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 Posted: Wed Apr 12, 2023 4:54 am
Faustite wanted to lay in bed all day, as he had done the previous day, and the day before that. But, he told himself, and he didn't necessarily know if it was true, if he kept lying in bed all day, then there would come a day where he wouldn't wake up. The youma in him would do away with the last of his energy, and that would be that. No more Faustite. No more boys. No more Negaverse.
He had to keep going outside if he wanted to stay alive, as contradictory as that seemed at the outset. To manage that, he needed four cups of tea that day.
Once he reached the city, his head spun and his four cups of tea wanted to leave his body. He stood atop the roof of an old greasy spoon, one of the hole-in-the-wall joints that Waru often visited for messy soups and dips that he could lick off his fingers. A place where the owner, a grizzled old woman who must have raised an army of kids for how she both took a liking to Waru and took none of his s**t, had known his boy on a first-name basis and often paired hugs with slapping a wooden spoon against the back of his hand.
As he unzipped and watered the corner of a concrete patch with his four cups of tea, Faustite told himself to keep an open mind. Few among the White Moon were invested in him, numbering perhaps one, maybe one half if he thought too hard about their conversations, so it was in his own best interest that he try to fit together a salvageable new life. He knew Waru liked the place beneath his feet. He knew he would have to work as a fully human, adult entity. Maybe, then, he could work there. Maybe he could see his boy's smiling face on a routine schedule, every week or twice a week. They could smile at each other from across the way. He could serve Waru a little extra.
Sighing, Faustite zipped up and spat into the black mess he left behind. He made it halfway across the rooftop before he sat on the parapet, feeling dizzy, feeling the exhaustion from which the tea hadn't spared him. He didn't want this, but he had to want it.
From somewhere below him, he heard a woman shout.seiana_zi backdated to like, late march ish?
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Posted: Wed Apr 12, 2023 8:11 am
Patrols kept him connected to the reality of his life. Having a new acting role had a way of sucking up quite a bit of his attention. He had to be present for Faustite, at least, which had felt like a strange and foreign negotiation with himself, but if he wanted to get out, Encke had to help facilitate that however he could. He had to be present for his comet, at least, knowing that he needed to keep tending to it and make sure it continued to thrive. He needed to be present for his family; times were surprisingly uncertain, especially when it came to powered life, and-- And sometimes it felt like all of it was falling to the wayside under a cascade of everything at once. Encke needed to clear his head and recenter himself for a moment, and that was why he opted to try for his earlier days. Just a simple patrol for clearing his head, a quick run with the breeze running through his hair to help him blank out the noises in his mind. And sometimes, when he was younger, those patrols would have been quiet. They would have been a chance to get the noise out, blank out the screaming, and then head to his homeworld or back to the Bells' house with a more level mind. Like sometimes then and now, though, a scream took him out of it, and the scream was not his own as he scratched at nonexistent walls. Encke turned their foot on a pivot and ran for where it was coming from.
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Apr 22, 2023 6:04 am
"What the sick hell is that?!" The old woman spat as the last stragglers at closing time had suddenly split from the establishment. A count of three individuals fled the building without looking back. The one who shouted, the owner of the establishment, was the only one to stay behind.
She wielded a metal ladle in one hand. She grimaced as she backed out of the building, however slowly, with her eyes on something inside. Were it a rat, or a cat, or even a hungry child, she would know precisely how to resolve the problem. Many of these could either be fed or chased off with a rolling pin. But a scorpion the size of her torso that chased her down? She'd never encountered anything like that. Was Destiny City turning into goddamn Australia?
It was the last thought she had before she raised her ladle, ready to strike, and the oversized insect bowled her over with preternatural speed. She'd hardly felt the breath leave her lungs when its stinger gored her arm. Blood gushed from the wound, though she could not rightly articulate her pain.
In fact, she could not move at all.
Faustite had heard the commotion, watched the patrons leave, felt the youma. Felt the senshi, too, and assumed he would be held responsible for it all by proximity alone, which rendered him even more disinclined to care. Let the youma drain. Let the old woman shout her racket about it. She'd survive, he hoped, for he didn't have the energy to do something about it.
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Posted: Sat Apr 22, 2023 1:08 pm
The people fleeing ran right by him, which gave him a solid direction to head in. He felt the youma, anyway, and heard her shouting, which made him redouble his speed even still to get a better look at what had most of the patrons of this restaurant running. She was holding a ladle. Or had been, as the case may have been, as the youma immediately moved to end the threat. He wasn't able to get there quite fast enough to stop the monster from doing monstrous things to her arm, but at least she still had her arm. It wasn't going for her starseed or for a snack quite yet. "'ey!" Mission one, get the youma off her. Mission two, maybe figure out where that chaos aura was coming from. It definitely wasn't the youma. Maybe it was one of those sick assholes who sent these out to do their dirty work while they just sat and lounged and waited for the carnage below. First things first. He summoned his basic magic, aiming it directly for the youma. It was nice he was able, now, to not have some of his magic touch his allies or those he wanted to protect-- Strickenized Sailor Scout Attack: "Ionization!" Encke points his left pointer finger forward at his adversary. Suddenly, the air around the adversary sounds like it is crackling, and before long, small purple-blue sparks begin to hit their body, causing the sensation of small shocks all over them. Effectively, the air around them has become conductive and ionized, like plasmas. Players can also choose to keep lasting damage after the duration ends, such as soreness or residual shocks. (Uses: Thrice per battle. Duration: 30 seconds Range: 10ft radius around the target. This attack will hit other adversaries in the radius, but not allies.)
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2023 6:05 pm
He didn't hear any magic being cast in the area. Certainly, no one had shouted the name of their spells the way they used to when Faustite was a Lieutenant. Instead, he saw the effects of the magic dance into the air with a vibrant purple hue that was both unmistakeable and perplexing. It was Encke, then. He could practically smell the singed clothing and burnt flesh from where he sat.
The youma's aura persisted thereafter, somehow. "******** sake," Faustite muttered quietly at the sky. With more effort than he wanted to muster, he hoisted himself up and began to drop down to street level.
He could hear the screaming. Not the old woman's, though she was yelling curses, but the youma's. It was a terribly high-pitched thing, more akin to rubbing together a massive cricket's legs than anything vocalized through a windpipe. Once Faustite caught a glimpse of it — a limping, smoking wreck of a scorpion that was missing some of its legs — he felt a margin guilty for taking the extra time to sit on his a** rather than stick up for the poor creature. Now it was being cursed out by some b***h with a soup ladle while she held her arm, and Encke got off a shot at it.
There was Encke, as well. "Hold on," Faustite ordered him breathlessly, while leaning against the wall of a crumbling building. "Don't ******** it up anymore." Not that Encke could or would help himself, he imagined.
"You. Here." Faustite pointed to the spot next to him, and with a few screeched protests, the scorpion youma hesitantly about-faced to join Faustite at his side.
Not that the old woman would have any part of these goings-on, now that she witnessed some kid on fire. Her first instinct was to help, but he didn't appear to be worried about being on fire, and then he called that overgrown piece of bug meat like it was a pet! Having had enough of the day's antics, she threw her arms up in the air as she headed inside to address her wounds.seiana_zi so sorry that i missed this heart
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