Welcome to Gaia! ::

Paced the hard surface, crunch of heel over rough concrete laid flat-top. To the edge of the ledge and back again. He liked them now, the heels. Not for the height, but for the neat little noise stepping on point made.

Got what women liked about them so much, maybe? They did s**t for hiding his presence - but he’d never wanted to be ‘stealthy’ anyhow.

Wanted to be heard - to be seen - an agro draw - obvious threat. The new outfit? The abilities? Ooohh - all definitely flashed with that.

At least Albite thoguht so, as he peered over the edge one more time.

To look down and out - teeter up to lean just enough to tease gravity’s hold - crest his upper body over it and dare the ground to snatch him back down; just enough to stare at everything below.

Pinprick ants - people that became scattered pins of color and mottled shadowy shapes in the dim light of the setting sun.

“So Firebrand…” reverb of tripped wires that strummed with energy beneath his skin. Albite practically vibrated with it, brimmed over with what buzzed and lay barley held beneath the thick dermis. Had played hither n thither with gathering energy up for all the reasons..

“You’re sure about this yeah? I mean - *I’m all ******** for it.*” Temptation that screamed he jump - plunge into it like learning to swim, get his a** tossed into the middle of the lake and make it back to shore or drown in trying.

Except this wasn’t a lake..

“Or…okay, all for it, but - uh - maybe not from this high up? Yeah? Unless…” and if Faustite thought he could be would. Maybe the teleport s**t was like how birds taught their young? Maybe he needed booting out of the nausea inducing nest?

Ledge that suddenly became appealing even as he was tugged back from the lip of it, stood at attention and gave it in full to Faustite.

Warmth fo claw tipped touch that drew on his arm, that he would’ve liked to capture and cage up in himself to stave off the dawning knowledge being imparted on him.

The ledge suddenly seemed the kinder choice. The quicker option to fail for - because holy mother of space and time combined….

He was **********.

Nodded along as he listened with intent, and every bit of praise he wanted to bleed for Faustite having an honest to gods revelation of a conversation with him. Knowledge that all sunk in and *stuck* - with hard fast permanence on the marble smooth surface of his mind…

All of that which pointed hard fast neon coated arrows to the fact that he was ******** - not any gently into the night s**t - nope - a snuff films worth of ********.

The kind that led him to wondering if Metallia was having a laugh at his expense, and if Faustite remembered who exactly he was talking to - and the only reason he didn’t burst out laughing and then subsequently into flames? Was because if he’d opened his mouth to interrupt his boss - he mighta just vomited instead.

Swallowed all of that down and breathed past it while Faustite went on - grateful for the reprieve from needing to ask a single damned thing for once - because —-

“I remember - ‘vividly’ - and like….if there’s anything you want from me, now? Unh, before?” And he hadn’t made a will yet. Would let the orbies stay with Faustite, knew the girls would love on’ em even when the firebrand didn’t. Didn’t have anything else worth noting.

“C-cause Firebrand um—“ and the look on his face screamed ‘hi I’m Albite, have we met before?’ A wonder he didn’t have a ‘have you seen this Senshi’ and ‘return to sender’ tags pinned to his godamned chest as it was.

*Whatever…*

Hungry - he could do that - use that - focus on that above all the s**t that he was not at all good at focusing on. The ******** even was a gable!? How would he know gable if he met him!!

W h a t e v e r -

The idea of finding a man named gable on a steepled colorful roof in space was too much, cracked him open on the laugh that had gotten lost in his overthinking, swallowed the ******** fear and let it go.

Either they’d have fun or they’d die, it was fine, it’d be fine, best case scenario? He’d be walking to food, worst case?

Teleported inside a ******** - he was going to get them killed messily!? Or like, drain himself dry trying to get from a to b.

Didn’t stop him from laughing about it though. <********, yeah - alright - paint a mental picture of the place and walk my a** to it. Haah ‘food place’, or starve trying! Cause I’d rather not jump if I don’t have to, not the first time at least?” Snorted around a smile, would impart on Faustite how greatful he was for all the words after they’d finished the training proper.

Slow slow blink of comprehension. Lights turning on just above the slowly extinguished dumpster fire of endless 'nope' thoughts that lingered in the corner folds of his mind.

"Ohhhhh...." everything clicked on, and someone was finally home, and maybe they'd forgotten the ******** pin code, but they knew how to work the panel now at least. "I did - all the things - I swear--" he'd gone and looked, and taken notes, and the stout girl behind the cash register and menu board was sweet? Not too peppy, not too bitchy. The people in the back were clearly of some mix. Spoke their own language between themselves, seemed busy, hard workers, and the food.

Cheated just a bit - had gotten himself something small enough to spike an apatite, because who knew how much energy he'd use on the whole thing? So if he got something hot and savory and lightly spiced. If he had raspberry tea with it, because he only craved soda sometimes and....

It was the place though. Place, not people; the color of the red light and green sign, and the neon should've been off-putting, just like the tables and seats that were reminiscent of a sonic drive through, except the area was clean. Clearly swept on the regular. A bright red awning on fading polls that cast shade above the square of it, as people stood in lines around the dark green roofed shack and then filed out after they got their orders to sit, n wait, n mingle. Kept to themselves or were loud with others..

Something Jaliscos? N they had tortas...and Albite really wanted a torta right then....or maybe....

"I mean, if your offering to eat me out firebrand. I am ******** not gonna say no to that?" knew that wasn't what he was saying. Could feel it in his increased gait, the way his pacing ticked up a notch. Watched that for a second, marveled at the swish and sway of flames that curled in ways that matched their masters movements.

Mesmerizing s**t for his simple mind. Let him quiet his own s**t by washing it over with misplaced humor and a simple distracting visual. Would've been okay really, with continuing to be the ******** fool - the fool that ******** even- would've preferred that to...

Except supposedly whatever was in his head wasn't a real possibility? If he ******** it up he just - stayed- right where he was. Wished that wasn't so appealing - wished his hunger could've outpaced his hesitation for trying.

Needed--- "Give me something else? Something other than hungry and horny. Cause I got those in spades n aces - but that's not...enough?" which was weird as ******** to say, because usually it was more than enough for him to get up and go get s**t done.

To sigh and close his eyes and let everything else fall away just enough to focus on clipped bits of thoughts that were muddied by his own, what, fears? Wants? Mix of all that lurked in between --- "Man it's ******** weird being afraid of like, uh, the unknown? Usually that's my jam..." hissed click of a huff, whine of confused other as he stepped further back and just..."C'n you...c'meere for a sec? Just like - hold up on the quick step." soft humm of an ask, because he didn't know what he was trying to do with it. Just knew that everything else he was doing kept hedging the drains of failure.

“Thank you” breathed a sigh of relief for the familiar touch of claw and heat - burn that bordered between fevered pitch and blistering pan-sear, and Faustite was finally standing *still*.

Still enough for him to get a grip. On himself, on the sensation of hunting for more.

Drew in a breath and drew on the odd source of other. Closed his eyes and just - if he focused on the familiar, instead of the strange. Inhaled blistering hot, ozone snap, and felt eased with the scent of fire touched metal strangeness. Found it was all ‘safe’ to him. Every time he’d gone out, gone over, been called in and back - all those times tinged within a black scorched cradle of fire.

Nothing dangerous about that though. About being baby stepped along with Faustite through his void walks…

Side by side play. s**t that he got. Even better it was something he needed to do, if it was something Faustite needed from him?

“You’re good firebrand - we’re good - I promise.” because hadn’t it been what he’d always wanted? No more backseat teleports, no more getting yanked all the ******** over without comprehending the how.

Slid rough palms up through the dark grip of his boss’s hands, over embroidered fabric, circled grip at the elbow because ———

That felt familiar, too. Like green rippled tin roofs, painted what must’ve once been deep emerald and had since flecked to peel and show the rust beneath it, cheap ******** thing atop the red brickwork that stunk with fryer oil that made his mouth ‘water’.

Gasped and fell back, stepped back and through, circled grip that cinched tight as he yanked. Harder than he meant to —-

Thought he’d snapped the ******** heels *off*, clipped stagger and rough dismount. Might’ve dented the roof that bled black and red flecked tin beneath them.

The drain for it felt like being shanked with a very particular type of knife, like iced fatigue, cold loss that sunk deep in his chest, and had him shudder and heave for the air he’d given up on keeping. Made him curl even more around the warmth he’d pulled with him. Made him smile *vicious* - against the pale sweat that stole across his body. Couldn’t speak for how hard he shivered with it, but he could smile.

So had he.

Fearsong that'd fluttered under everything - that coursed heavy and quick through his heart - rabbit-beat of muscle buried deep beneath breast and bone that still felt like it'd burst free of him. He liked the fear usually, aftermath of endorphins that flooded in and fed his goals.

It was everything that came before that'd ******** him up. That was what he had Faustite for though. Heated weight that'd landed on, held over, that'd levied himself up just enough, though Albite wished he could've kept him there. Could've pulled him in and clung - would've crowed over their shared survival.

Held himself as he was instead, some semblance of 'still', as he heaved constrained little breaths, felt it all catch in corseted bosom. Was about ready to tear the laces straight out and ******** 'off' - left it all and just - observed the other while he settled in on what had done it for him. Admired Faustites flamelicked and heat scoured spine. Fine inner workings and finer wisps of fire that surged within the cage of his center.

Looked for all the world like a cat on a hot tin roof. Albite would've reached out to touch, eyed the small space between those fine-bone shoulder blades, because he wanted to soothe.

"Only atrocious, huh?" and Faustites words felt almost kind. Broke him open enough to laugh for them, tinkling of sound reminiscent of broken beer bottles on tarmac, something glassy crushed under a tire. He'd thought they were 'done for it', too -- fear that had enveloped him just before the plunge. It was a wonder they hadn't broken through the roof, or ended up on some fragile awning, or even tripped a**-end over a metal grated table and into view of the world.

"Some warning woulda been nice though - yeah - backseat teleporting is such a b***h." and even being in the drivers seat? Albite wanted the breaks, gas, and gauges. Wanted a better manual that wasn't magnetized to the compass of his 'senses'. That wasn't so centered on feeling his way through it - child wading into the kiddie pool of ichor only <********> it was deep and had enough undertow to kick his a** straight out into the deep-end.

"Oh...oh..does it mean we get to try it again?" tease firm in tone, because Albite was always ready to play. To chase off the fragile hauntings of something that felt like near death with something a little more lively. "Do we still get tacos." whisper tagged on after, as if it were some secret revelation, though the smile that lit his eyes said he knew well otherwise.

********* Yes* - Tacos!

The quiet cheer he buried in the back of his brain. Sat up almost too fast to track Faustites harrowing escape off the rooftop, almost felt bad for how he looked; except he lived in the same life-raft. Felt the distinct sensation of schadenfreude for having someone to suffer along with him. Travel buddies in tandem sorts of trouble.

Though mostly? He didn’t want to be alone in his feelings — like some anomaly that determined it was only he who had to see stars and puke hearts at the thought of stepping through space on heels that were ******** not made for walking.

Crawling was good - great - hands and knees paced after his boss. Wore a grin on his face that ate miles like his newly granted cleavage ate cup sizes. Wished sometimes that the hole which held his soul could’ve also held other s**t — liked how women were always pulling things outta their breast pocket like it was a division of subspace itself.

Wondered if that could be a thing - Senshi soul pocket - starseed pocket?

Whatever —

Got beckoned - answered the call — peered over the edge with hands that gripped tightly enough that he wouldn’t drop himself on his head if he checked — looked both ways even. Just to make sure he didn’t drop himself down into foot traffic — or onto faustite — or —

“Think we can get tacos like this? Sexy Senshi stripper and his walking fire hazard..” hissed down mirthfully, whisper that was overly loud before he followed after - landed in a heavy crouch and held it -- because ******** kitten-heels for ******** up every other thing — ached something fierce for having to learn how to put his weight on the hind of his heel and roll each step to the balls of his feet — heel to toe hinderance of it all. How it slowed him up, made his steps more careful, for all that he wanted to run headlong into everything.

“Man, I miss my boots…” sighed to the earth before he cast warm clay looks up at Faustite. “Sorry for uh — the turbulence. I’ll work on it, yeah?”

Had to work on it - had to figure out why it wouldn’t come naturally - had to pick up a better trick; or forever spend the rest of Senshidom face down in his own sick and on someone else’s arm. Like a godamned damsel.

Which, given the heels?

Sat his fat-a** on his heels and thought about it. Long and hard. The unfairness that he couldn't take Faustite anywhere as himself -- well -- not entirely true. Could think of places he could take him as 'him'. Bonfires on seashores and haunted house attractions. Could take him to a refinery and play 'ghost of the molten lava man' for shits and giggles. Could turn him into an urbanized legend for fun.

Woulda been a thing. He'd bring it up, for sure, next time around. Next outing...The little thrill that sat in his center for that, because there were going to be next times, because he'd worked so hard to ensure it!

Felt the pay-off in increments and inches for all that Faustite was already bringing up next week. Meant he had time to practice at least. Meant that -- as his eyes cast up on the fire born into flesh. Smirk as he dropped the guise entirely. Shook his power loose like a wet dog shook water free. Immediate relief as he stood on combat boots and in khakis that held pockets aplenty and a wallet ready to be of use.

"Oh - ******** - yeah, thank you." thanks that fell freely. Grinned for the granted reprieve, while he took into consideration every embered word that fell outta his firebrands mouth like little crumbs of blessed knowledge. One more thing to pack into subspace - except if a fight broke out he'd have to know how to hop around in heels.

In-between that though? Could be booted up....for all the times when everything ached and he got sick of practicing his model walk for funsies.

"I'm gonna learn *how* - or I'm gonna snap these things off on every manhole cover n' grate in this hellscaped city. I c'n learn." wanted to, on some front, just so he could say that he had learned. Just to prove that he was capable of mastering one more thing, cause surely the cosmos of costume designers that were wouldn't have given him heels if he weren't meant to use them?

Except maybe what he was meant to do was figure out how to pop himself around the city at leisure without relying on his usual go-to means of transport...

"You're always so bundled up nowadays Firebrand. I love it, s'like, the winter season looks good on you, yanno?" rushed up to catch his boy on the shoulder with a heavy hand, snatched his general into a hug that took up his side. Poured thanks out in form. "C'mon, lets see if we can squeeze tenthousand calories into like -- a fundido -- ooh -- or a whole stack of enchiladas. ******** me, but tacos are the best, yanno? Especially with barilla -- ya gotta get the taco juice." went on like a hound, doggedly, gentlest of tugs on a slim shoulder tucked under goose downed bulk.

Waru was excited -- famished for all the energy he'd pulled outta thin air to drop them where they were. His stomach snarled eagerly to regain it in the form of food and warm outta the way eateries.