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Albite hadn't needed as much help to find Faustites office this time. He remembered the number, the general pathway there, and while he continually abhorred relying on anyone else at all to get into the damned place; the space, the castle, the whole of it. What he didn't mind? Was bullying some wouldbe Captain or Lt. to suffer his presence long enough to help him once he was present. He'd made a point of it now, to gain as much pleasure as possible from annoying the ******** out of whatever simpering sucker lurked just beyond the offices - snagging someone from the filing and information department.

Hooking some little bereaved desk jockey into piling his demands onto their obviously overloaded plate; though Albite had a sinking suspicion that some of them existed just as much for looks as they did for anything else. Form over function, pleasure over practice. Albite almost could've admired whoever had picked out a pretty one and turned 'em. However useless they would have been to an actual war effort - just because they wanted a cute secretary who'd look good in a uniform and some heels.

He'd never cease to get a kick out of the way the strung out little filigrees disguised as people would tense up once they realized exactly where he was leading them. Their offense and tension nearly a palatable thing, something he could taste and smell. The visual appeal of seeing the tick in their slender little jaws, indrawing of shoulders; the gears of their minds switching from roles of annoyed dutybound subordinates who didn't wanna piss off the very big man - into survival mode.

Hairpin triggers on fight or flight as the poor souls stopped hearing Albites endless drawl, and actually paid attention to their surroundings. The clipped and clever little steps, slowing, and finally stopping as it inevitably dawned on them that Albite was leading them down into hell with a smile so full of cheer it bordered on manic.

"You can go now blondie, I can get there from here." and Albite marveled at a widening of teal eyes from the slender little fawn of an Lt., fear and curiosity warring briefly in them until they'd fled completely.

Albite laughed all the way into Faustites office - forwent any pretense at respectability or proper protocols. This time a box clearly labeled tous les jours was cradled under his arm, filled to the brim with soft flavorful breads and cream rolls. Tucked in just beneath that a pair of simple beige folders. Each one messily labeled 'favors' - with little else to give away what was inside. Aside from the fact that it was all clearly paper, noted only by the rustle of the scrunched manila coloring against Albites side, where the documents within just barely survived being crushed by the box.

"Sup boss man? How'd the night go, did'ja sleep good?" Albites grin a slice of pleasure edged with something else, frustration and alertness in one. He'd been up since early, that much was clear, and he seemed to almost vibrate with excess energy. "Got something for ya - yanno - fuel for the fires n' all that." the box of baked goods ended up on the corner of the desk, and the pair of files lay beneath it like an afterthought. Favor 1 - Favor 2.

If Albite noted the ebony crescents that graced the fair skin just beneath his Generals eyes, he said nothing of it. Instead imagined pressing his thumbs just there, against the deep set shadows like smudged mascara, and how he would’ve liked to rub the tension out and remind him he had options, insofar as a decent nightcap went…

Instead he grinned and watched him move, flamed purpose, and it was a wonder to him that Faustite had become a living pyre rather than a cat. For all the similar mannerisms he displayed that made him think his General held some ancient mauvian DNA deep in the core of his starseed.

Or maybe that was just how a man moved when he governed, and owned the whole of the space around him - catlike - cat adjacent?

A creature who knew those around him were simply there to entertain, to be amusing for handfuls of moments until he tired of them. Albite marveled at it, personally endeavored to never be the sort of person Faustite would tire of, and his firebrand was a good gauge of his ability to be someone worth engaging with.

“You know I wanna give you options firebrand, don’t ever wanna impose limitations.” A wink and knowing grin set on his face. He was well aware that his favor only entailed the one thing, that he’d gone over it after the dragon man - that he’d pushed the whole of it up until later and simply informed him that he ‘wanted’ something, and that it would take him time to get it together in a way that would have been presentable to Faustite.

“Their uh…” and how had Syrus put it when he’d handed everything down to him? Dossiers - thought he word profile and resume felt equally applicable. Not that he’d ever had much experience with writing out either. He hadn’t compiled them, because neither of his friends would ever have trusted him with any form of detail work. He didn’t know what the breadth and width of what they contained, had only learned the bare basics after hastily going over them on his way to and from their respective places that morning.

Albite had phrased it as requisitioning information for the purposes of a future job interview. He wondered at the fact that the only parts they’d seemed to scrutinize were the ones where he’d gushed over his enjoyment of being under someone; or maybe it had been his poor phrasing that had them suddenly interested and asking questions.

“Info packets - is probably the best way to describe what’s in these.” As Faustite busied himself with his kettle and water so to did Albite busy himself with carefully laying open each individual file, and presenting its contents. Full resumes, reference sheets, cover letters and cover photos that looked like something an actor would have provided - and albite had deliberately ensured anything available could have been easily burned afterwards - depending on which direction Faustite swayed.

“This…” and Albites gaze lingered hungry over the spread pages, fingers skimmed delicate edges of colorful headshots. “I want this…no questions asked, just like you promised? You pick one today - we’ll go work my a** off after - n’ then we bring ‘em into the fold when the timing works out best for you.” And the honeyed eyes that had held hunger for the images in the documents, held voracity for Faustite. Unquenched greed apparent in the width of his smile, the slight creases at the corners of his eyes. What Albite was asking for, what his favor entailed? All boiled down to being given another persons life, and Faustites specific abilities as a General to grant that life over to him. To drag someone new into the depths of the Negaverse, so Albite could place them at his side.

“Whatever’s in these - this is all that you get - I can go over it, what’s in here, but anything more then that?” A slow shake of his head for that, dreads dragging heavy across bare shoulders.

"Nah, I just picked the two hottest faces offa the nicest dating site, got the rest from a linkden page." Sarcasm and tease rolled into one, rolled off the tongue with ease and Albite couldn't keep his grin down for the amusement of it.

"Of course I know 'em firebrand - M'not a kidnapper, don't want anyone who doesn't also want all of this." A twist of his wrist and splaying of fingers at the whole of the place, encompassing himself and Faustite in equal measure. Albite had always thought of it more as recruitment than corruption.

He wondered if Faustite thought it odd, that he'd know the pair of polar opposites he posed before his General; but Albite, and subsequently Waru had never been the type to judge over looks, stature, or status. He had his own merits and ideals he held to. A view of things that would seem skewed to anyone else, non-sensicle even, for what he saw as valuable in others.

"Trouble picking? If you ask real nice, maybe I'll give just a little more info than what's in here...." Albite tilted his head in query, and grinned like a shark. Wanted to tease and test; impatient enough tot tempt himself with breaking his own rules just to get a sense of things. It was impossible to tell what Faustite wanted just by looking at him. So Albite talked, goaded until the banked blazing stares and clipped phrases eventually became actions. He spoke that language the best, the dialect of actions, of motion and force; it was his mother tongue.

Albite hummed noncommittally, and he hadn't considered it before, the kidnapping aspect. He likely wouldn't have. Not over something so personal to him, especially not when the favor held such weight and meaning. Albite knew that willing was better than not, knew that in his soul, in his godamned starseed. He was tired of meeting people who hadn't chosen anything at all, and following that? Played the role of victim eternal; too many dead eyes and dull minds. All gossamer sheen and sparkly tissue paper wrapping, that veiled human beings who were little more than cases full of broken glass -sugar spun- if it'd rained they'd have melted away. If you shook them too hard they shattered.

Albite could only wince at the thought of all the poor souls who would serve as little more than pretty desk ornaments; or only slightly more useful than that, quota chasers. He was almost proud of Faustites choice. He knew either of the men he'd offered up would have been good. Would've been perfect for a myriad of deeply personal reasons to him, but he was almost glad Faustite was choosing without meeting either of them face to face beforehand. Faustite maybe didn't want someone he thought on paper, could only function as a pretty secretary.

It figured to him, that maybe his General wanted someone who could've been the type of brains that packed a punch. Someone well rounded and balanced that could pick up all the loose slack where Albite lacked; where Albite would always lack.

However wickedly street smart and beguiling his amant was-

"S'why I like you firebrand, ******** the niceties yeah? M'hopin this one turns over easy, don't wanna be too much of a drain on you." Albite made a motion of gathering up the folder containing Aramis's information, slid it all neatly back into place, and started in on tearing the folder into halves, fourths, eights. Shredded it between his fingers until it was so much confetti - and he only considered flicking the papers at Faustites fires for a moment - before scrunching the pieces into a compact ball of paper between his large palms.

Busied himself with the motion of it, found making the little shredded bits into a snowball shape almost soothing. Syrus's information was left available for Faustite to file, fire; or do with as he damn well pleased. "So, with all that outta the way. What's the plan for the day?" Albite's words held nothing more than pleased undertones, because he would've clearly been happy with whatever choice Faustite would have made; in the end either choice was beneficial to him. "N' what's in the brew-Is it good?" Whatever was in the little triangle bags, he was sure it would produce some sort of heady aroma when properly steeped. Wondered what it tasted like as he didn't recognize any of it himself. Albite would file away the knowledge that Faustite was a tea guy. Would find a way to indulge him in that too, because it made sense - sweets and tea as a pairing.

It was the smells that did it for him, setting the confetti ball aside, albite leaned in, planted his palms across the glassware and breathed in the scent of it, deep honeyed humm as all of Faustites words spelled a whole bunch of 'yum'. He loved hot leaf water, blue, black, minty green. "I'm sooo gonna get you gin for your desk..no..wait..rum. Rum goes good in hot tea, especially the dark kinds." any dismay he had at not being dragged directly into the rift was easily hidden behind his own warm cup.

Soothed away with the heat and smoothness of it, puffing just over the rim with little bits of cooling air before sipping at it gingerly. The caffeine would've done him good, he'd need it clearly to keep up with his firebrands plans. The fact that the fruit came through, and he'd never liked things with ginger, or lemon in them, but apricot? Peaches? All sorts of ******** for his mouth. Seconded only by dirty chai with espresso in it, followed by his love of horchata and anything with mint or chocolate and cinnamon notes.

All of Faustites words always sounded like p l a y to him, no matter the tone or severity. His boss wanted to see how he worked, how he moved, fought and ******** ran. He couldn't tell if the heat in his face was from the liquid, or the heady thought of his firebrand's tendencies to be the most voyeuristic of types. It was probably all in Albites head, but he couldn't dissuade himself from enjoying the concept of it.

"Yeah? Heh - fun, we'll go on a city tour. Make a whole damned time of it. Mmmph, maybe I should bring my orbies along huh? Get 'em out of you're house for a bit, because I've got all sorts of places in mind..." grin megawatt, Albite ran his tongue delicately over his lips, caught any lingering taste of tea, and dove back into it, soft little slurps and smirk pressed against the rim of the heated mug.

He was proud of his babies, they normally woulda been all the hell over him. Either Faustite was teaching the wisps manners - or he'd packed 'em up to get some peace and quiet out of things.

At Faustites approval of his antics, and demand of getting gone.The liquid in his cup was drained so fast that Albite was actively wincing for it, sucking in heated air over his now slightly burnt tongue - making soft little ahhs - as breathed and hissed through it. The cup delicately put down so he could catch the key and make straight for the glass covered bookcase cabinets with joy. "Orbies!! Babies, c'mere!" swarmed by his glorbs, and slowly did they morph into one bouncy fat one - buffeted and battered by the thing bobbing about his head and through his dreads - like an overlarge gerbille with the mannerisms of a mastiff.

"Missed you sweetums~" Albite cooed, absolutely smitten with the creature, even as he was manhandling it into some semblance of order. "So, yeah, places 'n s**t - Uh..maybe a real tour after then? Like I can take you out to eat places boss man, doesn't always gotta be so serious."

Albite nudged the doors closed, and deposited the key on the glasstop surface, pondered openly where to go. "Do you know the warehouse district? Spaces round there are all kinda decrepit, fulla the best damned parties though.." oft used, easy to access, and Albite had nothing, but fond memories for it. "Man there was this one where---and I know, you woulda like'd the fawn boy she carried on her arm -- but, godamned the girl in killer velvet stiletto's."

Albite mused openly, even as he placed his hand into Faustites with easy trust; the buzzing wisp tucked securely under his other arm. "The fawn though? ******** c u t e~ "

Albite rubbed the offending smell from his nose upon arrival, scrunching it and ultimately sneezing for all his trouble. Best part of the warehouses? Outta the ******** way, less cops 'n civilians around. Downside - all the factories. Industrial workings just offa city housing limits where they wouldn't upset any of the locals.

"See, that's the thing - you're assuming it was hookers? I need to take you out more, you'd be surprised at what you can get without paying.." Faustite would've been a trip - though Albite doubted he would've enjoyed being an oddity for others. Eion though? Some choal and ******** him, but Eion would've been a stunning piece on his arm. All snide glowers and dark looks, better than everyone around him simply by being. Waru would've gotten a ******** kick out of it - a viper loosely draped across his biceps in the form of his General in human guise.

Albite shook the thought free and loosed his wisp, petting it briskly between his hands before issuing a very simple command "Keep watch for us, kay babies? Good little watchdogs - whose good little watchdogs? You are, yess you aree~" the baby talk wasn't necessary. He'd learned well enough the hard way that the wisps were smart, could do simple things. Keeping watch let them run the place, get out and about without getting into trouble - getting straight back to him if they found any.

Albite didn't want to have to multi task more than necessary. If he could have his bright lumens play sentry in geometric circles and patterns about the place. To float off and back and flash them a warning...It would've been a hell of a lot easier than dealing with Faustite and keeping a look out for any other auras who were looking for a bad time in a mostly abandoned local.

"M'focused..." in that moment at least, as the orbs bounded off on their way. Albite actually paid attention for a moment, dragged his dreads up out of his face with the neat cowry sash from the merchant. Secured them tightly even as he tilted his head curiously at Faustites directive...

The guy'd seen him attack people before? If he needed specifics..."Always need a target, seems to be the only way it works. Trick of it is? Target can be pretty much anything within reach - if I focus right..." though sometimes the magic had a will of its own, ********, magical girl flair. "Sticks, logs, poles, people. I've used it to slingshot s**t before.." and how long that reach was - Albite was never sure - he chose a target, ran at it. Magic words and s**t happened. "If you're sure firebrand. I'm all game to play, bind you up any way you want."

A sharks grin, sly slant, and the run up at Faustites still form before casting "Binding Retribution" closing the distance, because that was how it'd always worked before. Even if he didn't have a measure for the distance he needed - the magic had always screamed get close. Close enough to drag, kick, punch and yank. Anything too far, and it fizzled - went awry and snapped into angry black ribbons on nothing. When it was just right?

The pull of the bind - tautness snapped and held - tied together as one, as it should have been. He felt it, even when he had no words to explain the feel of that, knowing his magic would let neither free unless broken, either by himself, or by the enemy.

Albite wanted Faustites arm - to see the bind around a delicate wrist - or an ankle, just to be fancy. To show he had some control over things - but the magic? It roiled and snarled for the half youmas throat. Bled alive off his skin, flowed into angry rivulets of motion as it sought to latch just there. To bite around the iron collar, like teeth sunk into silken cloth.

The notion of fifteen seconds passing meant so little to him. A blink of a time span. He’d try to remember it only because it’d seemed important enough for Faustite to note it. A flash of silver watch and chain - yet far more interesting to Albite was the flash of something other in Faustites eyes. Whatever dark thing swam in the molten pools there. As the diligent General tested his abilities by degrees, rigid form and careful steps.

Albite hadn’t meant to go for his throat, and yet he had. Whatever ancient thing filled his starseed; that lay subconsciously deep in the magic that made him what he was. While it wouldn’t have won him any fight; it did make for a lovely visual.

If it were his hands instead of the magic, or real silk…He breathed thought he want of that as the ability fizzled out. Let his gaze run unabashed and curious over the whole of the firefilled mans form.

Neat little pieces clinking to the floor, chitin and silk armor being shed in layers. In that moment Albite understood his comparable nakedness in a visceral sense. Had a visual comparison to place against himself in the form of Faustites endless fastenings - buttoned up, down, and in - to every single thing. Layered and buried in ways albite never could have stood to be. The textbook definition of opposites.

Yet none of it was a deterrent, not the ichor in Faustites veins that ran so blessedly lovely beneath his alabaster pale skin, or the claw tipped blackness that etched up past elbow over it. The way the glow disappeared and the how of Faustites functioning would forever be beyond him. Like trying to puzzle out a god.

Poisoned fruit and hellfire - the whole of the man before him - beckoning him to fight. The best ******** ‘come on’ he’d ever received.

He wanted to be mad that he’d wasted an attack - wanted to crow in pleasure at Faustites cleverness for having him waste it simply on standing still. He’d never used them all before, never had to, but he was willing to test the limits of it, and how much did he have available to him? To feel the magic surge and answer his call, lesser than before, but there.

The words leaving his beflamed generals mouth - a dog whistle - Albite was motion; heels dug in against tarmac rooftop and “Binding Retribution”

The wildness of it reflected in his gaze, he didn’t care where it landed so long as it did - so long as it caught and held long enough to let him drag his prey in close, so he could get his actual teeth on them - however blunted.