The Fireflies (6) : In the warm summer nights, little glowing lights begin to bob and dart through the city. Fireflies are mating, so this isn't uncommon in itself; in the past few days you've probably seen hundreds of fireflies. What makes these lights so unique is that they seem to change color; you might see a blue one, a green one, a red one. They flicker randomly, and something just seems off with them. If you come into contact with one, you will find yourself with a strange electric jolt. They cannot be caught, and will flicker away if you pursue too aggressively. This isn’t the first time they’ve appeared in Destiny City, but no one’s been able to tell where they came from or where they’re going. No matter how quickly you chase them, they always seem to disappear before you can find any answers.
It was a familiar scene, for Alkmene. He'd come upon it entirely by accident, wandering into this lovely little picnic area, and there they'd been--the rainbow fireflies he and Eion had seen last year, lighting up the field. they were dangerous, he knew--he saw some poor girl filming a TikTok or something jump back when one brushed against her--and so he carefully kept his distance, dropping down to sit on a picnic table bench, back leaned against the table itself.
He and Eion, he realized, hadn't really....had a chance to talk, one on one, since Eion's promotion. There had been so many moving parts, so many things to consider.
So many feelings that Alkmene had tied into a nice, neat box, with a pretty little bow, never to be examined again. The crushing, all-consuming grief he'd felt in the moments he thought he'd lost Faustite. The anger, that wanted to lash out in every direction, to bite and bite and bite and hate, metaphorically and perhaps literally if he'd been pushed far enough.
It would be nice, perhaps, to get to sit with Faustite and talk. So he produced his communicator, typed up a message.
Quote:
Rainbow fireflies back in the park. Wanna come see?
It sounded so stupid. Self-consciously, he rubbed at the tattoo on his arm. Did Faustite even have time for that kind of s**t, now that he was a General-King? Were quiet almost-dates off the menu these days?
Ugh. Stupid. He never got this tied up in knots about this kind of thing, unless it was with Faustite.
He hit send, and waited.
strickenized
if this was on ao3 it would have the parenthetical (like we're gonna die young) in the title. thought u should know.
Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2023 10:04 am
Now that Faustite was promoted, only the Queen could yell at him. Since his latest near-death experience, Faustite had decided to take advantage of the training period and spend more time away from work, to divert more of however long he had left to the boys that agreed to spend their lives with him. When Faustite received Alkmene's message, he wrote instructions for himself for picking up where he left off, and set the rest of his workday aside.
He knew he would have to take Headache, unfortunately. The youma so loved to terrorize any spellbound youths that wanted to play with the fireflies, and no one really noticed an uptick in bright orange glows when the whole lot of them flashed from anywhere between chartreuse, fuchsia, and indigo. He beckoned silently for the creature, which took up as a layer of bugs atop the single pauldron to his new uniform.
"Don't be a b***h," he warned it, then amended the statement with a simple "To Alkmene." Then he vanished, leaving his office full of ostentatious furniture to languish in solitude.
The park greeted him with a gentle breeze and a blanket of darkness that reminded him he would be standing out as a purveyor of light. Deciding that was less important to him than the meeting in the park, Faustite strode for the cover of the park's denser, towering trees. Fewer fireflies had meandered to this area, mainly the fireflies that weren't interested in shocking people, which made for a safer time of it. He brushed the layer of fireflies off his own shoulder as he passed through underbrush, abandoning Headache to its own twisted sense of entertainment.
Finding Alkmene required a margin more work, for an Eternal's aura spanned far enough that he truly had to hunt for his boy. There were times when he thought he grew close, aught a sliver of green between the trees, but found a stranger instead of a precious boy. Two starseeds later, however, he found precisely the boy he was looking for.
And he found a most excellent view of the rainbow fireflies that lit up the night. Approaching from behind, he donned his cincher, then ran a hand down the back of Alkmene's bicep as he moved to join him.
There was a warm hand on his bicep, and Alkmene smiled. In a moment, all the anxiety knots he'd tied himself up in disappeared, because even if he'd been stupid, or awkward, or whatever, Faustite was here, and wearing his cincher, and they could touch. And, honestly, that was what he cared about.
Without his notice, a bouquet of blackberry blossoms burst into bloom around his buns.
"Hey," he said, and he shifted, reaching out to catch the front of Faustite's uniform to tug him down for a quick kiss hello. "Glad you could make it."
Glad that you're alive TO make it, he thought, but kept to himself. There was no need to be grim or morbid or otherwise generally ridiculous about this situation. Not when things were...good. Nice.
"How's the promotion treating you so far? It looks good on you," he complimented, idly. At the bank, Faustite had taken command effectively and breathlessly. Had nearly managed to kill Cybele, would have if she hadn't popped Princess wings, and that was nobody's fault. Who even knew how that s**t worked on the other side. Maybe if you had enough wishes and fairy dust, you got to get sparkly angel wings.
Gross. Alkmene would rather be recognized for effort put in, work done, missions led and coordinated.
Strickenized
Posted: Fri Jun 23, 2023 4:47 am
He was happy to lean down for the kiss, ot brush a knuckle gentle against Alkmene's jawline while they gave each other a silent greeting. As he sat, he saw the brambles bloom on top of Alkmene's head and couldn't help a chuckle.
Magic was a mischievous thing. It ever amazed him how well-connected a senshi was to their sphere of influence, how it became them as much as they embodied it. It was in Albite's lust to keep all things equal, just as it was snapping at the ready and coiling down his arm when Albite was in a mood. And here, with Alkmene, it was unabashedly betraying the boy's feelings by blooming on top of his head. Being part youma wasn't anything like that, and at times like these, he was glad they were so different. If flame gave away his thoughts or moods, he would have to smother it.
"Course I made it." Faustite returned as he settled in. What went unsaid was that he came because Alkmene asked him to come, and even if he were in the middle of battle, he would have teleported straight there. He considered crossing his legs, even started to do so, but the one boot that went over his knee grew uncooperative at the thought of bending so far. Huffing, Faustite unzipped them both, pulled them off, and chucked them to the side away from Alkmene and himself. "******** these things. ******** asymmetrical boot bullshit."
He told himself he'd get used to it someday. There was no taking it back, after all.
"Don't like the paperwork part, but the power's good." He had to admit to a thrill for being able to summon nigh infinite youma and agents to his location, knowing that none would refuse him. None could refuse him. "Surprised the Sovereigns don't get out much, knowing this. Could have Destiny City purged of the White Moon inside a week." Granted, it was difficult to pull something like that silently. The city would know.
"Not fond of the outfit, though," he finished, just as he started unbuckling the pauldron and attached cape.
Alkmene couldn't help the way it made him feel, for Faustite to say that of course he came, like ti was the easiest thing in the world. Alkmene was not, as a person, given to sharing--and sometimes, sharing Faustite itched. He accepted it, because it was that or nothing, and "nothing" was an intolerable outcome.
Moments like this soothed the itch. Of course Faustite came, because Alkmene called, because Faustite enjoyed the pleasure of his company.
It was a singular thing, to be wanted.
He laughed, a little, watching Faustite strip out of some of the more ostentatious accoutrements of his new rank.
"Mm, I feel like I got lucky. This just got more practical and more to my tastes." He gestured at his outfit, as if there was any doubt what he was talking about.
"Imagine that the paperwork's why. Lots of management to do, not a lot of time for fun, exciting things like murdering everyone on the other side." A soft, wistful sigh. "Too bad. Would be fun. One big, decisive fight. But not in the cards." For a lot of reasons, honestly.
"But how are you? Not the work, not the rest, just...you?"
Strickenized
Posted: Sat Jul 15, 2023 8:36 am
Paring down his outfit to the essentials entailed a lot of <******** this thing and <******** that thing utterances from Faustite while he stripped down to the pants and black cropped tank top that underlaid his complicated jacket. He could admit that the ensemble was decorated — much of what they were to wear demanded the attention of the onlooker, which had its place in formal meetings or occasions — but it all lacked the comfortable familiarity that his General's uniform had. Granted, he could still wear it, but at the expense of an aura that proved an immensely potent deterrent. A group of senshi might yet still piss around with an Eternal and a General, especially if they came in Courts like Lysithea's.
The thought of her name alone had him bristle with rage, which was vented with an unnecessarily harsh kick to the pile of clothes he just made. It gave him distance from them, however, and that felt better, but that could never buy him distance from someone so maddeningly selfish and unaware as her.
Now that he felt a little more himself, he diverted his attention back to the conversation. Alkmene spoke, sounding sensible about his outfit, and Faustite was silent about it. His silence was often an agreement, or a companionable affair, with fits and starts of sass coming out in gesture or action. He allowed a short pause before he archly pointed up at the brambles surrounding Alkmene's hair buns. True, he wouldn't be able to see them, but perhaps the wily smile would convey that something was amiss with them.
"Got some time for fun. It's just…" He paused, then abandoned the sentence. He didn't know how to finish it, primarily because he couldn't identify or explain what held him back so thoroughly. Something was there, however, keeping him reticent of the idea of mounting another, bigger mission now that he had more power. And it was because of that block that he kept reviewing some of the dissonant comments made to him by Encke, who was so purely and ineffably convinced that he was correct about the Negaverse and senshi and how the universe was meant to work. It prompted more wearisome questions that only compounded whatever it was that left him in a state of torpor.
But Alkmene's question was a welcome one, for it let him set such thoughts aside. "Don't know," he answered, then supposed it wasn't that much different to talk about his own state than it was to talk about the nebulous, suffocating block that stalked him. He reached for the boy's hand instead, shifted his seating position so he was angled closer to Alkmene. "Can't figure it out. Bothers the s**t out of me."
There was something ever so charming about Faustite's frustrations with his overdecorated outfit. Perhaps it was right, for a General-King to look dramatic. Attention-grabbing. Powerful. But for a quiet evening in the park, with a boy who was far more fond of Faustite than he had ever expected to be when they first met....all the ostentation probably was a little bit obnoxious.
And speaking of obnoxious magic.
Faustite pointed at the briars in his hair, and Alkmene reached up--and his figners brushed over a bouquet of flowers, rather than thorns, and he flushed and ducked his head.
"I don't know why they do that," he admitted, "but it seems to have something to do with how I'm feeling. Started after Celadonite and I took a trip into the Rift and I stumbled on this weird crystal--pretty much harmless, just. You know." Embarrassing. Ridiculous. Alkmene didn't like wearing his heart so obviously on his sleeve--and no, the tattoo didn't count, that was different for reasons. Reasons like "someone could theoretically miss the symbolism, if they weren't paying attention," which was good enough for him.
Alkmene casually crossed one leg over the other, and, when Faustite moved closer, took his hand and settled up against him. "Wanna talk it out, see if putting it in words helps?" Maybe it would. Maybe it wouldn't. "No pressure. But, you know. Every once in a while, talking helps."
Strickenized
Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2023 8:56 am
Alkmene was kind enough to launch into the explanation for his magic unbidden. It was endearing to know that Celadonite and Alkmene had an outing together, whatever the purpose, and that Alkmene found something useful to take back to Negaspace from their venture in the Rift. He chuckled, however, when he thought about what might have been escaping Alkmene's perspective. "You know youma hate senshi. Rift might've been ******** with you, giving you that.
"Think it's cute, though, even if it sabotages all your stoicism." The flowers looked good, even if he didn't know anything about the flowers to say what they were. They were the same as the design of Alkmene's tattoo, he could recognize that much.
Talking about his problems, though — that was an idea that Heliodor was constantly on him for. His lack of sharing had caused issues in the past, but it always seemed worse overall to talk about the bad than it did to keep it close to his vest. What Alkmene invited was slightly different, however, for it concerned an active problem, rather than something he faced in the past that could not be undone. Alkmene wasn't asking him to rip open an old wound for the sake of simply knowing about it; he wanted to see if this was something solvable.
"Hard to put words to it," he explained as he took the time to ponder what would best fit his new problem. "Think I'm just. Not catching on as quickly as I need to. Parts of the job keep escaping me. Can't focus. Always feel like I need to be doing something.
"And there's all these… Unresolved problems. People who turned coat from the team, who we can't find anywhere. Princesses we can't take down, or even capture. Got ******** stuck with this weapon that I don't know how to ******** use. And Heliodor's being a complete ******** for being stuck on his bullshit." He shrugged lopsidedly. "Like there's too much going on that I can't ******** fix."
Alkmene groaned, a little theatrically. "You know, I actually hadn't thought of that."
He reached up, plucked a blackberry bloom from among the briars, and fiddled with it between his fingers.
"...It's got the decency to be pretty, though," he admitted. "So I guess if I have to wear my feelings in my hair, it's not completely awful." And if Faustite thought it was cute....well, that did sort of make Alkmene feel better about the whole thing.
Still, he fell silent, idly fiddling with the flower between his figners as Faustite spoke. It wasn't exactly surprising to hear that it wasn't one simple, linear issue, and the mention, particularly, of people turning coat made his expression sour, thinking of his own sister, turned coat and vanished into the ******** night because...whatever. She had her reasons, and Alkmene didn't particularly care about them, if he was honest. She was a traitor just the same, and he hoped that she rotted, with her new White Moon friends at her side.
Still.
"I don't think anyone expects you to fix everything right away. Lepidolite, Axinite, and Hessonite have been General-Sovereigns for years, right? And they haven't managed to kill all the princesses, or stop the flow of traitors, or take over the world, so I think you're allowed some slack for not figuring that out yourself this fast." He huffed. "Not that I imagine me saying 'it's not your job alone' is the easy fix, but it isn't. Just because you're a General-King now--yeah, there's a lot that comes with it." And Alkmene hoped he never had to understand exactly how much, from personal experience, at least. "But 'fix the entire organization' seems like maybe it should at least be a group project, yeah?"
Heliodor, unfortunately, was a massive unknown to him, but...
"Got an idea about the weapon, though. Could see about researching ways to use it online--I bet if I took a picture of it and asked Reddit, I'd have a dozen experts in exotic weaponry telling em exactly what it is and what it's supposed to do. With video links."
Strickenized
Posted: Sat Aug 05, 2023 10:40 am
Faustite thought it would've been awful to have his feelings so blatantly apparent. He thought as much at first, but as he considered earlier times when he felt irritated, or elated, or dreary and downtrodden, he was ever and always called out on it by the people around him. That dawning realization left him a little red around the ears; he never fancied himself easy to read before, but perhaps he and Alkmene with his traitorous magic weren't so different from one another.
He understood, too, what Alkmene was trying to say. It was implicit by the end of it — Faustite was being too hard on himself. He knew he had a habit of that since he'd been stuck with Umber, and Schörl only worsened his need to demand perfection of himself.
But, what was reasonable to expect of a new General-King? Where did the expectations lie? What was appropriate?
"Think we need a less conspicuous way to find out what it is." Should they post a photo of his weapon to the internet, then any senshi who recognized the weapon as the one in Faustite's possession could then find out who posted the photo, right? And what would that do to Alkmene, to his safety, especially with Lilith MIA? "See if I can find someone to name what the ******** it is, find a photo of one that isn't so… iconic, then maybe your contacts can help." And that might offer Alkmene another layer of protection.
"Guess I thought power would beget capability." Faustite, sighing, laid back against the ground. His gaze cast up to the fireflies dancing about overhead, sparking off myriad colors as if to emulate electronics or seduce small children. "But what good is power if you don't know how to wield it."
And if wielding it got the results that he encountered, what then? "Still can't believe Cybele became a ******** Princess under my palm."
Alkmene considered. He hadn't thought of it being too conspicuous--perhaps because his identity was a carefully constructed fiction, anyway. But still, he nodded. No reason to hand intel to the enemy, if someone on the other side happened to stumble across it.
"Fair point. Leaves the problem of naming it out there, but there's people with all kinds of knowledge in the Negaverse, so I'd bet we can find something of an answer in-house." Better to do that than to risk things getting too complicated too fast.
He shifted his hand, just enough to wind his and Faustite's fingers together.
"Anyway, you just got all that power. You'll have to figure out what to do with it. That'll take time, experience, understanding." A soft huff. "******** Cybele, though. Hate seeing another b***h get wings. And who the ******** knows if there's Royals hiding out that we don't even know about." He leaned his head on Faustite's shoulder, a body to provide physical comfort.
"But that's also not your fault. Who even knows how the getting-wings bullshit works. It's not like there's a way to like....figure out a pattern, or..." Alkmene paused. Considered. "Wonder if there is a way to figure out a pattern." It might help them, if they could manage it. Discover the conditions that made a Prince or Princess, and do their best to prevent them from occurring.
Strickenized
Posted: Thu Aug 10, 2023 2:09 pm
Faustite hummed pensively. "Could ask the Forgemaster," he pointed out. It was that youma's job to produce weapons for an unconscionable amount of time; surely it had run across something of the like during its tenure. Failing that, he was sure someone in SpecOps would know what it is or how to use it. Hessonite might know.
Maybe it wasn't as efficient to sit at Haru's apartment and watch YouTube videos with him to learn how to use his weapon. Maybe it would be borderline pointless once he added some alcohol to the equation. But, even if he only gleaned the barest modicum of information from binging three hours' worth of videos, or leaving them on in the background while they had gotten around to more exercise intensive activities, Faustite thought such a use of his time was well worth it. Far better than having to listen to Forgemaster acting deferential again.
Faustite heaved a heavy sigh. Time, experience, and understanding were difficult to come by of late, and Faustite wasn't sure what in the hell he was expected to do in the mean time. ******** around until he nearly got himself killed? ******** around until he nearly got everyone else killed? Those seemed to be his main options, or at least his main defaults when he was left to govern himself.
While Alkmene leaned against him, Faustite carded his long nails through the boy's hair, careful to avoid snagging one of the buns or their floral centerpieces. It was something simple, nice, easily accomplished. Easily done as long as they remained undisturbed.
He considered the question in silence for a moment. "Should be able to. That was the first known instance of her using her wings. Must be the first — expect she'd use them at every advantage if she had them before. Ida's was spontaneous; came out of the blue while we were all fighting that blight monster. Don't know if that was her first, but she looked astonished enough that it might have been.
"Rest are a mystery. But if you can pry the information out of the enemy, or learn it while pretending to be nice, there might be a latent pattern."
"Oooh, yes," Alkmene perked up. That old b*****d of a youma would probably know more about weapons than anyone else they could access. But then, the Negaverse had a myriad of resources--and Faustite was surely not the first person who had gotten a weapon they were deeply unfamiliar with.
Butt hat felt almost secondary to how good it felt to lean against Faustite, to feel fingers carding throguh his fancy Rapunzel hair, to simply know that he was in a place where he was wanted, with someone who wanted to be with him.
It almost soothed the ache of his sister's disappearance, truth be told.
"Mmm. One during a fight with a giant monster, one when you had your hand in her chest....crises, maybe? Like, some kind of weird magical response to danger?" He'd need more data to be sure. Two points weren't the full picture. But Alkmene would be willing to bet that he could get it, if he was smart. If he asked the right people, found the right pieces. There had to be an answer. Had to be a way to recognize that a Royal might be coming.
Which might mean they could cut one down in her tracks, before she made that a lot harder by having crystal power at her fingertips.
