listen to our stories...this could be our last chance...

But that’s a pit of self-deprecation to fall into another day. Hikaru blinks at his screen. Next time they meet, whenever they hang out on the rooftop, he won’t overthink himself into a puddle of timidity. And hopefully, by then, his mood won’t be so dull. 

With a softly exhaled sigh, Hikaru scrolls up and down the chat log. Eeshika sure is nice. If only he could offer her an ounce of the same honesty. 

[DM] @h1karu >@xkeaishe

@h1karu: i understand, no worries @h1karu: actually, my impression of you is totally of a hero  @h1karu: that was the first time someone rescued my groceries… 

He feels it, that downtrodden tug of exhaustion. It’s seeping through his messages, though he hopes she doesn't mind, even if she notices.

@h1karu: yup! i’m gonna try it out for a while… apparently, it fixes your dopamine receptors. hmm. something like that. @h1karu: i’ve never actually clicked on those self-help videos. but they usually say something like that in the titles, lol.  @h1karu: do you know which ones i’m talking about? for some reason they’re always recommended to me 😅

While Hikaru had only intended to get her number—it’s still bizarre (to him) that he scrounged up the courage to ask—he finds himself lost in the distraction of conversation. He drops from his couch to the carpeted floor like a slinky, leaning against the small cushion that falls alongside him. 

@h1karu: i will! 🫡 @h1karu: by the way, do you think we were actually neighbors at one point? maybe, right?  @h1karu: i think it’s been… five years for me? i mean, five years living here 

He blinks at his screen for a moment, then at the ceiling. Food? All of the sudden? With a small huff of laughter, Hikaru thumbs over the keyboard.

Was it wrong of her to have a concern over him? No. Eeshika doesn't allow herself to question that feeling. She hopes it reads off that he knew she was coming from a good place. Coming from a place of care and something far deeper that she wasn't fully ready to acknowledge. Even with the bubbles slowly forming up.

Before she knew it, talking with Hikaru felt easy. Comfortable. She sat back in her seat, shoulders back and far more relaxed than she'd been in a while. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't bracing herself for the notification. okay there was a little excitement each time his name lit up on her screen, yet still she was looking forward to seeing where each new conversation would wander.

[DM] @xkeaishe > @h1karu

@xkeaishe: I'd hardly qualify myself a hero [deleted] @xkeaishe: That is actually rather sweet of you to say... @xkeaishe: Though I think the word hero is more reserved for the greats like Olympia or Stitch. @xkeaishe: But I'll save your groceries each and every time. The least my bubbles can do.

Her....being called a hero? She can feel the heat rise in her cheeks quickly shaking her head to dismiss it. Hikaru was just being kind, that was all. Her being a kind person hardly warranted her being called a hero. Maybe it was even lazy of her to use her powers for as simple as carrying up groceries a few flight of stairs. It certainly wasn't something hero worthy at all. Her insecurity sits at the bottom of her stomach yet something about his comment helped lull that feeling.

@xkeaishe: Ahh, I have heard about that! OMG! THEY ARE ALWAYS IN MY RECOMMENDATIONS TOO!! @xkeaishe: Honestly don't have the patience to watch them. But the comment sections are pretty positive on them. @xkeaishe: Then I wish you the best of luck with your dopamine receptors reset. And in that regard a reset to the things that make you happy too Hikaru. ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

Something inside her swells thinking about the possibility of them actually being neighbors. How close the two of them could have been crossing paths in the everyday. If only. Maybe in another lifetime. Eeshika starts to think back, that apartment had been her only residence before AxieL, the only one she could barely afford on her student budgets. She starts calculating, flicking back to her calendar and calculator and wow....it really had been that long ago?

@xkeaishe: I think we just might have missed each other in the actually neighbors department. @xkeaishe: and trust me i would have noticed you. Or well you'd notice me with maybe a noise complaint or two. @xkeaishe: Five years hmm? Where were before here then? @xkeaishe: I moved there in 2009 and it was home sweet home until joining AxieL. But I kinda kept hold of the place, just in case things fell through. And well you know, I come back the odd occasion.

Her smile is soft at the screen tilting he head a little. Making the mental note on what he liked food wise, starting to well up ideas for what she could bring the next time they met. Just a little gesture with the possibility of making the rooftop into a little picnic. And even though she didn't get on with her parents, she had learned enough that it was rude to turn up anywhere empty handed.

"Work harder," she mutters to herself with a wry smile, shaking her head. "You sound like my mom." Her mothers had both changed with age, but it didn't erase a childhood of pressure. At least Flare wasn't being all that serious; Reverie took it as a tease. And her coworker's laughter sometimes felt like a rare thing, even if it was teasing laughter. In fact, Reverie couldn't help but rapidly grin in response, her own attitude cooling into something calm. There was always a bit of hot-blood in her after a fight, however fictional the stakes were. She always like to take risks, poking fun at her partners afterwards and maybe doing something stupid, like an extra flip in the air. Though there would be no more flips now, not after fixing her hair.

Reverie giggled to herself as she tapped a few times more on her phone. "... half Hawaiian style... got it. Done." The phone chimed with an 'Order Sent' notification and Reverie sighed as she stretched out her sore arms. "So, not much longer until the next mission. Though I'm pretty sure most of our opponents are gonna be a bit bigger and brawnier than the two of us," Reverie pointed out, her tone now conversational instead of humorous. She headed towards one of the chairs to rest her legs. "How are you feeling for it?"

Mentions of Parental Death.

His non‑permuted mom married a permuted man that rushed headfirst into danger as a profession and raised three permuted sons who spent half their childhood trying to see who could get away with using their abilities on each other without getting caught. She was the one who kept all of them in line: no powers, no enhancements. Just an iron will and a wooden spoon she never actually had to use.

If he can pretend for twenty-five years that he didn't shift the gravity under his brother's feet and send him flying down the stairs, he can handle a conversation with a longer than necessary pause.

Gravitas shrugs, unrepentant. “You can be sorry and still do what you need to.”

Internally, Antwan notes the irony. She has no idea how literal that statement is for him. She has no idea how many lines he’s crossed, how many compromises he's made to get here. No idea how many more he plans to.

“Not looking for a warm welcome,” he says simply. “Just an introduction. If I wanted a warm welcome, I would have stayed in the rec room.”

He lets the insult pass through him like air. He’s more focused on watching her reactions: she’s quick to judge and quicker to be dismissive -- however, she hasn’t walked away. She wants some kind of information? Some kind of leverage?

She’s not subtle, but she’s not stupid. Good to know.

“Right,” Gravitas replies, mildly. He's not sure if she's expecting him to bristle or defend himself, but he doesn't feel the need to. "Because they really broke the mold with the explosive ‘Flare’ and ran out of creativity for the rest of us.”

The hallway settled into an uneasy silence, the kind that stretched long enough that it was deafening. It was starting to feel less like conversation between the two of them and more like playing a game of poker without cards. Ever glance was an attempt to call a bluff. Every pause was another bet on the table. At the same time, it was a standoff, two people rooted where they stood, Flare reluctant to trust Gravitas and perhaps he the same. Neither one was ready to surrender. Maybe for the sheer satisfaction of seeing the other fold.

Not that Flare was one much for games. It more intrigued her that he was actually playing along.

"Don't think sorry is in my vocabulary bud," she shrugs only ever being honest.

Nodding, Flare kept her gazed fixed on him. So it was an introduction that he was looking for huh? Part of that put her on edge, trying to work out the motive. "Introduction huh? Well you got one now right?" Again brushing it off like nothing. Of course, everyone wants to meet her. Stupid not too. But all she could see was another ass she would be carrying around on missions.

"What you not a fan of all the bells and whistles that they roller out for ya?" There was a slight interest in knowing his views. She had a bittersweet regard to the stardom that came with her Valerian contract. Most days she loathed it. But again money talks, when this was a way she was making her living.

He was certainly confident, she'd give him that. Though confidence and stupidity walked hand in hand for most. Most couldn't tell the difference. Not her though. She knows she is the exception.

Still she doesn't shift to leave or move an inch. Not that escape was a sign of weakness. Her eyebrows rose even so slightly as he comments on her name. He had guys. Or no, survival instinct. It was hard to tell where confidence ended and idiocy began Still, part of it felt like he wasn't putting on an act for her. Part of her could respect that. Even if she hadn't decided whether to feel threatened or impressed.

Does he not seem enthusiastic or gracious enough that she would try to reach back to include him in this moment?

This is why Yiming doesn’t like talking to people. It’s always a guessing game of knowing they want something from him and trying to figure out what it is.

He can fix this. Maybe he can fix this?

He clears his throat.

“I’m not agreeing with you,” he says, hoping this is clearer and closer to what she’s looking for. “I’m just saying what’s true.”

To his relief, she finally reaches out for the bag, but then she freezes. There’s nothing wrong with the bag, is there? He’s just about to take it back to examine it when she finally reaches out to grab it.

He brushes his slightly sweaty palms against the thigh of his pants, smiling absently at the mention of his sous chef. Wenhao does that to him.

“No need,” he replies, trying to make sure his tone carries enough fond exasperation to indicate that he’s joking. “He tried several while I was distracted. But I hope they're to your liking.”

Wenhao also tried to feed some to Yiming despite the fact that he doesn’t particularly like sweets. Of course he’d accepted them, and despite the overly sweet taste the memory evokes, it still makes him feel a little warmer in this interaction. His nephew’s kindness is so uncomplicated and instinctive that it spills into Yiming’s chest without permission.

Yiming feels like he has the shape of what’s happening here -- maybe not the details or whatever history is at play -- but he has an outline. An attempt at connection, or community, and not wanting to be alone in something. He can offer that much.

He thinks of Wenhao again, how his nephew reaches out when someone looks said, offering whatever he has in his hands. A toy. A half-eaten cookie.

Something small enough to share.

Maybe that’s all he can do here too.

Yiming reaches into the front pocket of his messenger bag where he keeps a small packet of tissues because Wenhao may be a perfect child, but even perfect children are somehow always covered in snot. He does not especially like touching people, but he presses the tissue into her free hand so he doesn’t have to stand there holding them while she decides if she’s going to take them or not.

The hallway settled into an uneasy silence, the kind that stretched long enough that it was deafening. It was starting to feel less like conversation between the two of them and more like playing a game of poker without cards. Ever glance was an attempt to call a bluff. Every pause was another bet on the table. At the same time, it was a standoff, two people rooted where they stood, Flare reluctant to trust Gravitas and perhaps he the same. Neither one was ready to surrender. Maybe for the sheer satisfaction of seeing the other fold.

Not that Flare was one much for games. It more intrigued her that he was actually playing along.

"Don't think sorry is in my vocabulary bud," she shrugs only ever being honest.

Nodding, Flare kept her gazed fixed on him. So it was an introduction that he was looking for huh? Part of that put her on edge, trying to work out the motive. "Introduction huh? Well you got one now right?" Again brushing it off like nothing. Of course, everyone wants to meet her. Stupid not too. But all she could see was another ass she would be carrying around on missions.

"What you not a fan of all the bells and whistles that they roller out for ya?" There was a slight interest in knowing his views. She had a bittersweet regard to the stardom that came with her Valerian contract. Most days she loathed it. But again money talks, when this was a way she was making her living.

He was certainly confident, she'd give him that. Though confidence and stupidity walked hand in hand for most. Most couldn't tell the difference. Not her though. She knows she is the exception.

Still she doesn't shift to leave or move an inch. Not that escape was a sign of weakness. Her eyebrows rose even so slightly as he comments on her name. He had guys. Or no, survival instinct. It was hard to tell where confidence ended and idiocy began Still, part of it felt like he wasn't putting on an act for her. Part of her could respect that. Even if she hadn't decided whether to feel threatened or impressed.

It is admittedly reflexive, but it’s also still unfair. He thinks after putting up with everyone so far, he’s earned a moment to be a bit unfair, even if only in the privacy of his own head. Silver Meridian stands there, the legacy heir, crowned and polished by generations, protected by corporate favoritism and public adoration.

His stomach tightens under his suit thinking about the way his father’s legacy was buried under corporate retaliation while the Silver line flourished celebrated and untouched.

He knows none of it is directly Silver Meridian’s fault and that Antwan’s own resentment is misdirected.

It doesn’t change anything about the old and sour bitter feeling in his gut -- that silver helmet, a symbol of everything his family has lost.

Unlike in the other situations he has been in so far, he finds it harder to slip into the warm and gracious Gravitas persona no matter how hard he tries to put it aside.

Grateful that his helmet hides his expression, Gravitas tilts his head in an exaggerated show of confusion, before cupping a hand to the side of his helmet and leaning closer.

“Sorry, what?” he says through the external speakers of his helmet.

He tilts his whole head toward Silver Meridian’s extended hand to indicate the direction he’s looking in. “You want a turn at the table?”

The joke leaves his mouth before he can stop it, but Antwan realizes quickly that it might land badly. His tone is all wrong for his easy, breezy, beautiful Gravitas persona. He waits for a beat, forcing a smile so that it will turn up in his tone.

“Ha, sorry,” he says huffing a warm, easy laugh. “Just a little joke. I’m sure you hear it all the time, but I wish I could see your face.” He spies the actual DJ coming over. “Anyway.”

He slides smoothly out of the booth as the actual DJ returns. Gravitas steps aside, giving them space, then fully turns to give Silver Meridian his full attention.

He takes the offered hand, clasping it in both of his for a brief but warm handshake.

“It’s good to meet you properly, Silver Meridian,” Gravitas says, voice pitched loud enough to be heard but low enough to feel intimate despite the noise. “I’ve heard a lot about your work. You’ve been doing New Everwick proud for a long time.”

He gestures toward a quieter corner of the rec room where a velvet sitting area rests in a small alcove with a view of the city through floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Walk with me? I’d love to actually talk without have to amp this things volume up over the speakers.”

He leads the way, weaving through clusters of executives and stewards who are far too comfortable in the opulence around them. Gravitas may move like he belongs here but Antwan’s stomach is still twisted up at every champagne tower and sponsorship logo.

Once they reach the quieter edge of the room, Gravitas turns to face him, posture loose and open.

“I just wanted to say that I’m excited to work with you, man,” he says, threading as much sincerity as he can into the simple statement. It’s harder than it normally is. “Joining the Manhattan branch has been,” he looks around the room, “certainly a lot. Hard to get your bearings at. How have you found it? Working with Valerian, I mean.”

"What? Good heavens, no!" Silver Meridian exclaims loudly, maybe a little too loudly as he get a few looks over the other stewards and working cohort of Valerian. He clears his throat, rather glad that he was wearing his helmet to hide his flustered disposition.

A panic sinks in him when the newest A Rank offered him a chance to use the DJing equipment. Had Gravitas' helmet obscured his hearing? What was the thing even made of? Weren't they supposed to have all the fancy technology these days? Lightweight materials, sound going through, doing all the...scienency stuff.

Cassius didn't have a clue.

Maybe a time, people had attempted to explain things to him before. Apparently his powers involved quantum....something? Rifts? Particles? Physics? Or maybe it was something like atoms? There had even included diagrams and visuals for him once. And the equations, of the blasted equations that he was forced to study as a child but he cheated grabbing the answers. Not that he was ever called up on it or that it really helped his understanding, one gaze at them and somehow had left him with even less understanding than he'd started with.

All Cassius knew was this: look at a place, lay down his anchor point, connect it in his head for the location and poof, a flash of silver and he was standing there. That was enough for him. Whatever happened in the middle didn't really matter to him.

Maybe Silver Meridian should offer his technology fashion crew to him, as an act of kindness or sorts. Yes, yes that would be the gentlemanly thing to do for sure. What a splendid idea idea, Cassius. As he was about to open his mouth to humbly offer the details, he deflates a little, as Gravitas declares it a good joke.

Something about the words wish I could see your face, urk him more than he should. Trivial really when he didn't know the gravitas of his situation. Of course he could not. Yet the helmet envy weighs in him deeper.

Silver looks up to meet his gaze in the new steward's helmet. He points at him letting out a dry laugh,"Haha, how jovial of you there. You almost got me there. Seems like we have a jokester among us." He lowers his voice a little,"And between you and I, we need a slight comic relief among the A Ranks." A self-conscious comment that the doesn't realise that he is making.

As the two shakes hands, his hands are firm, confident and warm. His father had taught him a lot could be told about a person from the way they shook hands with another. And from it, he was slightly more impressed than he wanted to be.

Clearing his throat trying to stay humble. "What can I say, it is all in a days work to play my part as an A Rank Steward." It did not sound humble at all.

Nodding, he accepts the offer to walk along side Gravitas, apart of him wanted to offer a taste of his teleportation. Yet, he'd save that for a special occasion. Silver allows Gravitas to lead the way, for now, as it wouldn't be that way if the two were on missions. New Everwick missions were a beast compared too where he may have been from, and there was a lot more to hang on the line. He'd take it upon himself to be a role model of Valerian Values.

Silver stands next to him, looking down at him, the couple inches that he has on the man. He beams, as his ego is being stroked, "How awfully kind of you there, Gravitas, " he thanks him. "Well, I look forward to having the opportunity to work along side you. That is if we ever cross paths upon missions."

Crossing his arms over his chest,"Yes the Manhattan branch can certainly be an adjustment for most. Though it is a matter of collaboration and some rather tedious meetings, between you and I." He attempts to joke with him again, feeling that this is what people in less formal situations seemed to do. Even though each moment, as Stewards, and out, they were always on the clock.

"Working for Valerian?" he repeats the question,"Considering I've been here since I was nineteen, it has been nothing but a privilege and honor. Though I am aware that my circumstance is a little different from most, due to being a legacy steward and all. There are still hardships we all bare, but we are here because of the responsibility and how we are able to help."

He smiles a little wilder, knowing this answer would make Silver Thorn, his father, maybe the slightest bit proud. Okay not proud...maybe an nod of approval.

Just from the little he glimpsed, Antwan can tell she hates all of this spectacle and thinks this party is bullshit. A sentiment he proudly supports. He mentally agrees with every “fuck this” she’s probably muttering.

But Gravitas still has a job to do.

He’s already mapped most of the building’s floor plan into his head, so it’s easy to predict where Flare will pass through on her way out. He ducks through a side door and directly into the hallway just as she barrels toward it.

Perfect timing.

“Hey,” Gravitas calls out, lifting a hand in greeting.

“Flare, right? Sorry to bother you,” he continues, “Didn’t think I’d actually manage to catch up to you.”

He definitely knew he would, but she does explosion manipulation not telepathy.

He keeps the conversation simple and direct, assuming that she won’t appreciate anything about this interaction other than a straightforward introduction. Maybe not even that. “I saw you step out and wanted to make sure I introduced myself. Gravitas.”

He gives her space to keep walking if she wants; he’s not blocking her path or demanding an abundance of her attention. He doesn’t offer his hand to shake because if even half of what he’s heard about her, she’d just use it to try to flip him over her shoulder.

Flare flashes back to her welcome part to Valerian, if you could even call it there. Faces now removed from the hollowed halls, replaced by the one's who were barely even worthy to stand in those legacy spots. The words of doubt echoing in back of her mind: to how she needed to fix herself up, be kinder, be sweeter to rise the ranks. Words like that still echo loudly today. All of that was just noise. A drive to prove every doubting fucker that she deserved her place at the top. Oh how she fucking proved them, raising the ranks so quickly to have her standing on the top.

And now, what blowing budgets for every Tom, Dick and Harry that came through the fucking door. How the bar felt so fucking low, from Blaze joining the ranks to who ever this new helmet ass wearing steward was. Whatever the fuck their name was, were they really that fucking worthy to be walking in the same vicinity as her.

Call it bitterness all you want. Flare calls it truth.

Why waste the time celebrating someone who hasn't achieved anything apart from walking through the door? She had better things to be doing like analysing her last mission tapes, not faking pleasantries. She didn't owe anyone shit.

She pauses when she hears her name called. Flare turns locking onto her new subordinate. They'd gone out of their way to search for her? Damn, they were a fucking kiss ass or what?

She clicks her tongue, crossing her arms as she gives them the once over. His helmet was still on, wise, best way to conceal anything as the face was always a head give way. This one was gonna be harder to read. Only their voice would be a give away.

"Yeah," Flare answers to her name not giving him anything else. Of course he'd know who she was, you'd be an idiot not too. Still, she doesn't give him much, people had to earn that privilege.

She keeps the pauses in the conversation as long as she could. The pauses that showed her dominance and control. She doesn't reach a hand, she doesn't come closer. Flare only stays silent. "If you were sorry, you wouldn't have bothered me in the first place."

She clicks her tongue, "Look if you want a warm welcome, you're barking up the wrong tree. That's more a C Ranks needy ass approach." Indirectly, insulting him as this was clearly what he wanted, one on one attention from her. Who could blame him.

Still, she doesn't walk away. Knowledge was power after all. If she could get what she needed from one conversation would mean she wouldn't need to engage with one another. "Gravitas?" she repeats the name, that she totally pronounced wrong in her head when getting the invite. "Let me guess, some permutation with gravity? Fucking ground breaking. Or law defying."

En just shrugged. Ze had long since gotten used to the circus that was hir crew. Sure, the old fellas would probably give hir a bit of stick later, but that was nothing new. En had survived way worse, especially when it came to Lennie's relentless nosing into hir business and Tien's habit of fussing over hir like an overprotective mum.

Unlike the rest of hir siblings minus Topman, who always seemed way too invested in figuring out who fancied who or who was sneaking off with whom, En was perfectly content doing hir own thing. Give hir a client's motorcycle to tinker with, a decent playlist, and a quiet afternoon, and ze was good. Maybe one day ze'd finally get hir dream bike and find somebody who loved open roads and getting lost on purpose as much as ze did. But if that never happened?

Eh. Life would still roll on.

"Yeah, mi nuh really mind dem gone," En said with a lazy shrug. "Now mi can actually tek a quiet walk an'... y'know, enjoy nature or somethin'." Ze chuckled at how strange that sounded coming out of hir own mouth. En shook Sabryna's hand back. Ze knew full well somebody in the group had probably spotted it too. Rumours travelled faster than motorcycles around those people. Whatever.

"Dey probably gonna want a story when wi get back," ze said. "But mi nah storyteller. Besides, if dem really want one, dem more likely wonderin' who yuh are. Though yuh nuh haffi tell anybody nuttin'. Wi could just tell dem yuh an ex-Olympic champion or somethin'." En took a swig from hir water bottle. "Or maybe a kindergarten teacher. Dat one might like dem even more." A grin tugged at the corner of hir mouth as they continued down the trail.

"So yuh say yuh born an' raise in Arden, right?" En asked as the path started winding into the trees. "It always this chill 'round here?" The woods swallowed up some of the sounds from town, leaving only birdsong and the rustle of leaves overhead. It was peaceful, maybe a little too peaceful. En glanced around.

She nods along, understanding that sometimes that you just needed that time away from people that were in your everyday. "Well that would be the main reason, if not only reason to go hiking, right?" She says at the two shake hands and she walks by En's side. After all the nature in Arden was something worth seeing.

ex-Olympic champion or somethin.

She pauses at that single comment causing her to halt as her brows knit together,"Are you messing with me?"

For a moment, Sabryna simple states, almost as if a nerve had been hit. No. It wasn't quiet like that more like a surprise. As that was either one hell of a shot in the dark or she was being mocked. Sure, her career wasn't exactly hidden. Anyone could search it up online knowing her name and the news articles and videos would appear. Still, she chews on the inside of her cheek as she debates whether to just have out with it. After all, she did say that the could be good practice for Super♡Hearts. Then admitting it to En could be an easier first step.

A nervous laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "Well...technically not an ex-Olympian as that would meant that I actually qualified," she clasps her hands tightly behind her back, giving them a tight squeeze to keep herself composed," Technically it would an almost Olympian if anything." Sabryna forces a smile as she says it lightly but the words carry more weight to her than intended,"Which is far closer to the truth, so it wouldn't really be a lie or sorts. Much closer than being a kindergarten teacher, anyway. Though I do coach on the side."

Maybe it was just a very lucky guess. Or maybe fate had the strangest and cruelest sense of humour.

He braces his forehead against a hand, sitting still for a long while. Why on earth is she clarifying that she’s single? Has Hikaru—has he given some kind of strange impression? Have his feelings been so confounding and hidden to him, but obvious to her? 

This is exactly why he’s never been on a third date. He never understands the situation when it’s happening—only afterwards. Only this time, it’s not afterwards yet! He has to put up with his own cluelessness as he rereads her unfinished text over and over again until he decides, finally, to ignore it altogether. 

[DM] @h1karu >@xkeaishe

@h1karu: oh, okay hahaha

Should he tell her that he knows Anna? Should he ask for the story? Hikaru bites down on a fingernail. No, no. He’s already chosen to ignore it, and she just confirmed that she overshared. Perhaps it's not his place to ask about headlines. He's recently experienced first hand how shamelessly misleading they are, anyway. She must be sick of explaining herself.

@h1karu: everything’s cool, yup! 😊 @h1karu: just trying to cut down my screentime ahaha 

He squints at his screen after slowly typing out that unbelievably cringy lie. With a grimace, he blinks and forces himself to move on from it before he starts feeling foolish and guilty.

When Eeshika glances up from her phone, she realises that the rest of the group had already called five, which was their not-so-subtle way of saying that they were calling it a day. Without even thinking twice, she couldn't hide the smile spreading across her fact. Offering them a quick wave goodbye, already halfway out the door before she is roped into another conversation. She knew exactly where she was going somewhere quiet, somewhere she wouldn't be interrupted. Just her, her phone and Hikaru.

They didn't talk all that often but that only made these brief windows together matter more. In the moments that they did, Eeshika wants go give him her complete attention, as it was the least she could do. And if she was being honest with herself, she wanted too. That particular warmth bubbles up inside her again. She reads his reply and bites down her lip, as there are far to many ha as there was nothing of noteworthy of funny.

A red flush of embarrassment comes over her, scrolling up reading exactly what she had sent him. The panic seeping in Why?! Why did she say that? Like seriously....why did he have to know that? When another voice in her head whispers. Oh you know exactly why.... she chews down on her lip. Denying a little bit. She takes a breath and this time texts a little bit calmer.

[DM] @xkeaishe > @h1karu

@xkeaishe: Sorry I said that in a bit of a frazzle. @xkeaishe : Just a lot of stuff in the media that's untrue. And I just don't want that to be the impression that you have of me. You know? @xkeaishe : You're just easy to talk too. @xkeaishe :And I think for the first time in a long time, someone that I can just be honest with.

@xkeaishe : You're using a lot of hahas Hikaru...are you sure everything is okay? @xkeaishe : You sure? @xkeaishe : Cause if you ever want to talk. Please know I'm here! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) @xkeaishe : Ahhh I see, that's a pretty healthy choice I applaud you for that!

The fact that Hikaru was still on about Operation: Racoon, makes something in her chest flutter. She quickly asks him.

@xkeaishe : Thank you for still thinking about that. But no rush okay? Good things are always worth the wait @xkeaishe : You'll still keep me company there, right?

. Part of it is longs to see him again, even if the two of them sat in silence.

Part of it is from longing to see him again, even if it meant that the two of them sat in silence. Part of it comes from anxiety that wells inside her. Part of it was selfish because she wants to know Hikaru would stay. Not many people did stay. Or maybe...maybe she was being a little too pushy.

@xkeaishe : Like would you say you're more a sweet or savory person? @xkeaishe : It is important! I must know for science (╭ರ_•́)

Even if she is more than aware that her grudge on Eeshika Kaylan is unjustified, thanks to long talks with her therapists. She is more than aware that she is placing all the blame of her permutation manifesting during Astronomical Boys & Girls on her, even when logically it doesn’t make any sense. Emotions don’t have to make sense though, and she doesn’t want to bother on working through her resentment as long as Bubblegum doesn’t push the boundaries of the role she has been crammed into by Magarian. Is it unfair? Yes, but Harper is dissatisfied at her lack of rebellion she sees from her, even knowing the weight on her shoulders. None of the members of AxiaL will reach their full potential if they keep allowing Magarian to push them into molds, and it’s frustrating to see that if she hadn’t had her harpy transformation manifest when it did, she could have possibly been in their shoes.

“Fuck it,” she mutters under her breath and begins walking again towards the door, going through the door to Newpoint Vistas, showing her ID at the door and going in with a languid pace. She might not have all the time of the world, but she doesn’t want to show any sort of rush when reaching Eeshika’s door. It’s already unbelievable enough that she is paying a visit to her unprompted, no need to confuse her further by making it seem like she was in a rush to get to her. 

She had been, of course, but it was more because the faster she gave Eeshika the gift basket, the faster she would get to go home and pretend that the day had not happened at all… At least for tonight. She will have to deal with it again tomorrow, but that is her problem for then. 

Reaching Eeshika’s door, she raps the door twice, and waits a few seconds before calling out. 

Peace....Eeshika could finally have some peace. Maybe a bubble bath where she can hide out the noise of her own thoughts. Baggy clothes and some chai. Maybe even take a moment or two to prep some thank you notes to those who were kind enough to give her gifts. It was the least that she could. Being grateful, even if it was for a situation that she doesn't want to be.

And then she pauses.

Hearing her last name called makes her flinch. It wasn't a name she hardly answered to these days as it was almost exclusively reserved for hospital waiting rooms or signings or official documents. She had grown so use to answering to her steward name and accustomed to her nicknames. In the years, she had grown distant from the family it belonged too, and with that distance came the habit of forgetting it was hers aw well. As there is hope to one day that last name would be changed.

So it took her a moment to release that the person was calling for her. Which again makes her pause, who on earth would be calling her so impersonally? Who would have such a disconnect from calling her by any other of her chosen names? She listens out, and it is when they sigh, she knows exactly who it is. "H-Harper?" Eeshika whispers to herself on the other side of the door, taken back that the AxieL Ghostwriter was actually making a visit to her place unprompted.

Maybe it was Eeshika's own imagination but she could have sworn that there were days that Harper...it wasn't hated her more like didn't get on with Eeshika. Sure it could just be all in her head, with the way that she would push her harder during vocal runs, making her repeat sections harder than the other AxieL members. There were other times that she couldn't help but feel like something was just a little bit off. Others had reassured her that it was all in her head, and just maybe they were right.

It’s a thought that shocks her through the worry and adrenaline, that slows everything down. 

She cares about Silver Meridian, more than she can put into words. More than what she will allow herself to say out loud. She is not good enough for those words to be received gladly, she knows. Just a silly little sidekick of Valerian’s. The world within her apartment isn’t all there is, there is another world entirely beyond her four walls, and in that world? In that world what they have cannot be real, not yet. Not until Valerian believes in her, not until they believe she won’t bring Cassius down for existing. 

Reality settles, and her chest tightens as it does, eyes falling away from his figure as for a moment it is too painful to look at him knowing the reality of it all. Instead, she looks around, trying to identify the source of the noise, to make sure the danger is not a threat they cannot handle. 

In the end, that momentary flinch serves her well, though, as her eyes fall on her screen and stay there for a long second. Looks like Wile E. Coyote had tried to shoot the roadrunner— Oh. 

A loud snort leaves her lips and all the tension leaves her frame. Gesturing towards the TV, she smiles fondly, reaching forward to wrap her hand around the wrist stuck in front of her protectively and pulling it down slowly. 

“I am fine, don’t worry,” she says, amusement growing as she realizes how silly the situation is. “I think we were so—,” she coughs, cheeks heating as her eyes flicker away from Sil’s once more before returning as she tries to keep her composure. “Distracted, that we forgot the TV was on,” she says, pointing towards it with her chin. 

It says something of how deeply the two of them had been wrapped on each other that they hadn’t noticed the new show begin. Something important, but that she cannot point out just yet. Not right after the chilling realization that every day that passes the world begins to press more against the walls of their little refuse. Sooner rather than later, she thinks the visits will stop. Life will pick up, and of all the things Silver Meridian has in her schedule, she is likely the easiest to cut out right now. In order to avoid that, in order to make sure he stays by her side without regret, she needs to get better.

He could feel his heart hammer heavy against his ribs. How strange a place it was for him and find to himself in, how easily it was him to slip into protector mode without the mask or uniform on. He had no Silver Meridian to hide behind. Just Cassius. Yet there he stood between Sarah and danger without a second thought. No matter what. That certainty struck him harder than the fear even could.

Though...what was this feeling? He could feel it in his chest, unfamiliar enough to unsettle him. Protecting people is in their nature, partly that he was an a rank hero, partly because it was his duty. It was an easy choice for him to put himself in harms way to protect other. But this...this was different. Something about the thought of that twists inside him as this feeling was something was far more personal. It was like a blurring between the too and it was only a side that Sarah would ever get to witness.

He knows that there is something there but he was scared to put a name to it. There was care but there was something greater that lingered as he looked over his shoulder to meet her warm eyes. As he softly follows her gaze, as in times like these she would be the one who would be the expert on the perimeters of the apartment even though he was finding himself more acquainted to them slowly.

And then a hot flush over comes him making him drop his guard as the looney toons that he never had the luxury of watching as a child but know about in passing was playing on the tv. Sarah laughs and he can't help but chuckle silently too only as a means to hide his own embarrassment.

This isn’t from a lack of effort on his end. Blessed with a naturally social, outgoing personality, Dakota makes friends everywhere he goes. Bonds with nearly anyone he meets. Friends used to joke that he could sell water to a speedboat and temples to a non-believer. He could convince almost anyone of anything if he just sounded legitimate enough. Maybe he could have been a politician in another life. Or an actor. Which he technically was — Blaze was an amped up, more corporate version of himself.

He’d never struggled socially before joining Valerian. Though he was initially confused by the reserved nature of most stewards, he now understands that most prefer not to be known. Or they only want to be known in specific contexts, and have their own private, independent lives once they exit the building. So he’s practically given up on gaining closeness, and now sees them as coworkers. Coworkers who may or may not give him advice or support in time of need.

So imagine his shock when he sees Silver, unguarded, simply existing as Dakota is. He isn’t quite sure how to respond to this. Almost rolls his eyes to hear a corny dad joke. Wonders who the other man truly is when the cameras aren't rolling, but is starting to understand that he just never will.

Silver, to his credit, is one of the only a-tier stewards who isn't outwardly dismissive or cold. Dakota can at least appreciate that. Phoenix, Flare and a couple others have made it transparent that he's unwelcomed. The only kindred spirits have been Slapstick, who seems genuinely kind to everyone, and Keegan.

Blaze was much younger than Cassius himself. Cassius had seen the boy's social media name "King Blaze". A little presumptions with no shortage of confidence. Not that he truly had room to judge, now did he. His own legacy name Silver had been carefully curated to project humility even as it carried generational prestige. The irony was not lost on him. For how easily his legacy name could have been Golden. That thought alone makes his skin crawl, Golden Meridian son to Golden Thorn and Golden Bloom, perhaps it worked on some levels, but the weight in gold was higher than silver. Metaphorically that was.

Yet, he was aware that confidence was a necessity when working among the greats, it was a way to make sure that one was seen, goodness even heard. Silver could not think of a single A Rank that didn't exuberate it when first joining the ranks, for it was a right of passage that many other's dismissed so easily. How foolish of them to forget their own roots, even him on other days. There was a fine line between confidence and cocky and each A Rank steward walked that line like a jump rope.

Blaze was no exemption and to see him late in the training rooms felt well rather fitting. He didn't need to guess why he was here. He knew why he was here. Pushing himself to the limit in fears to what others - being the A Ranks, media and fans - would think in a moment of falter. The times when the pressure would be too much and a slip up would approach.

After all, they were A Ranks, the heroes that people looked up too. With great power, comes great responsiblity. But at the end of the day, they were also human with skin and bone. A fact that Cassius did ignore. "You were working hard at it, weren't you?" he keeps his voice calm with a slight bit of warmth. "Pushing yourself that little bit harder? Or are you just a fan of the training room interior?"

Adhara took out her phone. Before putting in the food order, however, she pressed on the camera app and used it as a mirror. There were many unkempt strands on the top of her head, all that she patted down carefully, and then tucked others behind her ear to hide them. "This round is on me. On me? The girl that doesn't have the fancy new UnderArmour campaign?" Adhara, grinned, grabbed her towel from a nearby chair and gently tapped at the beads of sweat she saw on her reflection. "But, sure, say no more, anything for our modelng star," she teased wryly. It wasn't jealously more than it was simply using the only bit of ammo she had. It brought Adhara many a giggle to picture Flare posing at the camera, probably being told to do one or two sultry looks. However, when all was said and done, it wasn't a competition in the A-ranks - at least for Reverie. They made it to the top already, all they had to do was support each other.

Even her daring to say shut it in gest make Flare scowl at her, with a firm gaze. Such niceties were only reserved for those who were close to her. Spoiler alert. No one was close to her. Sangrienta barely scraped that threshold. She clicks her tongue against her cheek. "You know I would have if I wanted too." Was it a treat? Was it a promise? Or Flare being Flare. Most likely all three. For she doesn't miss. That was something she prides herself on. As much as many may observe that her powers come with a temper and hot-headedness, they could be far from it knowing the precision that her powers needed.

Training with Reverie was well, a means to an end. Sure there was a flicker of admiration for her Reverie's skill but everything else was mere formality with force proximity. Getting close,"You didn't say we we all know it was a lucky shot," her smirk smugger than before, knowing that it was rare for anyone to push back on her statements. People knew it was a death wish not to agree with her.

Circling around Reverie as she got out her phone adjusting their hair made Flare roll her eyes, because really? Now was not the fucking time to care how you looked after training. It mattered more about what you looked like in training, the competency, the accuracy, the perdition of it all. To look a mess after was just a badge of honor for all the hardwork, the literal blood, sweat and tears of it all. There was a time and place when needing to look good. Now was not one of them.

Now the photoshoot or public appearances now that was the time. Yet, even then she stood her ground to keep her style to be in her comfort zone. Her control. No way was someone else going to be tampering with her image. Especially if they went in the original direction that they had wanted Flare to go in.

Once again she clicks her tongue shrugging,"What can I fucking say, I'm just that fucking brilliant. Work harder and you just might get on that level." She laughs, but there was a cost being at that level, all the bullshit rumors, the cameras coming around. The double-edge sword that came with the glory. Flare went quiet, the rage about the rumours still bubbling her, the damn deals the she-devil had been hinting about. Fuck it. Now was not the time to be pissed about the same damn fucking thing. "Shut it Princess, you don't need to be so jealous."

His brain blanks with panic.

Oh, no. She's crying. I made her cry. Do I comfort her? No, she's smiling. Is this good? Is this bad?

Bizarrely, this reminds him of the time she'd dropped her badge in the stairwell and he'd picked it up, and then she'd insisted that he keep it because she didn't want him to feel bad for bending down first, and then he insisted she keep it because it was literally her badge. They'd apologized back and forth until the motion sensor lights turned off. She'd teared up and eventually he'd just given the badge to another member of AxiaL.

He shakes his head quickly, jostling the cellophane bag in his outstretched hands.

"Oh -- no, I mean, yes, but it wasn't -- it wasn't a big thing," he can hear himself stammering and tries to stop. "I just thought it would be nice? That's all."

He's never had to deal with people crying other than his sister, and he generally knows what she wants when she's crying: to tell her that he'll hold her purse while she beats up whoever made her cry.

Then she says: "I guess those bi flag colour cookies aren’t just for me, they’re for us.”

And it clicks.

He knows what she means, and it isn’t about him. It’s about her trying to anchor herself to something that feels shared.

He’s been out for years. His own coming out had been underwhelming: a livestream where he made a beat from fan suggestions and casually mentioned he was bi due to some offside chatter. A few media outlets accused him of doing it for attention, but the accusation fizzled almost immediately. His star wasn’t bright enough for anyone to care that much.

Nothing in his life changed. No fallout. No spotlight. No pressure.

So when she says us, she’s not saying it for me. She’s saying it for herself. She needs someone to stand next to her, even if it’s just over cookies.

He can see it in the way her shoulders loosen, the way her breath catches, and in the way she seems to cling to the idea like it’s a lifeline.

Yiming's breath catches. He swallows, nodding once carefully.

"Right," he agrees. "For us."

He shifts the bag in his hands, offering it more firmly. "But. Metaphorically. These are for you," he says. "I mean. They're also for us. But they're for you, if you want them."

He tries to make his voice softer. “I wanted you to have something,” he says. He gestures vaguely. “Just something nice.”

And then, because he can’t help himself:

Maybe...maybe she was being too much.

Actually, there was no maybe about it. Eeshika is being too much. As she could feel the tears welling up on her eyes again. Almost as if the water works were a common occurrence with every single conversation that she were to have. She wants it to stop. She doesn't want people to look at her...that way. As the silence cuts, as he tries to gidt her the homemade cookies.

And sure, the gesture is something that does get to her. Others might have took time to buy her gifts as a source of comfort or means of support. And she was sure a few were in a means of sorry, when the reality is, it is her who should be the one who is sorry...as her head spiral at the thought. But is the the fact that he took time out of his own day to bake her cookies the colours of the bisexual flag.

It was thoughtful. It was caring. It was...more than she deserved.

She just knows, that she doesn't want to be alone in this. Cling onto something to show it isn't...that it isn't all that bad at all. When he agrees, she nods graciously ,"Thank you for agreeing."

Eeshika notices that he hold out the cookies a little more firmer, with one hand she wipe her eyes and other she reaches. She opens her mouth to say his name but her mind draws a blank. Even...even down to their steward name, she could have sworn it was like a like a beloved before video game character. Oh what was it? It was something from Super Smash Bros. Goodness it was at the tip of tongue!

Wait..oh no she was being quiet for too long. Not the long awkward silence as they are already in. Finally, she takes the cookies into her other hand, smiling wildly,"Thank you for these in that case. I'll enjoy them with a chai latter. I'll let you and your sous chef know that they taste." Polite...even if she had forgot his name.

"No need to be sorry. You didn't startle me, promise!" Eeshika assures smiling brighter, "It's is I who is sorry, it's me who is getting a tad bit emotional. So again I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be springing this on to you."

A quiet guilt chipped away at her, making the apology weigh heavier than it should have. She wasn't only apologising for the fuss over the homemade cookies. The apology was meant for everything that had come before. For how her own careless decisions had becomes everyone else's conversation. For how a her accidental interactions had turned into headlines and headline to whispers and now the change of tone that sweeps through the corridor of Kardinal. Something in her hates the space she had taken up in other's everyday.

It's actually a coincidence that Anna has her phone on-hand and unmuted for a change. She usually keeps the notifications from AlterEgo turned off because, well, it's not her fault that people see her in public -- minding her business! -- gliding around New Everwick while shifted into her Moth Man variant and decide to post videos. She's been more careful to keep an eye on where her image pops up online between the thing with the Cleaner and the thing with Siren from AxiaL.

So it seemed the panic was starting to subside. Even in the wild, wild west of live stream comments, Eeshika is a little surprised that things were actually going well. Sure the flurry of questions and speculations don't seem to stop but they slowly die down for a little bit enough for her to express well wishes from the actually fans. Not just the shippers. Even Sunny had been the pinned comment, the noise seemed to die a little down about shipping.

There were still questions, obviously, but Eeshika had managed to get a tone to the stream, one that was going to make this even more plain sailing after the rocky start. Even though she could feel the aches in her cheeks from all the forced smiling that she needs to present. She could handle this. Siren could handle this. She had too as she was still on the clock. Only a few more hours then she would be allowed to end the steam and just let her walls fall down.

Clasping her hands together,"Oooh what was that? Some of you want to know about the next season of --" but her sentence cuts off from the alert sounds of a new top comment takes over from Sunny's. One from a BrooklynCryptid. And her doe eyes widen in alarm. Anna?! She purses her lips trying not to allow her expression to give away too much.

the thing is, riel would fully accept it if zaya turns around right here and refuses to engage with them altogether. a part of them would also accept it if zaya were to scream in their face, tell them exactly what she must think of them, but they know that they're both too much in the public eye for that to happen. riel wishes that they could be angry about it, rather than painfully accepting of it — they are frustrated, but it's not exactly at zaya. the frustration is their inability to explain to her why they had to leave, the grief that they very tangibly feel at the fact that they've lost someone that they felt like saw them for who they are. the uncertainty of it all.

riel misses her, at the end of the day.

Stepping forward wasn't omission of forgiveness.

Nor was is surrender.

It was fucking damage control. Forced proximity due to unfortunate circumstance because the moment the two stood together the hell gates of a media storm was ready to descend. God damn camera were already watching as their lenses hungry for any conversation in hopes to capture the moment the traitor and hot head interact hooking on to every fucking breath they took. One wrong move and they would be a headline with the uppers breathing down their necks. Fuck. That. Shit.

She is taken aback when they actually decide to come forward to meet her half way. Damn. Zaya had not expected that for someone who had an resume of walking away from everyone and everything that mattered. Damn, she was allowed to be in shock of that, yet her face it a stone wall, her expression locked down tighter than a vault.

And for the first time in a long time, her and Riel stood close. This closeness felt almost a life time ago, when they both stood back to back on their last mission together. The last mission before Riel walked away. And Riel apologies. Like those petty words meant a single fucking thing. Like they could erase years of hurt, years of a fallout that never resolved. A fucking apology, too late wasn't going to undo anything. All she can do was stare at them for a long moment, letting the silence stretch until it was uncomfortable.

She lets Riel talk. Let them pour out their excuse, pretending that they wanted to rebuild what they tore down. A dry laugh escapes her, out of the sheer audacity they had. Along with that came a painted smile, not for Riel but for the audience watching.

She steps closer leaning into their ear, using one hand to cover her mouth making it difficult for the recording to make out. "Go fuck yourself." Her words barely a whisper, as she pulls away keeping the smile on her face, genuine though she had a lot crueler things she wanted to let out. That would suffice for now.

Riel rambles on about places for them to have a meeting. A chance to discuss. Her tongue pushes on the inside of her cheek, arms folding over her chest. Zaya doesn't even warrant the first suggestion of a coffee shop with an answer. No matter how small or private a place would be, people would always find a way to make their conversation a headline.

And then she breaks out into laughter when they dare to suggest their office. Because that had to be a joke. Riel was fucking with her. Suggesting that she go to SOMA. Fucking good one. How fucking ridiculous could the traitor be?

"Like fuck would I step into traitor territory," her tone low with disgusts. She brushes past them, shoulders slamming into theirs with just enough force so they know it is not an accident. Or maybe it was a way for her to feel something. Zaya digresses.

"If you actually mean what you say then better if you step into my office." She paces a little forward before looking over her shoulder back to them. Although she didn't technically have an office, everyone knew that the training rooms were where Flare had all her important conversations. Not like Riel would dare. She knows they are a coward. But if Riel wasn't they'd come back to Valerian. Not as a punishment but as a reminder to everything that their judas-ass had betrayed.

Dakota was running himself completely ragged – no pun intended. He was currently at the point of collapse. Any further work would make him pass out for several hours while his body healed itself. When he agreed to take on more training to perfect a new method introduced by the higher ups, he arrogantly assumes it would go by without a hitch. But it took him several, very long days to meet the marks and hit the targets at a hundred percent accuracy. And now he was slumped against the wall, on his fourth bottle of gatorade, sweating profusely.

Never had he shown such blatant displays of physical fatigue. He knew his own limits and tried to stop himself before he reached then. The best part of his permutation? Seemingly endless energy that powered on for days on end. The worst part? Extreme exhaustion that settled in every time he let himself go into overdrive. He'd only ever passed out once, and was promptly lifted back to his residence without a hitch. This was never mentioned by anyone, and he almost wondered if he dreamt it. But no, the mandatory rest period made it very clear that he in fact did pass out.

He attempted to stand up, but his legs were like cement – rooted to the spot, clearly overused. Ten pings in a row sent straight to his Apple Watch made him cringe. Not only was he physically spent, but he did not at all feel like responding to texts from industry peers. At least nobody was around to witness this. Or so he thought.

Some may call it running away. Others would call it avoidance. Cassius preferred to call it mentally exercising the right to use his teleportation powers for personal problems. Granting himself permission since his own liberation and freedom were limited now with the poxy airing of super♡hearts and the blastered NDA which prevented him from disclosing to what Scotty had pitched to his team as a "grand reveal". Father had agreed too it long before Cassius would breath a word. Not long until now, Cassius and Silver Meridian would be wearing the same face.

Unmasked and unraveled with nothing to hide behind. In his heart of hearts, he knows that this is not apart of his legacy he was ready to embrace but this was how it was fated. He couldn't bring himself to face Sarah. The dark and honest confession on his lips, with the show and the reveal, one only know to her. He loathes it. But alas, he can not discuss it. Nor does he want too.

And heading home was simply not an option for the moment. Theora, his manager, was hailing up in home awaiting to talk about meetings. She was a woman of pure relent, another person on his avoidance list. And don't even get him started on his new headache Gravitas. The ego manic who had such a charm and shiny helmet that he still gets to wear and conceal his identity with...no he shall not give that Steward rent free space in his mind.

So with the avoidance he opted not to waste the moments and stayed at the place he thought as a second home. Valerian. The training rooms could be a holy ground to not waste potential. Or one of the seven layers of hell when the likes of Sangrienta or Flare entered the room, than in those particular cases it was a room of avoidance. Ahh avoidance, seems like Cassius was developing patterns.

As he entered, he had not expected to see a single soul in these late hours of the night. He assumed that outside Valerian, most co-workers had families and loved ones to return too. Not that he would ever ask out of respects of others privacy, didn't dismiss he surprise to see Blaze. And...he seemed to undone in comparisons to the other lights that he had seen the younger lad shine.

He seems startled in him being there. Taking a few steps in holding his hands up in peace, ushering them down encourage him to be at ease. "Relax," Silver tells him in a calm tone. "And I could say the same for you Blaze. Burning the midnight oil are we..." he glances down at his watch,"Or should I saw the 11pm oil."