"I told you I wasn't interested, Edmund," Syrcaid said, putting a kettle on the boil.

"The factory is in shambles, your previous occupations have proven-"

"What?" She gave him an accusing look. "Failures?"

"Mmyes," Edmund nodded, approaching the stove to observe the kettle idly, hands clasped always behind his back. He drew his breath and tried another approach. "Syrcaid, you're among the handful who defected from G-Corp who are still alive and the history you have with them is buried. No one's holding it against your throat. What I'm saying is your attempts to make a living with the rest of society has been proving unprofitable."

"Well, maybe I wasn't doing it for profit," Syrcaid moved away from the stove and went to the cupboard to fetch the tea cups.

The old toy factory still stood, it was her home away from home. She hid there while things collected dust and fell apart. The only thing she kept in check was the Chinese Lion, the guardian Shen-Li. Even now he "slept" noiselessly save for the gentle hum of his power supply. The creatures she had offered for sale were long since gone or placed into stasis capsules and stored.

"Be reasonable, madam," Edmund groaned and shook his head. "There's nothing left of G-Corp, and even if Gambino rises again for the millionth time you know as well as I do he's destined to fail. He burns out quickly, leaving only destruction and that's not what you want anymore. The Gambino family no longer has anything worth offering your loyalty for."

"There's no one to be loyal to anymore, Edmund, no one but ourselves and our own ambitions," she looked up at him and ran her fingers through her hair.

For an inner instant Edmund looked at her as a woman and not a pawn of Johnny K. Gambino. He blinked and again it was swallowed and gone and he saw an individual with tremendous, unhoned ability. Such a person could be of benefit to the rest of Gaia, perhaps even to Durem alone.

"Everything is stagnant," Edmund continued, staring at the kettle as tendrils of steam wafted from the spout of the kettle. "There've been invasions of ridiculous proportions but society is desensitized by it, it's a game and they're even finding ways to profit from that," he ventured a laugh. "I think it's rather commendable, actually. They're willing to adapt."

"And you're saying I'm not," Syrcaid nodded at him slowly, folding her arms and boring holes into him with her odd-eyed gaze. "Either you're desperate and need my help despite how quiet you've claimed it's been around here or you want some kind of closure from me. You want me to declare my loyalty to 'the greater good' so you won't have to worry about me doing something else that'd put more people in danger since Gaia's population continues to boom."

This wasn't the first time he'd tried to talk sense into her. This was perhaps the seventh visit in their lifetime that they've talked like this, person to person. Every time it was getting more and more difficult to keep it on a business level, every time he wanted to resort to a shouting match but he knew that's what she wanted. When someone came into her turf, it was no holds barred. She practically dared him to strike first every single time.

And yet she was making them tea. He laughed softly through his nose at the thought.

"I'm not here to enslave you to society," Edmund confessed. "I'm here to ask for your help but only if you're willing to give it. There's only so much a handful of shop owners can do when trouble raises its head again. You've had inside experience and you know trouble when you see it."

"You're right, I'm preparing black tea for him," she smirked. "Sit down, for god's sake, Edmund. That tea kettle isn't going to get up and walk away."

"I never can tell with you," he nodded and removed his work coat to sit down.