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“So you’re J’s newest acquaintance,“ and Syrus said the word like he wanted to say ‘acquisition’ instead; the words lived under a smile tucked behind a warm mug of carrot and ginger soup. The details he had were sparse as all get out. He’d missed the last all call with intent and purpose. Going out to fight a swath of bleeding blight was excitement enough, thank you very much, to be called back even after? To do what? More work?

No — thank — you — but apparently he’d missed something important, maybe even vitally so. If the way Waru acting like a kicked dog with a sewn mouth was any kind of forthcoming indicator as to ‘things that occurred in my absence’ — Warus silence on matters far more bloody a flag than if he’d been loud. The silence of his phone equally as intriguing.

What Syrus did know for certain? What he’d gleaned, was that their numbers were many, plentiful, ever-breeding like well cared rats in a den. There were more Senshi than before, and now?

*More agents.*

Names would be important, getting a view of the roster other than — apparently Pax? Was it? But more importantly than that — Jada was forming a solid side-crew all her own — an intelligent one — if looks we’re anything to go by, and oh, Syrus was looking.

A public space chosen for public ventures. All it took was quick steal of Warus phone middle of the night, to at the very least pass his information onto Emilia: Holder of the leash and Heeler of Himbos. He’d gotten no response, not even a calendar invite, at least not from her — ice cold all the way through — he had received a text from an unknown, and the Broadside cafe’ down Center and Bismarck was near enough college residential and his own line of work to make it worth walking to. The weather only mildly brisk with thick November clouds and no new snow — good for soup and coffee; he could make nice — chat the newcomer up — and keep an eye out for the leading man in his side missive. Something easy to play with set out by, what had Mizuki called her other paternal figure?

Ah, yes, ‘plant-dad’ — or was it ‘********’? Between her info and Faustites brief, curt, guidance it was hard to tell — but again, two birds, one set of eyes scanning for some tall, dark, and militantly-handsome civilian. People watching an ever enjoyable task while he put his mouth to good use chatting up this newest bit of company.

Syrus nearly snorted carrot puree, the steaming mug went down and the napkin came up so he could save some bit of dignity -- that was no proper way to meet a person, looking like someone who needed both bib and highchair in one -- hearing anyone call Waru -- gods -- Albite - Al? Of all things, it made him chuckle under his breath, a choked off thing because he could see Waru's face so vividly for hearing it, as if he'd been standing right there. That alone tagged right onto the idea of them being merely 'acquaintances'.

"I don't presume to know what you and Emilia's relations with each other are, how you'd choose to classify that, but when it comes to Waru -- and you will end up meeting him *personally*, I'm sure -- but for him?" he drummed his bluntly cut nails along the outside of cream colored ceramic, erratic, rhythmless tune.

How did he call 'Al'?

A man he penciled in for regularly scheduled 'activities', a paramour, a partner in crime. A dog in heat constantly tripping over his sizeable love-knot for every stray he crossed paths with. None of those were overly kind, few were right for company, and it wasn't a context he considered often. What when Waru simply 'was', undefinable, present when required -- present when not -- did he love him? Maybe. Was he marrying him? *Never*

It left him staring at Adam sharply, as if he'd tripped over some as of yet unseen snag in Syrus's mental upholstery, a loose thread he'd forgotten to cut when laying it all down. It was impressively blindsiding. He found his smile all the more genuine for it.

"When one gets overly creative with a thesaurus, they can find quite a few things to call him. Both privately, and in public, pinning any one word down for the nameless -- it's a bit like describing an endearing disaster and it's moving parts -- though? I'd love to hear what 'She' calls him, aside from 'to heel'." He let that sit there, all the vagary, a tilt of a nod in acknowledgement that -- yes -- this one had done their homework - and yes - Sryus found that ******** *delightful*, it seemed that Jadarite was hand picking only the most exceptional for her build-a-bear team.

No words had ever rung truer. Syrus swore he must have been bitten by a gab fly, with how freely his tongue wagged, felt the awkwardness in the aftermath for all the ways he'd dragged those sentences on through an absolute bog of words; he'd blame everyone but himself for that. The most proper thing for him to do.

"A dwarf star is 'a bit dense', what Waruhiu is..." an absent twirl of a wrist signaling other, as the steaming mug of savory herbs found the tabletop gently, Syrus considered the idea that Emilia found that man worthy of her time at all to be a miracle of substantial import, and maybe it was just a fling of fleeting interests; warm bodies and cold nights, but? Waru treated all his relationships as 'personal', lacked the ability to discern inbetweens. It could've been the most loveless thing in the world and that man...well...

"Dense is probably the kindest word for it, but I'm not here to give all of his shallow secrets up." nor all of his own, an eyebrow raised for the obvious bait laid out, all shiny and new. It was a fishing expedition then.

Syrus wondered if he should bite, how deeply, if this particular hook was barbed. Nibbled instead, cautious little tug on threads of interest, things he hadn't considered himself on his own.

"Waru is to a net what our 'General Manager' is to a fisher -- knowing him is the same as knowing all of them at least somewhat. Not nearly as closely as he does, of course, because that man lives to bury his nose regardless of whether or not you asked him to, but? I can't say that I have relationships with the rest as complicated as I have with him."

Borax was a delight, no, Adam was a delight. Intelligent, suave, direct. It was no wonder to Syrus why Emy had picked him, it did make him wonder if he should be telling his friend to step his game up a bit -- except no --

"Why, are you looking for something specific? A kindred spirit, a partner for creative collaboration? My hearsay-gossip isn't free..."

“You’re not just anyone’s ‘newbie’. You’re Emilias.” What little he understood of the depths he’d found himself sinking further into with each passing day, he knew this, rank and file held genuine merit and meaning. At least so some degree, and while captains and supers certainly could bring outsiders into the fold? It seemed to be a few and far between sort. A special grant. Earned. Especially for those on a team like his. He’d not known Faustite to be benevolent with his handouts, impulsive, maybe, but certainly he was wary to give only those deserving any kind of command privilege.

Especially with as ‘boy’ loving as their General seemed to be? What with Emmy being purely ‘girl’ — Ah — not only that though; whip smart, necessary, confided in and depended upon. Tiny things he’d gleaned in passing - mostly through Warus gushing deference, but also with the way he’d seen Faustite hand her the reigns on missions.

So for her first subordinate to be of the chosen sort? A kindness not afforded to his Eternally complicated friend Alllass of Why are you like this?

It made an impression. It left Syrus intrigued. Loyal as he may have been to his current boss and General proper, he knew it didn’t hurt to branch out within and grow closer to a competent backup buddy. Especially since Fulgurite had gotten his wings and left him feeling that gapping divide of power. Between himself and the rest of the team, between himself and an agent proper.

“That gives you a little mor intrigue than the twenty dozen or so brought in on a whim, or because you have a nice set of chromosomes and might look as good in a sweater as out of one,” easily enough imagined, all the young beautiful people he found himself surrounded with in the depths of the underdark. That Emmy seemed particularly fond of waru for — oh, he could’ve guessed the reasons, knew those reasons had limits when it came down to anything that required thought. “I am, of course, going off the assumption that her tastes are more than just good. That she’s particularly discerning of what qualities she does and does not want in her direct subordinates.”

“So! If it suits us both? I’ll draw you a vague map of the land with occasional X’s to mark the treasure, and in return? If ever I need a hand up in some way…” vague gesticulation and a humm that fell further into carrot flavored sipping. Adam had done his research appropriately, knew he did law the same way he knew Adam did money. Handled cold, hard, emotionless numbers with all the warmth and empathy of a snake swallowing down its next prized meal. He wasn’t sure the man wouldn’t stick a knife in his back if ever he turned it on him. For all that Adam had rather endearing eyes and well honed charisma. Syrus was wary —-

This one wasn’t Waru, or Matt, or Eion who was so viciously, undeniably boy. Adam was different in ways that mattered to him in the larger world where people lived. Something Syrus still longed for, he wasn’t about to throw it all away and live in the hollows of his past self for the next decade - nor go down into the abyss, never to surface again because it was more ‘fun’ that way. Certainly not for love.

“I’ll let you know, and if the hand up seems too costly on the scales? You’ll let me know how to balance them out accordingly.”

It was almost nice, actually. A breath of fresh air to have someone who understood quid pro quo, someone who played the game better than he did and so he didn’t fear that nauseating a sense of whiplash that came with being surprised by them.

He could've told Adam that flattery would get him everywhere, but he was sure the man knew. After all, he'd found himself under Jadarite (in more ways than one), and seemed more than pleased with her leadership, as well as whatever future prospects that opened up for him. It was one of the worlds greatest mysteries that Jada' wasn't yet a General. Though he suspected that had far more to do with the scrutiny levied over Faustites head like a veritable sword of Damocles, than with anything lacking on Jada's part. After all there was Albite, who for all his wings acted more disposable than a paper towel and less leaderly than Syrus was sure anyone cared for.

So maybe Faustite had to be careful going forwards....

It was all speculations and guesswork that Syrus hazarded at while enjoying Adam's attention, the obviously affectionate ploy; tilting his head just so in a way that bore his throat, agreeing with the barest of nods that yes -- he was a catch -- while he preened internally over the simple compliments and subsequent heat that didn't come from the soup he'd been downing.

The man was charming as ********, to say he was immune would've been a lie.

The remainder of the negotiation sounded like music to his ears, orchestral, well played, the signing and sealing of a basic and mutually beneficial proposal over a quick café' brunch. Adam was easier, somehow, than the other members of their team. Clear motivations, clean lines, there was something breathtakingly like the feeling of relief that came with the simplicity of the situation he'd found himself in.

"Exactly that," fingers laced delicately under his chin, Syrus's held his gaze, greedily attentive. "and truly, I'd expect nothing less than for you to keep me honest," extending his hand across the divide to meet Adams own, to shake on it. "Here's to equal trades and even measures. A beautiful partnership."