This should be a testament to why villains stay villains. Iris had been driving for years with nary a problem, stealing rides on a whim and driving them as they should be driven; like they were stolen. He probably drove better than most licensed people. Could they drift? Speed in the rain without wrapping around a pole? If the vehicle accident statistics in the newspaper were right, then no. Most people couldn't. Yet, here he was, trying to go about this the right way, simply out of convenience.
Not that getting the license was convenient at all. It was actually quite an annoying process, and why most less-than-legal mages avoided all the paperwork and just did as they pleased. The issue was, though, that he'd tried to actually purchase a car. The legal way. From a dealer. It was perfect. Sleek and purple, and fast as heck. The interior was black with crimson accents. It had the top notch stereo system in it. The motor was supercharged and extra attuned to magic energy. It had all the bells and whistles. It's sophisticated alarm system was even attractive, even though it thwarted his original attempt to steal it. If it could keep him from taking it, that meant someone else probably couldn't steal it from him. That was attractive in a weird way. Security for a dark mage was priceless.
However, without the proper paperwork and license, the dealer wouldn't part with the object of his material lust. Did that seedy old salesman not realize he was firmly booty-blocking the man? Was there no honor in the bro-code? No matter what tactic he tried, even threats of physical harm would not move the stubborn salesman. He'd been burned before on a shady deal, and apparently getting his eyes gouged out by a butterfly knife was somehow less scary than whatever the authorities would do to him and how much money he could lose. Man, money just ruled everything.
His lust for the car was so strong he was compelled to go about things the right way. So now he sat in the drivers seat of a dank old lady's car that smelled like denture glue and mothballs, wondering how something used so often for teenagers to obtain permits could still seem as dusty as a long hidden crypt. As he sat into the seat that was way too close to the wheel, dust flew from the seat cushion and almost choked him to death and irritated his delicate eyes. That fact alone almost lead him to gut the rickety old woman in the passenger's seat. Disgusting creature. The folds in her flesh were so deep it was like looking at desert terrain cracked from lack of moisture. The mop of frizzy gray hair was lifeless and unsuccessfully wrangled into a spinster bun atop her spotted head. And her eyes, guuuh, her eyes. One was milky, while the other was more akin to a freshly cracked egg white. They weren't worth stealing! Iris could feel the worthlessness of them from his seat. Cataracts were definitely a thing he wanted to stay far, far away from.
At least the clipboard clutching mummy was too old to really notice or care what he did. He tore out of the parking lot, half out of concern she was actually already dead and no one knew. Her body didn't teeter with the force and she merely sighed, signaling life no matter how apathetic. Since he'd earned no rebuke, he drove like a very skilled bat out of hell the entire test, and not once did she even flinch in fear or warn him of failure. At their return, she simply handed him his pass form and vaguely motioned him inside to finish the process. Interesting...maybe it wasn't so hard for a legal mage after all. But dang, was it boring. Either way, he didn't care. One he got tha sleek piece of plastic with his beautiful face, he could attain the car of his dreams and defile the backseat until the axle breaks!
[677/500]
Not that getting the license was convenient at all. It was actually quite an annoying process, and why most less-than-legal mages avoided all the paperwork and just did as they pleased. The issue was, though, that he'd tried to actually purchase a car. The legal way. From a dealer. It was perfect. Sleek and purple, and fast as heck. The interior was black with crimson accents. It had the top notch stereo system in it. The motor was supercharged and extra attuned to magic energy. It had all the bells and whistles. It's sophisticated alarm system was even attractive, even though it thwarted his original attempt to steal it. If it could keep him from taking it, that meant someone else probably couldn't steal it from him. That was attractive in a weird way. Security for a dark mage was priceless.
However, without the proper paperwork and license, the dealer wouldn't part with the object of his material lust. Did that seedy old salesman not realize he was firmly booty-blocking the man? Was there no honor in the bro-code? No matter what tactic he tried, even threats of physical harm would not move the stubborn salesman. He'd been burned before on a shady deal, and apparently getting his eyes gouged out by a butterfly knife was somehow less scary than whatever the authorities would do to him and how much money he could lose. Man, money just ruled everything.
His lust for the car was so strong he was compelled to go about things the right way. So now he sat in the drivers seat of a dank old lady's car that smelled like denture glue and mothballs, wondering how something used so often for teenagers to obtain permits could still seem as dusty as a long hidden crypt. As he sat into the seat that was way too close to the wheel, dust flew from the seat cushion and almost choked him to death and irritated his delicate eyes. That fact alone almost lead him to gut the rickety old woman in the passenger's seat. Disgusting creature. The folds in her flesh were so deep it was like looking at desert terrain cracked from lack of moisture. The mop of frizzy gray hair was lifeless and unsuccessfully wrangled into a spinster bun atop her spotted head. And her eyes, guuuh, her eyes. One was milky, while the other was more akin to a freshly cracked egg white. They weren't worth stealing! Iris could feel the worthlessness of them from his seat. Cataracts were definitely a thing he wanted to stay far, far away from.
At least the clipboard clutching mummy was too old to really notice or care what he did. He tore out of the parking lot, half out of concern she was actually already dead and no one knew. Her body didn't teeter with the force and she merely sighed, signaling life no matter how apathetic. Since he'd earned no rebuke, he drove like a very skilled bat out of hell the entire test, and not once did she even flinch in fear or warn him of failure. At their return, she simply handed him his pass form and vaguely motioned him inside to finish the process. Interesting...maybe it wasn't so hard for a legal mage after all. But dang, was it boring. Either way, he didn't care. One he got tha sleek piece of plastic with his beautiful face, he could attain the car of his dreams and defile the backseat until the axle breaks!
[677/500]