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 Posted: Sat Aug 26, 2023 5:09 pm
Faustite was certain he'd broken them by now. Splitting pain, unable to straighten most of his fingers on his right hand, and the knuckles looked terribly swollen. Coupled with the numerous cuts and bruises, whether from tumbling over gravel or taking the odd hit from a bo staff, Faustite was looking steadily worse as the days progressed.
He had hoped that, with Cybele dead, this feeling would fade. But nothing seemed to banish it, regardless of his wins or the starseeds he remembered to snatch before they floated out of their husks. Something still reminded him that he was inadequate, that all the fights in Destiny City would not clear his worth lest he beat every last opposing senshi and knight to death, lest he strangle all the remaining Mauvians that did not answer to the Negaverse. But that was a hard task to win, especially when each scrap left him a little worse off than the last.
And medical was onto him, too; he was tired of being lectured or showered in false concern as they added heat resistant gauze pads, stitched him up or tried to set his injuries with metal. They were documenting it, undoubtedly, and eventually those wounds would make their way to the ears of the Queen.
He needed to ensure that didn't happen, so he stopped going to medical for treatment. Unfortunately, that didn't leave him with many options for first aid. Loath to drag his business outside of the team, there were but a few he would trust with first aid. There was Albite, of course, for how often that boy got himself injured, but Albite was preoccupied with Heliodor. He could say the same for Heliodor, though he didn't get himself injured nearly as often. Then there was Alkmene, but he had a feeling the boy would go looking for revenge as quietly as possible. A host of other teammates he didn't know as well or had no reason to trust came to mind afterward, so… Who was there?
He didn't know if Fafnir knew anything about first aid, but the boy could keep a secret. Faustite wagered that was more important than slapping bandages over bleeds, anyway.
When he reached the boy's office, thinking over their conversation from last time, he paused to knock, then paused before he knocked, because he very nearly made the poor decision of using his busted hand. Felt strange to use his left, but a few short raps on the door and the aura behind it should clue Fafnir in on who was dropping by unannounced.
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Posted: Mon Sep 11, 2023 8:00 pm
It was not unusual necessarily for Faustite to drop by Fafnir's new office, but it was still uncommon enough that questions quickly sprung to mind as he swung out of his chair and made his way to the door in a rustle of long cloth and longer hair. Calm, poised, fully prepared to welcome his general king in for a hard drink over some other idiot that had gotten him worked up, Fafnir was not prepared for what he found when he opened the door.
"Jesus ********..." The corrupt managed before he hastily stepped back, waving the shorter man inside. "What happened? Are you all right?"
He was here, rather than at the infirmary, so the injuries must not be too bad, right? Was this another task for him to find whomever had done this to him? The logic didn't stop him from feeling concern, though. What could do that kind of damage to a General King, their most powerful soldiers? Had Faustite run into another one of those senshi royals?
He hovered as he ushered Faustite towards one of the metal-backed seats, new additions to his pristine office, and tried not to look too much like a mother hen.
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Posted: Tue Sep 12, 2023 7:05 pm
"Fine," Faustite muttered, already feeling a little embarrassed for Fafnir's reaction. The boy was probably already thinking that he was terrible at combat, which wouldn't be wrong, but Faustite didn't like it implied so heavily like that. And if Fafnir judged him a poor combatant, then maybe the boy would do better to offer to train him, then. When Faustite regarded him (already bad enough that he had to look up), it was with a shade of resentment.
Entering the office assuaged some of his tangled feelings. That added layer of privacy let him relax a margin more, though his sore muscles complained for any such antics. He shuffled over to one of the chairs, considered it, then decided that sitting seemed like a bad idea. He preferred maundering around the office.
Besides, it was easier to stare at Fafnir's chest if Fafnir was also standing.
His attention nevertheless flitted about the room, eager to indulge his avoidance. "Just fights. A lot of fights." Enough fights that he had to stop using his fists. Enough fights that he kicked someone hard enough to break his own toenails inside of his shoes.
"Nurse on duty bugs the s**t out of me. Thought I'd see what you knew of first aid."
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Posted: Tue Oct 31, 2023 9:10 pm
Fafnir shoved the door closed and followed close on Faustite's heels, unable to keep himself from hovering over him.
"You're not fine... Let me see your hand." He demanded, forgetting for a moment the gap in their power levels. Faustite, who was the key to everything he had gained, the key to so much more to come, and his supporter besides, was hurt. That was unforgivable.
"Who did this? I hope you killed them, because if you didn't I will be sure to." Fafnir fussed as he tried to herd the half-youma towards the chairs he was avoiding, every meandering step ratcheting up his anxiety. "I honestly know only the barest of first aid, to my current frustration, but I will do the best I can... if you'll sit down. Please."
Did he have a first aid kit in the office? This was not usually the place he bandaged wounds, nor a place where injured people came, so there had never been a need. He had a kit elsewhere... but he'd have to go get it. It wasn't a surprise that Faustite had been fighting... he was always fighting, had always been fighting. He was an agent of the Negaverse, and now a General King besides. The wounds were something of a new thing, though... or at least, new to him personally. Why had Faustite come here, and not home to one of his husbands? Fafnir wasn't sure if he should feel smug about it, or concerned.
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Posted: Thu Nov 02, 2023 6:15 am
Flame rolled in his head when Fafnir corrected him. He was fine enough, he thought. He was alive, able to move, able to give commands. Maybe not able to punch someone at the moment, which was disappointing, but maybe summoning youma to devour a person's starseed would provide similar catharsis. It was something to think about if his hand didn't bounce back in a timely manner.
Fafnir did his best to urge Faustite toward the chair, and Faustite was happy to about-face to such requests and pace in a different direction until the boy finally asked. With a sigh, he committed to the chair. It took the weight off his legs, too, so that they might hurt a touch less. All that extra exercise, mixed with a touch of abuse, and his body complained so obstinately. Vaguely, it reminded him of Heliodor, but that thought was quickly dismissed while Fafnir kicked up a fuss.
"Of course he's dead," Faustite confirmed, almost offended that Fafnir thought he'd let someone escape. But his track record with eliminating the opposition wasn't perfect — it wasn't even good.
He decided to clarify. "Very dead. Probably didn't need to pulverize the body afterward." It felt good at the time, though.
With some hope, his hand wasn't broken. While he waited for Fafnir to calm his beautiful tits, Faustite played with spreading and straightening his fingers, though he found he could not splay them completely without shooting pain that had him wincing. Probably not broken, he decided. And if they were, well… Maybe lightly broken? Like he might be able to use them again inside of a week.
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Posted: Tue Nov 07, 2023 8:46 pm
A hint of a smile curled at the corner of Fafnir's mouth at the response he got. Once, he might have thought with disgust about the pulped messed Faustite likely left behind. Death as part of his duties had always bothered him, something to be avoided as much as possible. But there was something satisfying knowing at his General King had made sure to put a firm end to someone that had hurt him. Fafnir might not be able to do it for himself, but he could appreciate that ability in others, for the right cause.
Fafnir hovered as Faustite stretched and moved his fingers, hovering his own under that clawed hand to gently feel the way the bones moved and tendons stretched, ignoring the heat coming off his skin. Everything seemed to be moving normally, if stiffly. Hopefully that meant nothing was broken and would heal relatively quickly. He wasn't entirely sure how quickly the half-youma healed. He was missing an entire center portion of his body and lived with fire literally inside of him, there wasn't much Fafnir could discount as beyond his physical abilities.
"Give me a moment." He murmured before he disappeared, teleporting to the place in his home where he kept his own medical supplies, such as they were. He was back in a flicker, the kit set down on the edge of his desk and the case flipped open. Inside were a myriad of gauzes and bandages, creams and things for wounds. Selecting one of the packets, he squeezed and shook it out, activating the chemical reaction that made it turn icy in his hand.
"Do you have your cincher? An ice pack isn't going to do much for you otherwise." He said as he sorted out some elastic wrap. "What happened to make someone worth turning to mulch?"
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Posted: Sun Nov 12, 2023 6:22 pm
While Faustite allowed Fafnir to mess around with his injured hand, he soon regretted it. As Fafnir manipulated some of the digits, Faustite winced with certain spikes of pain that begged him to retract his hand from the boy. Were he any less cute, Faustite may have done just that. It wouldn't have been the first time; he often withdrew his consent to any poking and prodding by the medical staff, particularly when it was one of the female nurses on duty.
Before he could respond to Fafnir, he was gone, and Faustite huffed out the breath he was going to use for a response. He wasn't gone long, however, and Faustite was soon face-to-face with him again. He almost smiled, but something inside of him fell short. He couldn't say what it was.
The question gave him pause. "Yes, but —" He summoned the boned thing from the ether, let it lay wilted across the palm of his less injured hand. Faustite was quick to flop it onto Fafnir's desk before it grew uncomfortably warm. The thing never reached burning temperatures, certainly not while it was on him, but Faustite did not know how it fared if he just held the cincher in his hands. He did not want to try it and find out that he accidentally burnt a boy who trusted him — even if all of the evidence pointed to Fafnir being fine afterward. He might try it on Hestia, though.
"Going to need you to put it on me. Can't fasten it with my hand busted." He could raise his hands, though, keep his elbows out of the way for it. Fafnir would only have to endure so much uncomfortable flame.
That last question — Faustite wasn't sure how he should feel about it. Angry that Fafnir should pry? Ashamed that he lost his temper? Proud that he reduced an enemy to only his barest components? Faustite fell quiet for a time as he mulled over his answer.
"Kept insisting that I wasn't a threat. That the Negaverse was a laughingstock if they promoted me. That I'm young and foolish, reckless, predictable. That a hundred other officers deserved a promotion before I did.
"Didn't like that he could be right."
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Posted: Sun Nov 19, 2023 6:32 pm
Fafnir set aside the ice pack to let the chemicals fully activate, moving instead for the cincher Faustite produced. His dark eyebrows rose at the explanation of what started the fight, his expression twitching a little.
"I think he got what he deserved then." He said as he knelt down before the other man. "He couldn't have been very intelligent, provoking a General King, so you did the world and our genetic pool a service." Careful of the flames and heat radiating off him, he passed the cincher around the back and began to work the closures down the front. That heat faded as the metal grating was smothered in cloth, damping down to something much safer for Fafnir to handle. He still had some doubts about how well the ice pack was going to work, but he kept those concerns private. There was only so much he could do for Faustite with his severely limited medical knowledge, but he was damn well going to do what he could. Faustite had come here instead of to the infirmary for a reason.
"Here." Fafnir said as he handed Faustite the ice pack, gently guiding his injured hand to lay against the cold. "Hopefully we can dull some of the pain down... all I have to offer for meds are the over the counter kind, and I don't wonder if your metabolism might just blow through them like nothing."
Still on the floor, he rested his hands on Faustite's knees.
"Metallia wanted you promoted. The Queen supported it. Your whole team is ecstatic over it. And making you doubt yourself for even an instant was exactly what he wanted, I'm sure. It was the only way he could hope to stand against you."
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Posted: Mon Nov 20, 2023 5:44 am
At least Fafnir agreed that Faustite took the right course of action. Faustite could live with that, even if his hands didn't want to, and Faustite felt like he needed to punch through a few more brick walls to calm down entirely.
The ice pack gave him a twinge of pain before the cold began to seep in. It was easier to try to ice an extremity than his trunk, and the chemical cool stood up to his heat better than conventional ice. Faustite was simply grateful to not have to feel his aches and pains in that hand, if only for a moment.
"Maybe," he replied, considering the medications. Would they work on him? Faustite didn't know. Neither did anyone else, though. "Doesn't stop the infirmary staff from pushing them on me." Sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn't. Faustite didn't understand the differences between the medications, and neither did most of the staff. It wasn't like there was a drug expert there to tell them why one would work and another wouldn't, so Faustite often felt like he was the subject of an experiment or an inappropriate joke. At least here, Fafnir was more respectful about it, rather than treating him like a body full of damaged meat.
Faustite's attention shifted when he felt hands on his knees, and Faustite was greeted by the very acceptable sight of a boy kneeling down for him. His immediate thoughts were a delirious little rush of romance, misplaced in the context of injury, but there nonetheless, reminding him that he hadn't married a delightfully pretty boy lately. The last one was —
No, he would not be having that thought right now.
"It wasn't even him," Faustite admitted with a sigh. "His opinion doesn't ******** matter, so I don't get why it was striking such a chord. Always had this stupid sense of 'not good enough' and it's gotten worse with every rank. If I ever had to take up a role like the Queen's, I'd be positively melting the world down. Rather be internalizing how the team and the Queen feel about it instead, but I don't get why I can't."
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Posted: Sat Dec 30, 2023 10:52 am
"Maybe it was just that he was echoing your own thoughts. And unlike your thoughts, you could actually do something about it."
He didn't mention the part where he thought maybe Faustite didn't actually fully believe his worries, but hearing them said by someone else sparked anger and fear that they might be true. Fafnir felt his General King needed reassurance and support, not having his fears pointed out to him. Perhaps, for someone else, hearing of his superior's weaknesses would be a danger... signs that the superior was not fit for his position and ripe to be ripped down. But Fafnir? Signs of weakness in Faustite were... comforting, in a way. They meant Faustite was not so entirely beyond his reach now. If needed, those weaknesses were strings he could tug. Strings that could bind them together. He could use them. And, really, they gave some much needed humanity to a man who had already lost so much of it to the fire demon in his gut.
Fafnir set those thoughts aside carefully, tucking them away somewhere private just for him.
"If it helps, this doesn't sound like something uncommon. They have a whole term for it. I don't have good answers on how to deal with it, but I want to reassure you, again, that I am very pleased you were promoted. I think there is great potential in you to truly fill your role. Maybe its just that you need to... let yourself fill it. You only answer to the Queen and Metallia, now. You can do, and be, whatever you want." He said as he reached for his first aid kit, digging in it before producing a small white bottle. Hands on Faustite's knees, he twisted the cap open and offered the little white pills to him. "Maybe you just need to consider what sort of a General King you want to be. What role suits you the best. They covered the basics with the General Sovereigns they pulled in from other divisions. That leaves you the freedom to go further, to do something else. And I will be there to support your endeavors, of course."
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Posted: Tue Jan 16, 2024 5:33 am
There really was no balm better than a cute boy telling him he did good. And it was such a basic thing, maddeningly simple, that brightened his day. That sent him from being a burning wreck of turmoil and frustration to dumb elation. Faustite somewhat hated himself for this quality, but his distaste for it hadn't banished it yet.
And in truth, Faustite didn't know how he would have made it this far if he didn't have those moments of vapid happiness from simply being around boys who thought well of him. The only problem with Fafnir was that, per Heliodor's wishes, he couldn't have both the brothers. Fafnir was something of a carrot, always dangled in the distance, motivating until Faustite's baser instincts finally understood that this one was unattainable. But, lucky for him, they weren't there yet.
And Fafnir's outfit had a staggeringly deep neckline that left little to the imagination. In times like these, when a boy was leaning over and handing him pills, he quite liked not needing any imagination.
He'd forgotten to ask what they were supposed to do before absently popping them into his mouth. Burnt medicine was ever a terrible taste, but he swallowed as fast as he could. While he knew he didn't have anything to fear from Fafnir, it would have been better if he was more vigilant. Or, perhaps, these worries and admonishments were illustrative of Fafnir's point.
Faustite forced himself to let go of a breath. He did not have to answer to his peers, though it was his instinct to do so. They weren't his bosses. Generals and Eternals were subordinate to him now, and the Queen and Metallia seldom made appearances to demand anything of him. Of the pair, he'd only ever interacted with the Queen, and he could count his visits with her as a General on one hand. Metallia he'd yet to speak with, or even see, but proof of her existence was everywhere. Really, he had but one boss to please, and she hadn't said anything about performance issues yet.
As he stewed on it, Faustite didn't think he could be nice like Axinite, or hopeful like Jet. He didn't think he could be as strict with his work shifts and his time off like Hessonite. He wasn't money-minded or personable like Lepidolite. He wanted to be effective, though. And he looked like a ******** demon. If he put the fear of hell into recruits new and old, would that be any different from Schörl? Would he have to be a poor copy of the other General-Sovereigns just to get away from being her?
Or was it his fate to lean into that?
Feeling suddenly dizzy, Faustite responded to Fafnir without thinking too much about it. "Guess I need to see what's untouched by the four and claim that for myself." Though, what was untouched was largely cruelty. The stick left abandoned on the rack while the others made good use of the carrot. "Thanks, Fafnir. For this, and for keeping it quiet. For being there, for me, unquestioningly."
It might have been loyalty to a fault, but it was loyalty that he needed.whimsical blue we can call this a close?
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