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 Posted: Sat Apr 15, 2023 6:59 am
Aquamarine let Jet take his hand, let him hold it, let him squeeze it, let him do whatever he wished to relieve his own sadness or disappointment. Aquamarine didn’t need the comfort. Faustite wasn’t a friend. He wasn’t family. Aquamarine had no personal stake in this whatsoever. He’d been there to do a job. A sense of failure ate at him, a wave of frustration almost had him snapping at Heliodor, but it wasn’t care, or concern. The irritation and resentment came from duty, not from any positive regard he might have for a fellow General.
“Now we’ll never know what could’ve come from it,” Aquamarine muttered.
He saw no reason to be peaceable like Jet. Let Kamacite do the shouting and spew the accusations for once. He wasn’t wrong.
Aquamarine sent a sharp glare in Heliodor’s direction. He didn’t think he needed to say it, that Heliodor could expect a full, detailed report and whatever repercussions that led to. Aquamarine had made himself clear before, when they’d discussed the plan.
Jet summoned his weapon — protective. Aquamarine disentangled their hands and grasped his own again, ready to assist.
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Posted: Sat Apr 15, 2023 7:00 am
Cymophane understood Kamacite’s distress. He understood the accusation in his tone, the territorial claim he seemed to stake against Heliodor. He might not know everything, didn’t often pry into Kamacite’s past when it became clear to him that Kamacite didn’t like to speak of it, but he understood. He did. Faustite was important to Kamacite in ways Cymophane could never replicate.
He almost let go, almost let Kamacite do whatever he wished. Maybe lunging at Heliodor would ease some of the pain. Maybe taking a swing at him would bring Kamacite some mild sense of satisfaction. But there was no time for it. Cymophane knew that, too, just as he knew Kamacite would regret it, if whatever old pain drove the reaction took him away from Faustite’s side in what would be his last moments as a General.
Cymophane took Kamacite’s weight, led him along. He didn’t shush Kamacite, didn’t offer any sort of admonishment or reassurance. Neither were necessary. All Cymophane could do was be there, remind Kamacite with a touch of his hand or a squeeze of his arm that he wasn’t alone.
This was an ending, and a painful one, but it wasn’t the end.
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Posted: Sat Apr 15, 2023 7:01 am
Roselite flinched at Kamacite’s rage, even though it wasn’t directed at him. He shied away from Aquamarine’s glare, even though it was directed at someone else. Maybe there was blame to be given; that wasn’t for Roselite to say. What mattered now was what they were losing.
Faustite was in pain. Was he afraid of what was happening to him, of what would become of him? Roselite couldn’t imagine what it must be like, didn’t want to. To lose the rest of what made him human, his last tether to anything that might feasibly be considered a normal life… To become something other, something Faustite had gone to great lengths to avoid by seeking out the aid of their enemies…
Roselite stumbled along. He gave little thought to where they were going, how nerve-wracking the Rift had always been. He let the tears fall because halting them was an impossibility. He brought up the rear; he didn’t have the sort of relationship with Faustite that the others did, didn’t deserve those last moments with him.
What good could he do?
The thought struck him as he watched both Jet and Aquamarine ready their weapons. Roselite’s gaze flicked from them to the others — all Senshi.
Roselite swallowed down the lump in his throat. He scurried closer, so that Faustite might see him, might hear him through the pain.
“I… I don’t have a youma of my own,” he said.
He couldn’t say more than that. He felt pathetic even voicing that much, wondered if it was insensitive to suggest, if the others might think he was trying to benefit from this. He wasn’t. He hoped that was apparent in the soft tone of his voice.
It was the only sort of comfort Roselite thought he could give.
I would be kind to you, he meant, but couldn’t say. He hoped it came through anyway. I would protect you. You would be my friend, not a tool for me to use. I would help you, in whatever way I could.
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Posted: Sat Apr 15, 2023 7:07 am
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Posted: Sat Apr 15, 2023 10:25 am
Kamacite’s words struck like a physical blow. Helio winced visibly. It was well placed and he wasn't going to argue or say anything about it. But, he wasn't going to let someone else dictate what he could or could not do at that moment. Even if he could physically get close, even if his tears dried as quickly as they came due to the heat emanating from Faustite, he was determined to see it through; To witness the loss of his husbands humanity even if it would rip a hole inside of his chest to watch knowing he ruined the chance of stopping it.
Faustite's screams were gut wrenching and Helio looked to Albite who had placed himself into the situation as well. Looking to have that final time, to help ease and comfort. Helio had an incredible desire to wrap his arms around the man. Let him weep out the pain Helio knew was tearing him up inside. He just wanted to offer some sort of comfort. Take the pain away from the boy writhing against Taenite’s chest.
Jets attempt to diffuse the situation only worsened it for the super. An attempt to placate the anger. Perhaps he was right, but Aquamarine was right that they didn't know. Wouldn't have the chance to know. Helio didn't miss the look tossed his way by the General. Another well deserved promise. Vaguely he wondered the extent of what would happen to him. Would it be what he would expect from Schorl for such a blunder?
Faustite's screaming was consistent. Helio wondered how the boy even had any vocal chords left to continue with. ********. ********! How had it all come to this?! Why were they forced to rely on their enemies to fix this. Why couldn't the negaverse find a solution? They had Metallica for ******** sake! Surely she could?!
Taenite began moving at a clip, and Helio realized not long after Albite made chase what was likely to happen. “********.” He said quietly, following after, expecting some of the others would likely follow suit. Especially those who could actually step foot where they as senshi should not tread. Who knew what would happen if Taenite made that attempt! Did the silver-haired senshi think that Faustite would want him to take that risk?!
Helio couldn't even take pleasure in seeing Albite grab at the cocky b*****d senshi to stop him. He was sure that, if Faustite hadn't been in Taenite's arms, Albite would have tackled Taenite to the ground. “Are you intending on just walking in with him?.” He remarked, sadly. Not an inkling of anger or accusation. The whole scene was painful. Meanwhile Faustite’s prone, shifting form continued to change in Taenite’s arms as fire and heat continued growing.
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Posted: Sat Apr 15, 2023 11:17 am
Corrupt Super FafnirNow they were all running and Fafnir ran with them, smoldering and seething, but still aware enough to keep himself near enough to the General King for his protection. Even if that kept him perhaps further from his brother… At the moment, Fafnir had no desire to risk his own skin for someone who had ruined everything if that someone chose to step too far away from safety. Past the Hall of Shadows was the Rift. It stank of dark rocks and decay, slithering in the shadows. Youma, waiting for people like him to step too far away from companions and make themselves easy prey.
And all he could do, amidst his frustration and anger, was watch as it all happened, and follow. That ate at him as much as anything else… ever the shadow, hovering at the edges.
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Posted: Sat Apr 15, 2023 12:48 pm
By the time they reached the doors to the Rift, the burning boy's screaming had abated. He was reduced to scraping in rasping breaths as his energy to exist dwindled. The Hall had only grown hotter.
Even if Taenite heeled, even if Jet kept up to cover the lot with his aura and abjure the youma in the area to leave them be, it would not stop the transformation for the boy in Taenite's arms. They had trialed and toiled and learned that their only known key to stopping this condition lay with the enemy — the selfsame enemy that distrusted them in kind. The same enemy that wanted him cajoled and corralled into their homes where he would exist as a confused, if solemn, young adult. Where he would live as a Knight with a name that was to be determined.
For what little he could think beyond the pain, Faustite preferred this way. The pain would be temporary. He would never truly leave the people he cared about, even if they had to be chaperoned to see him. And while he would be less useful to the Negaverse, youma still had their place.
As Roselite had mentioned that he had no youma, Faustite looked back at him, lurid eyes setting on him for the offer they made. It warmed him to know that they were already making solutions.
It took only steps off the threshold to the Rift for the worst to begin. His fires had been steadily growing, enough that they had tried to obstruct Taenite's view, but now they began to ravel off of him in a way that often prefaced Faustite's magic. The heat grew to blistering levels, chapping skin and sucking the moisture out of hair. His grate was hot enough to turn brilliant while flame spewed past it. Fire began to arc into the air as a phoenician sign of what was to come.
Then a Rift crystal erupted from the ground in a nigh instantaneous encapsulation of the burning boy. The earthen cacophony in its wake was deafening. Smaller, narrower mineral sprays burst out of the largest chunk, chasing the swirling fire as if to secure every scrap of the youma portion of the boy, to the sound to panes of glass coming together. The strange, swirling formation halted mere inches from the Senshi of Fire Whirls. The fire within the violet formation illuminated it with a diffuse glow, making plain the motionless youth inside.
But the youth yet had a General's signature.
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