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 In the Mists, Petro~
✧ ANTARES
 Posted: Aug 13 2017, 04:19 PM
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Unknown • Scorpii Cyborg • Dedication • Unknown


I've become
a simple souvenir of someone's kill
NOTES: PETRO ASTREA || Very spoopy.....

The world Antares lived in was small. There were few he cared to share his world with these days, but that did not bother him. Alhena was his foremost concern; though, of late, he had been getting better - mobility training was having a slow, but positive, effect on him - and his capabilities during their sparring match had been more than enough to indicate that he was far beyond helpless. What had happened - what he had done - was in the past. He needed to treat it as such; and with each passing day it became easier to move forward, easier to put the past behind him. But all the same, despite knowing the world was his now - despite knowing that he was free, he wasn’t….entirely sure what he should do. Freedom - it was a concept he had little grasp over.

Even in the past - far distant, when he had lived a normal life by his sister’s side, with his mother and his father, he had not known, he supposed, a true freedom. He had been more at liberty to choose his path than Laeta - she was more of a pawn than he was, a tool to raise his family from the common status. But he had always been attached to his sister, had always admired and respected her. He hadn’t wanted her to bear that burden alone, and so he had followed her into the military program of the Scorpii people, training since his early years of schooling. He was free, by the technical definition, but he had forced himself on a path that did not allow for leisure time. He had never properly learned to enjoy time, not in the way that others did. It was why he had had such a hard time connecting with Shohi Leo, why he had seemed so standoffish to Jihi Geminar.

Even free, his life was a routine. But he didn’t mind that. He didn’t mind filling his life with a daily routine, expectations to follow.

In the morning, he would make breakfast - if Alhena was not already awake and doing the very same. After that, he left for the morning scout, to ensure they were not being watched. Late morning was training - either by himself, or with Alhena. Then he would pore over the week’s information - things that he needed to learn. After that he would run Alhena through another set of recovery routines, designed to assist his mobility and physical recovery. Then he would head out for the afternoon scout, purchase goods and materials as needed, return to make dinner, and after that, he would clean. It was a fairly standard routine - but that was simply how he was accustomed to living. It felt refreshing, to be able to follow the norm that he was so used to. He was always conscious of his surroundings - looking for threats around every corner. He had sworn to himself he would protect Alhena. Never again would he - or Antares himself - fall into enemy hands.

It was his mid-morning scout that broke the routine on this day. He had expected all to be normal - they had hidden themselves well, far from sight and away from the war. Until now he had faced only one Night Mare. He had thought perhaps they had placed themselves well. But this morning, as he ran his usual routine, calling on a heavy fog to cloud all movement, he sensed a second warm body, humanoid, on his motion and heat detectors both. There was another living being present. At the very least it meant they were not a Nightmare Man, but that….meant very little.

Antares was instantly in defense mode, focus on the distant figure as he made a slow, quiet approach. He could only sense that they were humanoid and warm-bodied; nothing else could be seen from this distance. The only hope he had was that they….were not his enemy. A passer by, perhaps. That, at least, was his hope.
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✧ PETRO ASTREA
 Posted: Aug 14 2017, 05:46 AM
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???? • Virgoan Celestial • Remembrance • Queens, NYC, NY


Petro looked at his paper and at the bulletin board in front of him “Such a cliché” he said to himself. He eyed the board with a variety of push pins, pictures, and threads connecting each person and piece of evidence. It looked like piss pour collage with yarn thrown in, but it was actually his latest case. The cops would take it of course, the client did some illegal things. So he was on it. He looked at one thread of a guy smiling. “The dearly deceased partner.” he looked at a web of suspects he had already talked to, and clues they had given him. He wished this was a simple murder case, when he had enough evidence he would just turn it into the police. His hand rubbed his face.

“They robbed the bank back in that year…his friends were hmmm.” He sighed he need a break. The client was a bank robber; his partner buried the cash before they got caught, and only problem is the partner died 3 years ago. The surviving partner is scrambling to find the rest of the loot. It sounded like something out of a crime book, only the robbers were idiots. How they managed to even rob a bank was beyond him. Petro didn’t need the money, he could make precious gems with a touch of his fingers for Pete sake. He knew it would be challenging, time consuming, and require a lot of foot work. It’s the same reason he took any job honestly. “Oh shit…” A clue was right in front of him, the late partner’s wife mentioned a vacation…
+++

He walked the terrain hands in his pocket, he didn’t expect to have to drag his but all the way out here, but he was certain the money was dug here….somewhere. Lucky for this client this case had proved more entertaining than is was tedious. Petro walked the land, using his terrakinesis to dowse the area for any signs of foreign materials buried under the ground. It might take a few days to cover this area multiple times, but he was going to crack this case.

His eyes shifted to the fog rolling in. It was natural for a valley to be a place where fog formed…only it didn’t feel like the dew point. On the contrary, the midday sun should kept a thing from happening. Petro took a breath, wondering if it was something he could barter with. Usually an angry ghost just needed a person to talk to or person to give them some space. Other creatures that produced fog would be a mark more troubling, but he could deal. He continued his trek now on guard. If he had to defend his self he would ready. It had been hard to forget his training; heck walking around the wilds of earth was more dangerous than his home planet. Earth had such a mix of creatures and immortals, that they lived in almost every biome, nook, and cranny they could find. Earthlings were resilient he’d give them that.

Petro shoved his hands in his pocket and covered them with a nice ruby. It was a bit painful to get a sturdy gemstone, but he could handle a little bit of pain. This fog was getting thicker, a tip he was headed for the epicenter. What worried him was the dead silence. He couldn’t hear a thing. Petro didn’t think he would run into a trap, the best thing to do was appear unassuming. His heart pounded, he should had been relieve he wasn’t getting anything from his sixth sense, but he could see the vague outline of a figure. “Someone else there? Walking in the fog is the worst, ain't.” he said, hoping whatever was here didn’t think he was looking for a fight

CARMA
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✧ ANTARES
 Posted: Aug 18 2017, 10:32 PM
Quote
Unknown • Scorpii Cyborg • Dedication • Unknown


I've become
a simple souvenir of someone's kill
NOTES: PETRO ASTREA || He's having a moment man

It was almost like returning to training. Antares remembered…there was one drill that the Scorpii would run. One that he would run with his shohi when they trained. It was a stealth operation they called Zaeqixii, literally Pointy Needles, or in common Celestial tongue, Needlepoint. During Needlepoint training, one individual would play the role of a sniping attacker, and the rest would have to work together to clear the field. It was meant to train both sides of the operation; on the one hand, those under fire needed to work together – use each other’s viewpoints, communicate to one another if they saw the sniper, and direct one another to the POST – the Path Of Safe Retreat. The sniper needed to learn how to keep hidden, and keep track of multiple targets. They needed to learn how to separate the enemy to maximize their vulnerability, and remain silent. Sometimes Needlepoint was played in open fields; most of the time it involved difficult terrain; rock outcroppings, mountains, forests, bogs.

He felt like the sniper in a Needlepoint simulation. Yet he also felt like one of the targets. At once he felt like…both.

He responded as he would in the role of the sniper; creating cover to make visibility difficult for his targets. The lack of visibility worked to his own advantage; after all, he could switch visibility from visual processing to heat sensing or motion tracking. The discs of his “irises” clicked into place, switching from visual to heat sensing, and he also activated motion tracking to give him a more accurate depth reading of his target’s coordinates. Auditory sensors were still active – so while he remained silent, standing at the exact center of the fog’s origin, he could hear the approach of his target. He turned, both of his wrist-based targeting arrays glowing faintly blue as he activated them, ready to blast his adversary if necessary. His bladed arm was also ready to convert into sword mode if necessary, though he imagined his blasters would be enou-

The target had stopped, and was…speaking.

As his auditory processors converted the sound into recorded digital waveform, he had to stop. His blasters powered down, processing power re-routed to calling on data from his memory archives. The files he was looking for were…ancient. He wasn’t even sure if they…could be opened. He was able to…access the audio file, but the facial recognition match was beyond salvageable, the pixels corrupted beyond any semblance of repair. He played the audio file, catching….what little hadn’t been eroded over time.

Jih…ime…nd you….training?

Once more.

Jih…ime…nd you….training?

Someone else there? Walking in the fog is the worst, ain’t it.

Jih…ime…nd you….training?

It was….garbled…but the sound…it was similar. He couldn’t give it an exact match; there was only about a 74% likeness match, but the file was so old, with so much erosion noise…that it was hard to tell. The only way he could be sure of it…..he did not reduce the fog, but he did step forward, making himself…only slightly visible. Not enough to make out exact features, but his shape would be clearer, the colour of his hair, his attire. He stood stiffly as he looked upon the other.

”State your name and intentions.”
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✧ PETRO ASTREA
 Posted: Aug 19 2017, 09:30 PM
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???? • Virgoan Celestial • Remembrance • Queens, NYC, NY


The voice, it couldn’t be. His mind was starting to race at the possibilities, the voice was one he thought died with Pitch’s conquest of the constellations. A voice he could remember that had become one of his closest friends and when shouted became one of the fiercest motivators. It couldn’t be, the mist here started to look familiar, but that thought alone was ludicrous. Mist couldn’t look familiar, it was the signature technique of the Scorpii, but such a jump was against all the odds. From the countless fallen celestials, the limited number to survive, the chances of find earth, and live this long; it was a long shot. Petro was never this lucky, he could never depend on luck. It had to be some phantom.

He took a hard gulp trying to collect himself, it was a trick of some kind, to pull at his heart strings. His guard was up, he took a cautious step forward with his hands up in the air to show he meant no harm. “Petro Astrea, though on earth I go by Peter Elliot.” He took a step forward hoping to get a better view of this phantom. His heart was pounding, he hoped the form was different. He hoped this wasn’t some vile trick, but just a coincident that proved he was going senile in all these years. He took another cautious step and could see a form, a very faint form, but….it. Blonde hair, a soldier’s build…he froze in place. He hated his center more and more everyday. He wanted to just make some crystal and disappear, or maybe just dig himself into a hole. “I am on a case looking for property of a client. Now your turn. State your name and intentions.” He was praying to his probably faded goddesses that he was not going to Antares.

CARMA

This post has been edited by PETRO ASTREA: Aug 19 2017, 09:30 PM
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✧ ANTARES
 Posted: Aug 22 2017, 12:16 AM
Quote
Unknown • Scorpii Cyborg • Dedication • Unknown


I've become
a simple souvenir of someone's kill
NOTES:PETRO ASTREA || It's going to be so sad oh god help no I'm not ready

That voice…it couldn’t be. He checked…he checked again…he cross-checked, over and over, replaying the archaic audio file. It was so garbled now…damaged, the noise overlay was too much for him to discern for sure…but the waves matched almost perfectly. If only….facial recognition from that time was not so damaged; all that was left was a shadow, and besides that he couldn’t make out direct features. He was not yet close enough for that. Even if he could….yet another fear came to his mind. Until now….all the faces he had met…he had not recognized. Leo…Pandinus…Alhena…he had not recognized any one of them. On the one hand….he had not been himself. At that time…he was Tiberius’ android, “Designation Scorpius” – fittingly named for the constellation, a testament to her genius and her own cruel irony towards the Scorpii people. He had not been himself….and she had locked away access to much of his informational database. Perhaps….he would recognize this face. He was Antares…now. Perhaps he would…

But if he did not….if he couldn’t remember, even then…

The figure stepped forward. His hands were up – a sign of harmlessness, he did not wish to fight. Antares did not either. At least in that, he could remain rel-

Petro……Astrea. Astrea…







…is alive. Shohi Astrea….


He wanted to step into the light. He wanted to disappear into the shadows. The words spoken after…were recorded, but he felt like he had not heard them. This was…that name, that voice….and as he came nearer…his face. Antares wanted to approach him, but…his face….his eyes…the marks where the false skin was sewn, where metal panels began…he did not…..want his shohi to see. But more than anything he wanted….to be sure. Everything his scanners told him….said that this was a physical entity, that Astrea….was here. Alive. But he wanted to feel….for himself, to know. He wanted to hide….yet he wanted to embrace the one he’d thought long lost.

The latter won.

He stepped forward, slowly, his own hands in the air.

”Is that any way…to address your…”

His words trailed off. He had wanted to say something….witty, but it shattered at the end. Because Astrea’s face….looked so tired, so worn, so….hurt. He drew in a breath, his expression neutral as ever.

”Antares filius Tueri, Captain of the Guard of the Scorpii.”

He felt….something tighten within his chest. Something that was not there, but was still felt al lthe same, an anxiety he had never thought he would feel.

Astrea…please do not hate what you see.

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✧ PETRO ASTREA
 Posted: Aug 24 2017, 06:56 PM
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???? • Virgoan Celestial • Remembrance • Queens, NYC, NY


There was dread in Petro’s stomach, the butterflies started to flutter their wings. His stomach was not one to usually react this way when in a dangerous situation, but this was different. It wasn’t like he had a barrel pointed at his forehead or was on the edge of a bottomless pit. He was facing someone that reminded him of an important person from his past. A pillar of his training, someone who would have been on the top of the guest list if Petro’s constellation would have survived long enough for the wedding. He couldn’t be attached to such fantasies, he had to keep reminding himself. He never had hope his friends or family could survive the catastrophe, but why is this time different. Why did the horrible feeling of hope start to ebb and flow through this being.

Petro saw the figure step forward, it was him. He talked again, but Petro just stared at him. Stuck in shock, it couldn’t be. He could remember the training regimes that pushed his mind and body to its limits, all the time spent trying to recreate the Scorpii mist cover until finally able to replicate it with his terrakinesis, and of course how much he and Tars got along, their bond that….that was still there. He felt emotions swell in him it was a cavalcade of emotions. There was shock of course, he couldn’t take his eyes off his face, it was just…he couldn’t believe he was seeing him again. He took a moment to come back to earth and keep processing it. There was also frustration on his part, if his Jihi was here, he should have looked for him. Thousands of years wasted. The next were a mix of relief and alertness, he wanted to believe it, he wanted to reach out, but he wasn’t sure. He feared this was just a cruel trick of the mind.

“He’s dead…what is this some illusion.”
Petro said backing up, his voice held a lack of confidence, being a touch lower. He couldn’t be that lucky, he was never that fortunate. It wasn’t possible. The only possibility was that this was some attempt at deception. “What is it a shapeshifting ghost, a cursed valley, or maybe I finally went insane?” They were all more logical explanations, more likely. But, his frustration with himself still lingered, he wanted this to be his Jihi. He wanted him to have survived somehow, but it could never afford to be an optimist. He didn’t deserve the relief and happiness it came with.

CARMA
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✧ ANTARES
 Posted: Aug 25 2017, 11:40 PM
Quote
Unknown • Scorpii Cyborg • Dedication • Unknown


I've become
a simple souvenir of someone's kill
NOTES: PETRO ASTREA || NO GOD IT HURTS MORE

If he reached out, he knew this phantom vision would not disappear. It was not a phantom at all; scanners told him that this man was physical, was real, that he was present. That he was real. All this time….how long?…on earth, he had been here….alone? Had he integrated into the world, much as Geminar had? This entire time…had he known about anyone else’s survival, or was he completely…alone? The war…was he involved? Was he aware of it? Did he know of the Anti-Guardians’ prized weapon of war, Scorpius? It was a waiting game. Antares had said his piece. Now it was up to-

He’s dead…what is this, some illusion?

Antares had no heart to stop beating, nor to sink with the heaviness of burdened feeling. He had no eyes to well with a salty sting and threaten to overflow. His throat was rigid and could not feel tight and closed with heavy dread. But all the same a phantom weight bore down upon him. He’s dead…words that sometimes made their way to his mind. I am dead. I have died. He had known that it was true; after all, had he been left to his own devices…had he not been taken apart and forced into this machine body…Antares would not have survived. Yet despite accepting that as truth, he had also come to terms with the knowledge that he was still himself, that a part of him lived on in a new existence. But to hear his own words repeated back at him from the tongue of one of his own Shohi….

He is dead. You are dead, Jihi.

Then this was the feeling of despair. He had felt it in respect to others, despairing for Alhena’s wellbeing during that month of hell. But this was the first time he had felt it for himself.

He wasn’t really sure…how to respond. What…did he say to that?

He wanted to….prove to him, that he was real. But how…

Only one choice.

There was no….real thought that went into the action; Antares simply moved on instinct – closing the distance quickly, placing a hand on each of Petro’s shoulders; on the off chance that he was wrong…that it was not him…he could easily apply force to keep him immobilized, but for now, his hands rested – gently, but firmly.

”This time it is no trick. I am as real as you. I swear it in the name of the Three.” Though he himself followed no religion, he was aware of the customs of the Virgoan. To swear by the three…would that be enough to prove to him? If he knew of the Three, surely he was not an illusion.
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✧ PETRO ASTREA
 Posted: Aug 26 2017, 10:44 PM
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???? • Virgoan Celestial • Remembrance • Queens, NYC, NY


Petro couldn’t believe Jihi Tueri was standing before. He had spent years trying to distance himself from his past. He focused on anything else, how the human developed society, how there were always things do on earth, how he had places to go. he could never bare the notion of hoping his allies and friend had escaped. He hardly escaped the apocalypse on his own, it was only from the Virgo system’s tainted gifts that he could slip around without notice. But what benefits would others have had, how would they have been able to travel here. Yes they could have stolen ship with long space travel capabilities, but how many would head towards a backwater planet that had yet to find deep space travel? His mind had to run all of it logical process, showing that by sheer luck and probability this occurrence was impossible, miracles weren’t….they couldn’t be especially with these odds.

He felt Tars touch his shoulder, it was so familiar. A pat for a good training session, a gentle but firm touch when he would give him critical advice, or the usual subtle show of affection between brothers- in-arms. It was a familiar pat that held meaning, and the saying, it wasn’t something that an illusion or ghost could just sum up. They had no knowledge of the Virgo culture but Tars did. He found himself shaking from those feeling bottle up in him, the regret, relief, sadness, happiness, nostalgia, and too many others for him to identify his eyes lay on the ground unable to truly conceive his Jihi was standing before him. So much time, so many questions he had to ask, but none of them could escape his lungs. He held his breath, trying to regain his composure. “jihi…” His hand wiped at his eyes, he never thought he would speak those words again. He took a breath reigning in his emotions. “how long…?”

CARMA
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✧ ANTARES
 Posted: Aug 29 2017, 01:10 AM
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Unknown • Scorpii Cyborg • Dedication • Unknown


I've become
a simple souvenir of someone's kill
NOTES:PETRO ASTREA || PLEASE OMG MY HEART UGH.

It was…surreal. And yet, it was real. This moment…perhaps one of the few benefits to come of his new form was that his perceptions could not be fooled; what was real could be scanned and identified. The face before him…the human in front of him…was flesh and blood, was real, was there. He was alive. And Antares wasn’t sure if he felt more pain or joy at that knowledge. The pain came not from seeing Astrea, but from the understanding of his circumstances; he, too, had survived the war, had watched others fall, and he could see it. Etched into his shohi’s face were scars, deep emotional scars that marred his features with such sorrow.

For one as serious and stoic as Antares had been, it was strange how easily he could read that pain.

Beneath his firm compassionate hold, he could feel the Virgoan shuddering, shaking, as though abruptly made fragile and weak. But he was far from it. Antares knew he was more than that; it was not weakness that bored into him, that made him tremble; it was the sheer power of his heart, desperate with emotion that Astrea kept to himself – much in the way Antares did. Antares fought to retain his composure; he was addressing his shohi – he had to remain strong, had to keep his emotions in check. Astrea was allowed to shatter in his hold, but Antares…could not. He wanted to…desperately…wanted to pull Astrea closer, but he resisted that urge; it was too soon, too much at once.

”Shohi Astrea.” His own response came calmly, but there was a smile on his lips that broke with both joy and sorrow at once. This close…Astrea would be able to see; the implants where eyes should be, the wired cords that ran from the base of his ear and sank into his collarbone…the strangeness of his touch. He would ask…when he was ready. ”…I do not know how long. I was not...I was…asleep for an undetermined length of time. Years….it must have been years.” He looked over Astrea fondly, tilting his head as he reached with one hand, catching the moisture that remained clinging to his eyelashes, using his powers to draw the tears away. ”Tell me…everything you are comfortable to share.”
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✧ PETRO ASTREA
 Posted: Nov 1 2017, 10:14 PM
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???? • Virgoan Celestial • Remembrance • Queens, NYC, NY


How could it be? He felt this way..... so relieved and open. Petro never liked to be open and honest about feelings and all that crap. There was no point to it, he would rather process it in his own way like the aloof weirdo he is. By the Three, he was even trained to operate that way, it was a perk of being in his old line of work. But there was this strange feeling that overcame him, Tars was here his Jihi was standing here in the flesh and breathing. He wasn't like his comrades or his fiancé, he was actually here. A heavy sigh escaped his lungs as if some of the weight of his shoulders just lightened to something more manageable. The loneliness and self-isolation was something he thought he could bare, he had for centuries, but this old face of his mentor, it reminded him just how draining such an existence was.

Petro took a breath, he needed to regain some form of composure and control. He looked at Tars, the organic and inorganic areas of his body meshed together seamlessly. It looked Scorpii in design, which raised a variety of questions in his mind. He dared not ask them not yet, a fear lay deep within him to jinx this moment. Frankly the method in which Jihi Teuri survived the fall of Scorpii was not a concern at this point in time, Antares being alive and well was all he cared about.

Petro took a breath. Everything he was comfortable sharing? That was tall order he wanted to gush about his experience the sad ones, the woeful ones, the moments of happiness in between. It was all too much in his emotional state. "Let me take a moment I have so much to tell you…escaping Virgo, living with the humans, losing Amika. It is …" He trailed off taking a breath. Then looking his Jihi in the eye as if to make sure ihe isn't an illusion that was going to drop away. "Where should I start?"

CARMA
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✧ ANTARES
 Posted: Nov 7 2017, 11:37 PM
Quote
Unknown • Scorpii Cyborg • Dedication • Unknown


I've become
a simple souvenir of someone's kill
NOTES:PETRO ASTREA || Aaaagh my heart :c

It had been so long since Antares had been able to call himself….Jihi. Even in this moment…he was not certain he deserved the title. Not after his failures. He remembered them clearly, his squad, on the day of the attack, he had sent them away, sabotaging their ships and programming an escape route into their computers’ navigation system. He had forced them to leave him behind to fight alone with his sister. He had left communications open, listened to the screams and pleading voices – anything to keep their voices in his mind – until the attack on the munitions facility below ruptured his end, leaving him alone once more. He had hoped at the time that they had survived.

In the end, he, the traitor, the one who stayed back on the forsaken planet, had been the one to live. But then, if their fate would have been his….he was glad that of all fates…they had not received this.

He let each of them die. He had failed them as their Captain. And here, now…

Alive. Shohi Astrea….was alive.

He could see Petro’s gaze upon him, curious and wary. No doubt he wondered how Antares had become…this. Not human, but not machine. A vile amalgamation of both. He spoke not a word, though, his shohi…was kind enough not to pry, at least not yet. But he knew…that it was a story he would have to tell. He feared what Petro might think….what he might do. No matter what he could not be allowed to seek out Tiberius. Not yet. Not now. She was dangerous as she was.

And if she got her hands on Astrea….

No. Not another one. Never again.

He nodded as Astrea pleaded with him for…a moment, for time, to compose himself. He understood very well; both…they both had much to tell, he knew. Their stories were tragedies…and so he too knew he would need to steel himself. But for now silence, a moment to think, was allowed. He moved closer, remaining near his shohi as though afraid he would simply vanish. The question was not surprising, with so much to tell….he could only imagine he was unsure of where to begin. Antares thought for a moment, tilting his head. ”Ordinarily my preference is for chronology,” he began softly, his voice low. ”But I must know….how it is you made it to this planet…and survived. If that knowledge…is permissible.”

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✧ PETRO ASTREA
 Posted: Apr 16 2018, 12:17 AM
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???? • Virgoan Celestial • Remembrance • Queens, NYC, NY


There was usually hesitation when he recounted his escape. So, few have heard it that he could count the number on his hands. It wasn’t something he liked to shared even if it has replayed in his head ever time he shuts his eyes. It was the usual story he gave when he met a celestial so it shouldn’t have been this hard to phrase, but Tars wasn’t another Golden Age survivor. He was someone he felt open with he could bare the details to his old master. Petro wondered if his mind could bare recounting it aloud, as if it made the tragedy of the past, hold so much more weight. His eyes looked to his Jihi for a moment and gave a nod.

“From the reports I was looking at, I suspect the Nightmare Men attacked the upper echelons of the Virgoan society. After that there was no chain of command, no planetary defense, just anarchy. We were sitting ducks honestly. At the time, I was unaware. I had just finished a mission with some Hydra people and dream pirates that had me in the outer reaches of the Virgo constellation. Then news and reports were going crazy when I finally plugged back into society, so to speak.” He could remember the buzzing notification of the breaking news and panicked voices as chaos had started to eat away at nation.

“Anchors and reports were in hysteria reporting on mass nightmare men attacks. The military was compromised, my department was silent, and air brigade was in ruins. Amika called me and gave the scoop.” Saying her name made him feel so dirty, especially given she was mentored by Tars. The guilt was still there, weighing heavy on his heart. His eyes adverted his jihi, wanting to look at the dirt instead. “I went to retrieve her, she was injured so she was not with the Bastion for weeks. I had an insane plan with the scattered information the Virgoan government had gathered on Earth. I figured I could save her an we could live here… I was 10 seconds too late. She was…” He paused he didn’t want to paint the scene. He couldn’t forgive himself for putting her down like some animal. Her pleads for him to ends her life still haunted his dreams, but he couldn’t tell their old jihi of the impossible choice he had to make. He always regretted not dying with her instead.

“Sorry.” Petro rubbed a hand through his hair. He let out a sigh, the emotion draining from his voice, he started to speak more matter-of-factly about the events. It was the Virgo habit after all. “I left the apartment and came here of my own accord. Cut it close with the fuel and crash landed my ship in the Pyrenees. I’m more of a software guy, so the physical damage of the ship was too much for me to figure out so I hid the ship and mostly kept the earth from claiming it. Since then I had been studying the humans, joining their society when I thought it looked fun and yadda yadda.” He gave Tars a shrug. It was most of what any of them could do. Try to live with what happened and move on with their sorry existence. He didn’t need to cry out of sadness, punch something out of anger, or any of the like. He could express himself when he was alone, and optimally not losing face in front of his old mentor. This was a momentous occasion. They were united again.

“What of you Jihi? What do you do on this planet to pass the time. I am sort of a detective for now. I was an architect and reporter in the past.” Earth allowed him to chase other fields, it was one of the few perks living here instead of the Virgo Constellation.

@CARMA
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