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 Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:09 am
After Avalon’s enthusiastic attempt at murder the night before, Babylon wasn’t sure whether his meeting with Melanite was still on. The most he could do was go to their agreed-upon meeting place in the public garden and wait. At this point he wasn’t sure he still wanted to see the lieutenant, but Babylon wasn’t one to break plans. Would he prefer Melanite not actually show up? Well…
Before he actually figured out what he’d prefer, a chaotic signature appeared on his mental radar, and Babylon cast his eyes towards the West. It was Melanite, sure as he was standing there, and Babylon raised a hand in greeting.
“Nice place you’ve picked out,” he said, a bit awkwardly. “I haven’t been here in ages. I should come back and have a look around in the daytime.” What exactly did one do when you’d arranged to meet an enemy for art class? Babylon laughed uncomfortably. “You’re gonna have to throw me a line here,” he said, “Because I have no idea how this is supposed to work. I’ve never been painted before.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:10 am
It was, with no doubt, a stupid move to uphold his meeting with Babylon Knight. The man proved himself a poor judge of character, at least insofar as his page companion went. The woman was violent and likely insane, in Melanite's opinion. If that was the sort of person on the other side, he would take the boring regimentation of the Negaverse mafiya and be glad. The last thing he wanted was anarchy.
"It's pretty enough," he said, setting down the box of charcoal and chamois on a nearby pedestal statue. "I've been here often during the day. They have a wide collection of realist and romantic era statuary further in." He propped his drawing board up against his hip, wore away the sharp edge of the new charcoal stick on the corner of the paper, and then smiled insincerely at Babylon. "Take off the cloak and visor," he said, bending down to pick up his stick eraser. "They obfuscate the angles and shadows."
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:11 am
Babylon did as he was told, flicking his visor off into subspace and unclipping his cloak from around his shoulders. He folded it loosely and set it on a nearby bench. “My apologies for Avalon page’s behavior last night,” he said, adjusting the shoulders of his coat. “She has a bit of a traumatic history.” And they would leave it at that, hopefully. He wasn’t going to count too much on Melanite’s lack of ******** to give to protect Avalon from attempts at recorruption. And if he could find a way to replicate what had been done to him that had made him beyond corruption, then he’d see if they could pursue it.
Giving his coat a final tug, he turned to Melanite and asked, “Is that about right? I’m sorry, I’ve never posed for an artist before.” There was a bright blush spreading across his cheeks, setting the blue radiant lines even further. He was certain of it. And Melanite… In this light, Melanite looked sort of like Tate.
Odd.
“What do you need me to do?” Babylon asked.
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:11 am
He couldn’t imagine what kind of traumatic history would result in something as dramatic as his black eye. It had taken time, but he’d managed to mostly hide it with makeup that morning, but some things--like the swelling--couldn’t be so easily concealed. “That is quite acceptable.” The only real difference between drawing Babylon and drawing any other model was, firstly, that Babylon Knight was clothed. Melanite had always preferred nude models to any other kind; it was easier to conceptualize folds than it was to discern the swell of muscle beneath the skin.
Still. This shouldn’t be too hard, the acquiring of a satisfactory working language for Babylon Knight’s strange glowing lines. In fact, he anticipated it would take perhaps one night, maybe two, but no more than three, certainly. “Is there anything somewhat active you have to do that can be done in one place,” he said, spinning the long vine charcoal between his fingers as he thought. “I need you to be in movement for a time, so I can work up to longer poses. If I--what is the phrase--dive right in, the work won’t be as… good.”
He shrugged. The logic made sense to him, at least.
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:11 am
Babylon chewed his lip momentarily, puzzling over what he ought to do. Despite the year he’d spent thinking he was an avant garde sculptor (seriously, what had he been thinking?), he’d never had any formal art training and therefore wasn’t really sure what the process for all this was.
That, and when he powered up he tended to leave all of his civilian miscellany behind. He could not exactly pull out his phone and stop texting while Melanite drew him. “Sorry,” he admitted, “I’m not sure what you’re asking me to do. You want me to, uh, to pace in circles or something?”
That was sort of like one place, right?
“I think I said I’ve never been drawn before, right?” he asked bashfully, cracking his knuckles. “I’ve also never drawn anyone before. This is like, kind of magic to me.” He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing the results.
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:11 am
Melanite sighed. “You can walk in circles if you so choose,” he said, waving an arm vaguely to indicate whatever. “You could tie your shoes if you so choose. If you talk actively, with gestures, you could talk to me about any topic that pleases you.”
He really couldn’t imagine a life without drawing and painting, but he supposed he’d never really been allowed to do much else. It was sort of--having a prodigy for a son made his father’s status rise, socially, and that was simply what it was. He drew an idle circle on the pad of paper, made a few loose gestural lines, and sighted down his arm to compare sizes. “Or if you want to stand there like you’ve lost your mind, I can simply draw you from multiple angles. I feel that’d be a little boring for you, though.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:12 am
Babylon stopped pacing, choosing instead to rock on his heels. “I think I’d like to talk to you,” he said, trying to gesture. It felt sort of unnatural - maybe he’d get more into it the more he tried. He knew he could talk with his hands when the situation called for it. “You seem like an interesting guy. Classically-trained painter. Lieutenant of darkness and evil. How do you get your kicks?” It clearly wasn’t torturing the innocent. He’d never met a less enthusiastic lieutenant. Even Titan, kind soul that he was, had a certain degree of loyalty and zest for the cause.
“So I know that you’re not local,” said Babylon, steepling his hands together beneath his chin. “So where are you from? I’ve lived in Destiny City practically my whole life, but I was born in New Orleans.” Maybe, he thought, he could weedle some information out of Melanite by opening up about himself. None of what he was saying was particularly self-identifying, anyway. He could afford to share a bit.
Now to see if Melanite were permanently reticent.
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:12 am
"My kicks," said Melanite, eyes on Babylon for all that his hands were moving on the paper. "I'm sorry. Is this an idiom?" He arched an eyebrow at Babylon, and then flicked a glance down to his paper. "I would argue I am, according to what I've been told, part of a more beneficent structure than you're implying, but I understand your own propaganda must be as fiercely enforced as mine."
He shrugged. "I was born in St Petersburg, but I do not know that you could say I was raised there." No, Melanite didn't think he could say he'd been raised there. He had lived there, and he supposed that counted for the question Babylon was asking, but more of his education had been imparted to him in Moscow and the gallery studios of Europe than he had even dreamed of gaining in boring St. Petersburg. "My family saw fit to send me away more often than not," he said, switching the vine charcoal for the broader chamois. "I gather that is not so common here."
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:12 am
So he was Russian, thought Babylon. That was so perfectly typical. Of course his life involved an endless stream of androgynous Russian redheads. “No,” he agreed. “Most people around here like to keep their kids close to home.” His sister had gone to a boarding school and still lived with their parents, after all.
“Anyway, theology’s a bit much for a first date,” he said, and quickly added, “Not that this is one. It’s just an expression. I’ll stick to my propaganda and you can stick to yours and never the two shall meet unless you want to talk about it? I know what I know and I won’t bore you with it unless you ask.” Ideally he wanted Melanite to drink the kool aid, because who didn’t want that, but it couldn’t be forced.
He was getting better at this, see?
“So where’d you grow up?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation going. Melanite seemed far more Cosmopolitan and educated than the officers he’d seen around Destiny City, most of whom were lost and lonely teenagers. But maybe the European branches operated differently. He was willing to bet they did.
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:12 am
Melanite's brow furrowed, a low and displeased expression. "You're a poor conversationalist," he said. "Always circling the garden. Is that how it's said?" The saying went something like that, didn't it? Circles and gardens and so on. He rubbed out a line that displeased him, and sighed. "Keep moving, please."
He started on a new sketch. "You want to know if I am from this branch? No. I am not. I was corrupted in St Petersburg to take advantage of my social connections. Now I am here." Simple. All Babylon Knight had to do was ask. "It bores me when people try to be polite through delicacy and avoiding the subject. Please. Don't be boring."
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:12 am
Well, that was forthright. If anything it made things easier - Babylon had expected it to be hard to get information out of the lieutenant, but if he could just come straight out and ask then it would be easier. “I think the phrase you’re thinking of is beating around the bush,” he said, although neither was particularly intuitive. “But I get you loud and clear. No more double-talk.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to follow directions as best he could. “Why’d they send you here?” he asked. “Destiny City’s got it’s own branch and it’s been entrenched for years. Did they send anyone else from Europe over with you?” Melanite’s presence had to be indicative of something, some turn in the war - but did it mean that Order had the upperhand? Or that Chaos was moving in for the final chokehold.
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:12 am
Melanite shrugged again. He only knew his instructions: observe, report, return. "The other Generals are concerned," he said. "Of course there are solitary senshi, solitary knights. Idiots who are too slow to realize they must hide. But not here. Here there are... You. And abominations. And General-Kings without influence." His upper lip curled minutely. He had strong opinions on what exactly a czar ought to be, and Destiny City was not meeting his expectations. "It is a disgrace. But there is no..." He waved a hand, a dismissive gesture perhaps made only more so by the eraser in his hand. "Movement. They send Laurellite and Marthozite and Marthozite, he dies. With their original General-King, whoever he was. Now apparently with the Queen. The leadership is gone and replaced with children. The other branches are right to be concerned."
There were no other observers that he knew of. He scowled. Perhaps a General might have been better, but... The entire exercise was futile. "I am to stay for a year. But I shall be glad to return home."
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:13 am
That certainly was a lot to learn in one evening, but Babylon wasn’t about to leave it at that. He nodded, trying not to let on how pleased he was by this information. While the global situation may still be dire, things were going well in Destiny City. Now, if he could just find out whether the Negaverse was sending reinforcements, or only observations, and rally order to respond accordingly without arousing suspicion…
“So they sent you over all by yourself?” he asked, and wondered when Melanite would lob some questions back at him all this information couldn’t come without a price. Nothing he knew was terribly sensitive - what would the Negaverse be able to do with information about Olympus or his Ancestor? They couldn’t get to space and they were effectively barred from any kind of magic.
“The leadership here is a bunch of kids because they awaken kids,” he said, shifting to place his hands on his hips and jutting one out a bit. “How are recruitment practices in Europe? Do they wait for their officers to graduate high school before scooping them up?”
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:13 am
"As you say." He shrugged and said, "Hold that until I say otherwise," as he tore off a sheet of newsprint and dropped it on the ground next to him. The sketches were fluid, not necessarily interpretable to anyone not Melanite, but there was a sort of arcane grace--others may not know what he was depicting, but he did. There was stylistic language at play there.
There was no mistaking the disgust in his scowl. "I don't believe I met a single officer beyond the Knights we save that hadn't achieved the completion of--our equivalent of high school. At least. I was corrupted by a General and a Lieutenant, both of them twice my age. What would the point of recruiting a child be? What influence do they lend to the success of the Negaverse? That is a waste." At least Melanite had connections. At least he would clearly serve a purpose in their war. Even if he didn't want to, he would.
"It is the senshi who are monstrous," he said. "We have found young children in uniform. How dare you call us evil when your kind weaponize primary school children."
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 12:13 am
Babylon held, and he tried to consider what the advantage of corrupting high school students might be. It was both good and bad to know that the Negaverse elsewhere operated differently. Order was only holding a steady front because the Destiny City branch was so disorganized. What chance did they have to overthrow the local tyrants and take the fight to the rest of the world? “I’d have to guess they were looking for easily-controlled footsoldiers originally,” he said, finally hitting upon a guess that seemed even close to right. “And then kept doing it because they didn’t know it should be done any other way.”
But god if it wasn’t counterintuitive. Of course there were some adults - but he’d fought too many kids younger than him with chaotic auras to think that they were anything but a minority.
With regards to chibi senshi, well, he had opinions about that. “Your power comes from Chaos, yeah? Senshi and knight power, it comes from within.” He resisted the urge to tap his chest. “The cats awaken senshi, but they seek them out when they’re in danger, or when they’re ready to come into their power. I wish there weren’t children in this war, but it’s a function of the universe. Our power exists outside of conflict. It’s part of our being.”
He’d tried explaining this before, to other negaversers, and it never seemed to click.
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