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Dave raised an eyebrow. "'Dark warrior', huh. That's dramatic." This interview thing was pretty inane, but at least he was well used to it from back home. "Fire away."

“I haven’t already decided shit,” Dave snarled. “Sure sounds like she has, though. Before she even fucking saw this.” Brisa's face fell, in a mixture of disappointment, apprehension, a flash of something from the Voidlands. Sombra's stare bored through him. His gut roiled and twisted as he...

Dave stared at Sombra, heart pounding uncomfortably. "Soda's given plenty of fucking information. What, he's suspicious now because he also isn't a huge fan of being suspected on the grounds of existing as what he is? I would've thought you'd be pretty fucking familiar with--" A ding from...

Anger rose in his chest. "The fuck do you mean, the others aren't capable? That's news to me. Hello Maple with all of her highly suspect fucking nonsense and threats to murder everyone. Have you ever even talked to him?"

Dave glanced at Sombra as Shadow looked up in alarm. "What, why? He's a bit of a dick, doesn't understand the concept of privacy, but he's basically a good guy. I like him. More than the rest of the fucking God Squad, at any rate." Shadow watched anxiously, ears flat.

The pain in her voice was palpable, her ears drooping. Dave thought of a thousand times of Jean just like that. Fuck. He put his bottle down on the bedside table with a heavy sigh and awkwardly massaged his eyelids. Paws were hard. "Look, I'm sorry. We can spar sometime if you want. Just...

Snap, twist, crush. Sure, he could take a drubbin’. Dave’s grip tightened on his bottle. “Look, I just don’t really feel like more fucking fighting right now.” There was an unexpected tremble to his voice and he looked away, took a stiff breath. What the fuck. Shadow raised his head, ears...

“A beer’s not going to break any of your bones. Or, you know, temporarily kill you. That’s a plus.” Shadow let out a quiet whine that he ignored. Brisa did fight a lot. She sparred with Mia a bunch, which was good because the rest of the time Mia loved to be sparring with fucking Nate or his...

Dave glanced at her, sipping his beer. “I don’t know, I’m not quite Pokémon enough to be dying to fight people just for the hell of it. But more power to you.” Brisa often talked about this idea of understanding and communicating with people through fighting, and had a literal move to do that...

Dave raised his eyebrows. It checked out that that was a Pokémon’s idea of therapy, he supposed, in the sort of way it checked out that Pokémon flirted by beating each other up. “So you, uh, enjoyed it?” Did people enjoy therapy? Maybe Pokémon would enjoy therapy by combat. That tracked.

"No idea who that is." Dave sipped his drink. "But, uh, I'm guessing they're not secretly an emotionless husk putting up a fake-cheery front? Because that's what Bean is."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "Therapy? I hope it's not with fucking Bean."

"Yeah, no shit." Dave rolled over again and shook his head, accepted the beer and cracked it open. "What have you been up to since the Worldcore, anyway?"

Dave let out a long sigh, rolled onto his back. "Well, Bean's not a spy. Interdimensional organization of god accountability is apparently too busy liberating souls from all the eternal torture dimensions to deal with genocidal tyrants extinguishing all mortal life, which is a real fucking...

"I'm home." Dave shut the door and collapsed on his bed without waiting for an answer. Talking with Bean had been kind of a dead end for the most part. Didn't seem to have a clue, or at least acted like he didn't have a clue, about the scale or origins of the organization. They'd learned a few...

...What in God's fucking name. Who's going to get Diyem? No offense but somehow I'm not sure a fucking Mudkip can drag him back to Destiny Village on his own.

Like whether he was the spy was even the main thing. Bean might claim all they did was liberate Hell-dimensions, but somehow he wasn't thrilled by the creepy organization of all-seeing emotionless overlords. All the same, they probably weren't going to get much more useful out of Bean. He...

[[not Firefighter though]]

[[Yes]]

[[I am also a Reluctant Something which makes me believe Wes's claim; doesn't prove he's not mafia but that all checks out]]