Welcome to Gaia! ::

Bazzite was sunning himself, stretched out over a flat expanse of purple crystal somewhere deep in the Rift. If the sun were present down here, the locust would be happy as a cat in a sunbeam. Sadly, Bazzite was left to imagine what warmth would feel like on his scaled skin but nonetheless, the stretching helped alleviate the stiffness in his joints from sleeping for so long in one position. With a yawn, he wrapped his hands behind his head, breathing in the scent of decay and dust and blood that surrounded everything in the Rift. Tiny ferals shaped like centipede crawled over his leg and he didn't move, not at all bothered by the sensation of thousands of tiny legs marching.

Turning over with a yawn, the youma rested his head on folded arms and stretched his wings, a practice he found calming. Up, down, outward, a circle, then up again went the delicate, insectoid wings, catching what little light there was in the Rift and refracting it.

It was then that he smelled flesh, human flesh. The scent of life and all things perfume and shampoo and the smell of modern. Lifting himself up, Bazzite crawled to the edge of the crystal and looked down like a sphinx to Oedipus. He remembered her, that blonde and that determination. But the youma on her shoulder? That was new. Oh, and what was her name...

"Milady..." came the sleepy reply. "And to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Bazzite gave her a smile as she ascended to be nearer to him. Her scent became stronger, full of life, full of memories of topside. The youma didn't move from his position and watched as the youma on the Captain's shoulder moved with its master. Their relationship was unlike his and Benitoite's - this youma clung to its master like a lost child. Or perhaps a lazy one.

He nodded in response to Schorl's statement about the youma party. "That I am. One and the same. And you are..." Bazzite tapped his chin with a long claw. "...Schorl, right? I think that's right. I remember you - tough and strong. You look just the same, aside from your friend there."

He gestured to Barbary, who seemed quite content to rest on Schorl's hip.

"Step in it? Haha, I guess that's one way of putting it, Captain." came a metallic reply. Bazzite rolled over to stretch out his long limbs and scratched at his chest. Her comments about being much taller, blue and toothy made him grin. "And handsome, Schorl. You forgot handsome."

Sitting up and settling into a cross-legged position, Bazzite regarded Barbary oddly. "You... have a rug as a partner. Interesting, but I'm sure he's useful if you decided to partner with him. We can't have useless youma. Food chain and all that." With a dismissive wave of his hand, Bazzite's eyes locked onto Schorl's again. "Benitoite is, and will always be, my General. I was his Captain and now I'm his partner." The youma's smile was warm, as if thinking fondly of the tiny blonde. "He summons me topside to eat and stretch my legs every so often..."

Suddenly the locust beast dropped onto all fours and closed the distance between himself and Schorl by crawling like a giant blue bear. "Speaking of... while you can't order me to do anything for you, you can always ask. I'm sure Beni won't mind me helping out a friend..." Plus, anything to get him topside and eating fresh starseeds.

Bazzite tilted his head - he hadn't heard any recent mention of a tea house. "Oh? Details, Captain. I'd love to know what my dainty dish is up to topside." If his General was creating a fancy little tea shop, Bazzite sincerely hoped he would be invited and dressed in his Sunday best.

The youma chuckled at Schorl's confidence, something she never seemed to be without (not that it was a bad thing in the slightest. Then she reached out and booped him on the nose. Bazzite screwed up his face and crossed his eyes to try and stare at the offending digit. As per her request, out came a decidedly long and probably purple tongue, but it was really too dark to tell for certain. "Lie bis, dofder?" he slurred.

Schorl certainly knew how to liven up the place. The youma idly wondered why Barbary looked so bored.

She wasn't one to be predicted, that Schorl. Bazzite chuckled when the Captain licked his tongue with her own. It quickly disappeared back into his mouth and he tasted fancy wood and a musk that was uniquely her. "I'll dress in my Sunday best to check out this tea shop. Thank you for the update, Captain." If he were sitting up, his legs would have been swinging to and fro like a giddy schoolgirl listening to the latest gossip. "Maybe I'll see you there?"

The youma nodded slowly with each statement Schorl gave, most of which was correct. "Yes, I have to stay here unless I am summoned or ordered topside. But if I'm up there for too long, I get very tired." He scratched the back of his neck lazily. "I bet Barbary oozes into a puddle and sleeps until you call him, if his current behavior is any indication." A quick glance at the youma in question seemed to lend truth to it.

"I do sleep, but I don't dream. I don't want to dream, honestly. Then I'll miss the smell of laundry detergent and pancakes in the morning. I miss showering but I definitely don't miss body odor. You can't imagine how a teenage boy stinks in the morning and how bad deodorant bars are at covering it... at least now I'm dry and clean." A smile graced his lips.

"Ah, so he does have a use." The youma tapped his chin, not having guessed Barbary's sound-dampening abilities. Bazzite just figured Barbary might be nothing more than a decorative rug of sorts. "Good job, Barbary, but don't overdue it. Pace yourself."

Bazzite chuckled.

"Dirty is one thing, but smelling like a trucker trapped in his cabin for ten years is something else entirely." Waving his hand this way and that, Bazzite attempted to paint a picture for Schorl. "Imagine Tanzanite's flared a*****e combined with shame, basement and used underwear. It's unholy, probably would melt your nose hairs." With a solemn nod, Bazzite remembered the first time he caught a whiff of his friend Zippeite. He was left reeling and couldn't get the stench out of his uniform for days.

"In any case, we should have tea sometime, Schorl. Get all fancy, dress up..."

Imagining Barbary flat as a pancake with assorted picnic items and a parasol atop him made Bazzite chuckle.

He made a gesture as if positioning a tophat on his head. "Do I get a fancy hat too? I definitely want a fancy hat if we're going to be out in public. I can't embarrass you two, you know. I don't think it'll be easy to find a tailor that'll make me a three-piece suit though. They usually run screaming in abject terror when they see me. Am I really so offensive?" Bazzite made a mock snivel, his lower lip protruding in a disgusting sort of pout.

Her next question made him tilt his head. Looking down at the space between his legs, Bazzite shrugged in response. "Nope, all Ken doll down there. One big benefit to being youma is you never have to worry about underwear or finding a bathroom. We're 100% efficient."