Hot Mess

[Zero Quinn]

*Strolls, under the cover of night and a slightly worn cloak, on the edges of the village. He doesn't want to be spotted which was another reason for choosing the late night walk. The first is simply because he prefers the moons soft glow over the harsh light of day.*

*Since the Ministry deemed it prudent to incarcerate Zero for a spell, he figures it's equally important not to be spotted by any employed there, and so he's sure to keep the cloak's hood low. Absconding from his duties as a spy is likely to land him in some more hot water when and if he's caught. That too, would explain why he abandoned his home in Godric's Hollow and holed up in a horrifying hut miles outside of Hogsmeade.*

*The anxiety he feels is quite obvious as he steals across the landscape, nearing the village. He isn't accustomed to living in such a foul state, the filth actually feels as though its crawling over his skin. Wizard or not, no one could get his new homestead properly clean let alone clean enough for him.*

[Dante Fuilteach]

Dante was used to wandering. After two years of avoiding humans as much as possible, so as to conceal his fallen beauty from the eyes of others, he had learned to love solitude and quiet walks under the light of the moon. Tonight was no different. He had started out with a fancy to visit Hogsmeade, maybe to stop by his sister's home and see if she had left any of her things behind. He thought maybe he could bring them to her in the hospital. Upon seeing light inside the house, he realised that Vladislav must be within, and in a rare display of empathy for another, Dante decided that the poor man had suffered enough shocks and dramatic Fuilteachs for one lifetime.

So, he wandered through the sleeping village, the hood of his cloak down so he could feel the moonlight on his skin. In the old days, on a beautiful full moon night like this, Dante would have been preened and primed, dressed to impress and basking in the silvery-blue light, delighting in how it limned his features to their best advantage.
Now he was so scarred, his clothes were functional rather than flamboyant. He wore a simple, off-white shirt (but not without a modest amount of lace at the cuff), dark trousers, and a dark grey cloak. He had yet to return home and dig out his old finery, his velvet frockcoats, brocade waistcoats, fine linen shirts and scandalously tight leather trousers. He missed those days. He missed his beauty.

Perhaps it was this preoccupation with himself that meant he did not notice the presence of another approaching as he came to the edge of the village.

[Zero Quinn]

It's a shadow. Just another shadow...

The way the moonlight shone down here and there played tricks with Zero's eyes. He was constantly reassuring himself no one was going to pop out from the brush and attack. His hand however, wasn't accepting any excuses, and it twisted nervously in his pocket where he tucked away safely his wand and an worn old galleon. Both objects were most important to Zero, but at the moment he was undecided on which to keep in his grip. The wand, obviously first choice for many, didn't have the calming effect the coin had when he turned it about in his hand, and so, he kept moving back and forth between the two as he hoped the need for his wand wouldn't come.

Luck was not on his side, which didn't come as a shock. Since Zero had lost one other treasured possession things for him had not gone quite the way he would have liked. That was another subject entirely though, and at the moment there were more pressing matters. Things such as: who was approaching? Zero's brilliant green eyes, while as stunning as he knew them to be, couldn't quite make out the face. There was a strange blur that slowly changed into a more horrifying sight the nearer the man drew.

Zero froze in his tracks. No...

He blinked a few times, figuring the light was messing him about again, but quickly realized the figure ahead to be true.

B-but... But he's dead. Sebastian said...he's dead...

Dante, alive and well, was right there, but something was terribly wrong with the vision. Or, what once was a vision. Zero recalled the stunning man painted in the portrait Sebastian showed him, and somehow, the same man was now grotesque...well, half of him anyway. He choked on a shocked gasp, forgetting all about the wand-coin debate, and stood rooted to the spot, unable, or more disturbing, unwilling to flee.

[Dante Fuilteach]

It was chilly this far North, and Dante preferred it that way. If he never felt warm again for the rest of his undeath, he would be happy. Heat brought back unpleasant memories for him, memories that could leave him a quivering, screaming wreck. He enjoyed the early spring chill. It made him feel safe, and it soothed the scars. Even now, nearly two years after the inferno, they felt uncomfortably warm. He sighed, closing his eyes for a few steps. With his eyes closed, he could suddenly hear and smell better than before. Vampire senses were always far stronger than a human's, and he was alarmed to catch the scent of a human close by, its scent carrying on the wind.

His eyes slammed open in horror, wondering had the unfortunate mortal seen his face. A sudden intake of breath formed a gasp, and Dante's heart sank. Whoever it was had seen his fallen face. He let his eyes fall on the man. One side of his face was unscathed, the other scarred beyond recognition. Even his lips were damaged, his eye socket twisted and puckered around eyes the colour of freshly spilled blood. What a sight it was to behold! The unfortunate person was frozen barely five paces ahead of him. Dante's feet were suddenly as heavy as lead. He could hear the man's heartbeat pounding like a war drum in his ears.

"So, you've seen my face," Dante said, a sad little sigh falling from his lips. "Have you ever seen anything as hideous in your life?" He didn't think he had ever seen this young man before. He had beautiful eyes, as green as a cat's. It would be a shame to kill such a finely crafted human. "Who are you, human?" he asked idly, still toying with the idea of killing him. His blood would nourish him, help to heal his deformities, and ensure that only those he permitted would see him in this sorry state.

[Zero Quinn]

The horror of the sight before him left Zero stock-still. Not only was Dante's face marred, but he was also a vampire, a fact the shocked wizard knew all too well. Not only had their mutual friend shared that information with Zero, but Dante's sister had given proof first hand. The memory of the fiery redhead sinking her fangs into his pale, supple flesh was not hard to dredge up. His now trembling hand left the pocket if his cloak and fluttered to his throat, and he was left speechless for the moment as he looked into the vampire's blood red eyes.

Of it's own accord, Zero's hand left his neck and returned to the pocket of his shabby cloak. The galleon was ignored in favor of the wand stowed away, and his fingers gripped the handle tightly in case of attack. "I am Zero, Dante. Annnd... I see you're not quite as dead as I was informed." He drawled, trying to sound calm and collected, but the shock of the situation had left him nearly quaking in his dragon-hide boots. "How... How does this come to be?"

Clearly something horrible had happened to Dante, though Zero wasn't very concerned with that right then. He was more focused on getting away without a drop of his blood leaving his precious body, which was the reason for asking after something that really isn't his business.

[Dante Fuilteach]

Dante's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You know me?" he asked. He did not remember Zero. He had no recollection of ever meeting him, and Lucretia had failed to mention in whose arms Sebastian had sought solace after Dante had fled the country. It was probably for the best. No matter how much he claimed that he did not mind that his beloved had moved on, his own nature meant that the jealousy would consume him.

Dante smirked and moved almost imperceptibly fast, appearing scarcely a pace ahead of Zero in less than a heartbeat. The bright moonlight meant his scars would be painfully obvious, silently telling the tale of how he had almost died. "Believe me, it was quite a shock to me, too, realising I was not dead. But oh, how I longed for it. Have you ever been burned, Zero? It is quite the experience. As a matter of interest, how did you hear of my demise? My father didn't exactly place an obituary with the Daily Prophet." He looked more intently at Zero now he was so close. What beautiful features he had! Such green eyes... Dante only dragged his gaze away from them to look at Zero's mouth. It was a mouth made to bring death to life, the underlip sucked in as if it strove to kiss itself. His face was pearly pale, the dark shadow of his hair framing his features.

"Be thankful for your beauty, Zero. I thought mine eternal, only to have it robbed from me. Were I a more bitter man, I would seek to rob you of yours, but I was avenged within the hour of my assault. I was burned by vampire hunters. A dozen men or more set me alight, like the witchfinders of old. The fire caught, and how I screamed..." he hissed, and his fingers flexed instinctively. He longed to reach out and force the memories of his attack into the young man's mind. Why tell when one can show, after all? But no, that would be dreadfully impolite, and it was bad enough the poor fellow had already seen his face. There was no point in making the poor boy suffer more.

[Zero Quinn]

"Of course I don't know you.", Zero answered quickly as his already wide eyes grew larger. "However, I do know what you once were." The vision of the gorgeous creature painted long ago swam, again, in his mind's eye. He couldn't fathom who would, or even could, destroy such beauty. Sadly, the thought of what once was, also brought other memories back as well, and Zero fought off a shiver, feeling very cold all of a sudden. Without the warmth of his lost love's arms to comfort him an icy chill seemed to seep deeper into his bones, or maybe it was the the way in which those awful red eyes held his own. Didn't matter, none of that was important just now, because before Zero could answer how exactly he knew of the alleged death, Dante was suddenly just inches away. How he had moved so quickly couldn't be comprehended. Zero, witnessing first hand, hardly believed such speed, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw how frightfully close the vampire was. Terrible shame the subject of Sebastian had come about so quickly, for he had the inkling things would only go down hill from there.

He steeled himself, ignoring the chill, an appeared quite indifferent before answering. "We have a mutual friend... Or we did. Anyway, that is how I know of your... once believed condition." Strange, how easy it was to speak of his "friend" without showing much emotion. What one would do in the face of death. "I see now there was some information withheld, and Merlin me if it isn't simply delightful to learn of our misleading.", he added pleasantly, as if he hadn't a worry in the world. Meanwhile, his slender fingers turned the handle of his wand in rapid rotations.

A grin played at the corners of his lips as Dante began to tell the tale of his downfall. Zero most definitely did not believe he would ever find himself in the vampire's shoes. The one constant in his life, if nothing else, was his flawless face. But, to hear how the man was hunted and burned churned his stomach. He found himself pitying the vampire, and struggled to keep his serene expression. Wretched mongrels!, he thought, a sudden burning desire to destroy those that would ravage such artisty. Zero has always, and forever will, regard beauty and perfection with the highest esteem. Be it art, fabulous clothing, or what have you, if it's eye catching, Zero will appreciate it. He was once again struck dumb, and he was clearly enraged.

[Dante Fuilteach]

He could not help himself. He reached with his mind, caught the surface thoughts in Zero's brain; images of Dante in his prime, the gorgeous fop, clad in velvet and leather and lace, and painfully aware of his own beauty, depicted in an oil painting he had given to Sebastian... It was quite possible that the mutual friend Zero spoke of was Lucretia. Sebastian would have proudly displayed the painting to any guest to their little flat. There was no reason to leap to conclusions, absolutely no reason to believe that this pulchritudinous wretch had been with his beloved, utterly no indication that those lips he had admired only moments ago had pressed to the skin Dante had worshipped!

He stared in terrible silence at Zero for a time, his scarlet eyes wide and for just a second, he looked every bit as intimidating and horrifying as a vampire should. He blinked, and the moment was gone, his rage locked down. "A mutual friend, you say. You have seen me at my best, Zero. I saw that image clearly in your mind. Forgive me, for the intrusion, but I had to know. You recognised me, despite my injuries. If you tell me that mutual friend was my darling Lucretia, I will accept it. If, however, you tell me that our mutual friend was a tender mortal who still owns my black heart, I may be slightly less civil toward you," he said softly.

He did not want to believe it. He had known that Sebastian would be lonely without him, and mortals, who bloom and fade as swiftly as blossoms in spring, will not wait forever. He had not expected him to wait forever, no, but to come face to face with one he may have sought comfort from was almost too much to bear. In his darkest moments, when the flames licked at his skin and he had longed for the pain to consume him and set him free, he had thought of his beloved. The memory of his face forced Dante to crawl to the side of the moat, to fall into the murky water and sink into the deep. Thoughts of him pushed Dante to seek out all the wretched, cold-blooded life in those waters, and partake of their blood until he was strong enough to take a human victim, and begin his recovery.

He had emerged from those waters like the Nosferatu monster told in whispers to children at bedtime, gruesome and terrible and foul, and took what blood he could find. In time, his flesh began to heal, his frame to fill out, his hair began to grow again. He was still half a monster, but it was better than the beast he had been before. He had returned home to find that people believed him dead. Well, better to let them think he was. The old Dante was dead, and in his place was this fiend, but one thing this creature had was patience, and infinite amounts of it. He had learned that in the dank waters of Transylvania. A vampire has nothing if not time to wait for the opportune moment.

[Zero Quinn]

The rage, very raw and nearly bubbling over, lasted for a fleeting moment. He was immediately distracted by the way in which Dante took him in. Those terrible, watching red eyes made the vampire truly appear like Death himself, and to be truthful would likely bring about Zero's demise. Interestingly, he didn't really take such a possibility to heart. Yes, the thought occurred to him, but he was weary of lies. He didn't want to continue down a path that was chosen for him, living as others thought him to be, and since fleeing his own wedding -with Sebastian on his arm- he had decided to live for himself. Gone would be the days filled with hope that none had found him out, and the freedom -even while imprisoned- had never tasted so sweet. Perhaps now would be the moment everything ceased to exist for Zero.

His head tilted, and for a passing moment, he stood wondering how quickly Dante's civility would come to an end. Will he strike as I speak the words..? Inside the cloak's pocket his hand froze, the handle of his wand had never been gripped so tightly, and sadly, he knew that he was helpless. Moments before he had seen how quickly a vampire could move, there was not a chance he could brandish his wand before Dante pounced, let alone have the time to utter the needed incantation. It didn't stop the words from leaving his lips though. "I'm sure I don't need to speak for you to know, but to hear it might make all the difference. You must know how distraught he was... How Sebastian was nothing more than a beautiful, hollow shell merely drifting along, and yet he saved me. Me! of all beings was the one fortunate to receive his rescuing. So, how could I not recognize you? You, the one to hold part of his heart so I could not claim it entirely, your image is seared in my mind.", he replied matter-of-factly.

Each word said was true. Zero knew there was a spot within Sebastian that he would never touch, and it did hurt for a time, but to live without the man as he has been doing would be far more painful. Sebastian had made him feel as though he could've danced on the sun, he understood Dante's, or thought he did, own suffering. "Just know that for a brief time Sebastian was happy, and no harm would have ever befallen him while I stood at his side."

[Dante Fuilteach]

The moments passed, accented only by Zero's pounding heartbeat. His hesitation spoke volumes, and Dante felt a curious combination of heartache and fury. When Zero finally spoke, each word fell heavy on him, breaking his heart with the truth. He had left him, of course his sweeting would be lonely and in despair! Why had he been so foolish? He should have left Ophelia in their father's care, and stayed with his beloved. If he had done that... perhaps he would still have his beauty, and his love.

His face contorted, looking ugly as he tried not to cry, and he raised a hand to smite the messenger. He gave a strangled sob, finally giving in to the sorrow, and lowered his arm. "You loved him," he said, mastering the tears enough to speak. "I have killed for far less in the past, but you loved him. How can I fault you for loving such an angel? How could any look upon his face and not love him?" He turned away from Zero, not caring any more that this was a (most likely) armed and frightened wizard before him, and that he might attack so as to make good his escape. He slumped to the ground, too stricken by his sadness to worry about his clothes getting dusty.

"Was he really so distraught by my departure? I gave my father letters to send to him. Surely he got them..." Dante asked, then trailed off as a sudden, awful thought occured to him. The letters he had written for Sebastian, explaining where he was, what had happened, and how he loved him... His father had sent them, hadn't he? Surely Sanguini had not been spiteful enough to withold them, not when he had his youngest's deteriorating sanity to worry about? He wiped the still damp blood tears from his face and said quietly, "I defied everything for him - vampire tradition, my father's wishes... I should have defied it all again, but my sister... I was blinded by my worry for her..."

[Zero Quinn]

The two shared the same pain. Many times in the endless months since he last laid eyes on Sebastian, Zero had broken down completely as Dante was currently doing. His green eyes fixed on the anguished soul fallen to the ground. "You speak as if my feelings are something of the past. Loved... How I wish! Sebastian still, and forever will, hold my entire being in the palm of his hand to crush over and over again as he sees fit. As of those letters you speak, I am aware of none that Sebastian was to receive." He spoke softly, somewhat stunned to see the vampire react in such an unexpected fashion, and his hand loosened around the wand.

With each word Dante struggled to speak, the boat in which the pair sat grew. It seemed their dearest had completely transformed the men. Both had done the unthinkable all in the name of love, and to see where it has landed them had Zero madly laughing into the night. "I too chose Sebastian above all!" The hood of his cloak had fallen when he shouted, and the agony he felt was plain as the nose on his face. Sharp cheek bones proved the weight lost to the already slender wizard -he hadn't had a proper meal since... forever- his typically shiny locks appeared tousled and hardly washed, and the general unkempt clothing was evidence of someone clearly lost and heart broken.

Never before had such beautiful beings appeared so ugly as Zero and Dante were in their losses; if any were to stumble upon them they would witness an everlasting fright. Tears of blood fell onto the uneven cheeks of the vampire as Zero's own salty solution had yet to pour over the rims of his eyes when he, too, sunk to the ground while drowning in misery. "My heart... My love... I continue to wander, remaining lost without you.", he muttered into the palms of his hands the moment they touched his face.

[Dante Fuilteach]

Dante pressed his palm to his face, hiding his suffering from the mortal before him. Showing this much emotion was unseemly for a vampire of his heritage and rank. How disgraced he would be if his father ever saw him this way! But no... Sanguini would not see him. He would continue to hide from him. Let the old fool suffer, he deserved it! He hadn't sent the letters! Most likely he had burned them, and how karma had repaid him for his act of arson... by burning his only son! Now he understood why Lu hadn't wanted to speak of Sebastian. He was long gone, possibly back to his family's vineyard, and he had left them both alone and bereft with the loss of him. For the second time that night, Dante felt a fleeting moment of empathy for another creature. He did hope it wasn't going to become a habit.

He turned his head sideways to look at Zero, feeling for the first time since he had left Sebastian's side, that he was in the presence of someone who completely understood him. "You are mortal, Zero. It is both your blessing and your curse that you will be able to move on one day, but for we vampires... our pain endures throughout all the ages we live, and it corrupts us, twists us, leaves us as monstrous as the creature I call Father. One day, you will be a beautiful star in another's night sky. I will bear the memory of his love like a wound, until it festers and poisons me. That is the price we pay, and we must pay dearly for immortality; one has to die several times while one is still alive."

He stood, brushed himself off, and walked over to the young man. He was the picture of misery, the same state Dante was now in internally, and he took pity on him. "You look as though you haven't eaten in weeks, Zero. Come. Let me buy you a meal, and give you somewhere to sleep for the night. You loved him when he needed it most, and I feel I owe you a debt for that. We can be two creatures of misery in private, without all of Hogsmeade to watch us." Dante's time as a scarred pariah had certainly changed him. Never before would he have made such an offer to a mortal who wasn't a lover or a victim. Tonight, he made the offer as a genuine one, his intentions pure. How the world would be amazed if they knew of this change!