Seldom had Scholomance stalked auric energies since his time spent servicing the Negaverse. He developed a distaste for it as a result, given that most often he was to try and lure these Order contacts into the jaws of the Negaverse based on his own feel as an agent of Order. He spent enough time shooting down his own reputation that, given his newfound freedom from their tyrrany, he needed to repair more than a few bridges.

So when Isaiah capitulated to Scholomance that eve, he did so with the expectation that he might find another agent of Order in the city, and that he might be able to converse with them. The thought crossed his mind that they might know of his past treachery, and they may not forgive him for such transgressions made for the Negaverse, or even understand his reasoning for not simply standing staunch against their demands and reduce himself to nothing more than a head and torso. But these, he knew, were anxious topics over which he had no control. What benefit was there in dwelling on them now? Instead, he shifted his focus to the slowly warming night air and the clear skies, which offered more than enough light for navigation by rooftop.

Scholomance spent the greater part of his evening scouring the Business District for signs of senshi life, but seldom did he find any. Perhaps the whole war called for a day of rest, in which not even youma saw fit in roaming the streets. Inwardly Scholomance pushed himself for a last round about the perimeter of the district, and it was in that last round that he discovered a most peculiar sight.

The Saturn knight thought little of the page energy he picked up in his vicinity, but as he closed in on the locale to gain a better understanding for the location of this page, he realized a very important - and very bizarre - fact. The page actually resided in one of the nearby establishments. And as Scholomance peered where he could - through the windows of closed storefronts, or beyond the lighted expanses of a clothing shop, or further into the dining area of a local restaraunt - he slowly came to understand where the page chose to linger. And as he peered through the window of the last building, a 24-hour fitness gym, Scholomance spotted the heinous peculiarity.

The page in question was pumping iron.

Not that Scholomance minded - he often enjoyed a good show of rippling muscle - but the sight of it struck him as downright bizarre. He hardly hid his look of consternation when he reached to tap on the glass, then beckoned for the page to meet him outside.

daisymilk
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