Crimson Immoderation Part 29: Step Three

Vlad’s plan sucked.

It wasn’t for any particular flaw that would deny them the desired outcome. Neo was perfectly fine admitting that it was actually thievery 101. The vault was designed in such a way that not just getting in was difficult, knowing there was an in to be gotten was impossible. Three-ish people with a key and no indication that there was even an appropriate lock for it. No one knew this place was down here. No one knew where the entrance was. If Ozpin could assume perfect confidence of the people he entrusted with keys, he could sit in smug security in his tower knowing this place was perfectly safe.

That definitely raised a question of how Vlad knew this place was here but Neo didn’t really care for details like that. He knew, and because of that this place was wide open to them. Their way out the only problem and that was what they had spent over a week working on. All well and good. Secure an exit strategy. Good stuff. Common sense.

No, the plan didn’t suck because it wouldn’t work. The plan sucked because their exit strategy meant Neo was stuck in the damn vault the whole time they were setting it up! She was bored! And lonely! And she hadn’t gotten any fresh tasty treats in days! When she got out of here she was going to superglue her lips to that jerk’s cock and woe betide him if he complained! She needed her fix, dammit!

A quiet bell sounded, echoing down the entire length of the empty hallway. Neo’s eyes widened. It wasn’t the time for Emerald to come down with supplies for hours yet. She scampered from where she was sat resting against the wall, activated her semblance to make it appear everything was perfectly normal, the area around the almost-corpse exactly as whoever was coming would expect it to be.

She watched from behind her looking-glass illusions as two figures approached. Ozpin and Goodwitch. They gave no indication they had seen her, or that anything was amiss.

Goodwitch approached the panel on the machine, read the display. “Her vital signs are still stable. No improvement, but at least there’s no sign her condition might deteriorate.”

“A small mercy I’m afraid,” Ozpin nodded. “We can only hope things remain this way until James arrives with the transfer device.”

“If she had only listened to us,” the woman lamented. “We could have protected her. Prepared her.”

“The young will ever be wilful, doing what they believe is best no matter what anyone might say otherwise. The best we can do is guide and protect them from their poor decisions. It was my failure to do so that led to this.”

The blonde grimaced, turning to hide it from her employer. “Is there nothing else we could do?”

“With only half of her soul, there is nothing. What she has is barely enough to keep her alive. All we can do now is make sure her loss doesn’t lead to disaster.”

“... Yes. You’re right, of course.”

Neo continued to watch the two as they checked over the machine and the girl one last time before they left. Silently begging them to not take one too many steps in her direction and discover a four and a half foot woman and an enormous pile of dirt empty ice cream tubs in the corner. She only let out the breath she was holding when she heard the ding of the elevator again.

This job sucked!

-(-)-

Today’s the day!

I shouldn’t be excited about it. To tell the truth I’m not. This is a plan that pretty solidly places me outside of the certified good guy category. Not purely morally. That ship kind of sailed with how I handled Auburn and Ilia. Reputationally. There are ways I should be going about this if I want to maintain a reputation of being on the ‘light side’ so to speak. Going to Ozpin, having Cinder and pals legitimately turn their coats and do things that way. But that way held far more risk that I lose something I’m unwilling to lose. There are examples you could choose that imply Ozpin might be willing to let bygones be bygones if everything works out in the end. Or even if they don’t. Raven still baffles me. Bitch should’ve been put down a long time ago.

I’m digressing. The point is you could argue Ozpin might be on board with the local villains switching sides. But even then it’s an argument. Far from a sure thing. Would he ever be able to trust someone who was at one point directly Salem’s pawn? If the answer is no, Cinder is gone. And that’s just Ozpin. Glynda would be another matter entirely. And the effect Ironwood can have. No argument can be made for him. He would have no tolerance for former conspirators to be near anyone in his orbit. And just like that, Winter is gone. No. Unacceptable. Cinder, Glynda, Winter, they’re mine.

... Little possessive. But I’m not going to pretend that’s not how I think of them. Hell, at this point Cinder would probably agree.

Anyway. Yes. With Cinder’s unknown time limit before she would have to go through amputation, it’s a choice between potentially losing at least three of my women to save Amber, rescuing Amber ourselves and alienating some movers and shakers down the line... Or chopping off Cinder’s left arm (if that would even work). So I’m choosing the one that lets me solve the immediate problem, kick the others down the road and hopefully gives me time to bring everyone I want more securely to my side. Become powerful enough that they can’t decide I’m not worth the trouble.

Winter is the most important. She arrives with Ironwood in a week. I have no sway over her beyond genuine feelings and her coming as part of Weiss’ package deal. When she gets here I need to fuck her into a sex coma. Cinder as noted is already entirely under my thumb. And Glynda...

Well speaking of Glynda, it’s time for our biweekly training session. Honestly something that has become the highlight of my week. It always ends in the best way.

As I arrive Glynda is already there. She looks like she was doing nothing but wait for me until I arrived, her attention wholly taken by me the instant the doors open. “Mister Dracul.” She tries for cool and authoritative. The quaver in her voice betrays her.

But I don’t comment on it. “Professor. Are you ready for me?”

“Yes,” she insists more than confirms, sending the chair she leapt from on my arrival to a corner of the room with her crop. “You still wish to train in combat using your berserker state?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been insistent on this ever since you first gained a small amount of control,” she accuses, accurately, “You understand your time would be better spent more firmly securing dominion over that state before something so complex? Why the rush?”

I thought that would have been obvious but, “I wish to be able to use it during the tournament.”

“For the Vytal Festival?” she clarifies needlessly. Her frown tells me she grasps my motives quickly enough from that. “You hope to challenge the propaganda that was levelled against you. You understand that such things will quickly fade from memory if you let them.”

“Yes,” I acknowledge, “The words spoken, the lies spread will fade from memory. Because I will fade from memory. My people will forget me except as a measuring stick for how bad things could have been under a monster like me. Brought up every time that buffoon makes some disastrous decision or another. I will not let my family’s contributions to Wallachia be forgotten so they can burn me in effigy!” ... Oops. “Sorry. It’s something I’ve avoided thinking about for some time,” mostly due to having nearer-term concerns to deal with, “It all just sort of came back at once.”

She hums, not at all impressed by my outburst by the look of her. Though it’s the look she wears most of the time. “You would be better served talking to Professor Ozpin about that sort of thing if you want genuine advice. Though he would likely tell you to let the past lie and move on with your life.”

Of course he would. Lien to lemons he’s the one who struck down the noble titles in one of his past lives. Democratic incompetence as favourable compared to inherited capability. “That’s advice I would reject out of hand.”

“I thought as much,” she admits easily with a light shrug. Good to see her nerves have evened out a little. “I can’t advise you on how one should act in your position,” with a crack she strikes her crop and her outer clothing neatly falls away leaving her in her lingerie, “But if becoming more capable with your semblance is your goal, with that I can assist you.” She discards her crop, letting it roll to the edge of the room out of the way. I hold out my hand, ready to drain her but she shakes her head. “No. If you want to train how to fight with it, then you will train how to fight with it. No more free lunches. If you want my energy, you’ll need to take it.”

“You must be the harshest teacher in this school by far,” I can’t help but laugh, “I can’t help but love you for it.”

She blinks. “What?”

I take advantage of her distraction. Or... At least I try to. She isn’t the combat instructor for nothing. Even flat-footed and distracted she’s still more than capable for holding me off. Her semblance without her weapon is nowhere near capable of her usual feats but certainly enough to redirect my movements in a similar way to how Pyrrha fights. Just enough to keep my hands off of her. She isn’t fighting me, she’s defending against me. Only doing what she has to for the sake of keeping me at bay.

It takes me... A long time. I couldn’t really calculate it without looking at a clock and that’s not where my head is at right now. I have to take breaks on occasion to get my breath back, leading to comments about my poor endurance in a fight. She isn’t wrong. I statted myself out that way in the beginning, figuring I could rely on my semblance to top myself up if a fight went on too long. I won’t complain at a chance to fix that but it isn’t what this training is supposed to be about.

When I finally manage to get a hold of her she lets me hold on. I drain. And I drain and I drain until I’m back to full and then some. The instant she feels the change overcome me, the tone of the spar quickly changes. My hold is broken and I’m pushed away.

When she actively attacks me I’m not expecting it but my instincts are eager to give an appropriate response. The best I can manage as I fight to rein in my own wilder instincts is to tactically guide them as my fighting becomes less streamlined, more animalistic, but also more powerful. Steps become stomps. Swings become vicious swipes. In raw speed I outpace Glynda, in strength it isn’t even a contest. All the while though she moves better than me, with experience to know how to avoid every attack.

The fury fades, my instincts recede, and I take a settling breath.

“If you were using your weapon,” Glynda informs me, “You would have used it like a large club. Just a large object with which to bludgeon me. As you are now, your instincts override your good sense. Further,” she grimaces, “If you want to use this aspect of your semblance in the tournament, you cannot fight like that. Your reputation will not be salvaged by audiences across Remnant watching you brawl like an Ursa.”

I can’t help but wince at that. “Noted.”

We continue for a second round. And then a third. Then our training draws to a close. I smile eagerly as I draw closer to her, hand already reaching behind her back for the clasp on her lacy black bra when she puts her own hand to my arm. “Mister Dracul–”

“Fairly certain I told you to call me Vlad in moments like this,” I speak lowly, the words just loud enough to catch in her ear.

“... Vlad,” she corrects hesitantly, “There is something you should be made aware of.”

“Which is?”

“I missed my... Last week was supposed to be my time of the month,” she admits with surprising amounts of bashfulness. “I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday.” Her eyes return to me and she frowns. “Stop grinning like that.”

“Glynda, why would I ever.”

“I don’t care if this is your fetish, Mister Dracul! This is a serious issue!”

“I am taking it entirely seriously, Glynda,” I assure her, still grinning like an idiot, “And I promise you I couldn’t be happier.”

“Don’t be!” she snaps, the sharp words somewhat breaking her composure. “I’m not sure if I’ll keep it.”

“Keep it.” The demand, the command is out of my mouth before I can even think about it. Damn it I didn’t want to say that. “I mean, I think you, we, should keep it.”

“That’s the impulsiveness of youth talking,” she chides me. “I would be a terrible mother. And to have the child of a student...”

“You would be a strict mother,” I correct her. “That isn’t the same thing. As for me being your student, we’re both adults. What, do you think you took advantage of me?”

“Of course not, but–”

“Did you think of baby names like I asked?” She looks away. I pull her towards me. “What are they?”

“... Dai,” she admits, one hand going to her belly, “For a boy. Hila for a girl.”

“You see?” I whisper to her, “We both want this. I’m not saying it will be simple, but it will be worth it.”

“Vlad...”

What happens next isn’t the feverish rutting we usually engage in. I don’t drain her first. Don’t become the animal she fantasises about. Instead I joyfully make love to the beautiful woman now carrying my child. Cherishing every inch of her, every touch and taste of her, every sound escaping her as our bodies meet and unite. Her body welcomes me back with comfort and satisfaction. Her arms wrapped around me to hold me close as I claim her as mine. Just the once but once is all we need. Glynda isn’t some smitten schoolgirl. She is a woman who knows what she wants.

And now what she wants is me. Not just as a satisfying lay, but as the father of her child. Or even children.

-(-)-

My time with Glynda wasn’t supposed to end like that. We decided on enacting the plan today for a specific reason. My Wednesday training session with Glynda meant I could drain her dry, fully exhaust her with a marathon sex session. Thus she would be far less able to act once the abduction is discovered. Instead I tenderly made love to her once before we parted ways for the evening.

I got lost in the emotion of the moment. I’m going to be a father and that honestly hit me harder than I thought it would. And with how happy Glynda was when we parted ways.

I sigh as we ride the elevator down. I’m going to ruin her good day.

“Something wrong, Vlad?” Cinder asks me.

She isn’t asking for my sake. She’s nervous as all hell and has good reason to be. “No. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Hmph. Of course it is.”

The elevator dings and we step out, not wasting time as we stride down the long and ostentatious empty hallway. Neo isn’t there as we reach the end but then suddenly is as the illusion shatters. 

Even taking the piss like that she isn’t smiling as she looks at me. “Yes, yes, I know. As much as you want when we’re free and clear.”

She nods firmly with an accusatory look as if to say ‘you better’.

“So this is the girl you need so badly,” Cinder observes. “She didn’t seem like much when we met, inherited mystical powers aside. Are you sure you can’t simply take what you want from her and be done with it? Ozpin’s cabal will hunt her.”

“Even if I were willing to do that which I’m very much not,” she gives me a look and yes I know, woman. Hell of a line in the sand given some of the things I’ve done but it’s my line, damn it. “She doesn’t deserve any of what will happen to her if we leave her here. And if we can bring her onto our side–”

“Yes yes, fine. Fine,” the femme-fatale stalls my words, having heard enough. “We will do things your way.” She steps forward, giving one last unimpressed look at the girl in the pod from close up.

“Our exit?” I ask Neo. She points up behind a pillar and obscured by shadows. “Wonderful. I suppose it’s... Hm.” A sudden last thought strikes me. Activating my fire powers I scorch a small line of fire along the floor, all the way from under the elevator to the pod.

“And what was that in aid of?” Cinder asks, only half looking at me.

“I don’t know and neither will they. But they’ll waste plenty of time trying to figure it out. Are you ready to do this?”

“No.” Even saying so, she offers me her left hand. Neo pops open the pod. The lid of it doesn’t server a purpose beyond keeping her in a sterile environment. Nothing will happen until the sensors on her are tampered with. It’s a fairly standard machine for intensive care patients, though I imagine when they bring in the fancy Atlas tech thing for aura transfers that will by no means be as simple.

“Hand on her,” I tell her.

Cinder sighs. “Do you really believe this will matter?” she asks as she puts her hand on the other woman’s shoulder.

“My education didn’t cover soul magic unfortunately. We’re all flying by the seat of our pants. Even so,” I take her left hand, thread my fingers through hers. She looks at me with... Some level of appreciation and nods.

And I drain.

She breathes as steadily as she can.

And I drain.

Her brow furrows. Her teeth clench.

And I drain.

I can see the black creature of Grimm writing in pain under her skin.

And I drain.

Tears prick at her eyes, her whole body tenses.

She can’t hold it in anymore. A long, guttural scream overtakes her body from the pain of the Grimm ravaging her arm during its slow destruction. Her knees drop and I go down with her, still clasping her hand as her fingers alternate between a crushing grip and a feeble cling. Mercifully, it doesn’t last much longer than that, the black mist of the Grimm escaping from the open wounds in her arm.

Her breathing is ragged, her arm bleeding from multiple places. “Sorry in advance,” my finger burns as I forcefully cauterise the wounds. By how it doesn’t make her scream I have to assume less painful than a terrified and angry Grimm in its death throes. “Are you okay? Can you move?” Shakily, she nods. “Neo, did anything happen with Amber?”

The mute girl nods frantically, pointing to the readouts for her vital signs that are going a little crazy. I look to Amber and see her eyelids flutter. I have no idea whether that means it worked but we don’t have time to waste to find out!

“Okay, Cinder goes first!” I help the dark-haired woman up into the tunnel we made. Then quickly grab the still mostly unresponsive Amber out of the pod and put her over my shoulder. Up into the tunnel. “Neo, have you got this?” She nods, following me to the tunnel entrance. “Okay, we’ll leave it to you.”

That’s what this plan hinges on. We can make an exit. We can cover it up when we leave. But we can’t make it perfect. If Glynda and Ozpin search, and they will search, they’ll find it. But. Neo can make it look perfect. So long as she can hold it there for long enough we can get out safely. For something that small her range is pretty impressive so it’s just a case of putting the false wall back in, sealing the cracks with her semblance, getting as far away as she can and then waiting. It gives Cinder, Amber and I time to completely get away and slip into the city, and then as soon as we’re out Neo can let go of the illusion and book it. Also helps that she’s the best able to lose a tail. Get into the city as one person, turn a corner and be someone entirely different. But our best chance of getting away scot free is if we move.

Which is why I’m quietly whispering encouragement to Cinder as she moves at her fastest crawl despite her injuries. We need to move and she knows it.

“Nn.”

... Shit. Now?! Really?! I’m ecstatic that she’s awake but OF ALL FUCKING TIMES?!

“Wh... What’s...” I can feel her shift in confusion on my back, then start to panic. A deep breath no no no no no no!

“Quiet!” I hiss.

She whimpers, terrified but cowed into submission by the single word.

“I’m sorry. This must be frightening for you,” I try to soothe, “But we’re in the middle of getting you away from some people who wanted to do some unpleasant things to you. I promise, you’ll be safe with us.”