The Van Leugen Chronicles - Dominion (R0NIN x Monaka21)

[Arkos]

The Van Leugen Chronicles

DOMINION

It wasn't hard to see why Charon was Van Leugen's fastest growing nightclub. Set on the glassy penthouses of a towering sky-rise, the club boasted the finest liquors, the coolest atmosphere and the most expensive equipment on the market. State-of-the-art sound systems played only the latest music while dancers raved on nanomesh hololight floors... beautiful people flirted and laughed along a sleek bar counter, generously served by a host of attendants... secluded 'VIP' lounges catered to every passing luxury of their guests... Indeed, for the young people of Van Leugen, Charon was the place to be on a Saturday midnight.

Of course, that was assuming they could get in.

Burly bouncers stood at the club's entrance, arms crossed as they inspected the long line of well-dressed hopefuls, selecting only the prettiest girls and whatever men were capable of meeting a certain monetary threshold. Judging by the rare frequency of their selections, it would seem as if the nightclub was quite the exclusive hotspot. For the majority of the cologned males lined desperately outside the doors to Charon, their patience and hopes were futile.

Two men stood out in the line, dressed in relatively formal clothing.

"This is a waste of time, Luke," the shorter of the two grumbled, rolling back a wrinkled sleeve to check his watch. "We've been in this line for three hours. Three fucking hours and we're just gonna get turned away at the door." He grumbled. He was graying at the ears and his eyelids drooped as if he were constantly half-asleep.

"You don't know that," the other protested, "besides, you heard the tip we got. Ares and Vienne are going to be here tonight." He straightened his jacket. He was clean and smooth, his face young and handsome.

The other snorted. "So?"

"So..." inflection marked his voice, "...two of the biggest contending crime bosses in Van Leugen under one roof and you don't think something could go down?" He shook his head. "We're detectives, Anders. We'd be fools not to at least try getting in here. It's our job."

Anders gave a world-weary sigh. "Luke... kid... I keep waiting for you to wise up." He rubbed at his temples. "Eight months. Eight months since you've had your detective's badge and you still haven't figured out how shit works in this city."

Luke's jaw grit. "I know perfectly well."

"Then what the hell are we doing here?"

Luke looked back at his partner, eyes ablaze. "Because I don't give a shit about 'how things work in this city', Anders. I care about the job." He pointed to the doors of Charon. "And right now, the job needs us in there."

Anders just shook his head but offered no further word of protest. He knew trying to dissuade Luke was pointless. Best to just keep his head down and try and get this over with as soon as possible.

Before long, they arrived at the front of the line. A bored-looking bouncer gave Luke a once-over and smiled slyly.

"Name?"

---

Back inside Charon, Ares sat at one of the booths near the bar. He swirled a tall glass of iced scotch in his hand, his feet lounging on the table.

"When is she supposed to be here?" he asked, his tone lazy and bored.

One of his assistants, a thin, pale boy with black hair, checked his watch. "Any minute now." He looked up at the scotch glass hesitantly. "Are you sure you want to be drinking before she arrives?"

"No," he replied with a cool smile, "but I'm equally sure that I don't want to throw away a perfectly good glass of scotch." He held the liquid up to a nearby lamp, smiling as the light refracted through the glass over his eyes. "Besides. If she's half the woman I've heard she is, I don't think a little liquor would hurt me. This is a peace meeting, after all. We're trying to be civil here." He smirked, setting his glass back on the table and resting his arms behind his head, stretching. His muscles strained against the fabric of his dress shirt, toned and well-pronounced though not bulky.

"I'm actually quite looking forward to this," Ares grinned, running a hand through his hair, "a little joust between two of the best minds in the city."

The assistant shifted. "I thought you said this was a peace meeting."

"It is," he shrugged, "but we're bosses, Aron. Alpha dogs. Jungle predators." He rolled one of his shoulders forward. "It's going to be a contest one way or another. That's just the way of things."

Aron pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Maybe she doesn't see it that way."

Ares smiled. "Maybe not." He picked up his glass once more. "But I'll be quite disappointed if that's the case..."

 

[Monaka21]

The brilliant lights of Van Leugen sped by the car window as Vienne sat cross legged in the back seat, the young man beside her lighting her cigarette. Her dark hair was done up and curled behind her, tight and prim in a vintage style, and her diamond earrings glistened in the white and orange lights outside. She wore a red blouse with wide sleeves, accentuating the modest black-pearl necklace around her neck, and a tight, black skirt that came right above her knees. It wasn’t quite the style to be going to nightclubs with, but this was the style she wore everywhere, and there wasn’t any one else to tell her otherwise.

“We might be a little late, Madam,” the chauffeur said, rather nervously.

“Don’t fret, William. A lady never hurries her steps, and if Ares doesn’t know that, he is not a man, but a boy.” Vienne took her sip out of the cigarette, puffing white smoke from her glistening red lips. She wasn’t a very young woman, perhaps in her early to mid thirties, but her demeanor of a mature woman was her alluring beauty. She took control, wherever she went.

“But Madam, he is still Ares … “

“And I am Vienne Brodeur.”

And that was the end of that discussion. In fact, the traffic didn’t loosen for a while, and the car was finally parked at the nightclub ten minutes after their promised time. She and her bodyguard ignored the line of men and women, and went around the front entrance, where there was another door by which a young woman was standing, scantily clad but somehow with purpose. She seemed to have come out only now, after a night of uninhibited passion with strangers. Looking tired, she retouched her hair while looking at her phone. Just then, she noticed Vienne approaching.

“Madam,” she said, suddenly changing her attitude from a young party girl to a more businesslike tone.

“How is it inside?” Vienne asked, as the girl guided her into the club. The place was flooded with light and loud, thumping noises, enough to be called chaos. But Vienne didn’t flinch, only looking around for the men she had business with.

“Three men, and two of our own girls are situated near the meeting place, Madam. If anything happens … they’re armed.”

Vienne nodded, a faint smile lighting her lips. “Such things would not happen. Don’t worry about that. Ares didn’t become what he is by being that reckless.”

 

[Arkos]

"You're not on the list."

"I told I wasn't," Luke grumbled, "I'm a walk-in. I have cash."

"How much?"

"One fifty."

The bouncer smirked. "I don't know who told you that you could get into a place like this on one fifty, especially on Saturday night. It's three hundred at the door."

Luke gaped. "Three hundred?"

The bouncer rolled his eyes. "Cuttin' you a deal actually. You're kinda pretty. Woulda been three fifty otherwise." He looked past Luke at Anders. "...he ain't too pretty, though. No offense."

Anders shrugged. "None taken."

Luke tried to keep a lid on his frustration. "Look, I have two hundred..."

"Three. Hundred." The bouncer shook his head. "If you don't have it, just get on outta here."

Anders laid a hand on Luke's arm. "Kid, let's go. We don't have that kind of-"

"I have a warrant," Luke's voice rang out. Anders froze. The bouncer's eyes went wide.

"...you have a what?"

"A warrant," Luke reached into his jacket and removed the paper, "to investigate this facility under reasonable suspicion that it's harboring fugitives from the law." His eyes blazed. "Signed by Judge Darius Bentley."

The bouncer perused the document. Ander's fingers dug hard into Luke's bicep.

The bouncer looked up. "You a cop?"

"What the fuck do you think?"

They locked eyes for a moment before he stepped aside. "Get the hell in."

"Thank you." He snapped the document from his hand and entered Charon with Anders in tow.

Once inside, Anders practically dragged Luke over to a corner. "What the hell are you thinking?" his teeth were grit, his face red with anger, "paying your way inside is one thing, but a warrant? A fucking warrant, Luke? You just announced to two of the biggest crime bosses in the city that there are detectives snooping around in their playground."

"It wasn't ideal," Luke admitted, "but even this is better than not getting in at all."

"It's not better at all!" Anders tried not to shout, "Luke... kid... this isn't a two-bit junkie ring you can bust with a wig and a bad accent. These are killers, kid. These are bad, bad people who will not hesitate to take you into the bathroom, blow your brains into a toilet and flush twice. They got alota money and alota guns and alota people to fuck with you." He shook his head. "This is suicide."

Slowly, Luke reached up and firmly took Ander's hands off of him. He straightened his jacket. "I know the risk, Anders, and I'm not defenseless." He nodded towards the door. "If you want to go, go. I won't hold it against you. But I'm going through with this."

He turned and walked into the strobing lights. Anders turned around and looked longingly at the exit.

"Christ... this kid is gonna get me killed."

---

Ares stood at one of the balconies overlooking the main floor, a drink still in his hand. A hundred souls writhed beneath him, drinking, smoking, dancing, injecting, kissing, moaning, fucking. He liked to watch them. Something about them fascinated him - humans giving into their desires, becoming slaves to their passions. At the center dance floor, a man with a gold ring on his left hand danced sensually with a woman that certainly wasn't his wife. Drinks were traded at the bar. Spiked. Almost all of them. The less-subtle individuals removed small syringes from their bags and shot up right there. A gentleman had a woman in his lap at one of the tables, his hands pawing at her chest and stripping down her dress in plain view of the other patrons. They were animals, all of them, and it was ecstasy. Ecstasy and chaos.

Ares sipped his drink and smiled. He thought it beautiful.

Eventually his aid got up from the booth and cleared his throat. "Ares. She's arrived."

He turned and saw her from the other side of the room. She and her escorts would have been led up to the second level where Ares was lounging - a quieter place removed from the frantic passion downstairs. There was a bar, sofas, booths and a small stage to the side where dancers performed, as well as doors leading off into private VIP rooms.

"Vienne," he smiled graciously, "I'm so pleased you could make it." He gestured to the club. "What do you think of my little pet project? A fair bit more lively than before, no?"

Ares had assumed ownership of Charon five months ago. Formerly known as 'Amber', it'd been less of a club and more of a bar/art lounge for writers and intellectuals. Needles to say, after Ares' renovations, it was attracting a very different kind of crowd.