Their next mission was located in Sléttborg. It was a pretty city; its infrastructures and buildings were smooth, as if constructed of magic with care. It was a nice enough place, where its climate was neither too cold nor too hot. Its residents were largely welcoming, and there certainly wasn't a chance of getting kidnapped or some such.
They let Gilbert drive.
It was a huge mistake.
He was a maniac on the wheel; he would've gotten more than a couple speeding tickets, had there been any officers in sight. They couldn't do anything to dissuade him from driving so fast, but eventually, even Arthur, who could argue for hours on end, dropped the issue and only occasionally kicked the seat.
Gilbert, of course, had no idea why they were so concerned. "I'm driving just fine! You're all just not awesome enough to recognize my superior driving skills!" Never mind that he had run over a cactus, a cat's tail, a bucket, a cookie, and what looked suspiciously like lingerie; he was clearly the best driver in existence. Too bad no one would acknowledge that.
Matthew's legs curled up to his chest and his head was pressed against his knees, his arms around around his shins, honestly fearing for his life every time there was a bump on the road. Alfred wasn't much better; he clung to Arthur after the shorter man had refused to let him crawl into the relative safety of the trunk. Every time Arthur nudged him away, he scooted back, his grip tighter than before, so Arthur did his best to ignore it.
All throughout the trip, Gilbert either sang in his worst singing voice, or kept up a mostly one-sided conversation with them about the most inane of things. For example, he made an entire ten minute chat about how much he could really go for a beer, with the only replies being, "Shut up" or "Just drive."
When they finally arrived at the hotel they were to stay at, Alfred leaped away from Arthur and fumbled with opening the opposite door, even before the vehicle came to a stop. When he got it open, he unbuckled his seatbelt and literally fell to the ground. Matthew sat there for a while, feeling sick, before staggering out, clutching his stomach. Arthur calmly walked out, running a hand through his messier-than-usual hair. Gilbert rolled out, coming to a kneel in a spy movie position, his right hand curled in a fist, save for his index finger, and his left hand was out to the side, spread, just in case he was going to tilt that way and, you know, fall and dislocate his shoulder and possibly bash his head on the hard ground, which might result in a concussion.
"Gilbert," Matthew said through gritted teeth, "you are never driving again."
"Ever," Alfred added, sitting up. "It was the most horrific two hours of my life."
Arthur rubbed his eyes. "I'm just glad we didn't have to stop because some people were having an impromptu love confession." His gaze went immediately to Matthew and Gilbert, indicating who he meant, but they didn't notice.
Gilbert looked at him coolly, straightening up from his crouch. "You mean you and Al? Oh, yes, it would have been rather traumatizing, but I doubt I would have to pull over because of your steamy ardor. Birdy and I would've just ignored you." He paused. "Okay, so I might glance back once or twice, but just for the sake of curiosity."
Alfred came to his feet and smirked at him over the car roof. "Want some tips, Gilbo?"
"No―" He paused, realizing what implications his answer could have, and sneered at the blue-eyed blond. "Shut up, Alfredo sauce."
Matthew sighed. "Can we just go into the hotel already to drop off our stuff?" His voice was weak, and while he didn't look as though he might keel over at the slightest breeze, he looked as if he was about ready to puke. He decided that it must have been Gilbert's driving "skills" and not something he had eaten.
"Well, who's going to get our room key?" Gilbert piped in, seeming to be completely fine as they walked into the hotel.
"I will." Arthur said, glancing at Matthew and Alfred, both looking as though they needed to puke- and fast. "I am the most fit and responsible one out of all of us. And you, Gilbert," Arthur added in warning, stabbing his finger into Gilbert's direction, "don't. Do. A. Thing."
Gilbert, of course, promptly ran to the nearest wall next to him and smashed over a vase.
Arthur groaned. Gilbert gave an innocent grin.
"That will be 20 silvers, sir." A blond woman, looking immaculate in her dark blue suit, gave a bright, plastic-like smile. Arthur fished in his pockets and managed to pull out a couple. She pocketed it and walked away, not teetering over her 4-inch high black stilettos.
"Alfred, watch him-" Arthur stopped mid-sentence as he saw that Alfred was slowly growing green. "Okay, forget about that. Alfred, go and puke in the toilet stall." Alfred gave a half-hearted mock salute and ran off into the washroom. "Matthew, you stay." Matthew was sneaking off to the washroom as well, but stopped. He groaned. He didn't look as bad as Alfred, but still looked quite weak in the knees. He slumped down on a plush chair. "Watch him." It was an order, not a request. Matthew grumbled.
"Yes, mom." Arthur spluttered, and gave him a glare. He walked off towards the clerk, scuffing his boots against the marble floor as he went.
"Hey, Gilbert-" Matthew turned around, and noticed that the albino had already left. He sighed. This whole thing felt too cliche-movie ending to him. He absentmindedly wondered whether or not to chase after him when Alfred re-appeared, looking a lot better already.
"Hi, bro." Matthew greeted.
"Hey, Mat." Alfred looked around. "Where'd your lover go?"
"Who?" Matthew questioned, before finally registering what he meant. He opened his mouth to correct him, but a figurative lightbulb flashed above his head. "Oh, you mean Arthur?" He turned his head to look at Arthur, purposely acting as though he were checking him out. "Oh, yes, he's quite..." He let the sentence trail off, his eyebrows raising.
Alfred gaped at him, his mouth forming a little 'o' of surprise. He was slow in regaining his composure. "W-what have you done to him?"
Matthew smirked evilly. "Let me rephrase that for you: what haven't I done?"
"Nooo!" Alfred looked as though he might gag. "I can't even trust my own brother anymore!"
He rolled his eyes before punching Alfred lightly on the arm in a just-kidding kind of way. "Anyway, Gilbert ran off. I dunno where to. And Arthur just told me to watch him, too." Matthew pushed his bangs back warily. Alfred looked from Arthur to him, and then back at Arthur. "Fine. Ditch me for Artie. It's totally cool."
There was a moment of hesitation, but Alfred gave a big smile. "Thanks, bro! Knew I could count on you!" He gave Matthew a slap on the back, which almost made Matthew fall down. Alfred ran over to Arthur in a ridiculous way, sort of how children ran when their parents had candy for them.
"Birdy!" Matthew looked up, about to glare, until something was shoved into his hands. Matthew looked down, and saw that it was...
"Water?" Matthew said, surprised.
"Yeah. It's for you." Gilbert said, laughing casually enough, but it had a bit of an anxious edge to it. "Since Arthur's making you baby-sit me instead of puking your guts out, as you should right about now, I figured this is the least I could do for you."
Matthew felt, oddly enough, touched. "Thanks, Gil."
"Anything for you, birdy."
Matthew was too happy in drinking his water to notice the nicer tone Gilbert used when he spoke to him. Then he nearly choked, and the cup shook violently, spilling a bit of the water on the carpet. He went into a coughing fit; Gilbert just sort of stood there, paralyzed, trying to remember how you help someone choking. Thankfully, Matthew seemed to be shunned by the light at the end of the tunnel, because after a few more coughs, he was fine. He looked up at the red-eyed man with watery eyes and said thickly, "I blame this all on you."
Gilbert jumped a bit, startled by his words. "What―why?"
"You got me a drink," Matthew pointed out, "and I almost died trying to drink it." He jabbed a finger in his friend's direction. "Therefore, it's all your fault."
"That's a shit conclusion." Gilbert snorted, shaking his head. Ah, fuck it. Let the kid have his fun. He leaned over to ruffle the boy's hair. "All right, whatever. It's all my fault. You still feel like puking?"
Matthew scrunched up his nose, thinking. "Not rea―"
"OH, MY GOD, ARTHUR, HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO MATTIE?" Alfred's voice boomed out, interrupting the rest of his brother's sentence. "I THOUGHT HE WAS JOKING!" A few people glowered at his boisterous disbelief, but the majority of them seemed more amused than irritated.
"Scratch that," Matthew managed to say, shoving Gilbert out of the way as he rushed to the restroom.
Arthur had gotten them two rooms, both with two beds. They had decided who would room with who using a copper that they would flip twice. If Arthur got heads both times, he would room with Matthew; if he got two tails, then he would room with Gilbert; if he got heads and tails, then he'd room with Alfred.
He flipped two heads. Of course.
Alfred was outraged. "You guys can't be in the same room alone! Who knows what you'd do?"
"Calm down, tiger," Gilbert said, patting his shoulder. "Birdy would never let Eyebrows over there do anything."
"You didn't hear what Mattie said, though!"
Arthur and Matthew exchanged a look and began walking toward their room, paying no mind to their two bickering teammates. "What did you tell Alfred?" Arthur asked when he opened the door, a little smirk playing on his lips. "When he walked over to me, he demanded to know what you and I have done when he and Gilbert left us alone."
Matthew set his bags on the bed nearest the door, waving his hand airily. "He was all, 'Where's your lover?' So I asked, 'Oh, you mean Arthur?'"
"Oh." Arthur blinked, placing his stuff on the remaining bed. "Well, since he appears to still believe you, I assume there will be plenty of time for teasing during this assignment."
The younger man's jaw dropped. He hadn't realized Arthur had a sense of humor. He closed his mouth and smiled. "He's so going to hate us after this."
"When has that ever stopped you?"
That left Matthew speechless for a few moments, until finally, he conceded, "Good point."
Arthur nodded, glancing at the curtained window. He was back to being all business. "There's still a few hours of daylight left. We should investigate the disappearances, and solve it either tonight or in the morning."
Matthew smiled wryly. "Al would probably prefer it be in the morning. Defeating monsters at night are too much like those horror films he's so scared of." He mentioned his brother specifically because he knew he and Arthur had some sort of chemistry, whether they admitted it or not. Then again, he mused, he shouldn't really kindle it; he had his own secret affections, and if someone tried to help him out, he wasn't sure how he'd react.
"He's only one of the four of us," Arthur replied, thankfully not privy to Matthew's thoughts. "If you and Gilbert are in agreement about tonight, then we will fight tonight. I'm not going to delay the completion of our mission simply because of one person's fears."
"We're fighting the incubus. You can't expect him not to be scared." Matthew's smile was gone, replaced by a frown. His eyebrows were knitted together, and he looked as though he might put his hands on his hips and scold him for being so uncaring. It looked as though their cordiality was drawing to a close.
Dammit. Only they would have an argument based on Alfred.
"This is shit."
Gilbert looked at Alfred, who was currently rolled up in a ball on his bed, shaking his head back and forth.
"This is shit. This is shit. This is shit. This is-" Gilbert smacked Alfred with a pillow.
"Shut up!" Gilbert said, exasperated. "If you're so against it, you should just check them at their room."
"Good point!" Alfred's face lit up, and the a look of horror crossed his face. "OH MY GOD! But... but... the instant I leave the room, what if Mattie jumps on Arthur?"
"What if Eyebrows jumps on Birdy?" Gilbert mimicked Alfred. "What if Birdy got PREGNANT? Oh my god! Shut up. Let's just go over there and talk about a battle plan. If you want, we can just crash their night of romance and have them bring extra blankets and pillows." Despite Gilbert's mocking tone, he was slightly wondering about what Matthew said to Alfred.
"OH MAN! You're so awesome, Gilbert! Yes! That's what we shall do!" Alfred pumped his fist into the air. "Operation, Make Sure They Don't Jump On Each Other shall commence!"
Gilbert groaned.
However, they were at Arthur and Matthew's door within minutes, equipped with two pillows each. When they didn't open the door when they yelled for them to, Alfred simply kicked down the door. It took a few tries, but it worked. The scene they walked in on was shocking.
Matthew was lying under Arthur, his face red, and he was laughing, one of his hands nearly hitting the wall in an attempt to keep the remote out of Arthur's reach. His other hand was pushing at Arthur's chin. Arthur's legs were on either side of his, his shirt lifting slightly as he reached toward the remote, his other hand on Matthew's shoulder. One knee was lifted slightly, as if about to knee Matthew in the groin.
They had frozen when the door had been kicked down. The hand shoving Arthur away slowly dropped, and Arthur put his leg back down. They both looked sort of horrified when they looked at their companions.
Alfred broke the silence. "See? I told you!" he exclaimed to Gilbert, sounding on the brink of hysteria.
"Oh, no, love," Arthur said, looking back at Matthew, winking with the eye that their two friends couldn't see. "They've found out."
Matthew caught on. "Artiebuns, he'll tear us apart!" He slung his free arm around Arthur's neck.
"Don't leave me, sugarplum!"
"Never, Artiekins," Matthew promised, gazing at Arthur in a decidedly flirty fashion.
Gilbert and Alfred were still staring. They couldn't think of anything to say. Apparently, Alfred's plan had failed before it could even really begin. Gilbert was the first to recover.
"Looks like your plan failed." Gilbert finally said. Alfred ran forward and wrenched Matthew's hand away from Arthur's neck, and pulled Matthew away from Arthur.
"What are you doing, Al?" Matthew said, groaning. "Why are you separating me from my dear lovebug?"
"H-he's not your 'dear lovebug', Mattie!" Alfred said, sounding rather hysteric. "What happened to you? WHAT DID YOU DO TO ARTHUR?"
"Why are you assuming that poppet here did anything to ME?" Arthur said, amused. "I believe that it was me who seduced sweetheart."
"...SWEETHEART? SWEETHEART?" Gilbert finally de-froze himself from his position. He didn't seem to believe it, but still acted a bit testily.
"YOU- WHA- ART- MAT- we're staying here tonight." Arthur and Matthew looked surprised.
"What! But I paid for two rooms!" Arthur exclaimed.
"I can't leave my brother- my own, baby brother-"
"Twin," Matthew corrected.
"My TWIN brother, alone with you, Arthur!" Alfred shouted.
"Actually, I'm pretty sure you just don't want me to be alone with snugglefluffykins." Matthew said, trying to hold back a smirk, but failing badly.
"You should leave our budding romance alone. Right, ducky?" Arthur swung an arm around Matthew.
"That's too similar to MY nickname for him!" Gilbert ran forward, dislodging himself from the seemingly permanent spot in the middle of the floor and pushed Arthur down. Before Arthur could hit the floor, Alfred reached him in lightning speed and caught him. Gilbert pulled Matthew away. "God, you guys are such fags." Gilbert sighed.
Matthew resisted the urge to kick him. "Keeping him away from me is like tearing my soul in half," he declared with conviction, holding his remote up in place of a clenched fist. "Anyway, you and Al are more like the fags here. I mean, you kicked down the freaking door-"
"I'm not paying for that," Arthur announced quickly.
"Shhh, my love," Matthew said in a stage whisper. "Anyway, you kicked down the door to a room with two guys. What if one of us had been naked? What then? Would you have stood there and stared?"
Alfred coughed. "Matt, that's not a good example."
Matthew nodded, as though his brother had answered the question in a satisfactory way. "Exactly. You would have stood there and stared, Al, only if it was Arthur."
Alfred's face became the color of red berries, and, at a loss of what to say, he looked at Arthur, who was determinedly staring at a wall. His face flushed a shade redder, and he directed his gaze back to Matthew. "Apparently, I'm not the only one."
Gilbert made an 'ooh' sound. "Can I be included in the conversation again? It seems so un-awesome without me in there."
"Fine." Alfred looked at him. "You would've stared at Mattie!"
Matthew abruptly wheezed. "E-excuse me?"
Gilbert had much the same reaction (except, you know, he didn't say anything as lame as 'excuse me?').
"That's right!" Alfred rambled on, trying to fill up the awkwardness. "Yes! You would've been staring at my brother's junk- and it's a perfectly fine piece, as well, so no worries, since we're brothers, and we're twins, so of course his will be fine as hell, oh, but I'm not into incest, so don't worry about it, Gilbert, you'll have your little bird all to yourself- OH MY GOD YOU CALL MY BROTHER A BIRD, WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO TO HIM? Is this a weird kink, oh, my god, Gilbert, I'm so- Matthew, be careful, and-"
Matthew threw the remote at Alfred's head. Alfred quickly dodged it.
"Anyway, what was I saying? Oh right, Gilbert, no BDSM, okay, like seriously, and Arthur, keep your hands off my brother's junk, or maybe Matthew, you should keep your hands off from Arthur's magnificent piece of- wait, what, I mean no, I mean-"
"ASSIGNMENT. We came here for a mission. Remember?" Arthur said, exasperated. Alfred nodded rapidly.
"Yes, fo shizzles, anyway, Matthew, SIT ON THAT STOOL, Gilbert, BETWEEN HIM AND ARTHUR, and I'll sit on ARTHUR'S SIDE." Before they could protest, Gilbert dragged Matthew over to the stool and Alfred plopped himself down at Arthur's side.
"Anyway, I guess we should get to work." Arthur very deliberately got up and placed the papers on top of the desk, which just happened to be next to Matthew. Matthew stood up and peered over his shoulder, and looped his arm around Arthur's waist.
"OKAY! From now on, no homo. Please." Alfred sidled next to Arthur, and Gilbert pushed in-between Matthew and Arthur, his arms on both of their shoulders. Arthur quickly got down to business.
"We're fighting against the incubus. I suppose you know of them?" That was met by an affirmative from violet eyes, and two blank stares from red and blue eyes. Arthur sighed. "You know, during Defense against Seducers?" Still nothing. "Do I have to start from the beginning?" Two firm head nods, and one head shake. Arthur pushed his bangs back, and began to explain.
"An incubus, which means 'nightmare' in Latin, is a demon in male form who, according to a number of mythological and legendary traditions, lies upon sleepers, especially women, in order to have sex with them. Its female counterpart is the succubus. An incubus may pursue sexual relations with a woman in order to father a child. Repeated intercourse with Incubus can lead to deterioration of health, and even death. After further research, it is confirmed that an incubus and a succubus is the same demon, just that they are able to change from female to male-"
"OH MY GOD! Imagine being able to do that!" Alfred said, in awe. "It's like, 'Oh, I don't want a dick anymore... maybe I'll switch!'" He quickly shut up after receiving the glare from Arthur.
"Anyway," Arthur continued, "Incubi have also taken refuge in women and men's body. We can get rid of them using exorcism."
"That's just great." Gilbert said, sighing. "We don't have a single exorcist."
"Hello, who do you think you're talking to?" Arthur huffed.
"A stuck up faggot who has huge eyebrows?" That comment was met with a slap in the face.
"NO! I'm an O student, remember? I can do an exorcism." Arthur said.
"So what's the assignment?" Matthew asked. Arthur's eyes darkened.
"What else? To get rid of them."
Matthew raised his eyebrows. "Man, you should've said something we could've taken inappropriately."
Arthur flushed. "Who do you think I am?"
"I don't know, my secret lover?"
Gilbert snorted. "It's not so secret anymore."
Alfred looked bewildered. "Wait, how long has this even gone on, anyway?"
It was amazing how fast they could get off track.
Arthur rolled his eyes and looked at Matthew. Matthew gave a tiny nod, so Arthur heaved a sigh. "We've had a secret affair going on ever since we sat beside each other when we were fifteen. We found each other attractive, and we got to know each other. Our infatuation became deeper and deeper until we kept trysts from about a year ago, when we were chosen to be in the same team. We shagged quite regularly until we discovered something."
He paused, looking around at his teammates. They were all staring at him intently.
Taking a breath, he launched back into his story. "Remember Diego? He and Matthew shared that one food Alfred likes. I opened the door to Matthew's room, anticipating what would occur next, but those thoughts left me when I saw them..." His voice trailed off. "I pulled Diego off and kicked him out. Matthew was still clothed, but he was crying. From what I could get from his sobbing, Diego had less than pure thoughts about him." The anger in his voice sounded so real that it was hard to believe he was making it all up (not that Alfred and Gilbert knew, of course).
"I never trusted that guy," Gilbert muttered.
Arthur looked down at his hands. "Our trysts meant something... more after that." A faint smile graced his face. "We fell in love, I suppose you could say."
Matthew was more than astonished at his excellent acting, and decided to spare him from having to think of even more details. "That's why we kept it from you guys. We thought it would be awkward for you two to know that we were..." He glanced down before looking up at them from under his lashes, an act he had learned from a few girls. "You know."
"And so, today, you caught us before we could even snog," Arthur finished. "I hope you are satisfied."
Once again, he had left Gilbert and Alfred speechless.
"Do you think we went too far?" Matthew whispered into Arthur's ear. Alfred let out a low groan. Of course, to him, it would seem more like a sentence of love than a confession of guilt.
"Possibly." Arthur hesitated, then gave a glance back. Alfred and Gilbert started to talk- although quietly, so that Arthur and Matthew couldn't hear.
"It's sad, ain't it. That your brother got laid before you did." Alfred flushed red, and punched Gilbert's arm.
"Shut up! We're the same age!"
"He got on with the guy you liked."
"Well, HE got on with the guy YOU liked."
"Guess we can only shag each other now, eh. Now that they've hooked up."
"...I seriously hope you're just kidding."
"'Course I am. Like hell I'd get it on with you."
"Ouch."
"Didn't mean it like that."
"Okay. ...I'm still hot though, right?"
"For a gay guy."
"You're gay, too."
"Well, I guess we're both pretty hot, then."
"Fuck ja."
They high-fived after that. Matthew gave a look of amusement, and then talked loudly, for the whole group to hear.
"So, what do we do? To get rid of the incubus?" Matthew asked. They were outside the hotel, walking along the streets. People in Sléttborg dressed differently than in Veturborg. In Veturborg, the villagers dressed in button-down dress shirts, tucked into their trousers, with vests and knee-high boots. Girls usually wore a stiff frock of muslin, lace-up boots and probably skipping and singing the tune to 'My Shiny Teeth and Me' (or some other cheery tune). The Nobles would be in appropriate attire, woven from silk or other high-quality cloth, attending to parties and wearing top-hats, swinging their black canes or white umbrellas.
In Sléttborg, everyone was wearing long, brightly-colored coats, elaborate face-paint, and had the hugest, whitest smile ever. They also drove in nice cars, all shiny and brand-new. Everyone looked as though they were having the time of their lives. It was odd how such a metropolitan-looking city had probably the most flamboyant citizens they had ever seen.
"Incubus, basically, enjoy sex." Arthur explained casually. "So we should go to a place where people like to get it on with other complete strangers."
They all looked at each other, before unanimously saying, "Red Light District."
The red light district wasn't particularly large, but it was packed full with people. Everywhere they looked, there was someone there; a few scantily-clad women looked at them flirtatiously, but when they didn't get a response, they simply moved on to another possible patron. Gilbert threw his hands up, tossing a glare at the last woman who had checked him out. "How the hell are we supposed to catch a hooker incubus if everyone here is a whore?"
Matthew shrugged. "I'd suggest we all take hookers until we find the incubus, but I don't think that would be healthy or appropriate for this situation." He smiled sheepishly at their expressions. "I was kidding, you guys."
"That's good," Alfred said, uncharacteristically serious. "We need to get down to business. We should split up. Do you guys have your transeivers?" When they nodded, he gave a curt one of his own. "Okay. Split up into duos or individually?"
Arthur pursed his lips. "I would suggest we each go our own way, if only because it is more likely we will be approached when alone than with someone." He glanced over at a few prostitutes. "Tell me when you find the incubus. Don't let them out of your sight once you know what they are, do you understand? And please," he added, his gaze turned to Alfred and Gilbert specifically, "don't give them reason to be suspicious."
"Right!" Alfred said cheerfully. "So, Matthew, be careful! You heard the man!"
Matthew stared at him. Arthur did a facepalm. Gilbert whistled, and waved at a female prostitute. Or male. It was hard to tell at the angle.
"Alright, let's each take different directions." Arthur said. "North looks like it has a lot of Cabaret Clubs. You know, the ones with hosts and stuff? That would be expensive, but it would be even more expensive if you had individual hosts. Or hostesses, whatever strikes your fancy. You should just check the outskirts of the club. I'm pretty sure we can all sense it if something is off. South has bars with hookers, strippers, whatever. You have to throw down money and stuff towards them as well. Not sure if they let their 'employees' have a quick fuck, but still, better be safe than sorry. West has the most easiest district- prostitutes. All over. You just pick the girl or boy you like, leave cash, use a condom, and they have a little box of sex toys-"
"I'm not even going to bother HOW you know that." Gilbert said, raising his eyebrow. Arthur's face reddened, and then he coughed into his hand.
"Moving on," he continued warily, "Besides those whores, there is the East. It's the most illegal and unsafe district. Lots of shady businesses down there. They don't even bother asking where they got their people from, they just buy slaves. Slaves from all over the world, even from other countries. They also have supernatural creatures as well. There's also heavy drug overdose, cigarette smoking, bets, the black market... it's pretty damn horrifying. So different from the rest of the city here." Arthur shook his head. "So you have to get used to gropes and the smell of weird concoctions. They go after anyone with a decent body, male or female, aged 7 to 26."
"That's creepy as hell." Alfred crinkled his nose.
"The perfect place for incubus to hide out." Arthur deadpanned. "So, who wants to take what?"
No one said anything for a while. Arthur sighed.
"I'll take East. I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty sure I would have the most experience out of all of us." Arthur yanked on his gloves, concealing his ring. "Alfred, go North. Gilbert takes South. Mattie takes-"
"Mattie? MATTIE?" Alfred shrieked. "That's MY nickname for him!"
"Look, drop it for now!" Arthur snapped at him. "SNUGGLEBUNNY will take West. Contact us the second you spot the incubus. We'll be on it within a minute. No one have too much to drink." He stared pointedly at Gilbert, who pointedly ignored him. "If worst comes to worst, yank off your limits."
"Easy for you to say. You have a ring." Gilbert groaned.
Nonetheless, they went their separate ways without any more objections. Gilbert kicked the curb. He bet Arthur gave Matthew West only because it was supposedly the easiest part of it. He'd punch the fucker in the face when this was over. He sidled into a bar, flashing a smile at two women standing in front of it. It couldn't hurt to flirt a bit.
The smell was the worst. It was less like a fragrance than what the air was made of. He crinkled his nose; the stench was heavy, pressing down on him. It was hard to describe it. It wasn't unpleasant, per se, but it was in such a large quantity that it was overwhelming. No one else seemed affected by it. It must be some local thing.
Weird concoctions. He thought Arthur had just been talking about their drinks.
He whistled lowly upon noticing the strippers. Hot damn, they were... well, hot. No matter which way he swung, he knew beauty when he saw it. There were some men mixed in with the women, but his eyes were drawn to the females. Huh. Either he just saw too many guys to be affected by all but one of them, or he was still attracted to women.
He pinched himself. He had to focus. With that thought in mind, he looked around, never focusing on one thing for too long, but taking it all in. Incubus, incubus. What the hell did an incubus look like, anyway? He had no idea if he should look for a man or a woman. He should've paid attention during that seduction class, or whatever the hell it was.
He cursed himself. He had a lot of work to do. Thanks, self. Past him was really the best. Honestly, he couldn't live without it. Literally.
He made his way to the bar itself, glancing at the drinks of everyone he passed. They were all foreign to him. He guessed people in Sléttborg knew how to party. He smiled charmingly at the bartender, a stout woman appearing to be in her thirties. "Don't suppose you've got any Eldurborg beer, do you?" Eldurborg beer was renowned for being the best beer around. There wasn't really a way to describe it other than paradise on your tastebuds. It was the go-to beer, you could say.
The woman cracked a smile, dimples showing. "As a matter of fact, we do." She turned to get a mug, and filled it nearly to the brim with the amber liquid. She turned back around and set it on the counter. "That'll be three coppers and a silver."
He handed over the coins, and took a gulp of the beer as he sat down on a cherry-red stool. He sighed contentedly. "Thanks, ma'am."
"No need to thank me." She raised an eyebrow at him, setting her elbows on the counter. "You don't seem like the type to frequent places like this. Did your friends drag you here or are you not here to watch the show?" She indicated the stage with a jerk of her chin.
He sniffed disdainfully. "Oh, no. I'm here to watch the bitches flash their tits and dicks. What would make you think otherwise?"
The woman's other eyebrow met the first. "Do you really want me to answer that?"
"No." Gilbert lifted the mug, his brows knitting together, before setting it back down, his forehead smoothing. "Do ya mind if I ask you a few questions?" When she shook her head, he tapped his fingers against the glass. "Do any of the strippers in this place leave with someone and come back without 'em?"
Her eyebrows dropped back down, and there were two vertical lines between them. "Once or twice, maybe. Why?" Her tone made it clear she was beginning to become suspicious.
He shook his head, ignoring her question. "Can you tell me which ones do it?"
"Only if you tell me why you're asking."
He picked his mug up and drained it. He licked his lips. "Okay, I get it. You won't tell me. Whatever. I can go ask someone else." He started to get up, muttering something about how he was always wrong about people being semi-awesome, but she took hold of his wrist. He shook off her grip and glared at her. "What? Did you decide you're going to help me now?"
She sighed. "You are such an amateur." She frowned at him. "Didn't your parents tell you not to speak to your elders like that?"
He shrugged. "They're dead, so no."
The bartender didn't have much sympathy. "No wonder. No self-respecting mother or father would let their child be this sassy." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, lowering her voice to help make sure not many people would hear them, if any. "You're not even very good at hiding your occupation. What grade do you even have?"
Gilbert started, surprised. "Wh..." He tried to calm himself down, but knew it was futile. He couldn't deny it now. He seemed to deflate a bit. "Why does everyone have to mess me up today?" he mumbled grumpily before raising his voice to slightly below its normal pitch. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are you gonna help me or not, lady?"
She glowered at him. "Don't take that tone with me, young man, or I'll let you do this yourself." She looked startlingly like Elizaveta in that moment, and Gilbert experienced a moment of being torn between wanting to piss his pants and being glad he trusted her with this knowledge. "Anyway, I've narrowed it down to two gals. Their names are Passion and Coral. Passion wears red; Coral wears pink. Can't miss them. They're flashy as hell." She inclined her head to somewhere between her left and right ahead of her. "They're around there somewhere. They're usually relatively close to each other."
He nodded slowly. "Thanks, lady." He stood up to leave, but stopped and smirked at her. "Mind refilling my mug? Might as well have refreshments if I'm gonna be staring at two hot hos for a while."
She shook her head in mild exasperation, but she refilled it anyway with a small smile on her face. "Be careful not to get too drunk. You'll want to stay alert."
He grinned at her, not bothering to reply, and made his way to the area she had indicated. He spotted Passion and Coral straight-away; they were indeed flashy in more ways than one. The first thing he really noticed about them was that their make-up was very glittery. He was ashamed of himself for that first observation. He could have noticed their bodies, but no. He noticed their goddamn make-up. Kill him now.
The second thing was their eyes. They were absolutely stunning, Gilbert had to admit. They were large and rimmed with thick, dark lashes, and despite the glittery matte makeup, it looked natural and seducing. Passion's eyes were dark green, with a gold starburst in the middle. Flecks of yellow ghosted over her eyes, and she looked playful and inviting. Coral's eyes were a deep blue, and it had shimmery purple flecks all around it. They looked somewhat like the night sky. They were busy chatting up with some sleazy looking men, all in their forties, which was gross as hell to look at. Passion didn't seem to mind at all; in fact, she seemed to look forward to it. Or maybe because she was currently holding about 24 gold pieces, probably gifts from them.
Coral had a more reserved expression. She was glancing around the room, as if looking for younger prey. Suddenly, she locked eyes with Gilbert. Gilbert's cocky grin widened, and he waved. She waved back, her smile reaching her eyes. She flipped her platinum blonde hair back, which cascaded down to her waist prettily. Her strapless black bustier top had a white lacey corset, showing off her hourglass shape. She was not wearing a thong, but skin-tight leather shorts. Her hooker boots, reaching her thigh, was laced up properly and tightly, showing off her thin legs. She had a black fluffy boa, and a large chunky bracelet on her arm.
Sure, she was sexy as hell, probably the exact pornstar men jerk off to in bathrooms, and could totally grace any copy of Playboy magazine, but Gilbert didn't feel a single thing. Not even a pounding down south. He wasn't sure if he should be glad, or be alarmed at this development.
He strode up to the group, all confidence. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he said to the older men, "but may I join you in talking to these ladies?" His unnatural crimson eyes sparkled, giving the impression of mischief.
Despite that, one of the men shook his head with a smile. "Go ahead, kid," he allowed affably. "Can't exactly blame you." Passion tittered at the half-compliment, while Coral blushed prettily.
"Thanks, boys," Passion said with a grin. She had a drawl, typical of those originally from Blando Pueblo, which was near the southern tip of their country, Aleyrn. "Y'all are so sweet. I could just eat y'all up." She fluttered her eyelashes, giggling, making it clear there were several interpretations to her remark.
Gilbert smirked and sank down into the only unoccupied chair there, nursing his beer and looking vaguely uncomfortable.
Coral laughed, a soft sound that could be described poetically like the tinkling of a charming little bell. "No need to be shy, love." She leaned forward, giving the men a great view of her cleavage. Gilbert tittered nervously. Coral's eyes trailed down to his crotch, which was not pulsing, or slightly larger. She frowned.
Gilbert mentally slapped himself. What happened to his confidence? Somehow, it felt as though it was all drained away. What did that class teach again? The Defense against Seducers course? That retarded thing?
Don't look in their eyes in their full form. You'll immediately get sucked in and powerless.
Well, isn't that just peachy. It was pretty much impossible to not look in their eyes.
"This your first time?" She practically purred, using her hand to touch his arm. Gilbert yanked it away in surprise, and Coral blinked, her heavily-lidded eyes giving off an air of annoyance.
"Sex? No." He said, laughing. "But if you mean this kind of stripper bar, then yes." He motioned to the poles, where a bunch of girls were prancing around in lingerie, giving drooling men some air kisses.
"Oh, you little one..." She said seductively. "Then I must give you a... proper treatment, yes? It'll be on me..." She stood up, and ran her fingers over his toned abs. Gilbert shivered at the touch, and felt like grabbing a few drinks and getting the hell out of here. But he was on a mission.
"Alright, then. What are we waiting for?" He got up and looped his arm on her waist. She giggled sweetly, and did the same, except for the fact the her hands were a bit too close to his ass than he would like. The old men gaped, and started to pull out their money, as though hoping for Passion to do the same to them. Gilbert kept his eyes trained to the front, and nodded slightly to the bartender.
What he didn't notice, however, was the fact that Coral turned her head, and winked at Passion.
Matthew walked down the street, hesitantly looking around. Arthur wasn't kidding when he said it was a Prostitute street. There were whores everywhere; on the floor, madly kissing some men; standing, running their hands over their thighs and D-cup breasts, snugly fitted in lacy lingerie; there was even some pot stands, selling everything from ecstasy to a bunch of... clumps that Matthew had no idea what the fuck it was. He couldn't help but shudder when he noticed that a bunch of men (albeit very, VERY attractive men, but still) winking at him, wearing unbuttoned shirts and thigh-high boots.
He did a quick scan of the area. There was nothing otherworldly in there. He wouldn't be surprised if he had walked around for the whole day and nothing showed up. What kind of incubus would do such a thing? No matter how much they enjoyed sex...
Suddenly, he stopped. Facing, on the right of him, was a boy. He looked about 19, but it was hard to tell. His hair was platinum blond, and it reached a little past his chin. His skin was rather like alabaster, pale and white, and almost... glowing. Not retarded and sparkling, but more like... unnatural.
Rather unsettling, actually.
His shirt was open, his pale skin covered in angry red marks, either made by hickeys or whips. His jeans were riding low (by low, he meant very low), ripped and covered in blood. He either had a rough time, or it was because...
He didn't even want to think about it.
His mouth opened, and he blurted out without meaning to, "What happened to you?" He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. Yeah. Just go talk to a possibly raped man. No, don't look at the other possible candidates. Talk to a man that looked as though he had come out of a painting.
The man managed a smile. "Can't you tell?" There was something odd about his voice. He had an accent, sure, but that wasn't it.
Matthew couldn't afford to think long about it. "Do you, uh, need help?" He cursed his duty as a good citizen. He could have walked on by, but no. He just had to ask questions. What if he got led into a dark alley by this guy and was molested? He wouldn't be able to live with himself. He'd eat Arthur's cooking. That would simultaneously make Arthur happy and effectively commit suicide.
"No." The hooker stood up straighter. "Unless you want to do me. That would help."
Matthew took an involuntary step back. "U-uh..."
The hooker scrutinized him for a while. "New meat, eh." He finally said. "I see that you've never had sex before."
Matthew flushed. "What! I ha-" He stopped, and thought about it. Did he really? Maybe with that chick called Belle. He was pretty sure that he had drunk sex before, but nothing really striked a memory. Although, judging by the grins he received after a party, he was quite sure that he had possibly made out with people he did not know.
"Well, what about with a prostitute?" The hooker stepped forward and looped his arm around Matthew's waist, slyly touching his ass. Matthew yelped, and bit his lip. Why, oh why did they accept this mission?
Because this had a lot of credits. Right.
"You know, I'll enjoy sinking my teeth into you... what a rare chance..." His head dipped down onto the crook of Matthew's neck, his breath ghosting over it. He shivered, and felt the other's cold hand sliding under his shirt. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
And do not, DO NOT, say how ironic that word sounded right about now.
"S-sinking your teeth? I have no idea what you're trying to say..." Matthew pushed him gently, reaching for his limit, a silver cuff on his left arm.
"Yes you do, you little demon slayer..." He whispered it into his ear, and nibbled it. Matthew gave a sharp intake of breath, and all of a sudden, his left arm was pinned onto his back, his head facing the wall.
"Now let me enjoy my meal."