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“You’ve done this enough times before, haven’t you?” and the guise of Captain dissipated where he stood, watching Ransomites steps from beyond the trees. Unraveled like rotten leaves caught up in a strong breeze. Left a man who could’ve been any other, khaki panted, vest wearing, borderline boring enough to be drying paint on a wall, if the hair hadn’t been such a stark contrast in its light eggplant that bled into soft pink. Nearly pastel.

“I trust your sense of timing.” and out came his phone, if he acted as though he were reading — if he needed to step in. Ask to share the bench for a brief second — play the fool and ask for directions from…and the brunette could’ve been more of a red? A chestnut with burgundy hue? It didn’t matter — and Prehnite wasn’t going to babysit Ransomites every move, no more than he would kick up a fuss about being a civilian — it all mattered so little sometimes.

Plus? Ransomite seemed like the sort of man who would read the handbook - may even know passages enough to preach from. The idea made him smile, as he posted himself up against the dark bark of a peeling birch behind him.

Looked for all the world like a man genuinely enjoying the park. Instead of waiting — watching — with narrow emerald eyes.

Zebulon had taken to relaxing, occasionally checking his phone for any banter between Diryas and Tobias in response to his questioning, or, hopefully, Elliot actually showing his face with a text in their general group chat beyond commentary that it was another busy day at the church. He only bought that so far; something hadn't seemed right about the entire situation at this point.

Hadn't necessarily expected someone to sit next to him, quirked a brow when he did.

The bench was a public spot. He'd prefer to sit alone, made it easier to observe people that way unless this one had something terribly interesting to tell him, but whatever--

Nice afternoon? Sure, it was nice enough. Definitely the typical small talk from some random person -- why was he giving that face? It rang familiar in a way that didn't feel right and also felt too familiar, and he gave a half-muttered, "Do I know you?"

It cut itself before he queried any further as he took in the outfit and remembered a couple of other times in which someone decided to be friendly to him after sitting down next to -- or in front of -- him when he had been alone. Tall woman, wearing military garb, declared it was nothing personal and she'd just take a little bit of energy. Fainted at a restaurant, alarming Diryas.

He shot to his feet.

"Oh, not this s**t again, ******** because Zebulon had never been the type to leave well-enough alone, his fist flew at Ransomite's face.

Ransomite did not enjoy the way Zebulon was looking at him, nor did he enjoy the question he asked. He felt his gut jump into his throat--wasn't the glamour supposed to protect him from that? Had he signaled too hard? Had he done something he hadn't meant to do? He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come out nearly quickly enough when Zebulon was suddenly on his feet.

He was hoping Zebulon would just take this opportunity to leave, and then maybe Ransomite could just make some sort of excuse about the target being too much trouble to bother with for a small bit of energy. But this was Zebulon, and Ransomite should have known better.

This was the same man who had threatened to neuter Jason.

He reeled back when Zebulon's fist hit him in the cheek--that was going to leave a mark--and he found himself staring at Zebulon with wide eyes that he only remembered to blink after what felt like infinity. Again. ********. Was Zebulon in trouble? ********. Was it because of him? <******** had to do something, anything, before Prehnite wondered what the hell was causing a Negaverse agent to have trouble with some random civilian.

His trail of thoughts were a string of curses mixed with prayers as he got up, ran after Zebulon, and grabbed his arm, draining him as rapidly as possible. Not just for his protection, but for Zebulon's, before he made himself more of a target.

Ransomite would ignore the lead weight in his stomach for now. It wasn't his problem. At least, not now, not yet. Later, maybe.

<******** - was I that bad when I was a Lieutenant?'

Prehnite remembered being significantly worse, far more starseeding, far less amusement on his own part considering the hair-raising, half scraped together plans he'd worked out; all the goings on between competing for rare valuables that starseeds had once been, like a bunch of lone ravenous wolves fighting over stock trade levels of prey. <******** - he was giving the preacher good marks, ignoring the rest. The idea crossed his mind, flashbang quick, to recommend the Priest keep his day-job, just, permanently. Surely there were those he could nudge into snatching his quota for him from now on? Reed never been above encouraging *cheating* - results were results were -- ********>" wide emeralds that sought the sun and rolled right out of his head for the show. The second it'd become a park brawl he should've called it off, but now? Yes, especially now as Ransomite dragged the darker man into the dirt, and, well..

"Leave him, we're going." terse bit of clipped amusement, a smile that wavered as he flicked his gaze between them and the rest of their surroundings warily; beckoned Ransomite back to the visual mitigating line of the trees. Easier for him to slip Prehnite back on and - "Preferably before someone shows up and calls the -- anybody -- at all. So far as I'm concerned? You get gold stars and my personal recommendation to try a gym membership, goodness."

Though maybe the civilian was just extraordinarily strong? Certainly had the physique for it. Could've made a good agent, even? All thoughts for another time - maybe if he ran across that one again; preferably with better backup than he knew he was as himself.

Amasis

Seiana_ZI

“Please do —-“ weary sigh and eyes that sought the heavens. It was a wonder any of their own ever made it to Generalhood. He blamed the play toy weapons and breakdown of functioning teams as a whole. “And when you’re next in the citadel? Consider putting in a Data Entry for that civilian - *I’m half tempted to take him with us*.” A shame he lacked the energy for it. With how Ransomite had already done the lions share of draining that one down into easy prey. Maybe If he’d had more energy on hand — if he was a step beyond a Captain and could haul two or three instead of just the one...

He couldn’t go turning someone to their side mid parkland, in broad-a** open air. No, but maybe next time?

“Maybe next time, though, when there’s less of an audience?” Eager nonchalance and snagging fingers on Ransomites form. Unconscious bodies were no more his forte’ than corpses had been, he preferred mulch, and decided it was well past time to go. “The cities such a small place after all. I’m sure we’ll see him again.” Strangely enough Prehnite did smile for this. Eerily eager at the offered premise of future interactions — finding strong members worth bringing in to balance the stronger minds that already existed.

Hell, who knew? Maybe someone like that would’ve made Ransomite a good partner. Occasionally having a teammate with brute strength n spitfire was a boon.

The space before then swirled away as he pulled the lieutenant through subspace —- they were there — then gone, just as Ransomite wished.