Faustite watched the cat go, snorting mild mirth at Haymitch's offense. "Too bad no one beats them," he commented offhand to Jet. The cats might learn some deference that way.
xxx
Five minutes passed. Whatever the state of the room, Faustite delved into the summary. "We're gathered to hunt a youma. Elusive thing, with abilities unique enough to warrant a Sovereign's attention. It shifts shape and hides in its surroundings. Its transformations are gradual, thus imperfect. Axinite wants its scales and we will deliver them.
"Youma scouts reported its last known transformation — something like an archaeopteryx with a serpentine lower half. We're looking for a permutation of that."
The flameborn General nodded toward the poster-sized depiction — quite like a giant keloid of earth, but with a deep crack in its center. "Scouts said it's been resting in a zone called the Scar. Deep ravine, like something uprooted the ground on each side. Teeming with youma, likely why it's resting there. It knows it's being hunted."
"For that reason, we're using three teams. Jet and Aquamarine's team will track it, my team will interrogate the local youma, and Kamacite's team will bait it out. Once we find it, we set up camp, treat our wounded. Fight when we're hale. It's in no condition to run." He looked to Jet and Aqua, head canted toward the audience, as if to invite them to speak should they have something to say. Kamacite, he knew, would want to stay quiet.
There were still details to come — who would join which team, and where in the Scar they would start their search. Questions, likely. Deriding comments. Faustite kept his sigh to himself.
Prehnite took stock, note, and brief interest. Dialed into key parts of the Generals speech - and so it had been a mission long in planning. The nature of the beast was just as curios as the prize being sought in the hunt.
The creatures scales?
He wasn't usually one to deign a general kings musings or plans, but the idea of dragging a group into the rift after a shape shifting monstrosity for the sake of collecting its scales. Worse than that, the creature was sentient enough to know it was being chased into the wastes of the rift - hid amongst what was likely a harsher part of the environment as a whole.
Prehnite could only shake his head, sigh, and wonder at what he was doing throwing himself into such a mess of a thing willingly. He hoped those milling about enjoyed a hearty last meal, and that at least a few of the survival kits and packs on display contained body bags.
Doubtful...
Whoever would fall in such a place would likely be left there. A creature roaming deep down in something so cragulous, to be described as a scar by those who had seen it firsthand already. None of the information was especially inspiring... They'd have teams at least, and a sense of leadership amongst them if they could all manage to co-operate long enough to achieve the goal. All tasks divvied up nice and neatly across the numbers. Prehnite would've liked to know how the scales would be balanced; which names assigned to which General for command.
Albite was only briefly distracted from the antics of the cat sat upon the table by the conversation going on just in his periphery. Some well coiffed, long haired brunette offering sage advice to the tall drink of blond with an accent like blunt force trauma; who asked about cats, rifts, and sane logical things.
Normally he would have joined in, easily. Would've fervently dove headlong into conversation about all sorts of things. Except that the instant he sought to look away from the furry ball of mess whisker deep in steaksauce and gristle - the damned thing spoke at him.
Bright, cheery, and childlike. The only saving grace was the fact that the cat - Haymitch - wasn't pretending at being people, because Albite would have straight up fled the venue if the little beast suddenly poofed into a person. Albite had a brief moment of whiplash tracking the chatting cat from the table straight into his Generals hand - a palm kitty on call. He hadn't known Faustite could do that, and could everyone do that? Could he do that?
Why in the ever loving name of heck hadn't firebrand told him he could summon cats at will!!
Betrayed, mortified, a wisp of abject terror flashed momentarily in Albites wide brown eyes. The senshi's gaze laser locked onto Faustite like a plea for reprieve. Food forgotten, he mouthed at his General for help.
Then the cat was next to him....
Albite wasn't sure what noise he made as he froze up, stared down at Haymitch as if he expected a thing to happen; and remained exactly so when it didn't because 'cat'. Maybe magical cats worked like t-rex's did in the movies? If he just stayed very, very, still....
If his wonderful general said anything of import, it was lost in the din of 'nope' that was the senshis brain static - too full of cat to listen just yet.
Ransomite was starting to get, well... bored. He had gone to talk to no one and, in turn, no one had come to talk to him. People-watching had its draws, but only for so long. It wasn't that he was easily bored, but when there were this many people gathered, something had to be about to happen, and a large part of him wished the tension would just get on with it already...
Youma hunting.
He hadn't done overmuch youma hunting over the sparse few times he'd powered up. It didn't usually come up.
An 'archaeopteryx with a serpentine lower half'? Ransomite rooted through his surface-level knowledge of mythology. It'd been touched on briefly in college and seminary, but with an obvious focus-- Was it a winged serpent? There were plenty of examples of winged serpents across different cultures and mythologies, but he couldn't think of a way to narrow down which one, specifically, this youma looked like.
And that they'd be looking for a permutation, meaning its form could actually be different from that framework... And that was on top of the other youma that would be wandering about that they'd have to contend with.
He didn't know much about the Scar, but if it was intelligent enough to know it was being hunted, that wasn't very good news for them, now was it?
Ransomite had questions, but didn't voice them, lest he out himself as perhaps more... absent than he should have been lately.
Maybe someone else would have the same thoughts he had.
Rakovanite's gaze followed her wave toward the packs at the front, lingering there as he mulled over how best to respond. He wasn't accustomed to this sort of mood from Sylvite, so he had less than zero idea of how to help her. "Hunting is what is on your mind, but it can be whatever you choose to call it," he told her quietly. "Tracking or exploring. Camping." Not that he thought Cybele wouldn't have something to offer toward those assignments, either. But she wasn't the senshi of "camping."
"There will be others," he offered. "Perhaps younger and less experienced, who will have much to gain from your wisdom." Instead of an ungrateful, ill-tempered eternal who complained of no one being nice to her when she'd had someone like Sylvite by her the entire time.
It was nice to see her smile. Not quite as exuberant as usual, but better than idly poking at a cookie.
Rakovanite reached a hand back, plucking at the edge of his cape with two fingers. Just a gray slab that happened to be draped over the several other layers already making up his uniform. "Not as luxurious as yours, I think," he replied, trying a bit of a smile of his own.
When Feldspar appeared with a plate and dropped into a seat next to Sylvite, the smile had all but vanished, and a tired sigh escaped him, instead. He couldn't bring himself to be offended, exactly, not like he was when Cervantite said his civilian name. Cervantite did it on impulse, dangerously. But Rakovanite expected Feldspar was more intentional. And obviously must have trusted Sylvite somewhat. Fortunate, he supposed, since Rakovanite did as well.
"You know I am not interested in steak." Despite his trust and tolerance for Feldspar, the words were still almost a grumble.
Alright. Good news: he wasn't missing out on anything. Pretty much everyone he knew in the Negaverse had shown up to this meeting, and it would've been hugely annoying if he'd had to miss it. No school keeping him from the action this time. Bad news: it had to be the Rift again.
He'd wound up in the infirmary last time he'd gone, with a particularly grouchy Nat standing over him for most of it. He didn't get why these monsters were so much worse than the ones that randomly appeared in Destiny City. Even this last one hadn't really been easy to take down. But the youma were just worse, somehow. Maybe because youma hated his ilk specifically, and the other space monsters seemed to hate everyone about equally.
Something like that, he guessed.
Rakovanite had done him and Cala the service of getting them here, so Cervantite found himself close at the other senshi's heels, picking up a plate as Calaverite picked at a treat.
It seemed like the talking had already begun. Fighting a monster, teams, nights in the Rift. Yeah, yeah, sure. Stuff and things of importance. Cervantite gave Cala a nudge in his bony ribs with his elbow and leaned in to whisper (so as not to disturb anyone listening). "Hey, I brought something. Wanna see?" With the hand that wasn't holding his plate, Cervantite picked at the thick fabric of the hood at his collar and pulled it away to reveal a Mauvian.
The warm, protective cloth was pulled away from him, and Gremlin immediately let out a vicious and very vocal hiss, ears pinning flat to his head as his icy gaze landed on the scrawny figure of another disgusting human boy. His claws sank into the tender, fleshy bit of muscle in between Cervantite's neck and shoulder, earning a startled yip and whimper from the senshi.
Dealing with Rakovanite and Cervantite was bad enough: awful humans, all of them. It just happened that he expected Rakovanite was willing and able to protect him from anything else in the streets, making him a beneficial stooge for when Gremlin had to be out. And Cervantite was so blessedly, tantalizingly warm that it was hard for Gremlin to pull himself together enough to avoid him.
But he would absolutely not be a show-and-tell project for other filthy two-leggers.
"Keep your stupid hands to yourself, where they belong," Gremlin spat, lifting his nose so that the sharp points of his teeth grazed threateningly against the senshi's ear. To the other boy, the one he didn't know, he gave an unfriendly growl, hunkering his body deeper into Cervantite's hood to avoid any unnecessary touching.
But since his nose had been freed, he caught wind of the other scents in the air. Food. He craned his head to peer through Cervantite's hair. A lot of food. "Get me something to eat," he demanded tartly.
He would continue his rant — he had plenty of rage to unleash upon this General (Arsenopyrite) — but the meeting was getting underway and Aquamarine didn’t care to associate any further with a General who couldn’t be bothered to arrive prepared and alert to a pre-arranged gathering. This sort of behavior was part of what he despised about their recruitment practices; they let any fool into the Negaverse, wasted time training them, and then promoted them, pretending all the while to value obedience and organization when half their agents couldn’t be assed to give a damn.
Aquamarine would know. He used to be one of those agents.
Things were different now.
“You fall asleep in the Rift, don’t expect anyone to cover your a**,” Aquamarine warned him, seething.
If General Resting-My-Eyes ended up on his team, Aquamarine would make damned sure everyone knew not to bother.
He stalked away as soon as Faustite began speaking, returning to his previous spot at the front of the room, against the wall near Jet, looking out over the crowd to make sure there was no one else sleeping or goofing off, or making any sort of display of atrocious behavior.
They were meant to hunt a youma in the Rift. Was this really the best the Negaverse had to offer?
Aquamarine leaned closer to Jet, mumbling, “What was it you were saying about quality versus quantity?”
SSBrosB
I would say he's just on edge, but the truth is he's just a b***h (and also on edge). rofl
When Faustite spoke, Roselite listened with rapt attention, taking notes almost on instinct.
Nervous as he was, Roselite could not suppress the smallest of smiles. He felt the barest traces of pride — that he should be involved in a mission like this, that he would be able to help Faustite with more than paperwork for once, and assist General King Axinite by extension.
He drew a quick sketch of the youma as described, unsure if what he ended up with was correct, but it was for his own notes heading into the operation, so he wasn’t as concerned with accuracy as he would be if he were offering the notes to someone else.
Leave it to Bloodstone to know nothing. Carnallite was beginning to think he was utterly useless as a Captain. Probably because his General was suspiciously never around. Perhaps she should put in for a transfer for them both, get them reporting to someone who cared more to assist them on their way up the ranks than a General who couldn't be bothered to show his face.
Now that she was thinking about it again… Did he not show his face because he was dead?
Carnallite spared a brief, suspicious glance toward Bloodstone. She wouldn’t put it passed him to kill someone who got in his way, even a superior officer.
At least Faustite seemed to be a decent enough sort when he spoke. Didn’t waste his time on nonsense, got straight to the point. Young, like many of them seemed to be, and… modified. Carnallite had no opinion on that one way or the other, except to wonder at the extent of his abilities.
She thought he might have helped take down the monstrous wisp lizard from a week before, might have spoken to Jet while she was around the curly-haired General, in which case he’d already demonstrated his skill.
It almost seemed impossible that Cymophane’s smile would be able to brighten any further, but brighten it did as soon as Kamacite took a bite of the bagel.
When the meeting started in earnest, Cymophane kept himself out of the way, not wanting to interrupt Faustite or distract Kamacite. Even so, he stayed close, in case Kamacite should need his support, close enough that they could still speak whenever there was a lull in the information being disseminated.
“I hope you volunteered for this because you actually want to do it, and not because you feel obligated to help a friend,” he said.
A friend who doesn’t even treat you well, he didn’t add.
The entire mission would be dangerous, but Kamacite’s team would be in more danger than the other two. Cymophane didn’t like the idea of Kamacite being made to put himself at risk like this.
Lopezite was by no means antisocial, but he hadn’t extended himself into conversation upon arrival. He recognized a fair few agents, either because he knew them in his personal life or was vaguely aware of seeing them during his last big trip into the Rift. He’d been in the Negaverse for years, and it was still surprising to see so many people he didn’t recognize.
Overall, he was a good officer. He met his quotas, for the most part--and no one had ever harassed him for not pulling starseeds. It just hadn’t been necessary, and he’d collected enough energy that no one had ever given him a hard time.
Was there more that he could do? Sure, but anyone could say that.
So, he was here now, to see what else there was to do.
The Rift was still fairly new to him, but he thought this would be an opportunity to learn more, to improve himself, to be more.
He wondered if all Negaverse functions came with food, or if Axinite’s baking problem had just set the standard for all meetings; he had eaten beforehand so didn’t need to nibble, but he was grateful for the consideration of other officers.
It made sense, he supposed, given the information they’d been given.
It would have been unwise to send anyone into the Rift if they were hungry or unprepared.
If this youma was problematic that it caught the attention of a General King, that meant it was worth taking seriously--especially with this many people. This didn’t seem like any sort of recovery mission, not like with Feldspar. But, he was willing to offer whatever assistance he could.
He waited, contemplative and patient, and lingered a bit out of the way. His arms were crossed over his chest and he spent the time watching, and listening.
Quote:
Lopezite is open for interaction; I haven’t had a chance to reach out to anyone else yet to see if they want company :’D
Atheneite listened to the general's explanation of the situation. A youma with unique enough abilities to warrant a sovereign arranging a hunt for it. That was fascinating. She wanted to know more about this creatures but more than anything she wanted to fight it. She thought about its shape changing abilities, those would certainly be useful and would make hunting it more difficult. At least it couldn't change on a whim but still it would make predicting its physical abilities difficult. She shrugged to herself she was sure the officers leading the operation had a plan for that kind of variance.
Atheneite spotted a general dressed in a seemingly Arabic or perhaps Moorish inspire uniform. She didn't have much else to do and no one to talk to while she waited for the full briefing. So she slide up next to the man. "Hi, Atheneite nice to meet ya." She whispered. "So what do you think of this shape changing youma, it must be pretty amazing if general sovereign wants a piece of it." She inquired.
By the time Faustite started to go over the details of the mission, Jet had returned his tablet to the more transportable pen and back into his pocket.
“You are all here by choice. Either you already know of the dangers of the Rift, or you’ve refreshed your knowledge and have prepared yourself for what to expect. If you do not feel like you are a willing participant in this mission, you are welcome to leave with no repercussions,” he said, pausing to allow anyone who might have wandered in on accident to grab a quick meal to slink their way out.
“Our target is a youma; however, that does not mean we are there to slaughter the other residents of the Rift. They are still allies of the Negaverse. They may not be friendly, they may even be aggressive, but we are the ones invading their home. Make every attempt to command them before engaging for self defense purposes only,” he continued, and while his eyes lingered for a moment on Benitoite, he did not let his attention remain on the other General.
“This mission is of great interest to General King Axinite and is an excellent opportunity to show him and the other General Sovereigns that we don’t need them to hold our hands for every request they have. Treat this mission as though Axinite is there, because everything will be reported to him once we return.”
As much as Kamacite would have liked to cross his arms over his chest in an attempt to hide from the eyes directed at the front of the room, he kept them down by his side. He normally wouldn’t have said anything, but if he was going into the Rift, a place that he hated, to hunt down a youma that had already escaped from him and Faustite once before, he wanted to make sure these willing participants know what to expect.
“For those placed on my team, we are exactly what General Faustite said: bait,” he said, hoping that his voice was loud enough to carry across the room like Faustite and Jet, but somehow he doubted it. Still, he at least managed not to stutter. Yet.
“Senshi, please cut your hair before entering the Hall of Shadows. Officers… please keep us alive. Thank you.”
"We can call it exploring, I guess," said Sylvite, taking another painfully small bite of cookie. "I like exploring." She still didn't sound totally convinced on that point, but she didn't exactly sound sad, either, especially as she took a closer look at Rakovanite's outfit.
She sat up taller in the her chair, glad for the distraction and always ready to talk about clothes. "Don't get me wrong, you look super snazzy," she said, "You're all, like, elegant, and- what's the word?" For a second or so, she chewed on her cheeks in thought before she nodded. "Sharp," she said. "You're sharp. It's just basically impossible to be cuter than me."
This wasn't really the best setting to show off her own clothes, with her cape-skirt bunched up under the chair and all, but she still pulled out a corner of it so that he could see the glitter lining.
Then Feldspar was there, and she waved at him, trying to keep up the smile even if it didn't come as naturally as usual. Obviously she was gonna do her best for the recruits who were still around.
At least, until she turned back to Rakovanite, wide-eyed. "Wait, is that your name?" she asked. "Nat?" She looked between the two of them, pursing her lips. "Wait, how come he knows your name and I don't?"
Faustite's speech about hunting made her pause and toss Rakovanite an I told you so look, but she managed not to dwell on it for too long.
After glancing down at Feldspar's plate, with dollops of all the weird fancy food on it, she added, "Also, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be the one telling you to eat enough, but like, it looks like you've got that covered."
Someone cute spoke to her, and Shahar paused in her attempt to single-handedly demolish all of the food in the meeting to give the other woman a bright smile. "Just Titanite is fine from now on," Shahar tried to speak clearly around the s'more in her mouth instead of letting her strange accent further muddle her words as she introduced herself; "And I will certainly let you know." Now she wished she had picked up a few more desserts, just so she would have a little more to talk about. Dropping her head so she could let the s'more fall to her plate, the General glanced the Lieutenant over. "I plan to grab some sweets even if they are terrible. If the Rift is as I imagine, I will burn off the extra calories and need the sweets to keep from having a poor temper."
The General had a piece of steak shoved in her mouth when Faustite began to speak, and turned her bright eyes to the... person, listening to the briefing as she continued chowing down.
Shapeshifting chameleon youma, intelligent but wounded. Hiding amongst its own, so either not afraid of them even though it was injured (a concern of its own, if it was powerful enough to fight off other youma, or hide from them) or would rather die where it was comfortable. Interrogation, tracking, and bait teams. Axinite wanted scales, and Titanite could think of a few reasons such things could be advantageous to the Negaverse. Too strong of will to be made a personal youma, perhaps? Or was its body deemed too valuable?
Briefly, she debated being the first to leave with no repercussions... but she had not finished eating, and eating was accepting payment. Or something.
It was not as though Shahar or Titanite had any urgent places to be.
Once again, Mirzam showed up for a mission, and it was with a sort of pleased glee that she did. Having been successful at the last one, she hoped to continue the trend--perhaps she could impress those higher up, and earn an increase in her rank, or just some positive privileges. Anything would be nice, as long as it involved recognizing that she worked very hard.
Also, this meeting was well-catered, and that was always something to be appreciated. She didn't even have to worry about stains--with a thought, she would be able to make them disappear, as was the nature of a magical uniform, even if it did show against the black. Still, she was restrained and polite when filling her plate and one for Cleeia (since he had staked out a seat and was refusing to move, which was more than a bit sigh-inducing for Mirzam--she needed her brother to show some backbone, please!), even if she had to weave around a few people and a cat to do so. No reason to be a slob and leave a bad impression when there were so many superiors lurking around.
She took her seat, and passed the plate to Cleeia, and listened to the details. A two-day mission into the Rift....it had the potential to be terribly dangerous, but also to be terribly interesting. Besides, the food made sense now, since there might not be many chances to eat.
Better to fill up now than be a fool later, and she was glad she had grabbed the beef wellingtons for herself and for Cleeia, so she dug in as the purpose of the team divisions was explained. Kamacite's comment about cutting hair made her snort, softly; it made especial sense to tame her voluminous tumbles of green and black hair. There were others she could see who might have a better time, but...well. She would have to find a knife, and aim for a slice slightly longer than her ordinary hair.
Cleeia, as always, did not want to be here. Once again, his sister was dragging him to something terribly risky, all for the glory of the Negaverse, which was not something he was totally sold on pursuing. Honestly! A trip into the Rift! There were youma there who might decide that a pretty Corrupt with a bare midriff would make a nice snack! Sure, he wouldn't be alone, but he also knew that he made a very delicious target, and he hated every aspect of this.
It was with a mild edge of panic that he shoved food into his face, as a method of keeping himself from saying anything stupid, because this was not the time to run his mouth the way he liked to sometimes. He wasn't here as Constantin Lacroix, Certified Genius; he was here as Sailor Cleeia, Bottom of the Ladder.
(Oh, he wanted to see that change so badly. He wanted to be stronger, so that he could actually stand up for himself and expect more than to be told to shut up, because the entire system galled him in the worst way and he would have loved to have a way to make his feelings known. Ah well.)
There was so much to take in, and for a moment, a flicker of hope, when General Jet suggested there would be no penalty for leaving--but he looked to Mirzam, and she was enraptured, and he huffed and sank back into his seat.
He had to stay. He couldn't let Mirzam do this alone--she was far too reckless. Someone had to watch out for her.
Lilith was prepared for the mission. She'd left a note to her Twitch subscribers that she'd be taking the next two days off streaming (peace! love you all! be back as soon as I can!) with the excuse that she was ill, so if she came back from the Rift needing more time off camera, she could just say that she was sicker than expected and needed more time to recoup. She'd even modified her uniform some, trading out her delicate heeled pumps for much chunkier combat boots that were better suited to exploration. This wasn't the kind of thing she had much opportunity to show up to, and she wanted to show up and look good doing it.
Hey, a girl could care about her appearance and also care about her effectiveness. Multitasking!
She crossed one leg primly over the other so she could rest her plate of food on her thighs, and nibbled at a protein-packed assortment that she hoped would help her get through the mission without too much suffering. She was not a girl used to worrying about her figure beyond what she had to in order to keep looking good for streams, so thinking hard about her food wasn't exactly her favorite thing to do, but here she was, and she was going to make sure that she was as prepared as possible.
At least she expected her magic would be useful. Drowning was scary for everyone, so no matter which team she was on, she would have plenty to contribute. That was reassurance enoguh for her that she belonged here, and that she would be an asset to the mission.
Lionel did not consider himself a particularly dedicated soldier, but here before him was a chance for free food and free demonstrations of what capabilities he had to his superiors. A good time all around, if you asked him. Especially the part where they got to go trudging into the Rift--there were so many fascinating dangers down there, and so much to learn about the place in the depths of the Negaverse.
And there certainly wasn't a dearth of brave or foolhardy people here to accept this mission, too. That was a blessing; no one was going to be alone in this little endeavor. Less risk of getting cornered by some ******** up monster and suffering a terrible fate. Which wasn't in Lionel's plan for himself, but, you know, be prepared and all.
Lionel scanned the crowd after he loaded up his plate with food--avoiding the cat on the buffet--and grinned when he spotted Arsenolite. It was with a little smugness and some sashay that he walked over to his coworker and--he dared to say--friend, and plopped down next to him.
"Sounds like a hell of a mission," he said, keeping his voice low so as not to attract too much attention from the people running it. Wouldn't do to have him or Arsenolite get in trouble for chatting too much after the official announcements. "Diving into the Rift, hunting some ancient youma--crazy s**t," he said, and he took a bite of his beef wellington. "Have you tried the food, by the way? It's good and, more importantly, it's free." He quirked up his eyebrows with a note of amusement.
Ilse was still trying to find her footing in this strange, magical world; there was so much to learn and to understand, and she wanted to get better and stronger, and prove that the cat and the General-Sovereign who had brought her into the Negaverse had made the right decision.
And, more than that, she wanted to understand. What did it mean to be Sailor Ilse, Senshi of the Unattainable? What did and didn't it change about who she was? What would she become, as she grew in power and experience?
She could see a rainbow of corrupts and officers here, all people who probably had more experience than her, and she wrung her hands together. Nerves told her not to grab anything to eat, but good sense pushed her to, and so she took a seat with food, and tried not to be too noticeable. At least she didn't have the most dramatic looks here--that honor had to go tot he gorgeous, multicolored Eternal Senshi on the stage, the one they called Kamacite. She wondered, briefly, why he had an officer's mineral name instead of a Senshi planet like hers--but perhaps there was simply some difference betwen them she was too new at this to understand.
Ilse sighed, heavily. It would be easy to walk out, to go home and keep working on her latest draft, but she couldn't make herself do it. She had to demonstrate that she belonged here. That no matter how pretty her magical powerup made her (and she couldn't deny: she looked good), she wasn't some delicate flower that couldn't do anything.
Xenia wasn't used to doing things without Wavellite or Bellite. Sure, she'd been corrupted for a few years now, but she still always sort of expected to look to her right or left and see that she had familiar backup. But!! That made this a brave choice, didn't it? Setting out on her own, and doing ti as part of a Rift exploration mission, at that! She was going to prove that she was an asset, even though she knew that Bellite and Wavellite and Zinkenite already knew that.
She needed to make sure everyone else did too.
She leaned forward with interest, shoving a s'more into her face and wiggling eagerly. Her palte wasn't exactly balanced--it was all cookies and a blueberry muffin and several s'mores--but it was enough that she expected it would give her plenty of energy. THat was what sugar was, right? Free energy?
Obviously. This was a faultness decision that she could not possibly regret later.
She finished her s'more and tucked into the muffin, wiggling in her seat and doing her best not to get too many crumbs on her nice, floofy dress. She suspected she might be one of the youngest people here; that meant that she had even more responsibility to not look like a total idiot child. Which was hard, because she was, as ever, eager to do her duty, especially since she would also be demonstrating that as a Corrupt, she was way stronger than she'd ever been as a stupid Chibi Senshi. Or even a grownup one, Order-side.
She was better now, and it was time for her to prove that in the best way she could think of. By being a total badass on this expedition into the Rift.
Despite being a half-youma, Nagyágite was cautious about venturing in there. If anything, he felt as if he knew the dangers of tangling with youma stronger than you better than most--it had been in an agonizing struggle for his life that he'd become what he was now, a half-man half-snake abomination.
But, what a curiosity. This mission was being led by a half-youma General, and one who had clearly taken a more devastating blow to his humanity than Nagya had, by miles. The furnace in his gut looked like it couldn't possibly be comfortable, and Nagya shuddered to think of being subjected to anything even remotely like that. He was lucky, he supposed, to have blended with something entirely biological, rather than the ifrit that seemed to have taken hold of this General.
Still, the prospect was intriguing. Perhaps Nagya would become more monstrous, but also stronger, as he grew in rank.
The thought made him grin, as he perused the selection of food. None that particularly appealed, and certainly none that had the fragrant spice palate he would include in food he made for himself or for Lameia, but that was alright. He could still fill up before they ventured forth, and be assured that at least hunger wouldn't be a problem in the depths.
...Which was good, because he absolutely did not want to try and forage down there. Eugh. The prospect made him shudder. There was nothing he considered remotely edible, and certainly nothing he would put in his mouth unless he was under very great duress.
Better to fill up, and take a seat, and listen to the briefing.
Marialite was practically giddy. This, this was a good test of her new abilities. She and her twin daggers were more than ready for any expedition into the Rift, and as soon as she had heard there was some kind of mission on, she'd barely taken in the details before she was off to sign herself up. There was no point in hesitating! She was a Captain now, and she needed to prove herself worthy of her rank!!
That was it. That was all that mattered to her, as she bounced into the meeting and dropped herself into a seat with a perky eagerness. Food could wait, there was so much else to worry about--and besides, she was far too excited to eat. She knew, vaguely, that she'd regret it if she didn't put something in her stomach, but eh, she'd definitely made choices she regretted more in the past, and this one would at least probably only affect her.
She'd pushed through pain and exhaustion in cheer practice and in competitions. She could push past hunger, she was certain.
She bounced a little in her seat, trying not to be too obvious in her eagerness and failing spectacularly. God, she needed to know everything, right now; it was hard to be patient and wait for everyone to settle so Faustite--the fascinatingly monstrous General in charge of this mission, which made Marialite want to stare, because he was just!! So!! Interesting!!--could get things started.
It all seemed very standard--teams, a target to recover, and glory to win. Excellent. Marilaite was sure this would be an absolutely excellent time, and she could even prove how genuinely effective she was without Cale or Gala at her back.
It was Amazonite's first time out in "public" since her transformation. She had spent the days since her encounter with the Senshi holed up in her office, recovering, only occasionally teleporting to the surface to steal food. The change had left her off-balance, and she had to acclimate herself to the new weight of her horns and her tail, and she had to learn to eat around her fangs, and really, it was just such an entire hassle.
But it was all worth it, really. As she arrived, she sashayed over to the table of pastries and picked up a luscious-looking blueberry muffin, biting into it without a single glance of acknowledgement to anyone who might be staring. She was made anew, in a way that was fairly dramatic, and she supposed it might be eye-catching.
How interesting, too, that the mission was being run by another half-youma--she would have to ask him about his experiences, if he could spare her a moment in between all the work. And in the crowd, she spotted the serpent she had experimented on, the one that had been so terribly offended by her work.
...She would have to remember to ask, first, if she wanted to examine any half-youma starseeds for comparison. Hopefully others would be more amenable.
Ah well.
She chose to stand, not sit, towards the back so as not to block anyone's view. Negotiating a chair with her new tail sounded like more effort than it was worth, and she could listen just as well on her feet.
Gathered to hunt a youma. Actively hunt. She shouldn't have been surprised; there was definitely little reason to invite so many into the Rift unless there was something they were trying to take down or get out, but it still brought a chill down her spine. Usually, from what she knew, senshi in the Rift were oft the hunted--it felt weird to think that not only was she going down there at all, but also to attempt to be the prey that hunted the predator.
Like a mouse trying to hunt a cat.
There was some level of relief she felt when Faustite commented that his team would be interrogating youma, but it was mild, vague, and hardly able to be touched in the concept of having to go through the Rift in the first place. She knew she had been intended to be kept with Faustite; perhaps interrogation would keep her away from the worst aspects of it. She knew that was wrong. It was an easy bandaid that allowed her to pretend the contrary so she didn't start panicking and make a horrible impression.
It was in no condition to run, but it still needed this many of them to find it.
The food started looking tastier. Nembus opted to eat more of it.
His gaze drifted away from his pile of food to the general when he started to speak. Alright, so they were there to hunt a youma. Guess that tracked. The youma also apparently was already aware it was being hunted. Guess that also tracked. Place teeming with youma, plenty of other monsters surrounding it, plenty of monsters surrounding it to potentially either obscure or defend it.
Fulgurite heard what Jet said. They were entering another species' home, and they needed to act like it. Besides the youma that Axinite was interested in, they were to generally avoid attacking. He wasn't sure if it was just his instinct to punch things or his innate sense that the fact that the youma was buried in other youma was bad news, but he had a feeling that avoiding attacking was likely not going to be entirely in the cards.
He kept his mouth shut about it. Best not to draw any ire for the moment.
He'd save that for the youma.
His gaze flicked toward an apprehensive-looking lieutenant standing nearby.
"So, uh, are you hoping to be on the senshi's bait team or on a different one?"
"Figure hungry people are interested in whatever's available," Feldspar answered as he speared the end of a pastry-wrapped slab of wellington. "We'll see how you feel after a couple days of nothing, mm?" He popped the bite into his mouth. Maybe it wasn't the best cut of beef he'd ever tasted, but it wasn't the worst, either.
He had the decency to finish the bite before shooting Sylvite a crooked smile and a little shrug. "We go back," he replied. "Pretty far back, actually. Before all this." He gestured lightly by twirling the tip of his fork to indicate the room. "Parents were in business together before mine bit the dust. Fell off a little after that. And Nat's got a couple years on me in age, so that probably contributed some."
"But Rakovanite took me home from the infirmary, once I got the all-clear." Literally the last time he'd been here. Hard to imagine it'd only been four months. "You know, someone had to go with me to make sure I didn't get abducted again and waste all the effort everyone put in, or whatever, and..." He shrugged again, attention going back to his meal. Rest was history. His grandparents had the same house they'd had when Feldspar was a boy. Not hard to recognize, if you'd been there before.
He should be taking more care with such information. Feldspar knew it wasn't really his place to divulge it.
But really the worst she could do was have them and their families killed, and that didn't seem immediately likely. She was in Information, besides. It was kind of a surprise that she didn't know, already.
"Yeah, I'm a grown man, so I'm pretty much out of the phase of needing people to remind me to eat my dinner." Though his very slight physique probably gave away the fact that he did skip sometimes. Not always convenient if there wasn't a quick bite nearby, you know?
As Cervantite tugged at his clothes, Calaverite found himself leaning curiously in. The other senshi was quite a bit taller than him. He had to perch on his tiptoes to make sure he got a good look and didn't miss what was being revealed. The ears came out first: bare and huge and pointed.
That was all Calaverite needed to see before he screeched, "Kitty!" And received an angry hiss in response.
It was a hideous cat! The ugliest one he'd ever seen! Even worse off than mangy and flea-bitten street kitties. This one was pale, naked, and wrinkly, with a little purple stripe going down its spine. Calaverite had never loved anything more than he loved this cat in this moment. He reached a hand up, headless of the Mauvian's warning, to smear a palm against his peachy-like coat.
Calaverite was smiling broadly: all teeth and huge eyes and tangled hair. Kitty wanted treat. He could get kitty treat.
His own plate was mostly snacks and sweets, piled high with the few things Calaverite thought he would like, but certainly in huge excess. No way a boy of his skeletal stature could eat more than a few mouthfuls without getting sick. But that didn't stop him from taking. He could've offered his own stacked plate to kitty, but the thought seemed ridiculous. That stuff was his, even if he couldn't eat it all.
So he picked out a new plate, put some Good Things on it, and stuck it out toward the Mauvian, having almost entirely forgotten the whole boy who was carrying him.
Arsenolite had shown up to this meeting-thing with low expectations. Sure, the Negaverse seemed chill or whatever so far, and by God did he relish the powers he'd been gifted, but it just felt... rather boring for the most part, so far. Probably because he was the lowest rung on the ladder right now, but with some luck and a**-kicking, he figured he could change that really quickly. He hoped. The longer he stuck around and did better at his job here, the better things would get.
The mission, at least, sounded tough. And important. He felt he was up for the challenge. It didn't seem like anything he should be too worried about, as long as he didn't let himself get too cocky and ******** some stupid basic s**t up. Man, he couldn't wait until he was a Captain. Having a personal youma would be cool. Meh, that wasn't the point right now, especially since there was free food.
He sneered at the cat as he gathered some food onto his plate and sat down, only to be joined a moment later by Lionel. He grinned at Lionel, lifting his plate from his lap and waving it around a bit.
"Free meal's always good," he said, just as quiet as his coworker-friend. "And even if it wasn't free, it'd be pretty damn good."
He breathed in deeply before taking another bite of the food he'd picked out, then choked and spat out a cat hair. "Ugh. Good thing I'm not allergic to cats," he harrumphed, "Anyway... Yeah. I'm pumped. First real mission. Gonna be good, huh?"
