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[B] i will show you something different {Connie x Faustite}

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Strickenized


Garbage Cat

PostPosted: Tue Dec 19, 2017 7:37 pm


After a while, a corpse loses meaning. Their value rots lke the skin, leaving behind their own environmental damage in the psyche. Faustite learned this, surely, as he looked on at another casualty of city life. This death looked more like a hollyood overdose for how crusted vomit streaked down chapped lips, and for how the eyes milked over unseeingly. With a disturbing quietude, he realized the blue-white hue reminded him of skim milk. The kind his mother used to buy when she was on her crusade against milkfat and how it singlehandedly destroyed her thighs.

Maybe it wasn't chaos that broke all those generals. Maybe it was something as simple as exposure.. As watching a few too many empty bodies with full hands. He turned from the scene before the flies started to gather. It was recent — experience taught him that.

The broken areas of Destiny City were not his favored locales for energy or starseeds, but he wanted to try his hand at finding the more morally compromised agents who still deluded themselves. He wanted to find how deep the corruption ran, and by extension, how necessary that salve was to retaining their psyches. They were his first picks for youmafication, perhaps because they bore the most similarity to him. Perhaps simply because he could relate to them. Or he was simply in the neighborhood in hopes of finding Arsenopyrite. His grasp on his own motivations slipped like fingers on wet skin.

But the night stood empty and dull with his comrades far beyond his auric purview. He considered calling out on their communicators, but such an action felt too official. Too clean. No one was caught offguard when they arrived at a meeting point anymore. They each knew better. Interest lay in the way they simply splintered open when caught unawares, right? That was how Schörl conducted her business.

But as he crossed the great, flat strip malls with their puddling garbage watter and their perpetually broken HVAC systems, he felt no signs of familiar darkness. He felt nothing of even the Dark Mirror. The only tastes on his periphery belonged to the untouched. Sometimes they encroached.

Don't make this a fight.


guine
hope this works for a start!
PostPosted: Thu Jan 25, 2018 4:13 pm


If experience taught her anything, it was that the closer she got to understanding something, the farther she was away from actually knowing. This world full of magic and monsters was nothing but a fantasy a year or so ago, from a movie or book. And yet, somehow she’d found herself caught up in its waves.

Even though she hadn’t had too many horrible experiences for herself, other than being afraid for Tristan’s safety, and seeing how everything had affected him, she knew things could quickly change.

Winter break meant there was nothing to really do besides explore her magic. Not that she had much magic to begin with, but she was faster and stronger, so that was something, right?

And she knew enough by now to be cautious around those of a darker aura.

She paused, wondering if it would be best to just turn back, but curiosity got the better of her and she continued her approach through the desolate land.

“Hello,” she greeted, her voice raised so the other would hear her before they saw each other. “You feel different than the other people I’ve met. My name is Connie and I’d love to talk to you.” It was better than pointless fights.


Strickenized


Guine

Crew

Lonely Explorer



Strickenized


Garbage Cat

PostPosted: Mon Jan 29, 2018 11:54 am


You're making this a fight.

Faustite sighed his disappointment out into the cold night air before the auric blip came into purview. Weak and wilting as it was, Faustite knew his chances bettered than with the ilk he often crossed; he could inform Schörl of a success finally earned.

And when they — she — approached, decorated in quaintly useless ceremonials with freedom in her hair and politeness in her mouth, his will for violence withered. She was not the sort of the redheaded earth knight, nor did she have the fierce protectiveness of Hopeite's eternal senshi. She was trying to have a conversation. Trying to learn answers. Trying to be civil.

Trying to treat him civilly.

But orders and livelihood prevailed long before any credence was given to conversation. Barbary watched him, stalked him. The Negaverse expected a separate set of morals carved out for itself, even as this page solicited Elex Yorke's sensibilities. How long had it been since he had a conversation? A simple interfacing untouched by rank hierarchy and unfilled by Rowan Cameron or Sinope? But straightforward conversations devoid of romanticisms still harbored strings — sometimes more.

So when she approached, voice raised, he approached as well. Purpose was cemented in his gait. Hands remained at his sides. He smiled at the irony of it — the ease of it.

"I'd love it if you left, Connie, because I'm under orders." It was all the warning he spared before he reached out for the front of her pretty gold shirt.


guine
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