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Tick.

He'd called ahead, at least, checking with Requiem to make sure it was already he swung around his dorm, that she was alone, that she wouldn't get in too much trouble. Maybe he should have invited her over to Quinn's place, so she could get a good look at the problem for herself, but considering how panicked kitty-Quinn was...well. He'd thought it wiser not to submit her to more embarrassment, to more trouble.

Tick.

Plus, he kind of wanted to be the one to rescue, this time. Petty, perhaps, and maybe just a touch chauvinistic, but he couldn't help craving a little attention, wanted to feel like a hero. Acceptable, so long as he actually succeeded.

Tick.

So he stood under her window, a handful of ragged pebbled in one hand, and flinging them up toward her window. He wasn't much of a shot. Most of them collided against the wall, only half connecting with the glass with that satisfying sound. The last one, hopefully, would sail through an open window as she came to investigate.

He was in civvies as she dragged him off: Veer had at least had the sense not to come to her place powered up. Let her be grateful for that. He blinked as she hauled him along, somewhere between annoyed and bemused, jacket hanging crookedly and a bit sloppily off his shoulders. He looked a mess. But then, he always looked a mess.

As she leveled up, he blinked at her, his mouth tugging down at the corners, maybe just a little bit offended. He didn't henshin up. Not yet, anyway. "What the hell?"

Veer tugged his arm out of her grasp and straightened his jacket as well as his spine, to gain a little height. Sure, she out ranked him. Bully for her. "What's with the attitude? At least I didn't pop out of your mirror or something."

That mollified him some, at least; soothed ruffled feathers enough for him to relax, shoulders rolled and eyes only shooting back over his shoulder one more time. Poor roommate, whatever that little smirk meant probably wasn't good.

Veer cleared his throat, a little uneasy addressing the captain in civilian clothing, but at this point it seemed just as strange to power up. So he adjusted his coat, folded arms over his chest, and settled in.

"Leto and Navi are cats." Blunt. Straightforward. He raised his eyebrows.

Instead of irritation at her glib reply, Veer's eyes lit up with something sharp and amused, arms folding over his chest. Let Requiem joke and make light. He was doing the right thing here, and no one could say anything about that. He'd ventured out here alone, in the dark, and stood outside her window, and he'd barely even cheated with the windows.

"Nuh-uh." He raised his eyebrows, not quite smirking. It was smug. Probably a bad idea to be smug at Requiem. "I'm talking like a foot high. Four legs. Furry tails. Cats."

Yes. Very smug. He folded arms over his chest, rolling his shoulders in his leather jacket and flicked a look around the place. Maybe he should be in uniform. As it stood, if she thwacked him a good one -- the way Leto would if he had that look on his face -- it'd hurt like a son of a b***h.

"Not a damned clue. They're at Leto's, just now, I think. The hope was that you'd have some kind of helpful suggestion, but..." Instead, she seemed inclined toward gape-mouthed babbling. Veer shrugged.