Welcome to Gaia! ::

Being a knight didn't seem so bad now that he had met people that weren't interested in skewering him just because he was born on a planet he apparently wasn't fighting for.

For one, he had actually made a friend he wanted to keep in touch with. Pendour - or Sadie, as it turned out - was friendly, relaxed, inclined to chill as much as he was, and as it turned out, she was also Neptunian! He wasn't sure if that explicitly meant anything--maybe Neptunians were all this way, maybe it was just the two of them--but he was willing to embrace his apparent Poseidon Sister in either case.

Today, he had opted to invite her over to his house.

He had volunteered to work on arranging something in ocarina for Careless Whisper, and after some work, he thought he had something that would have worked well. In the progress, though, he had fallen deep into the depths of one of the only pieces of work he actually cared to do--music and woodwinds, that was--and he emerged with several arrangements or videos that he thought might have been worth trying.

His proudest was Going Home, which he thought was a good joke.

Maybe it'd work on the Negaverse in the same way it worked on people in Chinese malls being told that places were closing and it was time to leave--

When Sadie was to arrive, Michelangelo was already waiting at the door, leaning on the doorframe, and when he saw her, he greeted with a,

"Hey! Find it okay?"

... His house was a bit large and probably hard to miss--

The moment she said she was Sadie, Michelangelo was able to tell that he was talking to Pendour. Honestly, that was fascinating, the glamour magic was quite a trick, wasn't it? Magicians and illusionists would have been jealous.

"Michelangelo," he confirmed, pushing himself off the doorframe and gesturing for Sadie to come in. "Glad it came up on the GPS easy. I know not a lot of people I talk to are used to this part of town."

The way he waved it off was dismissive, but it spoke pretty clearly to the size of the house and the area of the city was in. He was old money, and nothing made that more obvious than the house he lived in. The house was large and grandiose, and the front entryway was almost moreso, with floor of white tile that might have been actual marble and high ceilings that were painted white and lined with gold. It wasn't literal gold, of course, but the way the paint shined replicated it. If he had wanted to, he could have put down a red carpet and it would have looked like it belonged there.

Michelangelo would clarify that he hadn't really chosen this standard and the house came with it, but semantics. He hadn't really made any effort to change it, either.

Of course, he hadn't made effort with a lot of things.

When Sadie came inside, he closed the door behind her, turning back toward her with a charismatic grin.

"You want anything? There's probably some good food in the fridge," he had a cook make him food every week because he hated cooking and he had the money for it, "or we can just proceed to the more relaxed area. I can show you where the hot tub is? And there's a drink fridge over there, too." The concept of a drink fridge made him sound a little sing-song.

He tapped his lips. "Oh! And like I mentioned over text, definitely got some fun ocarina stuff for you!"

Michelangelo let Sadie look around as long as she needed. He knew, conceptually, that his place was probably a lot for most people. He was used to it, having been raised around opulence to the point where it had long since become background noise, but even he preferred stepping away from it for a bit.

Needless to say, the hot tub area he enjoyed staying in wasn't nearly as fancy as the front entrance.

The moment she looked at him and gave her drink preferences, his expression broke into a grin. "Well, lucky for you, I have both," he motioned for her to follow him, walking backward with the familiarity of someone who lived in a house and stayed there a lot of the time to keep an eye on her while he headed by the kitchen and through an archway. "Fruit juices are good to make cocktails with, so I always keep plenty in stock. Sometimes it's fun to drink them by themselves too. Have you ever had loganberry?"

His talk about fruit juices was easily derailed, though, by her mentioning something more exciting.

She already knew Careless Whispers.

"You'll have to show me!" His expression broke into a wide grin. "I've heard a couple of videos of people playing it on ocarina as I was researching ways to translate it but I haven't heard it in person. I'd love to hear your arrangement and how it sounds--"

It did also change his plans a bit, but by the same token, that meant they could start with some harder stuff if she had already gotten Careless Whispers down...

"Bet."

Michelangelo didn't need to be asked twice if he wanted to show off any signature recipes. When he was younger, there were a few he had picked up from an occasional partner, as it were, who had also worked as a bartender. He had adapted them into his own over the years and he was eager to share them. For one, he had a recipe that he specifically used the loganberry juice with, and now that it had been brought up--

Well, that was the first thing he wanted to go for.

Michelangelo whistled when she finished the first phrase. In comparison to what he was used to from that song, it sounded less smooth and -- well, it still sounded smooth, but it had a haunting quality to it that it wouldn't have had on the comparatively harsher saxophone. He loved it.

That just meant he wanted to hear more and also know how it had gone in execution. He winked, gesturing widely toward another archway. "The hot tub, drink fridge, and the bar is through there. I mix up the drink, you tell me how well it worked?"

The idea they had come up with together was one he was eager to pursue. If music could be disruptive enough that at least people wouldn't attempt to murder them, Abzu had an easy solution he was happy to indulge.

Sax? He could do that.

Michelangelo thought it was very fitting himself. In general, it was a nice nod to the fact that they were both Neptunian and an especially nice nod to her outfit in particular. He looked over it for a moment and complimented her with, "Good choice," as he slid toward the bar and let her approach the hot tub.

As she spoke, he went to the drink fridge, scooped up loganberry juice, the berry liqueur, and some lemonade, and hummed to himself as he grabbed something else before kicking it closed and heading over to the bar. "I can't figure out the Velencians either," he admitted, scrunching his nose, "like the pastel aliens were behind the generators, right? But the Negaverse were the ones corrupting us."

He thought the aliens were the threat, but by the same token, he had been getting proved otherwise. He was glad music was working on them, though. He'd be interested in talking music with an alien. Was it the same for them?

But then she had the story that was a bit more serious, and Michelangelo was super curious about that. "Good to hear you got the starseed back from him." And also didn't get attacked, considering, which backed up the power of music as a distraction tactic. "How did the conversation go?"

It did look like she might have been hiding something, and maybe it was related to the conversation she had breezed over, but Michelangelo wasn't going to press her about the look on her face if she wasn't comfortable. He was just curious, especially because it sounded like it had been a successful execution of their idea.

Caedus... "That's one of the really tall pastel aliens, right? But scrawny?" That was the best way he could think of describing them. That had all been so rushed, so murky; all Abzu really knew was that at one moment he was receiving a message that he followed and the next the whole area around him blew up into chaos. ... Literally. Like they were flooding the field with it. He flipped a cup around and grinned before pouring in the first component of his drink: a bit of ice, of course. "Didn't know he was a senshi."

Of course, he hadn't exactly transformed or did anything to show that he was a senshi other than apparently having his starseed taken by the big buff pastel guy. Having some of the background of the whole situation did explain a few things. So they wanted to reboot their senshi and hoped it would reboot their worlds...

He poured out two of the other components, letting them mix together and glisten in the light. She was right: the Negaverse was bad. He had assumed the Velencians were bad because they were aligned. But... "So they're so desperate to kill him and reboot him possibly that they're willing to corrupt all of us. Or at least their other leader is." He knit his brows. "Guess it's a bit more complicated than the pastel invaders are bad, but I don't think I trust them either. You know Caedus?"

Well, if Pendour liked him, Caedus was probably not a bad guy himself--

"Also," in went just a little bit of the liqueur before he placed another cup on top of what he was making and shook it. "Bribes aren't usually recommended, but it worked, right? I mean, I'll bribe people all day if it gets them to stop killing people."

Did Michelangelo need to reconsider that opinion? Considering the research, maybe, but he had money. He could use it. That was something he could do without much effort.

Blue, scrawny, really tall, and liked Bob Ross. Probably was a soft guy, then? That was a bit of an assumption, but he had never really known a hardass to like Bob Ross of all things-- He finished shaking the drink, pouring some out into a smaller glass.

"Bob Ross is fun to watch. Relaxing. Even if I still suck at painting." His talent lied in music, and to be honest, he couldn't imagine anyone being annoyed at music, yet alone Pendour's. He scrunched his nose at the concept as he added a garnish to her drink and then started on his own--same blend, but he might have added a different garnish to it just for fun. "Can't imagine I'd get on too well with Lyndin either then. I can't get along with people who don't like music, and he attempted to kill the other leader on top of that..."

Michelangelo slipped around the bar and offered one of the drinks to her.

There was a part of him that wanted to respond with the fact that he had the money to keep up with that. If people started expecting payment from him to hand over the starseeds or energy they were taking, fine. At least he would have the starseeds back and people wouldn't be dead. Sounded like a win/win scenario even if he ended up having to explain a lot of weird charges to his accountant.

(Luke would survive.)

Selling souls in the first place, though, drew a groan from Michelangelo's lips. "You have a point there," he grumbled--not at her, but at the concept--as he took a sip from the drink he kept. "Look, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to stop people from dying," well, so long as he could do it, and could for him was a bit of a ... narrow definition, "but I don't want to encourage them to kill people just to fleece me for money either. Creates more potential deaths instead of preventing them."

Michelangelo pursed his lips. "Is there a balance though? Cause it seemed like you offering money that one time did work."

Michelangelo would never be a terribly good painter, but he could admire the chill that Bob Ross projected. He preferred to just watch, himself, because painting required getting an easel, which required shopping, which required setting up a canvas, which required mixing paints, and that just didn't sound terribly fun, but if Sadie was offering-- "Suppose you have a point there."

Maybe he could vibe paint with Sadie another time...

"I would hope so." Michelangelo took another sip of his drink. "There aren't a whole lot of situations where the only solution that's viable is 'kill a guy.'" He could think of a couple of situations where just killing a guy would have actually helped, but it was very particular guys and it certainly wasn't nice tall purple scrawny guys--

Oh, well.

He supposed she had a point.

He was going to respond, but she asked if he was getting in, and he interrupted his thoughts with a, "Oh, hang on," and set his drink down on a little platform nearby. He vanished back toward the kitchen for a moment, returning in a pair of swim shorts with a fun tropical leaf pattern on them. Happily, he lifted himself into the hot tub and sat himself in a different corner, wedging himself between a few of the jets and scooping the drink back up with his other hand.

"Yes, if you were wondering," another sip was taken from his drink. "But, anyway-- I guess you have a point. Part of me is tempted to argue I could keep up with it, and also anything is worth a life being saved because there isn't really a number that can be put on a life, but," he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "I guess the argument is that once they realize they can get it, they'll keep attempting to pursue it."

He, unfortunately, couldn't say she had sent this guy down that path. He wasn't there when she did it-- "Do you think there's a chance you'll run into him again? That might let you see the impact it had."