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Everyone loves the arrival of a new Hunter, but none so much as Antonio. The workload is spread even more thinly than before, meaning he gets longer breaks in between games. Not that he ever gets to properly rest for too long, of course; the manor sees to that. But a wider Hunter pool means his number is called a bit less often.
Even more exciting this time is that the newest arrival is a fellow musician. The Opera Singer, none other than the Sangria, no less! Oh, how he wished to play for her, even just once…but her rise to fame had taken place during his arrangement in the palace, and by the time he’d escaped she’d vanished in an opera house fire. He’s not at all surprised she’s turned up here, though; several Hunters here are the stuff of legends. And no primadonna is as legendary as la fenice herself.
He finds her in the foyer, the initial welcoming crowd thinning out by the time he arrives. It does take him some time to actually get to her - she’s notable enough to get the Photographer talking, and once he gets going he never shuts up. But when he finally does, Antonio makes his move. He strides into view, spreading his arms as he bows. “Buonasera! What an honor it is to be in the presence of a primadonna such as yourself!”
As hoped, Sangria laughs before offering a less exaggerated bow of her own. “The pleasure is all mine,” she says, her voice giving Antonio pause. He isn’t sure what sort of voice to expect from such a renowned diva, but this certainly isn’t it. It goes beyond just raspy, sounding almost strained, as though her vocal chords have been damaged. Not a surprise if she’d met her “end” suffocating on smoke, really…either way, he won’t comment on it. “I take it you’ve already heard of me?”
“Indeed I have…word travels fast here, but you are an exception. I’m well aware of the great names within the musical world…even if I’ve not played in some time.
“You’re a musician, too?”
“Yes! A violinist by trade. Antonio is my name…Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” It’s meant to be teasing - he hasn’t been active much since the palace, younger stars may not know him.
But Sangria’s demeanor changes, and even Antonio can feel a shift in the air. The Opera Singer’s face displays a strange emotion, almost as though she’s recalled something. She confirms it immediately. “Yes. I have.” After a pause, she continues. “...a shame we didn’t get the chance to perform on the same stage.”
She’s trying to save face, and Antonio will follow suit - though he won’t forget her initial reaction. “Yes…but we can certainly get that chance here! Has anyone told you how things work around the manor?”
“Vaguely. I know we are called ‘Hunters’ in a ‘game,’ but that’s all I know. Miss Claude was going to explain that all to me.” Sangria gestures to the left, where the Sculptor sits conversing with the Night Watch. Her eyes keep wandering to Sangria as she does…Antonio is clearly keeping her waiting.
Raising his hands up, Antonio chuckles. “I won’t keep you longer than I have. I do hope our chance to collaborate comes soon.”
“Yes…as do I.” There’s a deeper meaning in her words, one Antonio can’t place yet. But as Galatea moves in, Antonio gets the hint and sees himself out. Something strange is going on with Sangria, and he’ll need to find out what.
—
It doesn’t take long for Sangria to make a name for herself. Word of her arrival spread quickly, but word of her hunting approach overtook the entire manor overnight. A Hunter’s first few matches are always going to be rough - Antonio had needed about three before he actually eliminated a Survivor on his own. And even then, he still has to rely on him in order to do any real damage…hunting is truly a thankless thing.
But in her debut, Sangria had managed to do the unthinkable: all four Survivors were eliminated in a record amount of time. As if that wasn’t enough, she was able to maintain that perfect streak for some time until the Puppeteer outwitted her.
“The puppet looked like him at the time,” Sangria says, taking a sip of her martini. She’s seated near the parlor wall, chatting with Mary about it afterwards. Perched on his usual spot at the bar, Antonio tries to listen in as he drinks. “I thought I had it.”
“Oh no, dear. That’s the Puppeteer’s favorite trick!” Mary shakes her head. “He uses that horrible little thing to avoid attacks. He can only tolerate it for so long, though…you’re better off waiting it out.”
The Opera Singer purses her lips. “I usually don’t have to wait. Survivors don’t tend to last for long.”
“Not against you they don’t!” Unable to resist, Antonio pipes up, inserting himself into the conversation as he swivels on his barstool. “You’ve changed the game, signora. It’s to the point where Survivors are relieved when they realize it’s not you playing Hunter.”
“Are you sure they’re not just relieved to know it’s you they’re facing instead?” Mary winks, sipping her champagne innocuously. “But he is right. You’re a natural at Hunting, dear.”
“It’s only thanks to My Lady that I’m this formidable.” Sangria lowers her gaze, humility clear in her demeanor. Quite unnatural for a diva to be so humble, but it can be a breath of fresh air compared to the usual ego performers tout. But it’s what Sangria’s said that’s really got Antonio intrigued.
“‘Your Lady’? Is that a patron of yours? A sponsor, perhaps?” The Violinist leans in, grinning from ear to ear. A bit overzealous, perhaps, but this is what he’s been wanting to know!
“...you could say that.” Sangria polishes off her drink, then turns in her own seat to face Antonio directly. He feels a familiar chill, one that he’d only ever felt when gazing upon that accursed sheet music. “My Lady - Mrs. Nicholas. She was my patron, and she…she changed my life. I wouldn’t be capable of anything without her.”
“Oh, isn’t that just lovely…” Mary places her hands on Sangria’s, smiling fondly. “Finding someone like that is such a special thing, isn’t it?”
Sangria nods. “It is. I mean it when I say that My Lady saved me.”
Hmm…Antonio can’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling in his chest. Sangria regards her patron with extreme reverence, and yet something has felt off ever since the Opera Singer mentioned her. It’s an uncomfortable déjà vu that he can’t place - or rather, that he doesn’t want to place. Because if he were to face the truth, it would mean that this “Mrs. Nicholas” is really–
“Bark! Bark!”
The Post Dog makes his presence known, barking and scratching at the door. Antonio gets up, eager to distract himself while the alcohol sets in. He opens the door and thanks Wick with a scratch behind the ears, then takes the letters back to the table.
“Well?” Mary drums her fingers on the table. “Who are they for?”
“One for Signora Sangria, and…one for myself.” Antonio sighs, handing Sangria her letter before reluctantly pulling his open. Reluctance soon turns to dread.
“...what is a “Dual Faction” match?” Sangria asks, looking up from her letter.
“Oh! Is this your first??” Mary takes the letter, skimming through it. “How fun! You and Antonio are going to hunt together!”
“Together! I didn’t know that was possible.”
And Antonio had completely forgotten it was an option. Still, he must save face. Smiling, he spreads his hands. “Ah…yes, it is. Double Hunters, double Survivors. It can be daunting, especially if you’re newer to it. But with the two of us, it should be no problem, no?”
Sangria smirks. “Not at all. I’ve been hoping for a chance to collaborate.”
“As have I, signora. As have I.” Though the more he learns, the more he hesitates. This talk of her mysterious patron has him curious, but the feeling he gets about her…it’s all too familiar to the dread he feels when dealing with him.
Speaking of the devil…he’s been suspiciously quiet lately. At first, Antonio was grateful for the peace, but the fact that it started once Sangria arrived can’t be a mere coincidence. Hmph…if anything, the match will bring him out into the open - nothing excites that sadist quite like inflicting pain does. Maybe then, Antonio can finally get his questions answered. More importantly than that, though: he’ll be the first Hunter to see just what about Sangria’s hunting that makes her so lethal. It might be the only entertaining thing to come of all this…
—
Moonlit River Park is a vulgar place. Antonio has never enjoyed circuses, even in his youth. No spectacle was worth seeing animals beaten and trapped in cages - a sentiment felt twice as hard after he became a caged beast, himself. And to this day, he remains one within the manor; any real “power” that comes with being a Hunter is a mere illusion.
Best to get this over with quickly. That familiar ringing in his ears leads him right into the circus tent, just in time to see the Prospector head out the other way. Antonio grits his teeth. An annoying first chase, but better to get him out of the way early on. He follows the Survivor out onto the bridge, only to be notified that someone’s been hit. It seems that Sangria’s found the Lawyer - good! He decodes quickly if left unchecked.
The Prospector leads Antonio into a bundle of booths by the haunted house, and the Violinist does his best to keep an eye out for those accursed magnets. At least his music can prove lethal, and a well-timed note on his part does some damage to his opponent. His celebration is short-lived, though, as he suddenly finds himself flung backwards into the nearby slide. Groaning, Antonio pulls himself to his feet, trying to tune out the Prospector’s snickering. It’s still early in the match. There are ways to make this up. In fact, Sangria–
–has the Lawyer in a chair already?
How is that possible? He’s notoriously difficult to down, and yet his partner’s made short work of him in record time. Across the river, he catches sight of the Perfumer being chased by…something gliding along the fence. As the thing swiftly closes distance, the Opera Singer suddenly appears in its place, instantly striking the Survivor. Naturally, the Perfumer’s Euphoria grants her an escape, but Sangria once more transforms and gives chase at a breakneck speed.
“What a disgrace.”
Oh, wonderful. The very last voice Antonio wants to be hearing right now. “You know as well as I do that the Prospector is a nuisance.”
“Don’t give me excuses, boy. You’re making me look bad!”
“You?!” Antonio snarls, snatching his violin back from his hair. “The last time I checked, this was still my body. The only one being humiliated here is me.”
“Hmph. You really haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” Condescending as always, the bastard. “Tell me, Antonio. Have you ever seen a mortal move that fast, or change form at the drop of a hat? What else is capable of bestowing such power?”
Antonio knows what’s coming, no matter how much he wants to avoid it. Still, he’ll try to evade the inevitable. “Yes, yes, I know. If only you could be in control, then I’d rival the Opera Singer.”
“You could surpass her, boy. Don’t you get it?” The Violinist elects to move now, spotting the Faro Lady’s trail as she tries to slip out of the building nearby. That doesn’t stop the Devil’s pitch, of course. “We have competition now, and we look like fools! If you would just let me–”
“No!” Antonio swings his bow in frustration, which actually manages to land a blow on the Survivor. Finally…! Using spite as a motivator, Antonio continues the chase. “I am in control! And I’ll eliminate every damn Survivor without you!”
The Devil only responds with a condescending laugh, which only serves to enrage the Violinist even more. Fortunately, he’s able to cut it short by downing the Faro Lady as she tries to vault a window. A bit of lost time made up, but still so much more to go…Sangria’s already got the Perfumer chaired, and the Lawyer back down after a rescue. And the Prospector’s been healed in all this time…at least the Doctor just so happens to be decoding right by the Faro Lady’s chair.
And so it goes - chase a Survivor, knock them down, get them in a chair, lather, rinse, repeat. Before Antonio knows it, everyone is downed with only two ciphers remaining. It couldn’t be more obvious who’s responsible - Sangria eliminated six Survivors to his two, but the Prospector was one of his, so he really can’t complain. Unfortunately that doesn’t stop the complaining in his head.
“Do you see? That is what this body is capable of! If you’d only let me take control…we would put every single one of these Hunters to shame, including her!”
But that begs the question: does Antonio wish to put Sangria to shame? He watches as she approaches him, speeding across the bridge in a cloud of smoke with only her mask visible. It’s clear she’s got some sort of deal with a devil herself, but what sort of deal it is remains to be seen. She’s still got control of herself, her body is strong…but contrary to how the parasite in him feels, he can’t say he envies her. No matter how much better she may seem to be, there are always strings attached. It may simply be that her deal has its own terms, ones far different than Antonio’s own.
But he won’t figure them out listening to this bastard berate him. Tuning him out once more (difficult to do after such a draining match, but always worth it), the Violinist bows to his companion. “Excellent work today! Your Lady must be proud.”
Materializing from the shadows, Sangria smiles, bowing in turn. “We work well together. I hope I didn’t leave you alone for too much…”
“Oh no, no! That’s preferred, actually. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for not pulling my weight.”
“I didn’t see it that way.” Antonio instinctively bristles; she means well, but everyone knows how poor a state Antonio’s body is in. But if she only knew why… “The Prospector is obnoxious. I try to eliminate him when I can, myself.”
An excellent save on her part - Antonio almost believes it. “Tell me about it…but, truly signora. You were marvelous! You’ll have no trouble with any duo partner, I’m sure.”
“Don’t be so sure. There are a few I’d…rather avoid.” Now that sounds more like it! Even her good manners can’t hide feelings like those. “If only we could select our own partners.”
“If only…” Though Antonio does get an idea. Perhaps if he’d like to get to know more about her…asking her directly might help? “Though, nothing says we can’t choose to spend time together outside the games, hm?”
The Opera Singer smiles. “You’re right. I certainly don’t mind…”
“I have a spare bottle of wine. How about tonight, we finish it off to celebrate our victory?”
It only takes a moment for Sangria to nod. “That sounds lovely. Would midnight be too late?”
“Hm…a bit early, but…I can make it work.” Antonio winks. “I’ll see you tonight, signora.”
The circus around them begins to fade, but Antonio couldn’t care less. Finally, he’s going to get to the bottom of this all. And the fact that he won’t need to rely on him for help makes this victory all the more sweet. He can only hope Sangria is receptive to what he might ask…but considering some of the looks she’s given him, it might not be just her opening up tonight.
Thank goodness they’ll be drinking. He's going to need it.
—
The parlor is empty tonight, save for the duo seated at the table. As much as Antonio prefers his seat at the bar, this feels more appropriate. The elephant in the room prevents him from feeling as casual as he’d like, and once he dares to acknowledge it there’s no coming back. He wastes no time pouring two glasses of wine, immediately downing his to deal with his unease.
“Are you feeling alright?”
“What?” Antonio tenses when he feels Sangria staring at him. She looks…concerned. “Yes, I am. Why do you ask?”
“I know Dovlin works like medicine,” the Opera Singer answers, lightly swishing the wine in her own glass around before taking a sip. “You drank yours quickly…if you’re not feeling well–”
“Oh, no, no! That’s nothing!” Antonio waves that thought away with his hand as a tendril of hair refills his glass. “I am an avid appreciator of wine, especially Dovlin. Tonight, I’m drinking for pleasure instead of pain.” A bit of a stretch, but that’s alright. “I appreciate your concern, signora. Truly.”
“Sangria.” She smiles coyly. “You can use my name if you’d like. We’re peers, aren’t we?”
In multiple senses, yes. But this isn’t the way to bring that up. Instead, Antonio returns her smile with a grin of his own. “Indeed we are, Sangria. It’s just as I said before: you’re a natural Hunter.”
Sangria humbly averts her gaze as she sets her wine glass down. “And just as I said, it’s all thanks to Mrs. Nicholas. I’d be nothing without her.”
“What a coincidence!”
Ugh. The Violinist ignores the unwelcome guest, keeping his attention on Sangria. “You know, you’re incredibly humble for a prima donna…it’s not something I’m used to. That’s not to say it isn’t a breath of fresh air, but…someone with your background has every reason to take pride in what you’ve accomplished.”
For the first time, the Opera Singer’s expression grows dark. “I’m afraid my ‘background’ is the thing I’m least proud of.” She quickly takes up her wine glass again, downing it all in one go. “I’ll spare you the details. But before Mrs. Nicholas found me…I had no sense of my worth.”
“I’m…terribly sorry to hear that, Sangria.” It’s not at all what Antonio expected, but then again, neither is Sangria herself. The two of them couldn’t be more different: from an early age, Antonio had known how skilled a musician he was. Even now, with everything that’s happened, he knows his talent is very likely the only good thing left about him. For someone as skilled as Sangria to need someone else to tell her her worth…there’s no doubt her past is as dark as she claims.
“Oh, please don’t be.” Sangria quickly perks up - such a good actress she is. “It’s far behind me now. I know that I’ve come into my own…I just needed her to show me how.”
He catches her hand as she reaches up to scratch her neck. Antonio does his best to keep his expression neutral, but he can feel his eyes widen in shock once he catches a glimpse of something under Sangria’s bowtie: a deep, dark red line across her throat. It looks as though it’s healed, but there’s no mistaking such a scar, especially against such ghostly pale skin.
…hm. Antonio rubs his arm, feeling stitching both on and underneath his sleeve, stitches that keep his body literally held together. He’d been so desperate to escape his fate that he’d surrendered his body to do it. He’s not lost his soul - yet - but it’s clear that this Mrs. Nicholas has claimed Sangria’s - even if Sangria herself is the one offering it willingly. But it’s clear that Sangria had a fate she was desperate to escape from, too. And also like Antonio, she was willing to pay the ultimate price for it.
“Freezing up now, huh? Heh…typical.”
Ugh…if only his “patron” were more like this Mrs. Nicholas…but can he say that for sure? The grass is always greener on the other side; Sangria may be happy, but with that voice and scar, is she still even able to sing? Despite everything, Antonio can still play the violin to his heart’s content. It dawns on him then that…perhaps he doesn’t have Sangria figured out as much as he thought. There is a way to start, though.
“We are a bit alike, in that respect.” Finally working up the nerve to speak, Antonio finishes off his own glass of wine to be sure. “My troubles were not with me from birth…they were the consequences of my own foolishness. I lost sight of what truly mattered to me, and instead squandered my potential until I became a prisoner of my own folly. I found a way out, albeit with strings attached. But you know…” He grins. “Thinking it over, I probably would do it all again. Maybe with more wisdom than before, but…what I’ve lost is worth what I got to keep.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” The Opera Singer picks up the wine bottle, refilling both glasses. “Mrs. Nicholas’ help came at a cost, but it was a price I would pay a thousand times over.”
Sangria smiles warmly, making Antonio feel at peace. This isn’t the place for this yet. Surely they both know, but it can go unsaid for the time being. There’s far more to bond over on the human level, and far more to Sangria than her Mrs. Nicholas - just as there is far more to Antonio than his own “patron.” For now, as they smile and clink their glasses together, he’s content to start there.