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 Posted: Wed Mar 29, 2023 6:04 am
There was something about this that Faustite found cute, and fun. Maybe he found it that way because he wasn't quite sober anymore. Maybe it was just similar enough to his old wants as a teenaged boy that if he squinted and ignored the danger, ignored the way lives had been devolved into unlives, it was precisely the romantic escape of two boys going on an adventure that he had read as a child. It was what he wanted and learned to forget that he wanted.
When Faustite walked through the Hall of shadows with his hand near Taenite's, he was still able to walk a straight line. He still felt the unspoken tragedy of this jaunt into the Rift. He knew they had time, though. They had alcohol. He could feel good again.
When they descended the stairs, haunted by the ghosts of the long-gone locked behind glass, he felt the same childlike giddiness that he imagined the hobbits felt when they first started on their own adventure. It was like stepping into his own morose version of a storybook, its ending already spoilt, all parties aware that the main character dies in the end and nothing truly gets resolved.
But he could pretend. He could still wear his cincher for about a minute at a time and hold his boy's hand. That felt good — looked good with their matching rings.
Once they reached the Rift, Faustite was faced with what he would inevitably become. Husks of people roamed this dead world in the shape of horses, dogs, or winged creatures. They took all manner of shapes and behaviors, emulated what was human, hated it, manipulated agents with it. Here, human was an afterthought. It was something to be coveted jealously by some and reviled by others, but human only mattered to a youma's daily life in the sense that human bodies mattered for their energy, or human starseeds mattered for their sustenance.
It was on the precipice, outside the doors, that Faustite had to relinquish Taenite's hand and wrench the cincher off his metal grate with messy haste. He doubled over, coughed and coughed until the thicker plumes of smoke waned and he spat a tablespoon's worth of black onto the eerie grey earth. Once he recovered enough that he could straighten up and wipe his mouth, he motioned for Taenite to hand over the wine bottle.
"Anything you want to start with? We've got rocks, more rocks, some youma, crystals. Know some weird crystal formations. And a river of poison, if you want to see if it's like gasoline."
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Posted: Wed Mar 29, 2023 3:11 pm
While Faustite coughed and expelled whatever he could manage, Taenite took another drink from the bottle he had with them. The Rift wasn’t exactly a place to let one’s guard down, but when Faustite was already dying… Well, Taenite thought living a little dangerously might help them feel more alive. Even if it only lasted for a little while.
And despite drinking, he was there for a reason. He wanted -- needed -- to find something that they didn’t have an answer for yet. He was good at obtaining information. Pretty damn amazing at it. So why couldn’t he come up with a way to help tame the fire that was burning through Faustite?
“River of poison sounds cool,” he hummed thoughtfully as he passed the bottle over. There was plenty to try their magic on, plenty of mysteries in the Rift that had yet to be uncovered.
“Might be a little too dangerous if we want to get back in one piece,” he added after a moment. “Weird crystals or some youma might be a good start. Might as well see if you can replace the dud in your stomach,” he nodded irreverently at the burning fire.
It wasn’t his fault if he was angry with the thing that was killing Faustite and forcing him to the thought of purification.
“You good…?” he asked after a few moments. He’d had a couple more bottles tucked in his subspace, just in case.
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Posted: Sun Apr 02, 2023 3:57 am
Once Faustite caught a few breaths, he straightened with a huff. "Fine." He glanced at Taenite before stepping away, gaining a few feet of distance between them, then took a long swig. Alcohol, especially the higher proof, moss-tasting s**t like this, burned the hell out of his mouth in a manner that was actually offensive to a being half-made of fire. And as he pulled away from the bottle to wince about it, the alcohol reached his stomach and flared out in a bright burst. Nothing nearly so flashy as Taenite's magic, or far-reaching as Faustite's ability, but it was enough to catch someone on fire if they were standing close by.
The bottle went back to Taenite. "Some friendlier youma down in the ruins below us. Long as we stick close to the Spire, we'll find the more obedient ones." Might be safer for both of them, since any youma with a degree of perception could see that Faustite wasn't at his best.
Faustite beckoned for his boy — his husband — to follow with the hand that bore the matching ring. He began the descent down the steppe, which was an easy navigation for most officers who were used to making a few leaps to reach their destination, but Faustite frequently had to stop for a breather. It helped, in this case, that the ruins below were like a town that encircled a lord's manor, as if peasants lived there and needed to be close enough to perform the work to keep the castle going. He supposed Taenite would've liked that analogy — that they're effectively the lords over these lands.
Once they reached the lower lands, an undead equivalent of a possum watched them from the crumbled doorway to one of the long-dead houses. It cocked its head at the pair, surveying them, as if deciding whether or not to speak or attack or simply run the other direction. Over its shoulder emerged a snake youma that sampled the air with a forked tongue.
Faustite was catching his breath again before he straightened, attention on the gorgeous boy with his displayed abs. "That used to be so easy."
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Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2023 8:13 am
“I’ve got that pendant if things get hairy,” Taenite reassured Faustite as he was beckoned to follow, swirling what was left in the bottle around and around. “Don’t worry about me.”
He knew Faustite’s comment about obedient youma was to that end. Taenite knew what he was getting into, going into the Rift with Faustite, but this was better than giving up and turning to purification.
It was almost normal. Talking a walk as a couple, as if the Rift were some suburban neighborhood. They even had nosey neighbors to deal with.
Needlessly, and immaturely, Taenite flipped both undead possum and snake off with his finger as he took a drink from the bottle, patiently waiting for Faustite to catch his breath again.
“I don’t want you to forget,” he said suddenly. He knew it wasn’t in response to what Faustite said. About how it used to be easier to trek down through the ruins. Taenite lifted his hands in the air in a helpless manner.
“I don’t ******** care if it’s selfish. I don’t want you to forget. Purification. Youmafication. Death. They have the same result. I don’t like that result. I don’t want that result.”
It wasn’t often that Taenite spoke completely freely or openly, so he was a little out of his element, but he figured it might be one of the last times he had a chance.
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Posted: Sun Apr 16, 2023 4:09 pm
"Wouldn't that make for a show," Faustite sighed, half-serious. Faustite wasn't sure he recalled what Taenite's youma form looked like, but he wouldn't be surprised if it was some kind of phoenix for his ostentatious outfit. What a scene that would make — fiery General out walking his phoenix youma friend, or —
Well. Youma didn't behave like that.
"Hey," Faustite hissed at Taenite. "That's Revenant and —"
And Salthiss, he wanted to say, but his thoughts immediately perished when he witnessed the undead possum flip Taenite the double bird and hiss at him. "******** off, both of you." Faustite waved them away, and while Revenant spared him a suspicious glance, the pair of youma followed orders.
He wondered how long that would last. Would youma see him and know that he wouldn't be able to give orders for much longer? Would his sway decline with his health?
Faustite looked to Tae when he spoke so suddenly. He was solemn at first, but that gave way to a smile that he tried (and failed) to withhold. Even if Taenite thought it was selfish to say such things, Faustite thought it was endearing. Delightful. Taenite never needed to say I love you to him, for he said as much in a host of different ways — like now. "Taenite," he murmured as he stopped.
Taenite was correct. Each path ended in a loss of memory, a loss of self. There were days when Faustite found it difficult to decide between them, figuring that each was as bad as the next, but in different ways. Then there were days when he was certain on one outcome over the others, and by the next day, that outcome had fallen out of favor for the next outcome, then the next. He supposed that his indecision resulted from his displeasure in all of the proffered options.
There was no perfect solution he could offer to Taenite, not then. "Let's do something unforgettable, then," he returned, and while he reached for his boy's hand, he caught himself halfway, and let his hand fall awkwardly to his side.
"Know there's this crystal tower to the right. Want to set it on fire?"
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Posted: Thu Apr 20, 2023 7:39 am
Taenite watched the way that Faustite reached for his hand and then stopped. Everything was always burning, and it was really starting to piss him off. He didn’t like being pissed off. He didn’t like having his emotions out on display. He’d been pissed off way too much recently, and that wasn’t the way he wanted Faustite’s last memories of him to be. Or him remembering Faustite seeing him pissed off.
Maturely, Taenite had stuck his tongue out at the undead possum, but the two youma were already skulking away as ordered. Doing something unforgettable was a nice thought, which brought a bitter laugh out of Taenite’s throat.
“Hell yes, I want to set it on fire,” he said with a growl, teeth bared in a feral grin. He didn’t force Faustite to lead the way. Maybe he wanted to give Faustite something of a view by putting himself in front, anyway.
The crystal tower was difficult to miss. It shimmered with Chaos and looked like it shouldn’t be messed with.
He didn’t care. And he didn’t wait for Faustite to catch his breath to tell him that it was okay. He didn’t want Faustite to have to waste more energy than he already had. So Taenite was happy to set off the first blast of magic. A funnel of fire forming and being pushed at the crystal until the whole thing looked like it was ablaze. Reckless, but at the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care.
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Posted: Tue May 02, 2023 6:44 am
Revolting as it was to be trapped by a constant exhaustion, Faustite understood its usefulness in seeing how the others were when they felt they had the option — or the imperative — to take the lead. Taenite was haughty, but he was unique in that he never needed direction. He was self-made, which meant he had a good innate sense of what to do. And even if he didn't, Faustite trusted him to come to better conclusions than himself. Taenite, Faustite thought, wouldn't have put himself inside of some sort of battery container and set himself up for an inestimably short life.
By the time he recovered enough to straighten, Taenite had already sent out a great fire whorl that stormed up the height of the crystalline tower. An amalgamation of junk from about the Rift, the tower was quick to begin to topple. First, the outermost parts drooped and broke away, one being the ledge upon which he had sat when he ultimately visited with Forgemaster. The crystals that crowned the very top of the tower fell next, each shattering into smaller fragments that spilled across the ground like glass. Then part of one side broke away and landed across a shallow groove, forming a bridge. All that remained was the core structure, now deprived of much of its extravagance.
Faustite spoke once he had caught up to his boy. "Owner had it coming." Each breath was a plume of smoke.
"Never paid much thought to these crystals before. Thought they were just storage devices — batteries for all the energy we retrieve." Which was ever useful, but perhaps they could stand to be more useful.
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Posted: Tue May 30, 2023 7:44 am
“Some batteries they are,” Taenite growled as he loosed another set of whorls. And then another. He didn’t care where the fire scorched. It was just magic after all. And he was pissed in a way that he didn’t allow himself to usually express.
He felt like a child, in many ways. A spoiled kid who had everything they ever wanted, except for the bit of love and affection they so desperately needed, and when it was offered to them, it was then tugged away on a string high above their head.
“If these crystals do nothing useful, then they might as well be sand,” he hissed, panting as he used too much of his energy sending out pointless attacks. His hands flexed, uncurling fingers that had dug into his palms. He didn’t look at Faustite. Didn’t want him to see the hopelessness in his expression as the funnels of fire spun out of control.
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2023 5:53 am
Faustite looked on gravely while Taenite whipped up volatile twisters of flame that careened toward the tower. He felt the heat as much as he witnessed it — felt it parch his skin and force it taut while he squinted at the brilliant scene.
It was true that they both had to do with fire, but Faustite never had dominion over fire the way that Taenite did. He couldn't simply will fire into existence like that, and send it off as a voracious tornado to sweep up and dispose of others. It was both terrible and useful, for Taenite's magic spared no one, not even their own. Not even Faustite, who was something like a creature of fire.
Faustite watched the tower explode in a shower of glittering crystal and hungry flame. He bent, then, and coughed smoke into the crook of his arm while the tower's remains groaned and splintered under the assault.
When he straightened, the whorls had moved on to their own targets and naught remained of the tower but a pile of crystalline rubble. While he couldn't see his boy's face, being turned away from him, Faustite instead watched Taenite's hands.
Some batteries they are, Taenite had said, and the vitriol in his words had stuck with Faustite. He walked forward, past his boy. It wasn't that he ever thought much of the crystals themselves, nor was he particularly concerned with how the Negaverse stored all their energy. As far as he was concerned, their job was to project an ambient field of energy for the youma to survive here and that was that.
But these crystals — they just sustained multiple blows from senshi magic. Magic that tired the senshi out enough that he had to pant to recover from it. That was, Faustite thought, an impressive amount of energy thrown at them.
Faustite stopped before the rubble. "Taenite," he called, and beckoned him over. Some of the crystals had changed color.
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Posted: Sun Jun 18, 2023 8:31 am
At first it wasn’t clear if Taenite heard Faustite, or if he was ignoring him. It didn’t last long. He couldn’t just brush Faustite off, even if Taenite wanted to fester in his own arguably selfish misery.
He straightened himself, forcing himself to breathe through his nose instead of being obviously exhausted from his… arguable tantrum. What else was he supposed to do, though?
Taenite approached slowly, feigning disinterest, but even that didn’t last when he saw what Faustite called his attention to.
Some of the shattered pieces of crystal were now glowing. But more than that, there was something of an aura that radiated from them. No, not aura. He wasn’t sure what to call it other than latent magic.
Since all caution had already been thrown to the wind, Taenite crouched down in front of the rubble beside Faustite and-- okay maybe not all caution gone, because he held the back of his hand out to test the temperature, and when he didn’t feel any heat, he plucked one up to examine.
The fractured crystal should have been turned into sand with the rest of the tower, but he could see where the cracks inside the stone looked like they were slowly being filled in, as if liquid was spreading inside of it. Or, strangely enough, healing itself.
But there was something more than that, and Taenite rolled the stone between his fingers and then across his palm.
He couldn’t explain it. He could feel the magic, but he couldn’t explain how he knew what it did. Maybe it was because it was his own magic, or maybe it was something more than that, because it was merged with the crystals in the Rift.
When he stood, he turned to Faustite. Crystal free palm reached for the boy’s cheek to hold him still as he leaned close to kiss him.
Not immediately burned, he dropped his hand from Faustite’s face to his shoulder to keep him from pulling away and kissed him deeper, as if to prove to himself that something with the crystal he was holding kept him from being burned.
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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2023 5:22 am
Even if Taenite floundered, Faustite would wait. He had to; waiting was the least labor-intensive thing he could do. The Rift was gracious enough to allow it, with its denizens simply looking on at him or his known companion. The ones that were several feet from Taenite's back, that used a rock outcropping to defend against any wayward flame, began their chitters and howls once more.
But Taenite approached at last, and what excitement those youma nursed had faded into disappointment. He'd seen the crystals, and he'd been more brazen with them than Faustite had expected.
Faustite knew that, even if some of Taenite's magic somehow got trapped in there, a crystal couldn't end up with more energy that was poured into it. But Taenite had volatile fire magic, and there was nothing to say that pouring that into a crystal wouldn't turn that crystal into a grenade without a pin. If they threw them into the distance, would they explode? Faustite was about to suggest the idea when Taenite suddenly had his hands all over one of them.
They must not have been hot, for Taenite handled them easily. He seemed to know something about them, though Faustite couldn't guess what that something was; perhaps it was an instinctual thing, for the crystal seemed to hold onto the magic, which was the root of Taenite's being. Faustite was going to question it —
But that immediately became last priority when his mouth was suddenly full of Boy. This was, of course, a delight, and one he wanted to respond to immediately, despite the knowledge that he was On Fire and Taenite should be in a good deal of pain right now. That he wasn't was its own mystery that bore examining — later.
For now, he was happy to respond to his boy's kiss for as long as Taenite would have it. Threw his arms around the boy, too, happy to feel the muscles that Metallia so brazenly highlighted with his outfit. For the moment, there was no Rift, or existential crisis, or looming slow death awaiting him. There was only Taenite, and he was happy with that.
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2023 7:16 am
Taenite wasn’t sure how long it was until he finally broke away for air. There was a large part of him that didn’t care. He didn’t like feeling this way, like things were hopeless. Things shouldn’t be hopeless. What was the point of having money if he couldn’t find a way to use it to fix things? Even having magic wasn’t enough. He clearly wasn’t strong enough to do enough.
Strong enough to break apart this crystal into something that seemed to retain some magic, though. Useful magic. And cruel, since it gave him a chance for closeness while leaving him with the knowledge that it probably wouldn’t matter soon.
Still, when he pulled back he looked Faustite over. He kept his hand on his shoulder, then down his arm until he could take hold of his hand, lacing fingers together. He probably should give Faustite a chance to let him know if he didn’t want to be touched or have his hand held or whatever, but Taenite didn’t care. Faustite could try to pull away if he wanted.
Taenite wasn’t sure if he’d let him.
He didn’t know how long the magic in the crystal would last, but it was something to experiment with. So he leaned back down to snatch up the other glowing pieces and rolled them around in his palm while still holding Faustite’s hand with his other.
“I’m tired,” he admitted, although there was clear annoyance in his voice. At the whole situation, of course. “Let’s get out of here and find bed to sleep or something.” He didn’t sound like he was saying it as a request.
Before any youma tried getting close to see what was going on. He didn't exactly have any of his magic left to fend them off, and Faustite wasn't in the best shape.
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2023 4:40 pm
He would've leaned against Taenite forever, given the chance. He would've let the boy carry him home. What did it matter to the youma if they knew his aura was that of a General's? They would still have to begrudgingly honor his rank, no matter who did the walking.
But Taenite was smart to break away, for whatever was in the crystal that allowed them to make contact without the cincher might not last forever. His instinct gave him that much insight into its usefulness, but he supposed the only teacher for how long it lasted would be the burnt hand after all. Of course, Faustite was delighted to hold onto that hand for as long as it was hale, and if that lasted forever? Then forever it shall be.
Faustite would've replied with I know if he wasn't exhausted himself. Instead, all he could do is nod to the request. They'd spent long enough out in the Rift, looking for something that could do to fix this. He wouldn't say that they were leaving empty-handed, for the crystal was a promising start, but it was something better looked into after they had a few hours to recover their energy. Just in case, Faustite stooped to pick up a crystal of his own and dismissed it to subspace for later inspection.
Just watching Taenite exhaust himself was itself exhausting. With a tug on his boy's hand, he began the trek back, though he abhorred the thought of climbing back up the steppe to reach the bottom of the Citadel.
"Come to my place after," he urged on the way. It was closer. It didn't require teleporting. It had a bed, but it might not be one that fit Taenite's standards. "Sheets aren't thousand-count, but there's pillows." Of all kinds. Of the Albite persuasion, too. He was sure Taenite could stand it for a short nap.
They'd feel better after, both of them. They would need it, too, after a trying jaunt like this one. Faustite looked grimly toward the Citadel as they began the slow ascent through the ruined city, with nothing but dubious hope in their hands.
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