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"So, Nassy,"
Nassy, she drawls, as if testing the way it sounds on her mouth. Mimi rocks her legs, and the older of the two scrawls away, something about patrol and the left wing of the castle, the dim light of the study taking a toll on her usual print handwriting.
Mimi continues, "What are you always writing in that notebook of yours anyway?"
"Clipboard." She corrects. "A minion task force will be sent off in a sec', we need to take some last rounds in case further coercion is necessary. They can't be on duty until they've completely earned the count's trust."
The Koopa Troop were more trouble than they were worth, Nastasia thought. She'd much prefer to employ the fully trained Koopatrols against the heroes, throw in some Magikoopas for good measure, but the count seemed adamant that she make use of the entire Koopa King's arsenal, all in specific ranges as to not fully bog the heroes down. It was a waste of their efforts, really, but the count didn't seem to touch on the implication of such a tactic, so Nastasia didn't press it either. She never did.
She purses her lips, momentarily focuses back on today's task sheet as she taps her pen on the thin material. The armour-clad Koopatrols seemed more than willing to make use of their hardened capabilities for the cause, but that was only rivaled by the everyday Koopa and their rock solid devotion to their former leader. Nastasia decides to drop the thought.
"We, huh?" Mimi stops the gentle sway of her legs, and instead crosses them. "You're the one with the super freaky hypno-bilities, you're not thinking of involving all of us in this, are you? I mean, it's so easy for you."
Nastasia finally looks up, sensing an unprecedented bite to the younger girl's voice. "Why are you here, Mimi?"
She bats her lashes, eyes wide in her usual mock-did-no-wrong gaze. "Golly, to talk, mostly. Girl to girl, yeah? It gets boring only talking to the guys around here. I'm running low on options, y'know."
Nastasia sighs and leans back on her chair, pace officially thrown off. As usual, Mimi wastes no time intruding on others' privacy and talking down to her subject of interest. It's rude, and it's a childish way to vy for her attention, especially since she seems to be in a fussy mood today, but Nastasia thinks of team morale and interpersonal bonds, and she inwardly cringes, figuring it's best to indulge the mass of green sitting on her office bench. She's not keen on making connections here, but she needed to maintain good rapport with her fellow teammates for smoother operations. And as big of a handful as she was, Mimi was easier to read than their resident charming magician, for what it's worth.
She gives the girl a long look behind her dark tinted glasses. Mimi's frame is slim, all spindly limbs and elongated, prettily manicured fingers, now lazily gripping the edge of her creaky wooden desk. She thinks of her true form, stark black spider legs tearing out of her neck in a hot dripping mess, the way they carry a jarringly corpse-like, yet still somewhat animated Mimi at her supposed will. In Nastasia's opinion, she looked positively possessed during those moments. Her eyes trace the delicate curve of her neck, absent of all its grotesque depths, up to her catty smile, the corners of her mouth now slowly relaxing downwards, and Nastasia realises what she's doing.
She swallows the dry lump in her throat, "You have your duties at the mansion the to keep yourself busy with, yeah? Give me a run-down of that, K'?"
Mimi smiles sheepishly at her, happy the secretary seemed more willing now, but the reminder of where she should be gets her slightly antsy. Which, to Mimi's credit, is an unfounded anxiety. Mimi has been spending a lot of her time in Gloam Valley, preparing for the heroes' arrival. She perks her shoulders high, all cheeks. "Oh, you know, business is going swell!"
Nastasia had given her a brief objective: distract, ensnare, scare off. Mimi's specialty. The exact method, Nastasia couldn't be sure of, but Mimi proved to be quite a crafty girl. Still, she makes a mental note to check in on preparations at the humid, swampy stretch of land Mimi's staying at. O'Chunks' station at Yold Desert wasn't anything worth monitoring, but she had turned a blind eye to Merlee's Mansion once she made sure the resident herself was accordingly dealt with (cornered by Mimi, mind-numbed by yours truly. Merlee won't be wriggling her way out of that messy entanglement of webs in the basement any time soon).
"The mansion is a hotspot for travelers seeking guidance, If I'm remembering correctly. You've managed to occupy them as I've asked?" Not by the count's orders, as that nitty bit of detail had no business flying by him. However much Nastasia could prevent needless casualties, she'd see to it. If Mimi could somehow create a diversion for the occasional backpackers and nomads seeking the famed fortune teller and mistress of the house (whatever), that would help operations run smoothly and cooly.
"Occupy, yeah! They don't suspect a thing, but I'm pretty sure the rumour mill around those parts tells to keep out unless they know what's good for them." She leans to her side, her elbow buckling under her weight to fully face Nastasia, eyes shimmering, all innocence. "I've gotten a bit of a reputation, see."
She says it with a mysterious twirl to her voice, and it makes Nastasia scrunch her brows. "Nothing too showy, K'? If they have a name to attach to your face, people all around will have their eyes on you. We don't want anyone more than the heroes getting in our way."
"Hmmm..." Mimi leans back upright, tilting her head against her protruding shoulder. The motion makes one of her pigtails slide off her collar and bounce entracedly off to her back. Nastasia's eyes snap back at her teasing grin. "Oh, is that bad? I don't mind a few eyes on me, you know."
She looks off, a random dark spot in the room as a dazed look takes over her features, the faint light of the thundering void outside pooling around the side of her face. The room suddenly feels stuffy. "It's fun to let your eyes wonder. Dimentio's not bad to look at, for starters."
Nastasia sits up slightly, as if rudely awoken. "Dimentio?"
"Mhm, you see it too right?" She has a what can only be called a girlish glow to her as she prattles on to the other. "He has that whole mysterious showman vibe to him. Pretty voice too, for a guy."
"It's hard to say," Nastasia can't help but come off as dry, suddenly disinterested in where the conversation took her. "That mask of his doesn't, uh, help."
Mimi rolls her eyes. "Oh puh-lease. Like that's stopping anything! The mask adds to the intrigue, if anything! He could have a messed up face under there, even that would be kinda hot."
Like yours? Nastasia can't stop the thought from forming. It's a mean thought, really, but she can't help but draw a comparison. Her fellow teammates seemed the two-faced type, it made sense it'd show on their true faces.
Mimi must've sensed having lost her, because she then says this.
"Then again, you probably only have eyes for the count, no use girl-gossiping it up with you loyal types."
Nastasia's eyes harden at that. She doesn't really care what Mimi thinks of her relationship with the count, but she feels a nauseating pull at her stomach regardless. "It's no use talking about it, yes," She looks at her above her lenses, a warning. "So let's just leave it at that."
Mimi's eyelids drop halfway, miffed. "Booo... what a boring answer..."
Nastasia sighs in relief when she feels a beat of silence, as if the topic felt finally dropped. Nastasia wondered so much, what her life could've looked like as a real human woman. In an ideal world...she'd dress up to go to work, somewhere central. She distantly pictures Mimi gagging 'Even in your ideal world you're stuck doing labour!' She'd tap her lanyard on the security panels and leave the office, grab her third coffee of the day from her favourite local cafe. Make a pit stop at the bakery. Maybe the love of her life could've smiled on her way back. Bumped into her and make her drop her glasses. Something serendipitous- an awkward, yet charming first encounter. Nastasia regards her meeting with the count in such sanctity. There was something horrifically vulnerable in the way the count found her and swallowed her whole, all for his using. All consuming and as deep and dark as the void she now looks after. Would she truly trade this intensity for anything more in the realm of daily life? Is that what it takes? A single person to shake her up and allow herself to completely pour herself into?
"I could turn into him, you know?"