Welcome to Gaia! ::

Being a member of Faustite's team came with the fringe benefit of being used to unexpected teleportation, as it were. There was a moment where he presumed Faustite pulled him out of the attack for some reason, but the energy around him didn't have the same easy warmth that he found chaotic auras did. It wasn't necessarily welcomed in either case; control of his own facilities were paramount to his whole life.

But this was wrong. This was very wrong. What would refuse to give him the satisfaction of watching the death he wanted to witness take hold?

... The ******** were these columns? Looked like something straight out of an older part of the Rift, just in less shitty repair.

Welcome to Hestia was what he saw on further examination, which led him to have to try and backtrack what the hell Hestia was other than some fake ancient bullshit. Or real? The skies above him looked alarmingly clear, like he was out in the middle of the ocean or taking a sabbatical to a location nearly untouched by humanity--minus, of course, the tourist attraction that was the hotel or the cabins.

Who the ******** was laughing and coughing?

Borax turned his attention toward the noise, eyes narrowing as he suddenly realized three things.

One, this was her homeworld.
Two, her name was Hestia.
And three, now he was trapped.

"Hestia," Borax growled, warningly. "Get me out of here."

If he finished her off, would he get to go home? If she died, would he be stuck here forever?

She was ******** smiling at him, of all things? His blood boiled under the surface, and perhaps more obviously on the surface with the way a small growl slipped from his lips anyway. He clenched his fist. He wanted to deck her again, and again, and again--

But that wouldn't get him anywhere at this point, would it? He needed to get the ******** back to Earth. Would he truly be stuck here if she died? He didn't know but didn't want to chance it, either. The last thing he needed was to be stuck until some child version of this senshi showed back up on this world and released him as some irritated forty-something without a damn thing to his name because he'd be long presumed dead. His fellows would be feasting on the corpse of his finances, as it were.

His spear was still in his hand, but he wasn't using it beyond something to lean on.

The red glistened so nicely on the metal in the starlight. Too bad painting it more wouldn't get him off this goddamn planet.

"This some ******** revenge? It's not funny, Hestia," Borax followed after her as she shuffled away, easily able to bridge the gap with how slow she was moving and how long his agitated corporate stride was. "Glad to know your world has rations, though." The snarl seeped back into his voice when he added, "Guess I could kill you."

He wouldn't because he wanted his life back.

There was a part of his mind that reminded him that as part of his Information assignments, he should probably be documenting this place. Perhaps an agent who had not already made a sour impression on her could utilize those rations she spoke of and sneak some of them back to Earth via subspace. Of course, that was quite the time consuming gambit--

Dying just to enact some sort of ******** up vengeance was both admirable and laughable. What the ******** kind of satisfaction would she or he or anyone else get out of that arrangement except mutually guaranteed destruction? That wasn't his style; he preferred his destruction to be one-sided and preferably hers and not his goddamn ********/>... That was a thought. Perhaps this Hestia had some idea of where the bank leak had come from. They had their head theory, which was woefully unsatisfying because the ******** was already dead and not even by his hands, but nothing was wrong with checking to see if any of the involved had any more of an idea if he was going to be stuck with her anyway. Something something doing his due diligence or whatever.

This place legit looked like a bar he'd find in the old West. Did she seriously get postcards printed? Why was this including a gift shop? How much had she modified this place, and how many Mauvians were involved--

"Do I?" Borax scoffed. Why the ******** should he tell his strangely hospitable captor who was bleeding out because he tried to ******** her up? "Borax." He'd tell her anyway because he might as well have a mark for his work as a warning for whatever records Order kept.

"Seen on plenty of shelves near you."

It was incredibly obvious she has been crying, and seeing the reminders of that and hearing the reminders of that in her voice brought him the kind of joy that he usually only joked about. Having some schadenfreude was usually allowable, but considering the circumstances to see her beat down like this was deeply satisfying in a way that went beyond funny.

A bit of a victory when she glared at him, perhaps, and all he did was smile at her as he moved to get a cup.

"That is true. It is also toxic if ten grams are digested. Far less for the children making slime." Borax seemed unbothered by its less threatening uses. He dipped a tea bag as he mused on it. "And it's ubiquitous. Can't really get away from borax, can you? Reason why I said you can find it on shelves near you.

"And if it doesn't kill you, causes nausea, fever, vomiting," he turned a little sneer in her direction. "Hardly so simple then."

"Truly."

Jadarite had chosen well, if anything. It felt like the name had belonged to him the whole time, and he stepped into it as easily as he breathed Adam Bal. How innocuous an item that graced most store shelves seemed until one dug just a bit deeper. He was sure he seemed unthreatening as the bank CEO.

She was part of what ruined that, of course. Now she had to nurse the consequences. Unfortunate.

"Restricted?" He snorted. "A hallucinogen or something?" He had heard of hallucinogenic teas, and considering that this world apparently was alive enough to have plans, he wouldn't be surprised if they had one of those. The focus tea sounded like the kind of bullshit he heard in those new age shops, but that wasn't his problem. Tasted decent enough anyway.

"This place seems pretty alive," he observed, in part because it conflicted with what he was told about these homeworlds. "Western saloon is just missing the damn people. No bar fights to watch here."

Or anything, really, other than Hestia trying to alleviate the damage from his work.

Now he had an intensive interest in that tea.

Not for himself. He didn't really suffer from nightmares. What happened to the bank was a nightmare, but he wasn't having nightmares about it.

For other people though? To give them a bit of tea as a warm invitation and subject them to suffering of their own mind? It was enticing. To watch people writhe as they suffered from something they couldn't escape... Borax buried it down with everything else. No point in focusing on it now. Perhaps he could find some way to slip some of it before she noticed.

Hestia was preoccupied with something, and perhaps he would need to keep watching for those situations. Her torso, sure, but her gaze had slid to nothing and everything for a moment. He sipped his tea unchangingly.

"Aren't all these homeworlds so terribly dead these days, though?" He glanced at her above his cup. "You White Moon are all on Earth because that's where the life seems to be, correct?"

He was fairly sure having enough life to formulate her own tea blends was more than he heard about some of these miserable floating rocks.

"You plan on abducting me again?" Borax's tone was wry. "Plan on being in death throes next time?"

So this Hestia had no interest in staying on Earth. Interesting. Did she plan on moving to this empty bar with its years of rations by herself? Who the ******** was she going to get to abandon their homes to come live in space? It wasn't even the moon, which felt believable; this was all souped up in impossible magic that let them breathe air science said they shouldn't.

And yeah, sure, pioneer spirit or whatever.

But was that the thought of most of these senshi and knights? ... Eh, perhaps it didn't matter. Borax wasn't in this because he believed in any of the lies they peddled. He was in it for the power.

He paused.

Also, perhaps the tea.

Borax wanted back to his home, but this perpetual flame sounded like a chance to perhaps get more information about the agent-stealing maid. And perhaps steal some of her mystery hallucinogenic nightmare-causing tea blend. That was perhaps his first priority.

His lips lifted in a smirk.

"I'll bite."