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[backdated to Saturday April 26, 2025]

The spot along the hiking trails deep into the woods from last time seemed as good as any place to meet. This time, Kyrie remained at her van, the back doors wide open to take full advantage of the warmth late April had to offer. Various plants were set out on the parking lot beside the van, all soaking up the sunshine as she spritzed water amongst the leaves as needed.

Each step of hers had a bit of a spring to it, a smile never leaving her face. It was hard not to be elated--she had her power back. Mostly. The tiny Mauvian altering her own back to its old form, that intense energy fluctuating through her stabilizing into the uniform and strength she'd once possessed centuries ago? She hoped it was a catalyst of good things for her world. She needed to make it so.

Plus? The Earth wasn't destroyed. So hey, that was a massive win worth celebrating.

Gave them time to figure out what to do next. Kind of.

Kyrie set the water bottle down inside its holder in her van, turning so her back faced the cover of her van before she stretched up onto her tip-toes to reach high as she could to work some of the stiffness out of her muscles. Her wings flexed and flapped, exposed skin on her arms and legs shimmering in the sunlight. She'd told Devyn she wasn't 'hiding' at the moment in her most recent text to him that she was at the spot. It felt better to not wear the glamor, and he already knew what she was.

Feeling the warmth on her wings was precious to her. She wasn't going to waste the chance.

As it was, she had parked in such a way that the back of her van opened up away from the entry to that parking lot, giving her cover behind the wide open doors or in the van itself to yank the magic over herself if she caught any unknown entering the area. Sitting just inside the van with her legs swing over the edge, she kept an eye on a mirror placed where she could see through a window towards the front, and any approaching vehicle. No music played, no videos on her phone. She made sure nothing would block any sound of footsteps, either, in case someone came down from one of the paths.

She was being cautious about being unglamored. She understood the dangers. But she felt… good. She felt like indulging. Besides, most of her time back on Solaris was spent inside the damn hangar…

Kyrie closed her eyes and tipped her head up to the sun, basking much like her plants. Good a mood as she was in… she knew the upcoming conversation might not be so light-hearted. Maybe. Devyn would probably be delighted talking about more incoming fights with other Heralds, whenever that all hit.

As Devyn was wont to do, he was dressed in clothes quite a bit flashier than he had any right to wear while taking a stroll in the forest: tall boots with too much gold and heel to be efficient on a hike, and high waisted double breasted black pants that left little to the imagination. The white silk shirt tucked in hugged his torso but the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The very deep V cut would have exposed most of his chest had he not had the decency to spare his husband’s attention and also put on a deep teal, high-collared undershirt.

And gold. So much gold. Enough jewelry that he could have opened a shop if he’d wanted to. But he liked the noise it made, the little clings of chain and metal as it brushed against itself.

But then, Devyn was always a little flashier when he had more to hide.

So a few extra bracelets and double the rings and earrings with a reflection that rivaled the sun, and necklaces layered enough to steal your gaze.

And if he had bandages under his clothes, you’d never know.

And if his step was uneven, it was the boots.

His hair was in a high ponytail to keep it out of his face but he wore dark sunglasses, because even if he could see just fine, it didn’t mean his eyes were happy about it. He was playing it safe, in his own way.

With his free hand, he waved to Kyrie and flashed a grin as disarming as his attire.

“More plants? Where are you getting them all?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the hiking path behind them as if he might find some freshly dug holes. “Looks like you’ve got twice as many as the last time we were here. Can you eat any of them?”

“I think I’ll take you up on one of your fizzy ones, if that’s okay. Something citrusy, maybe,” he requested, offering Kyrie a small smile. His voice was calm and polite, but the heaviness of what happened recently was just underneath like a quiet tension.

He kept Devyn’s hand in his, gently adjusting his hold so it wasn’t too tight or too loose. It was a good alternative to grabbing for his necklace. Just the gentle weight of Devyn’s palm against his own.

“You’ve got a whole garden center going,” he observed, glancing over at Kyrie’s plants, appreciating how carefully they’d been arranged. How they were all labeled. How they seemed determined to grow. He was almost surprised by how comforting it was to see something so small and so alive, being taken care of with such diligence. It made perfect sense that Kyrie would busy herself with something like this. It suited her.

While he might have had his eyes on the little plants, his attention drifted back to Devyn. He wanted to observe him, to make sure there was nothing out of place. It wasn’t that Michael didn’t think Devyn looked good -- he always did, and Michael would defend his husband’s right to dress as extravagantly as he wanted to anyone who dared comment on it. But the tight clothes and heavy jewelry might agitate sore muscles or tender, bruised skin. He didn’t say anything, not wanting Devyn to feel like he was being judged. But Michael quietly wished that Devyn had taken an extra day to rest. Maybe two.

“I’m glad you seem like you’re doing better,” he continued the conversation as though he wasn’t momentarily distracted. “But I think you asked us here for more than garden talk.” There was nothing accusatory in his voice, just… focused.

“After what happened with the Hollow, I don’t think any of us can afford to assume things are quiet just because they feel quiet.”

Surely the Negaverse was not just figuring out what to do with the Calamitous Hollow, but they’d all revealed their hands when it came to power. They still had to figure out what kind of weapons each other had at their disposal. Could they always expect to rely on the Moon Kingdom when other dimensional world devouring creatures show up on their doorstep? Would the Negaverse take the opportunity to wipe them out as well, if they determine they no longer need help from Senshi and Knights?

“Are you both really okay?” he asked, his voice a little more tense as he looked from Kyrie to Devyn. “I don’t want to be paranoid. But I’m not ready to let my guard down.”

One fizzy drink, and… Kyrie flicked Devyn a bemused look. "Guess you're out of luck if it's whatever I like least." She slipped back into the van, over to the small fridge and yoinked out a few bottles of flavored, bubbly waters. As she handed them over, Michael got a lemon lime, Devyn a mixed berry, and Kyrie sat back down on the edge of the open back of the van with her peach flavored one. She gestured to the other open parts of the lip she was sitting on, and to some folding chairs stacked against the wall next to the doors just inside. "Sit wherever, wasn't sure who wanted shade or sun or what."

She cracked the seal on her drink, enjoying the immediate burst of peach scented carbonation that broke out with it. Didn't add anything to Michael's query on statuses and diving into the real reason for the talks. Well. First of two reasons. She did like seeing them. Devyn's reassurance was met with a light snort though, before she leaned back to nab a small bag of pretzels that she tossed to him.

"I'd be up for a spar, yeah. Need to get back into the swing of things, so to speak." She did peek up at the skies, not seeing the incoming clouds yet but not arguing. "Guess I'll just leave these guys out for a drink then."

But much as she enjoyed just chatting and relaxing, there were clear motives behind the request. Michael had hit the nail on the head about the Calamitous Hollow, and Kyrie took a sip of her drink before she focused on the issue at hand.

"I thought an ally died in that fight towards the end, and though she… woke back up, or whatever it had been, I didn't exactly appreciate the reminder of how many other people I couldn't help." Though she spoke almost bored about the memory of Ekstrom falling and eyes looking like the cosmos, the sick twisting of her stomach and subsequent puffing up of her wings were the internal and external reality of her condition. As did the sharpness of her eyes and smile. "I'm not keen to experience that again."

She couldn't prevent Chaos from consuming and killing her world, or as close as it'd come. She wasn't sitting back and watching Earthlings have to suffer the same fate of their loved ones and homes being lost, regardless of the cause. <******** that.

"I want to go take another look at the Moon Palace, see what records they have about the other Heralds of the Dark Star, and the Dark Star itself. Not sure if they'd faced the others like they had the Calamitous Hollow, but worth a shot to check what records they do have--even if they're just speculations and stories." She took another sip, eyes on the way the sunlight sparkled on the water. "I'd like to reach out to the Vanguard, too, see if they can use any of my peoples'..." Remains? Relics? "...old stuff for more devices like that shield, or weapons or whatever." Kyrie eyed Devyn and Michael. "I know you've got stuff you said you've been sorting through? And you've got to have some interesting info stored away," she said to each respectively.

"Also would like someone to keep an eye on the current angry snake's prison. Wonder if Almadel's got info on anything," she added as a sudden aside, eyes flicking off and narrowing in consideration. There were… many things she wanted, and the list she'd given wasn't even the tip of the iceberg, nor an exactly extensive explanation for the likely difficulties and problems that could be encountered with any of it. They'd been lucky with some of them getting pulled into the prison and finding the spikes.

She wasn't about to count on another miracle for anything else.

"....still don't even know what brought us up there," she mumbled into the rim of her bottle, brows furrowing.

When Michael took a seat, Devyn took the one next to him. The shade might have been kinder to his eyes but he could see both Michael and Kyrie like this and, more importantly, he could stretch out his leg to nudge Michael’s foot with his own.

It wasn’t a request for attention. He just didn’t want Michael to forget that he was there.

He wouldn’t admit fatigue nor soreness but his body had been protesting all morning. He might have been grateful for the chance to take himself off his feet for a moment. Devyn was hardly the image of an injured man; he stretched out comfortably, reclining like he was soaking up all the sun.

He’d downed half the drink while they were talking; he’d caught the bag of pretzels effortlessly and was halfway through them, too.

Michael had just finished speaking and the corner of Devyn’s lips curled into the shadow of a smile. He spent most of his life tempting fate. It had taken its fair share of swings at him.

He was still standing.

Devyn was probably well beyond his second chance.

He agreed with most of the suggestions. The Moon Palace was risky, but only because he couldn’t believe that it survived for this long without its own safeguards–and who knew how deep they could dig before they started setting off traps? Was any information there even valid? Who could say if the Moon Palace would have honest text or red herrings?

But of course, he liked stories. So he didn’t think this was a bad idea.

He didn’t know what the Vanguard might be able to offer; his interactions with them were practically nonexistent. He’d have offered from his world if he thought it might do any good. He wasn’t willing to part with his relics, though. He wasn’t ready to trust them away just yet. He’d need assurances that the treasures of his world would be used for good.

Devyn was sentimental, but practical.

And Peter had done such a good job of cataloguing.

A thought for another day; this was Kyrie’s plan, not his.

“I’ve got plenty of interesting things stored away, I just don’t know how much of it might be relevant. Nothing I’ve found so far stands out. I can go through my records and look for more information, but finding anything new is a slow process. I’ve read every book in the Hall and Arista, and things are less preserved beyond those limits.”

Even now, Devyn made frequent trips to his world. He wanted to find and restore–and preserve–whatever he could. He had the means to make sure the legacy of his world persisted, and it was one of many goals he was working towards.

Looking for information that might be relevant to her research was practically just killing two birds with one stone at this point.

“I have a few questions I want answered, too. I’m not sure where I’ll find the answers, but that won’t stop me from looking. Tell me though–your ally, the one you thought died? Who was it, what happened to her?”