Marco Diaz does not frighten easily.
Not anymore.
Having lived through many reiterations of near death experiences has only improved his ability to survive; only, when it used to be his flight instinct urging him to flee to safety, it was now his fight instinct that helps him in his day to day basis of living with one of the most powerful wands in existence, and the princess who wielded it carelessly without abandon. A day never passes without destruction, or a learned lesson, or even a simple errand turned quest.
So for the record, Marco could honestly say his life does not need more excitement, thank you very much.
Aside from the odd (and usually destructive) adventures brought by his housemate, taking on more would be... too much for this human to handle. Would he be opposed to violence if the situation presented it? Nope. Does he consider all the unnatural disasters and conflicts as nuisances in his daily mundane life? Not really. But would he rather have a few days off in between? Definitely.
Which is why, if he didn't find himself blindfolded, gagged and tied to whatever hellish material he was sat at, he would've ranked this day as perfectly normal, counting the sentient sock incident from a few hours. Nothing like a Mackie Hand marathon, chomping down popcorn and drinking soda for a lazy day. Until he'd fallen asleep and woken up tied, of course.
It wasn't the first time he had been captured, and it might not be the last. Although if he had to rate it, this one would be his least favorite. The unmistakable scent of soil drifted in every direction, and being unable to see was uncomfortable. His eyes were open, of course, but it was full darkness that greeted him instead. If he had to guess, someone thought it would be necessary to blindfold him. Why though, was somewhat puzzling. If he'd already been asleep when he'd been captured, wouldn't the covering be ineffective?
Another thing that bothered him was the heat. He didn't know how long he'd been there, plunked on a chair or whatever hard surface he was sat at, but it was enough time for his body to produce enough sweat to soak through the outside of his white tee and onto one of his identical red hoodie.
His tongue felt like sandpaper, and his throat was parched, his thirst nagging at the back of his mind which strengthened the longer he stayed in what felt like a giant oven.
Straining his ears, he could barely make out the soft swish and crunch of fine land- perhaps sand; and something or someone pacing heavily in the near vicinity.
Careful not to make noise, he urged both legs to move. He jerked his arms forward, only to be met with a tight grip from whatever held him to his seat. The pacing from the distance grew to a halt. Eyes wide open in the darkness, Marco waited with bated breath. Crunch, swish, crunch went his unknown abductor, their steps slow and even as if taunting him. The noises drew closer. Marco's heart pounded as the suspense made him want to claw at his insides, though whether it was his flight instinct that filled him or his terror was up for debate.
"Oh, you're awake." His abductor said smoothly. The voice, a combination of suave and nonchalant, was familiar.
A warm feeling spread on both sides of his face, and the blindfold and gag melted away without leaving a trace. "Seriously?! You couldn't just call?"
With the initial brush of the soft heat that removed most of his obstruction, the dim, earthy walls of the underworld did not surprise him.
His captor in question stood pale in terms of purple, bright pink hair in disarray as if he had combed his hand through it multiple times. The ripped shirt and dark pants was the same as ever, but in place of the demon's normally cool assessing gaze was the mark of a tired man.
The demon's sunken eyes watched Marco, mouth gaping once or twice in resemblance to a fish, lost to an answer that never came.
Finally Marco had enough and gave a groan of frustration. "What now?"
Tom pursed his lips for another moment before speaking. "I need your help." It came out in a monotone, as if he'd practiced on how to not sound desperate.
"And tying me up is necessary?" Marco wriggled his hands against the binds in a blatant show of disapproval. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have some weird kink you need to work out. But maybe not on me."
The demon's eyes flashed white for a moment. "This is serious. Look, are you in or not?" The glare vanished and his pupils gained visibility again- but it only made the tiredness in them more imminent.
The same indignation flashed in Marco. "You're the one asking for my help. Maybe if you tell me what's happening," his eyes traced the torn scrolls and random books scattered around the floor, "and treat me like a person, I'll take you seriously. And can you let me go?!"
Tom rolled all eyes, then walked over to a near chair. Without a glance, he gave a single snap, and flames rose from nowhere and ate up the ropes holding the human.
Marco yelped as the heat caressed his extremities in passing, but breathed a sigh when all proved clear of injury. With a glance to his feet (you can never be too safe, really) and begrudging thoughts of approval, he faced his demon frienemie again.
Only to be faced with Tom practically sprawled on the poor chair.
Although he was technically free, Marco made no move to stand up. He eyed the demon warily.
The demon propped his head upright by resting his hands on his cheeks, and Marco got the sudden impression that Tom might fall over in a few minute if their conversation dragged on.
"Ready to listen?" Tom paused to yawn, then peered at the human through half-lidded eyes. "Or are you still butt hurt that I took you, unharmed, to a safe place where you can exit anytime?"
"You got me tied up literally a few seconds ago," Marco snapped, but the demon didn't notice as he was busy with another yawn, "and it wouldn't kill you to apologize."
Their eyes locked in a standstill, daring the other to look away, the demon then blinking as he noticed the other's expression. "Fine," Tom drawled. "Sorry that you always make it so easy for someone to capture you."
"Not what I want, but the effort is appreciated." Marco said quickly. The tell tale signs of a lecture seemed to follow, which he hoped to prevent, but Tom was already on a roll.
"Do you even have any defenses? Or at least wards outside your house?" The demon asked in a tone that implied all humans are stupid and beneath him.
Or Marco simply assumed the worst. He rolled his eyes. "Stop. You can shut up now."
"Tell you what, help me track down this... weird entity that's messing up with the flow of magic here, and I'll even teach you how to protect yourself. There's no way even you can mess up a few runes, so maybe I'll start with that.." He trailed off.
"I don't need you to do me any favor. How do I know you won't be using this opportunity to get closer to Star?"
Tom looked at him oddly. "Not everything I do is for Starship, you know."
"Blood moon ball? Mr. Candle?" The human said, unimpressed. "I could go on. You're not exactly the most trustworthy person here."
"I could be trustworthy if I wanted to." Tom grumbled. "And I can be decent. To humans. If that wasn't clear."
'Yes' equaled to easy. 'Yes' equaled trust. Tom didn't have the cleanest record when it came to dealing with Marco. Always angry. Controlling to a fault.
Yet Marco hesitated. Then again, this was the guy who disciplined himself when challenged. He admitted to having a problem, and while many would balk trying to do that simple confession, Tom took it a step farther and got himself help to improve. Still not the best person, but one who would swallow his pride to... for the one he...
"If I agree to help you," Marco took a deep breath, "Could you pretend that I'm Star?"
Tom blinked in a quick succession as if he couldn't believe what the other had said.
He stared. And stared. And stared.
And busted out laughing.
Marco, offended, felt his cheeks flush warm. "What?" The sudden rise of his voice did not help his fluster fade.
"Now who's got some issues to work out?" The words seemed involuntary, even as the demon choked on a laugh. The demon covered his mouth with arms encircling his front, but to no avail. Marco could clearly see he was shaking with laughter.
"Tom!" He tried, he really did. But instead of his voice sounding like a reprimand, it came out as an embarrassed whine. As it seemed that the demon had no intention of stopping, Marco grumbled to himself along the lines of, "where's the freaking exit?" Then turned to leave.
"Wait!" Tom forced out; his amusement fading to a mischievous glint in his eyes and a suppressed smile; lips pressed tightly together. "I'll apologize!"
"I stand by my demand."
The demon still looked too happy for his mood to be a coincidence. "Ah, so it's a demand now?"
"Are you aware that I usually come to court Star? Or maybe you do want me to come serenade you with a bouquet of flowers," The demon said.
"That's not what I meant! Couldn't you just pretend that maybe we don't hate each other?"
"Well it is ridiculous." Tom said. "Wait I changed my mind, its actually stupid-"
"Make fun all you want-"
"-Gladly" The demon interrupted.
"Tom!" Marco closed his eyes and took a calming breath. When he opened his eyes again, the demon did not seem to be at all bothered, or aware that Marco was seriously reaching his limit. "If I have to work with you, I don't want to be worrying that you'll melt my face off every few minutes. So treat me as you would Star. Not like the weird worship you do with her," Tom looked as if he wants to interrupt but Marco silenced him with a glare. "But you know. Maybe not plan my murder in every possible chance? Or at least restrain yourself from wanting to burn me into a crisp?"
Tom looked on with a blank stare, but at least the mocking was gone. Marco wondered what he was thinking.
Then Tom blinked, eyes turning to Marco with surprising intensity. "That's not unreasonable... So I guess you'll help me?"
Marco managed a faint smile, filing the other's focused, unnerving stare at the back of his mind to be forgotten. "Yeah."
The demon stood up suddenly, almost falling over in the process, to grab something. "Here." He tossed something- a stick? To the human.
Reflexively, Marco caught it in the palm of his hands. A rose?
Tom shrugged, leaning by a wall. "Even if we're faking, might as well do it right." And with that, the petals spouted flames, illuminating the unamused expression on Marco's face.