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 Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 7:29 pm
The weekend had come, finally, and though the weather was ungodly chilly, Khaldun was still outside and walking through the woods. He'd been discharged from the hospital, finally, and his injuries were mostly all better. He still got headaches, and his chest hurt a little sometimes if anything knocked his formerly broken ribs, but it was a lot better than the alternative; he could have been pain-free and dead. His leg had been healing impressively fast - what should have taken six weeks to fix had only taken three, and he was walking without crutches. ******** finally. Odds were he'd just trade the near-fatal injuries for a bout of pneumonia what with him walking around like he was dressed for a slight cold spell and not imminent snowfall. At least he was wearing a hat, a heavy-looking beanie pulled over his head and ears more more out of self-consciousness than the cold. They'd shaved his head during triage - it still bothered him, in that wordless worrying sense. Like something had been stolen from him, and he didn't even know what. Memories. Who he was. Why he had dreadlocks was one of a million questions he had for himself. But all he had was himself, his appearance marred with scars, his hair in long dreadlocks. Or used to - they meant something to himself, his old self, and so he'd left them alone on a faint hope he'd rediscover himself. And now they were gone, and he just felt strange and ugly and confused.
The forest near Hillworth looked different in the daylight. The graveyard was the most familiar sight of all, far deeper in than he'd gone today. No, he had to stick to the path in case anything else happened to his leg, and the trail he followed didn't cut into the heart of the woods or even close to it. Khaldun stopped and rested against a pine tree while he readjusted his hat, breath coming out in white puffs. It was nice to get away sometimes; he couldn't handle a constant barrage of socializing and surprises.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 7:33 pm
"You shouldn't even be ******** out here."
There was no such thing as getting away when you were the ward of Gunn Killingworth. And if Khaldun had thought it was bad before his first visit to Destiny City Memorial, then life had made a drastic turn for the worse. Ever since he was released from the hospital, Killingworth had been a shadow to him, both Killingworth and Ursula. Unlike the fiery haired secretary, however, Charonite had no interest in pampering and nursing the injured Khaldun. He was there, though, there and watching more like a hawk than ever before.
Was this the concerned parent-figure that Ursula had attempted to point out before to the teenager?
No, probably not.
The General-King was walking down the path towards him, bearing a commanding air even out of uniform. Wearing nothing more than a track jacket and jeans (he owned a pair of jeans?), he took a drag from the cigarette between his fingers. He seemed indifferent to the cold. Knowing Charonite, he probably was. Weather was a distraction from the Negaverse. Fashion was a distraction from the Negaverse.
Curls of white escaped from between his lips as he exhaled, still yards away from where the boy leaned. His expression was unreadable, eyes hidden away by sunglasses, despite the overcast day. Something seemed off (aside from the fact he was wearing denim).
"That hat is ******** ridiculous."
Well that was normal, at least.
"If you're looking for ways to put yourself back in the goddamn hospital, at least make yourself ******** useful and do it by fighting, instead of freezing yourself to ******** death."
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 7:35 pm
He'd practically jumped, and instead just managed to knock his head against the tree trunk. Still with his hands on his hat, Khaldun shot a glance down the path where the all-too-familiar voice had come from. ******** hell. Killingworth again? If he'd thought he'd seen too much of the man before... Khaldun had been surprised by his interest and possible concern when he'd been in the hospital, but the problem with Killingworth was that he went to extremes with everything. Now, both Killingworth and Ursula kept showing up out of nowhere, pretty much entirely to chide him. Ursula at least had tried to play each time up as a coincidence, but Killingworth didn't bother with excuses. It wasn't like there was one for him being in the middle of the woods for any other reason. Khaldun had never found it odd that the General-King had some extra sense of knowing just where he was at all times; this had been demonstrated plenty in the past year or so. But it was still really annoying, and Khaldun's temper was as per usual kept in check only by his deeply ingrained fear of Charonite's wrath.
"Ursula got it for me," he countered, lowering his hands to stick inside his sweatshirt pockets. His stare and voice were icy, thanks to this being the umpteenth time in a week Charonite had dropped by to insult him. But there was no point in arguing with Killingworth when he made demands, or he'd probably literally get dragged back to Hillworth. Maybe tomorrow he'd get some privacy. Maybe. Unlikely. It wasn't like he had actually died or anything, and it was only one time that he'd ended up in the hospital, anyway. What was the big deal? "Sorry, sir. I'll head back in a minute."
"And it's not that cold," he added as an afterthought, looking away down the other direction of the trail. It was that cold. Layering two sweatshirts did not cut it in anyone's world except Khaldun's. And maybe Killingworth's, but not if Khaldun was doing it. Sigh. Again, there was no such thing as an outright no to the demand. He'd say what the General-King wanted to hear, at the very least, even if it was largely unclear (and unlikely) as to whether he'd keep any promises. His stare had wandered down to his shoes. "I'm fine. Really. Look, I'll... patrol tomorrow night. With Lieutenant Moonstone. Sir."
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 7:38 pm
"******** figures she would." Another drag of the cigarette, more release of smoke. "And figures that you'd let a woman dress you. You're seventeen, Khaldun. Grow some goddamn balls already."
How Charonite's own wardrobe had doubled in size around the same time as Ursula's moving-in apparently had nothing to do with one another. Pure coincidence. (Really).
"And no, you won't be heading back."
He flicked the cigarette onto the ground and one large boot moved to grind the butt into the dirt. Charonite was clearly irritated. Really irritated. So irritated, in fact, that he didn't even remark on the Moonstone comment (perhaps if it had been a Scheelite one, things would have been different?) and instead stared down at the crushed cigarette as if he were having second thoughts on having just destroyed it.
"Ursula - the Queen has requested your presence."
Pause.
"I'm here to retrieve you."
Wait. Why wasn't Ursula just coming to see him herself? Why send Charonite? Could this be what had him so irritated?
Two fingers shoved the sunglasses onto his forehead, gray eyes staring him down as he drew closer to the young man. He looked stressed. He looked irritable. But was that also worry, that Khaldun saw? No. General-Kings did not worry. But there was something else there. Concern? Why would Charonite be concerned over Khaldun seeing Ursula?
"Look. Whatever ******** happens, just - shut up. Keep your mouth SHUT and be respectful at all times, no matter what the ******** happens."
What?
One hand reached out and grabbed the collar of Khaldun's shirt, and he jerked the boy closer to him. "I mean it, Khaldun. Only answer when you're addressed and keep it as ******** short as your ******** attention span. Your a** could be on the line and for once I won't be able to save it."
Before Khaldun had the opportunity to respond to the General-King's warning, they both disappeared from the woods with a voip and suddenly found themselves surrounded by the chilly atmosphere of the Negaverse subspace. Charonite, in his uniform and Hematite in his - his bald head now exposed for all the world to see as his civilian clothes disappeared entirely.
Charonite said nothing at first, hand still latched to Hematite's collar as he forced the boy forward. Up ahead, Nealite sat in the throne, her face almost as emotionless as the General-King's.
What was going on?
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 7:41 pm
Oh, that was not good.
Khaldun had become an expert at tuning out any comments from Killingworth related to women and romance - the concentrated amount of hypocrisy there was probably fatal to any rational mind. Don't get involved with women, said the man most guilty of it. This seemed to be the pattern of most rules thrown at him, less about being useful and more about measuring dedication. But it was starting to sound like today wasn't the usual routine, and that was enough to make Khaldun grow uneasy. Ursula could have shown up herself if she needed him, right? Queenly duty hadn't stopped her from appearing all over the Hillworth campus all week.
There was something wrong, though. Sunglasses were off, and Charonite looked pissed (luckily, not at him, or at least not yet?). Sounded pissed. Also uncomfortable - a new facet of Charonite he'd seen more of, of late, but it didn't take anything away from the predominantly angry side. Khaldun's mind raced, trying to make sense of the many warning signs before the danger was actually upon him. Ursula had never demanded all this formality. When Killingworth said queen--
Beryl?!
He must have looked like he'd stopped paying attention, or maybe Charonite knew that saying it once was not enough for his ward. Khaldun was caught by the front of his shirt, giving Killingworth a look of clear confusion. It had to be the ghost queen. There was no denying that he was scared of her. If the General-King thought she was dangerous, then there had to be a great many reasons why angering her would be a bad idea and undoubtedly a premature end to one's life. What had he done that she had to talk to him?
No time to ask, no point. The wind chill vanished as they teleported. The Negaverse had cold but stagnant air, and Hematite's uniform was better suited to keeping him warm than his civilian mash-up. He'd lost the hat, though, leaving his head cold and bare and visible. The surgical scar was going to be permanent too, a horizontal line across one side of his head. At this rate he'd covered in them like tally marks of failure. The involuntary outfit change didn't hinder the General-King keeping hold of his collar, and Hematite was forced to follow him toward the throne. And Nealite, or whatever remained of her. She wasn't in that weird purple dress, but she looked far too serious. What the ********? Hematite half-turned his head toward Charonite, but at the last second clamped down on his question and stayed silent. His eyes wandered back to Nealite, fixing her with an expression that tried to ask 'is this really necessary?'. Maybe if they were feeling particularly generous, someone would tell him what the hell was going on, why he was here, why Charonite was making this out to be some kind of dangerous game. Beryl was dangerous. Nealite was not. He hoped this wasn't some kind of weird marriage issue they'd already run into, because he was not getting involved in that goddamn mess again.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 7:45 pm
She watched as both men approached her, and Nealite uncrossed her legs, planting both heels on the ground as she rose from the throne. It had taken all of her concentration not to smile. This was a serious situation. It called for a serious expression.
Glances were exchanged between herself and her beloved. Nealite knew he was uncomfortable with the situation. He didn't think she should be trying it. She thought differently.
Ergo, she was doing it.
Hematite looked nervous. Anxious. As if he knew he was in trouble, but had no idea what sort of punishment was in store for him. And with Charonite looming next to him, still latched to his jacket collar, it was no wonder why he looked so worried. Knowing Charonite, the General-King probably put the fear of God into the child before bringing him to her. Spoilsport.
"Hematite."
Heels clicked as she made her way towards the duo, biting her tongue behind closed lips as she suppressed the urge to laugh at the boy's expression, and then the General-King's Serious Business face. This was Serious Business, it was true, but nothing that warranted looking as if someone had died, which both men looked as if had happened.
One hand lifted, and she gently removed the General-King's from the Lieutenant's collar. His hand was hesitant to leave, but Charonite said nothing, merely taking a step back in the end as his expression remained steady. Shifting over, Nealite straightened up the creased collar, then rested her hand on the taller boy's shoulder.
"Hematite," she repeated, staring up into his face, attempting to avoid looking at the utterly bald head that still made her heart break, "Khal. You have been with the Negaverse longer than any other Lieutenant. Longer than myself, even."
She paused, no doubt about to go into the same lecture he'd heard for nearly a year. That he'd been there longer than anyone aside from Charonite. How much of a disappointment, how much of an utterly lazy ******** he was, that he wasn't a General yet. Not even a Captain. Yes, he'd heard this lecture one too many times from his original superior... now he'd get the same s**t from Ursula? It wasn't fair!
"After you were admitted into the hospital, after your loss to Nerissa..." she paused, "Charonite and I.... discussed things. And we came to a decision."
It was that moment, the moment he'd been waiting to hear, about how he'd really messed up this time, to have landed himself in the hospital and nearly an early grave. Couldn't they have waited until after his ******** hair had grown back, at least?
As hard as she tried, she couldn't help it. The Captain looked over at the General-King, and then back at the Lieutenant, grinning.
"We think you're ready for your promotion, Little Dreads."
(Charonite said nothing.)
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 7:47 pm
Now it was going from bad to worse. What the hell had he done to get them like this? Was it something he didn't do? Jesus, he'd broken bones, what good was he supposed to be before they healed? The waiting was killing him. At least Charonite normally got right to the point, he lamented to himself. Hematite was glancing between stony-faced Charonite and expressionless Nealite, fearful to say anything between Charonite's warnings and the possibility that Charonite was the real danger here. At the very least, Nealite must have caught the pleading in his eyes, because she'd rescued him from Charonite's iron grip on his shirtfront. Though he was taller than the captain, he lacked the presence both Negaverse leaders seemed to have. She had center stage even as she had to reach up to take hold of his shoulder.
Disinterest had immediately and openly crept into his features by the time Nealite had finished her first sentence. So it was going to be a lecture today. If Charonite hadn't been the silent, glaring shadow a step away from the both of them, Hematite would have ventured a sardonic commentary. This was too easy to tune out, and while his eyes stayed on Nealite, his mind was off to busy itself refuting everything he could be accused of today. Because of course it was no big deal to take senshi out with his bare hands. Any time, General-King, sir, and with one of them tied behind his back next time! And fighting Tisiphone twice? Yeah, he ought to be fighting senshi like Tisiphone every day. For shame. Maybe training every other ******** night wasn't enough nights. Sorry Captain Nealite, better drop and give you a hundred right here for ******** that one up, huh. Oh, those wounds needed a little more salt there, what did she say, that that Super had wiped the floor with him, yeah, yeah -- huh?
No, he had definitely misheard that last part. He looked thrown off, expecting an entirely different outcome from the pattern of her speech. At least he'd get points for keeping his confusion as short as his attention span:
"What?"
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 7:50 pm
She laughed at his confusion, clearly enjoying the teenager's reaction. Charonite, stoic as ever, remained silent and steadfast where he stood.
"Kneel." came the order, though the tone lacked the firmness that a Negaverse leader probably should have had. Hematite looked down at her as if to question her command, but after a quick glance back at the General-King, bent down and rested on one knee before the Queen of the Negaverse. Nealite quirked one eyebrow up as she then herself glanced over towards her betrothed, but she said nothing. Whatever he'd said to the teen had been... well, effective.
It had indeed been a long time coming. The discussion that had taken place the night before had both pros and cons to it, just as most discussions typically did. Was Khaldun ready for the responsibility of Captainhood? It surely had been long enough of a wait since his seed's corruption, but was he deserving of it? He had taken down Tisiphone, and without a weapon at that. With the increase of Super Senshi and the arrival of Captain Kunzite, would he need the power to survive? After all, he'd nearly died by the surprise double attack of Nerissa and the nameless tan and green senshi. The reason of why was unknown to Hematite, and it looked as though neither adult was willing to give any answers.
Charonite had also thought Nealite was far from ready to perform such a task. Up until now, she'd rarely made use of what power resided within her. Beryl, when she did show up, utilized and harnessed what power she had, but Nealite had difficulty controlling it, much less summoning it. It had taken the General-King by an almost terrifying surprise when she'd sat him down and explained how Beryl had promoted Obsidian after their ill-fated encounter. Granted, she left out the circumstances surrounding how Beryl had managed to take over, but the fact was there: Obsidian was now the second Captain of the Negaverse. And ever since then, Nealite had had it in her head to try her own hand at promoting Khaldun (which was what Charonite deserved to deal with, in her opinion, for even having hinted at all in the past about promoting the teenager). Whether or not she'd be able to do it, however, was still on the table. Charonite was fully capable. Beryl was more than capable for the task. But Nealite? They'd soon find out.
She put both hands on the top of his bald head, mindful of the incision mark. Charonite had insisted he attend. Insisted he help channel the power from her into Khaldun. She'd declined the offer and happily agreed that he should attend and watch her promote his ward. Why exactly he seemed rather unnerved by the idea, even she was unsure. Only time would tell, if it was even willing to divulge the General-King's secret.
Closing her eyes, she cleared her mind of thoughts of Charonite, thoughts of their conversation, of the bald head beneath her slender fingers. Instead, she focused on the power. The power she'd felt several times now when Beryl had taken over. Power that had coursed through her, power that she, in her opinion, should have the right to use (it was her body after all!).
Holding her breath, she urged the power from her hands into him.
Nothing happened.
She tried again, cheeks growing red as she quickly grew more flustered and embarrassed.
Still nothing.
s**t.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 7:51 pm
So there he was on one knee in front of the part-time Captain, part-time Queen of the Negaverse, with her hands resting on his head. This was... different. Nealite had always acted his equal; she'd never used her rank to force him to do anything but take a brief and traumatic trip to the same place they were now gathered. He was more used to the kneeling routine with Charonite, but this queen business was new and different and dangerous. Seeking wordless confirmation from the General-King, he had only been given a 'do it or die' death glare in response.
Hematite admittedly didn't know what was supposed to happen, staring down at Nealite's high-heeled boots. He'd never been promoted, and he hadn't seen Nealite get promoted. How did she get a new uniform and weapon when it happened? Some weird little ceremony like this and then someone would hand him a wardrobe change of some kind? This seemed formal enough to suit Charonite's military-man attitude.
His eyes wandered upward after a short time of waiting. Nealite looked like she was meditating. Technical difficulties? Or was this more bizarre routine from the days of yore that Charonite liked to refer back to? Maybe that was why he'd instated the 'shut up' rule. This was like those, what, civil war reenactments down south? Shakespeare in the park? Somewhere out there were people who gave a s**t about all of these things enough to do them year after year to preserve them, but Khaldun was not a believer in any sacred past but his own. And that was because he didn't have it.
From under Nealite's hands there was a little bit of nervous laughter. "Did I miss my cue, Princess Nia?"
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 8:00 pm
"Shut up." She snapped back angrily - hey, it had just been an innocent tease, right?
Hematite probably wished he'd held his tongue, especially when his head turned to see a furious looking General-King making a beeline in both of their directions.
s**t indeed. "Ursula, goddamnit, just let me handle it. He's my ******** responsibility. I will t-"
"STOP. IT."
Charonite froze immediately, halting in his approach towards them. This freaked Hematite out more than anything; when had something stopped the General-King from doing whatever he pleased? There had been only one other time, a time so terrifying he couldn't let it escape his memories if he tried...
When Hematite glanced down at the ground, his eyes went wide as he recognized the familiar purple fabric that spilled onto the stone floor. It couldn't be....God but it was. The ghost queen. But what was she doing here and s**t, that meant it was her hands that were on his hea-
He couldn't even finish the thought as he felt the first wave of pain surging through his skull. Letting out a startled yell, his balance slipped and he fell to both knees, palms lying flat against the freezing subspace ground. He could barely make out what he thought to hear as laughter before the second wave came on, even stronger than the first. The pain was excruciating, it was incredible. It was as if someone had replaced his blood with lava, boiling lava that coursed through his veins, running up and down from head to toe throughout his body. Where was the hospital's morphine when he needed it? Would he be paying a second visit to Destiny City Memorial so soon? Would he even survive the attack from the ghost queen? It wasn't fair - he'd just been ******** kidding around!!
The worst of the pain throbbed within his chest where his corrupted star seed lay. The power took hold of the seed, it fueled it, it strengthened and empowered it, as if it had been shot up by some magical star seed steroids. His chest felt so tight, he was in so much pain - his body wasn't going to be able to handle much more of the waves of pain rushing over him. Even his head, god, his head felt like someone was using his skull as a colander, straining in agonizing slowness.
It was only when he was ready to cave in to the darkness of unconsciousness that the pain vanished entirely, leaving the weary form of Lieutenant Hematite still hunched over on the ground.
No, not Lieutenant Hematite. Not anymore.
"It's about time you were promoted, Captain Hematite."
The ghost queen still stood before him, but he no longer felt her chilled hands on his head. In fact, cold hands had been replaced by a sensation all-too familiar, all-too missed. Were those... were those dreads brushing his cheek? Could it be... he had his hair back, even?
"Stand up," the voice ordered icily. "Show the General-King what should have been done months ago."
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 8:03 pm
Charonite was right.
It was a really terrible way to go, too, on his hands and knees, with those being the only three words he could manage string together as a set of unspoken final words in between the mild first attack and the real trouble that hit next. After that everything was less words and more a string of regretful feelings. He should have listened, shouldn't have run his mouth off, he was going to die this time then, just as much of a ******** as Charonite had always said he was. His consciousness was waning, and quickly. The fire was in sync with his heartbeats, in his blood - was she digging her nails into his head? Was she laughing? - it felt like something was wrong with his chest, he couldn't breathe, he was going to choke -
And then it dissipated, suddenly, and his five senses began to work again. Hematite brought one hand to his chest impulsively, balancing tenuously. The voice still struck the wrong chord in him, it was too eerily similar to Nealite's. She hadn't killed him. He wasn't dead. He was - he was really a captain now? It was what Charonite kept complaining he'd never amount to, but he had, somehow; he didn't even understand. Things had become so backwards since Nealite and Charonite - ugh. Well. They'd really seen fit to promote him, either Nealite, the queen, or both of them by separate decision. Why did he have to be subjected to that torture to get it, though? Those cold hands weren't on his head any more, thankfully. But something else was - he turned his head slightly, rustling hair. Dreadlocks. He stared in surprise. The how wasn't important - they were back!
At her command, Captain Hematite struggled to his feet. His uniform felt different. The jacket was longer, there were chained epaulettes weighing down his shoulders. The queen was still in front of him, directly in front of him. His eyes only had to make one extremely short sweep of her to confirm Nealite had left the building, that he now was alone with Charonite, and the one person who could freeze Charonite in his tracks. Lieutenant Hematite would have definitely worried about that. That Nealite was gone again, that the queen had taken her over once again. Still recovering from the increase in rank and power, Captain Hematite felt... indifferent. What could he do for Nealite, anyhow? It was stupid to worry. It was stupid to consider crossing the queen even for a friend, or they'd both wind up dead. And still hard to think too hard after such a change, with all the changes to contend with, the danger that he'd narrowly avoided. So if she wanted him standing, he'd ******** stand. One more minute of that magic would have killed him, and he didn't doubt she had plenty more minutes, hell, hours of it in waiting should anything anger her. Charonite was the only one he knew formalities with, so he took a guess, hesitance apparent in his voice. "Thank you, uh... your majesty."
"Sir." Hematite looked haggard, but also expectant of something as he turned his own attention toward the General-King. Charonite was so uncharacteristically quiet, he could almost have forgotten the man was there. But he hadn't, not for a moment. However briefly, the queen seemed to be in some kind of unspoken agreement with Hematite, even if their reasoning was entirely different. Hematite hadn't understood why Charonite constantly complained of his failure to be promoted when the General-King was the one who gave them out. If he wanted his ward to be a captain or a general, he'd always had the ability to make it happen. But it had gone on this way for over a year, the teen shouldering the blame for Charonite's decision and suffering his wrath. Hematite had no ambition whatsoever, Negaverse or otherwise, no past to look back to and therefore no way to build a future. Now, Charonite was not someone Hematite liked, not even remotely, not after the sheer number of fights and arguments and threats and humiliations he inflicted on a regular basis. But Charonite was one of many people he didn't like, even one of many people he hated. What he commanded that few others did was Hematite's fear, and his respect (in a very odd, utterly impractical sense). The man was insufferable, but as though it were some kind of cosmic injustice to all lieutenants, he was also always right. So when he called Hematite a pissant, a b*****d, a misfit, a failure - the words stuck. They defined him. It became a negative cycle neither party seemed to be aware of. But something had to have changed, now. Had to. He was a captain now, and Nealite had said Charonite had agreed to it. Why? Hematite was finally making some deliberate eye contact, staring pointedly, a bit too overconfident in the wake of his promotion.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 8:07 pm
"Congratulations, Captain."
His voice was typical Charonite. Gruff, unenthusiastic. If Hematite had been expecting a reaction out of him, he would be sorely disappointed. To his credit, The General-King's expression had remained emotionless throughout the promotion, though his eyebrows had arched as he'd watched the hair slowly grow back out of his ward's head, then form itself into new dreadlocks. As if he hadn't been as bald as the goddamn day he'd been born only moments earlier.
The Queen was powerful, there was no question of that. Her presence alone reeked of power; Nova and Tisiphone could set off alarms in any nearby senshi or guardian with the energy they exuded, but Beryl's aura extended for miles in comparison. But how far did her powers extend? It had taken her time to conjure the energy in the fight against Kunzite, but this magic had seemed to come far too easily for her. The change from Nealite had been almost instant, without barely any resistance or urging this time. How long would it be before she was at her full strength once more?
As if she read his mind (thank God she couldn't... could she?), Beryl laughed. "Don't look so surprised, Charonite. I am your Queen, after all."
"Hm, although..." One dainty hand moved out towards the Captain's face. The boy flinched at the touch, eyes widening. It was easy to assume that the only physical contact Khaldun Cilentani was accustomed to involved either beating or being beaten. No gentle caresses, no friendly, reassuring hugs. And there was nothing reassuring about the chilled fingers of the Queen as they briefly brushed along his cheek before taking hold of his chin. Her grip was firm, uncomfortable, but nothing as uncomfortable as the stare he was receiving from fiery eyes. "He might look more distinguished if he had a bit of facial hair? Why, he'd look just like his -"
"Your Majesty."
Both the Queen's and Hematite's heads turned as the insistent voice of the General-King cut off her comment. Charonite had interrupted the Queen? Charonite, the one individual who was unquestionably the most loyal subject under the Queen and followed each order and rule to a capital T... had interrupted her?
He looked uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable, standing ever-so tall as he addressed the being that could cut him down in a heartbeat, the woman who had no qualms with removing her own high ranking officials for any reason she saw fit. What had he been thinking? Had he been trying to keep her from saying something? Or was it a momentary lapse of sanity?
"My Queen, you're still regaining your strength, in your new form. And you've already exerted so much for the Captain," (Captain - Hematite could get used to this title), "Perhaps it would be best to preserve your energy for more...worthy matters?"
Her hand let go of Hematite's chin, the boy already forgotten. The teenager could only stare, bewildered, as she turned to look at the General-King. Her expression was haughty, smug. Had Charonite sealed his fate? Hadn't he been the one to tell Hematite not to speak unless spoken to?
"How.... thoughtful, Charonite," the Queen returned, adding the hesitation in mockery of his own. She made her way towards him, her graceful approach looking to both men as if she were floating, eerily heading straight for the older man, who stood tall and frigid at the oncoming ruler. He remained frozen as she finally stopped, directly in front of him. The Captain couldn't see it, but Charonite had a clear view of the grin that Beryl was giving him. She was beautiful, without a doubt, but for someone so powerful, someone so devious and manipulative to be smiling....
"Interesting. I would have thought you'd consider him to be a worthy matter. But I'll let you continue your little game, darling, though see that it doesn't interfere with your work. It would be rather unfortunate if I was forced to take matters into my own hands."
She knew what he'd done. She'd known and she was playing along - or at least keeping silent. But for what benefit? Did Beryl need a benefit? No, the Queen herself enjoyed toying with others, so this should have come as no surprise to him. No surprise, but a relief all the same.
He hesitated, then nodded.
"Yes, your Majesty."
Seemingly mollified by his response, she reached out and took hold of the General-King's arm, moving to stand alongside him as she wrapped her own with his. Charonite visibly stiffened, as if a cobra had just latched itself around him, fangs dangerously close. This was not the Queen Beryl he was used to. This was not the Queen Beryl he was used to serving. She'd treated and used him as a tool and nothing more in the past; now he was clearly of great interest to her and he had absolutely no goddamn idea how to handle such an approach. He was a puzzle solver. He knew where to move the chess pieces, but this black Queen had a set of rules all of her own, rules that no other player was aware of. Was this Ursula's doing, influencing the Queen's behavior? Endymion never had to deal with this s**t, goddammit. How the <********> was he supposed to react?
"Hematite," she addressed, breaking the silence as she finally acknowledged the teenager's existence once more, "You are dismissed. The General-King will inform you later of your new abilities as Captain, but for now, your presence is no longer required."
The message was clear: get the hell out of here.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 8:09 pm
Beryl eyed him like a bug under a microscope, and as far as he knew that was what she saw him as. An insect, so easy to kill if she was careless or vindictive. Taller than her and yet so small on the scale of power compared to her and the overwhelming power she radiated; Hematite knew better than to forget Charonite's warning twice today. But what if she was trying again!? He didn't dare to move his face away from her hand, not when it was those icy fingers running along his jawbone, and not when she'd gripped him by the chin. He'd flinched, he'd shied away slightly, but the unconscious body language had done nothing to deter her interest. His eyes searched her expression for signs of danger, near to biting his tongue. If only he could manage to say even a word to the queen's suggestion. Facial hair, god forbid. He'd shave it all off over and over and over for the rest of his life not to look like Charonite.
Both heads had turned, his twisting out of the cold grip. At least the queen had moved on to harass Charonite instead, leaving the brand-new captain to relax his stiff posture ever so slightly. Charonite behaved so strangely around Queen Beryl, it was impossible to guess what he'd do next. Hematite had crossed his arms, hugging them to his chest in his nervousness, still off-balance thanks to the painful transition in rank. Last time, the General-King had put his head on the chopping block for the then-lieutenant. This time, he'd deliberately interrupted his queen - who wasn't being at all secretive in the way she spoke in reply, as if inviting Hematite to listen. Little game, huh? Like Charonite bothered to do anything but work, work, work, oh, and when he had time off? Work. So what did they both know that he didn't? Curious as he was, he wasn't about to get his hopes up that he'd ever get the full story. No one told him anything around here, least of all Charonite.
Hematite nodded without a word, wide-eyed when the woman in possession of Nealite's body had made such a... Nealite move on Charonite. But he couldn't waste time, not the way his dismissal was worded. Nealite had explained teleportation to him pretty simply some time ago, and the sheer number of times Charonite had teleported the then-lieutenant had completely desensitized him to the travel sickness. He didn't have luxury of marveling over his newfound power here - as if his life depended on it, he shut his eyes and envisioned his dorm room and backed it up with a very strong urge to escape the crystalline Negaverse room. And then Charonite and Beryl were alone, and Hematite had powered down to Khaldun on the floor of his dorm room, reeling and exhausted and too tired to feel anything.
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