Tren: Well, hello there to all you people!!
Aillas: They're called readers.
Tren: I KNOW THAT!!
Aillas: Freak.
Tren: So we're back to this story, the lovely little ditty about Lucas.
Aillas:… ditty….??... (worried)
Tren: What?? What's wrong with ditty?
Aillas: I can't take it anymore…
Tren: Hey… (suddenly proud of herself) little…. Ditty… they both have double T's!!
Aillas: …..
Tren: Cool! They almost rhyme!
Aillas: How much sugar have you had?
Tren: Only three sodas!!
Aillas: That would explain a few things… how about we move onto the story??
Tren: YAY!! (runs off at hyperspeed)
Aillas: Onto the storyline….
-An apology for the devil; it must be remembered that we have only heard one side of the case. God has written all the books- Samuel Butler
Clichés are often found in horror movies. The haunted church, the possessed little girl who can climb walls like some kind of freakish gecko, bats flying around at the arrival of the bad guy and those cheesy one liners. While most evil bad guys welcome such "old chestnuts", per say, there was one who hated it. Why? Because all those truisms started with him. It was all cool until people started to copy him, then next thing you knew, everybody was doing it and then it just became pathetic. This said person was currently in Japan, failing at getting some rest and relaxation, and at that moment under the alias of the name Lucas.
Currently, he was sitting inside a church, leaning back in an old wooden pew, his feet kicked up on the backrest of the seating in front of him. It was the only catholic church in the city, with a simple design that didn't boast much besides a steeple and a modest congregation. His arms crossed behind his head, he was currently staring at the crucifix nailed to the wall, (oh what a pun), his clear, icy blue eyes staring ahead with that same intensity, straight at the face of the savior, those carved eyes staring blankly ahead.
The choir could be heard practicing in the background, in some other room, their voices echoing eerily off the walls, the noise barely hindered by the tapestries scattered throughout. Heavy footfalls echoed off through the building before a man stopped at Lucas' pew.
"Would you mind keeping your feet off our furniture?" came the smooth voice in a quiet tone, as though he was trying to not break the fragile peace that had filled the church.
"I wouldn't really call this furniture, it isn't all the comfortable. Hell, I'm willing to bet that sitting here through an entire mass is enough to repent for each and every one of those sins," Lucas drawled, not budging an inch as he still stared up at the figure of Christ.
"If these pews became comfortable, people might fall asleep. And we'd like to keep them in good condition, so please remove your feet, my child," the speaker sighed and Lucas gave an odd sort of laugh.
"You should not have to make sitting painful to keep your congregation interested," Lucas reached down under the seat to find that there were bibles contained in small shelves under the wood. Pulling out of the thick, hard back tomes, he held it up in front of his face, flicking through the pages one handed.
"Sadly, religion is not as interesting as it once was," the man chuckled as Lucas tossed the bible behind him.
"Bah, same of predictable storyline," he muttered, "And when religion ruled the world, it was called the dark ages. You should remember that."
"Perhaps you have not read the bible enough to learn its meanings," the man offered, and Lucas groaned.
"Save it, Padre, and it wouldn't matter how many times I read that book, I already have it committed to my memory."
"Then you must be very dedicated to Catholicism to have it all memorized," the man admitted, "Far more than I, though I hate to admit it."
Slowly looking over his shoulder, Lucas took a look over the other half of his conversation. He was a deacon, probably in his mid to upper thirties. Well groomed, he was Japanese, his black hair just starting to gray at the temples and was cut short, his bangs falling softly around his face. Square glasses hid his dark eyes, the candle light reflecting off them as he pressed them up his nose. Dressed in a pair of khaki slacks and a loose red button down shirt, a cross was hanging from a chain around his neck and resting against the cloth. A wedding ring glinted from one finger.
"Nothing to be ashamed of, that book is tedious, wordy and biased," Lucas waved his hand, the chain bracelets clashing together against the black manacle still clamped against his pale skin.
"How is it biased?" the deacon asked, leaning up against the back of the pew, cocking an eyebrow at the man.
"You only hear one side," Lucas replied, pushing his hair out of his eyes and sighing.
"And whose side is the bible missing?" the man asked, looking over the man cautiously. He didn't look frightening, dressed in a crisp black suit, silver grey vest and white oxford shirt, and undone silk tie hanging limply from his neck. In fact, the man's skin was so pale he seemed to glow in the candle light, giving off little warmth, his soft blonde hair pulled way from his face neatly into a ponytail, tied with a thin ribbon so dark, the man swore that it could have been made of pure shadow. Slowly, the man looked over, a cool grin spreading across his perfect features and the deacon couldn't help but shiver. The man's blue eyes suddenly seemed to glow, and though he didn't know if it was his imagination or if it was real, but he could have sworn that the man's pupil's were black flames, blazing with a kind of anger.
"What side is the bible missing, you ask? Mine," Lucas laughed, his eyes burning with amusement before he looked back at the crucifix. "Do you know what's droll? Every time people see that figure, they revere it, they worship Jesus Christ… but the moment they see somebody like him on the street, begging for change, they guard their purses and ignore him. How hypocritical."
A chill spread through the deacon, as he stared in horror at the man before him. It made sense now, who this figure was, why he seemed to glow and he suddenly felt way over his head. Clutching at the cross at his neck, he wanted to leave, but felt compelled to stay.
"That silly trinket of yours, that necklace has no power over me, so don't make a fool of yourself. And before you scream at me that Christ compels me, I'm not here to anything but relax and listen to the choir rehearse," Lucas returned his smoldering gaze back to figure nailed upon the cross and sighed.
"You should not be able to even enter," the man replied defensively, crossing his arms at the dark clad man lounging next to him.
"Bah, what did you expect, the church to fall apart? The pews to crack, the crucifix to fall upside down, the statues to cry blood?? Would that make you happy? Personally, it would just make a miserable mess, and WHO would clean it?" he asked, looking rather frankly at the deacon. "Would you clean it, Fujitaka?"
Surprised, the man visibly started. Smoothing his clothes a bit, it didn't keep him from being a bit scared.
"Did you think I wouldn't know your name? I know everything about you," Lucas droned, waving his hand modestly.
"Should I be honored or scared?" Fujitaka joked, trying to ease his terror with a light humor.
"Neither really, I know that you have a scar in the middle of your left knee because you fell off your bike when you were late to class in the tenth grade. I know that you still have the holes in your ears from those piercing in college, which is why you keep your hair just shaggy enough to hide them."
"What don't you know??" he laughed,
"Not much, you're even wear red underwear, boxer briefs, which is rare because you find them uncomfortable, but they were you last pair and your wife is currently doing the laundry at home," Lucas added airily.
"Why do you know so much?"
"Because I have to… You don't seem as afraid as you used to, care if I ask why? I build my rep upon being terrifying, so your input would be greatly appreciated."
"You don't seem to be that frightening… I understand who you are, but there's something… sad about you," the man sighed, shaking his head as Lucas made a face.
"Bah…," his nose wrinkled in distaste, he sighed and ran his hands through his smooth hair. "What do I have to be sad about?"
"Perhaps because you fell from grace?" the man ventured playfully, before pushing himself off the back of the pew and straightening his clothes.
"Hm… think whatever you might like," Lucas shrugged, "Have a lovely day, Fujitaka."
The Deacon left, hands clasped behind his back, heading out to his car to drive back home and see his wife. Left sitting in those uncomfortable benches, Lucas for once felt speechless. What was with him?? Was he losing his touch? Where were those good old days when a mere mention of his true name could strike fear into the hearts of every person, God fearing or not? Now look at him, sitting in a church, not even able to scare a Deacon. To be honest, he blamed television. All the violence and crap, and what's worse, all those shows that gave any idiot with a cross and some holy water the idea that they too could take him on.
Whose idea was that!?
Oh… that's right… it was his…
"What are you looking at!?" he spat at the carved crucifix, glowering off until his eyes settled on the candles burning at the altar. Odd, most churches used the battery powered ones now. It seemed rather funny to him now to see the old styles still alive and kicking.
"If you're expecting a response, it won't come. They've turned a deaf ear on you," a voice replied sharply, making Lucas turn around to see that the man who interrupted his fight with spirit detectives was standing the doorway. Golden hair pulled back away from his perfect face, his eyes smoldered, and the color was something that couldn't really be described, as all mortal words failed. Dressed in a soft cream long sleeve shirt and khaki pants, he didn't look as imposing as he had in the forest, what with the jacket and sword gone, the kick arse boots replaced by sensible, dark brown dress shoes.
"What a horrible change of clothes for you," Lucas lamented playfully, rather like cat would to its prey. He had already tempted this creature before; he could do it again, this time with far more success.
"Unlike some people, I choose not to stick to the melodramatic outfits unless I'm working," he replied, his cutting through the silence like a warm knife through butter, only smoother, making Lucas shiver slightly, as though he could feel the ripples resonating from each word.
"How is it melodramatic when I am the origin of it all? This is merely who I am," Lucas replied humbly, bowing, his arms stretched out to put himself on display, though his cold eyes never left the perfect specimen in that doorway.
"And who are you today?" that voice making Lucas sigh in enjoyment and agony, each word pure enough to make his back ache heavily, along with the rest of him.
"Simply myself."
"What alias are you doing on now? Louis Cypher last time I met you. When will you give up, we know you are in pain from your deeds."
"While it might pain me to do evil, it is better than serving for eternity. I do believe one human wrote "Tis better to rule in Hell than Serve in Heaven". Couldn't put it better myself. I suggest you leave or you might just put me in a bad mood," Lucas snarled the last part, though he knew if it came down to a fight, he would beat the man hands down, though the term "man" was used lightly. No… the thing in the doorway was far more…
"What a sad creature you have become," the man muttered, looking down upon him rather superciliously before turning around to leave.
"And what a pathetic messenger boy you've become," Lucas responded harshly as the man's aura diminished as he walked away, unfazed by anything around him. Spreading his own spiritual force a little more, rather defensively, he glared off, inadvertently making every prayer candle snuff out. Looking out through the stain glass windows he frowned slightly. The world was asleep, unaware that he was currently in their country. Perhaps it was better that way.
"What are you doing here?" a sharp voice asked him, breaking the silence and Lucas was surprised to have found out that he had been spacing out for quite a while as the church was now empty and dark. Not even bothering to look over Lucas smiled slightly.
"Hiei, what are you doing in a church?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" came the response, curt as usual.
"I do my best work in churches," Lucas replied loftily, tapping his long fingers against the colored glass depicted the Virgin Mary receiving the news that she is to carry the savior. Jesus Christ on a freakin' cracker.
"You disgust me."
"I do that to a lot people… Of course, where would you be without me??" Lucas trailed off the last part, knowing he didn't need to continue for his point to be seen.
"…"
"Cat got your tongue?? Don't act like you got here all on your own," he continued, letting his fingers linger on the glass and watching the frost spread from the tip of each pale finger, his body drawing away any warmth.
"This skill is my own."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night. Imagine my surprise to find that you, the all powerful Hiei, yet you owe me so much," his voice was almost like a purr, his fingers leaving frost against the glass. Despite popular belief he wasn't all fire and brimstone, and his hands always retained all the warmth of a cadaver.
"…" There was silence and he could imagine the hatred in the small demon's red eyes but it really didn't matter to Lucas who started to blow out the candles one by one, each offered in prayer.
"Imagine my surprise to run into your friends, I don't think they like me very much," he drawled, trying to keep on a pleasant conversation as the lights began to dim and the church closed for the night.
"I wonder why."
"I have never been a bad guy… after all, evil is completely relative. You can't say I don't have my reasons. Of course, it's not like I got to tell my side of the story in the book they wrote… rubbish, really," he shook his head in disgust and then realized that there were no more candles lit besides the one stating that holy sacrament was still in church.
"To be honest, I never really get my side out, ever. Humans try… and fail, but what the hell, that's all they ever seem to do."
"Try?"
"No. Fail."
Tren: Alright, writers block has consumed my dreary mind. Sorry it took so long to post this, so… yeah….
Aillas: She's lost all inspiration. (shakes head) Shame, really.
Tren: (Glares) And WHAT were you doing, oh muse of mine?!?
Aillas: (rolls eyes) Do you really expect me to be an enthusiastic muse?? You abuse me.
Tren: YOU CAN'T DIE!! YOU CANT CLASSIFY THAT AS ABUSE!!
Aillas: Oh yes I can!
Tren: Let's just answer those reviews!!!
Aillas: Yes, lets.
-Niana Kuonji: Yes, he was getting along with Shizuru but Kuwabara will always be the bungling idiot who gets in the way. And you'll see how much better he's feeling next chapter once he's had his fun with Hiei. He's juuuuuuuuust started, and yes… drowned rat would describe him adequately.
-Sugar High Water Uma: Why are you calling the Lucas plushie Bob? And thanks, I thought it flowed pretty well myself too!
Psyco Anime Luver: Wow… you almost feel bad!! Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.
Sinor: YAY!!! I love that song myself and just had to make a fanfic dedicated, in a way, to it.
Sabs: Right.
Tren: So let me know, did I do well on this chapter??
Aillas: Or should she re-write and submit it??
Tren: If possible, any suggestions??
Aillas: Thanks and cheerio until the next chapter!!