漆原 半蔵 / Lucifer (
disorder_heaven) wrote2015-10-12 10:19 pm
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Magic Hunt at MFing Aokigahara
The fact that Urushihara had a keen eye for patterns and trends was one of his less appreciated skills. As one of the war generals in Demon King Satan's army, it made his division highly feared and nearly unstoppable.
Here, it had gotten him something more along the lines of a snarky comment from Ashiya. "About time," or something like that. Hard to tell. Urushihara hadn't really been listening.
Either way, upon Urushihara's elaboration regarding the Suicide Forest, Ashiya had grown more and more uncertain. Eventually comments about warning signs and body sweeps deteriorated into snide remarks about cell phones failing to work and the pitch blackness that came with noon.
A bowl of miso soup full of something-whatever beta took care of the bitching, but Ashiya managed to come out of the bathroom just long enough to lob a thick volume of Maou's favourite manga at the back of Urushihara's head. So, when Maou returned home from his long, hard day at MgRonald's, it would be to the sight of Urushihara on the ground and Ashiya in the bathroom groaning dramatically.
Just another day at the Devil's Castle.
Here, it had gotten him something more along the lines of a snarky comment from Ashiya. "About time," or something like that. Hard to tell. Urushihara hadn't really been listening.
Either way, upon Urushihara's elaboration regarding the Suicide Forest, Ashiya had grown more and more uncertain. Eventually comments about warning signs and body sweeps deteriorated into snide remarks about cell phones failing to work and the pitch blackness that came with noon.
A bowl of miso soup full of something-whatever beta took care of the bitching, but Ashiya managed to come out of the bathroom just long enough to lob a thick volume of Maou's favourite manga at the back of Urushihara's head. So, when Maou returned home from his long, hard day at MgRonald's, it would be to the sight of Urushihara on the ground and Ashiya in the bathroom groaning dramatically.
Just another day at the Devil's Castle.
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"Right, and! You can have my meat." Maou relinquished the piece and nabbed another strip, dipping it into the sauce with finality. He was incredibly pleased with himself.
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You know, the important questions.
And, perhaps, Urushihara felt as though he'd lost because Maou had planned to let him take the beef from the start.
"Y'know," Maou began thoughtfully, "I'm startin' to think we need to invest in one o' these for the Devil's Castle."
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He knew Maou meant the grill, of course, but it wasn't like they had much to grill except broccoli stalks and bean sprouts.
"Maybe that's why I'm just so weak and delicate and tired. I'm anemic. Need more red meat. Tell Ashiya."
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It was perhaps lucky that a piece of rice chose that moment to go down the wrong pipe, causing him to choke and cut himself off.
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He showed clear concern when Urushihara was lying prone on the ground, but apparently choking to death wasn't enough to warrant much sympathy.
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"Ma-an, fuck you..."
There was no real malice behind it. Mostly because it was hard to be intimidating when you'd just choked on a single grain of rice.
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His expression could have been mistaken for concern, but it seemed more like mild consternation. If his subordinate was going to choke, Maou didn't want it to be on rice.
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And that was just when Urushihara got called to the table to begin with. He didn't doubt that he'd missed many meals.
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"I'll see if I can't get Ashiya to budge the budget a bit for meat. Considerin' I've tried before, no promises."
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Ashiya would neeever have to know.
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"No." Maou finally said. His tone was like that of an owner reprimanding a dog. "Next thing you know the doorbell rings an' your legs're asleep again. You'd be boned."
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Then again, one did have to wonder why Urushihara bothered buying games for his PS Vita. Ashiya had a nasty tendency to hide the damn console, anyway.
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He would think of something, but chances were high that even if Maou didn't disregard them, Ashiya would.
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Maybe if he dumbed it down that much, Maou would let it slide. If worse came to worse, at least he was still technically Maou's dependent.
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Yes, that was indeed permission to break the law. In small amounts.
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He gave Maou a pathetic, miserable look.
"What am I allowed to do, man?"
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"You could . . . blog?"
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He snorted and flopped a piece of meat off the grill and directly into the saucer of liquid, where not enough remained for it to actually splash. Then he popped it into his mouth with his fingers.
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For getting a following of Dark'ness Dementias, anyway.
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