Welcome to Gaia! ::

Carefully, Lellouch slid from Bazzite's shoulders, but the blonde never strayed from outside of his reach. Bazzi could still grab and pull her back if he felt the need too. "Never a dull moment around here huh Hun?" Lellouch mumbled, with a small irritated laugh as she looked at the last three youma. A cat like creature took a step towards her before leaping at her, latching onto her arm. The senshi yelped as it dug its claws into skin. "******** that hurts..." She hissed as she made a grab for the scruff of its neck. Unfortunately, tearing the creature from her person resulted in long jagged marks that curled from the back towards the front of her arm. Though, letting the creature stay where it was wasn't too appealing either.

"Remind me never to find out what it's like to be on the other side of your claws Baz..." She grumbled before dropping to a knee and bashing the smaller youma's skull in. "Think you can take those two or should we split it?"

(Youma: 2/6)

The slow burn of anger set fire to Cinnabar's limbs, but she forced it down, keeping her mind clear of the distraction as monsters slashed and grabbed for her. She couldn't afford, just now, to think too hard about just what the hell was going on. Why the general had called them here and then set the youma on them... why they were fighting for their lives against what was supposed to be their servants and allies. It was too much and it threatened to blaze up without the iron fist the lieutenant kept clenched around it.

Dripping blood still, leaving a trail of droplets across the crystal, Cin dodged and rolled, pushing herself back more into the group of agents. Closer to help, should she need it, or to give it. Something twisted and monkey-like skittered after her, feet slapping the floor in a rapid patter, and the lietenant kicked out at it as it sprung for her. At the last minute, it seemed to ooze out in dark tendrils that wrapped around her ankle and the officer let out a screech of pain as acid ate through her boot and into skin. As Cinnabar fell to the ground, she kicked at it with her other boot and it cried out as it exploded into dust and left the dark haired woman writhing in pain for a few precious moments.

(youma:3/6)

"Good," he replied looking her over in case there was any sort of damage he should be concerned about. When he didn't find any, his attention redirected to the matter at hand. His pack of youma had dwindled, but not enough as five still trudged toward him.

While he had enough stamina to get through this whole ordeal, his patience was wearing thin. "I'm tired of this," he muttered beneath his breath as he twirled his scythe in his fingers, preparing for the next launch. He glanced back at Erythrite and offered her half a smile. "Keep your back close to mine, that way none of them can catch us from behind," he instructed turning his attention back to the enemy just as one attacked.

This time the youma didn't even get close enough to do damage before the blade of his weapon sliced it's underbelly open and it turned to dust. Unfortunately, he was unprepared to handled an aerial assault as a bird-like youma swooped down at him and dug it's claws into his face. He ripped the youma away before it could do enough damage to scar and smashed it's face into his knee.

Two down, three to go.


3/8 youma remaining

The pair of youma fixated on his approached at a quick clip, one sporting distorted human characteristics with a gaping maw at its chest while the other seemingly struggled to support a gargantuan arm equipped with sharp spines at its purported fingertips. As the latter youma thrust its bulbous arm into the ground, the earth beneath his feet erupted upward with small tentacles fitted with spines like knives. One struck easily into the sole of his boot, sticking him directly in the foot. Wincing, Bischofite limped backward to maintain space from such an attack, though the former monster soon trundled after him at its awkward, sinewy gait.

In his efforts to space himself from the deadly pair, Bischofite encountered a lieutenant still sieged by youma, yet lying on the ground in the throes of pain. Gold eyes narrowed, features bristling as he eyed the girl, but he lacked the time to rebuke her for her folly extensively. Already his pair of assailants closed in on his position, and he watched the farther youma wind up to thrust its arm into the ground once more.

Loosing a chakram, the weapon caught between the teeth in the chest of the closer youma. No luck - he'd have to engage at closer quarters while watching his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Malicious watching from atop a crystal, features laced with delight at his predicament. Curiously a handful of utterly fitting lyrics echoed through his head while he assessed the situation.

All these fickle beasts
Heaven hath rejected, lapping
Glory from our teats
Each of them is tested, blessed
Cast down for your sin
Come here for redemption

We've got grace for cheap
We've got grace for cheap
Lest you end up bested, lost and torn to shreds, dissected!

"Get up, Lieutenant!" He barked over his shoulder. "Pain garners change, and unless you want to remain ze same stagnant grunt zat you are, get up and fight until your ankle melts away beneas' your weight! Ze youma haf' zeir convictions, so show me yours! Show me you're wors' more zan a meal to beasts long evolved from friends, neighbors and former officers!" As he spoke, he engaged the toothy menace before him, with his remaining charkam aimed for the shrunken and convulsing head topping the creature. His initial strike missed and brought him precariously close to his own weapon, but the backswing successfully beheaded the monstrosity.

However, the ground before his feet peeled upward once more and the host of tentacles snaked about his ankle before piercing into his calf. In an effort to retaliate, Bischofite loosed both chakrams toward the distant creature. Between the pair, the youma sustained enough damage to dissipate, not long after the general felt a foreign heat forcing its way through his calf.

"Are you ready to face me, General?" A lilting voice called as the crowlike youma descended from her perch, lighting atop various jutting crystals on her way down. "Or did you bring the starseed like I asked?"

(1/10)

An audible laugh peeled from his lips as he dispatched his weapon toward the lieutenant. With a mouth like that, she exhibited very little interest in authority... A delightful change of pace in comparison to the stuffy, oppressive need to adopt a structured chain of respect. Even so, she managed well enough on her own against the horde of youma that threatened to overtake her. The remainder of their ranks sported similar perseverance - would luck have it that he surrounded himself with a large group of capable subordinates? Or did youma truly lack the ability to match their human counterparts in terms of strength?

However, the lilting, whimsical phrasing of the white-haired youma drew his attention with a visceral sneer. Gold eyes settled on her short, unimpressive visage while she approached, and he met her question with ample irritation. "If I brought ze starseed, do you sink any number of zese youma would target my allies? Why eat garbage, why eat taint if I housed a sizable, pure starseed on my uniform?" Spreading his arms, he taunted her readily. "I brought you nossing more zan disappointment, Malicious."

"I should've expected that from you, General," came her equally flippant reply. A clawed finger pressed against the corner of her mouth as she cocked her head quizzically. "You like to disappoint people because you think it's fun. You think they never see it coming, not from someone able to command lieutenants and captains. Most of them don't, and while you think it's such a naughty little game, you're only ruining your own reputation in the end, General. Who will come to aid Bischofite when he calls for help? Not these officers, your allies. Not the youma that you dusted here."

With a gasp and a flutter of her feathers, Malicious imitated shock. "Not even... me." Pressing a hand to her chest, she leaned backward slightly. The sounds of brewing battle drowned out the gasps emanating from her back.

Bischofite looked on stoically. "Even if my allies abandon me, you forget zat youma cannot resist an order. Look at zem - your family - watch as zey fight to ze deas' against zese officers from a mere command! If nossing else, I will always maintain ze unwavering obedience of our posthuman allies. Even you." Readying his weapons despite the rancorous pains in his punctured arm and leg, Bischofite launched himself toward the youma.

What he never predicted was the blistering shriek emanating from the numerous mouths dotting her back, the cacophony of horror let loose on breath alone. He faltered, momentarily stunned from either its harrowing tones or sheer volume alone, while only his eyes glanced toward the impending claws poised for his face. Before he regained hold over his own body, the crowlike youma tore into his face with her jagged, carapace-encrusted claws.

He winced, the pain burning across his face, but he forced himself through the bleeding agony by feinting toward her. As expected, she recoiled backward to dodge, straight into his teleported strike. Some of her mouths split into one another, and a black, oily substance oozed from the gash.

Malicious rounded on her foe, only to feel his firm grip strike her neck almost immediately. One single hand closed around her narrow throat easily enough, and with both clawed hands digging deeply into his forearm, she sought to physically peel away his grasp, even if it entailed cleaving arm from body. A sharp hiss shot out from lips peeled in disgust, and she kicked toward the general as he lifted her hollow-boned body from the ground. "This isn't how you win your way into my good graces, General! I thought we had a deal!" Even as she spoke, the strangulation stood evident in her voice.

"Incite betrayal and expect its gaze upon yourself, Malicious. Don't forget your own hand in constructing zis endeavor." In light of her struggles, Bischofite raised his remaining chakram to the slim remainder of her marble throat, not yet engulfed by black gloves. "It looks like I'f altered our agreement - eizer join me, or explode into ash like your allies."

Malicious' struggles petered out into complacent silence.

"Good." Releasing the youma, he eyed the black-haired lieutenant one final time. Perhaps he'd stick around for the show, perched atop a crystal much like Malicious sat just moments prior.

Yes, he could treat himself to observations now.

(0/10)

Her last challenge came just as she brushed her hands free of ash- a slithering appendage slipped around her neck like a noose from above. Sticky, long, it drew her up off the ground. The sudden force of her own weight no her neck was briefly disconcerting, but the captain kept her head- time for a rope climb.

Hand-over-hand, legs free, she peeled her palms free of the tongue and gripped higher and higher until she found the ledge and amphibian-like body of the owner of the appendage. She pushed, climbing out of the suspension and dove onto it before it could leap away.

She tore it piece by piece apart, digging nails in like knives.

Then she breathed, as only ash remained around her neck, and looked from the small ledge down at the gather. How many breath, how many still dance?

[ 0/5 Youma ]

Aloysius stood facing a few of the youma that had surrounded him, they all had different shapes and sizes. He really didn't like being surrounded but it was quite amusing to here the chatter of those also fighting the creatures. Talks of random things as well as the talk of the youma themselves could be heard from where he stood yet he only could recognize the voice of a few of them. One being Lellouch who seemed to be handling herself far better than he was.

He dodged a bunch of them before stepping towards a small one that he had knocked out of the air with his bow. He quickly curb stomped it before preparing himself to deal with another one. These youma were persistent indeed, he tried his best to outpace some while he fought off others. This would be a long fight indeed and he would not come out of this completely intact at this rate. Part of him didn't mind but at the same time he would have preferred to observe the youma in a less violent way.

It was good fighting practice at least, not that he was sure that curb stomping would be a fighting tactic he would use often against senshi and knights. At least until he was better over all or at a severe advantage.

[9/11 Youma]

Bischofite panted heavily as he recovered breath expended on the prolonged fight. Leaning against the large crystal formation, he devoted some time to looking over his wounds. His arm appeared particularly shredded, given the numerous puncture holes from the spined suckers in addition to other incurred injuries. Adrenaline had not yet left him; he knew with certainty that he'd suffer the brunt of his injuries upon returning home.

Bischofite drew a thin sigh through clenched teeth as he tore off the remainder of his coat sleeve. The jerk disturbed his wounds, but not terribly. Just before he set toward wrapping the injury, a lieutenant he never previously met approached in incredulity. He snorted softly, gold eyes fixating on her features. Tan. Red eyes. Black hair. Not terribly remarkable beyond the sheer volume of anger present in her voice and countenance.

"It is as you see," he answered simply. You eliminated your immediate threats, did you not? Surely by then you deduced the whole of this little exercise. How disappointing that you didn't die to their endeavors. Tearing the ring of sleeve into a strip with his teeth, the tattered fabric hung from his mouth for a moment while he regarded her. Afterward he tended to the injury between teeth and hand to secure pressure on the wound. "A test of strengs'. Our comrades measure our resolf'e, our wors' on ze battlefield wis' zeir lives. Zose who perish to an onslaught of youma haf' no chance against ze enemy. And one youma dusted by a lieutenant here today might find zat same youma as zeir own when captaincy is achieved. While a steep cost in energy, it will be wors'while in ze end."

With his sleeve secured about his bicep, Bischofite shifted his weary gaze toward the lieutenant. "Or does duplicity render all my aims irrelevant to you? I suspect it does. Zose possessed by righteousness often find zemselfs too blinded to see reason." And then she seized his coat. How quaint... A low laugh coated in mirth rose from his throat.

But now is not the time to talk of such philosophies... You forget that youma still roil about us, even if we ourselves secured a small calm in the storm.

Surely enough, a youma built of centipede proportions yet bearing long, human arms crawled slowly toward the lieutenant. It raised itself proper, standing at a towering seven feet, with arms fanned out in a monstrous rendition of an embrace. The creature's mandibles chittered slightly before it leaned to one side, a set of arms tucking inward before loosing a backhand toward the lieutenant.

Bischofite watched with his peripherals, offering no facial indications of the danger lurking behind.