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Waru thought of how he stole Aramis’s time for snippets of French (not to learn the language, just the words he liked), and used Syrus like a ‘word a day’ calendar (cause he was pretty when he was pissed enough to sound a long word out), and admired Faustites beautifully violent calligraphy; those sharp angles carved into paper like knife wounds (many a murdered metal nibbed pen lay hidden away in his scrap drawer at home). He picked apart the brain of every girl he knew, the whole lot smarter than he could aspire to ever become—and yet? He hoped if he soaked in their auras long enough, he’d absorb it.

Or at least the flavors of intelligence they all so easily held from his point of view.

He snorted at the David comment, let it slide, water off a duck, because it was true — He didn’t know much about The David, or he wouldn’t have under any normal sort of circumstances were he ever only his own and left to his own devices.

But he belonged to so many—was a creature of both yielding and constraint in one. A hodgepodge amalgamation of every person he knew, plastered over the best parts of himself; and he could admit that, even on a bad day. How he thought he would’ve been nothing to admire without having had so many others to draw scraps of hard won knowledge off of.

Having those same people to provide him care; messily vicious, even bluntly manipulative at times. But it’d saved his a** oh so often, to have had those in his life who could - and not just because he was a rack of lean abs laced in smooth tattoos, but because they genuinely liked him. Eventually.

Like sharks n’ remoras!

After all! What was a David without a Michelangelo? What better Michelangelo than a good enemy, lover, friend? But Trey wasn’t talking about statues….

So Waru took the ‘fine’ at face value, let it stand and drop, because he absolutely believed Trey would tell him if anything was ever less than fine. Same as be could tell him to ******** off in the most prestigiously polite way; the kind that left one skinned without knowing it till the next day.

Like a fine-grained blade — where you never knew you’d been cut till you saw the bleed.

“Is this what you think me trying to seduce you looks like? *Oh Trey*,” n he knew Trey couldn’t see his eyes from where he lounged, but there was a sharpness there, curiosity that seeped into his tone alongside a teasing warmth; did Trey think he only wanted him for his team? For Faustite? It wasn’t untrue, but the why of it all played a part. Along with the fact that he wanted far more than just those things— He rumbled a laugh, spread his thumbs down over well defined traps and pressed smooth semi-circles that dipped beneath an open collar, along the edge of a sharp scapula, “Do you need me to? Cause I could start.”

“Could also tell you about a willow tree. How it yields, bodily, and because it yields? It’ll be around long after David’s gravel n dust,” and true; there was beauty in the David - the nature of such things. All of which made Waru think of Senshi, their worlds. Timeless into infinity, unyielding, and what did they have to show for it? Death that was undying. No matter how beautiful, strong, mystifying; they all fought, fell — and cast their unyielding souls out into the universe to do it all over. Time and again. Till something shattered, or?

Till something went right.

“N how the unyielding nature of beautiful things only lasts so long without proper care—-“ and Waru found the curvature of Trey’s ears fascinating, the perfection there, easy enough to I follow that pale line of neck and press lines behind them, up towards sore temples (always helped him with his headaches, that and peppermint oil)“S’why the David in the Square is just a replica and the real ones tucked forever away; too fragile to be roughly handled, too unyielding to survive the elements around it.”

All that weathering change, and the way it chipped even the most stunning of stone with time, made diamonds of coal, made sand of mountains.

“Luckily for David? People care. N lucky for you…I’m invested in doing this just because I want to. No ulterior motives, no team-building shenanigans. You looked tired, my hands were free…” practically chirpy with his winded reply, he wanted to be honest though. He did what he wanted just because, impulsive, eager. Wanted Trey with them because it would’ve made Faustite happy — but also because Trey didn’t need a leash, or a General who was never around. No. Trey needed power, didn’t he? Guy didn’t seem the type who was eager to sit at the cusp of Eternal for too long.

And maybe. Just maybe? Waru thought Trey deserved a little groupie free tlc without any strings attached. Waru couldnt’ve spelt ‘quid pro quo’ let alone asked for it.

Waru's body stayed, elbows tucked on the couches plush back where he slouched forewords, but his eyes followed as he smoothed the slight tingling sensation out the palm of each hand.

"Heh, I never know what I'm talking about, but that's half the fun with tangents n all that....S'like racing down a really long, twisty road," he'd take the compliments for what they were, and the easy dismissal too. It was an out, and he had to give trey credit for putting up with him when he was obviously tired, "all journey, no destination."

"I'll cash that rain check someday Trey," he waited to follow, steps enough behind to not be on Treys heels before sloughing through his own items; he'd miss the shiny gold chains. Was somehow more respective of the jewelry than he had been of everything else in the room, including his own belongings, "till then? I'll probably hit the Citadel -- I do occasionally have things to do, when I feel like it." He was feeling like it, not doing paperwork, per say, but doing something -- his thoughts never strayed far from his every growing team. From checkins that looked like good natured meetups and comradery, but had far more planning put into them to be entirely spontaneous. Except for when they were. Cause sometimes? An idea just struck him, and then he had to act on it!

Making sure all his peers, n higher ups, n just belows were having a good time...

"It was fun Trey. Seriously. Your worlds kinda nice to play in -- dunno if I could live in it full time, but?" a shrug into a shirt, hands searching his pants for -- oh, pen! Damn thing was always sneaking off on him. He played with it, watched it unfurl from something simple -- into something divinely devilish with all the blacks n greens.

He threw Trey a wink, before doing a final stupid thing -- he figured maybe the guy could lie - about where Waru'd gone if anyone really remembered him enough to ask. Not that he remembered to care overly much while he pulled his henshin on like a second skin; no reason to worry right? Not with a locked door between them and the outside world.

"Send me the copies, n have a good night."

There n gone in a flash of black. Fashion absolutely wasn't his world, he couldn'tve hacked it. Being privy to it, dabbling in it? That was all a joy, especially if it got those cute little reactions outta Trey - soft snorts n laxed body language - he'd happily put in time if it'd get him more of that. Heh, maybe even a smile! Someday.