#only in the picture

[eldritchaccident]

Timing: Pre-Goo Location: Some Bar Feat: @mortemoppetere & @eldritchaccident Warnings: Suicidal Ideation tw, alcoholism tw Summary: A good old fashion bar fight.

This isn’t going to help anything. The voice in his head that sounded a little like Juliana — the one that often said things that were true, even when Emilio didn’t want to hear them — was out in full force tonight. Teddy was probably going to die. Levi had been clear about the uncertainty of the ritual he was planning, and Teddy seemed sure that it wouldn’t exactly go their way. Emilio had never been stupid enough for optimism. If both demons involved in this ritual figured it’d kill Teddy, it probably would. Meeting Teddy at a bar with the intention of starting a fight with a stranger would change that. This wasn’t going to help anything. Emilio knew that.

But he was here anyway. His hands were clenched into fists that longed to hit something. It wasn’t going to help anything. It wasn’t. But it might make the noise outside his head a little louder than the noise within it.

Teddy came over, drinks in hand, and Emilio took the glass of whiskey he assumed was for him and drained it in a gulp. “Anybody look like they need punching?” A little too eager, maybe. A little too restless. But hadn’t that always been the story of his fucking life?

—

The drinks and the demon returned with a wild eyed grin that fully answered the question posed. But they decided to confirm it anyway. “Nine o’clock” Teddy gestured with their now empty hand as they watched Emilio down the whiskey. “Beardy over there has been talking up how much he’s been shitting on the new guy at work. Pushing him around. Seems like a real class act.” The man in question had almost a whole foot overtop Teddy, and quite a lot more bulk than either the slayer or the demon. “I think he could use some tips on workplace safety.” 

If this was the kind of thing the man liked to brag about in public, there was no telling what kind of heinous shit he got up to in his more private hours. He seemed exactly like the type of person Teddy liked to knock down a few pegs. Exactly the kind of person who would think they could take on two ‘scrawny by comparison’ assholes at a dive bar. Perfect. 

—

Emilio’s head turned in the direction Teddy had indicated, and he squinted at the bar through the thin haze the drinks had put over his vision. Teddy said beardy and, nonsensically, Emilio almost expected to see Rhett at the bar. As if his unemployed brother would be bragging about work, as if Emilio wouldn’t have locked in on the warden’s voice if there had been even an inkling of it within the crowd. He wasn’t sure if it was relief or disappointment that flooded him when his eyes found the stranger at the bar instead, but he nodded all the same. “Sure,” he agreed, getting to his feet.

In all honesty, Teddy could have pointed out anyone at the bar and Emilio would have gone for it without hesitation. His skin felt like it was buzzing these days, like there were bugs crawling underneath it. He got like this, sometimes. Restless in a way that meant he couldn’t sit still, lack of focus eating away at everything at once. His mother had always figured the best way to combat it was to give him something to hit, and Emilio defaulted to that tactic now, too. “You coming?” He glanced back to the demon as he took a few steps towards the bar.

—

"Right behind you." Teddy grinned, slipping in step with the slayer. It wasn't a long walk over to the group, and unsurprisingly it wasn't even hard to get the man's attention. Two strangers sauntering over was enough to get him riled in a new way. Apparently the rookie looked enough like Emilio and acted enough like Teddy that beardy was more than ready to start slinging shit the second he saw them both heading over. 

Perfect.

"What's this? Some sort of shithead clone convention in town??" Not his best work, but he was a few drinks in and more than a little self satisfied. So he wasn't analyzing his work the way someone else might have. 

"Just wanted to see what all the ruckus was about, meet the most amazing manager on the board. I've heard some pretty great things about you." Teddy leaned in, a bit too close, a bit too smiley. Big guy didn't like that. 

"The fuck you know about me, huh punk?" As predicted, beardy shoved Teddy. Giving a perfect opening for Emilio to get that first punch in. Teds was a demon of their word after all. 

—-

It didn’t matter why Teddy had picked this particular group of people. They could have pointed to anyone in this bar, anyone, and Emilio would have gone with it. It wasn’t just that he trusted them to pick someone worth taking a swing at, though that was the truth — it was that he needed to swing his fist so badly that he didn’t care who he hit with it. He was so full of this pent-up anger, so overflowing with this strange grief. He didn’t know what to do with it.

Emotion was a pointless thing, for a hunter. What you felt would always be less important than what other people felt, because hunters were houses built on sand. They were always going to collapse beneath their own weight sooner rather than later. Other people were meant to be more permanent fixtures, with decent foundations beneath them. Emilio wasn’t a person, but a blade. Sharp and unforgiving. And what was the point of a blade with thoughts and feelings? His mother spent years stripping them from him. He was punished for them until he learned to shove them deep, deep down. 

Everything except his anger.

It was always too big to fit in the box with the rest of it, no matter how hard he tried. It was bright and burning, like a wildfire eating through a forest that hadn’t seen rain in years. His mother tried and tried and tried to shrink it down, tried to smother it and to drown it and to beat it out of him, but nothing ever did the trick. Eventually, she decided it could be useful. Joy and sadness were hard to do anything with, but anger could be utilized to sharpen the blade. Emotion was pointless but, eventually, Emilio was allowed to keep his anger.

And he knew how to use it, too.

He didn’t really bother tracking the conversation. He didn’t know what Teddy said, or what was said to them in return. All he knew was that someone shoved them, and his knuckles cracked against a nose hard enough for him to feel bone give way beneath them. There was blood on the bar’s sticky floor, and the fire in his chest burned hot enough to smoke out the emptiness even if it would be a temporary thing. The grief would return, as it always did. This wasn’t going to help anything. Teddy would still be doomed. Emilio would still be unsure how to feel about it. This wasn’t going to help anything. 

But he’d always liked the way it felt to crack ribs beneath his knuckles, so he took another swing, anyway.

Someone jumped him from behind, arms wrapping around his throat as they hung off his back, trying to trap his arms so one of the other men could take a cheap shot. Emilio turned, slamming his back against the bar. His heart was pounding, and it felt good even if the wild look in his eyes seemed something less than human.

—

Things escalated quickly, because they were always meant to. Each solid hit ignited an electricity in the air that seemed to incite a bloodlust amongst the bar patrons. An explosion of violence erupted, the scene quickly becoming a volley of fists and elbows. Teddy dodged an incoming blow meant for them, only to have it land squarely on Emilio’s target, beardy didn’t seem to like that very much so he grabbed at the man who had just gone for Ted. Another well timed swing had the demon arching their back over a barstool to avoid, taking to a handstand to get out of the way of a drop-kick. 

Gravity pulled Ted’s legs back down towards the floor, only to bring their heel straight down on the noggin of some guy who was going after the slayer with what looked like it intended to be a headbutt. The demon hadn’t always been the most acrobatic, but they were flexible. Ready to make the most out of whatever was coming after them. And right then it was a very robust, hardy looking woman with a leather vest. She grabbed Teddy before they were even upright. She lifted them off the ground and tossed them effortlessly. Like they weren’t even the prime target. There was a fire in her eyes and it was aimed at the man who’d been spouting shit all night. Like she’d been itching for an excuse. 

Wait– No. Not an excuse.

She was the security guard. Ruh Roh. 

—

Teddy moved with all the fluidity of water. It was hard to keep his eyes off them as they fought, hard to lose himself in the violence the way he’d intended to. There was something magnetic about how Teddy moved, something so alluring. Emilio had training, but it wasn’t the organized kind. His mother taught him how to take a punch long before she’d taught him how to deliver one, and his fighting style reflected as much. Take the hit, then send one back while the person who’d thrown it was off balance. Absorb the blow, push the pain away, and use your opponent’s inability to do the same to your advantage. But the way Teddy fought was different. It looked more like dancing. Emilio thought he could have watched it for hours without losing his fascination for it.

He paid for his lack of concentration by catching a blow to the jaw, but it hardly slowed him down. Emilio was good at taking a beating — on nights like tonight, part of him wanted one. It was so much easier to focus on the rapidly forming bruises that would decorate his face in the morning than it was to focus on the empty feeling that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his gut, or the aching in his chest that wasn’t physical but hurt anyway. 

A body entered his line of vision, blocking Teddy off. They were picked up and tossed aside, and Emilio took no notice to who the woman was or who she was heading towards. He was angry, because he always was. He ducked under the arm of the man who’d been trying to hit him, twisted it back until he heard something snap and pushed the body to the floor, then launched himself at the woman who’d just tossed Teddy aside.

—

A mop of curly dark hair with one familiar white streak bounced its way into Emilio's field of view, dramatically shaking from side to side. Just in time to give him a heads up that Teddy was twirling him away. Almost like they were dancing, but this time with him. Ted took the momentum Emilio had already built up and used it to spin him away from and around the woman until he landed square in their arms, one hand on the fist that was going for a punch, and one around the small of the man's waist. 

"Security. Avoid." They whispered, before flashing a salacious grin. A quick squeeze then Teddy had already spun Emilio in the opposite direction. Even if they avoided her, they could help thin out the rest of the rowdy crowd. 

A man (who must have truly believed that it was his destiny to bring back mutton chops to modern fashion) charged up to Teddy, must have been beardy's right hand man 'cause he was pissed. Practically seething. His actions were predictable, in a way that Ted had no shortage of fun with. The demon kept their manic grin, slipped their hands in their pockets and barely had to move their head at all to avoid the incoming blows. This, of course, infuriated him. Baiting him further like a bull seeing red. 

Teddy carefully stepped through the fray, backwards, taking a whole bunch of notes from those old kung-fu movies they loved to watch. When mutton chops finally lost it and went for the tackle, Teddy smirked and fully jumped over him. Letting the man spill out the open door and onto the concrete sidewalk, face first. He didn't really look like he was getting up any time soon. Good. 

—

Before he could land a hit, a pair of arms grabbed him. For a moment, Emilio struggled in the grip, still worked up over the fight, but the familiar scent of sulfur and Teddy’s body wash clued him in on just who had grabbed him, and he forced himself to relax as much as he could. His muscles were still taut, his body still poised for a fight, but Teddy was as far from his intended target as a person could be, and Emilio didn’t want to risk tossing them someplace. 

They spoke, and his eyes settled on the bouncer. Vaguely familiar, giving him a look as she grabbed for the bearded stranger who’d started the mess. Emilio scowled at her to show his displeasure, but allowed Teddy to spin him away to focus on someone else.

Someone dove for him, and Emilio let them get a hit in before twisting their arm with a brutal pop, tossing him aside as he let out a strangled cry of pain. The next man to come at him got a broken nose, the next a sharp knee to the ribs. There was an undeniable brutality to the hits the detective was delivering. They weren’t entirely warranted, given the situation. It was a barfight, but to Emilio, it might as well have been a warzone. His chest was heaving, his eyes wild.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he spun around again, ready to throw another punch, but it was caught in the bouncer’s hand. She motioned to the floor behind him, littered with men he’d taken out and men Teddy had, with clear markings as to who’d taken on which group. The people Emilio fought were in much rougher shape, it seemed. “Get off me,” he mumbled, yanking his fist out of her grip. He sulked over to Teddy, angry that the fight was over, angry that it hadn’t been more of a fight, angry that he was angry. “Bouncer says I have to stop,” he said bitterly, hands clenched into tight, trembling fists at his side.

—

This time Teddy got to watch the champion at work. Emilio masterfully moved throughout the remains of the crowd, applying pressure where needed. Making more than quick work of the stragglers until the only ones left standing were the bouncer and them. While Teddy could certainly appreciate the man for everything outside of his fighting prowess (of which he would no doubtedly deny there was anything he was good for outside of his fighting prowess) they couldn't help but marvel at every strike. No wasted energy, quick, efficient, maybe taking a few more blows than necessary but always with a goal in mind. 

Each crack or pop sent a thrill through Teddy that they might have rejected months ago, but now? Now it was like watching a goddamn superhero. Well. Maybe an antihero. Like… The Punisher or Red Hood. Two references Emilio wouldn't ever understand without outside influence. Unfortunately that thought was all it took to remind the demon of how short their time left together was. 

How many more adventures could they get up to before the research for the ritual was finished, was at its inevitable dead end? How many bar fights, how many drinks, how many days? 

Even trying to violently shake the ideas away from their head didn't do much to brighten their mood. The more the adrenaline rush from the fight wore off the worse they felt. What did appear to work, was that Emilio was coming over to them. The smile returned, the awe they felt at his skill winning the internal struggle. A sulky sunken expression blanketed Emilio's features. The bouncer told him to stop, but she was making no move to admonish either of them further. At least not right away. So of course, Teddy had to shower him with compliments.

"Holy shit Em, that one move you did with the arm bar? That was incredible." Teddy slung an arm around his shoulders, knocked their head into his in a moment of breathless delight. "Then the way you absolutely flattened that other guy, just wow." 

—

Where Emilio was angry and empty and dark, Teddy was excited and bouncing and bright. It was a game to both of them, the slayer realized, just in vastly different ways. To Emilio, violence was a game the way war was a game. It was dirty and gritty and necessary, was something where losing and dying were the same thing, where winning felt empty and brought more guilt than satisfaction. To Teddy, it seemed more like a traditional game, with pieces to move and dice to roll. There were winners and losers, but not in a permanent sense. And Emilio wondered what that was like, how it would feel to partake in things like this without them being the be all end all, without it being a measure of your worth. 

Would Teddy still look at him with those bright eyes if he’d lost the fight? With anyone else, the question would have seemed ridiculous. It would have been such an obvious no, such a clear negative. How could anyone think him worth something if he lost? How could anyone want to keep him around? But Teddy, Emilio was learning, was different. They’d probably stare at him with just as much wonder if he’d come away the loser as they were looking at him now. He didn’t understand it. He wasn’t sure he ever would. In a matter of weeks (or maybe days), the ritual with Leviathan would be complete, and Teddy would be gone. Another name etched into the graveyard of Emilio’s chest, another person he’d never had any chance of saving. He couldn’t let himself get used to that look on their face; he wouldn’t be seeing it for long.

But it still felt a little nice to be complimented. No one had ever really done it before. Had his mother been here, she would have pointed out the things he’d done wrong. He’d been too slow with his uppercut. His leg was a problem — he’d felt it tremble when he’d lifted his good one to swipe the feet out from under the third man who’d come at him. He was sloppy with his elbow jabs. He’d had weapons tucked in his jacket that could have been used against him if his opponents had been smart enough to find them. Emilio had a list of ways he’d failed in the altercation, but Teddy seemed content to marvel at things that had looked cool or ways he’d come out on top. And Emilio hated the warmth that filled his chest at the demon’s words. It wasn’t allowed to last, and it would be so much colder when it was gone.

“It wasn’t so good,” he replied with a shrug, but he made no move to duck out from under Teddy’s arm. “You looked better.” Their grace was something he’d never learned how to match, because it hadn’t mattered. Hunters were tanks, designed to take the hit so that no one else had to. If they bled, it was because they were meant to. If they died, it was how things were supposed to be. Teddy fought differently. Like they didn’t want anyone to bleed, even themself. It was strange, to someone like Emilio. 

—

Teddy’s features scrunched into a mock-incredulity as Emilio did the thing he was best at, talking shit about himself. Truly nothing surpassed his need to self-flaggelate at any turn. Ted palmed the slayer’s whole face as if they were wiping away the notion. “There’s no world where I looked better than you in a fight. Have you seen your biceps? I’m pretty sure they invented the phrase rippling muscles after taking one peek at you.” The demon hadn’t ever seen anything quite like it. Even professional boxers or MMA fighters couldn’t hold a candle to what they had just witnessed. 

“Besides, I’m pretty sure I look a lot like a chicken with its head cut off whenever I’m in a big scrap. Waddling around having no idea what the hell I’m actually doing.” True, Teds didn’t have any formal training. They had mostly just grown up getting into too many scrapes with shitty teens before dropping out of school entirely. With all the moving and the weirdness surrounding them, they were an easy target. Or they should have been. Quick reflexes and a little demon magic made them a bit more slippery than most bullies and jocks would like. 

“I just think you looked pretty ama–” 

“Oi. You two. C’mere.” A rough voice with a thick Jersey accent cut off Teddy’s next wave of compliments. Stopping them in their tracks and bidding the demon to look over. The security guard. Oh. Guess they weren’t out of hot water just yet. Teddy offered an apologetic smile, which she returned with more of a grimace. “Listen boys, we gotta have a talk, probably in private unless you want all our friends here to wake up while we’re havin’ it.” She motioned towards the back door, or at least one that lead further into the building rather than out of it. 

Teddy peeked over at Emilio, a little dumbstruck, a little giddy, and shrugged. Bouncer lady didn’t seem to pay them much mind during the fight, and it didn’t look like she was gearing up to get them in trouble. The rest of the mess would clean itself up. The ER was probably about to get a decent influx in the next couple hours. The thought alone was enough to make the demon smile. Justice, they figured, for all the shitty deeds and shitty things these guys had said or done. 

—

Teddy’s hand found his face, and Emilio wrinkled his nose against the demon’s palm. He knew he looked good, of course; of all the carefully tucked away insecurities the slayer held, few were about his physical appearance. But the way he fought? He’d learned at an early age to scrutinize himself there, to pick apart every punch he threw and try to determine where he’d gone wrong with it. The way Teddy fought looked like water in motion. An ocean wave collapsing overtop itself in absolute fluidity, always flowing with grace. By comparison, Emilio was a bulldozer. There wasn’t anything pretty about it.

“I find that hard to believe,” Emilio replied, ducking away from Teddy’s palm to avoid having his voice muffled by their hand. “You’re quick on your feet. Goes a long way in a fight.” Emilio used to be able to claim the same. Rosa was more skilled than him, and Edgar was stronger, but Emilio had always been able to boast that he was fast. He’d been good at ducking and swerving, even if his mother had never seen it as a skill worth having. He’d lost that in the massacre along with everything else, felt it slip through his fingers along with the full range of motion in his leg. And there was no one around to judge him for it, of course, but he assigned his mother’s disdain to himself, anyway. He still heard her in his head sometimes, even now. 

But… not right now. Right now, all he heard was Teddy, saying all the things he hadn’t heard as a kid desperate to prove himself. 

At least, up until the moment they were interrupted. Irritation flared in Emilio’s chest as the security guard stepped in to break up the conversation the same way she’d broken up the fight, and she didn’t seem particularly put off by the glare Emilio shot her. There wasn’t much he wanted to talk about. The fight was over, the emptiness it had so briefly replaced was seeping back into his bones, and there was little more to do about it. But it seemed to be less of a request and more of a demand, and Emilio didn’t particularly want to be banned from the bar, so he nodded.

“All right, all right.” He raised his hands in a motion of surrender, tugging Teddy along towards the door. The back alley was a familiar one. He was pretty sure he’d been tossed out that door more than once, for various reasons. It was a little strange walking through it on his own two feet now. He did take some satisfaction in walking by the unconscious pile of guys he and Teddy had taken out, though he didn’t take much time to revel in it. Maybe later.

—

The pair was led around and once the back door was closed behind them the security guard lit up a cigarette and took a long deep drag while eyeing both of them. Teddy felt a little like a teen being scrutinized by a teacher who didn't know whether to punish or praise them. She quirked a brow and pulled the cigarette from her lips, then tossed it down and stamped it out. "Terrible habit, my wife's been gettin' on me to stop, but yous two–" The woman shook her head and let out an exasperated sigh. "Now what the hell is a hunter doin' pickin' fights with human assholes? Run out of shit to stab?" 

She stared at Emilio for a bit before turning her attention towards Ted. "And you, I don't know what you are and frankly, I don't give a shit. You don't move like a hunter but hey, maybe there's some new age hippie bullshit hunter family out there, or maybe you're some shifter or somethin'. I. Don't. Care." She made a point of stressing each word, clearly knowing exactly what a normal hunter might think of one of theirs hanging with one of them. "Ya just can't fuckin do that shit. Even if yous was right, even if they deserved it."

"Wha-a-aat?" Teddy was the first to break their side of the silence. A smile blossoming from their joyful confusion. "So we–"

"You ain't in trouble. No." She held her gaze for another beat then pinched the bridge of her nose as Teddy's expression bloomed into one of sheer delight. "Yeah, yeah, I'd be a lot more pissed off if yous didn't just take care of the biggest problem I've had for the last month or so. Jimmy back there is a real fuck. So, thank you for that." Another pause. "Rhonda. That's me. You two alright?" 

—

Emilio glared sullenly at the bouncer, fingers itching to pull out his own pack of smokes and light one up. He resisted the urge, if only because doing so seemed like confessing to having a need, and need and weakness had always been synonyms to his addled mind. The glare only intensified as she called him out, arms moving to cross over his chest as he tilted his chin up. He gave no verbal answer to her question, mostly because she was right. He shouldn’t be picking fights with run-of-the-mill humans, but he was so fucking angry, all the goddamn time. Especially now, especially with the knowledge that Teddy would be dead in a few days time, just after he’d finally managed to befriend them. 

“They’re human,” he snapped when she turned her attention towards Teddy, because if she recognized Emilio as a hunter then that probably meant that she was one, too. Teddy only had a short amount of time left, but Emilio wouldn’t let anybody make it shorter. “And we can do whatever the fuck we want. They don’t like it, they can stop talking shit.”

But… the bouncer wasn’t angry. It took Emilio longer than it should have to recognize it. His own anger burned so hot that he assigned it to everyone else, too, sometimes. He pretended it was too big to be his alone, that other people must have felt the same. But she didn’t. Rhonda, as she introduced herself, wasn’t responsible for the fire burning in the slayer’s chest. It was just his. It always had been. “We’re fine,” he said, still snappish but a little less fiery now. “Didn’t need you stepping in. Are we done here?”

—

A curious and confused smile pulled at Teddy's cheeks and brows, staring again at the slayer who so ardently defended their 'humanity' to the other hunter. Was she a hunter? Kinda seemed like that's what she was alluding to. But in the same breath she was acting a lot more like Emilio than any other hunter they had ever met. Kind. Almost, almost, level headed. Able to think past the programming at least. Teddy kinda liked her. 

"How about you though, did you catch any hands?" Okay, so they weren't ignoring the fact that Emilio clearly wanted to skiddadle, just... Being a good sport. Returning the courtesy. They did however elbow the slayer for being such a grump. "She wasn't stepping in to help us dumbass, she was doing her job."

"Hah. Just what I was gonna say. You started a bar fight. Those ain't supposed to happen. I figure I'm lettin' you off easy." Rhonda leaned a massive shoulder against the cool brick of the building. She slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone. "I've seen you around." She motioned with her free hand towards Emilio again. "Got a temper like a wasp's nest, but at least you tend to go after the real shitheels. Seen you knock a ranger out flat one punch. Pretty damn impressive. Also seen you defend a young vamp who was being harassed. Kid's a friend of mine. Jodi. Sweet. Tries real hard to be a good one. You helpin' her? Makes you alright in my book." 

Rhonda spoke and Teddy's smile grew into a grin. She was fussing with her phone, obviously looking something up. The demon looked over at Emilio, trying to gauge his reaction to all this. Guess he wasn't the only one out there detectiving on people. Though hers didn't sound so much like a profession as a hobby. Maybe an acquired skill? 

"Look yous two can go on your way, but uhh– Jenny says I gotta be more social. Here's my number, you run into something that needs more than your human buddy right there, you call me capiche?" She held out her phone like it was a business card, and even if Emilio might not move to take her offer, Teddy was right there taking the number down. 

"Well, give Jenny our appreciation then." The demon smiled over at their new buddy. "I'm Teddy. This is Emilio. He is actually capable of smiling, which came as a surprise to me too."

—-

The tension didn’t bleed from Emilio’s shoulders, even as Teddy turned to look at him. He was on edge, though that was hardly a thing worth noting. When wasn’t he on edge? Emilio had lived most of his life in a state of fight or flight, but it had only gotten worse since the massacre. There were times when he seemed physically incapable of relaxing, the paranoia and restlessness eating through him like a hungry beast. He didn’t want to be this way, but he didn’t quite know how to be anything else, either. So he let the anger settle, let it twist his features into a scowl even as Teddy continued speaking to Rhonda in a friendly manner.

“Well, if she did her job better, there wouldn’t be any bar fights,” he replied flatly, as if he hadn’t been the one to start the bar fight. He tensed a little more as Rhonda’s hand went into her pocket, instinctively reaching for the knife in his own. But… she pulled out a fucking phone, and he felt like an idiot for the way his hand trembled as he released the blade, for the way he had to stuff it into the pocket of his jeans to keep the shaking from turning into something more obvious. Rhonda mentioned seeing him in the past, and Emilio wondered, for a moment, if she was the kind of hunter who’d take someone out for choosing to help a vampire or punch a ranger. She didn’t seem like it, but the question still lingered. “Not going to kill someone just for being,” he said, like it was a challenge. 

He thought of the vampire who’d cornered him outside his apartment building, the way he’d been able to justify killing children in Mexico so easily because they were hunters. He thought of Teagan and her traps, too, of how it didn’t matter who was caught in them so long as their genes went a certain way. It was shit. Whether it was a hunter or someone hunting hunters, it was all shit. Killing someone for the way they’d been born or what they’d been made into wasn’t an excusable thing for Emilio anymore. Not after Mexico. Not after Flora. Most hunters didn’t agree with him, but Rhonda seemed to. He didn’t relax entirely, but he let his shoulders untighten just a little.

She held her phone out, and Emilio just stared at it. Teddy, it seemed, was invested enough to take the number down for him, which wasn’t as surprising as it probably should have been. Emilio glanced over to them, to the grin on their face. Knowing them, they were probably doing it to… give Emilio someone to watch his back when the ritual went how it would doubtlessly go. As if he deserved that, as if he wanted it. He scowled again, looking sullen. “Asshole,” he mumbled in Teddy’s direction, rolling his eyes as they insisted that he could smile. He reached out, grabbing Teddy by the arm because they’d talk all night if nobody stopped them and he knew it. “You ready to go?”

—

Emilio grabbed their arm and they knew that this new little game was at an end. Not in a particularly bad way, ‘cause hey, all things considered Teddy thought it was a pretty great night. “Yeah alrighty.” They turned from the slayer one last time for a quick “Very nice to meet you Rhonda!” As they were already being whisked back inside by the detective. “Give Jenny our love!” They added from a few paces away. Rhonda, for her part, simply chuffed and struck up another cigarette. Mumbling something about already regretting giving out her number in a tone that reminded the demon far too much of every time Emilio tried to hide his growing fondness with anger. 

The bar had a very different feel when they re-entered. The few patrons who weren’t in the skiffle had finally settled down, though they visibly stiffened when the pair walked past. Far too busy with themselves to notice anyone in particular. A shame, because a familiar face sat in the back corner, curt and seething with Well fine. If they were going to play games, she could too. Emilio Cortez had another thing coming. Sooner or later, she’d get him and his little shithead too. 

[daiwild]

Skipped a few steps

[p4nishers]

ok so this is diabolical

jayce's memory reality

[qualityrain]

[motherfucker-unlimited]

No, stop that. Stop drawing popular girl from new AAA slop game or the new shonen anime. You need to find a secondary character from a 10-25 year old jrpg and let it be your muse, like a real artist

[batfamhastwitter]

Part 34! Alfred let Tim leave the poster up for a day before he makes him take it down

Prev ~ Beginning ~ Next

[emerald-hills2]

i love when sonic and shadow are just two silly headgehogs

[dnbrainrot]

(From the Death Note encyclopedia in the official box set)

“He’s likely not capable of loving a woman” yeah but he sure does have an obsession with a certain dark haired man instead

[poobirdy]

xin mo did not become the demonic op sword of all three realms for this!!! for @kawouwu who asked for binggeyuan sillies! thank you for your donation to svsss' gotcha 4 gaza!

[gondorsfinest]

a concept: the ds9 crew doing a hear me out cake when quark pulls out a picture of gul dukat. absolute mayhem. chairs are flying

[softersynths]

is shifty aware that fiddleford is… Like That?

he’s aware.

[loriache]

"I've been waiting for ages for somebody to unmask them."

This moment tends to elicit negative reactions in a first read through, and I've got some opinions about why where Kabru is coming from here actually makes a lot of logical sense. So I thought I'd elaborate on that.

I think people hear this and go, "He thinks they must be hiding something because they gave money to someone? What a cynic." Or "he dislikes them because they did charity?? What's wrong with this guy!". And obviously, a lot, a lot is wrong with him. But I think this makes more sense than it seems at first glance! What people evaluating this judgement miss is why Kabru is paying attention to Laios and co to begin with.

Kabru knows of the Touden siblings because (he's a little bit of a stalker-) he is keeping an eye on all the relevant parties in events developing on the island, in order to be able to guide them to his preferred outcome. This includes adventurers because they are the ones actually exploring the dungeon! He's well aware that something as minor as internal tensions between party members could be key to the historical events that are developing. (He would love the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand.)

His desired outcome is that whatever the rewards are of breaking the dungeon's curse, whether that's kingship or the ancient elven secrets of dungeons, are claimed by:

A) a short lived person

B) Someone who will be a good, effective leader and/or use those secrets and the power they carry wisely, with foresight, and to establish a political bloc for short lived people.

The person he can best trust to do this is, of course, himself. But due to his PTSD regarding dungeons and monsters, he's not able to develop the necessary skills to conquer the dungeon. Once he realises this, he starts looking for someone else who he can support to that end.

But most of the adventurers don't have any intentions of conquering the dungeon, don't have the skills, or are unsuitable in other ways. In fact, it seems like some potentially suitable people are the Toudens. There are a lot of good rumours about them going around - they actually seem to have a very positive reputation! That's what Kabru means when he says "unmask".

So when Kabru is observing something like them giving money to an old comrade from their gold-peeling days, he doesn't consider it a problem because "they're giving money to this person who doesn't actually need it" or because they must have some dark secret if they act superficially nice. I think he actually understands this situation and what it implies about Laios (in particular) perfectly well.

Laios and Falin gave money to an old comrade who got injured and couldn't work. That person then healed up but kept taking their money. Then he used the money to start smuggling illicit goods to the island.

The key is that for Kabru, the problem here is the same as with the corpse retrievers - people using the dungeon's resources to fuel dangerous, selfish, or violent pursuits cause problems for the island, attract more criminals and people with motives other than breaking the curse, and increase the chances of the whole situation ending in tragedy.

Kabru is willing to work with the Shadow Lord of the island if it gets him to his goal - he isn't scrupulous - but the criminal element of the island increasing is something he sees as a major issue.

Also, when you're evaluating someone as a candidate for power, riches, secrets, potentially kingship - then being curious about how the money you give to people is going to be used is kind of a relevant trait!

Interpersonally, Kabru's actually very easygoing - I mean, Mickbell isn't exactly an upstanding guy, is he! But Kabru likes him and they get along well. These traits wouldn't be a problem at all in a friend, or a comrade, or someone Kabru was confident he could use. But he can't get a handle on Laios, and Laios is someone who has the potential to be a major player!

On Laios' end, this is the same as with the marriage seeker who joined their party. She kept asking for things and he gave them to her, because he tries to be nice to others. He even gives her money! It's the exact same thing.

That's fine, but it became a problem because he basically wasn't interested in her motives, didn't notice she was trying to manipulate him, and it also didn't occur to him that the other party members would notice or be affected. We can assume the situation with the gold peeler is the same. When Kabru says that "It's not that they're bad people, they just aren't interested in humans," he isn't wrong.

The extent to which this is true of Laios is linked to his autism imo, (because it isn't just disinterest - he genuinely isn't able to notice nonverbal cues that people are lying to him or have ulterior motives) but to a greater or lesser extent I think it's a very common trait. Most people aren't actually that interested in other people who aren't close to them. Kabru is the weird one here. It isn't an issue except as a leader - which is why we see an immediate comparison to the Island's Lord, because that's how Kabru is evaluating them.

And disinterest in/lack of ability with people to the extent Laios exhibits it, it does, actually, make him a worse leader... it's just that as we see in the story, people can help him out. The rest of the party tell him the marriage seeker is taking advantage of him so he tells her he can't give her special treatment anymore. They're pissed and it's a crisis point - he couldn't have recovered their trust without Marcille and Falin - but that's exactly the point. With Marcille and Falin, he was able to recover their trust.

And he has other good traits that make up for it, such as his intelligence, strategic knowledge, open-mindedness and sense of fairplay.

Kabru doesn't disqualify Laios as a candidate based on what he sees about him from afar, though - he still tries very hard to get close to him, obviously hoping that if he manages he can steer Laios to defeat the dungeon and make up for his lack of people-skills in the aftermath. (Which... he does eventually achieve that goal!) He completely fails until the events of the story, so... definitely I think "They just aren't interested in humans" could also partially be a stung reaction to Laios' complete disinterest in him.

Anyway, that's my read on what exactly Kabru's "issue" with Laios is. Obviously, once he does find out what Laios' true nature is like - about his love for monsters - he develops an entirely new set of fears about Laios' priorities. But since Laios kept that a secret until the start of the story, he has no idea of that yet.

Given all that, I think it's interesting that he says that he doesn't think that the Toudens are suitable to defeat the dungeon, and that he's hoping they'll turn out to be the thieves. As some of his few potential candidates, people who he thinks may play a big role in the island's future, you'd think he'd hope they would be good people!

I suppose it's better, in his eyes, because it means that he's involved in something "interesting". They haven't just had their stuff stolen by regular criminals (boring, puts them further away from his goal) - they've been caught up in the beginning stages of "a historic event". The desperate and dwindling group forgetting morals in their quest to retrieve their lost comrade probably appeals to his sense of melodrama. Because he also just... loves drama.

Despite it being "uglier than anything he was expecting", he still pursues Laios as the person he wants to conquer the dungeon pretty much as soon as it becomes clear that he won't be able to do it himself and they are out of time. That's because... well, to be fair, there aren't any other options. And he fits standard A: he's short-lived!

and Kabru still hopes he can fit standard B, too, and be persuaded to use the power he wins for good. No matter how many nightmares he has about Laios, or whether he thinks about killing him. He doubts him, but ultimately he puts his faith in him and seems happy after the manga's ending that he made the right decision.

[burnt-cookii]

[ audio ]

[riiserrie]

anything to keep him from disappearing again. i guess

original post

[tartarusknight]

Your telling that when they added Eddie into the party we weren't supposed to ship him with Steve??? Eddie looks like Nancy, talks like Robin, shares Dustin's hobbies, and cares about these people as much as Steve does and they aren't in love??? Like we're supposed to believe that Steve wouldn't love that???