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No one knew where texts went when they were sent to Faustite. Disappeared to a digital ether, perhaps, or stranded on a mainframe until the messages were deleted due to age. In any case, Faustite hadn't received any message about Mizuki's reassignment — not from one of the numerous melted communicators that accumulated in the corner of his office, not from the many skittish Lieutenants who frequently shirked their mail-running duties to office room 430. Thus, the Negaverse's torch was very much in the dark that anyone was looking for him, even as he threaded through the halls.

In truth, he was looking for the cat that was to inform him — he hadn't yet gotten an update from the squirrelly thing about one of its many tasks, and Faustite was likewise using it as a break from mountains of paperwork. Paperwork that he may or may not have set on fire, cause unknown, and he was loathe to ask Axinite for another copy just yet.

Initially he walked past the pile of hair covered in roses, thinking it a weird new decoration that someone snuck into the halls. Then he felt eyes on him, and he paused, then doubled back to find out who, exactly, thought it was a good idea to stare down a General on a mission. He discovered, then, that the pile of hair with keratin-eating roses actually had human life support attached to it, and it was the human life support that was staring at him.

"What?" He asked, half-confused, half-irked. He wetted parched lips, then added, "put that away."

She closed her fingers around her starseed and pouted at the two men. "But it's just so pretty..." said Mizuki with a soft huff. She kissed her own soul and dropped it back into place with a flick of her fingers. Spoil sports... it wasn't like Faustite was going to eat it... though she sort of wanted to see him try now... Oh well. She swung her legs and hopped off the table, skipping up to them and grinning.

"So, Dads, who is getting me on weekends? Also do you have any tasks for me? It's just so boring only draining energy," she said, pouting again. Mizuki's corruption had taken a meek young woman and turned her into something... else that wasn't exactly... normal anymore. Bright eyes glanced between the two men in quick succession as she bounced on her heels, swinging her arms.

"Queeny didn't exactly give a lot of directions the last time I saw her, after all, except to not go after the pretty little aliens," she said, tilting her head to the side expectantly. It didn't really occur to her that these two weren't corrupt senshi and thus may not have any idea what to do as a corrupt senshi, but both had teams of them so surely they could help, yeah?

Obviously!

Strickenized

Shinigamisgirl

Puckered lips that might've well been pickled for the way they pursed, how he'd wanted to say - something - anything that had more eloquent a response than his gaping silence offered up - but was struck by dumb by the deadly innocence that Mizuki wore easily as an aura. She was cloaked in it. Ever unaware and even more eager. The picture of impatient with her huffy pauses and kicked heels as she sat and said ---- dads - daddy - ohgod....

'What have I gotten us into..'

Had he asked her how old she was? No, he was running with it. They were running with it! IF it left her attached and kept, then he would play it up to the n'th degree.

"One second Mizuki ---" dragged to the side, and quietly, ever so quietly, steam hissed whispers of things that happened as his smile for her soured almost immediately for Faustite. Not because of him, no. The circumstances though? How exactly did one go about explaining --- ******** -- any of this...

"I'm afraid the only tasks you'll have involving me - are entrenched around what we're doing with her." the sigh loosed as he felt years of age he didn't yet own, dragged long fingers down his face and swept back purple-pink strands. Picked a starting point. "Congratulations General Faustite, you're a Father. Ah, We -- and that is a very firm, diamond clad, silver ringed definition of 'We'...Are now going to take on the role of co-parenting our lovely lily of the valley."

Because Mizuki absolutely belonged in Specops - belonged under a Genreral who had habits of taming wild things and dealing with deadly creatures. How Faustite had a whole pack of Senshi and was seasoned in the use of them.

"She requires more than either of us can offer -- and so -- I was ever so carefully informed, that she would be getting us both." He thought maybe Hessonite liked her, he was sure. Didn't matter that he'd argued, however vehemently, to keep her as a whole. Regardless of her talents, and the endless possibilities she presented. A Senshi who could so seamlessly fit so many molds, with but a nudge here or there.

Knowing that she was wanted didn't ease the sting on his soul; because it was he who had plucked her up, housed, her, fed her. He wanted her to have things outside of their world. Some semblance of normalcy to balance against the nothing that reflected in her gaze.

They saw a blank canvas. A mason jar ready to be filled to the brim. A sponge. He would play thorn walled buffer against the rest to ensure she wouldn't be wrung free of all that made her a person. Would beg Faustites favor to handle the rest. Cover his gaps.

This one had an ego. Faustite held back a smoky sigh. He recognized the purple-haired one from when they had a meeting with the Queen — she thought him trustworthy enough to be charged with double the energy quota, and now he was being given half of a senshi. Which, from the sound of it, was going to be a bigger headache than Headache if they were going to keep up this Father ******** father. They looked the same ******** age. Technically, at least, if not physically.

He glanced from Prehnite (who was fast getting on his nerves) to Mizuki (who was fast getting on his nerves), then decided it was pointless to look at either of them, so he looked at his own nails as Prehnite finished taking ******** to reach the crux of his rambling. In a way, the boy reminded him of Albite, with 50% more brains and double the love of hearing himself speak.

After picking away some youma dust from under his nails, Faustite added, "or they know we're both busy and split the burden between us." They would each have their areas of expertise, and Faustite's had nothing to do with mundane human things. Better to assign that part to Prehnite, if he couldn't call her fully his subordinate and pass her civilian needs off to Lysithea and Albite. Would've preferred that — Prehnite seemed the type to act clean but buy girls' underwear out of creepy vending machines — but it wasn't their right to choose.

"Best be you that teaches her how to be a person," he managed, before Mizuki gave up the waiting game and got in his ******** grill.

Or nearly did. Near enough that she was going to burn herself if she touched it.

And she asked the damndest questions, too. She added a disgusting pet name, too. Expression souring, Faustite settled a hand on a hip. "Often do. Especially if idiots decorate their ******** offices with flammable things. Lost count of the number of door jambs, chairs, and reports I've destroyed."

Her bangs drooped sadly in her face from the sweat that pooled on her forehead, making it hard to see. Mizuki pouted and stood back up, away from the furnace in his midsection, and breathed in cool air. Oh, that was nice. "Refreshing..." she said with a sigh,.

Oh, right, Faustdad had spoken. She blinked and looked at him, hands neatly tucked behind her back. "That's so... wicked. Do you like being half engine, Dad?" she asked before her attention snapped to Prehnite because he'd given her a nickname!!! and she swiveled on the spot. Almost far too creepily fast, actually.

"You gave me a nicknaaaaammmeeeee! Dad, Dad! FlowerDad gave me a nickname!! Zuzu!!" she exclaimed, bouncing on her feet and snapping her head back and forth. Utter glee, almost to a 'too much' amount, spread her face as she bounced. Best. Day. Ever!!

Shinigamisgirl

Strickenized

Prehnite side-eyed Faustite in turn, a pensive flash of green that lingered, until it morphed into reluctant acceptance. For Faustite? He cared, as much as any one man could for a fellow colleague. Right up until he didn't - but for Mizuki? Fierce little flower that she was. He'd do nigh anything for her. She'd become his pet project, his own personal 'Helen of Troy', for how she could've sparked him to raise a brow and consider starting wars --- or at the very least, being a little s**t towards his betters on her behalf.

Especially when her apparent glee warmed his small heart so. That combined with the unexpected nickname and her boundless curiosity? He was hopelessly endeared, there was no undoing it now.

Then Faustite spoke. Tied him in with 'both' in such a way that there was no backing out. His smile warped for the tinfire in a cage, became garrote-wire tight as he giddily took a match to the dry kindling between them. Because of all the things he could've imagined the General suggesting? Murders 'en masse of their shared, dangerous, enemies was not the first thing that'd come to his mind! She was, despite being grown, mostly a child!

Impressionable, fearless ---

"Oh, am I? That's news to me, but...." and Prehnite nearly tacked on darling, but held his tongue instead, held his sigh for all the mayham he was surely getting them into by going along with this. "....If that's something Faustite thinks you can do? I believe in it."

Prehnite paced behind Faustite's crouched form, glanced the halls, looked back to find Mizuki's bright lilac eyes. "Though I wouldn't claim their entirely for me. I think our dear General would look good with something shinier than medals. Maybe if they also matched his attire?"

He was sure Mizuki would come through, with a little training, with time and care. Surely. Which, considering the task at hand was so advanced. Prehnite lingered over how much of it he would put on the General, where the brunt of teaching Mizuki skills as an agent would lie between them.

Starseeding others -- heaven help him. It sounded so much like spec-ops work...

"Don't be stupid." Far be it for Faustite to accept starseeds as decorum. Better they were, as a snack. As something to lift him, mend him, entice him for another — and that was where his gratitude lay for his team. They didn't fetch him starseeds; they only turned in energy.

Shifting, Faustite stood, and fussed with his pant legs that they would sit correctly on his figure. He glanced from their new Darling Darkling Decked in Purple to the familiar-but-not General with whom he shared this one. This was becoming far more trouble than it was worth; better if they could drop the charades and treat this one like a functioning member of the Negaverse. He could only assume that, since Prehnite had more experience with this one, he decided that this kid-gloves method was better for her damaged psyche.

Whatever, he told himself. ********. Let him play this ******** game.

Hand on his hip, Faustite started to pace. He walked a slow, semilunar path behind Prehnite. Thought briefly about starseeding the good General, just to demonstrate how it was done. Terrible shame that he couldn't trust himself to avoid popping it in his mouth. Better she didn't learn that habit.

"Call us if they want to join. Prehnite during the day, me at night. Prehnite will teach you how to starseed someone."