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Entry tags:
013
Who: Laharl the Terrible and YOU!
Where: One of those new jewelry stores
When: Evening
Style: I'll match
Status: OPEN! Heroes, villains, or innocent bystanders welcome~
Forget the rest of the so-called villains. Their ideas of villainry just don't mesh with Laharl's--all that nonsense about distracting the heroes and tiptoeing their way around a good fight.
Laharl is a demon. He enjoys overpowering others more than outwitting them or outmaneuvering them. And it's difficult (and not much fun) to convince anyone of how strong you are without a good demonstration. He doesn't know what foolish mortal summoned him to this world, but since they haven't done a very good job of binding him to any contract, it's high time to exert his own will on the city.
The self-proclaimed Lord of Terror can be found robbing one of Vatheon's largest, finest (and newest) jewelers in broad daylight (well, maybe the more later stages of daylight; he still can't be bothered to wake early). After frightening them into submission with a show of literal fire power, he's enlisted the staff and customers to clean the cases for him. This isn't only about getting loot that isn't wads of paper, it's about recruiting minions. The grin on his face is about as far from friendly as it gets, and he's eagerly anticipating that one of those heroes will show up any minute now.
"See? Everyone cooperates and I might just spare you any unsightly burns."
Where: One of those new jewelry stores
When: Evening
Style: I'll match
Status: OPEN! Heroes, villains, or innocent bystanders welcome~
Forget the rest of the so-called villains. Their ideas of villainry just don't mesh with Laharl's--all that nonsense about distracting the heroes and tiptoeing their way around a good fight.
Laharl is a demon. He enjoys overpowering others more than outwitting them or outmaneuvering them. And it's difficult (and not much fun) to convince anyone of how strong you are without a good demonstration. He doesn't know what foolish mortal summoned him to this world, but since they haven't done a very good job of binding him to any contract, it's high time to exert his own will on the city.
The self-proclaimed Lord of Terror can be found robbing one of Vatheon's largest, finest (and newest) jewelers in broad daylight (well, maybe the more later stages of daylight; he still can't be bothered to wake early). After frightening them into submission with a show of literal fire power, he's enlisted the staff and customers to clean the cases for him. This isn't only about getting loot that isn't wads of paper, it's about recruiting minions. The grin on his face is about as far from friendly as it gets, and he's eagerly anticipating that one of those heroes will show up any minute now.
"See? Everyone cooperates and I might just spare you any unsightly burns."
no subject
Shiro is no superhero. He hadn't gone by that title for some years now. In fact, he wasn't even wearing a costume or anything: he had just been out shopping and had seen Laharl committing a crime.
Laharl looks way too young to be involved in criminal activity, so Shiro figures he can talk the kid down without getting any superheroes involved. He has a lot of experience with villains, so he's hoping he can stop this with words alone.
no subject
Laharl turns his grin on the man, displaying his fangs. He doesn't look like any kind of hero, which is a bit of a disappointment, but he can always use another slave.
"There're still cases left to be emptied, so you better make yourself useful, old man."
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"I'm not a kid, and I'm taking it because it's worth something." He unfolded his arms and called up a fireball in one hand. "You might want to reconsider sitting this one out."
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With that in mind, he decided to try to trick Laharl. "At least then you wouldn't have to worry about all those tracking devices in the jewelry."
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Shiro glances over at the store workers, then back at Laharl. He's wondering if maybe he can distract Laharl long enough for the workers to get away safely.
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Laharl may be cocky, but he can also be observant. He notices the glance, and with a jerk of his hand, the fire extends into a whip, cracking at Shiro's feet. "Leave the heroics to them, old man."