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 Posted: Mon May 31, 2021 2:22 pm
He felt an illness of absence, he reminded himself, en route to Axinite's office again. It was not an absence of illness. It was not a contagion. It was a heartwound that he carried with him. He carried an absence. An absence was felt, and thus, he was absent.
Faustite tried to outpace his pain and exhaustion. He only reached Axinite's door that much faster, his unburnt copy of the operation's details clutched in a lukewarm hand. He still felt tired. He still felt pained. He knocked and was given entry.
Part of being youma was being at home in his body. He was not at home in the absence of flame, its candlewick so dim that it couldn't find reflection in Axinite's face anymore. This time, he sat flush against the back of the upholstered chair. Being at home in his body meant knowing it would not burn. Nothing would burn. The world was unkindled today, as it would be tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, he expected.
"Sir." He kept his voice low, kept his eyes low. To raise them was to pull knives back into his skull. "I have the mission report, penned by Lieutenant Roselite. Working with Fafnir of Infiltration on the cover story." He set the missive on the desk, near the edge to avoid cluttering up Axinite's organization.
"Mixed success. Collected a boon of energy and starseeds with minimal casualties. Gauged enemy activity. Couldn't fell their forces, however."
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2021 1:51 pm
Axinite watched him closely, with caution and a gentle gaze. He was always careful not to make anyone think he was looking down on them--not unless they deserved it. Faustite didn’t. He reached across his desk to receive the report, and because it seemed like Faustite wasn’t expecting eye contact he instead focused on skimming over the pages. “They are a cancer that always seems to spread. You succeeded in the intent of the mission, if I’m correct?” He was reviewing the energy and starseeds, the notes compiled on their enemies. He was looking for the successes and the failures, but his eyes drifted from the page back to Faustite’s face. “...Were you hurt, Faustite?”
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Posted: Thu Jun 03, 2021 4:18 pm
Faustite nodded; the mission's intent was fulfilled on both fronts. A surfeit of starseeds and energy were now theirs, courtesy of the many agents and corrupted senshi that attended. Their names were itemized, credence given as best as he could ascertain. Special roles were highlighted where soldiers demonstrated more than a rudimentary grasp on their innate abilities. Beyond that, the operation provided a thorough test of Order's response given that time of day. There was more to do for that, however; one operation would not a baseline make.
Axinite's next question would have been more surprising had Faustite not run afoul of a few astute officers. He shifted, shut his dimmed eyes a moment.
"No," he answered carefully. He was too displaced to have suffered injury, but injuries were suffered. Lower ranks attacked by wayward youma, officers intercepted by the enemy, backup gone awry. His tussle with Puck only left him dentition marks in his knuckles.
But were you hurt wasn't always a literal question, or the result of a direct action.
"My youma was dusted," he added, and gestured vaguely to his malaise. Now wasn't the time to think about that, however. Kamacite didn't nearly break his nose so Faustite could blubber in Axinite's office about how he lost his youma. Cybele hadn't stood up to the Princess to buy him time to sulk.
"Everyone pulled together well. It was organized. Efficient." Eyes open again, he looked at Axinite.
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Posted: Sat Jun 05, 2021 7:47 pm
Axinite was quiet for a second, taking in how Faustite answered him but changed the subject quickly. Naturally, he could understand not wanting to dwell on painful memories, but he worried that it was something more, that Faustite blamed himself, or didn’t think he deserved to be worried about. Youma were destroyed all the time; Faustite had been around for long enough that Axinite didn’t doubt that he knew they reformed and could be summoned again. But, permanent destruction seemed more likely. It would explain his state, at least. He wasn’t smiling now, not even his polite little mask. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, with absolute sincerity and understanding. He didn’t speak as someone who had heard about the loss, he spoke as someone who knew what that loss felt like. “...It may sound callous, but the faster you bond with a new one, the faster the pain leaves. If you give it time, it fades, but. It takes a while.” He exhaled. “Of course, you are free to move at your own pace. But. Whatever hole was left when the bond was severed can be immediately repaired if you find another you are compatible with.” He didn’t think it was any comfort to know, but it was information to have nonetheless. “...But, that aside, I’ll read the full report later.” He lowered it and kept it close, clearly intent to keep that promise. “From what I’ve seen so far, what you’ve accomplished is worth merit. I hope you won’t think I’m tacky, but.” He turned to the side of his desk and opened a drawer; he seemed to have been prepared for this meeting--waiting for it, even, and drew out a black box that seemed to have some weight to it; when he set it down on his desk, metal clinked inside. Atop the box was a recognizable medal, though Axinite straightened it for presentation and introduced it, “The Medal of Respected Authority. For our officers who plan and execute a successful mission. But, that’s not all I wanted to give you.” He lifted the lid carefully and set it next to the box, revealing more medals--many of them, all the same design, different from any the Negaverse had distributed before. “...I thought, perhaps, it was worth awarding you and all those who assisted you. Queen Laurelite wanted me to pass along praise. She was impressed with your yield. We had these made to commemorate your success.”
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Posted: Sun Jun 06, 2021 5:09 am
It was disquieting to know that his youma's death was what coaxed out Axinite's authenticity. It could've been some drunken afterparty where Axinite gives away his fondness for little, round, Pomeranian-looking youma and lets one lick his face. But it wasn't; Faustite gleaned a little more of Axinite in the context of loss. Faustite tightened his jaw.
He reminded himself that Axinite could've come across this information from one of his many recruits. Surely he had at least one that suffered a youma dusting. But, when Axinite cited that it takes a while, Faustite suspected it was firsthand information. He otherwise knew he didn't know much of Axinite, that he wasn't a part of the Negaverse when the Sovereigns first joined them in the Negaverse's Destiny City operations. Whatever information was disseminated about Axinite during those meetings was not for him to know. Maybe it would've given more context.
For now, Faustite kept his suspicions to heart. It was rude to pry, after all, and even as a youmafied officer, he could remember his manners once in a while.
Faustite nodded nonetheless. Disconcerting that replacement was the preferred method to remedy youma loss, but not altogether unsurprising. That was a conversation he wasn't willing to have with himself, yet. Necessity would force it soon, however.
Faustite raised his eyes (ouch) when Axinite spoke again, and straightened up as his superior dug around in the desk. The first box coaxed a smile out of him, tired and dimmed as it was from youma loss. The second box received rote shock. He never would've expected anything of the sort — he didn't know the Negaverse produced more specific medals. Or that he could earn them. Or give them out. Or that they would produce them to match his — Faustite flushed red.
He was both excited and dumbstruck, and he felt more seen than he was used to, and anxious for how the other officers would respond to it, definitely still exhausted, and at a loss for words. Axinite would play witness to all of it.
"Thank you," he managed at last, over his chorus of thoughts. "I'm not — if I had thought — it's —" He held up his hands as if to say let's pretend that never happened. "Thank you."
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Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2021 10:03 am
Faustite’s reaction was unfiltered, and it brought Axinite enough relief that his smile was again genuine. “Thank you,” he said instead. “You’re the one who ran the mission. From beginning to end. It’s worthy of note and worthy of praise.” He didn’t draw attention to Faustite’s response; he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable or embarrass him. Axinite had relaxed, maybe reassured by Faustite’s genuine response more so than the carefully tailored answers he’d been given so far. Still, he could pretend like it never happened. “The medals are yours to distribute as you see fit. You’ve shown good judgment so far, and I have no doubt you’ll continue to display such. You’re under no obligation to deliver them in any specific time frame--whenever is good for you, however you'd like to do it.”
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2021 4:48 am
Faustite nodded, reticent to spend any more time on being thanked. He knew that Schörl would look at the mission's shortcomings, dwell on them, chide Faustite for not shoring them up. Talk down to him about how stupid he was for going after that senshi. He could agree with that part. Normally he would've agreed with all of it. But in the wake of Axinite's reception of the report, he wondered if — and it was a small if, but a resilient, if — Schörl was mistaken.
Axinite was smiling again, and it reached his eyes this time. Faustite blinked.
He was still stuck in a touch of stupor, looking at those medals. He'd never seen so many, all collected up like that, nothing but metal and ribbon kept neat and clean. Job-well-dones waiting for their recipients. How was he to send them out? Usually they made their way into hands at meetings, right?
Wouldn't do to meet with people looking like he did. But, he had the beginnings of some ideas. Unconventional ideas, but being part youma, he thought he could lean on that before anyone blamed him too much.
"Understood. I won't disappoint," he finished as he stood.
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Posted: Sun Jun 13, 2021 5:53 pm
“I know,” Axinite said, with absolute conviction. There was an expectation in his voice, but an understanding too. He reached beneath his desk and drew out a plastic container full of cookies. He stood, and passed these over to Faustite as well; he didn’t ask if he wanted them, and presented them with the expectation that they would be received without question. “I want you to keep working hard. And I want you to take care of yourself. And, if there’s ever anything I can do, I want you to remember that I’m here to see you succeed. But, I won’t keep you any longer. I know you have a lot to do. So be well, General Faustite. I look forward to seeing you again soon.”
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Posted: Mon Jun 14, 2021 5:06 am
It was Faustite who would be disappointed as he received the container of cookies. Axinite could bake like the devil, and his treats always paired marvelously with tea, but Faustite's inability to digest much of anything since Squiddy's murder had hampered his enjoyment. He knew of others he could give them to — the Negaverse never lacked for sweet fiends — but he would've preferred to eat them all himself.
Fingernails rapped over the sides of the box, and he raked them over the sides, as if the pressure and tactile response assured him that they were real, that they weren't melting under a heat he no longer had.
"There's always a lot to do," he muttered with a frown. Sometimes there was too much to do.
The hardest of those was to care for himself, and he didn't want to think about what that would entail as he shuffled out of the room.
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