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Albite wondered how much of an absolute shitshow it all was going to be. Wanted to tear out his lovely flame scorched Generals throat - not for the extra quota - no. He was het up for fetch quests as long as the day was short….or whatever…

No, he was irate over the continued hunt for offices. Axinites, Kamacites, now this one...aquajetarines? Jet black opals? Something that sounded like a JetBlue, SkyMiles, a mineral that was a marriage of a high end airplane company and the sea.

Oh, it was Aquamarine, and the ******** didn't have the audacity to have his own office!? Apparently it was some joint custody thing, like a shared kid, or a pet? The amount of skinny, pretty, stilted little Lt’s he’d galred down, roiled over and super imposed his presence onto, in order to ******** learn that interesting little tidbit.

He imagined Faustite’s laugh, flickered flame-pop crackle that would have echoed and burnt up all the space and air between them. If only he could’ve seen Albite frustrated, ready to eat his own dreads when he’d finally, ******** *f i n a l l y*, found Aqua’s ‘office’.

Albite didn’t knock, didn’t care to knock, didn’t have enough sense to have to care about knocking. Generals, or kings or queens, all doors were obstacles to be mounted. To be walked through like they were paper mache, and he a wrecking ball errantly thrown in their direction.

“Hi! Yeah, which one are you? Cause like, apparently I need..Listen I’ll take literally anybody in here. I’ll call you aqua if you want - buy a ******** nametag and slap it on someone. So long as I can meet this freakin’...you wouldn’t believe my General? I burn his office down, like, just a little bit, right? Not even all the way! The man goes on and wants my soul for it...or not really, cause like, I offered my soul? Picky b*****d refused - not like he didn’t have the chance at it - all ‘get to Eternal, Albite’ n s**t..I Swear.” rambled on without pause, brief rant of introduction before he took a breath.

Sucked air enough to actually look over at the body he was speaking to, in the room he’d barged into….at….

A very pretty blond. Huh. He’d thought Aquamarines were supposed to be blue? Go figure.



Usually, if Aquamarine was disturbed when he was in the middle of work, it was because someone knocked on the door.

Normal people knocked on the door, because it was the polite thing to do, or because they were intimidated by the thought of bothering a General, or because they didn’t want to startle the room’s occupants with their sudden arrival. A knock was the expected courtesy. The only one who didn’t always knock was Jet, but it was Jet’s office, too, and Jet didn’t barge in like a ******** maniac.

Aquamarine jumped in his chair. He dropped the pen he’d been writing with, which skittered over his papers and rolled to the floor. The abrupt jerking of his body caused one knee to bang against the side of the desk, rattling the partially organized chaos on ******** gnashed together with anger and pain, Aquamarine glared at the intruder — some ******** Senshi he’d never met, didn’t care to, especially now that he was barging into offices without permission. The face might have been familiar from a previous mission (the Rift, maybe?), but Aquamarine didn’t make an effort to put names to faces unless he had to, so the Senshi may as well have been a stranger.

He heard very little of the man’s rambling. Something about a General and a burnt office, and… someone named Albite? Was that him? Aquamarine didn’t know anyone named Albite, but he knew a dead ******** Senshi when he saw one.

“The ******** is wrong with you?!” Aquamarine barked at him, rubbing the soreness out of his knee. “What the ******** do you think you’re doing? This isn’t a ******** playground. Get out, and if you have something important to say, ******** knock, or someone higher up than me will be getting an official complaint about another dumb ******** subordinate who never should have been recruited in the first place!”



“OH! Like, I mean? I’ve got a long list of s**t that's wrong if you want me to go over it. I can totally...ah...that’s not an actual question for like - now - is it? Cause I did come here for something else. I was looking for someone, actually. Though maybe I’ll just…” Lilt of amused grin that slowly fell into a wince of remorse for the sight of the poor guy, and how everything around him just sorta scattered.

Poor stressed out pretty boy.

He looked really upset for someone with an office. Maybe because he shared it? Though it seemed like an endemic thing. A frequent recurrence, that Albite kept coming across all these people with offices and they always looked pissed off in’ em, or freaked out, or stressed out, or….

The pretty blond was talking though. All sorts of words hissed from his mouth and Albite tilted his head, dog to call, and took a moment to string them together over the sound of his own inner monologue. “Oh, yeah, s**t I’ll just - hangon n’ leme just - uh…'' errant grabbing for the handle of the door. Words that tumbled from his mouth like lead; that scattered like everything the blond had been startled out of holding.

Albite slowly, ever so slowly and carefully backed right back out of the room while closing the door before him. Stood in front of it - on the other side of where he wanted to be - and waited. Wondered if this was the sort of thing where being good at teleporting would’ve come in handy? Was that how it was done? If he’d just ‘popped’ into the guy's space. Except he didn’t want to get stuck in a wall, or bisect himself with a chair...or….

W a i t e d - - -

Long enough that he felt it was safe to knock. Counted off enough seconds in his head that he deemed it would be some kind of polite to try knocking. Wondered if he should announce himself as still being himself? Except the blond seemed like he must’ve been smart, he’d know, he had an office after all - even if he shared it. Still! It was an office he had, like all the other intelligent, hard working people Albite knew. He could just - keep k n o c k i n g.

Carefully! That was the thing. Polite knocking. Definitely the right thing to do.



Aquamarine liked his office. It was roomy even with all the furniture inside, because he and Jet went through the trouble of fixing up one of the larger, abandoned rooms that used to be full of junk, and clutter, and debris from who-knew-what. There were scenic paintings on the walls to make the space feel homey, and a double bed behind a room divider so he and Jet didn’t have to go to the barracks if they wanted to nap. Most of the furniture was new, and because they picked it out and transported it themselves, rather than relying on any of the standard issue desks and chairs around the castle, they were able to ensure that it was comfortable, too.

Their office was calm and quiet, a tranquil place to hide away and get some of their never ending work done. Sometimes they even had classical music playing in the background.

Suffice it to say, this Senshi did not belong. He was loud and uncouth, and clearly had no intention of being anything but.

The knocking was just as grating as the Senshi’s voice. Aquamarine lowered his head and banged it against his desk, twice, before he shoved himself out of his chair, stalked toward the door, and ripped it open before another knock could land upon it.

“What the ******** do you want?” he snarled.

Just as annoying as the talking and the knocking was the fact that Aquamarine had to look up. Even the stupid heels on his stupid boots didn’t keep him on even footing with this one.



“Again, I can give you like - empire state long lists of want’s. Nice of you to ask about ‘em! The thing I ‘need’ right now though, is someone to be ********? Whatever! A General with a Gem name? Cause I’m uh - tasked - with getting the equivalent of a never-ending gobstopper's worth of quotas filled. For reasons which may or may not be my own damned doing, but who needs details, really?” and maybe if he smiled wider, and spoke a little less ‘boisterously’.

He could do that - could totally, absolutely, positively, m a n a g e doing that!

Would start right that second even. Give the guy enough time to take in what he was saying, and make use of it. Honestly, who would’ve turned down a free work horse? Muscled mountain of energy snatching ‘********’ on tap, at the beck n’ call of - what was apparently a cute blond in an office? No, not cute, pretty. Pretty enough to remind him of an ex or two. To make Albite think of penthouses and champagne. Tittering laughs and high ceilings laden with crystal chandeliers.

Pretty, this one was Pretty with a capital ******** ‘P’ that popped like a b***h blowing bubble gum that was pinker than her lip gloss. Not a bad thing, not at all, just…

He was starting to think Metallia had a thing for pinups. Had a goddamned ‘type’. Would ask Faustite, make sure to bug him about it after. For all he talked about Generals and their influences on outfits and the grand tailor of all the things that got schemed. There had to be some reason that every person he ran across in the place was just --- was becoming a General the equivalent to gaining model status?

Whatever…

“So can you use me or not? Cause I really think you can, I’m offering myself up like ******** girlscout cookies here!? I got sent all the hell over looking for this place by my General - if you can’t use me for quotas - I dunno. Oh, I’ve been told I look good dusting things! I can even reach s**t on high shelves?” So long as he stayed outta Faustites hair until...until it was very much less on fire...yeah..so...for a while maybe.....



Aquamarine listened. He listened and tried to process, but this guy talked more than his mother, and his mother never seemed to know when to shut up. (Which wasn’t exactly true, but it certainly felt that way sometimes, and feelings had a way of driving Aquamarine nearly as much as logic. It was a constant battle between the two, one that often left him weary.)

What little he could discern from the rambling left him staring flatly, mentally filing through what information he was able to pick out. One, this guy was looking for him specifically — butchered his name even though it was easy enough to remember, but still obviously looking for him to even have a name to butcher. Two, the Senshi’s General sent him, either because he thought him useful for the mission or because he couldn’t ******** stand another moment in his presence and wanted him out of his hair.

After only a minute at most in his company, Aquamarine was certain the latter was more accurate.

Which begged the question…

“Who the ******** your General?”

Prior talk of a burnt down office roused his suspicions. There was only one General other than Jet he’d worked with closely enough to earn such s**t treatment in the form of an irritating subordinate, and he certainly wouldn’t be surprised if said General ended up with his office on fire.

“And why the ******** is he sending you to me?”

Aquamarine looked the Senshi up and down. Tall was his first thought. Large was his second. Scantily dressed was his third. All of it combined to bring a sour look to Aquamarine’s face. What was it about corrupt Senshi having their midriff on display?

“Are you so ******** useless you can’t even collect energy on your own?”



Could he? Yeah, sure, why not, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had. Had a promotion under heel and subordinates getting floated in under that and a whole a** team that was building up - piling in - and an office crisped to ash not long before everything had started falling into place around even that.

Responsibilities that were suddenly stacked high and stacked doubly higher by his own need to make a mess of their best laid plans. All for good causes...right up until he had to make up for them.

To provide for the people who needed places to be put, and energy that was supposedly needed to help put them there? Or maybe new desks and paperweights cost starseeds at Metallias great vending machine in the sky?

Albite didn’t know, didn’t care. Even if ‘Why’ was all sorts of a good question.

Albite didn’t ‘not get paid’ nearly enough to have questions that needed answering. “Yah, listen, if I tried to figure out the whims n whiles of every General in this place and their, like, reasonings for doing anything? My hair’d catch fire so ******** quick from all the *thinking*. Especially with my General being Faustite. Firebrands too smart for me by half sometimes?” wistful, and obvious joy there, because he liked his General. Frustrated by finding the office, but not by the task handed out to him. Relished getting started on it even.

It meant more practice for him. Doing the whole ‘no touch energy grab bag party trick.’

“Dude - Aqua, sir? Can you use me or not? S’like, it's not a hard ask, I’m not the ‘Senshi of Riddles’ or some s**t like that. Getting energy is always better in pairs--” which for him equated to more fun, less boring, landed more of a draw ‘en mass with some of the places he could’ve thought to hit up, meant he could knock out whatever he owed dubly quick. “ --and supposedly you’ve got experience?” arched eyebrow and once over, assumed the guy was Aqua at this point - for all the lack of questioning. Still got stuck on the thought of ‘how pretty’ halfway down his face and over his medals and the blue n silver fancy trimmings.

“ I - ah - may also be really s**t at teleporting on my own, still. Not exactly your problem, but man, if you put me on the surface and then - Idunno - leave me there? It kinda gets me outta your really silky looking hair super quickly, doesn’t it?” sheepish ******** smile for that, but maybe Aqua could remedy a quick solution for them both?

Pop him out on the surface and step himself back down to his community living space. Shoulda been fine! Easy ask for sure~



Aquamarine could not decide if this one was for real or not. Obviously he was real in the sense that he existed; he had a rather solid presence, after all. But he seemed a bit like a joke, like some cosmic ******** landed him in the Negaverse when he should have been somewhere else.

“Who recruited you?” Aquamarine asked, voice gone a bit weak with disbelief.

Which fool agent or mangy cat thought this idiot would make a good addition to the Negaverse? Who wasted their time and energy bringing him in? What utter ******** disgrace stuck their hand in this nitwit’s chest and gave him power instead of yanking his starseed the second he opened his mouth? Did the guilty party bring him to Axinite, the way Jet always did?

If so, Aquamarine was about to lose a s**t ton of respect for Axinite. For Axinite’s sake, he hoped Lepidolite bore responsibility. Lepidolite at least seemed vaguely idiotic.

The Senshi — Albite, he’d said, hadn’t he? Whatever the ******** his name was couldn’t even teleport effectively, by his own admission. He was a Super, should be able to stand on his own, drain energy without a babysitter, get himself to and from Earth without assistance, but no, he sucked at the one ability Aquamarine deemed their greatest advantage against the enemy.

Aquamarine wanted to shove a hand into Albite’s chest and add another starseed to his quota. His fingers twitched, hand rising as he thought of how satisfying it would be, but he forced the compulsion down, dropped his hand and curled his fingers into a fist instead.

He didn’t want to deal with whatever nonsense would come from Faustite if he lost a subordinate. “Too smart” was not a descriptor Aquamarine would give him — but then Aquamarine wasn’t a brainless dolt like this one — but Faustite could be a pain in the a** when he wanted to be, and Aquamarine was trying to keep the peace.

“Don’t ******** answer that, I don’t care,” he said. Except he did care, he just had to make himself not.

“I need a ******** drink anyway,” he decided.

Thus, he let the door to his office close behind him, then grabbed Albite by the arm and teleported them both to Earth.



Free rides to Earth? Cool. The absolute best, and Albite couldn’t think of a single complaint to spew. Could only grin. Because Aqua rode the rift in spacetime a bit like Faustite. Familiar ******** pull for how he ever so kindly got snatched the ******** up and dragged out to the other side without warning.

Only thing missing was the possibility of being energy fodder. Which..who knew? Guy seemed pinched and moody. No way to tell how the night would end. Albite was thinking, the grab n go handling, had to be a General thing. Not even so much as a ‘this is our general landing location’. Just hands on and ‘here ya go, deal with it’ attitude all the way up the chain.

“Thank you for the free ride sir, may I have another?” deadpan dropped around a smirk, couldn’t hold the severity if it’d have saved him; because Aqua? Albite had decided, firmly, was fun. Was like Faustite.

Buttoned up and laced in so tight he might’ve been wearing a corset under it all. Might’ve cracked into dust if he’d cracked so much as a smile. So ******** fun in fact, that the list of things Albite could’ve imagined doing with him were exhaustive.

“Heh, I’m kidding, so drinks? Because ******** yes, drinks. You’ve got a favorite haunt, something fancy, ohh or maybe some seedy hole in the wall. N like, I can answer that question you don’t want answered cause - ah - to be fair it wasn’t Faustite.” snorted as he steadied himself a little on heels that had to be proof in product that metallia had a thing for tall, scantily cladSenshi and sharply dressed men in sterling uniforms. Didn’t want to leave Faustite under the bus as someone who had ‘recruited him’, since Aqua seemed so shocked that someone as ‘specialized’ as he was woulda been drafted in.



They appeared in a darkened alley, lit more by the golden glow of a nearby streetlamp than the sliver of moon that hung in the sky. It smelled the way many such alleys smelled in this part of the city: of garbage and stale piss, cheap booze and unwashed skin. A cacophony of city sounds drifted along the air — voices from the buildings on either side of them, muffled music, cars on the street, and footsteps on the sidewalk.

Aquamarine spared Albite a harsh glare before dropping his arm and stalking toward the mouth of the alley.

The mental radar that kept him alert of any nearby auras remained clear. No Senshi or Knights currently lurked in this part of town, and though that could change in an instant, the night seemed peaceful.

He removed the holster for his rapier and dagger as he went, sending the most conspicuous part of his uniform to subspace. With his cape left back in the office, Aquamarine’s uniform stood out less than it would have otherwise. Out on the sidewalk, he earned a glance or two from passersby but nothing more. The relative plainness of his General attire offered some benefits; civilians saw the jacket and boots as some sort of fashion statement and didn’t often concern themselves with their origins.

Albite would stand out more, but that was fine. He wouldn’t seem so out of place where Aquamarine intended to go.

“Like hell am I going to take you anywhere upscale when you’re dressed like that,” he said.

This area of town wasn’t exactly seedy, but it was near enough to the DCU campus that many of the establishments around them had more of a quirky, college vibe, where two young (arguably attractive) dudes in experimental fashion would fit right in.

Aquamarine led the way to a well lit bar. “Topsy-Turvy” read the upside down side.

“You don’t drink,” he warned Albite, ignoring the rest of his rambling. “You were sent to me for quota filling? So fill your ******** quote. Mingle. Get people talking, having a good time. Don’t drain them dry, just take enough to tire them a little before you move on to the next person. And for ******** sake, act normal.”

The interior was cheerful, full of warm light, decent music, and a bunch of wacky, colorful artwork that, like the sign out front, hung upside down. The bar was decently populated at this time of evening, full of mostly college aged kids, but a few middle aged patrons dotted the place, attempting to relive their youth.



Albite wanted to tease, so badly, wanted to laugh and ask the terse blond if he wanted him to take something off - could’ve always had less on - didn’t really have more clothing hanging in his inventory to cover himself with.

How the need to goad him burned like fire on the tip of his tongue. Extinguished the desire for it as he aimed a pointedly heated look between Aquas shoulder blades instead, because…

He knew high end strippers, ‘thank you very much - little blond princess.’

Albite figured his getup would’ve blended right in at any sorta soirée. Lotta upscale types who enjoyed backstage VIP treatment. Between the collar that dripped gems and the corset that - okay his firebrand had called it a bra but - really!?! He thought he was just exotic enough to be top dollar, and hair extensions were in.

The more he took in the scene, the more sense it made to at least tie his hair up.

Did that, cowry sash snatched quietly from subspace as they passed between evening shadows, garment that had saved his a** time and again. Would thank the merchant personally for the magical thing that seemed made to hold hefty locks against all odds.

Saved him from stepping all over himself as Aqua laid down the law - quaint little bar. Bright, warm, not entirely his scene - maybe Aquas then? For all that the man seemed more the ‘old money yacht’ type than the ‘half-caf venti triple shot with goats milk’ type. Albite wasn’t sure if Aqua would’ve cared if the animal and bean alike were locally sourced, or ‘free trade and eco friendly’.

He was more than happy to be proven wrong. Tagged along and hummed his agreements as he scanned the room for bait - joy of things that he didn’t need to touch anyone anymore - might’ve tried it out of habit though; if it seemed like the right sort of crowd.

“Mmhmm, no drinking, play nice - heh - act normal? Like - ah - smiling n laughing n s**t? Like…maybe you should drink for the both of us then?” Raised an eyebrow and gave him such a grin, kind that rivaled the shine of gems round his neck. Fair enough to offer, since Aqua seemed to need it? Since Albite wasn’t sure what Aqua felt was ‘normal’ to do around people.

Imagined the General caught all sorts of honey seekers without ever opening his trap though. Didn’t need to, when he coulda just stood there n given them that *look*, or the absence of one..

For a guy named after water he sure as hell felt more like - sharp ice..cold fire? Some innate mix of all nature’s most caustic and pretty things..

“Breathe Agua, I’ll behave - m’atchyer beck n’ call, yeah? I totally owe you one even.” solemne as a promise, crossed his laced, barely covered heart and swore the waterbearer could’ve left him to die if it all went bad.

He could do draining though, in his sleep, with a soft smile and a friendly nudge. Brushed past Aqua with a wink and a wave.

He had bodies to befriend…people to drain…



Aquamarine stared after Albite in ******** Senshi.

He ******** hated Senshi. He ******** hated useless Senshi who couldn’t teleport or keep their big ******** mouth’s shut most of all. He had no idea what Faustite meant by sending this buffoon his way, except to annoy the s**t out of him.

Consider him officially annoyed, ten times over.

Worse, Aquamarine didn’t know what the ******** he did to deserve it.

Probably just Faustite being Faustite. Ugh.

Whatever. The Senshi was temporarily out of his hair and Aquamarine could have a ******** drink if he wanted. ******** yes, he wanted. The Negaverse and all of the idiots involved were enough to drive him to drink under normal circumstances; add this new mission into the mix and alcohol began to look like an even better escape.

Aquamarine made his way to the bar and snagged an empty seat, opening his jacket to the warm room, exposing the skin-tight black garment he wore beneath. Some sort of magical lycra? Who knew. It was comfortable and allowed for ease of movement. That was all that mattered.

Whiskey in hand, Aquamarine sent his gaze through the crowd. Albite was easy to pick out, what with his height. The aura certainly helped, but wasn’t necessary at close range. He didn’t trust Albite any more than he trusted any other Senshi. Less, actually. Draining energy in a place like this shouldn’t be difficult at all, but someone who talked that much with that sort of brash attitude was bound to ******** up.

How did Faustite put up with him?

How was he not dead yet?



Albite was having - F U N.

Capital letters, completely uncensored, fun. It was nice to be out of the cold and in with a crowd. To pocket energy like he was picking pockets as he weaved through, passed by. Sipped at people like they were some of the fancier s**t, instead of shots to be downed in one. It was good to practice finesse every now n’ then, to play at getting the hang of it instead of brute forcing his way through the work.

Clever fingers attached to a stupid mouth, and if he sidled up at a bar and ‘chimed in’ on conversations, caught a girls eye, and her arm gently as she reached for the gems that adorned him - claimed he came from some theater stint - that he was a statement piece on legs - that yes ‘all the tats were real’ - and did they wanna see? How about feel? Cracks in his skull and chest easily ignored if he played them off that way, another part of him like any other bits of ink that tinted his skin.

It made for a really fun game too. To work it all over like he’d done with Sylvite, best practice gal-pal, top tier fun General for the win. The only downside was that he figured he wasn’t getting any ice cream at the end of it…

Maybe drinks, maybe if he talked Aqua into it?

Brick rained as he was, it was hard to miss the icy contempt leveled at his back. Could feel it like a prickle of pin needles between his shoulder blades. Turned briefly and caught Aqua's eye, and wondered if the man actually enjoyed the drink in his hands - or if he did it just for the looks? To seem grown, despite the sour patch kid schooled into pinched polite society ready features vibe he was throwing out.

And his firebrand worked with these people - with shy wallflowers like Kama, n lanky blonds…

An absolute miracle he hadn’t burnt the place down around them all sooner. Guy really must’ve cared, for them, the Negaverse? Something.

Circled back around across soft wooden floors that hid the scuff of his careless steps with where they were weathered and worn in places. Picked up some overpriced water, snatched from around a girl’s shoulder, because he’d be ******** if he was paying - and she was looking sleepy anyhow - and if he maybe just, skimmed a little extra off the top to ensure she’d stay that way. Curled up in her bookish, auburn curls at the end of a bar, while he sipped her precious Pellegrino and stepped off…

“Hey - Hey Aqua, wanna hear like, the worst line ever?” tilted green glass between his fingers, and glittered down at the blond “Ohkay - just - ‘If looks could kill? I’d be a dead man, and you’d be a mass murderer? Cause honey, you’re looking killer tonight.”

Said it slow and easy, smothered the stupid laugh he wanted to loose for it - for whatever look he’d get.

Said it because it was true.

He could point out that Aqua reminded him of a more of a General and less of a patron visiting an establishment; even when he wasn’t wearing a holster for a weapon that was probably far less pointy than his looks.

The sincere smile Aquas terse comments earned with ease, as Albite took up the vacated seat next to him like his name'd been carved into it, like it was an open invitation, instead of dead wood sat to a man who's simmer was more a sear that could've scalded off manicured nails and well made-up faces alike.

With just a glance probably. How all of that? Was far more an encouragement to him, than pure deterrent. If only because the kinds of fires he usually played with were hellishly hot - hotter then any blond with ice for eyes could've managed on their best day.

"I should never call anyone *honey*." Softest snort, glint of glass that found the table and he slid it between his palms, swiped the condensation that clung to the neck of it and considered Aquas question - at length - if not with any depth. "Honey is a word for irate secretary's, overworked diner servers, and people looking to get firmly slapped." and he wondered if he was inviting that - if Aqua would've felt better if he'd had someone to lay into with tooth and nail.

Albite kinda thought that he woulda - that it would've been a hellova thing to see. Maybe after, maybe he'd invite him out to loose some of that fight out on the world, instead of penning it up in a carefully catered college avenue bar space.

"Hmm..." shrugged and let it drop, the words, the explanation that sat tip of his tongue. Tingled there, and he chased it down with the carbonated water instead of pointing out that the people who were interested in him? Often didn't need lines, and that he wasn't ever interested in anyone who didn't want him to begin with.

"Why am I - happy?" hazarded a guess for how nebulous and all encompassing 'this' was. "It's exactly what I said it was. No tricks up my sleeve -- heh -- cause I don't have any, but uh -- consider it an after work thing if you want? Letting off steam, getting s**t done." Noted with a slide of warm gaze over the well oiled bartop - dark woods to compliment the lighting that invited 'cozy' sorts of closeness. That would've hid spills and stains with ease.

Eyed the people serving up drinks beyond the bar, wondered what he could sneak from them. If it was worth it to try when they brushed by inevitably to ask for one thing or another ---

"I like my job Aqua - I like the job - don't need excuses to go doing it, to want to get better at it for the sake of - I dunno - self improvement, others?" he really did have a helluva quota to fill. Was helping with - and Nembus was doing something - and he had ******** up with how he'd handled the whole 'office en fuego' incident. Felt like this would've made up for it, made for good practice without dragging on the others in his close inner circle.

"Besides - you're not so bad. This, it isn't so bad, yeah? N' I'm legit grateful for the ride out here." because teleporting was terrifying and he hadn't the slightest of handles on it. Was better at riding backseat - trained himself into it and now for all his want to get out of it - well - still had to practice that. Would practice instead being sly about getting things from groups. One on one had always been his go to - touch was so easy - but snatching things out of thin air, innocuously, inconspicuously? At least this way, if he ******** it up irreparably, he had a get outta jail blond.

"N like - our firebrand - he probably thinks your competent. I mean, you've gotta be, yeah? Made it where you are by being more n' just pretty."

Albite toned the sunbeams caught on a glass toothed rim that made up his smile down three whole notches. Features that softened a little for what he felt was a compliment. For earning more than water with his words. How he fought down the urge to crow out reflexively. Kicked it in the shins and told it to stay down -- he could cry joy later -- after -- play city wide banshee for how excited he was to be getting out and getting along with others.

Going out for drinks n' draining? Totally good, awesome, great as ********, work related stuff!

It meant that he'd have to knock down Aquas door and do it again sometime. Figured it'd be good practice for remembering 'how to knock' -- seemed an important thing to think on --- knocking as a courtesy. Such a weird concept to him when Auras were a thing and so he shoulda known when people were hanging out in their home away from homes.

Offices? Whatever...

Except he never really paid much attention to Auras either -- so there was that....

"You're too kind" meant it. Let the words roll warm off his tongue as he slid the water smoothly aside, knuckled the bar-top, gentle rapping of bone on wood. Liked this ones eyes, hazel? Some dark shade that had a hint of forest in it. Enough to have him smiling all over again - even at the narrow eyed once over from a person dressed normal as ******** for work.

Liked the way 'exotic theater bit' felt as a lie - asked for a White Russian. If they had peppermint -- a syrup, a stick, to add that s**t if they did.

"Imma guess then -- that you probably don't like the job? Unless acourse, your saying that your uhm - A Three Cuco's flown over the whole damn nest type? N the lack of me being full on 'guano on the brain' is, like, a reverse compliment...." which was --- and he lost the whole damn idea of the word as he watched the barkeep take careful measurements. Practically salivated as coffee liquor and cream met in a heavenly little blend right before his very eyes.

"Oh, an insult! That. Which, it's fine if it is, yanno? I get it. I get a lot of things -- thinking -- after all this time. I'm maybe not typical?" rough little shrug, reached to take his glass as it was set. Briefest brush of fingers and swift little snatch of bright energy orb. Small glinting thing that got palmed away as he savored the sweet burn and smooth swallow of the drink.

Soft snort, all mirth and warm peppermint tinged pride in that. Sucked the taste of it off his own tongue. Savored the way the cream and Kahlua tempered the dark burn of the drink.

Got what Aqua was saying - tenfold - and he just couldn't help but tease the poor guy. "You could always just dump all that listening into looking instead?" He'd always been partial to it, taking in looks and being something worth looking at. Was blessed with the gift of going the ******** on - mouthy distraction ad nauseum incarnated into a body that lent well to the tactic of it. "I've been told I'm good for that!" he found a moment to sober himself for it though - to give Aqua a look.

Assessing understanding rather than placating pity. How so many of the Generals sounded like they had so little choice in how they 'were'. In the why of it...

"Power, People, Personal gain' -- That's always been my three. For joining, for staying? The grunt work's easy, n I find ways to make it good. That is, I found a way to make it good? Got a General Manager I liked, n got a team worth caring for.." ticked off points slow, picked up words from others and supplanted them in to mean everything else. Felt for Aqua -- it was unfair almost -- wondered how young he was under all the glamour and guise. How young he'd been, once, maybe?

If someone like him ever could've been young.

"Not that our CEO and her entourage of 'people in charge' aren't hot as fire, but..I could never do it just for them, yanno? Have to have all the other reasons -- have to have myself be a reason, or else, why bother?" shrug encapsulated in a slow roll of shouldered shrug - flinched his glance over to search iced blues. "I'm sorry though, that it hasn't been easy on you. That's....hmm....that doesn't have to be how it stays though, right? You've got more power more, yeah? More people -- more..." swirled the liquid in his glass and searched for what 'more' could've encapsulated. Wondered how much change Aqua and Generals like him had the power to impart.

"Whatever -- If you ever wanna give it a try, making it fun, heh, whiteboard blocking how to make it better? I'm a damn good soundingboard! From a Sen-ugh--supports pointaview at least, s'not like those types on my level got it pretty. I just - I think I get it easier because people are less likely to bark too loud in my direction." helped that he got a thrill out of it. The missions, the rift adventures, the chances to prove himself - to be alive and feel the joy of living along the edge of all things iffy..

He was lucky as anyone could’ve been, had to agree with Aqua on that tenfold. The fact that he’d managed against all odds to get Faustite to take him on, probably despite the guys better judgement?

It was the expression of free will that got him — however succinctly the firebrand had parsed it down into simple words. Him doing what he wanted, because he could, and needing a guidepost as a person far more than he needed a leash to tie him down.

He’d done infinitely better as an agent with a commander he’d been given the chance to pick for himself. Even if the fire-pit of a General spat black ichor and embers. Albite still thrilled for every moment he got to exercise being himself. As himself. No hall monitors, or hand holding, all the training he’d ever wanted and a reserved sort of patience that seemed endless..endlessly able to let him ******** up and succeed in equal measures. Needed that far more than he needed a safety net — got a badass team on top of it, for all that he wasn’t ready to have a single soul answer to him ever..

Though he figured it’d all work out fine so long as he shoved them into promoting like lightning, n begged on his bossette for the rest.

“I’ve got a high tolerance for ‘likes’, but also— it helped me like ‘this’ way more, the fact that I picked him, that he allowed it? Cause, he didn’t have to..I’m uh - a lot, maybe? For someone to subject themselves to.” a brief glimpse of self awareness that quickly got shook em off, twirl of wrist and fingers to encompass the nebulous nature of ‘this’. Job, power, people, rift, *his..*

The sour note that sat in the pit of his stomach for how Aqua maybe had those things, some of those things? Yet had paid a price that leaned to high — that stole away what could’ve been joy crushed under his immaculately polished boot heels.

How hard Aqua seemed to have it..how serious he was about being all work and no play. “You’re fine Aqua. I came to exactly who I wanted…even if it took my a** a minute to find your office.” because the words had to be said, around a smile and another sip that seemed almost dainty, tucked his thoughts into amber and watched the barkeep pour another for blond at his side. “Would you be shocked if I said I’m having fun? I am kinda surprised this is your type of scene though. It’s cozy..not one I woulda picked for me..but nice, for all that I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type to pop in around here....”

Quirk of expression that tilted towards being pleasantly surprised. The way Aqua ticked off all the ways ‘this’ worked for him. The way he was so - undeniably human outside of all the buttoned up layers and braided ropes pinned to epaulets crusted in silver and the telltale colorings that made up his namesake.

He could almost see it - if he squinted just right - stared at an idea of Aqua with his hair down all the time. Couldn’t quite place a smile on that face, but he could see the expression being less - pissy and pinched for the sake of sloughing off the simple irritants that clearly weighed easy on him.

“Whatever I woulda thought? I woulda been *wrong* - but I like that.” soft for the welcome want of being proven off in his assumptions. Nails that tapped tuneless, as he considered himself, in the context of this, of — as himself - as Albite?

“I’ve got a few favorite haunts. You’d - heh - probably hate them, just a little? There’s this place though, my girl works there - and other people I’m more familiar with? Faces I know - a total dive as far as bars go, but it’s more popular for its ‘shows’ and back rooms than its booze. Mmm, then there’s all the places down by the construction yard, a few crop up warehouse parties — scenes that come up at the docks.” Sipped the drink down until there was nothing to chase but the lingering essence of sweet cream, sticky on the rim, barest hints of undissolved peppermint that made him humm.

“I like — a place I can disappear? Sometimes, it’s nice to be where everything is so much louder and wilder than *me* - that I must seem tame n’ still by comparison. Does that make sense?” and even if the glass was empty, his head was full. Of asks that he hadn’t - that he wanted to hedge, that he wanted..

Why didn’t Aqua just — “You should get to do what you want.” leveled a look, serious as it was curious. “Just…people who give? Who work hard like you obviously *did*…” and albite knew at his core that ‘circumstances’ couldn’t be changed sometimes, couldn’t be beaten into order and arranged well enough to function the way people wanted - the way they deserved.

“Whatever— is there some trick I can do to earn myself seconds?” Thought he was being oh so well behaved to beg another. Thought on the communal space Aqua seemed to share, for all that the job was just a ‘job’. Too easily distracted by the s scents and sounds of quiet life around him to pick at it.

"I can't promise to ever tolerable, Aqua. Only useful." was amenable to being just that if nothing else. Useful, malleable - like clay that'd been set in a mold yet never once touched the kiln; because fired clay seemed so much easier to crack under pressure. Which made it an imperative that he picked Faustite, of all the people in the world, to slot himself in under. Knew he needed some sort of heat to temper himself against. That his General would firm him up enough, would give him a form to follow, and all without demanding a finished product.

Would make it fun. For all the sweat, blood, and scars poured into it.

Wasn't sure if satisfied was anything anyone could ever be, if he'd ever even met people who felt that on the regular -- satisfied. Settled for happy, healthy, and content more often then not, but knew his General wasn't really any of those things either. Knew a lot of people weren't.

At least, not yet? Or...maybe only sometimes?

"Someday though, you and me, maybe? We'll find out what drunk enough looks like for the both of us." made the executive decision that what he had collected would be exactly enough right then and knocked the bartop. Gentle rap of knuckle's while he asked for another with a flick of his eyes and a smile. One more couldn't hurt - could leave him satisfied enough to let Aqua be once he was done. Easier to do now that he didn't need a trip surface-side.

"Could be fun." twisted the words around his grin. Banked fires for the thought of taking Aqua out with him. For the fun of it.

How what he considered fun had such a vast range. Picnics on foreign stars, broken ribs on a battlefield. Fun could've just as easily been a molotov waiting to catch in the middle of an oil refinery as it could've been a trip to get cotton candy and write letters pinned to trees; but he lived for all of those things. Strived to pick out all the good sparkly fun bits from the most unlikely of people in the most unlikely of places.

"Here's to doing what we want, yeah? In our own ways." offered his glass full of swirled amber and crème. Amicable tilt and acknowledgement in the gesture. Something like quiet acceptance of the other, now that he had more to go off of than a color and a numbered door down a stonewashed hall.