tampered | Log: Complete

When; February 2nd - Opposite Day

Rating; PG-13 for excessive swearing and talk of inappropriate things.

Characters; Mytho [

fairyta1eprince ] and Greed [

so_very_greedy ]

Summary; Mytho (not quite in the right state of mind) and Greed have a little fight outside the Opera House. After Mytho finds himself completely overpowered and bested by the homunculus, Greed decides to give the little cursed Prince some pointers on how to be a real man...Greed-style.

Log;

Mytho paced viciously back and forth outside of the Opera House, having earlier exchanged his "Princely" outfit for a pair of tattered jeans and a plain baggy shirt, which was much easier to move in and more appropriate for a man. And having been forced to pass by and even lay eyes on those elegantly-dressed women inside had nearly made him sick.

He needed to fight and release all the pent-up anger. So where the hell was Greed?

Greed tromped his way over to the location of his opponent, knocking over several streetlights in frustration along the way. He spotted a mop of platinum hair on a short body and walked up next to him.

"Oi, kid. What the fuck's your problem, ya' little brat?"

He leaned in to look him in the eyes, removing his sunglasses and smiling wide, showing him rows of shark-like teeth.

"So, brat, what are ya' gonna' do to me?"

Mytho scowled at Greed's arrival. Finally. What, did the fucking guy think he had all bloody day to wait?

"Whatever I fucking want, asshole!" the ageless boy roared, aiming a furious punch directly at the taller man's grinning face.

Wiping the smile off that mug was exactly what he needed to do to feel accomplished.

Greed continued to grin as the small fist impacted his face. He didn't even need his shield. This was barely even a contest.

"...Was that it? I've had bugs bite harder than that. At least put some feeling into," he said, reaching out and ruffling his hair, "Come on, put some pepper on it! Try again!"

He got on his knees to look at him more squarely, giving him a better shot.

The white-haired prince nearly shook with bubbling rage. He was so sick of everyone treating him like a pathetic, weak little boy! Hell, he was probably older than half the people in this goddamn City! Why did that fucking storyteller have to write him as some noble, petite little do-gooder Prince!? He was a man!

"STOP PLAYING AROUND!" Mytho yelled out, pulling his fist back for another solid punch. "Fight me like a goddamn man! I'm not weak!"

And with another loud cry, he reared his fist back into Greed's face with all the force he could muster.

Greed dodged, letting the little prince's exertion turn him around. He grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground, holding him at arm's distance.

"AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! Not so tough now, are ya'? Maybe if you'd act like a man, you'd be treated like one. It's not all about cursin' or hurtin' people. It's about knowing when NOT to stir up shit," he said, chastising the boy.

Mytho was set down again, then given a swift swat on the keister.

Mytho fell forward to the ground face-first, wincing from the pain that shot through his system. And Greed was still just toying with him! Unforgivable!

Getting back to his feet, Mytho narrowed his golden eyes at at the dark-haired man. "And what would you know about being a man? You spend most of your time with women, anyway!"

He wanted to...stop-No! He had to prove himself! He wasn't weak or girly or anything like that! But this was against everything he believed-So what?! He had new beliefs now!

Deciding to use his abhored ballet skills to his advantage, Mytho charged Greed once again, using the large man's shoulders as a boost to lift himself into the air, executing a rotation in midair to deliver a swift, brutal kick to the backside of Greed's head.

"Real men know how to treat ladies right. They help them have fun and forget their worries for a night," he said, resolutely, "It's not my fault that I have obligations to so many girls. They need me! Why don't you---"

Greed's speech was cut off as a foot slammed into the back of his skull, rocking his head slightly forward, though his body stood firm. He immediately spun around and reached up.

"Too bad that you can't change directions in mid-air," he said, grabbing him by a leg and holding him upside down, "What kinda' artsy, sissy shit is that? I shoulda' known you were a little fruity."

Greed swatted his backside twice, this time, then set him on the ground again.

"What's the point if it's only for a night?" Mytho returned scathingly, picking himself off the ground for a second time. "There's no obligation to women, anyway. They have the fucking obligations, not men!"

Greed was continually humilating him and he hated it! Not that his image mattered to him in the slightest, but he needed to have pride as a man and not a prince!

Mytho felt a vague urge to brush the dust off of his pants and shirt, but quickly quenched the feeling before it could manifest. "Oh, and what do you consider more manly? The fists again? I'd say kicking is still barbaric enough to be masculine."

He crossed his arms and scowled darkly, golden eyes silently daring the other man to make a move.

"The fun of it is the point. If both people end up satisfied, what's the problem? I don't need some DOPE whose TESTICLES haven't even dropped tellin' me how to handle my business. I've made love to more fine ladies than you could dream of, and kicked more ass than you could in a million years!"

Greed kneeled again and looked deep into his eyes.

"Kickin' is fine. If you actually have STRENGTH to kick, that is. You don't, amigo."

"Well I'll be manly like that, eventually! I'm fucking working on it! And I had to start somewhere."

Maybe he should just pick on something his own size, or even smaller than him. Even if he wanted to protect the small and helpless before, he didn't give a damn about that now! He just wanted to fight and do nasty things to people, and make them suffer! That's all that mattered!

"Well if I had a bigger body instead of what I got stuck with, I could do some fucking damage!"

It really wasn't fair that he was stuck in the body of a frail little prince. He hated every minute of it.

"Yeah, well "if"s are like stables. They're nothing but horse shit. If ya' really want to be tough, why not let someone TRAIN ya'? That's how you learn things."

He sat on the ground in front of the prince and stretched his arms a bit, the joints cracking fitfully.

"And NO, you wouldn't. I'm a homunculus, kid. Hits from human can't hurt us that bad. I don't care how big you are."

"Training?"

He honestly hadn't thought of that. But if it meant he could be more manly and live up to the title of what a real and powerful prince should be, then maybe it was worth it. He had to admit, Greed was a lot more manly than he was. The way he looked, talked, even walked. Mytho felt that he wanted to be like that, too.

He eyed the man who was sitting down a little skeptically. He wasn't sure what a homunculus was, but obviously they were a lot stronger than a normal, or even enchanted human. "So you'd be willing to train me?"

"I could give ya' some pointers, sure. It won't be easy, though. I'm a harsh taskmaster. I also don't need to be questioned."

He stood up again and patted Mythos on the head, then took off his jacket and placed it around the boy's shoulders. It was practically a shawl on his smaller body.

"So, what do ya' wanna' know first?"

Mytho's shoulders sagged slightly from the weight of the jacket. Really, did his fucking body have so little weight? How bloody annoying.

"Well first of all, stop treating me like a kid if you're so harsh," he glared in response to the head pat. "As for what I want to know...Start with some fucking fighting pointers. Obviously right now, I can't do shit in that area."

"For one, you missed an obvious advantage. Ya' don't aim for the face when you're so far down. But you're in the perfect zone to hit the balls!" he made a punching motion with his fist.

"Another is the instep," he said, pointing to his left feet, "Very sensitive and very easy to hit."

He grabbed Mythos by the back and shook him up a bit.

"Loosen up! Now hold your arms in front of ya' like a boxer. Keep 'em up. Don't ever let those arms drop."

"So use fucking size to an advantage," Mytho nodded, brows drawn together and arms raised before him in a ready stance. He could do this. He could learn to fight dirty instead of being noble.

Nobility was for sissies, anyway. Perhaps he could just give up his fucking crown, too. It didn't mean anything.

"And hit sensitive areas," he nodded again. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Friendly duels are the only place where rules apply. In all other fights, the smartest, most underhanded fight wins. Forget all concepts of honor when you're fightin' an enemy."

He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a freshly minted book.

"Check this out! Just put out by my teacher, Jiraiya! Make-Out Paradise! It should be required readin' for a man. This'll show you things you never knew, kid!"

"Forget honor," Mytho repeated, somehow hating the way the words sounded on his lips. "I don't have any fucking honor anyway."

The cursed prince blinked disinterestedly at the unfamiliar book. "Required reading? What's so important about it?"

He'd never heard of anything called "Make-Out Paradise". Was it some kind of stupid fantasy novel?

"You obviously don't get the sheer genius of this fine work of art and literature," he said, opening the book to a middle page, "You simply lack the true knowledge of it."

After showing the page to Mytho, it could be seen that there were enough acts of sheer and outright debauchery going on in just those two pages alone to make a sailor blush.

"See? Genius! THIS is what men read!"

Mytho's golden eyes traced over the page Greed shamelessly placed in his view, eyebrows drawing together in a puzzled manner. "This is what men read? What's so...manly about it?" He squinted a little closer, as if that might help him understand the acts displayed. "I don't like art and literature. That's like fucking dancing."

He really hadn't wanted to be reminded of what he spent so many years of his life perfecting: That useless, girly art called ballet.

He looked at Mytho like he had grown another head. Was this kid even human? What the hell kind of cave had he lived in?

"They're havin' sex, kid. Fuckin'. How the hell can someone dance in THAT position?! Hasn't anyone explained this to you? Are you tryin' to tell me you've never thought about gettin' your wick wet in all the years you've been alive? What the hell kind of world do you live in?!"

Mytho didn't understand what Greed was so surprised about, but it was re-lighting his anger fuse. "I lived in a fucking controlled world, that's what!" Taking a moment to calm the fury in his voice, he blinked and looked at the picture again. "I've never seen anything fucking like that before. That prissy bitch Rue used to show a lot of skin before, but she changed. We never did anything like that but she did...sometimes she'd do things that were... strange. I don't know what I felt then."

He frowned. If he had his heart back then, what would he have felt when Rue's alter-ego had done those things...? Would he have wanted something like this? If the actions in the picture meant anything, maybe she had wanted something like that. Did she now? He didn't know.

Having a heart changed everything.

"Look, the bottom line is that you'll need this information to be a man. Get used to it."

He scratched his chin and thought for a moment.

"Lessee', fightin', fuckin', what else makes a man...Oh yeah! Intelligence! A man is always right, no matter what. Even if another man's idea contradicts his own. Your own opinion always takes precedence."

Mytho nodded, pushing away a stray lock of white hair that clouded his vision. "Fighting, Fucking, and Intelligence."

Somehow he could swear he'd learned something much different about intelligence and being wise. But that didn't matter. He didn't want to be wise, anyway. He wanted to be man and not a pathetic little ageless prince.

"So no matter what, don't take any fucking account of what anyone else says if it goes against what I think. Okay. Is that it?"

Maybe becoming manly would actually be easier than he thought.

"Anyway, that's all I can share for now. I have a date in two hours and need to get ready. If'n ya' need more info, don't be afraid to ask, kid."

"Alright...Uh, thanks, I guess." Mytho answered awkwardly, before raising his fists in a mock-fighting pose. "I'll be more of a man next time, so fucking watch out, yeah?"

He paused as his foot hit something and glanced down at the ground. "Oh, your book." Picking it up, he offered it back to the taller man. "Suppose you'll be needing this for your date."

"Keep it. It's a gift," he said, turning on his heel, "Don't take no shit!"

And in a few high-powered leaps, he was out of sight.

Mytho stared after where Greed had disappeared, then looked down to the book in his hands. He'd certainly learned a lot of things.

What else was manly that he could do?

Rue had mentioned Fakir was barbaric for trying drinking once before. Barbaric was good, right? If that prissy bitch didn't like it, maybe he should try it. Club Automatica was the place for that, if he remembered correctly.

Smiling widely in an almost sinister manner, the prince set off in search of the bar. Just wait, he thought to himself. I'll be more fucking manly than anyone else in this whole goddamn city.

Log: Complete

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