Categories > Movies > League of Extraordinary Gentlemen
On the Way to Mongolia
0 reviewsM, his lieutenant Dante, and Dorian Gray make their way towards M's fortress in the Mongolian wastelands after the near destruction of Venice.
1Ambiance
On the Way to Mongolia
By CoolMoon
M, his lieutenant Dante, and Dorian Gray make their way towards M's fortress in the Mongolian wastelands after the near destruction of Venice.
(Author's Note:
This is based on the movie League of Extraordinary Gentlemen as well as the novelization of the movie, written by K. J. Anderson. Dante is more in-depth in the novelization. In the movie, he is the second-in-command and most notable for his transformation into a beast even larger than Hyde near the end of the movie.)
"Damn that old man. He isn't supposed to be that good anymore."
M was livid, and the pain in his shoulder caused by his own stiletto thrown back at him was doing nothing for his mood. The thick garbs of the Fantom as well as the silver mask and his starched, white shirt were abandoned on the floor of the nautiloid. He sat erect on a backless seat near a back-up control board. His pale-eyed lieutenant, Dante, stood behind him, tending the wound left on the mastermind from his graveyard battle with the aging hunter, Allan Quatermain.
"Ah," the commandeered exploration pod's final occupant drawled, "but he never would have caught the brute if he had lost his edge." Dorian Gray's unnaturally wide eyes remained focused on the vast ocean that Nemo's craft was navigating, but M knew he was smirking. The smirk spread further across Dorian's youthful features as M yelped. Dante had obviously mishandled the wound.
"My apologies, James," Dante murmured humbly. Cruelty ran through his body, within his blood, with every beat of his cold heart, but he was not fool enough to delight in the pain experienced by the ruthless M.
"Dante." M needed to say no more. The lieutenant understood.
There was no hesitation or shame, Dorian noted, or even a wayward glance to the immortal from Dante. He and M were, no doubt, unaware that Dorian could see the two at least somewhat, reflected in the glass of the Nautiloid as he appeared to study the sea. Dante's right hand continued to secure the bandage to M's shoulder while his left hand curled around the thin man's other shoulder. That hand moved then, over the shoulder and onto the chest. Dorian's view of Dante's hand was gone, since most of M's back was to him, but he could judge from the arm's movement that it moved down and to the center. M's groan and Dante's lack of apology told Dorian that Dante had reached his target.
Within three minutes, the work on M's shoulder was done and done well, despite Dante using only one hand. M had given only one other sound, shortly before Dante had finished. Dorian had not been able to decipher whether it had been a groan of pain or pleasure.
"My scientists," M purred with great self-satisfaction, probably speaking more for the sake of hearing him talk rather than imparting new knowledge, "will soon have copies of the abilities of all those fools. And they will be dead very shortly."
"And my picture?" Dorian asked, not turning around. He tried to sound uninterested, but he was sure M heard the small note of pleading in his voice.
"It will be delivered to you upon our arrival," M said without infliction. One hand rose then, and Dorian saw the reflected M make a small motion which Dante seemed to understand. As the lieutenant moved, Dorian thought he heard something... someone shifting. Yet, he saw nothing reflected, and he assumed it was only Dante, despite the feeling that the sound seemed to come from elsewhere in the small craft.
Dante sunk to his knees, hidden from view by M's back, and Dorian quirked a plucked eyebrow. He smirked slightly. Would M notice if his pale-eyed lieutenant were dead? Would M care if this man's life was cut short in vengeance for a stolen portrait? It would be easy, Dorian mused as he heard M groan and saw his thin back arch, to murder the man. He was an immortal, and Dante was not.
Yes... Even if M would not notice Dante's death, Dorian would see the life taken. After all, he wanted some sort of retribution for what was taken from him!
Deep in the shadows, the invisible Rodney Skinner bit his lip. If he laughed, as every moan and mutter from M under Dante's attentions made him want to do, everything would be undone. He had to keep quiet, and he had to keep still. He had to wait for the right opportunity to move, and it would not be for a long while, Skinner was sure.
By CoolMoon
M, his lieutenant Dante, and Dorian Gray make their way towards M's fortress in the Mongolian wastelands after the near destruction of Venice.
(Author's Note:
This is based on the movie League of Extraordinary Gentlemen as well as the novelization of the movie, written by K. J. Anderson. Dante is more in-depth in the novelization. In the movie, he is the second-in-command and most notable for his transformation into a beast even larger than Hyde near the end of the movie.)
"Damn that old man. He isn't supposed to be that good anymore."
M was livid, and the pain in his shoulder caused by his own stiletto thrown back at him was doing nothing for his mood. The thick garbs of the Fantom as well as the silver mask and his starched, white shirt were abandoned on the floor of the nautiloid. He sat erect on a backless seat near a back-up control board. His pale-eyed lieutenant, Dante, stood behind him, tending the wound left on the mastermind from his graveyard battle with the aging hunter, Allan Quatermain.
"Ah," the commandeered exploration pod's final occupant drawled, "but he never would have caught the brute if he had lost his edge." Dorian Gray's unnaturally wide eyes remained focused on the vast ocean that Nemo's craft was navigating, but M knew he was smirking. The smirk spread further across Dorian's youthful features as M yelped. Dante had obviously mishandled the wound.
"My apologies, James," Dante murmured humbly. Cruelty ran through his body, within his blood, with every beat of his cold heart, but he was not fool enough to delight in the pain experienced by the ruthless M.
"Dante." M needed to say no more. The lieutenant understood.
There was no hesitation or shame, Dorian noted, or even a wayward glance to the immortal from Dante. He and M were, no doubt, unaware that Dorian could see the two at least somewhat, reflected in the glass of the Nautiloid as he appeared to study the sea. Dante's right hand continued to secure the bandage to M's shoulder while his left hand curled around the thin man's other shoulder. That hand moved then, over the shoulder and onto the chest. Dorian's view of Dante's hand was gone, since most of M's back was to him, but he could judge from the arm's movement that it moved down and to the center. M's groan and Dante's lack of apology told Dorian that Dante had reached his target.
Within three minutes, the work on M's shoulder was done and done well, despite Dante using only one hand. M had given only one other sound, shortly before Dante had finished. Dorian had not been able to decipher whether it had been a groan of pain or pleasure.
"My scientists," M purred with great self-satisfaction, probably speaking more for the sake of hearing him talk rather than imparting new knowledge, "will soon have copies of the abilities of all those fools. And they will be dead very shortly."
"And my picture?" Dorian asked, not turning around. He tried to sound uninterested, but he was sure M heard the small note of pleading in his voice.
"It will be delivered to you upon our arrival," M said without infliction. One hand rose then, and Dorian saw the reflected M make a small motion which Dante seemed to understand. As the lieutenant moved, Dorian thought he heard something... someone shifting. Yet, he saw nothing reflected, and he assumed it was only Dante, despite the feeling that the sound seemed to come from elsewhere in the small craft.
Dante sunk to his knees, hidden from view by M's back, and Dorian quirked a plucked eyebrow. He smirked slightly. Would M notice if his pale-eyed lieutenant were dead? Would M care if this man's life was cut short in vengeance for a stolen portrait? It would be easy, Dorian mused as he heard M groan and saw his thin back arch, to murder the man. He was an immortal, and Dante was not.
Yes... Even if M would not notice Dante's death, Dorian would see the life taken. After all, he wanted some sort of retribution for what was taken from him!
Deep in the shadows, the invisible Rodney Skinner bit his lip. If he laughed, as every moan and mutter from M under Dante's attentions made him want to do, everything would be undone. He had to keep quiet, and he had to keep still. He had to wait for the right opportunity to move, and it would not be for a long while, Skinner was sure.
Sign up to rate and review this story