maskormenacelogs | (CLOSED) Why won't you let me songfic

(CLOSED) Why won't you let me songfic

WHO: Sadao Maou and Hanzo Urushihara
WHERE: Maurtia Falls
WHEN: 11/30 around noon
WHAT: Maou's decided to drag Urushihara out to explore their world, broaden their horizons. They talk about stuff and get into trouble.
WARNINGS: URUSHIHARA IS A TWERP. also violence, death, and "brief strong language"

[The Devil King marches down the seedy streets of Maurtia Falls, his trusted poor NEET housemate along for the ride. He had explored this world a week after they arrived, but it hadn't been an entirely detailed expedition. The main streets of De Chima and a few blocks of their new home, to be precise, before a certain dog demon got him side-tracked for the entire day.

Now, with his only available Demon General, who he dragged out of the house at the wee hours of the noon-times, Maou intends to become intimate with this city of demonic humans. If he couldn't get to know this world, how could he hope to take it over?

It's with that in mind that Maou stands with a hand on his hip, scanning an intersection not far from their house as if he were surveying his next conquest. He turns to Urushihara, grinning]

Hey, pick a direction.

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Whatever direction is quickest to back home.

[ Urushihara, as expected, would rather be doing almost literally anything else. Everything about him is tight and grumpy, his arms firmly crossed and his lips pressed into a thin line. His wings, which had been causing him pain from day one here, were out, and folded tensely behind his back.

Really, there's not much sign of the old Demon General in this bratty eighteen-year-old grumpypuss. ]

Maaaan, you're no fun.

[Maou heads to the right, decidedly away from home, and slaps the crosswalk button. He slips the hand in his pocket and turns to Mr. Sour Gummy Bear.

It is seriously weird seeing those wings juxtaposed against that bratty face. Maou's brow pinches wryly]

You don't gotta be excited about scoping out an entire city of crime-- [Which Maou thinks is very much worth the excitement] --but do you gotta pout?

Edited (i'm an idiot) 2015-11-16 07:54 (UTC)

Yes, I gotta. Why do we gotta masq around as humans still? We can be whatever here, man. I saw a fucking dragon the other day. On the network. Like that's normal.

And maybe it is, here, so why the hell are you still Sadao Maou?

[ His usual whiny tone is gone, as is the sarcastic lilt that tends to fade in and out of it. He's dead serious now. ]

[He stares at the tar as he waits for the light to turn. The Demon King, waiting for the light to change when there are no cars approaching in Convict City. It's a valid question, and it's one he hadn't really considered. He gives it some silent thought]

I guess I just went with that as default. But . . . [He meets Urushihara's eyes, all determination] I'm gonna take over this world. Then our Earth. The way I go about things here, that's how I'll do it.

If I'm walkin' around on full power, all Satan all the time, that's how humans'll react t' me. Not exactly prime part-time physique. I'd have to rise to power the ol' fashioned way.

Seems like every time we start fucking up taking over a world, we get transported to a different one. Now who needs to pick a direction?

[ Yeah, he's bitter. ]

You spend your magic helping humans. All the time, always. Every since back then.

Gkk-- [Low blow! He grimaces, and the edge of his lips twitch. There's no way he's that lost! Right?

He strengthens that question into resolve, for now, and he frowns]

I clean up my messes, and I don't want any unneeded attention that'll make my cause harder. I've got pride an' pragmatism. Just so happens that aligns with helping out. Or would you rather I leave the city in ruins?

Right now?

[ But he's not serious. He's a stealth-fighter, himself, built for strategy and speed. He knows Maou's right, but... ]

It'd help if I knew you still had some demon in you.

I got more than some. But you want proof, right? [For SOME fucked reason. What the hell, man?!

He tilts his head thoughtfully, his chin thrust upward in challenge] Pointless violence isn't my style. It's all about the profit. So how do two demons get a leg up in a city of crime?

They get inside info. Double agents. Informants. ...That's what I was. [ And that went so well for him. ] So, what, you're trying to have us talk to the nice people and get in with all the nasty people?

With everyone. Well, everyone worth using, anyway. And t' do that . . . [The crosswalk light has a few seconds to its countdown before it again goes red, and Maou marches across] . . . we drop in on the criminal watering holes.

So? [He spreads his arms] Field trip!

...We're gonna get shot. [ He speaks in the most deadpan tone imaginable, wings fluttering for a moment as he stretches them out then folds them securely against his back again. ] I hope you know what you're doing, Shift Manager Sadao Maou.

[He makes a petulant face] We are not gonna get shot! Have some faith, man.

If anything, we'll get stabbed. C'mon, it's this way. [The sentence is hardly finished before Maou turns directly down a seedy alley]

Right, because I've never gotten stabbed before of your poor decision-making in the past. [ Grumble grumble. He follows Maou with only slight hesitance, his body tensed like a cat ready to spring. ]

[He chooses not to reply to that, but the off-hand sigh of his shoulders is response enough: "Yeah, yeah, very funny." Maou advances, winding through a maze of back streets as if he has a hundred men behind him. Far as he's concerned, he may as well. Or maybe that's just how it looks]

See, rather than gripe all day, I've been scopin' out this city. Learned some ins. And a lotta high rolling shady types hang out on Heath and Safety Nightmare Lane. Until they all disappear . . . here.

[He stops and faces a thick, rusted metal door. He flashes a grin with the glint of a knife] Ready t' make friends?

You lead, I'll follow.

[ The comment manages to be both incredibly bitter and comfortingly loyal. Urushihara is a grumpy kid, but he's loyal to his guardian. Lucifer is a powerful general, but he's still more than just a little pissed off. He waits, his eyes flashing. ]

[That's enough for Maou. It all balances itself out in the end. His hand planted on his hip, he looks back to the door]

Heh. Right! [A hardy knock thunders against the metal. A narrow window akin to those at prisons or asylums slides open, and the angry eyes of a plump, sweaty face peer out to see a messy-haired young man exuding the working poor aura. But never fear, his trusty child (admittedly a bit scary) sidekick is also here.

The window clacks closed. Maou stares, waiting. Silence]

. . . The hell?! Hey! I'm a paying customer. Open up! [He pounds his fist against the door. Still nothing. Yeah, they're not being taken seriously]

Yeah, you really don't know how this stuff works. Some epic research skills there, man.

[ He has to stand on his toes to rap the metal with his knuckles, but any humor from that is nullified at the tone of his voice. Void of his usual snark or whine, he hisses out. ]

Open up. We have business to attend to. [ If or when the man comes back, one look into those ominous, too-shiny eyes will encourage the man to let them right in... Or whatever it is Maou is planning to ask him to do. ]

[The man never truly left. Irritated, he snaps the peephole open, and the curse on his lips fades away. His eyes gloss over] Right . . . [Big, Dumb and Scary opens the door and steps aside. Even through Suggestion, he manages a scummy sneer] Right this way, gentlemen.

Yeah, that's right. [Maou mutters testily before marching inside the dark hallway like he wasn't about to blow up Maurtia Falls' criminal hub. As he walks past, he commands the bouncer under his breath] If we run out of here, cover us.

[He nods to Lucifer with none of the appreciation Maou feels for his contribution, but rather with an air of smoothly moving on] So Mr. Epic Research Skills . . . [ok mostly moving on.

Standing at the end of the hallway is a curtain. He pushes it aside, revealing a gambling joint lit about as well as any good murder hot spot should be. Cigar smoke hangs in the air like fog, and seedy men and women of all types and sizes crowd around the tables. Suits and muscle shirts stand side-by-side, save for one classy table in the back. It's pretty safe to say they're all packing.

The meanest of them turn to glare at Maou and Urushihara like this is some bad Wild Western movie and the new guys just stumbled in a saloon]

Know anything about cards? [His slightly hopeful tone might make a person wonder whether he planned this at all]

No. But I do know that Gackt is going to walk in and talk about bunraku-style Spiderman comics with a gimp bartender if we stay too long. [ The obscure movie reference indicates his discomfort. He keeps back to the shadows, his wings folded tight against his back, his arms crossed again. In here, Urushihara feels even smaller.

In fact, it's more likely than not that Lucifer and Satan will make an appearance here than anything. This is not like Japan. The meanness and hatred and tension in the air sits on Lucifer's tongue bitterly, and he watches Maou from the corner of his eye, cautious of a sudden growth spurt. ]

What, are we here to play poker?

You cereal? I dunno how to play poker. [Hiss it a little louder, Maou] If we do for real, we'll lose.

[He spares a glance to the room and grimaces wryly with the effort of holding back just that kind of transformation Urushihara expects. When you confront criminal warlords, you better have ace-as-fuck timing.

Or Maou's regretting his life decisions. Either way]

We're gonna put some money on the big wig's table an' make 'em lose. [Good ol' fashioned hypnotism] That'll earn their leader's attention. Then we show everyone in this room who we really are, an' bam! Instant army. Just add water.

That or they kill us for posing a challenge to them. [ Unlike Maou, Lucifer's voice is a low, even growl. ] Remember what happens if you get shot through the heart, Maou. It tends to take you down pretty damn fast.

[That sobers him up. For perhaps the first time on this outing, it looks like he's taking the consequences seriously]

Yeah, I remember. [His tone is pointed. While he's long since forgiven Lucifer for that, he doesn't appreciate being reminded by the guy who did the shooting] I also remember getting up afterwards.

[And just like that, he slips back into his bantering Maou cadence] Besides, have you seen American movies? They got crap aim.

No, the villains have crap aim. And we're not exactly good guys, Maou.

[ Plus the funny guy tended to be the one to get shot when there wasn't a black guy to go first, and Maou isn't funny. ]

[Wow rude, Maou is hilarious. As for who the good guys are around here...]

Neither are they. It's villains v. villains, an' we've got more fire power. Sometimes literally. [He's done the Rousing Speech so many times, he can abbreviate it to four words:] C'mon. We got this.

After you, Boss. [ There couldn't be any more of a heavy, annoyed drag on those words. ]

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