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All Iris did was nod her head solemnly as her palm eased around the starseed, only to allow Metis to take a hold of it.

Kerberos was pretty vain about his hair, in both powered and civ form, so it meant that primarily his concern was that about three feet of extra hair just made him look absolutely fabulous.

He had never really considered that it made a very, very convenient target, until he felt a hand wrap in it and jerk him backwards. His immediate response was to kick backwards, hands moving to grab at whoever was holding onto his hair. "Let go of me, you ******** class="spoiler-wrapper spoiler-hidden">

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Ivynian

Astarte is out!

Canopus seized the lead when Astarte could venture no further, which she found surprisingly relieving. As they retreated toward the surface level, Astarte found marginally cleaner air. She still coughed to a breathless state, but by covering her mouth with the crook of her elbow, she managed her way through the warehouse well enough.

Various auric energies peeled past the pair while Canopus busted open the door to the restrooms. Astarte ducked in as soon as she could, gasping for a breath of marginally fresh air, before Canopus started speaking to her. While doubled over with hands on her knees, Astarte coughed heavily; at first she couldn't quite hear the Dark Mirror over her bout of hacking, but in a lull, she understood the gist. Looking up, Astarte watched in fascination as her friend's hand passed through the mirror completely. What witchcraft is that? Cute trick, Canopus.

After straightening up, Astarte approached the senshi and took her outstretched hand, hoping to somehow retreat through the mirror with her - to see what lay beyond its reflective surface. Instead, her knuckles only met glass when their clasped hands reached the mirror. No matter the pull from her friend, Astarte's hand simply never penetrated the surface to any appreciable extent. With a sigh, the Malice Senshi relinquished her grasp in favor of the window to her right. Small though it was, it afforded much-needed escape to outside air, clear of smoke and smog.

She had enough for one day.

After once last glance toward the mirror, Astarte kicked out the glass and crawled through the slim opening. Finally she was greeted by a landscape of fluorescent lighting.

"To murder costs all that is in a soul." The corrupt was on the ground. Step 1 was easy- take away the magic. No magic if there was no breath or no mouth. The lungs or the jaw. face and jaw were too awkward for the angle, so Thraen aimed to drive the hard stone of his boot to the man's ribs.

"Who stand by it's rule must not be borne."

Captain Schörl is takin' the lift to get outta dodge. EXIT

The active burning ceased, blessedly, but that was the trouble with bad burns- they kept active, spreading tissue damage even after application of heat had ceased. Between the steam and the radiation from her starseed, the captain had had more than enough for one body. As it was, her enemy had already moved on. All of them had, essentially.

Just a incap in the corner, not worth the trouble, she snarled to herself. It was her own fault for not being able to do more even in the face of that wretched pain. Her eyes followed to to where the little gaggle had been. They'd been guarding the winged one, a princess. So that is a princess. And they worked together efficiently enough. Friends or a team. Live and learn, and if I want to live, I need medical attention asap.

The lift was right there, even if it wasn't the best option in a fire situation. She admonished it, stumbling in and hitting the button for first floor and out, crouching low to avoid the inevitable smoke. "Work, you. At least one more time."

A cough wracked up Thraen's throat briefly, blooming more echoes in the settling heaviness in his side where the arrow was still firmly rooted. It was a memory of the more intense sensation the other eternal's magic had produced, held in check only by the aura that had filled the whole building- results of the Princess. I don't have long to deal with this. That lung is starting to fill instead of just being pierced without the rain. Step two, take the weapons.

The loss of the full coverage from his boots was a sad one, even traded to the stone soles. The corrupted's hands did hurt where they met flesh and not wood- not as much as flaying. Not as much as the arrow. There was going to be some bruising on the morrow, but Thraen only moved as his own will directed, lifting foot deliberately to try to bring it down hard one of the shoulder joints.

The next blow hit like a hammer, and Avalon was forced to yank her attention away from her ally in order to defend herself. The senshi attacking her was a super, she noted, a scarred and angry-looking girl. That was alright. Avalon still felt cold, high above everything else, and Maybe she couldn't take Valhalla's ally but she could certainly take this girl.

She didn't bother running. She closed the gap with a quick teleport. By the time she appeared in front of Penthesilea, she was already half through executing an uppercut to the senshi's jaw.

Teleporting was something that Penthesilea really needed to remember to account for. Her targets, so far, had usually been first-stage Negas, and they couldn't do that.

The uppercut sent her staggering backwards, and she shook her head, but grinned. Yes, this was a challenge. She leapt forward, leading with her elbow aimed for the General's gut.

"Nice t'have an actual challenge, for once."





Kerberos very desperately moved his good hand under the Eternal's boot, pushing up on it as a last-ditch effort to keep from having his throat crushed. He wanted to swear, to threaten, to challenge, to fight with the weapon most familiar to him, but instead he had to concentrate on breathing.

It was a last angry defiance, but Kerberos chose, with words gone and only small spiteful actions left, to spit on the Senshi who seemed likely to be his murderer.