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Basiluzzo, Squire of Uranus

"I'll take it not standing a chance." Basiluzzo was gratified to see that a fair number of people had turned out to help with what Alastor needed. Whatever was there, it would make it a lot easier to handle the more people there were. Spread the load out, and all that.

He just hoped that it not standing a chance wasn't just false confidence on their parts. Basiluzzo shifted his weight from foot to foot to limber himself up. The red lightning was spooky, he could--and would--admit that! It was certainly atmospheric!

Basiluzzo had never been one much for horror media. Or, at least, not most contemporary horror media. Too many jump scares. Somehow, he wasn't getting the vibe that he'd be spared jump scares with whatever was going on with Alastor's world.

Well, there was no sense in getting himself worked up, was there? For all he knew, the chaos and darkness would be perfectly polite and not jump out at them from the shadows. Instead, it might confront them head on, face-to-face. Give them fair warning of its presence, and all.

He could hope, right?

"I hope nothing happens to the stained glass while we're here." It was probably really cool looking when not backlit by flashes of red light from beyond it. It was probably also important to Alastor. "It'd be a b***h to replace." How would Alastor even get a glassworker up here to look at it if any of the panes got broken?

Alright, that didn't matter. He needed to keep his thoughts on topic.

The topic of what was obviously going to be lurking in the shadows cast by the spooky lightning. Chaos was here, and that alone warranted the hair on the back of Basiluzzo's neck standing up. At least he didn't see any agents or anything. There was that small miracle.

He rubbed his arms to discharge the feeling of nervous static clinging to his body. "I'd say I'm hopeful, but I really don't want to jinx it."

-----

Sailor Ancha of Red Tide

"Oh, there's time. Don't you worry." At him eyeing her, Ancha raised an eyebrow. The hell was he looking at? What was she supposed to do with her arms? Just let them dangle there? It wasn't like her new duds came with pockets-- "Oh great, I love unknown chaotic forces." She rolled her neck in an unconscious mirror of Hydor.

"I spend a lot of time traveling, but I think I got the memo when this--" she gestured to herself and then re-crossed her arms, "happened. And the fact that this is worse doesn't surprise me as much as I'd have thought it would."

Shadow monsters that were bigger and scarier than the previous shadow monsters, which were already pretty scary? It might-as-well happen. s**t always happening around the holidays? "Makes some of the letters from my sister make more sense, I guess. 'Merry Christmas. The mall got blown up again'."

Hopefully she could get her attack off without nearly drowning or suffocating herself this time. It had taken a day and a half of visine and benadryl to be back to normal after her first go with the forces of evil. Whatever was in her attack was not friendly to her eyeballs or sinuses.

"Sounds like I'll have to make sure my job ropes me back around town during the holidays to help out."

Ancha knew she wasn't going to get any better if she avoided the issue. There had to be a key to fixing whatever was going on with her abilities. She could feel the magic there, on the tip of her proverbial tongue, when using it. It had the potential to go right, so how did she make sure it went right each time? She glanced to Hydor. She didn't suppose he knew, or he would have surely grumbled it impatiently at her by now.

b*****d.

Either way, she could worry about it after they dealt with whatever was happening here.

-----

Super Sailor Phaethon of Happiness

Seeing Nembus wrap her arms around herself made Phaethon want to reach out again, but he abstained. Just in case it was making her uncomfortable. She hadn't really shown herself to be a touchy-feely person the whole time he'd known her. It wasn't her fault that his family tended to be.

Though, luckily, they'd been understanding when he'd asked them to give her space. She'd had a rough time with her family, he'd told them. They hadn't asked any further questions. His great-grandmothers had just tutted softly and gone to get the spare linens out of the closet. His grandfather had just shaken his head with disapproval. Not at Dahlia of course, but at the theoretical family.

And, most importantly for Loren's and Dahlia's ruse, none of them were rude enough to ask her about them. Especially when he'd told them that the subject was painful for her.

In his defense, that had not been necessarily part of the ruse.

But now he stood next to Nembus, wanting to offer her a hug or something, but instead settling for taking a step closer. She could reach out to him, if she wanted to. Thankfully, she started to unravel herself, and he didn't have to worry any more on it for the moment. He listened to her speak, attempting to nod in response at the right intervals.

He wanted to make sure she knew he was listening.

"Well, it's his world. If he's confident, then hopefully that's a good sign." Was he convinced? Not necessarily. Not anymore than he figured Nembus probably was. Then again, her nerves usually had her struggling to be convinced of much of anything.

"Fingers crossed, anyway, I guess."