Welcome to Gaia! ::

Long days and longer nights marked the days of a general; this was the simple fact of the lives that they lived. It was perhaps ironic that the senshi and the Negaverse both spent so little time doing the things that would have really defined them as the young adults they were intended to be. Instead, uniforms transformed them from people who might otherwise be out taking in a movie or fumbling with each other in the proud traditions of young romance.

Instead they wandered the streets at night either gathering energy and lives, or fighting to stop the gathering of that energy and taking the lives of the ‘would be’ takers.

He lifted his gaze from the civilian he had just finished arranging beside the bar, one of a group of them really, artistically piled together as though they had had far too much to drink and tumbled into an embarrassing drunken pile.

He felt the energy of another General and that was, in itself an uncommon thing when it came to the scope of the Negaverse itself. He hadn’t seen Scheelite in some time, and he didn’t believe most other people patrolled quite this area, so he had a few guesses on who it probably was as he stood and made his tired way to greet them.

No, no surprise in truth, to see Wolframite diligently plying their trade. There was some interest to note the heavy dark rings under the young man’s eyes that by far exceeded his own overtired gaze. “General.” He called as soon as he was sure that the effort to catch his attention would not go amiss.

Zinkenite hesitated for a moment, most likely remembering as well as wolfram how their last encounter had turned out. At last though he nodded and gave an approving wave to the new uniform. “Congratulations I see are in order General!”

His voice had a rasp of tired to it, not perhaps as much as Wolframs did, he doubted very much that anyone could match that. “I think I’ve about finished for the evening, would you care to join me over dinner at the ‘Benny’s’ dinner or something else that holds it doors open at this hour?

Zinkenite powered down to the familiar form of Zac. “Least greasy place I know and you can order anything at any hour, makes it rather ideal when your schedule shifts as much as ours does I think.” He paused considering. “In fact I’m fairly sure they have a vegetable burger that actually qualifies as palatable.”

It was a slight tease, dancing around the idea of rank and promotions. What did you say when someone said they didn’t think they would make it this far? It could either be ‘of course you would’ or, a question about if they didn’t think they would survive this long.

“You’re very capable, you’re not about to run from a fight, you have a great deal to recommend you to the post of General, I think you’ll make a very good team when you choose one as well.” He offered with a nod. “There are many things about you that recommend you far better to the post than me, at least if you ascribe to the oldest ‘suggestions’ about being a suitable general.” He said with a wry smile. They both, after all came from the days of actual star seeds, hiding bodies and selecting your victim.

“No…I’m defiantly not more capable.” He said with a serious edge to his voice. “Not in the least. “We can compromise and say we are each ‘differently capable’, how is that?” He offered an amused look, stuffing hands into his pockets and slumping his shoulders just slightly. It made him seem just a little shorter and a great deal less noticeable. The kind of pose that made your gaze slides off onto more confidant people, at least most of the time. His eyes never quite drive that home; they were far too piercing even now.

“This way…” he said and lead them to the diner, it stood apart, one of the few not topped by apartments and offices. Probably due to the hours that it kept, and through the large glass window you could see sleepy patrons crouched over steaming coffee cups as they struggled with the last vestiges of a night’s slumber or the reality that they still have a great deal of time before they could lay their heads down to rest.

The door, red and old sported a scuffed and dented brass boot-board and a well-polished brass door handle. Bells chimed and clattered as Zac opened the door and ushered you into the warm interior, it smelled lightly of coffee and the lingering aroma of apple pie mingling with hot sausage and fresh pancakes. The single visible waitress at this hour bustled about with an alert determined air that was somehow bolstered by the gingham blue uniform and starched white apron she wore. She appeared beside the table like a djin as soon as you both slid into one of the smaller booths to take your drink orders and lay out fresh paper placemats and utensils.

“How y’all? My name is Shana an I’ll be yer waitress, you want to hear the specials or you wana look a bit first?” She said her name with an odd break made in part by the thick wedge of bubblegum she had tucked into her cheek and part the heavy vestige of an accent she was unlikely to ever bother to try and be free of.

“She’s early mornings, but the gum is recent, I think she’s quitting smoking, she used to smell of wet ash.” He said with a small shrug as he watched her go. “Also she keeps rolling her pen through her first two fingers and tapping it. I’m betting she misses holding it.” He stopped, looking like he’d said too much.

“They make some nice dinners like the turkey one, they’ll leave off anything you dislike, pretty good with adding what you do, well made scrambled eggs too if you like them.” He paused rubbing at his eyes with the palm of his hand, grateful in a way to be out of uniform though his guard wasn’t down.

He glanced up at Ladon and added. “My treat this time alright?”

“If you want to order more to take back, do it, they do ‘to go’ boxes.” He said blinking over the table and then tilted his head at the menu. “I need to get a place…maybe you can help me find one instead of dinner. I haven’t had time to look.” He shook his head frustrated. “And I don’t want to go back to ‘the house’, I think I’d do something regrettable.” A thoughtful pause before he added. “Well, mostly regrettable.”

“What would you like?” He asked, he figured on getting something from the same ‘meal’ zone just to make it easier on the cooks, why not? “…I hate to say it, but I think I’m going to order coffee.” He made a face as he said the word like it was one of those ‘cardinal sins’, a deep affront to a ‘steadfast tea drinkers’ code

“Somewhere where I won’t be elbow to elbow with the other people would be amazing.” He said and shuddered at the idea of a press of people. “I like the rest of it but I’d rather find ways to deflect questions than have my mother raising too many about where I’m staying. She might be a lush but she has too many friends to make this an easy choice.”
His lip curled at the thought of her, beating down his door with accusations and admonishments how he was ‘living his life’. As though she had any idea…as though she cared about more than the pleasure she derived from screaming at people.

“I don’t know… step above brushing shoulders with drug dealers might be nice or I might succumb to the desire to improve society at large.” He said with a slight twitch at the corner of his eye. He’d done plenty of ‘hunting’ in the red light district when they still collected star seeds.

“Just my mother.” He said firmly, and that word alone carried not so much feelings of ‘family’ or even a remote level of affection. It was more of a ‘the woman who just happened to bring me into this world though we would very much like to take each other out of it’ kind of feel. Whatever the woman did or however they got ‘along’ it wasn’t good. “If I stay there –something- will happen and it’ll just raise too many inconvenient questions.”

He shook his head. “I wormed my way into a little time left at Hillworth, it’s not like their too desperate for space or I’d have been given a new roomie after Dem left. It worked out but it’s temporary, even with the ‘negotiations’ I had set up. I just had too much else to do to make it a good argument.