with each word. "You thought it was funny when I made Gatti's pants fall down. I'll bet you thought it was funny when I scared those soldiers in the hall."
"Did not," Dilandau argued. It occurred to him that whenever he was around the djinni girl he was reduced to either arguing like an angry child, or communicating in a string of slurred, furious expletives. She had pushed him back against the wall by then, and he hit it with a clang of metal on metal.
"Did too! Admit it! You thought it was funny!" She was really going after him now, still poking his chest, leaning into him to emphasize her point.
Maybe he *had* thought it was a little funny, but he would be damned if he would ever admit it. Aloud, he said, "Did not."
"Did too!"
"Did not. Shut up." His head still hurt from the previous night's indulgence and her antics were not helping. The fact that she was enjoying her wicked torments made it even worse.
"Did too!"
"Shut up!"
"Did too, did too, did too!"
It was then that Dilandau finally snapped. He was going to shut her up one way or another, and if he couldn't kill her or get rid of her, he would shut her up with the only desperate means he had at hand. He covered her mouth with the most convenient thing he could come up with: *his* mouth.
It was effective, at least. At his sudden lunge forward, Meret had been prepared to dodge some kind of attack, but the kiss caught her totally off-guard. She went ramrod straight until he parted from her.
"Now will you PLEASE shut up?!" He squared his shoulders and gave her a look that dared her to retaliate.
Meret stood perfectly still for a long moment, staring at him. Then a slow smile spread across her face. Dilandau's glare melted into a grimace of abject horror as he recognized the look on her face. He tried to back away, but he was caught between Meret and the wall...a rock and a hard place. A very, very scary hard place, he realized as Meret pounced with a small growl.
Dilandau's yelp could be heard in his office, but several minutes of eerie quiet passed before Folken's brows knitted themselves into concern. He wondered if it had been possible for Dilandau to kill the girl, after all, though he expected her execution would exhibit howls of joyous triumph on the Dragonslayer's part. And fire, he added; there would definitely be fire involved. Perhaps he had incurred her wrath and was dead, instead. Either way, the Strategos had to find out what was going on.
Opening the door to the hall, Folken straightened his sorcerer's robes in an attempt to look a little more like he was on official business instead of simply being nosy. When he glanced up, however, his eyes widened in surprise and he had to duck back into his office to staunch the flow of his sudden nosebleed. He sat down heavily in his chair, holding a handkerchief to his nose. He had been right; Meret was certainly adding a little color to life on the Vione.
* * *
It was a while before Dilandau appeared inside his office, clothes disheveled, hair mussed, a smear of lipstick on his face. He threw open the heavy door and then slammed it hard behind him, leaning on it and panting. His eyes had the glazed, paranoid look of a fox surrounded by a pack of rabid dogs.
"What the hell was that?! Where's the girl?" Folken demanded, his voice muffled by the handkerchief. Dilandau was still staring off into space, not focusing on anything in the room in particular. The Strategos waved his hand in front of Dilandau's face until the Dragonslayer blinked, returning to the present. "Dilandau?"
"Probably out sucking someone else's soul out through their face," Dilandau replied with hollow sarcasm.
"Dilandau," Folken intoned.
"Fine. She went to tell Gatti he could pull his pants up," he said, still leaning against the door. Upon glancing up, the look on Folken's face indicated that further explanation was necessary. Dilandau slid down the door until he was sitting against it, one knee hugged against his chest. "She played a prank on Gatti earlier and made his pants fall down. I made him stand there like that as punishment for goofing off."
"I see," Folken nodded. "And what was that prank she was playing on you out in the hall?" Folken was pleasantly surprised to see Dilandau blush as he floundered for a response.
"She tackled me!" he finally managed to say in his own defense, though it was not at all convincing. Folken raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so maybe I started it," Dilandau grudgingly conceded, throwing his hands into the air, "but what else was I supposed to do? I have to show her who's in charge! I'm not going to take this damned curse sitting down!"
Folken remarked dryly, "Well, I feel quite sure Meret knows exactly who is in charge, and you didn't appear to be taking the curse sitting down at all." Dilandau frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but Folken held up his hand to silence him. "That aside, why are you here, Dilandau?"
"I want to know if there's a way to remove the curse," Dilandau replied as he stood up and brushed himself off. "You seemed to know what that crazy priest was saying. Can you undo whatever the hell it is he did?"
"I'm not sure. I'll have to look into it." Folken seated himself at his desk once more and resumed his experiment.
"Why don't you just get the guy to reverse it? I'm sure I could persuade him to do it." He cracked his gloved knuckles and grinned. Folken sighed.
"It's not that simple, Dilandau. You can't torture him. Zaibach needs him to help cement our political holdings in the region. But," Folken added, ignoring what he knew was a scowl of exasperation on the Dragonslayer's face, "I'll see what I can do."
"Well, you do that. I've got training to do," Dilandau said to Folken's back. He started for the door.
"Oh, and Dilandau," Folken called after him. Dilandau paused in the doorway.
"What?"
"Lipstick." Folken pointed to his own face, his back still turned to Dilandau.
"Oh. Right," he scrubbed absently at the side of his face as he shut the door behind him. Folken smiled slightly. He would have to thank Meret later, he thought. Dilandau had never been so entertaining.
- TO BE CONTINUED -
=== "Say Please" by Morgan Steelgrave - Chapter Three ===
Folken heard Dilandau and Meret's approach long before they reached his door. He could not help but allow himself a small smirk as he paused, beaker in hand, to listen to their bickering.
"You didn't like how they were behaving, so I took care of it," Meret was saying. Folken flinched when Dilandau yelled his reply.
"Who asked you to take care of it?!"
"You didn't have to, but I knew you wanted to teach them a lesson. I just did it to make you happy," she explained. It fell on deaf ears, apparently.
"I had it under control!"
"Of course you did. I just wanted to have a little fun. What's wrong with having a little fun with them?" The patronizing tone in Meret's voice was well-masked, but Folken could easily detect it. He had to admit, she knew exactly how to handle Dilandau and how far she could push. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that any rage he vented on her had no permanent effect; if he tried to attack her, she would dodge. If he screamed at her, she would sit and listen absently until he was done, then say something to enrage him even more. Folken had a feeling the djinni woman's presence would add a certain color to the Vione...not to mention it was entertaining to watch Dilandau make an idiot of himself around her.
He heard something thump against the corridor wall. "They belonged to Green Regiment of the Zaibach Army! You do not have *fun* with them, or my men!" Folken whistled softly. Dilandau was really getting angry now. The Dragonslayers were his territory, and whatever Meret had done had threatened his superiority.
In the hallway, Dilandau had backed Meret against the wall and was yelling at her, inches from her face. She shrugged. "It's not my fault you were hung over and slept late. I warned you that would happen, anyway."
"Not your..." Dilandau laughed as if the idea was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Of course it's your fault!" Meret ignored his accusations and continued with her explanation.
"You were asleep, so I got bored and went exploring. I found your men waiting for you, too, so I thought I'd provide a little diversion."
"You wanted to show off, you mean," Dilandau interrupted sourly. Meret gave him her best innocent look and opened her mouth to respond, but he continued right over her. "Don't even bother to deny it! You're a show-off! Look at me, I can float around and do stupid magic tricks! You were showing off in the barracks, and you were showing off yesterday in the battle at Ta-Jesur!"
"They're not stupid magic tricks," Meret scowled. "And you're one to talk. You're spoiled rotten. You think everyone should bend over backwards to do your bidding, but the minute someone isn't terrified enough to do what you tell them to do, you pout!"
Dilandau inhaled sharply. "I do not *pout*," he spat.
"Yes, you do. Then you go wallow in your misery, and expect the rest of us to tiptoe around you then next morning because you were stupid enough to get drunk and you're starting to feel the effects!" She smiled evilly, a look of intense determination on her face. "Well, somebody around here has to make you realize what an ass you're making of yourself, and how badly you're treating everybody else. If I can do something as impossible as that, I think I have a right to show off! So what?" The girl poked one long finger at Dilandau's armored chest, pushing him backward with each word. "You thought it was funny when I made Gatti's pants fall down. I'll bet you thought it was funny when I scared those soldiers in the hall."
"Did not," Dilandau argued. It occurred to him that whenever he was around the djinni girl he was reduced to either arguing like an angry child, or communicating in a string of slurred, furious expletives. She had pushed him back against the wall by then, and he hit it with a clang of metal on metal.
"Did too! Admit it! You thought it was funny!" She was really going after him now, still poking his chest, leaning into him to emphasize her point.
Maybe he *had* thought it was a little funny, but he would be damned if he would ever admit it. Aloud, he said, "Did not."
"Did too!"
"Did not. Shut up." His head still hurt from the previous night's indulgence and her antics were not helping. The fact that she was enjoying her wicked torments made it even worse.
"Did too!"
"Shut up!"
"Did too, did too, did too!"
It was then that Dilandau finally snapped. He was going to shut her up one way or another, and if he couldn't kill her or get rid of her, he would shut her up with the only desperate means he had at hand. He covered her mouth with the most convenient thing he could come up with: *his* mouth.
It was effective, at least. At his sudden lunge forward, Meret had been prepared to dodge some kind of attack, but the kiss caught her totally off-guard. She went ramrod straight until he parted from her.
"Now will you PLEASE shut up?!" He squared his shoulders and gave her a look that dared her to retaliate.
Meret stood perfectly still for a long moment, staring at him. Then a slow smile spread across her face. Dilandau's glare melted into a grimace of abject horror as he recognized the look on her face. He tried to back away, but he was caught between Meret and the wall...a rock and a hard place. A very, very scary hard place, he realized as Meret pounced with a small growl.
Dilandau's yelp could be heard in his office, but several minutes of eerie quiet passed before Folken's brows knitted themselves into concern. He wondered if it had been possible for Dilandau to kill the girl, after all, though he expected her execution would exhibit howls of joyous triumph on the Dragonslayer's part. And fire, he added; there would definitely be fire involved. Perhaps he had incurred her wrath and was dead, instead. Either way, the Strategos had to find out what was going on.
Opening the door to the hall, Folken straightened his sorcerer's robes in an attempt to look a little more like he was on official business instead of simply being nosy. When he glanced up, however, his eyes widened in surprise and he had to duck back into his office to staunch the flow of his sudden nosebleed. He sat down heavily in his chair, holding a handkerchief to his nose. He had been right; Meret was certainly adding a little color to life on the Vione.
* * *
It was a while before Dilandau appeared inside his office, clothes disheveled, hair mussed, a smear of lipstick on his face. He threw open the heavy door and then slammed it hard behind him, leaning on it and panting. His eyes had the glazed, paranoid look of a fox surrounded by a pack of rabid dogs.
"What the hell was that?! Where's the girl?" Folken demanded, his voice muffled by the handkerchief. Dilandau was still staring off into space, not focusing on anything in the room in particular. The Strategos waved his hand in front of Dilandau's face until the Dragonslayer blinked, returning to the present. "Dilandau?"
"Probably out sucking someone else's soul out through their face," Dilandau replied with hollow sarcasm.
"Dilandau," Folken intoned.
"Fine. She went to tell Gatti he could pull his pants up," he said, still leaning against the door. Upon glancing up, the look on Folken's face indicated that further explanation was necessary. Dilandau slid down the door until he was sitting against it, one knee hugged against his chest. "She played a prank on Gatti earlier and made his pants fall down. I made him stand there like that as punishment for goofing off."
"I see," Folken nodded. "And what was that prank she was playing on you out in the hall?" Folken was pleasantly surprised to see Dilandau blush as he floundered for a response.
"She tackled me!" he finally managed to say in his own defense, though it was not at all convincing. Folken raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so maybe I started it," Dilandau grudgingly conceded, throwing his hands into the air, "but what else was I supposed to do? I have to show her who's in charge! I'm not going to take this damned curse sitting down!"
Folken remarked dryly, "Well, I feel quite sure Meret knows exactly who is in charge, and you didn't appear to be taking the curse sitting down at all." Dilandau frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but Folken held up his hand to silence him. "That aside, why are you here, Dilandau?"
"I want to know if there's a way to remove the curse," Dilandau replied as he stood up and brushed himself off. "You seemed to know what that crazy priest was saying. Can you undo whatever the hell it is he did?"
"I'm not sure. I'll have to look into it." Folken seated himself at his desk once more and resumed his experiment.
"Why don't you just get the guy to reverse it? I'm sure I could persuade him to do it." He cracked his gloved knuckles and grinned. Folken sighed.
"It's not that simple, Dilandau. You can't torture him. Zaibach needs him to help cement our political holdings in the region. But," Folken added, ignoring what he knew was a scowl of exasperation on the Dragonslayer's face, "I'll see what I can do."
"Well, you do that. I've got training to do," Dilandau said to Folken's back. He started for the door.
"Oh, and Dilandau," Folken called after him. Dilandau paused in the doorway.
"What?"
"Lipstick." Folken pointed to his own face, his back still turned to Dilandau.
"Oh. Right," he scrubbed absently at the side of his face as he shut the door behind him. Folken smiled slightly. He would have to thank Meret later, he thought. Dilandau had never been so entertaining.
- TO BE CONTINUED -
