"Sir?" He looks up at the knock on his door, smiling to him in greeting, and sets his book aside. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, yes, come in Sablo." The new elect steps cautiously into the Captains room, his fingers curled tightly, nervously, and Nisroc stands from his reclining position on his bed. "Close the door behind you, please."

"Sir," he does as he's told timidly. His mind whirling as he tries to remember if he'd done anything to cause any trouble. He'd had a hard time keeping up in training that morning, but the Archangel had still been impressed, and the others had promised to help him, no one had seemed mad. "Am I—Am I in trouble?"

"Of course not." He tilts his head in confusion. "Why would you be in trouble?"

"I—I messed up in training today."

"We all have off days." The Captain shrugs it off lightly. "It doesn't make you any less suitable for your gifted position. Abe did good in finding you. You're humble, you don't know how truly talented you are, and that's what we look for. We don't need someone who thinks they're undefeatable. You know your limits and you acknowledge them." He gestures for him to come closer. "The ceremony isn't until next week. But it's been decided. You're one of us."

"Then…Then why did you want to see me?" Sablo inches forward carefully, cautiously, until the Captain's fingers curl over his shoulders and guide him around gently. He sighs in content when his fingers dig in, easing the tension free, and he sags under his touch.

"Because, I could see how tense you were from a mile away." He digs into a particularly stubborn knot. "You need to relax. You're not going anywhere. You are one of mine, and I take care of what's mine, you need to calm down."

"You mean you're not going to kick me away?"

"Heaven's no." He massages at the base of his neck. "We all struggled with the training at first, but with help, you'll learn to keep up. There's no shame to be had. You're still young."

The older Power pokes his side experimentally. "And if you can't calm yourself then I'll have to help you." He smiles lightly as the young elect jolts lightly, leaning away from his hand, and he pokes him again. "As your Captain and your older brother." He dug a few fingers into his side experimentally and the elect under his hands shrieked lightly. "This is indeed an interesting find."

Sablo looks down at the arm that curls around his waist, he hasn't been in such a position since he was a small fledgling, and to think he was in this position again, and under the hands of the Captain of the Powers was almost too much for his mind to comprehend.

"Does this side make you shriek too?" Fingers dig into his left side, and he jumps, shrieking just as much as he had with the other. The Captain chuckles behind him in amusement. "It does. Very good."

"Sihihir?"

"Don't call me that here." He wiggles a finger in his right side and the younger angel squirms lightly, biting his lip. "Not in our home. My name's Nisroc." Another finger joins the one and it nearly breaks him. "Or Nis, everyone calls me Nis around here, you can call me that." Five fingers poise dangerously over his side. "Now, lets see if I can get that laughter you keep biting back out of you." Five fingers skitter up his side and he loses it, bending forward, over the arm wrapped around his waist, laughter exploding from him in torrents. His Captain's chuckles fill in the empty spaces between his fits of boisterous laughter. He had never imagined in his entire lifetime that he would ever find himself in this position with this particular angel. It's almost incomprehensible. But all he can focus on is the fingers dancing over his side.

"There it is!" The arm around his waist slowly uncurls and he makes to step forward, when it suddenly appears again, tugging him back against his Captain. "You step away from me and the tunic comes off."

The mere thought of having ten fingers dancing up and down his bare sides is enough to make him plant himself to the spot, using every ounce of strength he has to keep himself rooted there, lest he see how truly merciless his new Captain might be.

"Good choice."

Five fingers, on either side, poise themselves at the ready.

"Let's see what this does, shall we?"

Least to say, when they begin their dance, he jumps away from him. As promised, the Captain wrestles him out of his tunic, and he puts up as good a fight as he can but finds himself laying tunicless over his Captains bed anyway.

He's unashamedly squealing as five fingers spider up and down his left side and a bearded face burrows into his right.

Sablo doesn't care that the others might hear them, they've all been on the other side of the Captain's tortures, he's seen some of it himself, part of him knows he should have known that his time was coming too.

He's too focused on the—By Father! Not there! Anywhere but there!