darkSpyro

The Corvonian wasn't sure what Valdar was talking about, but he really didn't need to. All he knew was that the man obviously needed his comfort, and as his "brother", that was just what he intended to do. So Plagarius simply held his companion, embracing him the tiniest bit tighter than before, as if to reassure his fellow agent that he wasn't going to leave him any time soon. Patting him gently on the back, he cooed softly, "You needn't be. I'm not going anywhere."

I swallow and take a deep breath. Among friends and family, with their assurances I feel I may just be able to take the step. Still even now, I am afraid and everyone can see it, not only in my eyes but how I act. I still can't do it.

Plagarius just continued to hold his companion in his arms, the occasional dove-like coo reverberating in his chest and escaping him like the purr of a cat. The doctor honestly didn't mind just how long Valdar continued to hug him like this. As a Corvonian, an embrace that lasted this long wasn't unusual at all. Indeed, certain embraces in his society have been known to last much longer. So he was quite alright in just staying where he was, offering his friend whatever comfort he could for as long as Valdar needed it.

Still, there was the possibility that Zurgon might eat all of the stew if they didn't get their portions quickly enough. So while Plagarius could have stood there with his dearest comrade in his arms all night, he realized that it was probably better if they got their food before Zurgon couldn't restrain himself any longer. Even so, he didn't pull away, but instead merely suggested to Valdar, "Come now, why don't we get you something to eat? That may make you feel better."

I nod and let go of my friend, Plagarius, before sitting down again. The gentle cooing that he was making calms me. The stew does smell good, it would be a shame that we never got to have any of what Vuxta, made. Besides she did make it for all of us, and Zurgon even wants to share some with us.

With Valdar having relaxed - at least to the point of being willing to end the hug - Plagarius resumed where he had left off in getting his comrade something to eat. He was sure that Zurgon was simply dying to get his share of the stew Vuxta had made, so he didn't want to delay him any longer than necessary. The Corvonian scooped out some of the stew into a bowl, which he then set on the table in front of Valdar. He then took the opportunity to serve himself, getting a considerably smaller portion of the stew than he had gotten his companion, as the Corvonian did not require much to eat. After having gotten his food, he sat down at the table next to his "brother", moving out of the way of the pot of stew so the others could get their own share. Hopefully Zurgon had the restraint to allow Vuxta to get her share before he devoured whatever was left.

Thinking of their youngest companion immediately reminded Plagarius of something. Turning to address the reptilian alien, he said with an obvious curiosity and interest, "You never did have the chance to tell us about your day at the human educational institution. Come, why don't you tell us all about it? I'm sure you had a lot of fascinating experiences today!"

The doctor was very much interested in how Zurgon's first day at the human school had gone, from both a personal and professional perspective. He wanted to know how his comrade's day had gone - though he hoped that the majority of it had been different from what he had experienced in the gym. He also hoped that, perhaps, the change of subject would capture Valdar's attention and get his mind off of the things that were troubling him. On a more professional note, they did have a mission at this school, so any information that Zurgon could give them would not only help the rest of them integrate into human society, but it would also help to further their research. For all of these reasons, Plagarius was very curious about how his companion's day had gone.

Zurgon had been writhing in his chair, he was doing the best he could to keep his eyes, and nostrils, away from the sight and smell of the delicious food. One bite...Just one giant bite..Just..Just detach your jaw, and eat the entire pot... His stomach gurgled as he whined silently to himself. The reptilians self control was admirable but it was killing it. It took longer than he'd expected, he wasn't sure what all the hugging and crying was about, and if it had been any other time he probably would have inquired, but this was meal time, this was food time, this was Zurgon time.

Zurgon began to lose hope as he sunk down into his chair, his arms rocking back and forth at both sides of the chair like noodles. When Plagarius inquired him he shot up. "Oh, right well uh..." Now that he was sitting up he could see the stew, he could smell it, he didn't care what it tasted like, he wanted it, he craved it. "Right well, it started off really slow, boring teachers, rude students, I'm being considered for an advanced math class, which isn't too thrilling but it gives me something to do.." As he trailed on Zurgon had formulated a little plan in his head, slowly his tail extended, a feature all his people had, and he began to guide it under the table towards where Vuxta's seat was. "Then the whole gym fiasco happened, and I met this guy named Stew...I mean uh, Mort, he likes this other girl but is too afraid to admit it, the other girl was really mean but she was also really nice, it's hard to explain, she didn't want to be there seemingly, like most of the students, then I got attacked, you know that part already. Oh there's this really cute girl named Rachel, she has blonde hair, I tried to dance with her..." Zurgon's tail rose like a snake being charmed out by a flute. "So then we had lunch, and I don't really remember much, it's a bit of a blur, so is the rest of the day..." Zurgon's tail struck like a cobra, attacking the stew and soaking in the liquid. Quickly he retracted it and very noticeably began to suck the flavor off of his spiked tail.

Vuxta had been quietly sitting in her chair, simply observing her companions with a small smile. She was patiently awaiting her turn to get the stew she had cooked, not minding the wait at all. It was a common custom of her people for the chef to be the last to get food. It was simply considered polite to wait until everyone was satisfied before serving yourself. Vuxta had grown quite used to this, and was more concerned with serving others than herself. She just wanted everyone to have their fill.

When Plagarius and Valdar got their share, she nearly reached out to the pot to immediately pass it to Zurgon. Only when she remembered his large appetite did she pause. If she passed it to him now, she would possibly not get anything. This was never an issue back home, but could be a problem here. Vuxta had to ignore the common courtesy of her people while she was here, or risk not getting a meal. So with a sigh, she picked up the pot and brought it closer to her. She had taken notice of Zurgon's tail, and how he had used it to sample the stew. Clearly he was starved, or impatient, possibly both. Vuxta sort of wished he hadn't dipped his tail in the stew, but she decided not to let it bother her too much.

While pouring out a little bit of stew for herself, she listened to Zurgon explain how his day had gone. It started out pretty much how she would have predicted, sounding like any other school day. She wasn't surprised when he mentioned being considered for an advanced class, and simply gave a smile and nod. Vuxta took interest when he started mentioning others. She was pleased that he had apparently made some friends. "Sounds like you had an eventful day." She said as she passed the pot of stew to him. "Seems like you've made some friends, too. That's always good."

Taking a bite of the stew, I turn toward Vuxta. A small smile forms on my face as the stew tastes as good as it smells. Despite all my pain, being with them, seems to soothe me. I wonder if I can move my underground home to here. Maybe even I can make it an extra addition to this, so I don't have to be alone in that cruel neighborhood."This is delicious, thank you Vuxta. Even with lesser ingrediants you can create such a tasty stew. Thank you all. Addressing Zurgon, after hearing him talk about school today, I shake my head. Well none of that would have happened, if I had been around, not that irresponsible oaf of a substitute. I'd easily have stopped the bullies, and their boys, without even breaking a sweat," I proudly.

//Not my most detailed character sheet, sorry//

Real Name: Rexar "Scourge of the Stars" Scourger
Alias: Rex Winchester
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Occupation: Teacher Assistant
Grade: All grades and classes depending on time
Faction: The Galactic Order
Personality: Merciless, Ruthless, Cunning, Murderous, Soulless. Rexar has no fears, no limits, willing to do anything if the order is given to him, a true soldier. Seemingly an angry being with a huge temper, Rexar seems able to control it, seeming very gentlemanly when in the presence of someone, very intelligent and able to fool any that he wishes considering he finds it easy to go on with a lie. He speaks calmly despite his looks, he has a deep voice with a sort of rasp to it.
Opinion on Humans: Rexar doesn't care either way about the humans as he just sees them as a mission. He sees everyone other than him and his superiors and comrades not worthy of life.
True Appearance: Rexar stands at 6'2", large and bulky with muscles bulging out wherever you look. His body is red in coloration and he has a square head, his eyes are purple. Rexar has four large arms and a large thick dinosaur like tail. He has two tiny antennas that poke out from above his brow. Aswell as razor sharp teeth. He wears a tight white material suit with X's on the front, back and sides, connecting to eachother. He has feet like that of a Tyrannosaurus.
Human Appearance: Rex wears a tight gray undershirt and a navy blue denim long sleeve shirt with the cuffs rolled up and a pair of tight dark blue jeans. He wears an unzipped brown faded and worn leather jacket with a large folded down collar with white stripes adorned on both sleeves. He has a square head and brown spiky wavy hair leaning to the right that has a bit of height to it but not too much. Around his neck he wears a necklace with a small wooden cog.
Other: Not much is known about him as he is an enigma, a myth, a living legend, thought to be purely a fairy tale, or at least his reputation is. Those who fought with him in the past know of his brutality and what he is capable of. Only sent on missions as a last resort or for ones where killing or genocide is involved. Known by everyone in the Galactic Order as the Scourge of the Stars, legends tell that Rexar has little as ten million deaths on his hands within a single earth year and has conquered large planets on his lonesome in mere months. Although all of this is purely speculation and only those who have worked with him know if the rumors are true. Some say he was born someone else and something caused him to become the way he is.

((OOC: Accepted, Lunarz. :3))

Plagarius listened with fascinated interest as Zurgon described how his first day at school had been. So intent was he in hearing about his younger companion's experiences that he, unlike Vuxta, did not see that reptilian tail stealthily making its way towards the pot of stew. Instead, he would simply give his fellow comrade a nod of understanding every so often. The Corvonian had yet to even touch his bowl of stew which was set to the side, as his hands were instead folded neatly in front of him on the table. It might have seemed that he simply wasn't hungry, or that he wasn't very fond of Vuxta's cooking, which was certainly not the case. No, this was simply how a Corvonian dined - by spending most of the time talking and listening, and very little time actually eating.

As Zurgon finished his description of what had occurred that day, Plagarius was no longer left completely oblivious to his covert maneuvers at getting some stew, for that tail had just now whipped out of the pot and into the reptilian alien's mouth. Instead of being appalled - as perhaps he should have been, for what horrid table manners those were - the Corvonian merely twittered a bit, saying, "Goodness, I suppose you simply couldn't wait any longer." Looking to see that Vuxta had gotten her share, the doctor gestured to the pot, saying, "By all means, dig in."

Now that Zurgon wasn't currently starving himself to death, Plagarius took the time to consider both Zurgon's and Vuxta's words. He nodded in agreement with Vuxta's assessment, though he was still very much curious about the details of his companion's day at the school. To anyone else, they might have thought that Zurgon had given plenty of specifics, but to the Corvonian, who loved to talk and inquire for much lengthier periods of time than most, his younger companion had only just begun.

Leaning forward in what might have been anticipation to learn more specifics, the doctor asked, "You excelled in mathematics, then? How good of you! Tell me, at just what level of difficulty were your classes?" He could have gone on and on asking questions about everything Zurgon had said, but the advanced math class was one of the first things that Zurgon had mentioned, and so Plagarius was tackling that topic first.

"You're welcome, Valdar. Glad you like it." Vuxta smiled. She was pleased that he was satisfied with the meal, even though it wasn't something she was used to making. Her smiled faded as he continued on. She didn't want her companion blaming himself for another's actions. "It's not your fault, dear. There's no way you could have known what was going to happen. The substitute is responsible, and they should have been able to handle the kids." She paused with a sigh. "And I hope you only would have given the kids a stern lecture and proper punishment. They may have misbehaved, but they are still only children. And there is no pride to be found in their actions, or in giving them punishments." She said with a hint of firmness in her tone.

Vuxta turned her attention to Plagarius now, who seemed to have not taken even one bite of his food. With anyone else, she might have been concerned, but she could clearly see that he was fully invested in a conversation with Zurgon. She smiled as the Corvonian asked for more details. While she was content in the information she had gathered for the most part, she figured that Plagarius was far from it. There was no need for her to ask questions, when he would take care of that job himself. So while she quietly waited for Zurgon to reply, she sampled her own cooking, giving a melodic hum at the taste.

OOC: Not much research was done the Kassar, due to the Days with No Sun. Valdar is the only living and remaining speciman of the Kassar. Our homeworlds are nothing but barren, lifeless, forever smoldering planets, covered in ruins, but no bones. The Galactic Order ransacked the planets gathering, shattering/breaking the remains of the dead and burned them to ash, as a sign, a symbol of erasing us from exsistance. Though afterwards through studying what little studies on us, they hope one of us, survived so they may have such a priceless, treasure, and exotic pet.

"Of course, I would never hurt a child. Children were, I mean are the seeds of a new tomarrow, of the future. I would try to understand why they are the way they are and help them to overcome this, so they can be all they want to be, not what they were influenced to be. I support a happy, fun, healthy and safe environment in my occupation," I reply with a smile, but a tear escapes my eyes, splashing onto the table. Taking another napkin, I quickly dry my tears, trying to forget my pain.

OOC: @Lunarz: Yes, it'll be nice to have an aggressive bruiser on the team, what with all the sullen, serious, pale-skinned loners, ha. Morph doesn't really count, since he's more pissy than aggressive (although he has his moments).


Morph stayed put by the doorway and checked the corridors while his group retrieved the unconscious boy. He made a mental note that this was his third time being in Mr. White's classroom, and realized that two out of three visits were due to them attempting to cover their tracks. He let out a silent exhalation and continued to monitor outside for any movement.

((OOC: I agree. It'll be interesting to have such a different character on the team. I look forward to seeing how he interacts with the other Galactic Order members. :3))

Following Syndral and Motherbot out of the classroom, the Targibbon shut the door quietly behind him, locking it so it was the same way they had found it. After trying to doorknob once to make sure it was locked, he did a quick glance from one end of the hall to the other. This action really wasn't necessary, as Morph was already keeping an eye out and Motherbot was keeping track of the only other person in the building, but it was a habit that was deeply ingrained in him. Many of his previous missions had been conducted alone, and he hadn't any allies at those times to help watch his back. So while the entire weight of this mission was not on just his shoulders alone, Elim still couldn't break the habit of looking out for himself.

Trailing after Syndral and Motherbot as quickly and quietly as he could, the amphibious alien glanced back at Morph once to make sure he was following. It wasn't as if he really believed that his fellow agent wouldn't follow them, it was more of him assuring himself that Morph hadn't been snatched away by anyone or anything trying to pick them off one by one. While the possibility of something like this happening was improbable, what with the janitor being the only other entity in the vicinity, there were some habits that Elim simply found it hard to break. It was for the best, perhaps, for even on a retrieval mission such as this, almost anything could go wrong, and it was always better to be cautious.

Turning to address Motherbot, he asked quietly, "What is the status of the lifeform?" He was curious to know just how far away this "janitor" was, and if they needed to be concerned about him.

Zurgon wanted to answer the question, he really did, after all he was always talking, always finding someone to bother with his incessant blabbering. However, before he could do that, he had to eat and eat he did. With both of his hands he grabbed the pot, his claws making a 'clank'ing noise as they hit the metal. The lizard picked the pot over his head and slurped down the stew, his long forked tongue reached every missed drop, no crevice would be left unchecked. Unsavory slurping and groaning noises of pleasure came out of the creature as he devoured the stew and slammed it down on the table with a giant exhaling sigh.

"Well..." He said, still licking the stew off his face with his long tongue. "It was child's play, that's why I was bumped up, we didn't do much work in all of the classes, except for math, but I can get that's because the teacher doesn't like to fool around, not my cup of tea, I'd rather just eat some burgers and talk to my new friends, but a job's a job!" Zurgon then decided to ask Plagarius a question. "How are you settling into Earth?"

-----

Unbeknownst to the aliens the Janitor had decided to sneak into a utility closet, it had been a long day for him and he was the only one there after all, so no one would ever know. Without really minding making any noise due to his loneliness, Gordy slipped into a closet and prepared himself a makeshift bed out of anything soft he could find and dozed off.

As Plagarius waited patiently for Zurgon's answer, it became clear that something else was the Zarn's number one priority. The Corvonian watched - for how could someone not watch what was unfolding just now? - as his younger comrade took the entire pot of stew and devoured its contents in a remarkably short amount of time. For a moment, the bird-like creature didn't utter a peep, but as it was in his nature to talk excessively, he did not stay quiet for long. "My goodness," he trilled softly. "I do hope no one was hoping for seconds."

He twittered humorously for a few moments, but immediately quieted down and listened with interest as Zurgon relayed to him how his classwork had been. When his companion was finished speaking, Plagarius noted, "I suppose it would make sense. These classes are for young people, after all, though I suppose even if they weren't, they would still prove simple enough for one of us." Looking to Vuxta for a moment, he continued, "I don't pretend to know just how far behind humans' academics are compared to our own, but I should think that any sort of class they can offer at this school would not be beyond our comprehension."

Taking a few moments to consider Zurgon's question, the Corvonian told him, "So far, we have only started settling into this establishment. Though I cannot speak for Vuxta, I myself have not been exposed to human society as of yet. My first interactions with humans should begin tomorrow at school. So until I have actually donned my disguise and set foot out into the outside world, I cannot yet say how I am settling into Earth, as you put it."

Blinking owlishly at Zurgon, he continued, "It would seem, my good man, that you are the one who has had the most experience on Earth thus far. As such, you should probably be the designated speaker of this evening, if you are to relay your experiences to us."

Plagarius's manner of speech and the way he spoke of the conversation they were having might have seemed a bit odd to anyone else, but for Corvonians, it was actually quite normal for people to suggest who should do the talking and who should do the listening. As a species who loved conversation, they often took great care to ensure that these interactions were as orderly and stress-free as possible. Thus, it wasn't uncommon for speakers to be anointed one at a time, so that everyone might have a chance to eventually speak, and so that everyone could listen without disruptions.

Izvi had been following the janitor around the whole time, even going as far as going into the utility closet with him. It casually flew around the room like any normal fly would, observing Gordy's every move. It stayed there with him, awaiting further instructions.

With a smile, Motherbot turned her gaze to Elim. "No need to worry. The janitor is in a utility closet, apparently taking a nap." She answered, while continuing to follow Syndral down the hallway.

The Zvarranik paused for a moment and narrowed her gaze, staring down the hallway as if something was amiss. "Sounds rather convenient." She stated quietly. She didn't trust it. It all just seemed too easy. Humans were idiotic, sure, but it still just seemed too simple. Plus, it was strange. Why would the janitor be in the closet, apparently sleeping? Didn't humans have homes to sleep in? Was he even human? Was he planning something? Perhaps this janitor was nothing more than a decoy, meant to distract them from a trap of some kind.



Vuxta remained quiet as she noticed a tear fall from Valdar's eye. She gave a simple nod of agreement to his words. Taking everything into consideration, she wondered how difficult his life must have been. Something clearly seemed to be troubling him, and it was apparent to her that it wasn't simply previous events in the gym. There just seemed to be more to it than that. She almost wanted to ask, but figured it might be best not to. She didn't want to pry into personal matters that she had no business asking about. Perhaps he wasn't ready to talk yet.

So instead, the Sagabi turned her attention to her other companions. She hoped their conversation could brighten the mood a bit. She found Zurgon's behavior particularly uplifting, chuckling softly at his table manners. "Oh, dear, are you even tasting the food?" She asked in amusement. At Plagarius's comment, she wondered again if she had actually made enough. "I can always cook more, if need be." She offered.

Listening to the Corvonian, Vuxta nodded in agreement to his words. While she was no expert on the school system herself, it was an observation she had made that apparently Earth academics were behind alien species. So school should be easy for pretty much any of them. She figured her class would likely be the hardest for an alien, not because history was difficult, but because it was the history of humans and not any alien species.

She didn't add anything when they started talking about their experiences. While she had been around humans all day, she mostly just sat quietly at her desk while she let her students get acquainted or catch up with one another after summer break. It gave her a chance to observe them behaving naturally, while also planning her curriculum for class.

Zurgon tried to compose his thoughts for a moment, the way that his brain worked was that it was like he could actually see his thoughts, perhaps due to his peoples slight telepathic abilities, it was like a giant bowl of sentences and questions, all pre-prepared after a question had been asked or something had been said, Zurgon always had options, of course that was free will but the way it worked with him was he worked out several answers in mere seconds before choosing one, sometimes at random, and sometimes things got jumbled, especially if there were dozens of ways of explaining something. This was most likely the reason Zurgon was so hyper, why he asked so many questions and talked so much, it was because he had a slight disability, normally those of his species can take their time and can understand all the choices in their head before picking just one, but Zurgon was slower than them, his brain didn't work at the same speed, but his mouth did.

Finally he spoke, first to Vuxta. "I'd love more food, it's never even a question for me, but I wouldn't want to strain you and make you do something just for me." The truth was that he was starving, but he'd hold back the appetite, if he was hungry he packed tons of filling food in his ship just a little ways away from the house and could always go there and get some.

"Well, I like humans, I think, I like some humans. A lot of them were really rude, snarky, arrogant, but some were kind and considerate and loving, Like Rachel, Mort seemed really cool too, just a bit...Trouble, but I'm sure he'll come around once he finds what he's looking for. Rachel was pretty and she was really nice but she was sort of shy, then there was this girl, Diane, she seemed...Distant, as if she was the only one that mattered, but I could see there was emotion deep down, maybe she just had a troubling past, I know I have. I don't have a lot of info other than the people I've met, school isn't the most exciting thing but I like the people that I met so it's not all that bad, plus the food there is really great."

As Zurgon spoke, Plagarius listened with an undivided attention, taking in every detail with rapt fascination. Corvonians enjoyed listening to others just as much as they loved to talk themselves, so the doctor was definitely greatly interested in everything his younger companion had to say. Tilting his head in a bird-like fashion and unclasping his hands from where they had previously been folded neatly on the table, he gestured imploringly for Zurgon to continue, saying, “It would seem that you have made some friends, as well as enemies.” Indeed, for the doctor had not forgotten how his fellow agent had been attacked in the gym.

Tilting his head another way, perhaps to look at Zurgon at a different angle, or perhaps this was a Corvonian gesture of some sort of enthusiasm, he continued, “Why don’t you tell us about them? Did they treat you well enough? Well, not your attackers, obviously, but the others? How did you come to form these bonds with them?” Anyone else probably would have agreed that Zurgon had described his newest acquaintances very well already, but Plagarius seemingly wanted to know every detail he possibly could.

OOC: Wait, who's holding the boy?
EDIT: Oh I see now. I didn't bother to look at the last page, ahhh. Thanks!


Morph was trailing behind Motherbot, frequently looking behind him and watching for anyone or anything that might appear down the hallway. He avoided looking directly in front of him until Syndral turned around, suspicious of the janitor's apparent position. Morph thought for a minute before adding quietly, "A lot of people tend to sleep on the job when there's not a lot of pressure to keep working. He's a janitor, and it's likely that no one else is here." He hoped that his response could reassure his group. "Also, not everyone has a work ethic like yours," he added, immediately regretting it when he realized how his statement could possibly be taken. "-but don't take that the wrong way." That sounded even worse.

((OOC: Motherbot is. :3))

Elim was a bit bewildered by Motherbot’s assessment of the janitor’s status. He was taking a nap? In his closet? The Galactic Order agent wasn’t sure whether to find this suspicious or account it towards strange, idiotic human behavior. When Syndral voiced her speculation about the situation, his concern grew worse and the feeling that something was amiss was getting stronger. The Targibbon already didn’t like the situation. It seemed like they were walking away without any interference. That idea didn’t sit well with him. It wasn’t as if he wanted something to go wrong, but the amount of things actually going right with this mission was unnerving. It just shouldn’t be this simple.

The agent turned around fully to face Morph as he voiced his own opinion on the matter. He considered his words thoughtfully. It was very possible that this was just a human case of neglecting to do their job properly. It wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest. Still, he had a nagging feeling that this was just all wrong. Part of him wanted to vacate the area immediately, while another part of him wanted to investigate why this janitor was here. Was he somehow spying on them? Was he part of an elaborate trap? He couldn’t be certain.

His thoughts were cut off as Morph continued on, only now he seemed to be regretting every word that came out of his mouth, if his attempts at revising his statements attested to anything. Elim regarded his fellow agent with his usual unreadable expression, not giving any hint as to whether he had been offended by his comrade’s words or not. Instead, he merely took another moment to think before finally saying, “We need to move, whether it’s to get out or to investigate aet seasbhe poculumu.” His features betrayed a faint hint of annoyance at this slip-up, but was quickly replaced with his ever-present mask of neutrality.

"Oh, it's no problem at all, dear." Vuxta smiled. "I'm happy to cook for you if you're still hungry." While she would stay true to her word, she did sort of hope she wouldn't have to be cooking for him too much. She did enjoy it, but she wanted a chance to rest as well. There were other responsibilities to attend to aside from cooking and grocery shopping.

As Zurgon rambled on, she quietly listened while she ate her stew. Even though there were some problem students, she was glad that it seemed like Zurgon had made some friends. They sounded nice, even if there were maybe some issues with them. But you can't judge a book by its cover. People may not seem friendly on the surface, but it doesn't mean that they're bad, and it sounded like he may have met some people like that already. While it sounded like he had described them well enough, she wasn't surprised when Plagarius asked more questions, and she gave an amused smile at that.



Syndral carefully considered Morph's words for a moment. While it was very likely that this janitor was simply sleeping on the job, it still just didn't sit right with her. The mission still seemed too easy. Nothing had gone wrong, and while that should be a celebratory thing, it just made her uneasy. It just felt like there was a trap waiting for them somewhere. I mean, who sleeps on the job anyway? Surely something was amiss somewhere.

Although, she stopped those thoughts, when Morph continued. She knew she couldn't argue with him there. Ever since leaving her home planet, she had met countless others who didn't have a work ethic like her. She just didn't understand how they could not take their jobs as seriously. Work was really important. At least, that was what she had been taught. She didn't think much of his words, until he tried to possibly improve his statement. Syndral was confused, wondering why he would think she would take that the wrong way. Was he implying that her work ethic wasn't good enough, or was there another reason?

Motherbot could tell that the Zvarranik wasn't focusing on the mission at the moment, and she was about to get her attention, when Elim spoke up. "I think we should leave while we have an easy exit. Izvi can investigate if need be. Sound good, Syn?" She asked, trying to get her back on track again.

"Hmm?" Syndral blinked, being brought out of her thoughts.

"The mission." She reminded firmly. "What's our next move?"

"Oh. Right. Considering we have an unconscious human here, we should probably tend to him first." She answered, speaking more quietly than usual. Syndral looked down, as if trying to avoid eye contact with the others.

Morph withheld a distressed groan after witnessing Syndral's reaction. He ended up offending her. Fantastic. Now he'd have to explain himself to her. But he didn't want to outright lie to her. Even still, now that he thought about it, Syndral probably has no idea that his statement could have been interpreted the way he was thinking. So, maybe he could tell only part of the truth? Or something similar to what he was originally thinking?

Remembering that they were in the middle of a mission, he shook himself out of his thoughts. That was most important; apologizing could wait later.

After having offered his viewpoint of the situation, and in waiting for his fellow agents’ input, Elim returned to glancing this way and that, his eyes scanning for trouble. They were so close to getting out of this building and getting one step further to the end of this mission, but plenty of things could still go wrong. At this point, since the janitor was the only other lifeform in the school building, the Targibbon was looking for any possible indication of a surveillance device or trap of some sort. He didn’t think he’d find anything, but he figured he should do something of use while they were at this temporary standstill.

The agent did this for a while until he was brought out of his monitoring for danger by Motherbot, who suggested that they vacate the premises while they had the chance. He was inclined to agree with her, and was about to say as such, when his comrades’ behavior caught his attention. They seemed… occupied, and not with their mission, clearly, but by something else entirely. Syndral almost looked… dejected, which was odd, and Morph seemed more distressed than usual. Though his expression betrayed nothing, he was confused by their sudden change in demeanor. Had he missed something? What had caused them to react this way? The only thing that had happened recently was Morph’s earlier statement and his attempted revision of that statement.

Elim sighed. Whatever Morph had said must have caused this sudden discomfort between his comrades. He didn’t really understand this. Targibbons were by no means cruel – most of them – but they did tend to be very blunt and forthright in their statements. They did not take others’ feelings into consideration when they spoke, not necessarily due to a lack of empathy, but because they believed in being short and truthful in their statements as opposed to weaving together pretty, elaborate lies that people liked to hear. They did not believe in dragging a conversation longer than it needed to be in order to assure that no one’s feelings were hurt, because his people were not emotional creatures. You could point out everything that was wrong about them and they wouldn’t bat an eye. They simply weren’t offended or otherwise affected by anything other people might say to them.

This was why the Targibbon was a bit at a loss by his comrades’ behavior. Though he understood that Syndral’s and Morph’s species were much different from his own in their own respective ways, and knew that this was merely a cultural difference between them, he still couldn’t wrap his head around why they were acting the way they were. One might compare the situation to the differences between cats and dogs. Dogs growl when they’re angry, and wag their tails when they’re happy. Cats are the opposite, for they purr when they’re happy, and lash their tails when they’re angry. To be sure, a cat and a dog would have a hard time understanding each other, just because their gestures and ways of reacting to certain things were very different.

Elim didn’t waste any more time considering the matter, however, for they had a mission to complete, and he wasn’t going to let anything interrupt their progress. “Come on,” was all he said as he led the way to the doors they had come in through.

Motherbot watched as Elim headed down the hallway. She turned to Syndral. "Hey, stay focused. We still have a job to do. That comes first." She stated firmly. She inched closer, and continued in a quieter and gentler voice. "We can discuss this later, okay?" She gave a soft smile.

Syndral looked up and met the robot's gaze. She knew that she was right, she had just gotten distracted by what Morph had said. She took a deep breath and gave a nod. She turned, and hurried after Elim. Motherbot trailed after her. They were almost done. They just had to get out and get to the house.

Since the mission seemed to be a success, and the janitor was apparently sleeping, Motherbot sent a signal to Izvi to head back to them. She hadn't detected anything amiss that would interfere with their mission now, so she figured it was safe to have Izvi come back. Izvi understood its orders, and flew under the door to escape the closet. It headed down the hallway, making its way back to its owner.

Morph struggled to stay focused, but felt immensely guilty upon overhearing Motherbot briefly console his partner. First he hisses in class like some sort of animal, then nearly blows Syndral's cover, then he shakes someone's hand after forgetting to properly set up his disguise (which was a dumb mistake in itself), and then he goes ballistic on somebody not twenty minutes afterwards and causes everybody to have to clean up his mess. On top of all that, now he's offended her. Today was awful, and he wished it would just end already.
"Let's hurry," he said quickly, his tone hoarse. He wanted to be out of that school right away.

When Elim approached the door, he didn't just walk right out, despite Morph's suggestion to quicken their pace. Instead, he opened the door just enough to peek his head out, looking this way and that. It was dark now, the sun having gone completely below the horizon. Still, there could be potential witnesses lurking about, and the agent wasn't taking any chances. Bringing his hand up to adjust the settings on his glasses, he scanned the area once, twice, thrice, before he was satisfied that no one would bear witness to what was transpiring.

Turning to the others, he said quietly, "It's all clear." With that, he opened the door all the way, standing there holding it open so Motherbot, who had her arms full with the human boy in her arms, could more easily get out of the building. Despite the lack of human activity, the Targibbon kept his eye out. They were close to having this finished, now. All they needed to do was get the boy in the car and then into Syndral's base.

Motherbot headed out first, giving a nod and smile to Elim for holding the door open for her. Her sensors had told her it was clear, but she understood that Elim may want to check for himself. Before heading straight for the car, she paused and glanced back at Syndral.

The Zvarranik stepped out and headed over to Motherbot. "Wait. What about--"

Motherbot gave a smile. "Already taken care of. Just wait a moment."

Syndral glanced back, staring at the school entrance. Soon Izvi flew out. The bugbot flew straight to Syndral and gave a high-pitched beep. The Zvarranik smiled softly and held out her hand. When it landed, she put it back in her utility belt. "At least Izvi isn't damaged..." She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now let's get to the car." Motherbot hurried over to Syndral's car.

Syndral trailed behind and then opened the door to the backseat for her. Motherbot carefully placed the boy inside, laying him down across the seat gently. She held him propped up in a sitting position just long enough for her to get in herself. Once Motherbot was seated, she laid the boy's head in her lap.

The Zvarranik glanced back at Morph. "Come on, I will give you a ride home once we drop him off." She stated simply. Her tone sounded as flat as usual, and her expression was blank.

Morph shuffled his feet impatiently as Elim cautiously checked the outside perimeters. He made no hesitation to leave when his fellow agent held the door for them. He was hunched over and had his arms tightly crossed as they approached their means of transportation. He had his back turned away from the others until Syndral invited him to take a seat. Breathing "Okay," he quickly opened the car door and sat beside the diver's seat. Everything seemed to take longer than usual.

Elim shut the door after everyone had made their way out of the building, locking it behind him so that it was the way they had found it. Taking a few glances here and there, still rather wary of witnesses, he walked the distance to his vehicle, saying nothing to his comrades in typical Targibbon fashion. When he slipped into the driver's seat, he was immediately reminded of just how much he hated this car, but he dealt with it, because their mission was almost over. With that thought shoved into the back of his mind, he drove off towards his destination.

((OOC: So are we having our Order members all meet up at Syndral's house so they can discuss their findings like the Brotherhood members are doing? That's what I figured we'd do. Or we can have them each sulk in their own homes by themselves. ))

Once everyone was seated, Syndral got in the driver's seat and started up her car. She drove off down the road, heading for her base. It was almost over. They just had to make it to the house and get the boy inside. Syndral sighed. It was only the first day and they were already having to cover their tracks. If this kept up, their purpose for being here would not last long. She hoped they wouldn't end up failing. She grimaced at the thought. She just couldn't let that happen.

ooc: Ooh, that's a great idea! Motherbot can even make cookies! x3

Zurgon didn't really mind answering all the questions, however he was getting quite fidgety, it was hard for Zurgon to sit still, and that's why school was also difficult for him and seemed like the days were lasting forever. He needed to move, to have a space where he wasn't restricted. This was the reason why he hated chairs, couches were much more pleasant, aswell as recliners. He enjoyed the free reign they provided.

"I'm not sure if I'd say we bonded, but I definitely would consider them future friends, and hopefully that future is tomorrow! I wanted to hang out with the female with the blonde hair but she didn't have a cellular device and was a bit nervous about me it seemed, or maybe she was just reeaaallly happy to see me, I know how dashing I am, but that's besides the point." Still hungry, Zurgon kept his eye out for any bugs he could quickly flick with his tongue, it would seem he was distracted as his eyes flew every direction but he kept his main focus upon his housemates. "I just tried to be friendly and make them laugh, it didn't always work but it seemed to for a few, Mort is my new designated best friend next to Rachel, we shall watch soccerball and complain about females not having short enough skirts, I believe this is how male humans work."

OOC: They'd probably discuss the mission, then end up talking about their feelings. Although there would probably more awkward, long, mopey pauses, ha.

Morph was trying to focus on the things passing by in the window beside him, but he couldn't stop glancing at Syndral. He was trying to detect a change in demeanor, and when he noticed her grimace slightly, he couldn't take it anymore.
"OK, look. What I said back there, I-- I don't know. I don't know how I thought you would take it, and I wasn't thinking. I mean--" he groaned exasperatedly, "I didn't mean to offend you. I said that last thing because I-- I guess-- I didn't want you to think that I was... sucking up to you, or something."
He took a few seconds to take a deep breath and pull himself together, and tried to think through what he just said. "What I mean to say is... well... a lot of agents I've been with in the past have really not taken kindly to compliments. Maybe it's just me, but some of them ended up thinking I was some kind of... sycophant... so I reacted that way to you. But that was wrong of me to misjudge you, so I apologize. For that, and for possibly making you feel the way you do now," he explained carefully, using the knowledge he had of her from the past mission to choose his wording.

Little did the three Order members know, that inside of Syndral's home, their next meeting spot, an old face lurked in the shadows, sitting in what was the tackiest chair that the mysterious being had ever seen. Most likely it was Motherbot's work, the being knew that Syndral never went anywhere without that thing and its man-made emotions, its false creativity. The being knew that the furniture was all a ploy and the Zvarranik didn't care much as long as no one was able to realize it was a ploy.

The being chuckled to itself, a deep masculine voice emitting from the slight laugh. He couldn't help but find it funny that Syndral was forced to this, it was degrading in his opinion, that she had to pretend to be someone else and put on such a show in terms of appearance and home aesthetics, although that was expected for a member of the Order due to infiltration and what not, this just all seemed so extreme. The being had never been to a planet like this, most of the planets the Order was sent to knew of other life or was that "other life", so no disguise was required, and of course this being was aswell chosen to venture to Earth by the Order and he too would have to don a disguise and have a false home but his job wasn't theirs, he wasn't there for information and extermination, he was there to check in, to watch over, report back frequently, to spy on the troops, make sure they were doing their jobs, make sure they weren't converting to the side of the humans. Of course this being wouldn't let them know that, he'd only tell them he wanted a change of pace from his usual murderous and life threatening missions and so the Order sent him thinking that four more arms could help even more.

The being waited in the darkness, waiting for the Order members to walk through that door. Sitting in a chair with his bottom arms crossed, his large tail draping off the side, in his top hands a book, ET, the book that Syndral had been assigned to read by English teacher Mr. Normandy.

The way that this beings disguise worked was through that of a Dimensional Body Changing Generator. Something would bend "reality" or more matter of factually, it bent the particles and atoms in the air or from his body parts if someone went to touch them, so if someone were to walk where his tail would be normally, then the particles would bend so they could walk through. As for his actual disguise, it was just a projection, albeit an incredibly advanced one, one that when in the presence of someone not on the Generator's list of friendlies, would force a change due to a full 100% accurate DNA detector, it could also be changed on and off manually through a specific sound pattern only initiated by the wearer, so for this being, it was a specific snap rhythm.

The being waited patiently, quietly reading the book, his two tiny ears, located in his antennas, listening for Syndral, Elim, and Morph to arrive.

As Plagarius listened to his companion speak, he noticed that his behavior was a bit off. He seemed almost… restless, as if he was nervous about something or was thinking about something that put him on edge. The doctor had no way of knowing that Zurgon just wanted to get up and move around, but he could clearly see that something else was on his mind. He seemed distracted from the way he kept shifting in his seat and flicking his eyes about in almost every direction. The Corvonian took note of this, but didn’t say anything while his fellow agent spoke and listened very intently to everything he had to say.

Though he wanted to inquire as to what was bothering his comrade, Plagarius was also very interested in what he was saying, and it simply wouldn’t do to interrupt Zurgon to ask what was troubling him. So the bird-like creature listened to his companion’s input just as intently as before, giving a nod of acknowledgment here and there and considering everything he said very thoughtfully. Zurgon’s last comment made him trill a bit. He couldn’t confirm whether or not young human males actually did that, not knowing much about human behavior himself, nor did he really understand why the length of one’s skirt would be something to complain about, and so the idea was so foreign to him that he found it rather humorous.

Quieting down again, the birdman’s eyes took on a more concerned look in them as he asked, “Are you feeling quite alright, good sir? Is something troubling you?” Though he wanted to comment on Zurgon’s experiences during his first day of school – and no doubt ask countless more questions regarding how the day went and what all had transpired – the doctor was more concerned at the moment by whatever was bothering his young friend. The Corvonian simply could not bear the thought of him being uncomfortable. For his people, conversations were supposed to be enjoyable, and so the thought of Zurgon being upset by something in the midst of their interaction was something he would not allow to go uninvestigated. He wanted to make Zurgon feel as comfortable as possible, so that he might enjoy this conversation as much as the doctor was.


The Order agent drove casually down the street, more slowly than he had during the daytime. Driving this primitive, toxic vehicle was bad enough during the day, but driving it at nighttime was another matter entirely. Elim didn’t particularly like operating a vehicle such as this in such low visibility. It wasn’t necessarily that he couldn’t see well. In fact, while certainly not equipped to see without aid in the complete darkness of night, Targibbons’ eyesight was somewhat better than humans’ in terms of seeing in low light conditions, since on their planet, their sun was always obscured by a thick, cloud-like layer in their atmosphere. So Elim could see his surroundings just as well as any human – maybe even better – but he still didn’t like driving at night. A human car was still an unfamiliar vehicle to him, so he didn’t even feel perfectly comfortable driving in the daytime, let alone at night.

So he drove his car slowly towards his house. Though he and the other Order agents were going to meet up at Syndral’s base, Elim thought it best to park his car in his driveway. It would seem strange for a teacher’s car to be seen at a student’s house at night, he surmised, and so he parked the vehicle at his own house. Getting out of the poisonous death trap of a transportation vehicle, he started to walk the distance to Syndral’s house, which was not far away.

Syndral blinked and briefly glanced at Morph, only turning back to the road to see where she was driving. Her car could go on auto-pilot, but it was good to keep up appearances at least. She didn't know what to say. She hadn't expected him to say that at all. He was complimenting her? And he was afraid she'd only think of him as a sycophant? Where in the world did he even get such an idea? She didn't think she gave him that impression.

The Zvarranik just quietly stared blankly ahead, eyes locked on the road. She needed a moment to gather her thoughts and try to make sense of this. "Morph, I... I don't consider you that in the slightest..." Her voice was quiet and soft. "You are not a sycophant. If you are, then you are a poor one for being obsequious with the wrong person..." She sighed. "I am no one important...." Her voice seemed to get even quieter. "Just... I--It's fine.... There is no need to apologize to me..."

As they drove down the road, Motherbot got a signal from the base, stating that there was someone in the house. She checked on this immediately, searching the surveillance system for signs of this supposed intruder. When she saw that it was simply a member of the Order, she relaxed. At least it was an ally, although she didn't know why they were in the base without permission. Syndral wasn't going to be too happy about that, but at least they were only in the house and not the lab. Ally or not, no one goes into Syndral's lab without permission. Zvarraniks hated to have their work space invaded.

Motherbot figured she should tell Syndral, but she was caught up in a conversation with Morph. Her more logical robotic half of her programming stated to inform her master of a presence in the base. However, the human mother that had been programmed into her for this particular mission said to let her finish her conversation with her partner and not interrupt them. It was a sensitive topic, and she wanted to give them a chance to work through it. Her motherly side ultimately won out in the end, and she decided to wait for a good time to say something.

Morph took in Syndral's words carefully, trying to decipher the tone and volume of her voice. He was relieved that she appeared to no longer be offended, but when the subject seemed to shift towards a touchier subject, he grew more worried. He knew that she often got like this when talking about feelings and whatnot, and although he could only guess why, he knew that she needed reassurance.
"This is a high-risk mission for on-the-field agents. They must really trust you." His gaze moved ahead, away from Syndral. "I'm surprised they even let me come..." He gave half of a sigh before continuing. "I guess it's because you really cleaned up my act. I was... bad. Really bad." He tightened his crossed arms. He was about to add on to that thought, but stopped himself and remained silent, letting his words sink in.


OOC EDIT: I fixed it. Sorry, I must have skimmed over that part.

While Syndral kept her eyes locked on the road, she gave a quiet, breathy, scoff. "Oh, sure, of course they do." Her tone was flat, almost bitter and sarcastic. "A Zvarranik finally becomes an agent, and they make full use of all their abilities. They only see me as important because there are no other Zvarraniks to do a better job. If there were even one, they would forget about me in a second." Her voice got quiet again, her tone saddened by her last statement.

She sighed, and glanced at Morph when he continued. She remained quiet while she considered her words carefully. "Maybe. Perhaps we just make a good team." She said softly. She didn't want to lie about how he was in the past, but she did think there was a reason why he was on this mission. Maybe it wasn't clear to either of them exactly why he was here, but she figured it was possible it had something to do with their teamwork. She may have cleaned up his act, but she knew she had her own issues with partners before being paired up with Elim and Morph. The Zvarranik generally didn't work well with the other agents for one reason or another.

"Well..." Morph couldn't argue with that. "Yeah, the only reason that any Kwuerk would be on this mission's because I have better physical stats than average. Maybe I'm just good enough at stealth... and... throwing stuff, heh," he said with a flat, lifeless chuckle. "Your smarts, and my... 'brawn', if you'd even call it that..." After a moment of silence, he looked back at her. "I mean, you're important still. Not just in being good at your job but... hmm... well, you..." he racked his brain for the right wording. "You bring color to the place, is what I mean. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Syndral gave a weak smile. "Well, physical attributes are an important part of some of these more difficult missions, particularly stealth." She was quiet for a moment. "I guess we balance each other out." She added quietly to his comment. She gave an even longer silence when he continued. She blinked and raised an eyebrow at his comment. "Morph, my scales are black, I do not bring much color to the workplace." She stated, confusion apparent in her tone.

"Oh." He knew she would take it too literally. "Well, it's an expression, see. Color isn't literal in this case. It's representative of interest; you make work more interesting." He paused. "And that's a good thing. Dangerous work can be stressful, and without good company to be around, it gets... well... more difficult for people than it has to be."

Syndral blinked again, thinking that comment was strange. How could she make work more interesting? Where was the logic behind that? It just didn't make any sense. Besides, that so-called expression was weird. Why say anything if it wasn't meant to be taken literally? That was almost like lying. There was no point to it, and it was just a waste of time. She was about to comment on it, when he continued. When he explained further, it made more sense. She gave a slight nod in understanding. "I see." The Zvarranik stated calmly. "I have had such experiences. Inadequate partners only make matters worse." There was a moment of silence. She glanced at him with a certain soft look in her eyes. "So... I am good company?" She asked quietly, wanting to verify what he meant.

Satisfied at her understanding, Morph allowed the conversation to drift into a brief amount of silence, watching light poles and the occasional car pass by. He assumed that they were close to her home.
At Syndral's inquiry, he looked back up at her. "Oh, well--" his response was suddenly caught in his throat when a warm, tingling throb resonated within his core. Fighting to hold back his fit of hesitance, he continued, in as normal of a tone he could muster, "yes, you are." His skin felt abnormally hot as soon as those words were uttered. "I mean, you make everyone more comfortable with the mission, since you know what you're doing. Plus, it's nice to hear your sarcasm," he said with a smile, managing to relax a little.

Syndral glanced back at him when his temperature seemed to rise. She wondered what that meant and why it happened. It didn't seem to make any sense. She figured it must simply have to do with the fact that he was a different species from her, but still, it made her curious. She looked back at the road while he talked. At his words, she glanced at him once more, and gave a soft, sincere smile. It was almost hard to believe, since she never really heard things like that from anyone else. Well, Rachel had expressed that she enjoyed their conversation, but she doubted the human would feel the same if she knew the truth.

Still, regardless of who it was from, it was still nice to hear. She didn't quite understand why, even when Morph gave a reason, it just didn't seem like it could be true. She didn't see how anyone could find her company enjoyable, or find comfort in her presence on a mission, and no one back home would approve of her use of sarcasm. She was no one special. Either way, regardless of what she thought, she would remember what Morph had said.

The Zvarranik wanted to say something to him, but she struggled to find the right words. So she remained silent as they arrived at the house. She slowly pulled into the drive, signaling the garage door to open. She parked the car in the garage and the door closed behind them as she turned off the ignition.

Since they had arrived, Motherbot figured it was now or never. "Oh, Syndral, there's someone inside, and--"

"And you waited until now to tell me?" The Zvarranik asked, annoyance creeping into her tone.

"Relax. It's a member of the Order, and I didn't want to interrupt the conversation."

Syndral sighed. "You should have told me sooner. I would like to know if my house is being occupied by someone who should not enter without permission." She paused. "Just get the boy to the lab. We shall deal with our guest." And with that, she got out of the car.

The being wanted it to be a surprise, for Syndral to open the door, her fellow comrades at her side with the most shocked look upon their faces. it's him! they'd screech, showing more emotion than they ever had in their lifetimes. Shocked, confused, afraid, he loved those emotions, especially when he was the one causing them. Of course, he knew that Motherbot would have realized it was a member of the Order, most likely due to the Order branded tattoo on his upper arm which inside contained a code that could be traced to the Order database to confirm it wasn't an impostor, or maybe she used a different method, whatever it was, this being knew his surprise wouldn't be as surprising, of course, he did know that his fellow members didn't know who it was, and when they saw, well the being would never forget their faces.

This being used to fight against the Order, specifically Elim, Morph, and Syndral. Much blood was shed between him and them, conflicts arose, fights occurred, treason. However now he fought with them, and while he was sure they knew that, he hadn't worked with them since he had turned, unless you count that first fateful mission on Lama Yaqaan...Regardless of all that, he was on their side now, and he had a job to do and he didn't plan on taking him time to do so, of course his mission was more laid back, less linear, less directional, he could do whatever he wished so long as he delivered intel back to the Order.

The being chuckled at the ending of the book, he'd had time to read the entire thing which was a testament to his patience considering he'd only found the book after several hours of waiting. He did grow bored however, perusing through some of Syndral's belongings, raiding the fridge of many of its contents. He took in every bit of information that he could. And finally, he knew that the time was about to come, he could hear the footsteps leading up to the door as he sat in the chair.

Except for the butterflies in his stomach, Morph managed to relax completely, and seeing Syndral give a genuine smile helped. The previously tense atmosphere was all but gone, and they now sat in a comfortable silence with a better understanding of each other. The previous events of the day didn't seem to matter so much at the moment. He was pleased that she wasn't hurt any longer.

After letting himself soak in the good feelings for the remainder of the car trip, he was eager to disassemble his disguise. When they finally parked in Syndral's garage and Motherbot spoke up, he turned his head in disbelief. It was beyond him how anyone could get into Syndral's-- of all the people he knew-- base. It annoyed and angered him. "Well, they better not overstay their welcome," he muttered, exiting the car with her.

Elim had managed to walk the distance to Syndral’s house just in time for her vehicle to pull into the garage. Seeing the opportunity, he slipped into the garage before the door went down behind him. It might have been a strange way to reunite with his comrades, but the Targibbon wasn’t too keen on presenting himself at Ms. Garrison’s front door in the dark of the night. Though it was unlikely anyone would have seen Mr. White entering a student’s house at this hour, it was still a peculiarity that he would rather avoid. Not that slipping into the garage while her car went in was any less suspicious, but people were less likely to have actually witnessed this quick movement on his part, he surmised.

He regarded his comrades impassively as they exited the vehicle, completely unaware of the conversation they had held. Elim was also unaware of the other Order agent’s presence in her house, but was sure to find out sooner or later, either from Syndral and Morph or from the intruder himself.

The house was just like any other house on Earth that a human would have. There wasn't really anything special about it. There were no strange traces of aliens to find, no weird food, no advanced technology, nothing. They only possible thing that could be considered suspicious was the cleverly hidden and disguised surveillance system that Syndral had set up herself. Other than that, however, everything alien was located in the secret lab below the house.

Truth be told, it wasn't just a lab, it was a ship. It was Syndral's own personal spaceship that she had designed and built herself. It was specially made to accommodate all of her needs and wants. It had plenty of room to work, of course, as well as a small private living quarters. It was really only designed to be used by one person. Her car was actually only a small portion of the ship that was able to disconnect from the rest, designed to be an all-terrain transport vehicle on other planets, while the ship functioned as a home base of sorts.

Syndral gave a nod to Morph. It bothered her that someone intruded on her base without her permission, even if it was a supposed ally. She gave a sigh as she opened up the backseat for Motherbot and helped her get the boy out of the car. "Take the garage entrance." She didn't trust whoever was inside. It could be a spy, a double agent, or just someone checking up on them who could easily see only negatives in this job. It was best not to take chances.

Motherbot gave a nod of understanding. She quietly walked over to a clock on the wall and gave a good, close look at it. The clock discreetly scanned her to identify her. When it was revealed that she had been granted access, a panel of the wall opened up, revealing a high-tech elevator of sorts. Motherbot stepped inside with the boy and it closed behind her. The wall panel closed back up before the elevator descended.

The Zvarranik then addressed Elim. "It appears we will be having an unexpected guest. There is an Order agent inside. I did not invite them, but they are still here regardless." Her tone turned bitter as she crossed her arms. She still just didn't like the fact that someone was in her house, and she sounded like she was about to scold them heartily for intruding.

With curiosity, Morph watched Motherbot leave through the hidden entrance. This was his first time in her base, although he shouldn't have been too surprised. Syndral was always prepared for everything, even the little things that no one else would have thought of. She especially took into consideration anything that could go wrong. He knew that she had her robot take the boy inside through the secret entrance because she didn't want this intruder to see that there had been a major fault on the first day.

What if she had planned everything knowing he would somehow screw something up?

He shrugged off the ridiculous thought and turned his attention to Elim (who didn't surprise him for seemingly appearing out of nowhere) and Syndral. "Seems rather unprofessional if you ask me," he added, also annoyed at the unknown agent's intrusion.