Lords and Ladies (2.4)

Dante decides that there is no fighting back against the mighty hug of philanthropy and embraces his fate.

Literally.

“Long time no see, man,” says Ben, the musty aura of his scent and cologne flowing into Dante’s nostrils without the decency to ask permission first.  “What’ve you been up to?”

“...Stuff,” says Dante, meekly, his face squished against his favorite (that is, only) brother-in-law’s barrel chest.

“Ladies’ skirts,” clarifies Mindy.

“Mostly robots.”

“Lady robots.  And skirts.  And jeans.  And really any garment worn on the lower half of their body.”

“Oh, uh...” Ben’s voice starts, then stops. It takes the moment to charge ahead into a different subject.  “...Mindy, get in on this hug.”

Ben’s arm opens, and for one brief moment the porch lining shining through gives him hope for escape.  That hope quickly diminishes when he feels Mindy’s warm body press against his side.

The arm closes around him.  His pride forces him to resist the urge to scream.

Something reaches into his pocket.  He jumps.

Mindy snickers.

“Mindy,” he whispers.  “Your hand is on my...rear.”

“It sure is.”

Ben breaks the hug.  Mindy doesn’t take her hand out of Dante’s pocket.

“Come in, both of you.  The family was just getting ready for a big meal.”

“Oh...Uh...That sounds...” Dante searches for an appropriate, friendly word.  “Nice,” he says, with uncertainty.

“Yeah.  We have company, I guess.  Big formal dinner with another noble family.  I guess you’re just in time, ha.”

“...Ben,” says Dante.  “Will you excuse us for a minute?”

“Oh, uh, sure, sure.  I’m just going to go finish getting changed, but the rest of the family is hanging out in the courtyard.  They’d love to see you, I’m sure.”

“Thanks.  Later, man.”

As Ben hurries up a flight of stairs, Dante spins around to Mindy.

“Your family has company,” he says.

“I didn’t know.”

“This is terrible.  I’m going to ruin it.  I’m going to make an ass of myself and break a treaty,” says Dante.  “Or cause a war.  Or something.”

“Pfff, you better not,” she replies, gently jabbing him with an orange nail.  “That’s my job.  Come on, you big scaredy dragon.”

The inside of White Manor is homely and comfortable, but in a way a few scant steps above that of recently abandoned hotels.  Ornate statues and ancient preserved furniture dotted the landscape of the house.  Old, cracked paintings that have been touched up multiple times hang on nearly every wall.  The faces of old, forgotten Lady and Lord Whites seem to stare down Dante’s neck, silently judging him for not being good enough for their great-great-great-great-granddaughter.

Mindy leads him to a backdoor, out and into a large, beautiful garden.  An artificial pond sits at the middle of it, frogs croaking from within.  Behind, illuminated in the setting sun by a few well-placed tiki torches and one small campfire, sits most of the living White family.

A short, squat little tanned man stokes the fire, staring into it with a kind of detached interest.  He wears a full police uniform, no doubt for the benefit of the soon to arrive guests.  Next to him sits a tall, proud, strong woman, who more highly resembles the children.  She runs a scarred hand through short brown hair, watching her husband with a slight smirk that reminds Dante of Mindy’s.  A pale old man with a long snow-white beard sits in a lawn chair near them, peering at an unfinished page with old golden-brown eyes.  Sitting next to him, peering over his shoulder with childlike glee and holding his hand, sits a young lady the who’s size evokes that of Ben, if Ben had been much more shapely.  Her hair was black, but her facial features were most similar to Mindy’s;  you just had to increase the width and height, increase the size of the cheekbones, and make sure her skull was powerful enough to shatter a man’s head with her headbutt.  She’s a few years younger than Mindy,

In spite of this, she is one of the most elegant women Dante has ever seen.  Her hair is tied into a thick, orderly bun with a few curvy strands intentionally left hanging down.  The glossy blue lipstick was curious, but no more curious than Mindy’s orange.  She wears long but tight black dress with slits cut in about halfway down her left thigh, exposing gray pantyhose with a unique spiderweb pattern knitted in.  Silky black gloves go up two thirds of her arms.  Big, intimidating black dress heels round out the ensemble.

“Dante, you’re eye-humping my sister,” says Mindy, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, um.”

“I’m not sharing you with my sister,” she says, with a grin.  “I’ll share you with anyone, just not her.”

“Errr.”

“Better than ogling my mother, though.”

“I...Suppose so?”

“She’d probably hit you with the warhammer.”

“...Ah.”

“Writing another play, eh, old man?” says Mindy’s short, squat father, sitting back in his chair and scratching his blonde beard.  His wife’s blue eyes turn and peer through the dim light, locking with Dante and Mindy and sending shivers through the former’s spine.  She doesn’t say anything yet though.  Just waves.

“Nope,” says the grandfather, with a chuckle.  “Drafting a campaign.”

“With Evangeline?” says the father, with a frown.  “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Baby,” says the mother, jabbing the father lightly with her finger.  “Daughter incoming.  With a guest.”

The father turns, regarding their approach.  He stands up, walking forward.  The mother follows, then outpaces him and hugging her daughter, then her son-in-law.

Dante quickly realizes her dress has cleavage and begins staring at the sky.

“This is...unexpected,” says Lady White, with another very Mindy-esque smile.  Dante smiles back a bit.   “I never thought we’d see you again.”

“Eheheheheh, yeah...”

Mindy frowns at her father.  “You’re having company over, and you didn’t tell me?”

“Yes, well, we didn’t expect you to come home so early.  Or with your husband.  Truly a day of miracles,” says Lord White, dryly.  He offers a hand to Dante.  “Young man.”

“Eheh...Hello, sir,” he replies, shaking it earnestly.

“The prodigal husband returns.”

“Eheh?  Heheheh.  Heh.”

“He’ll be staying the night, by the way,” says Mindy, flatly.

Lord White gives Dante a Look, eyebrow raised.  “I expect grandchildren in precisely nine months.”

“...Eheheh.  Heheheheh?”

Lord White doesn’t laugh.

Dante gulps.

“Mindy,” says Lord White, turning his attention to his daughter.  “You and your husband should get dressed for dinner.  You’re not dressing like that.”

Mindy and Dante quickly both realizes they’re still dressed like a couple with a bad skin condition evoking lizards.

“Ah.  Er.”

“Come now, son,” says Lord White.  “You’ve only been married six years.  I think you can can stand to get dressed with her.”  He pats Dante’s shoulder.  “But first, we should introduce you to the rest of the family.”  He slides his arm around Dante, walking him towards the grandfather and the other daughter.

“Dante, this is my father, Kai White,” he says, gesturing towards the old man.  He doesn’t get up, simply shaking his hand.

“How are you doing, boy?” says Kai.

“I’m good, sir. I’ve read some of your plays.”

“Oh?”

“They were terrifying.”

Kai laughs.  “Good.”

“And this,” continues Lord White, gesturing towards the other daughter.  “Is Evangeline.”

She stands up, also shaking Dante’s hand.  “Charmed to meet you, Mister Ilucis.”

“Eva?  Good grief, you were thirteen when I last saw you!  What happened?”

“Puberty,” remarks Kai.  Dante blushes, immediately shoving all potentially lewd thoughts out the nearest ear now that he recognizes her.

“And a good diet,” says Eva, quickly.  “Exercise.  Four years of wrestling...”

“She was the school’s top wrestler four years in a row,” beams Lady White, with pride.

“Oh.  You still into horror?”

Eva opens her mouth to respond, but Kai cuts her off.  “Into horror?  She’s the city’s foremost horror author.”

Eva twirls a bit of hair in embarrassment, wrapping around her large finger.  “I...dabble.”

“...Wow.  I don’t think I’ve ever read one of your books, not yet at least.”

“She uses a pen name,” says Grandpa Kai White, laughing hoarsely.

“That’s enough, grandpa,” says Eva, gently pushing him.  He continues to laugh, as Mindy grabs Dante’s arm and pulls.

“Come on, husband,” she says, dragging him along.  “You can’t have all the White women.”

They both stop.

They look at each other.

They both begin laughing.

***

“I feel weird in this dress,” says Mindy, presently wearing a bright orange gown with matching heels.

“You look fine,” mutters Dante, in a comparatively mundane suit and green tie.

Mindy looks at him, grin and eyebrow.  “Fine, eh?”

“...Yes,” admits Dante.  “Lovely.  If a bit like an orange popsicle.”

“You can lick it later.”

“Settle down.”

“I already got you naked.”

An awkward silence ensues, as they watch a vehicle approach in the darkness.

“Touche’,” says Dante.

Dante and Mindy had quickly been drafted to greet the other guests, probably - they assumed - as a passive aggressive way of messing with both of them.  They watch as several figures get out of the parked car, making their way up the path to the house.  Dante and Mindy can hear them talking.”

“I hate this dress.  Do I have to wear it?”

“Tonight?  Yes.”

“It’s not that bad.  You look pretty.”

“I look pretty anyway!”

“...Well, I suppose...I mean...Yes, I guess.  You could consider more showers.”

“I don’t like showers.”

“But you need them.”

“But it washes the dirt off!”

“Exactly!”

“It’s bad camoflage.  And soap taste bad.”

“Girls.”

“Sorry, sister.”

“Sorry.”

“¿Esas chicas suenan familiar?” asks Mindy.

“...Yes,” whispers Dante back, attempting to remember a language he hasn’t had to speak in years.  “A little.”

As the family approaches, little triangular shapes on top of their heads - attached to headbands, it seems - are visible.

“... Muy familiar,” says Mindy.

“It can’t be.  That’s...statistically ridiculous.”

“Ridículo es mi segundo nombre.”

The family of four steps onto the porch, into the light.

Dante looks at them.

Mindy looks at them.

They look back.

One of the two short ones - this one in a dark gray dress black tiger stripes, a middle length skirt, black stockings, and black tiger striped slippers - scrunches up her face in shock.  The other short, nearly identical one looks confused, fidgeting with her red - also tiger striped - dress and squinting through unfamiliar glasses, her hair messy and gnarled.

A third one is wearing a pink dress that also has tiger stripes.  The ears are equally pink, and the dress is long and flowing, but leaves her tanned arms and pink nail exposed.

The fourth, tallest one raises an eyebrow, wearing the same outfit as she was earlier.

“Mindy?” says the first one.  “Dante,” she adds, slightly more horrified.

“Hello again, Kitty!” says Mindy, cheerfully.