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 Posted: Mon Nov 13, 2017 6:31 pm
Faustite was a curious person. It wasn’t so much the fact that he was half youma that was gathering Oberon’s attention now, but his responses and the sometimes subtle movements he made as well.
“What do I know? I’m just a kid,” Oberon finally shrugged in response, although he struggled to keep himself from grinning, his lips twitching in the corner. “Kids just say a bunch of s**t and don’t really know anything, or so I’ve heard,” he added, knowing very well that it was not helpful. Maybe Faustite would get frustrated with him. But that was probably better than pushing for answers that they either didn’t know, or didn’t want to know.
Although, he did purse his lips in slight exasperation when he was accused of how he studied youma.
“Hey now, I just like to observe,” he corrected. “But instead of staring at youma in the safety of a lab, I’m actually out here doing the hard work, too. It’s completely different. There’s blood, sweat, and tears involved.”
He could tell that the half youma was digging for more, but he wouldn’t get any that easily. He didn’t need to know the troubles he had with his dying family, or what he’s seen as a child soldier in a magical war. Maybe another day, if they both lived long enough to meet again.
“I’m just saying… to you, senshi could be monsters. It all just depends on where we stand.”
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Posted: Fri Nov 17, 2017 6:07 pm
"I've heard the same." Faustite watched him severely. "Children should be seen and not heard. Told, not spoken to. They should be sequestered from the adult world. They have nothing of value to contribute." They're playthings for vicarious living. Vessels for all the experiences their parents never had.
I doubt either of our parents know about this. About these dangerously fast second lives.
Faustite shifted, his posture tightening perceptibly. His hands retracted to his back with his normal pacing. "So that's it? You hint at being a sociopath only to renege when I ask about it. You wanted me to ask so you could speak of other senshi? So you can spout more suppositions? I already live in a world of theories, Oberon. A world of thought and motive and planning. I want something more. I want a reason to act." But you only bait me, and offer nothing in return. Did I expect too much of you?
He froze then, his tension ratcheting up in consideration. He could toss his own line into the water, as Oberon once did. Their conversation shifted resolutely into perspective. All the lenses ticked away until clarity came — beautiful and terrible as it was. He bristled beneath it.
"I've only met one monster. She dresses dark like us. I'm meant to follow in her footsteps. She's monstrous in a way that only humans can be. Damning, isn't it?" My youmafication is my buffer from monstrosity — not my guarantee of it.
"If you're out of questions, Oberon, I should report to her. She expects all quotas turned in on time."
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Posted: Tue Nov 21, 2017 9:19 pm
He felt a little bad for getting Faustite so agitated. The other was an interesting person to talk to, but Oberon could understand feeling as though he was leading him on. Really, Oberon was just like his grandmother. Full of s**t and trying to prod for more information however he could get it. Sometimes theories and thoughts lead to interesting discussion, but Faustite didn’t seem to be enjoying the topics.
“Who is she? Metallia?” he asked, taking a step forward without realizing he was moving. He didn’t want the other to leave so quickly, but he also understood that he shouldn’t keep him away from his duties. “Good thing you collected your energy quota from me then, right? Saved you a little bit of time I hope,” he pointed out, mostly because he felt like he was finally getting somewhere. Something he’d said poked just hard enough.
He knew he could talk and talk and Faustite may believe what he said, or may think he was a fool, it didn’t matter. All he wanted was for the other to continue talking for as long as Faustite could tolerate.
“I don’t consider myself a sociopath, no. But I also don’t think you’re a monster. Not yet. I haven’t known you long enough to make that determination. I’m just a guy who thinks there’s more to learn than what I’ve been told, to put it simply. Not as interesting though, is it?” he admitted, wishing that maybe he could be a little more worthwhile to talk to, but he had nothing to really offer aside from his energy. And he’d already given that.
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2017 8:47 pm
"No." He heard the name Metallia only in reference; never once had he met the most notorious Negaverse bogeyman. The very source of power that Leucite so worshipped. The saint. His nose pinched briefly.
"General Schörl. My commanding officer. She wears the skin of men, but she earns the monster title by my standards and by yours. She's the worst general to serve when you have a mind. When you choose to use it." He stepped closer to Oberon, half in a measure of trust and half in expectation that Barbary listened from somewhere in the pitch darkness. Maybe he lingered in the tall grasses where the youma once tread. Maybe he loomed in gasping shadows that crossed streets after every car. And while he disliked the closeness, it afforded him the opportunity to lower his voice.
"I met only generals that are nothing like her. They cling to slipshod morals that twist and turn with their poor choices. Arsenopyrite was one of the worst. Chrysocolla lacks the mind to comprehend a word longer than five letters. Both of them are manipulable if you play to their sensibilities. Act upstanding and Arsenopyrite will bend over backward for you. Look up to her and Chrysocolla will abide by you any way she can. It's easy to sell company to lonely people like them. Their rank broke them in some way. Now they're just husks of people going through the motions — rehearsing all the old habits they never bothered to think about.
"But Schörl is different — she doesn't care about those trivialities. 'Moral' is synonymous with 'excuse'. Excuses hinder efficiency." And by standing around chatting with the enemy, he proved the pinnacle of inefficient. Faustite cracked a wry smile that he hid in the tuck of his chin.
"You sound bitter, Oberon. You shouldn't be. Sociopaths aren't more interesting." And if they are, then I wonder what company you keep.
Maybe youma remind you of them.
"But sociopaths are what drive us."guine i'm so out of practice i'm sorry
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Posted: Thu Nov 30, 2017 10:16 am
Schörl. That name. He’d heard it before, knew how others described her, knew that this was the same Negaverse officer he’d crossed paths with years ago. Somehow he’d managed to make it out alive, thanks to Ganymede stepping in. If she hadn’t, Oberon was certain he’d be dead or worse.
“Do I sound bitter?” he asked, listening intently to the names of the Generals that Faustite listed out. He couldn’t place the names with faces, but that didn’t mean anything. He’d met many the Negaverse officer without actually knowing their name. New officers rise through the ranks and new recruits show up every day. Apparently.
“No, she’s not one to cross. I wouldn’t want to hold you up if she’s the one you have to report to,” Oberon admitted, for the first time since meeting Faustite actually reigning in his enthusiasm.
“Would it be okay if I made note of our meeting in my research? I think it would be beneficial to return to what you’ve said at a later date,” he explained, and then paused with a shake of his head. “I only want to learn and educate others about youma. About the dangers, about the risks of becoming one, and maybe… maybe a way to either return the starseed to the Cauldron, or heal it in this lifetime. That’s all. I don’t expect much, but I want to learn whatever I can.”
There was no reason to hold back now. They would be parting ways and Oberon might never cross paths with Faustite again, so there was no harm in telling him his intention. From everything Faustite must have gone through, Oberon doubted it would be very interesting to him, but at least he would know.
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Posted: Fri Dec 08, 2017 9:08 am
Faustite considered the requet for only a moment. Ether Barbary or another of Schörl's assets lurked like an insidious pall, pushing paranoia into his throat. There was no regret for it now. "Go ahead," he returned. The Negaverse treasures its broken minds and yoked bodies. You're making a dangerous gamble. How far will you get with it before they find you out?
He knew of no one that would surrender themselves willingly to youmafication, but the Negaverse's cruel repercussions never asked for permission — his own partial fate was stirred anew by dipping his fingers into chests without question. The organization gave their blithe cautions against starseed consumption and agent promotion with no other obvious warnings. Any flagrant violations of Negaverse conduct that led to youmafication escaped the masses, though their appearances were few and far between by his own personal encounters. Often he felt he was the only one within the Negaverse to know the way his mistakes felt with such intimacy.
And yet, to pare it all away — "It's dangerous to hold hope in your hands." Faustite felt want for it himself, nursed its quiet burning while it mouthed displeasures over his inhuman parts. Hope felt like a needle p***k droning on and on and on beneath his skin. It felt like boiling salt, like a parched and overbearing sun. Did Oberon know the power of the words he spoke? Or was it second nature to sling them so frivolously?
If I could put away the mask and be Elex Yorke again, would I? His eyes remained settled on Oberon, unyielding and unseeing. Is it better to leave this life behind?
And the Cauldron — what is it? There's so many questions left to ask.
"Let's meet again at the end of the year." If one of us isn't dead by then. "I want to hear more — and you'll want more answers. This spot. This time. December thirtieth. What do you say, Oberon?" Is it worth the risk?
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Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2017 9:00 pm
Excellent. It was one thing to record his observations, but being able to actually have a conversation with someone who was part youma was something else entirely.
He wasn’t sure what was going on in the other’s head, but Oberon grinned when Faustite suggested that they meet again, and even had a date in mind.
Finals would be over by then at least. He knew he would have plenty of sleepless nights leading up to the end of the semester, so he was glad that Faustite was suggesting almost out to the new year. Maybe his grades would suffer because of his affinity for youma and his undying desire to learn as much as he could about them. Maybe he would get himself killed. And yet...
“It’s a date,” he said with a nod, and lifted a hand to salute to Faustite. December thirtieth. It would be there before both of them knew it.
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