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 Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2023 9:13 am
Faustite sighed dejectedly. His frustration for the day ad begun with the job's paperwork, progressed with the job's paperwork, and neared a nuclear point of no return with the job's paperwork. Reviewing reports and supervising Database entries was the bulk of the paperwork he'd dealt with as a General, and while the amount of desk jockeying he had to do hadn't so much expanded, it certainly changed. And now there were different types of paperwork that needed to be read and understood differently, and while Faustite didn't necessarily consider himself stupid, he knew he didn't have the patience to learn so much nomenclature when they could speak plainly and uniformly in these submissions.
What lay before him was a two-page submission, some kind of a requisition document, but it was submitted on a form so archaic that Faustite couldn't even deduce where they had gotten ahold of such a pad. Not only that, but the thing was loaded to the gills with abbreviations that Faustite had scarcely seen, and could seldom guess their meaning.
And after the row of six officer complaints from the same two Generals? Faustite was beyond fed up with pencil pushing for the night. He took up the page, folded it in half out of some perfunctory need for privacy, and stormed out of his office in a whirl of smoke.
Once he shut the door, he hadn't far to go; all his peers were on the same floor, and while Axinite would be the smart one to go to as the one who trained him, he didn't want to endure the feeling of admitting his own ineptitude to the poor, infinitely patient man for like, the seventeenth ******** time. No, it was time to dig a grave for others' faith in him on someone else's plot — namely Jet's. He hadn't been to Jet for a while. He hadn't subjected Jet to his dwindling ability to do the job correctly of late.
In a few steps, he reached the door and rapped on it curtly. "Need you to explain this to me," he called from the other side, then added, "if you're not busy."
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Posted: Sun Jul 23, 2023 8:52 am
“For you? Never busy,” Jet responded almost immediately as he set his own pen down and shuffled the stack of pages he’d been working on to the side.
He checked the clock to make sure it wasn’t too late. He didn’t want Lovely at home without him for long, but something about getting ready for inventory, but with a lot more curses in between each word, made him suspect he had a little while longer.
“Can I tempt you with anything to eat or drink? Although I wouldn’t doubt Axinite dumping sweets off with you, too,” Jet sighed and glanced at the assorted cookies and baked items that he had on a counter near the door to his office. A little sitting area as well, just in case a more casual location was required.
Which he wouldn’t mind now as long as Faustite wouldn’t burn the microfiber cushions.
He stood from his desk to walk closer, hoping that it would keep Faustite from needing to pace or get anxious about anything.
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Posted: Mon Jul 24, 2023 8:31 am
Faustite tried to bite off the corners of his smile. It was sweet, saying something like that to him, But whatever his heartstrings said about such a gesture, now wasn't the time for it.
"Mm," he affirmed as he stepped into the office. "Eat everything he gives me, though." No use regifting them to the officers who may or may not be visiting his office, and may or may not have a sweet tooth, when he could use those cookies himself to fill his perpetually empty stomach. And Axinite didn't seem to mind, either, for the man hadn't said anything to him about it. They certainly weren't going to waste.
And if Jet was looking to offload some more? Faustite didn't mind dipping over to the seating area and taking up a few. Was harder for him to pick up more than one or two with the other hand occupied, but he didn't mind; he could stand and eat and talk with his mouth full.
As for tempting him with anything to drink — Faustite just watched him coyly.
"Not a fan of paperwork," Faustite prefaced with his mouth half-full of chocolate chip cookie. "Got one that looks older than us. Some kind of requisition form. But it's written in all these ******** acronyms that I don't recognize." He held the form out for Jet to peruse, and it looked largely intact from Faustite's care, save for the small black dot at the top where he had held it between two claws.
For all he knew, it could be asking for a ******** lamp. Not that Faustite knew if they had extra lamps. And if they did, he wouldn't know where the hell they were stored.
"Got half a mind to write it off as a Lepidolite thing and send it to him. Be a ******** shame if I was wrong, though."
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Posted: Tue Jul 25, 2023 7:07 am
Jet didn’t miss that Faustite was putting the cookie into his mouth, rather than straight into the fire that was his midsection. He couldn’t help but stand a little straight, pleased to see what looked like maybe a little progress on Faustite not treating himself as a garbage bin.
“Paperwork is the worst,” Jet agreed with a grimace in commiseration. He did his paperwork, but only because he needed to make sure it was done right. He wasn’t about to hand it off to someone else and then sign his name on it.
He took the few steps necessary to move closer to Faustite, and carefully removed the page from his claws so he could take a closer look.
“The ******** is this,” he muttered as he held up the page and then turned it upside down as if that was the issue, but then righted it after a moment. “Got half the mind to say it got lost and if it’s asked about, tell them to use the new forms. We’ve got tablets, for ******** sake,” he huffed, but he looked intrigued by the idea of dumping some work onto Lepidolite’s desk.
“Have you noticed how many things end up circulated into Information that should have gone to Lepidolite? I think he’s just pushing everything off onto Axinite, and now you. And of course Axinite just does it.”
He respected the man, but he didn’t agree with how much work he took onto himself.
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Posted: Sun Aug 06, 2023 6:12 pm
Faustite grunted his agreement with Jet's idea. Faustite then snatched the paper back with his free hand, wadded it up against his hip, and poked it through the gaps in the grate. "s**t," he exclaimed dryly, "hand slipped."
If they truly wanted to requisition whatever it was, perhaps they shouldn't have written it up on archaic forms and sent it to the General-King who was actively on fire, the antithesis to all paperwork and pencil-pushing. That was how he wanted to feel about it, but the shade of his own ineptitude forever haunted him, warning him that all these little mishaps and failures and poor choices would inevitably amount to something treacherous.
"Found it in one of Axinite's piles," Faustite confirmed as he licked his fingers clean of cookie. "There's just so much s**t. Would burn it all if he wouldn't have a heart attack over it." And that was the fundamental difference between them, wasn't it? Faustite didn't know the value of reports and paperwork the way that Axinite did, thus the information they valued was likewise different. It may have been some time since Axinite was out in the field, but he still knew how to recognize pertinent and integral field intel to feed to SpecOps when the need arose, and occasionally pointed out intel that Faustite missed. Yet, Faustite was abysmal at catching the nuances that Infiltration would want to follow up on, but Axinite would pick them out as plain as if they were typed in bold red ink.
Then there was Jet, working just fine on his own, without having to constantly hover in one of the other General-Sovereign's offices asking stupid questions about paperwork that he didn't understand. But Jet had a better head for these things; Faustite just wanted to stretch his legs in the field and beat people to death or barbecue them.
It was all he wanted of late, anyway.
"Thanks for that," Faustite returned after a beat. "And the cookie."
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Posted: Sun Aug 06, 2023 6:25 pm
Jet stared when Faustite snatched the paper away, and then shoved the wadded paper into the fire. He blinked, and then made an attempt to hold back a snicker of amusement, before finally giving up and laughing. It was a warm laugh, not at all at Faustite’s expense. Maybe he was surprised that Faustite could crack a joke every now and then. (Was it even a joke? Jet couldn’t tell for certain, but it was amusing nonetheless.)
Hands free, he leaned back against his desk, placing both hands on the edge to support himself.
“Your secret is safe with me. Or if you need someone to help trash whatever garbage Axinite ends up with, just let me know,” he said in a low voice with a wink.
Anything to make their lives easier. They had enough to deal with rather than old paperwork that was probably sent in as a joke to begin with.
“How are things going, otherwise? I remember very well how frustrating it was to figure things out. No offense, but you look exhausted,” he pointed out, hoping Faustite wouldn’t take offense to his candidness.The worst that could happen was Faustite teleporting out of his office. Oh, or probably setting the office on fire. That would probably be worse.
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Posted: Sun Aug 06, 2023 6:59 pm
"Hope you know how to pick a lock, then. Or get into his subspace," Faustite replied as he curled a hand against his hip. Axinite was ever vigilant with his documents, particularly if they contained sensitive information that could not — or had not yet been — stored on a tablet behind login privilege. But Faustite knew less than nothing about computers, and so still preferred sorting out all the physical copies despite the very obvious handicap living in his gut. However, when there came a rare moment when Axinite had to go to the bathroom, he was ever vigilant about tucking all that nonsense away in a locked compartment in his desk before departing to take care of his business.
To this day, Faustite was rather surprised that he didn't convert his desk chair to a latrine to save himself the trip. But it wasn't his place to pry into Axinite's affairs or his preferences for efficiency. Maybe the change would look too unprofessional to visitors, not that Faustite much understood professionalism as anything but a buzzword.
Faustite snorted at Jet's observation, though his gaze cast to the floor thereafter. "******** terrible." It was the easiest answer he could supply. The remainder was an increasingly frustrating struggle with verbal descriptions. "Can't get anything right, and there's so much s**t going wrong that I can't fix any of that either."
He started to pace, his tenseness wound up about his person like a boa of smoke. "Always wanting to beat someone's face in. Or solve ******** problems that can't be solved. And when nothing gets done, I only have myself to blame.
"I'm not ******** cut out for this. I can't ******** do this, but I have to."
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Posted: Tue Aug 08, 2023 1:09 pm
As Faustite began to pace, Jet’s expression fell. He knew it could be hard. He doubted he would have been able to keep up with anything if he didn’t have the support he got from others. Especially the support he got from Aquamarine.
But Faustite had so many people he could fall back on for help. Or maybe he had too many and made it into an impossible standard for him to achieve.
“Saying that you’re not cut out for this could very well be an insult to everyone who believes you are. The Queen believes you are. Metallia does. It doesn’t matter if you don’t think you are.”
For Jet, it was an honor he didn’t think he, Jet, deserved. He wasn’t ambitious in the way others were. He didn’t seek power to have power, but he would damn well use what he was given. He would have been happy with a pat on the back and encouragement to keep up the good work.
But he knew he shouldn’t take the Queen’s decisions lightly. And he didn’t think Faustite should, either.
He wasn’t Faustite. He didn’t have the same troubles, same burdens as Faustite. Which was why he could only offer his sincere thoughts in the hopes it would give Faustite some more insight. Even as he cautioned him, Jet didn’t sound like he was insulted, because he wasn’t.
“What problems do you have? Let me help,” he offered. Faustite, or anyone in the Negaverse, suffering meant that the rest of them would feel it sooner or later. It was best to heal the wounds instead or put a temporary patch over it.
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2023 6:43 am
Faustite understood what Jet was saying. He understood why people thought that way. In the manner of capitalism, a promotion was an investment. It was against the interests of both the one promoted and the one doing the promoting for that investment to stagnate or prove less valuable than if it had never happened at all. No one wanted to hear that something they poured time and effort into had turned out to be a failure. That was why these sorts of conversations were taboo.
It left Faustite feeling estranged from the conversation, and Faustite could only look at Jet in response. He could not find the words with which to express himself right then, with his jaw feeling so wired shut but thrumming with the energy to speak. His shoulders felt tight, as if a knot had been tied in their sinew and was being drawn slowly tighter.
In response, he only shook his head. "Figure it out on my own." He turned to head for the exit to the hall. "Like I'm supposed to."
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Posted: Thu Sep 21, 2023 9:18 am
Jet didn’t stop him, but he took a moment to place his hands on his hips in disbelief as he watched Faustite take his leave.
“You’re deciding that on your own, Faustite. No one said you’re supposed to figure it out on your own except you,” he sighed. But he had plenty of things to do than harass Faustite about accepting help. If Faustite didn’t want it, then he didn’t want it.
“My door’s always open,” he did call out a bit louder to hopefully make sure he heard him. If not, or if he was ignored, then he was sure Faustite had plenty of people on his team to get help from if he did want it.
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