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 Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 8:27 pm
His first day was the worst day. It was tolerable. Faustite felt his legs cramp if he sat for too long. His head pounded, but if he held it under the tepid filth sluice that passed for a river, he felt better — as long as he didn't swallow any of it. Youma largely left him be, with only a few stragglers harassing him for energy. The rest treated him like a curious fixture, as most recognized him from the years spent trespassing in their territory, no longer incensed or greatly intrigued.
It was the first day that gave him the thought of trying energy orbs. Faustite had reached a salt basin where giant, petrified mushrooms had grown upwards in the gaps between the plates. He traversed the valleys between the plateaus where the salt runoff was thickest, but the petrified mushroom caps had grown large enough to provide ample shade against the bleeding hole in the sky. It was against the base of a plateau that he had sat, mostly in cover. It was the first time he had sat down since entering. He had thought that, between the crystalline structure forming across a mushroom's trunk and the ample cover itself, he wouldn't be bothered.
But when he pulled the orb from subspace, he watched a few mushroom caps remove themselves and allow the false sun to blind him. Crystals plucked themselves off the trunk, one by one, sprouting chitinous legs that tapped holes into the salted floor.
Faustite had immediately tossed the orb to the ambush and departed on his way. Where he would go, he didn't know, didn't care; he could only wonder if an energy orb could've held him over, could've weaned him off like methadone in place of heroin.
His second day was better. His legs cramped constantly, he trembled, and he was drenched in cold sweat. His eyes struggled to focus. He starved, but tasted warning bile in his throat in tandem. During a short respite, he tried some stale beef jerky that he poached from the back of his dresser drawer, but dry heaved twice before he could finish the first stick.
It wouldn't do, anyway. It wasn't a starseed.
After making his way back to the ruined city at the foot of the Citadel, Faustite slumped against the few remaining bricks of a once-grandiose fireplace. He curled into it, the irony thoroughly lost to him, as he began to doze.
Then he woke to the thrilling feel of a Captain at the edge of his senses. Black-rimmed eyes flew open, and it was all he could do to amass a handful of nearby youma to heed his commands. It was all he could do to say that, whoever came down those steps would be their master, would have their unerring obedience in any task asked of them. And they would follow his orders regardless of any that Faustite had given after this exchange, for that was his order, and he did not care for argument.
Only then did he settle back into the sand-strewn ruin of a fireplace, counting seconds to the throb in his head.
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Posted: Tue Sep 20, 2022 6:32 pm
Celadonite had spent his entire three hours as Lionel going from fast food restaurant to fast food restaurant, and now he had an entire thirteen gallon trashbag filled with all kinds of food. Bags and bags of it, one of each of the menu items…there had to be at least twenty thousand calories there, but…math was too hard to deal with so he didn’t actually know.
Still. It would be enough for Faustite, he was sure.
He still hated the Rift. And quite honestly, Celadonite was certain that he would always hate the Rift but. He was the only one who could do this safely, and Faustite needed him. He couldn’t let him down.
He could never let Faustite down.
Drawing in a long, slow breath, Celadonite came closer. “Faustite. I have food. I told you that I would come back today, I hope that you’re feeling a bit better.” No starseeds, though…
Celadonite had taken one from a sleeping homeless man and had it safely in his subspace pocket just in case things got ugly but…
They wouldn’t get ugly.
They couldn’t.
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Posted: Sun Oct 09, 2022 5:16 am
Oh, he knew that voice. Hungered thing perked for it, claws coming alive over the brickwork of the fireplace as he hoisted himself out of it.
Oh, Celadonite came with food. Of course he came with food. What use was announcing it?
It was a moment's worth of work to find his way to the ruined hole in the corner of the building, climb up, climb out. It was another moment's worth of work to round that artifact of a dead era, to find Celadonite so pleased, if distrustful of the Rift. Celadonite was ever a cute boy, so eager to please, so endlessly caring. Faustite loved him very much, but his hunger did not.
His hunger knew only a love for starseeds. Of all the food Celadonite carried with him, there was but one morsel among them worth eating.
Feeling dizzied and starved, Faustite had to wipe his mouth on the back of a sleeve as he approached. He felt his guts wrench for how little he trusted himself, but he pressed on. Celadonite deserved better from him.
"Glad to see you," he heard himself say. That, he knew, was true.
He also knew that Celadonite had the last starseed in the Rift.orangeish sherbert oh god it's been so long, i forgot how to write
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Posted: Tue Oct 18, 2022 7:10 am
Celadonite watched him and felt his expression soften slightly. “Glad to see you too.” He didn’t comment that Faustite looked like utter hell, he was sure that he knew, and there was no reason to bring it up. “I brought food. A s**t ton of it, everything I could think of, got some strange looks but. It was all for you so it didn’t really matter.”
He set the bag down and opened it so that the mountain of food spilled over towards the other half youma. “Help yourself. Eat all you can. And tell me how you’ve been doing.”
Again, it was on the tip of his tongue to comment that he looked like s**t but…
He bit the response back and instead, held out the fattest of the burritos from the fast food taco joint.
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Posted: Tue Oct 18, 2022 6:46 pm
Faustite smiled. Celadonite was such an endlessly devoted boy; truly, he hadn't deserved any of his misfortunes. Didn't deserve to spend his money frivolously on food, only to drag it out to this place he detested. Celadonite did not deserve Faustite's hungers, his distractions.
He felt his smile falter, his eyes well, his throat begin to close. Celadonite only wanted to do well by him. Wanted to stop his starvation.
Faustite did not approach him, even when the smell of fresh cooked food reached him. It smelled so vastly different than the Rift's metallic austerity, and the scent of the burrito overwhelmed him so; he had to swallow twice before he could speak without drowning in his own saliva.
"Told them to obey you. Just in case." His attention jumped from Celadonite's face, to the burrito, to his chest, to his face again. Faustite swallowed once more. "I don't —"
Both hands clasped over his mouth and his shoulders jerked once. Thin rivulets of black streaked from his eyes. Faustite forced himself to take a long breath, to feel it fill his smoke-saturated lungs before he released it slowly. Only when he was sure that his throat had relaxed did he dare speak again. "I can't trust myself.
"Set it on the table."
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