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 Posted: Fri Dec 18, 2020 1:26 pm
Narcissus is apparently not impressed with Rakovanite's self-care practices. Doesn't stop them from making out, though.
South of the Border Status ▼ Complete PRP Post Count ▼ 12
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2021 5:47 pm
Rakovanite and Narcissus spend a little too much time glowing in the forest and not enough time trying to escape the unfortunate nighttime predicament.
Real or Not Real Status ▼ Ongoing PRP Post Count ▼ 1
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2021 5:51 pm
Everyone manages to escape inside, but only barely. The monster knows where they're hiding, and it is intent on scaring them out. This shelter is really starting to feel more like a cage.
Boarded Status ▼ Ongoing PRP Post Count ▼ 1
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2021 5:53 pm
The group is spent from a long night, and no one even has the wherewithal to think about how they'll make it through the next. Rakovanite sort of feels like it probably doesn't matter that much. Everything is hopeless.
Badlands Status ▼ Ongoing Battle Post Count ▼ 1
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2021 5:57 pm
Whelp, he didn't get away. Imagine that. Rakovanite wakes to find that he and all the other missing people are being collected in some cellar confinement. For what purpose, he has no idea. But the monser conciously chose not to kill them for some reason.
The Underground Prison Status ▼ Ongoing PRP Post Count ▼ 1
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2021 6:24 pm
In a freak accident, the prison is broken open by... a falling tree? The destruction summons the other villagers, and everyone must work together to defeat the monster and return home.
One Foggy Night Status ▼ Complete ORP Post Count ▼ 7
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2021 6:28 pm
Rakovanite didn't have very much time to explore being a captain before he was abducted to the strange village. Now back home and fully recovered, he tries to be a "responsible" adult and tend to Negaverse chores. Lopezite is there. Haven't seen him in about a year.
Branching Out Status ▼ Ongoing PRP Post Count ▼ 1
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2021 6:30 pm
Rakovanite must make concessions when dealing with wayward senshi.
A Handful Status ▼ Complete PRP Post Count ▼ 8
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2021 6:33 pm
Rakovanite would almost never see reason to interfere with a youma out hunting. Almost.
Watch Me As I Fall Status ▼ Ongoing Battle Post Count ▼ 1
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Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2021 6:40 pm
▼ x Setting Sights x ▼ From the very beginning, Rakovanite had known that he didn't want to be in this the way so many of his peers were. He didn't want to be afraid of hurting anyone, or unwilling to perform his duties, or scared of what he'd become, or ungrateful for what he'd received. He'd wanted to be a part of the Negaverse. It spared him from being a victim of whatever other uncontrollable forces plagued Destiny City. When you wanted something, it stood to reason you'd have to pay for it.
Nothing was free. Rakovanite didn't mind surrendering "normalcy" for some of the Negaverse's power. He didn't mind being the type of person so many others refused to be if it meant he could feel useful, welcome, maybe even necessary somewhere...
He'd always been "not right," and if that was how people were going to perceive him, he might as well put those attributes somewhere they could be of use.
Two Halloweens ago, barely a month into his initial corruption, a woman had spotted him standing outside of campus with his Negaverse tablet pen clipped to his shirt. He had not been in his powered guise, and she'd berated him for it. Secrecy was important. Don't show anything you don't have to. They had kept decent contact since then, enough for Nat to recognize her as a civilian and as a general for Infiltration, and she was familiar enough with what he wanted. She was his university advisor, after all. She knew what he wanted in many respects.
She'd arranged for him to meet with another general, one from Special Operatives who tended to be picky with his own recruits. It wasn't often Lashenite took on a pupil, as having trainees directly under you tended to limit how many assignments you could effectively perform. Time spent training newbies was time not spent facing the enemy.
But she'd worked hard to convince Lashenite that Rakovanite would be worth the effort, and she'd informed Nataniel that she would be furious if he ruined all her hard work.
He'd wanted this. He wanted to prove how much he wanted this. Rakovanite had said "whatever it takes" when he'd been corrupted, and then when he'd been promoted. Whatever it takes to wield this power and excel. He meant it. He wanted this.
Rakovanite stood within Negaspace's castle's walls, dark eyes held stiffly on the closed door to Lashenite's office in front of him. He felt confident the general could sense him there, even without knocking, so he couldn't linger for long without announcing himself, but Rakovanite recognized when a task was about to be strenuous. Meeting with people, trying to win them over... It wasn't his forte. Not for the first time, he wished the people who'd corrupted him had just taken an interest in him then and invested time into his training, so he wouldn't have to shuffle about looking for people who could turn him away.
But there was no sense wishing. That hadn't been what happened.
He knocked, and the brisk, low rumble of, "Enter," was almost immediate. Rakovanite did.
The man seated at the desk looked absolutely ordinary in every way. He had short, dull brown hair, tanned skin, a rough patch of five o'clock shadow growing on his jaw. He didn't look built in the way Rakovanite may have expected of a combat specialist, but his uniform was long and hanging off of him, making it difficult to tell much of what was beneath from the neck down. Lashenite turned pale green eyes to blink in Rakovanite's direction, as if he might be confused to see him there.
And Rakovanite couldn't stop his own uncertain eyebrow quirk as he stared back at the man, as if waiting for-?
He didn't know, but since Lashenite looked confused, he introduced himself, "I am Rakovanite. One of the other generals set us up to meet today."
"Today? Now?" Lashenite's gaze flit from Rakovanite, to the papers stacked before him, to the computer screen where he was inputting some kind of information. His voice was different. Rakovanite's brow furrowed. The man had only said three words to him, but they sounded so different. One low and rolling, and this one quieter, a bit higher. Uncertain.
Rakovanite studied the man in confusion. "Yes," he replied, unsure himself now. "If it is inconvenient for you, we could schedule another time, or perhaps correspondence through the tablet would be easier.
"Uh, no, no. This doesn't need to take long. We can just talk for a few minutes. You said your name was Rakovanite? I'm Lashenite. Evellyn said you were thinking of becoming a Special Operatives agent? Why is that? Oh, sit, sit, if you'd like." He gestured with a brisk flap of his arm toward a pair of chairs situated at the end of his desk.
Rakovanite eyed the chairs and moved to stand closer to them, but sitting somehow seemed unwise. He stood and stared oddly back at the general. "It would be the most suitable for me, I think," he answered flatly. "I am not very good with people. The Intelligence officers I have worked with were capable of tempering the opposition they came across, from outright hostile to merely wary. The Infiltration agents can win over people with the twist of a word." And it was obvious Rakovanite didn't excel in anything that involved mingling among others."...I do not have those abilities," he murmured softly.
Pale green eyes watched him, studying Rakovanite where he stood. "You could stay with General Operatives. There's no shame in that."
"No," Rakovanite agreed lightly. "But I would rather explore if I had the potential for a more specific use, and there is really only one option."
"Hm." Lashenite's fingers thrummed on the edge of his desk. His scrutinizing expression scraped down Rakovanite's frame. "You know it isn't really a branch suitable for everyone? Specs is easily the most romanticized, the most flashy and dangerous. Hotheaded lieutenants think the easiest way to prove their metal is by joining Specs and slaughtering any enemy they come across. For anyone who wants to get into a fight and prove that they can win, it seems appropriate to be in a branch that initiates the most fights. They don't usually realize how much more goes into it than that. They can beat people up who are trying to hurt them, but fall short when the opponent is weak and gentle teenage girls."
"And then there are those who fight without conscience: reckless, abusive, messy. They don't have the care for discretion or the forethought for tactics. They leave a bad image that Infiltration has to clean up later. We've got a lot of both, though neither are ideal."
They were staring at each other, now, with Rakovanite trying desperately to clean what he was supposed to say to make a favorable impression in this encounter, and Lashenite studying him in an almost nonchalant way. He could have said he wasn't really looking to start fights, or that he was only interested in efficiency above all else. He didn't need flashy, but Rakovanite didn't think it mattered what he said about himself in this encounter.
It was just talk. It wouldn't prove anything. He needed to show Lashenite which "type" he was, if given the chance. He cleared his throat. "Which are you?" Rakovanite asked instead.
Lashenite's face lit in amusement, pale green eyes widening just slightly as a grin split his face. "Probably a dab of both when I joined," he admitted. "I've grown out of the worst of it, though. The years start to wear on you, after a while. Anyway, let's not keep you much longer."
"When do you have class?" He asked abruptly.
"Graduated last month."
"Work?"
"I intern at the hospital from seven to four during the weekdays."
Lashenite flicked open his tablet and within a few taps, Rakovanite's own was pinging that he'd received a message.
"A lot of generals don't do the whole "compatibility testing" when allowing captains to enter a new branch, but I honestly think it's just because they're lazy and don't want to turn away any recruits. I think nothing is more stupid. Infiltration officers should be witty and charming. Intelligence should be- well, intelligent and deceptive. Officers who don't have appropriate qualities should be turned away until they've honed the necessary skills." He tapped his tablet and gestured to where Rakovanite's had gone off. "I've sent you a message with a location to meet me tomorrow evening for your... initiation experiment. I hope it works with your availability. Please try not to be late. I'm not really big on offering second chances."
Rakovanite's focus slid down to his tablet, where he opened the message to see that they were to meet near a... Red Lobster? His brows knit, and his gaze darted back to Lashenite as he began to insist that he didn't want to partake in any weird, unnecessary dinner pleasantries.
But before more than a sound could leave his lips, Lashenite was flicking his fingers in dismissal. "You can go," and his tone was more like the first word: that low, rolling command that hadn't made itself known since Lashenite had told him to 'enter.'
"Yes, sir," Rakovanite gave a vaguely polite dip of his head before striding briskly out the door, only for it to slip closed behind him, as if by some invisible force.
Setting Sights Status ▼ Complete Solo Word Count ▼ 1574
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