He was going to owe Fafnir so many apology outings -- work-dates? Maybe one of his 'Albite's Apology Coupons' that'd been specifically designed for such occasions! He'd gotten really good at scrawling them out in crayon at Haybayby n Zuzubee's pointed suggestions ((the kind that ended in kitten claws and the business edge of a scalpel - *though who the ******** gave zuzu knives!!?* It was beyond his understanding, but also definitely a thing he wasn't allowed to question because Zuzu loved her knives and if Albite tried to take them...well....His parental sway only got him so far)); they'd even helped him decorate! Lipstick kisses and stickers of tiny sparkles and emoji shits, the whole nine!
Not that any of that mattered right then when he was dead smack in the middle of ---
Trying NOT to ******** die, again, for the millionth goddamned time!!
It was Cerbs that'd gotten him into it, the overwhelming sense of dread that'd sent him hunting his precious bonded birbs location --- ******** --- lifeforce? The red string of fate so unerringly tugged while being undefinable to the Senshi. Albite couldn't figure out how to explain Cerbs existence any better than he could explain what he had with Haymitch; bonded was bonded was bonded was -- A proximity alarm tethered to feelings. He knew when it went off, on, all the comings and goings; like feather light brushes of images that suggested a distance and incorporeal nudges of thoughts on his psyche.
Cerbs got into everything, but also typically got out of everything. Until now. When the idea that threaded the line between him and his sentient subspace being was so full of terror. N what the ******** could put fear into anything that big? Albite didn't know. Only that the idea of something so close to him possibly dying? Albite'd never torn through subspace and out into the unknown so quickly before; could hear the edges of the rend close on the echo of a shattering cup that'd slipped off the edge of his half complete counter in his teams home, south of the citadel, center of the sunken city.
Fine china was replaceable, but Cerbs wasn't.
So when he stepped directly into trouble --- into ink-like slimes dabbing away at the bright, white, fluorescent drips of Cerbs blood where he was tangled amidst limbs of corpselike trees; the creatures weak flapping that told of how utterly exhausted it must've been to have called him like it did.
He didn't think, insomuch as he lashed out with intent to exact the best sort of retribution he could imagine.
Cerbs was freed, vanished away into whatever extra-planar dimension he called home between living on a perch in shared offices and stalking green Lt's for fun and games down the citadels halls -- and now?
He was wearing down.
The abnormal-ness of that feeling, all the ways it sent his adrenaline through the ******** roof and had his anxiety spiked to ten. He didn't get tired like *this*; and the trails of clinging ooze that marred over his tattoos making his magic look even more a mess when summoned. The way more creatures surfaced as he slowed; seeming oh so eager to snatch at whatever bits of life remained in him....
These beings weren't the same as those from the *Void*, distant cousins of cousins maybe? But they differed by enough degrees that Albite was panicking, grasping at new straws too brittle to be called actual ideas. He couldn't put Faustite and his team through this s**t again. Not after the summer fiasco had nearly fissured their carefully put together everything! So he called upon the one person removed just enough from the deepest depths of their inner-circle to be useful to him; took full abuse of his abilities to tear open space and time and make a body appear....
Never a waste to have backup, even if the action of it left him hissing for the unsettling drain on his reserves.
Fafnir wasn't his to call, n yet? He was calling him. Harsh, without warning, panting and staggering just to the left to avoid another half melted creatures grasp. It felt like the more he put down -- the more that crawled back up -- that if he'd left sooner he wouldn't be facing this.
But he'd stayed.
That furious little thing that drove him to do the most unthought out s**t, that demanded he *destroy* whatever this sort of ugliness was? Whatever cacophonic chaos was trampling all the ******** over his Earth, and hurting his bird, and blacking up his greens?!
Oh so stupidly he'd stayed. He hoped Fafls was feeling magnanimous enough to bail him the ******** out.
Posted: Sun Aug 21, 2022 9:23 pm
He knew the feel of something... pulling at him. His heart immediately leapt up into his throat, nearly strangling him, as he was pulled away from the dressing room where he was so carefully applying eyeliner.
The anxiety wasn't logical, but it never was. Netherite had always informed Fafnir before summoning him, but perhaps Faustite was a different type of general, and summoning was assumed to always be fine... It left him in a strange mood when he arrived... wherever it was. Equal parts angry and anxious, only to see... Albite?? Fighting a bunch of... goopy youma? None of this many any sort of sense, and that put him squarely on the 'angry' side of the scale.
"Did you just ******** summon me?" He spat, clad now in his blue and purple robes. ******** Albite had wings now, and an eternal power signature... the ******** had been promoted, before him. Over him. Left him behind. He practically boiled with the injustice of it, mixing and frothing with the adrenaline cause by the unexpected summoning. How dare he? Albite, the useless, idiotic, insufferable man... He wanted to strangle him. And maybe would, later, after dealing with whatever... this was.
The things, humanoid shaped but... vague, had pulled back, shuffling together as though considering the change in circumstances. Albite looked ready to fall on his fool face and black ichor smeared his skin. Something that had gotten the better of Mr. Boundless Energy was not something Fafnir particularly wanted to engage in, but they were already rallying, swarming and slithering closer. First thing first then.
Drawing a deep breath, Fafnir pursed his lips and released that breath in a swirl of sickly purple clouds. They boiled outwards to engulf the monsters and he heard... something, as it connected. Shrill whistles, maybe shrieks, and they fell back again, sinking into the very earth to escape his magic. He had only a moment to feel a smug satisfaction over it before something attached to his ankles, wrapping tightly around them an pinning him to the ground. Arms and hands emerged from the soil to grasp at him, half formed faces leering from below.
"What the <********> is going on?" Fafnir growled, struggling to pull himself free.
“Sorry! Did I ever claim to be the 'Senshi of Knowing Things'? No! I definitely did ******** not —” boisterous and wild eyed staring in Fafnirs direction, because he didn’t know what was going on, and he could’ve probably teleported out, or home, or —-
And okay!! Maybe that panicking thing, where drowning people couldn’t be saved because whoever got close enough to save them also got pulled down with them, was also exactly what his gut reaction had been with summoning someone? Just – if he had more people to help, then – then surely? N Fafnir – Fafnir didn’t have an axe, or burning fire, but he was smart? Except he’d never learned what the ******** any of Fafnirs powers could do – except for poison – poison dragon, not fire, not ice. <******** eyed the roiling purple clouds, that matched shades of Fafnirs eyeshadow, deep enough to remind him of night. The noises emitted from where the creatures were enveloped in the smog briefly gave him hope, though that feeling slipped the second he watched them rebound to attack.
So much ********>.
Capitalized, bolded, underlined. He'd have to check himself in the future so he didn't ever oopsidentally pull this kinda stunt again. All the ways he could’ve spent his dwindling energy, and what’d he choose? Snag a Fafnir, kill an ink beast, hide it from the rest of his team — that was maybe a whole heaping helping of stupidity on his part. A massive freaking pile of it.
"Rules of engagement! Don't touch the ink things -- murder them! Prize is -- if we survive? I'll explain everything---or I'll shut the ******** up!" panting like some hunted thing, his eyes full of a feral edge for the look on Fafnirs face; all the ways that told him he should definitely be doing some up-shutting, n making with the attacks, "S'agood prize, right Faffls?! Binding Retribution!" rarely were the words said anymore, it'd never been needed when he was alone, but for his companions benefit? To save his own skin? He spoke it - ticked through what little he had left because he couldn'tve left Faffl's pinned to the floor like some bug in a bad hentai --- reached for the Super to pull him up while skidding on oil-slick underbrush that gave next to no traction for fleeing. It made him think briefly of playing in fallen leaves, mid rain, just before winter came on; how fun that was.
So far removed from this. When leaning his weight back to pull sunk him deeper, left him vulnerable for more of those nasty slimes to curl up his braced heels like they could seep through them. He'd remind himself later to thank Faustite for his suggestions to the cosmic tailor.
Sailor Scout Attack: Binding Retribution! Albites tattoos appear to come alive, slithering off his arm like ethereal magical ribbons. The tattoo ribbons wrap around an intended opponents body part and tie the two together for a duration of 15 seconds. Leaving neither able to escape the other until the magic is ended, or the weak ribbons are severed. (Ex. Albite's opponent has a weapon/magical attack, and uses it on said ribbons or Albite is interrupted in casting/cancels the magic early.) Range: 3 Feet Duration: 15 seconds Number of uses: 3 Number of targets: 1
Whimsical Blue
Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2022 6:39 pm
moved, flowing out and wrapping around some of the goops like ribbons to bind it together. He had to assume the other man had used up what energy he had, which left it to Fafnir to get them out of it. He'd wonder later why he'd pulled Fafnir here and not one of the others on Faustite's team, for Faustite himself...
Concentrating, Fafnir teleported the two of them ten feet back from the monsters, staggering on impact as he found himself free from their hold. He spun immediately and sent another plume of dark smoke swirling towards the monsters. They shrieked again as it hit them, turning the dark, inky goop they were made of dry and flaking. They retreated as they had before, but this time did not reappear.... the green grass under their boots did not spawn any dark sludge. In moments, they were gone as though they had never been their, all signs of their leavings soaked seemingly into the ground again.
"What, the <********>, was that?" Fafnir snapped as he tried to catch his breath, still angry and still jealous out of all proportion. Albite. And Eternal... and no one had told him. Not that, in all fairness, it had been any of his business, but still. And why? Why Albite? What had he done that Fafnir had not? Was it as simple as he had been with Faustite longer?
Watched the ooze sink back into the Earth before letting his a** find the ground, the grass was calling him -- all nice n non-deadly again like it shoulda been. Perfectly soft for splaying on, while heaving air like he couldn't catch his own breath. Albite slung his arm over his eyes and tried to turn his grimace into something closer to a smile, felt even that falter where he sweat into his fuku; how he hated feeling the cling of mess all soaked up into his hair n skin just then.
Such gross s**t -- why was it always ooze monsters n void beasts n exploding things? Couldn't ever be something that just bled n died normally? Could it?! NO! Course it couldn't!
He was just gonna lay there, n continue to not die, and maybe consider what kind of nap he could take in the barely coming together bath back home? Did he call Faustite to heat up the tub...
Did he burn the place down trying........
He really liked the doormat, n the kitchen was coming along. So no, no fires. He really had to be careful with the place now.
N all of Treys loud cut through his muddled thoughts, had him pulling back to peek up at an absolutely seething Fafnir. Amazed at how pretty he looked even as red peeked over his features. Crazy handsome, even when the guy was angry enough to look like he was two steps from killing him off; delivering whatever finishing blow that the inky-goo-beasts had failed to provide.
Huh, what was Fafnir into in the bedroom?
It was definitely a thought. Wrong place n time for it, so it ended up vaulted while Albite hunted down a reply.
"Holy ********, you're loud..." wet snort n half smile, he rolled his eyes behind closed lids. Getting not so much as a 'thank you, hi, how-ya-doin-dumbass?' "N yes, of course I'm fine! Thank you for asking - you're too kind Trey. M'greatful to have you as a friend!" and there was sarcasm there, lacking in bite for all the winded tired it would've taken to exert more than just that bit of runon sound.
He scrubbed at his temples and managed a half-assed shrug, cause he sure as hell didn't know. "If I was betting though, n I'm not, but if I was? I'd say they were leftovers from the freaking void. I know they feel different, but everything's been feeling different since....since...." floppy wave because he really didn't know. Could pick apart one bit of chaos from the next, knew youma, from friend, from foe --- if and when he actually paid attention to auras. "How're you though, ya seem kinda...sorta..." what was the right way to broach this? Maybe like a bull shaped wrecking ball, no tact, all bear poking with the sharpest of sticks, "Mmhn, pissed, peeved, miffed? Are ya angry, Fafnir?"
He was oh so tempted to ask why, left that question lie quiet in the wake of all his other asks.
Whimsical Blue
Posted: Fri Aug 26, 2022 2:18 pm
Albite lay on the ground like a useless, exhausted lump and Fafnir stood over him, silently fuming. He could feel how warm it had made his cheeks, so it was an unpleasant not-surprise that Albite happened to notice it and correctly infer that he was upset. He didn't want to talk about it with the frustrating man... what was he supposed to say?
"I'm pissed you were promoted before me, because of the two of us, I deserve it more than you do and its UNFAIR that I am still a super."
Yeah, that really made him look just positively charming. At least there was something of an easy way out, and as he folded his arms stubbornly over his chest, he took it.
"You summoned me here, and you think I'm supposed to be fine with it? I was in the middle of work, Albite! What if I'd been in front of the camera? Just blipped out of existence with multiple witnesses. How would I explain that when I arrived back? Would we have had to remove or recruit all of them to keep it under wraps?" He snapped, practically beating him over the head with the words. He knew, from the state of affairs when he arrived, that it had likely been a last ditch effort on Albite's part. As exhausted as he looked, he might have been on the loosing end there... but the jealousy burning in his chest would allow no sympathy for him. Only hate, and rage, and envy so keen it cut up his insides.
He'd probably gotten promoted because he was ******** Faustite. It was an ugly thought. An unfair one, truly, but in the moment, it made perfect sense. Maybe that's what he'd been missing this whole time. Fafnir had gotten his first promotion quickly enough, back when he had been ******** Chase. Maybe not seducing Netherite had been his downfall this whole time. Maybe now that he was on Faustite's team, he might finally break through that invisible wall that had been holding him back.
That thought made him feel... dirty. He'd never gotten mixed up with Netherite because he didn't want that to be how he got anywhere in the Negaverse. He didn't want to have to... debase himself, just to get ahead. His hard work, and it had truly been hard work, should have been enough. But when had anything about the Negaverse been fair? He'd known it in the beginning, but somehow, moving to a new general had lulled him into thinking maybe things would be different out from under Labyrinthite.
Spinning on his heel, Fafnir began to stalk away, feeling a lot of things he wasn't sure what to do with. In a few steps, he stopped ubruptly, a new thought struggling up through the haze.
"Do you need to be teleported somewhere before you bleed out on the lawn? Because if not, I need to get back to work." He said over his shoulder, hoping the answer would be for the latter.
A brief blip of insight, and Albite sensed he'd struck a nerve, hovered over it for the kill - like he'd been waiting all this time for exactly this moment. The one where the dragon swathed in hues of ice boiled over into being a real, honest to gods, person. Because of all the people Albite figured coulda come up with an excuse on the fly? The guy in infiltration. The guy with all the charm, who'd been suckled off silver spoons, and probably had the most graceful-type manners bred into him from the time he was a zygote...
Fafnir struck him as one of 'em who could weave a story outta air while twirling the tail-ends of his braid between two finger's. N that story would'a been believable as hell.
'So why the fuss n spitfire?'
Really? He shoulda had it easy, shouldn't've been so offended at being called out on an emergency when his power was second to none; at least where his mothers company was concerned. Especially since, as far as Albite was aware, it wasn't like they turned Senshi in their rooms: baths, showers, middle of the night in bed with someone else when they got summoned up -- Naw -- The change came about during the in-between instance of there at home and then being gone; blipped into an office, the middle of the throne room, a battlefield freshly on fire.
Unless! -- Unless unless unless --- it didn't have ******** all to do with being summoned? Now that. That was a thought. Tempestuous kind of thought that made him want to press his luck -- and it was only all the tired that ached through his soul that made him reel that wild desire back. Wouldn'tve done to tempt fate on things he couldn't properly see through.
But still, that thought --
"Naw Faffls, m'good -- the whole lawn could use the watering anyhow," It left albites smile predacious as he rolled onto his front crushed more grass under a heaved sigh, ever admiring that smooth as glass models walk all the way across the yard. Imagined Fafnir crushing his enemies under heel as he stalked into the distance, breaking hearts, bones, teeth. Leaving them purpled and dying in the wake of his justified ire. Albite couldn't help himself. Even when Trey seemed fuming enough that the Eternal swore he shoulda seen steam billowing off the Supers body in waves; he was still so ******** cool. "I mean, lookit this place?" twitched his fingers in a mock of a wave, indicating the place and himself as a whole.
"But what m'saying is -- I'll live. Gonna have to if I wanna be seeing you again. Yeah?" and he would be seeing Fafnir again. Words goad and promise all in one, as he propped his chin into the crux of arms wrapped in dreads beneath his head.
Worse came to worse? He'd dial a ride home via Emmy -- might've ended up doing it regardless -- just to see the look on her face for how he looked. She oh so hated icky things. On second thought, maybe Fulgurite would've been the better option? Or his haybaby..could..could maus teleport people? Or was that a cat only thing?
Mmh...questions needing answers, but later, preferably after a very long nap.
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