Chapter Text
Enter the Baroness, May 16th, 1944 at 11:15 PM.
If only this hadn’t happened before. Leather boots clad with perfectly wound cotton laces stumbled through the West wing, damn near shaking the doors in the hall as they hammered against the floorboards of the old hotel. Exodus would have to apologize to the guests later for the noise, though that was the least of his problems as he stumbled haphazardly along. Bile burned the back of their quivering throat as choked retching escaped the young man, his neck jerking awkwardly as fire tore through his veins. This wasn't the first time. His curse had linked him to the depraved bastard who owned this place, who ran this hotel, who made the Baroness what it truly was. A graveyard that a god played dollhouse with while meddling in the lives of mortals that he has no reign over. Sickening, really.
Nothing could compare to the nausea that currently turned the world upside-down for the mortal. Spots lined the edge of his vision as he finally made it to the end of the hall. The front desk was mere meters from where he stood–the bile burned harshly as another sharp pain ripped through their jugular. Before their fragile body could cause a scene, Exodus recklessly threw themself into the nearest broom closet. Astral pains rang through them as static fangs tore holy flesh, intimately nestled in the crook of their neck. Frantic breathing echoed in the small chamber, heart pounding against their eardrums as phantom touches ghosted across their skin. A moan slipped from the back of their throat, drool dribbling senselessly as their visage slacked. Blankets of fog obscured their senses, numbing their body into a catatonic state. Spectral wisps of magic flickered around them–comforting their shaken spirit as everything melted away–and the world was taken.
All that surrounded the acolyte was the embrace of their mentor's lover, Mina Ha. A woman whom Exodus loathed with all of their soul due to her persistent use of thralling. It didn't work on the god she was shamelessly fucking four floors above. No. Instead, it affected every part of Exodus. A vessel crafted and bound to Doorman, receiving all of his human-like whims as punishment. His body wanted nothing more than to fade into the void of The Baroness, to break this curse, render himself a part of the eldritch plane that his father reaped this curse from. Bestowed unto him, all of it was his to bear.
The princess suite of The Baroness had been booked for the night. Not one of its bountiful amenities went unused. From the Giza sateen cotton sheets to the cast iron claw-footed tub. Neither these nor the refreshment cart, boding bottles of blood wine from the dark ages, had been left untouched. This was the fifth time that Mina Ha had wormed her way into the guest book, demanding refinement and refreshment from none other than The Doorman himself. More preparations had been made this time around, sweet and luxurious accommodations for her less eloquent tastes. All regal in their own regard, but much less formal than before. The sheets that spiraled up her body were a gorgeous navy blue. Darkness pressed against her pale skin, gently cradling every curve of her bodice. Doorman appeared even more desirable against the alluring blue hues. His skin shone like porcelain that had been hand-dappled with freckles; Gentle kisses from the angels above. Nothing about the man who laid before her was heavenly, but all of him was ethereal in a damning sense.
As she teetered on the edge of the bed, Mina rolled her bottom lip between her fangs nervously. The taste of his blood lingered on her lips, causing her to drool as it blossomed against her tongue. She refused to turn and face him yet, knowing that would make it all the harder to leave. She had to leave and get back to her studio. The sheer amount of work that awaited her was nearly making her dizzy. Once the thought of vanishing into the darkness of the room appeared, it was dismissed as an arm gingerly wrapped itself around her waist. She huffed, tensing as Doorman drew her close to him. Never before had he initiated any sort of physical contact after being intimate. Either curiosity or stupidity had her in a vice. Those vexing emotions allowed him to continue holding her stiff form. Though her shoulders were fixed tightly and her breathing was shallow, he didn't seem to take the hint. This was against every single survival instinct she clung to whilst being vulnerable. I don’t want you, nor do I want to end up wanting you. Her thoughts droned on like a broken record as she tried her best to relax against his body. His movements were intentionally irksome, devoted to bringing her warmth and protection despite her reluctant acceptance.
Doorman coveted her, and needed her to stay much longer than she would ever want to. If they could be banished to another realm at this moment, that is all he would wish for. His heart finally yearned for something more than the drunken deft flings that he’d been offered by so many inadequate suitors. The god wanted his lover to be none other than Mina Ha. If his temperature rose one degree more, it was because of the sheer explosion of his own inhuman experience. Emotions were tactless, slipping past him like the trail of centuries he’d forgotten in the span of a second. The adoration for her that filled his body when he held her was completely new. A scientific hypothesis to be studied and scrutinized by the god over the next week or so.
“Miss Ha,” He interrupted her thoughts, mirroring her as she tensed up again. “If I might inquire. Are you cold?”
“I’m always cold, Doorman.” She scoffed. How embarrassing of him to even ask her such a question.
“Ah. Well, I wanted to suggest something. Would you be against the suggestion of scooting a little closer? It would help with your frigid state.” He suggested. Idly, his hands secured her hips, thumbs resting inches away from her navel. A delicate heart-shaped hold that would be used to comfort a lover. She was so much smaller than him it was almost jarring as he moved with her. For once, her shoulders untensed as he pulled her body closer to him.
If this is all I have, it’s all I can accept.
A sigh of resignation left her as Mina pressed herself flush against him. Surprisingly, he was warm. Unsurprisingly, she still needed to complain. “You aren’t as warm as a human.” The words came out much more spiteful than she had intended. Her venom was always the same: unbridled and inarguable.
“Well, Miss Ha, I am not human. And you of all people know this, as you’ve known this for many years. I could try my best to provide you with fiery warmth from this vessel, but I fear that will startle you.” As he spoke, a spark of aether lit behind his eyes. Glowing azure irises flickered as he batted his eyelashes at her like a fawn. Innocent and deceptive.
Mina glowered at him as he tried to play dumb. She bared her fangs at his weakness, taking note of the shiver it sent down his spine. What an eccentric. “Startle me.” She barked a laugh at him. “Since when have you cared about startling mortals? Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” The lie pierced his tongue, threatening to spill golden ichor from his throat. For a mere moment, his tone wavered as he continued to speak. “I could never care about a mortal, immortal, whatever label you choose. All of you are the same.”
Nobody is like me. He has no idea who I am or what I’ve done to climb to these heights! What an arrogant god! I could crush him under my heel and walk a mile over his stupid fucking ego. I hate him.
Mina looked away from him, letting out another sigh. “Thank you for tonight. I needed a reminder that nobody really cares, and you just know how to drive that stake in. Don't you? You enjoy hearing me laugh, indulging yourself with my body, then toppling my mood over with one shitty statement.” She sat up from the bed, gathering her clothes with her claws. Not a care was shed as the fabric scrunched and tore, as she was blinded by her own contempt for the deity. “Sometimes I wonder why I come back to this place. So, can you tell me the next time I’ll be here? I plan to avoid it.” Both of them knew that bluff wasn't true. He allowed himself to humor her unrealistic suggestion anyway.
Doorman smiled at her, sitting up as he watched her get dressed. Beyond the anger, he could see a mixture of confusion and sadness. Mina was struggling with being loved, feeling cared for. Being at the whim of another was a weakness such an independent woman wouldn't allow herself to bare ever again. The only way he wouldn’t scare her away was by playing his role. To provide her service. It was all he would offer, until she demanded otherwise. Then, and only then, would Doorman love her in his own meaningful way.
For now, he pondered when she would arrive at the hotel again. Once he whisked the answer from the cosmos, it was delivered without hesitation. “My conscience is telling me that I will see you in two days. Does that suffice, Miss Ha?”
Mina did not answer this time. She was focused on adjusting her bralette as she listened to him carefully. A small nod was all she offered in response, understanding that he wouldn’t be corrected. She would be back in two days, by her own choice as her still beating heart led her back to him all too often. “Clean the room and make sure to fetch me proper wine on my next visit. That’s all, thanks.” She said curtly as he turned her body towards the window.
Before he could object, she opened the latch and forced the pane outwards. Smoke enveloped her form as she imploded into a cloud of red bats, fluttering rapidly into the night sky. It always irked him that she refused to use the front door. Vampires were so backwards with their urge to be seen by everyone yet perceived by none. It reminded him of an acquaintance that he’d bonded with ages ago. Yet another bloodsucking fleabag that had landed himself in front of the god, weakened and irrational. Mina was the complete opposite of him in most regards. The way that vampires preferred to leap from balconies was not one of the ways in which they differed. A searing reminder of a connection he had yet to check up on. For Mina Ha, Doorman would do better than he had before. Maybe with that rekindled memory, he would install a door from the enclosed balcony. So that Mina could fly freely without making a scene.
Before long, Exodus’ absence from his post at the blackjack table had made its rounds. With Doorman unavailable for any help until later, Francis was on his own as he searched for his coworker. Without magic or any beneficial hints from the hotel itself, the task was incredibly tedious. A pack of filterless Lucky Strikes was the only hint the poor man had to go off of. They’d been dropped, haphazardly abandoned in the west wing on the first floor. As Francis retraced his steps, he managed to avoid attracting any unwanted attention from guests. Thank the gods. Dealing with people who needed constant services from staff whilst trying to find a missing card dealer was a nightmare scenario.
“Exodus! You’re gonna piss Doorman off if you don’t set up your tables soon!” He shouted into the hall, listening to his voice echo in impossible ways.
A loud groan from the broom closet startled the man, who rushed to go see what was inside. The door fell open as soon as he turned the knob, tossing Exodus onto the carpet below. Francis jumped back, stifling a yelp as the younger sprawled prone before him, awkwardly staring up at the ceiling. Saliva coated his chin, nearly frothing against his lips as his ragged breathing broke into soft sobs. His irises were void of their oceanic blue, drained and dulled, like he had died whilst standing on two feet.
“Fucking hell…” Francis muttered, anxiety causing him to freeze in place.
The fall from the closet actually ended up knocking sense into Doorman’s acolyte, who could hear The Baroness urging him to get up. Funnily enough, the hotel bothered to warn him of the inevitable scolding that this would warrant. Color flushed across his face as he sat up, his eyes focusing as specters surrounded him. Blue fire erupted from his shoulders, forming eyes that wearily searched for danger. As he came back down to earth, he fished a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the drool from his face. Disgusted, violated, and late for work. All of the things that Exodus loved to feel when his mentor was experiencing new emotions for the very first time in his conceptual existence. Holy shit, he needed a smoke break. Despite all of that, he picked himself up off of the ground and held his hand out expectantly.
“Hand me my cigarettes. I’ll set up the tables in ten minutes.” The Lucky Strikes were returned to him with haste.
Francis, still shaken by the sight, wondered what could’ve possibly possessed his coworker. If there was a poltergeist on the loose again–oh hell–he didn’t want to think of that. “What happened to you, kid?”
Exodus rolled his eyes as he flicked open the paper carton and pulled a cigarette betwixt his fingers. “Mina Ha happened. For all of our sakes, I hope she never happens again.”
There was no way Francis would ever understand.
So be it.
Exodus briskly exited the hotel, tending to himself as he rearranged his thoughts behind the towering complex. It’s where he belonged, he remained drenched in smoke and darkness, festering in Doorman’s shadow.
Exit the Baroness May 17th, 1944 at 2:33 AM.