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The lich gazed into the blood pool, watching what transpired. Images of Alexandra Steele and Milo Archer conversing. Rezurrection stooped himself into a crouch, adjusting the series of images with a touch of his transparent, bony finger. His cold, skull-like face grew dire as he observed the kiss between the two people. Aware of a presence, he turned his head to see Jacque Quentin, a sour expression upon his youthful features.
"Damn!" Q's eruption of disapproval nearly mimicked his daughter's own in the sanguinary scenes previous. Gregory stood to his feet, examining his half-brother with his undead emotionlessness. The anachronistic anomaly tightened his fist in outrage. He swore repeatedly. "She was supposed to fall for Xenon! Rez..." he stared hard at the lich, "make her fall in love with Xenon. Milo Archer is not a part of our plan."
"Don't presume to command me, Q. I granted you your makeshift immortality. Hell help me, I will take it back and find a way to kill you like I once dreamed as a mortal man." The blood sorcerer growled. "Do not pretend you have the understanding of magic like I have, wretched half-breed. I cannot control Alexandra like I can those more closely tied to death. Her unique vampirism only gives me some sway, each death forcing her more and more into my grasp." He gave a wry laugh with a cruel curl of his clear lip. "Perhaps if the Third Society had killed her properly, her mind would already be mine. But how can you be sure she will not be able to salvage her relationship with the mutant king? It was you who set her on this path because of her unparalleled feminine wiles."
Q thrust his cane into the fell pool, the image of his golden-haired daughter shattering into a series of crimson ripples. "How do I know? I've seen it you short-sighted corpse! Or have you forgotten my frequent forays into the future? You showed me in your very blood scrying pool."
Time not quite being linear for the temporal traveler, the scene shifted to one nearly identical to the one previous:
The familiar blood trickled down into the pool, Rez kneeling before it as Q stood somberly looking down. The image circling in the foul portal was of Venezuela in the not too distant future. Xenon had discovered Xandra's affair with the Keijijo Kaze.
The Shadow Sorcerer’s palms were fixed behind of his back, surveying a mental image had been relayed to himself by the VSS, and he turned, gazing towards the former White Queen with a gaze of disappointment, a stern face, one of a King whom had faced hardship. One of a king whom had endured far more than which was required; and one of a King hurt beyond physical woes.
“Milo Archer,” he said, the words calm, no spite, hate, nor emotional attachment to those words.
He turned his head away, gazing into the distance. “I would have loved you, Xandra. I would have shown you as much affection as I show my own country. You finally had a chance to be more than the icy Queen which you preside yourself as,” he turned back, “you would have finally found happiness.” He paused, and closed his eyes, gazing down.
“I would have shared my bed with you, Dr Steele, but more than that…” He looked up, his dark, powerful eyes gazed into her own, almost wistfully. Almost. “…I would have shared my country with you, and overnight, you would have been the most powerful woman in the world. All of your dreams, desires, and needs would have been realized… But now,” the King of Mutant’s slowly shook his head and looked away, softly sighing. “You will have nothing.”
The Sorcerer removed a vial, blood contained within. “For all your beauty, for all of your allure and for all of your power, Dr Steele, you are a mere vampire – A parasite, a slave to your lusts. You would not have lost this amazing chance, if you had not treated it with disrespect. I would have given you everything and more,” the blood red vial was crushed between his fingers as it seeped onto his skin, drenching it with Mutant’s incomparable blood.
“You betrayed me. You made me feel closer than I had ever felt before, you had the world at your fingertips… Your dreams were but a few steps away…” He dropped the vial pieces as the blood stained the floor. “But you let it slip through your fingertips, because you lack any sense of self-respect.”
The mutant King turned, and looked away from the former White Queen. He had been hurt, hurt by his own vulnerability, and now he would never love again.
“Leave my country. Do not return,”
His eyes glowed bright gold, and then he glanced back.
“I showed you my life and my hardship, let you into my heart. And you defiled that trust.”
Gulping down a breath of air, his chest felt heavy.
But his head; felt clear.
“I pity you.”*
The world was altered back to it's present, Q's past. His jaw was set, his dark brows furrowed over his red eyes. "Fix this Gregory. I'm not losing someone of Xenon's potential because my dear daughter cannot control her baser urges."
"Ha!" The lich cackled, the eerie laugh that could stir fear into lesser souls was devoid of joy or any emotional expression besides cognitive derision. "Says the philandering Frenchman, the son of a Frank whore. How many times have you cheated on your beloved Angelique? Or have you lost count over your many years thinking with your genitalia?"
Enraged, Q teleported inches from his brother, his fingers wrapped around that deathly neck. "I have and always will love my darling Angelique. It was with no other woman I sought to raise a child. You feel nothing, lich. You gave up your humanity entirely."
"And yet she ran into my arms eagerly accepting my gift of immortality at the bitter end, finally realizing her error in wasting her time with you. I gave her what you never could. I returned her youth and beauty to her." A contrived, transparent, fleshy smile spread over that continually mirthless smile ever present on his skull features.
"She is dead! She should have been laid to rest not raised to become a shade of her former self. Where is she now? Where are you keeping my wife's spirit?" Mister Q's grip tightened though he knew such an effort would have not the slightest effect on the walking dead.
Rez calmly removed the Frenchman's hand from his throat. "Oh, she's here. I'm granting her a rest from her immortal, sleepless consciousness."
His red eyes stared into Rėza's glowing vermillion orbs. "Mon ange is inside your soulless form? A most hideous prison." Q snarled. "I have had enough of your talk, Gregory. I expect your action. Fix this madness with Xandra. An alchemical solution. Anything. Just ensure she ends up with Xenon. Even for the immortals of the House of Q, we simply haven't the time for this petty drama." He pointed toward the skeletal man, his disdain apparent, the hatred between the kin undying through their long centuries. "Time is of the essence." And just as soon as he had spoken, the anachronistic anomaly vanished. The necromancer set about his most fervent devices.
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Cast of characters:
- Gregory Rėza (rezurrection)
- Jacque Quentin (misterq)
- Alexandra Steele (the_psyentist)
- Milo Archer (@tranquil)
- King Xenon (@xenon_)
*Note: Credit to @pyrogram for the future scene of Xenon speaking with Xandra. When he shared it with me, it was just too beautifully tragic not to use. :D
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