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 Posted: Fri Jan 30, 2015 6:58 pm
Being forcibly summoned to meet with a General was not exactly the sort of thing Kerberos wanted to have happen to him. Not when there were so many reasons that he could be in very deep trouble. His main fear, however, was that somehow, someone had found out about what he and titan had done. That they knew Hvergelmir and Kairatos had been rescued not by their own people, but by Chaos, and that he was about to discover exactly what the Negaverse did to corrupt senshi who turned traitor.
He was also definitely pretty far from sober, right then, because after the rescue he had fallen right back off the wagon and had made absolutely no effort to get himself back on. His fingers, when he had first been summoned, were curled around a bottle of vodka, and he was still hanging onto it - mostly empty, by this point - for dear life, as if it would protect him, somehow, from whatever was to come.Ivynian lmk if i need to change anything!
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Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2015 12:51 am
There was trashy, and then there was just trash. Showing before a superior still nursing a bottle had to win some award for 'This Sad ********' in the history of the military. Schörl lifted her eyebrow, taking in the supposed splendor of a living star with notable underwhelm. "You might qualify for a capital letter, pet." She stood at a tail, opposite his appearing place at the head of a giant black-green safari rug. Her cane was poised before her, the dragon of the head of it coiled beneath the fingers of both hands. Everything was just. so. "I like to think my time is better invested helping senshi of the white moon understand what you ...supposedly...already did. I'm something of a teacher, you see, Kerberos. " Nothing so super about you unless it's the smell. What do you have to be white-knuckling that bottle? "When we have to review lessons, it is marked inefficiency. " "Tell me, why do you need my lessons, Kerberos? "
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Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2015 8:20 pm
Kerberos was stuck pretty much on abject terror strong enough to break even through the thick haze of drunk, which normally made him a lot more amenable to stupid s**t and a lot less intelligent. But this was Schorl, and he had heard stories of this woman, and of the terror she inflicted. He had seen what she had done to Kairatos with his own eyes (including the sadistic, unnecessary - in his mind - touch of taking his clothes.)
He knew who she was and she would have terrified him just as much sober.
So he carefully set down the bottle and actually made an effort to answer her question. Without sarcasm.
"Well I'm guessing it's because I haven't put down a bottle for like, three or four months, ever since I started remembering being a crazy murderous Ascended monster like, wow, that really changes your life perspective, being basically dead. And I'm pretttyyy sure being drunk off my a** makes me a walking embarrassment to the Negaverse."
Honesty was the best policy, right?
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2015 3:34 pm
Ascended 'monster'....now that is a very interesting perspective of thought on the station of the most celebrated of the Corrupted. On Alkaid herself, who has given over everything in loyalty to Metallia. She is a monster, is she? Something to be feared and respected, certainly. But a 'monster'....? That is not a pretty ideology to hold. That is not a celebration of her. " Motivation and method are the keys, Kerberos. Purpose. Have you considered, Senshi, that magic of another might be the cause of those dreams? There are senshi with much more power. There are even beings out there like the Queen Finsternis whose magic rained on the entire city. Widespread magic like this has happened before and ceased with no fruit but the whispers of ruse. Dreams making out all that we are to be monstrous, rather than efficient and stable, would be a Moon Court aim." "But maybe that doesn't filter through the haze." She clipped her cane on the ground once and the safari rug came to life. It wrapped flat paws around the abandoned bottle, stood on its hind legs and walked the offending object to offer her. Once it was given over, Schörl crossed the small space between them to stand within his personal space. The scent of him was unsurprisingly the same as the bottle. The small remnants of it were lifted and poured onto his head. "You have baptized yourself with this. I will give you freedom." The bottle was given back into the Youma's paws. The general pulled a single match, the tip distinctive white phosphorus, out of her cuff. She looked hard at his face and eyes. "You burn inside with the cleansing and reforging of the blade of your soul to the glory you were born into." Or outside. I hear alcohol and hair are rather flammable.
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Posted: Wed Feb 04, 2015 10:04 am
Alright, so Kerberos had never considered that the whole future memories thing might be some kind of Order trick - but it seemed almost impossible, to him, when he thought of Hver throwing up when she first laid eyes on him. She had seen it too, it had been just as terrible for her (but if these memories were some sort of ploy to shake his loyalty then it was working, it was working so very very well, and maybe it all being a trick or something made more sense than someone actually wanting to hold out a hand and save him.)
The tap of cane on the ground made him jump, and he turned to watch with no small amount of horror as something he had dismissed as decoration actually got up and moved A youma, he realized, which just made him more nervous because he had yet to have a good experience with a youma. More often than not, they tried to attack him, because of whatever deep-seated thing they had about Senshi.
He started to step back, away from her, but not quickly enough to avoid getting it dumped into his hair.
"What the ********," he started, but there wasn't exactly a lot of room to ask what exactly she was thinking because he stared at that match and all the color drained from his face.
As Alex, he had made a few desserts en flambé before. Bananas foster, mostly, but a baked Alaska once. He was very thoroughly familiar with how fire reacted with alcohol. In cooking, it was a cool technique.
Imagining it being applied to him, however, in his powered form with lots of draping cloth and hair for miles and the addition of the ever-flammable vodka, was a pretty damn sobering thought.
"Jesus ******** Christ, fine, I'll do whatever you want, just put that match away." Somehow, he managed to keep from saying what he was thinking, which was 'holy ******** she's completely ******** psycho.'
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Posted: Thu Feb 05, 2015 12:47 pm
"These are your orders." "You have twelve hours. You will notify your job, your schooling, your roommates, any outside connections you have left after your self-demolition via russian water. You will be gone at the very least two weeks, more as necessary for your recovery. You will tell them you are going into alcoholic recovery, and admit this to others and to yourself. You will pack a backpack with a pillow, a set of sheets, and a blanket. You will pack 6 pairs of underwear, 6 tshirts, one pair of slacks, three pair socks, and one button down. Toothbrush, toothpaste, and your antiperspirant of choice. You will bring this bag to the barracks here in Dark Kingdom space and you will submit yourself to two weeks of detox." "There is no leaving. 24 hours a day you will be under surveillance. You will be kept clean, laundered, and reset in a regimen of daily personal hygiene. " "The medical corp, scanty as it is, will be notified and help in monitoring and administration of necessities. Are we clear as a candle?" The matchstick wasn't put away. She toyed with it between deft fingers.
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Posted: Thu Feb 05, 2015 2:17 pm
Kerberos nodded along, trying to catalog everything she was saying. Mostly, though, he latched on, mentally, to "you have twelve hours" - hie had twelve hours to make good with everyone he cared about, few as that numbered now. To pack, and to prepare to go through two weeks of whatever hell Schörl could concoct to get him clean.
He had seen what she had done to Kairatos. Had heard what she had done to others. This was not someone he wanted to cross any more than he already had - he didn't want to provoke her into actually attempting to force the issue.
"Yes, General," he said, and his voice definitely shook a little. "Report to the barracks in twelve hours with bags packed, understood."
At least he didn't have much of a life left to handle - between the drinking and the general misery, most of that was long gone.
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Posted: Mon Feb 09, 2015 6:55 pm
"You will not disappoint me." It was said without implicit warning in the tone, a pleasant statement that had confidence and sweetened welcome. Whether the warning was still in it in spite of the tone wasn't to be doubted, though. The General stepped uncomfortably close again, gripping the corrupted's shoulders to then kiss one cheek and the other in more European than American parting of company. But didn't back immediately from the second kiss. Instead, licked from jaw up cheek along a drying runnel of vodka. Whispered against his ear, lips soft but chilled, "Eleven hours and 59 minutes. Best be on your way to your affairs. And Kerberos, no drinking in that time, yes? " Finally she let his shoulders go and stepped back to allow him space. "I'll be able to taste it on you if you do."
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Posted: Wed Feb 11, 2015 9:33 pm
Kerberos nodded. God, he had never been so terrified in his life. Maybe it was because he knew what she could do - knew what she might do if he did disappoint her.
He stood stock-still, wishing he had the courage to verbalize exactly how uncomfortable this contact was making him - but there was no guarantee that wouldn't set her off. So he let her touch him, kiss his cheeks, lick his face, because there was really no other choice.
"No drinking. Understood," he said, and his voice shook. He hoped that was a good enough dismissal, because he teleported out of there as soon as he felt safe enough to do so.
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