𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ℂ𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ➶

𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝔼𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥: ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤

It wasn't as bad as Valentina's previous horror movie marathon. It was much, much worse. A Nightmare On Elm Street was, naturally, a nightmare to get through. The idea that you weren't safe, even in your dreams... It scared the hell out of her. Plus, Freddy Krueger was definitely nightmare-fuel.

There were others around, though, so she put up a brave front, tried to pretend that she wasn't bothered by what was going on on screen. She didn't want to look like a baby, especially around so many other older kids.

It felt like Morticia and Gomez --seated on either side of her on the couch-- were just waiting for her to crack and lean on them for support. Sure, their eyes were fixed on the movie whenever she looked at them, but she felt watched when she looked away.

She got through it in one piece, though. One wide-eyed, trembling piece. Even despite the dark ending of the film... Once the film reel was showing nothing but blanks, Gomez got up to turn off the projector.

"Who's hungry?" Tish asked the room at large.

Valentina expected everyone to file into whatever kind of dining room a venue like this offered, but --one-by-one-- the guests dispersed, laughing, chasing each other down the halls of the hotel. She couldn't think of anywhere else they could be going other than their rooms.

"Are we eating separately?" She asked as she was all but herded down the hall of the west wing, Morticia leading the way and Gomez following so close behind her that he was almost clipping her heels with every step. Maybe ghosts didn't approve of dinner parties.

"No, no. We just need to get ready first. This is a formal dinner, complete with a specific theme: Greek mythology," Morticia answered.

"Huh..." That was... Interesting. Unique to say the least. Then again, this entire vacation was an experience designed by and tailored to Morticia Frump. It was bound to be extravagant. But, still-- "I might sit this one out. I didn't pack any fancy clothes, let alone a toga."

"Oh, don't worry, we brought you something suitable." Which meant that this abduction hadn't been a spur-of-the-moment thing. Planning went into this. The only question was just how much.

She supposed she should be grateful. She hadn't packed any winter clothes --barely owned any to begin with-- but they must have filled that niche in her wardrobe. "Grateful" wasn't the right word, though. She'd been kidnapped, after all.

"Welcome to the King's Room, the Royal Suite," Morticia said as she swung open the door to their shared room.

More like the Honeymoon Suite, Valentina thought as she examined the king sized bed in the middle of the room, which someone --no doubt one of the staff-- had scattered rose petals across.

Once she had looked her fill, she turned her attention to what appeared to be a real wood-burning fireplace. She crouched down next to it, basking in its warmth. Gomez started carefully taking off his five-piece suit as Morticia rummaged through a garment bag.

"Can't you do that in the bathroom?" She asked after he was divested of his jacket, vest, and tie and started unbuttoning his dress shirt. "Have a little shame!"

"What's there to be ashamed of?" Accompanied by a wink and his signature grin. She hated how it made her face hot. A trollop, he'd called himself. An apt description.

As soon as Tish handed her her costume, she herself ducked into the attached bathroom. She purposefully lingered inside longer than she needed to in order to be one hundred percent sure that Gomez was done changing by the time she came out.

"How do I look?" With her small set of angelic wings, quiver, and bow, there was no mistake who she was supposed to be. It was fitting for her to take on the role of Eros, as his envoy, despite the difference in gender.

"Just precious, mon chou," Morticia cooed, closing the remaining distance between them to cradle Valentina's face in her hands, caressing her cheeks with her thumbs. Once again, the younger girl felt the blood rush to her head. "I knew that little white chiton would look ravishing on you."

It was little, the hem coming down to just above her knee. She was grateful for the woolen cloak she wore over it. Without it, she would have frozen.

"Who are you two supposed to be?" She asked, eyeing their matching long, black robes. Once again, she'd look jarringly different standing next to them. At least white was a better complement than pink.

"Hades and Persephone," Gomez said. "King and Queen of the Underworld." She nodded. That was a better fit than Zeus and Hera.

"You look good." The way she said it, though. Ugh... It was downright robotic. Could she get any more awkward? Nevertheless, they looked pleased with the compliment. She clearly didn't say enough nice things about them, just assuming they knew how they looked: effortlessly perfect. "Well, uh, lead the way."