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 Posted: Wed Jun 08, 2022 6:38 pm
He seldom spoke of it, but keeping up a glamour was wearisome. Faustite never managed to exceed three hours in Eion's false skin, and on days like this when he pushed its limit, he felt fatigue burrow deep in his bones.
Unlike the day that he met Lionel, there were none to witness Faustite's glamour burning away as he exhausted his energy for keeping it up. Eion would be no more for the rest of his day, leaving an exhausted General to drag his leaden feet into the park he'd skirted. Perhaps it was obtuse of him to wander into a forested area when he was a walking fire hazard, but Faustite summoned no strength to care when he beelined for a bench.
It would be only for a moment that he'd rest. The moon was high in the sky, and the night was deep, and an insectoid chorus chirped out its summer overture to the harmony of rustling leaves. He felt no auras in his immediate vicinity.
All the better, for Faustite needed a quick energy fix. Slouching, the burning General summoned a screwdriver in one hand and a bag of jerky in the other. The jerky became his bench companion as he began disassembling the cage that held him together, and set the pieces on the opposite side to his intended energy boost.
Perhaps it would be wiser to sleep right then, but there was always so much more to do.
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Posted: Sun Jun 12, 2022 12:33 am
Kerberos usually made his way to the park bench he liked to sit at, the one that had been home to Hvergelmir before him, in his civilian guise for as long as he could before he powered up. It would do him no good to give the Negaverse the ability to track where he came from, and so he tried to vary his routes, vary the times he arrived somewhat, even vary how far away he powered up.
This time, he was still human as he walked down a winding path, but when he spotted the man on fire in the distance, his breath hitched and he ducked off, into the shadows, so he could power up.
There was no way he was approaching a Negaverse officer--for that had to be one, one of the poor bastards who'd been fed too many starseeds or tangled with the wrong creature and wound up half-youma--in his civvies.
As Transcendent Eternal Sailor Kerberos, he was much more capable of defending himself. It was definitely the right move, he thought, because that was 100% a General's aura and he did not want to die tonight.
He approached as casually as he could, taking in the person in front of him. He looked...haggard.
The little package of beef jerky on the bench almost made him snort.
"Evening, General," Kerberos said, idly. He didn't think he knew this one, so he would have to be careful how he approached things.
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Posted: Sun Jun 12, 2022 4:16 am
The aura flare was loud — pompous and crass, pausing him, before he regained himself enough to finish disassembling the front of his core. By then, the interloper arrived and flaunted its nerve to greet him.
Faustite's attention lit on the senshi as he reached for the bag of jerky. Found it blind, somewhere between staring at this one's whorish outfit and returning to the face. He hadn't seen this one prior, and hadn't any clues on the sphere. He doubted 'sluttiness' qualified. Perhaps 'ostentatiousness', or whatever flowers those were that sat on the a** wings. Unfortunate that this one wasn't an easy tell.
Faustite tore open the bag, took out a handful of jerky strips, and dumped them into the exposed fire in his center. His attention never left his visitor.
"Piss off, Senshi," he warned.
Perhaps, as part of SpecOps now, he would be expected to kill this one, or bring it in. Perhaps gathering information from it would be stepping on the Information branch's toes, but until he got into Ashanite's office with a cute boy and began formally learning from someone, he had to make his own choices. And this one, fortunately or not, qualified as a cute boy.
Perhaps Ashanite would rather like a transcendent senshi, should this one refuses his command.
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Posted: Sun Jun 12, 2022 9:39 pm
"Wow, you're charming," Kerberos said, dryly. He put his hands on his hips, and examined the General for a long moment. He was pretty sure he'd remember someone on fire, and even if they'd met before this poor b*****d's transformation into a half-youma, he suspected he would remember that face. It was a cute one, certainly.
"I don't think we've met. I'm Kerberos," he introduced himself, and he wondered if this one was a reader of the database. Wondered if his name was in it, marked out as a traitor. Maybe marked out for Jet's special disfavor after the little adventure at the generators.
He could not decide if he wanted that or not. It'd be nice, to be notorious, but also sort of a pain in the a**.
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Posted: Sun Jun 12, 2022 9:58 pm
Mouth half-full of screws, his attention slid to Kerberos with a seething brilliance that expressed <******** off at six hundred degrees. "Did I ******** stutter?" His eyes rolled.
Setting the pair of circular disks aside, Faustite rose to his feet, and tossed the screwdriver up to catch it backward. He considered, briefly, putting the screwdriver through this one's thigh for having the nerve to walk up and talk to him, to have a ******** conversation like he had a cup of ******** tea in his hand, like they were having some bullshit normal day in a ******** park, but —
Painful as it was to admit, this dipshit glowstick of a thought was a Boy. A Cute Boy.
And he hated that. Mainly for himself.
He narrowed his eyes at the boy, then looked at the screwdriver, then sighed smoke as exasperation claimed his face. Couldn't stab the ******** boy because the ******** boy was a ******** <********/>"… Chrysocolla," Faustite offered, screwdriver still clutched in his hand.
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Posted: Sun Jun 12, 2022 10:19 pm
"No," Kerberos said, but he smiled, "but I'm really bad at listening to authority figures of any kind."
And also, this was way more interesting than just plopping on his bench and hanging around--and he was probably doing a service, keeping this General talking and focused on him, so that he wasn't out bothering civilians.
Or whatever.
The name, though. That made him bark.
"Is the Negaverse reusing names now? Because I've met Chrysocolla, and that seems like it'd get confusing." He raised his eyebrows. "So how about we try again, handsome, and you don't lie to me this time?"
Really, it was bad luck for this one that he knew the real Chrysocolla, but alas.
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Posted: Sun Jun 12, 2022 11:01 pm
For what tension the echo of that name laced into his screwdriver-wielding fingers, they relaxed in his burning consternation when Kerberos called him handsome. Then he was caught between incredulous and flustered, where he floundered for words as his face flushed and his fire grew smokier and he had to take the screws out of his mouth lest he swallow them.
Completely uncalled for, that. Suddenly, he was in a very different type of battlefield, in which he lacked the tactics and experience to maneuver against a war-scarred opponent. He hated it, and he hated that this one was a boy. Why couldn't Kerberos be a girl? Then there would be no question —
"No," he sputtered at last. One witty repartee, he told himself. He'd heard better from Albite.
And he was certain Alkmene would be palming his own face red by now. Celadonite would have walked away, never sparing him a second chance.
"Get ********, you ******** rent boy. If you want my name, ask Chrysocolla for it." If that b***h was still slinking around. He hadn't seen her since they met through Waru's thickheaded matchmaking horseshit, and he liked to think she went home that night and did them all a favor.
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2022 12:58 am
Kerberos couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, even if he tried to bury it. It was cute, to know that he could still fluster his ostensible enemies.
"I dunno," Kerberos said, "I'd rather just hear it from you." He put a hand on his hip and popped it out, looking him up and down. He was distinctive--if Kerberos really wanted to, he could probably also check the Order database and see if anyone had reported a General who was literally on fire. But he wasn't about to admit that such a thing existed; the less the Negaverse knew about how Order could or couldn't share information, the better.
"But, you know, if you're too busy, I can always take myself and my incredibly~ abundant~ energy~ somewhere else," he said. He'd noted a tiredness in the General; perhaps he could trade some of the overflow his planet granted him for a little information. Kerberos liked to know things; it helped him accomplish his goals. The better he understood the Negaverse's current crop of leaders, the better he could do, helping them and the people under them get out.
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2022 6:55 am
He'd rather. Faustite rolled his eyes. This one thought itself a saucy thing.
While the senshi posed and postured, Faustite turned his attention back to the bench, where he gathered up the disks that fitted into the center of his grate. He'd replace them when he returned to the Dark Kingdom, where he could be unbothered in his chair and suffer no wearisome, flirtatious senshi. These, he vanished to subspace with the screws, bolts, and screwdriver.
As he straightened up, he paused, and stared with concentrated incredulity at the middle distance. Because of course this one was trying to ply him with energy.
This one thought he needed permission to drain. Either that, or he thought Faustite would suffer politeness.
So the burning General held his hand out, as if a server at a restaurant or an expectant collector waiting to be paid. "Schörl," he answered again, and began plucking at the strand of energy in his vicinity with his wearied concentration.
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2022 12:08 pm
Kerberos had, he would admit, forgotten that Generals could drain energy without contact. It had never been an ability he bothered with in his time in the Negaverse--he'd been an Eternal for about five minutes before he found Hvergelmir and she finally convinced him to come home. Alas.
Butt he name. The name this General invoked--the flirtation fled Kerberos's face in an instant, and he was not fast enough with making his emotions to cover the fear that flickered through his eyes.
So soon after Murikabushi's magic making him crave a drink like he hadn't in years, the tide of memories invoked by the name "Schörl" nearly made him stumble. Was this one of her sycophants, the ones who looked at her and saw something aspirational? Or one of the other myriad she had tread under her fine leather boots? Hard to guess. Kerberos wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Maybe this'll go faster," Kerberos said, and there was no keeping the strain out of his voice, even though he tried to force a smile and keep his tone light, "if I told you I used to be in the Negaverse and I know a lot of people because of it. Or maybe you'll eventually hit somebody I never met. Anyway, if you're gonna be a d**k and take it anyway," and, fearlessly, Kerberos plopped on the arm of the bench and proffered his arm--the left, the one marked by vine-and-flower burn scars. "I feel like I should demand you take me to dinner first."
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2022 7:07 pm
Her name was a key. Not every lock recognized her, but when one did, the click of the tumblers was an unmistakeable thing. Faustite's attention rested steady on Kerberos as the flash of fear threaded through him. A fleeting thing, but it changed the boy's tone immediately.
"You're a turncoat," Faustite rephrased. His attention half on the orb that grew in his palm, he couldn't make more of a retort than an affronted scowl when this one settled back into his tired jabs.
Even as his arm stretched outward, Faustite did not reach for it. Didn't need to — and, he expected, even having some experience in the Negaverse, this one may not fully understand that a youmafied officer was a weapon unto themselves. His cute little scarifications would bubble up into fat, ugly welts if Faustite held his arm in the same style of a fresh Lieutenant learning to drain.
"Don't think you'll like the dinner I give you. You admitted to a Special Operations General that you're a traitor — remember what that entails? Better you bargain for your life now, Kerberos. What will you tell me that's worth letting you walk away?
"Think carefully, Battery. Know Her plan for things like you."
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2022 8:03 pm
"Oh, yeah, very much a turncoat, and I must say that I very firmly owe General Schörl for making my decision to leave incredibly easy," Kerberos said. A bitter tinge entered his tone. Here, he would probably be able to tell if this one was wound about her finger, and to what extent.
He withdrew his arm after a moment--sticking it into a furnace wasn't on his to-do list, and keeping it close to Faustite was starting to feel uncomfortably like that.
"And here's the thing, Mr. Big Bad Special Operations General: you and yours can't kill me in a way that matters, not ever since my planet decided to wrap my starseed in a gooey layer of magical 'get ********.'" A soft snort. "And, also, if we fight, you will have a bad time. You look like you are having a bad enough time, I am not interested in making it worse unless you make me."
He considered, briefly.
"As much as I like a good bargain, though, I'm not sure what I have to offer you that I'd be willing to give, truth be told."
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2022 4:11 pm
Quote: CW: hypothetical child harm
But that was for another time. For now, this one thought taunting would get him something other than a bad time, despite knowing Schörl. A tragically misguided assumption, he thought.
"Can't kill you in a way that matters — because I can't take your starseed or fill it with Chaos? Logical fallacy." He shrugged, and his free hands fingers spread out in a flourish. "Assume I kill you, then. If you rebirth instantly, the body demands a count of years to grow. Seen your kind quite young; assume you come back maybe eight years later.
"Did you think that eight years gains nothing for the Negaverse? That we wouldn't have ascertained an end to your transcendence?" He posited, and a claw touched his lower lip in mock thought. "Then we know to hunt a child every eight years, if we need more time to break your glow.
"Don't need to kill you, though. Better if I didn't. Could cut your spinal cord at the neck, or take your arms, your legs, your teeth. Keep you alive in the Dark Kingdom as a battery indefinitely. All that 'incredibly abundant' energy, fueling the Negaverse for decades.
"Might make you my personal footrest, too," he finished, as he examined an energy orb before popping it in his mouth. A brittle crunch, and he inhaled a refreshing boost of energy.
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2022 8:27 pm
Kerberos snorted. "You really are full of dedication to your job, aren't you, oh terrifying Special Operations General."
It was true. There were fates the Negaverse could inflict upon him that were much worse than death.
"I'm fully aware that there is no depth of depravity the Negaverse is not willing to sink to," Kerberos said, and the easy tone had left his voice, to be replaced by a sharp edge. "I watched. I participated. I know I probably don't look it now, but I was Special Operations, too. So if you're trying to intimidate me by reminding me what you could do: I'm not afraid." That wasn't entirely true; the thought of being a battery for the Negaverse chilled him to the bone. But they hadn't done it to Ganymede, as far as he knew--he was pretty sure news of that would have gotten out. And, anyway, he was sure that if they did, he'd be able to sway someone into just killing him. There were always a few more potential traitors in the Negaverse.
He pushed himself into a standing position, eyeing the energy orb. He'd never thought to eat one, before, but perhaps half-youma were just different.
"In any case, I feel I've given you quite a few tasty tidbits, and I would be very happy to elaborate on the circumstances of my defection if you'd like, so can I ask one question in return?"
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2022 2:30 am
He couldn't stand around weathering snide insults forever, Faustite knew — his temper wouldn't stand for it. Even after only a few, he felt his lip twitch and his spit boil. He spat something black and sizzling at the boy in front of him; perhaps he'd learn to drop the stupid taunts. Petty nonsense, all of it.
"So that's how you know Her." Faustite's expression hadn't improved. It could've been wrong, that assumption, but he hadn't known of a Kerberos in the Negaverse for the duration of his time there. Faustite himself may have been too new to overlap with this one. However, Schörl had been in SpecOps before her transfer to GenOps, and never ceased practicing all the hellish knowledge she imparted to that branch. Perhaps he even participated in some of her missions.
For he was sure she had a few, being a General of the Negaverse. One did not attain that rank by collecting energy and filing routine reports.
Faustite shook his head. "Only a reminder — your protected eternity isn't always a gift." He was as sincere in that as any of his other statements; Faustite was never interested in threats. By virtue of being spoken, they were less likely to happen, and no part of his statement included that he would be the one doling out such a judgment. "Don't have a weapon for paring you down.
"You asked many," Faustite countered as he rested a hand on his hip. He shifted, though he hadn't yet started to pace. "If you so badly need my name, it's Faustite." Perhaps that would bring this shifty little informant back into compliance.
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