Inspired by @sister-calliope !
Forgive me, a collection of random thoughts where I’m rambling again on traitor!Valdor…
Can't even focus(oof), I must be getting old…
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Ramblings about Traitor!Valdor
The most loyal of his servants, turned to treachery.
As a final insult, he kept the Apollonian Spear.
So he could know forever what he could have had, what he could have dreamt, but never attaining it. Feeling human only when he kills, feeling joy siphoned from a dying Loyalist’s mind, feeling happiness only in the scant few seconds between one kill and the next.
Maybe he’ll fight against the Emperor. Maybe he’ll die just like how the Thunder Warrior Primarch died, marching to battle with a doomed coup, knowing they’re here to slay him, knowing he’s here to die.
Maybe he’ll flee into the Webway. Maybe he’ll become the dreaded King in Yellow, but instead of reining in his efforts, instead of obeying his master’s will, the former Custodian will become blasphemy incarnate, here to break His throne.
Or maybe Valdor will win the Blood Games, for one last time. He was His bodyguard for millenia, he knows when He’s vulnerable, he knows when He dies. The Emperor dies not with a scream or a warcry or a glorious, fateful death, but in silence, smothered by the hand of His formerly beloved servant turned assassin. The Shadowkeepers will tear him apart, of course, limb from limb and shred his auramite plate from plate, but He’ll be dead.
Or maybe, just maybe, Valdor would do nothing at all. He’ll simply leave, his duty complete, the Custodes forever wondering what became of him, what became of the greatest of the Ten Thousand? Maybe he won’t try to avenge the dead. They’re dead, after all, and his sins would never be expedited. What use is vengeance to a dead man? Valdor is merely a sentinel, charged with observing while others acted. He had watched while the Cataegis were born, while they died, while he betrayed them. To watch, to wait to act, but this act will never come, this lost servant will never come home. Maybe he’ll settle down, in a distant cold star, reminding him of what he lost to gain the powers he had. Was the bargain worth the price? Was it truly worth the price?
The First Custodian once lead the golden, he once served a god-king, before whom His words could fell an army. Now he walks alone, watching and waiting for a time that will never pass, clad not in armor but in furs and iron. The cycle ends where it began, beneath frost and winds so like Maulland Sen he could sometimes almost-dream of the thunder and the iron, that his perfect memory could fail him and he could almost remember what it felt like to dream, to be a young creature again, so full of ambition and possibility and words before the Emperor had laid down His claws.
And finally, maybe he just might come crawling home. The old dog, having his fill of adventure and obedience, the prodigal general limping home with his head bowed and neck bared. Because what else did Valdor know? In truth, he do not really know where else he could go. He wanted nothing, he lived for nothing, he desired nothing save that of his lord, and that too was gone, by his own betrayal.
He lived for the Emperor. He’ll die by Him too.
Staggering home, his armor charred and cracked and missing in pieces, the Apollonian Spear dragged behind him like the limp tail of a dog who no longer wished to fight. They’ll bind him in chains and drag him before his former master like the traitor he is, and Valdor, obedient once more, no longer resists. The Emperor drags him home, and Valdor, quietly, without protest, without even a trace of hatred one would have expected from a traitor, accepts his endless penitence with grace.
He will never be forgiven. Not when he had betrayed Him so thoroughly, not when his sin could only be expedited in blood. The Emperor no longer utters the name “Constantin Valdor” with such adoration, in fact, He no longer utters his name at all. For a hero to be born, they must be preserved, their stories written in blood for a lifetime. Yet, till eternity ends, not a single soul would hear the name “Valdor” within the Imperium, even though he had fought and bled so vehemently for the Imperium. He will cease to matter, when his very deeds fade from the Imperium’s memory. Because while his penitence will never end, and the formerly glorious Captain-General will never be forgiven.
Some say that, for the great sin of his treachery, the Emperor removed all traces of insubordination from His favored servant. Some say He removed even what remained of Valdor’s soul, to ensure he would never be free again. For all He had taken from him, he still had plenty to lose, plenty the Emperor could seize within His golden claws and rip away.
Some say the mute Captain-General no longer speaks, in fact, he no longer communicates for fear of whatever heretical taint had led him down such a cruel path. Not a single word save a nod or bow for his lord. Nothing left of the man once known as Constantin Valdor, nothing behind those dead eyes except for resignation, resigned in the same way a badly beaten dog shows its belly, nothing left except for obedience in a mind too broken to even hate. Nothing more than an automaton marching on an endless crusade. A crippled bird, that having tasted freedom, still chose the bars of its cage.
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Traitors! Foolish & Badboyhalo (Platonic)
In which Foolish’s inability to die is rather inconvenient and Badboyhalo makes his friend’s bad day everyone else’s problem.
word count: ~5,000
warnings: blood, some gore
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The plan had been simple- had been. Things quickly overcomplicated themselves as they always seemed to when the rest of the "Theory Bros" and their friends were involved, but BBH would like to make that point regardless.
It had all been simple. Neat, clean. Just antagonize the island's government together and see what would happen. Try to get some leverage, if they could.
It had not stayed simple. And that was where the problems had come in.
He blinks back to himself, grip tightening on his ax as the sky overhead darkens ominously, stars wheeling into place and the moon popping up like a jump scare, full and bright and just enough to see by- see the green and black cloud of numbers descend from the heavens to hover over them all. Just looking at it has his teeth buzzing in his jaw and he clenches it in a grimace, trying to fight back the urge to let them sharpen to better take a bite out of the monster with.
"Uhhh guys," Cellbit says tightly, taking a slow step behind Forever and Fit, who already have their shields out and bombs in their off hands. The cryptologist winces a little as angry eyes all turn to him, before continuing on, "I think... I think things are gonna get difficult."
"Oh?" Philza hisses out, a bird-like screech rising in the back of his throat as he brings his bow up to point at the being in the sky. "You think? A bit of an understatement, king, I'd say we've got a bit of a problem."
The group goes silent as the mass of seething code in the sky pulses once, then twice, before seeming to double, then triple in size. Like a swarm of bees, chunks of it separate off to box the party of mystery-solvers in. Cellbit, notably, remains silent, even as Forever, Foolish, and Maximus all start cursing in their respective languages. The paranoid part of Bad takes note but the survivalist in him demands priority so he pulls out his god apple, finally letting his teeth lengthen into vicious points in his mouth to rip a bite out of the fruit's flesh.
"EVERYONE! Get your shields out, if you have a gun, use it. Philza, Maximus, get your bows. Foolish! BACK UP and put your armor on, I am not responsible if you get hurt because you're being an- idIOT CELLBIT BACK UP." People snap into action, most choosing to follow Bad's orders, though Cellbit instead rushes to his side, pulling out a shield and ducking just behind his shoulder to whisper in his ear.
"Watch the ground. It's dark but the moon's out, they should be casting shadows and they're not. The binary codes are all the same too, I think this is just one entity and two things it's controlling. If the others hit the two that split off, it should distract the main one enough that they can take it out." BBH nods sharply, bringing his own shield to bear, ready to defend the more vulnerable Brazilian.
"On my mark!" Philza shouts, loosing the first volley of arrows into the sky. And then everything dissolves into chaos.
As with most things, Bad finds himself to be competent in the ensuing fight. Mostly.
That same buzzing hum starts up again and it makes something in his brain ache as he ducks, dodges, rolls with his shield to avoid the number creatures' dive bombing. It makes it all the harder to focus on keeping himself between Cellbit and the monsters, though the other is surprisingly nimble, finding ways to keep in Bad's shadow despite his frantic movements. Regardless, they manage well enough, Bad even finding a chance to pull out his crossbow and launch a few arrows at the whirl of code that is harrying Philza and Fit back against a nearby tree.
Others aren't managing nearly as well, and Cellbit's sudden scream makes that all too clear.
"Forever! Tenha cuidado com-" The blond man's shriek is loud and piercing as he goes down, dropping his bombs as he does to hit respawn in a glorious plume of smoke. The explosion knocks Foolish to the ground, Maximus wincing from the heat as the man rushes to the shark hybrid's side. From on high, the code monster pulses and writhes, seeming to laugh silently to itself before rising to hover just above the pair.
The temptation to swear is strong but Bad resists, choosing instead to pull Cellbit to his chest to prevent the other man from running over. Instead of fighting back however, the other man just goes limp in his arms, pushing his full weight into BBH's chest as he begins to mumble to himself, eyes darting frantically.
"Foolish! Max! Move away, muffin fudge, I said move! We can't get to you, it's a death trap."
"Droga- Seis metros acima- Maximus! Move it, he's a lost cause." Bad's arms tighten around Cellbit's midsection as the code monstrosity flashes a brilliant neon green and quietly the Brazilian counts down, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. "Cinco. Quatro. Três. Dois." He reaches zero. Another flash. Philza's shriek of alarm rises just as the monster falls, dropping from the sky like a stone, a flickering lance of black and green that pierces the air with a horrible whistling noise as it imbeds itself in Foolish's chest with a grusome squelch.
The fact that the world does not go silent is perhaps worse than the fact that something in Bad's brain does. Suddenly it's not him holding up Cellbit, it's Cellbit holding up him as he presses the point of his nose into the other's cap, just barely peeking over to see the rush of golden blood spill across the dirt. Hands on his wrists then, a hard squeeze, and Cellbit breathes deeply, encouraging the other to breathe with him.
Philza swears a blue streak, Fit flying past him with his trident to land a blow on the main code creature. Said creature, disengaging, flying above to swoop towards Maximus. Maximus, standing ready with his shield, blocking the hit with a loud thunk just in time for Philza's arrow to strike true. Around and around and around the fight goes, the players devouring golden apples and climbing atop dirt pillars to get out of the line of fire, the code creatures rising up and away to regroup before diving down to resume the clash below.
BBH breathes. Cellbit very carefully does not move as his nails sharpen and unsharpen into vicious claws, the wrists in his grip flexing as the other pushes down the urge to do something incredibly violent.
"Cellbit." The other nods slightly. "I am very, very tempted to do something I might regret."
"Don't." A growl rises in Bad's throat but the Brazilian, to his credit, doesn't flinch. "We have a plan."
"F̶u̶d̶g̴e̴ the plan."
"No." Philza's next volley strikes one of the split-offs of the number monster dead on, causing the original to stumble in the air. "It's working. Watch."
And he is watching, of course he is- watching as Foolish's chest continues to rise and fall in sharp stutters, the hole that the monster had left in his gut closing painfully slowly as ichor continues to drip from the wound in awful spurts. The ground around the shark hybrid is awash in glistening silver as the moon catches on the growing puddle of the man's blood and Bad watches, chin digging into Cellbit's head, as the Brazilian steadfastly avoids looking anywhere near where Foolish had been downed.
"This isn't a sacrifice I was willing to make, Cellbit. I never wanted any of this."
"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly plan for things to go this way."
"Things never go to plan with you in charge." Biting. Bitter.
"And where was this when we were planning this stuff out? Little late for regrets, Badboyhalo." BBH pauses for a moment, then finally lets the tips of his fingers settle into wicked-looking claws. Again, Cellbit refuses to flinch in his arms. "Fair. Just let the others do the fighting, you are here to protect me and I'm here to observe. We'll step in if we need to."
It takes a lot for Bad to keep from snarling something cruel but somehow he manages, instead choosing to focus on the fight still spiraling on around them. High above, the three code creatures gather into one large, buzzing mass, the edges of which fizzle and fragment into binary before reforming with little crackles of static electricity.
In a hiss of ozone and fury, the monster swoops in. The rest of the party is ready.
Fit places down tnt, blowing a hole in the ground around the center point of the creature's next attack, Philza, the most heavily armored of the lot. Around the rim of the hole, Maximus places down water to stall the code entity's movements, just in time for the monster to land. In the center of the crater, the avian swipes at the slowed creature with his sword, a wooden trap in his other hand instead of his usual shield.
"Hey, hey! Little low here, little low- shoot it!" Philza's voice rises above the din and Fit is all too happy to comply, pulling out his gun to unload a full clip into the cloud. Each resonant bang has Cellbit's grip clenching tighter around Bad's wrists and against his will, he feels a stab of sympathy for the cryptologist.
While their mystery solving shenanigans were generally successful, they often led to no end of trouble and trauma for the main core of the team- Cellbit, Maximus, and himself. Guns were just another thing on the long list of tools the Federation had used to try and silence Cellbit and being so close to Fit's rapid fire pistolwork had the Brazilian's usual rock steady nerves a bit shaken.
Foolish groans again and BBH ducks his head and closes his eyes, pressing his face into the top of Cellbit's head and clutching him all the tighter, something the other man seems to appreciate.
"Halo. Halo, watch- they've almost got it," he whispers, tone airy with anticipation and suppressed fear.
And have it they do, Fit's efforts making the code monster stumble and splash about into the water, giving Philza the opportunity he needs. The box in his hands unfolds rapidly and the avian places it in the ground before baiting the creature forward- then a loud snap, the trap closing around the entity with a sense of finality.
They did it.
But it's not over, not yet. Cellbit pulls away to join the others, clucking over scrapes and scratches, everyone clapping each other on the back and passing around congratulations for pulling off the plan with aplomb.
"Ay, nice work everybody! It's not Osito Bimbo, but eh, leverage acquired!"
And Bad, Bad slips off silently to kneel at Foolish's side, the golden blood soaking into his pants to stain everything from the knee down a rich gold.
"Hey," he says quietly, placing a hand over the wound and pushing down slightly, as if mere pressure would encourage it to close faster. Foolish groans before opening his eyes a sliver, gaze narrowed to mere verdant emerald slits as he meets BBH's teary expression.
"Bad...?"
"Hey Foolish." The shark hybrid stutters out a rough breath, a terrible approximation of laugh.
"Hey Bad. It hurts."
"I know. I don't think any of the others saw you, you know. Not die. But we need to get you up and moving." He turns to look over his shoulder in a quick glance, checking the position of the others. "Soon, yeah. I think they're about to head over to the respawn room they set up, Forever should be over there."
Foolish's eyes widen slightly at that before narrowing with pain.
"I don't... I can't Bad. It's not..." Bad hushes him, laying a hand over Foolish's mouth and pressing harder on the wound, tacky blood rising up around his fingers. He bows over the other's prone body, expression miserable but resolute.
"I need you to listen to me, okay? I know thinking is hard right now, so just listen to me. You just survived a wound that would kill anyone else and Forever is going to know because you didn't respawn. We need to get you up and get you moving because there are going to be questions and if things go bad, you need to be able to run away."
Foolish's hand trembles as it rises to meet Bad's, still firm against the wound. Somehow a smile works its way to the shark hybrid's face, sharp teeth glinting with blood in the moonlight as his eyes crease at the corners, tears gathering like silver on his lashes.
"Bad. I can't." The warm chest under Bad's hand rises and falls, then rises again, shaky. "It hurts. It hurts, it hurts- I can't, please don't make me."
Resolution becomes impassivity, black skin and white eyes freezing like stone.
"There will be questions."
"I can't run."
"Then..." They breathe. And breathe. "Then I suppose we better answer them."
It is with grim determination that Bad pulls out his grim reaper cloak from his backpack, levering Foolish up to lean against his torso to better wrap the garment around his midsection, tying it as tightly as he dares to staunch the bleeding. The dark fabric hides the gold well enough, but there's little that can be done for how pale the hybrid goes when the other forces him to stand, pulling his arm over his shoulders to allow the hybrid to lean on him.
Silently, Bad allows his grip on his form to slip slightly, a few inches of height adding themselves to his frame to make the angle less painful on his friend.
By the time the two of them make it over to where everyone is gathered by the Brazilians' Favela and the beds laid down in the central square, the ruckus is in full swing; shouts of anger, outcries of surprise, and accusations flying left and right, the noise of which easily making its way to Foolish and Bad as they slowly climb up the hill to reach the others. Sharp-eyed as always, it's Cellbit that notices them first.
"Foolish! Bad! What happened, where were you? We were getting worried, did Foolish not set his spawn here?" The cryptologist stands slightly apart from the rest of the party, moving to meet them, but soon the others join him with voices rising anew.
"Nah mate, Foolish slept in the same bed as I did. Man's feet stuck waaay off the edge, it was funny." Philza, plopping down torches around the Favela, slightly distracted with keeping the area ablaze with their golden light.
"Whaaaat? Then- how did he only get here now?" Maximus, standing near-
"Did he run down to the battle to try and help but didn't make it in time?" Fit, frowning, as he sidles closer to-
"No way, man. Didn't you- ah, fuckin'. See it? Took a big wound from the number thing, but he didn't respawn." Forever, who moves to stand behind-
Cellbit. Who towers monolithic and backlit by the glow of the Favela, perched at the very top of the hill. His shadow looms down over the duo, Foolish's eyes glazed over with pain and weary delirium as he meets the cryptologist's gaze.
"From that height and with that amount of force, you really should have died. But you didn't respawn, and you're still injured, so that obviously means you didn't die. And Bad was really upset when he saw you go down, which means he knew this would probably happen, and he's still with you, which means he's on your side here." Cellbit's eyes are cold like an iced-over pond as he turns to stare right at BBH, tumultuous thoughts swirling beneath the surface.
"Badboyhalo, what is going on?" Bad can feel his face drop with dull resignation and something in Cellbit's expression cracks at the sight. "Halo..."
The implied plea is never one he gets to answer because Foolish, living up to his name, beats him to it.
"I can't die." The shark hybrid's face is impassive, stretched into a rictus-like parody of a grin, eyes bright like polished jade but undoubtedly hazy. "I'm a totem, I can't die."
Whip quick- "How can you be a totem, they're inanimate objects." The grin grows wider, grows fangs.
"I'm a god. A small one, but it counts." Behind Cellbit, Philza goes very still.
"That still doesn't make any sense, we have concrete evidence that the Federation doesn't think gods are real. There's no way they'd let one onto the server." Cellbit flashes a quick look at the apparent humanoid totem before turning his attention back to BBH. "Gods are just things that humans don't understand, right?"
"Mate..." Philza's wings are spreading wide as the avian turns to look down at Bad and Foolish, worry clear on his face, though Cellbit pays him no mind, choosing instead to stare at the duo intently.
"Well?"
"Well what?" Bad wraps an arm around the shark hybrid's chest as he speaks, fingers finding purchase in the fabric still tied there. "I don't know what you want me to tell you."
Cellbit just scoffs, "There is literally no way."
"I could smite you. If you want." Claws press tightly into the wound, straining, as Foolish's grin eases into something just this side of sly, mind somehow well beyond the pain. "I'd have to ask the Federation but they were eager enough to get me on here, I'm sure they wouldn't mind. They like making people happy, me especially."
The world seems to hold its breath and Foolish. Keeps. Talking.
"I figured it out early, you know? They just want us happy, they keep saying it. The books, the bears- they want us to like it here and I'm a five star review, baby!" The words drip from the totem's mouth in slips and starts, drawled out through jagged shark teeth, still locked in a horrible smile. "I gave it all up yeeeeaaarrrs ago but I was so cool, you know? A real killer, a totem of death. I could smite people- bang, bang! Whole temples were dedicated to me, tell 'em Bad!"
By now BBH is supporting most of Foolish's weight, though it feels like far more has just been added to his shoulders as the eyes of a third of the island's population turn to him with varying levels of fear and disapproval. Standing in their shadow, something in him can't help but feel small, especially when Cellbit turns to him with a familiar expression- as if faced with a puzzle to be picked apart and dissected for the info held within.
"You said you don't remember anything from before the island." Somehow, when Cellbit says it, it doesn't sound like an accusation.
"It's hard to forget something that you are." Despite remaining in the dark cast over them by the hill, Foolish's eyes seem to glow as he straightens up, taking a step forward away from Bad's support. The cloth around his torso unravels, falling away to reveal the grisly wound in his chest, still oozing golden ichor. "Power has a habit of bubbling up. They just told me to keep quiet and play nice, and then everything would work out fine. As I said... The Federation really wanted me here."
"You're in contact with the Federation. You're a traitor!" Forever shouts, shoving Cellbit to the side to level a glare at them. "You- You fucking liar."
Foolish just continues to smile, even as the rest of the party begins to mumble their dissent, hissing their growing concerns to each other. Then Fit steps forward, tossing a bomb up and down in one hand.
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I say we just found a prime source of information. And if he's so good about keeping quiet, it's a pretty good thing he also can't die apparently either."
"Hey! HEY!" Cellbit flaps his arms but is soundly ignored as Philza sweeps him to the side, gaze flinty as he begins to mutter in his ear, glancing Foolish's way every few seconds though the totem has yet to move or make any action beyond smiling. And still, blood continues to pour forth from the wound.
Bad's heart squeezes in his chest and he blinks harshly, trying to ignore what it's telling him in favor of following his head. To interfere now...
Then, quietly, just barely loud enough for BBH to hear- "It's okay, you know." Foolish's mouth barely moves as he whispers the words, utterly calm despite the agony he must surely be in and the hatred and fear rumbling to life at the top of the hill. "It's not like they can kill me."
Oh. Okay. Bad's form begins to ripple and shift, old memories of his own rising to the surface as he lets himself recall a piece of he past he never cared to remember.
Choice made.
"You know..." The voice that emerges from that newly fanged mouth borders on a growl, the towering demon- now Foolish's height at a respectable 7 feet- stepping forward to stand firmly at the totem's side with a wicked grin, white eyes shadowed by the hood of his jacket. Bad extends a hand and his scythe drops into it from his inventory, which he then leans against his shoulder in a move that aims for casual and lands firmly in carefully controlled violence instead. "He's not the only one with a past." He takes the chance afforded to him by everyone's sudden shock, stealing a peek at Cellbit to gauge his reaction.
It's- not as bad as he expected. Horrified, yes, but not scared. It reads something closer to sick fascination and a grim corner of Bad's heart rejoices at that. It's not the time, of course, but small mercies.
"Philza." The avian starts at being directly addressed, hand digging sharply into the cryptologist's shoulder next to him. "You have a pretty decent memory, Mr. 'I-have-a-son-now-I-guess,' Why don't you share with the class who Foolish's favorite target for smiting was?"
"You were, Bad." The answer is instant, if a little shaky with concealed worry and anger. "And you deserved it most of the time, too."
"Yeah," BBH's grin is the furthest thing from nice. "I had a bit of a thing about damage being done to what was mine- eggs and people especially."
The smile disappears from his face and Foolish carefully doesn't flinch at the sudden shift in tone, choosing instead to embrace it by subtly leaning into Bad's shoulder as a show of solidarity. In return, the demon wraps an arm around his friend's chest to cover the wound with his hand in a move that appears possessive but runs closer to an act of support.
"I don't want to be your enemy, guys, but I will if I have to. I've known Foolish a lot longer than I've known any of you and if you try to hurt him, you will regret it."
Hidden slightly behind the avian, Cellbit looks lost, a little surprised at the statement, before understanding and sorrow pass over his face. "I-"
He gets cut off by Philza flaring his wings in warning as Forever shrieks in anger, Fit and Maximus stepping up on either side of him to point their weapons at the duo.
"What the fuck?! You threaten us? You are working with the island Federation, you are talking to them, and you threaten us? We'll kill you!"
"Guys-!"
"Cellbit, mate, stay-"
Foolish's laughter rises above it all, something shrill thick in his voice. "Did you- Do you really think any of that makes sense? Do you think we wanted to be stuck here?"
"Maybe not," Maximus pipes up, brow curled up with confliction, "but you are here now. You know things, the rules beyond the rules, and the server makes allowance for you. For you both, yes? And you are dangerous. If your past has influence on you and you were not good people, maybe you will- eh, harm us. What... Did you do before all this, Bad?"
Everyone looks at the demon expectantly, the silence stretching taut between them like a piano wire until Philza walks up to the front of the pack, garroting it with a cruel note in his voice.
"You were a cult leader."
It takes a moment for Bad to find his voice. "Yes. I was."
"A patron for that fucking egg, wanted to sacrifice people to it. You'd twist their minds all up until they'd help you with whatever you want, then leave them for your eldritch patron to consume once they stopped being useful."
"I'm not that person anymore, Angel of Death." Bad's eyes blaze from beneath his hood, face invisible in the dark except for the whites of his eyes and snarling teeth. "I'll thank you not to bring up old wounds."
"Old losses more like," the avian hisses, feathers beginning to rattle threateningly on his back. Behind him, Forever and the others have pulled out their shields, either wary of the potential conflict or all too eager to jump in. "Are you enjoying playing the same game all over again? Drop enough hints, get people paranoid, then suddenly you have your 'Theory Bros' ready to jump wherever you lay out hints that there's something to jump to."
"Philza Minecraft, you take that back."
"Why are you getting all defensive now." Foolish chimes in, swaying lightly on his feet. "Bad. Bad, look at me."
He giggles, just a shade off from madness, and all eyes turn to him as he lifts a hand to press Bad's more tightly to his chest, golden blood staining their entwined fingers. "They can't hurt us. Any fight they start, you'll win. I can help, see?" Blood drips, drip, drips to the hill beneath their feet. "I can... I can help."
Bad- pauses. Lets his focus drift almost entirely to Foolish, taking in his gentling smile, his slitted eyes, his dreamy expression.
"Are you sure? You've lost a lot of blood." The totem leans more heavily into his side, dropping his head to muffle his soft, straining laughter in BBH's shoulder.
"If they have it their way, I'll be losing more. I want to go home, Bad. Please."
"Then hold on, I'll-" an arrow brushes his cheek, leaving behind a thin red line in the black flesh and pushing the demon's hood back to reveal his Stony, nonplussed expression. Slowly Bad turns to face the crowd at the top of the hill, something dark and dangerous in his eyes.
Surprisingly, it's not Philza holding the bow, though the avian certainly has his sword out, an air of tension about him.
It's Cellbit.
The crossbow in his hands has a barely noticeable shake to it as he lowers it, peering over the draw with stormy eyes. "I don't want to fight you, Badboyhalo. Just- just calm down, we can talk it out. Please."
BBH thumbs away the blood in a slow motion, taking a long moment to look at the crimson. Foolish, too, leans over to peer at the cut, eyes flashing dangerously before clouding over like a summer haze.
"Huh," the totem says in a low tone, the word dragging out to hang in the air like a stone. "I don't like that."
"I don't either. For people who just want to talk, they seem to like violence a lot." The demon turns his gaze upon the party still stood atop the hill and takes a step toward them, away from Foolish. Bringing his gold-stained fingers to his lips, he smiles something dark, wicked, and cruel- an in-joke, just for him and the totem. "Power has a habit of bubbling up, you said. I think I'd like a taste."
To Cellbit, he suddenly knows what it's like to be trapped in a little boat of light, the shadowed sea lurking hungrily below.
"You!" Forever shouts, pushing his way to the front with his sword in hand, "I'm gonna die before you hurt anyone, okay!? You're going down Badboyhalo." With a wild scream, the Brazilian runs past Cellbit's desperate grab, past Philza's flapping wings, and dashes right for BBH with his sword outstretched.
Golden blood stains Bad's lips as he presses his index and middle fingers to his lips, taking a kittenish lick of the fluid before grinning, power already coursing through his veins.
A crack- bones shifting, popping out of place, clothes flowing out to match the expanding body within, Bad's scythe lengthening, sharpening, his horns shifting to match. Teeth, too, long and white, needle-sharp in a mouth that grins and grins and grins, growing impossibly wide as Bad's eyes squint in mocking pleasure. A massive hand the size of a dinner plate flies out, catching the Brazilian by the face before snapping his neck like a toothpick, the body falling limp and dissolving into items and exp on the ground as the man is whisked away by respawn.
The monster known as Badboyhalo steps up to defend his friend, Foolish finally slumping to kneel on the ground behind him. Together they smile, expressions joyless and all too ready for what's to come as blood pools on the ground around them, red and black and shadowed gold.
"So. Who's next?"
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