#demons having “humansonas” sound really funny to me

[peridoxikal-redux]

Hii I saw your breakers boy, and I know you love Fu, so i wned to share my favorite stupid theory about Breakers. Nallej, that one human friend... is Fu. now okay. He isnt. They have different VAS tho i def thought it was the same guy at first. BUT. He knows a disproportionate amount about the DBZ world that no normal civilian probably knows, he's highly enthusiastic about getting into these dangerous situations and has a pony tail and glasses like Fu does. I think Fu would think larping as a college student is so much fun. A get free pass into Conton AND he gets to study what these time rifts are doing? Or he potentially made them himself for funnies? The possibilities are endless in this beautiful world

Honestly the more I think about the theory the more I love it. Like, initially I was like "idk guys i don't really knowwwww"

But the prospect of him basically putting on a human college student cosplay and getting into all this sounds just like him lmao. I mean, after all, when he was larping as Whis in the xv2 DLC that spawned him, the only person who could actually see his true form is your time patroller cac dhdjfhf.

If anything, he might be using it to study the phenomenon of the temporal seams. Since Breakers and XV are apparently in the same canon, it makes sense. Probably why they have Trunks handling that side of business himself. Since the moment your time patroller cac gets involved they'll probably see Nallej as actually being Fu and just go "YOU 🫵"

[junkyardlynx]

Pt. 11

Nothing worked. The world happens, the world changes, the world, it is written here, in the next line, is only its own membrane—

Enlightenment. Vijay Seshadri.

---

Thomas scratched his cheek meekly, regarding the problem of the stranger he’d brought home as he stood in the kitchen, waiting for some water to boil. He had no parents to speak of and the uncle that was supposed to be his “guardian” simply left him money for food each month. There wouldn’t be any teen movie hijinks of hiding someone in his room only for his kind-but-suspicious mother to “accidentally” make too much dinner or anything like that. 

Rummaging around in the cupboards for a couple of tea bags, Thomas sighed. Why was he doing this? Obviously Jeal was being attacked and Sarisa defended him. The lady with the sword and mask was some kind of crazy ninja assassin. A crazy ninja assassin sitting on his couch. Was it because Jeal was rich? Like, he didn’t seem rich, but his crazy-weird dad owned a couple local businesses and they had that huge house. By all means, Thomas should be taking the side of his close friends.

But, ah. It was obvious.

Sarisa had used some kind of...magic. 

Not some Harry Potter wand waving stuff with dementors and the like. Like. Final Fantasy magic. With the elements and the -ga suffixes and the mana cost and the really overpowered party member who learned all the good spells and had the best materia.

Thomas was unable to be considered a thoughtful boy and that was because he simply couldn’t let the sheer wonder at such an event go. He had to know, and if he knew his friends (which it felt like he didn’t, really) he knew they wouldn’t tell him. They always “protected” him. They’d lie and call him crazy and make him doubt his own eyes until he buried the subject himself. They’d done it before. For his sake, they said.

Truthfully? 

He felt a little betrayed.

Jeal moved with supernatural grace and speed, stepping between every slash that girl had levied at him like it was boring. Every time Thomas replayed that scene in his head, it was more and more apparent that Jeal was simply playing with her. His friend’s red eyes, which seemed like a curious touch of albinism, now seemed preternatural and overly cruel. He was more a sculpture of ice than a person.

Shaking his head and sighing again, Thomas poured the boiling water over two bags of blueberry chamomile in two matching mugs, both reading “World’s Coolest Kid.” He thought it was funny. Steeping them for a practiced three-and-a-half minutes, he then discarded the bags in the trash and brought the tea out to the living room.

He sat one down in front of his guest, who regarded him with one cursory glance before picking it up. She seemed to use it as more of a hand-warmer than anything else as it was still far too hot to drink comfortably. 

“How’s the jaw?”

She winced at his words, rubbing it with her right hand. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily) it had merely been dislocated and Thomas had been able to snap it back into place for her. 

“Fine. And your hand?”

He gave it an exaggerated shake. She’d bitten into it when he was performing what one might call “amateur non-invasive surgery.” 

“Probably broken, I’ll chop it off later.”

She didn’t really smile, but her eyes seemed to lighten up.

“So uh, what’s your name?”

“Fujiwara. Yours?”

“Damn, you really get to the point. Not one wasted word. Uh, I’m Thomas. Nice to fix your face and also meet you.”

“Pleasured.”

He noted that for whatever else, she didn’t seem to actively dislike him. The thought was strangely comforting. Fujiwara was probably her family name or whatever.

“So uh, Fujiwara. Can you tell me why you were trying to fillet that weirdo alive?” 

“You know who he is.”

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Of course she knows I know him if she’s hunting him, Thomas thought. It’d be stranger if she didn’t.

“I agreed to this because you do not know what he is. I would ask that you dispense with falsehoods.” 

“Uh, fair enough. So why were you trying to kill Jeal?”

“He’s a demon.”

In spite of himself, Thomas laughed. He laughed so hard that tea splashed out of his mug, landing with a wet little splat on the coffee table. He apologized quickly.

“Sorry. Uh. I’ve known him since we were like, four feet tall. Jeal’s not a demon.”

“You think demons cannot simply be born like any other creature? What do you know of demons? What do you know of Sarisa? What do you know of Jeal? Of magic? What do you know of any of this?”

Her words were cold, but not cruel. Fujiwara seemed to be genuinely inquiring as to what Thomas knew.

“I mean, I’m sure you know I’m gonna say magic isn’t real outside of games and books. Jeal and Sarisa are weird, but they’re not like, demons. Where’s the horns and flames and stuff? Or where’s the like, overwhelming sex appeal? Neither of ‘em have it for me, man.” 

“I only said Jeal was a demon, but your outlook is fair. They’ve lied to you and done the utmost to keep you from finding out the truth. I suppose it is a sort of mercy. After all, magic has a tendency to destroy the lives of whatever it touches.”

It sounded to Thomas like she was speaking from experience. He went to apologize again before swallowing his words with a swig of tea from his mug. Empty platitudes never served anyone well.

“Jeal Culaine is a demon, born to a family of mages from his father’s side while his mother is a youkai - a yuki-onna, to be precise. In the past, we pursued his mother as a matter of honor, but now our sole concern is Jeal’s existence. He should not be.”

“Well, right away I can tell you that you’ve got the wrong guy. Jeal’s last name isn’t Culaine, it’s Innhamlet.”

She looked terribly sad for a moment.

“Have you ever heard of the scion of a wealthy family attending a public school under an alternative name? This is a...similar case.”

Thomas set the mug down before he could drop it, masking his frustration and surprise remarkably well. He scratched behind his ear - all of his scratches were something of a nervous habit - and then spoke.

“So you’re telling me his last name is Culaine and he’s half-Japanese? Jesus, how many lies can one dude tell? That’s one hell of a backstory. What’s next, you’re gonna tell me that he’s like, some sleeping demon lord and he’s gonna nuke the entire earth? That’s a little too Marty Stu for me, Fuji.”

“You may not enjoy how close to the mark you are. I spoke of Jeal being a demon; this is both figurative and literal. In the figurative sense, he is simply too powerful to be left alone. His heritage gives him strange powers and draws strange things to him. His natural talent is also...quite terrifying.”

“So he’s really strong? But Jeal’s really kind. I don’t see how that’s a problem. He usually just does his own thing, and the only time I’ve ever seen him act out was to help, like...people like me. Mostly me, actually. Pretty much just me.”

“We have observed as much. Were this and this alone, we would simply be content to leave him be. The heart of the matter comes from the literal sense of the word demon.”

“I know enough about folklore to know that youkai are kinda demons or whatever, is that what you mean? Like, he’s a halfsies on his mom’s side, he should be pretty normal. A little cold, haha, but y’know. Normal.”

“Your poor humor aside, that is both what I mean and not entirely what I mean. As he is the offspring of a youkai, his mana - think of it as life essence - is heavily intoxicating to the inhuman. This, coupled with the sorcerer’s blood from his father, has attracted the attention of what you might equate to, ah, the devil.”

“Oh, okay. I see. So you’re fucking with me.”

“I am not. Do you know how many bled against Emirus to find information on this vessel?”

“Jeal’s dad? He’s way nice, too. I find this all really hard to actually beli-”

Fujiwara had begun to levitate off of the couch, still sipping her tea. Thomas realized that an innumerable amount of eyes stared back at him, peering from every exposed piece of Fujiwara’s skin. She levied her multitudinous stare at him.

“Okay. I get your point. Magic’s probably real. I still don’t really believe any of this, but go on.”

His words seemed more like a prayer to himself rather than a real denial. All the pieces were coming together, all the strange things he chose (or was told) to ignore. All the doubts he had, all the vague feelings. Every inconsistency lining up with a lie revealed by this stranger from a strange land.

“His name is Soritoroth. All of the classic Abrahamic demons draw their origins back to him, along with a few others that are somewhat more difficult to categorize. A detailed history would be a waste of time, but suffice it to say he is a calamitous event unto himself.”

“And what, he wants to wear Jeal like some kind of humansona?”

“Why do you insist on using words that both vex and amuse me? But yes. Jeal’s body and power are acting as a beacon for Soritoroth, though he can make use of any vessel that has bathed in the proper pow...ah, this is....”

Thomas found her two dark eyes on him, regarding him with a stark and clinical look. The rest had vanished. He wasn’t sure if they were an illusion or simply a part of her. He wasn’t very interested in finding out for sure.

“Uh?”

“It’s nothing. I was going to tell you that you seem to be a viable candidate due to your prolonged exposure to Jeal, but I’m sure your own latent magical prowess is far too lacking. As we thought, there appears to be the one vessel. That makes my mission all the more pressing.”

Fujiwara stood up, checking her body with a few pats. She pulled the mask out of her robe, channeling a bit of her strange power into it. It seemed to ripple, restoring the lost material, once again reflecting the face of a terrifying oni. She gave Thomas a short bow.

“The tea was...delicious. Thank you. I appreciate your help. If I may offer a word of warning?”

“Uh, shoot.”

“Do not act differently around those two. They are uncannily attentive. Though I know quite little about Sarisa, her own lineage is storied and the both of them are, frankly, absurd; both seek out trouble and revel in it.”

“And you’re gonna try and murder him again, knowing that?”

“I suppose. It is all I can do.”

“How about...”

His voice trailed off. This was betrayal most supreme. He’d have to change his name to Thomas Judas after this. But he felt that this was the only way to really save his friends.

“How about you let me help?”

“Excuse me?”

“I love those guys. There’s got to be another way. Just let me be your inside man and I’ll do what I can, you know? There’s always another way that doesn’t involve Jeal mopping the floor with you again.”

“You are...not entirely incorrect.”

“So it’s a deal?”

Fujiwara considered Thomas for a long moment, arms crossed over her chest. Eyes simultaneously like honeyed amber and black mud regarded him, dissected him a thousand ways, looked into what he was. At least, that’s how it felt to Thomas. He felt very small under her stare.

“If you continue to serve tea of this quality and allow me to reside here as I plan, then I suppose it is.”

Thomas thrust his hand out and Fujiwara took it, thin and pale lips finally curling into a real smile. She was terse at first, but she had gradually opened up over the course of their questionable conversation. It felt like all disjointed pieces were coming together now. He could begin to see the big picture - where his friends would go when they gave vague excuses, what they were doing, who they really were. In the end, it didn’t matter to him. They were the people he loved, and he was going to protect them this time. He’d help them like they always helped him. He’d save Jeal from both this assassin and whatever was coming for him. Things felt good. Things finally made sense.

Of course, their hard times had just begun.