Welcome to Gaia! ::

A tepid breeze rustled through the tree branches as summer stretched forth in a hopeless attempt to fend off the quickly approaching fall.

In the midst of the forest, miles outside of Destiny City's town limits, under the cover of tall, old evergreens and a bed of trampled leaves and wild shrubs, there was a growing community of make-shift houses and clusters of tents surrounding a large, rough, wooden building like an oversized cabin. Its position remained illusive to those who were not privy to its secrets, though as it grew and expanded from month to month there came a very real danger. What began as a place of rest and recuperation, organization and planning, had become a place of shelter for many, a small neighborhood of families and individuals forced together in their time of need.

And as the war continued to cripple the forces of Order, as the number of refugees increased, the places in which they'd once found safety risked exposure.

Vigilance had to be maintained, the perimeter constantly patrolled, their energies perpetually masked by the staunch support of their tiring Guardians.

That night, as moonlight peeked through the trees, there was a noticeable increase in activity. Families retired to their dwellings, children were placed into the comfort of their beds, but in the center of camp lights flickered on in the cabin headquarters, and shadows moved beyond the curtained windows as by ones and two, threes and fours, the forces of Order gathered.

The large canteen slowly filled. A few noticeable groups clustered together, while others chose to remain scattered between them, some sitting, some standing, some lingering back along the periphery. Some had chosen to remain in civilian garb; others could not feel comfortable about their presence unless powered up. Indeed it was a motley group that assembled there that night, as all such gatherings tended to appear, but among them there seem to pass a certain understanding.

Too long they had played the victim and allowed Chaos to have its way.

It was time to act.

Naos approached the campgrounds, a place he mainly stayed to the distance of, making his presence known to his allies, a place he refused to completely move to, even when his family was still alive, when he could still somewhat visit his Dark mirror aligned friend and not have to scurry around like a rat in the dark,to visit his dear and only friend, maybe love, for even a second. He shook his head, clearing it, this was not the time to be depressed. He saw already that a sizable number of Order allies had gathered, preparing for what seemed to be the start of something great, or terrible. Naos made his presence a little more known, the small wings of his outfit fluttering just a little with that weird bell sound they would sometimes make.

At least it wasn't loud and gonging, like the last time.

She attended as Paris, not as Ganymede.

Of course, they were one in the same, but she insisted upon making the distinction. She clung to what last few threads of a normal life were allowed to her when nothing about the world proved normal. She was Paris first and foremost. She always had be. She was merely Ganymede by necessity, not by desire. Ganymede had a specific purpose, a reason for existing, and when that reason was no longer present Paris assumed that would be the end of her days as a Senshi.

A part of her looked forward to that with slowly dying hope, while the more logical part of her knew that it was very likely that day would never come. It would be a shame, she thought, if she hadn't become so involved in this life, if she'd not learned to accept what she was, and find some satisfaction in it.

She sat at one of the tables in a pair of pink scrubs, the top printed with a pattern of cartoon-ish cats. In one hand she fiddled with a rather conspicuous looking pen. Its stem was red, its top gold, and engraved upon it was a symbol many would recognize, as it was the same one that glowed upon her forehead whenever she transformed.

A heart, noticeably incomplete, which curved down and ended in a bolt of jagged lightning.

It was dangerous for her to be there. She was being monitored and knew it. Ever since her encounter with Lamorinite, she'd sensed herself being followed. Not as carefully as the General King might have liked or expected, but followed all he same. She could only evade them for so long, and only when necessity deemed that she sneak out of the city. Fortunately it had not been as difficult to come upon a clearance permit as she'd expected. 'I teach dance part-time at a studio in the next town over,' worked well enough when she had paperwork to prove it and impeccable personal references.

“Obviously we don't have many options left,” she observed, without any form of greeting or introduction. It seemed a pointless effort to make. Many of them knew her, most knew of her, and the rest would learn in time. “We're running out of time. And manpower. We should take the fight to them. Use the shock to our advantage. Remind them we won't go down quietly. They'll grow angry and sloppy.”

Royal Knight Camelot opted to come to the meeting, as he always did, powered. The librarian was helpless, without a library, without a home, but at the very least, he had something to offer when he was powered up.

He had been pondering these things for a while now. How to survive, how to win back some ground against the Negaverse. Staying in hiding, limiting their numbers, only allowed the hold of Chaos to expand, to tighten, and it seemed incredibly difficult for them to be able to exist for much longer, the way they were going now.

So, for his part, he agreed. After suffering so much loss, as they all had, he found his stance had shifted. While he still believed in purification and alternate roads to peace, if they did not make a stand for themselves, push back and take back what had so far been stolen from them, then they would have no chance at peace by any means.

It was war. Inevitably, it would always be war.

For now, though, he remained quiet and he listened, observing the others, the powered and the ones who chose not to or couldn't. Familiar and unfamiliar faces, but all deserving of a life better than the one they had been forced to endure.

(Sorry about the short post! I'm at work ;-; But uh! Camelot is there, and available if anyone wants to chill or chat.)

As she had with her own little meeting, Ida came to this one in her regalia, deciding the image was important. Orah was far less impressive than Ida, and should she need to make herself heard, wings would be the way to do it.

However... There was little for her to say as she joined the gathering as she had told her people she would. Ideas were being tossed around and she honestly had little of her own to offer. Her strength lay in support, not offense... And still the idea of killing with her own hands made her soul ache.

Gliding silently forward, the young woman took a seat near Paris, offering the other a warm smile to see her here. It had been too long, as always with the people she called friends. White wings folded closed against her lower back and the settled her hands lightly in her lap, gold bracelets catching the light and reflecting the glow off her arm.

Chris Gallo sat quietly by Paris. There were enough there who knew him as Valhalla that it didn’t matter if he was powered or not. He was there. He always would be. He kept his head down, tired eyes staring at his hands that seemed to be covered with soot no matter how much he tried to wash them. In many ways he felt older than he probably should, more weary and worn down than was normal for someone only in his mid twenties.

He hated the war just as much as the next person, but he was still convinced there had to be another way. He stubbornly held onto that hope that maybe they would find a way to end the violence without more violence, but as people started speaking up, he was once again reminded how different his opinions seemed when compared to everyone else.

There were few things he hated more than gatherings like this — they brought out the worst in people. No one was willing to set their ego aside and listen to their neighbor. Everyone spoke over each other, repeated things already addressed, refused to work things out. No one wanted to admit they were wrong.

No one wanted to put aside their own opinion, their own ideals, for a chance to survive…

Chris’s eyebrows furrowed together, his teeth clenched tightly. For so long he’d been pushing for peace, to avoid fighting, to try and find a way to accomplish their goals without needless bloodshed.

But that made him just like everyone else — refusing to give up his opinions, his ideals…

”What are our options?” he looked up, offering a small nod to Ida as she made her way over. ”What should be the goal? If we’re going to fight, we shouldn’t do so blindly. Sure, we can strike them when they least expect it, but when? How? Where?” The words seemed strange, coming from him. Anyone who had spoken to him, or even knew anything about him, would find it strange as well. He was a peaceful soul, choosing to save lives rather than any alternative.

Not certain how many or if any of the Mauvians would be present and spared to mask the occassion, or if there would be many or few to mask, Quenton arrive out of uniform from duties on Guard mixed with forage. The win of the time was coming across a couple different growths of mint- peppermint, orange mint and catmint all. The last was especially exciting and tucked away in a baggie in his shoulder sheath, held safe by the knife also kept there. A gift for furry friends.


Coming up to the meeting, it was heartening to see some were already there, already discussing. He caught the tail end of some words, recognized some of the faces from years and years past in passing if not in actual relation.

"'-fell deeds awake, fire and slaughter.
Let shield be shattered, spear be splintered,
a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises.
Death, death.....death- Ride, and ride for ruin
and the world's ending.'" The recitation felt appropriate to their situation, if not the best strategy to follow to maximize their effectiveness.

"The knife's edge comes where if we do not act, our combined strength will be too little to effect even this last city. It is already too late, as things are, to effect the Earth. Our goals must be realistic, and our strategy tight- making open our magics to each other, planing small units to maximize each others magic, and sharing what we know of the terrain to do more than just a 'siege'. "

"There's no such thing as a siege with an enemy that can teleport. There's no such thing as a siege when the city, the planet, has not in 5 years shown us proof of a door to their true Rift and true Heart of Queendom. The battle that we can effect is to raise the banner and call with the people- the common people who are discontent and to go after and remove as many weapons from the hand of Metallia as we can. "

"There are weapons in the woods to aid us- clay and pinetar mixed with gasoline can approximate Greek Fire grenades. Staves or small armor to protect against even one blow from chaos steel. There are enough of us willing to kill. Grouped with those who can't wisely, once the enemy is incapacitated hands that aren't afraid can finish the work while the meek hold the line of self defense. There are shield bearers and there are spear bearers, both have worth and use. History informs that guerrilla tactics in concert can be highly effective against greater numbers- we have the phones to communicate between groups if we can get a senshi with each task force. "

"The matter is finding who has a mind for command and getting the small groups organized and information of wheres, whens and who the best enemy targets are and how to face them diffused among the Guard, the Mainstay, the Watchers, ...everyone. "

Thank God for Mauvians. Shalott didn't saw so but she appreciated every gentle stroke of her hand over Faust's fur and missed Dogby terribly. The little pup had always been happy to see her and made her feel happy just by sight. There was something comforting about that kind of affection. So she sat with the cat and pet him, trying to calm her nerves.

He wasn't the most eloquent of speakers but he wasn't wrong.

"We need civilians to help our numbers. We can't deny there aren't many of us left."

Watchers, people just sick of the Nega regime. Maybe if they tried to make a stand others would follow suit. Revolutions had started with less but they were not without their casualties. Shalott was damn sick of those but couldn't be anything less than who she was. She needed to stand up, now more than ever.

"There's a lesson to be had from the Revolutionary war. When our forefathers fought for this country they used gorilla warfare tactics. They used knowledge of the terrain to their advantage, They stayed small and struck hard and fast taking down only a few soldiers at a time before retreating. Those of us that can't kill can use their powers to help those that can. Any advantage we can take is good. We can pair up teams by who can compliment whom."