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Unlike a great number of officers and agents of the Negaverse, Moonstone spent copious amounts of time in the Rift and it's surrounding areas. She was at home in the shadowy spaces like she was not in the bright sunlight that struck Destiny City.

She lived in the barracks, the rubble slowly being cleared and rebuilt was her home. Which was why when Tourmaline started calling for her, the Haida captain was actually leaning against part of a still standing wall, whittling. Who is looking for me, and why? My file? How strange, to think one would come for me. Rising from her resting place, Moonstone tucked knife and carving away before stepping out where Tourmaline would be able to see her.

"It is my home." She spared a thoughtful, measuring look for Tourmaline; she'd seen this woman before, but had not interacted with her. "I am not the only officer to live in the barracks." Her lips quirked, not to smile though - she spoke true: there were several, though the number was small, smaller still after the big Order attack.

"You sought me by name...what can I do for you, Captain?" Moonstone sat on the remains of a half-wall, pulling out her carving and returning to it; paper-thin curls of ash dropped to the floor before Moonstone.

"I assume your business is more pressing than asking after my bedroll."

Though her eyes did not rise from the wood taking crude shape in calloused hands, Moonstone gave every indication that she was paying attention to Tourmaline from word to gesture to location in space relative to her own.

"Ah yes, the Ascension ceremony." A glorious day, followed by many less so, but such was a soldier's life. Moonstone still held pride in being allowed to find favor with Metallia on that day. Her lips quirked a bit, "I would not believe all of what you hear, Captain. Things are often...exaggerated." There was nothing unkind in her tone, however, and she continued after a moment, "I am pleased to help in any way I can."

The carving - a hint of a horse, perhaps - was displayed on the flat of Moonstone's palm for Tourmaline's benefit. "A horse, perhaps. The wood has a shape within, I simply set it free."

Returning to picking the little wooden horse's head from the ash, she glanced at the other captain curiously, "How can I help you, Tourmaline."

Moonstone knew that she was not 'usual' among their number - her dark leathers stood out in stark relief amongst the more uniform blacks that were typical of the officer uniforms, as did the decidedly Native design elements of said costume. There was little about the Haida captain that could be said to blend in, even after so many years; she had noted very few others joining with even remotely similar aspects - the one known as Umber had held a similar aesthetic, though that was all she could have said for him as they had never worked closely.

A flared nostril and tapered muzzle took shape, fine veins sweeping back to wide-set eyes and pricked ears, all picked out with small, economic movements of hand and blade against wood. Tourmaline made known her purpose: Wasgo.

"Of course. Personal youma are no great mystery." But perhaps her connection to Wasgo, the close way she worked with the youma, the way the beast was like an extension of herself...was? Now she banished blade and carving to sub-space and brought two fingers to her lips, whistling sharply, two notes high and piercing. "For all his value in my heart, Wasgo is no more special than any other personal youma, captain. I will share anything I can, but I am not certain what I do that is so different."

Moonstone rose, standing atop the crumbling wall, reaching a hand down to Tourmaline. "You should wait up here." From a distance, a baying could be heard, a haunting sound somewhere between whale and wolf. "Wasgo comes." The ground trembled, little pebbles and stones began to move, clatter, and vibrate with the heavy gallop of the youma's approach.

Leaving Tourmaline on the wall, the Haida captain dropped gracefully down and moved to meet the great beast churning ground as it bound towards her with abandon. A softly spoken command brought the youma from groaning full-tilt to gently creaking trot until it came to a halt and shoved it's gnarled, massive head against Moonstone joyously. "I treat Wasgo as an extension of myself, not simply another weapon. That may be the difference. Come, meet him."

Did speaking to the other captain about personal youma require calling Wasgo to the scene so that Tourmaline was introduced to the overgrown beast? No, it did not. But Moonstone felt it was important that not only did the curious cat hear about the things she'd read, but also see them in action - seeing was far better at cementing an idea than hearing, after all.

Wasgo huffed at Tourmaline's approach, curious but not in the slightest worried about it - his mistress was completely relaxed, so there was no danger. Even so, the youma was attentive and alert, just in case there might be some danger to Moonstone that would need to be thwarted.

"In return for affection and extension...Wasgo has served me far better than many other personal youma have served their partners." It was good to hear that Tourmaline had been taught in what was probably an 'old school' world of thought when it came to the youma - they were as important as the weapons granted to them.

More so, in Moonstone's opinion, but she kept that to herself.

A hand command had the massive youma standing still as though actually carved, lifeless. "He actually enjoys being petted, much like an actual dog." Moonstone watched Tourmaline thoughtfully, reaching up to scratch behind a heavy whorl in the beast's hide. "Have you found your personal youma yet, Tourmaline? Or would this be part of why you sought me out?

It is a process, lonely and often difficult. I spent weeks seeking after Wasgo, being tested." Her tone implied that everything had been worth whatever price had been paid, the soft expression that came over her face almost that of a lover. "Some find their youma quickly, connecting well and true. Others must prove themselves. It depends on the officer and the youma...I'm sure I speak nothing you don't already know, Captain."

She could understand that, though having Wasgo had done wonders for centering her own sense of self. "Wise, Captain Tourmaline. One does not necessarily wish to end up becoming a Youma." Some would, but Moonstone felt that Tourmaline was not one of those officers that would have been counted among that number.

Moonstone rested her head against Wasgo's massive, drooling head, not bothered at all by the acrid scent of the growing puddle. Was the dinner invitation simply a nicety being observed? No, that seemed...unlikely.

"I would be honored, Captain." Wasgo whined and received a soft admonition that had it dropping into a sort of monster-loaf-sulk.

Her personal youma's sulking did not deter Moonstone, he was a big baby - a dangerous, beautiful, fantastical baby...but a big baby none the less. "Don't mind him, he probably thought you were Proustite and would have pepperoni for him.

"Youma really can't eat normal things, but Wasgo seems to like pepperoni an awful lot." The energy orb had the beast perking up, its great tail creaking as it wagged rudder-like behind the massive youma. Moonstone took the energy and crooned to her partner in the same language she'd used before, then wound up to throw the energy orb; Wasgo tore off with a joyful cry.

"No time like the present."