Welcome to Gaia! ::

Of course Aquamarine was paying attention. He wasn’t so stupid as to come into the General King’s office and then not watch, or listen, even if he was draped over the chair, sipping at a tumbler of whiskey.

Aquamarine stared after Faustite, wondering where exactly he lost his marbles. Was it the Rift? Before that? Did the fire do it? Becoming a youma, even if only temporarily, was bad enough for Aquamarine. Was becoming half a youma an equally traumatizing experience? Probably…

For a brief moment, Aquamarine wondered if the thoughts swirling in his head and the discomfort swirling in his gut could be classified as sympathy, but he shook that away quickly and decided, no, it was only the aftereffects of their time in the Rift. Terrible place. Zero stars. Would not recommend.

Hoisting himself out of his chair, Aquamarine tipped his glass toward the bottle of whiskey. “Keep that. I have more where that came from.”

He nearly teleported out right away, but stopped himself just before. It didn’t escape his notice that a significant question had gone unanswered.

“Kamacite’s fine, by the way. Probably hiding somewhere. You’d’ve had a hard time persuading me to come here, too, if I was used as bait.”

With that, Aquamarine followed Jet’s lead and teleported away.

Axinite waited for a moment; Eion could not go so far that he could escape the General King, but he was expressing what patience he could. Jet and Aquamarine left and his office felt strange, like there was an emptiness in their wake.

And, a strange, smothering fog. He was vaguely aware of his heart in his chest, or his throat, or his stomach--not where it belonged. He gathered up the tablet and dismissed it to subspace.

There was nothing more for him here, and Faustite had not yet returned.

Axinite did not wait for him to return, he suspected they were past that.

He teleported to the city, to the rocks and darkness and emptiness. Away from everyone else. There wasn’t an energy signature nearby. There wasn’t anything flammable here.

There were rocks to sit on, and while they lacked the comfort of his office, the area also lacked the walls of his office. It was open. It was quiet. It was private.

So, he took a seat on one of the flatter stones and summoned Eion there to him.

His elbows were on his knees, fingers laced, and he hunched forward just slightly so he could look at him.

“Sit,” he said, and gestured to another of the flat rocks. He had no expectation that Eion would take one form over the other, but there was an option out here. “Breathe. I’ll wait. When was the last time you ate something?”

“Might be,” Axinite agreed, and he seemed patient despite the scrutiny at which he examined Eion. “Breathe,” he said again. “You’re not in trouble. I didn’t bring you out here to yell at you. I want you to eat something.”

And, because Axinite was always prepared, he summoned a lunchbox from subspace, and a water bottle. They matched, clearly a set. There was nothing fancy about them, they were functioning and in good condition. And yet, if Eion were to burst into flames, Axinite wouldn’t lose sleep about having to replace them.

The bottle was full of lavender honey sweet tea, and the food inside was clearly prepared by someone who needed to keep everything in meticulous order. A sandwich wrapped in reusable bees wax paper, sliced diagonally. Chicken salad with the dressing on the side. Sliced oranges and an assortment of berries. Two hard boiled eggs. White chocolate covered pretzels.

When he spoke again, it was with the same steady patience. “I want you to breathe. This is a lunch break. Relax your muscles, your shoulders look very stiff. When you’re ready, I want you to taste everything, even if it’s just a bite. I want you to focus on the flavors. On the texture. The temperature. Take your time.”

Axinite had time to wait. It didn’t seem to bother him if Eion didn’t understand the purpose of this, and Axinite himself didn’t seem to derive any particular interest in the matter; while Eion ate, he remained seated, looking to the ruins in the distance, or the cluster of crystals growing beneath some battered rocks.

He sat there quietly, occasionally glancing at Eion only to make sure that there was no discernible change in his demeanor, no new issues to worry about.

Maybe it hadn’t occurred to him that Eion might be used to eating in a different way, or maybe it had and that was why he wanted him to do this. Either way, he seemed to be fairly relaxed while Eion ate.

The silence didn’t bother him, and he kept to himself to give Eion the opportunity to eat without any extra reason to think that he was part of a project or experiment.

After a few moments, Axinite seemed to think it was safe to muse: “Have you tested to see how hot your fires are? I was thinking, if you’re having a hard time using our technology, we could see if a Mauvian might make you something a bit more heat tolerant.”

Axinite seemed eternally patient while Eion ate. He didn’t ever seem like he was watching with any intent to criticize how he was eating, and he made no comment when he fumbled with the fork and spilled some of it. When he looked to Eion, he only made eye contact, and when he wasn’t looking at Eion he was examining the faroff horizon.

“I would prefer if you had access to the utilities the rest of us use. I have some Mauvians who have been pestering me for something to do. If you’d be interested, I’d appreciate the opportunity to see what they can do. If the tablet isn’t to your liking, perhaps we can find something else, of course.”

He gave him a few seconds to consider it, but it wasn’t as much of a priority as the reason they were out here.

“Think about it,” he requested, but moved on. “Right now I want to talk about what’s bothering you. There’s no wrong answers, I need you to know that. I don’t like seeing my agents being eaten up from the inside out, and I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t want to lose you, not to yourself or to anything else. Was the mission that bad or have you been hiding this for a while?”

Axinite nodded, partly to show agreement and support for Faustite’s thoughts on a new communication device, and partly because he’d asked a very heavy question that resonated deeply with Axinite.

“I trust you,” Axinite said after a few seconds. “I wouldn’t have asked you to undertake this task if I thought you weren’t capable. You haven’t let me down. You’ve exposed a weakness in our structure. I don’t blame you because they didn’t listen. A General, I’d like to think, had a good reason for doing something so dangerous. A Super--” he sucked in a breath.

“...I’d like to think she had a good reason.”

But, he didn’t know what that reasoning was. He wasn’t going to assume, not about something so dangerous.

He wanted to tell Faustite that their deaths weren’t his fault, but he wondered if it would mean anything to him. Axinite would have blamed himself if he’d been in his shoes and no words would have changed his mind on the matter, so he didn’t try to tell Faustite to feel otherwise.

“You being half-youma isn’t a weakness. And you’re not incompetent. I think you’re a good leader, Faustite. The wounds of this mission are fresh, and they will shape you. Every loss does. Sometimes things don’t go according to plan, we can’t predict and foresee everything, and sometimes teams aren’t as compatible as we hoped. I think, if we are to blame anything, it’s that we as an organization have failed to facilitate better trust and teamwork. That’s not on you. You did everything you could, I have no doubt about that. You always give it your best. I can’t say the same for everyone, but I trust you. I support you. I suspect you had to make some hard decisions out there. You didn’t fail, Faustite. You’re here. You brought back everyone you could, in the face of greater odds than we imagined. I think you take better care of your team than you do of yourself. And I think they would be incredibly foolish not to appreciate you like I do. That flaw lies with them, not you. I need you to see your value, though. Your worth. Not just for the Negaverse, but for yourself, too.”

Maybe Axinite saw the emotion Eion was fighting to suppress. Maybe he just imagined it. Maybe it didn’t matter, because he was going to worry about him either way.

“No,” he agreed. “I don’t think anyone should be going into the Rift with a team that doesn’t understand how important cooperation is. You did your best,” he said, because he honestly believed it.

“You were given broken tools. And I’m going to do my best to get them fixed. I’m sorry that I asked you to do this, Faustite. If I had known it might have turned out like this, I wouldn’t have. I’m going to see about getting more training opportunities in place.”

And half a dozen different lectures on the Rift, and Youma, and Leadership expectations.

He exhaled, like if he breathed enough of himself out it would take some of the stress with it.

“I don’t know if we can teach compassion or camaraderie. But it’s worth it to try. I’m sorry you had to deal with this, Faustite. I want to make it up to you. I want to see to it that you’re taken care of. Because you’re strong, and resilient. I know that. But you’re not a tool, and I’m not going to push until you break. I think you need some time to take care of yourself. When was the last time you took a vacation, or took time to do something you wanted to do?”

It did take time for people to learn. It would take time to fix things. A look of grief briefly passed across Axinite’s face and he admitted, “I wish there was an easy answer. I wish I could snap my fingers and there was a simple solution. I need to go read through the rest of the report. I only glanced at it. But don’t lose faith, please.”

It was a lot to ask for, he was certain of that.

“Sometimes, things just go wrong. Sometimes we can’t predict a weakness before we’re faced with it. I will find a way to make amends. Or spend all the time I have here on this Earth working towards it, at least. However,” he exhaled. “I am aware that if you just work, you’re not at your best. I want you to take some time for yourself. If you don’t know what to do,” he searched briefly for a suggestion, but he settled on the same one he often turned to. “Come bake with me. It’s very therapeutic. And, you get to eat whatever you want afterwards.”