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Captian Lavendulan - canteen

"If you're in need of volunteers, I'd like to help." There was no hesitation in her offer.

The only reason she had come over to the canteen was because once the tents were all set up, there would be officers looking for food and it gave her a good reason to keep her hands and mind busy. Without this task, her thoughts would end up wandering to topics she’d really rather not think about right now.

Lavendulan picked up one of the cans and peeled back the lid before dumping the contents in one of the pots; a motion she repeated several more times until it was about two-thirds full. However, she paused in her preparation when a loud rumbling sound echoed through the campsite.

She had heard of the wild storms, even seen one far off in the distance the first time Wolframite had brought her into the Rift. But that did not mean she was at all prepared to be standing beneath it when the purple lightening snaked its way across the sky above them. While she had managed to hold onto the startled yelp, there was no hiding the way her claws punctured the side of the can she had been holding onto.

Embarrassed by her reaction, Laven set the empty can aside with a quiet apology then picked up the bag of seasoning while Faustite waited for Kamacite to join him.

Corrupt Eternal Kamacite

Kamacite made a mental note to himself that he needed to just remain standing at this point, because getting up and down was exhausting, and his arm hurt, and he had no idea what Faustite was planning, and the rumbling in the distance didn’t need to remind him why he hated the Rift, but instead it was like a nagging presence that would always come back.

Carefully, he pushed himself back up to his feet when Cymophane called to him. He was sure his friend could split his time between Reidite and himself, and really… Kamacite just needed someone to hold the bandage still long enough for him to wrap it haphazardly around his arm.

While the ominous thunder and purple lightning and distant rumbling didn’t make him jump, hearing his name called did. He clasped a hand over his chest as he turned to see General Lopezite approach, and while his shoulders lost some of the tension, his heart was still beating a mile a minute.

“Oh… I’m not busy,” he said as he brushed some of the hacked off hair that had escaped his ponytail out of his face, and he was very much ignoring how his cheeks decided to heat at the idea of someone asking to pick his brain about… the Rift… which was a terrible subject, but it was actually kind of nice that someone other than Cymophane and Faustite and Roselite thought he was worth talking to for more than an introduction, not that he didn’t greatly appreciate Cymophane and Faustite and Roselite’s friendships because he would have been utterly lost and alone without them, as he had been for the past two years until he met Misha, and then Jonah, and now Faustite was back, which was nice, but he seemed to be a bit more volatile than usual or maybe he was always that volatile and Kamacite didn’t notice, but he did notice Lopezite’s striking golden eyes and wavy black hair and how he’d been nice enough not to harass him about his injury both in front of their peers or alone and--

Out of the corner of his eye he could see General Faustite beckoning him over.

“Oh…” he mumbled, deflating just a little, but he knew they were still in the middle of a mission and needed to get things done. “I’m really sorry. I’ll… I need to get my arm. But thank you,” he said politely, nodding his head to Lopezite, feeling like he needed to apologize for needing to hurry up and get his arm looked at.

He spared another quick glance at Faustite, hoping he understood that he would be right over, and shuffled over to where Cymophane was inspecting Reidite’s arm, and then glanced over at General Lopezite and deflated some more.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized to Cymophane, knowing he was just trying to help him. “Faustite needs me. If you wouldn’t mind just… wrapping it. It should be fine. Thank you. I think the bleeding has stopped,” he explained, since it had all dried to the robe that was now stuck to his arm.

Lieutenant Carnallite

“He’s not suited for this and you know it,” Carnallite countered, though her voice lacked heat.

They’d had this same conversation enough times over the last several months that her arguments were beginning to lose energy. She didn’t truly care anymore, she simply had to take the opportunity when it presented itself to remind Bloodstone that she thought Roselite was a terrible idea, since he never seemed to listen before.

He wouldn’t listen now, either. Really, she was just wasting her breath at this point.

Carnallite sighed and snagged a bunch of food that didn’t need to be cooked. A fire seemed unlikely in this place, what with the lack of kindling. There was Faustite, but there were also other matters for him to attend to that had nothing to do with making sure the peons had a warm meal.

The dismal fare hardly fazed Carnallite. She ate worse back in college.

“What’ve you thought of our colleagues?” she asked to change the subject. “It’s almost a shame we didn’t get more action. I’d’ve liked to assess their abilities more thoroughly.”

No doubt there’d be time for that soon enough.

Corrupt Eternal Kamacite

“I’ll be okay,” Kamacite promised Cymophane, but he kept his head down as he held out his arm for Cymophane to quickly wrap it, or at least as best he could with his robes in the way. It was better this way, anyway. With the extra padding he wouldn’t have to worry as much about getting injured again. And he could still move his fingers, so the wound couldn’t have been that bad.

At least it didn’t seem as painful as the quills that were stuck in Reidite’s shoulder. Kamacite cringed a little at the sight of the spines poking out of the Russian man’s shoulder, and quickly looked away before he felt too grossed out.

“You can use my tent if you want. I don’t know how long I’ll be,” he said quietly, guiltily, because he knew Cymophane cared about him, but he had a job to do. He agreed to take on this mission with Faustite. He’d fought the youma before, and he needed to find a resolution.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, and then stepped forward so he could reach out to wrap his good arm around Cymophane’s shoulders to hug him. He rested his chin on his friend’s shoulder for a few moments, before finally pulling away.

All that was left was to help Faustite with whatever it was he needed.

And Kamacite had a fairly good idea what it was. Part of the team got separated, he’d said. They were going to need to find them before it was too late.

He spared a sympathetic glance towards General Lopezite, before ducking his head down and making his way--

Oh, Faustite had already moved.

Self-consciously, he lifted his hand and sleeve to hide what he could of his bandaged arm. It was a quickly done job, per his request, but it kept extra dirt out, and he hoped it would be enough. He could hear part of what he was saying to Aquamarine and Jet, and waited patiently close by, his head down.

General Aquamarine

Aquamarine watched Faustite approach, watched him shift his weight, watched Kamacite shuffle close after him. He let Jet talk first because Jet was better at it, but he couldn’t keep his own mouth shut when he had the chance to open it.

“You going on your own, or is he lurking about because he’s going with you?” he asked, too tired for his usual hostility. The conversational tone he took might sound odd coming from him, but Aquamarine couldn’t be bothered to care at the moment.

“You sure it’s even a good idea? He’s injured,” Aquamarine nodded toward Kamacite, “And those agents knew what they signed up for.”

He didn’t mention that an intended rescue mission could turn into a recovery mission very quickly, if it wasn’t one already, but his tone didn’t exactly hide the thought either. Admirable as the intention was — and the part of Aquamarine that would do anything for Jet could empathize, if he let himself — he couldn’t help but think of all the ways it could go horribly wrong.

“The last thing we need is for you to go missing along with them.”

General Benitoite


"There is a need for all kinds of people, it's needed in this war. Not every one is good at desk work but it needs to get done, and people with other skills are needed as well. We need doctors, and others who know medicine, we also need people who can set up new identities for people. There is also, without a doubt, a need for those with survivile skills and those who can fight and kill." As it was needed - this was a war.

Reaching out to place a gloved hand on the others shoulder. "Outside of events liek this you don't need to call me sir. I'd say you shouldn't here as well but others might think differently. Personally, I'm not one for titles." Shrugging his shoulders a bit.

"Thank you for the help, and if you need help with anything let me know. Part of my job is to help and guide." And he took it seriously. He would give confidence where it was needed by others. He would assure others of their posistion and the need for them as well. He did what was needed for his fellow officers to do their best - to become their best selves. "Have you set up a tent for yourself yet?"

Rubling came first followed by a crack of lightening that forked across the sky. There didn't need to be rain, did it ever even rain down here? It didn't matter though as he was certain rain was not meant to follow this up. This seemed like some sort of a threat to the gathered group. As the area was lit up he moved as close to the Lieutenants side as he could. "Perhaps you best stay at my side and we find a few others to keep close to us." For safety reasons, because he didn't even feel completely safe right now. He knew the sort of youma they were after and he was sure it was capable of a lot - it was dangerous.

[Super Sailor Nembus]

No one had ever -- Nembus' mind came to a screeching halt as she attempted to copy the motions that Thorite was doing, all while trying to figure out what exactly Thorite was doing. Why was he doing extra motions? What did they mean? What were their purposes? Were-- oh! Recognition lit up on her face once she drew her hand back to herself. A secret handshake. She had never had a secret handshake.

She would have to see if she could memorize it for the next time someone attempted a secret handshake.

Nembus took note that Ransomite was apparently adopted -- well, maybe he sympathized with the concept of not knowing his parents, then, although it probably wasn't the same because he probably still had parents, unlike her, who definitely had no parents to speak of -- "Well, hope this is a good reminder, then," Nembus paused, before adding, quietly, "or that this is a better adoption than yours?" She had no idea.

Thorite seemed hesitant, and Ransomite seemed willing to just let Thorite and Albite have the tent. She couldn't help the thought that considering the way Thorite and Albite had greeted each other, perhaps that was for the best; of course, though, they were dealing with Albite, and he would take absolutely no kind of no for an answer, already giving a whole list of reasons why the four of them definitely needed to stick together.

One, best to fill the tent entirely, two, Albite had already made the tent, three, they were all youma food -- "Oh, thanks!" -- oh good, she had made the right choice! Nembus beamed a bit with pride. Her research had been correct. Beans were a great camping food.

With the beans and the leftovers, they'd be set!

Her attention was pulled away from her brief excitement by the sound of a thunder crack. The purple lightning that stretched across the sky afterward made Nembus think of herself and also made her hair stand on end. She was grateful when it rolled away from them, rubbing her arms protectively and hoping to ease her goosebumps. "Ah, maybe we should just," she looked out to where Albite had set up the apparent tent the four of them would be apparently sharing, "I think I like the idea of just sharing stories and eating food, maybe."

The lightning was a good reminder that they were still in the Rift, and maybe it was best they were not standing targets.