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Looking at himself in one of the large mirrors of the room-sized wardrobe, Malory posed. Cool at first, arms crossed and judgemental, then turned a little interested. Then coy. Then very interested. Eventually he moved in on the other boy in the room, a prop to lean against, hold with impudence, and cling to.

He took in the sight of them together with a long, satisfied sigh, then nipped Eles’s ear before moving to finish off his rather oversized drink. “Aamazing, fantastic. Whatever possessed you?”

They had about thirty minutes until the curtains drew back, but Malory was apparently in no rush.

“Death Becomes Her, the musical!" He adjusted the hat that did look very cute on him with a smile pleased enough to flash dimples as he glanced over to Eles in the mirror. They would certainly be noticed, but who knew what the other theatergoers would assume? Deviants banned from the renfaire? Anime enthusiasts? Or perhaps the bleeding edge of the next Big Thing, which Malory heavily favored. If they were hot enough and confident enough, who knew what socialite might be wearing this hat next week? Which talent would be seen walking a mile in Eles’s rather excellent shoes?

“One more drink and then we’ll go,” Malory decided, pulling out his phone and lifting it for a selfie with his boy. “Musicals are best watched when slightly wasted. Though do try not to drink anything out of anybody else’s mouth this time.” A pause, “Except mine of course. You have permission to take anything out of my mouth that isn’t firmly attached.” An important caveat.

The driver did not look too closely at them in such a way, that Malory knew they’d be haunting her stories and maybe her dreams for days to come. He made sure to give her a good tip and his phone number on a little black card. It was less of a pick up and more of a way to make sure her baffled discomfort lingered even longer, had a name to put to a memorable face.

Knowing the theater street was a ******** as far as traffic went, he had her drop them off at a nearby park, only about a ten minute walk and they’d be right on time, which meant a little bit late, but nothing too notable. With a soft clack of bracelets, he took Eles’s hand to swing between them. His ribs still hurt if he bent too much, laughed too hard, or slept on his side, but overall Malory was feeling better than he had in awhile.

Maybe not quite up to meeting Eles’s husband just yet, but he was sure that he could survive…well, escape the consequences of his actions if push came to shoving himself through the nearest mirror. “You look so good in plastic,” he commented, bobbing further and then closer, grinning into the other boy’s ear rather than the intended ear.

“You should have gone for knee high socks, though. The sporty kind. Highlight your calves.” And he could slip his fingers under them in a show of rather Catholic perdition.

Blythly crossing from the park, heedless of checking for traffic, Malory spun out and pulled Eles into a basic swing step, singing out, “He could get a tongue ring~!” And then spun them both back onto the sidewalk.

“He cooould get a tongue ring,” He sang again, lower this time, backing Eles against a brick storefront. “He should let me see what he’s working with~!” Two fingers reached up to press into that mouth, pull down against teeth and shining, wet lip.

Thoroughly distracted with manhandling his boy, ready to consider all the fine uses Eles would put such a tongue to, Malory didn’t notice the noise that approached. Or the long shadow that prowled close.

Being jerked around a bit caused first a rather pleased huff and smile, quickly replaced by petty irritation when he saw that they were being interrupted. And that his leg had nearly been interrupted by rows upon rows of teeth.

Now it was Malory’s turn to once again to tug at the other boy, the two of them running and stumbling toward the alley only a building away. Henshin pen coming to hand as soon as they were, relatively, out of sight, the transformation into Hybris was, as always, a quiet piece of drama. Of becoming.

Hands on hips, he first tried shoo-ing the youma that followed them. “See, I’m not easy meat, so go…go find a child or something. There’s a convent…or I guess a girl’s school nearby.” Out came the bag of churu’s. One by one he tossed them past Eles and at the creature, “I’m sure they’re super delicious!”

He was pretty sure, with the combination of senshi strength and jumping power, he could kick the thing into a fine paste along the brick wall. But kicking a youma just seemed so mean, and sad. Plus he didn’t want Eles to get any misconceptions about fighting prowess or anything like that.

Seeing the youma’s spit begin to smoke and hiss where it hit the pavement, Hybris decided that this youma could, perhaps, be given the football treatment. But he wasn’t exactly sure he;d survive getting that close. What if it hit his face? And Eles was very under dressed for acid to be only a moderately funny thing to tease him about later. Skittering back a few steps, tugging Eles further into the alley with him, Hybris decided it was either time to see if the roof was in jumping range or…

Or. He looked at Eles again, eyes going deep and seeing beyond his boy, seeing a smaller, fiercer figure that had been so thoroughly swallowed and outshone by Eles. Hybris felt something…new, and different within the magic at his beck and call.

And so, he pulled that figure out. Fineboned in crimson and ebony, a stare like a ring of fire, and a crown of molten hate. The alley lit up with a terrible, fiery presence and the shadows he cast were long, and deep. <******** OFF.” The authoritative snarl, the promise of death and worse ripped through the air in a voice that Hybris had only truly heard once, but had haunted both dream and nightmare for long after.

Watching the creature tuck its teeth back into its skin suit and scamper off, Hybris decided it was cute again. Also very cute was Eles's huffing ire that he hadn't gotten a chance to beat the poor thing to death with a pipe. With an uncharacteristic smile, the spectre of the general king let go of the boy's hand, opting instead to reach out to grip his face for a swift kiss.

With perverse delight, he let go and agreed, "You're right. I'm so at a loss when it comes to fighting, you know." And finally, the magic began to slip off, returning him once more to Hybris. "Next time there's a call for a fight, you lead, I'll follow." Or at least hide from a safe distance. And then Hybris was gone as well, leaving only one Malory Medraut, dressed to impress.

Shudders of quiet laughter kept welling up in Malory, for the reaction, the accusation, and of course that cleansing kiss. It was only the mention of time that kept him from chasing the kiss back, play tag you’re it in the dark of the alley. With a fussy groan at the back of his throat and nodded, “Just a little. Come on, there’s still time to make sure our box gets wine service.”

Swinging their hands between them once more, Malory still couldn’t quite let it go. “You know he had a husband, right? That twelve year old?” And the had was intentional, because sometimes Malory just liked to hurt or upset people. And even if they never heard or knew enough to actually be upset, he still enjoyed the thought of it.

“His name is Araullo and he loves his missing husband so much that he’s going crazy. Or maybe he was crazy in the first place.” Bumping up against the other boy’s bony shoulder he added, smile entirely smug, “He think’s Faustite’s ’one of the most beautiful people in the world.’”