[He's been watching and waiting for what feels like eons since his idiot family felt the need to get involved with this exorcist thing. Seth thought he'd be a fun diversion, maybe a good way to keep Lucifer off the scent of his waning loyalties, but he's never allowed to have nice things so now it's building into an entire family war that Seth really wanted to head off until he had more power.
Well, fuck them. He's still going to have his fun. The tree was a good kick-off to his terror campaign against the exorcist but it's time to up the ante, and Horus the numbskull has given him a perfect opportunity. Imagine being stupid enough to frequent the same restaurant multiple times with the person you're guarding when you look as distinctive as Horus? Couldn't be Seth.
I mean no one has tracked down his bar yet, definitely not
His plan is so intricate it's almost grueling. He has to hide his own distinctive looks without being too obviously in disguise when he slips into the restaurant. He has to keep an eye on the two men while tamping down his godly energy to avoid tipping off Horus. He has to intuit a few things about the exorcist from previous observation to decide when he should sneak away, and runs the real risk of coming face to face with Horus instead if he gets the timing wrong.
But in the end, it's all worth it. Seth only has to wait a few minutes for the exorcist to walk into the men's bathroom and find him sitting casually on the counter, one long leg crossed over the other and a sweet smile on his lips that does nothing to soften his ravenous stare.]
(( One of many perks of his training since... before he could even remember is that he has really good situational awareness. Which is to say, he's not easily startled by someone being in a place where, perhaps, he didn't expect them. At least, he's not outwardly startled.
What is startling is the intensity of the man's presence (and even then, Emmanuel suspects he's holding a lot back so as not to alert his companion outside; well, if this is who he thinks it may be). ))
He hops off the counter and crowds right into Emmanuel's space, curious to see if he can back the man up against a wall with the sheer force of his presence - using physical force is easily enough done if not, but this would be so much more fun.]
(( He can't help the way his chin lifts in defiance, even as he takes a half-step back. He values his personal space, especially when dealing with unknowns. His suspicion of who (what) this is isn't confirmation. Emmanuel steels himself, then, against all his better judgement, pivots on the ball of his foot to turn his back to the god. ))
A hand that feels both too big and too strong to match up with the body to which it's attached closes around the back of Emmanuel's neck and yanks him back, then shoves him into the nearest wall with his cheek crushed to the cool tile. Seth uses the full length and weight of his body to pin Emmanuel in place, quite fairly assuming that leaving his arms free won't give him much of an advantage in this position.]
See, [He snarls, mouth a breath away from Emmanuel's ear,] you're still not taking this seriously, and I'm starting to get insulted. Are you really too stupid to understand what you're up against at this point?
(( The violence comes too quickly for Emmanuel to even feel the intent of it and react. Unsurprising on a very logical level, given who and what he's up against. But where's logic when an enemy lays hands on him? Where's logic when the air pressure seems to grow exponentially and he finds his head practically bounced off the nearest wall.
In the dizzy split second after, he finds himself thinking abut how filthy that tile he can see far too closely is. Of course he struggles against the press of Set behind him. It's instinct, but the god's strength is far too much for even a well trained hunter to match. Once you're caught, you're caught. Eyes narrowed, Emmanuel tries to crane himself enough to at least glimpse at Set when he speaks to him. ))
And what would your suggestion be? Walk away? Let it happen?
Walk away, obviously! [Words filled with scorn and humor in equal measure.] You've got no business here, Exorcist. I'm not a demon. Your church got it wrong. There's no reason for you to interfere with my work and you couldn't manage it even if you wanted to.
[Not to mention that an exorcist on his tail would not do good things for his alliance with Lucifer!! But Set's hoping to be rid of Emmanuel before he figures out that part, which might go a long way to explain the excessive violence and drama of his responses. This is nothing less than a terror campaign to try and chase the exorcist out of town.]
You have two options: walk away, or die. I hope I don't have to convince you how capable I am of making the second happen by now.
Edited 2025-04-14 01:36 (UTC)
cw for some vague suicidal ideation-adjacent thinking
(( Death is probably the least frightening thing to threaten Emmanuel with. He doesn't seek it out, he never has, but he's not afraid of it, either. It's certainly been no deterrent to him all these years.
Despite being smashed against a filthy bathroom wall, something perhaps a little unhinged flickers in those dark eyes and one corner of his mouth curls up. A smile? A sneer? ))
Everything dies. You haven't done your homework if you think an exorcist is the only thing I am.
[Set will give Emmanuel one thing - that's an extremely attractive look he just got on his face. The context just happens to make it more enraging than attractive, so Emmanuel manages to dodge a come-on but only to receive more of a beating instead.
He backs up just enough to grab Emmanuel by the arm and spin him around, then locks his other hand right back around Emmanuel's neck to hold him in place and punches him solidly in the gut.]
So be it. You get the third option - spend the rest of your life in a constant waking nightmare that makes you wish I'd shown you the mercy of killing you.
feel free to have Horus bust in before Emmanuel gets himself hospitalized or worse
(( He's too dizzy when Set spins him around. Concussed from hitting the wall? Hopefully that's it. The room doesn't stop spinning immediately when he does and eyes go unfocused for just a second or two.
If not for Set holding him by the throat,t he blow would've doubled him over. He tastes blood in his mouth, unsure if it's from his initial meeting with the wall or of it's coming up from inside thanks that punch. One option is far worse than the other and he doesn't really have the time to analyze it properly.
What a threat. This guy... Emmanuel can't help rasping out a bitter laugh. A walking nightmare? Please! That's all his life's been for the last thirteen years. Thirteen years of grief, of a loss that can never heal, of screaming at his own god until his throat's raw against the cruelty of having been born with another and now being alone. Thirteen years of being a ghost, a walking corpse whose heart and soul were long gone. Thirteen years haunted by his brother's face in the mirror. The truest hell is the one he faces every day.
Oh? Is he still laughing? ))
You really don't know anything about me.
(( And Set has the gall to be pissed at Emmanuel's ignorance. Ironic. ))
Edited (oh the typos you'll find) 2025-04-14 03:40 (UTC)
[Just as Set's hand tightens around Emmanuel's throat enough to block his windpipe, the bathroom door slams open and Horus stands in the doorway with rage rolling off him like heat waves. As suddenly as he was first grabbed and pinned, Set lets Emmanuel drop to the ground with a loudly muttered curse.
And thanks to the steady increase of followers joining Set at his cult compound, he's more than powerful enough to shoulder-check Horus out of the doorway and slip past him.]
Damnit... [Horus glances Set's retreating form to Emmanuel and back. Emmanuel's badly hurt, there's blood everywhere, but the slippery bastard has finally shown his face! What should he do...?]
[A few seconds after Set disappears out the restaurant's employee entrance, Osiris enters through the front door and rushes toward the collision of warring energies that drew him here. It seems to be coming from the bathroom...
... oh no. No.]
Go after him, [Osiris tells his son in a calm but firm tone that brooks no argument.] I'll take care of the priest. Go.
[He casts his gaze around the room once Horus is gone. Perfect - hand dryers instead of paper towels, and no time to check for toilet paper in the handful of stalls a few steps away. With the amount of blood staining the wall and Emmanuel's face and head, Osiris really has no choice but to unzip and shrug off his high-collared jacket, then pull off the t-shirt underneath to use as a makeshift bandage.
Settling onto the floor on his haunches, Osiris gently lifts Emmanuel's head and uses his shirt to wipe away some of the blood congealing in the priest's hair in an effort to find the wound.]
(( Oh...oh everything's spinning again. But he can breathe easier now. That's because Set let him go and he slumped onto the floor where he instinctively curled up in an effort to protect his head and his delicate soft parts.
He definitely hears Horus, he recognize his voice and that nearly violent energy rolling off him. The calm after he leaves feels vaguely familiar, too, but he hasn't spent as much time with Osiris as he has with Horus.
Uncurling slight, he blinks several times in a futile effort to focus his vision. The blood in his eyes isn't help with that. The priest sucks in a shuddering breath and coughs up more blood.
Well. That's not great. ))
There's nothing wrong with my ears...
(( If he doesn't count the high-pitched ringing in them. ))
My wallet... There's a number...
(( One perk of being with the Church, which is global, is that he can call on them for aid. It's not acknowledged publicly, but the exorcists often need medical care and a place to convalesce after their intense work. That number will get them a doctor without need to go to hospital and a safe place to recover. ))
[Noticing Emmanuel's attempts to clear his eyes of blood, Osiris gives up on his head wound for a moment to wipe his face with a clean bit of t-shirt. So much blood, even coming from his mouth... what satisfaction could Set possibly feel from brutalizing a fragile human body? Just how craven has he become?]
You're safe now. Try to relax, if you can. [Osiris doesn't want to set Emmanuel's head back down on the floor while he makes this phone call, but his shirt is still necessary to stanch the flow of blood from his head wound. Nothing else for it, then - at least his jacket is black, so it shouldn't stain. Once Emmanuel's head is pillowed on the bunched up jacket, Osiris carefully pulls his wallet from his pocket and finds the mentioned phone number.
He only checks Emmanuel's ID to get his full name, in case it's needed to identify him to whoever's on the other end, but his year of birth catches Osiris's eye and gives him a deep, guilty chill. Too young. This man is far too young to be fighting in the wars of gods. Osiris can't allow this to continue - once the priest has fully healed, he'll insist that he play no further role in the conflict.
For now, he takes out his phone and dials.]
Yes, hello... I'm here with Father Emmanuel Yoon, he's received injuries to his head and abdomen and is bleeding quite badly... he's awake and coherent, yes... I'll send you the location pin. We're in the bathroom... my name? Asa Koiak. No, I'm a civilian. ... I will. Thank you. Thank you so much.
[With that done, Osiris returns his attention to cleaning up Emmanuel's wound.] I've been given orders to make sure you don't lose consciousness, so please keep your eyes open if you can manage it. Someone is on their way.
(( The single most put upon syllable ever uttered.
Logically, Emmanuel knows he needs to stay awake. He's concussed, at the very least. But it's pretty hard to keep his eyes open when his eyelids feel like lead weights. He needs something to focus on, something to attach his mind to so he can distract from the eager hands of unconsciousness grabbing at him. ))
Um, shall we play a game of questions?
(( The words are slower than he would normally say them. But it's a fond old memory of a game he used to play with Elijah to pass time. Osiris may not know the rules. Once the initial question is asked, no statements are allowed. Every response must be a question. Not statements with a question tacked on the end to skirt the rule. Ah, maybe today's the day he'll get to see Eli again. It's not such a bad thought... ))
[In spite of himself and the circumstances, Osiris grins.]
Choosing a brain teaser feels a bit ambitious in this situation, but sure.
[Osiris has managed to find the source of all this blood and, to his relief, discovered that it's not a very serious cut at all. Whatever's got him coughing up blood will probably be the main concern, so for now all Osiris can really do is keep applying pressure where his shirt is held up to the wound.
If he finds his other hand inclined to play idly with Emmanuel's unbloodied hair, well, it's probably just an old memory of providing comfort to one of his compatriots.]
(( He has to keep his mind active if he wants to stay awake. That's all their is to it. Hopefully, Osiris won't hold it against him if he's not very good at the game he suggested at this moment in time.
He starts out simple. Do you know how to play? Do you see any teeth on the floor (because he's not sure if Set managed to knock any out or maybe just a little loose)? A few more simply back and forths before Emmanuel lifts a hand to point weakly at the visible scars on Osiris' body. He'd never ask such a thing if consciousness wasn't quickly slipping away. ))
What happened to you?
(( There's maybe a beat before the footsteps of a few other people clamor into the bathroom. Four others come in, two dressed all in black, the others apparently EMTs. They swoop in to start patching the priest up before carrying him out. A quiet invitation for Asa to come along if he chooses. No questions asked about his presence. Plenty posed about the state of their patient.
Should he choose to accompany them, he'll find they're transported to a small, private medical facility. It's much more comfortable than a standard hospital room. Within the hour, Emmanuel's resting comfortable and Asa's been informed that there are no severe injuries. Most of the blood was from the head wound and the coughing came from him aspirating blood from his nose and sinuses due to the head injury. No internal damage from the altercation. He'll be bruised and sore and need to rest.
Having heard some of that at some point, Emmanuel simply sighs quietly. ))
[One of the EMTs does take a moment to ask "Asa" if he's alright despite his scars obviously being so old. He just nods, still a bit shellshocked at having been asked such a prying question so casually by someone who otherwise seems like the soul of discretion. He also snatches up his jacket the moment Emmanuel's taken away and zips it right back up to the chin.
When they arrive, Osiris mostly stays out of the way until he's finally told that Emmanuel is stable and safe, at which point he slips into the room quietly to sit at the priest's bedside. He hears Emmanuel's whispered words from the doorway but says nothing about them for the time being, simply filing away the name "Eli".
After a minute or two of comfortable silence, he says:]
My brother killed and dismembered me.
[What a time to stray from his usual habit of over-explanation.]
(( "Asa" is also given a clean shirt. Just a plain t-shirt, but it's better than just having his bloodied jacket on.
Emmanuel blinks at what Osiris says. For a moment, it's like there's no activity going on behind his eyes. And then it clicks into place that he asked. Oh my god, he asked! Mortifying that he would pry like that.
So rather than brush it off, or pry for even more details, Emmanuel just closes his eyes. ))
[A steel door might as well slam down in front of Osiris's face for all the emotion he shows in the wake of that confession. "Closed" doesn't begin to describe his expression and posture.
He will not react from a place of personal trauma. He won't. No matter what Emmanuel did or didn't do, he doesn't deserve to be bludgeoned with Osiris's conflicted feelings about Set.]
(( Was there a choice? Of course there was. He could've told his brother no. He could've refused to try to free him from the demon that made a home of him. He wasn't an exorcist then, what did he know about demons?
"I'm so tired of fighting him, Manny. I know you know a way to get him out. Please, I'm so tired..."
Their last conversation forever burned into Emmanuel's memory. His brother begging for help. His brother thanking him for agreeing.
"Manny, I love you."
The last words his brother ever said. Yet it's his dying scream that Emmanuel hears every time he closes his eyes to sleep. It's the sound that jars him from sleep so frequently. That's the price of his failure. That's why he went on to become a proper exorcist.
Emmanuel's brows furrow and he squeezes his eyes shut against the wave of emotion the memories bring. They never seem to age, always as fresh as they were when he was fourteen and clutching his brother's lifeless body in his arms. His throat still hurts from all the screaming he did that night. ))
Elijah begged me to help him... He wasn't supposed to die...
[With no real idea if the gesture will be welcome, Osiris rests a bare hand lightly on Emmanuel's. Doesn't hold or squeeze it, just offers a moment of contact for comfort.
"Eli." There's his answer.]
Nothing anyone could say would ever be enough to heal that wound, but I can assure you of one thing: wherever your brother is now, however he feels about what happened, he wants to forgive you.
(( He jolts very slightly at the touch. With his eyes close and the fog of memory upon him, he didn't see it coming. But, he doesn't pull his hand away. He understands what Osiris is trying to do and he's not going to reject an offering of sympathetic kindness. Not from someone who knows what it's like to lose a brother, in a sense.
After a moment, Emmanuel sucks in one long, slow breath, and opens his eyes to look at the god. The priest looks a mess: an angry dark bruise blossomed on his face where Set shoved him into the wall, some related swelling. But his eyes are clearer now, focused once more. ))
There's a part of me that envies you. You still have a chance to get your brother back.
[Osiris nods, one corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile. He understands where that thought would come from, even if it's not entirely kind. Loss makes both people and gods selfish, after all.]
I don't... expect him to escape his madness. But unlike the rest of our family, I find myself unable to give up hope. [He lifts his hand off of Emmanuel's and turns it back and forth in front of his own face, his crooked smile turning bitter. The scars where his fingers meet his hand are larger than his knuckles.] Does that make me sentimental or stupid?
(( For the first time in their admittedly brief acquaintance, Emmanuel's features soften. The hard lines of attitude vanish and he looks much less world-worn. ))
I think that makes your heart not unlike a human's.
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no subject
Well, fuck them. He's still going to have his fun. The tree was a good kick-off to his terror campaign against the exorcist but it's time to up the ante, and Horus the numbskull has given him a perfect opportunity. Imagine being stupid enough to frequent the same restaurant multiple times with the person you're guarding when you look as distinctive as Horus? Couldn't be Seth.
I mean no one has tracked down his bar yet, definitely notHis plan is so intricate it's almost grueling. He has to hide his own distinctive looks without being too obviously in disguise when he slips into the restaurant. He has to keep an eye on the two men while tamping down his godly energy to avoid tipping off Horus. He has to intuit a few things about the exorcist from previous observation to decide when he should sneak away, and runs the real risk of coming face to face with Horus instead if he gets the timing wrong.
But in the end, it's all worth it. Seth only has to wait a few minutes for the exorcist to walk into the men's bathroom and find him sitting casually on the counter, one long leg crossed over the other and a sweet smile on his lips that does nothing to soften his ravenous stare.]
Hello, Exorcist.
no subject
What is startling is the intensity of the man's presence (and even then, Emmanuel suspects he's holding a lot back so as not to alert his companion outside; well, if this is who he thinks it may be). ))
I prefer Father, if you please.
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He hops off the counter and crowds right into Emmanuel's space, curious to see if he can back the man up against a wall with the sheer force of his presence - using physical force is easily enough done if not, but this would be so much more fun.]
I don't. I'll call you whatever I want, exorcist.
no subject
Then we're done here, demon.
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A hand that feels both too big and too strong to match up with the body to which it's attached closes around the back of Emmanuel's neck and yanks him back, then shoves him into the nearest wall with his cheek crushed to the cool tile. Seth uses the full length and weight of his body to pin Emmanuel in place, quite fairly assuming that leaving his arms free won't give him much of an advantage in this position.]
See, [He snarls, mouth a breath away from Emmanuel's ear,] you're still not taking this seriously, and I'm starting to get insulted. Are you really too stupid to understand what you're up against at this point?
no subject
In the dizzy split second after, he finds himself thinking abut how filthy that tile he can see far too closely is. Of course he struggles against the press of Set behind him. It's instinct, but the god's strength is far too much for even a well trained hunter to match. Once you're caught, you're caught. Eyes narrowed, Emmanuel tries to crane himself enough to at least glimpse at Set when he speaks to him. ))
And what would your suggestion be? Walk away? Let it happen?
no subject
[Not to mention that an exorcist on his tail would not do good things for his alliance with Lucifer!! But Set's hoping to be rid of Emmanuel before he figures out that part, which might go a long way to explain the excessive violence and drama of his responses. This is nothing less than a terror campaign to try and chase the exorcist out of town.]
You have two options: walk away, or die. I hope I don't have to convince you how capable I am of making the second happen by now.
cw for some vague suicidal ideation-adjacent thinking
Despite being smashed against a filthy bathroom wall, something perhaps a little unhinged flickers in those dark eyes and one corner of his mouth curls up. A smile? A sneer? ))
Everything dies. You haven't done your homework if you think an exorcist is the only thing I am.
(( Hunters like big game. ))
no subject
He backs up just enough to grab Emmanuel by the arm and spin him around, then locks his other hand right back around Emmanuel's neck to hold him in place and punches him solidly in the gut.]
So be it. You get the third option - spend the rest of your life in a constant waking nightmare that makes you wish I'd shown you the mercy of killing you.
feel free to have Horus bust in before Emmanuel gets himself hospitalized or worse
If not for Set holding him by the throat,t he blow would've doubled him over. He tastes blood in his mouth, unsure if it's from his initial meeting with the wall or of it's coming up from inside thanks that punch. One option is far worse than the other and he doesn't really have the time to analyze it properly.
What a threat. This guy... Emmanuel can't help rasping out a bitter laugh. A walking nightmare? Please! That's all his life's been for the last thirteen years. Thirteen years of grief, of a loss that can never heal, of screaming at his own god until his throat's raw against the cruelty of having been born with another and now being alone. Thirteen years of being a ghost, a walking corpse whose heart and soul were long gone. Thirteen years haunted by his brother's face in the mirror. The truest hell is the one he faces every day.
Oh? Is he still laughing? ))
You really don't know anything about me.
(( And Set has the gall to be pissed at Emmanuel's ignorance. Ironic. ))
1/2
[Just as Set's hand tightens around Emmanuel's throat enough to block his windpipe, the bathroom door slams open and Horus stands in the doorway with rage rolling off him like heat waves. As suddenly as he was first grabbed and pinned, Set lets Emmanuel drop to the ground with a loudly muttered curse.
And thanks to the steady increase of followers joining Set at his cult compound, he's more than powerful enough to shoulder-check Horus out of the doorway and slip past him.]
Damnit... [Horus glances Set's retreating form to Emmanuel and back. Emmanuel's badly hurt, there's blood everywhere, but the slippery bastard has finally shown his face! What should he do...?]
2/2
... oh no. No.]
Go after him, [Osiris tells his son in a calm but firm tone that brooks no argument.] I'll take care of the priest. Go.
[He casts his gaze around the room once Horus is gone. Perfect - hand dryers instead of paper towels, and no time to check for toilet paper in the handful of stalls a few steps away. With the amount of blood staining the wall and Emmanuel's face and head, Osiris really has no choice but to unzip and shrug off his high-collared jacket, then pull off the t-shirt underneath to use as a makeshift bandage.
Settling onto the floor on his haunches, Osiris gently lifts Emmanuel's head and uses his shirt to wipe away some of the blood congealing in the priest's hair in an effort to find the wound.]
Emmanuel...? Can you hear me?
no subject
He definitely hears Horus, he recognize his voice and that nearly violent energy rolling off him. The calm after he leaves feels vaguely familiar, too, but he hasn't spent as much time with Osiris as he has with Horus.
Uncurling slight, he blinks several times in a futile effort to focus his vision. The blood in his eyes isn't help with that. The priest sucks in a shuddering breath and coughs up more blood.
Well. That's not great. ))
There's nothing wrong with my ears...
(( If he doesn't count the high-pitched ringing in them. ))
My wallet... There's a number...
(( One perk of being with the Church, which is global, is that he can call on them for aid. It's not acknowledged publicly, but the exorcists often need medical care and a place to convalesce after their intense work. That number will get them a doctor without need to go to hospital and a safe place to recover. ))
no subject
You're safe now. Try to relax, if you can. [Osiris doesn't want to set Emmanuel's head back down on the floor while he makes this phone call, but his shirt is still necessary to stanch the flow of blood from his head wound. Nothing else for it, then - at least his jacket is black, so it shouldn't stain. Once Emmanuel's head is pillowed on the bunched up jacket, Osiris carefully pulls his wallet from his pocket and finds the mentioned phone number.
He only checks Emmanuel's ID to get his full name, in case it's needed to identify him to whoever's on the other end, but his year of birth catches Osiris's eye and gives him a deep, guilty chill. Too young. This man is far too young to be fighting in the wars of gods. Osiris can't allow this to continue - once the priest has fully healed, he'll insist that he play no further role in the conflict.
For now, he takes out his phone and dials.]
Yes, hello... I'm here with Father Emmanuel Yoon, he's received injuries to his head and abdomen and is bleeding quite badly... he's awake and coherent, yes... I'll send you the location pin. We're in the bathroom... my name? Asa Koiak. No, I'm a civilian. ... I will. Thank you. Thank you so much.
[With that done, Osiris returns his attention to cleaning up Emmanuel's wound.] I've been given orders to make sure you don't lose consciousness, so please keep your eyes open if you can manage it. Someone is on their way.
no subject
(( The single most put upon syllable ever uttered.
Logically, Emmanuel knows he needs to stay awake. He's concussed, at the very least. But it's pretty hard to keep his eyes open when his eyelids feel like lead weights. He needs something to focus on, something to attach his mind to so he can distract from the eager hands of unconsciousness grabbing at him. ))
Um, shall we play a game of questions?
(( The words are slower than he would normally say them. But it's a fond old memory of a game he used to play with Elijah to pass time. Osiris may not know the rules. Once the initial question is asked, no statements are allowed. Every response must be a question. Not statements with a question tacked on the end to skirt the rule. Ah, maybe today's the day he'll get to see Eli again. It's not such a bad thought... ))
no subject
Choosing a brain teaser feels a bit ambitious in this situation, but sure.
[Osiris has managed to find the source of all this blood and, to his relief, discovered that it's not a very serious cut at all. Whatever's got him coughing up blood will probably be the main concern, so for now all Osiris can really do is keep applying pressure where his shirt is held up to the wound.
If he finds his other hand inclined to play idly with Emmanuel's unbloodied hair, well, it's probably just an old memory of providing comfort to one of his compatriots.]
Do you mind starting us off?
no subject
He starts out simple. Do you know how to play? Do you see any teeth on the floor (because he's not sure if Set managed to knock any out or maybe just a little loose)? A few more simply back and forths before Emmanuel lifts a hand to point weakly at the visible scars on Osiris' body. He'd never ask such a thing if consciousness wasn't quickly slipping away. ))
What happened to you?
(( There's maybe a beat before the footsteps of a few other people clamor into the bathroom. Four others come in, two dressed all in black, the others apparently EMTs. They swoop in to start patching the priest up before carrying him out. A quiet invitation for Asa to come along if he chooses. No questions asked about his presence. Plenty posed about the state of their patient.
Should he choose to accompany them, he'll find they're transported to a small, private medical facility. It's much more comfortable than a standard hospital room. Within the hour, Emmanuel's resting comfortable and Asa's been informed that there are no severe injuries. Most of the blood was from the head wound and the coughing came from him aspirating blood from his nose and sinuses due to the head injury. No internal damage from the altercation. He'll be bruised and sore and need to rest.
Having heard some of that at some point, Emmanuel simply sighs quietly. ))
Another day, Eli.
no subject
When they arrive, Osiris mostly stays out of the way until he's finally told that Emmanuel is stable and safe, at which point he slips into the room quietly to sit at the priest's bedside. He hears Emmanuel's whispered words from the doorway but says nothing about them for the time being, simply filing away the name "Eli".
After a minute or two of comfortable silence, he says:]
My brother killed and dismembered me.
[What a time to stray from his usual habit of over-explanation.]
no subject
Emmanuel blinks at what Osiris says. For a moment, it's like there's no activity going on behind his eyes. And then it clicks into place that he asked. Oh my god, he asked! Mortifying that he would pry like that.
So rather than brush it off, or pry for even more details, Emmanuel just closes his eyes. ))
I killed my brother, too.
no subject
He will not react from a place of personal trauma. He won't. No matter what Emmanuel did or didn't do, he doesn't deserve to be bludgeoned with Osiris's conflicted feelings about Set.]
Was there another choice?
[In other words, did he have to or choose to?]
no subject
"I'm so tired of fighting him, Manny. I know you know a way to get him out. Please, I'm so tired..."
Their last conversation forever burned into Emmanuel's memory. His brother begging for help. His brother thanking him for agreeing.
"Manny, I love you."
The last words his brother ever said. Yet it's his dying scream that Emmanuel hears every time he closes his eyes to sleep. It's the sound that jars him from sleep so frequently. That's the price of his failure. That's why he went on to become a proper exorcist.
Emmanuel's brows furrow and he squeezes his eyes shut against the wave of emotion the memories bring. They never seem to age, always as fresh as they were when he was fourteen and clutching his brother's lifeless body in his arms. His throat still hurts from all the screaming he did that night. ))
Elijah begged me to help him... He wasn't supposed to die...
no subject
"Eli." There's his answer.]
Nothing anyone could say would ever be enough to heal that wound, but I can assure you of one thing: wherever your brother is now, however he feels about what happened, he wants to forgive you.
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After a moment, Emmanuel sucks in one long, slow breath, and opens his eyes to look at the god. The priest looks a mess: an angry dark bruise blossomed on his face where Set shoved him into the wall, some related swelling. But his eyes are clearer now, focused once more. ))
There's a part of me that envies you. You still have a chance to get your brother back.
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I don't... expect him to escape his madness. But unlike the rest of our family, I find myself unable to give up hope. [He lifts his hand off of Emmanuel's and turns it back and forth in front of his own face, his crooked smile turning bitter. The scars where his fingers meet his hand are larger than his knuckles.] Does that make me sentimental or stupid?
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I think that makes your heart not unlike a human's.
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1/2
2/2
cw: imaginary incest
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We can wrap this one up or go on to morning if you like.
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