The Calling (7) : A beautiful melody drift on the air from somewhere far away. The vocals are in a language you don’t quite recognize, but feel somehow familiar to you. Something about the song calls to you, but no matter where you go, the song seems to sound the same distance away. The longer it goes on, the more emotional the song becomes--and the more emotional you become. Something about the song is possessive and consuming, like it’s all you can think of. Something resonates in you as the song crescendos, and the feeling is at its strongest--be they good, bad, anything, but suddenly the song fades, and there’s only an emptiness inside of you. The feeling of loss is strong, and can leave someone feeling emotionally numb. Someone out there was calling to you, and you couldn’t find them.
Rakovanite went out every other night, at least. Sometimes it was to siphon energy from the summer evening crowds, a task that was hardly even worth considering a "chore" at this point. No one even had to see him or know he was there for him to be able to take from them. But other times he was out only as a scout, to see who would respond to his presence and what such a response would entail.
Fortunately or not, this one was a quiet night.
Which seemed especially out of place to Rakovanite, given the city's festival holiday in full swing and the nation's independence holiday rapidly approaching. There should be people everywhere: in the downtown shopping districts or on the reservoir's beaches or under the sparkling lights in the park. But there were so few. He'd found scattered groups of civilians, but no one came hunting for him. Everyone busy with their own families and holidays, perhaps?
Regardless of why it was so, Rakovanite found himself moving openly down a winding stone pathway in one of the larger local parks. There had been a cluster of teens lounging and hanging on the playground equipment near the entrance, but as he moved farther from the parking lot, farther along the path, all traces of city life seemed to fall off.
No people, no building lights, no sounds besides the cicadas. Just Rakovanite's steps and the shadows he cast from the pathway lanterns that lined the ground to either side of the walk.
And mysterious- music?
He eyed the path ahead, searched with his senses for traces of an aura, but found none. But that sound- He couldn't place it. It was like nothing he'd heard before, yet it was familiar and tugging, drawing him to continue forward despite his confusion and the nagging sense that there was more to this than was normal.
The melody was haunting and slow, like no earthly instrument, and no matter how quickly he traveled, it stayed low and quiet and unreachable. It had to be magical. It must be-
He made it no further before he felt an aura, and even in that state of desperate curiosity, Rakovanite knew better than to go blindly forward when enemies were nearby. It may have been their magic all along, drawing him into a fight he couldn't be prepared for. He should be reasonable and be patient. His body stilled next to a luxurious fountain, and his dark gaze roved the trees lining either side of the pathway.
He would not provoke a fight where there was none. That would be far more effort than he was planning on expending, and he preferred any casualties to be exactly that: meticulously and excruciatingly planned.
It would be a waste to incite violence here and now.
"You can come forward," he invited, though his tone was chilly and quiet. "I have no intention of causing a scene unless I am given reason to. An unknown enemy creeping around unseen is a better reason than most."
Posted: Sat Jul 03, 2021 6:58 am
Cybele-- Brielle, really, had been lying low for the past several weeks, when it came to the war. Part of the promise at her purification had been that she would have a life outside of all the conflict, and she had been doing all that she could to fulfill that for herself. She'd read books and allowed herself to be whisked off to spa days. She'd looked into theater productions and come out to public festivals. It had been nearly a month since she'd powered up at all, and she was strangely all right with that.
Still, it was Destiny City. It was only a matter of time before something dangerous came up.
She'd been at the Star Festival, alone. It had just been meant to be a quick trip to pick up some little surprise gifts for her friends, but even the short amount of solitude had her wary.
When she heard the music on her way out, coming from the opposite direction of the festivities, she ducked into a hidden spot to henshin before following the tune.
Perhaps she should have been even more careful than that. She could not tell if there was magic in the music, but it tugged at her chest like one of the memories that would never quite come back to her. If she found a source, she thought, maybe everything would become clearer. Or perhaps it was something dangerous, luring people closer. Either way, she needed to be there. There was a quiet yearning in her eyes as she began to run, heels clicking on pavement, and then, a few minutes later, on the dirt and grass of park turf.
What she found there was a Negaverse aura.
The voice was cold, cutting through whatever manic curiosity had brought her this far in an instant.
She knew who was speaking to her. Rakovanite was one of the agents she knew better than the others, although that was little comfort to her now that she was wearing white. Her jaw set as she remembered their last mission together.
On top of his calculated ruthlessness, he was Sylvite's friend. This was far from the best agent to discover that she'd left, but there was little to be done about it now.
She stepped out from behind a small grove of trees into flickering lanternlight, her head held high. "Good evening, Rakovanite," she said, careful to keep her own face blank.
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Posted: Sat Jul 03, 2021 4:21 pm
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The woman who stepped before him did not look daunted in the slightest. A flowing white bodice, a crown of antlers atop her head, mint hair spilling in waves over her shoulders, carefully guarded expression. Rakovanite stood, rigid and staring and thinking as Cybele stepped through the trees. He had glimpsed this senshi in her white fuku only once before, and the occasion had been fraught with distractions, such that he may have forgotten it had happened at all, if she weren't standing there now, in the same garb.
"Cybele," he murmured softly, with only the slightest raised inflection betraying his surprise.
He hadn't known there'd been danger of her purifying. Anytime Cybele's name came up in conversation it was only to say what an asset she was. She carried out her missions. She fulfilled her quota. She was polite and dutiful, if a little dry. She wasn't tied by the same reluctance so many others were. She would fight. She would kill. He would know. He'd seen it.
Though his doubt and confusion were masked, the thought made him give voice to his first uncertainty: "You recognize me." If she had purified and abandoned her life in the Negaverse, he might have expected the memories to go with it. But she said his name. She knew him. She knew the life she'd had before, still.
"The black suited you better."
No one had informed him of her betrayal, though perhaps that wasn't exactly a surprise. It wasn't entirely his business what happened to any individual senshi. But they'd worked together. They were both Sylvite's friends and peers. It didn't seem like something that would be kept from him, unless- Rakovanite's brows furrowed, the corners of his lips quirking down in thought. "Does she know?"
Posted: Sat Jul 03, 2021 5:05 pm
While Cybele was not sure that she could say she knew Rakovanite well, they'd worked together enough that she could recognize the subtle emotion in his voice.
He seemed as surprised that she knew who he was as he did that she was standing before him in white clothes. She supposed that made some sense. She'd first met him soon after her corruption, when she had very much been a shell what she should have been. The Chaos had taken every memory from her, along with her sense of self.
Now, though, things were different, and there was a hint of pride to Cybele's smile as she said, "I remember you. It turns out the purification was gentler, in that regard."
It had its steep price in other ways. She was sure it would not take his sharp eyes long to realize that her Eternal wings were gone, and she watched him carefully, wondering if he'd try to take advantage of her sudden weakness.
At the mention of her, Cybele shrugged slightly. She'd have thought that word of what had happened with Ganymede might spread, even if they had not suspected that she might actually purify, but perhaps it had not.
"I'd be surprised if Sylvite does not suspect anything at this point, but you're the first agent to know," she said, voice still steady even as she gave him a subtle nod.
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Posted: Sun Jul 11, 2021 9:49 am
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She was in white now. Rakovanite's shoulders set, his breath leaving him on a soft sigh. She would be like the rest of them: pretentious and ungrateful and blaming every problem to ever exist on chaos and those who were unworthy of the cosmos' gifts. 'The purification was gentler,' indeed.
"Your corruption could have been just as much so," he retorted in a rumble. "But fights are rarely gentle. You conveniently forget that it could just as easily have been your death. Your starseed crushed- and with it, your soul, your entire world, gone. No more Cybele. Ever. It would have been easier than wasting the energy on you. Easier than helping you try to acclimate. Easier than fretting over how likely it was for your memories to turn you against us." He'd wondered how someone with so much past with Order would fare against their will. Not well, apparently. "But she wanted to spare you. She agreed to put in that effort when it would have been easier to not. It could have been gentle. You chose otherwise."
And Cybele didn't even care. He could tell in the nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. Why should she? Sylvite was just her captor, obviously. Nothing more than that.
"I suppose I should be honored," Rakovanite murmured, dark gaze downcast. The first to 'know' of a traitor's desertation. One more enemy to face.
"She will be upset." Probably. He didn't know the full extent of their relationship, but he knew of Sylvite's pride in her conquest, knew how happy she was when she spoke of her recruits and their successes, knew of her excitement to help Cybele settle in, her eagerness to introduce her to everyone. If anyone was going to have a positive transition from Order to Chaos, Rakovanite imagined they'd do well with Sylvite as a general. But with as exhaustive a history as Cybele had with Order, it was hard to know what would be enough.
He supposed he was just lucky that his own conquest didn't have such a history.
"It is a saddening situation," he said quietly.
Posted: Mon Jul 12, 2021 6:13 am
Cybele sighed, the sharp sound of it cutting through the illusion that she still did not care.
"Oh, I know all about how I was saved," she said, her voice just as flat, but a few tones lower. "Sylvite wouldn't stop talking about how I was chosen and spared because of how powerful and special I was." Cool and awesome had also been among the words used to describe her. The bubbly little General had been full of compliments and misplaced pride and not much else.
"Of course I fought it, back then. Of course I fought the people whose definition of saving someone is destroying everything that's them and manipulating the last shreds of their will through every tactic available until they feel like there's no choice but to crush other people's souls and futures."
Her eyes narrowed, but never left Rakovanite's face. She wasn't sure that he'd understand the problems with the Negaverse's actions. She hadn't, not until she'd taken nearly a week to mull it over, and even then her thoughts had been muddied by the Chaos.
The true disgust had only come later, in late, sleepless nights after her purification.
"Of course I'll fight it again," she said, then, with a tilt of her head, added, "Send Sylvite to me, if you'd like. I'll show her my appreciation."
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Posted: Fri Jul 15, 2022 4:52 pm
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'Powerful and special.'
Rakovanite had absolutely no doubt that this was exactly what every senshi was accustomed to hearing when they were awakened. A Mauvian would regale them about how unique and good and chosen and whole they were and tell them how it was their duty and destiny to save some faraway, dead world, and the whole Earth while they were at it! And why would they question it? Why would any senshi question a talking cat giving them magical gifts and telling them how much better they were than everyone else? He understood why they wouldn't. Rakovanite understood the lure of being filled with greater purpose.
He just did not think having a gift handed down practically by birthright was any reason for someone to think they were special.
"I think... we see things differently," he murmured softly, but his gaze was sharp and cutting on her. "I consider it more 'sparing' than 'saving.' As far as I am concerned, the power you have has no business existing, and destroying it by removing 'Cybele' from this plane is the most suitable answer. People with more knowledge and experience than me have decided your value is worth your life, your planet's life." His voice dropped very slightly, only a tight little whisper. "Because you are valuable... By giving you this power, the universe inherently assigned worth to you and proclaimed that everyone else was... fodder."
His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, thumb rubbing against his forefinger in a barely-there anxious signal. "This is disgusting." He murmured. Disgusting for the world to choose who was worth something and who wasn't. But they would never see that. He could practically hear her- or anyone else responding, 'All this murder over jealousy?' They wouldn't see it how he saw it. Not 'inequality.' Just 'jealousy.'
"It is... not..." His brows furrowed slightly, trying to piece words and feelings together that he hadn't articulated before. "It is not 'correct' by standards you consider proper for me to feel like this," Rakovanite admitted. "But I did before I was corrupted. It is not because of Chaos' influence."
Because that was how they justified what they did while serving Metallia. The Chaos forced them. No acknowledgement that it was still a choice they'd made.
It just happened that this was what he chose. Rakovanite's head notched up, a small, thin little ghost of a smile appearing on his lips. "I chose this. Anyone can choose this. Chaos does not discriminate. There is no requirement for 'special' if you are willing to prove that you can be worthwhile." And maybe there was just the barest edge of a threat there, his weight shifting forward just enough for someone standing in front of him to be aware of it. Because he could see how her blessed purification had weakened her.
"You waste your breath threatening Sylvite," he said dismissively, idly flicking his fingers to brush her snarky commentary away as his dark gaze moved to the adornments on her hips- or lack thereof. "You and I both know she is more than a match for you." His head canted slightly. "Provided there is anything left after I am finished."
He flicked from where he stood, appearing in front of her in a blink with palm burying into her chest before he'd even fully steadied himself. Someone should end this. He had always been perfectly fine to be the one to do things no one else wanted to.
...Except Cybele wasn't "his" senshi or "his" recruit, not "his" conquest or "his" teammate.
But Sylvite was his friend. Rakovanite would hate to steal from her. "But I should express restraint..." He murmured, hand already retracting, empty. "It is not my place." There was nothing more personal between them than there was for Rakovanite and literally any other senshi. He should be decent and let someone she'd hurt decide where her place was.
