The vampire Queen, or Karry, as she preferred to be known when she wasn’t dressed up in red leather and terrorizing a crowd, lived in an extremely expensive apartment in downtown Toronto. No one was supposed to know where she lived, or even what she called herself outside of her villainous activities. But as Oasis entered the elevator of the incredibly posh building, they wondered how no one had ever made the connection. Everything in here screamed rich, casual disdain of one’s fellow beings, from the actual chandeliers on the ceiling of the lobby to the valet that went around parking people’s cars, like this was some sort of five stars hotel people just happened to live in year round.
Oasis looked at the mirrored panels on the elevator walls, reflecting them infinitely from all sides. Gosh, but Karry must have hated this place. She was such a snob that she couldn’t stand to live anywhere less dramatic, but she must have hated it all the same. She really was much more of a ‘haunted manor in the forest’ kinda gal. She definitely wasn’t a mirror kinda gal, and mirrors weren’t usually all that fond of her, either. Especially those backed in silver.
At this point in time, technically, Oasis didn’t know her that well. Their Nemesis-hood was still in it’s infancy, so to speak. That was about to change. Oasis had thirty years of forewarning, and not a lot of patience left. They were sure Karry would understand. They would make her understand.
They exited the common elevator into a beautiful hallway, and went straight to the other, private elevator hiding between two tall and lush potted plants. This one had a keypad, and went to the penthouse, where no one but Karry and the building staff had access.
Without even the slightest hesitation, Oasis keyed in the password, certain that Karry hadn’t changed it once in thirty years. She was a creature of habit, as most vampires were, and Oasis planned on putting their knowledge of those habits to very good use.
The small reception room that waited at the other end of that elevator was as posh and ridiculous as the rest of the building, but on the front door of the penthouse itself was finally something that indicated who might live here. Oasis stared at the brass knocker, amused and oddly charmed. Smack in the middle of the door, clashing horribly against it’s white blandness, was a large metallic bat holding a ring in its claws. It must have shocked the building staff quite badly when she’d gotten it installed, unless they’d chalked it off to rich eccentricity. And really, if she’d lived here any amount of time, they must have eventually gotten used to her quirks. Everything in the apartment beyond, Oasis knew, was either cursed, gave out the appearance of being cursed, or seemed to have been custom-made with the words “rich gothic lady” in mind. It was a bit terrifying at first, but once Oasis had gotten used to it, they found it to be quite charming. A bit nerdy, even, in the way only themed weddings and dracula cosplayers could be.
Oasis took a hold of the knocker and let it fall three times on it’s base, the rich brass sound echoing into the apartment beyond. They fell back on their heels, something like nerves finally working their way through their body.
After a few minutes, during which they considered knocking again, the door was wrenched open. Karry stood on the other side, dishevelled and confused, as if she couldn’t quite understand what was going on. She looked like she’d been sleeping, her long black hair tousled, her face cleaned of her usual heavy makeup. A soft-looking, deep red silk bathrobe was wrapped hastily around her body, its gaping collar and short length revealing long expenses of white skin.
Oasis looked her up and down, just to be a prat, and raised their eyebrows.
“It’s three in the afternoon.”
Karry’s mouth, which had been gaping open, closed with a snap. Then, she pulled the top of her robe more firmly closed and scowled at them.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I need your help.”
Karry looked like the world had just turned upside down. “What?” She looked around, as if reassuring herself that reality was still in place, and then repeated “What?” slightly louder.
Oasis sighed. They really didn’t have time for this.
“Look,” they began. “I know we were trying to kill each other, like, yesterday, but I’ve just travelled backward in time. I’m from thirty years in the future, and I need your help. The future is shit, alright? Like, end of the world shit. And we need to stop that from happening.”
“The future,” she mouthed, then “we?”
Oasis was starting to get annoyed. It was hard for them to see her like that, to see her alive, if that word even applied to someone like her. Even though it had all gone downhill between the two of them in the end, Karry had still been a big part of their world for something like three decades, and they’d missed her after the end of the world. The faster she got on with the program and helped them, the better it would be for everyone involved. They had thirty years before the event, but still. Every minute counted.
Not to mention that they didn’t really look forward to the weirdness that was sure to happen now that she didn’t remember any of their shared past/future. Oasis didn’t have the first clue how to talk to a person that they knew, but that didn’t know them. Not properly, anyway. But at least they knew that they wouldn’t have the chance to properly connect with her while standing in the middle of the corridor.
“Look, I just know you, okay?” they huffed, waving a hand in the air. “I know this is something you’ll want to help me with. Just let me in!”
Karry seemed to shake herself, and then stood more firmly into the entrance of the door, blocking the apartment beyond with her slim frame. Her hands, loose at her side, twitched, as if she was seconds away from unsheathing the claws Oasis knew from experience were deathly sharp. This was her battle stance, they knew, or close to it, and they weren’t sure whether to be wary, or relieved that the gravity of the situation finally seemed to be sinking in. Even if she did look disarmingly soft in her thin bathrobe.
“Why should I help you? Are we friends in the future or something?”
“No,” they said, honestly, although they weren’t quite sure how to describe what they’d been, once upon a time before the end. “It’s more like… Do you watch anime?”
She blinked at their apparent non-sequitur, but she wasn’t closing the door yet. Besides, Oasis had seen how she dressed, so they went on before she could answer: “you know how in an anime, the season one villain ends up being small fish next to the season seven villain, and then they just sort of become like a weird murderous uncle - or aunt I guess - to the main cast?”
Karry frowned at them, and they shifted awkwardly in place. Why couldn’t she just be chill, for pete’s sake? They hadn’t even brought their sword.
“And then they just, I guess,” they continued, now committed to this weird rambly explanation of theirs, “they become sort of allied with the main character even though they still have their own evil plans and stuff but they don’t want to see the world destroyed, you know? It’s like that. It’s been like that between us for years.”
She frowned at them for a little bit longer, and then her hands relaxed, a minute twitching that someone who hadn’t spent as much time fighting her as Oasis might not even have noticed. “Like Zuko?” she asked.
“What? No!”, they said, somehow offended by that remark, as though the sanctity of cartoon storytelling was of any great importance, right now. “Zuko had a full on redemption arc! We — you — It was never like that.”
“… Like Vegeta, then?”
Oasis blinked. “I never really watched Dragonball,” they admitted sheepishly.
“Me neither,” she retorted with indignant irritation. “You’re the one who brought anime into this!”
“Forget anime,” they said, waving their hands around, fully aware that this conversation had somewhat gotten away from them. “Can I just come in?”
Karry rolled her eyes and finally, blessedly, moved away from the door.
“Come in. Get comfortable, or whatever. I’m going to go get dressed. This doesn’t seem like a conversation to be had naked.”
Oasis, despite their weariness, despite their pain and anxiety and the looming end of the world, still managed to blush at that comment, betrayed by a twenty years old body that still felt too young and too fresh. Karry seemed to notice, and huffed softly as she disappeared into the recess of her apartment.
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