Welcome to Gaia! ::

The privileged access to the Rift that had come with the rank of Captain had not, months and month later, ebbed. She loved the decayed, crystalline mysteries that shifted from crowded to empty, loud to quiet, all with the so far indiscernible rhythms of Youma. She was aware of the mark of her rank that meant she should have more of an understanding of that- from experience in the Rift over time and also from the finding of a companion. Captains and generals had their bonded Youma to aid them or thwart them at whatever whims of relationship came from finding one another.

She wondered if there was ever statistics drawn of how many youma did the finding and choosing versus how many officers did. Was it usually to look at many? Or were all these tweens, teens and kiddos as subject to first-girl syndrome with their youma as their were with their lust?

There wasn't any bother to just jumping in headlong- obviously it was how plenty of their number did. Sink or Swim. Either she'd come out with Youma in tow or she would die, consumed by something or somethings greater than herself in the depths. But she preferred doing things in a slightly more informed fashion if the option was available- it was more efficient to have a possible guide than just blundering around the countless, fathomless roads.

She knew of at least two who seemed likely candidates for experience in the wild paths - General Obsidian and General Bischofite. She'd seen the latter more recently, the former not at all since being a lieutenant ( and so debatably even still alive). She pulled her crystal and focused on the magpie's name, stifling a chortle of the folded gothboi clothes still waiting for their owner in her loft. "General Bischofite, this is Schörl. Copy?"

There were things more terrible than timing, really, and she wasn't very worried at the edge to the answering voice- no more than she was worried of of having to wait for a more proper reply. A general's time was one of privilege.

What she could be certain of was that the smile spreading across her lips was colouring her tone in reply when his answer came, "No point in asking boxers or briefs, since I have the whole set of yours still. Maybe I should wear them. Would you like to see the show sometime?"

But her purpose wasn't to tease, and she got right to the point after a breath, "Actually, it was asking if you were willing to give a captain advice about the haunts of the Rift. Wandering just wastes time if there's an expert- I've heard rumor you go often. I need to find myself a companion."

"Sticks n' stones, luv. But if you've only got half a mind for it, I'm not going to get my panties wet waiting." It was next to impossible yet to discern the a single being appearing on the path from auras, but she did note the movement from the Hall entrance on the path towards the looming 'central' structure of the Rift from her vantage. The silhouette lacked bifurcated leg wear, which made it a good bet it was Bischofite.

His admission could have brought a peel of laughter from her, but that was no sound for communicators. She opened the breast of her jacket to double check her supply and then chose a ricochet course to Monican her way to main path and towards his chosen meeting point. She chose a way neither flashy, nor simple- it was designed to get her between points with as few rebounds as she could plot while stretching her skill scope. The landing was a little iffy, with more give to crystal dust than macadam or concrete, but she was pleased with the result. Near enough to be conversational and far enough not to be either threatening. Schörl took the last steps down from a bannister and fished out another vintage cigarette case, but this time removed the smokey treats to hold them out, "A fair price. Eight, split four and four. "

"Did you share?" It admitted she was curious, but also offered camaraderie over a shared joke.

"Perhaps you don't understand implicit language?" Schörl offered back, regardless of his handwaving. She was unperturbed, though- he was going so far as English as a second language. The Deutsche were a different culture.

The object he revealed was an interesting one. Acquisitions, aside whatever the policy was on taking supposed artifacts from the bowels of el Diablo according to the higher ups, were a new sort of field. Having more than their subspace weapons was intriguing. A benefit of rank? A mark of distinction...ha, probably not. Probably just 'you found it, you can keep it'

She let the sound of her boots falling in with his own signal her acquiescing to departure. "Does it constantly draw them, Pied Piper, or is it a triggered effect?"

Is he leaning on his rank, sense of superiority, general ‘politeness’ that I should drop anything in his favor instead of mine? But Schörl did let it drop, the weight of situational efficacy landing on just that. They weren’t getting the task at hand done if they were bickering over the finer points of conversational undertones.

She didn’t steal that money. - someone else did.
She didn’t steal that money. - she got it legally.
She didn’t steal that money. - she got it some other way.
She didn’t steal that money. - she did steal some other money.
She didn’t steal that money. - but she stole something else.

“ I’m always game for a good adventure. “ If the General didn’t know all the specifics, the acquisition must be new. He didn’t read as the type that would thumb-up-rear with a new toy or weapon. She let the silence rule between as he seemed comfortable with, and kept track of the turnings and paths. She wouldn’t put it past anyone in the Negaverse to lead someone down the dragon’s den and leave them for sport, for ‘training’, or some other juvenile-informed version of battle training.

His curiosity was founded enough, since she’d solicited the help. “Their physical evolutions allow for great breadth, narrowing the infinite is a fun paradox. There’s much of our operations that lies outside of direct combat, so something that would be useful for reconnaissance would be high desirability. “

She looked at the house front analytically, then along the path/street they’d come on. It wasn’t the most defensible position, but since some youma could fly the traditional high ground was equally useless. It made the argument of mobility against limiting the directions one could be attacked from come to the forefront of her mind. Likewise her awareness of their joint aura’s as agents- by will alone much was accomplished and commanded to rein the powers within and about them. Fearing a deadly outcome invited it, assumed it, provoked it. "Here? We're hemmed, but it limits to the up, left and right."

"How much energy will it cost you to activate?" Whatever his aims, hers were for the smooth ascendency of the organization. Losing a General of any kind, if they were crippled briefly, was a loss of a heavy investment. She preferred to know ahead of time if she'd have to spend a minute or two defending them both rather than just herself from one, ten, or a hundred arriving Youma.

"Why do anything by halves?" Schörl offered back at his laugh. "I brook no interference to myself or direct allies. "

She followed on a different jumping course, ricocheting from crystal to ledge and back to meet him at the summit. She did not have the extra umph that the General did to her jumps.

Which, for now, he was numbered among. Still, if there no direct aggression from the immediate answerers who flitted from the shifting shadows, there was no point in expending the energy to invoke wrath either. She'd rather save energy for the chosen one alone and subdue it quickly. The idea of them all wholesale ending up youma was in interesting point- what was Metallia's ultimate plan for those who served her faithfully?

Were they all going to be consumed in some Eldritch reenactment from Myskatonic fever-dreams? Or frozen in crystals? The considering no real efforts had been enacted towards creating a new order and community there in the city they owned, she had doubts about their becoming the enforcers, lords, or whatever caste of a new 'Kingdom'. That whole line of propaganda was seeming more and more like hogwash. But there was no reason to share such thoughts with anyone, General or otherwise. They were close enough to what she expected counted as treason that she would, herself, have reported anyone spouting the same through the Spec Ops lines for surveillance.

The effects of the crystal, as they watched the gather, were every bit as impressive as his raving declared. The choices were vast. The extra emphasis on how much he was being hands off was interesting, compared to the 'we' he chose for who's problem it was going to be if the youma decided to get cheeky. In it for the thrills, luv? You won't command them but you'll play?

Sounds like someone's a Sub. Not me.
She walked forward, nearer part of the throng, "If all you can do is fight and eat, go away."

"I want some special ability that isn't fighting."

"Someone to grow with- as hands clasped."

She kept the rhetoric simple and quick- these were not all brilliant creatures. She clasped her own in front of her to demonstrate how hand fit perfect to hand and locked. "Regular energy, regular adventure. We stand together, we fall together."

She reached the throng, ready to put down any that swiped at her- her skill was in dodge and break counter more than offense. None tried so far, but she moved among them looking them over that did not immediately leave out of what was probably boredom.

Monopod, Odoro-odoro, Oyajirome, Ushi-oni... They were approximate identifications, but they would do. Then she stepped on something and part of it started coiling up her, a clawed flat paw. The Captain scowled and quickly stomped her other heel further onto the creature to pin it flailing to the ground. It roared, but its movements made no other noises against her uniform.

Schörl put hand down to the wild mane and pulled the flailing beast up to her level, its strange flat feet tip-toeing and leaving claw runnels in the dust. It couldn't get purchase, at her mercy except for its forepaws gripping sharp into her arm.

Claw all you like. I will not let go what I take in my grasp without good reason.

"You make no sound, but with your voice." Brawlers and Weasels the Negaverse had in plenty. Reconnaissance it did not have much of on the field. "You make sound for yes or silence for no. Can you impart this silence? "

The weird, living, blackgreen safari rug struggled but gave a rumbling sound that reverberated through her ribs.

Schörl smiled. "The rest of you can go. I will tame this lion. Barbary of the coasts."

She didn't let the creature go, but drug it like a rug by the corner as she left the throng. She looked up at the General and the other strange youma that had joined him in converse- His own bonded? Possibly. It is hard to say with those more human if they are just making conversation or have investment.

"General, I have a winner. Not the best, maybe, but unique to plan with. That toy of yours makes a supermarket instead of a single shelf of choices. Have you considered doing something like this to break in other captains?"

The captain paid mind to the dispersal as far as if she needed to hit the deck. The very real possibility and subsequent tiff between their primitive sense of personal space in regard to possible food was just example of all the expectation. Running, however, was foolish- it picked one out as prey while the swift the movement drew attention. She just kept on out until she was clear enough to make it to adjoining crystal forms. "Or maybe the youma will just be well pleased with a multi-course dinner. I'll let as many know as I can. "

That was their problem, trusting this general to help them or not.
"At worst, he'll be a nice fur to dry off on in front of the fireplace after a shower. "

"It is not hard to miss silence in cacophony."

The attention to Rug, as it continued to struggle in her grasp, incited her to whip the creature about as though for spring cleaning. It made no sound of cracking, flapping, or colliding on the crystals. It was rather cartoon, but the flagrant defiance of the laws of physics parcel to that was rather pleasing. "The sound of our approach can locate us within our aura radius. Or a prisoner could be hidden useless struggle-bound. "

Picking off scouts one by one in a wood, and they would still feel each others aura but could not locate their missing.

"It will take some domestication." This mentioned as the thing kept struggling. Too rare the opportunity to get to break in leather. "Like you."