Welcome to Gaia! ::

It'd been a while since he'd walked the path of the particular haunt of a city that he found himself in - growled at the weak brocaded edging on the buildings of the district in particular- for he'd forgotten nearly how to traverse its raised trellises; to step more carefully in some spots than others.

Too long spent walking well waxed hallways at a carefully clipped pace, muttering non-senseical phrases like 'walking feet' and 'detention' and 'excuse me, but what on gods livid growing earth is a tiktok dance, why are you 'meme-ing?'. He was viscerally out of the loop on some things. Even with summer upon them, and oh what a terrible summer it'd been so far. Even with that! Summer school was still a thing in full swing - he'd been made to put in overtime to make up for his dereliction through the rest of the year; a faculty in name only, in adjunction, and not in presence. With his most recent little vacation for 'his health'. It was all meant to 're-embolden him' in his passions and allow him to get a feel for the up and coming semester's youth.

That extra work in particular was fine - expected even - for never had a year of his work gone by before where he hadn't put in some overtime during the summer months. It was the work given to him outside of his usual duties that had surprised him. An assignment handed down to him by some petulant, sniveling little lieutenant, and he'd never remembered being so gangly and skittish in his own youth, and was this who they were bringing into the fold nowadays?!

The thought of that had him snarl and rip the missive from the poor things hands, send them off with a glare before carefully prying the request open with the point of his weapon - going pale for the carefully scribed contents within. Hand written, not typed, not to be ignored.

Prehnite had the sinking feeling that he'd been overheard recently. That one of his little conversations -though he'd doubted the privacy at the time, had been aware of the possibilities of leaks from listless and sinking lip shaped ships- or at least a portion of it had fallen free; into the right worms in the right ears to cause the kind of concern where they were assigning him tasks.

That this menial little task in particular was something of a 'test'. It had all the feel for being such a thing. It'd been a stretch of time since he'd had one, quite some time, and maybe that was why? Too much time passed being a 'person', surface dwelling and public facing. He needed a firm reminder of his roots. In the dirt, doing assigned tasks.

Hunting down errant agents that had lost their ways - slipped - and why was it always the corrupts? The fear that it'd someday be Ochres name - except he was Eternal, had put in his time, his work, proven his worth to them 'he must have by now' Prehnite prayed that rank meant something.

The one he was searching for now though? Hatsya - had she even done as much as that? "Corrupt Hatsya....I hope for your sake this all goes over quickly. I'm not looking to hunt you through every eve and glen of this besotted place." tired words muttered to himself - as he picked his way towards what he believed was her abode.

Made himself into the sort of presence that looked like it should've been demanding attentions of others and knocking on doors in the dead of night like the boogeyman. Did that very thing - stood and knocked. Wondered if anyone would open - if a powered signature would spring forth from within and answer the door...give him a chase.

Prehnite thought of all those things the same way he thought of having chai or lemongrass to drink once he was back home. A banal and bland choice - different flavors with the same ending attached to them. One way or another he was having something to drink later - one way or another he was having a conversation with the Senshi. A Need met. A Missive answered.

The sigh, for the feel of her behind him, fell like lead from Prehnites lips. Ever so slowly his hands came up from his sides, a mockery of surrender for the way he almost seemed flippant about it. The tension apparent in his shoulders, if nowhere else, and he held himself a little straighter as he stared banally at the door in front of him. Tilted his head for her words, the low feminine voice that held no yield behind it.

Focused on the color of the door, a stand out shade where so many others were white, beige, brown - wondered about what type of wood - about the density, how soundproof was it? Tch'd as he thought over whether or not he had stumbled into the sort of neighborhood where people came to the aid of their screaming brethren in the dead a** end of night?

Prehnite felt tired suddenly, annoyed and beleaguered, because really. Really? Held up at a front door by some nameless, faceless, civilian, and he didn't have the time for it. He was too - everything - for this particular off brand flavor of s**t.

Still...

"Looking for an acquaintance at a rather rude hour of night. Now, may I turn around, or will it earn me a... bludgeoning?" question inherent in that, because the tip of whatever was jabbed against the lapels of his coat, between scapula, a blunt narrow pressure there. Well, it didn't feel sharp. Prehnite knew sharp. Pierce of dagger, pierce of claw, lash of whip and fang and tooth, and whatever it was the woman behind him held him up with? It was anything but sharp.

"Don't tempt you?" hiss of breath and he was glad he faced the door so he could roll his eyes at it unaccosted.

"How about you not test me." clipped little slice of words, hands aloft as he made a slow turn on his vibrantly purple heels. Sized her up and saw her lacking, for all that her stance was perfect. For all that she looked like someone formidable limned by the yellowed front steps lights.

She was still just a 'person' - her weapon of choice little more than a lengthy stick that would give her advantage only in keeping him further than arms length.

"Unless your brother is also a woman? No, I'm not here for him." and his weapons flickered into existence in his upraised hands, a more deadly surrender, familiar pull of energy and pull of serrated trowels from the void. The weapons gleamed, poison edged, serrated, and Prehnite lashed out despite the press of wood at his throat. Showed that he would gladly suffer the consequences of being rash with his movements, if it meant teaching a lesson.

Who held up a stranger at their own door? Did no one know how to call the cops anymore? Invest in pepper spray? Own firearms?

Sea grass eyes widened at the lunge in with the pommel -fast panicked thing- and as it snapped pointedly for his face so too did his blades bite into the wood. Serrated edges catching - sawing - as he parried her back; aimed to shove her off balance.

The urge to do more than that - drop her off a roof - make her bleed for all the extra trouble she was giving him. Tempered only by the fact that she clearly lived at the abode behind him - had people inside - knew Hastya? A possibility he couldn’t discount, could punish for later. Once he figured out if the woman was even around.

One would’ve thought he’d been provided more information, proper descriptors, a full legal name, but she was so far off the grid that he was lucky he’d gotten even an address. A dusty forgotten tome of information - and who could say when it’d last been updated. Only that someone had finally noticed the lack of anything current - a red flag gone up to collect, corral, check in.

He wondered maybe if it’d been easier if the woman had simply gone and disappeared like so many others. Less paperwork for him, surely. A blame to place on someone else’s shoulders - generals and kings above him who could chalk it up to a loss in personnel.

Whatever advantage he had - he pressed it - snarled prissily “A brother you said? Then you’re a sister, which means you should really cease all this, before I make it about him.” Let the threat sit in the air, linger promisingly between them. Like sour bile.

“Hatsya then?”

How messy - and something about her upset - her plea for leniency and the wetness that threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes. The twinge of unease he felt for being the cause of it.

This was why he preferred plants - youma - the whole like. They were messy in ways he could easily parse, not like this…

Still

And she asked for her pen - her power - a weapon…

For all that she had inconvenienced him - for all that she would likely continue to inconvenience him? He rather thought not. No reason to get her anything at all, to play fetch boy for her belongings.

A blade flashed into the ether - into the space beyond space to free his hand enough to pick up the stick - dowel - sword? - she’d tried to strike him with. It got tossed into the back seat, left to live with the duffle, as he resoundly closed the door between it and her. Was it his fault that she had become so lax in all things that she’d left it in a bag in the first place, instead of carrying it on her personage?

No, no it really wasn’t.

“I think not - you’ve had chances to make other choices long before my arrival. Consider this a lesson.” he scolded, gently almost, if he hadn’t sounded so irksome for needing to do it at all. “I will however, honor your need to be - elsewhere.” To him she seemed intelligent - well trained - emotional…

A shame she’d become something he’d been instructed to inspect. That he had to be a boot heel on the neck of a creature let wild - a creature of their own making - if only because the negaverse had so many gaping failings where their eyes couldn’t follow. All those failings made up of people…

A scoffed sigh as Prehnite hauled her up from the ground, grip firm around her bicep as he dragged her along with him into the void - walked them out into a park located halfway across town.

It was a thing that people did at night - even late - going to parks. Though whether he’d chosen it for his own comfort or for the convenience of having an excuse to sit; wide benches and green spaces, he’d examine the thought on that later.

“Sit…please.” because he was not entirely without manners. Motioned to the whole of the space as he released her from his grasp and she could have the earth, the grass, the iron wrought framework of an aged park bench. It didn’t matter to him.

Prehnite flinched for the errant tug, felt her weight and pull. Prayed that she had enough steel in her to keep the bile down, and if all else failed? To vomit, not on him! Frowned at her face, the rictus of it and he remembered that feeling, of being a passenger to someone else’s musings, dragged along through space and the disorientation of never knowing where he’d be spat out.

He held still while she held on - not out of any kindness - he told himself. He simply didn’t need her fainting out of sheer shock. Though the expression on his face resembled a deer caught in the headlights. So unused to - being a thing for people, and that she’d cling at all after everything….

“It’s fine” tone softer now, with the lie of the words, because it absolutely wasn’t, not a bit of it. She had become his problem, and in turn he had become hers. If he failed to do anything about it? Someone else’s problem still, that would bring their force to bear against him for not resolving the issue of ‘her’. Tied to someone in such an unfortunate way, circumstances impermissible, and yet? There they were.

Snake eating it’s own tail, and the only resolutions he had for it? All terrible. The worst sorts of options.

“It’s fine…I forget. I’ve maybe been a captain too long.” Forced some authority back into the words, offered an apology without saying ‘sorry’ outright, because he wasn’t a child. Wouldn’t offer placation’s where they weren’t warranted.

"A lie, or should I announce my agency to every civilian that presses an attack from behind? I'm not a recruiter..*this*...was not a house call." a repressed sigh held back between the bite of teeth, and he was glad when she sat. To see her standing and stable enough to do that much at least.

Stood himself a moment longer, took her in, and wondered again at how all this had become a burden of his. Her, and she wasn't overly young, thank all that was, wasn't a *child* - or he'd have damned the thing entirely, returned her to someone else with vehemence.

"It's Captain Prehnite, and I don't know you from Adam. No more than you would know me, surely." laced his fingers before himself, a latticed triangle of tapping digits as he thought on how to best cross the subject matter with her. To drive over the bridge and off the veritable cliff of things. "Who I do know...what I know? Is Hatsya. The she that is you which lives on paper - and in lines of code. Which means I know ******** all about 'you'. " reports were too clinical a thing, too lacking in emotion and things that could be read. Lacking in reasoning, stressors, the rest. Prehnite found it was all easier to sit next to her, to start the conversation on the inevitable while sitting; breathe in the greenery, stare into space because he couldn't stand looking at her while she looked at him like he was her executioner.

"Age does things to files you know? To data bases. I imagine some overly eager fresh blooded thing tripped over yours, tripped flags up the line until it was all passed down to me to handle. You were their problem, and now? You are my problem..as much as I am going to be yours. Such is the right of captains - to handle errant lieutenants, and there is no routing it. No escaping it. Only facing it and constructing a viable solution..." the breath held released, and then he did look at her, hands splayed across his lap as anything - to ask what could be done about it all.

If she'd sought to escape them, if she'd sought to bunker down and hide? She'd done it poorly. She could've left. The country, the planet, to the other side of the moon. Doused herself in bleach and donned robes of white.

Yet she hadn't, for all the years that sat on the file - complacent maybe - felt she was safe. He could understand that. Find a connection in the feeling of it. If nothing else they'd have each other in common. A commonality of problems - a shared struggle - shared entrapment. He could commiserate with her if she found it all displeasing, he was good at that. Commiserating.

A snort for that, huff of a distant echo of a laugh. He didn't want her gratitude for having self restraint. He wondered if that'd been the real reason they'd chosen him? Enough time spent in info, spent as a public figure of sorts. Worked at the school, had an image however dully passive outside of all things.

Did they know he was pleasant with her type, senshi, youma, was he so well watched? That they would see beyond the papers that he wasn't some raving seed starved murderer? He taught children for a living..teenagers...it had not been what he'd wished when he'd begun, but it became what he had. They likely expected he'd have some patience with this one...

He wished the files held personalities better, instead of ticked notes of variants of such. No one beings thinking, believes, could be summarized in their hobbies, workplace, base virtues, or flaws. Could be entirely summarized by a series of dryly written happenings. Prehnite wondered what his own looked like, imagined if he ever saw it he'd gouge his own eyes out for the drollness of it all.

"Yes, mine, if only for a moment, and how kind of you to continue to wish to pile your burdens upon me, not only your life, but your death as well? Take your gratitude, your self degradation, and bury it. Your derision is expected, understandable even, but the rest? I will earn it." If he deserved her gratitude, her thanks, that would take time. He'd not be praised for such banal things. "The other, we'll carve out of you." the fear that he'd find her sleeping on park benches to escape. That he'd seek her out and find only a corpse, more dead little girls...No.

Scrubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes, fingers through his hair, and looked at the moon as if it held answers to her question. Begged of it. Beautiful thing, cause of all their woes. "Now...now a part we both get to hate. You wish them to let you be, let your family be?" he'd never had that sort of thing to worry about, friends, family, the whole like. Would tell her to run, except he knew from experience that there was no end of the earth the negaverse didn't exist. No country's, no natural borders, no boundary they could not cross aside from that of space itself.

"Then we change the venue. I have a room available in my space. We get some mail to be sent there, a simple thing. You take some space from your family - some time. Give them a good story. Let the dogs that come sniffing find my door instead...." straightened enough to look her in the eye properly. He wouldn't shirk from this thing. From her. It was his now to deal with. "If you've any questions? You're free to them."

It could work, it could all work, and he was an easy front man for it. He could explain that he was slotting her in behind him - infiltration was an easy branch. She already had a job, worked in the public, maybe for long enough that he could push things that way? Lure them onto the idea that if ever she was lax it was due to 'something else', cover her slack enough to get them off his back for it.