entrancelogs | (no subject)

Who: Mirror!America (

rockflagandeagle) & Mirror!Crowley (

notsovague)
Where: Mirror side at the greatest bar in the world
When: During the Zirah fiasco
Rating: violence, stupidity, not porn (but I make no promises about the appearance of dicks and/or punching them)
Summary: America decides to do his frienemy Crowley a solid by sending his devoted stalker after the demon's double. Because the first time went so splendidly, both Americas think, "yeah, this is a totally fun and reasonable thing to do."
The Story:

Their conversations aren't frequent, and even more rarely are they comfortable, but America shares a weird sort of kinship with his stalker on the other side of the mirrors. Even with Luke--a human created as an average, distilled from a small population to make his mind--it gets surprisingly lonely without other countries. His world is vast but not endless, and even with his wide shores, he always had his brother above him. He wasn't alone.

This time he keeps it away from anything deeply personal or the weird, sorta funny banter that somehow descends into his Mirror making inappropriately creepy comments of adoration. This time, America just waves, shoots an easy smile he's sure will melt his face twin's heart (it does), and hastily scrawls something before running off to bother his friends:

Can't chat - got heroics to do! I have a job for you : keep an eye on Azerafale (English, angel, blond, prob. annoying) and/or take down Crowley's Mirror. (You know me - don't remember everything from my time before but I do remember the fun we had during that chase!)

America forces himself to ignore the rest of that event what his Mirror made him do to Daryl and the consequences that have been seared into his memory. Luckily he doesn't have to wait long for Amirrorca (or Al, as America calls him) to reply. He never has to wait long before the pink gibberish appears.

☺ YES!! HAV MY BAT READY & BORED BAR IS CLOSED DONT NO WERE SQUIDDLES & JOQHNNY R. ITLL BE FUN! CUMIN 4 MAGGOT FACE.

♥ U ALWAYS MOR THEN LUKE & SQUINT FACE MCTRASH COMBINED

As the Mirror grins so wide that the other side of the mansion can probably smell his tooth decay, America nods and tries not to feel dirty or skeeved.

At first glance Amirrorca might actually appear to be a more badass, capable and violent version of America: burning red eyes that light up like a rekindled ember when he takes his bat in hand, the lopsided grin of someone detached from his emotions, clothes patched and smeared with blood and dirt. But no. Spending a day with the guy realizes the horrible truth: he is what happens when Charlie Kelly and GOB Bluth procreate on a pile of hazardous waste, somehow spawn a trash baby, and that trash baby is raised by a Garbador that is obsessed with the USA. He is America if America did nothing but huff paint thinner and eat contaminated dog food for three decades. If America is a loaded Winchester rifle, Amirrorca is a switchblade that's been swiped off of a guy who is either passed out drunk in the gutter or dead.

Nail-studded baseball bat in hand, Amirrora has come to kick demon ass and drink String Cheese Vodka. And he's-- no, he's not out of vodka, but the cap to his unicorn flask is stuck and he can't figure out how to get it open again.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The demon has literally no interest in either America, or the weird bar on this side. He pays very little attention to what is going on in the Mirrorverse at all; his focus has always been on the Real side. Much like Amirrorca, he is completely obsessed--but for different reasons.

Still, he can't keep track of the angel all the time, especially not when Aziraphale attacks him every time he finds him. It's glorious fun every time, even if he's pretty sure he's almost died once or twice by now. When he's not tormenting the angel he's checking his own room. The Real Crowley gave him the most beautiful show for those first few minutes after he came back to life. Pathetic. Hilarious. Unfortunately, the Real has been clever since then, keeping his mirror carefully smashed. Such a pity.

With nothing to watch in the mirrors, he heads back into the mansion proper to find the angel again, see if he's ready for another round. What he finds instead is an ugly, smelly human (?) carrying a nailbat. He rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses, but otherwise doesn't even acknowledge the idiot and makes to keep on walking. He has an angel to bother.

Any version of America is bound to be oblivious and as dense as Sagittarius A*, so Amirrorca has to do a double take before he recognizes that this is the guy he's going after. He squints from behind his aviators (thus doubling the Massive Tool ratio in the immediate vicinity) as he pauses.

And then he continues on his way.

A few moments later, right as the demon approaches an innocuous doorway in the vague direction of the horrible bar, he's greeted with a bat full of nails being driven directly into his face with the force of a buffalo stampede and phlegmy, maniacal cackling. What's truly amazing is that the bat doesn't bend or splinter or light right on fucking fire.

"SURPRISE BITCH!"

As if that wasn't bad enough, he kicks a trashcan over--where the trash can came from, what's in it, and why it exists are questions that will never be answered--and spills all sorts of decaying, mushy refuse everywhere. Amirrorca thinks that this is altering the environment to his advantage, like how some types of Pokemon use storms and mist to make their powers stronger. What he's actually doing is spreading trash fucking everywhere.

On a day when Mirror Crowley isn't quite so jubilant and distracted, he might have actually been ready for a random ambush, but not today. The nailbat catches him full in the fact and bowls him over. The only reason his skull is intact and his face isn't full of nail holes is because he's sort of kind of a demon.

He's on his feet in the next instant, accidentally kicking a moldy chicken bone in Amirrorca's direction.

"What the bloody motherfucking--"

Then he mops the blood out of his eyes and finally sees who it is. He trails off, snarls, and sets the carpet on fire. And the walls. And the door.