Date night means you have someone to help you hide the bodies . . .(Closed RP: Vladimir & Valentine)

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

((It should be noted that Valentine's inclusion is with mun-approval, a joint-tag seemed the smoothest start.))
The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen shifted slightly on his sofa, one arm wrapped around the shoulders of Lord Valentine Wolfe, and his feet propped up on the strangled corpse of a Dutch police officer which lay in front of the furniture. Over the last few months, the Baron and Lord Wolfe had been finding themselves spending an increasing amount of time with one another, and enjoying it all quite a bit. Although they'd failed to grow bored with each other's company, they had become somewhat bored with Hogwarts, even with the usually effective influence of Valentine's chemical concoctions- Hogwarts just didn't exist on a planetary scale. A recent missive received from the now-popcorned Paul Atreides or A-Ghola-of-Paul Atredies had also been bothering the Baron, and, all in all, a change, if only a brief one, sounded good. Thus, the Baron and Lord Wolfe had decided to go on a 'date', selecting De Wallen for their destination, having interpreted it as a destination which catered to any and all desires of the chemical or carnal nature.

And so, the pair of them had used the Floo network to connect to Amsterdam's equivalent of Diagon Alley, where they changed some wizarding money into the local currency, and ventured out unaware that their tastes were actually somewhat beyond the bounds of even the most 'liberal' of the local establishments. Neither of them made any concessions in their presentation, dressed in their usual manner- the Baron did reduce the effect of his suspensors, but still continued to levitate ever-so-slightly off the ground. Vladimir knew that the common masses tended to be an unobservant bunch, and thus, unlikely to notice anything that wasn't supposed to exist. And indeed, as they emerged arm-in-arm into the not-Wizarding world, the many strange looks they attracted were not directed at Vladimir's feet. It seemed as if the Wizarding world likely owed as much to this tendency as they did to their own obliviators when it came to keeping the rest of the world ignorant. The passer-bys entirely ignored their house-elves, who'd used a bit of her house-elf magic for the purpose. Traveling without slaves was unthinkable, and so, their house-elves had to suffice, with Mopsy occasionally working a bit of house-elf magic on the rare persons who she thought were staring a bit too much. On the whole, the pair didn't mind the stares they did attract, as both delighted in unsettling the dull sensibilities of others.

As Valentine had done a bit of traveling in the past, their outing began well enough. They were able to hail a cab, whose driver suffered them to order him around, presuming them to be obnoxious foreigners of some sort. He ignored Vladimir's occasional rants regarding the primitive insufficiency of wheeled vehicles just as he ignored the chemicals his passengers were obviously indulging in, delivering them to their demanded destination with very few words. To the best of their recollection, the relatively decent start to their trip lasted for some time, although their perception of this grew ever-more nebulous as the hours passed.

It was certain that several distinct events occurred, and, it seemed likely that at least one full day passed, if not a couple of them. The differences in lighting which accompanied various recollected scenes suggested a spread of time, and quite a few distinct locations. Many of the scenes with an impression of daylight seemed to be the 'coffee' shops- had they asked Mopsy, she would have confirmed that they'd gone to just about every one in the district while Valentine attempted to sample every chemical the town had to offer, as much of it bought under the counter as over, if not more. The Baron had no desire to discourage him in this, finding it a perfectly good way to spend their time, although he insisted on switching things up with a few stops of his own. Most of these were to various fast-food establishments he recognized from the Muggle commercials, in order to satiate the curiosity these had created. Despite insisting they were all horrible, common places which only the horrible, common masses would be able to tolerate, he had to admit that there was something to be said for some of the cuisine, cheap and common as it was. Thus, McDonalds had warranted multiple trips.

The corpse beneath their feet was tied to the nighttime recollections, however. They'd arrived back at Hogwarts perhaps a half-hour earlier, and, were now relaxing while they laughed over the disjointed little scenes which had lead to the corpse's creation- they were pretty sure there were several more back in Amsterdam. The officer who was serving as a temporary ottoman had inadvertently been brought along by a quick bit of side-along apparation on Mopsy's part, as the Baron had been in the process of strangling him. It seemed likely that he'd actually died in-route, and the Baron had already lamented how it was a shame that he'd finished him off already, given that he might have been a nice present for Jasper if not for the vampire preferring his meals alive.

Although the exact order of events remained nebulous, both Vladimir and Valentine were absolutely certain that they'd happened in one of the brothels. Their own interpretation of events varied quite a bit from that of the local law enforcement and media, who'd predictably describe it as a strange multiple homicide, and then sweep it under the rug. Given their own recollection of events, Vladimir and Valentine would feel it was an unfair simplification of the situation. For one, they'd paid for the young men they'd gotten a bit enthusiastic with, which in their opinion meant that it was their money lost, and, it was of no consequence to anyone else. It wasn't as if anyone had made it clear that there were odd local laws prohibiting the actual ownership of human flesh- of course, had anyone explained that the 'slaves' were merely for rent, and often working of their own volition, it wouldn't have been likely to have made any difference in what happened, laws being things which applied to lesser men.

In any case, what was certain was that at some point during their amusements, one of the pretty male whores was killed, quite possibly by accident or overdose. It had been a while since either the Baron or Lord Wolfe met with an opportunity to indulge certain psychopathic instincts, and, so it hadn't taken too long for them to finish off the rest of the batch they'd thought they 'purchased', which meant they'd needed a few more. Neither of them though that there was anything wrong with killing the first batch, and so they'd simply asked for exactly what they required- more whores, ideally as pretty as the dead ones, and, to have the 'used up' ones removed from the room they'd rented. A room which was now a spectacular mess, providing a very colorful (but mostly red) backdrop for what they got instead. Rather than receiving more whores, the pair soon found themselves confronted by several horrified officers of the law, who seemed intent on arresting them for the murder of what they'd understood to be their own property. The inevitable scuffle ensued, for which the local law enforcement was not at all prepared. The sort of crazy they were used to deal with tended to obey the laws of gravity, for one, and never involved creepy midgets with superpowers. Mopsy had spent the whole trip making herself as scarce as possible, but as soon as the confrontation escalated into actual violence, the house-elf made herself useful. This was why it was certain that the local authorities would sweep the incident under the rug- it wasn't exactly easy to explain what happened on a police report. In a matter of seconds, Mopsy's had used her house-elf magic to toss the majority of the officers across the room, and grabbed onto both her master and his companion for a quick side-along apparation. The officer that Vladimir had been strangling at the time ended up coming along, and had either died during magical transport, or a few seconds afterward. And now, the Baron and Lord Wolfe were still feeling a bit giddily excited from what they considered a spot of well-needed 'fun', already reflecting over their drug-colored memories of the event. Vladimir had thought to have the corpse removed a couple of times, but there was no rush- it wasn't as if it was going anywhere, and, he'd given Mopsy a few hours to relax after her timely bit of magic. He'd bother with calling a 'lesser' house-elf in later.

Comments

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

((Aaaand... I suck XD Here's to sucking less and quicker responses from here on out!))

Beside the Baron, Valentine attempted to smooth out his clothing. It was an entirely futile gesture, since his idea of fun with their hired help for the evening had entailed quite a lot of blood and screaming. His idea of fun with the called law enforcement had followed along those lines as well--for all his affected delicacy, Valentine had known his way around a blade back home and had not fallen much out of practice here. He still fairly vibrated with the effects of one of his cached battle drugs, still tucked away in his body and unneeded in all his time here, the adrenaline and other stimulants and aids still flowing in near-lethal doses through him.

The blood was mostly hidden on his black clothing, but matted in his hair and stood out starkly against his dyed-white skin. He licked absently at the spatters of it that had landed near his mouth, smeared some on his cheek as he brushed a messy tumble of black hair out of his face. "Well," he said cheerfully, "I'd say that went extremely well, wouldn't you? Absolutely the best date I've had in ages."

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

The Baron was aware that Valentine's attempts to smooth out his clothing were rather futile, but was happy to try and help him nonetheless, not that he required an excuse to keep his hands on Valentine. His idea of 'smoothing out' the fabric swiftly degenerated into lazy groping- Valentine was in such a very lovely state. The Baron had greatly enjoyed the opportunity to watch Valentine at work with sharp, pointy objects- in all, he'd enjoyed everything about their date, given that the insufficiencies of a primitive world were diminished alongside such an excellent and high-quality companion. Shared depravity was indeed the best sort.

"It could not have gone more perfectly- ah, to watch such an artful hand with evisceration is a rare pleasure indeed, and red suits you so well." He gave Valentine a lascivious grin, and leaned over to lick his blood-smeared cheek. For his part, he was nearly as blood-splattered as Valentine- it showed up rather more vividly on his red robes than Valentine's black ones, but he didn't much care. The excitement of the bloody events still lingered, and, he had no desire to hasten its departure by clearing away the signs of it. "I always thought that I appreciated a proper bit of butchery, but, it does have an especially delectable flavor after so many months without any. We really must remember to get out more often, my dear Lord Wolfe." Returning 'home' was no reason to sober up, and although neither of them were in danger of this anytime soon, he filled a couple of glasses from a bottle of wine Mopsy had left before he'd dismissed her, adding to them both a fair quantity of the spice before pressing one into Valentine's hand.

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

The way to Valentine's nonexistent metaphorical heart was easy in some ways--be interesting, and feed him a steady diet of violence, perversion, drugs, and flattery. The first part was the hardest. The rest were always fun, but got boring quickly without the first.

But the Baron was both interesting and a good flatterer (as well as being a constant and valued source for violence, perversion, and drugs) and Valentine leaned in to the Baron, catlike, his smile dreamy. "It's my favorite accent." He didn't specify whether he meant the color red in general or blood in specific. "I just wish..." He sighed theatrically. (Valentine did all of his sighing theatrically.) He took his spiced wine, swirled it, and took a delightful sip, savoring it. "Ah, still delightful every time. Yes, I just wish that we had more opportunity for diversions of this sort." He gave a lazy stretch. "It's just so fun."

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

Like Valentine, the Baron appreciated violence, perversion, drugs, and flattery, but also found being interesting to be the most important, and also the rarest of qualities to be found. Someone who remained interesting in all circumstances, and actually grew more interesting as time wore on, even in bed- that was a singularity. His flattery of Valentine was flattery, but, it was always entirely honest.

As Vladimir admired Valentine's perfectly stained smile, he wished as he frequently did that he could somehow bring him the drug sappho to amuse him, and traced a rather non-abstract pattern on Valentine's thigh- the form of the motion meant nothing at all, but, there was a complex sort of numerical repetition to the way he moved his fingers, slowly evolving into a slightly different one as he took a swallow of his spiced wine. "A sentiment I echo, my dear Valentine. Although Hogwarts is hardly without its charms," here he squeezed Valentine's thigh with a distinct affection, "It is sorely lacking in certain types of fun- violence without mortality is like an unfinished song. We really must make more opportunities for it in the future." He shifted his feet atop the corpse again, casting it a somewhat bemused glance as he suggested. "Perhaps we should keep him around? He might make some good souvenirs. I've been wanting a cheops set here, and a bone one would serve well. And, I expect he'd make a nice pair of boots. Or gloves, or bookbindings, there's so many possible ways to keep him around as a memento."

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

The spice in the wine, combined with Valentine's usual cocktail of chemical distractions and the battle drugs whose effects were now starting do dissipate, meant that he saw the trail (as well as smelled it and to some degree tasted it, a melon-y aftertaste) traced and spent some time studying the nonsense rune and wondering at its meaning.

"We really should," he agreed, tearing himself away from the glowing melony tracing on his thigh, leaning comfortably against the Baron. "Nothing but work, work, work here. I could have stayed on Golgotha for all this." He conveniently overlooked that he had not held office hours or a class in some time, and had been using his salary and house elf slave labor to purchase gifts for the Baron and treats for himself. "In the meantime, it's been so long since I've had a project! Arts and crafts, hm?" He clapped his hands in delight. "Flaying is only slightly less fun when they're not awake to feel it, but it will be nice to practice getting it all off in one piece."

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

Although the Baron was lacking in the battle drugs, he was nevertheless saturated with a blend of Valentine's concoctions along with the Spice. As he took another drink of his wine, a certain brightness began to emanate from certain parts of his surroundings, while the rest faded into the background, almost vanishing into a haze of grey. The spiced wine, the sofa, the corpse at their feet- these all seemed touch with a faint effulgence which caused them to stand out from the background. But Valentine was simply radiant. The Baron sank back comfortably into the sofa as Valentine leaned against him, continuing to trace the languid patterns over his thigh.

"Perhaps I should tap the Maury Povich Fund for a 'research trip' to Thailand," the Baron mused. From all he'd heard, the country seemed to offer diversions similar to those in Amsterdam, and it would be easy enough to bullshit up a reason why both his department and Valentine's required the 'research'. "It'll be a necessity, come winter, when we're stuck in here with nothing but work and more work!" Like Valentine, the Baron liked to insist that he was somehow deluged with 'work', despite not having held a class in ages, being far too distracted by other, more important and interesting matters- namely Valentine, and finding ways to bring a smile to those lovely red-stained lips. His clap of delight brought a smile to Baron, pleased to see that he liked the idea of making themselves a few mementos. "It would be a bit more fun if he was still around to react to the experience. But, the lack of squirming should insure the cuts are perfect- it's really too bad that Jasper would be likely to find meat without a heartbeat to be a bit old." He eyed the corpse, thinking that he did look a rather healthy specimen. "Of course. . . we could always send it off to the kitchen ourselves. Wastefulness is always a such a shame."

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

"I'm sure one or the other of us could grab something from the street, bring it home, and call it the subject of a lesson," Valentine said, waving negligently. "Half the students here aren't even human, much less from this time, place, or planet, and I'm sure they won't know."

He prodded the corpse with his toe, once, a thoughtful look on his face. "Perhaps. How much of the bone do you think you'd like to keep around as decoration, by percent? We should probably have that figured out before--oh, I hate mixing business with pleasure." He gave the body a good shove, kicking it a small distance away. "Let's figure that part out later. Fun parts now, hmm?"

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

"Wouldn't know, wouldn't care, or wouldn't even bother to attend, which makes our lives much easier," Vladimir agreed- it wasn't as if the student body of Hogwarts was a very demanding one. "It's not worth our effort to try and actually teach most of the students here anything, the best we can hope for is amusement." Their own, of course, as that of the students was a secondary matter. "I suppose that I should hold a class soon, for the sake of appearances. Or at least some official 'office hours', even if some of the students are amazingly dull. Now and again there's a fun one who's delightfully lacking in inhibitions- and perhaps I could talk you into making some of your remarkable muffins. Or even better, into providing your remarkable company- we could call it joint office-hours, and, relieve each other of our boredom while looking as if we've both done our job."

The Baron eyed the corpse a moment, running a few rough estimations in his mind, but then just joined Valentine in kicking away the corpse, agreeing that matters were becoming a bit complicated. It was still a time for pleasure, and, dealing with small, technical details was not terribly entertaining. "Yes, no need to bother with such complicated little matters right now. It's not like any of us are going anywhere!" Vladimir aimed a quick preservation spell at the corpse, putting that matter to rest and yes the mun intended the awful pun. He drained the rest of his wine and turned back to Valentine, setting the glass aside as he admired the blackness of Valentine's mess of hair against the red velvet of his robe. Everything went better with Valentine. "I would not want to go anywhere, or to be anywhere else. Unless perhaps we were both on Kaitain, enjoying the Imperial throne." As even that would have been better shared with Valentine.

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

"Joint office hours. Now there's a thought." He smiled fondly at the Baron's mention of the muffins. "Oh, you remembered! Yes, I should. It's so fun to watch amateurs try and handle themselves, especially when they have no idea what's going on, and there's so many new students who don't know not to try any refreshments that I offer." He giggled, covering his mouth with one long, thin hand.

The corpse preserved, Valentine leaned forward, swirling his wine around in its glass, hypnotized by the wonderful redness of it. He felt like he could almost taste it by staring at it--but he couldn't so he took another sip, which was better. "I nearly had the throne on Golgotha once," he said, suddenly and unwontedly sobered. "I believe I may have mentioned it before in passing. The idiots who unseated the Iron Bitch wanted to install a constitutional monarchy." He snorted in derision. "I would have been the perfect Emperor. I had vision, breeding, the esper drug, and nanotech that made me invincible and quite probably immortal. Naturally, the short-sighted plebeians wouldn't stand for it, and tried to stop me. They failed, and I would have won. I was so close... and then... I don't know what happened. A representative from Shub arrived. He said that their war with humanity was over, and withdrew their support." He shuddered a little with the memory. "I died bleeding on the ground at at the moment of my victory, alone and unmourned." He finished his wine then, not even tasting it.

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

"How could I forget? I shall have to persuade you to make some of those delightful opiated ones again. I'm very pleased that I did stop to sample them, as they were by far the best muffins I've ever had." The Baron smiled at the charming giggle, the expression lingering as he toyed with Valentine's black curls, musing, "We could spice the atmosphere with a touch of semuta. The students wouldn't be likely to notice until their senses were already a bit addled, so even the experienced ones may prove more suggestible."

The Baron's eyes followed Valentine's glass to his perfectly stained lips, which he admired as they formed the pretty (and at the moment, somehow red in itself) word 'Golgotha'. Valentine had indeed mentioned how he'd nearly had the throne before, but, Vladimir had not pried into the matter. He'd been interested, but, the topic was also linked to the mentions of his death, and, insisting that Valentine reveal what was in essence an incredibly personal and potentially traumatizing matter seemed incredibly rude. But now, he was speaking of it of his own inclination, and, the Baron listened intently to every word, his smile swiftly falling as Valentine described what had to be the most tragic thing he'd ever heard. Valentine was absolutely correct- his vision and breeding redoubtable, the first he'd met he could consider on par with his own. And so many other qualities, besides- Valentine would have been a perfect (and perfectly beautiful) emperor, and should have been. The thought of Valentine suffering a lonely, unmourned death at the very moment when he should have been enjoying the rights of his natural superiority was appalling- it was difficult if not impossible to conjecture a sadder tale, and perhaps for the first time ever, the Baron experienced a deep and genuine empathy for the pain of another human being. He wasn't certain exactly what the unusual emotion was, aside from it being related to the one he'd identified as love, but he wasn't concerned about identifying it either, he was merely concerned with Valentine.

Wrapping his arm about Valentine's waist he pulled him close- his delicate, elegant form was always such a marvel, but, at the moment he was more interested in soothing his pretty mind. "Such an injustice, my dear, lovely Valentine- that any would take away the victory that you rightfully earned is a travesty against all that is proper! The blind mice that make up the mass of humanity cannot see that strength, genius, and inspiration should rule their little lives. It's not as if they have any meaning without us, we're the ones in the history books." He laid his hand atop Valentine's, stroking it consolingly, wishing that he had some proper form of consolation to offer, like the previously-mentioned Imperial throne. "If only we could return to my Imperium, I'd give you that throne- with your genius, there'd be no one able to stop my house from taking it, and, once we did, no one could tell me who gets to share it."

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

That brought a faint smile back to Valentine's face. "I have to admit, I'm quite pleased with the outcome of that decision as well. It will take the absolute minimum amount of convincing to get me to make that particular recipe again." He thought the Baron's suggestion over, nodding. "Oh, that would be fun. And even if they can't appreciate it, we certainly could."

It was interesting being comforted and cossetted, and completely unfamiliar. His own mother had been distant as befitted an aristocrat and had died shortly after his youngest sibling's birth, his father had been distant self-indulgent, his siblings had been more interested in each other than in him, and the parade of people who had shared his bed through the years had been more along the lines of objects to be used and disposed of than anything approaching a real person that one felt things for. Normally Valentine sneered at the clinging and whimpering and monkey-like grasping that other people seemed to love doing, but this was different. There were no tears, no unsightly snot or undignified choking, on either of their parts. It was another odd thing that he might be able to get used to, if it was going to be like this.

He turned his hand palm-up and grasped the Baron's firmly. "If we could, there would be nobody who could stop us." Us--another odd concept. He had never shared anything before, except maliciously. "As it is, we'll merely have to settle for ruling here. And amusing ourselves any way we can, of course. Always that."

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

((And here comes the TL;DR!))

The Baron was pleased that his notions involving muffins and semuta found Valentine's approval- not that he'd doubted they would, given Valentine's keen sense of what was amusing. Since their initial meeting, the Baron had found that his original assessment of Valentine's remarkably developed notions of good taste had been, if anything, slightly short of the mark. Perfectly developed was more accurate, as he'd been learning the last several months. The return of even a slight smile to Valentine's painted lips was such a lovely sight- unusually so, as it was still a somewhat disconcerting sensation that it mattered so much.

Vladimir was swiftly realizing that despite the abnormality of it all, he really would have given anything within his power to Valentine if only it would relieve some amount of his distress. Although the notion of sharing a throne seemed almost ridiculous when, like Valentine, he'd never shared anything before, he realized that his words would have even passed the scrutiny of a Bene Gesserit Truthsayer, containing nothing less than absolute truth insofar as he believed it. A member of the Spacing Guild or CHOAM might have disagreed with their absolute veracity in order to point out that they did have a strong (in fact, final) say in the operation of the Imperium, but, this small catch hardly mattered. Not when CHOAM's decisions were made based on profits and the Guild's based on Spice, and not when he was at a wizarding school with not even a trace of CHOAM or the Guild.

There was no throne either, but this was no matter. The simple lack of it wasn't a good reason to presume it didn't exist. It could exist, especially if they wanted it to. These things usually amounted to a matter of effort, connections, and decent financing, the latter of which tended to be the most important. The first two could be bought. A trace of his own smile returned as Valentine's hand tightened on his, and as his words stirred chemically-brightened pictures ripe with potential in Vladimir's head. Us was indeed a curious way to think, but, there was so much possibility there. "If only we could," he replied, "But ruling here is hardly without its appeal, not with you. Perhaps it may be a small world, with amusements on a smaller scale, but quality is important. And with our minds together, our amusements shall never be lacking in this vital trait."

There was no immediate throne to offer, perhaps, but, the Baron suddenly realized that there was an alternative offering. There was one form of alliance which, by default, would share any future thrones he did obtain with Valentine, which seemed to make it nearly as good. The lack of any potential heirs was of no issue- they'd share Jasper of course, who fit perfectly into this necessary role in Vladimir's little Hogwarts 'family'. . .in essence, the Baron found himself in serious contemplation of marriage for the first time in his life. And it is of course a good idea, he thought. Because it is mine. The concept remained an unvoiced potential for but a few seconds longer, as he found himself moving straight past contemplation, perhaps encouraged by the cocktail of chemicals and alcohol in his system, combined with the exhilaration of that night's earlier events. His hand tightened further on Valentine's, and his words were fired with firm intent as he said, "In all my years I have never conjectured such an ideal alliance, not even in my most spice-laden dreams. But truly, together, no one could ever stop us, nor shall they. And all should know this! I believe that I would like nothing better than for us to formally join our strength as we harvest all the pleasures this little world has to offer. Marry me, Lord Wolfe! Let us break the usual dull taboos of the institution and declare ourselves the Lords of Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and the Forbidden Forest, and from there we can move on to the rest of the world!"

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

(The size of this world, on absolute geological scale, was familiar. Very familiar. Valentine had noted once or twice, in passing, that the night and day cycles, the seasonal cycles, had made him feel quite at home. But then something else had caught his attention and the moment had gone, and with it any observation that he had been on the point of making. There were many, many worlds, after all. If this one ran on Golgothan standard time, what of it? It bowed to his whims, like everything else should by rights.)

For a moment, Valentine was completely still while the Baron's proposal sunk in. His last attempt at a marriage had not been successful, to say the least. It had been a political affair, arranged by his late and unlamented father without any input on Valentine's part. Besides which, the bride had been rather... reticent (http://degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com/1284.html#cutid2), and had spoiled the day by punching him in the face and escaping to a convent.

This, now... this was different. He respected the Baron, loved him inasmuch as he was capable of loving anyone that wasn't himself, and was actually being consulted. Proposed to, even. From a certain point of view, it was romantic. From his, it was flattering. It was, of course, an incredibly good idea. Even if marriage as a political entity was less a matter of course here, it seemed to be a matter of course where the Baron came from as well, and for the Baron to suggest it to someone who could have in other circumstances been a rival spoke volumes.

And of course, there was the matter of partnership in other manners, which were every bit as flattering as the normal political ones. Valentine's hands fluttered up to his mouth.

"Why, of course! Baron--Vladimir--it would be my honor and delight to marry you. We'll be unstoppable. And the ceremony--!" He giggled, suddenly thrilled. "I can't imagine a more splendid event, between the two of us."

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

((I must apologize for completely dropping the ball on tags the last few days!))

It was only after delivering his proposal that Vladimir realized precisely what he'd done. Sure, he'd been perfectly aware of it, but, there was a difference between an awareness of something and an awareness of all the deeper implications of something. The Baron had done an excellent job of avoiding any long-term, binding commitments through the years, but now, he found himself on the edge of one. And yet, he remained perfectly affirmed in his course of action, and his only misgiving was the unspoken worry that Valentine might reject the proposal- evidently, actual love was an extremely strange thing, given that the Baron was not planning to strangle Valentine immediately if he did in fact refuse. As terrible as it would have been to suffer the humiliation of rejection, a world no longer containing Valentine was an even less desirable alternative.

During Valentine's perfectly still moment of silence the Baron kept his own as well- he was too busy realizing the little implications of his question, namely, that 'no' was a possibility. Luckily, he didn't have to witness his own sentiments trumping his sensibility, however, as the silence was short-lived, and, the answer the one he wanted to hear. It also reminded him of the other implications of marriage- namely, the ceremony. Valentine's exuberance regarding this was contagious. "Absolutely unstoppable, my dear Valentine! And the ceremony shall be the most magnificent event that Hogwarts has ever seen! It must be- we deserve it!"

As he was envisioning the future festivities, the Baron recalled that jewelry was generally involved in engagements on this particular planet. The Baron hadn't pre-meditated his proposal, and thus, hadn't considered this previously, but in keeping with the spirit of things, felt it should be offered. So, he tugged off one of his many rings, a small one worn on a pinkie, which seemed slightly more likely than the others to fit one of Valentine's skeletally thin digits. The ring was set with a red gem from Hagal, and, emblazoned with a small Harkonnen griffon. "A token," he explained as he offered it. "It is a tradition from this world, apparently. I believe the traditions suggest diamonds, but, here a red sapphire from Hagal is much rarer."

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

((I LIIIIVE.))

Valentine wiggled his fingers, watching the red gleam. It went rather well with the general color scheme: his dyed white skin, jet black everything else, red accents (still-drying blood included), and the rich red to be found in the Baron's quarters. "It's perfect," he gushed. "Diamonds look terrible on me, anyway."

A reciprocal gift should be given, he decided. For a terrible moment, he blank wall; he was something of a minimalist when it came to his outer world, and not given to wearing jewelry. But he did have one affectation, and he scrambled to find it in a pocket with his other hand.

He held out a small, ornate silver pillbox to the Baron, still half-full of little treats that they had been sampling from during their vacation. "Here " he said. "While we're breaking traditions."

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

The Baron had to agree- the ring he'd been used to seeing on his own hand for years was indeed perfect on Valentine's, even if it might need a certain amount of fitting. Such trivial details could easily be dealt with later, and, it was hardly a time for practicalities. He slipped his palm beneath Valentine's pale fingers, and traced over stone and skin with his other hand, admiring the familiar red stone against his paper-white skin, and briefly entertaining a picture of it against his sheets, a sight he could never tire of. A glistening of silver pulled his gaze away, as Valentine drew forth the pillbox.

Vladimir hadn't really expected a reciprocal token, well aware that Valentine tended to approach the outer world in a minimalistic fashion. He couldn't recall ever having seen him wear much of anything in the way of jewelry, aside from the ring he'd just given him. Not that Valentine required any ornamentation, he was perfect as is, but, Vladimir really did like seeing it there. His hand lingered on Valentine's as he accepted the pillbox.

"So very apt, my dear Valentine," he smiled. "Lovely, deceptively complex, and habit-forming." It seemed nothing could be more appropriate than the lovely silver box, containing inside it many little worlds of wonder, so very much like Valentine himself. An apt token, and a smart one, too- it would eventually empty, after all, probably sooner than later, and, would need to be replenished. Habits were so good for ensuring lasting bonds, a tactic he'd often made use of himself. It was impossible to resist the impulse to draw Valentine in for a kiss- perhaps it was a rather common and predictable gesture in the circumstances, but, in the Baron's opinion, anything was elevated to entirely acceptable when it was Valentine and himself involved. After all, they were anything but common.

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

The ring would have to be resized to fit him, but that would wait. For now, there was a certain amount of personal celebration to be had, and he thoroughly enjoyed the kiss.

And there was celebration to look forward to in the future, as well. Valentine leaped up, avoiding the corpse on the floor. "And now there's a wedding to plan! Should it be a big ceremony, do you think? I'd like a large wedding, personally, but as long as it makes a statement--" that statement being, of course, We are so much better than you-- "I hardly suppose it would matter. Though there would be so much more opportunities for fun with a large wedding."

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

There were indeed personal celebrations- the Baron was already entertaining thoughts of a nice bit of celebration in the bedroom. But, planning the upcoming public celebration was indeed important, and he couldn't blame Valentine for leaping up- it was the sort of occasion that called for those little dramatic gestures. The public celebration needed to be a huge dramatic gesture, since an opportunity for a party could not be wasted, especially to mark such a paramount occasion.

He engaged his suspensors and swept up beside Valentine, entirely in agreement with his enthusiasm. "It must be a big wedding! Subtlety can make a statement in the right circumstance, but not weddings. And a big wedding will have so many more opportunities for fun. No lavish whim is too great an expense! It needs to be unforgettable, for everyone involved! Especially for ourselves." After all, it was important that people remember the statement that we are so much better than you. Besides, Vladimir had never been married before, and, like hell if he was going to wait eighty years to do so and then not make it into a major event.

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

There would naturally be celebration in the bedroom. And possibly in the hallway between here and the bedroom, and perhaps back on the couch, if Valentine had his way. But a little planning between then and now would certainly not hurt either of them, and there were visions of a large, opulent party now dancing in Valentine's head alongside the usual other visions.

"Wonderful!" He clapped, spinning excitedly. "I'm sure that it will be something completely unforgettable." Between the two of them and their diverse and interesting tastes, how could it not be? Doubtless, whatever ceremony and reception planned would be a spectacle worthy of remembrance for years to come. "The wedding planning will be such fun, too! Should we hire someone, do you think, or do it ourselves? Oh, we can discuss that later. For now, perhaps we should celebrate a little more intimately."

[i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com]

((My apologies for being so slow lately!))

Vladimir would be more than willing to grant Valentine his way back on the couch, in the hall, and anywhere else they happened to be- it seemed likely that just about every part of his. . . no, their rooms would be the scene for celebration in the near future. If it were a lesser occasion, he might have been inclined to give some underlings a basic overview of his ideas and let them carry out the details, but an occasion of this importance demanded nothing less than personal attention, and good planning couldn't be rushed. They could indeed deal with the details later. "We could delegate a few tasks, but we should do the planning ourselves- it needs our creative oversight to be done right, and, besides, we can't let someone else have all the fun." Obviously, the house-elves could take care of the actual work portions of planning, but planning a party was just too fun to pass up. "Details later," he agreed. There were so many little complexities sure to be involved, and the no-kill spell would complicate some of the more obvious party amusements, like a few hundred gladiators to face of in to-the-death matches in their honor during the course of the day. They'd have to come up with some alternatives, and, this couldn't be rushed. "For now, pleasure and inspiration," the Baron smiled, moving to draw Valentine into a lascivious embrace.