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"Tama, I've never a day in my life reported to Faustite for anything, and I don't intend to begin doing so now," the words soft, just to the left of dryly amused. There was no malice though, no unwelcome, for while Prehnite was surprised to be so caught out on his way down the hall -- the severity in Tama's tone dragged him to pause in his steps. Made him want to turn and give the Mauvian his full and undivided attentions, whatever else he needed to do could wait until another time. Tama clearly needed him now.

To think that when he'd first met the Mau? Tama had seemed so wary of the Rift and all it contained, and now? Venturing into the scar on trips overflowing with peril in excess, seeking him out to request an escorted venture all on his own.

"May I ask at least the nature of this trip--" and since it seemed like there was no time to waste? Prehnite reached for Tama between words, enough to touch, to pull, and let them out before the vaunted doors that opened to him and his kind alone -- the way all the wailing shadows that crawled and clawed beyond the hidden walls of glass seemed to shudder -- the confusion and hunger a warring thing. For one was prey, and the other was not. "--purpose in the venture does help me understand just a bit what to be concerned of, not that it matters much either way. I've been meaning to make my way down here on my own ever since Galavorns tantrum subsided. For what it may have cost us? The reveals buried in the depths of the Scar have been phenomenal..." his interest had always been easily piqued by what lay beyond the desiccated grounds of the Rift. Ever since he, as a Leiutenant, first went errantly stumbling into Iolanthes domain, he'd craved its mysteries for his own. Even back then, as a young fool, ripe to be eaten and yet miraculously spared such a fate. Whether by intrigue or kindness he'd never quite discerned that from Iolanthes nature; but spared he had been.

"I've wants of the workshop all my own, but - yours come first."

Did he assume it had to do with faustite? Did he let it lie and lay low for his growing concerns -- for the concept of the man turning himself over to his agents (if any part of him survived, if any part of his plans failed) he believed Faustite would've made a lovely bonded, a stunning weapon, it was a shame that nearly all his flock and followers were Senshi; save some small few.

Beautiful-- soft thought and returned smile. All the ways Prehnite thought Tama was delightful to encounter, every single time. Thought the Mau in fact rather exceptional, for all that he rarely spent much time around Guardian cats who didn't currently reside in his own home: like their dearest Xyla, playing as much a safety net as she did a shield for the copious amounts of corrupt Senshi he seemed to collect and cultivate living spaces for under the guise of 'team' (it honestly felt more like a garden at this point.)

To the point where he wondered if he'd have to eventually expand the living quarters in his space -- adding more than just the occasional bit of square footage to his green houses for Jan to rummage through. Prehnite thought, he listened, he shoved the doors wide on one end - briskly followed Tama closely through the halls and sprung open the next set - ignoring the ominous closing and scrabbling of shadow-bound claws behind them. Curious passers and hungry eyes only got passive glances, made him draw a singular blade to pick his fingernails with menacingly more than actually brandish at anything beyond them---

Worse came to it? Iolanthe was a call away, or even less than that. She was a thought, a beckon, a gentle wave of a hand. He felt her presence in the depths the same way she gauged him and all his living, bleeding, green feelings under the moonlight on their randomly scheduled walks above. Entwined with but the barest of buffers between them...

"Oh, and that place did cost us quite a bit, did it not? Between the glitzing ghosts -- My lovely Hylonome still bears a scar from that stupid time-frozen general-beasts spears..." and he eyed Tama's blunted black dagger and smiled, thought he had something similar with a twisted hilt, picked up out of the remains of Galavorns tantrum. He'd forgone everything else, had disliked the glitzy knights and convoluted conversations. The dagger seemed little in the way of compensation for him -- though it did look very lovely stabbed into a slab of oak on his office desk ---"It's bold of you all to try so hard, though. You all must love him, especially since his own actions led to this. Whether the doing of it was known by him or not? Chosen by him or not. If everything goes beyond south of our borders---you and yours cannot blame yourselves for it," and who was he to talk of grief, of blame? The ultimate hypocrite, crown and title belt holder in one, he thought. The words were still said, out there, living things that needed to be spoken.

"I can't say I'm not intrigued though--I promise to help you save your hide from Youma and Half-youma alike; especially if it pulls some new answers free about how malleable these things truly are. We merge with them so easily, as agents." said with a hint of sarcasm, for all the ways 'easy' could be interpreted. Like - Easily in the same way some people merged with the molten slag pieces of lava and bits of glass in a car crash? Or easily as slapping a limb of a tree in place of a shoulder socket; easy was not the word, but they did indeed merge. He'd seen replacements, eyes, limbs, more. How youma could give of their own to save a life---

Not a senshis. Incompatible those two, like trying to do a transplant and forgetting the antibiotics. The rejections of those were works of abomination and horror. Faustite was no Senshi though, an agent once, a half-breed now, maybe a Knight in the past? Something like that--

"Now, when you say 'save a part of him', do you mean his youma side, his memories? Whatever bits of physical form might be lost in the transference--because he is indeed missing things. I'm sure we've all noticed - those very, very important things--The kind that make me hope one of their asteroids or moons have waiting hospital staff on them." Pace clipped and words clipped and quick to keep up with a Tama on a mission. He wondered if maybe they could store Faustites memories in a vial? Like those of gold that showed glimpses of bygone days and futures past...