A Walking Calamity Adorned With Flowers and Lace

Rouge Roulette panted heavily, sweat dripping from her face. She cracked a tired grin and chuckled as her opponent remained unfazed and composed. “W-Wow,” she sputtered. “You sure are full of energy, aren’t you?”

Dorothy stood idly before her without any sign of sweat. She scratched her head and shrugged. “I’ve been exercising for a bit, I suppose.”

“What the hell’s kind of exercise did ya have?!”

“Uhm… gardening?”

Rouge blinked.

Dorothy scratched at her jawline, recollecting her memories. “Yeah, I guess I’ve had some exercise repositioning trees around my garden. Carrying more than two trees at a time is kind of difficult.”

“Oi, oi, she’s joking, right?” a man whispered, “Who the hell simply ‘reposition’ trees?”

“That pipsqueak ain’t got no muscles,” another one whispered. “She’s clearly bluffing.”

“Fools!” someone else hissed. “Did you not see her throw our men like ragdolls?!”

“Boo! Stop bluffing!”

Someone threw a tomato at Dorothy, but she swiftly dodged it.

Rouge swallowed and nervously grinned. “Wh-Whatever you say, D-Dorothy,” she stammered, still breathing heavily. She dropped her accordion and pulled out a magician’s wand. “But I… I’m still not done! Hah! Well done, darling! You’ve proven your worthiness! It’s about time that I get serious! Prepare yourself!”

With a flick of the wand, the accordion beneath her and a few festive props from her suitcase floated, and with a heavier swing, the objects soared after Dorothy. The masked lady brandished her shovel and blocked each shot, being careful not to cause too much damage to any of her belongings.

“Oi, lass, don’t be boring! Fight back!”

“Stop dodging already!”

“If you can’t fight, leave the stage!”

The crowd continued to boo louder and louder, throwing tomatoes at Dorothy. She couldn’t help but spare a moment to glance at the crowd.

A glimpse of a silhouette speeding at the corner of her eye was all it took to draw the rest of her focus away. Dorothy turned to the silhouette, watching it exit the hall through a door. She worriedly glanced around for her brother, finding him dragging a man on the floor by his ankles.

“Hey, eyes on me!” Rouge hollered.

“Huh?” Dorothy whipped back on stage, only to face a whole red tomato head-on, drenching her mask entirely. As its juices soaked through the crack, Dorothy jolted and dropped the shovel while her mask surged with static, her sockets flashing pure red. She stepped back and clutched her head, accidentally locking gazes with her clothes stained with tomatoes.

Rouge pressed a button, and red static surged through the accordion’s bellows. With a swing, she whipped the instrument’s blunt end toward her dazed partner.

Fo—et. F-F-For—get. Forget. Fo—For—get—

An old memory flashed before Dorothy’s eyes.

It was a memory of Horace, with his arm horribly bleeding, yelling at her father.

“You! You damn vampire! I don’t know what’s your true purpose here, but mark my words, if you or your children dare to ever harm Lady Maribel, you will regret it! I’ll make sure you vampires will experience a living hell. Mark my words, this is my vow to you!”

Dorothy screamed in pure panic and aggressively bashed the accordion into the floorboards with a swing of a fist, destroying the instrument, the stage, and the floor beneath it with a ground-breaking crash. Scraps of wood bursted and flew overhead, forcing everyone to flinch and look away.

The music ended, the lights flickered, and the crowd stopped booing and throwing tomatoes. Rouge and the audience dropped their jaws in astonishment and said nothing more.

“O-Oh…” Dorothy stepped backward, clutching her mask and shaking her head. “I… I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to…”

Rouge blinked at the pile of wood scraps, crushed tomatoes, and metal, scratching her head. “Well, that instrument wasn’t in such good condition to begin with anyway,” she muttered with a shrug. She looked back up at her dance partner, who twitched and continued to step away with her head hung low.

She glanced at the murmuring audience next, and with a tip of her mini hat, she cleared her throat and gestured to the crowd with a wave of her hand. “Thanks for coming, folks, but the show’s over! Now shoo!”

With a hesitant, pitiful, and confusing round of applause, the audience dispersed and walked away, entirely forgetting about chasing after Horace’s trinket.

Rouge picked up the copper shovel and offered it to Dorothy. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize it would scare you that badly,” she said. “You okay?”

Dorothy stared at the shovel before turning around. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Hey, it’s totally fine! There’s no need to be so upset. This stage almost always gets destroyed because of my terrible luck.” Rouge tried reaching for her shoulder. “Did you know? I almost burned down the tavern the last time I performed here…”

“Give the shovel back to Horace,” Dorothy murmured.

“Eh? Why?” She blinked down at the trinket and back up, only to find herself alone on a broken stage. She gazed around with a frown before begrudgingly exiting the stage last, making her way toward Horace’s office and knocking on his door.

“Come in,” said Horace.

Rouge stepped in and tipped her hat. “Pardon the intru… sion…” Her eyes fell onto a strange figurine with an overwhelmingly tall middle finger, high enough to almost reach the chandelier. “Oh my stars, what the hell is that?”

“Ah, don’t concern yourselves over it,” said Horace. “So, who brought you here?”

“Oh, it was Dorothy,” she said, raising the shovel. “She said I should give this back to you.”

Horace rubbed his chin. “I see,” he murmured. “Miss Rouge Roulette, may I ask a sudden question?”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Do you perhaps bear any ill will against me?”

“What? No, why would I?”

A second later, the figurine’s middle finger shrunk at an alarming speed, knocking itself over and blowing itself up on the spot.

“Oh,” said all four present witnesses.

Rouge jumped and gaped at Clover and Ren standing in the shadows. “Oh bloody hell! I didn’t realize you two were… th-there…” Her eyes trailed toward the piles of bodies hidden behind them, and she gradually turned pale. “Eh…?”

“Hehe, sorry, m’lady.” Ren tipped his top hat.

“Don’t mind us,” said Clover.

Horace frowned and slid a white handkerchief over the figurine as if it was a corpse. “Oh, poor thing. It had done its best,” he said, shaking his head.

Clover approached the lady and extended a hand. “May I see that?” he asked.

“Uh, sure,” said Rouge, handing it over.

He inspected the shovel until he found a discreet switch between the grip and handle, flicking it. The shovel reshaped into Dorothy’s figure before everyone’s eyes, gleaming pridefully under the chandelier’s light.

Clover placed it back on Horace's shelf and picked out an intricate whiskey bottle. “As promised, here’s the reward,” he said, offering it to her.

Rouge blinked down at the whiskey, frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… don’t drink,” she said.

“Oh? Are you a vampire?”

“No, I’m human. I just don’t like drinking.”

The other three exchanged glances. Horace faced her with a reassuring smile. “Then, what would you like for a reward?” he asked.

“Reward? Oh geez, I don’t know. I only wanted to return the stuff.”

Horace chuckled. “I see, but I still wish to reward you for such a noble thought. At the very least, how about some free coupons for my restaurant?”

Rouge’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and she couldn’t help but drool. “Free food coupons?! Hell yeah! Can’t say no to that!”

“Haha, very well.” Horace slid a drawer open, pulled ten slips of coupons out, and offered them to her, who gratefully accepted them with anticipation.

“Thanks!” said Rouge, tipping her hat.

“Thank you as well. By the way, why did you decide to bring Dorothy into your performance?”

“Hm? She got herself on stage. That’s asking for a show, and tonight’s spotlights were supposed to be for me, right?” She stretched a smug grin. “I saw her wrecking up the whole place, so I couldn’t simply watch and let her destroy the stage before I could perform!”

Horace chuckled. “I see,” he said, nodding. “Thank you for helping her.”

“Eh? But I accidentally scared her into breaking the stage though.”

“Yes, that was unexpected, but rest assured, you are both forgiven.”

“Oh, okay. Hope you can tell her that too.” She tipped her head and spun her heels. “Well, if that’s all, then I’ll be off!”

“Have a good evening then, Miss Rouge,” said Horace, waving a hand as she hummed and skipped out, the door closing behind her.

Ren tossed a glance at the mastermind. “You knew she’d interfere, did you?” he asked.

Horace smiled. “A certain individual told me how much that street performer would always take the opportunity to steal the spotlight,” he said, chuckling. “She used to talk about all the shows and performers she encountered in her adventures, and I happened to remember them.”

“...I see,” Ren murmured, stroking his mustache. “So that’s why you invited her to perform tonight? You knew she liked her?”

“Haha, precisely.”

“Who?” asked Clover.

The two waved his question away as the door knocked.

“Come in,” said Horace.

Dorothy shyly stepped inside, slowly approaching Horace’s desk with her gaze glued to the floor.

“Dorothy? What’s wrong?” asked Horace.

“Uhm, sorry…” Dorothy fidgeted her thumbs. “I… accidentally destroyed the stage.”

“Yeah, we know,” said Ren. “It was so loud we heard it all the way here.”

“Are you okay, Dorothy?” asked Clover, approaching her.

Dorothy stepped back and nodded. “I-I’m fine! I’m… uhm, I’m just a little tired…”

“I understand,” said Horace. “I’m sorry I made you go through all that ordeal. In fact, I was planning to send you both off to bed.” He pulled a drawer and picked up two sets of keys. “I am truly grateful for all your help, Dorothy, Clover. You both deserve a good reset tonight.”

The Vamier siblings stared at the keys and back at Horace.

“Really? We can go?” asked Dorothy.

“Certainly. You both did more than enough for us tonight.”

“What about these guys?” asked Clover, pointing a thumb at the pile of suspects.

“No need to worry,” said Ren. “I will deal with them.”

The siblings exchanged glances with the men. Certainly, they had no other reason to stay now that they completed their mission. Thus, with a nod and a bow, the two turned around.

“Oh, Dorothy?”

She glanced over her shoulders.

Horace stretched a soft smile. “I just wanted to extend my gratitude,” he said. “This plan wouldn't have succeeded if it wasn't for you. Your strength is truly a blessing, and I'm glad Ren brought you here.”

“Oh, I…” She timidly nodded and faced forward. “I’m glad to help.”

Horace chuckled and turned to the Co-leader. “Clover, you’re a good brother. Please continue to take good care of her, alright?”

With a shy nod, Clover left the room and walked with Dorothy as they climbed up the staircases and onto the residential floor. The siblings walked through the hallway in silence, and once they found their rooms, the two faced each other.

“Are you really alright?” asked Clover. “You don’t look well.”

Dorothy nodded. “Yeah, I-I’m fine,” she mumbled. “I think… I think I’ll just sleep.” She unlocked the door and opened it. Before she entered, she glanced at her brother one last time. “You better not snitch while I’m out,” she said.

Clover crossed his arms. “I don’t remember making a promise,” he said.

“I won’t talk to you for a whole month if you do!”

He frowned. “What kind of threat is that?”

“Hmph!” Dorothy stepped inside and snapped her door shut.

Clover could only stare at her door, stunned. He turned back to the hallway next, observing the staircase for a long moment. After having some second thoughts, he sighed and shook his head as he pulled out his key, unlocked his room, and stepped inside.

It was such a harmless threat, but the thought of Dorothy shunning him itched him for some reason.

…Fine then. She won tonight.

✦☆✦

“Ren, are you falling asleep?” asked Horace.

“Uwah?” Ren jerked his shoulders and straightened his back. He cleared his throat and readjusted his mustache. “O-Of course, not! What’s up?”

Horace frowned and glanced at the grandfather clock that struck midnight. “Knowing Clover, he should’ve returned to discuss matters after dropping off his sister, but he didn’t come back at all,” he said.

“Ah, is that so? Then I should go ahead and interrogate these guys, yeah?”

“Now hold on just a moment.” Horace squinted. “Ren, are you hiding something from me?”

“Eh? Wh-What do you mean?”

“Did you know, whenever Clover lies, he’d break eye contact?” Horace trailed a finger on his desk. “And I distinctly remember his siblings forgetting their vampire identities, and yet, Dorothy didn’t question it during our discussion.”

Ren whistled as he looked away, sweat trailing down his face.

“Ren, what is going on in the mansion?”

He nervously cleared his throat. “I believe you promised to exclude yourself from their affairs, no?”

“But that doesn’t mean I can't know what's happening.” Horace crossed his arms. “Besides, Clover already broke his promise by lying to me. Thus, I have the right to know.”

“Good point.” Ren stroked his mustache, pondering to himself before nodding with a huff. “I guess now’s the best time to reveal the surprise then.” Ren grinned and twirled his cane. “My kids are having a pretty fun workout routine with the Vamiers at Ortrone’s mansion.”

Horace sternly glared. “Ren, I don’t tolerate such jokes. Please tell me the truth.”

“For the first time, I’m glad to say it's not a joke.”

Horace scowled. “What do you mean? Your kids? You mean Cherry and Charlie? They’re—”

“Alive. My kids are breathing as we speak.” Ren’s expression gradually grew calm and serene, his crimson eyes glinting. “This whole time, Solomon was looking after them.”

For a long while, only the grandfather clock’s ticks made noise.

Horace leaned back on his seat, eyes wide open. “Then, that masked boy who was always with him… He was Charlie?”

Ren responded with a smirk.

Horace stammered his words, shaking his head. “No, that’s a lie,” he sputtered. “I saw them dead. I saw them burnt to ashes!”

“But I rescued them right on time.”

“You? You did? Hah, Ren, why did you keep it from me?”

“I was just waiting for the perfect time,” he said, shrugging. “Trust me, I wanted to tell you the truth so damn badly since the very beginning, but I had a reason not to.” He dropped his smile as he paced around the room, finally explaining the full truth to Horace.

Minutes passed as Horace digested the truth, staring at the responsible man distraughtly all the while. “Ren, you’re a horrible man,” he muttered. “No wonder all your friends left you.”

The mastermind chuckled. “I’ve been called worse.”

Horace shook his head and stood up from his seat. “If what you said is true, then take me to Cherry right this instant,” he demanded.

“Now?” Ren glanced at the clock. “She might be asleep.”

“I don’t have to talk to her,” said Horace, his words seeping with strong emotions. “I only want to see her alive with my own eyes.”

Ren grinned and twirled his cane, emitting glowing streaks of scarlet light by his feet. “If my leader commands it, then it shall be done. Let’s go see her.”

He promptly slammed his cane, and the two—as well as the pile of suspects—vanished from the scene.