|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Mar 14, 2022 5:11 pm
He didn't want to leave, but he forced himself to stand. Every time he took up his pen to write a report, he wrote a journal entry — something too personal, too laden with details to match the neat, pared down, critical style in which he drafted his submissions. He had written what was on his mind, and his mind had grown as dark as his blood in recent weeks.
Faustite left the brace on his wrist. Didn't care who saw. Couldn't find the wherewithal to care about much of anything in that moment.
So he vanished — returned to Destiny City's streets, devoid of company in either variety. No youma to follow to a hated enemy, no boys to keep him company on a walk, no subordinates to train on some esoteric skill he'd picked up over the years. Just himself and the quiet city. Himself and a quota that he never wanted to end.
He picked a side of town nearer to the college, where youths stayed out late and got themselves drunk on cheap alcohol. Seldom aware in the first place, they were even less liable to care about his approach behind them when slaloming to and fro with friends. Faustite was careful to pick smaller groups — ones he could drain at a distance — and watched their momentary confusion before they each collapsed within seconds of each other. With groups like these came potent energy orbs, and high profile cases of unconscious kids.
He'd made two such groups before he skipped a few streets ahead, where the crowds were thinner and the strangers more aware. He'd snagged a starseed on the way, someone sleeping on a covered bus stop's bench, before he left for the rooftops to avoid keen eyes.
It lasted another few streets before he got down to street level again, and — there it was. The flamebound General snorted sardonically. He recognized the balcony, the grand ostentatiousness of the old hotel.
It was here that she admitted she didn't care if she survived. As he halted before the building, staring up at it, he supposed he'd learned what that was like.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 16, 2022 4:07 pm
Days turned into weeks, edging towards months, but if Cybele's determination in finding Ganymede was faltering, she did not let it show. She was out every evening that she could be. Perhaps she was slightly less single-minded than she had been, at first. Sometimes she would dust a youma and pretend like that was enough, that she could stop and go to bed afterwards and that it would be all right. It wasn't all right. When she tried to sleep, she still tossed and turned until she fell into nightmares. Tonight, she was determined not to give up early. She'd search and hunt until daybreak if she had to. It did not take her nearly that long to stumble across the pile of bodies. It wasn't anyone she knew, and on closer inspection, they appeared to simply be drained, but she still grit her teeth. The General's aura registered at about the same time, and she turned towards it. If this was some sort of trap, at least she would be stronger than they were expecting. Her lips twitched as she thought she smelled a hint of something burning, and yes. She saw the sparks first, and then the rest of him. "Faustite," she said, steadily. Her gaze flicked up to the building he stood under, just for a moment. "Anything to say for yourself? You'd best make it good, because I'm not weak anymore."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 17, 2022 5:14 pm
He recognized her by voice, now. Too many run-ins with each other that left too many survivors.
Faustite smiled something wry as he looked at the gravel-stricken ground before him, paused for that smile to die, then looked back at her with a straight face. Then his brows furrowed as his attention lit on the pair of wings at her hips, on the aura she projected, the sum total of her uniform being more pinnacle than a Super's.
How did that happen? The White Moon robbed her of that rank after she left the Negaverse.
Briefly, he considered Kamacite's aura suppressor — was there one that acted in reverse?
And her question — so like the others. As if time and distance robbed her of all nuance. As if the Negaverse never taught her anything. Maybe it hadn't, or maybe she found a way to restore memories of old when she reclaimed her rank of old. Was it a trade, then? Negaverse memories for the ones she lost? Or did she grow callous of her own accord?
"… Do you remember when we spoke here? Was raining. You were there —" He pointed to a fancy restaurant's double doors, crowned by an awning. "I was there —" Then his pointer finger migrated to the arch of a balcony.
"You asked me if I was all right."
He paused, swallowed, considered. "Thought it a strange thing to ask." As was his habit, he paced. "Been burning for years; no one asked me if it hurt. Then I started to wonder — was it stranger that none of my colleagues asked?
"Tell me — were you sincere?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2022 7:44 pm
Cybele was silent for a long moment, half from surprise. Of course she remembered her talk with Faustite, especially standing here, so close to where it had happened. Her jaw was tense as she traced the swirls in the hotel's facade with her eyes. Given their more recent encounters, she'd mostly been expecting him to turn into a ball of fire and throw himself at her face. She hadn't known that he'd remembered, or cared. "Yes," she said, simply, when she finally spoke, and then, "I was sincere." She remembered what she'd seen of him when she was in the Negaverse, as well, and she let herself think back to that, now that she had the time and reason to think. He'd felt broken and inhuman, the same way that she had. In retrospect, she could see it even more clearly. Cybele's brows edged together. "You don't deserve to hurt. You don't deserve to be constantly hungry and desperate. You said you didn't want this, and I sympathize with that, deeply." Her tone was even, neither gentle or sarcastic. At that point, though, a sigh escaped her lips. "I fight you because instead of getting to the root of the problem, you're taking your pain out in ways that hurt other people. You've threatened to consume my planet, and others'. You set me on fire." Now her voice grew colder. "You helped them take my-" she cut off and corrected, quickly, "To take Ganymede." Her jaw tightened farther but she continued, "Arguably those are personal slights, but you're also constantly draining, starseeding, consuming. Rumor has it that you had your own force-corrupted pet." She stepped forwards and crossed her arms and tried to breathe. "So yes, it gets complicated, but yes, I still care."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 19, 2022 6:43 am
So she remembered. She meant it.
Faustite was silent as she spoke; only his steady pacing or the occasional fiery crackle came from him. He wondered how far her sympathies extended, how much she understood. She was, after all, still human. The status of 'human' was such a covetable thing.
It was interesting, hearing someone tell him what they thought he was doing. He smiled something grim, something mirthless.
"Good memory." He turned, paced the other direction. His steps quickened. His mouth twitched at the correction. Cybele read as tense when he looked at her. She was brazen, approaching him, likely made bolder by the power she regained. That, he supposed, was still a mystery. It had taken her quite some time, though, hadn't it?
He had to stifle a chuckle when she mentioned being set on fire.
"There's that old derision. Something comfortable. Familiar." Cybele would never be what Lysithea was, what she continued to be. Cybele was conditional in a way that Lysithea was not. Now they shared the same style of bright, shining aura. "You told me you didn't care if you survived. Now I know what that's like." Didn't care to elaborate, didn't need to.
He turned, paced the other direction. "Lysithea rejoined your ranks. She's a Super Senshi now, delicate and easily broken. Better that you protect her. Negaverse doesn't fancy turncoats."
Then he halted, turned toward her as he straightened. He rested a hand against his hip. "And Ganymede, she lives. Ratty, bloodied thing, all mangy in her cell. Suppose they have a grand plan for her, but they didn't share it with me. Shame, isn't it — those threats, those fights, those starseeds, those energy orbs, those missions — and it's not enough to know what they'll do with the Princess." He blew a thin wisp of smoke toward the sky.
"If I don't deserve my hurt, hunger, desperation — then what is there to deserve?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 19, 2022 4:40 pm
Then he was talking about her. Ganymede. He knew something about her. Knew she was bloodied, in pain. Mangy. Trapped, still. At the mercy of the Negaverse, still. Cybele's lips twitched. Her breath felt hot. The picture he was painting mixed with the one that had already been haunting her brain for months, of Ganymede tortured and broken in some cell, alive but desperate, her green eyes blank and distant as she waited for the judgement call of some awful Queen. Cybele's hands wanted to curl into fists. The rest of her wanted to give into that derision, to charge forwards and break Faustite's bones again, or to rip out his throat and see if that made her feel better. If he was at such a low point, maybe he wouldn't even stop her. The only thing was, he couldn't tell her any more about Ganymede if he was dead. "I've been talking quite a bit to Nembus, you know, since she purified," she said instead, because two could play at this game of throwing out secrets that cut deep. Mentally, she apologized to her friend. She knew that Dahlia had been wanting to be careful about her information, but talking about this was the only way to keep Cybele from doing something even more impulsive. "A bit to Lysithea, although as you said, she just left the Negaverse." And that conversation had been awkward, but Faustite hardly needed to know about that. "We've been diving into those questions. What it means to be human, what it means to be happy, what our lives could have, should have been without all the pain and desperation that the Negaverse causes. What our lives can still be, now." Instead of punching him in the face, Cybele forced herself to smile. "You could always join us. Your old teammates would be happy to have you. I know they've been worried about you."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 19, 2022 8:38 pm
There it was — proof that talking with this one could be more lucrative than he expected. In her absence, Nembus turned traitor. No need to keep Lilith on that task, then; it was now Faustite's duty to deal with her.
He wondered if Nembus laid low because she knew what her team could do, or if she expected it could only go poorly. There was nothing for it; he couldn't ask Nembus anything now. She was long gone, left earlier than Ilse, and earlier than Lysithea. Doubtless she established her new false identity, however the White Moon did that without the Negaverse's organization, and got herself accustomed to living with even fewer memories than before.
He hoped it was worth becoming Super again, because once they found her —
Faustite stole a breath from the air. He'd been pacing again, and he hadn't noticed how his pace grew more urgent with his agitation. Told himself he couldn't be surprised that Cybele interfaced with either one of them. The White Moon, they were far smaller than the Negaverse in terms of membership. Why wouldn't they know each other.
Then she had to start down that path. Faustite rolled his eyes at her. "Tell me another." Like any of their ilk would worry about him. They worried for Albite, likely.
The more they robbed from him, the more resistant he became. How they dreamed of him joining the White Moon, he didn't know. Guessed that Lysithea had something to do with that. But the White Moon was full of selfish, unscrupulous things. Hiding behind their high morals as an excuse for their perfidiousness. With each breath came thin lines of smoke from his nose. "Couldn't join you if I wanted to."
He smiled, too, though it was nearer to a grimace, or a baring of teeth. "Ganymede — saw part of her world. Great, domed thing with a hole in the ceiling. Could see daybreak through it. You're all marvelous keepers of the dead. All these dislocated, entombed pasts."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 19, 2022 9:30 pm
He was walking faster. It seemed like his fire might have been getting smokier. Cybele was far from an expert on body language, and she rarely dealt with youma outside of killing them, but it seemed like her words might have had some effect on him. Good. "I'm not suggesting that you immediately purify. I was suggesting you come brainstorm ways to feel better than don't involve hurting other people, but," she shrugged, "If you're not interested, you're not interested." There were people who were good at selling purification. Many of them were Cybele's friends, even. There was Alya. There was Albireo. Ganymede was wonderful at it, of course, and yet no matter how many times Cybele tried to copy the way she reached out, it always fell flat. Faustite might have been pacing, but Cybele stayed perfectly still, her eyes tracing his every move. "Are you going to keep acting like I don't understand , she asked, voice going false dramatic, "unless I start cheerleading your plan to drain every senshi's world and make every human into a youma?" She couldn't help the sarcasm that started to sneak into her voice at that point.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 20, 2022 7:12 am
Ways to feel better without hurting other people. There were no ways, he thought; nothing else struck at the root of the problem, as she'd said before. His hurts spawned from people — Umber and Schörl started them, then many of the people he met along the way compounded them, or perpetuated them. Sinope and Acubens of the Dark Mirror, a couple nameless Knights, Cybele, Encke, Lysithea, and now Nembus of the White Moon; and those ******** aliens that showed up on the hilltop. Agents that betrayed him. People — civilians — who thought it better to lead him on or turn him down.
People were the root of every problem. And if the White Moon kept stealing the good ones away, they would strengthen his impetus to dismantle them. By her own logic, she wanted him to keep hurting. She wanted him to be cowed, take the abuse, and… what? Watch TikTok all day while trying not to think about how many ways his heart had been broken?
Faustite clicked his tongue. His throat lit at the back for his roiling flame. A thick gout of smoke billowed from his nose and mouth.
"You don't," he answered perfunctorily. Then he was gone, his cloud of smoke slowly wending upward from where he had been, and he was back again, behind her, with the inferno in his grate licking out at its surroundings.
"And you won't." Heat surged around him, distorting their surroundings. Then a torrent of flame burst out of him, whipping into a frenzy.stari_maga Meltdown ;;
Range: 10' radius around user
Duration: Up to 30 seconds
Use Count: Up to 2x
Miss Chance: Escaping range at or before the buildup stage
Effect: By expending some of his core, Faustite can whip up a firestorm on a local area, prefaced by dancing cinders seconds before the burst. Inferno gusts orbit clockwise, burning anyone caught in their whorl. Friendly fire possible.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 20, 2022 1:10 pm
Ah. There it was. There was his answer. There was the fire. It all blended together in a tornado of rage and also pain. Was she gasping as the smoke thickened and the flames raked across her skin, or was she laughing? Cybele couldn't tell. She just knew that for all that Faustite was trying to say that she'd never understand him, this was exactly something that she would have done. She'd had a bad habit of attacking when the questions got too personal. Then some of the cloth on her chest started to catch fire, even as she did her best to stumble back out of his range. It seared into her skin, as did a few other of his flames around her legs, and at that point, she was definitely just hissing. " Prey's Agony," she coughed out, which was strange because those weren't magic words she'd used before, but it felt right, and when she said the words a phantom bow formed in her hands. She fired it at Faustite. Strickenized Eternal Sailor Attack: Prey's Agony Cybele calls the name of her attack and an intricate ethereal bow forms in her hands, with a single arrow on the string. She can fire it at one target. The ethereal arrow gives the sensation of being hit with a real arrow. It hurts. On top of that, on a hit, the target will feel the sensation of strikes from secondary arrows, and being ripped at by the teeth of hounds. The magic lasts 45 seconds but can leave lasting damage at player discretion. Cybele can use this attack once per battle.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 21, 2022 7:37 am
While she had moved away, Faustite had approached with slow, deliberate steps. Flame still roiled around him so viciously that it lifted his hair and turned his brass middle black with all its brilliance. As he walked toward her, he watched her arms move, watched her take up a stance he recognized. Was she bluffing? Or were the flames so bright that he couldn't see any silvery magic between those hands?
He watched her farthest hand release in a flourish of fingers. His first thought: teleport. His second thought: the rooftop belonging to the building on his right, its parapet's craggy concrete, the view of the street from a taller angle.
His third thought: he hadn't left —
Magic must have struck him, for he stumbled back a pace, and pain lanced through him. She shot him, he was sure, and he reminded himself not to look. Drew a hiss of breath through the pain as he reached for the shaft, groped with unseeing fingers an inch above his heart. Nothing.
His fourth thought: count the seconds.
Flame retreated back into him, exhausting him. More pinpoint pains showered his back, his shoulders. Nips at his calves and ankles urged him to move, and he darted right in a halfhearted search for cover. Nothing chased him and no one fired upon him, but the pain left him lightheaded.
His fifth thought: buy time. He raised a pain-stricken arm, fingers spread wide, and curled his hand into a fist. Youma gathered from nowhere — a handful of feral-looking ones with a single flier. He needn't speak; he bit back more jagged groans of agony as he pointed at Cybele, then slumped against the wall in a fit of stubborn pain.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 22, 2022 3:49 pm
At first, Cybele didn't see what her magic had done to Faustite. Her clothes were still burning. The bits of ribbon that framed her shoulders were catching now, too, and apparently think, delicate fabric burned fast and hot. There were embers in her eyes, so she blinked and blinked against the smoke and the fire and she kept trying to stumble backwards even though from what she could tell it wasn't doing much good. Then, the firestorm stopped. With her gloves, Cybele patted out the flames in an instant. She blinked away smoke. Her skin was still screaming, and there were ashy tears running down her cheeks, she could see. She saw the way that Faustite was crumpled against the building. That was new. She only remembered using her Eternal magic a few times while she'd been in the Negaverse. She'd preferred her other attacks, because her most powerful one hadn't been anything like this. If she hadn't cared, truly, about him, she might have smiled at the power of it. Faustite's hand twitched and something shifted to her right. A youma approached in a skittering of claws. Cybele kicked it straight into the wall, but that wasn't quite enough to dust it and there was another one flying overhead. She hissed, and not even from the pain. Instead of pressing her advantage she was having to waste time with these.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Mar 24, 2022 5:44 am
Cybele wasted time with youma, where Faustite wasted time with pain. He'd given up counting, having started too late. Given his familiarity with other senshi attacks, he knew them to last no more than half a minute usually, but this one —
He breathed another tight sigh, as if it would air out some of the pain. If he stared away from himself for too long, he felt the chill of blood rolling down from his magical injuries. Each time, he would spare a glance at the backs of his legs, or his shoulders and chest, if only to dispel that obnoxious inference.
Faustite wondered if there was something else to this one. While he grit his teeth enough to prevent himself from yelping, it hadn't helped against the pain — hadn't gotten him back to his feet. He was still immobile, still drenched in cold sweat, still fighting for the chance to do anything other than listen to the impending defeat of his youma.
He wondered, briefly, if he should summon another.
"Headache," he panted against the ever-accumulating pains. Then he was met with a cloud of fireflies, and his eyes wearily tracked their patterned bursts of light.
"Need your ability. Make me Lysithea."
Then he shut his eyes, waited, and the fireflies enveloped him. Once settled, their luminous bodies went off at once, and Faustite was henceforth Lysithea, Negaverse Eternal Senshi.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2022 4:11 pm
The first youma came back for more, and Cybele sent it off to dust with a second kick. It scattered against the pavement as another one approached. She dodged and weaved and wondered if she should use more magic, but right now she didn't think that she was in danger of dying, and she knew that when Faustite got up, that might change. The flying one dug its fangs into the back of her head despite her best efforts, and she yelped and punched at it. Her fist hit, and that one dusted, too, but the pain of it joined the burning in her chest, and she could feel the blood pooling in her hair. At that point, she saw something swirling around Faustite, and then, a moment later, he wasn't Faustite anymore. At least, he no longer looked like Faustite. He looked like Lysisthea, but that couldn't be right. Cybele had always known her auras, as long as she could remember, and it was still a General's aura under there, with a heavy tinge of youma to it, not a senshi's. "What are you doing?" she snapped as she raised a hand to her head, as if that would help somehow. "Why are you getting all tricky if you don't want to talk?" She stepped out of the way of a claw swipe from the final youma to get closer to him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 07, 2022 6:24 pm
So she'd seen it. Unfortunate that her cover wasn't enough. It wasn't a straight loss, however; her reaction confirmed no substantial attachment to Lysithea. They hadn't known each other, then.
He drew a sizzling breath. "Because talking won't get me anything."
She still had the one youma. Perhaps, then —
Lysithea gave way to fire, and Faustite's youma shifted with it. Fire was a more familiar locomotion to the aggregate creature; the pair interwove as roiling lengths of fire before they swirled out, encircled her, and reformed as twin Generals standing on either side of her.
They both reached for her starseed, one slower than the other.stari_maga Hellborn ;; (Enhancement)
Range: Self
Duration: Up to 1 minute
Use Count: Up to 3x
Miss Chance: Escaping his reach
Effect: Faustite's fire expands and engulfs him, transforming him into a living embodiment of flame. For the duration of this magical ability, he appears fully youmafied. When he moves, he moves amorphously as a gout of fire. Faustite can pass through or over nonsolid surfaces, and cannot be hit by physical attacks. He becomes highly susceptible to magical attacks and enchantments, however. Any attacks he makes toward others will be fire property, and will provide the illusion of being burned.
Note:This form is non-pyrogenic.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
