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The surge of Wolfeite's anger flared across his features and Domeykite had to fight himself to school the smirk that nearly rose to his own lips. It wasn't that he wanted to anger the other man but, rather, that he enjoyed the apparent frustration that seemed to accompany the attachment to their General. He could appreciate the sentiment, just like he could appreciate the wild edge to the half-youma overall. Characters made life more interesting.

"If you say so," he shrugged off Wolfeite's words, not willing to argue, but not willing to concede either. The tension in his shoulders eased and Domeykite rocked himself onto the flat of his feet instead of leaning back into the bricks behind him. When he offered his name, it was with his title, pointing out their power difference in a peace offering.

"Lieutenant Domeykite."

He wasn't sure that the Captain wouldn't still use a reprimand as an excuse to take out his frustration on him - but then, he wondered, did he know that he could do that? Thankfully, some older Negaverse traditions seemed to have faded. The mossy haired man pursed his lips in thought and brought his hands up, tugging anxiously to shift the furred collar beneath his neck. Standing still under Wolfeite's gaze after such an introduction was making him uneasy.

"You probably have to get back to hunting or something, right?" One of his hands rose and made a wiggling motion with his fingers, pointing them out of the alley and toward the great 'unknown' of destiny city.

"I really doubt that," Domeykite shrugged his shoulders a little at Wolfeite's words as he fought to maintain his lackadaisical demeanor under the gaze of one very feral half-youma. "I'm really not that pleasant of a person, there are probably a dozen better places you could be."

If it had been any other officer standing in front of him, he might have punctuated his statement with a cocky smile, something caught between charm and arrogance. As it was, he could see the tension written into every inch of the Captain's form and it certainly didn't make him want to be even the tiniest bit playful. It felt like standing in front of a cobra with a flared hood, waiting for it to snap and strike. He supposed there was a reason the man sported wolf-like qualities and it was a shame that it seemed like the other man might actually bite his head off if he made a single joke about it.

Why did everyone in the ******** Negaverse have to be so damned serious all the time?

The thought made him realize that the tension he felt between his shoulder blades wasn't much different than how it felt when Labyrinthite was staring down his nose at him. The acidic eyes skated from Wolfeite's eyes,a cross his form, picking out the bits and pieces of his stature that said 'violence'. Immediately, his mouth pulled into a frown and he blew a deep breath out of his nose before he just dropped his eyes away to the asphalt. Without warning, he release his uniform and began to fish his cigarettes back out of his jeans.

"Want another one?" Because Levi certainly did.

The man returned with his own small snort at Wolfeite's words as he pulled the package free, finally, and fished out a couple of the long thin sticks. He put one between his lips, unlit, and held the other out to the Captain.

"I honestly know ******** all about Labyrinthite's views, we do as little talking as I can possibly manage." There was no apology for it, though he didn't look proud either. It was apathy that rolled his shoulders and kept his face unmoved. "I was a stupid kid when I let Zinkenite drag me into this war and I'm paying the price for my ignorance. I'll keep paying for it until the day I die, I imagine."

The long thin hand that shoved his nearly-empty pack of cigarettes back into his pocket fished for the lighter then, until he had pulled it free of his skinny trousers. Nervously, he thumbed it to life a couple of times with no reason, listening to the metallic grate of the wheel and relishing the feel of the small flare of warmth above his fingertips. His bright, acid eyes rose to meet the golden ones staring back down at him and held the gaze for just a moment.

"It's not that I think I'm above the Negaverse, or that I give ******** all about those prissy skirted shits," the cigarette in his lips bobbled as he spoke, but he finally held the lighter out for the half-youma, offering to light his smoke first, "I just have a life and a career. I'm selfish."

Domeykite's bright eyes watched as Wolfeite dipped forward toward the lighter again, saw the way it lit the hollows of his face and showed him for the something other that he was at closer inspection. He had been there when the first of his kind was showcased to their army and he could not say that he felt any more safe around them now than he did then. They weren't meant to make anyone feel safe. They were, however, an interesting curiosity. He didn't know quite how they worked, but he realized that he would like to.

Were there less violent half-youma in the world, now? Was that even a possibility?

"Yes," his answer came, without hesitation. He would have loved to be ignorant of it all, he was selfish enough to both want it and admit it. "I tried. For years, I managed, before they sent a rather nasty message care of General Xenotime."

There was no hiding the way his face went to stone as he spoke her name and his eyes dropped to stare, again, at the unlit metal of the lighter while his own cigarette hung limply, unlit, from his lips. The unmarred end bobbled with each word and again with the shrug of his shoulders just before he looked up at the Captain's eyes.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I've got people I don't want to see consumed," he paused and considering tossing a no offense into the mix, but that might have been more offensive? What were youma politics?

"I think that's really what traps my kind, the ungrateful peons."

"I didn't resign," he said immediately, though his words were not as confident as others he had spoken. "I just took a leave of absence."

As Wolfeite contemplated his words, Levi finally brought the lighter to the butt of his cigarette and, with his hands cupped around the lighter to block the breeze, flicked it to life and puffed until the paper caught. It flared orange and angry and with his first inhale, delivered that sweet, blissful rush of nicotine. Levi, too, was a creature of addiction but had not yet come to the point of trying to contain it. What was the point, anymore?

"Doesn't the Negaverse use everything against us?"

The bright, lime gaze fluttered up to the Captain's once more as one hand held the cigarette between his forefingers and the other shoved his lighter back into one of his many pockets. He shrugged again, that obvious sign of his defeat. What he thought didn't matter - they didn't have quotas on free speech or opinions.

"I'm in the Negaverse because I was a dumb kid chasing fantasies and I do my duties now because people I care about seem to care about it. If it were just losing myself that might cost me, it wouldn't be such a big deal." But it wasn't just himself he risked losing - it was Chase, Jade, James. The list was growing and he was powerless to stop his attachments.

"I don't think it really matters. Loyalty is loyalty, no matter how it is acquired."

"I think believing that something is more important than yourself is probably the only thing that gives any of this pointless s**t meaning, actually." Now, Levi was committing the other man to memory, so he might remember what he was like in the moment. Not because he cared to use the information - Wolfeite read exactly the way he appeared to be: a wolf contained in sheep's clothing. That was obvious, he didn't need a study to remember the way the man had vibrated under the power of overcharged chaos in Metallia's room. No, he watched him now because he wanted to remember what the good Captain was before he was consumed.

"Not caring means not stopping, that's a dangerous sort of thing to deal with."

The mossy-haired man looked back into those burning eyes and was reminded, suddenly, of a german shepherd he had once watched animal control wrestle into a cage. He had been five and it was the first, terrifying moment he could remember in his life. What would make a 200 pound half-youma heel? It made his skin crawl so intensely that he finally looked away, staring off down the street Wolfeite had stopped him from taking while his cigarette hung limply from his bottom lip.

"I guess it's a good thing you're so hung up on loyalty, isn't it?" He wasn't afraid of Wolfeite in the moment but, if he were face to face with him on a battlefield, the story might've been different. Domey leaned his head back against the brick behind him, feeling the weariness his day had had upon him while he knew it was not proper to break rank and leave of his own accord. It seemed like the world wanted to keep reminding him his life couldn't just be normal.