Welcome to Gaia! ::

Reed felt like he’d be picking ichor out of his hair for weeks to come, could only sigh haphazardly at the state he’d returned in; once the void zone had spit him free, half bruised and full of grimes up marks from beasts beyond his reckoning.

He wasn’t sure why he was up, really, at least not at first. He’d had some odd, half formed dream about missing keys and doors that opened up into emptiness he was unprepared for — felt that falling jolt that reminded him too much of every mission gone wrong.

But when he opened his eyes — nothing — no missing items, or vanished furnishings — he wouldn’t’ve even realized the little crumbled wad had he not stepped on it while making his way out to the calling of midnight kitchen snacks (he’d have to beg Sonia for more empanadas, but only the sweet kind)

But the *krinkle-crunch* paper —- And now he was waking up to wads of cash wrapped in hastily scrawled halves of paper?

What in the name of all that was sane —

His house was in turmoil, or so it felt, but maybe that was his own unease at possibly being negligent and losing face?

Hatsya had left, after all, thought it better to hold him in the dark for *reasons* - Actaea still needed so much, he’d managed not a single promotion for any of them, and now this?

Odd notes and wadded ones…

It was far too early, late enough that it’d become tomorrow, but still early enough that the summer sun hadn’t yet shown its face, and Reed made it a point to knock. Padding over on purple socked feet hemmed in green; a rapid little tapping - he didn’t want to wake the others - but?

He wanted answers - and tea- and some of Sonias leftover churro stash…

“It’s fine,” because it wasn’t anything serious. Not right then. The lengthy pause after the knock where he held his breath just to listen. Held her lowered gaze to watch; and feel all sorts of monstrous for dragging Amora away from the precious hard-won moments of her free time. Watching a show she had interest in. Looking at him like she’d killed his dog and forgotten to bury the body…likely left it on his kitchen table…a protective layer of guilt cradled like her laptop to her chest. The body language screamed *something* he wasn’t quite sure how to muster the matching empathy for that. To start apologizing for making her look kicked and tired all at once…

Suddenly ‘Need’ seemed too strong a word to ascribe to what he was doing right then.

Did he need tea at whatever dawning hour it was? *No*.

*But he wanted it…* - preferably with vodka, whisky, and Sonias home made sopapillas! Cinnamon, sugar, spice, he missed her.

Did he need to bother her over random notes and slips of bills? *Yes.*

If only to sort his own confusion; which ran like poorly laid tracks under a building migraine that encompassed ‘the whole damn week and all of destiny cities population’! ******** void tunnels and missing rooms and……

But did he need to do any of that at that exact moment? No. Definitely not. There was such a thing as sleeping dogs and allowing them to lie quiet.

“At least I think it’s fine? That is —-“ he blew a breath, searched his ceiling, decided it needed a new coat of paint, and then? “—would you like some tea to go with your — show?” The weighty ‘and’ tapered with ‘tell me about the money’ got dropped like a lead balloon off a cliff and kicked under other words.

He would ask! He would.

But maybe only after a cup of hot mint, a spritz of ginseng, and some ibuprofen.

“Later then,” and he was alright with that, would have to be, for all that he wanted to know her burgeoning interests and hobbies, for all that he wanted to glean some greater insight into whatever world she’d begun constructing for herself on her own? He found that he could wait until she thought it an appropriate time, and smile for her putting a veritable pin in it.

He thought her room was coming along well at least, let his longing to prod at the goings on within lie — laters for later for later than this, because she was right, the point of him seeking her out had very little to do with anything else, and if she had other things she wanted to discuss?

Good.

That she was willing to offer it up was better than good, brave really. She deserved applause for bringing up subjects to broach all on her own..

“I always find that tea solves everything, well, most things? Headaches at least. Feels like it’s been the longest sort of — year? Yes. A long year.” Chamomile, mint, lavender, honey, a box full of mixed packets got set near Amoras countertop perch; Reeds body auto-piloting through a routine he could preform without thinking. Adding water to a black and rose gold kettle. Setting it to boil. Fetching ceramic cups - his full go engraved cacti, the one with a wide brim and fiery red peppers that he’d always attributed to Sonia, also got set Amoras way. He supposed she would’ve wanted it passed on to her protege’.

“Full of monsters, and chaos, and new beginnings —“ and he caught purchase on the adjacent counter near the stove, rested hip and curled his arms about himself as he waited for the telltale hiss’s of steam before the boil — “—but? I imagine that’s not what you wish to talk to me about. Goodness knows, with everything going on outside my purview, and, oh - say - the sudden appearance of notes under my door? I’ve questions.” tired patience without the pressure, his words bookended with yawns. He couldn’t help but ramble off before reminding himself to bite his tongue long enough to let her have a word in.

“Oh, you’re welcome to argue it with me Amora, that and any other point, really. I’d not fault you for all the common sense you speak.” tea to soothe, to busy hands, to still his mouth. In truth? The drinking of it had as much to do with ingrained habits; a need to *clutch*, pen, keys, trowel — as it did to do with the herbal benefits and a chance for a bit of caffeine and heat to alleviate his personal woes.

It was the drink to offer, for all that his only other options were lemonades and gingerales - it was too late for his liking to blend something icy. Too loud.

Reed took some soft notice of Amoras choice in drinks, and smiled for it; the look on her face as she found something she enjoyed enough to have tucked away from the others. The apology was waved off with ease, because it felt right, natural even, to be working around each other so easily. A simple dance that ended with a trill of steam drawing him away, the bottom of his ceramic cup got dalloped with his choice of honey (the orange blossom variety), he’d let her manage the amount of desired cream on her own.

It was clear she was capable — that she’d grown — likely when he wasn’t looking, between the passing of days turned into months.

As she spoke he busied himself with taking the kettle off the boil, ensuring each bag of choice drink was positioned just so, as to steep properly; the seconds ticked into minutes, the shades of water trickled darker and darker still — strung bags ended up pulled and set aside to have their innards composted in the morning — only a few drips trailed a pathway, cup rim to ceramic plate, before the vessel was finding its way carefully back into her hands and he was find her his full, undivided focus.

There was a lot to hear — there was a Starseed in his kitchen — not an impossible happening, given Mizukis proclivities, but the surprise in his eyes showed how he’d not have expected it from Amora, at least, not like this. He was going to have to buy Xyla treats - an excess of them - for putting in the amount of work she has, some kitty-equivalent overtime pay, or however Mauvians measured these things in their day to day living.

“Oh, Amora, you didn’t have to push yourself like this...“ clearly he had to make adjustments to their quota requirements given varying times of the year, if this was what happened mid summer? What would winter bring? It was unthinkable that any of his girls would suffer for — well — the ‘cause’, there was suffering enough to go around without adding heat stroke and frostbite atop it!! “…we’re going to make sure your subspace is adequately stocked for weather situations from now on.” he sighed in steam, found his eyes drawn to the gleaming life held so delicately in the palm of her hand.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” a line of casual that fettered his tone. Spoken by Reed as if to say ‘these things happen’ while being just shy of dismissive, because her questions warranted merit of the moral sort. Needed a view through the lense labeled ethics, even though he wasn’t the sort, was truly, genuinely, far more concerned about her well-being than the soon to be corpse and some thrifted cash. Not that it mattered when her questions deserved his honest consideration, “We do need them, not the way we once did, but?” He sipped his mint, got cozy against the center, cast in the shimmering glow, pulled his gaze from it to meet her questing eyes.

“Once upon a time…This—-the sacrifice of few for the many, it was the only way. Energy draining didn’t exist as an option — it was war, lives were on the line, and so we made due with our —- incidentals.” with dead little girls, and families laying limp in parks, hospitals overflowing with the ‘comatose’ that would run on existing supports another two weeks at most…before quietly going to line city morgues.

“I would say, Metallia is like an excellent chef, who makes use of all materials — snout to tail — hoove to hawk. I can’t promise you that you’ll never have to take a life in battle, but if it bothers you do it this way? You don’t have to.”

“But since you have, even if it is accidental, then we should make use of it - shouldn’t we?” because he wasn’t as ethical as he should’ve been, or as moral, or…

Feelings we’re new, small, sprouting things. He held them for his team, a few outstretched others, kamacite, Jet, etc…

“You’ve time, though, luckily it takes more than a few days for these things to become permanent. You can examine your feelings, make a choice. I’m more than happy to help you see it returned — if that’s what you settle on believing to be right. You’ve not failed anyone — amora, and? A starseed, even accidentally gained, would alleviate your quota worries quite easily.”

As was his course, instead of offering clarity he'd only managed to muddle things further. Reed listened, listened well to the beats he'd missed while catching the way she deeply considered all possible avenues -- the way she admired that glittering bit of bright where the light ghosted between her fingers and cast paper lantern like glints throughout his kitchen interior. How starseed lamps offered fresh from the topmost layer of the Scars caves deep within the Rift came to mind -- a merchant who spoke too much -- the walls coming alive and closing in...

Reed shook that bitter nostalgia free, a gentle motion and fingers clasping claw like round his cup to better feel the heat all the way through. He would've made a terrible youma, however much he admired them. He maybe made a terrible General, the way his subordinates burdens were to be his own in some way, to be carried as one, as a team.

"It is the most logical, isn't it?" he longed to have the tea cup back, to steal a swallow, more -- and let the mint soothe his urge to sigh and nod the problem away so easily. Instead he stroked a thumb over the slickest parts of the crystal that now lay in his hands. Taking this for her, it would've been a kindness, wouldn't it? To simply take the thing and carry the choice further to his own ends --

"Ah, except giving this to me doesn't quite resolve everything. There are benefits to holding on," there was some apology in his tone and the way his eyes skirted her slight frame that spoke of a lesson he wanted to teach - the one thing he was ever good for, "I've met white moon who will trade your life for the Starseeds on your person, youma half starved and feral that will let you leave if you toss a trinket their way; a life for a life as our allies sometimes trip and stray even beyond our command," she was a basic Senshi still, a snack, and never would his 'allies' be 'hers' entirely in that nature. Iolanthe was a different beast all her own, a glory who spared most at his gentle request - if she'd been loose however? "and no better a bartering chip does a life make against those who would be our enemies --- for some..."

When it came down to it? He wanted her safe, yes, but also? He wanted her to keep her responsibility of the item in question. However accidentally done, taking a life was taking a life was taking one.

"Having many is hardly advisable Amora, but having just this one?" and how best to have expressed that helping her and carrying her burden with him? Well, these were differing things entirely. He had his own burdens shaped like stolen lives and the stars brightest diamonds to heft and drag his soul like the chains of some future damned.

"Still, if you insist..." his own inability to be decisive ate at him for a moment more, she came to him for advice in her own way, he gave it honestly. He wouldn't shove the thing back into her arms if it caused more unease then she could bear, but he would talk about it as honestly as possible. "I would at least hear what your first choice was."

"Are you kidding? Honestly, Amora you're doing fine," Reed was softly exhasperated with himself, the chuckle dry and wispy in spit of all the tea he'd sipped prior, he couldn't blame her for thinking herself irresponsible, but it wasn't at all what he'd meant. "It's more myself then you. When I started back then, we so rarely had proper command chains. I remember I inherited a captain at some point, and then took up with a General whose no longer with us to my knowledge." her name was there, her face, he remembered Xenotime as easily as some few others, but he hadn't come under any truly commanding General until later, didn't even remember who'd corrupted him in the first place.

"This was before the Sovereigns, before Laurelite was Queen. Everything is so much better now. So don't beat yourself up if you feel like you've slipped some, I'm not perfect either; you and the girls are, by all rights, the first team I've held sway with in ten years," and he wanted to hug her as badly as he wanted to pace, or fetch her a new cup, or make himself busy to avoid all the inevitable feelings the conversation would drag up to the surface unwittingly. Feelings were always the hardest part. He'd needed that beaten into himself, and just maybe? Had to share it's dificutly with her.

"The only advice I can really give you? Is to feel it. If it's shame, or embarrassment, or -- the pain of having committed what is indeed a murder, however accidental? Grieve, and cope and if you can't cope come tell one of us and we'll maybe parse together the skills for that as well? If you manage to run into something I haven't......" a shrug because he could picture that. The universe was a strange thing and she'd face trials he hadn't simply by existing as a Senshi! He couldn't blame her for wanting to bury her problems anymore than he could continue to blame himself for having run, countless times. Reed was the picture of having failed to cope, and if he could pass anything on at all to his dearest friends, to his companions, it would be to avoid becoming as he had, in all ways possible.

"I'm honestly glad that you trust me enough to have even left a note. The me of the past would've been to full of cowardice to have done so..." Hylonome was his beautiful flower and he believed in her. Her ability to express herself, her ability to find kinship with the team, maybe if he needed more people? To make it all larger? Ah..to hire a therapist that was negaverse approved? All possibilities he'd have to look into.

Reed considered that maybe since the rank of General had been bestowed upon him, that he'd learned something, considered that he was still young and learning constantly, much to his own annoyance. For never did he like to feel small and uneducated in subjects geared to his liking.

Feeling things? That had been new. A surprise. Painful little cracks that'd dragged on like growing marks in glass armor. Until it'd all shattered so hard that he'd simply had to feel or suffer the ding it felt like it'd cause. He'd learned it all in the reverse, and for that he held regrets -- all his bottling like shaken champagne and then all his explosive over-reacting when even the tiniest things went wrong -- So Amora's surprise at him did not, truly surprise him, he could only offer a tilted smile and shrug because it really was a thing he'd just learned too.

A thing to be shared.

"Don't drown in them, because the Negaverse needs you as much as I do Amora," he was sure some would argue him mad for making the suggestion at all. Lovely Amora, so astute as to have picked up on those subtleties within their organization, new to it as she was. He acknowledged that with a nod and shrug of consequences, because so long as they did their jobs efficiently? Who cared how they coped with the ways they were done, "but do indeed feel them. If anyone gives you s**t for it? You can always send them to me. They're wrong, they suffer, and it is saddening."

As if he still had fear of contempt from any party above him, from Kings or Queens or other Generals. Death and Youmafication were not the threats he once feared them to be as a child...

Feelings were far scarier.

That'd been a hard truth for him to learn, how to color inside the lines without becoming the box. How to find people so he didn't end up so alone as to run and never return. If the lack of a thing had driven him to eye the other side like a retreat instead of a threat? Then doing the opposite now might just help her the way it'd helped him..

"Besides, I don't need any more 'Me's in this world --- picking up abilities that a child should've mastered only as they edge towards thirty..." he chuckled for it, the one of him was enough, he wasn't so narcissistically vain that he needed an entire team of himself to lord over - like cloned seedlings in a mason jar -- "..maybe I'll add some books on the subject to our little library? Can't all just be recipe reads and my failed botany projects.." he thumbed the small warm life one more time, before pressing it back into the waiting palm of her left hand, and closing her fingers over it.

He believed in her.

"Would you like a hug?"

"Thank you for coming to me," and he meant it for everything, from the note full of money under the door to the willingness to have a conversation; to accepting his hug. It meant more to him than he'd realized it would, having the chance to genuinely talk out all the things he'd feared over a decade ago -- to have the conversations with her that had never once been had with him in any kind of soft or decent manner.

Everyone who could've left, sensibly, took an out rather than risking their own hides by sounding even the slightest bit like the 'traitorous' ideal that would've gotten them killed in the past. The Negaverse was far less kill happy now than it had been in a prior time, and so he could hug his Amora without nagging guilt or fear, could tell her to feel things without worry of condemnation.

He was a Gneral now after all, meek and mild as he was compared to his mission happy brethren who peaked loftily and spent time amongst the queens halls --- he also wasn't the sort of sallow pushover who'd let anyone question the way he managed his Garden.

If anyone bothered his girls about things? Well, what better to do with his free time than step up and handle it.

"Thank you for everything," slipping forewords to tug her into a gentle embrace, needing the hug for himself as much as for her, "I'm proud of you, you know? I know it might seem silly, but I really do mean it."