it's all lies, darling

“Well, I like playing my cards at the right moment, you see. Had you not been in trouble, I would have kept this particular one up my sleeve for far longer.” The option to carry her was still pretty much open, but he would rather turn to that only when it was highly necessary. He was glad that Valentina seemed to catch on and kept moving. Just as he opened his mouth to ask about her own abilities, he felt it zip completely shut. It didn’t take much to figure it was his companions own doing. Telekinesis? Biological Manipulation? The answer would have to wait until he could actually ask a question.

Once they reached Central Park, Damian felt the force clamping his lips shut lighten. There was no delight in being one-upped by Valentina, but he wasn’t going to admit defeat that quick. He would get her back one day. “I can think of better ways to keep it occupied,” he quipped with a held back smirk. And then the quiet settled, dented here and there by the sounds of the distant chaos at the MET and New York’s bustling activity settling in for the night.

“You’re very much welcome, Valentina.” Had this been a pleasant, or even remotely normal day, his devious mind would have churned out plenty of ideas to pay her debt. But the exhaustion was beginning to inhibit him, and Damian thanked the dim light of Central Park for keeping guard of his wearing out façade. And yet it seemed as though his own voice was betraying him. “For the moment, I would like to remain in New York’s good graces and stick to prominence and eloquence, instead of infamy and notoriety. I would highly appreciate it if you let the rumors remain nothing more than that.” Somehow his voice sounded less hard, less guarded than it usually seemed. If Valentina had been listening carefully, she would have caught it.

“If ever the business success heads south and I am left with no other option but to allow my involvement in the mafia take the wheel, you’d be the first on the guest list of my grand coming out party.” He doubted any of his patrons would care enough about his involvement with the mafia. Recently, the rumors had been persistent and yet, not a single fluctuate in his revenue. But Damian would rather play it safe. At least for the moment. “Now, after what had just happened, I don’t think it’s quite safe to be alone. I would like to extend this rare moment of kindness and offer you a ride home. I could call my chauffeur to come pick us up, and we could drive you to anywhere you need to be.”

She should’ve known better than to stick around in the MET for far too long. They didn’t seem to care if she was left behind or if something would happen to her, but maybe they simply knew she was one of the first to escape certain death if needed. Running into Damian, however, created a new tension inside of her, uncertainty, confusion -- the mutual feeling of seeing someone you have believed to be nothing but a Mundane at such a prestigious gala. Valentina had to laugh at the mere thought he might’ve been nothing but a waiter, despite his obvious social status and rank. Just to escape reality Valentina had forced her mind to play tricks on her today, though, luckily, he’d been there to help her. 

“You’re so fucking secretive, Damian. Come on, you’re not Batman,” she raised an eyebrow and grinned at him. Secrecy, money, power -- the parallels were there, visible to her, and a perfect way to tease him further. “I guess I don’t know who you truly are,” her voice resonated softly at his words, the same softness she’d just heard within his own. The need to touch him slowly crept its way into her mind, but she managed to suppress it. With them being alone in Central Park Valentina knew they could easily talk and do whatever they desired -- chaos reigned and today was just the beginning. “Again? Now you’re just really playing white knight, aren’t ya?” Valentina pushed him ever so gently. “Fine, then -- but only if your limo’s equipped with bourbon or else I’ll walk home.” Valentina crossed her arm and looked towards the night sky as they waited. A question lingered in her head, far too long for it to be left unanswered -- so she simply let curiosity take over. “Your powers,” Valentina turned towards Damian “show them to me.” The Ascendant moved dangerously close towards him, touching him gently. “Show them to me, I can take it.” She’d been influenced by many different powers, some of which impressed her, some of which even scared her, but this time intrigue kept her moving forward, wanting to see what he can really do.

Well, that was an unexpected turn of events.

Typically, Willow could smell death a mile away. One of the side effects of her gifts. She still wasn’t quite sure how the company had managed to connect her with some kind of “other side” she could usually sense these things. 

This time, though, it caught her by surprise. As did the sudden shout from her left. Willow’s blue eyes jumped to Valentina, surprised by her outburst but she remained still.  With a single uptick of one eyebrow, she replied. “What exactly are we running from? The responsible party should be present. Besides, I’m useful alive.”

All she really cared about was protecting her secret and her people. With each second passing more and more chaos started to overcome those moving forward, out of the MET, away from the invisible danger. The Air Syndicate wouldn’t start a war today, nor would any other Syndicate if they were smart enough, though targeting the Fire Syndicate seemed almost too convenient -- their temper always outdid every bit of careful planning and every bit of inconveniences usually enraged them. No time to think about what they might do, Valentina thought, but, as she yelled at everyone to leave, Willow didn’t react the way Valentina wanted her to react. Great. 

“I’m not here to go after them. This is Fire Syndicate business, not yours, not mine.” Valentina said, truthfully for once. She couldn’t just stand here and question everyone. The Fire Syndicate would pick their culprit all on their own, evidence or not. “If you think you can help in this situation, feel free to find something out. I’m not really interested in playing hide and seek with an assassin.”

🌻 a worried text.

🦋 a loving text.

🌻 a worried text.

💀 an urgent text.

💫 a late night text.

🔪 a hateful text.

It was a waiting game when it came to Val getting what she wanted, and Malakai wasn’t one to bet against her. So he stood, leaned against a wall. He was close enough that if he could be there in moments if she needed him. Not that she would. The only screams coming out of that room were that of her companion. When the next scream didn’t come, his ears perked up a little as Valentina came around the corner. Mal opened his mouth to speak only to be stopped as she started dragging him along.

Tsking softly, he shook his head, cutting off the smile that started to toy with his lips. Mal was used to her antics, having known her for about half his life. He truly didn’t believe that there was anything Valentina could do that would surprise him, not anymore. “That’s just terrible. Maybe with the right charge they would change their mind about opening up to you. You’re only trying to help, after all.” Glancing to the side, he raised an eyebrow at her, a silent question written on his face. “You know I’m always game for a little bit of fun, Val.”

She could poke those idiots forever, annoy them with tricks and games while they were all preoccupied with going for the kill. Though this might have been fun at first, Valentina grew tired of provoking all on her own, besides, they were clearly being hunted now, so she decided to return to her best friend with a grin, almost as if noting had happened. “Right? Those fucking retards really started to go on my nerves, I was pretending, just a little bit of fun.” Valentina gently pat against his shoulder. “Lighten up,” she winked. Smoke started to fill the streets and she prepared herself be stretching. “Alright -- I’ll make them drop and you will be drop dead gorgeous, ‘kay?” A glistening string appeared out of thin air after she twisted her fingers. “They will be here any second. They’re a bit slower,” she joked.

Just mere seconds before the chaos even erupted, Damian had felt the air surge and pulsate with fear. There was something rather fascinating about human intuition. It seemed to sense danger beforehand, albeit a bit too late, just as it was about to smack them right in the face. He thrived in the chaos, thought about adding just a touch more of terror to everyone running for their lives. But deciding instead to spare everyone of his little misdemeanor and save himself the energy, he settled instead to making sure his mob made it out alive. All the while, keeping a glass of champagne in hand.

Sticking to the darker corners of the gallery and casting the barest hint of fear to anyone who came a little too close, Damian finished the rest of his drink and began to escape the chaos. He would have loved to help out everyone else who was suffering at the hands of fellow ascendants had he had an ounce of care or time. At the moment, it was just about getting himself to safety.

As he rounded the corner to even more disorder and violence, the first thing he caught sight of was a familiar face. Valentina. With the name that she bore, the surprise he felt was idiotic, and yet it was there, undeniably. Damian was all too keen on being oblivious to her anguish, ready to accept an acquaintance’s inevitable demise, but what little heart he had got the best of him, and before there was even a thought about saving her life, his hand had reached out and clenched into a fist, sending Valentina’s assailant into paralyzing fear. No killing for him tonight.

“Miss Genovese,” he greeted in a casual tone that felt a tad out of place after what had just happened. “I would taunt and prod you about this fascinating new discovery I’ve made about you, but right now, I suggest we make a run for it, yes? Can you manage to stand?” And with the slightest hint of a smirk, he added, “Or would you prefer I carried you?”

She struggle underneath his touch as every bit of life force slowly started to leave her body like a stream of energy. He seemed to suck every bit of it up like a sponge, capable of taking this energy and just putting even more pressure into his grip. “Fucking,--” Valentina hissed “leech,” no doubt Earth Syndicate mobsters who tried to use the chaos as a way to justify their violence -- as if violence ever needed justification, not in their ranks at least. While the other laughed at her helplessness, the other, who still held her against the wall, abruptly fell towards his knees, held his head and started to scream. His eyes were widened, his breathing sounded irregular even with all that noise surrounding them, yet all Valentina really cared for was finally being free. The trickster pressed her back against the wall to remain on her feet, though she did have a hard time doing so. As she let her head tilt to the side to finally examine the source of such strength, her eyes widened in shock, almost as if she’d seen a ghost. “You’re kidding me? Damian?” The two others remained on the ground, now paralyzed, mouths opened wide and with little to no breathing coming from any of them, as if they’d seen the devil himself -- well, this wasn’t entirely untrue.  

Sighing deeply, still in disbelief, Valentina tried to push herself from the wall -- luckily, she did manage to stabilize herself. “So you could instill fear into others and you managed to keep this a secret all this time without boasting just a little bit?” Valentina looked surprised, but as his suggestion to carry her, she quickly started to move, wonky at first, but steadier by the second. Just so she could have a quiet moment of recovery, Valentina bent her fingers into a fist and zipped his mouth shut until they were outside, somewhere more quiet. As they finally found a place within Central Park, Valentina lifted the little inconvenience she’d placed on him and turned around. “Oh, I like you much more with your mouth either occupied or shut completely,” she smirked “or blurting out the truth, for once.” She took a deep sigh, almost as if to shake off the previous trauma of being drained of her life force. “Thank you, I owe you,” her last few words were accompanied by a bittersweet sound to it, much of it due to not wanting to say those words to begin with.