Nights in the diner were always peaceful, and Zia liked nights where she got to close and be alone. Being out a night was her prime time, but these days it was hard to skulk around without drawing more attention than one liked from task force officers. At least this gave her a socially acceptable excuse, and she didn’t have to be home alone wondering if Luxor was doing something reckless on patrol.

Even if being alone came with its downsides. Zia once took pride in being a toned, kick boxing civilian you thought twice about draining because you just knew they were going to sock you in the face. But injuries combined with a lack of attempts to keep her strength up had transformed her into a thin and frail individual who was now staring at a particularly heavy box with a look of indignation. A negaverse officer had sliced into her rotator cuff once, and it never fully healed back to 100% mobility, but sometimes Zia was stubborn enough to live in denial about her own limitations.

And then she heard a knock. Not at the front of the house, where the diner entrance was, but around here at the back store rooms and the pantry. The door where informants or buyers usually stopped by to barter, trade, buy or sell. Distracted from her current puzzle, she brushed her floury hands on the apron at her waist and strutted over, opening the door as much as the chain lock on the inside would allow to see who was waiting on the other side. “What do you want?”

Warm and welcoming as ever.

Quote:
”What do you think I want, you old coot,” Talia said gruffly, but with a loving tone hinting in her voice. It wasn’t said insultingly so much as it was a comment between friends.

She’d been coming back and forth to Zia for a few years now. Zia would give her information, Talia would return the favor. It was hardly what one would call a normal friendship, but it was definitely a relationship that held itself in good lighting. The future had changed all things, and relationship were no different.

Rather playfully, she stuck out her tongue and gestured (but didn’t push) for Zia to unlock the door. “Let me in pretty please,” she cooed, stuffing her brooch into her purse while simultaneously looking for her senshi phone. After this she already had something lined up. It was a quick stop in her daily routine.

Zia’s eyes lidded, and then one could glimpse the completely annoyed eyeroll of suck inconvenience just as the door was closing so she could fiddle with the chain before she swung it wide and made a sweeping gesture to invite Draconis in.

Not that she was unhappy to see her, Zia was just somewhat ‘unpleasant’ in the future, if you were into understatements. She usually lightened up as meetings went on and sometimes it could seem more like good natured snark instead of dramatically acting so put upon by people on her door step.

“When you’re thirty you’re going to wish you looked this good,” She said with a snide half smile and brushed a few curls back. She dressed more conservatively these days and she definitely acted like an old coot, but the years didn’t wear on her like they did with normal humans. Maybe she’s born with it or maybe she had a magical space abomination from another dimension implanted in her chest Maybellene. “You brat,” She finished, fully smiling now. It took a few minutes but Zia usually warmed up to her constants in the war.

She undid her apron and tossed it aside. “Make yourself useful and put that box on the shelf,” She said with no qualms about giving silly orders rather than asking for help like a normal person. “You have something good? Or did you just stop into chat?” Not that chatter was bad. The Mayor’s PSA and the changes announced had been weighing on her mind.
Quote:
Talia happily complied, perfectly happy to take orders from Zia. She found that nowadays, orders were what kept her going. A checklist of things to do. Lift box, go and patrol, save civilians. They were all tick boxes on her list. One more box wouldn’t hurt. “I’m not gonna look as good as you- I’m gonna look better,” she assured the older woman.


The mayor’s announcement also weighed on Talia’s mind. An increase in energy supplies meant the negaverse were planning something big. She didn’t like it- not one bit. Especially with her and Damon being out each night- they were beginning to wear themselves thin. Between her job, her schooling and her duty, there wasn’t much time left for just plain old Talia. It was either Talia the engineer or Eternal Sailor Draconis, no in between.

“A bit of both. How are you holding up in here?” she asked gently. “I know you’re going to say ‘I’m fine on my own!’’ or something, but I’m still going to ask.” Talia was stubborn, nearly to a fault sometimes.


Zia’s snide smile remained on her face as she waved Talia’s assertion off and shifted her weight to one hip. The entire air of body language emanating a distinct air of ‘okay, kiddo’.

One eyebrow raised at Talia’s question, and her prediction was proven completely correct. “I’m fine on my own,” She said, “But thanks for the help.” Zia was a bitter recluse of a woman but Talia’s frequent stops seemed to be all it took to get the shred of humanity left in her to still show. She had sworn, after Alfheim’s death, that she wasn’t going to stick her neck out for anyone. But Talia took care of herself, and the help they had for each other was of mutual benefit. The senshi of dragons did not fall into the paranoia Zia had for most people who came looking for something.

Although she wasn’t totally fine. She had been wringing herself in knots and working later and later since she heard the announcement. She didn’t come home and discuss her secret trading with Chester, just like he didn’t discuss the fact he still went out most nights, and made donations to the refugee camps. It was a mutual understanding that they had chosen different coping mechanisms in the war and they didn’t bring either brand of struggle home with them. But permits to come and go and increased security measures meant increased chances her just might not come home one day.

“There haven’t been any leaks about what they’re planning, either,” Zia said like she knew it was what they were both thinking, with her brow knitting in worry before she realized it. Her father had been throwing money and support at the Negaverse like it was going out of style ever since they went fully public and her friends and family from ‘before’ were all genuinely entrenched in the Negaverse propaganda. Zia maintained connections because they stopped being family and became informational assets. She was pretty secure she had the connections, but that was what made it so jarring and off putting that these connections had rendered nothing in the way of new information lately.

Quote:
Talia nodded, a darker look passing her face. Part of her was glad they were past the small talk and on to business. She always felt more in control, more accomplished when they were merely throwing information back and forth. It gave her tiny shreds of hope, however small.

“I was on the news again,” Talia conceded. “I was trying to sneak into City Hall with a few others to try and get some information on whatever they’re planning, but a general spotted our energy signals somehow.” She looked down, feeling rather ashamed of her failure. “I don’t think they got my face, but it was close.”

A heavy sigh escaped her and she crossed her arms. She wouldn’t allow herself to be defeated by the media (honestly she’d been caught on tape once or twice before- never her face), but it was still somewhat disappointing that they couldn’t even break into a single building anymore. “Where should I turn next?” A task would set her mind at ease. If she had orders or a place to begin searching, it would make it a lot easier to sleep at night.


In more active times Zia might have taken the news that their auras did them in as a cue to offer her services as a creature capable of suppressing such problematic things. But now? The prospect of being physically able to go out causing trouble even if she would allow the risk was so far from her mind in the 'possibilities' sector she seemed to have all but forgotten that was a thing she could do.

Instead, her thoughts were shown in a stern frown of disapproval rooted in concern. Special, almost parental glaring. "Jesus, Talia, you're going to get yourself killed," She scolded and almost instinctively glanced at the closed door she'd come into the backroom through. "You need to be more careful; We all do."

And then almost in direct violation of the previous sentiment, she totally offered her suggestion for a new target.

"They had to have sent some sort of notice about it to the donation centers. They would've needed to make adjustments for the increased intake. Records in the medical offices might have something too. A memo, a new set of protocols, something."

She tapped her thin fingers on her blouse and glanced around the pantry uncomfortably before reaching into one of the crates for an apple. Not to eat but just sort of toss around in her unease. "All considering you do your homework first." She did her best to put on airs of irritation and annoyance at the fact Talia was making the nighttime report again, but it was easily visible in her brow and the way the corners if her mouth tensed that the reality was closer to worry and just outright fear.

Quote:
Talia barked a laugh and said, “I haven’t done homework for nearly 2 years now! I’m all grown up~” It was a jest, mostly. Talia really did want to move on from school to be thought of as a proper engineer. Unfortunately, schooling took time.

“A few of us could pose as donators. We could maybe pass off for nurses, but ******** if I know where we’d get the uniforms,” she added in response to Zia, attempting to hatch a SCHEME. “Know anyone already on the inside?”


Zia’s eye roll at Talia’s jest was cut short by a weeeeird reaction. A sort of hesitation that came before a yes stopped in its tracks. “No, sorry.”

Her oldest brother was a doctor, and Zia herself obediently showed up to be a donor right on the spot whenever she was asked. It was all part of the careful mask of being the upstanding housewife she played at, even though she seemed to have forgotten over the years how much of it was a mask and whether these backroom meetings in the diner storage was what was actually the part in a play. Pitiful check ins to make her feel like she was doing something when she was in a position to be doing a lot more.

She tossed the apple from one hand to the other, gnawing on the inside of her cheek as several different parts of her brain struggled. “I could… maybe, maybe... Look into smuggling some official uniforms out of their stock. If it’s too risky I won’t, no promises,” She said, pointing one perfectly manicured finger at Talia. “But you’d better have a plan, one that doesn’t scream ‘I’m going to get myself killed.”

She was nervous about the amount of risk involved with getting the contraband, and doubly so that getting it would allow Talia to pull off a dangerous hairbrained scheme that was going to end badly. At the same time, information on what was happening would be invaluable and probably well worth the risks.

“You know the drill; You hold up your end of the bargain I’ll hold up mine.”

Chimarii
I PUT IT IN A THREAD <3