Welcome to Gaia! ::

The tip of one pale finger rolled idly around the rim of her mug, occasionally dipping into the warm foam within before disappearing between full lips. This carried on for a few moments, Porsha's attention sliding around them to take in the rest of the cafe; the bistros, the patrons, and where they were in relation to everyone else. Secluded, the surrounding din muffled by the low hum of the fan beside them. It had her raising her brows, lips pursed, before Slate's voice pulled stealy eyes back to him. "So," she echoed him, the flicker of a smile gracing her lips before she fell quiet, eager(and apprehensive) to learn the reason he'd asked her to out here.

Alone.

Without Shale.

The invitation had come as a bit of a surprise, but intrigue and a desire to make cohabitation proceed as smoothly as possible had propelled her to accept. Besides, she rather liked the young man. He was a breath of fresh air. So unlike his brother in manner and belief it was startling. Not at all what she'd been expecting.

That little smile faded though as he began to talk. No more than a sentence into it, and already she didn't like the direction this conversation was headed. She didn't answer his questions, because his tone implied he had an inkling already. She could have lied, but she wasn't entirely sure he'd buy it, not now. Not with how much he apparently seemed to know. It was a shocking amount, made her wonder when he'd found the time to n** off to the library so much. Made her lip twitch unhappily as he mentioned ease-dropping on her and Shale's conversations in the morning when they thought he was sleeping.

She lifted her mug, sipping at the chia latte unhurriedly. Taking her sweet time in responding to that last pressing question. Considering her options on the matter. Slate knew too much. There was no getting around that fact. He'd effectively tied her hands on the matter, and left her with very little choice on how to proceed.

She could kill him...but Shale would probably frown at that. She could recruit him--it he choice she was leaning towards--but again, Shale wouldn't be happy. Well, Shale was just going to have to forgive whatever happened tonight, because his brother was effectively backing her into a corner, and leaving her with no choice.

"I don't suppose," she finally spoke up, lowering her mug to hold it between her hands. "You'd be kind enough to just forget everything you think you know, would you?" It was a long shot, but she asked anyways.

Cheeky little s**t.

Silver eyes leveled on him over the rim of her mug once she brought it up again, lips resting against warm porcelain, occasionally sipping at the tea within, though her interest in it was waning. It was something to occupy her hands with. Something small to focus on so she didn't just reach across the table grab the front of his shirt so she could drag him out into the alley behind the cafe.

She could have assured him that the apartment was safe, but again, there was no way of doing so without revealing more than she wanted to. At this point it seemed utterly moot anyways. Slate had already stuck his nose where it didn't belong.

Lowering the mug, she tapped her finger against the rim as she rested her elbow in the table between them, chin cradled in her palm as she turned her head to look out the window. Listening, but also thinking. Debating. The White Moon had their claws in him already. If she didn't move swiftly they could lose him altogether to their lily white asses, and wasn't that worse than anything she would have to do to him? Wouldn't it be better to bring him over now, keep him with them?

Yes. She was sure Shale would agree.

Besides, Slate wanted power. At least in that respect Porsha understood. It'd been what had drawn her to the Negaverse. Painite had found her in the gym, and she'd woven a tail of power and strength, of a chance to stretch her wings. Porsha had eagerly accepted, and she'd not once regretted her choice. Maybe Slate would be the same. Maybe Shale was wrong about him, and the younger brother would have an affinity for their particular brand of work.

As he reached that final pressing question she was turning her head back to face him, hand lowering as she smiled sweetly. "No, I suppose I couldn't."

Pushing her tea away, she stood up and fished her phone from her pocket inconspicuously. "Follow me, Slate." No further information given, the smile brightened a degree or two as she started for the door, leading him out and down the street, headed for the narrow strip of shadow that indicated an alleyway halfway down the block. As she walked she tapped out a quick message to his brother.

He knows. I'm sorry, my hands are tied.

To her credit, Porsha managed to keep a cap on the threatening air she had a tendency to project while in uniform. As they slipped out onto the sidewalk she'd glance back over her shoulder, making sure he was still following, but also offering what should have been a reassuring smile. Given their conversation, her sudden demand for privacy, the meaning might not have translated quite as well as she hoped.

As they walked she glanced back at her phone, rereading the message as Slate attempted to lay out new safeguards against what he must be assuming was impending injury or death. It made her chuckle, lightly. "Oh I'm sure you're right, but unfortunately your brother has little say in what is about to happen." It was a bluff of her own, sort of. A threat that wasn't really a threat, because Porsha had no intention of bumping him off. But Slate didn't know that, and he'd been such a little s**t in the cafe, the general felt very little guilt in letting him believe the worst for the moment as she lead him towards the alley.



Lips pursed as she considered a second message to the elder brother. Something that might mitigate his worry, although she knew that to be a long shot.



She hoped he realized how very little choice Slate had left her. He was smart, in his own way, surely he realized how tenacious Slate could be, how practical the Negaverse was. All the same, it left her with a budding kernel of dread at the pit of her stomach.

As they reached the alley she'd pause, holding a hand out to usher him ahead of her as she turned to face him with that same sweet smile. "After you."

"A certain practicality..." She murmured under her breath as she frowned down at the message he'd just sent her. Kill him. Porsha hadn't been expecting that, not after the way she'd watched Shale mourn for the younger. It threw her, just a little, and she kept her head down, face turned away, until she had her features schooled back into that cool smile once more.

Not that she needed to have worried much, as she looked up he was lingering near the mouth of the alley. She thought, for a moment, she'd have to go get him, but after a moment he started walking forward. The corners of her lips ticked up a little higher on one side, and as as he reached her, asked of her intentions, she grinned. "I thought you wanted answers," she mused, chuckling faintly. "Having second thoughts?"

It didn't matter if he was, there was no going back now. He'd dug himself too deep for her to just let him go.

But she did't want to kill him.

Head tipping to one side, she held a hand out to him in an inviting manner. "Come here."

"These answers are not suited for public consumption. A cafe is no place for this conversation. Nor a street, nor a park." The apartment would have worked, though Porsha was wary of lingering in her uniform inside the building, least it shine like a beacon. So far they seemed to have escaped notice, be it by chance, or some system set up by Zac and Ever to keep their signatures masked. Probably the later, considering the building was inhabited by no one save agents of chaos.

When he took her hand she'd draw him in closer, smiling sweetly. They were very nearly on eye level, and that created a certain sort of intimacy that was lacking when you had to tip your head to meet a person's eye. "You assume we're staying here. We're not." The alley served as convenient cover for what was to come next.

Porsha had to admire him though. Even here, even now faced with the unknown and what he assumed to be a threat, he still ran his mouth. It was either boldness, or foolishness. Regardless it highlighted a certain brashness that the girl liked. She carried the same. Respect was given where required, but she'd spit venom in the face of her enemies on the way to hell.

Tightening her hold on his hand, she drew him into the circle of her arms. "Don't let go," she warned, the fingers of her free hand sliding up into his hair at the nap of his neck.

If her were perceptive, if he were paying attention to all of her, he'd notice the change. The press of different material between them, the all of dark fabric that tickled his cheek. Her energy spiked, shining in the alley for all of a second, before they were disappearing away from the crowded streets and their trendy shops. They would touch down again on the front steps of an old church a few blocks over. A less traveled section of town, there was metal scaffolding and sheets of plastic around a few of the buildings, including the one she lead him into with a vice like grip on his arm and a deceptive amount of strength--both of which he wouldn't be subjected to if he came willingly.

The heavy door closed easily behind them, and with only the sun filtering though stained glass, the large room was dappled in colored light, but still dim. She kept walking until they neared the alter, then released his arm so she could face him. "Running is pointless." She'd point that out now, voice as flat as her smile.

She stood with her hand on a cocked hip, and the other up beside her hood, dark fabric sliding between slender fingers before it was pushed back to settle around her shoulders. Features reflected cool amusement, sharp eyes and a subtle curl of full lips. He was still running his mouth, still trying to talk his way into safety, and when he reached the bit about murder the general couldn't help but laugh. "Slate, you should know by now that we operate apart from the law." He'd certainly done enough research. "If I wanted you dead, being surrounded by church walls wouldn't make a lick of difference."

In a way it might have been comforting. At least if he took it to mean she didn't want him dead. Which was true enough. "You'll walk away from this, probably." it wasn't a promise she was willing to make, but Xe didn't have any intentions of ending his life. Shale was another matter entirely.

"You are correct, your brother and I are both well aware of what youma are, and what they are capable of doing. You are also correct in assuming we have very little to worry about in regards to them." It was time to deliver on the answers she had promised him. "We are of the Negaverse, tasked with ridding earth of the silver moon." Among other things. "You have met a few from their ranks. They're all very smooth talkers, but if you were wise you would be wary of trusting them. They're dangerous." But weren't they all?

She dropped her hands, stepping through the fractured light until she was right in front of him again. "I'm General Xenotime, one of the ranking officers along the masses. Your brother is my subordinate, hand selected." Cool fingers came up to brush his chin, grasping his jaw with a deceptive gentleness. "I suppose now I'll have the set."

A kiss on his cheek to distract him from the fingers on his chest until they were sliding inward, then that grasp on his jaw tightened, almost vice like, to keep him from jerking away from her. "You wanted strength and power? I'll give it to you." Cheek to cheek, she murmured beside his ear. "Pray you find it to your liking, and do not live to regret your inquisitive nature." He would have duties, tasks, orders he would no doubt disagree with, and she would be there to make sure they were carried out.

Her fingers closed around his starseed, caressing the sharp edges almost lovingly. Then pain as chaos flooded down her arm and into his chest.

Almost immediately she knew something was amiss. There was resistance where there aught to be none. The general blinked, puzzled. Her hand felxed around the seed in Slate's chest, but there was something off. "s**t." Irritated, she withdrew her hand and released him, letting him fall if gravity claimed him, or stand on his own if not. She was busy now, going for a crystal from the pack on her hip, and speaking rapidly into it. "I don't know. It'd different. I think this ones a senshi. I need a cat, and general-king." A pause, pale features twisting in obvious annoyance, then the crystal was tucked away again.

For a second, the space next to them was empty—as it should have been.

There was no normal reason why anyone should have expected someone to spontaneously appear a few feet off to their side.

But then, there wasn't really much about any of this that was normal.

In the next second, a petite, teal haired woman appeared holding a pretty, pale cat in her arms. She was stroking its fur, a placid smile decorating her face. Even with as small a form as she had, she had such a presence. To a powered individual, the energy signature she gave out was immense; to a civilian, she might have even just seemed important. "Xenotime," Laurelite greeted, nodding to the woman before she eyed her companion. Though she eyed him curiously, she continued speaking to the woman. "I hope you don't mind me dropping in, it would seem I was the most available. I brought Katya. You said you might have a senshi…?"

It was a fairly rhetoric question; she set Katya down on the ground so she could do whatever she needed to. "That would be quite an exquisite find, I think. Katya, would you mind…?"