thenearshore | Be Careful What You Pray For [closed]

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Be Careful What You Pray For [closed]

Who: Snatcher and Zetta
When: February 10
Where: Where love goes to die -- Near Shore
What: Prayer 49!

As far as Snatcher is concerned, there's only one good thing to be said about the petty, trivial concerns being tossed his way: they were easy. Beneath him, really, the sort of thing he'd contract some poor sap into solving for him. This one, at least, has happened to come along at just the right time--an easy task he didn't mind putting his own personal spin on. With the holiday of love creeping closer and closer and his nausea at the whole thing getting worse and worse, the chance to do some real damage, to finally take his frustrations out on something was one he just couldn't pass up on.

Unfortunately, it seems this quick and easy prayer has caught the eye of another. Normally not a problem, but given Snatcher's plans for the unlucky soul... "Really? I'm going to have to share this? I can't just do it on my own?"

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Why did he always get the prayers some other lunatic had also noticed? Well... at least it wasn't Hibiki this time.

Zetta breathed a long slow sigh of frustration and relief both, which just raised questions about how he could breathe such things in the first place. "It's just as well. You're new, you don't know how things work. Besides, you'd probably screw it up anyway. But with my power behind you, we can do this properly."

"Oh yes, because this is a hard one. Stop a creep from hitting on some girl? Definitely not something I could handle on my own." Just who did this guy think he was?

Rhetorically, of course.

"All I have to do is lure the guy away and pop his head off. Problem solved." He paused a moment, a thought occurring to him. "Though maybe I should get her to sign off on it first." Literally. Get a nice, hard figure attached to that tithe in writing so he could rub it in her face if she forgot to pay up.

"See, you're screwing it up already," Zetta said, with the arrogant confidence of one who believed himself unassailably right. "Murder is a solution that causes more problems in this case! You do something like that and everybody's giving you the eyeball. Then they're all, 'we gotta stop that evil guy' and stuff. If you want to advance your agenda, you gotta play it cool till the time is right."

One glowing eye twitched. "Screwing it up?" Like he hasn't been at this for ages back home? How was it supposed to be his fault if some fool didn't know to read the classics before they asked Mephistopheles for help?

Snatcher shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and filed that particular grudge away for later. Business first.

"All right, Mr. Overlord, then what do you propose?"

The book leaned back slightly, the better to laugh out a proper Overlord laugh at full force.

"Hyaaaha ha ha ha ha! Simple! We torment the poor fool in ways that are humiliating and petty!"

Well. He was good at that. And it would probably provide more entertainment than just killing him outright.

Ugh. Snatcher had been hoping the book wouldn't be right.

"You know what? Fine. I'll bite. Making him live in shame sounds kind of fun!" Spotting a waiter nearby, he zipped over and plucked a drink off his tray.

"I'm thinking a classic to start off with: a spill on the crotch."

"Hyaaaha ha ha ha ha! A clear winner!" Now they were talking Zetta's language -- and Snatcher was speaking it fluently. "Did you get something with alcohol? It's better if that smell clings to him, it makes all of his behavior seem worse."

Snatcher paused and took a quick sniff of the drink. "Smells like a soda to me. Hold on." He zipped off and returned with a carafe of sake--small, but nice and easy pour, easier to claim as an accident than an entire bottle of beer. "Here we are! And there it goes!"

Hovering over the man (and looking incredibly pleased with himself), Snatcher promptly upended the carafe onto the man's lap. His horrified cries and frantic attempts to dry his jeans with a napkin were music to his ears.

Zetta's too! A perfect shot, and practically begging for a follow-up. Which would be easy, he considered, as the man shot to his feet and made for the bathroom.

"Ever backed up a toilet before?" Zetta asked Snatcher as his minion carried him after the guy.

"Not in a long time, but I can improvise!" He followed after Zetta, grabbing a few cloth napkins from unbussed tables as he went. Man, how long had it even been? It wasn't like there were that many toilets in his forest. One less now that that possessed outhouse was gone.

Possessed outhouse? Residential code in the forest must be pretty lax.

Not bothering with napkins, Zetta's minion had no sooner stepped in the room than she cracked open the paper towel dispenser and grabbed the whole roll out, then started cramming them into the urinals. Their mark had ducked into a stall, the better to drop his pants and try to blot them, leaving him utterly unaware.

...Huh. He'd forgotten that was an option. It really had been ages since he'd bothered with bathrooms, hadn't it? "Oh! We should add the toilet paper too!" He sounded almost giddy as he clasped his hands in front of himself. "Sure, those other people might not necessarily deserve it, but it'd be hilarious!"

"Toilet paper goes in the toilets." Obviously! That way they jammed the toilets AND left those desperate enough to try to use them bereft of wiping material. "Then we flush them. All."

Taking the form of a few of Zetta's minions, Snatcher made his way into each open stall, pulled the toilet paper from its plastic prison, and promptly slam dunked it into each and every toilet.

A single claw of each separate Snatcher remained poised over the lever, golden eyes glinting evilly as they spoke in unison. "On the count of 3?"

Okay, that was a bit disturbing. Not the action itself, Zetta had seen weirder and creepier, but the way Snatcher copied his minions. Making a mental note to check on his copyrights and patents, Zetta sent his own pair to position themselves next to the urinals.

"1... 2..."

"3!"

The synchronized flush came as a deafening roar, punctuated by Snatcher's laughter as he recombined into his familiar, ghostly form outside the stalls to watch the rushing water rise and spill over the sides in a glorious, awful waterfall.

The waterfall was all the better for not actually involving too much poo that could flow over and threaten his minion's feet. As it is, they had to move back towards the door as the wave slopped out from beneath the stall.

The agonized scream made it all worthwhile, though. The stall door banged open, then their victim stumbled out, waistband of his soaked pants clutched in one hand.

And Snatcher knew exactly what to do with this. Summoning a thin rope into his hand, he rushed forward and tied one end to one of the man's belt loops, holding tight to the other end.

Not expecting the sudden jerk, never once noticing the rope, he let go of the waistband as he stumbled forward, pantsed and lying in a growing puddle of toilet water.

Snatcher sighed happily. "This may be one of the best days I've had in years."

"Damn! I was going to trip him." Or a minion, but they're extensions of his mana power, so it worked out the same.

Still, there was only one possible recourse now. Zetta's primary minion whipped out his cell phone and began taking pictures.

"We'll send a couple to the chick, in case he decides to go for try number two."

"Oh, and a few to him!" Snatcher added eagerly, hands clasped in front of him. "He can either tithe to us or find these pictures posted to every popular message board we can find!" Because what was life without a little blackmail?

"Well, yeah, that's why only a couple to her." Zetta glanced over to the door, trying to read the situation. "I get the feeling this'll do it for him, though. If he doesn't try to make a break without being seen, I'll be shocked."

"Right, right." He'd forgotten he was dealing with someone who actually knew what they were doing. It was still a shame that the guy was breathing, but hey! Snatcher had still gotten all the catharsis that he'd wanted and a job well done to boot!

"You know, this has the potential to be a profitable relationship. Next time you need a little mischief done, let me know. I'll write up a contact for you!"

"Contract?" Zetta glanced over at Snatcher, instantly suspicious, as one was as a demon whenever contracts were invoked. "That's how you operate, huh?"

"Lawyer, remember? What can I say, I like having a paper trail!" And it helped that his new contracts had more punch to them, too. Ah, the wonders of magic. "It's not that bad. You just need to know how to negotiate."

"I prefer to enforce my arrangements by sheer awesomeness and the raw dangers of going back on me," Zetta said, puffing himself up with ego. To be fair, it was pretty legit under most circumstances. "And for now, there's always the Sacred Tome here."

Man, was he missing out. There was just something so satisfying about being able to sue for breach of contract shortly before you killed the traitorous fool (especially since killing someone who lacked a soul didn't technically count as murder).

"You do look heavy enough to knock someone out if thrown."

Zetta didn't enjoy lawsuits! Zetta enjoyed being badass!

"Oh ha ha. Seriously, this is a cosmic keystone. What's written in it becomes true."

"Really?" Now that was worth paying attention to. "What's the catch?"

"You need enough mana power to fuel the wish, or else it extracts what it needs from your soul and kills you." And sometimes even 'enough' wasn't enough, and the very act of writing the wish would result in that kind of destruction even if the wish came about. Luckily, as an Overlord, he could ask for literally anything... if only he could write in it himself.

Snatcher made a face. "Right. I think I'll stick with contracts and leave any potential soul devouring in my own hands, thanks. Remind me to never use you as stationery."

Hyaaaha ha ha ha ha! Now that they knew who the real big dog here was, apparently, by Zetta's standards, he could be even more satisfied!

Snatcher's phone buzzed as the pictures came over.

"That should do it."

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Be Careful What You Pray For [closed]

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Local doofus takes several days to realize she replied in the wrong spot

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