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 Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2022 1:41 pm
"Foisting responsibility? You think I ******** wanted to ask for help? You think this is some frivolous bother because I can't be ******** to make my own calls?" Faustite growled his own frustration out into his hands before he raked them through his hair, half-tempted to seize and pull. But what good would that do?
"This isn't a ******** bait. Not a ******** test, either. I can't trust me right now," he urged, gesturing emphatically at himself. Can't trust Hessonite; she doesn't know me. Same with Lepidolite. Axinite would grant me the benefit of the doubt, even if I don't deserve it. You're the one most clearheaded to decide.
"But if that's too ******** bothersome, then leave. Take him with you. I'll ******** live here. Again." He heaved an unsteady sigh of frustration.
Gritting his teeth against the urge to cry, he reminded himself that he deserved all of this. Every dressing down, every slight, every vote of no confidence in his abilities. What was he but an addict crawling around in a General's uniform? He'd already tried to take his best friend's starseed, and needed his husband to intervene on the boy's behalf. And even then, Albite didn't know what to do. How could he?
He let Albite maunder on ahead with his imprecise speech. It would be better than anything Faustite could say. He trusted Albite's intuition with people, as he'd defused so many situations in the past. Cast up a suspicious eye through sprayed fingers when he heard the boy whispering, though he couldn't determine what was said.
And Jet — how did he explain that he wasn't asking for a judgment on himself as a means of mercy, but that he expected a ruling on a creature that posed a potential danger to the rest of the army? His thoughts were too flighty to catch, and words were spoken so close to the crisis that he couldn't articulate a whole thought out of it.
He wanted to see Kamacite again. Wanted to see the team again. But what if he couldn't keep his hands to himself? How would he trust himself?
"Don't know," he answered, feeling defeated.
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2022 6:44 pm
Jet could feel the anger churning like tinder getting too close to an always burning pilot light.
He was getting tired of this. He was getting tired of people treating him like some ******** therapist. Tired of being the scapegoat for their own guilt or fault of someone else.
Did people try to slap or hit Lepidolite? Did people curse and scream at Hessonite? Did they demand things from the Queen, only to dismiss her when she didn’t immediately answer how they wanted her to?
Officers he’d trusted with his life, who’d offered him a drink in the past, or asked for his help on missions, were the same ones who surprised him by how little they respected him. And the part that was probably his own fault was that he didn’t care what they thought of him -- and yet, he didn’t think he’d done anything to earn such callous disregard, especially now that he was a General King.
Albite’s chiding tone, gentle or not, earned him a quick glare in his direction, before his eyes focused on the tantruming half-youma in front of him. Whether or not Faustite trusted him, he was still making the fate of anyone Fasutite came into contact with Jet’s responsibility.
As far as Jet was aware, there were three options:
He could tell Faustite no, and Faustite would stay in the Rift.
He could tell Faustite yes, and Faustite wouldn’t be able to control whatever urges he had and end up killing someone.
He could tell Faustite yes, and Faustite would be able to keep his hands to himself.
Regardless of the outcome, it was still on Jet to decide the fate of whoever Faustite came into contact with, and therefore his responsibility.
Ah, there was a fourth option. He could tell Faustite no, and Faustite could ignore him, go against orders, and leave the Rift anyway.
Jet took Faustite’s indecisive answer to mean that he was at least temporarily done with his meltdown, which also meant Jet was free to move forward from where he was standing, and reached out to wrap his fingers around Faustite’s throat before shoving him backwards until he met the wall behind him.
He grit his teeth and let out a frustrated growl from the initial pain. His hand felt like it was burning, and he could only assume it would have been worse had he not been a General Sovereign.
And he might not have a fire-youma consuming half of his body, but there was fire in his eyes at the moment.
Since Faustite didn’t seem to respond well to being treated with respect and patience, Jet did something he was more familiar with -- at least when it came to Aquamarine being a brat.
“Stand down,” he snarled over his shoulder at both Albite and Headache before they thought to try and intervene. He squeezed his now red singed hand around Faustite’s throat a little harder, before having to readjust his tactic. He let go so he could shove down on Faustite’s shoulders with the intention of bringing him to his knees.
“If I shoved a starseed in your mouth right now, would you be able to spit it out?”
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2022 7:10 pm
Albite seized, silent n steady as stone. An entire held breath. His eyes were alive though, bright for all the dark, wide, focused. His mind whirling to try n comprehend exactly where Jet was going with -- everything. So ******** fast that before he'd thought to move, it'd already all happened. He'd been handed orders n words were spilling out and his friends were literally at each others throats....
His magic itched, n he forced the confusion filled hurt of a look he wanted to level Jet's way into some dark corner of the hut, got his s**t together and stared instead at where Faustite was being knelt into the dust; caught the low flames, the small shadows cast that made the whole place sickly. Raised them from dirt to flame-bright eyes, n let that look become as much a beg for Faustites 'willpower', as it was a hopeful cry of belief in him. He wasn't going to ask what would happen if Faustite couldn't, wasn't even going to think the words.
He couldn't control others. Only himself. Had a track laid out rail straight of what he would do depending on whichever outcome occurred.
Maybe if it all went south he'd send Jet a present fulla 'no hard feelings', he took orders terribly from everyone, Axinite, Kamacite, Hess, his own husband. It was never anything personal. Actually, he'd probably send it to Aqua with a lengthy note; instructions on how to plan the party out even if it was attended as more of a funeral than a full on 'wedding'.
Wait...could packages get sent out postmortem from the Rift? Maybe he'd become a badass feral kinda beast n do a whole thing!! Or maybe, maybe he could keep trusting Jet. N it'd all be fine. It had to be fine, didn't it? That was the way it was supposed to be.
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2022 12:25 am
Faustite had been stewing in his own miserable thoughts when he was seized. Instincts told him to peel the hand away from his neck when it squeezed, and he choked, and he realized it was Jet crushing his windpipe, not some errant youma with a longstanding grudge. Once he took heed of Who, he forced his hands to drop.
They seized crumbling brickwork instead. Broke off a chunk of the fireplace against which he was held, and Faustite crushed the remaining gravel against his palms as if it could distract him. It couldn't — not with the way he could only steal fleeting sips of air until Jet squeezed harder, and only a choked gurgle left the burning thing. His vision spotted, then tunneled, then blackened down to a pinpoint.
Then Jet let him go, and forced him into a messy kneel. Each scrap of air he tried to seize was followed by paroxysmal coughs. Heavy, rasping things that shook him for how strenuously his body worked to reinflate his windpipe. While seated on a half-thought mess of folded legs, Faustite doubled over until his hair brushed the dust-ridden floor.
An alcoholic will steal your wallet and lie to you. A drug addict will steal your wallet and then help you look for it.
It was why he couldn't trust himself, why he couldn't trust Albite or his team, either. If the addicted mind was that conniving, then how would he know that his own judgment was sound?
Prison systems didn't trust a prisoner's thoughts on their own rehabilitation — they had an external system to oversee it. That was what this was, wasn't it? Faustite's crime was his addiction, but the Negaverse didn't have many external systems for oversight. They didn't have courtrooms or a jury to convict him. Youma didn't care who or what he ate. His peers had no power over him. There were no court marshals in the Negaverse. His only recourse, then, was the Sovereigns.
His recourse was the Sovereign who told him it was his responsibility to assess himself. That he didn't want anything to do with this mess, or Faustite, or anything more to come from the youma General's decisions. Recourse was a hand around his throat.
Was this why people left the Negaverse?
When his breathing stabilized enough that he could hazard an answer, Faustite gave a short, raspy reply: "Not yet."
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2022 7:02 am
Jet crouched down in front of Faustite’s crumpled form. In his anger, he apparently didn’t know his own strength. Or maybe it was intensified by the pain of his now blistered hand. He flexed his fingers as he stared down at the reddened skin of his palm, and then reached out to grab hold of Faustite’s hair to make him lift his head enough to look at him.
“Do you purposefully try to make people upset with you so you’ll be punished? Is it because you hate yourself?” he asked through gritted teeth. He wasn’t being gentle with Faustite, but he wasn’t trying to rip his hair out. He could feel the heat on his hand, but figured it was already damaged, so what was a little more?
He didn’t hold onto his hair for much longer, because despite his hand already being burnt and probably needing immediate medical assistance, the pain was less tolerable as time passed. With Faustite’s hair released, Jet pushed himself up to stand once more, looking down at the General before him.
Jet’s anger was still there. It hadn’t fully exploded like he’d seen Faustite do with his youma abilities, but it was there being tempered now that Faustite wasn’t yelling and cursing at him.
“You said you need my judgment. You need me to decide if you are cleared to return. But my judgment has to include the livelihoods of all the lieutenants you suggested you’d eat. What about Kamacite, who you almost killed? What about all of the other Senshi in the Negaverse? Who gets to be their voice? This isn't just about you and what you can or can't handle, Faustite. This isn't just about you destroying yourself. It's about you destroying the lives of others as well. The lives of people who deserve a chance to live, just like you do.”
This wasn't just about addiction. It was about protecting people from being murdered, too.
He glanced over at Albite then. Not because he thought he would disobey a direct order -- especially an order that was essentially asking him to trust him.
“What happened?” he asked, looking back to Faustite again. “What caused this relapse?” he asked Faustite, and then, “Do you know, Albite?”
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2022 8:27 am
for a long time. Hasn't been snacking on us..hasn't been any more dangerous than he naturally is. I've only been with him a little over a year, but this whole thing just...happened..." not like Albite didn't see that it'd existed, all that hunger he liked to tease that lived right behind Faustites eyes. In every banked refusal and exasperated sigh he'd ever gotten for pressing the issue even gently. "For the record? M'not so worried about myself. Eion can manage control --- You told me to get gone after, that was tough, but you did that." not at all the same as spitting the treat off a tongue, but Albite needed to say it in lieu of reaching out.
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Posted: Tue Sep 13, 2022 3:39 pm
Faustite figured Jet's first question for a rhetorical one and kept his mouth shut, but for a few errant coughs that escaped him. Blazing eyes stared up at the Sovereign as his head was wrenched back by the hair, temper tried and fury bitten back, smoldered into a baleful sulk.
"I know," he answered, partially appeased that he and Jet were on the same page now. Jet was thinking in terms of risks and masses, populations at risk if he turned the addicted loose in the Citadel. What of Lieutenants, who could not dare to stand against a General? What of Supers, who had power at their beck, but who could not pass the threshold into the land of infinite youma? There were a hundred easy snacks in that ancient building, whose fates would be determined or terminated by sheer force of will. What then? Which was the right answer?
Jet released him, and he swallowed, coughed into his sleeve. The reflex coughs were a pest, but a blessing all the same — all the better to keep his statements short and deprived of any vitriol.
Faustite's attention found Albite when Jet spoke to him. His heart wrenched for that; he had kept the poor boy so in the dark, all to his benefit, but now that coddling ignorance was a detriment to him. Being asked for information and being found utterly inept for it — Albite hadn't deserved that, but Faustite set him up for it.
"Mirror senshi," he answered around a reflexive cough. "His magic. Don't know his sphere. Cravings, want, hunger? Roused it from dormancy." He cleared his throat, swallowed twice, checked it for sore spots.
"Looked as shocked as I was. He hadn't expected it." And he nearly died for it, too. Terrible karma, that.
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Posted: Tue Sep 13, 2022 9:25 pm
“Get gone after--,” Jet repeated Albite’s words, and then glanced over to him for confirmation. “After taking Kamacite’s starseed?”
He didn’t say it. He didn’t need to ask what would have happened if you hadn’t been there?
Jet knew what would have happened.
They would have had one less Senshi. The only Senshi who had been trusted by the Queen to know about their guests ahead of the battle on the hilltop. Not that it mattered if the Queen trusted any of them. Sylvite had been trusted as well.
The fact that Albite wasn’t worried about himself must have meant that either Albite was a naive fool, or Faustite clearly liked him more than the gloomy, dark haired Eternal that seemed to always follow Faustite around like some abused puppy that didn’t know any better and wanted nothing more than love and affection.
Perhaps he didn’t give Kamacite enough credit. Aquamarine had brought him in at the last minute to help with Ganymede’s capture, and Jet thought they were better off for it.
But Kamacite wasn’t strong enough or smart enough to avoid having his starseed taken by Faustite.
Jet wasn’t really a fan of the Mirror Senshi. He tried to avoid them. Ignored them when he could. But it was clear that no one was training them. Any senshi he met, he tried getting them to test out their magic before using it on anyone else. In a safe environment. He supposed Faustite was likely trying to do the same and didn’t expect the results.
Unlike Faustite, Jet had never had a starseed addiction. He was careful with them, knowing what they could do to a person. He was also aware that it hadn’t been Faustite’s fault. But there were also the risks to consider.
“If you take a starseed from an ally, what do you think your punishment should be? And don’t try turning this around on you should make the decision, because I have. I want to hear if your penance matches mine. But first…”
He glanced over to Albite as well. “What do you think a General’s punishment should be, if they were to murder one of our own due to an addiction that they haven’t been able to control?”
His expression was calm and voice even. There was still heat flickering in his eyes, and he hadn’t let down his guard, but it was obvious that he was serious, and that he didn’t need to say it was an order for them to respond.
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Posted: Wed Sep 14, 2022 2:56 am
All the words on Albites lips wanted to be arguments, demands for consideration of strength and will, of Senshis abilities -- Except there he ******** was, dogging the Kings heels n asking for aid because he was a Senshi -- or maybe because he was biased? Or in love? Or...
Surprised, certainly, when Jet asked Faustite what punishment he thought was deserved for all his crimes that could've been. The answer to that terrified him the most, left him to feel childishly small on the inside because he wasn't sure he was ready to hear that answer from Faustite. Certainly no more ready than he was to come up with an answer of his own.
He tried though. Managed minor fidgeting where he stood and wracked his brain for something close to right.
"If Faustite was entirely human -- n playing pied piper amongst our own -- I'd have an easy ******** answer," the thought was terrible in all it's ugly simplicity. If he'd one day come home to his team devoured and his beloved with no excuse or remorse other than 'free snacks' n 'for shits n giggles'; there wouldn't've been calls for tests of will at a Sovereigns convenience. Faustite wouldn't've needed forgiving, Albite wouldn't've been merciful. He wasn't sure either of them would have survived it, and had an eternity of lifetimes to dwell on the idea. "We'd put him down. It'd be done."
"This isn't that, though, is it? Not just some General, or man, or youma we can dust...." and if he had to stay in his self imposed corner a moment more; he couldn't, and pacing the space felt far too anxious to commit to. So Albite found one of the ratty stools that still managed to miraculously bear a load, and planted it in the middle of the room. Allowed himself to sit closer while leaving Jet between him n his boy; close as he dared lest he break rank and do something terribly stupid ---
If he just kept telling himself he'd still have his husband to hug an hour from now? It'd be fine.
"It's more than an addiction rearing up n running havoc like some unfixable thing, either. S'hard to give a clean answer, because I can't honestly say this doesn't have something to do with how the magic has affected him specifically," and Albite'd never liked when people hunted sharks, or bears, or loose dogs down just for being what they were in their habitats. The overactions to how creatures behaved when they were provoked. Albite couldn't just call his husband an addict and let it be -- He'd had an addiction, true. Had overcome. Had been incited magically n tried his best to manage. "Just imagine a team full of Senshi, Jet. Full of them. And we're all fine?" He'd called, he'd checked, they'd all pinged back some small affirmation of such, even Cela -- eventually, "I'd call what happened with Kamacite more a momentary lapse in control than an outright attempt at murder--- otherwise you'd have halls full of dead ******** n one of 'em'd surely be me," he could assume the worst of what would've happened had he not shown, but to often that made him an a**. For all he knew? He would've tasted Kama and spit him out. Would've come to his senses once he realized how important that body on the floor was to him.
Or maybe it all would've gone just as terribly as it could've, n Faustite wouldn't've survived the aftermath of doing that to his best friend, warmest eternal spot of sunshine. Albite didn't like that thought either, though. All the could've's that weren't because he just so happened to like gazing at the Rift...
"Our love doesn't make us weak, but it does lead to attempts at reason before acts of violence. That's not usually a problem for us though, is it? Cause I'm sure -- You we're heading here with a purpose, weren't you Ei'? You've always been good at that before," and he was begging now, softly, for some defense from Eion of himself, some acknowledgement of his own abilities to cope. His accomplishments with the team. Within the Negaverse itself. Albite believed in him, knew he was maybe s**t at walking away when he needed to most, could be honest in admitting how badly he liked to chew the ends of a problem raw with words until a solution spat itself out, until he found a fix. Faustite'd always been better at him than that -- knowing when to let things lie n leave -- too good at it, sometimes -- and yet together he figured they'd landed some nice happy medium, finally, a gentler push n pull that was less a chase n hunt then it had been at the start.
Faustite hadn't eaten his friend. Kamacite hadn't died. Whatever divine intervention Waru was -- if Faustite'd been too far gone? Albite didn't believe it'd have mattered.
But he wasn't supposed to be running on sentences at ridiculous length, he was supposed to be coming up with an answer....
"S'not what you asked though, is it? N I don't do hypotheticals well...Soooo...He starseed'd an ally, with intent, but maybe not entirely of his own free will? We work a solution to fit his need. Monitoring, support, a ******** muzzle if it comes to it. Let him hang here till he's a little more starved for starseeds than he is a decent meal. Then bring him back. This place's a punishment all on its own," and he wasn't happy for any of the words coming loose, clipped around them because he knew it'd be work, that slipping would be deadly. He could already see how the team'd have to come together to ensure success; he'd strip Faustites cache entirely, every subspace hidey hole, every cupboard, rock, n tree. Smother him if they had to. Keep him too busy to be hungry again....
"He ain't rabid, is the point, n if we put down every person in the citadel that was a bit touched as to resembled the crazed n murderous? Metallia'd have no army left...."
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Posted: Wed Sep 14, 2022 4:43 am
"Mm." Faustite nodded once from where he sat on the dust-ridden stone floor. "Told him to take the starseed, the boy, and go." Knew it would be best if he didn't stick around afterward. Any longer there, staring at two starseeds, and he would have tried for both. With one disassembled, the piteous reality was that Albite wouldn't have been much harder. All his magics bring his enemies closer to himself, and with Faustite being a weapon bodily, it would be the same as bringing a knife to his own throat.
Better that none of that happened. That Albite obeyed, and Kamacite was hale, if unsettled, for it.
Thinking of his friend precipitated a tightness that he had to swallow. Cleared his throat for how it kept begging for coughs to keep itself open, and Faustite had started stifling them. There would be time to reflect on Kamacite later. In worse scenarios, there would be infinite time, or no time at all and no thoughts to have. So long as Albite could carry the message of his remorse, he supposed it didn't matter as much. Still, he would've preferred that Kamacite hear it from himself.
Jet's question was an easy one. "Death," he responded while staring at the far corner of the ruined house. "Intent notwithstanding. Exceptions being the irreplaceable — Sovereigns, for example." To act otherwise about it was to tolerate the act, he had supposed. There would be no undoing the resultant death, no matter the groveling supplied. It was a more merciful decision than Schörl's too, he imagined; for the most efficient use of a starseed eater is — what, exactly? Using them for an experiment? Seeing how many starseeds fit into a person before they explode into a youma, and left to the Rift?
He knew his answer was at odds with Albite's. Albite's was the gentler, more human answer. The hopeful one that expected forgiveness for mistakes, if they could be called mistakes. He wanted so dearly to defend Faustite, to bring to light what choices he made to mitigate the damage. That he tried — always — to see the best in people was one of his greatest qualities, and one of the many reasons he had doggedly endeared himself to the burning boy.
Even though he twitched at being called Ei in front of others.
"No starseeds in the Rift," he replied, agreeing with the assessment. "Better to self-isolate until the worst passes." The worst, he had learned, was the couple days immediately following having eaten a starseed. During that time, his will had little hope of surmounting his want, and Kamacite suffered for the simple reason that his starseed was ever exposed as a Negaverse senshi. It was the only difference he could rationalize between Celadonite and Kamacite. Unless —
Had his boy's hypnotic stare somehow dismissed the possibility of starseeding him? Faustite didn't know. He knew nothing of Celadonite's ability, save for that he found it piercing and compelling.
"Most officers lack a starseed problem," Faustite amended carefully. Clawed hands meandered his own throat for lack of something else to do, now. "Knowing that one had a starseed problem — that they weren't blind to ally or enemy, but stole them in convenience when they became most desperate — would stir mutiny." Then Metallia wouldn't have an army either way.
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Posted: Wed Sep 14, 2022 7:50 pm
Jet listened to both Albite and Faustite’s answers without any real change in his expression or posture. Maybe there was a bit of exasperation as Albite brought up love doesn’t make us weak, and he tried not to roll his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded.
“An alcoholic that kills someone while driving drunk is still charged with a crime, regardless of intent,” Jet reminded Albite as he stood between the two. “Faustite was right to come here, away from any temptation.” Well, besides the Senshi that Jet brought with him.
Faustite was right that most officers lacked a starseed problem. If it was more of a problem, maybe they would have had a better solution. But Jet didn’t say that out loud. Just like he didn’t say he didn’t agree that there were exceptions when it came to justice, save for Metallia’s will.
“Do you want help, Faustite?” he asked. “You asked me for judgment, but I’m offering you help. I’ll have to do more research, so you will need to stay here until you can honestly say ‘Yes I can spit a starseed out.’ But I can see what I can do, if you want it.”
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2022 12:07 am
The press of fists over his mouth to stem words that wanted to flow; aimless, useless, torrent that they would’ve been. That they had always been before. Albite figured he hardly needed to say anything when he could cast a scathing look Faustites direction, choked, hurt, bubbling over, full of dare.
*a*** — if he’s going to ask for death he could at least look at me while he does it!!
Even if it was expected, his heart crumpled after hearing Faustite so clearly demand death, like it was the first and only answer. Like they’d run the gauntlet of options and this was the end. Albite only vaguely wondered how many lives he’d trade for Faustites own — knew that answer now totaled ‘greater than one less than twelve’ — and the idea of gallows only existed to spare Faustite the tortures he would’ve inflicted on himself for surviving the worst sort of gensocide he could’ve unwittingly committed.
That exile was an option easier for Albite to swallow on his own — if only it’d been about his wants, or just the team, or…
He wanted Faustite to have help!
But — he knew better than to put that upon his boy. Faustite had to want it for himself, not just for the team, or for his husband, or his bevy of other loves. If he didn’t do it for himself? There was no way the decision would hold the same sort of sway — and Albite couldn’t rationalize pleading the case on bent knees — if it was a burden Faustite couldn’t stand to bear— their emotions and needs.
Course he also realized that no matter how much he told himself that was the right thing to do, when it came down to it? He was bullshititng himself. It was a very nice lie to think — that he wouldn’t spend the next eternity in the Rift talking Faustite off some proverbial cliffside if that's what he needed. Even if he was doing it for less than altruistic reasons, selfishly…
“You’d do that for him?” asked with narrow eyed surprise, the ‘for us’ sat unspoken, “Is this ‘Jet the King’ offering, or Jet the very good friend; cause this whole thing is real ******** muddy with the lines....” and that wasn’t anyone’s fault, or maybe it was his? He’d never been good with boundaries and discerning people from their titles, private from public from work affairs .... “….and I wanna know who to hug. Kings get better hugs. So you’ve been warned.” spoken along the soft, wet edges of hopeful while he dragged his gaze quietly from Jet back to Faustite.
Come on firebrand —
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Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2022 1:14 pm
Faustite bided his time on answering by getting himself back on his feet. Took a moment to brush himself off, roll his wrists for the cracks and pops of ill-healed damage, assessed himself for the unstoppable tremors in his hands. He did not stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Jet, nor with Albite; they would both tower over him for as long as they lived, and Faustite still felt a margin of jealousy for that.
Finally, he nodded to Jet's offer. Just once, a nearly perfunctory thing, as if speaking an answer was itself too much.
No one had yet died to this resurgence of his addiction — no one that mattered. Civilians were in the strange spot of being both cattle and prospective allies, and Faustite didn't care to assess his marks when he was starved and wild with it. There was no evidence that they were agents, and they made no attempts to declare their war affiliation to him before he caught a handful of soul and downed it like a cache of stale jerky in the Rift. What mattered to him was that Kamacite was alive, Albite was alive, his team was alive, and the myriad nameless, faceless drones that formed the rank and file hadn't died by his hand.
It meant he wouldn't face death. For once, that was something of a relief, for it meant more time with the boys that slipped into his life unbidden.
He supposed that was something of a stress reliever for Albite, as his mouth had shot off at speed again. Faustite's attention landed on him, brows slowly furrowing as Albite went on about the differences between hugging Jet as a person and hugging Jet as a General-Sovereign, as if they weren't one in the same.
Then his attention slid over to Headache, who had helpfully become a STOP sign. Bright, bold, red, and somehow pleading. Faustite pointed to it, for once of a mind with Headache.
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Posted: Tue Sep 20, 2022 8:11 pm
“No hug is necessary,” Jet bristled uncomfortably at Albite’s threat. Or promise. Or… he didn’t know, but he was a little too pent up with energy for a hug, and in too much lingering pain to focus on trying to settle himself more than he already was.
He didn’t know if there was a difference. He would have done the same in either capacity. If he started splitting his decisions between what he would do for his friends and what he would do for anyone else, well… what kind of justice was that?
“Don’t thank me yet. He’s still not allowed to leave until he knows he can handle being around starseeds. And you’re coming with me,” he added to Albite, because he wasn’t going to just leave him in the Rift. And he wasn’t going to agree to Faustite leaving if he didn’t think he could handle his addiction around others.
“I’ll have Arles get in contact with you when we have supplies. I don’t know how long it’ll take for my research, but… I have an idea at least. Any questions?” He wasn’t just going to leave. He did want to make sure Faustite had everything he needed for hopefully only a day or two.
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Posted: Thu Sep 22, 2022 8:38 pm
Albite thought it was worth the effort to find his feet properly, n square himself at full height, just so he could flash Headache the kind of frown that emulated the middlest of fingers -- maybe even two. So severe was the look on his face as he crossed his arms tightly enough kill the heavier sigh he wanted to heave; maybe if he just stopped breathing enough to spew words. To manage that he would've needed a tighter fuku entirely, a whole iron maiden of a corset, n then enough forethought to understand why shutting up was so ******** hard! Especially when he was caught in the spoked wheel of emotional whiplash between Faustites brief little nod of assent, n Jet asking him to leave.
"Sure, no hug, but m'thanking you regardless," soft because he couldn't think past the want of being allowed to stay right then, foolish as it seemed. It was just that Faustite was still standing, alive, ruffled n looking worse for wear, but his being Alive was his biggest point of concern. That alongside fresh solutions sitting on their table were the only points of concern Albite actually cared about right then. Everything else was secondary to that --
"Getting the niceties outta the way cause m'not 'xactly keen on leaving---" softly desperate growl he loosed was aimed at the ground, where he dug his heels into divots before devolving into pacing the small space once more, casting woefull eyes at Jet's hands, Faustites throat -- "Can't Arles watch me? Like -- for a day? Twelve hours? A night? I promise Faustite'll walk me b--..." and he ate the sylables because Faustite wasn't walking him through any halls anywhere. Maybe it was better to say that Celadonite would've, or better not to say anything at all -- silence n valor n some old saying close enough to ring bells n such.
"Okay, not that, the walking back part -- but the staying -- n then when everything's ready I wanna know if I can come with you, n whoever Arles is?" Who Arles was was probably the first thing he should've asked, but that seemed silly even as he spoke it out into the open air n stopped mid stride to stare -- at everything and nothing at all -- like the whole of the scrabbling, dusty, Rift would fill his head with assurances minus the wait time.
He really wanted to hug someone.....
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