Prompt 6 (Mysterious Mail): The mail is always bad this time of year, but it seems like something's gone a little extra wrong. You’ve received something that’s not quite right. Maybe it’s a box that looks like it’s from a completely different era, wrapped in brown paper and tied with dark twine. The box has scuffs and scrapes and a yellowed name tag--with your name and address on it. There is no return address and no indication where it came from. If you open it up you will find some sort of timeless item that feels as though it is easily decades old. It may not be particularly valuable, but this item seems to have been lost to time--and somehow ended up in your possession. Any time you look at it you are filled with the same sensation of timelessness.
Maybe it’s an old letter with no return address, no name on it; it's impossible to tell who it is from or how it got there, given that it might have arrived in your mailbox, your front door, or maybe it even just showed up inside your house. If you open it, the letter is dated from decades ago and contains some surprising information; it is a letter lost to time and contains some secret. The content of the letter is up to the player; it might contain a confession of love, an admission of guilt, the secret of some crime--no matter what the letter contains, it leaves you with news to reflect on. Do you try to seek out anyone mentioned in the letter? Do you investigate or try to hand the letter over to someone else? Does the content of the letter reflect your life in some way? ...Do you have to worry about someone breaking into your house to leave strangely coded messages?
Maybe you’ve gotten both and really need to phone up the post office to see what’s going on.
Passing paperwork other people’s way was kinda his go-to thing. Beat dealing with it himself, and better yet? It gave him an extra excuse to seek Aqua out. Gave him better reasons besides ‘hey I’m here to bug you’, and ‘Are you still breathing’, and ‘Jet’s got moves and does murder! Howaboutthat?’
He’d been told Aqua was office bound — by choice — by — hadn’t seen him since his arguably flashy trust tango just after orientation for the new-joins. Knew he was alive, had survived the skirmish mostly unscathed.
That was important somehow.
Making sure the surly blond was alive and well, especially after everything. Every lingering question and scrapped together sleepless night that’d sent him spiraling over his own Generals state of living dead, brought back from the brink of scattered remains…
Important enough that he’d stored away in subspace — something golden-dark, strong yet smooth - a bag of ice to chill it with. Glasses, not red solo cups, because he could be better than a frat-heathen. Could try for better, for this - as he knocked on Aquas office door politely.
Rhythmic shave n a haircut rap-tap-tap over solid enough to ‘keep the world out’ doors. Patience far easier to pull on this time then it’d ever been before; nearly bottomless even. Either because he’d learned to wait, or because he was too tired between all that had gone on after to fly apart at the seams. Didn’t have the energy, but he would damned well would make time bend to his will until it lay crippled and dead beneath his heels - however implausible feverdream a task.
Posted: Thu Dec 23, 2021 8:10 pm
Aquamarine hated desk duty.
Unsurprising — he hated everything. Paperwork simply happened to be the current bane of his existence, given that he hadn’t been able to hold his rapier properly in weeks. He was healing, or so he was constantly assured by whatever medic he happened to harass at any given time, but he was hesitant to rely on starseeds and so took to healing at a normal rate.
Which meant he must endure the paperwork for a while longer. Occasionally he thought to avoid it entirely, spend all his time healing at home where he didn’t have to worry about any of this nonsense, but Jet was still hellbent on his mission to capture the Princess. Aquamarine tried and failed to talk him out of it, repeatedly; this left him with no other option but to help. Since his current handicaps made fieldwork a terrible idea, he was stuck going through old reports, searching for any information that might not have made its way into the database.
He could kill every one of these useless agents for not putting the database to better use. There was no way they had a Princess walking around Destiny City (had even previously captured her) and only two agents had any information on her.
The knock was almost a welcome distraction.
Almost.
“What?” he snapped in lieu of a simple “come in.”
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Posted: Fri Dec 24, 2021 12:58 am
Oh, so if he knocked nice he got a terse ‘what’ instead of a hard boiled ‘<******** the hell off’. Good info to know, and Albite tucked it away for later. Stored that tidbit like a squirrel prepping for winter. Would lose half the nuts - he was sure - but might get a whole forest of knowledge labeled Aqua, someday.
Tried the knob carefully after he got an answer. No point in playing twenty questions through a door when he could twist the gentle give of the handle and just — step in.
“Sup buttercup, got a minute for uh — not mail, but like, me? Though there can be mail if you want it, cause….”
Stood there and stared, quizzical gaze that lingered while he fell silent; for maybe a little too long. The letter in his hand was suddenly forgotten, mostly because he didn’t give a flying ******** about it in the first place.
But also — because he now understood somewhat of the *why* that went into the blond playing desk jockey.
How words like ‘office bound’ and ‘laid up’, didn’t quite describe what he was seeing. Vagueness of rumor mills that clearly needed better grains of truth to gossip on, for all that he hadn’t thought the General hurt.
Could’ve been sick — or tired — or getting *laid up*. Didn’t look as well as he had — hell - was it days ago? No, weeks? One? Two?
“You okay?” words that he asked, though what he meant fell along the lines of ‘is there someone we need to kill’. Wished he had the earrings on, coulda shared thoughts and pictures for all the ways it wasn’t easy to convey that sorta s**t in words; aside from the way his eyes narrowed and smile became a little more pinched at the ends.
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Posted: Tue Dec 28, 2021 10:07 am
Desktop covered by stacks of folders and loose bits of paper, Aquamarine had no place to slump back backward, leaning heavily into his chair.
He wanted to be annoyed by Albite’s presence. He wanted to snap at him and send him away as soon as he set foot in the office, tell him to ******** off back to Faustite or find someone else to aggravate; the castle was full of useless agents who might better appreciate his company. Aquamarine was rarely in the mood for company under normal circumstances. Injured, he tended to have even less patience. Mostly he was tired and sore and hungry all the time, but lacked the will to do much about it.
Apparently, he lacked the will to b***h at Albite, too. Didn’t even snarl at him for calling him buttercup. Just looked up at him and sighed, then adjusted his position in his chair again, like maybe moving an inch to the left would make it more comfortable.
Nothing was comfortable when his shoulders ached and his thigh burned and his right hand was stuck in a cast.
At least some of the heavy bruising had left his face. It’d be a shame if anyone saw him as anything less than gorgeous. (It was, after all, his only redeeming quality.)
“I’ve been better,” he admitted. Couldn’t think fast enough to come up with anything insulting to say, so he offered an explanation, “Had a run in with a Knight. Lo and behold, he knew what he was doing and didn’t make for an easy target.”
Failed to mention the smoke bomb. As far as Aquamarine was aware, that part of it was still under wraps, lest their people start to panic.
“What do you want?” he asked, for lack of anything else.
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Posted: Wed Dec 29, 2021 3:09 am
As good an invitation to stay as any Albite had ever heard, let himself in easy and let the door click closed softly in his wake, decided he would find himself a way to get some space cleared enough to be sat across the blond. The fact that Aqua wasn’t spitting fire and brimstone got his ‘uh oh’ hackles up. He expected scathing retorts and a sneer that woulda made his ancestors wither n writhe.
Got an injured General that reminded him far too much of Faustite, sometimes. Needed to take better care…needed to not be here..probably…
“Do I ever have a real reason for being anywhere?” Tossed the errant slip of aged parchment encased in an even older envelope atop Aquas precarious pile. Waited a breath to see if it’d jenga the lot of it to the ground before he made himself at home.
“So..Is this a Knight with a capital K — or a Knight like AshaKnights squire? Hell…does the Knight come with a name - or is this a thing with them - their all just ‘Knights’, like—” lilt of a tease in tone, offered lightness while his gaze roamed, soft scrutiny for all the little hurts before it settled on the mans face, as if he coulda ascertained all his answers from looking alone. Aqua said a Knight took him to the cleaners; seemed more like he’d been hit by a bus, and barely survived.
So, a helluva Knight for sure..
N here he was - working, of all the ******** things he shouldn’tve been doing. Was it little wonder the mans office held a bed? Crazy, devoted…Albite coulda sighed a worlds worth of air, for all his thoughts on things.
“Also — do you want some?”
And he was asking the question for the sake of filling air with sound. The words perfunctory, for all that the glasses apperated in hand the second he’d started speaking, clear clink of items taken out and thunked down carelessly atop whatever lay in Aquas workspace. Golden amber - like an Evans brand — like Kentucky whiskey with a side of sweet. Next to no hesitation as he poured a scosh more than a shots worth for Aqua, thought it was only fair he took care of his ‘not quite a bosses’ drink well before his own — either the blond’d drink it or Albite would. No skin off his nose one way or the other.
“It’s honeyed, I’ve always had a bit of a sweet tooth...”
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Posted: Wed Dec 29, 2021 10:01 am
Aquamarine eyed the envelope first. The pile it landed upon wobbled like it might collapse under its miniscule weight, but stabilized before Aquamarine had to dredge up the energy for a rant. He shot Albite a glare of warning but left the envelope where it was discarded.
“Capital K,” he said. He wondered if Jet’s bitching about Ashanite’s lack of accuracy traveled so far that everyone was making jokes about it, or if Albite happened to be there at the time.
Deciding he didn’t care one way or the other, Aquamarine continued, “Knight of Jupiter named Sessrumnir. He’s in the database. Or he should be, I put him in there. Might’ve made a decent agent, but now I’d rather see him dead. Unlike most of them, I suspect he’s had some sort of training.”
He paused to glance at the offered drink, considered the possibility that it might be garbage, then decided he didn’t care about that either. Aquamarine grabbed the glass with his good hand — the left — and took a healthy swallow (it wasn’t garbage), watching Albite over the glass.
He didn’t like Albite any better than he liked most people (which was not at all), nor did he care much about what became of him. They were all expendable, every last agent and senshi. The sooner they understood that, the easier they’d find it to do their job.
But Albite was… well, he was annoying for sure, but he also… listened. Sort of. He seemed to give a damn about… his teammates? The Negaverse? His superiors? All of the above? Aquamarine wasn’t knowledgeable enough to make a determination with confidence, but maybe, just maybe, Albite wasn’t a total waste of power. If Faustite hadn’t burned his face off yet, he must be worth something.
So he cautioned Albite, “Avoid him. If you come across Sessrumnir, don’t engage. The situation is being handled.”
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Posted: Tue Jan 04, 2022 9:18 pm
It was cute, that Aqua thought he read the things people posted places. N’ he liked the database well enough, understood it’s importance from Axinites standpoint. It was a good way to get quick info — solid on the most pertinent details — like colors n shapes n s**t — like…A paint by numbers picture of a thing.
Didn’t show all the things Albite liked to see though. Didn’t express a personality, whether the enemy one was running into had a quick temper, or liked to talk, or a weak point in the form of friends — or —- didn’t express all the little hurts a thing could deal out.
Not the way simply looking at Aqua did. An assload of info gleaned far better from just staring at the blond. Noting the lack of shark-sharp bite in his words. The dull sheen of the sapphires sat in his skull, how they should’ve been icepick harsh for every little affront, instead of tired.
How Aquas injuries dogged and dragged him down — for all that they didn’t quite make sense — seeing as…
He didn’t know much about knights, knew there was trick Magic n other s**t — didn’t know that they carried sharp pointy bits, or steel, or if they were strong enough to snap bones n stab people clean through. All the ones he’d met were weak, wary, ex-friends turned foe that scattered stary-fire from canes.
Held trick coins that had not a scrap of Magic to them at all.
“Either he’s had training…or you’re..uh…s**t at fighting. Sept, I’ve seen you fight, soooo…..” drag and drop of sounds like coins down a well. Let them plink lightly over a far softer smile that was tinged with worry. Easy thing to smooth over, with honey and fire, to smother with an easy sigh while watching Aqua drink.
“I’m s**t with names — but it wouldn’t hurt to check the database, yeah? Keep tabs up on all the s**t I should probably avoid — but uh — ultimately don’t. Not on purpose, I swear! Scouts honor! Sometimes I just run into people ladder-bars higher than my stepping stool supports.”
Let the words wind on like his locks, all bound up in a tangle while he sipped; touched chilled glass to his tongue and wondered on all the reasons he’d come by —-
“Whatever though…so long as ‘handled’ means ‘soon to be dead in the ground’. I’m good for that. Surprised your boy doesn’t have half an army on crusade after the — uh — Knight…..I like that you two’re smart enough to draw lines on that sorta thing though.…The ones who need a deep dirt nap, versus the ones who just aren’t worth the effort.”
Swirled amber and sucked the sweetness off his teeth.
Wondered…
“Issat why he killed Ochre?”
Sunshine Alouette
Posted: Tue Jan 11, 2022 10:05 am
Aquamarine might have decided to give Albite the benefit of the doubt (for the time being, anyway), but that didn’t mean he didn’t find every word out of Albite’s mouth irritating. Albite talked too much, rambled like he had no filter between his brain and his mouth — a potentially dangerous trait if he couldn’t shut it off in the wrong company. Aquamarine figured listening to Albite’s prattle was the price he had to pay for someone who bothered to listen to him.
No one listened to Aquamarine. Just Jet. The rest avoided him or made assumptions, or both. He didn’t normally care, but…
Maybe Sessrumnir hit him in the head one too many times and it made him go a bit soft.
Aquamarine set his glass down. He twisted it around atop the desk, let the base scrape over the wood, eying Albite from across the expanse.
“Jet killed Ochre because Ochre disrespected the Queen, and in disrespecting the Queen he disrespected all of us,” he said. “Ochre earned her favor once, but apparently decided it was worth nothing to him. He abandoned his allies and defected mid-mission, and had the Princess purify him.”
Aquamarine sneered at the word. Purify. He might not necessarily believe in what the Negaverse was fighting for, or care about the things he did believe, but he was beginning to wonder if terminology might be half the problem. (That, and some of the utterly useless people they happened to recruit.)
Regardless, Ochre’s actions spoke to his treasonous heart. If there was one thing Aquamarine valued, in whatever skewed manner he valued anything, it was loyalty.
“Ochre’s actions proved him unworthy of the power he was given,” Aquamarine continued. “There aren’t many traitors worth offering a chance at redemption. Loyalty is a part of who one is. You either have a sense of it, or you don’t. Jet determined that Ochre’s actions were indefensible, so he made an example of him. The Queen ultimately agreed with his decision. If Jet managed to subdue the other treasonous fools who went to the Princess that night, they would have met the same end.”
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Posted: Wed Jan 12, 2022 2:35 pm
Albite blinked, through it all, tilted his head like a Labrador who'd heard 'outside' or 'bone' or - some interesting tidbit that was enough to get him to focus. Not on the warm sweet slide of honey and heat down his throat with every fresh sip, but on Aquas words. Another sort of honey, equally important, more ice than fire. N he loved it. Listening, every second, to someone who knew s**t and had been there and was in charge. Who carried that weight like he knew what it meant. He ate it up, n' grinned.
"Ohey -- wait -- so's your man into the Queen?! Ha-hah, badass. M'all for it, yanno? Chivalry ain't dead, n' he can hand her traitors heads if it'll get him an in, I suppose." tipped his glass to that and dragged the tease in his tone out - long - slow smirk of a thing. Glint of tableside lights in his gaze. Cause that was ******** interesting to hear. N' cause he'd cared about Ochre - just - not anything like how he cared for anyone else.
He'd only known Ochre for a second, after all. A moment, a -- brief conversation in a half charred and flamed out hallway where he'd been, admittedly, a bit of an a** to the guy. Not that much in the mood for talking. Not like he usually was with others. Regretted that, immediately, for the spicy bits of info that'd dripped offa the auburn braided Eternals lips. Lamented it slightly after - only because it was an end - to conversations, to knowledge to -- future avenues, especially with how few and far between the pool of 'Eternals' to pull knowledge from seemed to be. Especially those with experience. Who'd survived n' stayed.
"Don't mistake me. I'm not mad Jet did it. N' as far as redemption goes? With some - well - it's a waste to try. Cause, let's be real, it wouldn'ta been that? Redemption." tsk and sneer softly settled on a sigh. Lit up his eyes with questions, with conversations that begged answered, for the way his thoughts all swirled in his head thicker than any syrup. For all the ways he wondered if Aqua had answers, if he'd ever even considered, or if he was just heel to toe steps behind the rest and doing his damndest just to keep his head above sea-level on a good day.
Treading water. Taking names. Being supportive. A good leader, a good fighter - by Albites standards at least.
"See - there's parts in that -- of all the things that happened on that hill -- that make me think we need to have these conversations. More often. With more people - as a ********' whole. What drives a person to do the indefensible, what makes a traitor turn?"
Did Aqua care -- did it matter? Yes, no, maybe? Whatever, it was fun to talk at the problem, to poke gently at the person sat across him. See him alive and well - think of ways to find ******** - A Knight - n' do some late night reading, for if he ever had a run in. So he could know exactly what kinda retribution doll out....Just in case.
"How many times can a person be broken open, or re-made, into 'not a person' - before they're better off being put down? We're people, in the end, right? At the end - not pawns . Even if we die that way. Stardust, n' ash, eternally reborn, in service of - etcetera. It's real pretty bullshit. Except for how it's not enough to sustain us....we need more. Ochre, maybe? Needed more. Was too far gone to have gotten it - got put down - cause it was better at that point." ran on with the words that wouldn't stem to flow, wondered if he should - leave the bottle to pour - offer more - stream of liquor and consciousness all tangled into one.
It was a shame Jet couldn't have gotten the others. It woulda been pretty to see Jet, all righteous fury, run 'em through. For his Queen.
"It's just - consider this - yeah? How many people we've lost lately, just like that. How do we make it all --- stop. I admire your boy, and I ********' get it. I just also wish it were a little less public. Same as I wish we'd had more of a headsup in hand with this whole. What are we calling it after the orientation? The corruption party of 'too damn many' lives to rebuild from scraps. Like pouring concrete foundations onto cliffsides made of sand..."
It didn't hold, wouldn't. Even if Albite didn't know Ochre from a hole in the wall, just like he hadn't known the others who'd fallen in line before him, formed a ******** que, and followed after him over to the other side like it held something pure, bright, and better. He knew 'People', knew they cracked, broke, shattered into ten-million pieces. Until all that was left was -- something that could never be useful, could never be remade as 'whole'.
Some things? They could be repurposed, recycled, and then some? Just couldn't. How he wished to his core that some of those who resembled all his fearful little thoughts, his curious queries, didn't also occasionally resemble members of rank and file. Sometimes too many.
Sunshine Alouette
Posted: Sun Jan 16, 2022 11:33 am
Aquamarine’s expression tightened — defensive, maybe, or irritated even further, made to think about Jet and the Queen. Jet being into the Queen. Aquamarine knew that wasn’t the case. Jet was loyal and admiring, but not in the way of lovesick puppies, overly ambitious underlings, or amorous men looking for some fun on the side. Would Aquamarine mind if he was? Not necessarily, not if enough perks came with it, but the thought that other people might make assumptions, might misinterpret Jet’s devotion, didn’t sit well with him.
Maybe his dislike for the topic came down to all the assumptions made about Aquamarine himself over the years — that his promotions had more to do with what sort of favors he was willing to perform for a certain General rather than his own accomplishments. The first time he heard the assumption vocalized, it was amusing. The second time, he could still smirk and laugh disdainfully. The third time was mildly aggravating, the fourth time even more so. By the time the fifth, sixth, and seventh happened, he began to lose count. The amusement ended; the assumptions began to seem belittling.
Eventually, Aquamarine managed another scowl. He retrieved his glass and drank the rest, then slid it across the desk toward Albite for a refill.
“I don’t pretend to know what drives them,” he said. There was nothing in his tone to indicate that he cared much for the subject, but he didn’t outright dismiss it either. “Cybele claimed Sylvite made her into a slave. A traitor’s a traitor, and she can rot for all I care, but I’m willing to concede to the point that a forced corruption might not be the answer we want it to be. Results vary, but seem to trend poorly.”
That wasn’t to say those brought in by more positive recruitment measures weren’t just as capable of defecting. As far as Aquamarine was aware, Cinnabar did not have an experience comparable to Cybele’s. Cinnabar, who once seemed like a fine replacement for Aquamarine’s erstwhile commanding officer, whose guidance Jet certainly appreciated until she became erstwhile herself, but who now fought for the White Moon.
If the Negaverse wasn’t careful, they’d lose more than they could afford to replace — not in numbers, but in quality.
“You sound like Jet,” Aquamarine observed. “People, not pawns. He’s big on that, likes to insist we all have a value greater than fodder.”
Aquamarine didn’t believe it yet. His time in the Negaverse hadn’t given him many reasons to; he was nowhere near as idealistic as his partner. Unlike many of those snivelling traitors, Aquamarine accepted the arrangement for what it was.
“As for the corruption party, as you put it,” Aquamarine continued, eyeing Albite with some disapproval, though it was unclear whether it was due to Albite’s flippant way of speaking or his presence in general, “I can’t say that I agree with it, or understand it. With that many corruptions at once, someone’s bound to fall through the cracks, and the nature of it leaves an opportunity for someone of Cybele’s way of thinking to destabilize the whole thing. They’re all a purification risk. But…” Aquamarine waved a dismissive hand. “Metallia works in mysterious ways, and all that.”
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Posted: Sun Jan 16, 2022 8:48 pm
"Sometimes 'Fodder' is the 'Value', Aqua." slow cheshire smile, as if to blatantly say *look-at-me*. How Albite held no illusions about what he was an example of. Fodder - with a sprinkle of will. Plus enough personhood flavored frosting wove around 'I-pack-a-mean-punch' to ******** or ******** anyone who'd ever told him other-wise. It was the minding that mattered. The part where he didn't. Even now. Knew his worth - even as fodder. Oh, how that gave him the gall to do as he damn well pleased. Absolutely all of the time. Easy to climb the ladder up when there was so little in the way of expectations to bar the way.
He thought Senshi in particular shouldn't be such sticklers over the whole 'life death' merry-go-limbo. Their power was assured, their reincarnation granted eternal; at least till they shattered - or maybe if their planets core went kaboom? Got eaten by the sun? Sucked into a blackhole? Something-something-space rules and dead rocks.
How could he care when the next Praxidike might not? He'd run his course till he couldn't - would let them run theirs after, just like his ancestors had before. All choices made once per lifespan. Fair n' square. No safe zones. No tag-backs.
Brows raised, and as tripwire tight as Aqua seemed to cinch. Albite opened, bloomed soft and expressed his joy with a purr. Poured for Aqua freely. Ever so careful not to spill the precious firewater on -- what he was sure was important paperwork.
"Cybele? A cup emptied twice over. Can you imagine her cracked open a third time? Poured out --- in. There's limits" hissed sigh and headshake. He didn't even want to imagine dragging her back in alive. "Sides..I like her better this way. She's so ******** fun to fight! Was always gonna be a sword, that one. No matter who wielded her. Which is fine with me, cause she deserves a good death. Like your new best enemy Sess." It hurt a little, to think Cybele felt that way, especially since Sylvi was so sweet. He wondered if Sylvi had been too young -- maybe? Hadn't known what quite to do with a Senshi like that. If Cyb's didn't like any of the things she'd had here. If she didn't like herself? To cold steel a killer. Needed something warm for balance...
A shorter leash, more love? He'd always wondered.
"I like Jet's ideas, is what I'd say...If we ever really got to meet, but you can like...relay that, or something. Let him know that all his good thoughts are missing, is like, a group action? Cause we should learn it. What drives 'em. There should be a whole branch for it even. The preaching's on paper - softer, gentler, 'stop eating the starseeds like rock candy', etc." rolled his eyes and smothered a snicker into a sip of gold. "The older ones remember it different, is the problem. The fresh one's? Come in, get confused. Cause when people stop believing they're people...They start looking for ways to become whatever's missing - just - Pinocchio's everywhere, yanno?"
If the people built for fodder wanted to feel like people? If some should've lived like bookmarks nestled in file-rooms instead of like tin men? If some weren't meant for murder? Crech 'em all as lieutenants until they got the jist. Or - or or or-- they needed to get working on a laundry list of 'how-ta-keep-the-corrupts'. To get the want's and needs met at speed. The orientation had been good - soo good - but would it be enough?
He was tired of losing them, his friends, his loved ones, was that what it was? That he believed Aqua was smarter than him? Had means, modes, and answers enough to carry a conversation into something that would get him what he wanted. Same way he believed Fafnir should have what he wanted - what he needed - like for Faustite - like for...For all the intelligent people who'd been burdened with power and slunk about like the whole of the world was upon them. When they were an Army. Metallias, Laurelites, Aquamarines -- Without the promise of power, who at all woulda come?
The forced, yes.
Those ones came whether they wanted to or not. There were ways to make it work for their betterment. He was so damn sure of it that his teeth itched at the very idea.
Even those guided 'laissez faire' by Metallias 'mystical workings'. Something he had to smile for, to chuckle like lit tinder over, because he believed that the invisible hand didn't pull strings unless the strings existed to be pulled. If Faustite suddenly had a sister? It had to have been because he was meant to. If they had a dozen or so new recruits, unchosen by their own hands?
Shoulda been a reason behind it -- something to work with.
A push to to better with 'more'. Retribution against the white moon, with a side of 'new recruits'.
"Whatever..." what did he know -- nothing really -- wondered -- "....all hail the mysterious ways of the shadow-lady. Now, go on n' be the pessimistic grounding rod to my lighting strike of optimism, n tell me you don't absolutely love this drink? Cause your face screams.....uh...words of discontent? Like...if I didn't know better I'd say...soemthing....Oh! Better yet?! Tell me what sorta s**t you need brought in while you're laid up like this...cause, hell..I could start an office fire? All this paperwork is too ******** much." sarcasm, tease, all overlaid with easy curiosity.
With care, because he woulda made good on it, promises n all. Especially with the fine glitter of sheer disbelief born of pride for the fact that Aqua was in the office, doing it, any of it, at ******** all. The whole precarious tower an interesting affront to the senses -- death by ten-thousand papercuts waiting to occur. Or maybe just death by paper --- if it fell over n buried them both.
Sunshine Alouette
Posted: Fri Jan 21, 2022 11:02 am
Aquamarine’s brows lifted slightly, just enough to indicate that he might be surprised, or impressed, or amused despite himself, though it was not immediately clear which applied. He shuttered the expression seconds later, frowning at some unidentifiable point beyond Albite’s shoulder.
At least Albite was smart enough to understand his role within the Negaverse. As a Super, he might be less likely to be used as fodder than those ranked below him, but he was not so invaluable that he couldn’t be replaced. Even Aquamarine, a General who somehow gained the Queen’s trust, knew how far his value extended. To Jet, he may be irreplaceable, but to the Negaverse as a whole? Aquamarine wasn’t so foolish as to think the organization would suffer for his loss.
They wouldn’t suffer for Albite’s loss, either. (Aquamarine might even benefit from it, if it meant there was one less person to disturb him, even if a small, quiet part of him tucked into the back of his brain reminded him that it would also mean one less person to listen.) Whose loss would actually mean something to the whole? The Queen’s, perhaps? At least in the short term — until she, too, was replaced.
That was the reality of the Negaverse. That was the reality of life, probably. They worked a thankless job, and when they were gone, they would be rendered meaningless.
Aquamarine took his glass in hand again, stared down into the amber liquid as bits and pieces of Albite’s ramblings filtered through his thoughts.
Cybele and Sylvite. Sessrumnir. Aquamarine scowled at that one. He’d see that ******** dead if it was the last thing he did.
There was too much thinking to be done, too much to consider, and Aquamarine didn’t feel equipped to handle it on his own, to dissect the problem of forced corruptions and treason, and all the nuances inherent in each individual situation. Albite wouldn’t know the answer. None of them did. For all they knew, this war was an inconsequential blip in the history of the universe.
“The drink?” Aquamarine said, because that was an easy subject, worthy of a frown and a derisive snort, with very little energy expended. “It’s sufficient.”
He took a sip — didn’t quite savor it, but didn’t swallow it too quickly either, letting the burn chase some of the gloom away.
“Never had a drink that didn’t taste like s**t,” he continued. “This isn’t much better. The taste doesn’t matter so much as the effect.”
Not that he had any intention of drinking so much that he became impaired. Even injured as he was, there was still work to be done.
“If you set any of this on fire, you won’t be making it out of here alive,” Aquamarine added with a warning glare. He took another sip and swallowed it slow like the last, then set the glass down and made an effort to reorganize some of the folders and loose papers. “I’ve been going through old files, looking for any information we might have on Ganymede that didn’t make its way into the database. Sessrumnir seems to be an ally of hers. I’m looking for connections, weaknesses. It’s tedious work, but I might as well do it and leave active duty to those who haven’t been run through with their own sword.”
Shiningamisgirl
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Posted: Fri Jan 21, 2022 11:50 am
Tsk’d sigh chased by an obvious pout for being put off of playing office pyro. He wanted so very badly to point out how it’d worked wonders for Faustite. Maybe when Aqua was more healed up? Maybe then he’d enjoy a good old fashioned; knock down, drag out, to let off steam - kinda fight.
Maybe after he’d found all the tie ins — scoured his paper mountains and found nothing at all? Maybe then he’d be happier to see the eyesore of manila folders and white parchment burn.
Albite was glad he liked the drink though. Tolerated it? Signaled a cheer and smiled in acknowledgement for ‘sufficient’. Close enough to a compliment, and he’d damn well take it like it was one.
“Man, he did you dirty like that? Ran you through with your own sword n’ didn’t even buy you dinner after?” Scandalous, and there was a growl along the tease. Sharp thread of upset that settled in to live like a strange roommate with his humor and how he tried to levy it against the overbearing gravity of the situation. The weight of near death being skirted by yet more people he knew.
“That’s just ******** rude. N here I thought Kights were supposed to have manners…chivalry….”
It also rung as straight up strange — as — why hadn’t he simply killed Aqua? Had the means, the time, coulda made it swift n easy. Played with his food instead. Like pinning live flies to cork board. Like he wanted just this in the aftermath — tortured the guy before, left him torturing himself after…
“Not that it’s any of my business..but…as a person who a hates ‘tedious’ and also ‘paperwork’. Like, as a whole? Delegation is totally a thing. I know — I know — you Generals and your need to kill yourselves over details, because of ‘pick an issue’ — but — uh. Consider it? Cause there’s doing the job, and then there’s being a masochist? Or is it martyr?” he didn’t know the word, was halfway lost on the thought of whether or not Aqua would like other things left as little gifts. If this got ‘sufficient’? Then what would get ‘good’? What was the bar and measure for — a clean burn, an expensive taste? No burn at all and something so smooth and flavorful it was nearly dangerous for all the ways it didn’t taste like alcohol?
“Some sorta ‘M’ word, maybe? Just….Aqua…seriously. He didn’t finish you off, yeah? Don’t do him the favor of doing it for him — by doing *allllluv this*, all on your own.”
He’d leave him the bottle when he left, he’d leave him — no — he’d come back and check in and. ********, he could even offer to help, maybe? A fresh pair of eyes to flip the picture sideways and reset the brain — like all those YouTube sessions with the artists — and they did the canvas thing? And it — worked somehow.
Though he didn’t get it.
Sunshine Alouette
Posted: Mon Jan 24, 2022 4:59 pm
Aquamarine shrugged and immediately regretted it. His shoulders were still sore. Supposedly he hadn’t lost any function in them — a single starseed could be potent enough to accomplish wonders even when it didn’t heal everything — but the ache would linger for a while. The constant reminder of what Sessrumnir had done was aggravating, to say the least.
Against taunting or accusations, Aquamarine would have defended himself, would’ve insisted the only reason Sessrumnir managed to stick him with his own sword was because he caught him by surprise — stepping out of the darkness as if he’d been there all along, when Aquamarine hadn’t sensed his aura before, and taking away all of the abilities that made Aquamarine an efficient General. Without Sessrumnir’s little tricks, the Knight would have stood no chance. They fought before; the first was hardly comparable to their second encounter.
But he could say nothing about the smoke bomb while that aspect of it remained under wraps, and Albite didn’t appear to be teasing him for it anyway. If anything, Albite seemed almost offended on his behalf, if Aquamarine cared to look deep enough beneath his customary irreverence.
Aquamarine was unsure what to make of that thought, so he banished it to be mulled over at another time.
“We all have our kinks. Maybe I am a masochist,” Aquamarine said. Considering his tone of voice rarely left the range of angry, snide, or neutral, determining when he was joking was no easy feat. As always, he had a frown for Albite, and a subtle narrowing of the eyes; thus, he offered no indication in his expression either. “You’ll certainly never have the occasion to find out one way or the other.”
He rifled through more papers, picked up the envelope Albite brought in, looked it over briefly, then tossed it aside onto a different pile.
“I don’t mind tedious,” he continued. “If the choices are finding what I need for myself or relying on someone less experienced with the issue and more inclined to overlook minor details, I’d rather do it myself. If the subject were less important and I weren’t so injured, I would delegate more of this to my subordinates, but it is important and I am injured, so the tedious work will have to do for now. It won’t kill me to look through files. Except if I find one more poorly written report, I might hunt down whichever agent was responsible for it and rid the Negaverse of their incompetence.”
Shiningamisgirl
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Posted: Wed Jan 26, 2022 4:46 pm
"You're the worst tease. S'fair though, if a damn shame. I guess some things are forever meant to be the universes mysteries. Like..what's in Pandora's box? Or, whether or not we can scream in space!" so long as Aqua was happy. He wouldn't win against the steel wall of straight laced facial expressions that read like a dead radar machine.
He'd seen Aquas soul, though. Had watched someone else hold it even, like the most precious thing.
He knew injuries as well as he knew pain, that they were uneasy things to sit through. The poor guy couldn't have been comfortable, and yet? There he was. Arguing the benefits of picking over piles, because only he could know their worth.
Oh, definitely a masochist.
Albite'd think it, loudly, laugh for the statement of obvious and lament all the way's he'd never know. He would've taken bets aplenty on his hunch hitting somewhere near the center mark of a dartboard though.
Aqua had to be -- if not for the job that he seemed to loathe to hate. Then for the people he thought it worth doing the job for. The person?
"You're a better agent than I am. Not gonna lie, but I don't envy you any of this. I hope you get it though, whatever hay in the needlestack sorta s**t you're sifting through all this for. I'd offer to help, but? On the off chance some of those 'worth killing for' reports might possibly be mine...." slow pause, soft shrug. For all that he could be summoned willy and also nilly? He was suddenly glad he'd stopped writing things after talking with Axinite. Knew where his strengths lay. Writing reports was not one of them. Relaying details -- retaining them -- on paper?
It was scribe work for better minds.
For Generals with things worth killing in the daytime. Waking hours where the real boogeymen lived, breathed, and wandered about with smiles on their faces. With blood on their hands that no one else would see. Wasn't that why they worked all night? In the near pitch of offices beyond earth? To snuff every light cast from every star until the only thing left creeping in the darkness was *them*.
He wondered what they'd all finally do, what people like Aqua would've preferred to do? When all was said and done. Imagined the guy with a soft yet melancholy personal life.
Thought that'd be nice.
If Aqua got good things and smiled sometimes. If he someday smiled enough that he got wrinkles from it. Probably woulda gotten botox, too? But he wasn't gonna presume. No more than he'd stay past his welcome, past a dalliance and brief diversion that let him linger enough to check in. The sigh of relief he could let out after knowing Aqua was; if not well, then at least alive.
"...If you ever need me for grunt s**t. To hit a thing?" he'd be there. Had a tablet, had time to spare. Let the absence of talking speak louder for it as he drained golden drops dry and decided the bottle would be left behind long after he was gone. Would end up followed in the upcoming weeks and months by more. Quietly.
