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 Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 2:21 am
Follows without having to confess anything and don't confront me with my failures.Coming back to his office was supposed to be grounding. It was, but not in the way that he expected.
He expected comfort in sameness. He expected that, despite the number of people who made use of his office these days, the space would remain the same. People decorated or reorganized, but it was still functionally his. No matter who was there, his pens remained in the same drawer, his paper stacks organized the way he preferred them, and none of the furniture moved.
This time, when he stumbled through the door, he saw something occupying his desk. A book, unless he lost his mind (as he trusted it less as the days wore on). A few paces and he was before it — not a book, but a chapbook. How long had it been since he owned one? They were never replaced after Albite provoked him into burning his office to ashes.
He used a long talon to open the cover, hoping that it would spare the book some of his heat. Inside, there was a simple note. Faustite smiled bittersweet.
It didn't last; his smile devolved into a grimace. Leveraging his weight against the desk, he walked himself over to the stool and sat heavy on its unforgiving surface. He wedged his elbows against the desk, then wedged his face against the palms of his hands, the heels digging just below his cheekbones. For uncounted minutes, he breathed through his mouth. It only helped so much.
Finally, he donned his cincher. There would be no recourse for this, truly, but Faustite was the sort to press on nonetheless. With his face pressed to the cool glass, he conjured up his tablet. It took a full minute of fumbling about with one hand before he was able to call Alkmene with the native video feed disabled.
He knew his voice didn't sound the best, but. He supposed he could pass that off as anything.
"How'd you know I liked poetry?" He asked in his best mock accusation. "Don't tell me Albite let that slip."
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 2:19 pm
It had been a nice night, so far, for a patrol, but not a particularly eventful one. Alkmene had tucked away a decent amount fo energy by the time his tablet rang, so it really wasn't any trouble to drop himself down to sit on the edge of the rooftop he'd been walking over and pull it out.
He was glad for the lack of video, because it preserved what little dignity he had, grinning like an idiot when he heard Faustite's voice. God, he was so stupid over this boy.
"Nope, a lucky guess." He paused, considered the rough sound of Faustite's voice, and frowned, a little. "You okay?"
He didn't want to push too much, but a little concern never went too amiss, he was pretty sure.
"Anyway, I'd been thinking about it for a while, and finally had the time to go and get it for you. Glad I was right, if you told me you hated poetry in general or Siken specifically I'd be devastated." There was a lilt of humor to his voice, but it was a little true. If his gift had been rejected, he would have been quite upset.
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 2:39 pm
The question went unanswered. For now.
"If I was that bold, would've told you what to get me instead." Would've run Haru through the whole rigamarole of the returns process, made him opt for that store credit (because a cash return was at a 50% rate or something equally greedy), and made him pick up a book that Faustite truly wanted. For what was the point in anything else? Either one accepted a gift for what it was, or committed fully to one's own rudeness.
Truly, Haru could've given him a bag of wet leaves and he would've been delighted that Haru had thought to give him anything. But that was better discovered through experiences than articulated; there was more to enjoy in the journey of getting to know a person, of getting to know oneself, when they could come by that knowledge with their own inferences.
He sighed out something heavy, something sullen. Then came a pause that lasted nearly half a minute.
"Had a scrap," he admitted. "Mostly bruises, some burns." Then he snorted. A bitter chuckle followed.
"Imagine — the thing on fire can burn."
The truth went untold. For now.
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 3:34 pm
Alkmene shrugged. "Well, as someone who values honest and direct feedback, I'm glad to hear that," he said, and then he laughed, a little. Yeah, that seemed like Faustite. It even seemed like it might be kind of a fun time.
"Anyway, I'll endeavor to keep catering to your preferences." Maybe more poetry. Maybe he'd try something else, see what direction it went in. No reason to let himself fall into a rut, after all, just letting himself go for the easy stuff over and over again. That was no fun.
The silence, though, stretched, and Alkmene's expression tilted into a frown, dipping lower the longer Faustite was quiet.
The response was also not exactly pleasant, but at least it wasn't a total dismissal of his concerns. A tiny sigh passed his lips, and he shook his head, not that Faustite could see.
"It's really not serious? I know I'm not a healer, or medical, or anything, but you know I can do decent first aid."
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 3:51 pm
"No." The burns, the bruises — they would heal on their own. They weren't the damage that worried the corners of Faustite's mind, or became his only desperate, nagging thought.
He'd had it beaten into his head before: if he was in trouble, he needed to tell someone. Anyone would do. Better that it was a part of his team to contain the damage to his reputation. As if he had much reputation left to damage, but there was something cautious and commendable in trying to save face, he assumed.
But what could Haru do about it? What could any of them do about it? The only one who could understand, he was sure, was Lionel. Even at that, he doubted the boy would understand his cravings for how disgusted he was at the thought of eating another starseed. Lionel's introduction to the dangerous gems was that of a Eion's father teaching Errol not to smoke — puff his way through a whole pack and endure the horrid sickness that came after. Condition the body if one couldn't condition the mind. Only difference was, a host of people died — permanently — in Lionel's conditioning of his body.
So Alkmene seemed even less likely to help, but he was just as unlikely to rebuke him for it. Perhaps, then, the deciding factor was that Alkmene wouldn't spread the news, either. It would remain stuck there, between them, words that faded out as soon as they were spoken. Lost in the space between tablet comms.
"Can't stop eating starseeds." A pause, then a trembling sigh. "Don't know what to do."
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 4:21 pm
Oh. That was....much more serious than Alkmene had anticipated. He took a breath, and was, again, glad for the lack of video that his his expression, which surely wobbled with this news.
"Was there something that started it?" He asked, softly. He wasn't an addiction expert, wasn't a doctor, couldn't really guess what to do with this--just knew that when his father picked up the bottle after one of his periodic attempts to quit drinking to keep his mother from leaving, there was usually an inciting incident. Faustite's probably made a lot more sense than the things that had driven Leon Jaeger to drink, but....that was Alkmene being charitable, he knew.
"And--what do you need?" Let Faustite tell him what Alkmene could do; better than trying to impose his own vision of what his aid ought to look like.
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 4:39 pm
"Magic."
… He quickly realized that wasn't enough of an explanation. After a breath, he expounded: "Met a Dark Mirror. Basic. Got him to use his magic on me. Something — I don't know — want-driven. Felt like my life's mission narrowed down to eating starseeds. Was all I could think about. All I could do to try for his. When I missed it, I went for others'."
His fingers were trembling, he saw. Clenching and unclenching his hand, he eyed them again. Then he shoved them under his thigh with a deepening frown.
What did he need? He didn't know. He guessed company, but Alkmene's company couldn't help flaunting his starseed. Being a Super spelled disaster — they couldn't go toe-to-toe if Faustite couldn't tamp down the instinct to reach for what he craved.
So, then, how did he beat it the first time? As he thought about it, his mood continued to sour. Schörl — that was who he owed for getting his addiction under control. She'd kept him so busy that he hadn't time for sleep, let alone starseeds, and any deviation from what she wanted him to do would cinch his leash ever tighter, until it became a choke chain. Had to be another, less miserable way. Right?
"A drink," he decided. "Getting shitfaced might take my mind off it." As long as he was drunk enough to not have a mind. But, again, what if he shed his glamour and reached for the prize? Could they call someone before he couldn't undo that mistake?noir songbird time to play bad decision bingo
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 7:39 pm
Alkmene filed away Faustite's explanation--he'd have to see if he could find this Dark Mirror, maybe have a chat about how to be careful with your magic. But that wasn't the important thing right now.
The important thing was that Faustite needed him, and he was going to do his absolute best to be a distraction.
The request made him flinch. Made him take a deep breath. Probably wasn't a good idea to trade one vice for the other. But Alkmene wasn't an expert.
(And Faustite was not Leon Jaeger.)
"Do you want me to come to you, or do you want to come by Hina and I's place?"Strickenized oh the absolute best game
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 7:52 pm
"Your place. Make sure she's home." The just in case went unsaid, but Alkmene would understand its presence.
It was a tragic, violent thing, craving starseeds — better that they accounted for it in as many ways as they could. Hina could be the Albite to Haru's Kamacite if Eion lost control. That he had to plan for this was —
Faustite set his jaw. Eyes shut, he forced himself to take a long, slow breath.
"Meet you there in an hour." He trusted Alkmene to tell him if he needed more than that.
What a ******** thanks for a gift, he thought.
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