Welcome to Gaia! ::

Aegir was perched atop some halted (and likely never to be finished, with the way the economy fluctuated thanks to "terrorist attacks") construction near the waterfront (he thought it was supposed to be an office building, then it was bought out by some hotelier who lost funding, and now it was a senshi perch with slowly rusting beams and graffiti covered cement walls - where there were walls) when he got the call from Thyrmr - only it wasn't so much a call as a call, because when he went to pick up all he heard were the sounds of violence. A distress call, s**t. What trouble has he gotten into? He didn't know if Thyrmr would hear him, but he spoke clear and loud, telling his dear friend to hold on - he was coming.

Expression set in a determined line, the Eternal looked down at his phone, at the little dot, and knew he could be there quickly. Too bad I can't actually fly huh? Wouldn't that be a trick. He thought as he set off to come to his friend's rescue (again), never once thinking about how often he did this sort of thing, only that he was so glad he could.

And when he arrived, sweat plastering short curls to forehead and scalp, he didn't hesitate for one moment though the Officer menacing his teammate had an energy signature like Schörl's - a General. But he wasn't defenseless, he could face this video game reject down. But he had to put some distance between Thyrmr and the General. Only one of his attacks could do that. Buttwings flying, Aegir came into casting range and set his magic free on the fly.

"Soundless Tranquil Ocean!" It washed over Thyrmr, but did him no harm at all, no, that was all for the General. Who would not be getting the love and justice spiel, just a very righteous and pissed Aegir's magic.

Up close and personal.

He was dimly aware of another power signature drawing nearer; dimly aware that it was Order, not Chaos, and that he was no longer alone. But Thrymr couldn't concentrate on that, or on anything else except the pain in his back and the swing of the scythe.

A shout - familiar -

- blackness was encroaching in upon Thrymr's vision now, and he could not think past the agony, the coppery taste of blood on his tongue. Nausea and dizziness warred with one another, twisted his mind so that as he caught a glimpse of golden hair, he wasn't quite sure who it was.

Just that, as usual, someone had had to step in and rescue him.

Again.

Why am I so weak? was the last thought in his mind before he closed his eyes.