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 Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 7:43 am
He’d never tire of the place, Faustites ‘Den’, an office, yes, technically, but for Waru? It’d always be so much more. A melting pot of marks made lovingly by human hands, youma claws, and cat-prints — scorch mark grooves worn smooth over stone — bits of ceiling crystal that’d once been chipped by some incident or another, and had since grown back over with the passage of time.
The way the Greater Youmas leg remained mounted in the backdrop, teeth marks on it to this day. A priceless trophy and taunting testament to Radons continued existence deep in the recesses of the Rift. Albite never had found out what became of all those scales….
Maybe someday he’d ask? All the nostalgia that warmed his smile as he approached his boy.
“You wanted to see me, Firebrand?”
He rarely asked ‘whats’ or ‘whys’ these days, it was a waste of air, and certainly he never hesitated anymore to come when called; especially not with the way their track record for tugging on aid mid near-death experience was just about equal with doing it for shits n giggles. At least on Waru’s end. He always tried to have a valid reason! He swore he did. It was convincing his teammates of that fact which was the tricky part…
Going out of business sales on the week of Black Friday were battles in their own right dammit, what better team bonding exercise than that!!
N it gave him a way to check in on them, innocuous and friendly-like. A very necessary thing to do, what with their teams endless, daunting growth; like some exponential worm that knew no limits. They fed it, tested it, n for every small segment of body or precious leg it lost? For every traitor that fled? The bulk of the thing remained. The core of it. Loyal precious many that he called family as easily as friends. The lovers caught in the cracks between like valuable cartilage.
Even with the second coming of the world's end, and all his most harrowing ******** – even with the aftermath of the Farnsworth incident….
Things were going, by his own optimistic estimate, good as they damned well coulda been. Albite stood at lazy attention before his boy, all lax Eternal and soft asks while he loomed without fidgeting; save for the need to thumb the band of his ring. One day the etchings would likely be worn smooth by his need to touch – the way oils of the flesh and basic hand washing eroded even the sturdiest of things – and then he would ask for another; renew a vow – get Faustite a truer set for himself with matching parts. He was told triplet rings were all the rage - where the center gem was hugged by two more bracketing pieces like the worlds sparkliest finger hug!
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 9:38 am
Faustite looked up from the hand-sketched map that sprawled over the entirety of his glass desk. Always felt that spark of elation when he set eyes on Albite — that [a boy is here to see me, even when it was his boy — and he struggled against reigning back a smile. There would be time for easily granted hugs and grins and kisses, times outside the hours of his office dwelling or energy collecting or White Moon fighting. Even if his subject matter was a margin more grim than that.
So he sat up, crossed a leg, kept his attention trained on his boy. "Had something to discuss." He nodded toward a seat, though it was unspoken that his boy could join him instead.
Albite often did, even if Faustite sometimes worried that his stool would give up at last between them. Sturdy thing had survived a couple of firestorms, a few fights, and even Faustite's reckless tantrums. Still, it could no better regenerate than Faustite could regrow his internal organs; surely, after enough abuse, the thing would give up at last.
Most of the time, he gave little thought to the decor around his office. He placed none of it himself — all were donations by the team, or gifts given to him by special boys. It was now, however, that he became acutely aware of the youma leg mounted on the wall, and the hard-fought battle that liberated it from the body of the creature. That beast was, by no means, one of the greatest threats the Rift had to offer, but the fact that it took so much death and so much combat left him hesitant about another mission to the Rift. He would have to go, however; he knew as much.
Hence why he needed to speak with his boy. He would be the first to know, and Faustite would bend Jadarite's ear later.
"Going back into the Rift, you know." He gestured with both hands to the breadth of the meticulously kept map. "Another mission. This one with less information than the last. Could be more dangerous, could be less. Going to put the team to work for this one.
"If we face a worst-case scenario, need you to answer me: could you lead the team with Jadarite? Know we've bantered it, but this would be protocol henceforth."
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 3:31 pm
“Saying that I can, and saying that I’d want to? Those are two different things Firebrand,” the map held his attention briefly; circled the thing heel to toe and minded the edges. Delicate things didn’t need his heavy handed prints all over ‘em, but he could admire with his eyes what he couldn’t touch; the scrawl that was all Faustites own. The feel of shameless eyes. Albite tapped tuneless as he traced glass–felt his smile falter for the content of the talk.
“That is — saying that I’d want to, without you?”
But he knew his boy was asking about willingness, compliance, knew even as Faustite asked that he’d subvert it all by choosing someone to replace him on the Senshi side of the line if his fate *somehow* paired with his boys own. He didn’t like thinking about it, losing anything, it grated coarse under his skin and the only way to alleviate the feel of that was to replace it with something else. Faustites lap was right there, his stool, coulda shared it – coulda pulled up fireside to the heat n settled himself better into a position that looked like attentive listening, instead?
There was the floor, where the cold could seep up through the knee when he knelt, where he could set himself readily between boy and carefully curated tasks all mapped out with strenuous care; warm laps were made for his head so long as he was careful of catching fire. The stretch along his inner thighs when he splayed them round the base of the stool’s legs felt good enough to be distracting, even as he propped his chin over his arms crossed over Faustites endlessly flexible legs; looking ever up, a good dog eyeing his master, forever, stupidly, in love.
“I could do it – ******** knows she could do it alone, even without me. Heh, robably with her eyes closed, while standing on her head and I know that the team’d ******** thank her for it too. J’bird is just that good sometimes,” and she stood head and shoulders above him (figuratively) when it came to the task of higher thought, masterful, stunning. She made it all look easy - had but in to reign control any number of times, and ******** it, half the time? Even he followed with so little as a second glance or third ask. There were of course. all the times he didn’t, but? That was neither here nor there.
“So the answers yes–” and Albite was serious, he meant it, he wouldn’t let all that Faustite had worked so hard for fall into ruin just because of – of – “but imma caveat that with a ‘please don’t make me ******** have to’, gimme tenmillion more ways you’ll ********’ survive this,” oh, and maybe he was talking less about the team and more about having to lead without his Husband at his side….well then….that was a whole different ball of thoughts, “even if it’s lies…”
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 3:37 pm
Faustite looked down as his boy all but crawled in his lap. Tried to look serious for it, tried to keep his knuckles pressed to his temple, tried to keep his elbow steady on the edge of the desk as he watched. A thin smile cracked, widened, and he couldn't decide if he was shaking his head at himself or at Albite. Perhaps both.
"Not planning on dying," he assured him. "Don't know what'll happen down there. Couldn't get very far. Didn't feel any youma. Could be more dangerous for youma than for people — so what would that mean for me?" Then he shifted, straightened. Hands busied themselves carding through impossibly long, astonishingly heavy dreads. Points of claws meandering delicately across Albite's scalp. It was a grim thought to consider, he knew, but when faced with his own mortality enough times, he had to start thinking about it. Planning contingencies for so many ways that a nigh-blind operation could pan out badly. He wanted to avoid what happened the last time they went into the Rift, but was that probable? Possible? If they banned starseeds six times over and searched every officer, what was to prevent one from begrudging Faustite and pulling his for bait?
And if nothing of that sort happened, then Faustite had new options open to him. New ways to split the team, to place a few leads and dispatch groups to cover more ground or coordinate an attack. Albite to draw fire, Alkmene to follow with a blanketing silence as Jadarite's axe ended the worst of their enemies. Teams led in tandem like the Rift mission before that, despite all meddling, had been successful enough.
"Think you might need to lead without me, though. Have my suspicions for how to get in. Might be stuck for a while. You'd have to be my eyes." Assuming the place wouldn't burn him up like an old fuse. The energy orb he wasted hadn't lasted long, after all.
He couldn't imagine that many would take well to Albite's orders, however. His boy was brash, and often made poor decisions in light of his continued survival. Made it through the impossible enough times that Faustite was convinced he didn't know what mortality was, and likely considered it an after-breakfast snack, or an energy drink, or a video game. He'd need Jadarite for her wits, as well as that climbing instructor of hers…
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 4:21 pm
His relieved sigh for hearing such spelled ‘Good’, even as he settled into the careful touch he craved; always, always, always. How could he not? It was the safest place in the world, right there, where he could close his eyes for five whole minutes and just bask in dark warm imaginings of forevers to come —silly little daydreams that he willed to consume his nights as often as his waking hours.
Faustite wasn’t planning on dying, none of them were, thank ********! He was just making plans, and his plans were worth listening to – an easy enough task to manage even as his mind wandered with the increase of heat. The ring of fire he slept in was far from some hellish cage like others may have imagined, it was well cushioned bedrock for his wickedness, it was protection, it was love, and most importantly?
It was his.
He could share it with permission as easily as he could cast others outside of it and watch them screech for the feel of the burn; fragile wailing things made of flesh. He was no different, save in that he’d never minded the fire, all his grimaces became grins and all his grips tighter for the challenge of outlasting it all, until his prints were seared over every inch of what was his.
His husband, his home, his friends, his myriad of loves – even his enemies – he just couldn’t ******** help himself but *touch*.
The thought popped and he settled in, hummed some more firm agreement. “Always—” oh, and Faustite was talking mission specifics, wasn’t just asking him to lead the team in the hurricane's eye of a worst case scenario; he was asking to lead them in this upcoming thing. The realization flicked him upside the back of his head, and he scoffed at his own damn self for immediately jumping to worst case scenarios, “The Scar was like that. We went down in and there wasn’t ******** to fight us..bait aplenty, right? But the basement was empty; which made it even freakier.”
“If you need me to lead for s**t like that? That, Ei, that I can do. I’ve got tools too…earrings, pendants, bells…just..all this s**t that lets me be a little bit, uhmn, tankier?” slow satisfied blinks as he ticked through his own mental inventory, terrible for pulling rank, but goodness knew he was loud enough that people would hear him – or suffer the consequences of pretending they couldn’t. ********, if all he did was draw some sorta menace off while his boy got his job done..if he relayed to him visuals from the front while he dug about in the bowels of whatever?
“D’ya think sumthin chased ‘em all off? Bigger n Radon maybe?”
What existed in the Rift that would be dangerous for youma — for Faustite – that sent them all scattering from what was, unerringly, their goddamned domain at this point.
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 4:25 pm
"Earrings will help. Suspect the pendant might have its use — if the place recognizes you as youma, might see a different response than what I saw. " Could've been that, could've been that the youma in the area had fled, could've been that the place somehow eradicated the youma nearby, even if it had done nothing to Faustite, or the senshi and cat in tow.
All the unknowns left the burning General uncomfortable. He shivered for it, despite his own heat.
Faustite hummed. "Hard to say. Have a couple hypotheses." He worried for his boy's skin integrity, however, and took a pause from the conversation to wrench his cincher into existence. Putting it on demanded that he lean back a margin, else he might scrape one of its tines upside Albite's nose. When he was certain that his fires were tame enough, he resumed carefully combing an infinite pile of dreads away from their owner's face.
"Could be that something about the building repulsed the youma in the area. Some kind of signal, or feel, or order. Can't verify that, however. Tama didn't sense anything when we were near. Neither did Fulgurite. Didn't feel anything myself. Could test with Headache, but —
"Second hypothesis was that it killed all the youma in the area. Didn't want to waste my own on that. No way to say if it's a permanent death or not — hadn't known which youma were there when it surfaced. Didn't see any dust, either, and the Rift isn't that windy.
"Third is that the youma went inside by some compulsion. Felt no auras, though. Could be that the building dampens auras somehow, but when I went in, I was by myself. No second person to test that.
"Don't know how they'd get into the place, either. Sealed up tight."
It was all to say that Faustite knew nothing about what they'd face. He hadn't even known the fates of the youma of the Scar, hadn't even seen that stupid ******** lamp merchant again, and he was supposed to be one of the Generals with robust knowledge and contact with youma. It left him feeling foolish and inept for the years he spent in Information, that he could glean so little from a preliminary check of the place. He hated having to send in a recon team, but it was what must be done.
Much as he was loathe to admit it, they would have to think on their feet.
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 4:37 pm
So smart his boy, and Albite sighed a little lighter for the reprieve of banked heat; became all the more ensconced in coziness for it. Dog in the sun lazy for distractible amounts of attention given his way; the even motions of carding hands full of care let him think, evened out his inborn urges to be less than quiet while his beloved ticked off points.
All valid, all important. Headache shouldn’t’ve been risked, couldn’t be, pain in the a** as the light show was? Albite cringed for the image of Faustite once again being small, hunched, in agony and guttered to a dying glow while spilling blacks from every end — Not piteous, never that, but wounded gravely and trying to mend it all with will alone. What he hadn’t known of youma then? He’d learned since, applied that knowledge to the way he treated precious companions like Haymitch and Cerbs. Bonded beings were extra limbs not to be carelessly parted with —
“We’ll bring all our toys together, test 'em out, see if we need to outfit the team with similar s**t so they can keep in touch while running paired points? Gonna be interesting to see if this place cares for a guise, or sees through it….” Albite wondered how alive the place was, if it had thoughts, malice, ******** knew he believed in all sorts of things that bordered superstitious.and then ran headlong into otherworldly bullshit that provers his concerns valid and true.
“How’d you find this place anyhow? Like—what led you there? You’ve re-conned it at least twice now,” Albite could get to two in his head, even without his fingers to count and his eyes mostly closed — Faustite’d taken himself, he’d taken tama n fulgs, “n it’s valid to look into. Cause places youma ain’t always means some ******** mustave gon down…”
If they were going in blind? Fine. They were going in blind, but the reasoning behind the going in — Albite could lend some credence to the idea that his beloved wanted the place he made his second home safe, that strange curiosities were worth investigating just because that was part of his purpose, both as a General, and as a denizen of the Rift with a patch of real estate in that zip code.
“N you know — I’m always down for ********, Firebrand…but if we’re already picking doors one through three of ‘least bad ends’? I mean they could’ve gotten in from beneath the place or…Okay, and now I’m wishing I’d seen it on —Wait, is this that map you’ve been…” and his face followed a weave of expressions his hands were too caught up beneath his own weight to intone. He was happy there, he wasn’t moving anytime soon; yawned through stops and starts and eventually peeled a singular eye open to view scrunchedly into his boy's ensconced rib cage; as if Agnis veiled fires would reveal some brilliant thing his husband's human mouth hadn't.
Nope — nothing — the magical binding was still conveniently cute, Faustites wending patterns n dragging nails good enough to tilt him into nuzzling his mouth back against his own folded forearms rather than murder another half-ask in its cradle.
He clearly had more thinking to do.
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 5:06 pm
"Mm." That was right, Albite collected all that strange s**t now. Faustite knew about the rugose pendant and those earrings, but he was bound to have collected more s**t since the last time they spoke about it. Surely the earrings would prove useful, especially when rappelling down into the dark, or coordinating on different floors of that same structure. He could only guess about the rest, however.
And Albite was right about the guise. About anything youma-centric, given how the building lacked a presence around it. Would Faustite start to feel something inside that the others didn't? And would it accept a youma-disguised Albite as something to which it could do the same? If it killed all the youma in the area, however, would he be willing to take that risk?
There were enough unanswered questions that warranted more isolated forays before he considered bringing an entire mission into the place. Questions that he might be able to answer more thoroughly if he got Revenant to come with him.
Faustite's attention found Albite again. "Have a few youma acquaintances. One of them told me about an earthquake in the Scar, that something new's been found. Was one of the ones I… made friends with, in a way, when I was in the Rift for a couple years. Got to know my tastes, my interests. Suspect it knew I wouldn't be able to leave it alone until I got answers out of it." And that had, thus far, proven true. The thing in the Rift had weighed on his mind at all hours, on all days, since discovering it. Sometimes he cared little about it and grew frustrated with himself for being unable to let it go. Other times he wondered why he hadn't embarked on a mission to solve its riddles yet, and was soon reminded of his abysmal lack of information.
There had to be a way to learn more. Even if it took his husband's harebrained ideas.
Faustite snorted when Albite accused him of picking through bad ends. "No different than if you started avoiding a room in your own damn house, Albite. Youma don't avoid any part of the Rift — it's theirs. It's in their nature. So when they're gone? It isn't like they just ******** went on a vacation."
Faustite sighed, took a break from sorting Albite's dreads to pinch his nose. Then he shook his head, rolled his eyes at the ceiling.
"Yes," he answered. "Took a long time to draw it, too.
"Go get the parchment journal from the bookcase. Open it from the back. Most recent page is a sketch of what we could see." The rest were other notable locations he encountered during his years down there — a footprint of the shapeshifting youma, rock formations where it made its roost, wide valleys where it antagonized other youma were in the front. Each functional at best. But as more pages passed, the sketches grew more detailed and less purpose-driven. More captures of the strange, unknowable beauty of the one home to youma.
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 5:26 pm
“Kay,” soft snort of an answer, slow to rise for all his happy gazing, because sometimes? Waru liked to imagine the lines he’d give Faustite if ever his husband aged, could see them form between the bridge of his nose and the pinch of his forehead. It’d be a nice little worry of a divot with his name on it. That was exactly what he wanted to be – a nuisance of a love remembered *bodily*, “seeee Firebrand, this is cool. Cause I knew you did tea, n carving, n – youmaing – n boat things? Didn’t know you did maps n art stuff too! S’like..every corner I turn..n there you go showing off new hobbies….”
There was a word for it, he knew, something like cart or chart or court? Maybe it had to do with the sailing his boy was also good at, just a myriad of hobbies from before that trailed over from flesh into fire. Did his boy love them? Were they boring because they had a new use that was maybe a little less fun….
Except….
Faustite was still fond of the Rift, all the ways Waru’d thought so errantly that Faustite used it to punish himself, and now if he turned the idea of that another way and looked? It was his home, too. Chosen or not, he kept up on it, had friends in it, Waru’d never even considered as much – that there were more than chatty rats and hash slinging slashers selling stories with bad ends. He hadn’t even invited them over, that was some poor host s**t he was sure people frowned upon.
Waru missed the warmth instantly, stretched like a lazy cat skywards, till something popped; his whole torso felt half baked, n he was ever more eager to fetch the book n crawl right back into the spot closest to the heat of his boy's lap. He pulled open the bookcase with care, freed its bobbling occupant with a gentling wiggle of fingers over its glowing wispy form; cutest damn thing.
“You should invite your friends over for dinner sometime..or chats? Unless your friends a giant rat. Then we’ve gotta set up house rules, those little ******** thieves.….” journal, journal, journal–wasn’t parchment just pap-oh! More careful with Faustites things, Waru was gentle with the pages, couldn’t help but peek the middle n smile, to thumb his way to the back beneath the orbs glow and admire everything within. He’d always envied his boys knifestroke lines, the peppering of little details that came from a place of *knowing* “....speaking of vacations, we really should think of setting up a second home out there. Maybe not *near* the foreboding, youmaless, ‘building ah doom’, but? All that time out there…the place is as much yours as theirs, yeah? M’surprised you don’t have a den in it or something..or like…a tiny lake of lava with your name on it? Some quasi-permanent s**t…” the words trailed off like an unended thought as he draped himself over the back of Faustites chair, over his boy; holding the book splayed for proper shared view.
To say it would’ve made him feel better, knowing Faustite had a set place to go when he did go that they could send little birdies to check for signs of life, knowing that his beloved would eventually go? On excursions, and outings, and to get away from the screaming writhe of complexly confounding humanity. He kept thinking of how he n Kama tried, so damn hard, right along with the rest of the team to keep Faustite from the *Rift* – just because it wasn’t theirs – just because they couldn’t follow – because they were afraid…
Thumbing yellowed pages marked with dark inky scrawl, he realized how unbiased those fears were in the *now*, with everything as it was in the present. Faustite was ever changing, like the focus of his art. Waru’d simply blinked n missed it.
“That way you can keep an eye on your other home comfortably, n *We* can have a place with some sorta familiar perimeter to retreat to, while we play poke-the-bear with this things walls…”
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 6:17 pm
"Wouldn't say it's a hobby. Knew how to read nautical charts — map's not much different." He tilted his head side to side, as if the proper words would rattle into being up there. "Needed to know where I was and what I was looking at when I chased that youma. Can't use electronics, didn't have a heat tolerant tablet, so I used what I had." What he had was a journal that wouldn't burn as easily and a metal pen. Faustite didn't think true hobbies were born from necessity, and he knew he wouldn't be picking up a pen in that fashion unless he needed to do so. "Drew things because it passed the time while I waited. Made maps because I needed to know which caches I already hit."
When Albite settled back in, Faustite set his talons to sorting the tousled dreads. A scalp massage wasn't out of the question, either, provided he didn't gore every fitted piece of hair that was in his way. All the while, he looked over his boy's shoulder at a book he hadn't gone through since coming back from the Rift. His boy pawed through it, as Faustite expected he would, and a few of the drawings still sparked memory.
One of them — he sketched the place because he thought it would be a proper place to bed down for a nap later, and shortly after finishing the sketch, was chased straight into the hole in the craggy basin of the cliff.
Another was a youma that he caught 'sleeping'. At the time, he thought it was sleeping, but perhaps it was more accurate to say it was inert. Like a lucid hibernation, their bodies simply stopped until they had enough energy — or enough impetus — to move. It had lain there for what must've been days, in retrospect, unresponsive to him and everything around them. When Faustite had gone back to investigate it again, the youma had simply faded from being. It was a sobering conversation to learn of that afterward.
"Mm?" Faustite perked up from his thoughts at Albite's words. "No." He snorted softly, thinking Albite was joking.
But he wasn't, was he? He actually wanted Faustite to invite youma over for dinner. "That'd be rude." Was cute of him to try, however.
Faustite felt himself flush as they continued talking of his ventures in the Rift, like he had just realized he completely misinterpreted a conversation that they had been having for hours. He'd forgotten to introduce context to his boy, and hadn't bothered explaining the differences between human and youma in a manner beyond what their handbook had implied.
"No den," he confirmed. "Or second home. They tolerate me more than the others, but — it, ah —" Faustite sighed at himself. "Youma don't use the concept of 'family' like that. Can't consider it my second home because they don't use 'home', either. Not the way we do. Besides, having a 'home' out there — it's detrimental. Need to stay mobile. Keep on your feet. Some spaces are quieter, yes, but it won't sustain you like a forest would. Not an environment we can survive in." He had to admit, it was endearing to hear Albite talking about him making a second home out there, like some misplaced idea of a heritage.
"Agreed that we should make camp, though. Better for setting up the mission and keeping ourselves supplied. Enough Generals and any extant youma would leave the place alone." Assuming they set up outside the perimeter of youma absence, for Faustite's sake. "Think the caves would suffice if we stay in the Scar. Know of a place outside it, too."
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 6:24 pm
“Mnh, s’nomadic then –” and that too was a fun concept all on its own, especially when it explained so much! The need for caches - not just because his boy’d been traveling all over for days, weeks, *years*, but because it was necessary, too. The youma didn’t settle lest they died, not in cities, or holes, or dens, “--n I promise I’d be a real good host, they uh, they gotta understand familiar even if they don’t get ‘family’, yeh?” a brief smile, and the dawning understanding of why it could never be the way he imagined – if he wanted to meet Faustites friends — beings familiar with his aura – then he’d have to go to them directly, “but you’re right, it’d be ******** if I did. Imagine – m’dinner inviting them over for ‘Dinner’, n then telling ‘em after that I’m off the menu, heh…”
Sometimes Albite wished Faustites busy fingers could’ve scrawled knowledge into his head with every soothing scritch and drag, the way it left him feeling pampered, loved; he’d missed these quiet moments that splayed the spans of time between busy. Even if the time was spent on planning, he wouldn’tve given it up for the world.
“S’fine. I like the idea of the caves, maybe something cleared out so nothing can get at our backs? That worried me most with the last mission – a camp set in a circle’s nice, but I realized it doesn’t stop things coming at you from above, or stalking the perimeter. A nice, sturdy, *unalive* wall behind us would be nice. Preferably something a bit of a ways away from the buildings ‘******** off’ zone.” and he let his gaze linger on the map, traced lines over lines over – back – the little clench of excitement for it, seeing the new and unexplored, especially since his boy was stuck on the idea of breaking in, fixing a c***k in the Rift, finding proper answers to all its mysteries.
Albite couldn’t help but want to follow along, to be helpful, and because deep down? He found it fascinating too.
“Speaking of — do we got numbers on that? How far outside the walls of this place it’s cleared, if their willing to edge up to it even though it’s emptied out? Like if you compel ‘em to just…walk till they get flinchy…” he shrugged, leaned into the touch with closed eyes while tracing the pages rough edge. He figured probably not, if nothing was going in or out, if youma currently were avoiding the area like it’d been razed by some sort of death they were blind to – “...did we consider we’re walking into some – uhmn – pit of CO’2? Like, what is it, when you can’t see it, or smell it, or….We need to send a coal miner's bird in…the little finches…n if it stops singing, or when? Then you’ve got an idea on how deep you can go….once we find an entrance for you…”
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 7:20 pm
"For me, not for them." Youma could settle because the Rift was bounty to them. Crystals provided all the energy they needed, and it was ever to their benefit to retire to areas that had a great bounty of crystals. But Faustite had no use for the energy they provided, for they wouldn't fill his stomach — only the caches of supplies did that.
Faustite tilted his head to the side as he considered how to frame the knowledge that Albite was missing. "That's part of it. Never met a youma that remembered being human, but some of them envy it. Inviting them over, dangling their hated enemy in front of them, telling them he's inedible — all insults. But the worst of it is to tell them it's dinner, then make them watch you eat. We could give them starseeds, but it doesn't erase the fact that we're making them participate in a human activity that would never hold the same meaning for them. They don't have sentiment like us. But they know when we're flaunting our freedoms as humans — freedoms they will never have again."
Faustite plucked a stray hair that laid across the dreads, then examined it as Albite went on about tactical locations for the tent. He turned the hair to and fro — straight it was, and far heavier than Albite's shed hair — until he caught the molten turn of coal to liquid gold by the end of it. Discarding it away from both of them, he continued tending to Albite's hair.
Occasionally, he pinned dreads between his knuckles and pulled gently, enough to boost endorphins. "Easy enough to use a cave. Protects us from storms, too." Downside was, if the youma returned, they'd have to fight their way out against the ones that didn't tolerate their intrusion. He wondered if they'd return already whipped into a frenzy, or if they'd be more amenable to Generals' direction once they happened upon a few agents.
Faustite clicked his tongue. "No hard numbers. Want to say it's a couple miles — know the whole Scar's empty." He considered what he saw when he visited with the others. "Saw some get near it, but not for long. Like something's repulsing them."
Smiling, Faustite drummed the pads of his fingers against Albite's scalp tunelessly. "Youma don't need to breathe, so no. Been in the building itself, but we can't get anywhere. Didn't die when I was down there, but there's always that possibility. Can't say what lies beyond.
"Thinking of taking Heliodor down for a look. Boy was interested in learning more. Think it could give him some opportunities to prove himself."
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2022 7:45 pm
A humm of understanding, brief as the weighty silence that followed spoke of peaceable thinking on his end. How he loved it when Eion explained things to him; like in terms simple as ketchup packets and scalpel sharp tally marks mapping out his needs all over again —
He hadn’t considered any number of things for Youma. How cruel his ‘ideal for himself’ version of kindness could’ve been viewed to beings that’d long left humanity behind them. Beings Eion intimately understood for how he’d spent years amongst them. For how same they were when he looked well beyond the visual similarities.
Like a Senshi had their celestial body, foreign yet familiar because it was *theirs* down to the magical-marrow, Waru thought that Eion had the Rift. In a way of understanding, if not ownership. Made things that Waru would’ve called deeply complex seem so readably simple and everyday ordinary. It was impressive.
*He was impressed.*
By Eions love. His knowledge. His clever, warm hands paying tribute and dragging happily hitched sighs free with ease; like he knew how best to get it done.
“Do it—“ was it possible to be more content, in those brief moments, the sluggish slipping spans of time like wet sand through an infinities worth of hours — Waru didn’t think it was — thought he’d melt through Faustites kiln-warm fingertips, and become nothing more than a groaning puddle for how all his boys gentle efforts soothed.
He wanted Aelius to go. Yearned for that kind of mending, even if that one wasn’t made for the Rift. The Rift was a part of Faustite, so of course Helio should be shown around it.
“Aelius is smart, you can even scout the caves with him — make sure the walls don’t crawl alive — make sure we can set a perimeter that’ll keep ‘em from trappin us into the back after….” a slim smile and glee because it sounded so much like a ‘trust fall’ wrapped in mission packaging. N even better yet? A chance to reforge a bond Waru’d carelessly put a c***k into. He approved instantly. “S’freaky that it’s empty, but we’ll get it figured out. Knowing you?”
“There’ll end up being plans for the plans — which’s fine, cause m’excited to help you with this Firebrand. Course I love the place too…even if the way it works down there only half makes sense to me sometimes….I really do like it…..”
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Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2022 6:40 pm
"Mm… Better if I scout the caves myself." He trusted Heliodor, true, but there was a difference between trusting him and deliberately and negligibly putting him in direct danger. Even if there were no youma felt around the Scar, he still considered it poor form to bring Heliodor into those caves. They weren't sealed the way that building was; if youma came back, then Faustite would be hard-pressed to keep them off his boy. And even if Heliodor was sparing with his magic, what was to say however many uses he had was enough to ward off the nigh infinite youma that called the Rift home?
"He'll uncover something to take with us. Certain of that. Depending on what we learn, should be enough to get clearance for a mission. Have Jada sorting out the climbing part of it. Heliodor's helping with recon. Think I'll put Tama on tech, depending on what we find. Haymitch could get the other cats to earn their keep." Though —
Faustite's hands paused in their work as he leaned forward enough to make eye contact with the boy in his lap. "Think I can put you on recruitment? You're more charismatic than me." And Albite had the added benefit that, if people looked at him and saw how stupid he was, they'd want to protect him from certain death. And since Albite certainly couldn't be trusted in the Rift on his own, then they had to come to ensure he didn't get obliterated by the youma. The ones who didn't feel that way would attend just to watch it happen. And if Albite was helping to usher people into the ranks, then they should have no shortage of manpower.
He'd often envied that about his boy. In addition to his size, Waru had a likable quality about him that drew people to him without pause. Faustite had credited him with the cohesion of the team, an endeavor that he could not have managed on his own. Before he met the boy, he had but one subordinate, and he and Heliodor went their separate ways once the stress finally got to each of them.
Now they were together again, and it was Albite doing the translating for them. Keeping them off each other's throats. If that didn't enunciate the boy's charm, what did?
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2022 11:09 pm
Nodding, because Fasutite was probably right about that. He knew his boy could scout all day long, all night, and that the youma wouldn't so much as sniff at him if he went poking around what'd used to be theirs -- what was still theirs technically. Sure that it would fill up with 'em like a reservoir after the damn of that buildings aura blocking 'em all from pouring in gave out. Honestly for Albite? The after was always more worrying than everything that came before, to some degree, because there was never any real planning for that--
it was an enigma, an unknown, because who could say how the curtain fell? Whether they'd rid out in victory or defeat? Whether the Scar would collapse n swallow them whole. Waru realied it was better to simply leave the 'after' for when it came, rather than fretting over it now. He told himself he knew how to do that, to worry about one thing at a time.
Less things than before, actually. Since he was sure Helio would follow through, n do good at it. Sure as he was that they'd get all their ducks rowed up in neat little lines n be handed green checks for clearance all the way through.
Faustite was thorough about s**t like that.
The lazy smile as he tilted back into his boys still hands, letting earthen orbs meet molten-sunburst glow, it stretched, it was warm -- "Awwh, Ei -- that's sweet," and he nuzzled the careful claws he found himself nestled in. Empty as his head was, sometimes it felt heavy, which made it triply nice to have the strength of another to lean it on, "Of course you can. You know m'happy to help, however you need me. Hell, if slapping me atop a podium n having me bare it all to bring 'em in is gonna do it? How can I say no to that." A tease light as whipped cream laid atop all the well-baked joy he felt for such a simple compliment. He'd take Faustites faith in him, curl it up into a tight little bead of white-hot-hype.
That his beloved thought this was something he could do right!
"Heh, this's gonna be so good, t'think -- a buncha Senshi? Helping to save things in the Rift. S'how it should be."
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