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 Posted: Tue Mar 26, 2019 3:47 pm
Whatever movement in his appendages went still as he stared back and his expression pinched as the conversation continues to sour in the air. While the general seemed less than pleased with the corrupted's answer, he was even more displeased with Vitriol's.
"I didn't brush it aside. I answered honestly." His tone was short and curt, not getting why Faustite for all his colorful phrasing and direct instructions felt his responses were somehow a personal attack on him. It wasn't like him to be that sensitive. "Or was I not to say anything at all?" He pressed back.
And then he accused him of somehow usurping his power and he grew even more agitated, the tail pick up from it's one easy pendulum to flicking about.
"I'm not here to run any show here. Now you're getting it all wrong." If anything, he was in no way trying to take any power that wasn't given to him and had only been answering. If he had talked to him all this time in the past, he should have at least known that much.
"Because you were the one that brought up having concerns and if you have concerns, shouldn't I have concerns that I should be aware of? If that's the case, transitioning from being human to being a half-youma has it's own separate difficulties than being a senshi to a corrupted senshi. One is a shift from purified to chaotic. But that's not just it, is it? My whole body has changed. My .....mannerisms or whatever else. So you'd know more about it than anyone else in this room." He had no way to cross his arms as easily as anyone else in this situation, and instead let them fidget by his side as he stared back at the General.
"Sir."
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Posted: Sun Mar 31, 2019 11:51 am
Heliodor took Wolframite’s response with a level, unreadable expression. Perhaps he had expected such a retort or maybe he was used to vitriol being spat back at him, but he didn’t raise comment. No. He didn’t need to, Faustite was already taking care of the obvious lack of interest in camaraderie or at least a lack in social skills. At the same time though, Heliodor was still very well aware how frustrating it could be to have someone else make assumptions about the state of his own being. Perhaps Wolframite was dealing with the same issues?
As Faustite turned attention to Helio, the corrupts expression didn’t change. Instead he nodded his head in response that he understood what the captain was saying. Internally though he found his own aggravation rising. You’re cryptic with question and expectations. Elaborating would have been more useful and honed in on what you wanted to hear. But, he spoke no concerns. Something he had learned over time. He'd need to be more astute next time in his response if he was going to appease Faustite. A trait he was sure Wolframite would eventually catch onto as well. One needed to pick their battles carefully.
So, Heliodor watched the exchange between the two. A small quirk of his mouth ticked up at Wolframite’s pointed ‘Sir’ as he finished. That was a retort that Heliodor himself had used many a times in the past. It had earned him nothing, but certainly had helped his own sense of self-worth to mock those in higher standing than himself. Certainly another trait that he had learned to leave behind.
Before Faustite could pop back into the conversation, Helio chimed back in. “You’re right. There are some things we can’t fully understand about one another. Our corruptions, while still the same in theory were vastly different in execution.” A hand gestured towards Wolframite to emphasize his point. “But, this doesn’t mean we can’t find a common ground. To do that we need to be open-minded. I didn’t say my problems were anything that you’d likely face, but they are my demons. Yours, are your own. Both are complicated, but we need to work together so effort needs to be made to at least be respectful.”
Why is it though that you half-youma seem determined to throw away your humanity though? He glanced from Wolframite to Faustite. Both human beings in Helio’s eyes. Human beings with unnatural traits and abilities, but nothing, in the corrupts mind, that completely strips away their core human base. They didn’t rely on instinct alone to survive like most full youma in their single desire for energy and starseeds.
“As it stands, General Faustite is the one in charge. The one whom you need to abide at this point in time. While you may not have intended to insult you did and it’s not acceptable.” Certainly not in front of others. What happens behind closed doors was something else entirely and tended to be a bit more forgivable with no witnesses.
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Posted: Tue Apr 09, 2019 7:25 pm
So you're only concerned as far as my experiences relate to you. Faustite steeled eir expression, folded hands in lap.
"We need to teach you sarcasm yet," Faustite breathed to Vitriol, and to Heliodor, ey gestured pointedly. That Vitriol thought so literally and relied so on face-value was itself telling of cognitive capacity. Little told of crossing battle lines twice over, but now they both bore witness to its intrinsic damage. Subtle and conniving it was for how easily it slipped past Vitriol's own detection. What a tell, those excited remarks. That bushy tail.
Faustite leaned forward as much as eir configuration would allow. Her promise was ever a reminder when facing these two.
Heliodor mentioned enough to the merits of solidarity. Wolframite proved his lack of interest in camaraderie earlier, however, and Faustite doubted any interest in fostering bonds with his general beyond what would be immediately useful to him. But so many officers thrived by treating others as tools.
"Fine. I faced the same instant transformation. My fingers hurt, my eyes throbbed like a migraine for a week. My general disappeared. My next-in-command was an eternal senshi who consigned herself to Schörl, which placed me under Schörl. Then I faced the social changes — no more school, no more friends, no more family, no more being a teenager. No more life. Only the Negaverse. Only serving a power for which I had only disdain.
"But that's beside the point, isn't it?" Faustite straightened. "Nuanced changes to mannerisms came with youmafication. Self-restraint difficulties. I was easier to anger, harder to cow. Addressing Negaverse work grew easier for reasons I couldn't explain. But was that part of youmafication or puberty? I was fifteen when I youmafied. It might just be age. It might just be me.
"More changed when I was promoted. At Captain, I left the office fine. In minutes, I couldn't breathe. Someone stabbed a pen in my back, found a sac that wasn't there before. Smoke came out. Surgery happened." The general gestured to the pipes that still jutted from eir back, shiny and stark, ever wafting smoke swirls into the room. "At General, my guts fell out. Littered the floor. I thought I was dying. I smelled them cooking — it reminded me of Independence Day barbecues. Two strangers assisted me, got me to the infirmary. To Schörl. Then came more surgery.
"Does that answer your question?" Faustite asked with a simmering intensity.
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Posted: Tue Apr 09, 2019 8:30 pm
Helidor was - very right. He went quieter when the other, in the same, even, unwavering tone it had when seeing the chair on fire, when his tea was dumped, and when Wolframite raised his voice, had kept.
He had completely missed what else could be taken from the conversation and went to the far right of what was being discussed instead of staying in the same circle. While Faustite and Helidor had their own rhythm and understood each other in the same easy way they had moved around each other and accounted for the other's momentary faults, the effortless movements were absent in him. He had not formed the same kind of relationship with them and in turn was just a new element tossed into their orbits. A still simmering planet in their cosmos eeking out impurities into the void.
He was envious of their rhythm and understanding of each other, and felt childish in his reaction suddenly.
"I'm sorry. You're right." He said, quieting down and removing himself from the flaring embers from before. He remained still by the door, separated from the pair.
"It's been a very long time since I've been on any team." He had made a attempt as a knight but it fell through before it even could stick together. Before that, he had never formed a team as a General. Not once did he claim a subordinate and instead just trained anyone he happened upon or wanted a lesson.
The Sarcasm reveal had him staring for a moment and then even more quiet then before. "I've been told that." He had once blown up on General Queen Tanzanite during a Rift meeting because she joked about doing it in the Rift with his boyfriend and he blew up on her because he thought she was being literal. Again, Sarcasm.
It was a art that completely missed him. He wondered if he was this dumb as a human and if there was a reason for it.
Faustite had his own part to say on his transformation and while he answered, he looked in no way pleased with saying it to him. It was by far one of the few times he had ever heard about any of Faustite's personal experiences and it was just as hated to give as when he had started a fight with Gevaudan when he asked the man if he was lonely.
That glare he received was not one he wanted to take, and he gave a nod. "Yes."
Though now he was inwardly worried about his own body. He had felt that, once he had become a half-youma, that there wouldn't be much changes afterwards. Somehow with everything that had happened, he had forgotten that Faustite had mentioned his body had changed during his rise in rank. Did that mean he would change more then? How? He had no fire in his guts that would burn him out, but that didn't mean something painful could twist his body more.
But then it's mind just swung back to thinking about his General. To become a Captain and then just suddenly top breathing. Did he think this was the end? That he was going to die? How long did it take for someone to find him to rush him to the hospital? They had to have done the surgery here. How did the doctors feel on handling a situation that was unique to just half-youma and even more Faustite. They had to have just made decisions and hoped for the best. And again. and again. Surgeries upon surgeries. How long had Faustite been in bed wondering if he'd ever be able to work after all the effort he put into promoting? And then worried again what would happen once he became a general. If that would be it for him.
What a terrifying though to have.
He crossed his arms, silent.
"I'm sorry, Sir."
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