Emery & Takeshi || Your Enemy Is My Enemy
emeryfrost:
“Fucking Jeremiah,”
Emery allowed himself to grin in an exasperated way, his head shaking and his hand going to the mess of black atop his head. Of course. Of course! And just like that everything began to make sense, at least the specific parts of Jeremiah’s warnings and the need for Babanel’s blood. For a phantom, Jeremiah was more pirate than he realized, so making a deal with one did not seem entirely out of character. Emery stared off into the sea, his eyes watching the skies as if expecting for the phantom to be hovering nearby, listening, watching.
“It’s been months since he last made an appearance…since before Rose was set free. Last I saw of him he took Babanel’s blood during the raids in Night Haven…said something about me not listening to him, that I was being careless. I never know what the fuck he is talking about. Jeremiah has his own agenda, his own plan. Whatever idea he had about this whole thing is probably the product of something a hell of a lot bigger than we realize, trust me,”
After Rose escaped from purgatory, Emery assumed that Jeremiah would continue to terrorize him; leave him notes, hide in the shadows…but none of that had occurred. For a while, Emery thought that Babanel’s blood was just that important to him, that whatever he needed it for would overcome the need to interfere with Emery’s new life. It was the only explanation he had for Jeremiah’s absence. Of course, he wasn’t complaining about the phantom being vacant. But it did leave a distasteful energy in the pit of his stomach; the not knowing was almost just as worse.
Thinking about his enemy left Emery fidgeting with his fingernails, his foot beginning to tap in nervousness. “No one understands him…he is the most powerful being I’ve ever seen. And not just in strength, you know? He plays these mind games, manipulates people, fucks with your dreams and haunts you until you think you’re going crazy. He takes everything you love, everything you care about, and puts it in jeopardy, to the point where you don’t have a choice but to submit. The fear he can elicit is just…overbearing,” Emery sighed, embarrassed and ashamed to be admitting such weak emotions, but knowing that Takeshi was the right person to understand. “I’ve never been able to stand up to him,”
So the demon had a name. Takeshi had never wanted to hunt such a creature in all his life. The fact he could only step foot on the very edge of the plank positioned precariously over the ocean was sign enough that Tak hated phantoms with a passion. Takeshi took a deep drink at the continued talk, a defined wrinkle of concern etching across his usual pleased face.
“Aye ye honestly believe he be doin’ that to everyone and anyone? or just ye?” it was a dark question, Tak wondered on motive above all else. He picked at an emerald in the flask, running a dirtied, partially cracked nail along the edge of it. The pirate didn’t appreciate being apart of something beyond his understanding. If players were using him for their own gain, they would be in for a horrific surprise. Takeshi couldn’t be tamed, just as the entire ocean couldn’t bend to his will. Maybe in time it could. But though the thought was suddenly distracting to the pirate, he turned to Emery to keep focused.
“Listen-- thar be more,” he sighed, taking another generous sip of his rum until it’s honeyed scent waft to mesh with the ocean. There actually was a lot more Tak knew, and it furthered proved he had been a pawn in all this. Not putting together the pieces of his importance. Maybe if they still thought the pirate unaware of his place they would instill a trust in him enough he could get the upper hand.
“I knew Emerald,” he said sadly, pursing his lips into a tight line in the only visual indication that he still mourned her death. “Jeremiah gave me te blood as payment. Ye see, I was goin’ te find her maker for her. Use a locatin’ spell that be from te Book o’ Shadows that requires te blood o’ te person. She thought her maker be with tis Babanel.” He tugged on the wire around his neck, the vile resting among the tangled mess of various jewels and riches. Hiding in plain sight. Still not willing to part with it.
“She be dead now-- so,” he paused again, staring out at his ship. The itch to get off land fierce in his veins. “Tis Jeremiah knew I needed te blood for her ye think? Does ye maker know aye I have it?”
