Erebos, the dubious Demon prince, adept shadow-weaver, near slayer of Kamae, and silver-tongued extraordinaire, lived in a crummy shack on the most backwater of backwater planets Marrow could imagine. Why HERE? Was it supposed to be laughably ironic? 'Violent being from another dimension finds solace in a summer cottage.' The wood wasn't even silver Ajisa like one would expect, but a strange stripped log of a deep dark hue. Fitting its' owner, she supposed. The Saiyan knelt, fingers running over the withered stems and petals of long-dead plants. He was either lazy, forgetful, or had simply been away for a long time. Considering his presence on Konats, she assumed the latter.
The woman stood, thoroughly unimpressed. She pushed on. Her left wrist had a plastic grocery bag looped around it, complete with assorted junk foods and cola, her right hand raising to rap on the abode's front door. Knock knock knock. "Erebos." She said plainly. His battle power was clear as day from within. She detected it almost as quick as she had Crotona's. Did they not see a purpose in laying low after getting practically killed in a cataclysmic battle? Probably not. From what Kamae had told her, Erebos had seldom lost a battle.
Relaxing on his hammock that doubled as his bed, the Demon sighed happily, letting his mind drift on the wind. Thinking back on the good times, and trying his best to ignore the bad. He was fairly good at that— blocking out bad memories and such. Even so, this particular bad memory had a physical reminder. The crystalline spike in his chest pulsed every so often, forcing something akin to a hiccup out of him.
It was getting annoying.
At the very least, there was immediately something to distract him from this torment. A knock at the door? Erebos flung himself from the hammock, letting his novice skill of flight right him along the way to a standing position.
As much as he was enjoying the solitude, he also despised not doing something. His mind craved activity. It’s why he’d planted the garden, and summarily why he’d let it die in a few days just to see how they’d look.
The door opened with a wave of his hand. Despite losing access to shadowy magics, Erebos still held control over telekinetic abilities. Perhaps because it was an inherent skill and not a learned one? Who knows.
From his vantage point at the humble kitchen table, he gave Marrow a curious glare. An odd visitor, but she had some sort of snack, and so he was appeased.
”Paint Girl.” He said, nodding at her.
With another wave the door swung wider. Part of him wanted to laugh. Ramen was wrong, it seemed— the next guest most definitely knocked.
”I’ve got some stew cooking right now. Should be done in about ten minutes.” As he kicked his feet up on the table, he circled his finger in a lazy way, and the spoon in the pot on the stove stirred itself dutifully.
"Shadow boy." She moved naturally through the opened doorway as if this hut was a second home to her. "Nice fit." He was dressed in a gray broad-shouldered single-piece vest and pants, a far cry from the sporadic armor he had worn during their fight on Konats. Part of her idly wondered if he'd already recovered from her literal backstab. The parasite on his chest probably took most of his attention if he hadn't. "Chips - the wavy kind, nacho cheese triangles, sour gummies, and..." Marrow paused to check the label of the last confection: "Southern Tropic chocolate." The bag was tossed in Erebos' general direction without much care. The colorful sodas were set down on his kitchen counter to avoid the curse of fizz.
"And no. I'm not." She wasn't an anything when it came to food. As long as it wasn't rotten or poorly prepared, she'd eat it. "I didn't take you for a Namekian. Seen weirder, so it's not too surprising." If there was an empty chair in the room Erebos was seated, she'd take it but otherwise would remain standing, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. "Saw Crotona. She seemed alright if you ignore the Plato thing." Maybe that's why Erebos was so casual about letting her in. The Konatsian was his friend, and her wounds were superficial compared to his. Had he figured out she'd spared her?
Erebos floated over one of the soda cans and popped it open with his actual hand, sampling the flavor. Omega Thunder Cherry was certainly not his favorite, but a soda was a soda. The gummies were beckoned to his call as well, landing upon his lap, where the bag's top split open with little effort.
"The residence is a new thing. Was a wanderer for a good while, but settling down in a roundabout seemed like a nice change of pace. Namek's nice once you chill here long enough. No ruckus. Even when there's a world-ending threat, something about it is just more... Relaxing."
For a bit, he simply sat. Sipping on his drink and offering a free chair to the girl. He had a handful of spare seats on standby for whenever he had guests. Only about three, since he never expected to host more than Nero, Fend, Pankaa, or the odd stranger that trotted in.
"I was hoping you'd have an answer to that, but I suppose he really is linked to her soul or whatever." Erebos' features soured up. He hated having to deal with soul stuff. Always hard to pin down. Reminded him of that cursed ring business a couple months back. "Thanks, by the way. Noticed her injuries weren't as... Sticky, as mine. Figured you would've sliced an arm or lobbed a leg. Guess you were only in it for a favor, eh?"
In truth, Erebos wasn't sure why he let Marrow in. Perhaps he was too trusting, or perhaps he could sense the lack of murderous intent. Being around vile folk so long, it's not hard to tell when you're dealing with the softer sort.
"Speaking of... I hope this doesn't sound rude, but I imagine this isn't a house call for no reason. Can't imagine you're on Namek to see the sights, is what I mean. Or maybe you are here for a sight. One you're aiming to topple?"
"It's too quiet for me," She murmured, eyes wandering the room as if expecting something to randomly explode at any given moment. "I'm used to Earth. Konats had a similar rhythm. This place feels like I'm waiting to get attacked, but I don't know who or what's coming." She could best describe it as uneasy emptiness. Where most would feel relaxed and at peace upon the eternally sunny grassland planet, Marrow had never felt so unsafe before in her life. Marrow broke her silence by taking a sip of one of the unclaimed sodas, hardly noticing the taste or bubbly fizz.
"Hm." So Erebos didn't know the specifics? "If you weren't aware, it's not possession. As far as we know. I suppose it's accurate to call it a ghost hitchhiker. Crotona will probably be able to shake it off at will once she learns to control her anger." Or maybe not. That depended on what the Konatsian bothered doing. She didn't even seem to recognize that Plato was present at all, though surely Erebos would've said something to her by now. "I was security. As long as you and Crotona were dealt with, the details didn't matter."
Erebos wasn't stupid. His rightful assumption was, at least, a little too grandiose for her purposes. "If I have it my way, nothing gets blown up and it'll take them at least a few days before they even known I did anything. Big, flashy explosions always draw too many eyes. Though I suppose you and the Konatsian aren't in fighting form anyway. I've heard talk of Namek's defenders being undefeated, so, rather would avoid them."
"Honestly I'd prefer the possessed angle. Easier to exorcise. With this, it's all internal. Can't do much to help her."
Erebos was unfortunately well aware of the depths that Kashvar magic could reach. It was a school as old as darkness itself, or so they said. He'd never looked into the history that hard, so for now, he believed the tall tales. Plato was an interesting case, and one that corroborated just how powerful Konats really was beneath the surface.
Twirling the half-empty soda can at the tip of his finger (and using telekinesis to keep the drink inside from flying about), he raised a brow at the girl. "What, you think I won't show up to an old-fashioned throwdown? I'm plenty capable of knocking the paint off your wig, missy." The soda stopped, teetering on the tip of his nail. "Not that we have to fight. Since you don't have Kamae backing you up, it'd be... Rather messy."
Erebos flipped the can like a coin, letting it hit the table with a clatter, before suddenly righting itself. Amicable or not, he was keeping the truth of Namek's defenses close to the chest. Nero was a powerhouse, and his cavalcade of pals doubly so. But without Erebos, how would they fare? Regardless, he trusted them, and if it truly came down to it, he could try his hand at fighting a proper bout without shadows.
"Is this a job, too? If not, who says you gotta go through with it? Hell, even if it is, nobody's saying you have to either. Just relax, enjoy the sights, and go home. No harm no foul. Just tell your employer the planet's 'too hot' right now, or whatever lingo is modern for assassins-slash-thieves these days."
And since when were shadow-weaving Demons so interested in helping purge corruption? Marrow's eyes passed over Erebos. A second of observation. He liked to pretend he was still a neutral force. Yet he had easily fought off the impulse of the void and rejected Kamae's offer at extended power. He LIVED on NAMEK, for gods sake. The locals wouldn't let him stay if he was prone to stirring up trouble for them. Marrow couldn't place why, but she almost felt disappointed. Had she been searching for some form of kinship, only to see they were as far apart as Crotona was to her?
"In your state it'd be suicide." She said plainly. "Would you be OK with that? Are you willing to die for Namek?" Marrow took a long swig, crushing her can in one quick motion. "Not that you need to answer. As much grief as people give you, and you give yourself, you're a 'good' person, Erebos. I'm not." She fell silent, lips pursed. "I've grown a lot stronger since Konats, too." Unlike most Saiyans, the colorful criminal sounded almost... tired. Unwanting of the rapid power growth. For a moment, she let her natural guard slip, battle power sputtering to life like a dusty lantern JUST long enough for the Demon to feel it before it was snuffed out. "I don't do that for anyone. Not Kamae, not Crotona."
She stood, trailing into the kitchen and placing the neatly compacted can onto the counter while fetching another drink. "This time, it's for me," Her words came soft, nearly reluctant. "Nobody has to die for it. Namek is a stepping stone. It'd be easier for us both to pretend we weren't here when the time comes, and I'll be gone." Marrow stayed stock still for a few moments longer, lingering by the counter with an unreadable expression. "Stews nearly done. Pull it and the residual heat will cook the rest."
ANTISENSE is flickered off long enough for Erebos to get a grasp on her power before being turned back on
"I'm not sure. I know a lot of folks here would be willing to die for me. And I've been to Hell a couple times- its not so bad. Not if you know what you're doing, anyways."
Erebos had to ponder the question. Thinking about it whilst Marrow spoke, he made sure to extinguish the flame on the stove and telekinetically move the pot over just a bit. The smell wafted over, and he smiled. Just like home. Well, fifty homes ago, by his estimate. He'd learned the recipe a few galaxies over, when he was first exiled to the mortal plane by V'rim'thrak.
"I've killed more people than you can dream, kid. Razed planets. Bled dry the champions of small towns and licked the viscera clean from my blade while their siblings watched limbless. Does that make me a better person than you? Worse?" As he spoke, he checked his nails, as if this were a totally normal conversation topic. "Morality is what you make of it. I haven't decided that I'm good yet, and honestly, I don't think you've decided you're bad yet, either. If you were, Crotona wouldn't have had a chance to be possessed... Or ghost-piggybacked."
He'd let her take that how she wished, and finally sat up. From his pantry he pulled free fresh bread, which he'd baked with imported Earth grains, and from his cupboards he found two appropriately-sized bowls. Whilst the stew calmed, he got to slicing the loaf with a kitchen knife. Nice, thin slices, bringing symphonic crackles from the outer crust.
"All I know for sure is that I like this place." He glanced to Marrow, tossing the crunchy nub of the end of the bread at her. "And if you want, you can come to like this place too. Make it a... get-away, instead of a stepping stone."
Marrow thoughtlessly chewed on the offered bread, taste slipping past her mind. She had no reason to explain anything to him. What good would come from it? At best, he'd know she was weak; at worst, it'd be turned against her later. Yet Erebos' own story sparked something. Was he as formerly evil as he claimed to be? "They'll never know. The Namekians; whoever else lives here. And if they do, it's because you tell them or have told them, yet you're still here. A lot of stories about the planet's defense involve a shadow-slinging magic swordsman. That's the difference, isn't it?"
She swept across the shack like a storm, thoughts raging even as her body remained outwardly calm. "You've got a second chance. Maybe a third or a fourth, depending on how bad you were before. These people are willing to give it to you, and you've earned it. What 'evil' thing have you done recently, Erebos? For all, it looks like you've turned a new leaf." Her fists clenched, nails biting flesh. "Maybe you are still a monster. Rife with struggles and bloodlust. You can still choose. You have the option to stop whenever you want and live here on this nowhere island on this nowhere planet for the rest of your life and be at peace."
She sat. Posture slouched, hands clasped together, body hanging off the edge. "Maybe you don't want that. Your hands are too bloodied, your thoughts too dark, an obligation keeping you in the fight. Whatever you choose to do doesn't matter - what matters is that you got to CHOOSE to do it." Did she have a choice? A REAL choice that wasn't simply selecting between the good ending and endless torture? Marrow could very well walk off on her employer and never lift a finger in violence again if she really wanted to, but where would that leave her? Dying in a gutter somewhere, bitter, alone, worthless, without what every other living being had.
”The Namekians may not be aware, but I know. I’ll always know. A black mark in the deepest pits of my soul forever. I like to think it pretty’s up my backstory a bit, if nothing else.” He gave her a sly wink, letting her decide the meaning of the words as he finally grabbed a ladle and opened the lid.
Pleasant steam wafted from the pot. Veggies cooked perfectly, meat effortlessly tender, and a few secret spices from the demon realm. Nothing crazy for the mortal palate, but it’d certainly add some depth to the flavors. He took a deep, appreciative sniff, before spooning a very hearty portion into the first bowl.
As the bowl floated to the table, he couldn’t help but glance over at her. There was something sincerely wrong, it seemed. She didn’t have the opportunity to deny a request from her employer— whomever it was held something over her. He pursed his lips. How to proceed, he wondered.
”You always have a choice.” The lid closed, and he brought the other bowl, a pair of spoons and some napkins. ”The lack of choice is one in itself. Choosing to live by your binds is just as much a choice as breaking free.”
Before he dug in, he wheeled back around and grabbed the sliced loaf from the counter and set it down, grabbing three for himself and setting them in the plate next to his bowl.
”Don’t feel the need to explain if you don’t want. I’ve run into hundreds of predicaments like yours. Soul contract, indentured servitude, mind control, abusive girlfriend? Whatever it is, you’re the one in power. You just haven’t chosen to act on that yet.”
He took his first spoonful, and smiled. Perfectly tender cubes of bear meat. A delicacy on some planets, bear was always a favorite of his in recipes like this. Despite his enjoyment of it, he was never quite sure where he picked up the taste for it, though.
”You chose to spare Crotona from excessive pain. You chose to relax here with me instead of getting your job done as soon as possible. You chose to tell me you don’t have a choice. Keep choosing, and you’ll find the key to those chains faster than you think.”
Noticeably, he’d intentionally neglected to answer her question. What evil had he done lately? Even he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was time to balance things out, like Ward always waxed philosophically about.
"I have a choice," Marrow repeated dully. "The alternative isn't something I'm willing to face. Even if that means murder. Even if that means my own life is at risk." That was the crux. As much as she despised being used as a tool for some lofty vision of balance, a reality where Eris cut her off from the flow of emotions would leave Marrow hollow. Alone and empty like she had been for years. "I'm doing it for me." She admitted selfishly. "Because of it, I've felt alive. I've felt. That isn't something I had before. And I don't know what happens if that's taken away."
And to the world that had so uncaringly thrown her into a gutter to die like trash, Marrow had no love lost for reciprocating in blood. Innocent, guilty, villains, heroes; the afflicted Saiyan could care less about titles. Her upbringing and status had never been an excuse. Simply an explanation for those who wanted it. Yet even after Marrow had slaughtered possibly hundreds by this point, by her own hand or inaction, idiots like Russ and Erebos tried to convince her she had a chance. Hope; hope that something beyond her miserable existence of getting her next hit could exist.
"If it were me as I was now, she'd be dead," Crotona was a threat. The Konatsian had made her murderous disdain clear, and having seen her again on Namek, nothing had changed beyond knowing the name of her spirit jockey. "But..." Marrow exhaled, breath strangled. "That wasn't ME. Not some possession or mind control. I felt something at the moment. Something strong enough to compel me to not slay her where she stood, but I don't know what. I don't remember what it felt like or why it made me do that. And that's the worst part."
Interesting. Curious and odd and befuddling all at once. Something about her task changed who she was fundamentally. Was she a time-lost warrior? A puppet with tight strings? Maybe, when unshackled from her hex by the one who undid or implanted the curse, she lost a part of herself to them. Whatever the case, he had to let himself chuckle. Just a simple, dry laugh.
"Compassion, perhaps. Kinship where you hadn't expected it. She's angry, you know. A raging warrior. Reminds me of my cousins." He let himself smile at that. "I doubt it was anything as debauched as lording the victory over her, or even something as simple as pity. If you felt so lowly of her, you wouldn't have given a second thought to seeing her here on Namek. Hell-- you might've just slit her throat and been done with it for the mere trouble of having run into her again."
Erebos enjoyed his stew a bit more as he ruminated on the problem. Certainly a unique subsection of issues all tied together. Could he solve this one? Did he want to? It was a fun brain puzzle to enjoy whilst recovering. If she was willing, maybe he really could solve it.
"No, I think it's something more complicated than any of that. Give it some thought; try to figure out your reasons for yourself. I bet you'll be surprised by just how much control you actually have over things."
"She's the angriest person I've ever met," Marrow agreed with a grumble. "Not even Kamae or Fukushu could match it." It was almost refreshing. Plato, Russ, and Erebos all had that sense of underlying... not pity, but close. Crotona loathed her. Wanted nothing more than to KILL her. Their fight close to the end, bathed in complete silence, was cathartic. That was what she understood. It was so much easier to accept that everyone around her would hate her, want her dead. Marrow wished that her enemies were all like that.
"It was right after Plato revealed himself," The Saiyan thought aloud. "Right after that, where he was saying something stupid about destiny and guiding her to it. It was then that I snapped and whatever happened to Crotona happened." So it was probably something to do with him. "Whatever her problem is doesn't affect me anymore. She'll be heading back to Konats soon, as its primary guardian being gone isn't good news." That meant no Crotona backup for Erebos if Marrow decided to go loud on her little 'job' here. It was probably for the best. Crotona showing up to stop her on Namek would've made Marrow doubly regretful at not killing her when she had the chance.
The woman hissed a breath out through her teeth, cutting a chunk of bread free and dipping it - untouched side first - through the stew before taking a bite. "Maybe I'll find something new." Marrow didn't sound convinced. She'd been through the mental wringer in trying to figure out some other way free of acting as a lackey that didn't result in the permanent loss of emotion. Eris wasn't just the one providing them; she had rigged a failsafe to... permanently fuck with it. Said to be just in case someone else tried 'stealing' Marrow away from her.
"Maybe so, maybe no. Life is all about finding things out. I'm not your therapist, though, so you'll have to figure out the rest on your own. Just don't forget that you've, y'know, got options and such."
Erebos pondered where next to take the conversation. Helping the girl sort out her issues was fun and all, but not exactly the best conversation topic over stew. He twisted his spoon in the brown broth, the other hand propping up his cheek as he let his mind wander in infinite directions. Stuff like this was always the hardest; finding topics, that is.
"You got any other hobbies? Besides stabbing and snacking, I mean."
Thinking on it, Erebos did a lot of both those things. Perhaps it showed how human he was, or how demonic Marrow happened to be. Either way, it was a kinship they shared, in some odd sense. "I tried taking up knitting," he admitted, "But using those silly needles is so much more frustrating than you'd think. Fishing's kinda fun, though. Good places for it here on Namek."
Another bite of stew down the gullet. Maybe it needed some spice, now that he thought about it.
"I'm a big fan of movies, too. Arcosian cinemas in particular are pretty Avant Garde. Is that the word for it in common? Eh, whatever. You get the idea. Ever watch one? Usually the evil emperor guy wins at the end, and he sells the viewer some kinda product that helped him win. Talk about comedy!"
"Options." It was like a bitter pill she couldn't swallow or spit. It was so easy! Just do something else. There was always another way. What was she even doing here? What good would come from scoping out Erebos on a personal level? They were inevitably going to clash on the battlefield again when Marrow executed her plan.
If it came down to it, she'd fight him. Kill him if necessary. Marrow didn't necessarily want to, and she'd made that clear enough, but heroic idiots like him always threw themselves on the line for stupid reasons. It was doubtful Erebos could even put up a good fight with his injury.
Her eyes closed as he drifted toward more mundane topics, Marrow exhaling slowly. "Look. I can understand the effort, but maybe it's best if I left." She didn't need to make another Russ. The less Erebos knew about her and was able to see her as a person, the better.
"If you happen to show up on the opposite side of a battle again, I won't hesitate. Keep that in mind." Marrow moved for the door, leaving her gifted snacks behind. "Thanks for the stew." With that, she left, slipping out from the shack and out onto Namek proper.