In which a story a thousand years old, finally comes to its conclusion...[takes place: September 29, 2021]
tw -- blood, violence, gore, death
@arthur-of-camelot
ZIRA:
The gala erupted into chaos.
She had expected it to but it was no matter. The blur of her children collecting their fallen victims could be scene from her perch on the second story balcony landing. Hers had already been collected.
All except one. He was standing in the middle of the chaos, shoulder to shoulder with Arthur himself--shouting directions, trying to get people in order. It was, honestly, a bit unnerving how much he reminded her of Kay. Though, until that moment, she had all but forgotten about her brother. It had, after all, been a thousand years.
Through the shouting and the chaos of overturned tables, Zira made her way down the stairs, at her normal speed this time. She slunk right up behind Simba. He was tall, but she was stronger. Grabbing him by the shoulder, she forced him to his knees and drew her sword, pressing it to his neck in one fluid motion.
"Your Majesty," she called to Arthur above the chaos. "Drop your sword."
ARTHUR:
Arthur had watched as one by one people started dropping like flies, and there was an anger that simmered that Arthur couldn't allow to overwhelm him. People needed him. His knights needed support. He could not allow himself to be distracted by it.
He instructed his knights to split up. Some to find cures for the people, some to get people out, some to fight. They had to do what they could with everyone disoriented and distracted.
He found his way over to Zira, Excalibur in his hand ready to take the vampire on. But of course, even now she was stooping to low tactics, using Simba as a shield. "Don't tell me even now you're too afraid to face me Zira? I thought you would at least give me the courtesy of not using others as a pawn here."
ZIRA:
"Arthur, don't worry about me," Simba grunted.
"Oh, shut up," Zira said, rolling her eyes as Simba fruitlessly struggled against her, his long legs thrashing out. She ignored him, far too strong to even worry.
"He's not a pawn," Zira smiled and stroked the side of Simba's head with the back of her knuckles as she grinned at Arthur. "He is an extremely important part of the puzzle. With his death, the Lyons line will end. And so too will the charter that protects this town. You can't tell me you actually want to uphold that abhorrent document, do you, Arthur? When such innocent blood was spilt to make it?â
ARTHUR:
"That document is the reason that so many magicks can have a safe haven." Arthur took a step toward them, Excalibur glistening. He glanced at her grip, determining when he could move to try to free Simba from it.
"Yet you cower behind him. If you were unconcerned about me, you wouldn't feel the need to hold someone before you like this. Isn't that right?" Arthur pointed his sword at her. "Will you face me and make this ridiculous fight end between us? Once and for all?"
ZIRA:
Zira scoffed.
"That charter is the reason my daughter is dead. This fight isn't about you, Arthur. Though, I am not surprised you think that. This fight is to undo an injustice that was done years ago. Why should I fight you on a fair field? I already have everything I need. One twitch of my arm, and this boy dies. Along with all of my suffering. I could crush you both with one clench of my fist. You are no threat to me."
That may be true, but there were far more of these so-called knights than she had anticipated. All around them, they were keeping her children occupied. All the safe guards she had set up could not prepare her for the sheer amount of them.
Zira would not be intimidated, however. This was her show.
ARTHUR:
"And for that injustice you're willing to doom everyone else around you? How is that right? You know if I'd known that was the cost I would have chosen differently." Arthur would never willingly have let an innocent die for something like that.
But Arthur refused to let her continue to win. He was going to stop her. He had to. So Arthur did two things at once: he tossed some salt to try to be able to contain the space where Zira might be, and he swung Excalibur at Zira's arm, trying to disconnect her from Simba as quickly as possible.
"Simba get out of here."
ZIRA:
Arthur's words meant little to her. After a thousand years, they bounced off her like nothing. It was too late. Her mind was already made up. She had told herself the story and that as all that mattered. Nothing else could. She had come too far. Done too much. There were fifteen people, poisoned, slowly dying and hundreds of others strewn across the centuries. All leading up to this moment. She could not waver.
When Arthur lunged, Zira turned on instinct, bringing Simba with her, but her actions were much slower than usual, as if she had weights attached to her limbs. She felt the sharp cut of Excalibur against her arm and jerked before letting go on instinct.
Simba let out a shout and collapsed forward, catching himself on one hand and scrambling away.
"No!" Zira shouted and lunged for him, but her foot it the thing white line that encircled herself and Arthur. She snarled as she turned and looked at him, but when she did, she smiled and then laughed, her own dagger flashing in the light as she raised it.
"You think your little sword can take me out? Pathetic." She lunged, but she was still sluggish, the salt sapping her strength. The wound on her arm did not bleed, but it also did not heal. What did that mean? Zira could not think of that. She had to stay focused.
She was so close.
ARTHUR:
Arthur couldn't help but smirk. She had underestimated him. It was certainly not the first time she'd done it, but this time Arthur was going to use it to his advantage and bring her down. He had already managed to get Simba away from her and cut her with Excalibur. This was good. This meant he could cause some harm to her. He could do this.
"Do you have any idea of Excalibur's power?" Arthur asked with a laugh, dodging her linge and swinging at her with his sword again, attempting to get at her neck. "You've miscalculated. And it will be your undoing.â
ZIRA:
Zira grit her jaw but then she smiled again as she swept under Arthur's second swing. Even though she did not have her vampire speed, she still had a thousand years of combat to her name. Arthur had died on a battleground a thousand years ago. When it came to fighting, she was confident still in her skills.
"You keep saying that," Zira snarled as she swiped at Arthur's ribs with her dagger. She tried to ignore the sting of the wound on her arm, but it alarmed her. Zira hadn't felt true pain in a thousand years. If she had a heart that beat, it would be going rapid fire, but it was calm and still as it had always been in her chest. At this point, Zira wasn't even sure she had a heart. It had rotted long ago.
"I haven't lost yet." She lunged forward herself this time, intending to catch him off balance.
ARTHUR:
"I keep saying that, and I'm right." Arthur twisted to the side to avoid getting caught by her dagger. Everyone else around him faded to the background as he recalled his lessons in fighting, and all the practice he had had since he'd arrived in Swynlake.
Zira lunged forward, and Arthur saw an opportunity there, trying to move to the side and stab with his sword all at once. If he could hit her, if he could pierce her with Excalibur...maybe it would be enough. Maybe Excalibur could bring her down if he got her in the chest.
He stabbed forward, praying that his sword would be guided to where it needed to be.
ZIRA:
At the last moment, Zira realized her mistakes.
No, not all the ones that came before. How she had let cruelty, fear, and revenge guide her actions up until this point. That she could find no regrets for. Her only regret was her overconfidence in this moment, having over-calculated her lunge. She was not used to having to be so precise. It had been a long time since she had been worried in a fight, had actually had to fight. She had spent too long not caring about blades that pierced her skin. It had never hurt.
But as Excalibur slid between her ribs, she felt it. It burned, hot and sharp.
Zira let out a breath. A breath she didn't know she had. One that she must have been holding for a thousand years. When her mouth opened, blood dribbled from her lips, eyes wide in shock. The pain radiated down her arms and into her legs. For a moment, everything paused. She stood there and looked only at Arthur.
At the man, but saw the boy he had once been. Courting her sister. Playing in the yard with her brother. Once, she had loved him.
They were close enough that it looked as if they could be embracing.
Zira thrust her dagger into his chest without a word.
It took the rest of her energy. When she stumbled back, Arthur's sword was red with her blood. Excalibur, red with her blood. It had been a long time since she had seen it. For a moment, she felt alive. Bleeding, in pain.
Zira had never expected to die. After a thousand years, you stop worrying about such things. So, she had never prepared for it, or thought about what she might want to remember, in those last moments.
It was not her Nuka, nor her Vitani--so valiant and true soldiers--that she thought about. Nor was it Merlin, Arthur himself, or her brother or sister. It was not her children. It was not her old life or the way the trees used to whisper to her.
It was not her sons. It was not her daughter, Nyah.
What she thought about, instead, was one simple, final question: did I succeed?
As that thought echoed through her mind, Zira crumpled to the ground. The light leaving her eyes.
Her final question was answered moments later as the bowl in which all the burned ingredients and the blood combined began to burn quite on its own--the charter, which they had stolen from Town Hall, began to burn as well. The smoke rose up through the room, growing thicker and blacker until it covered the entire manor and then began to spread, its tendrils racing toward every corner of Swynlake...
For most, this was not a night of magical significance to any witches. It was, however, the night indicated by the spell. The spell that had been bound by her daughterâs blood. The spell that she had worked tirelessly the last year and a half to undo. The last thousand yearsâŠwaiting.
The ball below glittered with light and laughter. Some guests were twirling across the floor. Others were eating the hors dâoeuvres. She watched from the second floor landing as her compelled servants in their glimmering red silk jackets passed out glasses of champagne.
Once everyone had been given their goblet, she tapped her ownâspelled to echo around the great hall. All her guests turned towards her.
âWelcome to Talon Hall. I am honored you all have chosen to join us. Tonight is a very important night for myself and my family and we are glad you are here. Please, let us raise a glass to the prosperity of our beloved Swynlake and all the people in it.â
TONY:
Eilonwy had told Tony to try to leave town this weekend, had told him that it was best to skip the gala at Talon Hall because she knew something was going to be happening that she wanted Tony to have no part in. His intention had always been to follow that advice because Tony had had enough Swynlake shenanigans for multiple lifetimes but a hitch had been found in that plan.
Mim Ambrosius had told Tony she was going to be at said party.
Tony had debated with himself as he paced back and forth through his flat whether he should heed Eilonwy's warning by trying to go for a stay in NTO (he'd be kinda sick the whole time but he'd be safe) or if he should take Eilonwy's warning seriously by staying back to help the people who he cared about that would otherwise be left behind.
Without Ian in town to help him bounce the idea off of, Tony had decided upon the latter.
So now here he stood, all dolled up for this event styled around fate and destiny (which could only be a bad sign) and looked up as Zira herself began to speak. He raised his own glass, a pit forming in his stomach, before taking a swig in cheers.
What happened next was rather swift, Tony would later recount, as he felt an odd sensation spread through his body after the first gulp. Everything went fuzzy, his eyes fluttering open and closed as a dizzy spell hit him and he began to stumble toward a table to catch himself.
Unfortunately, Tony didn't make it that far before collapsing onto the ground unconscious, a pawn in whatever game Zira was playing.
ANASTASIA:
Annie was feeling a little queasy too, but it wasnât anything to do with a sense that something terrible might happen. It probably had more to do with the copious amounts of the charcuterie board Annie had consumedâ she wasnât lactose intolerant, but sometimes she wondered if she might be, if she should talk to her doctor about it, and yet she still had stress-eaten way too much cheese. So she was standing there in her own regret and misery, and thank goodness for the sweet waitstaff who had brought her a ginger ale, because she was really looking forward to taking a sip when Zira stood up to give her toast.
Right. A toast. The polite thing to do was wait for the toast before she drank.
She forced a smile and raised her glass high, pretending to listen to what Zira said. And then Annie took a large gulp. It wasnât long before she started to see spotsâ maybe she was having a more serious issue than an upset stomach, she thoughtâ and the last thing she remembered was stumbling backward into a chaise, sitting down to try and take a few deep breaths before she flopped to the side dramatically, out cold.
Yup, she had definitely eatenâ or drankâ something she shouldnât have. And it wasnât just the cheese.
GREG:
This was meant to be his first attempt at getting back into events. It was going on a year now....so he figured he couldn't keep hiding in his room with every passing Gala, dance or other stupid hosted event. The fear that clouded his mind from last fall would have to fade at some point...right?
So - Gregory was going to test the waters. He was going to attend this stupid party. Alone... because he didn't want the commitment of needing to stay long and...also because some of the people he trusted the most were simply out of town. But no matter - he simply stuck to the outskirts. Near the exits. Just in case...
Eventually a glass had been all but shoved into his hands by a passing staff member, and Gregory was confused until he'd heard the sign of a speech beginning. Right. His gaze settled on Zira - and his fingers curled a little tighter against the glass. ...maybe he should leave. Came the thought in the back of his mind as he listened, a skip in his heartbeat as he realized...he didn't want to be here. Didn't feel safe here. But he couldn't leave now - not with everyone stopped and listening. He didn't want to be rude. Gregory had no choice but to endure the brief toast - his goblet barely raising in a small returned gesture before he took a quick sip and began backing away.
Alright, he'd stayed long enough.
He winced as he turned quickly on his heel, a searing pain flashing through his head as he pressed a hand to his temple. For a moment the room swayed beneath his feet and he felt himself stumble. What was that? Panic rose in his chest as he tried to right himself, his vision only continuing to spin as darkness blotted the corners of his vision.
oh no.
"....âMr. M-.." Gregory couldn't even call out for help before his knees buckled beneath him and he dropped to the ground - the cup clattering across the floor.
SORA:
Honestly Sora only really had like...an hour before he would want to go to bed. That was his usual bedtime really, but he'd gotten this fancy party invite and for once he didn't want to miss out!
Sure, would he only have a little bit of time before he dipped out? Yeah. But whatever. The important thing was that he got to go and wear this cool galaxy-esque suit and have a little bit of fun.
Did he know anything about this Zira lady? No, but whatever. She was hosting a cool party and he was sure with this many people here it could only be amazing. He held up his glass like everyone else and took a big sip. It took a bit but a dizzy spell hit him and he stumbled, knocking into someone with a mumbled apology and then spinning out and collapsing to the ground.
He passed out almost instantly, and then it was like the magic that affected him and Roxas was disturbed. He flickered. For moments there was Roxas, then Sora, then Roxas again, unconscious and the magic repeating itself in confusion.
MARISA:
Marisa smiled at Mattie and raised her glass. Honestly, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to be drinking too, just that Ms. Blackwell seemed happy about it. How wonderful!
Joy was joy, was it not? Marisa was just happy to share in her joy, whatever it was for.
She brought the goblet to her lips and made a face at the taste as she often did with alcohol. Oh, alcohol. you taste like trash but you make a party fun! What wasn't fun? How quickly she began to feel woozy. Okay, okay, as a siren, her tolerance was certainly lower than a humans like all merfolk. But surely, surely her tolerance wasn't failing her at a single sip.
It couldn't be! She hadn't even pregamed! Or, or had mind-blowing sex with Mattie beforehand! (She always seemed to be light-headed after sex with her...huh.)
Marisa took a second, defiant sip. How dare her body play this trick on her, right?
It wasn't until the first victim fell that Marisa understood what was going on. It wasn't her body, but the goblet, or rather, what was inside of it.
"Ma-Marzelito, algo va mal," she muttered, defaulting to her native Spanish because something was very wrong indeed. "Marzel, -" and she fell unceremoniously to the ground, her legs unable to hold her weight anymore.
FRANNY:
Like most everyone else in the room, Franny raised her glass and helped herself to the free alcohol. And why wouldn't she?
It did not occur to her, until her brain began to fog, that maybe she shouldn't have.
For once, Franny Robinson wasn't special. She was not chosen because of her musical abilities, her songwriting talent, her acting skills, or her name recognition. She was just a boring, standard issue, mundus woman. And for the first time in her life, just being a mundus was all she needed to be for someone to need -- or, rather, use her.
Shortly after the woman with olive skin and black hair standing nearby her fell, she stumbled into her husband and Tallulah, nearly sending Tallulah down with her.
TOBY:
Normally, Toby did not accept any offered food or drink when he was working. He had too many allergies and far be it from him to miss any sort of big event because of a temperamental tummy. This was why he did not have a glass of any kind in his hands when Ms. Blackwell caught everyoneâs attention.
Then, peering around him, he realized he was the only person who didnât have one. It was then that he made the decision that he would take the risk to be apart of something, even if it was a simple toast. He tried to find someone from the waitstaff but there was no one around! Everyone was already lifting their glasses, clinking them together, and he was getting desperate. What he did spot, where he had wound up next to the back wall and tables, was an orphaned glass, lipstick print on the rim. It didnât even look half emptied and no one was even looking at him to notice!
He picked up the glass and turned around to join everyone, but they had already taken their drinks. Oh well, even if he was a bit late, he still raised the glass and took a sip. Pulling it away his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at it, the after taste lingering on the back of his tongue. Hey! That was pretty good! Toby took another, longer, drink from it.
Suddenly there was a lot of commotion as bodies started dropping to the floor. Glass shattered, gasps and screams filled the room. Toby set the glass down and stepped forward because finally! Something was happening! And he was there to-!
With a clunk, Toby hit the ground, too.
ERROL:
It was not every night that Errol found himself attending a gala at one of the swanky manors in The Woods, which already meant he was a bit in edge about the whole affair. However, most of the town had been invited, that he could see, so he forced himself to relax.
Took a glass of champagne, too, despite the wolf whining in his chest, unsure and skittish about all the new smells, the stench of the building itself thst they were in. He toyed with the stem of it throughout the speech, half listening as he tuned out the sounds of people morning around him, trying to get a grasp on the wolf as it shifted and squirmed beneath his skin, disquieted by something he could not entirely put his finger on.
Errol toasted to the good health of Swynlake, though some days he felt it was an empty hope that this bloody town would continue on with all the mucking about its magic liked to do. His brow furrowed at the taste, nostrils flaring, and as he pulled back to look at the glass, it slipped from between his fingers.
Errol wobbled, his glass shattered against the floor, and his body followed suit, legs unable to hold his weight any longer.
HOLLEY:
Holley was here because this was only the latest of extravagant parties thrown by Zira Blackwell, and she was curious â it was a story for the Squire, but also Holley had done some digging on Zira Blackwell and had found impressively⊠nothing. Well practically nothing. Just traces of nothing, and Holley had been doing this long enough (well, not actually, but in her mind) to recognize when nothing was actually something.
So here she was, decked out in a lovely gown, raising a glass, while her eyes flitted around the ballroom. She did not know what she would find, only that it was probably important to keep an eye out on the Blackwells, because there was something going on thereâŠ
And if there was, well, then Holley could say that she trusted her gut and figured it out!
She lifted the glass to her lips, taking a long sip, and then â
Her head felt woozy.
Something about this drink tasted off.
Before Holley could recall her poison training, her knees buckled, and she tumbled to the floor and everything went black.
OLLIE:
It was the first ball-esk event that Paz and Ollie were going together as a couple and he was excited, nervous to the point he almost hadn't been able to tie a tie and almost had to ask for help again (from Roscoe of all people) but the man had taught him well the first time that once he calmed down he could manage it.
And the night was going well, he was flirting they were talking of dancing and there was an unsettled feeling in Ollie's chest. But he ignored it.
It was when Ollie took the sip at the toast that he knew he made a mistake. Maybe Swynlake and his grandparent's money had made him soft. Â Back in New York any feeling like that would have sent the boys running or they would have been a lot more cautious. Trusting their gut.
Ollie had grown complacent.
As everything blurred and swayed Ollie reached out trying to grab Pacifica's arm trying to balance, to keep himself upright. The glass fell out of his hand first shattering on the ground.
Looking for his family. He needed to find them something was wrong.
His knees buckled and he held onto Pacifica tighter. "Find my Family." Ollie mumbled out loosening his grip on his girlfriend.
When he hit the ground his last thought was where everyone else was.
QUEEN CLARION:
Clarion didn't often go to events such as these. One because there were so many in the Hollow to look after, and two if she didn't have the Hollow to worry over there were her clients for her cases. She didn't give herself much personal time.
She had allowed herself the rarest of moments for Nyx, but that was something she would hold close to her chest. This however seemed to be an important celebration, and Clarion felt more comfortable going with the knowledge that she had someone in the Hollow who was learning how to do what she did.
Atta remained in the Hollow, and Clarion could be a little more at ease as she and Nyx drifted into the party. They were handed glasses for a toast and she didn't think much of it, waiting as others did until the host of the night gave her toast.
Clarion raised her glass and then took a sip of her drink. She turned to Nyx to say something, only to stumble, her vision blurring and the pixie dust fluttering around her. "Nyx!" She shouted in alarm, tumbling backwards, quickly losing her battle with consciousness.
She did have one thought of Atta, of her poor young trainee, which may have been why there was a burst of magic, a bright light emitted from the queen as magic and pixie dust flew through the air to try and locate Atta.
DIAN:
Dian was out of his element. Most events were skipped, and if he did make an appearance it was a short one. This event, however, was special. Something was in the air.
He took a swig of his champagne that was insisted into his hand moments before as Zira toasted. It was obviously a fine glass, dry and bubbly in all the right ways... but there was another sensation creeping up behind it. A wooziness Dian hadn't felt since his college days, back when he was fun his brothers would say. A sip surely couldn't do that much.
And then it hit him.
The swirling in his head soon became a swirling in the glass he held from the swaying of his body. Thoughts of his family were added to the whirlpool as he fell to his knees. Where were they? Were they okay? Was this happening to them? In the seconds before he lost consciousness, Dian scanned the room for his brothers... Praying that they didn't drink. Praying that they didn't see him. Praying they'd just leave and save themselves.
He didn't catch a glimpse of any of them before his eyes closed.
HADES:
Hades knew this whole bloody thing was going to be a goddamn trap. Yeah, he walked right into it on purpose-- call that foolish or call him confident. He was probably both at once, and in hindsight, he'd have done things differently. But then again, had there been any choice?
Belle was a knight. This was his town. He was the ambassador-- one of the strongest magicks Swynlake had to defend itself. He went with these things in mind, hoping that once Zira started her master plan, he could take her down.
"Keep your eyes peeled," he'd said at one point to Belle. They were on high alert, but tried to blend into the party.
That was why he'd taken the drink.
He wasn't going to actually drink it. It was a prop. Just a sip, every now and then, the liquid barely passing his lips...
When everyone began to collapse, Hades knew he'd miscalculated. They all had. An ambassador was useful, but only if the ambassador wasn't turned into prey. "Belle!" he gasped, when the poison began to do its work. His knees buckled and the room went black.
FLYNN:
Flynn really shouldn't even be touching alcohol right now, not with the massive headache that was currently pounding behind his temples. His ears had been ringing all night, the opal around his neck singing off-key in his head at a pitch that felt like he was being stabbed between the eyes (And yeah, he'd asked Rapunzel, she couldn't hear a damn thing). He'd tried taking it off earlier, but the resulting mental screech and feeling of panic and distress quickly stopped him.
He'd never met a party he didn't like, but fuck, he just wanted to go home. He had barely even paid attention to all the Very Valuable Artifacts that were scattered around the room in glass cases! That's how you knew it was dire!
He hadn't paid attention to who had passed him the champagne flute, and barely paid mind to the toast the woman hosting the event was giving. He was just going to finish this toast, find his girls, tell them he was leaving, and then he was gone.
The champagne was delicious, at least.
Until the room started spinning faster and faster, his tongue thick in his mouth. Oh shit. Oh fuck! He recognized this feeling.
Finn looked around, drooping eyes frantic as he looked for anyone he recognized, either the Baron's men or anyone they might have hired, but he only saw the crowd become panicked as other guests began to hit the floor like marionettes with their strings cut. He took a step, unsure of where he was even planning to go, but the floor quickly rose to meet him instead.
There was one more off-key scream that stabbed through his head, sharp and cold and scared, and then Eugene knew no more.
ZIRA:
The board member was a sacrifice only because of a loophole. (Him? Royalty? Pah.) Zira was uninterested in him. Though, it was also possible he would die and it would cause an unstable board. He was nearest to her and she zipped easily to his side, catching him before heâd even fully fallen. She bared her teeth at his friend before she slashed the dagger across his wrist in one quick swipe. The blood collected in a vial as the blond crumpled into a lump.
In a blink, she was at the side of the reporter. Chosen because it would do no good if this got out before Zira was good and ready for it. With half of their measly staff down, the newspaper would not easily be functioning. She knelt and slashed her blade across Holleyâs palm, collecting her blood and moving onto the next before she could even smell itâs sweet scent.
The crowd was growing more panicked now. Several people were diving towards the exits. Zira did not mind. The people she wanted were right here and wouldnât run. Either because they were poisoned or because they were stupid. She grabbed the man trying to protect his wife and tossed him halfway across the room with one push. Useless humans, no matter how smart. Someone came at her with a bloody sword--one of the knights--just as she reached down to grab the singer. Zira jerked the woman up and turned away from the arc of the sword. It harmlessly swept through the air and Zira, no longer being precise, dug her dagger into the womanâs arm before tossing her carelessly onto the ground and searching for her next victim.
It would be rude to keep true royalty waiting, so next, she slipped through the shadows near where the fairy queen lay. Of course, she was surrounded by her loyal guard, but they were easy enough to dispatch. No one was a match for a thousand year old vampire on a power trip. If Zira had a beating heart, her veins would be thrumming with the thrill of it all. She wrenched the queen up by her arm where she lay face down. Something popped. Leaning over, Zira slashed at her shoulder, the only place she could find access and then dropped her again to the ground. A shame, she was such a pretty thing.
Dear Dian. The poor thing. Zira hoped that he felt special now. She had chosen him because he was one of her favourite pets. Zira pitied him. He was so desperate to prove himself. Now was his time to shine. He could be part of this, part of something that wasnât his insipid family. How proud he should be. Zira collected him where he had gone to the top of the stairs, to help some of the victims? Zira didnât care about his intentions. It had been moments since sheâd disappeared and there were several people on the stairs, swords drawn.
âZira!â
Ah, noble Simba. He had spotted her from where he was standing in the middle of the chaos, shoulder to shoulder with Arthur himself--shouting directions, trying to get people in order. It was, honestly, a bit unnerving how much he reminded her of Kay. Though, until that moment, she had all but forgotten about her brother. It had, after all, been a thousand years.
In the blink of an eye, Zira slashed her dagger down his arm and shoulder and then pushed him roughly backwards, his limp body falling like a puppet with its strings cut (wasnât that what he was?) as he tumbled down the stairs, landing at the bottom with his head at an extremely awkward angle.
âOops.â Zira smiled and then, in the blink of an eye was in front of Simba, grabbing him by the shoulder, forcing him to his knees, her dagger pressed to his neck in one fluid motion.
"Your Majesty," she called to Arthur above the chaos. "Drop your sword."
[this confrontation continued here]
NUKA:
Nuka watched everyone fall, as he held the unconscious Willa in his arms, her mother was here as expected and so were Tiana and Aurora, what he hadnât accounted for or expected was both of them to jump into action. He had wanted Tiana to cower in fear like she did every time. He wanted to see Aurora falter the way she had last time.
But it was fine, it didn't matter too much to him. Nuka had all the time in the world for the game. Right now all he needed was a bit of Willaâs blood and with a prick of her finger, Nuka collected it. Abandoning her on a nearby table.
Donât worry little Willa, or the girls trying to rescue her. He would be back for her. He still had a game to finish.
His next choice was a human, one he had seen quite a bit at the hospital lately, working with kids. How kind and caring. Not really.
Grabbing Ollieâs right arm he cut horizontally deep enough that it was quite a bit of blood and exactly how Nuka liked it. Really Nuka should have punctured each of the flowers on his chest but he was being nice and time was more important. He could play with his food later.
Nuka ran over to the next target glancing up only briefly at his Mother and Arthur as they began to tumble. Heâd help her soon, not that she needed it, Arthur was unmatched in both brilliance and brawn. He had no chance.
But Nuka felt that tick of annoyance building up. How dare any of them think they could face them. How dare they try to oppose them.
Grabbing the boy's wrist Nuka made a slash  drawing the blood needed and even though his wrist dripped blood it wasnât enough for Nuka. Dropping the boy roughly he kicked him in the ribs forcing him back into a wall feeling just slightly better at the small act of violence.
Salt - They had trapped his Mother with salt. These people were prepared for it and it pissed Nuka off. He needed to move quicker. As that anger ticked higher and higher, the only thing stopping him from jumping in and killing the knights was the fact his Mother needed him to collect the blood.
One more to go after this. Grabbing Tonyâs arm roughly he heard the bone crack before he even drew the blood, but Nukaâs eyes were wild as he slowly stopped caring.
Not that he did before but he dug into Tonyâs skin to draw his blood before running off to his next target.
Nukaâs last target already had a knight over her body, his sword drawn to protect her. Did all of his games have to have knights attached to them? It was annoying. Dull. Boring. Blood needed to be drawn first before they really fought.
Maybe she was a distraction and he would be useless.
Either way he still had to get through him. Rushing Marzel, Nuka grabbed the sword in his palm so even though it sliced him he disarmed Marzel grabbing him around the throat so he couldnât speak.
âWe did our research. We know your kind. Donât think your voice is going to save you here.â Nuka mocked holding tighter and tighter until Marzel couldnât breath. The sword tossed to the side, Nuka reached over with his bloody hand though it healed and snapped Marzelâs wrist as Marzel kicked out with the power only a mermanâs tail could have (Well with legs) pushing Nuka away and dropping Marzel again in front of his sister.
Coughing out Marzel leaned low. He didnât have his human weapon but he would fight to the death to protect his sister.
Nuka didnât have the time, Arthur was fighting his Mother and she needed the charter broken now.
Rushing ahead Nuka didnât attempt to play nice anymore, slamming Marzel into the wall and letting him fall limply to the ground.
Marisa was next. And Nuka was pissed off. Grabbing the girlâs throat he squeezed watching her even unconscious struggle for a breath before he sliced down her arm, watching the blood fall like a waterfall. More than enough to shatter that charter. And with this he had done what he needed to do.
Werenât you proud of him, Mother?
Looking up at his Mother to see how she was doing, that elation dropped and Nuka snarled, she was bleeding.
What had he done, what had Arthur done! She wasnât healing!
Nuka needed to get to her, to protect her. And as he worried about his mother his grip tightened on Marisaâs neck, cracks heard but not cared about. It was this distraction that allowed Marzel his opening. Slicing his sword through Nuka forcing him to drop Marisa, Marzel rushed to catch her and stop her head from cracking on the ground.
Grabbing his sister Marzel checked her pulse, watching her head lull to the side. At first he couldnât even find it and when he did it just grew weaker, fainter. Her name could heal- maybe- hopefully. He just needed to stop the bleeding as it pooled around them.
Marzel scrambled to rip off pieces of his jacket trying to stop the bleeding. Begging his sister to live. They were supposed to go back to the ocean, they were supposed to lead their pod. He was going to follow her to the ends of the earth.
He had only been here to protect her.
The sobs ripped out of his throat as he tried to save her as he begged for help, covered in her blood.
âMarisa, please. Please. Iâm sorry Iâm sorry I couldnât protect you. Iâm sorry. Please just wake up. Iâll do better next time please. I wonât fail again. Please. Iâm sorry Valentino I promised you Iâd protect my family and I failed again. Please please. Just give me this chance.â Marzel begged again and again as his sisterâs head lulled to the side.
Those words couldnât be the last. Those words couldnât be the last ones he heard from her.
This couldnât be the end, it couldnât.
âWake up please. Wake up.â
VITANI:
Vitani jumped into action before the last victimâs body hit the ground. She didnât notice some of the silly humans daring to challenge her mother because why would they? Ha!
The Blackwell family had one purpose on this earth and tonight they were fulfilling that purpose.
She lunged for her first victim, one of the mundus whose blood she was to draw.
Vitani drew a dagger and sliced it across the annoying little journalistâs leg. What a pity. He finally has something to write about, in the middle of the action, but heâs out cold. Or it would be a pity if Vitani cared enough about human men to consider his situation.
Just for funsies, she gave him a kick, lifting him a couple meters into the air and sending him skidding across the manor floor. Someone give the sorry fuck some painkillers when he comes to.
Coming to her next victim, another mundus, Vitani was given a beatâs pause only because she wasnât sure how he should go about this. She was pretty. A better version of Vitani wouldâve been gentle with her.
If it wasnât clear by now, none of the Blackwells were good people.
She slid her dagger across the apple of one of her cheeks, purposely sparing her life and taking more care with her than with the journalist, but unable to resist leaving a lasting impression on the woman.
 That cut wouldnât fully heal for months.
Her ears were finely tuned to the sounds of Nuka, Kovu, and her motherâs voices. As she made her way to Hades, she caught enough of her motherâs exchange with Arthur to know it was intense. Maybe even more intense than Zira Blackwell herself thought it would be.
Vitani banished that thought as there was no time to falter. Blood first. Then she can help her mother crush Arthurâs bones into dust.
She slashed Hadesâ arm hard with her dagger, her nerves getting the best of her and preventing the cut from being as clean as Annie Tremaineâs. Oh, well. Heâd live if the medical services werenât complete dolts.
Errol, eh?
Vitani knew her boss had turned werewolf the second she came near him in town afterward. She ran to her mother to announce sheâd found one, sheâd found their wolf! Why, she even invited Errol personally to their grand event.
Naturally, Vitani should do the honors.
The daggerâs handle bent against her iron grip as she slashed his upper left arm with a shout.
Are you proud of me now, Mother? Now that victory is a hairâs width away?
Her last sacrifice within her grasp, one would forgive her if her guard lowered. Luckily, it didnât.
What was she, an amateur? No, Zira made sure of that. She created her children for this purpose alone and she raised them well. Every moment of their hundreds of years on this earth led them to this night and Vitani would not be the one that screws things up.
That was soft little Kovuâs job if anybodyâs.
Vitani nicked the unconscious manâs arm with her dagger, collecting his blood in a vial, and turned to look for someone to torment. Thereâs gotta be someone here she can kill.
Everything is Proceeding as I Have Foreseen . [Nura]
nuka-blackwellâ:
âI think it might be quite entertaining to let the little gossip blog advertise for us. Could shame people town wide for not following the dress code. It would be simply entertaining to read.â Nuka mused with a laugh. As stupid as that blog was, the way it could rile some people up was more than entertaining.
âGive them the invitation first I bet you they run wild without us needing to do anything. And if they make it worse, well Iâm sure we could figure out who it is pretty easily. and have some fun.â
That was a thought. Zira tilted her head and considered it. The gossip had been integral to solidifying her popularity among town, which was, in turn, integral to her plans. It was a silly thing, but harmless. Especially considering how much it fawned over her.Â
And it would save her and her children the trouble. After all, they had much bigger wheels to set in motion.Â
âVery well, I will send them an invitation. I doubt we will need to go so far as to reveal them, but you are right. It would be easy to discover. In the meantime, I was wondering if you had any opinions on the champagne we should serve for the toast, considering how special it will be.â She smirked.Â
You are cordially invited to the Fated Ball. The theme is fate and destiny, the dress code is black, white, gold, silver, and red accents. Event begins on Wednesday, September 29th! (Yes, this WILL be a flash event that effects the whole town, so be prepared for that. More info will drop day of!)
if you would like to be refunded for your outfit, simply send a receipt to Ziraâs email: [email protected]. additionally, if you cannot afford to front the money for an outfit, you can send your costume elements to the same email above and Ziraâs assistant will purchase your outfits.
Everything is Proceeding as I Have Foreseen . [Nura]
nuka-blackwellâ:
âThat is very true Mother. I forget just how mundane they are. I wouldnât want to imagine just how terrible they would have dressed for the previous events if not for your generosity.â Even the previous events Nuka had seen what they thought was attractive and looked good on them.
It really wasnât.
âBy now this town knows we have standards. Perhaps we should add an acceptable style to the invitations. Give some ideas to those with no taste. Perhaps set up a website with moodboards and aesthetics.â
âHm, thatâs an idea, but who do I trust with such a thing? Certainly not that insipid gossip blog. And I am far too busy to handle such matters on my own.âÂ
It was true, after all. It was a good idea. This town needed help. There were a handful of people that she trusted to come on theme, but everyone else? no, it was a nightmare. This was not Paris, or even New York City, or LA. Or Tokyo. No culture, no class. She was, truly, doing this town a favor getting rid of it, making it uninhabitable.Â
âI wouldnât insult you or Vitani with such a chore.â She crossed her arms, tapping her chin in thought.
It had been a long time since Ratigan had sat on this side of this sort of conversation. For years he had been the one asking people to convince him of why they should be allowed into the network he had created, what could they offer him in return?Â
When he had been working for the family, these sorts of talks would be almost routine. Many people always thought it was Josef who ran the household (he also liked to believe this) but it had always been his wife. Mila knew everything about everything and ran the business cleaner than any before her. It was why it had taken someone (an oversight) from the inside to take her down, otherwise it would have been impossible.Â
She had been who he reported to when he returned from a job and should he have done something to upset her she would ask the same thingâ why did he deserve to make this right?Â
âYou shouldnât.â He wouldnât. He didnât believe in second chances with this sort of work. âAnd no amount of words I try to speak will ever prove that. But I am willing to do what needs to be done, whatever that may be, and if given the chance, I will do it with the knowledge that it will be the last should I repeat my mistakes.âÂ
Zira considered the wolf.
There were several elements to be taken into consideration. Zira had not come to the power that she had without being forgiving sometimes and unforgiving otherwise. The advantages of being allies with a werewolf certainly outweighed the disadvantages. And he had not fucked up so badly last time. It had been several months since then. If the wolves were going to get their revenge, they would have. Zira was certain that they knew she had put out the hit on the little wolf. After all, she had had her eye on the little lawyer, who was clearly working with Arthur.Â
Still, did Zira need the wolf? She didnât think so. All the pieces were moving into place. There were already plans in place for every part of her strategy.
A wolf would help. And it would keep the heat off of her.Â
âVery well,â Zira replied smoothly with her eyes narrowed still. âI have received information that they are keeping a weather vane in the abandoned castle in the woods.â She let this location hang for a moment, let him absorb it was the other werewolfâs castle. âRetrieve it.â
Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
Holy water cannot help you now
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
And no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out
I'm gonna raise the stakes, I'm gonna smoke you out
Seven devils all around me!
Seven devils in my house!
See they were there when I woke up this morning
I'll be dead before the day is done
Seven devils all around you
Seven devils in your house
See I was dead when I woke up this morning
I'll be dead before the day is done
Before the day is done
And now all your love will be exorcised
And we will find you saints to be canonized
And it's an even song
It's a melody
It's a battle cry
It's a symphony
Seven devils all around me
Seven devils in my house
See they were there when I woke up this morning
I'll be dead before the day is done
Seven devils all around you
Seven devils in your house
See I was dead when I woke up this morning
I'll be dead before the day is done
Before the day is done
Before the day is done
Before the day is done
They can keep me out
'Til I tear the walls
'Til I save your heart
And to take your soul
For what has been done
Cannot be undone
In the evil's heart
In the evil's soul
Seven devils all around you
Seven devils in your house
See I was dead when I woke up this morning
I'll be dead before the day is done
'Fore the day is done
Everything is Proceeding as I Have Foreseen . [Nura]
nuka-blackwellâ:
Nuka moved into Ziraâs touch, powerful, controlling, kind, warm. An interesting combination but one none the less that Nuka felt around Zira. No matter what it was he would follow because how could anything she did, be wrong.
Even the little bit of praise had him smiling, could have him singing. Though he wasnât foolish enough to act like an idiot. What if he added a little surprise to the decor, a handful of black rose hidden, just as death hid. A small taunt, a game that Nuka was playing on his own.
âAfter all this time it is destiny, I hope dear Arthur knows this is his fate and it is inescapable.â
Arthur did not know this was his fate, but that was alright with Zira. He would fall into her clutches no matter what. His inability to not fall for the whole hero schtick would kill him in the end. It was rather sad, but worked in Ziraâs favour, so she didnât mind. It would make this too easy, but after a thousand years, Zira was alright with easy.Â
âYes, but I meant more--no one in this town is going to know how to dress for a theme of Fate and Destiny,â Zira pouted.Â
She hated this stupid town. They thought they knew how to dress. They thought they were special and interesting and different. When in actuality they were all the villains of her story and she wanted to crush them all like termites. This land would be better without them.Â
âI cannot stand to have this go down if people are not dressed appropriately.â
âOne can hope this is about climate and not weather. Thatâs what I keep saying. Itâs about a shift thatâs happening because thatâs how it should be. There has been an openness that has prevailed around these types of stories being told, absolutely. Weâve seen some higher ups in this industry speak really powerfully around how you do what makes sense, and that means you tell a variety of stories from a variety of perspectives and you tell them with authenticity.â
DANAI GURIRA
for the Los Angeles Times January 2019
Photography by Christopher L. Proctor
Though a deep sense of dread seeped down to his bones when the familiar (yet still revolting) smell of death filled the air, he kept his features in check. The wolf did try to overwhelm him with a sense of self-preservation in that they needed to leave, yet he remained still as Ms. Blackwell came forward, only moving when given permission by the slight tip of her head.Â
As he had expected, she did not waste time on pleasantries.Â
The use of his first name was a bit disarmingâ not many people called him that. He did not let many people call him that. It seemed she had penned her name on the list without him knowing but he was not about to correct her, as he would anyone else.Â
âIâve come in the hopes that I canâ make amends. I did not like where we left things last we spoke.â The disappointment and hostility had been far from what he had been wanting from that misadventure she had sent him on. âSo, we need not discuss what you can do for me but rather, what I can do for you.âÂ
Truly Zira did not think she had had the wolf so wrapped up in her clutches. It came as quite a stroke to her ego, if she were honest with herself. She was appreciative of him realizing that she was the power in this tow. After all, it was clear that was what he wanted. He wanted power. And power leeches off power. Being close to it would only benefit him, in the end.
Her pride was certainly boosting, but that did not mean much when she was so close to her go. She could not let pride get in her way. It could blind you just as much as anything else. There was no place for it if she wanted to bring the charter down.Â
She crossed one elegant leg over the other, but otherwise did not move, nor change her expression. Zira did not want him to know that he had surprised her. This was not a move that she had foreseen, but it was a welcome one.
âAnd why should I trust you with helping me, when the last time the job was not done to my satisfaction?â It was a fair question, but maybe she wanted to see him beg. Just a little more.
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