It was not exactly a well-hidden secret that Destiny City was not the safest place to live. With people disappearing, strange costumed folk running around, and monsters doing more than creeping under your bed—hell, there were plenty of more appropriate, family-friendly cities to venture to.

And yet, people stayed. Remarque assumed it was for the wonder and opportunity that Destiny City provided. Certainly there were many opportunities to be had while here—if only you knew where to look.

Remarque was in the park.

Not because he was looking for opportunities, but because he was dwelling on them.

Only just a little over a year ago, he had met a man named Eric. Eric was odd, and not necessarily the type of person he would have normally associated himself with—but then again. You do strange things in space, he supposed.

He had met Eric while in the Surrounding, and formed a sort of friendship. He had befriended him after he'd donned the alias of Remarque—and they had vowed to meet at the park every Thursday evening to exchange information.

It had been Remarque's attempt to spy on the senshi in a way he couldn’t do himself. Eric was not particularly cunning, but he was friendly and curious, and Remarque had tried to use that to his advantage.

Which would have worked out a lot better if he'd ever seen the man again.

It had been winter when he'd last seen the male, and while Remarque had thought about him occasionally, he had quickly drifted into the back of his mind. He had been strangely nostalgic these past few days, however, and it was only a matter of time before he recalled the redheaded foreigner and contemplated whatever had happened to him.

He hadn't seen him in Mirrorspace (though considering the size of that place, he doubted he'd find him if he was stashed there). That didn't mean the Negaverse could have gotten to him—or any other homeless fellow or criminal. Eric's 'semi-homelessness' was bound to get him in trouble sooner or later, and Remarque could only wonder if that time had come in the past few months.

He perused the park pathway until he came across the area he had met with Eric so many times. It was Thursday night, at the proper time. Eric was nowhere to be seen—yet again—but big surprise there. After the first few weeks of him not showing up, Remarque had found other ways to occupy his Thursday evenings.

Had Eric ever called Jett, he might have returned to the spot, but communications had been entirely absent.

Sometimes, he wondered if his music had gotten him somewhere. If one of the street side listeners had hooked him up with an agent or a recording studio or something.

The probability that something had happened to Eric was phenomenally high—and this disappointed Remarque. He stood, hands on his hips as he looked up into the sky.

That damned sky, why couldn't he stop staring?

Angrily—annoyed—he lowered his gaze and forced a scoff.

He was not the sentimental sort, though had caught himself getting soft these past few months. The fact that he was even here, now, was sign of that. Looking for a homeless man with no merit or worth, no common sense, and least of all, no information.

Why was he looking? Did he care about Eric? Wonder about his well being? Had he been concerned for him? Curious—hopeful—for him?

…Of course not. No, it was all about the information. Remarque wouldn't have allowed it to be anything else. If he wasn't getting anything out of it, what was the point? Emotions were troublesome—annoying. What should he care what happened to Eric past the fact that now he was shy a source of intel?

Coming here had been a waste of time, and Remarque should have known that. He kicked at a rock, as though that would dispel some of his anger and disappointment, though when it rolled lamely to rest against a tree stump, Remarque forced himself to turn away.

Eric was gone—what did it matter what had happened to him? He wasn't here, wasn't useful.

There was energy to collect and senshi to corrupt. Remarque couldn't afford to mingle in the past. He left the area, and the park all together, telling himself that whatever had happened to Eric was of no importance.

No matter how hard Remarque tried to tell himself that it really didn't matter, far too large a part of him was still hoping that Eric had found a way to make ends meet. Hoping that he wasn't in some shallow grave and that he was instead out, pursuing his dream.

But thinking such would have implied sentimentality, which was absolutely not in his blood, and Remarque knew the moment he acknowledged such feelings, weakness—and then his downfall—would be quick to follow.

He ought to have cursed Raven and all her influences; certainly he'd never have gotten this way if not for her.