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"I mean, we have no guarantee the Luxio actually caused the kill here, beyond her assumption. Maybe the mafia just fucking targeted Rascal while Lexx hid behind her, end of, and the fact Lexx got targeted by a swap had nothing to do with it. But also, maybe Rascal was babysitting somebody else...

Dave scratched his chin, frowning. "Yeah. Something I've been thinking about Nefari's claim is that it was really fucking dumb to reveal it right out of the gate. Because she announced she doesn't actually get the ability until later, the arsonist knows exactly how to disable her before it ever...

Dave squinted at Tefiren. It was way too early in the morning for this kind of galaxy-brain bullshit. He chugged down the rest of his beer and threw the empty bottle off into the void. "Okay, first of all, why the fuck would somebody else need to bring up strongman kills first, when they were a...

Dave nodded slowly. "Right. That's good." He looked away. "And yeah. They are." He paused for a few seconds, glancing back at him. "Get some sleep, I guess." Fuck. He sighed, dropping his head heavily back on his pillow. <><><><><>

Dave kept his gaze on him, pausing. "Supposedly there are spies who don't even know they're spies. Some kinda mind-control. Maybe you should try to get yourself checked out for that. Just to be safe."

Dave furrowed his brow. "Well, Blacklight is hidden from the natives, but not from us, so one would think that wouldn't be enough. If being hidden is a problem, what can make people completely invisible? Other than, you know, you and your illusions." Fuck. Was Soda the spy? Should they go try to...

Dave frowned. Maybe they’d be able to talk to people, see if Pop had an alibi. He couldn’t be in two places at once, right? “Another possibility,” he said, “is there’s another Arceus here. One from a different universe, just itching to take over this one.” He looked back at Soda.

Dave narrowed his eyes, looking away. Well. They'd been discussing telepathically how the attack might have been Judgment, hadn't they? "Think Pop could be a spy?"

"Yeah, you'd think." Dave paused, watching him. "Know anyone who'd fit the bill?"

"I don't think you're a spy." Well. He couldn't be very sure, could he. Anyone could be a spy if supposedly they didn't even know they were. "I'm saying I was thinking it was a different person, and that that was you. Not a whole lot of other people I know who are invisible and give a shit."

"That's what I'm saying. Doesn't seem very in character for whatever the fuck they were describing. For a moment there I thought it might be you." He narrowed his eyes at Soda.

Dave looked away. "Well, I don't know, there was something invisible there that yanked my fucking soul back into my body while whispering gentle encouragement and if that was the goddamn spy I think that raises a lot of questions."

[[...or that!]]

Dave blinked. What? He was just... what? Bulletproof hadn't been everyone's first fucking thought here? "Well, I figured it couldn't actually be you being bulletproof because if it was then announcing it to everyone when the mafia probably has ways to nullify it would be fucking suicide." He...

Dave reached for one of Petram's cupcakes, rolling his eyes briefly at the assurances that they were healthy. Well, couldn't be worse than nothing. ...They were actually pretty damn good. Credit where it was due, he supposed. Mia was still hovering around his bed. Honestly he was kind of...

Dave spends most of his time with Mia, though less so since coming back from the dead. The other person he hangs out with most is Brisa, although he's also spent a fair amount of time with Owen, as his roommate. He is a regular at the X-Eye Cauldron. Mia likes to train at the Colosseum, often...

Dave frowned, thinking. What if... what if Tefiren wanted people's guesses to rule out that they could be that role, if they were guessing something they wouldn't have multiples of? Would the mafia get anything out of that? But it wasn't like someone'd guess he was a cop or whatever anyway. In...

Dave peered at Tefiren. What on Earth. He wracked his brain for any way that making people guess could possibly be actually important and not some weird ego-trip on the Archopy's part, and the only things he could come up with involved the organizers having gone batshit insane. Well, on his own...

Dave sighed. "Look, some people like to vote for someone randomly right off the bat just to get people talking. It doesn't mean they know anything or have a reason. They just rolled a fucking die. And they're not expecting whoever it is to reveal their role immediately, which'd be really fucking...

[[I think you are, yeah - unless something’s really flown over my head the only suspicion that’s been going around between the three of us was elyvorg suspecting Chibi based on a misunderstanding of what Chibi was arguing, which has now been cleared up.]]