Welcome to Gaia! ::

He'd been expecting the text. There was little way around it given what he had done, rather, what he had failed to do. He turned off his phone and stared out the window for a long moment, out at the fog that had begun to settle over the city. "I am not.. afraid... of a captain." He murmured softly. But still, his heart beat faster in his chest as he took a deep breath and walked out the door. Judgement, righteous anger, just as important, knives... he was not looking forward to this meeting in the least but by god if he wouldn't do his best to diffuse it.

His hand throbbed, he'd need to redo the bandages till it was healed, between civilian garb and uniform, though for this time he elected to leave it to his partial glove to hide the foolishness that would likely scar his palm.

The transition seamless, one moment a civilian, nervous and eyes darting, the next step black boots ate up the pavement as he moved forward onto the roof top and then, vanished.

He re-appeared at the scene of his humiliation. It had worked so well until... it had very nearly been a successful plan, they could have walked out with Gunn. But he'd sworn he would not leave any of them behind. He told himself it had nothing to do with the WHO it was, he firmly believed he would have done it for any. Might he have hesitated more though? He couldn't answer that, not honestly... not now.

He curled his fingers into the wound, driving them into the line that should have been cut into Gunn's throat till the pain lanced up his arm and his stomach turned.He was by no means a lover of pain, least of all his own. Not physical pain at any rate... he was an expert however at berating himself. Behind the facade of self assurance and witty banter there was forever nestled the need to do better. The need to do more, be better... be the best. Be anyone, fundamentally but himself... the Negaverse had at least in many ways improved that. He wanted to be Zinkenite, he was proud to be General, but it was still a proving ground. Could he ever live up to what he saw in those around him? Could he ever live up to what they seemed to see in him?

He had failed Wolframite, and now he must answer for that failure. He had had her in his hands, he had delivered her and called her a gift, and then he had taken that gift away. The cut on his hand could hardly counter the blood price that Gunn and others like her, owed to their fallen, or those who suffered yet were 'fortunate' enough to survive.


"Wolframite." He called into the dim and musty twilight that lingered. He was, as ever, cautious...even of his own.

With the expression on his face, he on some level expected violence, perhaps he always did after a long long schooling which involved such 'crude' behavior. He tried to recoil but couldn't for the grip on his coat, though if he were fortunate he might have at least loosened the grasp on the all too plentiful fabric. Blood in his mouth and an burst of white stars like fireworks from the impact as he staggered.

He might have spat blood but it would have been ineffective given he almost always wore his mask up. He grabbed for the offending hand, the one left free to be struck with trying to arrest any further movement that would lead to loosened teeth. "Wolframite!" He snapped trying to work past that anger, the blind rage that he had little doubt was fueled by at least some of the blood lust that might otherwise have been saved for Gunn.

"I KNOW...." He shouted back, his voice cracking with the strain of holding the other young man, and his own failure. "I know... do you think I -wanted- that!?" He fired back shaking his head quivering from head to toe.

"It was a FLUKE... even Sailor Gunn seemed convinced I was there for Ares...spitting out chess moves like I'm expected to believe she can play." He tried to give Wolfram a good sound push to the chest to move him away, too close, all together too close.

"I failed you..." He said through gritted teeth, the words themselves hurt, they twisted in his chest a raw ache that he could not soothe. "I failed you and I will answer that, for you and anyone else who asks. I miscalculated, I thought they were after you but..." He stopped and shook his head. He wasn't even sure... the point of chess was to capture the king, why else use the metaphor but he could not reconcile Wolfram as the King they wanted.

"What do you want me to DO?" he waved his hands wide, an open target, almost a welcoming one. "...would you have me turn over someone to the same...kindness that they showed you?"

"THEY are lucky I didn't have the structure to turn it into a RUT Wolframite, do you imagine I didn't see that -look- in your eyes? Do you think I don't see it NOW?" He raged eyes blazing. "I distanced myself better from LINARITE than your doing with this...how can I trust you to help with this if you're going to treat this all like YOUR SANDBOX."

He shook his head, eyes wide and pale ice blue. "Ran your name through the mud... what the ******** do you think your talking about... YES...yes it was a ******** failure. They were after US you.... NIMROD... do you not get this? I don't think they were AFTER YOU but since I was busy making sure you DIDN'T just slit her throat right -there- I didn't have the where with all to analyze what they -were- after."

He Glanced at the weapon stilling himself. He would not pull his own...he would not.

"You're better than this Wolfram, we will have them again, think about it...THINK...Where was ARES in all this, you left that woman with a bruised PRIDE, where was she to remedy that?! We CAN NOT let this be a failure because we are too lost in emotion to see what we LEARNED."

Something darker danced behind those pale blue eyes. Game pieces... that hurt. But it hurt because it was, in many ways true. Pieces, they were -all- pieces. It wasn't the time to say that though...it wasn't the place. He was on his back with a blade pressed close enough to start fraying the fabric.

"I saw though... It's what I do wolfram...I see." He said his voice returning to that almost dangerous level velvet blackness that almost slid over the skin.

"I see, I understand that much at least, I'm not asking you to 'break' it...I want you to cage it, it's using you...use it." he paused for a breath...edgy...nervous.

"...I want to help you Wolframite... you're not my pawn, you're my compatriot... my... friend. I'm trying Wolfram, I won't underestimate them again."

"... Don't ever... act as though I don't know that Wolframite... Don't think I don't know." He stood, slowly, carefully but with a grave kind of dignity. As much as he could have for the bruise that was spreading over his cheek from the punch that had been so soundly delivered.

"I gave her to you once... She won't be so fortunate next time..."
He looked back, he didn't flinch, not outwardly. Outward he was cold and dead eyed, that gaze that seemed to pull people apart to look at the bits and scraps inside them.

"Don't let this eat you Wolframite, it will eat you whole if you let it...and they'd like nothing better." He stepped back, turned...and then vanished the way he had come.