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There really weren't many people that had much reason to be up on the top floor of the apartment complex. Porsha, of course, along with Slate and anyone else in the fighters team, but aside from them, that particular floor just didn't get that much traffic. So when, upon coming home from a radio interview that evening, Pirsha noticed a light on beneath the door of the apartment adjacent to her her immediate thought was someone poking their nose in where it just didn't belong.

That particular apartment belonged to Zac and Ever, general king and general in the Negaverse and old friends. They, however, had left some years ago with no real word as to where they were going or if they'd be back. After a year had gone by Porsha had gone in and covered what remained, and once a month she'd had it cleaned for the sake of not letting the dust get too bad.

It was not cleaning day, nor would they have been here this late.

"Excuse me, but little mice that go looking for trouble usually find..." She trailed off, hand on the knob still, silhouetted in the doorway. "...it." for a long moment she stared at him, wide eyed and unbelieving. "You're back. Holy s**t." She'd honestly never expected to see him again, half convinced he'd been called away elsewhere, or dead.

For almost a solid minute she just stared back at him, but pale features melted into something incredulous as he mentioned writing, or rather not writing. Porsha folded her arms, hip and shoulder leaning in against the side of the door frame and one ankle crossing behind the other.

"You know, there's these things called cell phones, they're real ********' handy when you wanna get a hold of people. Let'em know you aren't dead. You know, that sort of thing." The words were laced with sarcasm, but there wasn't much bite behind them. As annoyed as she way with that underwhelming response, she was still happy to see him,

And Relieved.

"Thank you," she acknowledged, pleased that he approved of how she's taken care of things in his absence, and suddenly curious if he'd be taking over management again now that he was back.

"So, ah...where were you?" And where was Ever? They'd both left at the same time, and only one had returned.

She nodded, noting the evasion still, and decided to let it go for now. He'd tell her later, or maybe he wouldn't, but he didn't owe her an explanation just because she counted him as a friend as well as a superior officer. "Alright." Whatever had happened to him, to them, he wasn't ready to divulge it.

Letting her arms drop to her sides Po wandered into the apartment, fingertips gliding over the top of a sheet covered chair. Not much dust, good. Her money wasn't wasted on the cleaning crew she'd hired to maintain the rooms not being used.

Bending, she lay her elbows on the counter, chin in her hands as she watched him. Brows creasing as his hand plinked against the faucet, but was voicing his unwillingness to get into where he'd been and it distracted her.

"It's fine." It'd have to be. "And I can fill you in on what I know, though I just got back not that long ago as well from a year long international tour with the UFC, so I've likely missed a few things as well."

It was clear from where Porsha was standing that there was something unfathomably large weighing on the man's shoulders, but he'd already expressed that he didn't want to talk about it. It sort of tied her hands, because she wasn't entirely sure what to do for him now other than fill him in as desired.

However, it seemed there was something he seemed willing to share with her, cryptic as it was. Po looked down at the hand he'd offered her, the one that'd given that soft clink against the faucet, before flicking pale eyes back up to him.

For a moment she just stood there, brows furrowed and lips pursed. And then, slowly, hesitantly, she reached out to curl her hand gingerly around his fingers.

And then jerked back when her fingers brushed metal. Straightening up, she turned so she was facing him fully, eyes wide. The crystal let him disguise himself. So following that logical trail... "You lost your hand." At least that much, maybe more.

Lips pursed Porsha took her hand back, pale eyes lingering on Zac's. By looks alone there was no way to tell, but of course that'd been the point. Drawing in a deep breath, she held it for a long moment before letting it out slowly and shaking her head. He'd said he didn't want to talk about it, but to then set up a situation that all but demanded questions, it just seemed a little cruel.

She stiffened though at his observation, features tightening as she dropped her gaze from him completely. Funny how the loss of a person didn't leave a noticeable mark. It felt like it should. Like the lingering damage should have left cracks and fissures in the skin. It didn't, and of course he'd have no way of knowing yet who in their ranks had fallen, but in terms of missing pieces, Porsha couldn't say she agreed that she wasn't missing any.

But that was neither here nor there.

Wetting her lips, the fighter half turned to lay her hands against the counter top, pushing against it to heft herself up so she could sit on the edge. "Axinite and Lepidolite seem competent, but I can't say either have really stood out to me since they'e arrived. I don't know what state the information division is in currently. Hessonite," she paused, for just a second, venom leaking into her voice as her lip curled. "Has single-handedly gutted the Special Ops division and made it little better than a shell of it's former glory."

She despised the woman, and made no efforts to disguise that fact.

Porsha shrugged, toying idly with one of the looser threads at the cut off hem of her shorts. "I think most of us settled into Gen Ops, cause there wasn't really another place for us that fit right." Not that she didn't have plans, but she could fill him in on that later.

She glanced up again at that small pause, lips pressing into a thin line as she watched him rubbing at his hand and arm and then pushed forward. "Here." Soft fingers touched lightly at his wrist, gently drawing his hand out. Cool to the touch, her mind fought with her senses as she smoothed one hand up his forearm waiting for the moment the metal gave way to to actual flesh and then stopping there.

"Beside the new sovereigns there hasn't been that man changes to the Negaverse." She considered that, thinking quietly as she kneaded fingertips into the muscle of his arm. They way she would have for one of the fighters at her gym. "One of the corrupts has figured out a possible means for more of his kind to ascend, so there's that, I guess." It came with a light shrug, her attention on his arm.

She'd half expected him to pull away from her but when he didn't she flicked her eyes up to glance at his face, pale eyes lingering on the new scars that cut across the bridge of his nose and brow before letting her gaze fall again. She wanted to ask him what had happened, badly. The question rested at the tip of her tongue, begging to be let out, but she bit it back.

Under her thumbs she could feel the rise and dips of other scars that weren't immediately obvious, but she didn't focus there. Instead she continued the slow massage of his bicep from the point the prosthetic started on up to his shoulder. It had to ache, even if it wasn't new. "I don't think you ever get used to missing a piece of yourself," she said softly. "I think you just learn to live with it the best you can."

And again, that pang of loss making her chest tight.

She was glad he was back. Not just because the Negaverse needed one of their commanding officers back, but because he'd been one more friend and ally that'd disappeared. At a certain point she'd stopped holding onto the hope that the ones that went missing would find their way back.

"I'm glad you're back."