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 Posted: Wed Feb 01, 2017 8:59 pm
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This was a dream. It had to be a dream. There was no other way any of this could be happening. There was not a wolf with human features and piercing golden eyes and sharp teeth spiriting him away to a strange, cavernous world. He was not obediently following the wolf along without a word, his eyes lowered, feeling as though he was being watched, scrutinized with every step he took.
Yet, he could still feel the ache and sting from the bite to his neck, could still feel the blood pool in the dip of his collarbone and soak into his clothing. He felt dazed, but the pain had jolted him enough that he didn’t feel quite as ready to pass out as he had before. If anything he was in denial. Because this had to be a dream and this was not real and he was already dead or dying.
He could still feel the energy swirling inside him, pushed into him once more by the wolf, assisted by someone called General-King. He still couldn't believe it that when it seemed as though the energy broke through whatever barrier was stopping it, he had indeed changed as the wolf had apparently wanted.
His hair almost dragged along the ground behind him, his clothing no longer bland and normal but navy and orange and purple and an ornate floral pattern on his sleeves.
And most importantly; he was no longer Yuuri, but Kamacite.
Kamacite didn’t say a word as he followed the wolf. There wasn’t anything else for him to do. He was still terrified, but the wolf had already told him his life was no longer his own.
And he was never ordered to run.
It was not a dream.
Yuuri - or rather, Kamacite - could continue to tell himself that it was, but Wolfeite would not allow him to live out his little fantasy. Real life was something else entirely; he did not intend to allow his newest project to run away so easily, no matter how much Kamacite would wish it.
A senshi. Kamacite was not a Lieutenant, he was a senshi. A corrupted one, but still. It had been a rude awakening, an annoyance of an otherwise perfect chance. Axinite’s assistance had not been wanted, but it had been dealt with, quickly and efficiently, at the very least.
They were no longer in the Castle. Wolfeite was leading Kamacite down the path to the Rift, his posture more relaxed than it had been earlier, tail flicking back and forth behind him, ears alert.
“Your name is Kamacite,” he said, without turning around; he knew that the other was following him without having to look. “You are a corrupted senshi of the Negaverse. You will report to me entirely, and no other general, no other senshi. You are no one’s but mine. Do you understand that?”
He would not - he would not - have anyone else interfering.
He followed silently, peering around every now and then, trying to catch a glimpse of where he was. There had been a castle-like building, but now they were heading away from there, and it felt somehow more ominous, the air heavier.
Corrupted senshi? Negaverse?
There were too many thoughts and questions swirling through his head, but he didn’t dare open his mouth. Not yet. Not until he was asked a question. He knew better than to talk out of turn, better than to question things that aren’t meant to be questioned.
“Yes, sir,” he said quietly, his heart pounding. Kamacite finally lifted his hand from where it was hanging by his side, and gently pressed it to the bite on his neck, wincing at the tenderness of it. He’d never been bitten before, not even by an animal since he tended to stay away from them. And definitely not by a wolf. And most definitely not by a human, which he still wasn’t sure what this… man-wolf was.
“How shall I address you?” he dared to ask since he’d yet to be told. He was being told so many thing at once that it was difficult to keep everything straight.
He got a few looks, as he always did, stalking through the halls until he reached the one he wanted that would lead to the Rift. Wolfeite was far used to the Negaverse by now; some looks were curious, some afraid; more still openly hostile, as though they could hardly believe a half-youma was in their ranks at all.
It didn’t matter. He was better than all of them, after all. And now he had someone to work on, work with; a protege, an underling he could mold to his own liking.
It was a tempting feeling. He wanted to keep hold of it.
The docile answer pleased him, Wolfeite turning his head just slightly, enough that he could look over his shoulder and catch the small movement of Kamacite’s hand as he pressed it to his neck. A savage rush of pleasure at the reminder of the mark he’d left had his lips drawing back in a smirk, Wolfeite looking ahead again as they neared the door to the Rift.
“General,” he said, in answer to the other’s question. “You may call me ‘sir,’ or ‘General.’ “
The Rift was, of course, Wolfeite’s home and his preferred place of rest. Vast lands of purple and black, glittering eyes of the youma that resided here. Wolfeite kept walking until he reached a thicket of spindly, shattery trees and a rocky outcropping, turning to face Kamacite as his feet slowed.
“You are free to ask questions now. I’m sure you have them.”
Everything in his being told him that he should not be in this place of purple and black and strange sounds and thick, heavy pressure bearing down on him. He should not be there, but he could not quite put his finger on why; was it just his overactive imagination, or was there a very strong possibility that this really wasn't a dream and his life really was in danger? And would probably be in even more danger were it not for the presence of the wolf with him.
General. Definitely not a very personal way to address the wolf, but Kamacite supposed he was not worth being told more than that, anyway. He would either figure it out for himself or simply suffer for it.
He couldn't stop himself from looking around, his eyes darting from one set of blinking eyes to another, feeling more on edge the more he realize this wasn't a dream and that this was actually happening. Not only that, but before he'd been absolutely certain he would have been killed in that alley. But now there was so much hinging on what the General would do with him. He could either keep him alive for whatever reason, or let the other monsters that lurked in the shadows devour him.
Kamacite jumped when the General spoke to him, giving him permission to ask questions. Yes, he had countless questions, enough to make him dizzy. He lowered his hand from his neck, not sure if he should be relieved that the blood was mostly dry, or if he should still be concerned that he'd been bitten.
Regardless, he lifted his hands to clutch at the fabric over his chest, and could immediately feel his face pale as he realized there was a sizable hole in his chest. He pulled the fabric closed all the way up to his neck to try and cover it. He was starting to feel queasy again, what with being in this strange world and the heavy pressure settling down over him, and the looks the General was giving him, and the strange clothes and hole in his chest and eyes watching him and energy pulsing through him and this most likely not being a dream and his breathing becoming erratic again and he knew the General gave him the opportunity to ask questions but all Kamacite could do was shake his head, unable to speak, barely able to breathe.
The Rift was vast, truly unbelievable when it came to its sheer size and depth. Wolfeite had spent hours, days, months here simply searching out what he could, but he doubted it could ever truly be explored fully. Like the ocean and its many secrets, the Rift expanded to insurmountable rates - but that did not mean that Wolfeite was not going to devour as many things as he could while in it.
There was no response from Kamacite. Wolfeite was watching him, gold eyes narrowing as the senshi grasped at his chest, and then it seemed as though he was finally breaking down, the expression shifting to one of outright panic, his widened eyes and parted lips showing fear, not curiosity or interest. Every movement was edged in desperation, in despair, and Wolfeite clicked his teeth together.
Silently, tail flipping behind him, he strode forward. A hand went around to the back of Kamacite’s neck, gripping tightly, fingers tangling in the long, dark strands of hair as he forced his head back to look up. His other hand covered Kamacite’s eyes, gloved fingers a makeshift mask, blocking out the vivid purple of the Rift.
Teeth scraped against Kamacite’s Adam’s apple, a warning bite, nothing more; barely a graze before Wolfeite spoke, voice a low, quiet hiss.
”Calm down. I am not going to kill you.”
Not yet, anyway.
His heart was surely going to break out of his chest. If it hadn’t been taken out already, the hole in the very forefront of his mind, making him wonder how he was even aline. And then the wolf was striding forward, Kamacite frozen in place, wondering if this was going to be it; he was finally going to be deemed worse than unworthy and would be promptly disposed of.
He dared not resist as the wolf gripped the back of his neck, his head tilted back with his neck exposed, his eyes wide and staring at the heavy colors surrounding them, waiting for his throat to be torn out or cut or --
But instead, a hand covered his eyes, blessedly blocking out the light that he didn’t realize was aiding to his panic, and the graze of teeth against his Adam’s apple nothing like the bite from before, but still very clearly taken as a warning, sending shivers down his spine as he stood there, gulping down breaths of air to try and settle himself.
He let his eyes close under the wolf’s hand, his own hands still clutching tightly to the fabric of his clothing, hating that he was so utterly pathetic. He hadn’t been killed, and the wolf even told him he wouldn’t kill him, so why couldn’t he get himself to calm down?
“S-solar flares… why does that… what does that mean?” he finally forced himself to ask, calming a little more and more the longer he remained unable to see the strange world around him. “I don’t understand -- why those… they’re not words… they’re more like -- feelings. Repeating in my -- in my heart,” he said, wishing there was a better way to describe it. Ever since he’d changed into what he was now, a little voice in the back of his head kept murmuring to him, whispering to him. They weren’t really words even, but more like an emotion, the words only forming when he opened his mouth.
He did not want to play babysitter for a variety of reasons that mostly stemmed from a severe lack of patience and an extreme desire not to have to deal with stupidity.
But this was a different situation; he had chosen this path, after all. He could have killed Yuuri instead of turning him into what he was. He could have simply taken his starseed and drained him of energy, could have left his lifeless body sitting there on the streets and walked away without a second glance.
Except he hadn’t, because Yuuri had been different. Yuuri had shown promise, and that was still there. He was still full of potential because Wolfeite did not ******** make mistakes, and he wasn’t about to start now. He hadn’t made a mistake when he’d strode into the Rift as a Lieutenant and come out a half-youma Captain instead. He hadn’t made a mistake when he’d chosen to leave behind the rest of his life for a future in the Negaverse.
There were no regrets in his life, and there would not be. He would make Yuuri - Kamacite - into something of his own making, and then they would see.
Then they would all see.
Wolfeite kept his hand over Kamacite’s eyes; the shudders were still making him tremble, but they were lessening, slightly, at least enough for the other to speak. Wolfeite slowly loosened his grasp on his hair, but kept his hand where it was, clicking sharp teeth together.
“You are Kamacite, Corrupted Senshi of Solar Flares,” he said. “An interesting sphere, no doubt.”
He was pleased by it. Wolfeite tugged at a lock of dark hair, not hard.
“What else do you feel?”
He was not built for this. He was not very athletic, he had a pretty weak constitution, was easily startled, didn’t speak up when things bothered him, didn’t go out of his way to make his life better, was horrible with social interactions, was way too shy about things; all the reasons why he could not possibly imagine why the wolf kept him alive.
Unless he planned on using him for his own gain, which Kamacite couldn’t possibly figure out what he could do to aid someone who was obviously so incredibly strong already.
“I c-can feel… that you’re very powerful,” he whispered with a shiver down his spine, causing his whole body to tremble, the compulsion to try and shrink away from this wolf incredibly strong. But Kamacite didn’t move. He couldn’t. “And I’m…”
Weak. Pathetic. Useless.
He tried drawing in another breath, trying to keep himself from panicking again. The wolf said he wouldn’t kill him. He wouldn’t kill him. He wouldn’t kill him.
And yet, even though there was no real indication that the General would have even thought it, Kamacite knew the follow up was until I don’t need you any more.
It could be at any moment. Whenever Kamacite’s usefulness ran out. Why else would he have been brought down to this place of monsters and heavy pressure and… dare he say it? Magic. He could feel the energy pulsing off the other creatures and monsters in that place, and could even remember the pulse of energy from the man with the orange hair that the wolf had taken him to. There were others. A lot of others. All varying degrees of strength, but the wolf’s was one of the strongest he could feel, crackling with raw energy.
“W-what are my orders?” he heard himself asking, probably in desperation, that urge to stay alive just a little longer even if there really wasn’t a point. “What do I need to do…?” He’d been honest when he told the wolf he would follow whatever he was told, and not just as a desperate attempt at saving his life. Although he wanted to live, too.
I can feel that you’re very powerful.
A slow, pleased smirk spread across Wolfeite’s face until it was stretched into a twisted, savage grin. The power signatures, he supposed, were what Kamacite was feeling now, and he thrilled at the knowledge that his own was as intense and strong as it was, the electricity of this knowledge chasing its way through Wolfeite’s veins like a drug.
“Very good,” he all but purred, fingers sliding almost soothingly up and down the back of Kamacite’s neck. “I am extremely powerful. I am a General. That is the highest ranking other than the General Sovereigns, of which I intend to overtake when I have reached my goals. You are not strong yet, but you will be. Not as powerful as I, but you will not fail me.”
He would not let him. Yuuri’s - Kamacite’s - weaknesses were an intense thing that Wolfeite would need to work through, but he would do it, because he knew he could do it. He knew what he was doing, he did not need anyone to tell him that. He would twist and mold Kamacite into what he wanted.
It was perfect.
Wolfeite leaned forward, teeth scraping against Kamacite’s Adam’s apple again, extremely lightly, and then he let go entirely, taking a step back as his hands fell away from the senshi’s neck and eyes, leaving him bared once more.
“You will collect starseeds and energy,” said Wolfeite. “I will teach you how. You will take the energy to Metallia. You will bring the starseeds to me. Do not break them. Do not crush them. I need all of them, and you will be better than what you are now.”
He folded arms across his chest.
“Do you understand?”
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Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2017 10:26 pm
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Hands still gripped tight to his robe, holding it closed over the hole in his chest, unsure if he was more frightened by the fingers on the back of his neck, or calmed by them. He could feel the energy from the General radiating from him, knowing that one quick movement would be the end of him. And yet, he wasn’t being as rough with him as he could be, although Kamacite was very aware that could change at any time.
Another light graze of teeth against his throat, and then the wolf was pulling back, arms crossed over his chest and Kamacite left to stare at him, both fear and now a bit of curiosity in his eyes. He’d mentioned Kamacite becoming stronger, about goals that needed to be reached for the wolf. The promise that Kamacite would not fail him.
That wasn’t the words of someone who intended to kill him right away. Maybe there was a chance that Kamacite could prove his usefulness.
He shifted uncomfortably, jumping slightly when a growl was heard in the not too far distance, but he kept his eyes on the wolf, looking from the golden yellow of his eyes to the ears to his swishing tail. Kamacite was still terrified of this strange place, but there was some strange sense of calm that was settling over him.
As long as he followed orders, there was no need to be rid of him, right?
He lowered his hands from where he clutched tightly to his robe, carefully taking the time to smooth out the fabric and look somewhat presentable, although he did try to keep the hole in his chest hidden. Hands against his sides and standing a little taller, Kamacite nodded to the wolf, a glimmer of determination mingling with everything else he was feeling.
“Yes, sir.”
He had to go about this carefully. As impatient and hungry as Wolfeite was, he could not rush this. Yuuri - Kamacite - was not fragile, exactly, but he was easily broken, and Wolfeite would not stand for him to shatter without losing this chance to make him his. He’d come this far after a long road of hard work and intense drive, and now he would continue to move forward, this time with a protege.
Yes, sir was exactly the answer that Wolfeite had been looking for. His eyes took in the careful deliberation, the smoothing down of fabric, the cautious way in which Kamacite was standing straighter, the look in his eyes slightly less fearful than they had been moments earlier. Already, things were changing; things were getting better.
Wolfeite felt his lips curve up into a savage smile.
“Good,” he all but purred.
An arm spread out, Wolfeite gesturing to their surroundings with a clawed hand.
“This is the Rift. This is where I live most of the time. If you need me, I will be here. You can call for me, but I will only come if necessary. I will be able to send for you when I want, so be prepared. I do not tolerate lateness or stupidity.”
The Rift. That was the name of this desolate place. Kamacite dared to lift his eyes away from the wolf to look around him once more, the blinking eyes from the darkness still making him feel queasy and uncomfortable, and the noises and the vibrant color.
But, he reminded himself, he wasn’t dead. It was an incredulous turn of events, actually being alive instead of being killed, the wolf taking some kind of interest in him for whatever reason, whether to exploit his weaknesses or to build on his unknown potential, Kamacite wasn’t sure. Maybe both.
Dark eyes turned back to the wolf, seeking out the golden eyes in the darkness, his hands gripped into fists by his sides to keep his hands from shaking. He wasn’t sure what would be considered stupidity, but Kamacite definitely did not want to find out.
“Yes, sir,” he said again, swallowing back the shiver that ran through him. He couldn’t imagine living in a place like this, but he supposed if the wolf was comfortable there, then why not? Kamacite held his tongue to keep himself from asking or saying anything that might be considered stupid. His neck still throbbed dully from being bitten not too long ago. He would like to not be bitten again if he could help it.
He could hear them, of course; the youma. This entire place was infested with them, growing with them, until they twisted blackly and thickly around and around until one couldn’t tell where some ended and others began. It was a place of darkness, of violence, of nothing but the intensity of the fight and the brutal need to survive.
And Wolfeite thrived on it.
“The Rift is where the youma live,” said Wolfeite calmly, though his voice, as ever, held a low, rasping quality to it, almost feral, a persistent growl of a tone. “Where I live. You cannot teleport in and out of here. At your level, you cannot teleport as it is, so I will have to take you places. When you are stronger, you will be able to teleport at will, but do not waste your energy needlessly.”
His lips drew back into a half snarl.
“I dislike those who throw around their energy, conserve it for when you need it. You are capable - or you will be - of teleporting into Negaspace only, the Rift is only obtainable through the Hall of Shadows.”
Wolfeite had turned to gesture at their surroundings and now turned to look back at Kamacite, ears flicking a little.
“What questions do you have? Ask them now.”
Teleporting? Youma? Hall of Shadows. Negaspace. Wasting energy. So many things adding to the questions that continued to squirl in Kamacite’s head, his hands kept clenched tightly down by his sides, although he did fiddle a little with the fabric if only to keep himself focused. Or try to. It was difficult when he could still hear and see the shadows twisting and turning and watching him, as if they were waiting for something. Waiting for the wolf to leave him so they could attack, perhaps?
That heavy feeling of he shouldn’t be there was falling over him again, and he could feel his chest heave with another wave of panic. He gulped down a few breaths and tried to focus on what the wolf was saying. Asking him if he had any questions.
There were too many questions. But even as he opened his mouth, they all seemed to jumble up and get stuck until his mind went blank. He didn’t know where to begin. He didn’t know what was a stupid question, or what should be common knowledge. He was afraid of seeming like an idiot to this wolf who was obviously very intelligent. And dangerous.
“H-how will you call for me, sir?” he finally forced himself to ask and cursed at his inability to keep his voice even, but suddenly jumped with a loud snarl came from close behind him, and Kamacite spun around to try and see where the sound was coming from and managed to stumble backwards and all but crumpled to the ground in his haste.
He had the horrible, sickening feeling that these monsters could smell fear. And he was terrified.
He was sure he was dumping a great deal of information on Kamacite, but the senshi would handle it - or he would learn to handle it. Wolfeite’s gaze had not left his newest protege, his expression a mixture of satisfaction and amusement as he took in the new stance, the attempt at confidence.
It was small, perhaps, but it was better than before, even if the panic was still warring in Kamacite’s eyes.
Wolfeite did not so much as flinch as the growl came, Kamacite falling to the ground in his fear. He strode over to his senshi, reached down, and hauled him back up again with a clawed hand wrapped around his upper arm, dragging him to his feet. A snarl was ripped from his own throat; a warning sound, undeniably, and the shadowy creature a few feet away slowly shifted away.
Wolfeite let go of Kamacite and stepped back again, a sneer on his lips.
“There are crystals. They will allow me to call for you. The youma in here, they do not like senshi, even corrupted ones. Do not come here without me.”
Another warning, only for someone else this time.
He saw the shadowy creature, an unrecognizable form lurking on the edge of the darkness, stalking towards them, but before Kamacite could even try to get to his feet, he was being hauled back up. The snarl right by his ear, although it was not exactly meant for him, was enough to have Kamacite flinching away, although he couldn’t go very far with the wolf holding onto his arm.
His heart was in overdrive, and by the time the wolf let him go, Kamacite was clutching a hand over his heart again, trying to get it to calm down. Something the wolf had said lingered on the forefront of Kamacite’s mind, something that made him shift warily, although he already knew there was nowhere for him to go, even if he wanted to run, which he didn’t.
“The other… people… in that Castle,” he said quietly, trying to work up the courage to ask even if he was afraid of the answer. “They weren’t like you or me.” Kamacite paused, and bit at his lip, lowering his hand from his chest once more to set by his side. “You said - the youma… they don’t - like senshi.”
Kamacite might be completely overwhelmed by everything and terrified, but he hadn’t been so blinded by his panic that he didn’t notice everything around him. While he was sure he couldn’t be the only corrupted senshi, since they’d obviously made up a name for his type, it was still quite obvious that there weren’t very many of them, whether because there were few to begin with, or because they didn’t survive very long.
And he could clearly remember the look on the wolf’s face when he had to get additional energy to change Kamacite into what he was now. He didn’t understand the expression, whether it was frustration or anger or hatred or something else entirely, but it was quite vivid in his mind. So much so that he could barely recall anything else about what happened just a short time ago.
“Do you also not like me for what I am? For being a corrupted senshi?” he finally forced out, but by the time he worked himself up to say it, the nervousness had fled, and all that was left was the same resignation from before, when he’d been sure he’d be killed. Kamacite already had a feeling he knew the answer, because just as it was obvious that there weren’t many corrupted senshi around, there weren’t many, or any others, like the wolf around. And his energy had the distinct feel of a youma, at least partially so.
Wolfeite’s golden gaze slowly moved back to Kamacite, his expression quite calm, even as he took in Kamacite’s hand once more clutching at the front of his robes, as though searching for whatever was no longer buried deep inside of his chest.
“No,” he said, “They are not like you or me. I am a half-youma General. I merged with a youma before I became a Captain, and while it was not the intended purpose of my trip into the Rift, it is the result, and I have no regrets. I became what I am out of necessity and out of a desire for the strength to get what I want, and I will do whatever it takes to get that.”
The question, he supposed, was not entirely unwarranted. Wolfeite had not liked going to Axinite; he had not liked having to subject himself to someone else, to have to use someone else in order to get what he wanted. Wolfeite knew how to play the game, he knew when to behave (for the most part) - but he had not entirely been able to stop the look of irritation that had flashed across his face as Axinite had helped him.
Wolfeite slowly paced towards Kamacite, his tail brushing against his legs. He stopped a few inches away, his expression a mixture of hunger and curiosity, the greed always there, and then he lifted a hand, clawed fingers nudging beneath Kamacite’s chin to tilt his face up again. The hand slid lower as he did so, until his palm was pressed against Kamacite’s Adam’s apple, fingers wrapped lightly around his throat.
“Lost one, I care for no one and nothing except myself,” he whispered, but there was a feral grin starting to spread across his face, teeth sharp and white in the dark.
“But I will make you into something great. I will make you into something big, so that no one will question you, so that all will fear you, so that you will be able to take what is yours and make the world bow to you.”
The grin was savage, vicious.
“So that they will bend and break to us.”
Kamacite watched as the wolf slowly moved forward to him, his chin lifting as he was prompting, but immediately tensing as the same hand curled fingers around his throat. The wolf didn’t squeeze or even hold tightly, but it was still enough to put Kamacite on edge. The fear was still there, but the more he learned about where he was and what he was, and what the wolf was, the more he felt a tiny flame of determination to survive flickering to life inside him.
While he believed him when he said he only cared for himself, there was still something in the way the wolf spoke. He wanted him to be strong, for all to fear him and by extension the wolf. And yet, instead of emphasizing that it was for the wolf, instead of saying me, it was us.
Whether unintentional or simply misspoken, Kamacite couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to this angry, vicious looking wolf than meets the eye. He was definitely power hungry, there was no point in denying that. But there was something the wolf had seen in him that kept him from ending up a corpse in the alley.
The wolf was too proud, too confident in himself to ever be considered a failure. And Kamacite had no intention of failing him.
“To you, sir,” he said, doing his best to ignore the trembling that came with the awareness that there was a very strong hand around his throat and he could easily be killed. “Everything I do will be for your glory, and your goals. I will do whatever necessary to ensure you get what you want,” he said, his hands clutching tightly to the fabric of the robes by his sides, his throat working as he tried to swallow down his nervousness and replace it with what determination he could.
“My life is yours. I won’t disappoint you.”
A part of him wondered whether or not Kamacite could take what Wolfeite had to offer - but the other part of him knew that he had already accepted, from the first second that Yuuri had not run away. Yuuri had chosen this path, whether he believed it or not, whether he was afraid of it or embraced it. He had chosen it, and Wolfeite would hold it to him.
Gloved fingers stroked gently down the side of Kamacite’s throat, almost a tender gesture, before Wolfeite let his hand fall away again.
“Good,” he breathed out, and there was pleasure in his eyes, a heady rush of pride that stemmed from his pupil already starting to realize where his place was, what his duties were. Wolfeite lifted his chin, feeling the adrenaline start to course through his veins, until he could feel nothing but a persistent beat that reminded him that he was going to take it all.
With Kamacite as his protege, he would get exactly what he wanted.
Wolfeite gave a nod, lifted a hand, and pressed clawed fingertips to Kamacite’s cheek, almost a caress.
“Already you please me,” he said in a low growl of satisfaction. “Already you understand.”
He took a step back, eyes glinting gold in the dark.
“You will not disappoint me.”
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