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 Posted: Fri Mar 24, 2023 4:45 am
Faustite was feeling nostalgic. Seldom had he felt that way until confronted with the prospect of his slow decline into youmafication.
Seldom did he act on it, either, preferring to keep his sentiments to himself as a Negaverse General. Even if many of his duties were distributed to other capable Eternals on his team, he had a sense of public-facing self that he liked to maintain, even as his body fell apart. That nostalgia was something saved for his off hours — the ones he spent among the boys who treasured him as much as he treasured them.
But this nostalgia wasn't something warm and kind and readily shared. It was more private than something he wanted to show to his husbands or his friends. A life had to be consumed for it, and energy orbs afterward, before Faustite could vanish from one plane of existence to the next.
He appeared atop the Farnsworth, feeling a burgeoning exhaustion settle in his bones. The repairs on it had been paused for nearly two years, their payout for the fire still in limbo, so the construction equipment had long been removed but the tape and fencing remained to keep out the curious. Parts of it had been cleaned up — the shattered glass was gone and replaced with new panes, for one — but much of the detritus kicked up by the battle had remained.
Faustite stepped to the edge of the roof. The Farnsworth was terribly tall at nearly twenty stories, but enough buildings existed on either side that getting back down without shattering one's body was possible. The view was second to none, however, for he could see every space where a battle had broken out. He remembered where Ganymede had been when Cybele had faced off against her. He remembered spotting Kamacite for a few fleeting instances at a time, starseeding the enemy and moving on to more. He recalled faces without names, youma that he had encountered in the Rift afterward, and the place where Benitoite had killed someone. He remembered Jet yelling.
And he remembered Cybele, once again in white, in the bowels of the building.
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Posted: Tue Mar 28, 2023 1:26 am
The Farnsworth. Abzu hadn't been aware of this war under the surface when the building's construction had halted and burnt. So far as he could tell, it was a fluke in creation, a fault in electronics, a misaligned pillar or pole or something somewhere tripping something to cause ... some sort of issue. Abzu would leave the mechanics of it to the architects, but something had always felt a bit unexpected about the whole thing considering the effort that had been put into this behemoth of a building. Later discoveries had exposed to him that the Farnsworth Incident was more than likely not just a fluke. A fight probably took place here, between the sides of chaos and order, and ... well, the building certainly lost for it. He wasn't sure what else had been lost for it, but it certainly had been something. The reconstruction was coming along nicely, at least. He could tell from the heights this place provided. One of the greatest advantages that his form offered was the ability to reach heights and vantage points he had never thought possible -- at least, not without an elevator. That was how Abzu had found himself there that day, sitting with his saxophone in one hand and pressing his other palm into the banister underneath him. He was aware of an aura nearby, and it did give him a moment's hesitation, but only a moment -- probably wouldn't be like that girl with the axe, right? In any case, he now had some ways to defend himself beyond simply having a good ear for music.
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Tue Mar 28, 2023 4:48 pm
The ambient presence of Order had Faustite wrinkling his nose for how it grated against his senses. Bizarrely, it came with a saxophone accompaniment — and Faustite turned as soon as he heard it, then spotted the Neptune knight lurking by the courtesy bars. Mind your step, they said, now on a background of smooth jazz.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" He asked the knight. Anywhere else was better than here, where he wanted quietude to reflect.
While he waited, he tried to suppress a cough.
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Posted: Wed Mar 29, 2023 4:31 am
As perhaps expected, the aura--the general, he observed--neared and decided to talk to him directly. His saxophone music had a way of drawing people in, usually out of a novel curiosity. It was a good distraction tactic at the very least; it was a good tactic to get people disarmed from the outset and willing to talk at the ideal, which was his goal. He'd ignore the aberration that was the swaying girl with an axe. Abzu drew the saxophone away from his lips and glanced more clearly in the direction of the general. The fire in his gut didn't miss his notice, which allowed him to suss out who this was fairly easily. He had seen enough in the database and heard enough from Pendour that he knew this was Faustite, and he was usually considered a problem. Abzu saw no point in reacting defensively, though. Why start out making a conversation hostile? Instead, what Faustite was met with was one of his winning smiles, a quirk to his lips, a dancing light in the lift of his cheeks. "No, actually. Part of the reason why I'm out here. The view is nice from this high up." Abzu glanced out toward the city, taking Faustite mostly out of his direct view. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" The question was a curious lilt. "Or is that somewhere here?"
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Wed Mar 29, 2023 2:07 pm
Faustite blinked when the boy tried to… Smolder at him, if he had to choose a word. Normally boys didn't do that when they met someone who was effectively inhuman and on fire; no, the more typical response was to attack him indiscriminately. While it surprised him, it ultimately was not a reason to do something drastic about this one.
He was right in that the view was nice, if one had determined that nice didn't care much for its backdrop of building halted halfway through its reconstruction. Nice didn't need to know what had happened here previously. Nice only needed some aesthetics, removed from their context.
But the stranger's next questions earned the General's exhausted ire. "Is there a ******** echo up here?" Faustite asked, words sizzling. He flinched when he felt a fluid-filled vesicle burst inside his mouth, down his throat. "Don't go ******** mining me for information. Mind your ******** business, Squire."
He had half a mind to summon a set of youma for him, if he had the energy. Might have to call for one of his teammates to chase this one off like an irritating fly on the wall.
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Posted: Wed Mar 29, 2023 2:47 pm
The aforementioned squire chuckled quickly at the ask about the echo--the question had been indeed echoed, but it was to make a point. "Perhaps," he observed, perhaps a mild bit cheeky, but he did his best to keep it at a minimum. Probably shouldn't poke the bear -- or the firepit, as it were. "Not trying to mine you for information," because he wasn't, and that was an honest statement. The only information he really had to provide was who he had been able to trust--Akaganeite, for instance, had seemed trustable if convinced of the Negaverse's lies due to her own forced corruption--and who not to trust--like that lady with the axe. Faustite had plenty of information gathered on him already; Abzu wasn't sure if there was anything he could contribute. Perhaps besides the fact that he seemed to be suffering from something with the way he flinched. Abzu keyed in to that, but he didn't draw attention to it. "Was just asking. You asked me if I had somewhere to be, so I returned the question and continued the conversation." Abzu hummed quietly. "I guess there is a bit more to it on my side. Music sounds different up here and in emptier buildings like this. Can appreciate the actual echo." It was fun to play with, honestly, and it seemed to draw some attention...
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Mon Apr 10, 2023 9:09 am
"You ask like an a*****e," Faustite told him irritably. This one was a waste of time to talk to, as far as Faustite had discerned. Whoever thought it was a grand idea to play a ******** instrument on top of a building and not get the hell away from it when a General appeared clearly placed no value on their lives.
Nor did Faustite have any interest in speaking with this one about matters as private as the ones going through his mind. He did not require a musical accompaniment, nor did he require a stranger's time to sort a decision that ultimately proved as difficult as the one he was facing.
There was more at stake. His time up here was short if he intended to get anything done without being accosted by knights or senshi alike. When he was certain this one had no intention of attacking, he kept the Squire in his periphery as he walked to the edge of the building. With a quick leap, he was on the next building down, then the next, then the next, until he was nearing ground level. By then, the Squire's spot was no longer visible, which granted him a modicum of satisfaction.
From there, he could visit Squiddy's last site of action on his own. Better to visit graves with a measure of the solemnity and respect that the Squire lacked.
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