I. The Lady and the Vamp
Osiri & Salvius
Osiri & Salvius
Prompt :: Your mouse is BUILDING A HOUSE in A NIGHTCLUB when HE OR SHE ENCOUNTERS A VAMPIRE. What wouldst thou deau?
Osiri looked scornfully at the planks and supplies that had been left out for her. Planks of wood, a tin of tins, a box of nails, and an array of tools populated the floor of the Big Cheese, waiting for someone to pick them up and get building. She waited for a few moments, but given that this was early evening and the disco was completely empty save for herself, it didn't seem likely.
Who did they think they were? She fumed. The Big Cheese needed a stage for DJs to hang out and for events to occur on. She'd rented some supplies from a construction group, hoping to save on costs by intimidating them into working for her rather than paying them. No dice. They'd just plopped their stuff down and left, leaving her in a bit of a predicament. She had to book an opening act for next week, but without a stage for them to perform on, what kind of act could they do?
This whole making-her-own-fortune thing was going to take some getting used to.
She pouted and tried to heft a plank of wood to no effect. Great. she leaned it against the wall, forming a sort of dilapidated teepee. Well, this was going swimmingly.
"Lift from your knees," someone behind her said. Osiri swung around, eager to know who dared make fun of her. A pale mouse was leaning against one of the tables, a smug smile on his face. Osiri hated mice with smug smiles.
"And just who do you think you are?" She said, voice icy. "We're not open for a few more hours, so take yourself out."
The pale mouse frowned, but still managed to look like he wasn't taking her seriously, which infuriated her to no end. "But there's a big sign out in front that says 'All welcome.'"
"Remind me to take that down." Osiri muttered, tail twitching as she tried to restrain her anger. Someone had told her that it paid to be polite when running a business, but right about now she was getting ready to trade in her politeness for a good dose of practicality. She hadn't invited someone down to the Gauntlet in a while...
"What kind of cheese do you like?" She asked off-handedly, wanting to know if she had any in her stores. The intruder shrugged noncommittally.
"Can't say," he replied, and watched as she once more tried to place the planks. He raised a mouse-y brow curiously. "What is it that you're trying to do? Create a dwelling?"
Osiri glowered at him. "My builders ran off." When her threats to get them to do the work without pay had failed. "So I'm stuck with trying to build this stage on short-notice." Laugh all you want, she thought. She'd have her payback, sure as--
"Is that it?" The pale mouse asked, suddenly by her side. Osiri, being a Lannister, always held her composure and never jumped. But she may have twitched slightly. Slightly. "You give me a room in this place until tomorrow night and I'll have it done before you open for business."
Osiri thought he was joking, but as much as she hated jokers, she liked to play their games to her own advantage. "Sure. On one condition. If you fail to have the entire stage built, I get to take you somewhere else tonight." (Read: "back to my mansion so I can make you run through a death-trap for your insolence.")
"Done." said her companion with a wink. "I'm no gambler, but I do like a bet from time to time. Though, I'm afraid you'll lose."
Osiri snorted, but not really, because she was a high-class mouse and high-class mice never snorted. This was something that sounded remarkably like a snort, but was merely an audible expression of her disbelief.
Soon, though, she was less sure of herself. How fast had that frame gotten built? And when did he nail those planks down? It was an hour before opening still, but her stage was, well, looking like a stage. Osiri stepped back as her mysterious visitor nailed the last plank securely down.
"There you go," he said, smiling. "It's no masterpiece, but it's stable. Once you have rugs or linoleum, you can have it ready in a snap."
Osiri backed away. "What are you?" She said, trying to get more of the outrage and fear-instilling look in her face instead of the contorted mask of fear expression. It was a tough battle.
The pale mouse blinked, but then his eyes narrowed and he smiled darkly. "Tsk, tsk. That's not polite. My name is Salvius, though you can call me Sal or Salve. Just never Sally." He said, eyes darkening.
"What's the rest of it?" Osiri demanded. "Your name."
Salvius grinned. "You're quick. I used to be called Gaius Salvius Liberalis, back when that sort of thing was in style. Times have changed." He said with a shrug.
Something prickled up Osiri's spine. She turned toward the stage, looking for a spare piece of wood, anything..."You still haven't answered my question." She said, buying time as she inched toward a promising-looking splinter.
"About what I am?" Salvius inquired. "You sounded like you already knew a vampire had walked into your establishment."
And with that, Osiri grabbed the splinter of wood, aiming to drive it into the pale grey mouse's heart when she found that he had vanished. She turned around in all directions, and nothing.
A voice echoed out of nowhere. "I'll be generous. You give me a place to stay for as long as I need it, and I won't drink your blood. Keep in mind, it's a huge concession to me, since I just love the extra zing that royalty adds. What do you say?"
What could she say?
And so, through a strange series of proceedings, Osiri got both her first tenant (well, sort of) and the stage built in the same night. Business ownership had never seemed this exciting when she was taking her mail-order classes. It certainly hadn't mentioned vampires.
Who did they think they were? She fumed. The Big Cheese needed a stage for DJs to hang out and for events to occur on. She'd rented some supplies from a construction group, hoping to save on costs by intimidating them into working for her rather than paying them. No dice. They'd just plopped their stuff down and left, leaving her in a bit of a predicament. She had to book an opening act for next week, but without a stage for them to perform on, what kind of act could they do?
This whole making-her-own-fortune thing was going to take some getting used to.
She pouted and tried to heft a plank of wood to no effect. Great. she leaned it against the wall, forming a sort of dilapidated teepee. Well, this was going swimmingly.
"Lift from your knees," someone behind her said. Osiri swung around, eager to know who dared make fun of her. A pale mouse was leaning against one of the tables, a smug smile on his face. Osiri hated mice with smug smiles.
"And just who do you think you are?" She said, voice icy. "We're not open for a few more hours, so take yourself out."
The pale mouse frowned, but still managed to look like he wasn't taking her seriously, which infuriated her to no end. "But there's a big sign out in front that says 'All welcome.'"
"Remind me to take that down." Osiri muttered, tail twitching as she tried to restrain her anger. Someone had told her that it paid to be polite when running a business, but right about now she was getting ready to trade in her politeness for a good dose of practicality. She hadn't invited someone down to the Gauntlet in a while...
"What kind of cheese do you like?" She asked off-handedly, wanting to know if she had any in her stores. The intruder shrugged noncommittally.
"Can't say," he replied, and watched as she once more tried to place the planks. He raised a mouse-y brow curiously. "What is it that you're trying to do? Create a dwelling?"
Osiri glowered at him. "My builders ran off." When her threats to get them to do the work without pay had failed. "So I'm stuck with trying to build this stage on short-notice." Laugh all you want, she thought. She'd have her payback, sure as--
"Is that it?" The pale mouse asked, suddenly by her side. Osiri, being a Lannister, always held her composure and never jumped. But she may have twitched slightly. Slightly. "You give me a room in this place until tomorrow night and I'll have it done before you open for business."
Osiri thought he was joking, but as much as she hated jokers, she liked to play their games to her own advantage. "Sure. On one condition. If you fail to have the entire stage built, I get to take you somewhere else tonight." (Read: "back to my mansion so I can make you run through a death-trap for your insolence.")
"Done." said her companion with a wink. "I'm no gambler, but I do like a bet from time to time. Though, I'm afraid you'll lose."
Osiri snorted, but not really, because she was a high-class mouse and high-class mice never snorted. This was something that sounded remarkably like a snort, but was merely an audible expression of her disbelief.
Soon, though, she was less sure of herself. How fast had that frame gotten built? And when did he nail those planks down? It was an hour before opening still, but her stage was, well, looking like a stage. Osiri stepped back as her mysterious visitor nailed the last plank securely down.
"There you go," he said, smiling. "It's no masterpiece, but it's stable. Once you have rugs or linoleum, you can have it ready in a snap."
Osiri backed away. "What are you?" She said, trying to get more of the outrage and fear-instilling look in her face instead of the contorted mask of fear expression. It was a tough battle.
The pale mouse blinked, but then his eyes narrowed and he smiled darkly. "Tsk, tsk. That's not polite. My name is Salvius, though you can call me Sal or Salve. Just never Sally." He said, eyes darkening.
"What's the rest of it?" Osiri demanded. "Your name."
Salvius grinned. "You're quick. I used to be called Gaius Salvius Liberalis, back when that sort of thing was in style. Times have changed." He said with a shrug.
Something prickled up Osiri's spine. She turned toward the stage, looking for a spare piece of wood, anything..."You still haven't answered my question." She said, buying time as she inched toward a promising-looking splinter.
"About what I am?" Salvius inquired. "You sounded like you already knew a vampire had walked into your establishment."
And with that, Osiri grabbed the splinter of wood, aiming to drive it into the pale grey mouse's heart when she found that he had vanished. She turned around in all directions, and nothing.
A voice echoed out of nowhere. "I'll be generous. You give me a place to stay for as long as I need it, and I won't drink your blood. Keep in mind, it's a huge concession to me, since I just love the extra zing that royalty adds. What do you say?"
What could she say?
And so, through a strange series of proceedings, Osiri got both her first tenant (well, sort of) and the stage built in the same night. Business ownership had never seemed this exciting when she was taking her mail-order classes. It certainly hadn't mentioned vampires.
