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 Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 8:14 pm
The duties of an officer of the Negaverse were simple enough, Prismatine found. It was all too easy to wander the streets at night and find people he could bump close to just long enough to take some energy, or go into a park and find someone lingering, foolishly, after dark and take their energy for a far better cause. They clearly weren't doing anything smart with it. Better to just deliver it to the Negaverse and ensure it got used somewhere that mattered. He'd decided to take a break, of sorts--his last "victim" was next to him on the bench he'd plopped down on, though he'd only sat down after draining them unconscious and sort of shoving them over to make room. A little macabre, perhaps, but they were still alive, just asleep. Which was, clearly, perfectly fine. Any risk of exposure was just what they got for taking a nap in the cold. There was someone else here, but Prismatine chose to ignore the nagging of his aura sense or whatever it was. Yes, he'd already had an encounter with someone stronger than him and he'd regretted it and had to go home and get Alyosha's help with bandaging up his legs, which was a tragedy because his legs were definitely one of his finest features, but that was fine. Surely that wouldn't happen twice.
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 8:59 pm
He couldn't remember it now, but his first conversation with Joy - made in desperation and pleading - had been about how exhausting it was to go through life thinking that every responsibility in front of you was bait, and that the jaws were going to spring shut on you as soon as you thought you were doing what you were obligated to do. Still. The Order aura wasn't all that strong, as it drew near. Not any stronger than Prismatine's, actually, if he was able to judge those kinds of things, because twenty minutes ago Maus had begun his patrol in the same way he always did - soothing his nerves by running that medallion over his fingers, back and forth, in a fidget that at least had the benefit of causing people to underestimate him, even if it had done nothing for his nerves. Those, of course, came back in the way they always did when he saw a suspiciously-casual agent apparently unconcerned by the prospect of interruption. Maus wasn't underestimating anyone, especially not whoever might be lurking around nearby waiting for an opportune moment to intervene. But obligation was stronger than nerves - it was one of his better qualities; one of few truly good ones - and so he did not outwardly hesitate as he stepped into the circle of streetlight, one hand in a pocket (bag dangling from his wrist) and the other occupied with a cigarette, which did about as much as the medallion had - nothing much. He eyed the civilian on the bench but did not immediately move to enact some kind of violence, just in case. "Gonna be bad for both of us if that guy is dead and not just sleeping it off," he said, very pleasantly. But he must have seen the rise and fall of a deep-sleep breath, because he almost immediately continued: "Gonna tell me he's drunk?"
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Posted: Sat Feb 21, 2026 8:04 pm
Prismatine was not particularly intimidated by the guy that stepped into the light. He wasn't exactly big and looming, and sure, magic could make up that difference, but Prismatine wasn't going to let himself think too hard about that. At least this guy wasn't jumping to jump him. That was a positive. "He might be drunk," Prismatine said, idly, "but no, you're totally right, that's not why he's out. Alive, though." He twirled his silly little glitter stick between his fingers, standing up off the bench because, even though he was maintaining a forced casual affect, he was definitely prepared for this to shift on a dime. Everything Mother said about the other side--the White Moon, or whatever--was that they were dangerous and sanctimonious. That they didn't understand the Negaverse's mission, or thought that what they took wasn't worth what they gave, or any number of other justifications. So this might turn, quickly, if the...Knight?? Maybe? Prismatine was still learning, but he didn't see anything sailor, so probably not a Sailor Senshi--if the Knight in front of him decided it needed to. "I've been taught they're more useful that way."
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Posted: Sat Feb 21, 2026 10:31 pm
Noir Songbird Forgotten Spell: A spectral dagger forms behind the target and drives between their shoulderblades before vanishing, causing pain but no actual injury (unless desired by their player). Effective in a 20ft radius and can be used three times per battle. "Yeah," he said flatly, "I got taught that too. Sucks that it's so much easier to learn something wrong than unlearn it. Probably told you it's for some Glorious Purpose, huh?" He was meandering closer, but he, too, had that attitude of forcibly casual. He was looking at him, his brow gently furrowed in some sort of consternation, which served the purpose of making his continued restless movement seem like the product of being deep in some sort of thought. "Think twice next time," he suggested, again pleasantly, as if having just arrived at the conclusion that the weather would certainly be nice this weekend. He made an empty, useless little gesture - swung the unassuming little bag hanging from his hand back and forth - and did what he had not, yet, quite had the courage to do to a human being, on the basis that he didn't know how effective it was. It was a little comfort, that he could not actually see the ghostly knife from where he was standing, given that it was manifesting behind the agent's back.
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Posted: Sun Feb 22, 2026 7:52 pm
"I got taught that too."That made Prismatine tense up, suddenly significantly more alert. This man--if he'd been taught Negaverse dogma, that meant he was ex-Negaverse. There was a traitor before him, and Prismatine could--take his starseed, perhaps. Surely bringing in a traitor would be worth something, a way to make up for the fumble that, fortunately, no one (except for Alyosha, but Alyosha knew far more embarrassing things about Vasha, so that was fine) knew about. "Too bad you didn't learn loyalty, then," he said, and he started to bring his arm back to throw his glitter stick as a distraction, except there was something, suddenly, very wrong. Prismatine had never been stabbed before, much less stabbed in the back, and he decided very immediately that he did not like the experience. And it ******** hurt. He spun, expecting to see someone behind him, but there was nothing there, which meant-- "What the ******** did you do," he snarled. "Is that your magic?" It probably was, and while he still felt like he was standing, and he didn't feel blood running down his spine or any further nastiness, it did make him less than eager to continue this little confrontation. So he started backing away, arm still reared back to throw his glitter stick if he had to. "Doesn't matter. I already got what I wanted." He had the energy. He just...had to leave.
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Posted: Sun Feb 22, 2026 8:25 pm
"For now. But you'll be out here again, doing the same s**t, won't you? Since you're so loyal." It wasn't even menacing. It was, if anything, tired. This was mostly due to the fact that Maus was contending with an inward wave of relief so intense that it had nearly made him nauseated, simply because the agent had not, in fact, gone down as if it had been a real knife. This was, of course, nonsensical. Every agent was a potential cluster of murders, taken as a number - and he had called it atonement math, hadn't he? - and it was some wishy-washy bullshit to be relieved he hadn't removed that cluster off the board entirely. Even stupider to be relieved to know that he had in his hands a weapon that was a deterrent that wouldn't leave him with blood on his hands (again). He'd never been one of those people who was bad at math. He felt pretty bad at it right now. He wanted to give chase. He wanted to have the courage to do what probably ought, rightly, to be done, and just find a way to kill the ******** before they graduated to murder, if they hadn't already. He could probably do it. How hard had it been before? Without a little magical armory to help him do the deed, which he must have done with his own human hands. "Clear the ******** out then," he said, instead, moving towards the unconscious victim and pointedly taking his eyes off their attacker, letting Prismatine back away unimpeded, "or it's gonna go badly." For both of us, probably.
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