Chapter 106: Dancing with the Stars
Chapter 106: Dancing with the Stars
“Five minutes?” Ellanore asked as they walked away. “Did a sliver of pity pierce your heart, or did Paradox notice the little spell you’d woven on him?”
“Neither. The bastard, in a magical sense, is like a bag of lead sand, it was about the same amount of effort to keep his mind suppressed as it would be to keep the entire ball under for the same length of time.”
Ellanore’s brows rose, and their siblings gave each other meaningful glances.
“It’s clear that something has gradually elevated Paradox’s body, mind and spirit to demigod levels. If someone like that gained access to magic…It seems like the crafty old bitch has laid the foundation for a thousand-year rule while we were too busy laughing at the ‘cripple’.”
Rodney raised his hand. “Is…is having Paradox become king bad?” his younger brother asked, voice trembling.
“Well, no,” George said with a shrug. “We’re sure to gain by association should Paradox inherit the throne.”
“But we would gain a lot more if the frepon family became the new royalty.” Ellanore said. “Which was the plan until Paradox was proven not to be Dull. So in a sense, yes, we are losing quite a bit.”
“So what do we do?” Francine asked.
“Well, Father isn’t present, so we can’t take any drastic action without his approval. In the meantime, we do damage control. Ellanore, Francine, and Mary, you will be nice to Paradox for the rest of the ball. Keep him busy with conversation and dance so he can’t stop and take stock of his situation.”
“Thomas, Reginald and I will sound out public opinion, meet and greet, and essentially represent our family better than Paradox represents himself.”
“What do I do?” Rodney asked.
“You…” George thumbed his chin as he thought. “You find those two young ladies and dance with them before he can. You’re far too young for Paradox to act rashly in response to the slight.”
“By myself?” Rodney asked, glancing at Mary, who he typically hid behind in any social interaction.
“Didn’t you want a mission?” George asked. “I could always take you home.”
“No, I can do it, I mean, yes sir!” Rodney said, giving George a snappy salute before he took a deep breath and marched away from his family’s protective bubble, disappearing into the throng of people.
He hadn’t assigned the youngest anything vital, just a harmless bit of mud-slinging to get on Paradox’s nerves. Then again, putting the enemy off-balance was a key tenet of warfare. So maybe it was vital. Who knew?
George wiped off his cheek again.
“And now, the man of the hour, Paradox Zauberer would like to give a prepared statement.”
In the middle of the ballroom, a magical spotlight highlighted the figure standing on the rising stage, designed to give Paradox a huge leg-up in making a name for himself and currying favor with the crowd.
His grandmother is practically shoving fame down his throat. With his pedestrian upbringing, I wonder if he sees this as a bad thing.
“This should be interesting,” George said, crossing his arms.
***Perry***
Okay, okay, calm down. You’ve made a scene in power-armor before and had people gawking at you. You went onCapes Tonight and survived. This is just another fight you didn’t prepare for. With words.
First thing I need to do is calm down, and think fast.
Sliding Stats
Stability 17 -> 9
Nerve 9 -> 13
Attunement 25 -> 29
Suddenly Paradox didn’t give a shit about the crowd, the people staring at him, or anything, really. Nothing except the indignant anger of being put on the spot. If this was a stunt perpetrated by his grandmother, then he would fire back in kind.
“Greetings, Manitians,” Perry said, his voice reverberating through the ballroom. “My name is Paradox Zauberer, and I am not worthy of being here.”
Perry paused a beat, allowing them to process that.
“And it’s not because I’m young, or that I’m an extremely late bloomer,” Perry punctuated that with a ball of light above his hand. “And frankly a poor substitute for the great queen who led the exodus to Earth so that we might live.”
“No,” Perry said. “I’m not worthy to be here because I don’t share that one, deep thing that makes us Manitians. And that’s the memory of our homeland that each and every one of you carries in your breast.” Perry said, pointing out the older-looking humans and creatures. Ones who had been there.
“That absence sears a hole in my very soul,” Perry said. “But I weep to know that my pain is only a hollow echo of the loss each and every one of you have experienced.”
“Well fuck that!” Perry said, switching up his somber tone and cadence. “I’ve got a long, full life ahead of me, and I’m going to dedicate it to giving you back that one thing we’re all missing: our home!”
There were scattered shouts of agreement.
“Who ever said we had to stay here forever?”
Perry paused, allowing the shouts to grow louder.
“Who ever said there was no going back?”
The shouts redoubled.
“I’m going to take Earth’s industry, I’m going to build an army, concoct the most potent magics the multiverse has ever seen, and I’m going to apply all of it to TAKING. BACK. OUR. HOME!”
The ballroom erupted with applause.
Eat that, Gramma. Perry thought.
“Die, Zauberer!” John Gabras said, erupting out of a magical disguise and charging the stage, potent life-draining magic swirling around his fingertips.
Perry made finger-guns and John skidded to a halt, the tiny contract dart sticking out of his shoulder, fired from the ceiling decoration.
Perry reached out and grabbed the stunned Nocul’s hand and hoisted him up on stage.
“If we do this, we’re going to need to come together, heal the wounds of the past, and focus! This isn’t going to happen overnight! It’ll take decades of single-minded will to tame the Manitian wilderness, but if we work together, your grandchildren will be manitians again!”
“I agree with everything Paradox said!” John Gabras shouted, pumping his fist in front of the crowd.
“I thought you would,” Perry said, clapping a hand over the Nocul leader’s shoulder and plucking the dart out before pocketing the blood-contract.
As the applause and cheering gradually diminished, Perry rode that waning roar back down to a somber tone.
“That, my people, is my solemn vow to you. My mission in life, my sole duty to you, from now until the end, will be leading the charge to retake the lands we once called home. Be patient with me. It will take time, but I’m still young, and I’m a grower, not a shower.”
Perry heard Heather’s distinctive guffaw in the distance at his double entendre, drawing out his first real smile of the speech.
Always end on a dick joke, son. It’s the classy thing to do.
+500 XP
Perry’s brows twitched as the XP notification passed through his awareness. Was it for the speech or darting John Gabras and turning him into a sycophant for the night?
Both, maybe?
“C’mon, buddy, let’s go find our friends.” Perry said, stepping off the stage, shaking hands as he traversed the ballroom floor towards the sound of Heather’s laugh.
“I agree, my friend, whatever you say.” The Nocul said, following behind him like a puppy.
Perry glanced behind him at the John and saw the skin of his smiling face momentarily wither away in fanciful manitian font.
‘You will suffer for this’
“Oh, stuff it,” Perry said. “You just tried to kill me. How is taking away your freedom and using you as a political tool for a single night worse?”
‘do you really intend to bring our homeland back’
Perry shrugged. “Eh, that was just something I said to make a splash and outshine my Gramma, but…yeah, that actually sounds like a fun pastime. Oh, that reminds me,”
Sliding stats
Attunement 29 -> 25
Nerve 13 -> 9
Stability 9 -> 17
…Oh my god, what have I done?
Perry had come up with the plan to prey upon the single unifying trauma that all manitians shared in a fraction of a second. He knew it would be an effective political move to rally them to him by promising them Manita, and because of his low stability, he didn’t care that he was likely giving them a load of hot air.
The sheer hurdles to retaking an entire planet were mind-boggling…
Although…at the rate I’m growing, it might actually become possible someday. Why not make that a lifetime goal?
“Cousin! What an inspired speech!” Francine said, emerging from the crowd and standing in front of him with a light stance. “You wouldn’t happen to have time for a-“
“Here, dance with John. Careful not to let him kill you,” Perry said, shoving the Nocul into Francine’s arms before continuing on.
“Paradox!” Ellanore said, darting out from between two oversized wooly figures in order to block Perry’s path. Perry used the move he’d learned in gym class, faking left, then shoving off his left foot to pivot right, faking Ellanore out and twirling out of sight around one of the yetis.
“Do you really think you can-“
“Yes,” Perry said, smiling and shaking hands even as he moved across the floor.
“When will-”
“In my thirties, most likely,” Perry said, moving on.
“Where are you going with such haste, cousin, do you hate me?” little Mary Frepon asked, appearing in front of him. The lanky little thing was the second youngest Frepon sibling present, weapons-grade cute and unafraid to use it ruthlessly.
She’s small and light on her feet, able to slip between people more effectively to chase me. I need something to keep her in place long enough to gain a lead.
“Well you see, - OH MY GOSH IS THAT JACOB MACOA?” Perry shouted with a gasp, pointing out the darkly handsome manitian actor.
Luckily Mary was still a little inexperienced.
“Where!?” Mary asked, standing on her tippie toes and craning her next in an attempt to peer through the crowd.
With his enhanced physical prowess, Perry vanished silently into the crowd while her attention was on the heartthrob actor.
In the distance, Perry heard the band starting up, and saw people begin to pair up and drift towards the dance floor.
Dangit!
In the distance, he could make out Heather’s red-gold hair, making her stand out against the crowd.
Where Heather was, Nat was sure to be as well.
Perry made a beeline to Heather, shaking hands and greeting people as sparingly as he could, arriving breathlessly beside Heather as the first song of the night began to play.
“Im, here,” Perry panted, “First. Dance. Where’s, Nat?”
“Over there,” Heather said, pointing to the dance floor, where Rodney, the little blonde brat, was nervously going through the steps of a manitian waltz, with Nat leading.
“He said he was really bad at dancing and there was no one his size who would dance with him other than his sister, so Nat took pity on him.”
“It was a RUSE!” Perry said, clenching his fist.
“That’s what I said,” Heather nodded.
Perry briefly considered steamrolling the kid and cutting in, but it would be pretty damn rude, and honestly, who gave a shit if a little kid danced with Nat?
The race for the first dance bit was just that: A bit. Perry didn’t actually place a whole lot of significance on it.
“Well, shoot. Dance?” Perry asked, extending a hand to Heather.
“I dunno, you’re going to have to prove you’re better than the last dozen or so guys that’ve tried.”
“You can’t be serio-“
“Excuse me miss,” a young manitian said, drying his palms against his fancy coat nervously. “Would you do me the honor of-“
“Get lost,” Heather said, “I’m dancing with the prince, here.” She took Perry’s hand and began sashaying over to the dance floor.
‘Sorry’ Perry mouthed over his shoulder at the crestfallen young man.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Heather said as she placed her hand on his shoulder and the two began to navigate the dance floor. “I see you as the evil I know.”
“Sure,” Perry said, nodding. “It doesn’t hurt that dancing with me makes you famous by association, either, I’ll bet.”
Heather glanced over at the Manitian girls on the sidelines watching the two of them like hawks. She shot them a smug smirk.
“You’re almost as bad as Vanessa Brown,” Perry said, shaking his head.
“It’s my competitive nature, I guess,” Heather said, looking back at him. “If somebody else wants something, I want to have it first.”
“Heather…did you let Nat get sniped so you could steal my first dance in front of the entire ball?”
“Who knows?” Heather said, glancing off to the side with a smirk of picturesque non-innocence.
“Alright, you wanna dance with the prince, you gotta earn it,” Perry said as a smile bloomed on his face to match Heather’s
In a mischievous move, Perry swept the lead away and left behind the sedate pace they’d been dancing at, twirling between other dancers on the floor, with nothing but their unnatural physical prowess to keep them from violently colliding.
A pair cut in out of nowhere, and Heather flowed around them like water, her hand still holding Perry’s. Perry improvised her dodge into a twirl, then brought her in close and dipped her low, her legs tangled around his thigh.
Perry could see the sheen of sweat on her brow, the blush in her cheeks, and her racing heart in the hollow of her neck.
“Having fun?” Perry asked, pushing them smoothly back up with a single superhuman push from his foot.
“You’ve been taking lessons from Breaker too?” Heather asked as they flowed through the dance floor.
“Well, it made sense for me to do it since it’s my ball, but I thought you were too cool to take lessons.” Perry said as he brought her in close again.
“I’m too cool to let anyone KNOW I take lessons,” Heather said with a brilliant smile. “Huge difference. Obviously this is all natural talent.”
“Obviously,” Perry rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help himself from smiling. Somehow Heather had made the big, scary dancing segment of the ball into a competition, and by doing so, had made it no longer scary.
The song couldn’t last forever, and when it ended, Perry and Heather came to a halt in the center of floor, lightly panting. On the edge of the dance floor, Perry spotted Natalie watching the two of them with a hungry gaze that…made Perry a bit worried about later that night.
Together they tried to approach the black-haired Tinker, but were met with a wall of prospective dance partners.
One of whom did not take no for an answer, simply grabbing Perry’s hand and wrenching him back out onto the dance floor.
The girl’s grip was magically strengthened, and Perry wouldn’t be able to get out of it without flopping like a fish or decking the woman in between the eyes.
Neither was acceptable behavior from a half-prince.
“My name is Neverre, your highness,” She said as she dragged him out onto the dance floor.
Neverre was a pretty, dark-skinned woman with dark wavy hair and eyebrows that looked professionally manicured, a low-cut gown, and a tantalizing scent wafting up from the generous cleavage she seemed to be trying to push into his face.
“And may I say that your declaration of intent to return our home back to us was inspired. My-“
“Is that Kloth bloom fragrance?” Perry interrupted as they danced. “You know that stuff is frowned upon, right?”
It seemed like Neverre, or her sponsor, was pulling out all the stops to make a good impression, including magical perfume that existed in a similar grey area as the semi-legal love charms.
Which, ironically, made a pretty bad impression.
The woman dancing with him blanched, her eyes darting to the side.
“It’s diluted milord, hardly a suggestion of its power. Really, it’s just for the scent.”
“Sure.” With the swiftness of a stage magician, Perry pulled a tiny spray cannister of lotion out of the ether and used it to smother the scent before slipping it into his pocket. Normally it would be pretty rude to spray a woman’s chest with an unknown liquid in the middle of a dance, but she’d crossed the line first, and Perry was very discreet.
“You don’t need to wash that off,” Perry said as she gasped at the cold dribbling down the valley of her decolletage. “It’s good for your skin.”
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