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 Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2011 2:02 am
Tanzanite smile softly, picking up on his whisper in the dead silence of the clearing. It took far more than words to hut her feelings. Or... lack thereof. Never could two officers of the Negaverse be so different as Tanzanite and Serandite were. It had been that way since they had been Lieutenants. Since they had raided the halls of Crystal Academy searching for clues to a mystery they would eventually learn was far darker and more terrifying than either of them could have imagines.
Those last, lingering days of their childhood had long since passed, lost in the shadows of the task they had taken on the moment they allowed themselves to become corrupted. Their corruptions had spread differently, but one thing they still shared; loyalty. To their cause and to their planet, and it was that bond which made Tanzanite look upon the pink-haired General with something she rarely showed.
Trust.
That trust prompted Tanzanite to move forward. If Serandite thought the boy a suitable recruit, then she would not argue. A thought brought her behind him in a swift teleport, that human hand slipping through his back and into his chest with ease. She had done this countless times now. Tanzanite had long since lost track of how many lives she had either corrupted or simply ended with that simple motion. Yet somehow, it was always... different. Always slightly remarkable to feel that fragile, pure life fluttering beneath her fingertips.
“Don't worry,” she murmured softly. Those black claws gently traced the side of his face, the teeth in her palm grinding together in excitement for a kill that would not comes, “I'm afraid that process would quite certainly kill you. This one, however...”
Tanzanite let the words fade into the open air. She did not need to explain what that process would feel like, as Johnny would experience it for himself that night. Tanzanite drew on the power of the Negaverse, on the chaotic energy that fueled them, and it crashed in on the boys fragile starseed like a landslide of white hot pain.
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Posted: Mon Jul 18, 2011 6:46 pm
All thoughts of any kind flew straight out the window the moment Johnathan Miller felt a hand pierce the very fiber of his being. Even in his wildest imagination, his mind could not have come up with something this terrifying. The boy's vision swam in a sea of searing pain and his spine arched backwards where he could feel Tanzanite on the peripheral portions of his psyche. Most, if not all, of his senses were purely fixated on the mind-shattering pain he was experiencing. The boy felt his arms and legs were melting in lava and his ribcage was home to the crown of thorns, twisting and piercing ever part of his being with razors. Shreds of himself flew before his eyes, and whether or not this was a pain-induced hallucination was anyone's guess. Even Johnny didn't know what he was seeing.
Tears slid down his face, but he could not see. The boy's eyes rolled back into his head and his mouth twisted into a wordless scream as the pain intensified, pure chaos being pumped without end into his fragile starseed - a process he had allowed. His body made no noise at all - the only thing that could be heard was the slight gasping for breath and the sound of one life ending. His fingers gnarled into claws and fused there, paralyzed from the process until Tanzanite was merciful enough to let him go.
Once the process was finally finished (it felt like years of unending pain to the corruption recipient), Johnny slipped from her grip and fell over, eyes glazed and sluggish. The only sounds his body would hesitate to make were those of rasping or wheezing. He didn't have the strength yet to stand or even turn over, instead staring into endless space only he could see. The tears were starting to dry then and the cold breeze ruffled what hair wasn't stuck to his face from sweat. His body hummed and pulsed with the unholy light that was forced into it. It would take some time for him to recover, but some strange force made him feel stronger somehow.
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Posted: Thu Jul 21, 2011 2:05 am
The pain of corruption .. The sound and feeling of every fiber within your body, rejecting yet absorbing every single particle of corruption until your being could scream no more. It wasn't even the kind of pain that you could bring yourself to scream from, that in itself, described the infinite feeling of corruption. Yet the powers of corruption, dark threads winding themselves around your very soul was just as addicting as it was repulsive to the being. Eventually, like all, the rush subsided. You figured, a combination of human plus darkness produced remarkably similar results. But humans varied .. and so did lieutenants.
The scene was started as abruptly as it was finished. Bent over the new lieutenant, brown eyes stared downwards at the male collapsed amongst the ground, .. She couldn't help but give a whistle through a small movement of her lips, clapping her hands, presumably in response to General Queen Tanzanite's fine work.
Now .. to get started.
"I'll take care of him." She stated to the General Queen, her hands slowly halting to rest a firm hand on his shoulder. Was this the kind of pride that Tanzanite felt, in recruiting their members? This sort of satisfaction in knowing that you chose them. If they accomplished past your expectations, that only made your satisfaction soar. But if they turned out to be a disappointment .. Well, Serandite was starting to see how General King Charonite might have felt about their failures. Especially about Kunzite--being forced to report a failure was just multiplying that dissatisfaction.
It was a equally hevay risk to being lieutenant and General.
Her next line was soft, her fingers brushing a lock of blue hair from his sweat-soaked forehead. The male looked like he had gone through hell, physically and mentally. But it was only the first level. He had officially joined in the fight for justice.
".. Welcome to the negaverse, Lieutenant Bazzite."
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Posted: Thu Jul 21, 2011 8:40 pm
A cough, wheeze and a shudder all wracked his body then. The sensation of someone not trying to kill him or pump him full of inky darkness was wholly unexpected. The soft and gentle movement of fingers over his skin gave Johnny the shivers. Cracking open his eyes after several moments of hesitation, he could make out the blurry form of Kimono Lady swimming through his vision. She bobbed and weaved back and forth through a thick cloud of haze, and the boy had to fight to focus on her and keep from falling back into the recesses of oblivion. He struggled to sit up and struggled even more to form a half-coherent sentence through the mashed potato that his brain had become. Purplezilla sure did a number on him - one he wasn't going to forget.
"Ladyyyyy..." he lulled, head swimming in a sea of throbbing pain and tilting equilibrium. Johnny, or Bazzite as he was now known, looked drunk. Plain and simple. Drunk off his a** on something incredibly potent. His eyes rolled back in his head and the newly-indoctrinated lieutenant slumped over and gurgled for a bit. Once he was able to right himself again, he managed to sit up with legs sprawled in every direction. Breathing was becoming less labored by the moment, but his vision still swirled.
It looked like the boy was preparing for something important, for his body had tensed like a runner getting ready to start a race. Soon enough, Bazzite bolted upright and latched onto the general's shoulders. His grip was firm but gentle, hopefully not causing any pain to the recipient of his gestures. The bluenette looked deep, deep into Serandite's eyes (or his rough approximation thereof given his horrible vision at the moment), and looked like he was about to say something incredibly important. Something about how pure chaos made him feel, how he was happy to serve beneath her if that's what she wished, or his will to stop the terrorists from taking over the earth.
Instead, he uttered something along the lines of, 'Blrrhfhdkhjhhhhhhfffffffff...." and slumped over on top of her.
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