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Getting out and about was becoming more than a necessity of duty, but a necessity of moving anything forward. It was hard to nail persons or information down, and she'd been in enough skirmishes now that she had to have answers. Answers that peons like herself that she kept coming across weren't likely to have.

Hard-kept hierarchy was only useful for 'real' military that recruited the lowest common denominator. She was not that. She was a thinker, and she didn't plan on stopping that habit until she was literally ash on the wind or six feet under. Her choice was then to hunt as long and often as she could in 'verse space or in Destiny City for someone who could give her what she needed.

Needed. Not Wanted. Fools only wanted for answers. And they would settle for whatever they were fed.

She'd found two other hapless lieutenants, nameless, faceless, and pointless, doing whatever their duties called them to do. She'd found a few youma. She'd found bizarre things she had no idea what they were, but they seemed to be energy draining some civilians much the same as youma.
It was starting to get late, or early pending on one's view of the clock, and she paused to pull out her pipe, tamp, light and draw on the tobacco thoughtfully. The smell permeated restfully the alley around her as she sought out further and further, stretchign her awareness again as far as it would go.

There was a signature.
Chaos. Strong. A weaker one nearby, likely a youma. A third, a little light, feeling roughly the same as her own level. Probably a moonie of some sort. She started running and jumping, practicing her bounce from wall to wall up the sides of buildings. If she was going to have super strength and speed, than she might as well practice her tai chi to make a movie ninja of herself in truth. As she closed in, the feel of the youma flickered and went out, the moonie candle retreating, and the great chaos signature felt still. Looking ahead, she saw a giraffe of a silhouette in the street light.

She stopped when she landed on the same roof, but some 15 ft away. She wasn't going to be caught flat footed dealing with one that felt so like Obsidian. She didn't fancy a repeat of Creeper just yet if this one decided she would make a better jacket or hat than ally. "Taking in a fight? I felt a youma die. Does this rooftop take placed bets?"

She wondered if it was part of recruiting that members have such distinctive smiles- this man's was no less unique in devil-may-care than Obsidian's was unhinged or Bazzite's was omega wolf. "Sewage? But I guess then the smell would be hitting us."

She approached, taking a place conversationally placed at his side- the usual hand shake distance of the USA culture. But even with the line of his shoulders as she also looked down. "Just taking notes? Are you with InfO?....sir."

The boot was an odd addition to the uniform. Taking the job with more seriousness than his projected demeanor gave impression of- the remains of wound and healing and still out in the field, it seemed? Still being of use and doing even a ghost of duty. It spoke well to the dedication and expectations of the higher ranks, even if some were more unhinged than others. "Lientenant Schörl, SpecOp. "

"Maybe we're all essentially feral. Domestication really isn't any fun. But it can be to pretend, can't it?"

She didn't salute, seeing no need for the gesture except in the cases of tongue-in-cheek fun. A General....well then. So that feel of power is a General's rank in our organization. Obsidian is General Obsidian. My psychotic baptizer then was also a General. And here... Ilmenite. Not bad finally knowing three of them. That is more respectable.

"Zed? Haven't met or heard of that one." Zed....ite? That wasn't even a mineral. Chalzedon was the germanic of Chalcedony. Similarly with Kalzedon. Chal and Kal seemed easier pet-adaptations. It must be some other connection then. Zed as the letter 'Z'? Zaherite, Zinc, Zannazite, Zircon, Zodacite...she couldn't think up any others. There were probably hundreds more. Mineralogical study for her had been
limited to the necessities of pigment, cutting in order to replace broken stones in settings for restoration, and in what her cousin blathered on to her about about his gem shows.

"I'm less new now, though one gets the impression that anyone still ranked as a lieutenant is by default opinion 'new'. I've been in a few scuffles, met precious few of our own. I've spent time gathering questions that need answers and then trying to nail down the who, what, when, where and why of getting them. "

"10 months on this roller coaster so far. So not old, but not as new as I was. Stating the obvious, you aren't." But she did intone it to be a leading question to invite some explanation of himself if he were willing to give one.

So he'd been away? Mission or personal needs? Good to know, anyway, that if something really went south the higher ups didn't glass people for extended leaves of absence. Maybe it required giving a heads up, but still.

Was she going to end up in some margin note? There were probably worse things to write about. Everyone had a job to do, and if it was saying she was a cocky snot, well, she couldn't really correct them. There'd been a lot less polite opinions written in police reports from her college days. Schörl paid no mind to the idle movements of the writing tool and shifted her pipe.


"If I have my bearings right, Corner Cuppa is a few blocks that way. That being if you wanted 24 hour decent bean or tea leaves. If you want a longer drink, there's about 4 holes in right nearby that smell like ash and piss, or there's a nicer joint two blocks north- 'Seventh Level', they have a prime bar, nice decor, open floor space, good lights and sound. Drinks are good. I restored the stained glass in the faux walls they have. They'd bought them off church demolitions. Classy stuff. "

"Want company? I'll buy."

"Seventh Level, then. I'd rather do it right, if I'm going to. "
"Isn't it supposed to take a couple drinks to get someone out of their uniform?" Schörl winked over her pipe, "Jawohl"

Then with a leap over the side she started a ricochet down window ledges, awnings or whatever was available. She adored the extra maneuverability the powers lent them- they could practice martial arts in the 'real' sense of scroll paintings. Or in the case of modern depictions- Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. They could 'fly' with fists or feet if they practiced.

Hitting the pavement, she powered down and crossed out from shadows with the ease and sense of belonging that wouldn't draw attention.

"Aye." It didn't take much to establish who they were then, which was pleasantly efficient. It was fascinating how much and yet how different the seeming was between the power and the civilian masks they all wore. That pale hair, long limbs, dark mahogany eyes and a nose like that wouldn't be distinguishable without purposeful connection. Magic was a funny thing.

But one she liked. She started down the road with long strides, not worried about the other keeping pace with his longshanks. "Roll your own?"

It wouldn't take long between the light and the door to the place- a short stair down to a 1st underfloor that was mural covered with allusions to Dante Alighieri, the patrons ostensibly hand in hand with Virgil to the deepest paths of that manuscript for their pleasures and pains.

"Rolling your own is cheaper, since you can bulk the tobacco and the papers. You can tailor your flavour, too. I just use pipe tobacco when I go for the stick-form smokey treats. "

" 'Lighter Up' in Old Town shopping district has a wider selection than most of bulk leaf. I prefer to think of smoking as both addiction and hobby. " She winked at her companion, tamping out her pipe on her hand as they approached the bar. She wasted no time in hopping up onto the bar and leaning over it to dump spent tobacco into the trash. It had been a little while since she'd last been in, but the bartender was one of the regular crew and recognized her. She called him over with a wave, sliding down from the bar itself to one of the stools, "Tab will be mine. That table over there? "

She motioned to a corner spot that had a clear view of all the room, the various small groups with their little conversations going through the motions of trying to hook up before morning, or trying to have a good time. One small group of guys looked like they were probably a bachelor party doing a pilgrimage through the block and a good three bars in.
She looked at the General, "Anything you want, my treat for tonight. If we can drink together, we can certainly work together. They have food, its well done but regular fare- good open fired flatbreads. Bartender is Mick. "

Stroud whipped a menu from a little holder out and offered if over to the white haired acquaintance. They didn't have each other's names yet even, or at least she didn't have his. InFos probably had a listing out to her second kin removed. That's how underground worked, so far as she knew.

She gave Mick a smile, "I'm trying something new - Milky Way Martini. Two ounces Dark Chocolate Vodka, half ounce Vanilla Vodka, and one ounce Butterscotch Schnapps. Shake in ice, but just the glass. And a garnish is always appreciated, love. "

She waited until the had they drinks and were settled before hazarding more, "You mentioned being out of town 10 months. How long have been with the outfit?"

He was certainly a mellow one, maybe the standard for something like the Info branch- say little, gather much. The way he looked around was not comfortably, though what it was she couldn't finger. Emotions beyond the basics wanted more than 50 words of speech between. "If you'd rather somwhere else we can bottoms up and move along. "

"I refurbished the bar there and rehabed the windows there that frame in the alcoves and down the stair. "