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Destiny City was overcast that day and despite it being late Summer, a cool breeze wafted through the air. Outwardly, it might have appeared that Destiny City had taken on a somber mood, but City Hall was decorated warmly. The Mayor of Destiny City, General King Kenisite, stood at the podium. Behind him, a slew of General Kings and Queens stood.

Cameras were lined up around the room and the press was buzzing. City Hall Announcements were not uncommon, but every one was treated with as much buzz as the first.

General King Kenisite was as charismatic as they came; he was a tall, lightly tanned male who had run for office a little over a year ago. He was the first Negaverse officer to run under his Negaverse-given name; the public had no idea who was hiding behind that glamour. But, it didn't matter. The public loved him then, and the majority seemed to love him now. He had an overwhelming support from the patrons of Destiny City, and back when he had been voted into the position, the competition hadn't stood a chance. But, then again: the others running for Mayor back then had been a bit lacking, and for whatever strange reason, all the other candidates seemed to lose interest or meet grim fates.

Kenisite shifted positions in front of the podium, brushing a strand of bright red hair behind his ear. He was smiling already, offering a brief wave to the crowd. The number of civilians who grinned and waved back might have unnerved anyone who knew what hid behind the smiles and justice distributed by the Negaverse.

Everyone was bustling around; the room was crowded and full of people eager to hear this announcement. There were sentries, trusted Generals, guarding the doors and ensuring that no stray Senshi or Knight wandered in uninvited. Not that any one of them should be so foolish as to walk into a crowded room lined with some of the Negaverse's strongest.

The soft murmur of a gossiping crowd and the clicking of cameras was the only noise for a long moment, and then Kenisite raised his hand to silence and address the crowd. The cameras were rolling.

"Good afternoon, Destiny City," he greeted warmly. "I'm so happy to see you all here. And for those of you who couldn't make it," he smiled to a camera. "I hope to see you next time."

There were no cards in front of him; Kenisite spoke from his mind—or, his heart, as his campaign had stated. He was a clever enough man to stay on his toes without prompts. "We have a few things I'd like to go over. Safety reports, terrorist claims, energy donations. As most of you know, we've taken a very strong stand against the terrorists destroying our city. We've made massive strides in eradicating this issue and ensuring the safety of our citizens, but we've been getting an increase in reports of suspicious activities late at night. At this point in time we are not issuing a mandatory curfew, however this is a possibility we are going to have to keep open for the future. Instead, we'd like to request the continued cooperation of the fine citizens of Destiny City."

There was no hesitation when he spoke, and he addressed the cameras as if speaking to a small group of friends. "For the next few weeks, we're going to need to impose a revised system for Civilian Donations. We apologize for the inconvenience, however please know that you will be compensated for your time and energy. All energy donation centers are going to be open for twenty four hours and we are going to ask the patrons of Destiny City to adjust their schedules to meet a new quota. As per usual, all energy donations will be compensated with a monetary reward and will be given a raffle ticket. I'll have General Queen Sakuradite provide the details for that in a little bit. There are also going to be some changes in security measures, but to go over those I'm going to let General King Kedavradite take the podium for a moment. If you have questions, please hold them for a few moments. We'll be accepting inquiries soon."

Kenisite offered one last, brief wave and smile before he took a step backwards and nodded for Kedavradite to replace him.

General-King Kedavradite was next to take the stand. His uniform sported many medals, all of which denoted his service to the Negaverse. He displayed them proudly, as well as a pin that denoted his rank as Chief of Police. While he did not smile, he kept a pleasant face about him, knowing they needed the support and the cooperation of the civilians to take down the senshi and knights once and for all.

"As our mayor has stated, their will be a few new security measures set in place for your safety. As you all know, there are still terrorists at large and we at the police station work around the clock to ensure you are safe from them, but that is not enough.

As of today you will need a clearance permit to leave the city. be it for work or leisure, for we have all experience the loss of loved ones simply vanishing without a trace. We need to make sure all of our citizens are accounted for at all times. Anyone caught leaving the city without a clearance permit will be detained and questioned, and very likely fined. We are taking terrorist activity very seriously," he said, British accent still prominent as he stressed the consequences of being caught trying to leave the city without a permit.

"As always, we need your help to bring the terrorist to justice. Our hotline for leads on terrorist activity is always open. Any tips or leads that result in the capture of a terrorist will be handsomely rewarded with a hefty monetary sum. If you see something, say something. The number is 1-800-END FEAR or you can go online to file a report at www. endfear .com/terrorwatch," he said appealing to the pockets of the citizens listening and watching.

"And lastly the police department is always looking for a new recruits who wish to serve of city and protect it from danger. Open enrollment will begin next week and any citizen looking to join should stop and in speak to one of our trusted lieutenants."

A woman stepped up to join Kedavradite at the podium; she looked more like a flunky than a General-Queen, but those present and powered could feel the aura she put off in conflict with her understated appearance. Blue hair in a bun at the back of her head, grey double breasted coat, knee high boots... General-Queen Shadeite was the picture of the vague 'Negaverse Officer' stereotype. Everything about her was 'average' and 'plain', in fact the only distinction she seemed to hold among the others was in being one of the youngest of them.

When the General King relinquished the microphone to her, she settled with her hands clasped behind her back, eyes cast downward when she spoke in a clear, soft voice.

"An update has been made to the Most Wanted list and the associated rewards for capture of these terrorists, or information that leads to their capture, has been increased." Shadeite said in a monotone voice, her lack-luster presentation making it perhaps a bit hard to attend to what she was saying. "As always, the monetary reward is greater for those of a higher rank and capture of someone of fourth rank is triple that of a third. Officers who produce information leading to capture will also find their status increased. Metallia rewards those among her ranks who show initiative and an eagerness to uphold the ideals of the Negaverse."

The end of her announcement saw pale blue eyes lifted from the podium where they had been resting to sweep the crowd with a surprisingly piercing gaze. "As always... those who aid terrorism hurt all of us. Those found to have given shelter to known terrorists or in any way impeded our efforts to rid the city of their menace face severe fines and punishment... it is your duty as citizens of Destiny City to help us in ridding the city of these invaders. Thank you."

Shadeite seemed to retreat with the murmured gratitude, loosing whatever edge she'd had through the end of her announcements and dropping her eyes once more. She disappeared back into the line of General-Kings and Queens, hands still clasped together and boots neatly set.

Once Kedavradite was away from the microphone, he was replaced by a much less physically imposing figure. In fact, the short girl with dark pink hair had to drag over a small box to stand on, which might have been embarrassing if she would let it be. She adjusted the microphone and smiled brightly out at the crowd.

General-Queen Sakuradite had come to Destiny City from Japan, and immediately gone about the work of setting up a science division in Destiny City’s Negaverse. Most of her work took place behind closed doors, but rumors circulated anyway. No one particularly wanted to fall into Sakuradite’s hands, because sure, you’d die - after being subject to long, painful experimentation. For science.

She was still smiling when she started speaking.

"Good afternoon, everyone!” She said, clapping cheerily. “As our dear wonderful Mayor said, we will be asking you to donate energy once every two weeks instead of once every three! I know, I know, it’s a difficult burden, but we all have to bear it so that the Negaverse can continue to keep us safe!” Her tone was perky, bubbly, energetic, matching with the enthusiasm that seemed to radiate off her.

"Never fear, though! Your sacrifice is not in vain! Every energy donor will receive fifty dollars, and of course you’ll be entered in the raffle to receive our grand prize of one million dollars! So let’s all do our best to help out!”

Sakuradite bounced off her box, scooping it up and skipping back to the group of assembled General-Kings and General-Queens.

Kenisite remained in the background for only a second after Sakuradite returned to her place. His warm smile was back in place as he reacquainted himself with the podium. "Thank you two, much appreciated. Now, I know many of you have questions you've been holding on to, so I'd like to open the floor for a bit so you're not all squirming in your seats. Please, we'll pass microphones around if you've got a question. Anyone?"

The hem of his hood hung low, blotting out the majority of the clear skies overhead, but offered well-needed shelter against the unconscionably blazing brightness. As one normally confined to the depths of darkness, to trawl the alleyways in the dead of night while searching out what few remain of the resistance, he found no love or tolerance for the penumbras of jaundiced lamplight. Yet here, under an obligatory attendance to the public announcement, the creature seethed with the burning ache constantly throbbing behind his eyes. No amount of heavy black cloth cast enough of a shadow to ease the constant burden on his ocular faculties. Instead he seethed quietly, tainting the air with a host of exasperated sighs while he counted the seconds until his return to darkness.

"If zey would just declare ze damnable curfew..." The creature muttered under its breath. As he groaned in listening to the stilted positives and platitudes offered by their speech, so too did the host of faces steeped in tar. From behind the cloak, given his perch, he claimed a prime view of his peers that offered weighted nets of sanctuary for the masses that they yet defended for reasons beyond him. With the war nigh but won, they bolstered mandatory energy draining - however, these decisions poised their own seeds of fear for civilian hearts.

Likely those looking at the draining consider that we may yet be losing, and now operate under a delicate farce that the Negaverse is still on top of the situation. Oh Metallia, I do hope you rid the world of these wretches and reduce this city to a true home for Chaos.

Bischofite shifted beneath the swaths of cloak clinging to his shoulders and ruined wings, shrugging in the process. He wrapped arms about himself while he listened to the dregs of the speech, quirking an eyebrow in lukewarm surprise that Shadeite participated in the affair. The rest, however, stood as well-loved icons for the public to identify with, despite the roiling chaos in their hearts. If nothing else, Bischofite appreciated the careful manipulation tactics set in place to placate the masses of would-be senshi or would-be knights.

"Persephoneeeeeeee," he started in drawn tones, "do you sink zey will offer such concessions? I expect zat, wis' increased energy drains, ze public might find zemselfs too tired to trundle around during my hours of operation. It would proof' a tausend times more useful if zey would simply institute ze damnable curfew so I might hunt in peace." Speaking with the corrupted Queen proved stilted in the past years, due to their equally tattered past, but talk of their mutual work aspects often skirted around such tensions.

"Do you ever dream of a sunless world, Persephone?" He paused, all shifting movements ceased while he listened to the first questions. "I suspect zat one is prying into affairs better left in ze dark."

Being here was nerve wracking, but at the same time, the gathering had seemed an ideal place to look for Matthew and gather information on new enemy movements.

Tucked back near an exit, Orah used her moderate height to place herself behind taller people where she felt less exposed, brown eyes wide as she watched the General-Kings step forward to deliver worrying announcements. Increased energy donations? Clearance permits to leave the city? The noose was cinching tighter every day around the necks of Order, it seemed... the cracks through which the whole faction operated getting thinner and more dangerous. They were going to need to discuss the permits for sure, because freezing traffic in and out of the city would virtually cut off their supply lines.

The young woman shifted nervously and then stilled again, trying to remember that she was trying to blend into the crowd. Dangerous to call attention to herself... brown eyes lighted on Paris when she pulled together the courage to ask questions, worry making her lips thin and her hands go white knuckled. Any senshi or knight who stayed in the city made her worry, but it was a needful danger... they couldn't simply abandon their posts to the Negaverse mercy. Be careful, Paris...

Darting her eyes away, Orah swept the crowd for what felt like the hundredth time, searching for a familiar brown or color-streaked-black head. Matthew... He'd been missing for so long, she had no idea if he looked the same any more, or what he had gotten himself mixed up in. Hope squeezed steel bands around her heart; hope that he was simply living as a civilian, hope that he was safe... hope that he wasn't dead with so many of the others. It was that hope alone that kept her going, sometimes... She honestly didn't know what she would do if something had happened to her little brother, the only family she had left.

Officially she was on "crowd control." Officially she was to look out for those of Order and bring them to heel before they interrupted anything. Officially she was to do her duty.

Screw that.

General Andronicus rolled a shoulder and leaned against the building. Her perch was two stories up on a fire escape, hidden in an outcropping. She was still 'on duty' but not watched like a hawk. It had been two years since she'd been corrupted into the Negaverse. Two years since she'd lost her wonder, lost her home, and three since she'd lost her Sentinels to death and chaos. Two years since her life had imploded. How she hated it.

The former Knight of Andronicus watched the crowds below her quietly. The first months had been hectic and chaos. With no civilian memories, she'd adopted the name Ayrrin and been ushered into the glory that was Chaos. She quickly learned that ruthlessness and keeping your mouth shut was the way to survive here. But she was jaded. She'd been forced into this. She wanted no part of it. Her anger and desire for vengeance on the one who corrupted her kept most of the brain washing out of her. Being on the winning side had it's benefits, but she looked upon 'her' General Kings and Queens with a gaze of distain. What they'd turned Destiny City into, the world into, was not what she wanted.

General Andronicus sighed and crossed her arms. She wanted out. Emerald eyes looked down the crowd; if Order was here, which she didn't put it past them, they were blending in. While others had weapons, and their prince or princess forms, she chose to just be the fly on the wall. She shifted her cloak and pulled out a small phone from her belt. She flipped it open and tapped the screen a few times before holding it up to her ear.

"Oi, Loke, you awake?" she said quietly, thankful the sun was not shining today. Terms with the DMC were rough with the Negaverse, and she rather liked living at the moment. No need to be youmaed because she was allied with the DMC. Hence why she did "Dark Mirror Court Relations" work. Perfect cover.

"It's Devlin right now, blue-babe," was the drawling response back on the other end of the line. The twenty-five year old in question stood with his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, a cloth hood thrown over his head to somewhat mask the fact he had a Bluetooth piece, though he largely kept himself visible to the rest of the crowd. Even as he lingered towards the back. No need to have someone questioning why he was standing around looking like a classic thug. Though. If things got bad enough, he supposed it helped being on the phone with a General. In theory.

He was being a good citizen though, attending the media display and listening with oh so pointed attention to their overlo-- mayor. It'd been hard to keep his expression under control though to hear the freaking energy "donations" would be increased. Could he get out of that? Donate another way? Preferably, energy that wasn't his? Mentally, he made a note to bring that up with a certain blond later--anything he could get out of in this situation, he'd play whatever card it freaking took. To the woman on the line though, he kept his thoughts relatively in check. "So where are you? Because you're obviously not down here with me." He was keeping his gaze mostly on the directions where a woman's voice rose up ask her questions, not skimming the rooftops or the various Negaverse faces looking for Andronicus. There was a reason he didn't identify her, and even her contact information on his phone didn't call her anything other than "BlueBabe." The old nickname stuck, and so long as no one knew Devlin Levasseur was, in fact, Dark Mirror Eternal Loke, who cared who he called what? It was one thing to be seen around her without uniforms, even by other Negaverse agents. He wasn't risking anything powering up too close to her or his apartment. "Thoughts on the weather~?"

Bullshit. He wanted to know what the ex-Knight thought of the announcements of the day. He was keeping his fingers crossed for no curfew. It'd just screw up his nights more than they already were. The permit? He could work with that. Mandatory curfew? He'd have to set up a few more mirrors in the meantime.






Perhaps the largest downfall of wearing a dark uniform was that unless you apparently got lucky in the design department, they didn't usually breath too well. Seraphinite rolled his shoulders, the pale feathers there ruffling slightly by the movement. Pale eyes peered up towards the overcast sky, at least somewhat relieved it wasn't a direct noon sun on him. He could stand comfortable enough not far from where the General-Kings and Queens stood, keeping more of an eye on the gathered crowd. A part of him--larger than he might like to admit--almost hoped to feel that twinge on his senses, the speck of Order to signal someone was in the area. Attacking. Getting a better vantage point to spy. He didn't care the reason. He wanted an excuse to move beyond his only current option--pacing.

Pacing. Jericho rarely paced as it was. General Seraphinite? Less so. He wasn't the type to get the jitters or anxious tendencies. He even found himself tapping his foot earlier and debated if it was possible he was getting a form of heat stroke. Maybe he needed to drink more water? Had he eaten anything that morning? That was a no, actually. Resisting the urge to rub at his eyes, biting his tongue when General-Queen Sakuradite spoke about the greater donation requirements. Why she spoke in such a... chipper manner was beyond him, and he had to smother a scowl against how the sweet voice grated his system. Tell them straight--the Negaverse, the people who were paraded around as so-called-heroes, needed more energy. Supply it, or they couldn't protect the people and their loved ones. Why put on the extra show?

There was a reason Seraphinite never went into HR or PR divisions. It required flashy words and twisted tales. Omissions he could accept and dish out easily, and often did when he was required to speak to citizens, but the extent the public faces of their organization went to... Made his skin crawl.

Restless hands came to linger on the leather belt that held the blades at his side. Metal was twisted and jagged closer to the hand-guard, forming feathers that were as painful for victims to feel piercing them as they were being ripped back out. A few cautious eyes close to him drifted to the weapons, but no one seemed to flinch away. For a moment, Seraphinite found himself wondering if some of them had become... almost too accepting of the Negaverse.

Kedavradite looked to the mayor briefly as the first question was posed as to say that he could explain before stepping forward to answer the young blonde's question. He studied her for a moment, being one who wasn't too fond of questions he wanted to remember her. To most it might look like he was gathering his thoughts, but that was hardly the case.

"That is a good question miss. In order to obtain a clearance permit to leave the city you will need to make a visit to city hall and fill out the necessary paperwork. Unless applying for a child under the age of 13, an individual must apply in person, with a guardian for anyone between the ages of 13-17. The individual will be required to provide proof of identity and citizenship, so please make sure to bring the proper forms of identification. They must also provide proof of needing to leave, schooling documentations and employment verification are examples, as well as for our business ladies and gentleman, passports, plane tickets, hotel reservations and business addendums. Each need for clearance will be evaluated on a need based priority and may take anywhere from a day up to two or three weeks. If you are granted a permit, it may last up to six months and the permits duration will also be need based."

He stepped away from the microphone and looked to Sakuradite to answer the remainder of the young blondes question allowing his eyes to roam the crowds watching silently, really ready to return to the police department and go through the days reports, check up on the new recruits and make a visit to the cyber squad.

She knew what she was doing. Anabel thought that every time she rolled through the prison to repair a broken inhibitor, every time Sakuradite handed her a new Rift crystal to work with, every time she saw what she had done--and she had done much to help the Negaverse get where they were, she knew she had. It was only her physical infirmity and value that kept her from mouldering in an early grave, and...

The black signet ring on her finger itched, but she'd long ago mastered the urge to scratch at it. No one close to her had corrupted, but that didn't mean... that didn't mean they wouldn't. And someone would be able to see the winged Mercury symbol when they did... and they'd know then.

Anabel took a deep breath. They didn't know now. She was still a beloved pet. Her dangerous game continued to roll onwards, inexorable, as she bided her time.

She didn't rise from her seat, or raise her hand. She was known to the General-Sovereigns, all of them; they understood her limits. "How does this affect those of us on the no-drain list," she called out. It wasn't as if she had an excess of time to give the Negaverse; she already worked as much as her frail body could stand, and the stress of her double life was already leading her doctor to advise them to cut down on that. Like she was going to relay that to them, right? Right.

Marlo had perfected the look of disinterested, unaffected and overall uncaring years ago. He'd learned it as a youth, and now he was to hold it as his eternal mask while eking out what living he could. It was a game of chicken. Go until you backed down. Keep playing until they cut off your head. For Marlo, it was a game he doubted would en in anything but tragedy.

Yet he had his priorities, he had his mask- and to keep it, he had to play his part. And what an easy way to do so when riding the coattails of another concerned citizen. "It's not just small businesses that take the hits either. Tourism is not the most ideal of businesses in this city but it's one that is none the less part of any city's economy and it relies heavily on open commerce and commute. I've been a longtime investor here and while its been difficult these past few years, I'd rather not be forced to shut down due to travel permits for those coming to the city only to find they can't leave. Even if I had to shut my main business down- I still have several fashion boutiques that cater to richer clientele. If this means I'd have to raise my prices... I might end up having to pull all my resources from the city entirely due to a lack of profit. Again, I'd rather not like to take such drastic measures, but as the owner of several branches of business here, even I can't see under these circumstances how I'm supposed to make a profit."

His face slid to the form of a very upset business man.
He learned that face from his uncle.