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Posted: Wed Apr 12, 2023 5:05 am
If Faustite didn't have an appointment with Jet, he would be lying in bed all day. He would still be curled up in the indentation that one of his husbands left behind, where the sheets were cooler than on Faustite's side. Most of his boys said nothing against it, for most of them understood that he was hemorrhaging energy. That he needed all the small comforts he could find as he wound his way through all these disservices to himself.
With an hour until the meeting, he told himself to get up. Waru had left behind one of his skillets in the fridge, and Faustite could have it, but only if he got himself out of bed. Only if he made the effort to fix his uniform and cover the splits in his skin and look something near presentable. There were goalposts to meet in the name of good food, after all.
He reached the point where he grasped the bar lining their recessed bed, as he felt the blood drain from his arm nigh immediately. Then he hoisted himself up past the gap, and that was as far as he had gotten before he fainted straight away.
Faustite roused again. Groaned into the small spattering of black from a popped blister. When he summoned his tablet, it was all he could do to roll onto his side and type a message to Jet, letter by letter, with his off hand.
Having trouble getting out of bed. Might need you to summon.
guine backdated to sometime before the ambush meeting!
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Posted: Tue Apr 18, 2023 2:22 pm
Faustite losing energy wasn’t a new thing. Ever since returning from the most recent mission into the Scar, he’d been doing worse and worse. That was what happened when someone strapped themselves up as an energy source, Jet supposed. Or it could be something completely different. Like the youma draining all his energy and trying to take over.
Or both. Or neither.
Jet saw the message, of course. He grimaced, but took Faustite’s words as a request rather than an observation.
“Think we should probably get you to the infirmary instead,” Jet frowned when he summoned Faustite as request-observed to his office, already pulling out a spare starseed he had in his subspace to hand to the General that looked like he was literally falling apart at the seams.
Jet decided not to point out that Faustite looked like s**t. He was probably acutely aware of his appearance. Still, Jet drew as close to the fire General as he could without risking being burned, holding out the starseed to him.
“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” he observed out loud, although that probably wasn’t necessary either. He braced himself for a snap in return, sighing ahead of it because sometimes thinking out loud was better than not saying anything. Other times, not so much. But then if he didn’t, would Faustite think he didn’t care or didn’t notice?
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Posted: Thu Apr 27, 2023 9:04 am
Faustite felt like hell, but he hoped he didn't look it. He hoped that he could conceal that fact for himself a margin longer, that the rest of the Negaverse would not look at him as a failure, or a weakness, or that he was unfit for duty. But once his head stopped spinning upon being summoned and he was able to look at Jet without his eyes chasing the General-King across the room, and Faustite saw the starseed in his hand, he decided he must've looked like hell, too. The youth groaned.
The infirmary sounded like a death sentence. If he walked in there, would they ever let him leave? It wasn't like anyone had found a way to fix what was wrong with him; it wasn't like he was recovering, either. Sighing through his nose, Faustite accepted the starseed.
"No kick to them anymore," he observed before he put the soul in his mouth and bit down. He waited, counting the seconds as he chewed. "Nothing." As if that needed confirmation.
But they had allowed him some semblance of feeling normal, and for that, Faustite was glad for receiving one. He nodded his thanks to his superior.
"Like Albite's English," he confirmed with a weary sigh when Jet had (more or less) asked. "Nothing's worked. Been doing anything that sounded promising. No luck." Which meant they were stuck with their last plan — their worst plan — lest some radical new idea reveal itself in Faustite's last hour.
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Posted: Tue May 30, 2023 7:35 am
There was a quiet, but almost humorless laugh when Faustite compared the starseeds to Albite’s English. Jet had never had an issue with the other man, but he knew his antics and general personality frustrated many. Some in a more endearing way than others.
But the conversation grew serious again, and Jet frowned as he leaned back against the desk, waiting to see if Faustite needed any other assistance.
“There’s the matter of what you want to do with your team if you become unfit for duty.”
Jet had never enjoyed smalltalk. Getting to the point of things was easier for him to handle than chatting about the weather or what was for dinner. He had to be in the mood for it, and this meeting didn’t set the mood.
“And everything else. A will, if you have one. We’re still looking for solutions, of course. This isn’t me saying I or anyone else has given up, but it’s good to have things prepared.”
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2023 6:23 am
"Team's been sorted out." But that was an agreement lacking documentation, so it was better expressed to a General-King regardless. "Albite and Jadarite will be taking over as co-leads. Jadarite handles tactics and training, Albite handles support." It played to their strengths, and Faustite thought they could've made a team on their own. But they chose his team, and continued to stay despite the fact that their careers could flourish elsewhere. While he was thankful for their help, he wondered if his death would give them the push they needed to shine in the Negaverse.
"Not much else to will to others. Books and office s**t I can sort out on my own." Jet didn't need to hear any of that; hardly any of it pertained to the Negaverse as an organization, anyway.
Faustite fell silent for a moment as he stared at his hands. Then he spoke quietly, as if the walls were listening or their communicators could tap into the conversation if they spoke loudly enough.
"Know this is preparedness. That we're all still looking for answers. But where I'm at…" Faustite shook his head. "Wonder if we should stop looking."
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Posted: Sun Jun 18, 2023 8:41 am
Jet was quiet as he listened to everything Faustite went over, nodding to show that he understood. Everything was being set up just in case, but he frowned when Faustite spoke softer.
“Are you giving up?” he asked, his voice curious, not accusatory.
“I don’t think you are,” he continued after a moment. “No one else is either,” he reiterated and leaned more heavily against his desk, arms crossed casually over his chest.
“You’re invaluable to the Negaverse, proven time and time again. You’ve survived more than most. Overcome impossible odds. Fought addictions, lead missions, formed a large team willing to follow you. I can’t even think of what’s being prepared as anything more than temporary. Even if you lost memories, even if you were fully youmafied, we’re not going to give up,” he shrugged, feeling a little awkward about throwing various compliments at Faustite, but Jet wasn’t known to lie. Not when it came to those in the Negaverse, at least.
He would just ignore the way his ears turned a bit red, hoping the curls of his hair would cover it.
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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2023 4:49 am
He'd recognize that look on any boy. It was enough to brighten him up a little, to get him shifting from one tired position to another. Too bad Jet was the monogamous sort.
Faustite also didn't know what to do with compliments. Of course, thanks was likely the response he should give, but Faustite didn't know if he should go above and beyond since Jet essentially threw his resume (with embellishments) back at him. He felt his own awkwardness as he floundered for words, instead focusing on Jet's ears.
They were cute ears. Jet deserved to know that, but maybe not right now.
"You sound like Albite," he blurted instead.
He didn't leave much time to respond before he forcefully reoriented the subject. "Not giving up yet. Just struggling with these options. Sometimes I'd rather just be a youma." Which would be to many people's detriment, he knew. Thus this… other plan. Faustite snorted, pushing it out of his mind.
"Thanks, Jet. For everything." It was meant well, for he knew that even this strange and traitorous plan should only have been considered a last resort.
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Posted: Wed Jun 21, 2023 7:52 am
He snorted softly in amusement when compared to Albite, or at least how he sounded. He’d always liked Albite, so it wasn’t horrible to be compared to him. He’d take it as a compliment. Besides, didn’t Faustite and Albite get married?
Being a youma would probably be a bit easier if people actually treated them with more respect than deciding they were just pawns of the Negaverse. It still bothered Jet how quickly so many agents were eager to try and kill Galvorn instead of trying to de-escalate. Maybe it was a lost cause to begin with, but they didn’t know until they tried.
Well, they didn’t have a chance. He hoped that wherever the General-now-youma was, he was finding at least some peace.
Two Generals being youmafied wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t the end of the world, and wasn’t going to be the end of anyone trying to help.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he huffed, but nodded to acknowledge the words of gratitude. “We’ve got a long way to go. Come on, I’ll help you to your office if you’d like.” Since he seemed averse to the infirmary.
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