Tama looked down at his hands. They trembled now. Yet they still held the Cosmos knight’s ring and the ornate dagger.
Why had he not been able to put them down? It had taken him all the way back from the Rift to know why. He was afraid. He was afraid, that if he let them go, he’d let the memories go, too.
And he knew how fragile memories were. It had been a year now since his corruption and all he had remembered in all that time was two things: Faustite putting his hand through his chest to turn his starseed and the memory of a person who he held dear but may as well be dead for all he remembered of them.
The Mauvian had let himself in. Sitting on Faustite’s desk, he waited for the general to return. Would he be quick in returning or would his precious Rift keep him away longer? Tama didn’t care. He’d wait forever if he had to.
Of course, the wait was all the time he needed to seethe more about what he had seen. What he had remembered…
Tama had made a promise to a knight of Cosmos once before. He’d make him promise something in return, too. That he’d be there when he had attained his human form, just as the Mauvian had been there for each of the knight’s upgrades.
And, he would have been, if Tama had not been interrupted that day by Faustite.
A hand went to his chest just recalling that day. It hurt. Something deep inside still hurt just as bad as it had that day.
“You knew. You always knew.”
His violet eyes never left the door for signs of that god-forsaken light that was his general.
Faustite had no pressing need to return to his office. He had already created a working group out of the few members who saw fit to stick around; the only times he left them behind where when he needed a tool or stolen curio out of his office. Thus, when he returned, he was covered in Rift dust, and had no intention of staying longer than the handful of seconds it would take him to rifle a drawer or two.
He felt company on the other side of his office door, though he hadn't expected any. Either it was Haymitch curled up in that pile of discarded clothes Albite made for him, or it was Tama expecting his head pats and trying to extort him for assistance.
When he opened the door and saw who waited for him, it set the tone for their interaction. Likely he was there to berate Faustite again, lecture him on what he did wrong and how he'd never deserve his current stature at the head of a team. Whatever it was, it would wait; Faustite's greeting was simply looking at the cat, then looking at his destination — the rightmost bookshelf that hid a strange little charm that he thought would prove useful. Hopefully Tama was sitting around waiting for someone else and using his office as a kind of hub, because he wasn't in the mood to deal with the cat at present.
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2023 2:30 pm
Finally, Faustite walked in. Looked at him. And just proceeded to go about his business. As if the Mauvian didn’t have his a** on his desk just begging to be noticed.
As if he wasn’t even there.
There weren’t many things that could get Tama angry, truly. He was a bottle of contained emotions, each one keep in a jar under a cold and distant lid. Nothing came out of that deeply suppressed place unless he wanted it to. There were few things that could cause the seal to break, very few. But with contents under pressure, no matter how well-contained, there was always a breaking point where the contents exceeded their limiters. And when that happened, the container would be utterly destroyed, no semblance of its former form detectable.
“You’re not just going to ignore me.”
Being ignored. Perhaps that was one of the only things powerful enough to shatter a seal that was made of vanity and performed confidence. Just enough to break the very container those emotions had lived in for who know how long.
Tama got up off the desk without so much as a thought to what he was going to do. His eyes were already clouded by rage and his vision narrowed so that he could only see what was right in front of him. He watched Faustite’s hand go for something just out of his eyesight. He had decided it would go no further.
He stabbed at the general’s hand with the dagger not sure if he could even hit with it or not, but at this point he no longer cared.
"Ow," Faustite hissed, grimacing as he wrenched his hand away. "******** damn it, you shitbrick of a cat!" The General swatted at Tama with the heel of his injured hand. Then he looked it over, eyeing the swollen-looking mark that dragged between his metacarpals. Nothing was damaged, at least.
"What the ******** got into you?" He straightened up, then glared down at the furbag-turned-boy-but-not-Boy who had death in his eyes. "******** looked at you. Don't need to say hello and ask for a detailed report on your shitty ******** day to acknowledge your existence."
He'd gotten more than he deserved, as far as Faustite was concerned. He'd almost grown to like the mouthy little c** stain, but Tama always got up to something that would have Faustite regretting ever stealing the damn cat from the White Moon. He'd had half a mind to go looking for that blonde-haired idiot again, if he thought he could return the cat so simply. The fact that the Queen had entrusted his care to Faustite had stopped him both from returning the furbag or sinking him to the bottom of the Reservoir as Taenite had suggested.
Faustite swiped the strange charm from the shelf in his bookcase before he slammed the glass front shut with the back of his metal heel. He'd overestimated in his rage, however, and the door slammed with spidering cracks up the entire face of the glass. Faustite vented a growl of frustration.
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2023 9:13 am
“‘What the ******** has got into me?’” He jumped back as Faustite swatted at him. At the very least, it keep his hand with the dagger away from the general. At worst, the blasé attempt at striking back just confirmed to Tama how little of a threat Faustite felt he was.
“You don’t even give a damn about anyone but yourself, you know that?”
He watched as the glass door cracked much like any sense of rationality or self preservation in the Mauvian.
“Just take anything you want without any regard for who the hell you hurt along the way.” He spat out as he moved in closer again. “I ******** remember. All because you would do whatever it takes to get a little more power — or whatever you thought was waiting down there in hell for you. Goddamn anyone else who was willing to go into the depths with you!”
He stabbed at Faustite again, this time not with the dagger but with his claws.
"Don't be stupid, you piece of c**-covered s**t," Faustite seethed at the Mauvian. "If I only cared about myself, I wouldn't have a ******** team. I wouldn't be here, so piss off with your ridiculous accusations." He shook his head at the nasty little rat before pacing back to the office door to slam it shut. Not that it would help much, since they were already committed to yelling at each other.
As he turned, there was a dagger coming at him. He caught it with his palm, sending a shock of pain down in a way that a sharp dagger hurt quite differently. Then he reached for the Mauvian's throat — the sooner he grabbed it, the sooner he'd shut the ******** up and put a stop to this pointless, vapid conversation.
"Don't give a ******** about any power. Don't care about accolades. We didn't ******** know what was in there, but it caused youma to vanish and could've put us all at a disadvantage. You ******** know this, Tama! You were there before the rest!"
Which was what made this exchange so incomprehensible. At what point did the Mauvian gain the perception that Faustite was only out for himself? He couldn't recall anything that might've been the culprit. It wasn't putting himself into that energy supply tube, because all that did was drain him into a stupid level of exhaustion. Was it the fact that he led the mission? He didn't know that anyone else wanted to do it, except maybe Jet when he ordered everyone to stand down. Was it when he went back down and found the crucible? Or that he continued going down with a smaller team to make use of the damn thing?
"Listen. Only reason I keep going down there is to turn that ******** crucible into a decent enough consolation prize to outweigh the costs of going down there. Can assure you that I'm not getting ******** out of it but headaches and irritation. Won't even be able to use what we came up with, because I'm not completely youma and I don't have a ******** weapon, so cut your s**t and sit the ******** down," he seethed, snarling.
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“‘Team’? Is that what you call what you take for your own? How many of them are only here because you turned their starseeds? How many had people of their own you took them from?”
Tama didn’t even try to dodge Faustite’s hand at his throat. Let him take the breath that formed his words. Just like he had taken everything else.
“I was there before the rest. I saw you. God, I was even worried about you — cared what happened to your dumb a**. I’m a ******** fool. All… you do… is… burn things…”
He grabbed Faustite’s wrist and dug his claws into them. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to remove the half-youma’s hand from his throat.
"What the ******** are you on about?" Faustite narrowed his brows at the Mauvian. "Is this about Fafnir and Heliodor?" Faustite rolled his eyes as he scoffed.
"Only had the option to kill him or corrupt him. Better to have him alive for their reunion to even be possible." But why would Tama care about that? He never seemed bothered by anyone else on the team, never seemed attached to any of them, either. He'd seen Alkmene and Tama flirt with each other, as well as Tama and Taenite, but that always looked mutually beneficial to him rather than anything with real depth. Tama was as aloof as the animals that Mauvians emulated.
Had he remembered something about himself, then?
The thought was cut short when claws dug into his wrist, and Faustite hissed as he cast the cat aside. Grasping his forearm, he winced as he looked at his arm. Thin, black trickles bubbled up like tar before they trickled down into his sleeve.
"Or did you remember something? Out with it, Cat."
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“What the ******** are you calling ‘options’? You aren’t deciding what to drink when you’re out at a bar, you’re messing with people’s lives.”
How dare he act as if he’d cared what had happened to those two? He hadn’t even meant for them to find out! He hadn’t meant for him to find out anything either. And, what? Would he now claim that there was some sort of reunion for him, too? A knight would never want him back. Not like this. What would he do? Tama couldn’t exactly follow that same route he did that day to show the nameless knight his new form. The star on his forehead was as black as his heart was now.
His hand was stained with Faustite’s tar-like blood.
“I remember him. The one I was going to the night you…” He opened his other hand and revealed the Cosmos knight’s ring from before. His hand was shaking annd still bandaged up from burning it earlier and he dropped the ring with its star symbol. He stared at it on the floor, his violet eyes narrowing.
“…you…”
For a moment, it looked like he might be regaining control of himself. But then his claws extended. He launched himself at Faustite like a feral animal, scratching for any bit of flesh he could reach.
"They aren't lives if they're dead!" He spat back at the cat, words sizzling on his tongue. Was Tama really accusing him of having a god complex? What the ******** got into him? Was it the White Moon? Were they trying to pull him back to their side of love, acceptance, and endless horseshit?
Oh. Oh. So he remembered something about being brought into the Negaverse now. Good for him. Wasn't that just ******** swell.
"So this is about you," he observed coolly, though fire boiled and surged inside him. "After all that dancing around the point." Explained the god complex part — assumed Faustite saw an opportunity to destabilize the cat's life, to ******** with what he had, start him from scratch with his memories put through a shredder. What with the way Tama was acting, Faustite almost wished that was the truth. Let the furball suffer. Let him grow all morose and despondent. Let him try to crawl to the White Moon, then drag him back. Show him what playing god means.
Then Tama launched at him, and Faustite braced. The cat gouged his face — Faustite felt the boiling hot slice across his cheek, but he didn't much feel the pain. He tried to catch the furry rat of a boy, restrain him, keep him from getting away as fire burst out around them.
"You're just like the rest," he hissed over the pop and crackle of burning muscle and fat.
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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.
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So, he’d managed a hit. With how inexperienced he was fighting in this body proved nothing versus his rage. But Faustite was fast in a way only a general could be and Tama wasn’t in any form. His core began to flare up.
Tama had seen this before.
Then why didn’t he move?
That reason was far more complicated. He had seen this before. It was with that knight again. Why was it always memories of that knight? It could take his breath away, stay his hand, stop him dead in his tracks. And that’s what it did this time. Yes, he had seen it before. His corruption wasn’t the first time he’d met Faustite. The general had damn-well scouted out his prey beforehand. The first time he’d seen that flame attack he hadn’t had his human form.
Tears that he had fought back for so long streamed down his face.
“And what if I am like this rest?” And then a scream. He hadn’t moved and now the fire licked his pale skin and burned through his flesh just as it turned his ego to ash. He fell to his knees. He was in so much pain. He’d never been hurt this badly before. The ash took his voice so it was barely much more than a whisper, his eyes full of tears but also accusation.
"Because I thought you could be better," Faustite spat as tempestuous fire calmed around him. His hair, no longer whipped about in the fury, fell board-flat against his shoulders. He paid no heed to the black blood that streamed from the wounds on his face. His attention was on Tama, now collapsed and cowed curious.
He supposed it was familiar to him — all this wondering of why me. Circling back on the unchangeable to examine it from every angle, interrogate it for all the meaning it could possibly have. Survivor's guilt had such a hold, even on Mauvians like Tama. But, he knew, once Tama survived enough times, he would stop asking these questions. Life became a punishment. Life became a sentence until the feline reached an appropriate level of penance. What that penance was, Faustite didn't yet know. He hadn't found it himself.
"I was wrong. Far be it for me to be a good judge of character." Faustite scoffed, smiling sardonically. "Should've asked Albite what he thought first."
He approached until his firelight burnt away all the shadows on the Mauvian's face. When he stooped, a clawed hand seized the fallen feline's throat and a thumb pressed up against his chin. "So tell me — did you find him again? Tell him all about what we've been up to? You two looked so nauseatingly attached to each other," Faustite explained, words cooked up into a sizzle on his tongue.
"Wouldn't shock me if you sold us all out so you could stare into his ******** eyes again."
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Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2023 11:20 am
If only.
Better always seemed to be something for someone other than him. If anything, he’d gotten worse at things. He couldn’t awaken senshi on his own. Couldn’t upgrade them, either. He couldn’t go into the Rift without being babysat. Couldn’t fight worth a damn even with his new form. Couldn’t have held his own in a fight against Faustite if he was a lieutenant rather than a general.
The only thing he’d gotten good at was transforming into his humanoid form and even that was threatening to break right now.
“Do you evening ******** listen?” Tama choked out with the pressure on his throat. “I can’t remember! If I knew his name, I would have used it! I’m not like you with an aversion to using people’s actual names.” And he’d be willing to bet Faustite didn’t know, either.
His voice matched Faustite’s sardonic tone, but it was clear Tama’s didn’t have much more in him. His vision was beginning to blur and his aura began to fade. Not yet. Not here. He’s liable to drop me off at a vet if I faint like this, but I can’t hold on much longer. Don’t show you’re in pain. Don’t… don’t…
He wanted to break the cat's neck. He could break the cat's neck, but for the fact that the Queen entrusted him with Tama's continued growth and safety. But what was there to grow and safeguard if the damned furball wouldn't apply himself, nor invest in the Negaverse? So far as Faustite knew, he'd only completed tasks specifically assigned to him, and spent the rest of that time being a layabout or mocking everyone else, particularly him.
Perhaps that was what cut to the quick when he was around Tama. He saw a part of himself in the furbag's antics, from the long-ago time when he was a Lieutenant. He remembered talking back with as much scathing wit as he could manage, and that vitriol was met with much worse outcomes than this spat in the office.
Maybe that's what this was. Jealousy. Envy that Tama had it better than his younger self.
"Then I expect you to get yourself the ******** together, do whatever the ******** you Mauvians do, and crawl back in here with an apology worth accepting. Until then, stay the <********> out of my office!" He seethed, and with a wave of his hand, banished Tama from the space.
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can edit if you would like! if not, fin?
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Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2023 4:10 pm
What was that? Mercy or restraint? Faustite had taken his hand off this neck and was dismissing him. Was he satisfied enough that Tama would never find the knight he remembered without so much as a name?
He got up off his knees, but he was unsteady. He swayed and stared at the floor to balance himself. He wouldn’t look at the general. Couldn’t. It was enough that he could leave the office on his own two feet and with his dignity left in tact.
“Should have ******** killed me.”
He muttered as he wandered to the infirmary. He wasn’t like Faustite and he certainly wasn’t like the rest. He was an idiot with nothing to show for his suffering but an old ring and some new burn marks.
