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He knew of the upcoming meeting. Adam had placed it in his work calendar to make sure his secretary didn't interfere with the cagey description of business lunch off-premises. He had put it on his other work tablet with the more accurate description of check-in with Gen. Faustite. He knew when the time was coming up and had even moved himself to his car in the garage to make sure that no one else was looking at him suspiciously when he left. All of these things had been properly set and arranged beforehand. He had even left his desktop screen on a large notepad note of b. r. b. if anyone had really insisted on barging into his locked office.

(His managing director, probably.)

Did that mean he was ready for the sensation of being tugged upon metaphysically to be teleported into the middle of an office he had never seen?

No.

Borax--because he was Borax now, not Adam--took a moment to capture his breath once he landed? Materialized? Formed into being? Vanished in one place and reformed in another? Those at the university would be envious of such a tight grasp of quantum physics. But it was gone as soon as it started, just as he had been gone from his car as soon as he had been pulled, and he straightened his back, the cordial smile making its way onto his lips.

"General," and that cordial smile was replaced with the edges of a smirk he seemed unable to release, "as you summoned."

He kept his gaze primarily on Faustite, though he couldn't help a momentary glance toward the desk. Now, what was that map of...

"Fair enough, Faustite." Borax had to admit he preferred the lack of formality. It made him feel like he was already making some headway in figuring out the social movement of his new organization, as much of an illusion as that may be. It was an illusion he was willing to entertain; false confidence did spades for projecting true confidence and gathering him exactly what he desired.

He obeyed directions from one who was his superior much better than he obeyed most, and sat down where directed. (Helped that he preferred chairs to standing, anyway, unless looming was part of the purpose.) Since it seemed the environment was a bit more on the casual side, he did swing one leg over the other, leaning back in his seat as he settled.

A chance to ask questions, a chance to report well on Jadarite, a chance to update his upper's upper what he had gotten up to. Something like a one-on-one, which was usually easy enough to bullshit and would be here except he had more than a passing interest in what he was doing here.

The soul capture, for one.

"She has been. Jadarite has proven herself as sharp as I presumed her as a civilian. Well-read, too. When I have had a question about documentation, she's been proficient in answering it." Borax knew how these reviews worked. On occasion, an upper manager might ask the lower employees how a middle manager was doing. It was part of determining their worth in receiving a promotion. If Jadarite was being looked at for a promotion, he'd certainly give her a boost. He'd expect the same.

He folded his hands over his lap, his eyes briefly shifting again as he observed the difference in the map the last time he had observed it. What was the general working on?

"I do have my title now, Lieutenant Borax. I've been learning the mechanisms of what is expected of us on patrol. I took the advice to keep my attentions on energy for the moment." He didn't quite hide the fact that he was still interested in the advancement of starseed withdrawal, and hadn't quite denied the fact that he was still learning that, too. "I have also been learning the layout of the team I have been inducted into. Had some conversations with Cryolite and a Fafnir." He tilted his head. "I have also crossed paths with a Miyamoto."

That covered the bases.

"Is there anyone you wished me to talk to?"

Miyamoto was an unexpectedly important connection, though he had quickly learned in his time in office politics that every connection was more vital than it seemed. A super was assuredly valuable, but Miyamoto had not been his immediate command. Of course, every linkage in an office, no matter how unassociated, could mean something.

(After all, it was impossible to tell when the janitor would be the one covering when the manager had let something go awry. It was also impossible to tell when the janitor would be the only one in the office with a decent thumb on the ins and outs of the politics he'd have to navigate.)

"Noted," he replied, because he was taking note of that. If Miyamoto was someone that he should keep an eye on for his skills in the capture and conversion of their enemies, Borax would follow up on that. He supposed killing all of them was a bit too extreme for their purposes; the more of them that could become members of this organization themselves, the more of them could be used to fight against them. Demoralizing, he was certain.

He hadn't quite expected the reaction to his question. He was used to the flow of office politics. There were times he was called into the office by a higher managing director just to be asked to speak with a fellow director or a different managing director. Part of the problem of living in a field where everything was delegated, even basic conversations. Adam had quickly fallen into the same. Sometimes, his employees would come into his office with one question, and leave with ten new ones to ask someone else.

Seemed easy enough for the topic to shift, though, away from who to speak to directly and moreso who he should speak to at broader spectra. SpecOps -- Special Operations, he had learned that one relatively quickly -- would be the source of any extensive combat training. He would have to pursue that. The point on his ink pen was ... manageable, but it was no weapon in a way as an axe like Jadarite possessed was. And Information for any further things about database access. It made sense.

"Understood." Another note he was making already: he needed to keep his eye out for anyone White Moon he could report on. Likely would be the most useful if it was of a higher rank he would be unwise to simply try to take out himself... though he was supposed to be focused on energy. "Thorough. What would be included in a thorough description?"

When he saw Faustite take his mug, he pulled the remaining mug closer to himself so he could mimic the usage of honey stick and half-and-half. It seemed Faustite's preference was tea. He'd make sure to have some tea bags available in his office as well. "To clarify, I imagine items such as appearance, name, and magic would be of the greatest utility. Are there any details I may be missing?

"And is there anything else this database tracks outside of our opponents?"

Specific is terrific sounded like the kind of cheesy thing he'd be told when he was writing a paper in high school, and he couldn't blame Faustite for the ensuing grimace. Still, the advice was valuable and as thorough as the descriptions would need to be. As Faustite spoke, Borax got out his tablet and started taking some bullet-point notes on the suggestions. He circled a Schörl a few times in his notes in particular; they seemed like a useful source considering they were named in particular.

Other things included the specific durations of magic, the distance between himself and the caster, what they said, what their disposition was, if that disposition was in some way favorable to them -- and he caught the mention of starseeds. Manipulating one with another's soul?

Sounded ... amusing to make someone squirm that way.

"Got it," he said, once he was done taking notes, setting the tablet in his lap for a moment as he went for another sip of tea. It was pretty good with the honey in it, actually. Borax had a caffeine addiction since he was a teenager and hadn't gone for tea terribly much, but maybe he'd see what the fuss was about--

Classified. Of course it was classified. Faustite wasn't wrong that Borax was the type to desire that deeper knowledge, and he itched to know more that was currently withheld from him. Itched to know who was there, who they were, how he could utilize them to climb the ranks, how they themselves could be utilized. "Suppose I have to see if I can gain access to that deeper knowledge later on."

That self-confident smirk did not know how to relax.

"The Rift?" Did that have anything to do with that map, perhaps? Borax chanced a glance at it once more but said nothing as he took a brief sip from his mug. "The lieutenants are encouraged away from that area, correct? The youma do not dislike our presence the way they do senshi, but," lieutenants couldn't necessarily hold their own against them, either.

Something he also endeavoured to improve.

It sounded like he wasn't going to be staying away from the Rift for terribly long, and the thought intrigued him. If he was gaining access to a place that was dangerous for him already, he either seemed quite expendable, or he had managed to get himself onto a team with a bit more influence or hands in more interesting pies. He was willing to bet on the second. Confidence? Sure. Did he also know he was recruited for his background in his professional job?

Absolutely.

"Noted." Borax's lips quirked. "I am interested to hear what I will be learning."

Maybe he'd hear the explanation for that map. What was Faustite plotting out on that...

He'd ask, but it seemed as if it would be inappropriate. Patience was the key to the game there, as he finished his tea and returned the mug to Faustite's desk. He would find out in due time, just like he would find out what those database records he couldn't quite access were.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Faustite." He stood up and bowed his head in thanks despite the more casual address. "I will take advantage of Headache's arrangement. Appreciate the offer."

As he turned to go speak to Headache, he finished with, "See you at our next check-in."

Or, perhaps, when he explained this Rift business.