Welcome to Gaia! ::

Promethei, Page of Mercury
HP: 50
Action: Born. To. Rage. Onwards in generator destruction!
Damage: 10 + 3 (rank) + 1 (faction) = 14
Location: F4 -> F2

A -- child? A child showed up and then the generator blasted more energy into the sky.

Perhaps that beam would have registered to him as a worse thing if it wasn't for the sickening energy that was pressing deep into his starseed, deep into his soul--

His breathing became harsher.

The excessive yapping of the general near the remnants of the generator wasn't helping.

His ears felt like they were ringing.

"Shut up!" Promethei barked. He clenched his fist and let out a low growl, feeling the anger that boiled as the Chaos washed over and through him, momentarily flipping the symbol on his jacket in the opposite direction as he pressed so hard into his hands it bled. He was sending more of his own after them, wasn't he? More of his own. More of Promethei's own. More of those who wanted to partake in the joy of Chaos--

No.

There were better places to redirect this.

Brusquely, Promethei brushed by Imhotep and practically stomped after Caliban to the nearest generator.

He smashed his fist into it.

Super Sailor Phaethon of Happiness
HP: 75 - 15 (Prehnite) - 15 (Wolframite) + 10 (himself) = 55/75
Action: Running awaaaaay a lil to regather himself
Damage: 1d10 + 5 = n/a
Location: B2 -> C2

So much was happening, so much at one time, that Phaethon couldn't actually process any of it. There were lasers. There was light, bursts of it, off to the side, but Phaethon couldn't tell what was happening there. He only had to hope that it wasn't anything bad, that the situation wasn't getting worse than it already was. And yet, he knew it was getting worse, if not there then elsewhere on the field.

Especially when that laser fired.

Especially when something sickening flowed across the grass and engulfed all of them. Phaethon felt like he was choking, choking on it. Choking on the miasma that crept its way through his skin into the deepest part of himself. It was only the sight of the senshi he'd tried to heal (Hydor) running that brought him out of it enough to follow vaguely behind this stranger.

People were dying.

A laugh bubbled up from Phaethon's throat, but it was not a happy sound. He felt that miasma push at him, and he wasn't sure how much focus he had to resist it. Oh, he tried. But the next laugh was giddier. Breathless. He looked up to the sky, where the look of it matched the feeling inside of him.

With a thin shred of desperation, he murmured under his breath, rubbing his hands together and sweeping them briefly upward. A silent plea went with the words, though Phaethon found that though it did help his injuries feel better...

He did not like the way the laugh afterward felt.

Transcendent Super Anser
HP: -14/75
Action: KO'd
Damage: --
Location: D6

Ow.

Anser growled lowly at the people who apparently decided that she was the easiest target in the area. They would not distract her focus. The generator needed to go. The blasts coming from it were the problem. She didn't give any notice to what was happening toward the center console, infinitely more concerned about taking the machine in front of her down.

Well.

That was until she saw her new friend who had tried to heal her fall beside her, and anger filled her. She turned that anger to the lieutenants that had hit her. She turned that anger to the people around her.

She felt woozy.

Her legs dropped out from underneath her.

And as she felt the sickening sensation around her, pressing on her, pressing as hard as it could against the shine of the starseed in her chest and failing to get in any closer because of the connection she felt to the source of her power, she roared.

But there was nothing she could do about it because she was stuck on the ground, and her world was swimming.

Richtersveld, Page of Pluto
HP: 35/50
Action: Little freaked out. Attacking the generator but also backing away from it.
Damage: 7 + 3 (rank bonus) + 1 (faction) = 11
Location: B6 -> B5

That was not a good feeling.

The murky sensation that pushed out from the miasma made Richtersveld clutch at her chest, and she winced, pulling and grabbing and yanking as she tried to get the sensation off herself. Whatever this was, she could tell she didn't like it.

She didn't like it at all.

She felt it crawling along her arms and legs, felt it in the way her shoes seemed to feel spikier, heavier, pointier, taller. She felt it in the way her necklace shifted to become something less golden, more tarnished. She felt it in the way she couldn't keep her mind on track, the way the dark smile that she had seen on some of those who were deep in the throes of Chaos crept onto her face, the way she felt like everything was heavier, weightier--

No.

No.

The youma in front of the generator had backed into it and was swallowing the head of a fellow whole. She felt sick to her stomach. She felt oddly gleeful. She felt broken, mixed, confused, chaotic.

She lashed out.

And she ran.

Lieutenant Ransomite
HP: 50 - 11 = 39 - 5 = 34 - 13 = 21/50
Action: Attacking Sailor Alcor and taking the 13 damage Shanyume mentioned
Damage: 1d10 + 3 + 3 + 5 = 16 DMG
Location: D6

'Our Father, who art in Heaven.'

Ransomite saw the beam arc toward the comet, saw the generator explode. He felt the waves of Chaos pulse across the battlefield and sweep across nearly everyone present. Nearly, because there seemed to be a scant few--the Princess, some others--who seemed better able to resist its pull than others. It was at the least a distraction to the other side where it wasn't driving them to madness.

'Hallowed be Thy name.'

Ransomite, himself, felt invigorated. A second wind, really. His grip on his weapons, light though they were, strengthened. He felt more sure-footed, more stable, more clear-headed.

He saw the senshi nearby (Alcor) who seemed to be struggling to stand or stay standing.

He shifted his grip on his weapon.

'Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done.'

Ransomite lashed out at her.

Corrupt Super Sailor Nembus
HP: 75
Action: Taking a very brisk walk away from Adorea, even if she's kinda internally cheering her on. Trying not to be perceived. Does see a White Moon friend making a very disturbing laugh.
Damage: --
Location: D3 -> C2

Honestly, those were all interesting theories, and as Adorea talked them out, Nembus quickly added them to her notes -- could a planet reject a senshi it didn't like? did the way his planet suffer not quite work with the way his starseed ended up? what happened if a senshi didn't awaken? did they always need a cat? It seemed like the Negaverse had ways to upgrade without cats, but was it required for awakening--or was it?

The more she thought about it, the more she thought she might have been a better fit for Information, after all. Perhaps she should contact Faustite for a transfer.

-- Later. If everyone lived. If she even still wanted to be here. Perhaps it was the strongest smack to the head that she had felt yet that encouraged her to leave. Encouraged her to get gone. Encouraged her to get out of the Negaverse while she still could, but then again, could she really? They were surrounded. Order was dying. Order was blinking out before their eyes. Order was becoming Chaos, and the Negaverse was consuming and attacking and leaving people bloodied on the ground and in crystals like that alien and--

Her brows rose in surprise when Adorea made her suggestion.

It was logical. If she was a medic, taking out the machine that seemed to be hurting people was the best bet. The problem was, from what Nembus was seeing, she was fairly sure the machine was hurting only the White Moon, and as much as she felt sick with more people sharing in the pain that wrenched her every inhuman moment, the nausea of being caught and punished and murdered or killed or eaten or tortured yanked at her more, and the euphoria she felt from the presence of Metallia's Chaos as the same time as Her Sickness prevented Nembus from following. She choked a "Good luck," as she watched Adorea pursue the console.

She wished she had that bravery.

But as it was, she was trying not to be perceived.

If she followed, surely a general-sovereign would notice her, and surely she would have her starseed removed and consumed at that moment.

Instead, she ran, and she ran toward a different generator but still where she could mix herself with those who were falling victim so perhaps she could blend in, and perhaps a general-sovereign would not perceive her, and she stopped in her tracks when she recognized the tone and timbre of the odd laughter next to her.

Worried, she murmured, "Peacock?"

She shouldn't sound so concerned. How well could the nearby general-sovereigns hear?

There was a generator splitting them, at least, and Phaethon was at least a head taller than her. She kept herself low.

General Sylvite
HP: 200/200
Action: Getting mad about the purification, attacking Alya
Damage 9 + 7 (rank bonus) + 5 (General bonus) + 10 (???) + 5 (round bonus) = 36
Location: D6

Something caught Sylvite's attention off in the distance.

The flash of light, burning and weird and gross. Sylvite had thought a little bit about how people left, given the circumstances. She'd imagined that moment when the Chaos got sucked out of them or something, leaving them traitors. She'd never actually seen it until now.

She saw the Princess, with her giant wings and her flashy powers. She saw her use that magic on someone. The first time, it was just a senshi she'd never met. Annoying, but she had bigger things to worry about right now.

The second time, though?

The second time, she was pretty sure it was Ochre.

He was the one who had taken her in once they'd figured out that his brother was gone. He'd gotten her out of a rut, gotten her a promotion, gotten her hot drinks that they'd shared on park benches on cold winter afternoons.

She knew he'd been keeping to himself for a little bit, but she hadn't been expecting this.

Hadn't been expecting him to just-

"mmmmmAAAHHHH!"

Her scream was one hundred percent annoyance, one hundred percent anger.

The device they were guarding seemed to activate, which was something, at least. Chaos was pulsing through every fiber of her being. She felt strong, and more than that, she could see how it was effecting some of the enemies around, how they were all getting black patches on their clothes, how they were about to get enveloped into the Negaverse.

Some of them were freaking out about it. Good. They deserved it.

She could only hope that when all this was over, they stayed.

Her underlings and Rakovanite's seemed to be doing a pretty good job defending the generator. The knight she'd stabbed first was down. The one who had been trying to goad her was now running off like a little coward, with the page who had gone after Feldspar.

Her eyes flicked to an Eternal Senshi, one who seemed to be growing claws. Now that was something.

She hadn't thought about people turning into youma before, but it kinda solved a lot of her problems. If they were youma, they could serve the Negaverse, still. They could live in the Rift, come out sometimes to help a little bit with missions. Then they'd go back to their own little world.

There wouldn't be any chance for them to, like, go running off to any Princesses.

She struck out towards his head with the pommel of her dagger, hoping that the Chaos energy that was in the air would do the rest.

Sailor Minkowski
HP: ko
Action: down the the count
Damage: —
Location: D6

To be able to help someone, especially one who had as readily declared her a friend as Anser did, gave Minkowski some small hope, ever fleeting as it was, that her weak healing magic could be of some help. That hope was ever so fleeting, though, when she made herself a target by using her magic, even if she had never made a move to attack the generator herself. Before she could attempt to get another heal cast off, Minkowski was targeted for attack, and it didn’t take much for her to go down.

As darkness closed in, and as Chaos attempted to take its hold, Minkowski couldn’t help but feel like once more, she had let everyone down. She had tried her best, but her best just was never enough, now was it…? Everyone… everyone was surely disappointed in her, the weak little butterfly that showed up to battles and never contributed anything of value.

Why had she been chosen to become a senshi in the first place…?