Welcome to Gaia! ::

Everything felt like it fell in almost too fast, too well; rode the high of a win he hardly understood. How the aliens seemed like an afterthought compared to —

His team.

Fresh new faces dragged in under his heels; plucked fresh from the mud and holed up in his home, orientations that rushed up — all the prep needed for that — but first?

He had business to handle for himself. No, not only himself, but Hatsya as well. His beloved second who he’d not leave to linger below mind wiped corrupts. Had to get her above basic, had to step up. Clinging, creeping vine that had lingered too long oft shadowed walls and in hallways. He would claim the sun, beg power enough to make himself worthy of the fresh new tasks he was undertaking — for them — for her.

“Queen laurelite..” what a kindness it was for her to have gone and made time for him. He wondered on the years, if chaos kept wrinkles from her delicate hands and the corners of her sharp gaze. “Thank you for making time for me. I must say, this is, nice.”

As odd as it all felt, it was also good. Better. Whatever strange niggling begged him to ask questions beyond his status — and oh — he would make a careful ask of them — but they were secondary, hindbrain desires; because it was good to see a mission gone well.

To have gotten back some of their own, after so much time! A win that felt like a win. Instead of a participation ribbon handed out at the end of some grueling trial..

"It's possible, that this is long overdue. Though that may have quite a bit to do with my own - how should I say - complacency."

"Never before have I had my sights set on advancement. It's been more than enough to simply; exist within my own lane, so to speak." twirled the thought along to the movements of his fingers. An errant thing swatted aside, for he'd long stuck to his niche, little crevasse carved to suite his own whims. Never taking on too much or too little -- watching -- from the safely dug hollow of it all.

Something which he no longer had the luxury to abuse. No, he no longer had the right, to play as child when Sonia had made it so very clear that they needed him to act the adult he was. His team would support him - but only so long as he was strong enough to carry them along with him, to protect them.

"After this last mission...I find myself in need of a great deal, more. That's not to say that the power which comes with a promotion is an end all be all solution to the tasks I've recently undertaken, but...it's maybe a step in the right direction."

All the ways in which he'd willingly taken on more than he'd ever asked for, how his girls, his team, made it abundantly clear that his continued 'captain-hood' would not be nearly enough.

"Its a quite a boon to ask of. I understand..."

Oh, did he understand, and so he'd come to her.

"...whether or not I've shown myself worthy of it."

Because he respected the energy that went into it. The strain, even if she looked effortlessly powerful; overflowed with it in ways that begged he kneel, that made him question looking up to meet her gaze.

Hadn't she always been that way, though. Deadly prowess and green sickles cloaked beneath beauty? Did she even age anymore, or was all that coursed through her so great that it surpassed the pull of gravity and wrinkle of time.

"Before all that, I do have some things I'd wish to go over. Ah, to add to the ask? If it's not overstepping." soft smirk that lit his smile, slightest little uptick, as his gaze roved her, as he took a moment to simply - look - and appreciate Laurelite as she was now.

Not as she was five, six, seven years ago...

How he couldn't tell when she'd slid from 'Person, to Puppet, to Ruler' in his mind. Maybe it was time passing, maybe it was things getting better? Some indistinguishable valuation that had changed his perspective of her; though even if held at gun point he couldn't have said 'how or when'.

It was, wasn't it? His meeting, and oh, did he feel somewhat humored by that. The idea of sitting before his Queen and speaking some semblance of 'freely', about whatsoever pleased him. Talking to her like a person, as if it were simply another day in the life of Laurelite - basic interoffice chatter round a watercooler. Small talk amongst friends.

It was nearly comforting, the laughability of it. Trying to paint the image and failing.

"Of course my Queen, you're too kind."

Gestured just so - and produced from subspace a thin folder with a few pages pressed between its ends.

He liked it how it had been, sometimes, old-fashioned manila and parchment inked paper-trails. Preferred it even, because anything digital could be edited, changed. One persons typing's indistinguishable from another's. This though? Printed pages that had been filled in where the appropriate gaps lay, elegantly hand written in many places. Lines upon lines that detailed in great length about Hatsya - Senshi of Swordplay.

"I took on a subordinate some months ago, and given her length of time in service prior to this? Especially considering her recent accomplishments..." smoothed his thumb along the clean yellow edges, before offering it up to her.

He wondered what Hatsya would think if she knew? What Sonia would consider...if she'd ever taken a chance to glance at -- oh -- anything he left lying about his home-office proper. Details of her ability to follow orders, her hot streak, indomitable spirit and inability to be cowed even when faced with injury. How she'd taken so well to sticking to his side; even when he'd thrown her into the thick of it without a second thought.

Into every battle, every mission....

Had taken up mothering the freshly fledged Senshi he'd slotted into his team. Stood as a beacon of what they could be. He would've floundered with them all. Without her unerring steel beamed supports to bolster him up, of this he was sure.

"I'd like to push for her promotion. It's long past due. I doubt she'd come to me for it, and so.." a slight shrug. Whoever she went to, whichever Sovereign or Cat, he wanted to make sure they knew. "Actually...I doubt she'll come for it at all? It's entirely possible she'll need to be called forth. She's a wonderful Senshi, and we do so need to keep our ranks up where they're concerned."

He wasn't afraid of her fleeing, no, had pushed the subject of purification time and again. Left breadcrumbs to be plucked and watched from afar as she avoided them entirely; how impressive that was to him, for how miserable she'd seemed with them? Yet she chose to stay. Chose devotion. She needed respect though, recognition. Lest she fell back through the cracks and into obscurity. Escaped into civilian life in such a way that she remained only useless hilt of a human, rather than a sword to be oh so expertly wielded in service of the Negaverse.

How remiss and useless of a person would he be, if he simply let her go?

"Aside from that...I was ever so curious, about the point of our 'Mission'."

"Don't mistake me - I'm thrilled for all the new acquisitions. Alien companions, Senshi, Agents, etcetera. It was, so very good to get back some of our own."

How the gain somewhat soothed the loss worn on from years past -- How he'd thrilled underneath the thrum of power that'd swaddled the field. The sheer joy at getting back at them, that filled even the smallest parts of him. For the sake of revenge, of dealing a blow where it hurt.

How they deserved to hurt for what they'd done -- for every person they'd lured with tales of milk and honey onto star scattered shores beyond Earths bounds. Absolute bastards, the lot of them.

Heaved a sigh around that particular twinge, because he'd been curious, once, about all that lay beyond, and now? Bitter complacency sat in it's wake. Settled in his chest and turned to something else.

"---but? Was that really all this was for? A snatch and grab at -- tech from estranged allies of old --- to bolster ranks?" shrewd glance that lingered over Laurelites picture perfect features; while his fingers wound round an invisible twine before staying their motions entirely, pausing into steepled stillness. He'd been curious from the start. Skeptical, in some respect, about the true purpose of their missive. Of diamond pins affixed to all, and energy snatched in stops and starts by the thirteen of them who'd been called forth.

She didn't have to say, truly. Her speech to them at the end of it all had been enough to put a smile on his face. The fascinatingly bright medal that seemed a mockery of their alien companions colors, enough to make it stay.

If he didn't ask now? He would always wonder --- and it was, after all, his meeting.

He had worked for it, hadn’t he? So it was only fair - a once in a lifetime chance - for all the ways he doubted he’d be darkening her doorstep again. Maybe in another decade or two? Maybe in another lifetime? Maybe she’d attend his funeral - a nice ashes to dust ensemble of a pipe dream.

He wasn’t sure they had funerals proper for their fallen—- couldn’t quite picture when. Realized it didn’t matter, not to him.

So he offered gratitude for her consideration of Hatsya with a smile. A nod. Knew well and good all the reasons he’d make a worthy General, could’ve stacked them l atop them every other reason he ‘wouldn’t’ — what had long gone beyond a consideration and balancing of ‘wants vs deservedness’ - and had been driven straight into necessity.

For him at least.

If she turned him away there — well — but she wasn’t. And he had other words that demanded an out, desired little for platitudes and shiny metal prizes pinned on his chest. Power was what he wanted now, what he needed, and all that came wrapped beneath the thick veil of knowledge. Of knowing he could ask after that knowledge and be deemed worthy enough to glean grains of it behind the Plaster o Paris perfect mask of Metallia.

“No, you handled it brilliantly. I suppose, I simply hope that we get more. On equal par and scale of what that was gleaned on the hilltop, because that? That was…wonderful.”

There was nothing he would’ve thought to do differently. The whole of it was dominos set perfectly into play — straight up to the end, he was sure. The trap laid and chaos loosed…The thrill of that. Was that what she felt every day? What had it’d been, five, ten years since he felt that? Immersed in chaos so thick it could’ve dropped him to his knees..sent him to the stratosphere.

He’d never had a better time.

“Not that our Mauvian companions aren’t delightful in all their wily ways — but? I don’t believe they’ve ever produced something quite so — ‘that’….”

He could’ve sighed for it, was perfectly pleased with the idea that they were getting equal trade for their efforts — even if they had to take it by main force. The tech. That was the real prize of it all - because ranks bolstered and shrank like the tide. Just like their enemies waxed and waned like the moon of their namesake.

“…and if ‘that’ was even a fraction of what’s on offer?”

A slow curl of a smile. Thinking on how the aliens were the true prize. Prehnite only hoped they’d get more than trinkets and betrayals from it.

“I shouldn’t bother you for more than what’s my due, should I? So! A promotion?”

Another time. Future possibilities laid out with options for more, and he liked that. However tentative his trust was in the future - hearing it parsed that way from Laurelite herself? It gave him something like hope. A tantalizing thing to want for, even if it all fell through - their new found ‘friends’, with their machinations, their machines. He imagined the so called ‘aliens’ had plans and needs of their own worth bartering for - things that lay beyond payouts and dues.

It wasn’t for him to care about, not truly. Especially with all the things he had to worry over for himself. The gentle weight of her hand on his chest a wake up call. Soft, steady touch that pulled him from his own head. The way their Queen thrummed with such unassailable power, confidence born of knowing.

“I’m more than ready”

He had to be - for her - for them. For the sake of his team and the Negaverse as a whole. Maybe even, himself. It was his turn to grow up. To take a steady, shallow breath, and nod his assent.

There was an *instinct*, brief animal-flicker of panic that made him want to pull free. He swallowed it down in a full body shudder, the way her delicate, well manicured nails tipped, pressed. He didn't even feel it at first. It was the visual - the disjointed knowledge which came so readily along with that visual.

She had him though, well in hand. Firm, soft, warm, had him. There was no need to escape what he'd asked for, no point in it.

He breathed -- saw stars go black as night and darker than that -- he might've shed a single tear for how he had to steady himself through the pan-flashed pain, done in an instant. He shivered for it, after. Like death had barely whispered over him -- to caress, not to kill.



Then it was over, in a dizzying flash, it almost felt too fast.

Offering up a 'thank you', impossible, not when he still felt so scrubbed over, raw. So he smiled instead, and took her silence as a sign of all things good.

He hoped it suited him -- Generalhood -- he hoped he could make himself worthy of the power he'd requested. Could put it to good use, because they could be better.

He could be better.