made entirely for misao D8 blame her for everything for she plotted it!
warning: ooc, cursing, the death of a butterfly, miiinor AUishness (coughjealouscough)
inspiration: misao C8 and "funky town" )8 aaand "the happy song"...shuuuush D8
reason: cuz it must be doooone!
rating: T (listed as M simply cuz of vice's mouth)
pairing: nooone~!
summary: childhood: a time of innocence and joy and learning, a time most adults looked back on fondly. for one robotic child though, childhood was more along the lines of staring down a hundred story drop while someone bitched and whined about how it wasnt fair he got to jump first.
disclaimer: i own NOTHING~
onwaaaard!!! (runs into wall that is my shame) X.x
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllol
Childhood: a time of innocence and joy and learning, a time most adults looked back on fondly. For one robotic child though, childhood was more along the lines of staring down a hundred story drop while someone bitched and whined about how it wasn't fair he got to jump first. Naturally, he ignored the complaining, because eventually Jealous would find something else to whine about and leave him to his attempted suicide.
But what would bring a child to this? Surely nothing warranted jumping. They must have never met his brother, he thought bitterly. For him, the answer was simple: Ultimo. Yes, he LOOKED adorable, with sparkling bubbly green eyes and perfectly fluffed up bright red trolley hair, but Vice knew otherwise. Beneath the thin body, past the whirring gears and tubes and juuust in the crook of a glowing orb lay an evil beyond anything else. Vice could see it in the sugary curved smiles, the cheery voice.
Usually, he saw it in the form of his favorite toy being smashed across his skull. The toy itself was a bright red firetruck, the color reminiscent to the orphans he killed to acquire it. Loosely spinning black wheels meant it could easily glide across the carefully polished one hundredth floor of the pagoda. Truly, it was the best toy he had so far, a trophy of his first evil deed. When he'd first returned with it, he showed it off to Jealous, who stared at it with bubbly eyes and asked if he could play with it. Of course, Vice was still the evil child.
"Hmm....well..." he drawled, watching the sparkles increase by the moment in his brother's eyes.
"Please?? It looks sooo cool and-"
"Well then I guess....never~." he sang, a wicked grin forming at the instant deflation of Jealous.
It was five minutes into the whining that their "good" brother (He's the epitome of evil dammit! Vice hissed mentally.) noticed the glossy toy. Ignoring the curious bubbly eyes, which annoyed him to no end, the darker haired boy hummed and rolled the truck a few times. Every now and then, when he thought he was being sneaky, a blue and pink clawed hand attempted to snatch the truck, followed by the inevitable whine when he failed due to a sudden swerve of the wheels. Each time, Vice snickered to himself.
"That looks cool..." came a high pitched voice, quiet in awe.
Gold eyes flashing up to glare at the redhead, Vice swerved the toy away, avoiding a blue claw at the same time that had reached for it. "It is. Its really really cool." he sang, grinning.
A blunt red claw tapped Ultimo's lip, eyes bubbly, and he glanced up from the truck. "Could...I play to?"
Jealous glared darkly and went into ten reasons why he was first on the list to play with the truck after Vice, but neither listened. "In your dreams." the darker boy spat.
The neon green that surrounded the distinct red glow of Ultimo's eyes darkened, and while he still remained adorable, the two boys noticed a familiar glimmer. As if a goody two shoes would do anything, Vice thought, rolling his eyes. Next to him, his whiny sibling snickered, hiding a cruel grin behind his blue gauntlet. Snapping his gaze on the blue and pink Douji, the redhead scowled darkly.
Ignoring his siblings, Vice continued to play, avoiding the attempted thefts, and purposely scuffing up the floor. This had gone on for a few days, their creator appearing before them every now and then. He spared them little more than a glance, his hands filled with papers and his head undoubtedly plotting something or other. Whatever it was, was of little concern to the three boys. Their primary caretaker, a strange person with purple hair that trailed long down their back, usually watched them with a bored expression.
Every now and then, said caretaker would mutter strange words as they scrubbed at the scuffed floor boards. Once or twice, when they bent over a bit to far, they'd grasp their stomach and swear. Blinking, Vice repeated the word in his mind a few times, finding he liked the way the f sounded. He liked it so much in fact, he began to figure out ways to use it in his speech more often.
Later that night, started the evil that was Ultimo. Oho, I bet you totally thought I forgot all about that plot didn't you? The new word was but a subplot! A subplot I say! The Douji were usually wide awake at night, choosing to play when their caretaker was sound asleep. The novelty of the new toy had worn off, but it was always amusing to see Jealous attempt to snatch it, so Vice continued playing with it. There wasn't much else to do anyway.
The purple boy was just about to attempt his theft again, which would have been avoided anyway, when a quiet voice cut through the squeaking of tires and whines. The two evil Douji glanced up, instantly glaring when they saw who it was. The redheaded boy shuffled a little, dropping to his knees gracefully and glared at the two. The way his lower lip stuck out however made it seem more like a pout.
"I want to play with the truck to!" he said loudly.
This evoked a series of snickers, lacking the whines that usually came up the moment Ultimo asked to play. Eye twitching a little, but otherwise undeterred, the redhead held out a red claw. "So let me play to please!"
"Why the fuck should I?" came the response, and a sudden hush went over the deck.
Ultimo stared with wide eyes, horrified and Jealous stared in awe. He was the first to speak. "Ohh whats that word! It sounds cool!"
"Thats an awful word! You shouldn't say it!" the redhead cried, scooting away from the bubbly boy.
"Why the fuck shouldn't I say fuck?" Vice snapped, grinning at the way the redhead flinched and backed away a little. "Does it fucking offend you?"
A childish pout rose to Ultimo's face, nose scrunching, and without really thinking it out, the truck was snatched quickly. Before Vice could really process that his toy had been snatched away, it was firmly smashed across his face, jarring his vision and making black spots appear. He just sat there for a moment, the deck dead quiet for a long moment.
"Y-You shouldn't say that wooord!" the redhead whined, seemingly uncaring of the fact he'd just bashed his brother across the face.
And instantly, as if the spell was broken, Jealous launched into a rant. "Why do YOU get to hit him first! And why are you allowed to hit him anyway thats not fair!" he cried, shaking his claws up and down furiously.
It was the start of an outstanding hatred.
For the next week, the three were kept under a close watch. Dunstan couldn't have his creations destroy each other just yet after all, he reasoned. Little changed, aside from the strange glint that took over Ultimo's eyes, and the truck he now had in his possession. Jealous had tried to get the redhead to let him borrow it, but when threatened with the same treatment as Vice, who was still in shock, he backed off.
Then came Vice's new toy. After an hour of sulking, the boy had decided that pure evil didn't sulk. And while he didn't give a damn what his creator thought, the memory of being bitch slapped with a truck for a mere bad word stopped him from picking a fight in revenge. Instead, he left while their caretakers were busy, and returned with a butterfly. A butterfly that was tied to a string, unable to flee despite its large yellow wings. Truly this was far more amusing than a truck! After all, a truck wouldn't desperately attempt to get away, and slowly die. Ahh yes, this was so much better than a-
Moments after he'd brought it back, a ball went sailing past Vice's head, smashing into the butterfly and sending it and the ball spiraling down a hundred stories. Glancing at the now limp rope, and the shred of a wing that floated down to the floor, Vice stared in shock.
"I-I'm sorry!" came a nervous cry.
Snapping his gaze on the owner, Vice felt the undeniable urge to throttle the redhead. Ultimo stood a fair distance away, a blunt claw pressed against his down turned mouth, with those ridiculous bubbly eyes. Jealous, who stood next to Ultimo, glanced between the two and pointed a sharp blue claw and yelped, "He did it!"
Ultimo blinked quickly and looked at Jealous in confusion. Eye twitching, Vice raised a green claw jerkily to point furiously at the redhead. "You! You have some fuckin nerve! I spent ten fucking minutes just tying that thing and you fucking KILLED it!!" he shrieked, throwing down the string.
The redhead winced with each use of the word fuck, and waved his hands quickly. "N-No no, you've got it wrong! I didn't-"
"I swear I'll never fuckin forgive you! You and your god damned sparkly fucking eyes! I'LL MAKE YOU PAY!!!"
The boy's view was cut off abruptly by black, the vague sensation that someone had just bashed him over the head. Probably Ultimo, that bastard, he thought. He fell with a thud to the not nearly as well polished floor, Ultimo and Jealous watching in shock, the redhead flinching and raising an arm nervously in defense. Behind where Vice had been standing stood their creator, holding a club and humming.
"Cant have you two fighting yet. Its time to go after all." he said, and a shiver went down the two Douji's spines.
The next time they saw the light of day, it was when a burly man in battered clothing lifted off the lid of their containers.
oooooooooooooooooooooowaaaariii
woooow that failed C8 but who cares~ (i do!) *kills voice* anyone else~? no? ahaha....