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 Posted: Tue Nov 17, 2015 12:13 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 12, 2018 12:21 pm
SOLO: Glad That's Over Prompt:Quote: The holidays are close to ending and it’s time to start packing away your decorations. In a stroke of bad luck, you drop an ornament (or other small bauble) and it shatters. Inside was a strange, glistening dust that you accidentally inhale. You are immediately met with a strong hallucination of a previous holiday memory. It only lasts for a few moments, but it feels like you are back in the memory, reliving it. It seems so real but when it ends, you are back in the present with no trace of the dust left in sight. Which holiday memory did you relive, and how do you react to being torn from it? Saleh was relieved that the holidays were coming to a close. It felt like all the pressure had finally come off, somehow. He had put up a few ornaments in his dorm room, some that he’d brought from home, others that he’d made at some winter festival event at DCU. The handmade ornaments were those glass orb ones that you put pipe cleaners in and other fun things, so while they were charming, they were fragile. While taking one down for closer inspection, he inadvertently dropped it, and it shattered between his bed and the window. Cursing, he looked down, only to get a faceful of some strange dust. He hacked, coughed, and sputtered, trying to remember if he had put any glitter in that ornament. When he looked up, the scene was very different. He saw his mother opening a gift from him and his father (mostly from his father, but his father had made sure he knew that the gift was supposed to be from him too). There was something mercenary and shrewd in her look, the kind of look she got when she wanted something and expected to get it. “Oh, this is…” She was smiling. However, a moment later, Saleh realized what was going to happen. He remembered this Christmas. “No,” he said softly, raising his hand. “Mom, no!” The little grin faded from her face. “Where’s the card?” She asked. She hadn’t heard him. “Mom, there…” All the hurt and indignation from his mother’s treatment of him welled up suddenly. “There is no card! I didn’t think you needed one! I thought the gift was enough! So did Dad!” The scene played out just as he remembered it. Her face wrinkled in some mixture of disgust, rage, and simulated hurt. “Why isn’t there a card?!” she cried, her voice pitching up in some indignant squeal. Mercifully, the scene vanished at that moment, as quickly as it had appeared. At that moment, Saleh realized that he was breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest. Gritting his teeth, he fell back on his bed, trying to stuff down the feelings swirling inside of him. His mother was a shrewish, selfish woman, who demanded tribute like some kind of goddess. If even one item was missing from her requests, there was some sort of punishment on the other side, or at least a hefty dose of guilt. Saleh had been young at the time. He had cried and cried and apologized profusely as his mother gave him the cold shoulder. His father had given him a hug later and said that they would get her a card and she would be happy again. It satisfied him at the time. Now, however, Saleh was aware of the fog of terror and guilt that his mother kept his family in. His father had gotten wise a bit sooner, leading to the divorce and taking Saleh with him (a decision that Saleh had supported). Looking back on the experience gave him rare feelings of bitterness, hence his reactions to the memory. He did feel angry at his mother, but he also felt glad that he was out of her hands. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. It was over. He wasn’t speaking to her, no matter how hard she tried to weasel back into his life. There would be no more holidays spent worrying about what the next big tantrum would be over. He tried to tell himself that it was over, but his body wouldn’t stop reacting in anxiety. It would be a good hour until he cooled down enough to sweep up the broken ornament and go about his business.
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Posted: Thu Jul 12, 2018 12:22 pm
SOLO: Measuring It Out Paracelsian tended to constantly update his mindset in a way that rode the border between adaptable and wishy washy. He was so sure that he wanted to get out of the Negaverse, to purify and be free of the supposed murder machine that was the Negaverse. As much as his encounter with Natron had unnerved him, and as appealing as Camelot’s mentions were, his encounter with Hypatia had struck a new idea into him. He could plant the seeds of reform from within the Negaverse. Sure, he wouldn’t be able to convince the higher ups that their dogma was wrong, but if he became responsible for Lieutenants, he could tell them to tone down the murder and save it for actual threats. He would spread this message among his Lieutenants, who would someday spread it to their own underlings if they had any, so on and so forth. A kinder, gentler Negaverse probably wasn’t possible, but a more reasonable one might be. A Negaverse that evaluated its options better and worked towards a type of coexistence could be workable. He knew that repelling senshi and Knights was a vital part of Negaverse doctrine, but if they could be subdued in a way that allowed them to go about their business, wouldn’t that be beneficial for everyone? A focus on preservation could be interesting. Sure, the Negaverse still needed to drain energy to sustain itself, but was that really that bad? Food and rest brought people back to normal after a draining, at least in his experience. Some people were even willing to donate if asked politely. There could be side effects, but if someone got drained that much to trigger them, the Negaverse needed to change their priorities. That didn’t even happen now; why would it happen after some reform? Still, would such a facelift even be worth the effort and care needed to sustain it? There was a thin line here between making the Negaverse more reasonable and straight-up being a subversive element. If he was perceived as being too far out of line, he would be punished. That was very clear. If he left the Negaverse, he could leave everything behind and not have to worry about the organization’s fate. But that would change nothing. The Negaverse would probably be even more eager to kill him in his new life than in his old one. New life was a tricky matter. Paracelsian had heard that purification came at the cost of memories. Even if he had attempt to distance himself from his family to prepare them for his “disappearance,” even if he didn’t particularly care about his mother’s lingering emotional wounds anymore, he was unsure if he wanted to risk losing that much of himself. The idea of giving up one’s entire identity in the name of freedom sounded self-defeating. Only someone truly desperate would do such a thing. Was he that desperate to avoid run-ins with his higher-ups, or to avoid having to pull a starseed? He didn’t think so. He was beginning to understand that sacrifices were necessary for progress. Though the mental image of Natron standing over the dead senshi, starseed in hand, still sent a shudder through him, it also emboldened him to move forward with his plan. Perhaps, with his guidance, new Lieutenants could thrive in the Negaverse without having to rip starseeds like crazy, and without thinking of souls as bargaining chips like that one Lieutenant who got stuck with the big youma (Lime?). Certain people, regardless of alignment, merited protection. Hypatia and her healing abilities, Nix and his general affable tendencies… they weren’t threats. They should be allowed to express their powers and identities freely, within reason. And dear little Echo! She was such a sweetheart. If he purified and forgot her, that would be heartbreaking. Surely he could still meet up with her and not have to sacrifice who he was? Sure, he’d never be able to meet her outside of official powered business, but fate had a funny way of shoving people together without them realizing it. The ones that were threats, though… measures had to be taken. Measures to defend the vulnerable, assess the danger level, and act accordingly. Defending his own would still be the priority, but some people simply couldn’t be stopped without force. He could see evidence of that on both sides of the war. He could let the dangerous ones kill each other, but if his goal was preservation, then he couldn't exactly have the top brass die off. He had to play his cards very carefully to execute this plan without problems. This strategy was high-risk, high-reward. If everything went well, everyone would benefit from it. If it didn’t, well, he’d definitely be killed, and his underlings might very well be too. Would the risk of erasure be worse or better than if he purified? He wasn’t so sure he wanted to find out. Either way, there’d be some form of death. That might be an out if things got truly desperate, but only if things went that way. Would Camelot be able to purify him and an entire squad of new Negaverse agents that would need to be spared from death? Probably not, though he didn’t know the ins and outs of purification that thoroughly. It would make sense that not everyone could be saved, particularly if there was a large amount of people that needed to make a break for it. There were a lot of options and Plan Bs and sub-plans to measure out, but for now, Paracelsian felt his path was clear: do his best to make it to Captain and begin fostering a new generation of Negaverse agents. It wouldn’t be an easy road by any means, but with effort and care, everyone would benefit. That was going to end up being a mantra of his: everyone would benefit. It would all be worth it, or so god help him. Right now, it was time to hit the streets. He couldn’t put things into motion as a Lieutenant, and so he needed to start making moves and proving himself. If the higher-ups didn’t notice him now, they never would.
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Posted: Tue Jul 17, 2018 8:04 pm
SOLO: Too Quiet It was days like these where Paracelsian realized that things could indeed be too quiet. He’d been meeting his quotas with relative ease, and he hadn’t bumped into too many senshi for a week or so. Something was going to happen soon, somewhere. He kept his eyes and ears open for any whispers at all. Tonight, as he surveyed what he could of the city from a rooftop, he thought he felt a small point of light in the distance. At the very least, he should investigate it; perhaps there’d be a harmless senshi on the other side that he could make note of and then move on from. More likely, there’d be a tussle of some sort, but he was starting to think he had some contingency plans for when that happened. At this point, really, it would be silly to not expect some form of objection. Kari and Echo had been exceptions, not the rule. At the very least, senshi should be expected to know that a Negaverse aura meant bad news. As he made his way towards the senshi aura, he became aware that it seemed to be approaching him in turn. He was keeping a leisurely pace because he didn’t want to seem like he was on the hunt, so to speak, but this aura was coming at him quite fast. Furthermore, as the aura sped towards him, he also became aware that it was much bigger than he had originally thought. There was at least a Super senshi on the other end. Yes, it had to be a Super. He didn’t want to know what was going to hit him if that was actually an Eternal on the other side. He was going to be outranked, and while he had encountered Super Senshi before, something was worrying about the rate at which this aura was advancing on him. Very, very worrying. Was it getting faster? Paracelsian felt the senshi before he saw her. Or rather, he felt the effects of her power: for a few good seconds, his body was filled with intense pain, like the worst migraine he’d ever had, plus five, and all over his body. It was enough to make him clutch his head and stagger, trying hard not to just fall to his knees in agony. Groaning, he tried to push through the pain to figure out where the senshi was coming from, and just as the pain impulses seemed to turn off, something hit him in the chest and knocked him right on his back. Wheezing, he looked into into the blood red eyes of the Super Senshi that had been targeting him, and tried to think quickly of something to say to smooth things over. He didn’t get far before he received a kick to his side that nearly rolled him over. Super rank senshi were supposed to be strong, but this felt excessive. Was she buffed, or something? Or was he just really not expecting to get hurt? Another blow came to his other side, turning him back onto his back. He coughed and sputtered, trying to regain his breath and his senses. A heeled boot came to rest on his chest, and some pressure was applied to keep him in place. “Just a lieutenant?” A nasally female voice snarled. “Didn’t expect much, wasn’t disappointed.” Paracelsian’s mind was reeling from all the sudden shocks to his system. All he managed to do was sputter out a half-croaked “Name?” when he was able to get a breath in edgewise. “My name? Hah.” The senshi increased the pressure of her boot on Paracelsian’s chest. “Bezel. Not that it’ll matter. You won’t live to tell anyone about it.” Bezel twisted her foot, grinding the heel into his chest again. “I sure do wish I could reach into your chest and rip your heart out, just like you do to us.” “Wh… why?” Paracelsian wheezed. We don’t rip out hearts. Only souls. Did that make it better, though? Less gory, sure, but the end result was the same. “Are you kidding me?” Bezel bent down, putting her face intimidatingly close to his. Her foot shifted, and she dropped a knee into his stomach to accommodate the positioning, which only forced the air out of him all over again. “Every Negaverse agent is a threat. Even the most pitiful lieutenant, like you, has the ability to reach into the chest of anyone they want and rip out their soul. And it’s never given back once it’s taken.” It was true. It was all true. Starseeds were typically taken and kept as emergency “pills” for higher-ranking agents. They were often stashed away, their bodies long gone. The souls would never again provide life, whether it was to a senshi, to a Knight, or even to a civilian. If they were carelessly kept, they might seem to “expire,” the light fading from them and their surface crumbling, and Paracelsian wasn’t sure if that meant that the spark of life was officially gone forever, or if it had simply returned to the plane from whence it came. He did understand, however, that the quickest way to erase an entity from existence was to eat or crush the starseed that contained its spark, or data, or energy, or whatever it was inside a starseed that gave Negaverse agents power. No member of Order could do such a thing. Paracelsian was torn between regretting his decision to remain in the Negaverse and embracing it. Perhaps, if he had decided to leave, he would have dodged this near-death experience, and he would not have to face the awful truth of a person’s soul directly. Still… Still, he remembered his plan. Casualties would someday be minimized, and there would come a day when senshi didn’t have to fear for their very existences, and Negaverse agents could go about their business. Perhaps it could be called coexistence. Nonetheless, he and his group would encounter senshi along the way that could not be reasoned with. These were the ones that would require force. These were the ones that would require the ultimate tool in a Negaverse agent’s arsenal. But could he do such a thing, knowing what he knew? That it was highly likely that there would never again be another Sailor Bezel if he reached forward? The choice was about to be made for him. Bezel shifted her weight, bringing it to bear on top of Paracelsian’s body. Her hands came down on his neck, and she squeezed. As if he hadn’t been enough deprived of air, she was putting all her effort into strangling him. It was literally do or die time. If he lost consciousness, he would be the one gone forever. His goal was preservation. That included the self. Straining himself to the utmost limits of his consciousness, fighting against the spots forming in front of his eyes, Paracelsian reached up, pulling along Bezel’s occupied arms to bring himself closer to the vital point of a senshi’s chest. With one last burst of strength, he flung his hand forward. His hand slipped into somewhere, closed around something, and fell out of that somewhere. There was a short, sharp shriek as the senshi realized that she had been thwarted, and then nothingness. Paracelsian hacked and coughed and wheezed as the air rushed back to him, his first decent breaths in what felt like hours. He was guided almost entirely by reflex and a desire to escape; he shoved the lifeless senshi’s body off him and scooted backwards, sucking in air frantically. He pulled his hand close, and slowly unfurled his fingers to reveal the shining crystal within: a starseed, pulsing red like the eyes of the body it had once granted life to. He looked past the starseed to the downed Super Sailor Bezel. Even if her death had been quick, it had not been pleasant or expected. She had died with her eyes open, her mouth hanging in a forever silenced scream. Those eyes, widened, glazed over with death, endlessly accusatory in their emptiness, were what struck the most fear of all into Lieutenant Paracelsian. It was as if she was still there, condemning him for his existence as a Negaverse agent, aiming to kill him before he could go on to kill any others. But she didn’t pay any attention to herself. If she had…He didn’t want to think about the alternative outcomes. What was done had been done. In fact, at this moment, the act need not have been that final. He could very easily prove her wrong, and hold her starseed to her chest and return it to her body. Couldn’t he? A sudden cough wracked him, and his hands closed around the starseed again. His sides ached incredibly, more than they had even at the moments of impact. It all hurt, from his bruised body to his mind that felt like it was on fire. His motive was preservation. He could not forget that. Anyone who sought to harm him and his was an enemy if they could not be reasoned with. If he made the mistake of giving Bezel her life back, she would use the opportunity to end his all over again. So this was how Lieutenant Paracelsian would pull his first starseed. Shuddering, trying to avoid that damning lack of gaze, he pulled himself up. His hand went to the pocket his post-its were in, and he pulled them out. What was he going to do? He thought about writing an apology and leaving it on the body, but there was no point in that anymore. Instead, he wrote “Super Sailor Bezel” on the note, attached it to the starseed, and tucked it into subspace. Perhaps this would be his ticket to the power he needed to avert catastrophe. Sailor Bezel died so that someday, the Negaverse would learn to use reason in dealing with the forces of Order. He would not forget her sacrifice, and he would make sure that those he brought under his wing wouldn’t forget it, either. [3x solo bonus.]
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Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2021 12:09 pm
SOLO: Your Motives Paracelsian knocked on the door of a storeroom turned improvised apartment in a warehouse on the edge of the city. As predicted, he received no response, but he knew full well who was in there. The senshi aura said it all. After knocking, he entered. Cor Caroli was splayed out on the air mattress in the room, staring at the ceiling. Upon hearing Paracelsian enter, he pulled himself to sitting and gave a lazy wave. “So, did you make up your mind yet?” The inquiry lacked context for Paracelsian. “What do you mean?” “I keep wondering when my execution day’s going to be. When all this started, I was sure I’d be dead or corrupted within a week. It’s been more than that and I’m still here,” Cor said with a shrug. Paracelsian scratched his chin over his scarf. “Yes, that’s true. I am still securing permissions for your conversion.” “Conversion? Right, whatever.” Cor looked down and pretended to be preoccupied with a spot on his blanket. “I feel like your boss man or lady or whoever would be happy to just grab a senshi and go from there. You know what I think?” A beat passed. “I think you’re stalling for time. Either you can’t decide what you really want or you need to wait for something else before you can put your plan in action.” Somehow, the senshi hit the nail on the head. “You’re not wrong,” the Captain said with a sigh. “I have some decisions to make. Whatever action I take needs to be the culmination of everything. Absolutely everything.” “Everything meaning what?” Cor asked. “Everything in your Negaverse career? Your life? Sounds to me like you’ve got two different outcomes if you look at it from each way.” “What do you mean by that?” Paracelsian’s tone sharpened as he asked for clarification for what he thought was the umpteenth time. “Stop being cryptic.” “I get the feeling that maybe you’re not as committed to this Negaverse thing as you say you are,” Cor said. “I’ve heard about your plan to help or make everyone coexist. I wish I could say I believed you could make it happen, but I don’t. There’s too much that’s wrong for one person, even one General or General-to-be, to fix. The fact that you’re starting to build up a body count in your quest to gain influence should be telling you that.” This time Paracelsian’s expression visibly soured. “There is no ‘body count.’ Only one senshi ever met their end at my hands.” “Yeah, and if you’d quit stewing and make up your mind, I’d theoretically make that count two. Actually, what are you even saying? One is a number. One dead senshi is still a body count.” Cor had tried to act blase about his situation, but the way in which Paracelsian was denying the obvious was beginning to grate. Paracelsian sighed, shaking his head. “Yes, you are right. I knew that my path would not be without sacrifice. Those who died or will die will not die in vain.” “I’m not saying that progress doesn’t take sacrifice, but when that sacrifice is killing people, doesn’t that make you think twice at all? Does it make you even blink a little?” “You’re being annoying to someone who can, in fact, decide to kill you instead have you corrupted,” Paracelsian growled, the internal friction rubbing too hard and making a spark of anger. The words seemed to fall or shoot out of his mouth, and a tense moment passed as he realized what he had just said. “I…” For some reason, an apology did not feel forthcoming. “I won’t kill you,” he said instead. Cor simply rolled his eyes and put his chin in his hand. “What difference does it make at this point? Just hurry up and do it and quit letting me sit around like this.” “You’re being impossible,” Paracelsian muttered, shaking his head again. “Thanks to your needling, I’ve forgotten what I was even stopping by for.” And at that moment, it came to him. “Oh. Right. One of the things was to inform you that it’s almost the new year, so… happy new year.” A half-stifled chuckle slipped out of Cor. “Pff, gee, thanks. Bring me a party popper or one of those noisemakers or something so I can celebrate when I think it’s midnight.” “I might. Or maybe some champagne. A last drink wouldn’t hurt.” Paracelsian shrugged and turned to leave. “Now, what should I get…” “If you show up here drunk as hell and lamenting your life choices, I’ll find a way to get it on camera,” Cor quipped as the Captain left. Paracelsian was starting to get the feeling that Cor was going to drive him to drink today. [Word count: ~795]
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Posted: Tue Jan 12, 2021 7:40 pm
SOLO: A Fool Saleh was completely ready to go to bed that night. He hadn’t even done any patrolling that night; he was just egregiously tired from work and thoughts and life and bills and a million dumb little things that regular life happened to place in front of him. No room for Negaverse duty tonight, just bills and work and needing a nap. And by nap he meant sleep. He was just about to let the sweet randomness of dreams take him when he thought he saw something move. His eyes slammed open and he sat bolt upright, only to metaphorically lock eyes with a pure dark specter. At that moment, a wave of physical and mental dread spread over him, distinctly causing the heart-dropping-into-stomach feeling and evoking a sense of what could only be called horror. Something was wrong, everything was wrong, and he was definitely wrong. He grasped for a moment that his whole premise was ridiculous. His dream of coexistence was a farce at best. Cor Caroli was right about one thing: one body was still a body count. Bezel had died to push him to Captain, and he was hoping that Cor Caroli would be corrupted to push him to General, but what if that wasn’t enough? What if a senshi was exchanged for no change at all? The Negaverse had taken its time in promoting him to Captain, and who was to say it wouldn’t do so to promote him to General? Or, worse yet, would they take his offering of a senshi corruption and just leave him there forever? He’d done his best to appear on the straight and narrow to everyone in the Negaverse. The people who knew of his plan were White Moon senshi and Knights who weren’t likely to blab about him to other Negaverse agents. All they had done was whine about the “parasite overlord” at the top of the Negaverse food chain and how the Negaverse’s methods were impossible to redeem or justify. That was true, he knew it was, but he kept believing this whole time that he could change it from the inside out. It looked to him like some of the new Lieutenants were good folks that might be able to make use of his teachings. How long was it till their actual Generals got to them and “corrected” their meandering tendencies? Nambulite was probably a lost cause, what with his penchant for grabbing every shiny bauble he could and going for the starseed every once in a while as well, but Cafetite was a kind woman who had somehow talked a senshi into being her captive at one point (a curious case, that one). Lawsonite and Cacoxenite (that was right, they’d applied to change their names in the Negaverse database officially) didn’t look like terribly like converts either, what with Lawsonite’s generally apathetic demeanor and Cacoxenite’s predisposition towards punching things. Lawsonite’s lack of strong feelings one way or another could be taken as a positive in that she might not actively seek trouble, but she would also probably go with whatever seemed to work best in the moment. Saleh was starting to see the situation in all or nothing terms. Either he let Cor Caroli go and fled, or he converted his captive and stayed. Letting Cor Caroli go would set him up for a great reprisal and the possible extinguishing of his plans right then and there, and staying would mean the sacrifice of someone new. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he’d kept Cor Caroli hostage for all this time instead of straight-up corrupting him for a reason. He was hesitating, and he had a feeling that people were watching him and they knew about it. Upon reflection, he was beginning to feel not so attached to his regular life. Work was work. He didn’t speak to his family much these days. The Negaverse and the pursuit of his ideals seemed to be the only thing he had. Would anyone notice if he just popped out of existence in the Negaverse? Maybe Sylvite would. Sylvite was all right. If she came for him, he wouldn’t be surprised. Other than her, a few stray lieutenants, and whoever was undoubtedly watching from higher up in the chain, he didn’t think many people knew he existed or what he was trying to do, both on the surface and deeper down. He gave a derisive huff at himself. He was being ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. To stay was to be foolish and to leave was to be foolish. If he left, what was all his hard work for? What would Bezel have died for if he left? At this point, it felt like he was chewing on his thoughts over and over again, like his teeth would pierce his brain if he didn’t. He was thinking in circles. The whole ruminating process needed to be halted now. The question could be simplified: did Paracelsian trust the Negaverse to give him what he needed? Now he wasn’t so sure. He could test the system in a few ways. Perhaps it was possible to let Cor Caroli go and stay in the Negaverse while he worked out what he truly wished to do. All or nothing thinking was a fallacy anyway. It was entirely possible that he didn’t have to act right away (he hadn’t so far, for sure), and that his superiors wouldn’t act right away either. If he could believe that he could change the Negaverse from the inside out, then surely he could believe those things too. Eventually, he managed to placate himself enough to drift off into an uneasy sleep, filled with dreams he couldn’t remember beyond the fact that they existed and that they were rough in the moment. He refused to get out of bed at first, staring at the ceiling for a while, but he was sure of one thing when he did get up: he needed to pay his captive a visit. It was time to commute Cor Caroli’s sentence, one way or another. [Word Count: 1012, 2x Solo Bonus.]
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2021 9:25 am
SOLO: Commuting Orpheus's Sentence Paracelsian only knocked once before opening Cor Caroli’s door, because he was holding a drink carrier with two cold drinks and he didn’t feel like dropping them right now. “Get up. Your sentence is being commuted.” “I’m already up,” Cor Caroli said, his tone flat. The lack of strong emotional reaction to his presence concerned Paracelsian more than it surprised him. It made him wonder if the senshi would know what to do if he wasn’t corrupted, since he seemed incredibly convinced that it was fated to happen. “So, I guess you made your decision?” “Yes. In case it wasn’t clear, I’m letting you go. I even brought drinks to celebrate your release.” Paracelsian gestured to the frosty drinks with his free hand. “Non-alcoholic, but they’re still very good.” “Huhwhat?” Cor’s eyes went wide in legitimate surprise, confirming Paracelsian’s suspicion that he’d expected to be corrupted the whole time. “Uh… really?” “Yes, really. Let’s go. We’ll walk and talk till we find a good spot, then you can either take your drink to go or just go off on your own.” Paracelsian had already taken a few steps away. “If you stay here, I might change my mind.” “Yessir.” Cor got up and just about bounced over to behind Paracelsian, following him out the door of the warehouse and to an abandoned lot a block or two away. With a sigh, Paracelsian set the drink carrier down and held a chocolatey minty concoction out. “Here. Drink up. I’m sure it’s welcome after the random scraps I’ve been bringing you.” “Huh, thanks.” Cor took a sip and nearly shot into the air. “Oh man, you are so right. This is the best tasting thing I’ve had in a while.” “You’re free to go. In fact, I recommend you go. I’m sure you have a lot of people worried about you and loose ends to tie up.” Paracelsian did not lower his mask or drink his own iced coffee. In fact, he was still internally on high alert. He didn’t expect Cor to pull anything like a SOS signal, but he had to be careful all the same. “Actually, I might hang around for a bit, because I’ve got a few questions,” Cor said after another sip. “First of all, what’s going to happen to you now that you’re letting me go?” Paracelsian shrugged, casting a distracted glance at his drink. “I don’t know. I don’t think this merits a demotion or anything worse than a reprimand and some stern words from a General. On the one hand, while I failed to corrupt you, we don’t have you taking our resources anymore. It’s a neutral point, I think.” “Really now?” Cor asked. “Like I said a bit back, I don’t know how committed you still are to doing what you’re doing if you were willing to let me sit that long. Are you sure you really want to keep doing the Negaverse thing?” Paracelsian’s gaze drifted downward and he sighed into his scarf. “I am not going anywhere. I still foolishly believe in my ability to make change from where I am. I don’t think any purification would take.” “You don’t think?” Cor kept the questioning inflection up, as though trying to apply some pressure. “You’re weirdly self aware for a Negaverse agent, especially a Captain. You said it yourself, that you think your plans are ‘foolish.’ Do you really believe in what you’re doing anymore?” This time, a rankled grunt escaped the Captain. Paracelsian narrowed his eyes in an attempt to glare at Cor to make him knock it off. “That’s not what matters. What matters is that I have not given up. The Negaverse has enough of a grip on me and my ideals that purification will not happen.” “Are you suuuuuure?” Cor’s grin was taunting, but the chuckle that followed was less confident. “Heh, well, I’m not really in the business of changing people. If your head’s really still in the game, then that’s it.” “Thank you for finally understanding,” Paracelsian grumbled. “In the end, I’ll leave you with a warning: if we meet again and the option is still on the table, I cannot promise that I will leave you intact.” Cor shrugged. “Fair enough. You can’t really afford to screw up twice, right?” Of course, he had to get one last dig in. “Are you sure you don’t want me to hunt down a Royal of some sort and we can just try it out? That’d be the ultimate test.” “I don’t appreciate the idea of having my starseed fried as a litmus test, thank you very much.” Paracelsian was just about growling now, because he couldn’t tell if Cor was trying way too hard or if he was just messing with him, but either option was annoying. He took a few steps away, because he didn’t want to keep this nonsense going anymore. “I’m going. You should too.” “Wait a sec,” Cor cut in, making Paracelsian jump and groan in frustration. The senshi summoned his phone. “Good, that’s still there.” He began to tap out a text, and Paracelsian spun around. “What are you doing?” Paracelsian asked, ready to summon his dagger if the senshi tried anything funny. “Just letting people know I’m back and mostly unharmed,” Cor said before hitting send. “Yup, done. Guess now I have to go before you change your mind, huh?” With a short, sharp chuckle, he began to step away. “Well, see you. Maybe. Maybe not.” “Just go already!” Paracelsian groaned, thoroughly tired of being trolled. “Don’t make me change my mind and grab your starseed right here.” “Whatever, bye!” Cor called over his shoulder, taking a sip of his drink as he walked off. It didn’t seem like the recklessly trolling senshi was coming back this time, so Paracelsian finally went on his own way. He lowered his scarf and took one sip of his iced coffee, which had gotten a bit melty over the course of the exchange. Sighing, he shook his head the whole way home. Even if Cor’s intent had been to confirm otherwise, he felt that the exchange had actually solidified his resolve. He knew that, however tenuous it was, he still had that tether to the Negaverse in his heart, and as long as it was there, no purification would take. He was going to take his steps towards his ideal world now, and he wouldn’t give up till his options were utterly exhausted. [Wordcount: 1080, 2x solo bonus]
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Posted: Mon Jun 28, 2021 6:56 pm
SOLO: Celestial Substance Quote: The Wishing Tree (2) : Your wish is only said to come true if you grant the wish of someone else; when you write your wish, you must also take one off of the tree and do your best to grant it. What wish do you pull off, and how do you intend to ‘grant’ it? Do you work with someone else to grant this wish, or do you work alone? You may get approval from another player to use the wish their character hung up, but no names are attached so your character may not ever know who wrote it! Paracelsian made sure to stay powered up and vigilant when the Star Festival kicked into high gear. Something was always bound to come around during significant periods in the city’s history or activity, and from what he’d been seeing, that something was already here. Between the massive thump and brief blackout and assorted other shenanigans being reported, he was very sure something was going to be waiting for him soon enough. And sure enough, bobbing under a streetlight like a large, glowing, and very confused moth (except moths flapped, not bobbed) was a peculiar wispy orb. It was an item of interest to be sure, and he strode over to the wisp to examine it. When he put his hand up to it, it was rather solid for something that appeared to be made of soft light. "Silky" came to mind as a descriptor for its texture, or maybe silk-like. Soft, smooth, and ever so slightly warm was how it felt, especially after Paracelsian took one of his gloves off to handle it better. The solidness of the orb belied how slippery it was. One of his fingers twitched, and the orb slid out like it had been greased. This resulted in a funny little incident where he kept trying to grab the wisp, only for it to slip away from his fingers again and again. In a fit of determination, he clamped both hands over the wisp, and very carefully spread his fingers to confirm he'd captured the thing. Sure enough, there it was, very carefully contained in his grasp. Though it was sort of solid, it was also not, somehow. Semi-permeable, perhaps? It yielded ever so slightly to being squeezed, or at least his fingers passed into it a little. Suddenly, the wisp flickered, its light wavering before it blinked out of existence entirely. Thinking it had escaped despite still feeling it, he unclasped his hands and began to swipe around wildly, hoping to catch it again. It was definitely a mystery, and he had a thing for wanting to solve mysteries. He thought he felt it slide against his left hand when it flickered back into existence, or at least visibility. It bobbed harmlessly in front of Paracelsian, who couldn't help but feel a little taunted that the wisp had slipped away so easily. Odds were that the item was magical in nature, and if it was, he would be able to contain it in subspace. With another clamp of determination, he seized the wisp once more, and slipped it into subspace just like he would an energy orb or his communicator. It went in as easily as anything else of its kind would. A quick double-check confirmed it was safely stored: completely invisible, as expected, but still very much there. Now he had to figure out what he wanted to do with it. Every MacGuffin had a destination, so surely this wisp needed to go somewhere. It was time to beat feet and see what was up. [Word count: 501]
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Posted: Sat Jul 03, 2021 9:24 pm
SOLO: You got your answer Quote: The Wishing Tree (1): A Destiny City Star Festival Tradition to be held every year; In Town Square, there is a beautiful tree with spreading branches. It is tall, but the lowest branches are easily reached. The city has decorated the tree with small, starlike ornaments and glistening lights. Thick leaves and beautiful purple flowers dangle from the branches, along with a myriad of different colored papers with handwritten wishes. Next to the tree is a stack of blank paper with twine attached, and a handwritten sign that explains: Write your wish on a sheet of paper and tie it to the tree. Take one wish off the tree and do your best to grant it. When you have granted the wish, bury the paper in the park. The papers are biodegradable and filled with seeds. There are no rules for wishing, but you are encouraged to wish for something vague enough that it can be interpreted in many ways so that it can be granted; you do not write your name on it, but it is encouraged to write something that doesn’t wish for self gain, but rather something that can make the world a better place. Some wishes dangling from the tree already include things like “I wish there wasn’t so much litter in the park,” “I wish someone would clean the graffiti off the old historic buildings,” and “I wish there were more volunteers at the shelter.” If you choose to use the Wishing Tree, what do you wish for? If your wish is private, you may write it on the paper and choose a spot in the park and bury it yourself instead of hanging it on the tree. Paracelsian would ordinarily have powered down when approaching an area like the Wishing Tree, but the presence of a powered aura raised his guard and made him opt not to. In fact, it was a Super Senshi aura, which made him even more curious. Was the tree being guarded? The aura wasn't advancing on him, which was curious, as he expected Order auras to approach upon detection, regardless of whether it was to fight or to negotiate. The senshi was holding their position and clearly not about to move, so he decided that he would just take the bait and make his approach. The senshi standing in front of the Wishing Tree made Paracelsian's heart drop into his stomach. Cor Caroli was nonchalantly tying a wish to the tree, not even responding to the aura that he knew the senshi had to have felt. All he could do was stare at him as he finished up, unsure of what to expect. He thought he felt his fingers twitch or tremble. Cor Caroli turned to face Paracelsian, and he didn't even register surprise. "Oh, hey," he said, raising a hand in greeting. "You wanna make a wish too?" "How can you ask me something like that?" Paracelsian asked, taken aback by the casual meeting. "I told you that next time we met, I couldn't promise that I'd leave you intact." "I don't see you summoning your weapon or diving for my starseed," Cor said with a shrug. "Where's your sense of urgency?" "Where's yours?" Paracelsian quipped back. An awkward pause ensued as he found himself completely unsure of what to do. Cor gave a short, sharp chuckle. "Just as I thought. You don't really have it in you to do this whole Negaverse thing, do you? I can think of at least two other agents I've met who would have me relieved of my starseed either permanently or until they could get me corrupted." "Don't say that," Paracelsian growled. "I... I have killed a senshi before." He tried not to think of Bezel's lifeless final expression often, but he could remember it with ease. "Yeah, sounds about right," Cor said with a nod. "Where did it get you?" "It got me to Captain." "And you thought that corrupting me would take you to General, right?" Cor waited for the Captain's nod. "But you couldn't do it, and you're not doing it right now. Where do you really stand, other than at an awkward crossroads?" "I..." Paracelsian stalled to try and gather the right words. He tried to do a rapid-fire compilation of what was stopping him: Pendour's firm disapproval, the burning slaughter of Operation Firepit, and the nagging feeling that his quest was foolish from the start and he would never be able to institute his reforms. Yet, something inside him told him that he would never be able to properly purify as he was right now. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. "I see your gears turning," Cor said. "What'll it be?" "It can't be," Paracelsian sputtered. "It can't be anything. No matter how horrified people are at me, no matter what atrocities happen on my way up... I need power. I need power to be able to enforce my wishes, to make people listen, to create a better world for everyone. I can't give it up. Even if everyone hates me and I become a monster... I can't give it up." For the first time in the whole exchange, Cor Caroli's expression shifted into an obvious frown. "Well, there you have it, then. I guess I should say I'm glad I helped you make your choice, even if it's... kind of a disappointing one." "Disappointing?" Paracelsian snarled, growing more agitated by the second. "How can you say that when you were so close to giving up yourself?" "Let me tell you what I was wishing for just now." Cor's voice trembled ever so slightly. "I was wishing that more people would find answers to their important questions. Guess it's been kinda granted, huh?" "I wanted to wish for the same thing." Paracelsian held his hand out, the only warning Cor would get that he was about to summon his weapon. "I can only hope you had your questions answered before now." "I was kinda almost there, yeah, I guess I've still got some senshi pride left in me," Cor muttered, his gaze going to Paracelsian's hand. "What are you doing?" Paracelsian's dagger coalesced into existence. "I'm making good on my promise. You wasted your second chance, senshi. This is what I must do to preserve humanity in the long run." "Oh, shi-!" Cor began to back away. "No way! Did I just break something in your head? Snap out of it!" "You could say that. It was something fragile to begin with, teetering on a precipice. It was only a question of where it would fall." With a grunt, Paracelsian lunged forward. The dagger in his hand was merely a feint; the true danger laid in his left hand, poised to plunge into Cor's chest. Cor was not fast enough to dodge the thrust forward, and all he could give was a choked cry out when Paracelsian hit his target. Cor had only felt this sensation once before, long ago. What Paracelsian said next did not stem the tide of pain and dread washing over him. "Don't worry. You have my word that you won't be without your starseed for long. It will be returned to you, and you will help me on my journey to right all these wrongs." With that, Paracelsian retracted his hand, and Cor Caroli slumped forward in a way that allowed him to catch him on his way down. He un-summoned his weapon, and unfurled his hand to take a look at the gleaming blue-tinted prism that, in essence, was Cor Caroli. If he thought about it like that, it made him shudder. He made the mistake of looking at the glazed-over eyes of the soulless senshi, and it made him shudder yet again. There was no more Bezel. There would still be a Cor Caroli, in a fashion. It wasn't too late. He could return Cor Caroli's starseed to his body and leave it at that. Here he stood at yet another awkward crossroads, if not the same one he started with. The Negaverse would not let him fail twice. It was all or nothing now. Slowly, he dragged Cor Caroli away from the Wishing Tree. [Words: 1092, 2x solo bonus]
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Posted: Sun Aug 29, 2021 10:41 am
SOLO: Song of the End Quote: 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. Paracelsian had come to a decision, or at least the easiest half of one. Cor Caroli was getting his starseed back, and he would not be taken in for corruption. He would make sure the senshi woke up, and then they would part, perhaps for good, in one direction or another. A beautiful song made its way to Paracelsian's ears, and a pang of guilt felt as though it sliced his heart from the inside. He had no idea what the lyrics were, but the tone of the song transcended the need for words: it was mournful, packed with strong, heavy feelings. The song called to him, and yet called through him, as though the singer shared his guilt and pain. Grief, that was a good word for the sensation clutching at his chest right now. Grief for what had been lost, and what he could be about to lose. As he made his way to where he had hidden Cor Caroli, the wondrous voice's dynamics increased in volume. The voice was feminine, he decided, and as he walked, it was as though he emptied his mind to all but the song and his mission and the guilt squeezing his heart. The pain on a mental and physicalized level was intense and real, and there was a moment where he wished he could remove his own starseed to rid himself of it. What foolishness. The fact that corrupt senshi could do that without consequences was a defiance of nature in itself, in a way. He trudged on, guided by the consistency of the song. It always seemed to be the same distance away, except for when it grew louder. He was almost there, and the woman's operatic wails were dangerously close to drawing tears to his eyes. Soon, he found the body, propped up against the tree as though he were merely resting. Breath hitching in his chest to stifle sobs, he pulled out the starseed that belonged to Cor Caroli. No longer would this thing burn him from subspace, or cause the feeling that it was. It would be returned to its rightful owner. He pressed it up against the senshi's chest, and with a flash, it went back to him. Cor began to breathe again, but Paracelsian found no relief. The song was at its peak, a glorious tribute to pain and redemption, and despite himself, he choked out a sob as the music snapped to silence. Cor stirred, opening his eyes to see Paracelsian staring down at him, covering his eyes with his hands. "You... you put it back, and I'm still me," he said in a hoarse voice. "Go," Paracelsian said through exhausted weeping even as he tried to bite it back. "Run. Get out of here as fast as you can, and we will not see each other again." As much as Cor wanted to ask what had happened and what had changed the Captain's mind so hard and fast, he knew better than to believe that Paracelsian was stable enough to leave him intact. Groaning, he pulled himself up, and he fled the scene as fast as his legs could take him. Paracelsian slumped to his knees, an emptied shell that ached from the inside out. He'd done what was needed.
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Posted: Mon Jan 10, 2022 7:08 pm
SOLO: For Questioning Paracelsian had powered up for the first time in a long time, so long that he wasn’t quite sure when the last time was. It could have been a year or several months, but at this point, he figured it didn’t matter. No one had come to check on him or coerce him into doing his duty. Well, that wasn’t quite true. Cafetite and Nambulite occasionally found him and asked when he was going to come back and help out. Then again, “asking” only applied to Cafetite, who would gently pry, smile sweetly, and then go about her business. Nambulite would be wildly overbearing and try to rally his Captain’s spirits in the most dramatic and obnoxious ways possible. Cafetite’s presence he didn’t mind; Nambulite’s presence made him want to put his head through a wall at times. Cafetite really did deserve better, he thought. She was a sweet lady who thought only of how to care for those around her. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, she would see what her care was feeding and reconsider her stance on it all. However, she was curiously devoted to attempting to do well in the Negaverse, even somehow capturing an Eternal senshi with Nambulite’s help. How it transpired was a mystery to Paracelsian, and he wasn’t surprised that that senshi got away eventually, but it was worth some kind of credit. All the same, he wished he could crack open her motive and figure out why she continued to serve the Negaverse. It would undoubtedly twist her at some point. Nambulite, on the other hand, was insufferable. Sometimes humorously so, other times painfully so. He represented the chaotic part of Chaos’s forces, the faction that just went wild and did whatever the heck it wanted because that was the hand it had been dealt. Paracelsian was unsurprised that Nambulite had never received a promotion after his years as a lieutenant; the man lacked direction beyond “steal shiny things and be an absolute nuisance to as many people as possible.” However, if someone were to give him that direction and focus, he could become a force to be reckoned with, which was both a terrible and fascinating notion. Cafetite was generally easy to find, as she had a tendency to lurk outside her workplace for people to drain. It was a curious establishment that operated as a cafe during the day and a bar at night, and her civilian job was working at the cafe. At night, she would hang around outside the bar and act as an unofficial greeter and bouncer of sorts, draining people on their way in and out. It made Paracelsian wonder if the owner was aware of what exactly was going on, but there probably was no easy way to break the news about what was going on in any form. Paracelsian made his way to the Sugar Star, praying up and down that he felt no other auras on his way. Getting into an altercation was absolutely not one of his goals tonight; he just didn’t have the energy for it and it would end terribly regardless of who “won.” Fortunately, he felt nothing but a small dark spot on the edge of his senses, most likely a lieutenant, most likely Cafetite. He was on the right track. Sure enough, the pink-haired Lieutenant was at the door of the Sugar Star, shaking hands with people, patting them on the back, and in one case helping someone prop their drunk buddy up. Her quota would probably be fine for tonight. If she sensed him, she didn’t react until he approached. “Captain! Hi!” she chirped, placing her hands behind her back. “I’m glad to see you out and about.” “Just Paracelsian is fine in public,” Paracelsian murmured, greeting her with a nod. “I see you’re still doing your best. It’s nice to see.” That was true; it was indeed heartening to see how much effort Cafetite put into her work. Of course, it would only be charming while she was draining easily-replenished energy. It would stop being that way when she started pulling starseeds and actively harassing senshi and knights. If only she would put that effort into caring for regular people and not just the Negaverse… except, according to records, she already did. Why she needed more to care for on top of civilians was an avenue for questioning. “Thank you!” Cafetite offered a cheery salute. “Would you like to help out here? The Sugar Star is busy tonight, so there’s lots of people to greet and help to their cars.” The subsequent wink laid out her plan as obviously as if she said it: she wanted him to get in on energy draining for the night. Ordinarily, Paracelsian might have accepted the request. Energy draining was simple and harmless enough. However, he’d probably have to turn in that energy, and that would be an opportunity for a higher-up to find him and shake him down for an explanation and possible reprisal. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Would you mind if we found a place to chat for a bit?” “What a coincidence! I also wanted to talk with you. Why don’t we go into the Sugar Star? I’d be happy to point out some recommendations on the menu.” Cafetite seemed to beam at the notion. Paracelsian shook his head. “Not recommended. If someone with Order feels two Chaos auras in a public space, I can’t say I trust them not to be the kind willing to tear apart everyone’s good time to get to us. Also, I, uh, forgot my ID.” Cafetite nodded, something grim sinking into her expression. “I’d hope they’d have the sense to not bring our fight into a crowded space full of witnesses, but you’re right, you can’t trust them, can you?” The intent of the two sentences was different. Paracelsian was focused on defending the civilians who might get caught in the crossfire, but Cafetite was focused on the distrust of Order and maintaining her cover. It was a small slip, but one that caught Paracelsian’s attention, and it was incongruous with what he knew of her. The demands of the Negaverse must have been getting to her. All the same, the two headed off to a parking lot a few blocks away to have their discussion. As they left, he got the impression that there was another lieutenant aura somewhere nearby, but opted not to investigate it. Once they arrived, Cafetite placed her hands behind her back, though less formally than at first. “Forgive me for stepping out of line, but I don’t think my question will take that much time… I just want to know if you’re doing okay. I haven’t seen you in the field in a long time, and even though some shocking things have happened, it just doesn’t seem like you to drop the cause without warning.” “Just saying ‘some shocking things have happened’ greatly understates the degree to which those ‘things’ were shocking,” Paracelsian muttered, trying to read Cafetite to determine if her concern was genuine or if she was mining for data to turn in on him. “We were party to reckless property damage and slaughter of civilians. We have an alien faction in our midst. Those two events alone would give normal people pause.” He hesitated, and an addition slipped out of his mouth. “I suppose you’ve graduated beyond ‘normal person’ now, haven’t you?” Cafetite lowered her eyes, a gesture of reflection. “Mm… maybe.” A silent beat passed. “If that gives you pause, it’s not too late to take a step back and think about why you’re serving the Negaverse… and to take a second step back if you find your reasoning doesn’t hold up.” Paracelsian could see that a reply, or perhaps an objection, was on the tip of Cafetite’s tongue, but no one got to say anything before a familiar voice blasted everything away like the most pernicious of foghorns. “Heyyyy, it’s you guys!” The voice coupled with the clacking of heels on the pavement made the source of the small black spot on Paracelsian’s senses unmistakable. “Nambulite.” “Hi, Nambulite!” Cafetite smiled and waved, probably thankful for the release from deep thought. “Hi to you too!” Nambulite lurched over Paracelsian’s shoulder, to the point that their hair mixed together. “Bro, your hair is getting looooong.” “The hell.” Paracelsian shook his head and sidestepped away from Nambulite, who frankly smelled. “Have you been drinking on the job?” “Yeah, maybe, why the hell not, what of it?” The heeled lieutenant snorted. “Nah, no way! Put the reports down. I was in the Sugar Star for a bit, and I stared out the window and saw you two, and I wanted to join you!” “Oh, thank god. That was a report I did not have the energy to file.” Paracelsian sighed heavily, the breath laden with exasperation. “I suppose I can ask you the question I was going to ask Cafetite as well.” He doubted that he was going to get a workable answer from Nambulite in the first place, let alone in his current condition, but it was worth a shot anyway. “Question, eh? Ask away! But you know, there’s better places for three agents to stand around than this… how ‘bout we power down and go into the Sugar Star? That way we can talk about whatever we want and no one can say boo to us!” Nambulite’s grin was lopsided as he gestured towards the bar with his head. “But if the wrong person is also in the bar-” Nambulite cut off Paracelsian with a quickness. “They’re not our problem till they power up and get up in our business, and if they have have a brain in their head they’re sure as hell not doing that in the middle of a bar.” “He has a point,” Cafetite said with a shrug. “Even if some them are really dumb.” Paracelsian heaved another exhausted, exasperated sigh. “Fine. I guess it leaves less of a mark than standing around powered up, anyway.” He didn’t power down first, and it was a small relief that Nambulite and Cafetite did so quickly. “Well, boss? You gonna hang up your coat for the night or what?” Tyler said, his grin just as wild as it was when he was powered up. “Yeah, fine, hold on.” Saleh released his mental grip on his power, and his uniform dissolved away. “Let’s go.” [1746 words, 3x solo bonus.]
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