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 Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2018 9:20 pm
The infirmary hadn’t been the place he thought he’d be reunited with his Commanding Officer, but there Heliodor was walking into the room that was assigned to Captain Faustite. It has been over two weeks since he’d last laid eyes on the half-youma. Two weeks since General Schorl took over his own training in lieu of Faustite’s disappearance. It had been a long two weeks. Terribly long, for the corrupt. The intent was to enter that room and find out where the man had gone for so long and why.
What he hadn’t expected was to walk into the infirmary to find Faustite looking anything but his well put together, strong self. Instead, Heliodor was faced with an obviously malnourished Captain. Nutrients dripped from an IV bag and trailed itself to the needles embedded in the half-youma’s hand. What had once been a boney, bird-like structure was terribly over emphasised to the point where the young-man looked gaunt and skeletal. Faustite looked as if one wrong sneeze would break something.
“I am pretty sure you look worse than I did in the hospital, Captain.” He remarked carefully to break some of the tension he was feeling as he moved around the bed to the chair that sat against the wall. Without pause, he grabbed the piece of furniture and dragged it closer to the bedside. With care not to sit on long locks, which he had found could be terribly painful when he moved without care, he sat upon the edge of the seat, eyes focused on the man in the bed.
Licking lips, Helio forced himself to not pounce on the man. The last thing either of them needed was a hailstorm of questions, but the corrupt was also hyper aware that he held the upper hand in this situation. With the state Faustite was in, it was unlikely the Captain would have energy to do much else besides listen to him.
“You walked out.” The words were blunt and calm. A point to be stated. “You walked out and disappeared for two weeks. Nowhere to be found. You left me with that ter…” He paused momentarily, catching himself mid words. “With General Schorl. She is a much...different person than you.
“What happened? Where did you go?” An interest, concern and under laying frustration spilled out in those six words.
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2018 10:16 pm
The bag of bones that was Captian Faustite laid on its side, in a proper heap, with a lace of tubes going once to his hand and once again beneath a thin blanket and once a third time along the middle of his face. He laid with eyes closed to the world, though not altogether asleep — he listened for news from the ever talkative infirmary nurses from their favorite hallway. For the past few hours, however, his comforts of company arose from a heart monitor beeping somewhere behind him. Even now, he hadn't spared the energy to place its location more precisely.
He could not overstate to himself the sense of safety from these walls and voices. From knowing the only entrance in the room lay before him. From feeling a bed beneath him and fluid running through his veins and meals on a predictable, tenable schedule. From his wandering conscience being contained by doors and vigilance. Here, he laid safely within the confines of human insistence.
The door opened and he heard feet in a cadence that he did not immediately recognize. No rattan cane beat the ground with announced presence. No shuffle of feet. A simple soldier's walk, trained and heavy-footed, speaking more of weight than of individuality. It was only when speech reached him that he identified the voice, and he found no energy nor want within himself to respond to Heliodor's baits with any real bite. Faustite grunted weakly his confirmation that he heard the jest at all; even opening his eyes demanded much that he was unwilling to give. Who would doubt that? You looked unkempt. Bitter and saddened and hateful that your attempt went awry. I must look like a corpse. I feel like one.
Faustite opened bleary eyes at last to the creak of a too-old chair, and found his subordinate's unease writ heavy on his face. The creature captain's wry smile only came with Heliodor's redacted choice of words.
"I got lost in the Rift," he answered simply, and his lids drifted shut again. "You know why by now." Your derisive tone suggests enough of it.
"Tell me about training with Schörl."
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2018 11:16 pm
“You’re trying to deflect, Captain.” Heliodor responded immediately to Faustite’s statement about Schorl. “And I have no doubts you know what General Schorl’s training is like, but to answer your question, it is... utterly exhausting.” Probably the kindest way I could state about that woman’s training methods.
Heliodor was here for a reason though. Well, three reasons really. To make sure Faustite was actually still alive, why the man just fled from the world, and what he intended to achieved out of his abandonment of his subordinate. “So you ran away that day to throw yourself into the rift?” Brows rose as arms folded, one over the other, against his chest. The bell sleeves of his black fuku draped over his lap. It was hard not to make assumptions with such a short response from the black-eyed being laying piteously in front of him. “You ran into the rift for what reason? To die? Because that’s the only reason I could imagine anyone doing that for the length of time you were gone.
“And after you sat where I sit now and lectured me about my own attempt, you go ahead and just...throw yourself to the youma for what reason? Because I was an idiot? Because seeing me get canned was too much for you?” A derisive laugh. “I find that hard to believe. So why? Why run off to end yourself only weeks after you gave me hell for it? What makes you all that much better?” Helio didn’t move from his position as he stared Faustite down both feet planted solidly on the floor in front of him. Feet that were on the mend and much less painful but still not fully healed from the caning they received.
“Is it my turn to sit here and admonish you? Because I will. You were the one who opened my eyes up to the idiocy of my choice back then.”
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Posted: Tue Mar 13, 2018 12:24 am
"It wasn't a question." The captain never missed Heliodor's propensity to reform his language into something else entirely. And Schörl likely tired of its entertainments. He wondered if her caning hand formed calluses by now.
"I needed a few hours to myself." He drew a long breath, pressing his ribs into the too-loose hollow of his uniform. It wore with its ostentatiousness all the dirt and filth and tragedies incurred in his time there. And when he sighed, that uniform collapsed back into itself, and all the extra fabric dwarfed the emaciated teen. "I needed a space where she couldn't call me back. I knew it was dangerous. But…" Faustite cracked a second sinner's smile. "'It wouldn't happen to me'." Who expects a youma ambush when they're a half-step away from joining their rank? Would you, Heliodor? Have you read enough to know the Rift at all? Or does saying the name with pretentious derision bring you comfort? I see she hasn't refuted your arrogance.
She hoped I'd have one just like me. How easily we find our ironies.
"I know how to kill myself — passively, actively. I don't need someone else to end me. This wasn't suicide." Heliodor stayed past the point of simple well-wishes and flower deposits, past the point where Lauri, Yuuri, Tibs and Reven each wanted to show their support. He stayed with the intention to parallel, to mock, to push the taste of failure back into his nose or otherwise to return a tepid favor. But Heliodor did not act out of selflessness; Faustite could rely on this certainty and work with it perfectly. Heliodor had his wants caught up in this conversation. So Faustite rose, all bone bound in thin strips of cartilage, and braced his too-thin arms against the bedding to stay upright. Heliodor would have his conversation.
Faustite would exploit his wants. "I know how it seems. Something ambushed me while I walked and I woke up later in a place I couldn't recognize. The Rift is vast, so I wandered. Looked for familiar signs. Did everything in my power to survive." Salt still coats my mouth.
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Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2018 8:53 pm
“A few hours to yourself? Well I hope you managed to do whatever it was you needed to get done in the weeks you were in there for.” Sighing he shook his head. “Really, I shouldn’t be surprised that you thought nothing would happen to you. I mean, I know you’re a half-youma and all but…” He stopped himself mid rant. After all, that’s all it was,a rant. Something that wasn’t going to achieve anything except flush out his aggravation and likely make Faustite upset with him.
A wince crossed his face at Faustite’s circumvented insult. It’s not like I planned my attempt. Perhaps running into the rift was your subconscious attempt at escape beyond the temporary? Not like you’d ever admit that though even if I was right. “So what was so important that you needed to get away for? Nd, if you can’t or won’t tell me that, I hope you at least accomplished what you wanted during this little adventure through the rift.” Heliodor sat forward in his chair as Faustite propped himself up. Arms that looked like they lacked the strength to hold the boy up pushed into the bed below him and the corrupt worries that the appendage may give at any moment. He was poised to help if needed.
“Something ambushed you?” Brows knit together. “A youma I assume, but...if you weren’t terribly far into the rift at that point something shouldn’t have had the want to attack you. Assuming I am remembering stuff right.” Heliodor had cracked down on his readings; not that Schorl would let him slack off if he even tried. “Unless you were far into the rift already?” What could be contrived as concern laced the young man’s voice as he fixed his gaze on the bed-ridden Captain.
“How did you end up finding your way out? Forgive me, but I have severe doubts that you just stumbled back upon the exit after wandering the rift for days on end. Let alone had the energy and stamina to leave. Two weeks is a long time to go without food and water.” Which he apparently had done considering the physical state he was in.
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Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2018 9:27 pm
"Stop talking down to me, Heliodor. You're not impressing anyone — not even yourself." His mulish diminishing of others' woes was curious for how much he demanded that they recognize his own. Hypocrites they all were, but Heliodor was a special sort — one who must take great joy in paining others. A true disciple of de Sade.
His expression sobered with consideration to Heliodor's ask; he knew it would do him well to test himself, to force boundaries until he tasted the lengths of his pain. Until he folded them into himself. "A lot happened that I chose not to tell you. We're comrades, not friends." Faustite paused, trusting his spine enough to rub at his eye. "But since you want the list…
"Before you were corrupted, I was meeting with my family again. I stopped seeing them after I became inexorably tied to the Negaverse. But I wanted to push them away. It would be easier to do my job if they weren't close bonds. If they weren't targets." He licked his lips tentatively. "But my family always troubled with one another. A divorce was inevitable. My brother liked to go his own angry way, uncaring of who he hurt or how. All these things festered in their own socialite stew. These on top of outside problems and expectations. My father sought a divorce and my mother answered by killing herself." He drew a sharp breath after his statement. "I know I instigated in part.
"Then there was you. Corrupted four days later. Made to be my first subordinate. You made a consistent habit of failing to meet minimum expectations and I know Schörl will finish my youmafication if you never mature as an officer. If I fail to show you how to act.
"Your corruption had its own messy consequences, too. Begotten out of rumormongering and deceit. Someone still lives that mangled your life into what it is now and forced my hand in erasing mine. My human side — it used to have a name. But the vapid miscreant that caused your corruption laid a trap for me and took the rest of my family. Former family. They wouldn't have recognized me now." Weariness had yet to touch his frame, despite the heaviness of their conversation.
"There's always more." A roll of his head and he shrugged his shoulders. Eyes closed in vague recollection. "Battles lost. Theses that went nowhere. Spending months without friends. Finding friends and not knowing why. Dealing with Schörl at her finest. Watching you get caned was the last I could take without a break.
"And if you read on the Rift then you know the Story of me doesn't matter out there. Youma don't care about our histories. That space is devoid of all this self-centered introspection. I wanted that escape.
"But even if around the Citadel is safest, it still isn't safe. Not all youma choose to obey a captain, even by the doors." He rolled his eyes against his lids before opening them, before swallowing and settling his bored gaze on Heliodor. "A general found me. With his youma, no less. He carried me here."
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Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2018 10:29 pm
Heliodor took the scolding with thinned lips and flared nostrils, but no argument came. Faustite wasn’t wrong. A nasty habit of the corrupt was his talking down of others. Something that occurred more often than not in his ‘past life’ with those who, for some reason or another, instigated the more cruel side of him. The side that, quite literally, was there to try and make Heliodor, then Rowan, feel more powerful or superior. Whether this fault arose out of sheer lack of consideration for others or his own insecurity was up for debate.
Swallowing hard, the corrupt, instead of voicing his complaints or angers, kept his mouth shut as he listened to what his Captain had to say. At first, it was hard to not jump in and make comment, but as the story continued on and the mounting blocks of problems and hurts built up it became clearer why his commanding officer had finally reached the point that he did. A way to escape the woes of his life around him, even temporary, wasn’t something that Heliodor could fault Faustite for. Anyone who went through all of that would need time to their own. Something to help them clear their mind.
With eyes shut, body frail in appearance, Faustite looked very much like the teen he was. A teen who was weary in many different ways. At the same time though, there was a strength. Unlike Heliodor himself, Faustite had attempted to deal with all of his pains in a much more productive way, or if not productive, then at least more adult. A need to separate himself from all the woes life threw at him so he could straighten himself out.
A dry laugh and a shake of his head preceded Heliodor’s next statement. “You amaze me.
“You take so much in stride. Let nothing ruffle your feathers when so much is at stake. When so much is…going wrong. You just kept trucking on and deal with it all to the best of your ability. I…” Hands intertwined in his lap as golden gaze dropped to the intertwining digits. Clearing his throat he opted instead to not finish his sentence. “Well, even if we are just comrades, I am glad that lady luck was on your side and that General and his youma found you.”
Another clearing of his throat, as Helio raised a hand to pinch his nose gently as he sniffed. “Is there anything you need me to do? Besides, obviously, to stop acting like an arrogant jerk.”
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Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2018 10:51 pm
"I amaze you." Faustite smirked. He added teasingly, "how interesting."
It must look like stride. Like he was made of sterner material compared with one who threw his life to the whims willingly. The thought earned a good-natured c**k of a brow. How long had it been since he felt decent, if worn? Good, even. Like he tapped a well of energy despite his misfortunes. Schörl knew his failings, of course, could count each on her fingers. She saw where he began and how he progressed. How he adamantly fought her rule until she proved it, and excised her judgments from him. Heliodor undoubtedly felt similar pains under her guidance — and he had half a mind to ask after them.
But Heliodor would express much more sullenly with her wicked wiles. No, there would be no more Heliodor. No more Aelius Drayson. No more living ghost of Rowan Cameron. He would sooner do himself away than life through her bittermost points. He would not ask.
Sitting up grew too troublesome, taxing his muscles so far into debt that they yearned to collapse on themselves. He reclined into a puddle of joint and bone. "Strange what a difference it makes if you have something to live for." Faustite stared down his subordinate enigmatically. "But don't let appearances fool you. Sometimes I cry," he finished with a lift of brows.
"Don't be so quick to celebrate. Schörl has you on a strict regimen, doesn't she? All work and no play on five hours of sleep or less? That's going to stay for a while, Heliodor. What I tried with you doesn't work. You fought me unrelentingly. But I know that Schörl's setups are efficient. Brutal, but efficient. And brutality is what the Negaverse favors most, isn't it?" He studied his subordinate, ever searching for traits that flagged his approval — or disapporval. Cocks in the line of mouth, the stiffening of the jaw, small movements in the eyes. He knew how to be so expressive; never would he win a poker tournament. And Faustite, in turn, was losing that stoicism. Perhaps it wasn't all bad.
After a lapse of silence, he spoke again. "I need you to take me to the showers. You will stay with me. Then you will watch me sleep. Wake me up if I start sleepwalking. Use your magic if you have to. Repeat your orders back to me."
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Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2018 11:57 pm
Something to live for? Maybe I’ll figure that out at some point. For now, just existing works. It was a lovely idea though. Having a purpose. Having a reason to wake up each morning.
A brow rose to match Faustites at the mention of crying. For some reason, Heliodor found it terribly hard to picture his black-eyed Captain shedding tears of any sort, and it had nothing to do with his inhuman appearances.
Like a child in school being told that they'd have homework over spring break, Helio physically wilted at the mere mention of his torturous schedule structured by Schorl being upheld. He had hope that sleep would become a more prominent part of his days but it was not to be so. Every line on the corrupts face showed his dismay at the expectations. But, he didn’t object though words wanted to fly from the tip of his tongue. “Right.” It was about all he could muster in that moment in acceptance to his rigorous schedule.
The silence was well seated with Heliodor as he sat back in his chair with Faustite having relaxed once again into his bed. He could remember a time when such silence between them would have invoked uneasiness, now...well, it wasn’t necessarily welcomed but it wasn’t anxiety provoking either. He could accept the quietude.
“Excuse me, you want me to what?” He said, taken a bit off guard by the sudden demands. “I mean, sorry, I can understand why the showers and all, but why must I watch you sleep?” A paused. “Did something happen? Has sleepwalking been an issue of yours? Afraid that you may fall in your…” He forcibly stopped himself when he realized where his words were taking him.
“Right. I’ll do it of course, but I won’t deny it’ll be oddly...discomforting to just sit here and watch you sleep. I have to admit, I don’t think I’d be able to sleep knowing someone was sitting there watching me.” But then again, I didn’t spend weeks wandering the Rift, either.
Standing from his seat, Helio pushed his chair back and well out of the way so that neither of them, especially Faustite, could possibly trip over the piece of furniture. “I am assuming you’d rather walk than be carried to the showers?”
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Posted: Tue Mar 20, 2018 6:52 am
Schörl broke him somewhat. The evidence was there. The complacency, the resignation, the rings of insomnia under the eyes. But he would accept this yoke until he couldn't think, couldn't feel. Until he wanted sleep more than love, and food more than caring. How long would that take? Faustite knew, from his own schedule, that he lasted no more than a month. A month, and he had nothing left to say to Schörl but what she required. Heliodor was two weeks in.
"Your ears still don't work. Remember the last time you failed to repeat orders?" Faustite hadn't and he lacked the welts on his feet that likely plagued Heliodor for much of the time Faustite spent missing. Walking on skin treated by a rattan cane served a potent reminder. "I must have sterted sleepwalking in the Rift. I fell asleep in one area and woke up in another. Every time I slept. That's why I spent weeks trying to find the Citadel — every time I made progress. I woke up somewhere else. But I've never had that problem before. Never distrusted my own body like this." Even through all the changes, sleepwalking never took mention; why now?
"You would be. By now you're exhausted all the time. Sick of alarms. Sick of everyone. Grateful for orders so you odn't think about how tired you are." Even if Heliodor imagined such an arrangement was too uncomfortable, his body wouldn't care. Exhausted, he'd lapse into unconsciousness — even in the vicinity of a dozen people all staring at him. That he still disbelieved such a result was startling. "You learn to sleep anywhere."
Faustite struggled to sit up once more, limbs trembling under the weight. His eyes sunk, his cheeks hollowed, and his perpetual pallor looked somehow paler. Exhaustion wrote its way through him indelibly. "I'm not waking up in the Rift again. Whatever it takes. I won't survive it a second time — not now."
Thin legs made thinner found their way to the floor. Faustite negotiated his IV carefully — he picked the tape off, seldom troubling the needle, until he could pull it free without incident. Black flowed out, but a palm over the back of his hand staunched the lot of it. "Get me that gauze," he urged with a nod toward one of the distant tables. After Heliodor followed through, he would borrow the IV's tape.
"You'll help me walk." He slipped carefully from the gurney, legs tentative in testing the ground. In finding that they could still bear weight. He would be exhausted by the end of this single room, he knew; making it out to the showers asked a grievous lot of overtaxed and underfed muscles. But that was what Heliodor was for, if nothing else — a living crutch.
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Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2018 12:33 pm
Oh. He remembered quite well what happened the last time he didn’t follow orders. The worst thing was, he didn’t do it on purpose. His mind tended to jump ahead of what was requested of him and in this particular instance, his surprise at what was being requested. Sure, following orders was a more simple way of plodding through life and training, but sometimes he just...missed them.
At the mention of waking up in the Rift and Faustite’s determination and surety that he’d not succeed in surviving another visit it was then that Helio realized how bad of shape his Captain really was. As requested, he turned and grabbed the gauze, handing it over without comment. It didn’t take more than a few moments for Faustite to rid himself of the IV and bandage up the pin p***k of a hole left behind by the needle. Helio found himself fascinated by the dark liquid that had flowed from the small wound, another curious effect of the youma that was a part of the young man.
Stepping up, Helio took a position beside Faustite a hand held out to help the smaller agent as bare feet pressed onto tile floor. Watching him, Helio worried that such spindly legs would give out, but the appendages held Faustite up, if just barely. “I’ll help you walk, but if you need me too, I can carry you.” Pressing the issue wasn’t worth it. If it were him, he wouldn’t want to be carried either. Especially here. No, he’d want to put up face that he could walk about on his own even if it was an exhausting and painful affair. I did it after that caning. So I can understand a bit.
With patience, and a strong arm, Helio moved along at the pace that Faustite set. Stopping when needed and lending more support when it looked warranted, but the corrupt took care not to overstep his boundaries in this. What should have been a short jaunt was a long, almost painstaking walk, but the showers would be a much needed for his commanding officer if the purple haired corrupts nose was anything to go by.
If nothing else, Faustite would be able to wash off the reek of the rift. A likely much needed and warranted affair.
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