Luxura
Thirteenth Mystic ♥Art by Peritwinkle♥
Alexei Pavlovsky
alias: CAIN
health bar
WHERE: Engineering Lab
WITH: Ephemera
DOING: Bickering
CREDIT: maria_lahaine
PLAYLIST:
WITH: Ephemera
DOING: Bickering
CREDIT: maria_lahaine
PLAYLIST:
He hadn’t worked on his prized suit for some time. There hadn’t been much need since much of New Londontown’s supernatural influence had waned with the burning of Cheapside. Cain had only had small opportunities in private training to truly work with the Seraphim technology and yearned eagerly to test it out in real, full combat once they landed in New Orleans. Provided, of course, that they weren’t stuck finding their mark as soon as they arrived.
Much of what the Legionnaire set his mind to was improving the flaws and trying out new configurations of accessories or armour plating. Once a day he would train with the suit, keeping himself fresh and knowledgable about the way it moved with his body. For nearly a year he’d perfected his craft; body and mind blending as one with the suit’s built-in venous system. With its help, Cain could outlast most in athleticism from the electrolyte filtration. The pinch of morphine, admittedly, also did wonders to keep his spirits high when the threat of pain was lessened.
As much as Alexei loved the suit, he couldn’t deny there was an aversion to it as well. His creation brought him incredible pride in his own capabilities as a Legionnaire-- he’d designed the whole things from the concept drawing to the schematic blueprints, to cutting and welding every single plate of steel on it. Everything was purposed and bespoke to him, by him. But Jonah’s influences in its capabilities was where the Russian felt disdain. The concept of the venous system was glorious in theory, but he’d never been fond of the implications of it; especially since it made him sick every time he used it in great quantity. The surgery to install the implant connectors along his lithe frame had not been kind either, from what he could recall of the memory. He spent much of his time that month in the infirmary getting familiar with fluid injections, bloodletting… and the toilet.
The morning had been quiet, and he’d been happy to have his station situated in the back of the Lab as to not be interrupted in his work as others arrived for their duties. Though, he had been keen not to miss the clear assignment of Troxler at the station across his partition and found himself curious as to when the pesky blond would arrive. After last night’s little firecracker moment, Cain felt he needed to make sure his Engineer had some fun; a particular plan formulated in his mind.
The first hour Alexei worked alone. He always thrived better in solitude, where his mind could think freely without distraction or looming gazes of his peers. His desire only was to be working on his latest experiment in the power of electrical current direction for his solar core. The trick would be to harness and control the static, channel it down through the arm and create a conductive cell that could pull from the core at will. The result would be electricity at his fingertips-- Literally.
As the morning began to tick onward, engineers trickled into the Lab, finding their respective stations and getting to work on repairs. Flashy in his vermillion-coated suit, the Russian stood out like a sore thumb to each person who entered; a little jolt to their system, but otherwise unperturbed.
Cain was the only Legionnaire to function so well with his prior background that he had his own space in the Lab otherwise reserved for the technicians. Others in his faction and that of the Sisters would slip in and out for fittings, or to pick up or drop pieces, but none of them ever lingered. Legionnaires were trained to make quick repairs. They were technically savvy and often excelled in areas of mathematics and science. However, their purpose was to kill, and they gave themselves to become monsters for their God. The Blood Sisters were goddesses of tact and warfare with the supernatural. They did not busy themselves with as much augmentation but rather flexed their prowess in training and upgrading their weaponry to tame the immortal beasts.
With the grace of the Overseer, Cain had been saved from making changes to his body, as his slight form allowed him an edge over the other more brutish Brothers. The suit enhanced him in ways a mortal man could only dream of, while still retaining his handsome physique.
Sensing the ship becoming alive with activity, more and more heads bobbed past the large windows of the Lab doors. He’d skipped breakfast, finding the mornings when he worked on his gear to be best on an empty stomach-- he’d have less to wretch later. Instead, he would nourish himself in the noon hour, often absolutely ravenous.
This morning had been no different. The peckish tinges in his stomach were beginning to pull at his concentration. And for the better, as he peered over his shoulder at the large clock hung above the Storage Room. His roommate would be arriving at any minute.
Cain cleaned up his station of any debris and leaned back against the desk, his stance neutral as he closed his eyes. To the outside observer, one would be curious as to why he’d left and propped his suit up in such a manner, but for those that knew Cain’s notorious antics, one could never be too careful that the devil wasn’t still inside. With careful consideration, he flicked the switch on his chest under the solar core, and felt the draw into his implants become slower, the hum of the electricity softening; and the light it emitted receding to black.
It felt like an hour had passed, but the moment Cain heard soft footsteps approaching his area, his eyes flicked alive under the helm of his guise. Ephemera, in all his ethereal grace. As if he heard the Legionnaire’s thoughts, the blond looked towards him with a critical gaze, rolling his eyes in distaste.
Good, at least they were on the same page about working with one another.
Watching the blond begin to open and unpack his belongings, the Legionnaire shifted to lift his head, easing the heaviness upon his neck. The single movement was just enough to catch in the peripheral of René’s honey-glazed gaze, and in that moment Cain’s lips pulled into a Cheshire’s grin. A smile the other would never see behind the plated mask, of course, and likely for the better-- It had enough darkness to run blood cold.
In his element, René had an air of casual peace about him. Nothing could permeate him here. There was a softness to his eyes, a smoothness in his brow. Even the comforts of a smile just barely at the corners of pale lips. It was nearly a pity that Cain saw beauty in the other’s visage, it would make the final act almost bittersweet.
At every opportunity, the Russian inched his body more upright. The Engineer’s vision obscured or back turned was a second he could shift to his full height off the workbench without a sound. Within minutes Cain had found himself standing erect, no more than a foot away from the table, and only a few more from the partition that separated him from his toy.
His moment finally came. Troxler moved with diligence towards the shelving unit nearest the partition, and the Legionnaire lunged forward, gripping the rail of the dividing wall menacingly. His reward for such patience was sinfully sweet-- more than he could have anticipated-- and he bellowed a venomous, outrageous fit of laughter. René shrieked in fear and surprise, thrust back into the bench.
Between sinister giggled, he unlatched the locking mechanism and peeled off the helmet of the Seraphim, cool air washing over his flamboyant features and dark periwinkle eyes,
“Oh, you really will be the death of me, Troxler.” he sighed, grinning from ear to ear.
He held the other’s gaze, watching with amusement as he grappled with himself to make a retaliation. The fire in the Legionnaire’s eyes was a taunt, welcoming it. He wasn’t surprised that the blond didn’t try his luck,
“Get over yourself. You’re not the first victim of my curious mind. Lighten up.” Cain shrugged as he turned back to his station, the other engineers, too, letting their nosey leers fall away back to quiet work.
The tension in the air heightened, electrifying and sizzling. The Russian could nearly feel the rolling rage off the blond behind him, and it pleased him immensely. But, his desire for revenge had been sated, and the raven-haired devil began to set about finishing his work for the morning.
Nimble fingers moved over the latches that kept the suit together across his chest and abdomen, unbuckling the halves of heavy canvas, steel and wire casings. With practiced movements, he manually unclipped the plugs from the implants at his chest and with some wriggling managed to do the same with the ones along his spine, leaving only the pairs at his wrists and pelvis intact. Relief was a melody that passed from his lips in a soft sigh. The suit ran hot, and Cain breathed deeply at the crispness of the air as it brushed across the light layer of sweat that glistened his bare torso. Happy to be free, he pulled up a stool to the bench and pulled over the small cart of tools and wiring spools, eyes tight with focus. The sooner he was finished, the sooner he could eat.
Another thirty minutes had passed over the Lab of diligent minds hard at work. Cain’s forearm lay upon the table’s surface as he worked over the glove, the putrid scent of hot metal arising from his sautering wire connectors together. He was so close! He could feel the excitement of a coming meal push him to continue. Even if the results weren’t correct, at least the foundations would be in place and a few rounds of adjustments over the next day would have him ready for real testing.
He had just begun to make some minor wiring adjustments when his attention snapped away to Ephemera’s hand yanking hard enough on the Seraphim glove he was still connected into to pull the Legionnaire forward off the stool. Cain’s eyes ignited immediately, but he recoiled at the heated reprimand that exploded from the other’s mouth. The longer René continued, the deeper his brows furrowed, and quickly that ire crept back into Cain’s ocean eyes.
Looking past his shoulder, all eyes were upon them, some expressions smug, the other’s curious but unreadable. All the same, there was a collective satisfaction that someone was putting the diabolical Legionnaire in his place, publicly at that.
Cain’s body shook, “WHAT?!” he roared at them lividly, each set of eyes looking away quickly for fear they’d be next to feel his wrath.
Chilled eyes flicked back to the Engineer, hoping to freeze over the suns in his glare,
“For being the Lead Engineer, you are incredibly uneducated in the Overseer’s prized weapon.” he scoffed, “Of course I’m aware, you fucking idiot. I’m a risktaker, not a suicide case.”
He snarled as slender fingers plied at his efforts and cradled his wrist as it was thrown back at him. The pull had ripped painfully at the implant, leaving him sore and the area throbbing at the injection site. Evenly, he levelled his gaze and tone,
“The suit has a neutral running point. As long as the venous system is attached in half capacity, it goes into stasis. I can run the core at ten percent power based on a combination of the human body’s natural conduction and thermoelectric generation. I become the battery and save the solar core’s charge levels. I draw enough from it to test my ideas without the risk of malfunction, or stupidity.”
He shook his head firmly, “Not a chance, no one works on the suit but me. While I’d like to think those were Jonah’s orders, they are my personal rules. If I need your opinion, I’ll ask of it. But since I don’t trust you, my work stays under my control until I see the quality of your craft. Ponimayu?*” the Russian sneered as he stepped forward, intruding threatening on the blond’s personal space,
“Besides, if you wanted me undressed, you only needed to ask. This is all a bit too dramatic, even for me.”
*"Understand?"
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