Welcome to Gaia! ::

Usually, Axinite would have been at his desk and simply insisted Faustite let himself in. Instead, he opened it only a few short seconds after he’d heard him speak. The room was cozy, in the way that Axinite liked it. Bookshelves full of trinkets and texts, and a desk full of cookies.

It didn’t seem like anything had changed, including the dark circles under Axinite’s eyes.

“There you are,” he said, with almost tangible relief.

Faustite was on time, Axinite hadn’t been kept waiting for him. Unless, of course, you counted the two years he was gone.

“I was worried about you,” he said, because it didn’t seem like he was incapable of not worrying about any of the agents. “Come in, come sit down. You must tell me everything, are you all right?”

He gave him a look over, quick enough to take in a quick assessment of his status, and then gestured towards the desk, an invitation to any of the chairs before it. Axinite himself moved behind his desk, but didn’t sit just yet. He hovered by the mini-fridge behind his desk, and the always present tea-pot. “Do you want a drink? I’ve got a little bit of everything, nearly. And you can help yourself to anything,” he nodded towards the platter of sweets, and maybe only then realized that he should slow down. He relaxed almost immediately, with the forced calm he’d nearly perfected, and seemed much more like the General King he was supposed to be now that he was back behind his desk.

He stood, hands on the back of his chair, and waited.

Axinite shrugged a bit as he poured Faustite a cup of tea and passed it over. It was fragrant, a mixture of bitter and sweet, but he brought out a little pot of sugar and kept it on his desk for Faustite.

His answer followed a sigh, and he said, “I wish I had better things to report. Developments have been slow. Our Queen is hard at work at something, but she is not yet ready to share. I think she’s tired of me asking, she’s begun to remind me the importance of patience after every inquiry. But I wouldn’t be very effective if I wasn’t always looking for more information.”

He folded his hands in his lap and leaned back in his chair, but finally shrugged.

“We’ve been meeting quota, at least. Though, it’s nothing impressive. We’ve had new recruits, we’ve gathered information. Romano’s is flourishing, it won a few awards last year. I can get you a report on a more detailed account, I keep logs. I'll send it to your tablet later, if you like. For now, everything feels like a small step, now, but. We’ll see what the future holds. Things don’t usually stay this quiet for so long, so I’m a bit uneasy.”

He seemed to be mulling something over and then shrugged, and shook his head. “We’re growing, and growing stronger. That’s the important part. But your absence has not deprived you of participation in any ground breaking ventures. I’m surprised you managed to handle yourself for that long in the Rift. I’m proud of you, that shows incredible resourcefulness. Regardless of if goals were met or not, you’re here, and alive, and that means there are unlimited opportunities for the future.”

It was Axinite’s job to pry, but he did so with what tact he could manage. “Tell me about the Rift, tell me what you learned. About it, about you.”

He reached for a cup of tea himself, and sipped at it, finding some sense of normalcy and calm now that they were seated and conversing.

Axinite had listened with genuine curiosity, for a realm even he had not fully ventured into. Perhaps, if things had been different, he might have even enjoyed treading into the Rift and exploring. Here, now, he would never have the opportunity to. Personal issues aside, he simply had too much to do here to afford himself the freedom to get lost in any unknown location he couldn’t immediately teleport out of.

The Rift had many mysteries, things known to perhaps Metallia herself, and it was clear that Axinite listened with rapt attention.

And then, Faustite poised his own question, and Axinite had to consider the question. He adjusted positions in his chair and mused, “If we’re being honest, reluctant.”

He tapped his finger on the cup and seemed to take a few seconds more to prepare a more detailed answer, but he didn’t grant himself the opportunity to take a sip before he did so.

“The factions are constructed based on function, on purpose. A half-youma specific branch would divide, but I’m not sure to what end. We have half-youma officers already integrated into the branch that best suits their interests. I know there are additional difficulties that can come with being a half-youma, and we are working to expand our resources to accommodate such--but I would be interested to hear what you were hoping, what you would have had in mind for a half-youma branch?”

Though Axinite seemed to have reservations, he was at least visibly considering Faustite’s words. His own index and middle finger tapped some slow, refined pattern on his desk--not a tune, but a sequence. One tap middle finger, a pause, two taps index finger, a pause. Repeated.

Whatever thoughts he had, he held onto them and continued to mull them over. There were factors he could understand, and complications he could see, but he didn’t seem like he planned on expanding on his own thoughts until he gave Fausitite’s appropriate rumination. “Go ahead,” he approved, “As plainly as you like.”

Axinite watched him with a thoughtful look--a sympathetic one. There was no pity, only an understanding, and an emotion that was probably true compassion. He wasn’t necessarily easy to read, but he didn’t project a hostile or uncaring demeanor, and he couldn’t imagine mocking Faustite’s plight.

“You need friends,” he suggested. “You feel alone and outcast, and you’re struggling to connect with others. You feel out of place and you can’t find a foothold to find your way back in. A branch isn’t the answer. You need people who understand you. People who care about you.”

Whether it was the correct assumption or not, Axinite seemed like he was willing to do whatever he could, anyway. “A branch might not be the right answer, but I wouldn’t dissuade you from looking into forming a team. You might benefit from finding others who feel the same. You are driven, and resilient, Faustite. And I appreciate your honesty.”

His lips pursed, like maybe there was something personal he might have said to contribute to that, but instead, he just offered an encouraging smile. “I don’t doubt that there are those out there who are suffering in silence but don’t know how to make any strides forward. You’ve more than earned your rank. What can I do to support you?”

Axinite regarded him once more with a curious eye, taking in everything that he could about Faustite. It was a thoughtful look, far from intrusive or prying, but Axinite seemed to have come to the conclusion that there was far more to Faustite than he would ever be able to infer from appearances alone. He wasn’t intimidated by the thought, or by anything about him, but things were always easier--people were always easier--when they read like an open book.

“You can take a glamour,” he suggested, though obviously had no experience on his own when it came to masking something as substantial as a partial youmafication. “It won’t help forever, but it would be enough to give you some time to relax. You could have time to let people get to know you.”

It was barely a bandaid, even, and didn’t solve the problem Fausitite was concerned with.

“I can’t guarantee there are specific items that might help you, but I can look. There’s a possibility we might find something that can suppress the output, but I can’t promise you it won’t come with other repercussions even if I can find something like that. But, I’ll look. You can check the library and see if there are any logs of artifacts they’ve recovered. Metallia is a bit stingy with what goes where, but I think I’ve earned a favor or two. If you find something, I can see about acquiring it for you.”

Only possibilities, no promises; he wouldn’t lie to Faustite.

Axinite seemed to sense this was something of a goodbye; the tea was drained, and Faustite hadn’t asked for more, and he was giving gratitude in a way that made the General King assume it was a prelude to departure.

“Any time,” he assured. “You’re more than welcome to drop by if there’s ever anything else I can do. If I’m not in my office, just send me a message on the tablet. I’d be interested to keep up with your studies, if you find something interesting while you’re researching, I hope you’ll let me know.”

His smile was back in place, and he seemed to have found some sort of peace from this conversation. At the very least, he had something else to look into and he didn’t have to worry about his mind stagnating.

“Would you like some cookies to go? Really, I’ve got too many,” he said, and reached beneath his desk to draw three plastic containers of mixed cookies, as if he needed to prove the claim.