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 Posted: Sun Dec 10, 2017 3:45 am
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Industrial yards became too familiar a sight to him. They yawned wide, mouths full, and bared their burdens to the clouded expanse of black night. Pipes and scraps and junkyard rabbles each leaned toward the sky, hoping to catch and bleed a slipped foot. Somewhere beneath all those twisted heaps, the world's latent maliciousness lurked like the chaos in his heart. And Faustite didn't mind it — any accidental injury incurred was a sign that he did something, went somewhere, perhaps fought someone.
He trod over aluminum sheets and they announced his presence to the world. He paused, breath hung like unsaid words on the chill air. No one came. No auric energies flared to life around him. No security guard came bustling out with gun and voice raised in tandem. He kept walking.
And as he walked, as he wandered unchecked through the night, his mind meandered. He thought of Sinope and his recent brush with homelessness. He thought of Rowan and his dance recitals, intermittently interrupted by energy draining. Schörl came next, with her just shy of too-high expectations, with her two sets of gleaming teeth. Then came Tiberius and all his unsubtle manipulation. Chrysocolla and her lack of mind, the green earth knight and her unchecked rage, Hopeite and her all-devouring hubris, Harmonia and her unfettered innocence, Oberon and his hunt for answers, Faustite's family and their masked turmoil. Every one of them stood as a microcosm of events — a roiling epicenter where outward raged a violent storm. He was caught and buffeted by each of them, and they pushed their worries and cares and charms into his mind. They raped their presences into his life.
And yet here he was. Here he was, walking from building to building, looking for energy to steal or murders to commit. All those people staked their claims in his land until his own soverign country shrank down and down and down. He barely recognized himself anymore. But he was more, he knew. He was pulled taut by each finger pressed into his life, and he infected theirs in return. He could spread himself like a disease —
Pain struck up through his foot and Faustite yelped. As he leapt from where he stood, holding his foot in an awkward balance, he found the culprit nail that bit through his shoe. It drew him back into the world, out of his thoughts, and he finally felt the faint whorls of auric energy on the horizon. He wouldn't be alone anymore.
guine warehouse district start 4 u
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Posted: Sun Dec 10, 2017 9:47 pm
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Yuuri understood the convenience of living in a converted warehouse. It was remote, it was quiet (usually), and there was a decent amount of space. What Yuuri didn’t like was how far it was from everything else. The bus only ran to a certain point, and then it was a matter of walking the rest of the way. Which was fine. He didn’t mind walking. As long as he kept an eye out for anything suspicious.
Like the shout of pain he suddenly heard from not too far away. Yuuri jumped and quickly scrambled behind the closest structure he could find, which was just the side of a building. He had the option of running for it, or he could power up and teleport, which would be a lot faster.
Teleporting was always a good way to go.
Making sure there was no one who could immediately see him, Yuuri quietly powered up, long hair and robes falling around him as he prepared to use his energy for the jump--
But the aura that met the edge of his senses was that of the Negaverse. Not just the Negaverse, but similar to Wolfeite. Were they part youma, too?
Curiosity pulled at him, even though he knew the danger. Wolfeite would be displeased if he put himself in danger, as would Aue. If there was a need, he could always teleport himself the rest of the way to Lauri’s place for help.
Cautiously, even as his heart rate spiked, his subconscious urging him to run the other way, Kamacite made his way towards the aura. He gathered up what he could of his hair so he wouldn’t trip, and made his way towards the other.
“Are you injured?” he called out when he thought he was close enough, surprised his voice held steady. He couldn’t see the figure clearly, but more so than before he could feel the aura.
“My name is Kamacite. My General… Wolfeite… if part youma, too.”
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Posted: Thu Dec 14, 2017 5:46 am
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Pain climbed his leg like a knotted rope. He bounced on one foot and tried to shake it out, tried to dislodge its steady grip on the bone in his shin that it conquered so steadily, but relief was short-lived. Finally he clawed his pant leg up around his knee and addressed the boot beneath. Zippers and buckles protested until they fell off, until the sock fell off, until he saw the black bleed of his foot.
Then a voice greeted him, timid as the wind. The senshi was an easy find among the scrapyard waste, with his too-long hair and his billowing … Kimono? Yukata? Faustite seldom remembered the difference.
Nothing about him spoke the name of his sphere. Sunsets and stars decorated the waifish form, with hair as straight as the tails behind comets. He looked as nervous as Faustite felt, with his weakness bared to the onlooking world. Maybe he would know Schörl —
The question grounded him, and Faustite reeled back from his incredulity. Dark eyes found dark feet. Black blood wiped its sticky fingers along the curve of his foot, searching for a place to stain the ground. A thumb swept over the mess, tentative and quizzical. "I need a bandage," he decided aloud.
But the corrupted senshi provided more than a simple inquiry — he spoke another name, another title. Part youma cut across the air and wrenched his too-sharp attention from his punctured foot. He knew of others, of a single name, but… "There's more?" Faustite made poor disguise of his naked interest; brows rose and he looked on with a certain intensity that steadied on Kamacite's delicate face. He saw all the shivering lines of an introvert, how they intersected into a threatened wad around the young Negaverse senshi's mouth. The way those lips pursed, or sat idle for command. The way his eyes retreated just far enough into his head to find an awning in his brow ridge. Was he lying?
Faustite winced lightly as he balanced toes on the top of his shoe. This wasn't the place to discuss. He knew it wasn't. He knew the industrial district's daggers rose high with their propensity for listening ears, but his curiosity burned feverishly. "What can you tell me about him? What's his youma side like? What can he do?"
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Posted: Thu Dec 14, 2017 8:16 am
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The closer he got, the easier it was for Kamacite to see just how young the other officer was. Younger than himself it seemed, although not by much. He knew there were some recruited from young ages, although if there was a fine line between accepting child soldiers and semi-functioning teenagers, Kamacite wasn’t sure.
And the other needed medical attention. Kamacite had no bandages on him, unless the robes that fell over his slim frame counted. He could try to tear them and use that, or even his sash, but it wouldn’t last any longer than he was powered, he knew.
But the other questions also drew his attention. Did he not know there were more like him? More who were part youma? Kamacite knew that there were not that many Senshi in the service of the negaverse, but he supposed it was entirely likely that there were even fewer half youma.
“He’s terrifying,” Kamacite said simply, and then paused, knowing this wasn’t what the other young man wanted to hear. Maybe.
“He has the ears and tails of a wolf. Teeth too, but he keeps most of his face hidden. He has… eyes that glow yellow. Almost like the moon. When he howls it feel like the sound sinks into bone, paralyzing with fear.”
At some point Kamacite just started speaking, as though on autopilot, his voice still soft, maybe a bit haunted at the memory of crossing paths with the wolf for the first time.
Kamacite cleared his throat and drew himself back to the present.
“Here,” he offered, deciding it was better than nothing and undid the sash that was tied around his waist, even if he had to adjust his own clothing so it wouldn’t fall or come apart. “I don’t have any bandages. I… know someone who lives close by who might be able to help. He’s… like me. A Negaverse senshi, I mean.”
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Posted: Sun Dec 17, 2017 5:33 am
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The senshi was forthright about his general, issuing remarks that shaped Faustite's interest. So Wolfeite had an identifiable youma side — one ironically tied to his name. Was the change causal, then? It can't be. Our names are simple code words with a mineral theme. They mean nothing. They do nothing. If he didn't change his name, then it must be coincidence.
The remainder formed a fuller picture for this elusive general — including the stark, animalistic imagery with which Kamacite described him. Those promised greater insights into Wolfeite's character than all the rest, and left Faustite wondering over how his position thwarted him. Perhaps he ruled with too much fear.
Faustite's gaze flickered from Kamacite to the ground, where he searched for further nails. Meandering through discarded steel bought him time to think over Kamacite's details. The way his soul veritably left his body did not escape notice; in those moments, Kamacite looked nothing like a battle-hardened senshi with a proper general at his back. He looked like those he read about out of The Things They Carried, or other stories concerning war's hellscape. He looked like the brilliance of his star dimmed in recollection. Like he wished for an end to things remembered. Like he suffered a memory raw and bloody and unhealed.
"It's just for the blood," he supplied grimly. "I don't like the feel of it pooling in my shoe." Faustite accepted the sash gratefully, noting the grandeur of its shimmering color and translucent stripe. Compared to the uniforms of Negaverse officers, their corrupted senshi brought a sorely-needed flair. He wrapped the injury carefully and gingerly tucked his foot back into his unzipped boot.
He trudged to the sidewalk without further incident. "I might know him. I dropped a cat off out here once. He wanted to visit a senshi that stayed in an old, converted warehouse." He knew not the number of Negaverse senshi in the Destiny City division; maybe they numbered so few that they spoke of the same person.
"Your general doesn't sound like someone I'd want to meet," he chanced carefully.
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Posted: Tue Dec 26, 2017 10:41 am
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Kamacite felt on edge, but why… he couldn’t quite decide. Nothing about the young man seemed too threatening. Not yet. But just in case, Kamacite was ready to teleport at a moment’s notice.
He nodded when the other dark haired youth explained what he needed the ribbon for, not minding since he knew everything would be pristine again the next time he powered up. Instead, he focused on making sure his hair wouldn’t get caught in anything as he shook his head to the other’s comment.
“No. I wouldn’t advise anyone meet him,” Kamacite said quietly, letting his hair fall back down to his feet once they’d returned to the sidewalk, watching the part youma man warily.
“The cat didn’t go by Tiberius, did he?” he cautioned a guess and a frown. He didn’t know what to think of the cat, nor did he know what the cat thought of him. Probably that he was fairly useless.
“The senshi who lives close to here goes by Aue.” And hopefully Aue didn’t mind that Kamacite was going around telling people what his name was and where he lived.
He wanted to ask how the other was, seeing as his foot was injured, but he didn’t know how part youmas dealt with things like tetanus shots, and he figured it would be rude to ask or assume, so he didn’t.
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Posted: Wed Jan 10, 2018 6:21 pm
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Disappointing. He ruins the reputation of partially youmafied officers by behaving as he does. Kamacite still approaches me; he hasn't generalized his superior's antics. A duller officer may not.
At the supplied feline name, Faustite nodded. He remembered well the heavy weight on his shoulders, clutching with claw and paw while Faustite crossed the length of the land. The directions given were a catly mix of landmark and directionality, based half in smell and half in worm's eye views. The boisterous bag of meat and fur claimed a robust personality all his own, seldom forgotten and just as rarely praised. "The cat likes being a pain. Clawing at the door, plying for every favor that he can leverage. He lives with my superior. One day she'll commission his testicles into a fine brooch, I'm certain.
The sash was measured and tied about his half-black foot as he leaned shoulder against a wall. More black leaked out, staining the sunset sash along its bottom. When he was satisfied, he slipped his foot back into his unzipped boot and carried on at a careful pace. It keened only at higher pressures.
Aue's mention emboldened him; he knew, vaguely, the direction to reach Aue's residence. Warehouse number 934 if memory served. Still, he defered the lead to Kamacite, who sounded more familiar with the district's finnish occupant. "I met him once," he offered, hand trailing along the walls and fences passed. "He's gruff. Doesn't get along with the cat." I never thought anyone would choose to live in a warehouse.
"How did you meet him?" His gaze trained on the haunted senshi quizzically.
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Posted: Thu Jan 11, 2018 8:27 am
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Kamacite watched the other officer curiously, and a bit warily as he waited for him to wrap his foot and then get situated enough to be able to walk towards the warehouse in question. Part of him wondered if this was okay. Maybe he shouldn’t encourage this stranger to him to continue the journey there.
But this young man was hurt.
The ache of self doubt bubbled inside Kamacite’s chest, and he came to a stop more than a block away from where Lauri lived. It would be dangerous for Lauri and for whoever else was there if they were to approach as they were.
“I met him when he still wore white,” Kamacite said quietly, trying to concentrate to see if he could feel any other auras at the edge of his senses. Still too risky. He might end up having to go back to his dorm, after all.
“I was fortunate to discover we answer to the same General, otherwise I don’t think I would have made it out as unscathed as I had,” he admitted, lowering his head in shame at the memory of how easily he lost that fight, even if it wasn’t really a fight to begin with. Aue’s dedication to the pack was probably the only reason Kamacite was still alive.
“We shouldn’t get any closer like this. I don’t want to endanger him if anyone is tracking us,” Kamacite said quietly, shuffling his feet a little since he’d been looking forward to seeing how Lauri was doing, even if the likelihood that he was even home was slim. He should have called ahead of time, but couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“I’ll… leave… so you can get treated,” Kamacite offered as he stared down at his robes, tugging at the sleeves for something to do. They’d just met, after all. The other hadn’t seemed keen on sharing his name, so Kamacite didn’t expect him to want to reveal any kind of civilian identity to him either.
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Posted: Mon Jan 15, 2018 8:37 am
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"He wore white once?" Surprise underwrote his features. Lauri gave no hints to his prior occupation with the White Moon, nor did he speak of it, and Faustite never checked his file to determine any prior affiliations. Undercurrents of treachery were known to him — Arsenopyrite mentioned purification before, and Chrysocolla was once a part of the White Moon — but he expected to pick up on the ones who signed their lives over to the Negaverse. Kamacite's simple message framed the lot of it into neat perspective: no common, obvious thread tied one Benedict Arnold to the next.
That the Negaverse would afford Aue and Chrysocolla the same shot at high ranking seemed unduly trusting. The Finn, while gruff, appeared logical and sensible. But Chrysocolla? Chrysocolla was a case of promotion to ineptitude.
Faustite's attention fell back to sunset patterns and starbursts as Kamacite elaborated on their meeting. Faustite's gaze softened, drifting downward in thought. You don't act unscathed. You're telling me this is how you always are — sheepish and hesitant, with a thousand-yard stare to rival a Vietnam war veteran every time you speak of your superior. Were you once one of them? Will you follow Chrysocolla's example and receive promotions until you can't fulfill your position? Faustite watched peripherally while Kamacite bowed his head, the weight of his internal struggles accumulated as unwieldy lengths of hair.
But the constant struggle with an unreasonable general sounded distantly familiar. He faced that fight twice, and grew from it where he could. In that, they shared some blessed commonality.
They reached Lauri's homefront and Faustite shot out a splayed hand. "Wait." Lights flickered in the distance, but the streets lay swaddled in darkness. He felt no errant auras — not even Tiberius' faint cast. "He doesn't know me very well. What is he going to think of a stranger showing up at his doorstep?
"Even if the Negaverse talks solidarity, few learned it. I've seen enough fights between officers to know to be cautious. What if he isn't home, and comes back to find me there?" Implication bade a short silence. "Stay with me." The bid to plead fell dead on his tongue; his pride was yet three swallows too many.
"You gave me your name, so I'll show you who I used to be." Glamour began its crawl down his skin, an overtight suit desperate to paint him white. Sclera clawed their way around his eyes while a second pair of hands formed over black digits with too-long nails. An eclectic mismatch of high-priced items and bargain clothing formed the uniform outside the uniform — care unbidden to money or appearance anymore. He looked unimpressively normal now, perhaps forgettable against the sharp contast of his officer's form. "Before I was Faustite, I went by Elex." He winced, drawing his foot into better position. Why does everything hurt more like this.
guine puffalo helped with this tag
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Posted: Mon Jan 15, 2018 3:54 pm
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Kamacite stared in surprise at the request for him to stay with the other young man. He was right, though. If Lauri wasn’t there and came back to find a semi-stranger there, what would he do?
No, Kamacite knew what he would do. Lauri would assess the situation logically and rationally deal with the unexpected intrusion of an injured Negaverse officer in a way that would not cause himself any unnecessary risk if possible, but also with the knowledge that his actions reflect on not just himself but his General and the rest of his pack.
Lauri would help the injured man, even if he grumbled irritably in Finnish the entire time.
Maybe it was naive of Kamacite to assume all that of Lauri, but there had been multiple times in which Lauri should have left him to suffer the direct result of his own actions. Even as Pasi, he’d helped Yuuri when it had been Yuuri’s fault they’d both been injured in the first place.
If anything, Kamacite knew he should stay in order to make sure Lauri was safe. Not that Kamacite expected to be able to do much, and definitely not because he didn’t think Lauri was capable on his own, which he was. But he could at least do something.
Kamacite’s hands clutched tightly to his robes over his heart as the young man named Faustite shifted into a much more human Elex. There weren’t many who knew his identity. In fact, it was just Wolfeite, Aue, Tiberius, and the General King who had helped to corrupt him. Revealing himself to another was dangerous, but…
Biting at his lip, Kamacite’s aura faded. Long black hair turned short, and the robes disappeared, replaced by an overly thick plum colored sweater and dark pants. He tugged nervously at the sleeves, pulling them down over his hands before curling them over his chest once more to pick absently at the fabric.
“My name is Yuuri. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he greeted softly, and then drew in a deep breath so he could finish the trek to the door and lifted a hand to ring the bell.
“He worked as an informant for the Negaverse,” Yuuri quitely defended, the surprise that Faustite had about Aue once wearing white still bothering him. “He sought to join on his own. He could have easily killed me if he'd wanted...” he elaborated, although it was probably obvious that was what he’d meant before. The fact of the matter was that he could have been killed many times over, but somehow, for reasons beyond his understanding, he was still standing there.
When it was clear that no one was coming to the door, Yuuri reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet and RFID chip and waved it in front of the sensor so that the door would open for them. He then turned back to make sure the other young man didn’t need any additional help with walking, knowing he must be in pain by the expression on his face.
“I’ll text Lauri in a bit to let him know we’re here,” he said as he stayed beside the other until they were both inside the warehouse and heading towards the closest couch. “I’ll get the first aid kit. Do you need anything else? Water?”
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Posted: Mon Jan 15, 2018 4:50 pm
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To watch Kamacite's immensely long hair recede triggered a curious realization — their hair reached unnatural lengths as caused by their magic. He seldom considered it before, even when confronted with the difference between Poppy Anania-Sedgwick and Chrysocolla. But why? Was there a purpose?
Questions lost to the road, he found, as they were each quick to cross the wide pavement. Flat canvas shoes stepped syncopated over blacktop, chasing after a more sure rhythm that sooner reached the door. Elex waited behind Yuuri as wariness dug into his adolescent features. Black eyes tracked left and right, ever searching for what he could no longer feel. Deprivation of a sense left his fingers itching, his legs restless. Yuuri didn't wait long, however, and he was soon ushered inside after the covert senshi.
"Yuuri," he echoed, "he gave you a key to his warehouse?" Trusting. Especially for an informant. And you bought that trust — it's embedded in your tone. Is he really so lionhearted? Informing to the Negaverse, refusing to kill its agents, giving up his life to join our cause — a cause that kills strangers and preys on the weak.
No. I'm thinking about this in the wrong way. A wry smile threatened to form. Lionized in the scope of the Negaverse's moral nihilism. Isn't it? Or is this by his own judgments? Where are the lines anymore? I don't know.
Seeing Yuuri's evident comfort in the place, Elex shuffled in as far as the couch before he dropped on its cushions at once. The teen bounced once, twice before his weight settled in. Soon he stripped shoe from foot and sock from skin to assess the damage. Already some of his blood pooled through the sock and onto his insoles. The hole was deep, but failed to penetrate completely. A hand pressed tight over the wound stymied bloodflow, though he winced at its application. "Water, yes." I'm always thirsty. "Bandages." He leaned back against the couch, embracing the foreign relief it gave. How long had it been since he pressed his back against a chair, a couch, a wall?
"I don't know about antibiotics. My general says I'm too hot to get an infection, but half the time she lies to me and the rest of the time she makes fun of me. You must know what that's like." His gaze followed Yuuri, gauging for a reaction.
Bad general, good comrade. Boyfriend? Chain of romance? Did he corrupt for you? His tongue rolled over teeth in consideration, veiled behind closed lips.
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Posted: Mon Jan 15, 2018 6:14 pm
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Yuuri watched as Elex got settled, and then looked around for any sign that Lauri was actually there and just hadn’t heard the bell. Or had decided to ignore it. Most likely, he was at work for the night, which meant he wouldn’t be back until very late, which was disappointing but Yuuri knew that would have been the risk of showing up unannounced.
Which, in retrospect, was stupid and highly irresponsible of him. But the last time he’d shown up without warning hadn’t been so bad...
Elex received a look of wary concern as he spoke about his general, although Yuuri wasn’t sure what he meant by being too hot for infections. He crossed the room to the kitchen where he pulled down a glass for water and filled it.
“We’re pack,” Yuuri mumbled in explanation, doing his best to ignore how hot his face suddenly felt as he brought the water over to hand to Elex.
That was all it was though. It was convenient for him to have access to a place that he knew would be safe if he needed to hide. They had the same General. They trained together. Just a few days prior Yuuri had stopped by to celebrate Finland’s independence day with him.
“I don’t know if General Wolfeite lies to me, but he doesn’t make fun of me. He considers me an investment to help achieve his goals. No more, no less.” And for the most part, Yuuri had accepted that. He would do whatever was necessary, even if he would be disposed of after he served his purpose in the end.
"I'm sorry she treats you that way," he said somewhat mournfully, knowing how it felt to be made fun of and lied to. Yuuri then shifted awkwardly as he looked down at Elex’s bloody foot, a shiver of phantom pain running up his leg and spine. He wasn’t good with things like this. He hadn’t actually been taught how to do first aid. Everything he knew was from watching what Lauri did when he needed to patch either of them up. He hoped this wasn’t something better suited for a hospital visit.
“I’ll… get… some medicine… and the bandages…” he said as he took a step back, trying not to be obviously flustered. “Not antibiotics if you… don’t think that’ll work, I mean,” he quickly clarified and then hurried off to grab the kit that was left in the kitchen, but also took the time to…
Uh…
What would Lauri do in a situation like this? Obviously the wound needed to be cleaned. What had he done about Yuuri’s ankle when it had been cut from being caught in that fence? Yuuri had passed out and was in too much pain at the time to really recall the details now, but he knew they should at least clean it.
So he grabbed some towels that he hoped Lauri wouldn’t be mad about being ruined, and made a mental note to buy him new ones at some point, and took a pot to fill with hot water because he figured that might be a good idea, although he really had no clue, and brought that back first to Elex, set it on the ground, and ran back to get the kit.
“We… I mean… your foot should be clean before… bandages,” he said, slightly out of breath, his face red for a number of reasons. “I can help… Only if you want...” he said as he knelt down on the floor in front of where Elex sat on the couch, but didn’t reach to touch his foot just yet since he might not want him to, and instead opened the first aid kit so he could rifle through what was available to use. Like a two pill packet of ibuprofen, which he held up to offer.
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Posted: Mon Jan 15, 2018 7:06 pm
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Elex accepted the drink with both hands, and promptly brought it to his lips afterward. Clearing his throat, he spoke matter-of-factly. "You're people, not dogs." His gaze rested on the moving figure in his drift from room to room, in his meandering explanations and wilting confidence. He heard the last of the boy's strength drain out from the midst of his sentences, puddling on the floor like a child's shamed incontinence. He cocked a brow as his patience with the boy waned.
"It doesn't make sense," he started as he sank back against the cushion. "Packs are complex structures, aren't they? The alpha needs betas and omegas just as they need him. There's nothing to lead without followers. The lower eschelons build his position just as he dictates theirs. An alpha has no business treating his subordinates like stepping stones." He took another sip, this time with ibuprofen, as his mouth parched for water. Your general doesn't need you to justify his position. I know a Negaverse senshi who is equal in rank to my general, but has no subordinates. No obligations outside the ones given to a captain — and sometimes not even that. Your general doesn't need you like an alpha needs a beta, or even an omega. Your 'pack' is a lie. Propaganda. Poor circumstance. Thematics and semantics for personal gain. Suddenly he snorted into his drink.
"All we can do is survive our betters." Another sip, and the mug found its seat between his hip bones.
Elex crossed one leg over another as he bent his foot for examination. Yuuri was right — it looked mottled with all the blood stuck to his skin, and the newly-sprung rivulets finding their trail down to hiis heel, "Go ahead." Briefly he wondered how much of the bandaging would remain once his glamour dissolved away. Would his normal blood burn a caustic hole through the gauze? Would there be no change?
In a short shift of position, Elex extended his foot enough that any contact would seem less intimate. He knew very little about the soft-faced boy sitting before him — no more than a name. But his eyes often cast downward, and his shyness spoke of interpersonal troubles. Of a constitution that seldom held up against the trying words of peers and betters. How did someone like that survive in the Negaverse? What's your story?
"I have a question for you, Yuuri." With his elbow propped against the couch arm, he rested his knuckles against his temple. "Why are you so shy?"
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Posted: Mon Jan 15, 2018 7:54 pm
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A darker shade of red rushed into his cheeks as Elex spoke, coloring his ears and neck in the process. An itchy sensation across his chest meant that a nervous rash was probably starting to form as well. He didn’t look at Elex as he froze, his eyes instead on the currently clean towels.
Aue told him they belonged to a pack, that nothing was more important than the pack. He told Kamacite that, despite what Kamacite believed, he actually belonged to something bigger than himself. That there might be a chance for him to not just survive in this world that he was not built for, but thrive alongside those who fought for the same thing.
But Elex was right… even if it didn’t apply.
Wolfeite hadn’t even told him his name. Kamacite had to find out from Aue what their General’s name was. And that there was more to just being in the Negaverse than stealing energy and starseeds and trying to help Wolfeite reach the top of whatever throne he wanted to claim.
Gently, Yuuri reached up to take hold of the uninjured part of Elex’s foot as he ignored the way his heart beat furiously in his chest. One of the towels was dipped into the water and then used to gently dab away the blood.
He kept his mouth shut, teeth worrying at his lower lip as he did his best not to hurt the other young man. The follow up question about why he was shy had him swallowing nervously, the towel slipping from his fingers and dropping into the pot of water.
Yuuri quickly lowered Elex’s foot down so he could rescue the towel from the water and ring it out, using the movement to hide the fact that his hands were shaking. He felt cornered. Trapped. A welling of self-loathing and doubt rising up to overtake him.
He swallowed again. An attempt to say something was made, but all he managed to do was open his mouth. He couldn’t look at Elex, so he kept his eyes down. His whole body felt tense.
Why was he so shy? He just… was… how was he supposed to answer that question, and why would anyone want to know?
“I apologize… if I’ve inconvenienced you… but I don’t know why,” he mumbled, his throat tight around the words. Hands still shaking, although he did his best to keep it to himself, he reached for Elex’s foot again to wipe more of the blood away.
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Posted: Mon Jan 15, 2018 8:34 pm
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As Elex watched, Yuuri's face darkened to the hue of his injured foot. Deep red claimed his complexion as if all his body's blood rushed to his face. That is a lot of interpersonal power. Does it only work the one way, or are you just as easily brought to boil? To euphoria?
And yet you don't know why. "Interesting." His foot wavered with the fumble, and he raised it to sit once again on his opposite knee until Yuuri felt prepared to continue.
If he would.
Elex watched in silence for a time. You're beautiful but you wear too much rouge. I wonder if that's part of your charm. If 'pack' is just a word to excuse an uncharacteristic bond. But there isn't much to say, is there? Only bashful hands and blushed cheeks choose to tell that story. Your words are just excuses.
What a pity. Maybe I'll have it out of Lauri someday.
The silence lasted long enough. Elex offered an out where he could. "Maybe there isn't a reason." Another sip of the water, and he examined his foot. Angry still, yet less messy. Yuuri reached for his foot again, so Elex submitted once more to the process. Another few wipes and he could finish with the bandaging, perhaps with a test to see if antibiotics were really so extraneous.
The mug retired to an end table with a resolute clack. "Thank you for doing this." Yuuri looked like all of his willpower funneled into such a simple interaction. What was it like to hesitate so much? What change did that promise? And what did it mean to trust someone that much?
"What is it like? Knowing that you can visit your team member's house at any time, use their supplies, lean on them? You said he could have killed you. And this man who could have but didn't chose instead to give you a key to his house. And you know him well enough that you'd invite a stranger in and put off texting him about it. All of that spells trust to an implicit degree, doesn't it? So what is it like?" He watched in envy for his answer. What is it like to be human enough to trust? I've forgotten in a short eight months.
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