|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 15, 2018 10:59 am
Wincing, Faustite dropped his pen to the empty paper. His wrists groaned terribly at the proposition of writing, and pain dulled sense too much to fashion useful word from useless wit.
The Citadel sighed its dreary ambience into him. It pushed its weariness into his bones and left him to stew over ap roject that seldom held his concentration. Chemistry practice held little value in the then and there, so he closed the textbook with fingers forced into a cup motion. Sighing, he looked about the study space.
Empty. The halls stood empty, and his short alcove echoed that sentiment well. The walls yawned with that same timeless boredom, and the old stones sometimes bore the telltale tallymarks from agents past. The place reeked of all the bitter outcomes to immortality, of all the seconds wasted when they no longer had meaning. The view outside, through the framed and bisected glass, offered more of the same — an endless cavern, ambiently lit, with only the view of the Barracks to draw the eye. Distantly, he could see a gaping hole where there once stood another building.
But Negaspace had no patience for him. It punished the idle through its lack of stimulus. He had only the chemistry book to keep him company through recovery, and even that lost its luster after a few short problems. His mind wandered with a fever unquantified. He was bored and similarly desperate to avoid thinking.
Faustite rolled his shoulders, careful to disturb the temporary hoses extending from his back. The heavy ache of mending flesh and bone kept him anchored there, in the corridor's aside, waiting for some change of pace. The hall was one of the Negaverse's busiest through ways, with the Database not far and the central staircase even closer, but they sat largely empty that day.
Like a punishment. Like a reminder that he'd done nothing in the past three days. Sighing, he propped his legs up on the opposite bench to his table and stared toward the ceiling.skye starrfyre crap start is crap, bored capt is bored and injured. lmk if anything needs a change!
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jan 21, 2018 7:57 pm
General Tourmaline had crossed paths on several occasions with Captain Faustite on the day of the annual tournament. Their interests seemed to coincide in some fashion or another and it had left her curious. Curiosity was not the cat's only reason for prowling the halls that evening, however. A particular match that she and Faustite had attended, the one featuring Super Sailor Aue and Captain Uvarovite, had left her grateful. Faustite had risen to help when she'd asked-- had she asked, or had she simply spoken the words and he'd acted? No matter. Tourmaline now found herself wandering the halls of the Underground. She'd stopped somewhere Above for take-out and was now toting a large paper bag filled with an assortment of things. She hadn't thought to ask anyone what kind of food Faustite might like. Aue was still out for the count as he healed from his injuries and Tiberius? The Mauvian was every bit as much a transient being as she was, wandering from place to place often enough that neither of them seemed to cross paths unless specifically requested to do so. Personnel files weren't likely to read like a page on a dating ap with Likes and Dislikes either. Would make it easier to pair off subordinates to superiors that way, though, she mused, making a very brief mental note to possibly suggest that to Axinite. Must like cats. Files did list information on known residences and where one was likely to be found, however, and she was relieved to find that she hadn't come baring the gift of dinner to a place where there would be no one to share it with her... She hoped. Tourmaline paused outside of Captain Faustite's door, rapping lightly on the wooden closure. "Hello? Anyone there?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2018 6:32 pm
The space wasn't so much his as a location that he quietly commandeered despite General Schörl's concessions. It functioned well enough as a seaprate study area from the occasionally-crowded library, yet the offered influx from its centralized location meant he wasn't listening to the Citadel breathe at all hours. He wasn't listening to the dull thrumming of his own thoughts as they circled each other in his head.
Faustite answered the knock with a quickness after shutting his journal. The erudite drifts of the teenager's mind remained closed to that inspection. "Come in."
The voice outside the door sounded familiar, however. Not so familiar that he might place it in the context of a hundred passing faces, but he recognized it nonetheless from recent memory. The tournament splayed its preening fights to enough gawking recruits and aspiring combatants that each fight ended with robust, varying cheers — the kind that sang life back into the Citadel's old bones.
And yet it offered fighters aplenty whose hears cries and jeers might match that voice's dulcet tones.
Perhaps he wasn't in such a mood for lavish company. "And shut the door behind you."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jan 25, 2018 7:42 am
"A bit of privacy with dinner, then? How romantic." There was no serious to the tone of her voice, more of an idle amusement with traces of dry humor than anything else. It kept light dancing through her eyes as she stepped in, a grin on her face as she nudged the door shut as Faustite had instructed. General Tourmaline was a young woman used to ignoring the boundaries of others, although it was rarely out of a desire to impose her will upon them. It was born from the pressing need to be a social creature of curiosity. She wanted to know others better; to understand them to a greater extent, a part of her not wired in a way that she could comprehend wanting to spend so much time avoiding social interactions. Fortunately, she often came baring gifts for these forced encounters and this case was no different. The take-out bag she'd brought with her was extended towards the young man. "I hope you don't mind Thai. I might have gone a bit overboard with things, but I wanted to make sure there was at least something out of everything you were likely to enjoy...." She spoke as if the meeting had been planned; dinner plans discussed as though they were friends that had known each other forever. Tourmaline granted that sort of familiarity to everyone on 'their side' that she hadn't been given reason to distrust ahead of time. "I'm sure there will be leftovers. If there's not a fridge anywhere down here I'm sure something can be arranged." She paused mid-thought, fingers lightly crinkling the brown paper bag as her grip shifted. "... You haven't eaten already, have you?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jan 27, 2018 11:28 am
You're making jokes. The thought came automatic, even as Faustite looked on with steady expressionlessness. With me, a captain. Jokes. Like we're friends instead of disposable soldiers.
The revelation came with mixed results — a desperate, boyish interest from his own dearth of friends over the years, and a soldier's callous disdain for mixing business with pleasure. On one hand, shitting where she eats rather than issuing more commands. On the other, a plaguey desperation for connections never really had. Together they formed a corrupted equanimity, always informing each other, yet never fully sbsuming one another in odious dominance. All the while, he remained as composed as he could.
Then came recognition: Schörl would find you a contemptible leader. Treating your men like men instead of meat-fodder. Crying over one and the other when they're all disposable. From that arose a second pleasure in acquainting with General Tourmaline.
She offered a takeout bag, and he motioned to the table where he sat — the wrist brace on his arm informed enough on why he never seized the bag himself. Too few days had passed since his brush with Thraen and he loathed to stress the newly-healing bone calluses. He appreciated her gesture nonetheless; it woke in him a nearly-forgotten joy in simple exchanges, in interactions not based on rank and merit. Like the mantle of General was shirked off at the door, and he left behind his stature as Captain. Real people enjoyed these interpersonal ties — people who hadn't warped themselves beyond recognition with chaotic corruption. People who could wear their own faces for longer than three hours.
"I'm surprised," he admitted at last. "I wasn't expecting anyone. I thought you would be visiting Aue right now, General. It's very generous to visit me." He very nearly felt as though the last sordid month hadn't happened, that his unending mistakes and transgressions coalesced beyond the safety of his bell jar.
"I haven't eaten, not for a while." Fingers rapped against the table once before he reprimanded himself for his restlessness. He motioned instead to the seat across from him in silent invitation.
"Are Aue and Uvarovite your subordinates? Friends? Lovers? "You looked remiss about the match-up."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 06, 2018 6:35 pm
"Aue is in good hands with someone I trust watching over him." Indeed, she had checked in with the Senshi of Lemons in his mortal form while leaving instructions with Yuuri to contact her should anything about his condition change drastically-- for better or for worse. He needed his rest more than anything, and having her hovering about would do nothing more than make his bedside companion more anxious. Amusement danced through her eyes at the questions Faustite asked as she set the paper bag down. She unrolled the top in order to open the bag, removing the contents until their was a proper spread laid out before the half-youma Captain-- two different kinds of curry (red and green), satay beef and chicken, along with a few other things that she'd found interesting enough to think they might be worth bringing. Two empty cups were withdrawn from the bag as she cracked open the gallon of slightly sweetened green tea she'd brought down from Above as well. She filled each while giving him a chance to peer through their dinner options, rocking idly on her heels as she lifted her red solo beverage holder. "To call either of them my 'subordinate' would be to discredit them both while also stating a simple truth-- They each rank lower than I, so I suppose it could be said that they serve my whims when called. Friends? I'm not certain that Aue has friends; definitely not a demeanor pleasant enough in most cases to be called friend ly. Lovers?" She let the word linger in the air for a moment as though mulling over the meaning of it and how it might apply to either the Senshi of Lemons or the silver haired fox of a Captain. "Aue is to me as a brother would be-- both brother in arms and family. Uvarovite is..." The lightest trace of color touched the otherwise pale cheeks of General Tourmaline making the green of her eyes seem all the brighter. Lover seemed far too simple a word for the many things he was to her, and so she would neither confirm nor deny that aloud,leaving Faustite to his own opinions there. "Under normal circumstances I would have been thrilled to see Aue and Uvarovite test their skills against one another. Neither of them were trained to do anything other than fight. We are made of gloriously strong, wondrously beautiful and dangerous things and we do not back down. Were they both at full capacity we would have seen a very different fight." One which she would insist on seeing at some point once both men had full recovered from their rounds well fought in the Tourney. Strickenized For the sake of options, feel free to assume that if there's one or two things off of this menu that Faustite might be interested in trying, she had it somewhere in the bag. >.>
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 10, 2018 2:37 pm
How easy is it to earn that trust?
Black eyes followed her wordlessly while she addressed the font of food from her simple brown bag. The smell reached before sight of the food did — robust and daring scents, marbling and marinating in one another to form a distinct and nearly palpable profile. Each of the takeout boxes opened to reveal contents both colorful and unique, and Faustite's eye was drawn to a duck salad that boasted a cut of crisp lettuce, crunchy cashew, and tangy pineapple. Each of the slices glistened with braise, taunting him, but he checked himself long enough to ensure the informality between then before he considered absconding with a plate.
Silently he listened to her while he looked to his food, scooping against knitting pains until his styrofoam plate was pleasantly full. Mixing demanded a mild effort from the plastic fork — an effort done while waiting through Tourmaline's willful answers to his questions. She's a general like the rest. What do the powerful have to fear that they choose to distrust? In answer, he sampled his dish.
So you claim the mantle of general and abandon your right to leadership. A napkin touched his lips. You took at least one of them to bed, by the color on your cheeks. Maybe both. I doubt Aue would turn you down.
"So you don't look at them through the lens of hierarchy. Interesting." The comment was meant, muted as it was through Faustite's typical rasping neutrality. He wanted to believe that some sense of human connection still existed in the third tier of their military, but grievous meets with so many of their ilk chased away such romantic trifles. In their place settled a bitterness — a certainty — that chaos purged what defined their human sentiments, for the leadership role oft dictated a position higher than mere man. Chaos perhaps pushed the lot of them toward one mind, and the ones left untouched (or less touched) became warnings or casualties.
People like Tourmaline mocked the hierarchy. They spat in the face of order and regimen and rule. They took for themselves liberties with those they 'lead' and taught in manners considered uncouth by those they called peers. And in their continued dissent, they foiled the careful practices put in place by the forebears of the institution. Tourmaline was a menace for how she entangled the clear delineations of captain-to-general, of super-to-general. She should be stripped of rank, imprisoned, and made spectacle for it. Faustite should resent her for it.
But he founded a careful respect instead.
"How would it be different? A battle is a battle." Umber would disagree, perhaps Schörl as well, but the particulars of fighting for prowess escaped him. "Uvarovite won by virtue of his youma. Are you saying Aue would win in a new match?"skye starrfyre apologies for the exposition
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2018 4:19 pm
"I see them through the eyes of someone who knows their worth-- to respect each of them and treat them as such, not simply as those who rank beneath me. Aue knows how to play his part and fall into the role of subordinate when need calls for it." How he managed to reign in the surge of irritation to keep himself from being directly insubordinate to General Wolfeite was sometimes beyond her, but Aue was a fine player of the game. Of course, a part of it was that she and Aue had once been of the same rank-- he a basic senshi and she a Lieutenant. The Negaverse made it easier for officers to raise amongst the rank and file for doing their basic jobs, with so many new recruits arriving to either pass or fail. Senshi, on the other hand? How long had Aue waited for their General to deem him ready for corruption? How much more could he have done had he not been held back by the failures of being a White Moon senshi? Of course he had provided them with valuable information, but at what cost to his own progression? Tourmaline would not think of Aue as lesser simply because he could not yet access the magic of an eternal senshi. He performed his duties just fine and oversaw the training of the next generation of senshi under her care flawlessly. He deserved to be praised, her own personal bias aside. "Are there not Generals that you lack respect for? Those who, despite their rank, you find it difficult to look at through the lens of one brought into a magical military organization? If not Generals than peers-- others who have risen to your rank that make you question their qualifications? Or do you simply accept that someone thought them worthy of stepping up to the next rank, and that means it must be so?" Her tone held no traces of accusation, only simple curiosity. It was emphasized by a delicately lofted brow as she looked to the youma Captain, holding up a fork which she then popped into her mouth. The sudden spice was a bit unexpected and she found herself coughing softly after swallowing. "A battle between two fully healed individuals is much different. Were Uvarovite himself not wounded in a prior battle he might have gone against Aue himself-- to start out, at least. The two of them can be rather impressive going at it."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2018 5:48 pm
Strange to find a general that values her subordinates. The Negaverse schema prevents us from seeing each other as people — as lives with pasts and futures and independence. How did you escape that, Tourmaline? Or did you learn to hide it better than the likes of Schörl or the others?
Faustite bit back a grimace at the growing twinge in his wrist, the muscles ever tiring under their newly-donned yoke. Fresh-knit bone stretched its calluses severely. He switched to his other hand for maneuvering the fork and kept his attention on his food at present.
Until Tourmaline wound through a curious question, one which earned his darkened gaze once more. A chuckle escaped him alongside a wry smirk. He realized, then, that Tourmaline entertained a very strange and almost forceful interpersonal style with lesser officers. The food a preface and a debtor, which settled the stomach and lulled one into a familial sense. The conversation often lilted and traipsed where Negaverse formalities sat heavy on the tongue. Tourmaline herself commanded a sense of confidence and ease about her person, as if regarding Negaverse protocol as a crutch that other generals required to earn respect. She wasn't wrong — and yet she cornered the wary like prey. With Faustite sufficiently subdued, she drew out her claws and fangs. Brandished them cunningly.
"You ask a leading question, General." He faced her fully then, before looking through and beyond her to the better dictates of his wit. "That's a hard ask to answer, pinned as I am between crystal and stone. I learned to obey without question. But would I be worth my captaincy if I couldn't think critically?" The taste of vittles returned in memory and he swallowed it downwith the aid of drink. Too few nights had passed since that incident; Faustite wagered that he'd never escape that experience. "I should ask you the same."
When she settled back into the theoretical battle, he listened to the cadence of her words as his tired fork maneuvered through the salad. Another few bites were taken — as much as his wrists permitted — before he again returned attention to her. The smirk was caught and met with a disapproving scowl. You have a penchant for vulgarities, don't you. His offense faded before long. "You're two steps shy of running a side show on them."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2018 6:47 pm
"I ask not to encourage you to out anyone, but more to make you think. This isn't the Inquisition, Captain." His darkened gaze was met by the bright gleam of amusement in her own eyes. The smirk curving the corners of her mouth remained in entertainment, twitching ever so slightly into a grin. Her expression remained in place for a moment only to return to 'normal' as she too reached for her cup. "I would be lying if I said I did not sometimes question the rank that some have risen to. Is it my place to? On the records?" Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug as she leaned back in her seat to make herself more comfortable. "No, of course not. We have all been trained to respect authority; to do as we're told knowing that we are asked to do so for a reason-- an important one at that. Off the record?" Tourmaline paused in thought, for the first time that evening taking on a look of seriousness in her contemplation. " Off the record, there are those of us who aren't fit to have subordinates under our care. It is our job to make sure that they are trained up and trained well. It is up to us to make sure that they are strong enough to stand on their own should something happen to us, or to make certain that if they are not they have someone to turn to. We become dangerous when we harbor so much paranoia that we hold ourselves back from making allies of those we fight alongside." Fire had replaced the amusement that had filled her eyes only moments ago. She spoke with a quiet passion, the words personal. She could only imagine how different things might have been for her and the other members of the original Pack had there been any sort of contingency plan in place when their General disappeared. You're two steps shy of running a side show on them. His words drew her away from the darkness and she laughed, the sound more of a cough at first before it turned into a chuckle. "Are you telling me that you wouldn't pay to see it?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2018 7:06 pm
"I'm not telling you anything," Faustite answered blithely. She was present for Aue's fights — if she paid him mind, then she surely knew the answer to that jab. That she could joke at all, ostensibly absent malice, almost struck him as absurd. He spoke now with a Negaverse general — one of the highest ranks and incredibly bolstered with chaos — and she conducted herself as if a normal person. Gone were the marks sought: the ravening sadism, the subtle insanities, the inability to recognize others as thinking, feeling beings. It was as if she never joined their ranks.
But she still proved that she did not yet understand him.
I already think. I already observe. I already question. You're a little late to that party.
When he spoke again, he spoke sharply — his words honed ever more jagged with a fervor matched to hers. "I know. We have generals that ruin the subordinates beneath them. Generals that fail to set an example. Generals that misunderstand the very basics of morality so badly that they can't convince themselves to follow the paths they preach. Generals deluded into taking Metallia for a god and the Negaverse as her church. Generals that treat their subordinates like pitiless sacks of meat and gorge on them when bored." Faustite's countenance strained to suppress a snarl, an ever-present twitch of the lip marking its vehement battle. "The Negaverse is full of gaping holes — holes torn by those who were promoted to ineptitude. My eyes lack definition, General, but they're not blind. And I'm not thoughtless.
"I don't like what I see in the Negaverse hierarchy. But it's beyond my power to change it." For now. One day it'll be my turn to be promoted to inetitude. What then?
Faustite swallowed against the knot in his throat. Arms rested on the table in a loose fold, ever sensitive to the braces, and his foot wagged ceaselessly under the table. The words he next spoke were laced with a morose cadence. "They're training us to stay the war, not end it."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2018 7:35 pm
Tourmaline had hit a nerve, unexpectedly. That Faustite spoke the way he did opened up even more questions-- more about him personally than his views on the Negaverse and its hierarchy. Assumptions would have to do for the time being, though. She'd not come all the way down here to pick at scabs and reopen wounds, old or new, for either of them. "My apologies, Captain. From time to time I am prone to thinking I am the only creature in existence who might take question with the actions of a former superior officer." Her tone had evened out once more, the edges softening once more under the sandpaper that had grated them. "I try to keep a certain amount of transparency between myself, those I have recruited and those that I serve alongside. I won't let them suffer because I have. Whatever madness takes me, I won't let it harm them." A deep breath of air was drawn in, released slowly as Tourmaline shifted forward to set her glass back on the table. "It does seem that way, doesn't it? All the more reason for us to train ourselves to be stronger, to push harder. Absorb or obliterate. One of us or nothing. Aue says they're a bunch of argumentative assholes on the other side anyways.... We can be more than that. We can be better."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 09, 2018 7:51 am
Faustite's demeanor cooled, his attention dropping from Tourmaline to the long wall behind her. Brilliant were the crystals there, alight with an unclean glow, a purple that backlit the general with drama and brooding. Now that lighting made a carcature of itself wit hhis better recognition of Tourmaline's nature. She backed from that bit, and he preferred that reprieve.
But his stomach soured from his reawakened frustrations. Carefully he folded shut the takeout lid for future use.
For a long moment after she spoke again, Faustite remained silent. His answers were in the work of his hands, the mull of his jaw, the way his spine shifted to and fro in his ever-present need to move. And when he spoke again, he tried to pare any conceit from his tone. "You would spare them that much." Spare the rod, spoil the child. Even if the child learns to like the rod. "You are a friend to your subordinates."
He knew, instantly, that Tourmaline would be the general that Heliodor would choose for himself. She stood as someone who placed genuine worth in her subordinates, perhaps even the ones she scarce knew, and protected them where she could against treachery. She bonded with Aue, with Uvarovite, and Faustite assumed more. She knew the other lives to these officers who were also men, who were unblemished by a monster's chaos and could live beyond Negaverse bounds. Beyond the uniform, they might be her workmates. Her university peers. Her bosses. Her baristas. She knew all these aspects, and she chose to acknowledge them. That was what Heliodor so desperately sought. "I have a subordinate who would like you. He's desperate for that protection. That actualization."
Faustite leaned forward, his weight bearing on his elbows. He mulled Tourmaline's empty pep talks of more and better and efficient. They spoke well of Negaverse propaganda. All the more transparent it becomes.
After a moment, he spoke again. "What would you do if one of them was no longer with the Negaverse?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 11, 2018 6:25 pm
"Friend? No. Not to all of them." Aue and Uvarovite, yes, but she considered each of them special circumstances. She had known Uvarovite as a civilian first. It was upon her recommendation that he had sought General Aurostibite as Magiore Carpenter at Romano's Constitutional Haven in regards to employment that would see him following the path of the Negaverse down the rabbit hole. And Aue? Aue... Tourmaline's mind drifted, a brief flash of the Senshi of Lemons battered, broken and bleeding coming forth to the front of her mind. Her stomach tensed, threatening to lurch against the food she'd taken in while talking to Faustite. If she let her mind linger for too long on Aue and his current situation, holed up in a hospital as his body began to heal, she would be ill. She would lose what dangerously fragile grip she had on what was left of her sanity behind the mask she wore as Genera Tourmaline. Faustite's question drew her away from one edge, pushing her quickly towards another. A sneer curled her lips, anger flashing to light in her eyes. She could claim no half-youma side to blame the sudden surge of white hot rage curling within her, replacing nausea at the thought of a wounded companion to fury over a former loss. "They would be hunted and re-educated, or they would be put down and re-purposed to better serve the whole." The only way that one of hers would leave the Negaverse would be by her own hand-- or by the hand of a member of her pack. Aue, Uvarovite, Wolfeite and soon their flock of recruits to follow. That rage continued to simmer silently even as she settled back once more, collecting just enough of herself to speak in smooth, deliberate tones. "Assuming you meant traitors to our cause, and not those lost in battle... Those lost are mourned as we learn from what it means to be left behind."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 14, 2018 7:39 pm
Her admission fingered some as friends, and Faustite's expression faltered. Buried there was a dichotomy — at one point, selebratory of friendships existing in the Negaverse; and at the other, mournful of another lapsing leader. A certain madness touched every general; he knew he shouldn't be surprised anymore.
Her jump to purification spoke something of her trust in her own officers — or in how she read Faustite. Death was not the first thought, but an afterthought. "I see." Those words: hunted, reeducated, put down, repurposed. Your word choice shifts to dehumanize the people who were once your subordinates. "I asked too much." Her naked sneer, her vitriol epoused the betrayal she would feel at such an act. It would be a personal slight, Faustite assumed. A blow directed to her specifically. A point of weakness. A failure, a jab, an attempt to dismantle her. To undercut her team. Whatever the reason she would tell herself, her sposture spoke that it was personal.
Briefly he toyed with the thought of requesting a transfer to her team, but the Green Lion devoured far more than the sun. Beneath the table, his foot once again bobbed incessantly.
Faustite drew breath after a timed silence. He considered the words for those passing moments, and found in them no great answer to the question burning on his mind. 'As we learn from what it means to be left behind'. What does it mean to die in the Negaverse? Does it mean anything at all? No — how could it hold meaning when we dispense death at command?
"If you're worried your recruits might turn coat, then there's a senshi you should know. He presses for that betrayal. Blonde hair, floral garb, stone boots. He ambushes with his magic and confiscates all starseeds and energy. Warns against Metallia. Then he breaks their wrists." Faustite held up brace-bound hands for emphasis before dropping them back to their position on the table. It's perilous, that warning. Very convincing. He already demonstrated his power as an eternal senshi. If one of your recruits meets him twice, their choices would be purification or death."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|