File type: Text File (.txt) [Download]
-----------------------------------------
Marco sighed as he reclined on his bed. This was the life. Fresh plate of nachos by his side, his favourite band blaring on his phone, and a whole weekend to himself. Nothing could ruin this for him!

'And we'll be... Just Friends, we'll be-'
'Space Unicorn! Soaring through the stars! Delivering the rainbows, all around the world!~'

Marco's brow furrowed. Except that. He picked up his phone, glancing at the name. Yep, just as he thought. He hit answer.

"Hey, Marco! Listen, I need a fa-"

"No."

He hung up and set his phone back down. He closed his eyes. Three, two, one...

"Space Unicorn-" Beep.

"Please, just hear me out-"

"No." Beep.

Three. Two. One.

"Space Uni-" Beep.

"Come on, Marco!"

"Tom, I'm not going to the ball with you!"

On the other end of the line, Tom cringed. Guess word had got out after all. "Look, Marco, you know I wouldn't ask you unless it was an emergency. I just need someone to go with me, please!"

"Why don't you ask Star?" Marco asked through a mouthful of cheese-drenched nacho.

"Dude, she was my first choice. She's not answering her phone, and besides, you know she won't be back until after the weekend."

"Hm, alright," Marco rolled his eyes. He forgot she was on a trip with her parents. "What about Kelly? She and Tad broke up, so maybe-"

"Tried her. Apparently, they got back together yesterday."

"Oh. Good for her." He threw another chip in his mouth. "How about Ponyhead?"

"..."

"...know what, fair."

"Marco, please," Tom said, his voice growing desperate. "The ball's tomorrow, do you have any idea how bad it would look if the Underworld Prince turns up to the Malebranche Ball without a date? I don't know who else to turn to...!"

Marco pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. "...fine. But you owe me big, Tom!"

"Aw, dude!" Tom's voice immediately lifted. "Thanks a million, you're a lifesaver! I'll have a carriage sent over tomorrow night at six, thanks again!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Marco groaned as Tom hung up, and the tail end of his song played. Things were never simple in Mewni, were they?

* * * * *

Tom stood outside the dark hall, garbed in his best suit, tapping his foot and checking his watch. Yep, two seconds after he last checked. He groaned and paced back and forth, before looking at his watch. Darn it, what was keeping him? He sent the carriage on time, he should've arrived by now. He pressed his lips together as his mind was racing. Did Marco stand him up? Did something happen? ...he had heard there was a few kidnapping groups in the area, maybe he should-

FWOOSH! A blood-red portal tore open, giving the demon prince only a split-second to dive out of the way as the burnt black carriage barrelled through. The skeletal hooves of the hell horses thundered against the underworld soil before grinding to a stop. Tom grumbled and rose to his feet, dusting his suit off, as the impish coachman hopped off his perch. He tipped his hat to the prince before he opened the carriage doors.

With the long purple skirt lifted out of the way, exposing the petticoats and stockings beneath, a high-heeled foot delicately stepped out of the carriage. From the bow-tied ribbon around the waist, the ruffled bodice climbed up the wearer's torso, leading to a pair of puffy sleeves and frilled collar. A hand wrapped in white satin released the gown's skirt only to reach up and brush the long ponytail aside, held in place not by a simple hair-tie but by a satin ribbon tied in a bow, to reveal the face of Tom's guest. With a light dusting of blush on their cheeks, eyeshadow that perfectly matched the shoes and ribbon, and long mascara-coated lashes, it was hard to believe Tom was actually looking at a boy.

In fact, the only thing spoiling the image was the frown on Marco's face as he stepped over, pressing a gloved finger to Tom's chest.

"You owe me BIG time for this, Lucitor."

"Yes, yes of course!" Tom said with a big grin. "Just... wow, you look-"

He was cut off when Marco smacked him with the purple clutch purse he was carrying. "Don't you dare," the male princess said as he narrowed his eyes and folded his arms.

"...right, yeah." Tom chuckled nervously and rubbed his neck. "Though, I knew about the dress, but the rest...?"

"It pays to have friends in the royal laundry department," Marco said. "Look, can we just do this and get it over with?"

"Right, of course." Tom exhaled, quickly adjusted his hair and tie, then offered his arm. With an annoyed eye roll, Marco wrapped his own arm around it the way Star had to his own at formal gatherings, and the pair approached the building. Tom nodded to the demons standing by the door, each one wielding a large trident.

"So what's the big deal about this anyway?" Marco asked as they climbed the steps, lifting his skirt enough that he wouldn't tread on it. "You and Star go to dances all the time, but I've never seen you this flustered."

"Yeah, well, this is a big one," replied Tom. "Almost as big as the Blood Moon Ball. But the Malebranche Ball is way more frequent than the Blood Moon Ball, since it's just every 13 months, and that means it's also way less exclusive. So it's less about the event itself and more about connections, appearances and image. All the demon noble families attend, and this is where gossip begins and ends." He used his free hand to tug on his collar. "Plus... the last Dance happened not long after Star and I broke up, so I didn't attend. That already got a few rumours going, so if I was a no-show again or turned up alone..."

Marco raised an eyebrow. "...you made me put on my Turdina dress and come here because your rep was in danger?"

"Marco, I-" Tom's words fell apart in his mouth, and he looked down with a sigh. "...I know it sounds dumb, but royalty lives and dies on reputation."

Marco's lips twisted in annoyance, but he reached into his purse and took out a compact. With a quick confirmation his hair and makeup were as presentable as possible, he put it away again and nodded. "Well, I'm no Star, but I think I should be enough to shut any rumours up."

Tom looked up in surprise, before his face shifted into a small smile. "Thanks, Marco. Really."

And so, he took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The hall was significantly larger and more impressive than the one used for the Blood Moon Ball. The floor shined despite its burnt ebony colour whilst decorations lined the dark stone walls. The far side was dominated by a long table bearing plates of a variety of strange and wonderful foodstuffs. On a large stage, several devils in tuxedos played their violins and cellos for the guests. From the ceiling, granite gargoyles glowered down at the gathering, while a chandelier hung down from the centre, its unholy flames bathing the room in purple light.

"Whoa," Marco whispered as he entered, the heels on his shoes tapping against the brimstone floor. "Swanky."

Tom nodded. "Yeah. You see what I mean about keeping up appearances?" He turned to Marco and smiled. "Just stick close to me, and try to have a good ti-"

"Aha, Prince Lucitor." A haughty voice invaded their conversation. Tom's face instantly fell and turned to the source. A teenager with cobalt-coloured skin and horns was approaching, not a thread in his silk suit or a hair of his curled white quiff out of place. His cloven legs were bare aside from the white fur that coated them. The young demon was arm-in-arm with another, this one an attractive girl. Her amethyst skin was complimented by the pale red of her ballgown, while her hair was tied up to expose her own horns. Her wings wrapped over her shoulders in emulation of a cape, and she lightly batted a fan towards her grinning face.

Marco immediately decided he didn't like these people.

"Eli," Tom said, his tone akin to the one used to describe rain on a beach day. "Good to see you again."

"Indeed!" The young noble said as he brushed a hand down his cravat. God, it was like his voice was fine-tuned to grate on as many nerves as possible. "Honestly, Lucitor, I'm surprised to even see you here. Last I heard you'd gone into a depression-fueled exile following your last break-up." He flashed a smirk to his date, who responded with a dainty giggle.

A low growled bubbled within Tom's throat, and Marco felt the prince's muscles tense. Immediately he placed his free hand on Tom's shoulder. "Hey, easy..."

"Oh, and who's this?" Eli asked. "I would have thought you'd have come here with your girlfriend, Lucitor. If you were to come at all, of course."

Marco fumed, but he pushed his shoulders back and raised his chin in an appropriately 'regal' manner. "I, dear sir, am Princess Turdina of Earth, and I am here on behalf of Princess Butterfly. She had some important royal matters to attend to, so she sent me in her place." It technically wasn't a lie; a trip with the Queen and King certainly counted as "royal matters" and as Star's squire she'd given him the authority to act on her behalf if she wasn't present.

Unfortunately, that response just made the noble pair burst out laughing. "My word! Matters more important than the Malebranche Ball? And to send a no-name princess from a dimension as backwards as Earth as a replacement? Dear me, methinks Princess Butterfly might be making excuses, Lucitor my man!" Another growl escaped Tom's grinding fangs as Marco tightened his grip on the prince's arm. Either utterly oblivious to Tom's wrath or simply paying it no heed, the blue demon swung his arm across his torso in an over-the-top bow. "Regardless, allow me to introduce myself. I am Eli Gore, and yes, that DOES make me son of the Earl of Gore." He straightened up and gestured to the young lady on his arm. "And this absolute vision is my date, Lady Zebub."

"Bell Zebub," the demoness said with a curtsy. "Daughter of Lord Zebub and heiress to the Zebub fortune. Tell me, Princess Turdina." With a flick of her wrist her fan snapped shut. "What exactly do YOU have to your name?"

Marco fought hard to keep his lip from raising in a sneer. Every word out of these snooty aristocrats' mouths made him want to karate chop them right in the throat, but if what Tom said was true, that would just make things worse. But at the same time, if reputation reigned at this ball, that gave him an ace in the hole. So he swallowed his anger and retained his feminine posture.

"Hm, well now," he said in as flippant a tone as he could. "I'm afraid I'm not from any particularly noteworthy family, nor am I to inherit any real fortune." He saw the two exchange a smug glance, and Marco allowed himself a smirk. "That said, I DID popularise a certain phrase."

"A phrase?" Eli scoffed. "Very well, we'll humour you. What phrase?"

Marco's smirk widened into a grin as he gave Tom a quick glance, a look of realisation dawning over the demon prince's face. Marco cleared his throat in the daintiest manner possible, and then...

"It's not criminal to be an individual!"

Those seven words hit the pair like a truck. The colour drained from Eli's face while Bell's fan fell from her hands. "Wait, w-wait a minute!" She said, pointing a shaky finger at Marco. "You mean... you're the princess from St. Olga's?"

"You're the one who undermined and overthrew Miss Heinous?"

"The one who redefined what it means to be a princess?"

"THAT Princess Turdina?"

Marco and Tom exchanged a look, each having the biggest grins possible on their faces.

"Well, it's been lovely catching up with you both," Tom said, every word utterly dripping with smugness. "But I'd like to get my date and myself some punch."

Chins raised, the prince and his princess strode past the two speechless nobles, the air of superiority having transferred from one pair to the other. As soon as they were out of sight and earshot, their dignified masks dissolved into a fit of giggles, fist-bumping one another.

"Oh, MAN, Marco!" Tom said with a wide smile. "That was AWESOME, you shut them down like it was nothing!"

"Well, what can I say?" Marco shrugged playfully. "I've got a knack for hitting upper-class jerks right where it hurts!" He and Tom laughed the whole way to the punch table. Maybe this dumb ball wouldn't be so bad after all?

* * * * *

Within the forest outside the hall, shadows watched from beyond the trees. Their eyes caught glimpses of the party through the windows, though they dared not approach on threat of being seen. With that many rich folks' kids in one place, the Malebranche Ball was like a treasure trove waiting to be plundered. But like any good treasure, it was well-protected. Armed guards stood around the perimeter, ready to defend the ball's attendees.

"So woss the plan, bawss?" a voice asked the largest of the shadows.

"We wait," came the gruff reply. "These toffs always slip up and let their guard dahn eventually. An' when they do..."

The boss began to chuckle. A deep, dark, rumbling chuckle that his goons reciprocated with their own menacing giggles.

* * * * *

Marco sat at one of the hall's tables, watching the couples lead one another in a slow waltz. An empty punch cup was balanced on his crossed knees. Beside him, Tom sat his chin in his hands and his elbows on his knees. Both teens had the exact same expression on their face.

They were bored out of their minds.

The ball was impressive at a glance, definitely, but like most grandiose things it was superficial. For all the trappings and fancy good and high class company, all it really offered was tedious small talk, the occasional dance, and an opportunity to judge and be judged.

Marco sighed and fell back in his chair. No wonder Star always complained about these events. Once the novelty wore off, it was agonising. He glanced over at the band, whose instruments played a slow nocturne for the guests. For goodness' sake, even the music was pompous and stifling.

His eyes idly scanned the room. Along the upper walls, just below the gargoyles, a speaker system caught his attention along with several lights. They weren't currently in use, presumably the ball organisers finding live music more respectable.

...an idea stirred in his head. He popped open his purse and took out his phone, opening his music app. He smiled.

"Hey, Tom." He nudged his date, who looked over. When Marco showed him his phone, a grin slowly came over his face to match the male princess's.

As discreetly as they could, the pair made their way past the band to the backstage. Though a couple of the guards noticed them, a glare from Tom was enough to earn their silence. Not even the strictest of chaperones would risk angering a Lucitor.

At first, nothing happened when they disappeared. Then the spotlight over the band cut out, leaving only the chandelier's flames to light the hall. The musician demons stopped playing, looking at one another, as did the dancing couples.

Then the music began to play. In contrast to the live band, this sound was much more upbeat, composed to get others moving. The unused lights flashed on one after another, replacing the dreary glow of the chandelier with a rainbow of colours, flashing on and off and switching colours in rhythm with the music.

'Awesome feeling~'

The teenage aristocrats looked at the speakers in confusion. Even the ones attending the Ball for the first time could tell this wasn't the scheduled song list. Yet a few found themselves swaying to the beat regardless.

'Nothin's gonna take us down,'
'At first I turned my head but then,'
'You really turned my day around.'

Slowly the sways grew into swings, movement becoming more intense. Unlike the classical music that had been playing, there was no traditional dance or expectations associated with this, so they improvised. Some of their peers gave them disapproving looks, but they were ignored. They were demons after all, since when were they expected to do as they were told?

'Awesome feeling~'
'We're burnin' bullies, lookin' fine,'
'We'll do whatever 'cause it's fun,'
'With you I think I'll never lose my'

'Awesome feeling~'
Tom and Marco exited the backroom, grinning from ear to ear. Between the music, the lights, and the dancing, the Ball was really starting to feel like more of a party!
'We started out as frenemies...'
Tom chuckled at the sight, seeing some of the dancers convincing their stuffier peers to join in. More and more people were joining in, and Tom couldn't help but look over at Marco.
'But then you opened up to me...'
Marco looked back, and Tom offered his hand.
'And found that we have chemistry!'
Marco was surprised, but he took Tom's hand, and followed him onto the dance floor.

'And you were like oo-ah-ooh!'
'And I was like oo-ee-ooh!'
'White tigers like oo-ah-ooh!'
The pair laughed as they danced amongst the other demons, Tom's demon strength letting him effortless swing Marco around as he weighed nothing. This was, as far as Marco cared, REAL dancing. No worry about form or the "right" steps or anything like that. Just let the music carry you, freestyle it, and enjoy yourself!

'Alright~!'

The rest of the evening continued in much the same way. The adult demons must've judged the teens to be enjoying the new soundtrack too much, because even once they found the source of the hijacked speakers they didn't turn off the playlist, to the live band's frustration. Which was just fine as far as Tom and Marco were concerned. Who wouldn't love a dance to their favourite band's discography?

By now things had calmed down as one of Love Sentence's slower songs, and so the couples had appropriately changed to a slower dance. Tom and Marco were no exception, Marco's hand on Tom's shoulder and Tom's on Marco's hip, their free hands clasped together, swaying to the music.

"This has been a great night, Marco," Tom whispered. "The Malebranche Ball is usually boring as heck, but I've never had more fun!"

"Well, glad I could spice things up." Marco chuckled, though truth be told he felt the same way. He'd been expecting a night of embarrassment and discomfort to keep up appearances, but even acting prim and proper was fun if it gave him the chance to show up all those other snobs. He closed his eyes and followed Tom's movements. He'd danced with Star like this before, so it was nice to let someone else lead for a change.

Tom on the other hand was conflicted. He wasn't lying when he told Marco what a good time he was having, but as he'd said earlier... maintaining his image amongst his peers was the entire reason he was attending. And he could feel all the eyes on him. Their judgement. Their whispers. After all, it was traditional to attend the Ball with one's partner. And despite Marco's impressive demonstration earlier... he wasn't Star.

Oh no, was this going to reflect badly on him? Was he going to be seen as some sad prince who couldn't bring his girlfriend and settled for any other candidate?

He gulped, and looked at Marco. Would it be out of line...?
Marco was oblivious to his friend's turmoil. His eyes were closed, enjoying the music and the dance.
...well, this was his chance. He took a deep breath. He released his grip on Marco's hand and moved it to the small of his back, supporting his date as he tipped Marco backwards.

The sudden movement caught Marco off-guard, looking up in surprise. "Tom? Wh-"

He was cut off when Tom's lips met his.

Now Tom's eyes had closed, allowing him to kiss as deep as he was able. Marco didn't resist, if only because he was too stunned to move. It was like time stood still, and Marco could take in every aspect of the situation in extreme detail. The light but firm grip Tom had on his body to hold him up, the feeling of their chests pressed close together, the scent of Tom's cologne... he even suddenly began self-conscious of things he had already become accustomed to. The way his heels pushed him slightly off-balance, the feeling of his petticoats brushing against him through his stockings, the way the ribbon tugged his hair into a ponytail. But all of it paled compared to the sensation of Tom's lips gently pulling on his own.

It only lasted a few seconds, but Tom finally pulled his lips free. He opened his eyes, being greeted by the frozen expression of his date, Marco's cheeks glowing brighter than any hellfire. Tom slowly stood him up before he released him. Well, the judgement seemed to have passed. He could already spot a few of the other couples nodding approvingly at Tom's actions. Though it suddenly felt like their opinion didn't matter. Only one person's opinion mattered, and that was Marco's. Tom gulped, as it rapidly hit him just how inappropriate what he had done was. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if Marco slapped him.

He WAS surprised when Marco socked him right in the gut though.

"You JERK, Lucitor!" Marco roared as the prince sank to his knees, arms wrapped around his mid-section. Tom tried to explain himself, but a groaning wheeze was all that came out. Hitching his skirts up, Marco marched as best as his outfit would allow. "Forget this, I'm going home!"

"Marco...!" Tom choked out. "Marco, wait...! I'm sorry...!"

But Marco ignored him, and stormed out the door. He moved deceptively fast in his gown and heeled shoes, vanishing between the trees before anyone could even see what direction he went.

"Stupid, lousy... urgh!" Marco grumbled to himself as he stomped through the undergrowth. He smacked branches and bushes aside, ignoring the way the dirt and leaves stained his skirt. At his point, he didn't care what happened. He just wanted to get home. He reached down to grab his dimensional scissors and...

...remembered they were in his purse. Which he had left in the hall.

"Oh for crying out loud..." He rubbed at his eyelids with his fingertips and thumb. It was just one thing after another, wasn't it?

He was so frustrated he didn't even notice the large green hand reaching out behind a tree until it had grabbed him. He let out a shriek that was significantly less masculine than he would have liked it to be right before he was pulled into the demonic woods.

* * * * *

"Marco, wait!" Tom staggered out of the dark hall, still rubbing his bruised diaphragm and taking deep breaths to get his wind back.

Then he heard Marco scream. In an instant, any thoughts of his sore stomach disappeared, replaced by memories of the story he'd read that morning. Of kidnappings in the dark woods.

"Marco!" Panic gripped him, and without any more thought to it Tom took off into the woods. Branches, logs and hedges stood in his way, but Tom effortlessly smacked them aside, each one burning away under his hellfire. He could just make out talking and arguing over the sound of his rapid footsteps, so he followed it as best he could.

The noise led him to a clearing amongst the trees, within which stood no less than seven figures. Each one stood at least head and shoulders taller than Tom himself, with one in particular double the size of his companions. Their limbs were long and wiry and each had a visible paunch, but their bulging muscles betrayed the raw power each body possessed. Pig-like snouts and fang-filled mouths dominated their squat faces, the leader marked by either the gold ring in his nose or the horned skull he wore as a helmet. They wielded a variety of weapons, from clubs to blades, while the biggest gripped a morning star bigger than Tom's entire body in one hand.

The other held a very dissatisfied Marco.

"Well, well, well, fellas, 'ave a look at wot we got 'ere!" the giant, presumably their leader, said in a thick Cockney accent. "A lost little princess, all on 'er lonesome!"

Marco, for his part, just dangled over the boss's fingers, staring into the distance with an utterly unimpressed look on his face. He'd helped overthrow an oppressive regime, been victim to political slander, become a beacon of hope and empowerment for girls everywhere, attended a ball with a prince, and now he was being kidnapped. Yep, he was filling out his princess resume nicely.

The boss leaned in close. Marco recoiled and waved his hand in disgust to fan away his breath. "Get talkin', girly. Wot kingdom are ya from then, luv? We want to 'ave a rabbit and pork wiv yor family, like."

"Urgh, something tells me you need to cut down on the rabbit and pork, buddy," Marco said, lightly poking the leader's stomach with the toe of his shoe. "When was the last time you hit the gym, huh?"

"Oh, a right comedian, are ya then?" The boss asked. Marco winced as he felt the boss's grip tighten. "'ere, I'll GIVE ya somefink ta laugh about...!"

"Hey!"

The greenskins turned. Tom stepped out of from the bushes, one hand in his pocket as the other loosened his necktie. A defiant scowl was on his face. "Let hi... her go. She's with me!"

The leader smirked. "Oh ho, Prince Charming shows 'imself, does 'e? Awright mate, 'ere's 'ow it's gonna be-"

"Oh, you've got a LOT of nerve showing up now, Tom!"

The leader blinked and looked at the purple-clothed princess. In one motion, Marco thrust his arms and legs apart and forced the boss's fingers apart, dropping to the ground just so he could stomp right over to a very sheepish Tom.

"Look, Marco, I'm really sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"Wot're you two-"

"Sorry doesn't cut it! Do you do that to Star when you take her to these things? No wonder she keeps dumping your selfish butt!"

"Oi! I'm talkin' to ya!"

"I know, I know, I just... argh, if you'd let me explain..."

"OI!"

"Save it! I don't want to hear anything from you right now! I just want to go home!"

One of the greenskin goons stepped over and grabbed at Marco's arm. "Eh up, are ya deaf or sumfink?" he demanded in a nasally voice. "The boss is talkin' to-"

He never finished, as a satin-covered karate chop slammed into his jaw. The thug whirled around, releasing his grip on Marco, and promptly hit the dirt.

The boss's eyes went wide. Immediately, the two teenagers went right back to their argument as if nothing had happened, but even they couldn't ignore the deep, rumbling roar that the leader let out.

"Ye wee punk! That's my mate ya just punched out!" he bellowed, readying his axe. "Know wot, screw the brass! We'll crush ya and yer squeeze right now, right fellas?" The three other ogres let out a cry of agreement, and then as one they charged.

Marco narrowed his eyes and sank into his martial arts stance, while Tom enshrouded his clenched fists in flame.

"Let's make this quick," Marco hissed, giving Tom the side-eye. "I'm not done yelling at you."

"Don't worry," Tom nodded to him. "These guys shouldn't take long."

And then the prince and princess rushed to meet their opponents. Lacking a long skirt or girly shoes to worry about, Tom reached them first. The boss roared and swung his morning star, but the more agile demon ducked under it and kicked out at the kidnapper's knee. His foot struck true, hard enough to blow the giant's leg out from under him and throw him off balance. Tom wasted no time and whirled, a hellfire-enhanced fist slamming right into the boss's face.

One of the smaller thugs swung a sword the size of a sofa at Marco's head, but the crossdressed young man dodged with a leap and it stuck in a tree's thick bark. The tap of heels on steel caught his attention as Marco landed atop the blade, right before he lunged forward and slammed the same heels right into the ogre's forehead. As his opponent keeled over, Marco rolled off and jumped to the next one, dropping low to sweep a stockinged leg at the other ogre's ankles. As he fell forward, Marco pivoted upwards and rammed an elbow right into his ugly snout.

To give their boss time to recover, one of the goons leapt at Tom with an axe. Tom was quick and thrust his hands forward, flames incinerating the ogre's weapon before it could even hit him. His attacker cried out and staggered back, blowing on his burnt palms, and couldn't defend himself from a fiery punch to the sternum.

Marco was relentless. The green kidnappers attacked from all directions, but Marco was in the zone. A punch to the left, a kick to the right, a duck, a counter. His fancy attire didn't hinder him as much as it otherwise would've, after the incident with Miss Heinous he'd made sure to practice his karate in his dress for just such an occasion. And though the ogres were strong, they were slow, unskilled and stupid. Not to mention they gave him the perfect outlet for his anger. Marco could take any of them out with one hand. And more often than not he did, having to use the other to lift his skirt enough to allow movement.

And that wasn't even accounting for Tom. What Marco had in skill, Tom equalled in raw power, his demon abilities outright eclipsing the brute force of the ogres. At one point several of them surrounded and dogpiled on him, thinking to overwhelm him with pure numbers. But they had barely covered him before an orange glow shone from beneath them, and they were all blasted away by an explosion of Tom's hellfire. One unlucky sod was launched skyward, his scream fading away the higher he went.

With the two fighting side by side, it went exactly as Tom predicted: quickly. Soon not a greenskin was standing, while Marco and Tom were panting heavily, but unharmed. Giving the battlefield one last look to confirm there was no one left to fight, Marco concluded the battle was over. Letting out a groan of relief, he sat on his kidnapper's trunk-like arm to rest. Tom turned off his hellfire, and approached Marco.

"Hey," he said in as gentle a voice as he could. Marco frowned and looked away with a pout as Tom sat beside him. "...I really am sorry. I just..." He looked at his hands, and sighed. "...I don't know."

Marco looked back at Tom with a frown. "...you know if you'd did something like that to Star, she'd never forgive you, right?"

"I know." Tom sighed again. "It's just... I told you about this ball, remember? I told you it's all about appearances and expectations. So I just... I was scared people would judge me for not bringing my girlfriend."

As he listened, Marco's expression softened, but his frown remained in place. "...you know, you shouldn't care about what other people think, Tom."

"I know." Tom rubbed at his temple. "But it's hard. Being a prince means I'm pretty much always being scrutinized by someone. It's like... it's like no matter what, I have to meet SOME kind of standard, y'know?"

"Who cares about standards?" Marco adjusted his dress so that he could face Tom properly. "You're Prince Lucitor. Sure. But you're TOM Lucitor first and foremost. You should focus on meeting your OWN standards, and being a good person first and foremost." Tom looked up at him, while Marco stared firmly. "What is it I always say? It's not criminal to be an individual. Meeting other peoples' can be a distant second."

"...yeah. Yeah, you're right. I just... I shouldn't have let other people get to me." He let out another sigh as he let the words sink in, then stood up. "I'm sorry I kissed you without your consent, Marco."

"Ya kissed 'er wifout askin', mate?" The ogre leader raised his head. "That ain't cool, bruv."

Tom frowned and walloped the ogre upside the head, knocking him out again. Marco couldn't help but snicker. Turning back to him, Tom offered a hand. "Is there any way I can make it up to you?"

Marco looked at him, seeing the sincerity in the prince's three eyes... and slowly a smirk formed on his face, as he took Tom's hand. "I might have an idea."

The hopeful expression immediately disappeared from Tom's face, replaced by dread. "Oh, I'm gonna regret this, aren't I?"

"Big time." Marco chuckled. "But first, I want to get my purse and phone and go home. Right now all I want is to get out of this formal junk and slip into a nice hot bath."

The two of them walked out of the clearing, following the path of burnt trees back to the Malebranche Ball. Once they were gone, the sound of a scream quickly began to build before a charred ogre landed right where they had been standing.

* * * * *

Marco whistled as he waited outside Butterfly castle, dressed in his best formal duds. As expected, when Star and her family returned, Moon had immediately decided to host a party to make up for Star missing the Malebranche Ball. He stilled remembered the surprise on Star's face when he told her she'd need to find someone to go as her plus one, since he'd already arranged a date.

The sound of wheels caught his attention, and he smiled as a unicorn-drawn carriage pulled up. Right on time. The mewman footman hopped off his perch and tipped his hat to Marco, before he moved to open the carriage doors.

A high-heeled foot hesitantly stepped out... only to catch on the wearer's long skirt and nearly send them tumbling out, if they hadn't caught themselves on the carriage. With a grumble, they smoothed the long purple ballgown out. In contrast to Marco's, this was a darker shade with black lining, sleeveless, and worn with fishnet tights and black shoes. Short and spiky hair had been magically grown out, now cascading past their shoulders and fanning out, while dark and gothic makeup coated their face. Their black painted nails clutched a small purse with a cute bat design, while some fancy earrings and bracelets completed the look.

Marco grinned and bowed deeply. "Welcome, Princess Lucitor. Ravishing as always."

Tom groaned. He couldn't believe Marco was making him do this, but there was no backing out now. He was dreading Star's reaction the most; she asked him to attend with her and he'd had to turn her down, saying he already had a date. Regardless, he was a man of his word, and if this was what Marco asked for it's what he'd do. He took a few shaky steps forward, only for his foot to slip from under him. Thankfully Marco was quick and caught him. "How the heck do you walk in this get-up so easily?"

"Practice. Seriously, you just get used to it. In the meantime," Marco smirked and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

Tom cringed, but just as Marco had done for him he slid his arm around Marco's. Marco moved slowly to accommodate his date's inexperience, giving him the occasional tip about how to hold his skirt or how best to position his weight.

Marco pushed open the door, and the pair entered.