Welcome to Gaia! ::

Laurelite's presence became known soon after he knelt atop Ploutonion, and she peeled him back with ease. Umber acquiesced to the gesture without complaint - the entire point of his attacking the weaseling fop was for his capture and corruption - but his gaze still spoke of the unyielding loathing he held for the liar. His retreat only lasted a handful of paces, far enough that he might survey the battlefield for any attempted interruptions, and he half-turned to settle wrathful sights upon the page.

"You don't deserve it," came his quiet rebuke.

The scream sounded familiar - drawn taut with agonies of a thousand separate kinds. It sounded much like his own scream, and as he imagined, much the same as any other scream uttered by those who joined the Negaverse. In their pain, they lost their identity. Only the decibel and tone seemed to shift between parties. Though Umber caught himself harboring a particular loathing for this scream, and consider stepping on the neck of the victim to quiet the sound, even momentarily. Nothing more than a boot press to the throat. However, Laurelite's approval for the act was paramount, and he would have none of it.

With the man now nothing more than a crumpled heap on the ground, and the myriad knights and senshi soon disappearing with the loss of a comrade, Umber's attentions shifted from the prostrate captain (a peer? This sniveling wretch became his peer?) to the General-Sovereign herself. Initially he wondered how she would take the exhaustive measures of corruption, as he was doubtless that it demanded great effort, but then a second question came to mind - with the target now unconscious, would she then choose someone to carry the burden of his dead weight? Umber would not volunteer himself for the spineless man's sake, but orders were of higher precedent than personal distaste.

His voice came steady, and unduly calm given the blistering disgust that seethed in his heart. "I can carry the target out if you need someone for the task." It was about all he had left in him after energy spent, and teleportation would be all but impossible for the pair. However, carrying the man home meant a plethora of opportunities to clip building corners with his head.

Mira saw the youma and before she knew it everything was quiet. The deed was done. He had been turned and there was nothing more they could do. While it was saddening for her. She knew whats done was done. So she turned and exited the meeting place. Since it was time for her to go do something to make her be a bit happier. Maybe make some treats. Though deep inside she knew what she'd seen today would never be forgotten.

Mira Exits.

Osiris paused and could hear the wind blowing around him. "I guess it's done," he said aloud with a sigh. Whether justice had been served or not he wasn't really sure. Then again this time around it wasn't up to him. It was upsetting they had to lose someone from they're side to the other. This whole thing was slightly a waste. Though then again maybe not. Since at least they had tried instead of just giving in. With that thought in mind he slowly headed towards the road.

Whatever the case he had class in the morning and this whole event was finally over.

Osiris exits

The aura was like the one at the gymnasium, like the one that combined Senshi and Knight meeting that the Negaverse had invaded.

Crushing and oppressive darkness. Except this time he had a face. It was one that was surprisingly delicate. Seemingly out of place from the commotion happening about her.

The aura told another story. There was nothing delicate about her aura.

Nor was there was there anything delicate with the way that she plunged her hand into the Squire's chest.

The Squire's scream was one that was going to haunt his nightmares and still she continued. Continued until there was nothing left of the Squire who had called himself Ploutonion of Saturn.

Ganymede cried out something from somewhere behind him, but Athene couldn't turn away from the scene in front of him, could do nothing but watch as the General Queen held her new minted Captain like some sort of macabre trophy and calmly told them that their fate would be either assimilation or death.

A hoarse cry from behind him had him finally tearing his eyes from the scene in front to see Ganymede had collapsed, but a blue and white garbed senshi was quicker - Chaldene making his way over to her side.

He started to follow, step by slow wooden step but paused as something plonked itself on his foot.

Or perhaps it was better to say someone, rather than something, because when he looked down he saw Liryn, the small tabby bobtail uncharacteristically silent.

He scooped up the mauvian, his movement mechanical and straightened to the sound of mocking laughter.

It was the remaining General, the one with horns and scales, her taunting words directed at Ganymede before she moved to catch up the green-haired corrupted senshi, the two of them vanishing leaving them with the youma.

Other chaotic auras were leaving too as were order ones.

It was over and tonight - this night - was undeniably the Negaverse's night.

Mont Blonc is in E3 with Methone! (Bye Haumea!)

It didn't take more than a minute for Mont Blonc to realize how badly he'd misjudged the situation when he felt that suffocating aura for the second time. This time, he could see her. "No, " he barely breathed out, and there wasn't even enough time to change trajectory. There was no time to swing back and help his fellow knight, not when his limbs felt like lead. The scene played out too fast, and still agonizingly, painfully slow. Ploutonion's scream pierced through him - the first Saturn knight he'd seen in so long -

His lips were parted like he longed to scream - maybe Ploutonion's name, maybe for her to stop - but it was too late, and then Methone was there, trying to guide him away. For a moment, he resisted, his eyes locked on the scene he'd just witnessed. But what could the page do? - the battle was already over. Chaos and order alike, everyone was just walking away.

He clung to Methone's hand, because it was what he had. But he kept glancing back over his shoulder, as though maybe something would change. - it wouldn't. What was done was done. Not for the first time, he wondered why he'd ever wanted to come back to this.

Pixie Nyxie

Puddle page is away with ye!

Noir Songbird

Mentioned! - a lot!

The Space Cauldron

Mentioned! - a bit!

(Umber exit)

Umber offered no backtalk to his superior. Inwardly he seethed that Ploutonion - Ashanite - was treated so well when he very obviously loathed the thought of becoming a Negaverse officer. Were those who committed themselves to the ranks somehow worth less than a knight who never wanted to join in the first place? Umber could not afford to chance that conclusion. He allowed himself no time to dwell on it. Laurelite gave an order, and he would pursue it without question.

And he did. The weary captain seized the crumpled Ashanite by the arm and hauled him upward, wrapped him about his shoulders military-style, and started toward the nearest, safest route he could think of that led back to the apartment. No energy remained for teleportation, certainly not with two bodies. And Ashanite's dead weight was a burden that he needed to carry the pair of miles back to his residence - unless he could radio Xenotime for assistance.

That idea was quickly dismissed.

There were benefits in calling on her. Xenotime maintained her energy, having never participated in this acquisition, thus she could teleport the pair without batting an eye. She could lessen his burden significantly with that blessedly convenient ability and save him great pains. And Umber would have radioed her without a second thought if he were still a lieutenant - but as a captain, he expected himself to be capable to manage this feat on his own. What good was he if he deferred to the easier route constantly and then his duties demanded that he toil and sweat in the face of danger? Perhaps it was an exaggeration brought on by exhaustion, but it didn't matter. He would handle it.

So he parted from the battle, through the long paths ahead. He heard screams, lessening attacks, and the battle petered out behind. He was too tired to give notice.