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 Posted: Sat May 27, 2023 4:43 pm
Faustite didn't expect her to be here, but part of him wanted Lysithea to be in that beautiful, untouched clearing where they all tried for a purification so many weeks ago. Under the summer moonlight, the grasses swayed in shimmering sheets and the trees rustled their heavy boughs, wind soughing through and sighing for the mix of rage and resentment that made home in his heart. Here, there was no Lysithea. No Princess with a blinding aura and every magnanimous expectation to deliver him from burning to death.
As he stood in the center of that field, waiting, he found there was nothing. not a scratch on the manicured area that proved the existence of a battle some weeks ago. No scorch marks, no cuts in the ground or on the trunks, no evidence left behind of all the senshi magic bandied about.
It was like a dream he convinced himself had happened. Some feverish flight of fancy bequeathed to him by his boiling mind while he waited for fire to consume him. Maybe that was how it happened — maybe he baked from the inside out for a month, trapped in his own pain-fueled insanities until the Negaverse gathered enough energy for his promotion. Maybe he imagined Encke's stilted compassion, Lysithea's unlimited grace, and Nectaris's begrudging involvement. Maybe the others — his team, Aquamarine, Prehnite, and Jet — were all instrumental for breaking him out of that feverish hell. That would all explain why this clearing looked like it had no memory of what transpired.
It left him feeling empty. Dejected. Tired.
But there was little time to simmer in it. His disappointments would be carefully corralled and pushed away from his circumstances, in which a new, overexposed aura of an Eternal's strength bloomed nearby. It could have been Lysithea, he knew, much as it could have been Ida or Cybele or Encke or many others, but he only knew of one that haunted this park so frequently. It was the same one that he couldn't recall seeing in that mess of signatures that night, but may well have been there.
As Faustite approached the bench where that one normally sat, he reminded himself that he was back in Information now. He had every reason to give this boy an uncomfortable, unforgettable chat.noir songbird a mediocre start is still a start!
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Posted: Thu Jun 01, 2023 7:13 pm
There was a General nearby.
Kerberos sighed. Everyone who came to his bench deserved kindness, deserved, a positive welcome, and probably needed Kerberos to be smiling and welcoming, not hunched over and exhausted.
He was so close to where it had happened. Sometimes, the whole park felt haunted.
The weight of failure had hung heavy on his shoulders, and when he felt someone nearby, he had to take a moment to sag, and let it weigh him down, before he straightened and plastered a smile on his face.
The smile fell when he saw who it was, replaced with a look of shock.
"Faustite?"
He was alive. Here. Or this was some sort of trick, Kerberos wasn't sure. He still felt like a General, not a youma--in defiance of what should have been true. Had they all been wrong, about what was happening? Had Faustite lied? (That seemed unlikely; he had seemed so ill, and so reluctant to discuss it.)
(Or was this something much more frightening?)
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2023 8:09 am
Faustite stopped once he laid eyes on the boy who occupied the bench. It was exactly the boy he had come to expect, the same boy he had run into before who occupied this bench where once another sat. He had to admit, there was a margin of comfort in the predictability of it.
"Kerberos," Faustite returned resolutely. "Surprised you haven't moved."
He should have. It was likely that their stunt had attracted due attention from both the White Moon and the Negaverse to this very spot, watching in case someone tried to hold another purification here, as they called it. It could just as well have been a hunting ground for grievers, in the event that Lysithea came by again.
Faustite didn't wait for Kerberos to pick his jaw up off his lap. He approached, but he preferred standing by the lamp to seating himself on the bench.
"Seen a ghost, have you?"
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Posted: Fri Jun 23, 2023 4:16 am
Kerberos wanted to be funny. To laugh off the comment about how he hadn't moved, make some blithe little remark about how it would take more than one disaster to make him stop showing up here. But he couldn't.
He very slowly dropped back onto his bench, and nodded. He ha,d indeed, seen a ghost. Or he was a fool--they were all fools.
"You were youmafying. How are you here." He paused, briefly. Frowned. "It is you, isn't it? Not some fun, exciting new Negaverse trick? Because if it's the second thing, please just spring the trap already, sitting around and waiting sounds tedious."
Ah, there it was, the ability to run his mouth. Good to have that back.
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Posted: Fri Jun 23, 2023 4:55 am
"It's no trick." And there was no ambush, though he supposed he could spring an ambush on anyone, at any time, with the majority of the Negaverse to answer his call. He smiled sardonic as his attention reached the floor, though it was gone by the time he looked up again.
"Was burning to death. Or, it felt like I was." Faustite reached for the seam in the shoulder of his dress shirt and tested it. He dug a nail between the stitches and tore it away, pushing the severed sleeve down to his wrist where it bunched together. Rather than a blackened hand that faded to pale just above the wrist, the black had chased up his arm to a spot high on his bicep, where it abruptly tucked under burn-scarred, bone-white flesh. At a closer glance, it was obvious that Faustite lost perceptible layers of skin and meat to a slow immolation. "That's not going away," he explained, pointing at the divide between human and youma.
Weeks had passed before the pain began to ebb. Even now, there were still shocks of it if he turned his arm a specific way, or if he was so bored that he began to feel his own body.
"Still me enough to know you've got a bunch of twats for comrades. What the ******** was that stand-off between the Court and Encke? ******** wonder we haven't killed all of you yet."He sighed, a hand curling against his hip.
"Turned out the Negaverse had more bullshit planned for me. Gave me enough energy to get my youma side to ******** off."
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Posted: Sat Jun 24, 2023 12:10 am
"You were," Kerberos confirmed, softly. "I....tried to help. Passed you energy. Not sure if it made it better or worse. Makes sense that you don't remember, though." If Faustite had been in that much pain, and the scars sure seemed as if they'd come from quite a lot of it, it made sense that his surroundings hadn't exactly been the thing he was paying the most attention to.
"I assume the Negaverse has done everything they could," he said, because it made sense. Generally, they preferred their people alive, rather than dead. And,b besides, Faustite was rather unlike Kerberos in that at least he was a generally valued asset. After Avalon, Kerberos hadn't been a valued anything.
"I missed that part," he said, deadpan. "Was keeping watch nearby, didn't get in close until s**t started to go sideways. Not surprised to hear it, though. Freedom begets bullshit." He smiled, wryly. "Sucks that it got in the way of doing the one thing we're all supposed to be good at, though. You know, the helping people thing."
He shook his head, a little. "Whatever it took, whatever it means--I'm glad you're alive, Faustite."
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Posted: Thu Jul 13, 2023 6:47 pm
Faustite nodded slightly. "I remember." It was helpful at the time, but his youma half was ever a hungry thing. Always devouring, that flame. Always needing more fuel.
"But it was a bottle of water when I needed a lake."
It wasn't much of a comparison, but it had to suffice. Better than going into detail.
Faustite smiled at him wryly, leaning his weight into one hip. "Some freedom it is. Free to ******** over other people as you see fit. Don't know why the White Moon touts it. Don't know what's valuable in that." So many of the choices available to the White Moon, owing to their 'freedom' amounted to bad choices. The choice to go home and never power up again was one that was, more or less, available to the Negaverse as well, but it did nothing positive for either faction. Freedom to go against others of the same side, freedom to lay down arms and run away, freedom to sell information to the other side — what good were these choices? And why should they be held in such high regard for the simple fact that they were choices? The thought alone irked him.
That this ragtag band of idiots was so 'free' and yet presently unconquered and destroyed by the Negaverse chafed him even worse, but now wasn't the time to dwell so terribly on it.
"Surprised you're glad," he said, finally giving in to his pacing habit. "Means more people might die. More energy gets taken. Hell of a thing to be glad for, isn't it?"
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2023 1:43 am
Ah. Kerberos nodded--it made sense. Faustite's body must have been burning through energy at an absurd rate, and he'd been so hot to the touch--a wildfire raging out of control.
And even with so much to give, Kerberos had limits. If he'd tried, more--perhaps he would have simply withered himself away, and it still wouldn't have been enough.
"Freedom to make our own choices, without the weight of someone ordering us around. But, yes, freedom to be ******** idiots, as well." Whatever had happened--Kerberos had no idea. He'd arrived too late to see whatever hostility Faustite had witnessed. But perhaps he would ask Encke, next time they ran into each other--get his perspective on what had happened so he had a more balanced idea of what exactly had gone wrong.
The criticism did make him smile, even if it was a little wry and sardonic.
"Hell of a thing, yes," he acknowledged, "but I'd rather have you alive. The list of people I actively want dead is...well, it's short." One person, really. And Kerberos would bet Faustite could guess who. "You're a unique person, Faustite, and I find your perspectives interesting. Plus, I don't enjoy weighing lives like that. Leads down paths I'm not entirely willing to step onto."
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2023 8:34 am
Had he been listening, Faustite might have agreed with Kerberos about his sensible, disillusioned view of his White Moon compatriots. Faustite himself thought they were inestimably terrible at waging war, only ever managing to stay alive thanks to the same accidental guerrilla tactics seen in the war for American independence. A divided force with no central core was one uniquely difficult to dispose of, which the Negaverse had long known in its years of operation. However, all of that would have required that Faustite listen. For all he was aware, Kerberos could have been telling him about his underwear drawer.
Faustite's attention was on the fact that Kerberos wasn't taking back his gladness for Faustite surviving as, well, himself.
Even if he wanted to, even if he trained tirelessly in obtaining the most indefatigable poker face that the world has seen, Faustite would be woefully unable to hide his smug delight for learning that A Boy (specifically, Kerberos) was glad to have him alive and hale. Granted, this boy was White Moon scum, but as much as he understood that, he couldn't override that blissful, lilting feeling inside his grate.
But he wasn't about to admit any of that to Kerberos, no. He would sooner go to his grave Encke's hand than admit to it.
"So what's that mean?" He prompted. Then, to clarify upon belatedly realizing that it could've been taken to refer to paths of weighing lives, "You being glad I'm alive." Surely that had to imply that something was owed to him for being so unique and interesting.noir songbird i'm not apologizing for this dumpster fire
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Posted: Wed Aug 02, 2023 1:28 am
Kerberos was not exactly sure what to make of the expression on Faustite's face, but at least it didn't seem hostile. Generally, smug glee like that meant some kind of victory, though Kerberos wasn't sure which one he'd handed over--since Faustite did not seem particularly invested in his assessment of his comrades.
Or, at least,t hat was not what Faustite followed up on.
...Well. Kerberos supposed it might make sense that Faustite enjoyed positive attention, whatever form it came in. Still, Kerberos smiled, wryly.
"That I like you," Kerberos admitted. "And I'd like to see you more often. If it's not too dangerous for someone in your position to chitchat with a traitor, anyway." And that maybe, one day, as foolish as it was, he might invite Faustite to see his world. Nowhere near the First Flower, or anywhere particularly vital, but there was nothing he could harm in the gardens but a few flower bushes that would grow back anyway.
Maybe Faustite would never leave the Negaverse. Maybe they'd lost their one chance. But Kerberos still intended to be decent to him.Strickenized never apologize. the dumpster fire is what we're here for
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Posted: Sat Aug 05, 2023 10:16 am
The boy liked him. The boy wanted to see him. He never tired of the pure gratification that came from admissions like that. It was a victory as pure as the best fought battle, where they stood victorious without losing a single comrade.
But, naturally there were complications with this particular boy. This boy used to be a part of the Negaverse. Coupled with the fact that he was transcended, this boy made himself into a mark worth silencing at the earliest opportunity. Faustite was aware that, if he knew how to use the strangely shaped blade bequeathed to him, it would only take a single skillful swipe to be unburdened by everything Kerberos stood for. But Faustite lacked the training for that, and there may yet be some useful morsels with which Kerberos would be willing to part. That might justify his existence — at least a while longer.
"Dangerous unless I've something to show for it." Kerberos would know that as well as he, since the boy remembered his time in the Negaverse. "The danger I'm in depends on with what you're willing to part." He assumed names were off the table, though he would've liked to know the new civilian identities for the few who left his team. Could've tracked Lysithea down, too, and put an end to another turncoat.
"But it takes time to build up a fruitful exchange, doesn't it?" He asked coyly.
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Posted: Wed Aug 09, 2023 12:21 am
Kerberos's expression turned thoughtful. IT was true, perhaps, that if he wanted to continue seeing Faustite, some use would have to come of it. And perhaps...this was a way to ensure that he was able to continue his mission in relative safety. "Relative," of course, because there was no actual safety as a traitor tot he Negaverse. Any arrangement he made with Faustite might not matter to someone else.
But it was a step. A bargain, perhaps. And an opportunity. If he was clever enough about what he did and didn't reveal--and if he told some outright lies, probably--this could, in the end, be beneficial.
Not a peasant way to think. And he didn't want to manipulate Faustite, or lead him on, not when Faustite often seemed so painfully earnest and starved for positive attention. But if Faustite wanted to bargain, a bargain it could be.
So his expression slid back to charming smirk.
"I think we might be able to work something out," he agreed. "There are limits to what I can tell you." Which, surely, Faustite knew. "But let me put it this way: ask the right questions, and I could part with some potentially helpful answers."
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Posted: Thu Aug 10, 2023 2:22 pm
"There will always be limits," Faustite concurred, feeling a little warm under the collar for the wink. He was cute, of course, and Faustite would have sorely preferred to put him back in the Negaverse, but transcendence proved a distinct limitation to that. Perhaps it was something he could begin looking into while Kerberos was friendly with him; perhaps that was the reason they could not pry answers out of Ganymede when they had her. However transcendence comes about, maybe it takes trust to break it.
They would have time for that. And they would have some time to while away without the pretexts assigned by their respective factions, though that time would be less than what Faustite expected to spend on gleaning information. As far as he was aware, Kerberos was relatively secure out here in the woods, but if he remembered Schörl — and if he knew Quartz — then perhaps he was likewise familiar with the protection that could be guaranteed him and his bench. It might prove better for the Negaverse, as well, if agents and Negaverse senshi were forbidden from coming within a certain distance of him. There would be fewer opportunities to sow seeds of dissent, if he was indeed one of the culprits doing it.
"See what I can prepare for next time, then." For, he hoped, there would be a next time.
He supposed he should write off his attempt to locate Lysithea as a failure. She didn't linger; she wasn't around. He wouldn't consider chatting with Kerberos a loss, of course, but it wasn't the goal he had set out to accomplish. Any failure, no matter how implicated or responsible he was for it, was a terrible disappointment in itself. He would have to stew in it for a time before returning.
"Will be around," he said in parting, and shortly thereafter vanished.
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