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Name: Ilian/Jet
HP: 25
Physical Attack left: 5
Power Attack left: 2
Status: None
Potions: None
Jet stared at Aquamarine, taken aback by the odd the comment came across, but now wasn’t really the time to delve into things that sounded stranger than they were really meant. Instead, he took to frowning in frustration at the other’s insistence in helping him, but couldn’t really argue when Aquamarine pointed out that he could hardly do anything on his own.

He hated that. He nearly pulled away from the other as he was helped back to his feet and worked on putting some distance between them and the youma.

“No…” he admitted when asked if he’d seen anything like it. “It’s more… human looking than the ones I’ve seen.” Of course, he knew both he and Aquamarine were new at all this, but why hadn’t they seen others like this before?

Name: Valhalla
HP: 35
Physical Attack left: 3
Power Attack left: 0/2
Status: None
Potions: None
Kyrie was more than happy to spread her wings and another bolt of lightning ripped through the air as she hovered over the youma on her way back to Valhalla. She swooped down to perch on his shoulder just long enough for him to reach up and stroke the ghostly feathers before her time there was up, and she shifted back into a more gaseous substance and was drawn back into the pocket watch in his hand.

Valhalla knew this was hard on Ganymede, and the desperation to save as many people as she could outweighed her own need for safety. “Ganymede,” he called to her, wanting her to not just focus on the battle, but those around her who cared about her and loved her. She wasn’t fighting alone. “Can you see any weak points?” he asked as an aside to both Alexandria and Ganymede, trying to get a feel for this youma as many other senshi and knights attacked it.

It was possible, in the grand scheme of things, for Lazarus to be drunk enough to mistake a small woman encouraging him to leave the bar for a bouncer trying to tell him he was cut off for the evening. Those sorts of mistakes, while they didn't happen often, did happen. So -- as a result -- he'd just been spending his time enthusiastically slurring his way through emphatic explanations of how drunk he wasn't and how many more drinks he could definitely have before he became a danger to himself and others.

And then, eventually, he'd tilted his head at the woman like an RCA Victor dog, shirt tied over his face, and said, "I don't think this shirt thing was a sobriety test. That's not a real thing. You're not a cop or a security guard at all, are you?"

That was about the time when the floor opened up and a huge-a** monster popped out of it, looking mad as a bear.

It was possible, yes, for Lazarus to be drunk enough to mistake this woman for a bouncer. And that was pretty drunk. But it was not actually possible for Lazarus to reach a level of inebriation where he mistook a youma for anything else.

"Okay, you know what," he interrupted himself. "Scratch that question. We're getting out of here. Do you do piggy back rides? Like, you on me, not vice versa. Because I think I need you to navigate."

He wanted to leave, hopefully without powering up. Lazarus wasn't even sure he had the wherewithal to manage it if he had to.

Name: Anabel Au (Mistral Squire)
HP: 15
Physical Attack left: 5/5 [1d6] (2d12)
Power Attack left: (2/2) (2d20)
Status: Just fine thanks
Potions: N/A

There was a bunch of s**t happening, people powering up. Anabel considered it, but even with the thickness of the fog she didn't really trust that no one would see. Just because she had the power didn't mean she had to actually use it. Also, last time she'd transformed was because she'd been kidnapped to an alien planet. Not exactly a state she wanted to court again. "It wasn't a sobriety test," she said. "I did... was working on... my master's in disaster response."

So, responding to the disaster, she nodded. "Yes! We are, in fact, getting out of here. And part of that is not dying to death because of neurotoxin and a giant monster, so--"

Anabel was twenty-four years old, she thought. She was a murderer, or at least a manslaughterer, and in the far-flung future she would be a traitor and a spy. The only person allowed to give her piggybacks was Babylon, and only when they were chasing down a youma.

In this case, she would have to make an exception. "Yes. Sure. Let me up and I'll be the GPS to your Range Rover, tall guy."



*

Name: Colchis Page of Mars
HP: 25
Physical Attack left: 4/5 1d12
Power Attack left: 2/2 1d20
Status: Just fine thanks!
Potions: N/A

The youma popped up and Islay screamed, because it was big, and also because she still didn't know where her dad was. She'd already faced the foster care system once, and if this monster hurt her father... Colchis's glamor settled over her like gossamer fabric, fading into the leather and chainmail of her uniform.

Her positioning on the stage (oh, if only she'd grabbed up the orange-haired girl!) meant she had a bunch of easily improvisable weapons... She'd always wanted to smash a guitar over someone's head, anyway. And a youma was just as good!

For now, she grabbed a microphone stand and swung it at the giant... flowery... thing.

*

Name: Lt. Bolton
HP: 25
Physical Attack left: 5/5 1d12
Power Attack left: 2/2 1d20
Status: Just fine
Potions: None

Romaine saw the youma and transformed, thinking that that might protect her. The gas mask, at least, would keep her from falling to any airborne pathogens. "I believe now is a tactical time to transform," she said, setting Suri down. "Orders, Captain?"

Name:Sailor Bohlinia
HP: 20
Physical Attack left: 5/5
Power Attack left:2/2
Status: None
Potions: None

Lexi felt the arms of the victim to her fall come to her aid, pulling her up onto the chairs with strained effort. She tried to help but her legs felt like lead, her lungs like molten rock as she breathed in and gasped at the thick air around her. She couldn't believe the person above her had the strength to not only pull her up but to remain upright themselves. She hadn't even the strength to look up and see her rescuer, her head flopping forwards and seeing only the clothes they wore. She heard words, or what sounded like words being spoken, calming, gentle, encouraging. And then, before she knew what was happening. She was encased in a beautiful light.

It was over as soon as it struck and Lexi was left blinking, dancing spots before her eyes. Had there been an explosion? No...that was impossible, she could still hear and the girl before her was still talking to her, encouraging her to move to higher ground. She startled when she saw it, the girls clothes, no longer the plain look of a normal person, but the fine detailing of a Sailor fuku. Her rescuer...was a Senshi.

"Oh-h, t-thank y-ou (cough)" She was about to say more when a deafening sound ripped through the concert hall and the very floor started dropping beneath their feet. Lexi screamed, clinging onto the Senshi that held her and pushing with all her might to remove herself from the epicenter of the chaos. She just had time to catch sight of a clawed hand reaching out of the rubble and darkness before a cloud of dust and fog covered them. She dropped to the floor, her grasp on the Senshi's arm being ripped from her as she fell between the chairs. Her hands and knees splitting open from the impact as she landed on broken mortar and stone. She stayed in the position for what felt like hours when only seconds would had passed, her mind catching up to the events that were happening around her. This was a Youma attack! The Negaverse must have planned the whole thing and now it had finally reared its ugly head! She looked up, the madness flowing all around her as people ran though the ebbing fog, jumping over the chairs and stumbling all around her. She could change too. Just like that other senshi. She could help, even if it was just the two of them she could help!

Pulling the henshi pen from out her pocket she grasped it to her chest and shouted out her words of transformation, her own light adding to those around her.

*~*

Name: Corrupt Eternal Sailor Ate
HP: 30
Physical Attack left: 5/5
Power Attack left: 2/2
Status: None
Potions: None

Harley had been dancing like a loon before the fog had reached ridiculous levels. Now she couldn't see her fellow idiots around her and before long she could heard the shouts and screams of panic as people stopped being able to see the stage and felt the tremors beneath their feet.

A very cold sweat broke out down her ******** had been no mission today. No indication of an attack, and if there was the Negaverse Generals were going about it the wrong way. Being apart of this world for so long she knew her enemies as well as her allies were all around her hidden behind their glamor of civilian attire. What ever was happening right now this was neither planned or scheduled.

And as the shriek of the Youma reached her ears, Harley's heart skipped a beat.

"Double ******** panic she had felt after opening the rift door was nothing to what she felt now. She had thought the escaped youmas would stay within the rift relinquishing their freedom and hopefully not catching too many Lt's in their journeys. But as the floorboards cracked beneath her feet she realized that was all but a pipe dream. They were finding their way to the surface. They were finding their way ********!" Pulling out her Henshi pen she spoke the immortal words of transformation and pulled the chaos into her being, her clothes and hair reacting to the power and changing. Harley had long ago giving up caring what people saw and as Sailor Ate now stood in her place she cared even less.

She jumped back from the hole at her feet in time to escape the hands that grabbed and pulled itself through the floorboards. The Youma was massive, towering way above the heads of everyone here and it screamed its black fury at those now surrounding it. Ate could just about see through the fog now, the colours of Senshi appearing as they started throwing attacks towards it. She didn't know if she recognized any of them but it wasn't the time to start questioning identities. This Youma would attack them all, even the agents, even her.

*~*

Name: Lyssa
HP: 30
Physical Attack left: 5/5
Power Attack left: 1/1
Status: None
Potions: None

Lyssa hadn't even realized the other cat had left as she continued to speak about the building crying and thusly asking the building what was wrong with it. In answer it started throwing dust and debris towards her, the thundering noise of the ground tearing up confirming its misery and pain.

"Oh YoU Poor builDIng! I WiLL Help, I wiLL heLP!"

She ran in the same direction as Carmen, her paws slipping on what was left of the tarnished floorboards before coming to a stop beside broken bricks. She felt the change in auras, like twinkling stars all around her as the humans transformed into their real self's. Even Ate, she could feel the spike of chaos infecting the air for a moment before being drowned out by the chaos in the center of the room. She hissed, her fur standing up on end as she battered a paw in the air in front of her, her teeth bared to the youma that emerged from the ground.

"HISSSSSS FoUl ThiNG! RefUSED ThE GoddESSeS PAth! YoU Will SubMIT!!"

Name: Eternal Sailor Ganymede
HP: 30 – 6 = 24
Physical Attack left: 5/5
Power Attack left: 2/2
Status: N/A
Potions: Health

Too close. She was too close.

Ganymede should have realized this sooner, but in the heat of the moment she'd not been paying quite as much attention as she should have, and she took a hit for her negligence. It knocked the breath from her lungs as she hit the ground, but she was up quickly. She didn't care to leave an even bigger opening for the youma to make use of.

Name: Oort
HP: 25
Physical Attack left: 5/5
Power Attack left: 2/2
Status: N/A
Potions: None

The bag had flown forward when he released it, but it hadn't gone far. Perhaps he hadn't swung it enough or perhaps he had let it go too soon... Either way the bag had flown forward only a small distance before dropping to floor with a dull thud.

Not that Oort had had much time to do much as the monster thingy had chosen that moment to shriek again, the sound followed by the noise of cracking and something - okay make that lots of somethings - shattering.

And then the thing was spitting something at him, black gobs of something - lots and lots of them and icky with it and whilst Oort wasn't sure what it was, he knew he didn't want it to touch him - didn't want it anywhere near him.

He ducked to the ground and the thing - whatever it was - sailed harmlessly over his head. He could hear the sounds of it - well he was assuming it was it - spattering somewhere and whilst he wasn't sure where it had ended up he was glad that it was not on him.

[Rolling injury dice for Glitnir- actual post coming separately due to attack dice]