|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Feb 11, 2023 3:44 pm
His next lead was Bloodstone. Faustite knew very little about this one; he was part of the first mission to the Rift as a Captain, if Faustite remembered correctly. Sometime afterward, Bloodstone had become a General, though the circumstances of that were not for Faustite to know. Whatever Bloodstone did to earn his promotion, Faustite was not a part of it. That made sense to him — he and the General hadn't run in the same circles.
Bloodstone was thus a mystery, known only by his involvement with medical and Roselite. Roselite was a Captain now, though he was still likely under Bloodstone's command unless he specialized elsewhere. It wasn't much of a common thread, but at least Faustite wouldn't be presenting to Bloodstone's office as a total stranger.
He would be presenting to Bloodstone's office as a wreck, however. Apart from the coughing now dredging up trace amounts of blood from a cracked throat, he had begun developing heat blisters along his extremities. His palm had been bandaged where it spontaneously fissured open, revealing a glowing orange wound that steamed into the air and dripped hissing fluid until wrapped shut. He had felt more drained as the weeks passed, and more heat sick as well; Faustite found that it was harder to keep food down, to avoid bouts of nausea, to perform to the level that was expected of him when dizziness had him pitching sideways. He hadn't bothered trying to measure his temperature; it seemed pointless when the thermometer exploded last time. Thus, he was out of easy options.
It was time for a doctor, even if said doctor was a people-doctor.
When Faustite arrived at the office door, he gave it a few short raps with the back of his knuckles. "Here to see you, Bloodstone," he announced as he leaned against the doorframe. "Hope you're ready for a challenge." He sighed a plume of smoke, ready to enter when bidden.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2023 10:33 am
Bloodstone wasn’t doing this out of the goodness of his heart. He was fairly certain there was no goodness in it. Vague tolerance for people like Celeste and Dorian and slightly more for Jonah, but that was about it.
He wasn’t doing this because Faustite was on his list of people he could tolerate. If anything, he found the fire demon to be obnoxious and childish. Bloodstone almost rolled his eyes when Faustite knocked on the door and leaned against the doorframe, but Bloodstone was busy working on drinking a cup of coffee.
No, he was doing this because he wanted to prove to the Queen that he deserved another promotion. If someone like Jet could be made a General-King, then he clearly needed to be prompted as well. If he could help Faustite then that would clearly look good for him.
On the other hand, if Faustite ended up dying for whatever reason, that was less competition.
“Don’t burn anything,” he warned as he gestured for Faustite to enter. “You’ve been having a difficult time breathing and dealing with excess heat since your mission into the Rift, is that correct?” Bloodstone asked as he turned his attention to his tablet rather than Faustite.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2023 1:00 pm
Bloodstone didn't waste time on small talk, or on rank, preferring to cut to the chase. Faustite liked that — felt a lot smoother than dancing around ceremony. He entered the office and, feeling too sluggish for pacing, donned his cincher before collapsing into a chair.
"Right," he answered. Bloodstone's attention remaining on his tablet meant that Faustite had every reason to look around the room, taking in an odd mishmash of sterile office space and the occasional strange, misplaced motivational poster or vase of fake flowers. Like a housewife was trying to decorate a husband's office because the husband didn't care, and because he didn't care, it felt like none of the items fit.
Well, whatever. His office was full of everyone else's s**t, too. He didn't mind it either way.
"We've a dearth of youma experts in the medical ward. Thought you might have some ideas." Faustite pried himself off the seat just enough to sit up into something more respectable. He felt exhausted, like he'd had his energy drained to the bones and no amount of sleep was recovering it. Perhaps it was for the best that Bloodstone didn't want to ******** around, for Faustite doubted he would have the energy for it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2023 1:51 pm
“Have you tried not being on fire?” Bloodstone asked coldly, not bothering to look at Faustite over his tablet. He was probably being serious, or at least the severity of his expression didn’t give much room to assume he had any sense of humor to spare.
“Sounds like the problem is your youma half.” Probably. Bloodstone had no idea, really. But if it got Faustite to give him something more to work with, then that’s all he cared about.
“If the heat is getting to be too much, maybe you should put it out.”
He was aware it would likely kill him. He could hear Roselite’s voice in his head scolding him.
Bloodstone sighed.
“Could be a way to use some of the crystals in the Rift to contain the fire. Lower the temperature to the rest of your body. Would have to talk to Laurelite and Axinite about it, though. They’re more versed in rocks than I am.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2023 2:46 pm
Faustite heaved a smoke-laden sigh. "Right, because it goes away when I don't need it." If he could have separated his youma side from himself and still survived, it would have been a helpful temporary fix, but as it was, he couldn't not be on fire. Doubtful he'd even be alive if the damned thing ever went out.
"Probably." He closed his eyes, rubbed his temples. "Been getting heat blisters and molten cracks in my skin. Coughing gets worse when I wear my cincher. Never had such a problem wearing it before this. Feels like I'm too hot all the time." It was bearable for now, but how long would that last? When would it be getting worse, and what would that look like? Was he going to melt into slag? Or was he going to become a youma? Would he lose control over himself? A thousand questions remained unanswered because they were unanswerable except for after the fact, and Faustite didn't want to wait that long. He couldn't wait that long.
"Will ask them about it. Need to talk to Axinite anyway." In the interim, he wanted some other ideas to try and tide himself over until their meeting time arrived.
After a beat, he asked, "Could it be my human half's failing somehow? Like it can't keep up anymore?" That was a possibility he hadn't explored.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2023 6:20 pm
Bloodstone shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, finally tossing his closed tablet pen back into his subspace so he could frown across the desk at the half youma disaster. He noted that Faustite looked miserable.
He didn’t care. Although he knew Roselite would be upset if something happened to Faustite. He had no idea why that mousey, wimpy man was so soft on other people, but he was and Bloodstone was helplessly endeared to it.
Damn him.
“Or your youma side is failing. Scoop it out and get a new one,” he shrugged. “You had an issue with eating too many starseeds recently, or did I hear the rumors incorrectly? Could be the increase in starseed consumption could have caused a breakdown in metabolic functions. Could be that you’re the youma equivalent to a diabetic, too. Gorged on too much starseed sugars and whatnot.”
He wasn’t a youma expert. He could suggest Faustite try jumping in a lake, but. At least it would stop him from burning.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2023 7:26 am
Faustite stared at the desk between them, pensive. Maybe they could swap his youma half out. He wasn't clear on what the Sovereigns knew, or what the Queen know or could do with youma; so much of that had gone unsaid, either shrouded in mystery or nonexistent. He refused to believe that they knew less about youma than he did, however. They'd been with the Negaverse far longer than him and reached loftier positions than Faustite ever expected to reach himself. If there was something to know, if there was a way to exchange his youma half for a different one, they would know it.
And if such a way didn't exist, then maybe he could figure something out with the Transverse Workshop. Jet and Aquamarine were the only two with experience using the crucible so far; he'd have to convince one of them to try.
His lip twitched at the assertion that he had a starseed problem, but he didn't argue it. Maybe he had ******** himself over by eating too many starseeds, but that didn't come with a solution. There was no stopping becoming a youma once that threshold was crossed —
Oh, the plodding panic for that. That he could be living out his last however long before his youmafication completed, and after that? No more boys. No more office. No more fighting for his ideals, or running missions, or exploring Destiny City as a maladjusted human boy. There was only the Rift. Only starseeds and human behavior emulation and turf wars.
"Right." Faustite stood on shaky legs and muttered a half-aware "Excuse me." He slid out from between the chair and the desk and headed for the door, coughing black clouds of smoke as he went. Seizing the door handle with a trembling hand, he made his way out.
He knew youmafication would happen eventually, but he didn't expect it so soon.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Feb 17, 2023 8:43 am
There was no skin off Bloodstone’s nose if Faustite wanted to excuse himself. Better than burning down his office or having a fit of immature rage, like Bloodstone had heard Faustite was known to do.
So when Faustite left, Bloodstone went back to working on the important things he had on his desk.
Would Roselite be frustrated with him for not putting more effort into helping Faustite? Probably, but what Rose didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
