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 Posted: Thu May 10, 2018 8:50 am
Dutiful, that's what she was. Dutiful for a fault. Despite knowing very little about her faction, their motivations, why she was corrupted, she knew she had to gather energy.
So she was down at the warehouse district tonight. She wanted to collect easy energy, so who was easier than exhausted workers loading and unloading things into giant warehouses? Maybe some homeless men, but then she'd have to worry about smells, diseases, and a lot of other mess.
Of course thunder cracked loud above her head. April showers and all, so that would be great if it rained on her. She would love that. The Japanese senshi rolled her eye as she moved as silently as she could over rooftops. Her eyes were on these workers in the cranes. They'd be taking a break soon, she knew from being here for a while, watching. She would make her move then. It wasn't hard, being a pretty woman with an 'injury', to gain their trust and attention.
"Just a bit longer," she said, skidding to a stop on the building behind the moving crane.
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Posted: Thu May 10, 2018 9:08 am
The deep clouds of an early summer storm afforded him enough flexibility that he could see the city during the evening. Dark as it was, nearing night's visibility, Faustite and his smoke blended into the rest of the city's muted colors. And as he stood on the city's teeth, looking out over its serrated, dreary landscape, he saw that much of its denizens ushered themselves inside in lieu of the storm. The move often looked audacious to him. You might melt.
But Faustite had business — personal business. March and April proved themselves turbulent months, spent often in tangles of poor circumstance or scrabbling to hold onto his life in the Rift. Now he claimed a little freedom for himself. Now he faced a few hours of downtime between his own duties and the iron thumb placed on Heliodor's idiocy. He could visit Lauri once again as Eion, as his facsimile self, and enjoy a little company as peers out of uniform. He could visit a tea shop if he had time afterward and enjoy a cup he didn't brew himself. Or he could confront the desperation of his life that he'd been avoiding for months now.
Most importantly, he moved. He kept moving. He crested warehouse after warehouse with meticulous caution, ever aware when someone passed by under their tin-lined roofs. And when he crossed enough that he reached the sinewy knots of industry in the center of the district, he knew he neared his destination.
But, on his right, he felt a pulse matching Aue's. A corrupted senshi, super, out in the districts. Had Lauri just powered up? Faustite cut across a few buildings. He surmounted an old, multi-story warehouse with sky lights peering down onto busied workers. Ever wary of the crane swinging about, he leapt atop a set of silos with a building sat upon them. And then he found the head of straight black hair to belong not to Aue, but to a senshi he'd never met previously. She looked fixated on the crane herself, so Faustite knew to speak quietly in case she jumped at a sudden intrusion.
"Hello, Senshi. Draining or recon?" Hands found his back as he approached, and he nodded toward the crane if she looked back to survey him.
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Posted: Fri May 11, 2018 12:02 am
Had she been hyper focused on the crane, she wouldn't have sensed him coming. In truth it was nearly just that. She'd only realized someone was approaching moments before a voice met her ears. The short woman straightened herself up and took a few steps back from the lip of the warehouse to see just who was asking her such a question. No wonder the energy was familiar. He appeared to be half youma. It made her feel odd, seeing someone else with youma parts. Behind the black patch the empty socket throbbed, almost in sympathy. "....Draining." She was staring, it was rude, but she had never met, or even really seen, a half youma. Did he look like this all the time? Were his youma parts fighting him like hers had? How long had he been like this? There were so many questions in her head right now that she wanted to ask, but she wouldn't. "Yourself?"
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Posted: Thu May 17, 2018 9:44 am
"Mmm." His black gaze left her eye, where it constantly dodged between her covered right and her working left, and reached the construction scene. 'Draining' wasn't quite appropriate — she sat in the stalking stages as she looked for an opening. She, too, was cursed with the need to touch her victims before she pulled away their lives. Everyone but generals faced that conundrum. Would it be too much to offer help with that? Was it weakness to want solidarity?
Faustite stalked along the roof just far enough that he could crouch behind an imposing HVAC unit. The thick steel box, tall and cumbersome, shielded the captain well from any prying eyes below while keeping him in sight of the Negaverse senshi. "I'm looking for someone," he answered simply. "A Negaverse super senshi like yourself."
From nothing came a stark purple pen, sharp in line and crested with a single ostentatious prism. It sat light and demure in his hand as he rolled it about thoughtfully. Soon his daggered fingers caught hold of each side, and in finding the bisection in the pen, pulled the halves apart. Out burst the foreboding purple glow of the tablet's display, where information concerning the database, his quota, and his personal notes hummed at the ready. His fingers traipsed over the flat surface with youthful expertise until he called up a messenger. From there, they tapped a message to life. The question was simple — Are you working? — and he shuttled it off to Aue with the tap of a virtual button.
There lingered the matter of the senshi before him, he supposed, but checking up on her database entry now seemed impotent. He hadn't yet learned her name.
And he hadn't yet introduced himself. "My name is Faustite. Who are you?"
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