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Posted: Fri Jul 20, 2018 10:37 am
July heat was its own bother. Laden with sweat, like a gown too tight on his figure, the captain forced himself onward. Draining energy, culling starseeds — he never eluded these duties. And lest he wanted to reduce himself to Castor's state, he would enjoy them without bending a slave's knee. Already had he learned so much the taste of murder and strife.
He finished the count for energy half an hour ago. The choice for starseeds was one far more methodical, however. Unlike those that culled the too-rich, the too-poor, the homeless or the criminal, Faustite placed far more care in situation. He was a figure of myth, a man embedded in machine, and any visibility risked spread of that legend. Spread meant notoriety. Notoriety meant more senshi on patrol in areas spotted, and areas acquainted. Again, he thought of Castor as he passed beneath a spruce tree's shade. Those laurels on his crown — could he really murder a youma in a single shot? And what did that mean for the tiara he wore?
He hadn't time to consider it, however. Ahead, a lone jogger with a pug's face and a too-large jersey turned onto the well-shaded, paved park path. She passed beneath trees with her ponytail jogging as buoyantly as she. Jostled by the breeze, it flickered this way and that, like so much an annoyance tacked to a horse's rear. He moved to catch her.
Starseeding wasn't always a matter of visibility. He recognized the paranoia hanging about her in a pall — in the way her shoulders bunched together, in how her gaze tracked this way and that as she looked for phantoms in the trees. Soon her headphones were gone from her ears, pulled down to her neck, and she half turned in her jog to check behind her. He knew that paranoia; he knew the helpless victimization it implied. He knew the way that all the world liked to grind it benign indifference into her. He knew how it forced so many callous demands out of her. He knew how she would, one day, meet a worse fate along this path if she kept her soul and all her future incarnations (where Castor, again, found his way to the foreground). Then they would have something else in common.
But a starborn flare cusped the horizon. His gait slowed, then stopped. Her silhouette shrank, shrank, shrank, until only the leaves waved at him. Until his company was a mouth full of sour.
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Posted: Fri Jul 20, 2018 1:00 pm
July was one of the few months of the year in which Encke may have wished for a slightly lighter outfit, but he had to admit that he did appreciate the advantage that had come with his new upgrade. The damn arm warmers were gone. His arms could breathe now, and it was a blessing, especially on a hot summer's night's patrol. He was certainly used to being warm, especially since he ran a lot, but being hot wasn't necessarily welcomed, and even just a little bit less on his body provided a nice way to mitigate that. It felt nice to feel the breeze rush by his arms as he ran, cooling and relaxing. Sometimes, all he ever wanted to do was run. Running on his comet seemed like the most ideal situation. Perhaps he should see if there was a track hidden somewhere on the surface-- But the real reason why he was powered always called, and Encke's thoughts were derailed by the presence of a nearby radiating Chaotic source. By now, he could pinpoint what each Chaotic source was with relative ease. Captain of the Negaverse, he figured. Likely a monstrous one, since the sensation came with a deeper sense of unease than just the typical captain's pulse. He figured he could chase a captain away rather easily now, and so, he shifted gears, moving in the direction of the source. It was then he was greeted with the sight of familiar pipes, pushing black smoke into the air. Aha. With the way the other man seemed to slow to a stop, Encke figured his presence was already obvious, and there was no point in attempting to be sneaky. So he didn't. Not like he could be when his outfit was just about tantamount to a glowstick. "You again."
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Fri Jul 20, 2018 2:33 pm
Not Castor. Feels close — that same lobotomy level of brightness.
Neither were invisible now. He who glowed and he who breathed through pipes were each their own visibility nightmares. What graced the lightning senshi now were wings at his back — small, white, coiled like a stylish accessory. That eternal's mark explained the undue brilliance. "How proudly you stand," Faustite greeted quietly. "How boldly. You must be very impressed with yourself, Senshi." One hand found his hip while the other dropped low at his side. His gaze, accusatory and appraising, fell on Encke from where he stood near the tree line.
"I have no civilians for you to rescue today." He watched the points of action next. The points of work, expression, idleness. Would he attack so without provocation? What a wonder.
What a wonder still if he knew Castor, if he met the Prince of Hail cradled in his own midnight wings. What a curiosity that would be, caught between two senshi's umbra. Caught like a fly, breath bated for the slow melt of his body. Ever the default was treating him like one. Lately that treatment drifted toward human only if they could ply their angle at him. Purification for equal treatment or pursuit for sport. Human for his sensibilities but otherwise a beast — a convenient target.
While he knew better than to go anywhere, Faustite shifted his leg from one hip to the next, then back again.
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Posted: Sat Jul 21, 2018 12:00 am
Encke was definitely proud of his new Eternal form. He had wanted access to this power for years. He never understood why the cosmos seemed so unwilling to grant it to him. That had changed recently, and Encke had certainly since then carried himself more confidently, a bit more proudly. He was sure he had to be one of the strongest senshi in the city, or, at the very least, part of the group of them. He knew he could do more to protect people. He knew his abilities were more dangerous. He felt better, faster, stronger in general. Encke could even visit his comet more often, which by itself was one of the biggest advantages of his new form. Nevertheless, the captain's mutterings about how very impressed with himself Encke must have been just caused him to roll his eyes. "Save the speech." Never mind the fact that Encke was now Eternal Encke, he was more concerned with the second point that was mentioned. "Is that because you've already consumed them?" No civilians to rescue was a loaded comment. They might not need rescuing because they were already too far gone to be rescued. They might not need rescuing because the monster was currently leaving them alone. They might not need rescuing because the monster just had not gotten to them yet. All three possibilities were concerning and honestly likely, especially considering their last encounter. Encke was uninterested in taking any chances, and he knew he couldn't let the piped monster leave. But he also had no good opening to attack him yet, nor did he have a good reason. And so for now he would wait, keeping an uncomfortable distance, arms crossed over his chest as he waited for an explanation.
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Jul 21, 2018 10:53 pm
"How astute," Faustite drawled. "Maybe I ate them, maybe I let them go. Maybe there's a family lining my pocket. Maybe murder was more cathartic." Faustite eyed the senshi, noting all the ways the glow projected into their ambience and colorized the milky pollution in the air. At night, such marks stood out terribly — beacons calling all shadows to spread in their wake. Cicatricial wanderings lit with power, they were, and their purpose was opaque to the young captain. What would it take to know? Which of them would trade their secrets to turn lives?
This one laid all his suspicions bare in squared shoulders, raised arms, a cross over the barrel of his chest like a second protection. What joy a shield in so much smoke. How well it guarded needful breaths.
"Search me if you want your answer." Faustite opened his arms, hands raised, palms facing his adversary. His countenance remained boyishly dull with nary a crease to bely an expression. Feet moved a shoulder width apart. He considered the trees for their held silence, the air around them for more prying auras. This scout felt like a mile-wide screaming beacon in his own right; they couldn't avoid company for long.
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Posted: Sat Jul 21, 2018 11:22 pm
His brow quirked. The monster's drawling sarcasm wasn't lost on Encke, but it unfortunately made it much harder to interpret what exactly had been done at this point. The concept of a whole family lining his pocket made Encke's heart sink, sure, but he had also mentioned letting them go or perhaps just outright murdering them. Another terrible thing to do, but at least that would allow their starseeds to return to the cauldron. ... He shouldn't have been thinking of that as an at least. It took him by momentary surprise when he was invited closer, and he dropped his arms to the side for the moment. Really? Encke bit his lip, looking over the captain's form. Besides for the smokestacks that pushed out whatever poison they contained into the atmosphere--was the Negaverse contributing to climate change? Never mind that, stay focused--he couldn't see anything that was obviously something to worry about. Going closer carried its own risk considering whatever that noxious gas was, but he could always try to cover his mouth for that. At the very least, he would know for sure. And if he discovered something on the monster's person, perhaps he could try to get it returned to the Cauldron. Or to a person, if one was nearby. "Alright." It was probably too trusting of him, but Encke didn't take too much time to think of that, mind temporarily forced into focus by the concept of saving lives. He advanced forward, perhaps making their distance yet more uncomfortable, holding one hand cautiously near his mouth in case the captain tried any of that smoke funny business again. The last thing he wanted to do was come home coughing up blood again-- When he reached the captain, he attempted to keep one eye on his face while reaching around him to locate any pockets, with the intention of fishing out any hidden starseeds.
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Mon Jul 23, 2018 9:38 am
'Alright.'
That was it — a simple confirmation that he'd step into the captain's space. Perhaps the difference in strengths emboldened the senshi, or he found reason to believe he could predict Faustite's smoke. Perhaps he could. Perhaps those glistering streaks over skin and under eyes imparted cursory clairvoyance. Perhaps his magic's stunning effect assured him of safety. Or perhaps he was beautifully, stupidly bold.
He felt the first grasps. Light and fleeting, as if expectant of a reaction. They felt around his hips, his back, cautious of the pipes, he noted. They patted down with a detached, almost sheepish firmness, never lingering. Faustite never flinched at these passes. He stared ahead with the same neat detachment trained into him after many dealings with his general — the same detachment deployed when first meeting with Remarque. There was but one starseed on his person, tucked into his breast pocket behind his vest. It stood out lightly for all the tightness of his uniform; this senshi would see it. Suspect it. Consider it for its fresh, glittering novelty. Its promise that he might restore another life or send it off to be reborn again and again and again and again and again.
Faustite moved slowly, his elbows still up and braced, but swiveling lightly as the eternal grew more invested in searching his person. Who knew what energy orbs he would find, after all. Slowly, sure and steady as moonset, Faustite's right hand edged over hair, never touching, never lingering close enough in case the senshi drew back, and down that hand cusped over his occipital bone, following the curve of spine where so much muscle hid it away, even against the tight whiteness of that uniform. He settled, hovering, over the sanctum for the senshi's starseed.
He reached when the senshi found his pocketed gem.
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Posted: Mon Jul 23, 2018 3:21 pm
Patting the monster down like this was ... strange. It like he was at an airport as a security agent, trying to find a hidden weapon. Except it was a hidden life. With Stillwaterite, this action had been different. He knew where the starseeds were hiding. She very blatantly dropped them into her pocket, vanished before he could truly get a hold of them once he attacked her for it. He had to find some way to get her onto the ground first, though, considering she had just teleported away when he attempted to snatch her coat. This man wasn't leaving, though. He was remaining still. Letting him do it. He wished he knew where the seeds were, if they were anywhere. This was awkward, and he didn't like being this close. Put him too close to the pipes. But he had to do what he could, right? The shape, slightly altering the shape of his chest, eventually caught his attention. Ah, there. Encke shifted, moving to press his hand against the monster's chest. Mm, there was something. Behind the vest. Was this man really going to just ... let him take it? It seemed odd, but he had offered; perhaps he knew better than to fight Encke, considering his considerable power over him. The monster's aura felt weak to him now, weak in a way that it definitely hadn't before-- Just as he grasped the seed and went to pull it, he felt something slide into his body. Encke's heart stopped. ... Of course, he was an idiot. The monstrous captain only wanted him close for one thing: his starseed. Of course. He was distracted. He was vulnerable. He was in close proximity. So that was it, eh? He reached the top of his existence as a senshi, eh, and then he was just going to die there, felled by his own ******** good will. Sounded dramatic. Sounded like the type of s**t he'd hear in a drama he auditioned for. Too good for his own good, or something. He almost laughed. It was funny on how time seemed to slow down when one was about to die. Not an entirely unfamiliar feeling. It was too bad Richard would never find out, but perhaps it was for the best? Richard would be safe, at the very least-- But something felt like it was boiling. Could he really want to die? Did he really want to give up? Why would he give up here? Chaos was still here. They hadn't succeeded yet. Encke didn't want to leave the world yet. There was more to do. More to see. More people counting on him. Richard was counting on him. What would he being doing to him by just disappearing on him? Just disappearing on his sister, his mother, his in-laws, his fellow senshi, his fellow knights-- His chest felt like it was on fire. Hot, too hot-- It was then that he noticed the hand go flying out of his chest, the presence very much gone, now. The assailant crashed against a tree as a white glow overtook Encke, bright and searing for a moment, before calming, leaving him just standing there, and the captain? The captain not. Encke looked down at his hands, stunned for a moment. Had he... had he just expelled him? He glanced up to the captain. He'd ask if it was possible but it clearly was. There was a part of him that just wanted to break out in laughter, and there was a bubble of a snicker that Encke was unable to help letting bubble out despite himself. "Nice try," snapped Encke, advancing to where the captain was slumped. Something in his step seemed more confident now. "Coward move honestly. But I know where that seed is now, so, thanks?" Perhaps it was because he knew nothing could be done to him, not really. Nothing that would spell a permanent end. He still lifted a hand to his lips to cover them cautiously. It didn't do much for the smoke puffing out. It was a start. Encke leaned over the form against the tree and attempted to dig his hand back behind the vest, going to yank the hidden starseed out.
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Mon Jul 23, 2018 9:03 pm
White exploded at him, blinding, breeching, thrusting him from grasp, from standing, and he staggered backward, trying to find balance while the world careened, while the paved walk lurched sideways beneath him, and his shoulder struck a tree while the rest of him collapsed against it. Swallowing, he waited the precious seconds for breath to come back to him.
In wariness, he tracked the scout's approach. Breath trickled in, stutter light, scattered as a headless army. Black curled arachnid-dead against the trunk. Faustite rasped another breath, scrabbled against bark to start pulling himself upright. Moving dislodged the ache in his shoulder and ribs; already he felt the starts of bruising running across his side. The senshi's comments were no more than background noise, no more than rustling leaves, while he struggled to his feet.
Your strength is just an accident arising from the weakness of others. Whatever the nature of that light, it occurred simultaneous to penetrating that starseed sanctum. Bleach-white light burst from the senshi, a veritable star, just as he should have passed fingers through skin. What an irksome truth, what a waste. What folly to let his ilk live, however long, to propagate that tactic. Corpses or draining cattle they would be.
How ends your meaning, senshi.
Intentions clear, smoke billowed around the captain like a pall. Even if the senshi covered his face, the smoke proved thick and dense enough. He bent at the waist and felt his way while backing out of the miasma.
Drawing a hand out from his body, Faustite curled his fingers against his palm. Another breath rattled in, bleaker by the second.seiana_zi Dispersion ;; Range: 3 foot radius with Faustite at the epicenter. Duration: 30 seconds Use Count: 3x Miss Chance: Circumventing magic, stepping out of range. Effect: Faustite draws his hands together, and a sound like an opening lighter may be heard. Smoke pours from Faustite in a deafening blast. Those caught in the initial blast endure a ringing in the ears and mild disorientation. Breathing smoke causes burning lungs, stinging eyes, and frequent coughing. Ringing ears and coughing symptoms linger after leaving the smoke for 5 seconds. Any lasting damage is defending player's choice.
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Posted: Mon Jul 23, 2018 9:25 pm
Encke knew the meaning of that pop now, and he took in a breath before slamming his lips shut and pinching his nose. It gave him less hands to work with, and it gave him a limited time, but it was something. It didn't do much for the thickness of the smoke, the watering of his eyes, the ringing in his ears. His ears were screaming at him, everything sounding distant and tinny beyond the loud bells that overtook them. Attempting to hear anything beyond his mind would be futile at the moment. If the monster were to say anything or to make any significant noise, it wouldn't matter -- Encke wouldn't be able to interpret it through the noise ringing in his own head. But his ears weren't the concern, at the moment, the starseed was. His eyes were burning, and he could feel the tears welling up. He had no idea what this smoke was, still, but it was an irritant at the very least. There was a moment where he wondered what it was made of once again, perhaps even wondered if he could somehow capture some of it and drop it off somewhere to get it analyzed, but Encke yanked his brain back into focus, refusing to let it wander off when he had felt a lost life in his grasp. He needed to try and get to the captain. It was clear that the captain was taking this chance to perhaps make it harder on Encke. Why else would he have done what he had? Encke felt around, in the general direction of where he had been headed though in a bit of a wider radius, attempting to get a grip back onto the captain. He needed to breathe. He was feeling light-headed. Not yet.
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2018 11:22 am
Hands groped, fumbling, stumbling, wrenching over clothes and edging about his pipes. Faustite tried to duck and scramble but strength and speed claimed senshi the victor; the price of his aggressions was paid to palm — a pittance, perhaps — and left him ever the pauper for it. Faustite gritted his teeth and dragged himself onward.
The portal popped, thick with tumult. Out crawled the corpse of a three weeks' withered man, stark naked, eyes lit only by a flashlight brilliance. It rasped out all the dust Faustite could hope for, further clouding the air. But this desiccated corpse of a youma shambled as slowly as a Romero movie; its arms even extended in that same comical cliché. Within its first step, it smelled the scent of a transcended eternal in the air, and, owing to no more survival instinct, shambled forward as quickly as bone-wiry legs allowed. Feet curved inward as if the tendons were too far shortened to straighten them out.
But it was all Faustite needed. His corpse of a distraction presented, the youma captain was left free. He shuddered in another breath, lungs finally processing again, finally churning smoke into the air again, and he wrenched up more of his energy from the wells in his core. Already he knew a hundred points about the city — theaters, bars, schools, post offices, party venues — and each would have replacements. Each would pay for protection of the city.
I need to report this. Faustite didn't linger; he left the youma in care of his aggressor as he vanished into ether.
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