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Corrupt Super Fulgurite

That sure was ... something.

Fulgurite shook out his hair and ran a hand through the black-and-blue tresses, shaking his body out as he felt the thrill of battle and the loss of the generators wash through him. Felt the encouragement again as Laurelite praised them, as Metallia praised him, and couldn't quite resist rolling his eyes. Sure. They had done something right, he guessed--

He got the sense that there was a celebration about to be afoot, and he figured that was probably related to the suite of new people he saw hanging out -- not that he knew half these people anyway. Was fine with that as a way to blow off remaining steam from the unfinished fights, but before they could get into that, Sylvite's voice caught his attention. He glanced over his shoulder, let out a quiet, "Ah!" and made his way over to her without another question.

Didn't care about most of these assholes. Liked her.

"Fulgurite reporting," he replied, dutiful as ever. He didn't quite recognize Adonis, but he would assume that was the senshi asking about the new teammate. Was the waistcoat-wearing senshi another teammate of theirs? (And why had Metallia only given him a waistcoat--) "Doing alright. Didn't get too scratched up. Order hardly stood a chance at our generator until they started dogpiling it."

Unfortunate.

"Seems like the mission was a success, though." And the Queen was threatening some aliens, he guessed--

Cadet Lysvi

Oh, they did not like this.

Oh, they did not like this at all.

Everything about this place felt sick and wrong, and it wasn't necessarily just the energy. Lyndin's sphere was mostly protecting them from that, at least for now -- Lysvi swore they saw Lyndin shake as he stood there, minutely, and they could tell that everything that had happened wore on him -- but it was the strange creatures wandering around. It was the way the Queen was speaking -- so sugary sweet, acting like she owned the planet, acting like she had any ground with which to probably make demands. They shivered. They glared in her direction, as if their glare had any power when she was being so haughty toward Commodore Lyndin in the first place.

Sure we'll find some way to help us as well their a**. Lysvi had no interest in helping these people with anything at all. They were the ones that thought it appropriate to trap their enemies in a box and do something to them that could apparently make them cold-hearted killers.

They didn't forget what one of the White Moon senshi had screamed at them.

Poor Gavaen...

Lysvi leaned toward Yddagen, their expression a grim line as their eyes slid from Lyndin to Queen Laurelite. "I don't like her," they declared, keeping their voice low in hopes none of these ... sick people heard them. "She's mocking our Commodore." Lysvi was not patronizing him; they knew Yddagen occasionally had trouble with the intricacies of facial expressions. "And us."

Could they leave? Lysvi desperately wanted to leave. Their eyes wandered over their fellow cadets, hoping that the expressions of concern on their faces hinted at much the same.

If Lysvi saw Fae-fae's gaze slide in their direction at all, they offered an attempt at a reassuring smile despite how unhappy they felt at the moment. It wasn't much, but they had stood by her side when she had made the argument about their adaptability.

Lysvi believed in that.

Itztenoch: With his Crew

“I’m not okay.” spoken softly to Eso and Nessa, as he held them close, as he wanted to put himself between them and the space they had been warped into - bodily - and yet also disappear between them for the sudden shock of it all. For how his body ached and stung with the sustained blasts from before.

Itztenoch was not okay --- wasn’t sure if he ever would be again. The mark of friend Scyllas tattoo b u r n e d. Might as well have been a brand that spelled traitor instead of trust in white glowing scrawl on the small inner flesh of his wrist. Delicate hidden thing. How she was so suddenly a ‘friend’ now - clear as window glass and blue skies in his mind.

Not that it mattered. He’d made a choice. A call. Heaved a breath heavy around the knowledge of that. Felt its weight and sat with the crush of it. Something he deserved. For trusting errantly. For making choices without having the full picture in view.

“But I will be---we? We will be okay.” would see home, would, and if it was the last thing he ever did? He would see it done. Owed them for his poor choices. His dear loves...his friends...and if any aid was offered by those they found themselves in the room with. The beasts that crawled and the agents that stood at attention rapt to the woman in the center. He found he’d rather refuse...

"You didn't *lie*...did you sir. Not technically." a statement of fact aimed at a spot on Lyndins shoulder, derision that dripped from every hissed syllabant. His grip on the blaster clutched in the palm of his hand tightened - fingers that wound like threading on a bolt. Improperly used tool that had been put to too much pressure until stripped bare -- until he felt something creak - the bones of his fingers - the casing on his weapon’s grip.

He wasn’t sure.

Wanted to raise it and fire. Sear that smirk off her too pretty face. The woman that stood tall and was hailed as a Queen before them. Her satisfaction was not his own. Her care was not his concern. The room they were in? Was not Home. That was all that mattered in the end. Lyndin had begged their trust and they had given it - were giving it still --- and yet?

“We cannot go home without it. Home is not a thing without it - the starseed? You have said this, and now she has said this…” and Tenoch was Vanguard. Was able to drag his eyes up enough to meet his Commodore. Raised his head high and eyed Lyndin with -- an emotion -- even Tenoch wasn’t sure what the word for it was. “So what are our orders now?”

Tenoch would have questions later. Oh so many questions - when they were not center stage amongst prying eyes that could have been friend or foe. He would demand answers without omission of necessary data this time. It seemed like there would be time here. If what the Queen hinted at held even a grain of truth, if they were trapped on Earth. How he felt the part of a fool, for taking what had become their practice on Earth, to have gone on and not applied the same said thing to Lyndin himself.

Collect data on the planet, on its people, on the senshi and their worlds. An awakening of sorts, an opening of his eyes and mind. Gift of Earths people and their very nature to question authority, to question even their own. In all things, at all times, and how that had seemed so damaging to him before? Had seemed like a thing of chaos, to question his leaders, his elders who would surely know better.

Yet now?

The seed to question had been planted. Had taken root and hold. He would not be so blind going forewards. Not after all that had transpired.

[Lieutenant Ransomite]

The comfort of Negaspace was no real comfort at all, Ransomite equally eased and unsettled by how familiar and soothing the chaos energy around him felt. The images of youmafication were still flashing across his eyes, the images of death and suffering. It resulted in his expression being a little too blank, a little too flat and neutral as a cold sweat beaded at the nape of his neck.

What was wrong with him?

He was safe here, wasn't he?

He swallowed, hard. Of course he was safe there. He was safest there, safer there than anywhere else.


------------------------

Cadet Yddagen

Oh, he did not like this.

Oh, he did not like this at all.

"Ah." His response to Lysvi's assessment--that Queen Laurelite was mocking Commodore Lyndin--was just as quiet as the assessment had been in the first place. He supposed he could see where Lysvi's analysis was coming from, but it was hard to tell Lyndin's reaction through the strain of the battle. What he could tell, though, was that something wasn't right in the air. What that was, he could not enumerate, but it crawled down the back of his neck and settled in his spine, drumming cold little legs on his vertebrae.

He looked around to the other cadets, trying to gauge their reactions if he could, trying to block out Queen Laurelite's voice beyond the essential information. He found her voice especially unpleasant for reasons he could not elucidate. At least, not beyond the obvious, the way it made him feel like a hunted thing and the way it made something deep inside of him urge him to stay within Lyndin's sight at all costs.

Lt. Akaganeite

The new Lieutenant did not resist, when she felt Laurelite reach out to scoop her up. The generator in the middle looked as if it was ready to go. There was nothing more to be done. Their enemies were utterly defeated. They would likely die on that field, and Akaganeite found that she was rather alright with that. Even though something tugged at her chest and said that she ought not be. That there was something she was missing--and if she just understood, if she just remembered...

Butt here was no point in such thoughts. She had no memory. As far as she knew, she had been spawned on that field by Chaos itself--although she found that prospect somewhat doubtful, since that would require an effort that she hardly expected she was worth.

Shje still held her bokken, not that it was particularly useful anymore. after all, she was no longer in danger, or in combat. (Well. she was fairly certain she had never been in danger. There had been far too many people who were stronger than her and on her side around for her to have ever been in danger. So...well. In combat was at least correct, she supposed.)

She looked for Aquamarine, when she found herself in this new place, but hesitated to bother him--he had given her orders on the battlefield, but that did not mean that she had any right to attach herself to him like some sort of unfortunate limpet. Perhaps she would be expected to simply figure things out on her own. Perhaps clinging on would make her look weak. Foolish. Unworthy.

Or perhaps she was expected to ask questions, and failing to do so would make her seem lazy and derelict. Ugh, it was difficult to know, and there weren't exactly any clues. So she decided that the best move was to wait, and hope that someone had an answer for her. She hated it--waiting for others' directions, she was beginning to think, wasn't in her nature--but she could see no better option.

So she took in the scene before he.r Listened to Laurelite's words, felt the warm caress of Metallia's pleasure flow through her. And if she knew nothing else, she knew in that moment that she belonged here.

Perhaps she had not before. Perhaps the person she was would have wanted to struggle and fight, would have hated finding herself bound to the will of the Negaverse. She did not know. But it hardly mattered now, because she was here.

She cast her eyes around the room, and let them settle on the strange alien and his little gaggle of ducklings. Poor b*****d, he looked exhausted, and the way Laurelite was talking, it sounded like he was getting the raw end of the deal. Some instinct in her said that anyone who talked that much about how generous they were being wasn't being generous--they were winning.

Well. That made her happier to be here. Better to be on the side that was holding all the cards, she supposed.

Captain Idrialite

Idrialite wanted to stay. Wanted to remain with Eva--go wherever she was going--but he didn't have a choice. Laurelite wasn't going to let him hang around, and to stay would be treason. Death, practically immediately, he suspected. And then there would be no point to any of this. So, as the warm, purple glow wrapped around him, he squeezed her tight.

"I'll be home as soon as I can," he promised, and he meant it. And then he let her go, and let the light pull him away. It was the last thing he wanted, and he was left with a feeling of cold desolation as he was carried off to Negaspace.

There was no sense of disapproval from Laurelite, or from Metallia, in his heart--perhaps his treason truly had gone totally unnoticed. Or perhaps it was simply so small that they didn't care.

Or maybe he was distracted by the blood loss.

Even on his knees, even bolstered as he was by being in Negaspace and in the presence of the very being that gave him his power, he wobbled slightly. It was an act of will to stay as upright as he was. But there were creatures moving among them to give medical treatment, and Idrialite was silent as one of them moved to check his back. He would not die here, he was certain of that much. He had far too much to live for. And far too much to start planning for.

But he shoved those thoughts down. In Laurelite's presence--in Metallia's--it was deeply unsafe to think too deeply of treason. But he knew what he wanted. His choice was made. It would just be a matter of arrangements.

And before any of that, he would have to get home to Eva. And that meant being patient. Waiting. Cooperating. Especially since his wounds were being treated right there, on sight.

Even with the pain dulled, it was not exactly pleasant to have shrapnel removed from his back, even by efficient medic-youma hands. The creature was fast, and spindly, with many arms that were dedicated to their task, and Idrialite appreciated its effeiciency.

"Jacket off," the youma demanded. "Any undershirt too." He nodded, undoing and removing his uniform top to give the creature access to finish cleaning and bandaging his wounds.

He wasn't bleeding out. That was a positive. he could still feel all his limbs, so his spine wasn't damaged. He didn't feel as if any vital organs had been punctured, although he wasn't sure he'd know, but he suspected that he would be dead by now if they were. So that was positive, at least. He could be relatively assured that he wasn't going to drop dead in the middle of this celebration.

That was step one.

Step two was to get home. Once the medic youma was finished with him--his torso was practically covered in bandages, which made him wince--he started looking for an exit. He could run now, he suspected, and no one would think any worse of it--he was injured--but he didn't want eyes on him.

He just had to keep his head down for a little bit longer.

Corrupt Hylonome

At first she was alarmed - although for what reason she was not totally certain of. There had been no time to reply to the senshi that she had inadvertently tripped on the field of battle before a purple glow surrounded her. In one moment she was there - looking towards what appeared to be the main power source that someone had fashioned into a weapon getting ready to explode and then the next moment she had been whisked away.

Turquoise eyes lit up in wonder at the sight of the throne room. Eyes expressed mild confusion then. How was it that she had never been here before and yet the place felt warm & welcoming: felt like home?

No matter how confused Hylonome was she moved to grasp the hand of the one that had been apparently watching over her on the battlefield. Her voice, melodic and soft, wrapped around Hatsya alone, "I'm glad you're alright. I would have felt bad if you'd been injured after such a timely mishap. To answer your question though: I believe that I too am alright. Admittedly though I am confused about why that even though I don't recognize this place - that I feel a warm sense of belonging."

When Prehnite came to join their group along with another senshi like her (Mizuki) and a creature (Iolanthe) that Hylonome didn't recognize - she shrank back for a moment. The strangeness of the situation kept growing. Added to the interesting sensation of belonging to this place - Hylonome had also noticed that her hair appeared like it had seen several years of growth and also the cracked hole in her chest. It did not cause her any pain and she gently probed at the edges before her attention was drawn to Prehnite's question to her. Her fingers still continued to gently tease the hole in her chest before finding her voice, "If I'm being at all honest, I'm more than eighty percent confused about what is happening. I have so many questions that I want to ask but I feel as though that will just lead to more and more confusion. So I'm guessing that I'm mostly fair at the moment. I don't hurt anywhere - not really, and besides the fact that I don't know where I am ... I'm okay with this location."

She took in the group again before noticing that the creature was braiding the hair of the one that had tripped over her with deft movements and she was just a bit curious if such a thing could be done with her own, new longer looking, hair.

Cadet Cypher

Disoriented and confused, a feeling and emotion that seemed to echo throughout the throne room. He caught the murmur of several agents expressing that they didn't recognize this place and like him, had no idea what was going on.

Blaster still raised as it had been while on the hillside, Cypher moved cautiously so that he stood beside Fysarius. While his trust in Lyndin was definitely starting to falter, he would still stand beside his fellow cadets. But let not anyone be confused that whatever trust still lingered, did not extend to the teal haired woman with the coy grin.



Corrupt Sailor Hatsya

It was difficult to hide her surprise.

Prehnite didn't offer praises freely. In fact, she couldn't recall him offering her one at all prior to a moment ago. A tolerable co-existence beneath the same roof and this was, in all honesty, only the second time she'd seen him smile like this. Granted the last time he'd been drunk but it didn't diminish the fact she preferred him like this.

At least the two new corrupts (Mizuki and Hylonome) got a much warmer welcome than she did. A s**t show in a handbasket of miscommunication and assumptions when she'd been all but forced upon him. But when actually chosen by Prehnite to be something he wanted as his, it was interesting to see how concerned he was about their wellbeing and how well he played nice.

Hatsya's expression softened when the Corrupt she had been asked to protect took hold of her hand. "I'm ok," a small lie hid behind a reassuring smile and a gentle squeeze. She'd lost her composure not once but twice and embarrassed herself as a first impression. If any of her dignity was salvageable it would be decided upon what was said next.

"You're both safe here," wouldn't lie to either of them and say that the White Moon can't follow them as they had done that once before several years ago. How, she still wasn't sure; but it'd happened once before when aliens were involved and might very well happen again if they weren't careful. "Prehnite is a very capable Captian" He'd have to be, especially if this team he was building continued to grow as exponentially as it appeared to be.

Without much warning, her back stiffened at the sudden sensation of sharp claws combing through her hair, parting it into sections and a careful tug and it was woven into braids. The residual effect from her earlier introduction purely derived from the knowledge that Youma did not particularly care much for Senshi, corrupts included.

Hatsya craned her head back and looked up at Iolanthe as another flower was placed in her hair. Consequences be damned, she summoned a small golden bead of energy and offered it to her as a measure of gratitude and thanks for her earlier protection. With all the other Youma present she didn't want to cause a frenzy so for now this would have to do.