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Usually, when Hvergelmir came out to North End Park to wait in hopes of drawing Negaversers into friendly conversations, she brought a book with her to pass the time. She'd brought a deck of cards once, too, when she'd been too agitated to read, and had run through Solitaire for a few long, lonely hours -- but this was the first time she'd attempted to get work done. Mostly, it was hard to bring anything to without it being too identifying: cell phones, tablets, ereaders -- they were all too closely tied to her mundane life, and it was too much of a risk to chance them falling into the wrong hands and her identity being compromised. This time, though, she was doing something a little less risky: knight business.

Her first order of business was something she hadn't yet tried: sending a message to Aquarius, still worryingly missing despite Hvergelmir's attempts to try and find her. She didn't know if the messages worked if you sent them to anyone other than knights, and of course Aquarius couldn't reply back the same way, but she had to try. On her first sheaf of paper, she wrote:

To Sailor Aquarius of the Zodiac Court,

Hello?

Hvergelmir Page of the Cosmos

Then she pressed her signet ring onto an orange stamp pad, touched it to the letter, and sent it away into the air.

Her next letter was a little harder. She knew because she'd tried to draft it eleven times now and kept having to start over when it didn't sound good enough.

To Camelot Templar of Earth, was as far as she'd reliably gotten. Everything past that was kind of a work in progress.

I was hoping you could purify someone for me. Do you mind?

I know a man named Bischofite who some bad things have happened to and I was wondering if you don't mind

If it's not too much trouble

If you're not too busy

I met a Negaverser who's done some really terrible things but I don't know the details but I was still wondering if you could

Do you have any limitations on who you would consider purifying

Have you ever tried to purify someone who was fused with a youma because I kind of might know someone who

So have you ever heard of a guy named Bischofite

Do you think you could do me a favor

Hi Camelot!!! How's it going??? I'm great!!! By the way, I just

Hey, so, funny story

She crumpled up her latest attempt. She didn't want to blow her shot at this because she got too worked up over it and couldn't make a good case on Bischofite's behalf -- but as a result, Hvergelmir mostly sat on her bench frowning at half-started missives, resting her head tiredly on her fist, completely unaware that she was pressing little orange stamps of her signet ring onto the side of her face each time she did.

An aura was coming toward her -- one fairly powerful, kind of like Aquarius's, but a little keener. Hvergelmir looked up, crumpling her latest attempt to draft a letter to Camelot into a ball and tossing it into the pile at her feet.

She smiled at the twin greetings: a cat, fairly friendly; a senshi, a little more standoffish. They weren't from the Negaverse, and they didn't seem to mean any harm. That was good, she could just meet them like normal people met each other, with no needless fighting or gigantic ideological arguments.

"Oh, just answering my fanmail," Hvergelmir joked. "Can't let it pile up, you know?" She folded her hands in her lap. The cat was kind of tiny and really adorable, and she was trying not to get distracted by the desire to coo in her direction. Guardian cats probably wouldn't appreciate that. "How about you two? Just out for an evening stroll?"

Hvergelmir smiled. Up close, the cat seemed even tinier, even cuter -- and she weighed almost nothing, and she was one of those cute tailless breeds! Hvergelmir sort of wanted one.

"It's my new thing, actually," she explained, gesturing to the bench as though that explained anything. "I'm out here three days a week, and I just kind of hang out and see what happens. I figured it'd be easier for Nega-people to find me and actually have a conversation if we didn't meet in the middle of, like, vigilante monster hunts. I'm trying to, um, start a dialogue, if you get me."

She was just about to scritch under the tiny cat's tiny, tiny chin when the senshi's words distracted her. She blinked, a hand flying back to her face to check and see if it really did have orange ink on it --

-- it did! --

-- and then Hvergelmir began rubbing furiously at the side of her face to try and wipe it all away, embarrassed and red-cheeked.

It was only the senshi's follow-up comment that stopped her again. Hvergelmir went still and blinked. She didn't really think she could've established much of a reputation to precede her; after all, she only knew a few people, and all she'd done was lose fights and look incompetent all the time. Maybe she was getting a reputation as the worst knight ever.

"I'm sorry," she said, voice betraying her confusion, "should I know you?"

The blonde senshi's answer told her nothing. Riddles, so many people love riddles. So many people acted like withholding information was a choice with no real consequences, or like they'd be violating some Prime Directive if they gave her too much useful information too early on, without letting her struggle and sometimes nearly die trying to find it out on her own. What was with people and secrecy, honestly? It was way too unfair.

The cat in Hvvergelmir's lap echoed those same sentiments out loud, though -- so at least it wasn't just her. At least someone else had noticed that everyone involved in this war seemed to just love being super cryptic! She was quickly coming to like this particular guardian cat and her friendly manner. The senshi she travelled with was a more unknown quantity. Hvergelmir didn't know what to make of her yet.

What had the cat called her? Iris?

Where did Hvergelmir know that name from . . . ?

Clusters of crocus, purple and gold, she found herself humming quietly. Blankets of pansies . . .

That was it! Zee had given her that name to remember, as one of a few royal senshi in known existence.

"Oh!" she said, looking back at Iris and pointing a finger as though one might point out a pod of dolphins in the distance while whale-watching. "Sailor Iris! The princess senshi, right?"

She looked back at the cat. "And you! You must be -- " Hvergelmir wrung her brain for the name she'd so carefully remembered. " -- oh, right! The heebie-jeebies! I almost forgot my own mnemonic device."

Hvergelmir wasn't really the type to withhold information for no reason. A question fairly asked was one she usually answered; this case was no exception.

"A very helpful guardian cat I know, named Zee, told me. We were discussing purification and I asked her where I could find the kinds of people who could actually do it. She gave me your names, along with a few others."

Hvergelmir looked down, no longer able to resist the urge to touch one of ********* itsy bitsy little paws with the pad of her finger.

Just beyond her line of sight were the piles of crumpled up paper on the ground. Her draft letters to Camelot.

"Though it is kind of funny to run into you both here," she mused to herself. "And now, of all times, too. Hmm."

The senshi's looming presence was intimidating, and Hvergelmir very nearly blurted out exactly why it was such a strange coincidence to come upon a princess senshi just when she needed one. There was only one problem.

Hvergelmir wasn't sure she could trust Iris.

Already, Hvergelmir was growing attached to the little manx cat in her lap, so personable and playful and polite (well, very polite for a cat, anyway). Iris, though, had been far more reserved. She hadn't responded well to ********* suggestions that she open up a little bit, and she apparently didn't like Zee, the latter of which was a strike against her in Hvergelmir's book.

The hesitation wouldn't have usually mattered much to Hvergelmir. She'd taken chances before, and she'd do so again, especially where people were concerned. It was just that Bischofite had specifically asked her not to let the word get around too much, lest his superiors find him out and decide to put a stop to any thoughts of purification. What if Iris wasn't as keen on the idea of purifying Bischofite as Hvergelmir was? What if she said no?

"It's . . . kind of a sensitive problem," she hedged, trying not to sound confrontational. "First, tell me how you know my name?"

Hvergelmir knew, logically, in her head, that reacting visibly to Iris's prying behavior was probably not going to help her situation. Theoretically, Hvergelmir possessed the intelligence to weigh the situation and decide to keep it cool, downplaying her concern over Iris rifling through her things and digging in to her personal business.

Actually doing this was much harder. It didn't come naturally to her at all. Instead, she grabbed immediately for the papers in Iris's hands to try and snatch them back before the senshi could read any more of Hvergelmir's failed missives.

"Hey!" she yelped, attempting to get them back without dumping ********* on the ground. "Those are private!"

It was too late, unfortunately: Iris had scanned a few of them and happened upon Bischofite's name already, half-scribbled out but still legible until she could destroy the letter itself.

"Someone who got himself into a bad situation," she answered Iris's question vaguely, her hackles slightly up, "and needs help getting out of it."

Hvergelmir left it at that -- which was probably about as much as Iris had already gotten out of reading Hvergelmir's letters.

Hvergelmir nodded, more at ********* than at Iris. It was sort of like speaking to someone through a translator, if she looked at it that way; Iris said things that were vague, brusque, and noncommittal, then ********* smoothed them into something more friendly. Well, the page could work with that.

"Like I said, it's a sensitive problem," she repeated gently. "There are some . . . complications, and he asked me to be kind of discreet. I don't want to, um, just talk openly about his situation without knowing who I'm talking to. I mean -- someone's life might be on the line! I'm just looking for a show of good faith, that's all."