Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was late enough to be the next morning, which usually meant Hestia's last visit to the General King's office of the day. To bring him something to eat before bed, a less caffeinated tea, and whatever gossip she'd heard around the castle that day. Once people had gotten used to the maid senshi, ever busy at her work, it became easy to accept her as simply part of the scenery.

She liked to give him more meat at the end of his day, after he'd gone out to train and fight. Iron to make up for blood loss with red meats and salmon, certain roast nuts, known for promoting sleep As far as Hestia was concerned, Faustite was the hardest working of the General Kings, making it increasingly more important to both support his efforts as well as improve herself in order to keep pace.

In front of the office door, the bits of holiday decoration were gone, but the candy bowl remained. Deciding that it might help build goodwill toward her boss, Hestia now kept it filled with small packs of granola, nuts, and trail mix alongside tiny candy bars.

Taking a moment to wipe away a bit of soot from the bowl and it's small table, Hestia politely knocked on the door, announcing herself with her typical, "Sir, it's Hestia."

It wasn't the temperature that registered first, but rather the slightly cleaner air of the office when it's true owner wasn't in. She sighed and then smiled at the current occupant, "Hello, Mister Headache. I hope the evening finds you well?"

The state of the desk gave the impression that the General King hadn't left very long ago, and was still somewhat in the middle of duties rather than retiring for the rising day. Placing the meal in it's insulated bag at the side of the desk, she didn't start tidying up just yet, but rather gave Headache an assessing gaze.

In general, her most immediate form of care tended to be in the form of food. And the youma was such a part of her General King and his working day, that of course attempts had been made. But such things as grubs and mundane fireflies hadn't been very, ah, popular. Even nectar was a failure.

Eventually she'd been sat down for a more detailed talk about youma and their needs. It'd taken awhile to collect alongside her expected quota, but the senshi was determined to try once more with them.

And now here was her chance, and there wasn't even a General King to potentially fail in front of! After a moment Headache would find an ornate bowl placed on the desk in front of them. "Are you perhaps hungry, sir?"

From her space she pulled out a neatly formed ball of purple energy, and set it to float over the bowl.

Cutlet.

Hestia's smile froze and disappeared, leaving her face expressionless and eyes a little wider than usual. Her hands gave a restless little curl, trying not to pop her knuckles or make a fist.

Gizzard.

The maid relaxed entirely, smiling at the youma with an indulgent sort of mood. She'd been worried, for a moment, that it'd created a nickname to infer that she was small, and cute. Thankfully, it just saw her as food.

"Because you can have the energy, but you may not have my starseed, sir." It was said with the soft confidence of one who had spent the greater part of fourteen years dusting youma. The easiest and most emotionally uncomplicated targets that chaos reliably provided.

Hestia liked Headache. It seemed to work fairly hard for its master in ways rather unique to other personal youma. Faustite also seemed to trust and rely on it a great deal in his everyday life, despite their often caustic exchanges. It felt very familial and home-like when the two were together. But neither that feeling nor her new allegiance could erase the innate sense that she should try to dispose of a youma, with her full strength and no hesitation in her heart.

It wasn't unlike her conflicted feelings toward Borax. The comfortable trust that had so nicely settled in her brain, right alongside the instinct that one of them should die.

"Do you dislike it?" And here, there was a bit of a sulk. She'd really thought she had finally found the correct meal for them! It was a lot of work to gather!

For a bit, Hestia couldn't help but feel a bit victorious, a little smug that she'd finally gotten Headache to eat something she'd made for them. It lasted even through the transformation into her former self.

She's short. The sulky look returned. Even once she realized he was quoting Borax, likely in some report or other information entry about her. And after a moment, that didn't feel too bad either. He hadn't underestimated her.

Even if the youma before Hestia seemed to think the agent had overestimated her. Picking up the bowl, she neatly dismissed back into her space. "Because that'd be stupid, Headache. If he were to kill me, I'm sure it would be in a manner he could actually benefit from." It was, perhaps, an odd defense of both her value and her leader's intelligence.

Straightening up to consider the her that once belonged to Order, it occurred to Hestia that if the youma knew her better, had tried to get close or sought other avenues of information about her, it could have brought her to shambles. A little more interest, more investment in a target, and the youma could be so, so dangerous to one's stability of mind.

"I like you," she finally replied. "Despite being a youma, you've made more of yourself than a simple means of energy collection, or target training for basic senshi and pages. You're useful and unique to the General King."

After a quiet moment, she went on, "Captain Borax wrote that as my enemy in the field, not as an ally in this castle. So Headache, do you want to meet me as an enemy?"

She smiled back, with long perfected politeness.

She filed the listed traits away for later. The General King held many of the attributes that she held highest (though that actual height...), but knowing more of his possible weaknesses could only help Hestia in her efforts. Especially the more internal ones, the ones easiest to hide right up until they were splashed all over the floor.

"Well, as you aren't interested in a spar, I wouldn't want to bully you, Headache," she agreed with the gentle confidence that it would, in fact, be rather easy to bully the youma when it came to combat.

In some ways, they could be considered rather similar, but coming from very opposite directions. Both working in service to the same master, in the background, as quiet figures of modest purpose. For Headache to work in the General King's office was a climb up for its kind. For Hestia to concern herself with such mundane goings on was likely considered a step down by certain types. A youma, apparently, among them. She wondered, briefly, what it would do, given the type of power a General or Eternal could wield and freedom from the Rift.

"But what sort of things have you deemed irrational? That's a rather harsh assessment to direct at the General King."

the maid senshi stood a little straighter, gaze slightly more respectful, when Headache took on this form. It was something Hestia herself had never noticed, and if she had, would be rather helpless to change.

"He's a very passionate person," she nodded, and in her mouth, it was much more a compliment than an accusation. "Emotion can be a double edged sword, leading one to both inspiration and destruction. Could he have achieved the prestige he has now without walking that line? He certainly wouldn't be nearly as renowned within the order Database if he had a colder nature."

From her space she produced a teapot and a cup, pouring herself a nicely steeped cup of roasted green tea. Settling in the chair across from the youma, she asked, "But who is beyond rehabilitation? That's very concerning."

"Charisma in a leader can also make them aspirational. But you're not wrong that it can blind and clutter one's vision, leading one away from the path truer to themselves," Hestia sighed into her drink. They weren't necessarily in disagreement, save for the fact that Hestian philosophy honored an individual's wants as vital to their path. Headache seemed to have a firm, maybe even narrow, idea on what other's should be doing, no matter their personal wants. She wasn't sure if it was the environment and situation youma developed within, or simply Headache's personality. Or maybe it was the conviction of the very young, that allowed for less nuance and perpetually demanded results to meet their own taste.

Apparently Mister Albite was not to their taste, which startled her. Albite was a very strong and notably effective fighter, whose unpredictability made him a figure to be wary of. Then again, he was undeniably a passionate person, and perhaps that unpredictability was seen as another weakness by the youma. Hestia watched headache shift, easily taking for granted its many-as-one, and wondered if it would like playing video games, where personality was written out of the system of battle in favor of clear numbers and the shared desire for optimal paths.

"Helio?" That Faustite would be attached the corrupt super was not surprising, Helio was quite simply a very beautiful young man. One with a quiet well of something just out of reach, that led one to want to look a little longer at him, see a little further into him. "What could push the General King to give up on him?" There was a lot of chatter and gossip that Faustite had a quick, destructive temper. But it was balanced by those sighing over how large and eccentric his team was, which spoke of a rather patient and tolerant sort of leader.

Listening to Headache, certain pieces of Hestia's understanding shifted places and changed shape. A first subordinate, years and years ago. That would have been, they would have both been very young, wouldn't they? And it sounded like a forced corruption at that.

A mutual dissatisfaction and resentment, a building up over those initial wounds. It sounded very, well...messy. And that was before Faustite's husband was brought into it. Or, considering a ring, other husband?

Eyebrows lifting, Hestia sipped at her tea. If asked, she'd say that she had listened to the explanation with a calm and proper demeanor, but every bit of startlement, confusion, and concern had been clearly write across her features for every twist and turn.

"Goodness." In the end, she had to nod with some reluctance, "That does sound rather too extreme a response to be considered rational. Though perhaps it may have been therapeutic if he had gone through with the threat." Hestia didn't see it as entirely dangerous to Heliodor, smart and fully capable of transforming and teleporting, or even using his magic, which she hoped to see and experience soon.

After a moment, she asked, "Does the General King have many such entanglements?"