And the Major Lift

"You gonna tell me what's on your mind?"

Not bothering to look up, Bottleshock continues swirling the sphere of ice around in his glass with a finger, watching it splash the drink across the sides, but not so high as to spill. There's a tiny indent at the top of the ice left by his sharp glassy fingertip, giving him grip enough to keep playing with it. "Nothing's on my mind. Just had a long day."

Barman leans against the counter, wiping away at an invisible spot with his sanitizer towel, and the most I'm calling bullshit expression on his face. "I'm calling bullshit."

"Call it whatever you like," Shocks mutters, "But it's nothing." He gulps down the last of his drink, ice and all, which he rolls around on his tongue for a minute before spitting back into the glass with a loud clink. Using one hand, he flicks the glass back over towards Barman, the sound of glass hitting glass a curious noise. "Another."

Exhaling loudly through his nose, ruffling his mustache, Barman reluctantly accepts the glass, tossing the spit-covered orb of ice into the drain. He'll get Shocks another. He busies himself dumping the drink components into the metal shaker, hardly even needing to watch his measurements anymore; it's all muscle memory at this point. He keeps an eye on the impim as he shakes the drink up, already cursing himself for not cutting him off. After a fresh ice orb is dropped into a clean glass, Barman dumps the drink from the shaker over it, and slides it across the counter. Shocks pulls it towards him with one hand, not even looking in the direction that it came from and also without even initially touching it. Glass magic. What a thing.

And so he simply bides his time, watching as Bottleshock downs the drink in just a couple large gulps, and feeling relieved when he doesn't ask for another one. Shocks just amuses himself with the ice, holding it on his peppermint tongue for as long as he can before letting it fall back into the glass. Disgusting. Bad manners. 

The bar is quiet. Not just because it's past closing time, but also because it's just weird whenever Bottleshock isn't running his mouth about something. He always has things to say, even if it's just talking out of his ass, but seeing him so quiet has Barman concerned. He probably shouldn't have continued serving him, but can't change that now. Waiter's already gone home, but Barman doesn't feel the urge to leave just yet. If Shocks wants to stay here all night, he'll stay with him. Not because he doesn't trust Shocks alone with his bar, but with the way things are going, he's not sure if he trusts Shocks alone by himself.

And Shocks? Currently both loving and hating the fact that Barman is still here. On one hand, it's nice to not be alone with his thoughts, but on the other hand, the last thing he wants is having to have those thoughts make their way out of his head sludge and become something that Barman could hear. Literally getting hit by a car would be a better alternative. But despite his inner protests, he can't stop his drunken tongue from controlling his mouth.

"Are we friends?"

The question is unexpected, the content even more so. Red sclera dim as Barman's eyes narrow slightly, feeling like this is going in a direction that he doesn't particularly like. "I consider you a close friend." A pause. "Why?"

Glass hands clink against the marble counter top as Bottleshock folds them underneath his chin, resting it on top of them. "Do you even know who I am?"

His words are as plain and simple as they come, but the question carries a plethora of its own questions that dangle from it. Barman's mouth opens, but no sounds come out. It closes. It's a loaded question, and it's handed to him like a game of Russian Roulette. How does he even answer that? Is there even a right answer? Does Shocks even want him to answer? He swallows quietly, taking another moment to breathe before finally giving his short, simple response. "I know what you've let me know."

A grin slowly cracks across Bottleshock's face, but it's far from a pleasant one. His gold sabers glint dully in the dimmed lights from above the bar, and his body shudders as he forces out some kind of chuckle. His eyes, darkened by the shadow of his hood, stare straight ahead, but don't seem to be looking at anything in particular. "If only you knew what I haven't let you know."

At this point, Barman stops leaning against the counter, drawing himself up to his full height. He quietly walks around the bar, coming to the other side where Shocks is, and simply sits in the chair next to him. "If you want to talk, I'm here to listen." He's not actually sure if Shocks is even capable of letting out personal details; even after all this time, he does have to admit that.. there's a lot about that impim that he simply just does not know. He knows the surface, sure. But anything past that? He might as well be blind. It's just.. something that hasn't really ever come up in conversation before. It's possible to be good friends with someone while you both hold each other at arm's length, and it seems that they're both the perpetrator and the victim of such.

The bar is quiet once again, the only sound being the gentle noise of Shocks' glass toes idly clinking against each other. He sighs. And then he speaks.

"You know I have weird magic, right? Well. Most of it was found through forced trial and error. Once we got it pieced together, once they figured out that I could manipulate both glass and liquids, that's when it all went downhill." He continues staring straight ahead, grateful that Barman is just listening. Letting him speak. Bottleshock's lips purse together a few times before continuing on, giving off a clear signal that whatever he's trying to say is not easy for him. "Yeah, they pretty much just.. decided that since my egg had been changing hands for money, I was nothing but property, and that meant doing what they wanted me to do. Whatever they told me, I had to do it. The consequences of refusal were harsh, and I was just a kid. I did what they told me to do.. including having to join up with a team of oni hunters."

He notices Barman stiffen in his seat, though not much else of a reaction from him. Still, just that flinch that he saw from the corner of his eye might as well have been Barman backhanding him across the face. He probably deserves it anyway.

Lips loosened by the alcohol he'd consumed, Bottleshock continues on, not feeling as restricted as he did before all of this began. "Well.. yeah. I did that. I had no choice. They got the idea to fill my limbs with this kind of.. enchanted water of sorts. There was some magic-wielding impim in the guild who could enchant water or potions or whatever else, but making it so that whoever drank it or whatever would be resistant to oni magic. And they just filled my hands and tail with that. If I sloshed it around enough, it would release the enchantment from it, basically making some kind of area-of-effect shield. Lucky me, I was always getting tossed up in the front. I was both the magic shield and the meat shield." He scoffs dryly at that, though Barman can see one of Shocks' hands leave from underneath his chin, coming to gently press against his chest, as if touching an old wound there. "Of course they didn't think nothin' of it since I can regenerate my liquids and my own body's healing process, so.. it was a lot of me getting shredded and left for dead. But hey, as long as they got to take down the onis with as little trouble as possible, I guess it was worth it."

Barman simply sits and listens, appearing calm and collected on the outside, but inside? A different story. He's never felt his gut churn so hard before; it just feels like magma that just won't cool, and he doesn't like it. Barman doesn't really consider himself a tried and true oni; he just happened to be stuck in a flesh prison and this one is what he ended up with. Shocks having killed onis doesn't bother Barman much; truth be told, their first encounter was enough to strongly hint at the fact that he had. There was just something about the little gremlin right off the bat that gave off the vibe, and he suspects it's in the liquid that's still trapped within his glass appendages. None of that bothers him, but what does bother him is the mistreatment of Shocks himself. Did these impims care so little for the most essential member of their team that they did nothing to protect him? Doing the complete opposite of that, even? His eyes flick over to the impim's slouched body, now really taking note of just how flawless it is. No scarring, no disfiguration. His regenerative abilities must be something to write home about; he can see why it would have been used. And it makes his blood boil.

"I had my limits, not that anyone ever cared," Bottleshock mutters a moment later, fingers curling against the red patches on his chest, "It got to the point where they'd haul me around even if I was unconscious. It never stopped. They never stopped. They never fucking stopped." His hand goes from his chest to his face, liquid-filled glass fingers splaying across his eyes as he puts his head back down, resting his chin on top of his other hand once again. "My magic was just.. more valuable than me, I guess." His hand moves up, gently smoothing over his hood, almost like he's petting himself. Maybe calming himself down. "I dunno, I just.. left. I left after awhile. Snuck out. Wandered around Imia like a vagabond for awhile before I wound up on my side of town. Just put my street smarts to good use; I didn't want to use my magic anymore. And things were fine. No one came after me, everything was going along perfectly. But then.. but then you came along." He turns in his chair to face Barman as he speaks the last sentence, jabbing a finger in Barman's direction, who stares at it with a wary expression.

"You came along and you threatened to ruin everything!!" Shocks continues, still pointing at Barman's chest, "I thought I had my second chance at life all made up and then you just happened to come along and.. and you just being near me was a fucking nightmare! You were just my past incarnate coming back to haunt me, and if it weren't for the enchanted garbage still in my limbs, maybe I would have fallen prey to your shit like everyone else. My past, coming for my fucking throat, being the only thing to save my ass. So of course I wanted you out, but god knows I couldn't lift a finger against you because what if someone found out. I'd be ruined. So I just had to bother you in every fucking way I could think of. I was so fucking terrified; not of you, but of the danger you posed. The risk to me, and to my entire life. I wanted you out!! I wanted you gone!!" At that last word, Barman notices that from underneath the shadow of Shocks' hood, there are now tears streaking down his face.

Dragging a hand across his face, Bottleshock manages to smear his tears everywhere without really helping them. "But you.. you just.. you stuck around. You were nice to me, and I didn't understand why. I hated you so fucking much but you never once had it in you to do anything. I know that I wasn't threatening because I was trying not to be, but.." At this point, Shocks covers his face with both hands, freely crying. Something he's never done in front of anyone before. "You just.. you were always there. Everyone I've ever known has stabbed me in the back, passed me onto someone else, left me for dead, or used me in some way. But not you. You were.. you were a friend, and.." His words are interrupted by a few hiccups, but he's determined to finish speaking. "I've been so scared to lose everything I have if you knew who I was. What my magic is. What I've done. I don't know what I'd do.."

As Shocks had been speaking, Barman felt his emotions change from angry, to confused, to upset, and then melting into nothing but genuine love for the impim. Not in the romantic sense, hardly, but.. he's been Shocks' friend for quite some time now; knowing what he does now about him just makes everything make so much more sense. Everything is falling into place. Perhaps it was some kind of destiny.

He reaches over the counter, grabbing a clean bar towel and then tosses it into Bottleshock's lap. "It's fine, Shocks. And I mean that." He watches as the impim listlessly picks up the towel, staring at it before just smushing it against his face. Barman takes it as a sign to continue speaking. "It's fine. I'm.. I'm sorry that you've gone through what you have. None of it sounds easy. But.. what you've done in your past doesn't bother me. I wouldn't care even if you personally killed a hundred onis for fun.. it just isn't like.. a dealbreaker for me." He folds his hands in his lap, trying to not fidget as he speaks. "Look.. I'll admit that my life here had been fairly shitty until I moved over in this area. I didn't think there would be anything on the entire planet that could make my existence less shit than it was. But you were there. You were just like a wildcard in my deck of twos, and I genuinely loved you being around. Us being friends is just a bonus." He smiles, which is rather crooked, but is as warm and genuine as it can be. "I'm glad you told me; I can't imagine what carrying around all of that must have been like. But now you don't have to worry. You've told me, and I'm not judging you for any of it. Promise."

Rubbing his face furiously with the towel, Shocks sniffles loudly, red-rimmed golden irises peeking over the damp fabric, as if sneaking a glance at the oni. "Yeah?" A pause. "Well.. thanks. It means a lot."

"Coming from you, that's high praise."

"You'd know."