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 Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 3:43 am
When Arles crawled from the pot, he looked like something form one of Hina's games — one of the hentai ones where one wins over the scantily-clad boys and girls with fluffy tails and animal ears. Some of them had dog or cat paws for hands, and Arles landed in that same vein of uncanny valley for Faustite.
Well, he did say a change in form. He didn't specify that it would be better. Perhaps they would have more success with the weapon fusion.
"Hope he's still useful to you," he said to Jet. He'd be able to manipulate more objects that way, at least. Open doors for Jet, shake hands, maybe hold a small weapon if Jet saw fit to give him one. Whatever. Jet would figure it out. He'd gotten this far in having a youma around without needing to ask him for anything; Faustite imagined that he wouldn't suddenly need Faustite's counsel now or in the future.
He hadn't expected that sort of voice out of the harpy girl, though he wasn't sure what to expect from her. Flirtatious thing, as much as a youma could imitate. Faustite was, once again, shocked that Aquamarine wasn't trying to dust her for deigning to touch him or rest her head on his shoulder. Too many firsts today; he was starting to wonder if he was hallucinating. Could be that whatever afflicted him had taken his mind, and all of this nonsense was just an illusion. Could be lying comatose at the foot of the crucible, with Galvorn wondering what to do with him, all while he dreamt up some absurdist nightmare.
Faustite blinked, then coughed into his sleeve again.
"Right," Faustite conceded. He touched the terminal again, and a few commands later, the dagger hung by its braided light had retracted closer to the ceiling. "Youma goes in the crucible. When the lid shuts, weapon goes on top of the glass tray on the lid. Should either lay flat or float in some kind of magnetic stasis.
"Dagger will do most of the work for us. It's more energy intensive, but in theory, end result's worthwhile. I'll pay the tax again," he offered, then gestured to the crucible for one of them to get started.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 6:29 am
Arles continued to grin, looking down at his clawed hands, then at his tattered clothes, though not tattered enough that he wasn’t still modestly dressed.
He seemed more interested in his own appearance than the strange bird girl that rested her head on Aquamarine’s shoulder, although he seemed to acknowledge that yes, he was beautiful.
Jet wrinkled his nose a bit at the strange form his youma now had. There was a weird heaviness he felt that he couldn’t explain. Maybe because he preferred the dog that couldn’t talk -- except for in his head.
“Is that how you feel about youma, Faustite?” he asked after a moment, pulling his eyes away from the stars and shadows to look at the sickly, burning young man. There was sincerity in his voice, indicating that he was genuinely curious about Faustite’s opinion.
“Youma should be useful?”
He looked at Aquamarine then, and his youma, before gesturing to the crucible. It was only fair that he had a chance to try it out, but if he refused then Jet would have Arles jump in again.
“You thought we should have gotten rid of Galvorn,” he reflected, arms crossed casually over his chest, not in a way that looked defensive. Maybe if they had gotten rid of Galvorn instead of trying to reason with him, Aquamarine wouldn’t have gotten hurt.
“I’m not all knowing, you know,” he frowned. “I’m sorry if I made a mistake. I’m sorry you both got hurt.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 7:30 am
Jet spoke primarily to Faustite, but Aquamarine still answered with a roll of his eyes. “I’ve been hurt worse.”
They were all of them scarred. Some from loss. Some from pain. Some from both. Some of them had become so mangled as to be beyond recognition. War was violent, and unkind. Aquamarine was fortunate to be alive long before they entered Galvorn’s chambers the first time. He was fortunate to leave them relatively intact, and to return again now.
“You wanted to try. It was worth an effort,” Aquamarine reassured him, though his voice might not necessarily sound reassuring. He wasn’t always comfortable with kindness, particularly in the presence of other people. “Maybe it was the wrong choice. Who the ******** knows. I didn’t hear many other suggestions being offered. Most of them would rather b***h and moan behind your back.
“Alys. You heard him. Into the magic pot.”
With another delicate sigh, Alys left Aquamarine. She shed a few feathers as she went, pausing only briefly to cast her vacant stare onto Faustite. The light of his fire danced within her black eyes.
“Beautiful. Beautiful,” she whispered to herself, shuffling her way to the crucible.
Incredulity filtered into Aquamarine’s expression. He didn’t know whether to laugh at her absurdity or lament his ties to her.
Dutifully, Alys climbed in. The lid shut. Aquamarine approached. His rapier left his hip. The accompanying dagger left the sheath at his back. He gripped both in his hands. They were familiar, effective. He knew their weight. He knew first hand the pain they could cause, how easily they could pierce flesh. They were deadly tools. Intrigued as he was by the prospect of another, it wasn’t easy to part with them — these blades to which he’d become so attached.
With something like reverence, Aquamarine placed them onto the glass tray.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 12:04 pm
"How I feel about youma doesn't matter," he answered simply. He leaned against the wall, tempted to massage his shoulder, but he knew that would lead to a poor outcome. "I'm not the one who governs them, or chooses what happens to them." He had one foot in their camp, but to most officers, that didn't make him an authority. No one went looking to him to know what should be done with youma. No one went looking to Amazonite or Celadonite or Carnotite, either.
"But if you want my opinion, ask when we're done." Better that they didn't get distracted just yet.
His attention shifted to Jet when he spoke. "No one died," he returned. Then he looked back at the crucible. "Yes. Imagine that wouldn't have meant the same thing to him as to an established youma, though. Didn't seem to realize what had happened to him. Must've thought it was all an illusion." He shrugged, single-shouldered.
"There's no easy answer about it. Irritating that he ended himself, but I suspect he gained a moment of clarity that he wouldn't have gotten in a fight." Faustite doubted that he would've given up his secrets in either case. He was youma in body, but not in mind just yet; chatting with him was better suited to someone like Jet or Albite had he not been attacked. Faustite acknowledged that he wouldn't be a good pick for negotiation at that juncture. If he recognized he was a youma, however, then Faustite would have been more comfortable speaking with him. It was a strange distinction, but a necessary one.
Faustite watched the next one, Alys, venture toward the crucible. However, he was visibly disturbed when she said beautiful at him. He told himself it had to be a consequence of timing — she was looking at him, but thinking or talking about someone else.
Faustite waited. coughed. Watched Aquamarine follow his instructions, as much as they were instructions and not postulations.
"It won't be forever," he added as he watched Aqua hesitate. "Takes energy to piece those two together. That bond has to run out of energy, too." Faustite pressed his palm to the tablet and waited, felt the humming in his bones lessen for the amount of energy it pulled from him.
At first, nothing followed. Then, a pearl of greater brightness traveled down the braid of light, settling into the hilt of the ornate dagger. Instigating its glow. Then, the strange writing on the blade ran red, and from its tip dripped a pure energy. The droplets came more frequently, then it poured into the blades that then glowed white-hot. The brilliance of it was maddening; Faustite squinted away, wondering if perhaps they'd gotten the ritual wrong.
There was nothing for it but to wait.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 12:16 pm
Again, Jet watched Faustite. It wasn’t with suspicion, necessarily. Faustite’s insistence on using his own energy could have been anything. Maybe he was just attempting to be as efficient as possible. Or maybe he was doing it as a way to purposefully run out his energy.
The fact that no one died was at least somewhat of a relief. Their last adventure into the Scar didn’t have the same results. Still, the more he observed the others in the Negaverse, the more he wondered just how different his experience had been, or if it was just in their nature that they were prone to violence.
It didn’t matter, he decided. And as frustrating as the whole experience had been, there was at least a brief moment that Jet felt some relief that Galvorn did have his own choice to end himself.
He watched as Aquamarine sent Alys to the pot, watched as he placed his rapier and dagger on the lid. Arles was still busy admiring himself and cackling under his breath. Jet did seem to notice a flick of Arles’ dark eyes looking over at Faustite and Alys when she cooed over Faustite’s apparent beauty, but it could have also been a trick of the light.
Jet placed his hand on the small of Aquamarine’s back in what was supposed to be a reassuring gesture, but even he had to shield his eyes when the energy’s light grew too bright. Arles hissed and shrunk away into the corners of the room, touched less by the light.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 12:21 pm
Faustite’s reassurance, if it could be called that, was only a small relief. Aquamarine didn’t like to be without his weapons, even for the comparatively short amount of time it took for the ritual to progress.
After Sessrumnir, Aquamarine kept them close. When he was on the field, they were sheathed until needed. When he was in his office, they were within easy reach. He only dismissed them when he powered down, and that was only because he had no choice. Perhaps he’d become paranoid, but Aquamarine thought it justified. He’d been unable to summon them, once. He didn’t want to be put in that position again.
He stood close, anxiously waiting. His fingers flexed, hands hanging empty and useless at his sides. Aquamarine squinted against the light but didn’t shy away from it. From within the crucible, he thought he heard a coo and a flutter of wings, soon lost beneath a building hum. The hand at his back, though not unwelcome, went unanswered. Aquamarine only looked away when the light grew so bright as to be almost unbearable.
Then it faded. Aquamarine blinked through the spots in his vision. Where he’d left his rapier and dagger, he found a scythe.
It bore similarities to his usual weapons. The long handle was black like the hilts had been, and decorated with small stones like his namesake. The rest seemed more like Alys in design — a blade like a beak framed by black feathers, and a pommel shaped like the taloned foot of a bird.
Aquamarine looked between Jet and Faustite, then took the scythe in hand, testing the weight of it. The unease bled from his expression. He looked over his new weapon admiringly, lips twitching into a smirk.
“You think I could take out a Princess with this?” he asked, only half serious.
He remembered the Queen, back when she’d only been a General-Queen, slaughtering their enemies when they’d invaded the Dark Kingdom.
“I’ll have to ask the Queen for some pointers,” he said.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 1:18 pm
Faustite wasn't certain what would come of this weapon fusion. They had theorized it, yes, and arrived at an appropriate means for how to do so, but none of the available help were in any position to initiate such a transaction themselves. Two were senshi, two were Lieutenants, and one was more interested in the crucible itself than the youma that crawled inside of it. Faustite had no weapon of his own, nor did he expect Headache would be so easily cajoled into a pot that would take away its bodily autonomy.
Perhaps it meant that Aquamarine and Alys, or Jet and Arles, were far more suited to each other than Faustite and Headache. Or, those youma were better trained than his. He would've preferred it meant nothing at all, though.
As Aquamarine walked through the motions and the room brightened, Faustite shut his eyes to it. His brow furrowed as he wondered if he misspoke the theory, or if the theory was wrong and they were ending a youma. For that, his adrenaline spiked. Then the light died down. Aquamarine approached the crucible again. He retrieved his weapons, now unified as one scythe with embellishments that harkened back to the youma that made this change possible.
It was thrilling, even if the end result was something that he detested. He could keep his opinions on handheld lawn mowers to himself, however.
The comment about the Queen made that difficult. Faustite twitched; he was certain the Queen had such a poor and easily countered weapon solely for the purpose of showing off her combat prowess. He needed to keep his mouth shut if he wanted something like this signed off on, though, so he chewed his tongue and waited for the urge to choose violence to pass.
"Don't know how long it lasts, so keep tabs on it for me. Same for Arles," he added to Jet. "Take the day to test it out. It's all quite new, and we've not had any test subjects until you two. Need to gather as much data as we can. Plan to talk about it at the debrief.
"Need to finish renovations in the interim. Plan to return this place to the Negaverse's operations as the Transverse Workshop and divest it of Galvorn's ownership."
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 1:25 pm
While they waited for whatever result the crucible and magic would give them, Jet kept his hand lightly on Aquamarine’s back. It was as subtle as he always was when it came to physical affection, but with Faustite being the only agent around, he didn’t feel the need to be quite as secretive.
When the light faded, Jet finally allowed himself to look where the crucible had been with youma and weapons, but instead saw the scythe.
He’d never worked with a scythe before, but the Queen made it look effortless. And the look that crossed Aquamarine’s expression could only make him assume that he was thinking the same. Especially when he suggested asking the Queen for pointers.
“We’ll practice with it. Anything to keep ahead of those White Moon bastards,” he decided. “Maybe they’ll remember Her Majesty’s abilities and it’ll traumatize them into inaction.” He could only hope. It wasn’t as though any of them knew what to expect from merging youma with weapon, and it wasn’t as though Aquamarine had much of a choice for the weapon that appeared. They would work with what they had, and would become better for it.
Jet pressed his lips together in mild amusement. He was tempted to repeat what he’d said to Faustite before the mission even started and make him follow up his request with a ’please’. As it was, they’d been through enough over the past few days.
“Yes, sir,” he said instead, and while there was amusement in his voice, it wasn’t mocking. “You think Axinite and his snake would want to visit this place?” He couldn’t stop the grin entirely as he glanced over at Aquamarine again.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 1:27 pm
“If you can pry Axinite away from his desk,” Aquamarine countered, sharing Jet’s amusement.
If he noticed Faustite’s twitch, or that he didn’t seem exactly pleased by something (The results? Their company? Something entirely unrelated to their presence there?), Aquamarine chalked it up to stress and fatigue and Faustite being Faustite. He didn’t know that he’d ever seen Faustite truly pleased about anything. Aquamarine didn’t like to think of moodiness and dissatisfaction as a commonality between them, but he also couldn’t deny that there wasn’t often much to be pleased about.
The scythe was… different. He didn’t know what he’d expected. Another sword, perhaps. Something his experience with a rapier and dagger would give him an advantage in using. He thought a scythe might be cumbersome, that it required a certain level of expertise to be made effective — an expertise he didn’t have. But if he could master it the way the Queen clearly had…
Aquamarine adjusted his grip. He tested it briefly — a single slow, careful swing through the air.
Regardless of the form his own weapon took, the ability itself would give them an edge.
“It’s good work,” he said, briefly meeting Faustite’s eye.
It wasn't quite a compliment. It didn’t even sound like encouragement. Aquamarine said it in the same offhand way someone might comment about the weather, delivering it with a flat-eyed stare. He imagined his opinion mattered as much to Faustite as it did to nearly everyone else — which was very little or not at all.
Even so, Aquamarine could give credit where credit was due.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 5:58 pm
It sounded like Jet and Aquamarine were making do with what came of it. Jet was already making plans on how they would train, who they would ask, what benefits it would offer them. Aquamarine was — Aquamarine, but in a way that had Faustite second-guessing what he was hearing. What came out of his mouth wasn't a complaint, which led Faustite to distrust his ears. It sounded like it could've been a complement, if someone with a less incorrigible disposition said it with a modicum of uplift and interest. But he didn't think Aquamarine knew how to fake interest, nor would he bother, so what he heard that sounded like good work must've been something else entirely.
Faustite blinked, coughed, then looked back at the scythe. He wondered if they would find it a mistake to fold one's youma into the weapon. It would render the youma inaccessible until the weapon itself was broken back apart, but there was little he could do for that now. Seldom did he see agents fighting alongside their youma companions as it was; he knew he was guilty of leaving Headache in the Rift on many occasions.
Far be it for him to wish a personal youma's death on anyone else. Doing something like this might put more youma at risk for how they might be taken into the field more often. Or, this could become some esoteric art that only a few practiced. Certainly he couldn't take advantage of it, and he was one of the ones that contributed to its founding.
Not that it bothered him (it bothered him). Faustite sighed through his nose.
"So — what do you think?" He asked their General King. "Know it's only just happened, but I'm sure you can extrapolate its strengths. Or faults." Faustite watched Jet. "You've seen the proof of concept, now. Think it's worthwhile for us to finish it up and make it available?"
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 8:01 pm
Jet watched Aquamarine as he tested out the new weapon. The new merged weapon. He could see characteristics of Aquamarine’s youma in the shape of the scythe, and they knew the youma was still there, since Aqua wasn’t in the pain associated with the death of a bonded youma.
The question from Faustite almost surprised him, but he’d gotten used to Faustite needing direct and concise responses rather than implied.
“I think it would be worthwhile to finish it up and make it available to others,” Jet said in hopes of reassuring him. This way Faustite couldn’t misinterpret his words.
“What do you think, Arles-- what are you doing…”
Jet had turned to see what his youma had been getting up to in his new form. As it was, he was currently working on unbuttoning the vest and shirt on his chest. Arles glanced up and flashed them a canine’s grin of sharp teeth.
“I have a new body. Am I not allowed to inspect what it looks like?” he asked, which resulted in a grimace from Jet.
“Please do that later,” he requested and turned away from the shrugging youma with a shake of his head. At least with hands, Arles could pick things up instead of relying on someone else or using his mouth.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 8:06 pm
Another leisurely, deliberate swing. Aquamarine was at least satisfied with the weight of the scythe. They would test the rest, determine how best to utilize a weapon so vastly different from what he’d spent all these years mastering. He wasn’t disappointed, just cautious. He didn’t want to be caught on the field with a weapon he hadn’t yet learned.
He knew his sword and dagger. He knew Jet’s bladed polearm, and now his glaive. He would know this, too, with practice.
The more tools they had at their disposal, the better their advantage.
“That’s a yes,” Aquamarine said — perhaps unnecessarily, but the exchange between Faustite and Jet didn’t pass without some mild amusement on his part. He concealed most of it behind a level stare, though his mouth twitched into a brief smirk.
Becoming a General King hadn’t changed much about Jet. Not yet, anyway. He still intruded, couldn’t sit back and let things unfold; he sought some measure of control, threw his weight around with some noble idea that he was saving people or bettering the Negaverse as a whole, then acted confused when others thought it necessary to seek his approval, as if it hadn’t been made clear with his promotion that he had the Queen’s approval. He wasn’t their peer any longer; he was their superior officer. No matter how much he might like to pretend as if authority wasn’t a desire of his, his actions proved otherwise, and his rank made it inescapable. Others had clearly taken note of that fact.
Aquamarine looked between Jet and Faustite, but ultimately decided not to issue any further comment on the subject.
“You think this’ll be enough to end all the bitching and moaning about the outcome of the mission?” he asked instead. “Ungrateful pricks’ll get some new toys out of it.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2023 8:43 pm
"Understood." Faustite nodded, briefly, to Jet's assessment. "Will let the others know."
His attention lighted on Arles, both completely unsurprised and unbothered by his antics. Faustite kept mum on what he experienced in the Rift on his own, but his expression turned fleetingly saturnine as he watched Arles. Faustite kept his jaw set, his posture tight in the presence of his superior, even as a cough escaped him. Its plume of smoke meandered upward, catching the projected light from the twice-used crucible.
Not all things needed to yield to human inquisitiveness. He could still remember Tanzanite's words of warning, heeded via Wolframite's ears. There was much more to being a youma than most officers understood, and it wasn't their place to dissect it until they thought they knew it.
Aquamarine's question received an easy answer. "No. But this might distract them." If he could downplay the weaknesses in the mission and spend more time on its strengths, then perhaps there wouldn't be as much unrest. Hard to say; he never could get a good read on people.
"Let's head back," he invited. "Need to contact the others. Already booked the time for the debrief to light a fire under their asses." His included, but a fire under his a** wasn't much different than the fire over it. He'd had enough reasons to stay engaged with this project, regardless; it was another reason for officers to see youma as having more meaning, and value, to the ends they pursued. Perhaps, then, this endeavor would garner them more protection than one lone General.
Faustite spared a last look at the scythe in Aquamarine's hands, then at the humanized version of Arles, before he made for the elevator.
They had only a few solid days before the debrief; better that they didn't waste any more time.sunshine alouette fin! tysm, both of you, for volunteering!
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