|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2009 8:57 am
Part 1: Oh. Hi there.
Duke grows, Jack gets freaked out.
The Rolls-Royce, despite all it's gleaming, carefully-polished glory, did not have a sound system. Didn't even have anywhere to put a radio, really - except on the back seat. Which was where it was right now, with an imp pressed up against the casing. Jack had worried a little about Duke going deaf or something... but then he realized that the creature didn't have ears to begin with. For all he knew, Duke was just a ball of solid... evilness or something. Which was fine by him, except for those times when he was oh-so-abruptly reminded how painful a watermelon-shaped ball of evilness could be.
But he was working on that. Twisting the antique wheel, he sent the car down a narrow alley, buildings looming up above him. He'd been to this place before - third house on the right, grab the stack of pizza boxes from the back and jog up the external staircase. He hammered on the door, balancing the pies against his hip until a sort of lanky redhead opened the door, yawning and digging through her bra for the money. Jack took it with a sort of inward shudder, pinching the bill between his fingers and not bothering to ask her if she wanted change. Honestly - why did girls do that? It wasn't that Jack had anything against breasts, but goddamnit - if he kept money in his boxers, no one would find that sexy either.
Back in the car, and back down the alley. Humming to himself, Jack reached down to the passenger seat, fingers grasping at where the bag of chips... was. Before he had to face the busty redhead. Frowning, he looked at the floor, feeling around a little more. "Where are you, you little - "
A crunch, in the back seat. Jack twisted around in his seat, swearing under his breath and reaching back to pull the bag away from Duke. Or rather, off Duke - the imp had wriggled halfway into it, and Jack could only feel grateful that the creature didn't drool much. "Aren't you ******** stuffed already? You've eaten half this bag and I'm like ten times your size. I don't even think you should be eating this s**t, anyway. Go have your apple." He sat the bag back down on the passenger seat, and ignored the whine from the back. One more delivery to do - across the bridge and up a laboriously steep hill, the ancient engine struggling up the last bit. At least he didn't have to worry about breasts in this house.
Back to the car, and once again the passenger seat was lacking a bag of chips. He didn't even bother looking back this time, just reached back for the bag and put it in his lap this time. Figured that settled that - he was done work for the day, and all he had to do was find a place to park. Just as he was starting to put together a plan for the night, he felt something rustle just beside his waist. "Duke - goddamnit, get your bloody mouth off my - " He batted back at the imp - but felt a hand. Long, slender fingers wrapped around the plastic edge of the bag, tugging at it persistently. He jerked back in surprise and hitting the brakes, sending the automobile to a screeching halt.
A pointed, pale face stared at him from the back seat, framed by hair tinted a familiar purple hue. A pair of horns jutted out from the male's forehead, an undeniable mimicry of the horns that were just recently on top of the imp's head. Jack stared. Duke grinned, quirked an eyebrow, and snatched the bag of chips back before his contractor could say a word.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2010 2:08 pm
Part 2: Testing Theories
Jack takes Duke out for a walk... with some worthwhile exercise.
Jack woke up that morning with a theory. It was a good theory - it included everything he had, and resulted in everything he needed. It was a theory that, if proven right - which it would be - would lead him to the land of his dreams. He wasn't sure where that was exactly, but it would certainly involve a big house, lots of money, and a really, really expensive bathroom. With thousand-dollar showerheads and barely-frosted glass panels. Mmmm.
The theory wasn't particularly confident. To put it very simply: Duke + Hands = Time to make some ******** money. So, even though the demon had barely more than a handful of hours to get used to his human form, he was currently sitting in the passenger seat, dark eyes studying the upscale houses they were passing. This was Noctis' neighbourhood, but it was only mildly familiar... the kind of people who lived here, they didn't get pizza too often. Jack wasn't sure they cooked either - he sure as hell wouldn't waste his time with something like that - so he figured they just went out to eat in overpriced restaurants every night.
He wondered if their trips to overpriced restaurants ended anything like his had, a few days ago.
They parked outside a house he'd picked out some time ago, filed away in the back of his mind for later consideration. There wouldn't be anyone home at this time of day, so they could waltz right in - assuming they paid attention to the alarm, and didn't look to suspicious while lugging out the fruits of their labor. Not so hard for Jack, if you didn't look too close. He was well-dressed and drove a Rolls Royce. Duke had horns... but Duke had a way of staying out of sight, as long as Jack made it clear that that was what he should, in fact, be doing.
They walked around the the back door, which had a much less complicated lock. Still, the demon didn't seem to have much patience for lock-picking - Jack had only started rummaging for his tools when Duke stepped forward and grabbed onto the handle - wrenching it downwards until it gave a rather satisfying crack. Satisfying to the demon's ears, at least - he grinned and pulled the door open. Jack just flinched and scurried in to work on the alarm, keeping Duke in the corner of his eye.
"Don't - don't touch that. We don't need to break anything."
Duke frowned, started to say something -
"Except the safe. Come on." Grabbing onto the demon's arm, he dragged the purple-haired male behind him like a child. There was no need, of course - the words 'safe' and 'break' were music to Duke's ears. He was walking beside his contract soon enough, almost skipping into the over-decorated study that held the sturdy metal cabinet. Jack stood back and let the other have his fun, letting go of his arm like a policeman letting go of his German Shepherd - watching, with growing excitement, as the slender man exercised his unlikely strength.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 23, 2011 5:59 am
Number 13 at Redcastle Cross
Somebody's starting to feel a little domestic...
A long few months saw the bright red Rolls-Royce sitting not out in the street but in the driveway of a tall Victorian house, all red brick and a darkly-painted porch, and a peaked roof three floors overhead. It was quiet - because it was two in the afternoon, which meant that it's occupants should very well be asleep. They worked nights. Late nights. Last night, too - they'd only gotten home at six in the morning, riding in on the tail end of darkness. The sun had began to rise just as they stepped inside, and having to interest in making use of it's daytime glory both demon and contractor curled up in their respective beds.
Jack, of course, in the master bedroom, in a bed infinitely bigger than he had any use for. Used to sleeping in a car, he'd spend the first few weeks coiled up nervously in one corner, entirely unsure of what to do with the rest of the wide open expanse before him. But those times were long gone, and tonight Jack lay comfortably in the middle, his clothes heaped in a puddle on the ground. Along with many other similar puddles, and dusty corners, and - they ought to hire someone, to clean up. At least down here in Jack's domain, still half-furnished but slowly filling up with things, and the former pizza delivery man at a complete loss for how to keep it all maintained.
No one, of course, would venture into Duke's territory - the attic. Now Jack had not put him there - he'd offered him one of the two other bedrooms, fair and square. But the purple-haired demon retreated immediately to the rafters and crawlspaces above them, setting up a sort of nest. Well, it had looked much like a nest when Jack had last seen it, which was more than three months ago. Lately he'd avoided it altogether, because everytime he opened the door to call Duke down for work the dim space was filled with some strange colored glow, and disconcerting shadows were cast on the ground at his feet.
Duke had hobbies. Hobbies Jack could not understand. Not stamp-collecting or cross-stitch, that was for sure. Something else. Something that occasionally smelled faintly of sulphur, and sometimes made the whole house mist up like a rock concert with a smoke machine. Jack chose to ignore it - for the most part, Duke did his due. Sometimes he was even a worthwhile companion - when he found the time to crawl out of his nest and watch television. Which was most of what Jack did, outside of their work. He liked the television. It was big, and it had all the channels on it. It was nice. As were his other things. He had quite a few nice things, actually. Not as many as he'd imagined he's have, but... this was alright. This was pretty nice.
Maybe he was getting old, but to be entirely honest, if Duke got up and left tomorrow, he wouldn't find too much to complain about.
But Duke did not leave. And everytime they came home, Duke would eye the contents of the house, and the clothes on Jack's back, and count off the money on their account - and it wasn't enough. Something was still missing, and he could not leave his job unfinished.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
