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Deep Space Sailor Lovas of Fragility
HP: 14 - 1 from enemies [26 halved from Regal’s shield (13) halved from Morgan’s second shield (7) - 6 from Ekstrom’s shield (1)] + 6 from Morgan’s first shield, which I had never incorporated lol = 19/50
Location: D8
Action: Attacking his skeletons with physical attack
Interaction Roll: N/A
Damage/Healing/Buff Done: 3/5 skelly from last round 3/3 new skelly -> 0/0 + 0/0 No more skellies for him!

Something grabbed him. Lovas might have initially thought it was Regal, since the squire had spent half their time here pulling on him, trying to get him to not go where Lovas wanted to go, but the something was significantly more yanky than Regal was, and against the slippery oath, Lovas found his feet ripped out from under him.

He hit stone hard with a soft grunt, and to keep from being pummeled by bones while he was done, he snatched at the nearest one he could find, coming up with a handful of he-didn’t-know-what-kind-of-appendage, and beat back the closest enemy.

Nails scraped the oath as he tried to free himself from the tangled tendril, but it wasn’t working out as well as he’d hoped.

In a perfect world, he would not wind up too much closer to the water. He was sure it was perfectly fine and not deadly at all, with nothing treacherous in it to speak of, but regardless of all that, his world didn’t have any such large expanses of water- almost no water at all. And Lovas felt reasonably positive that his interaction with it would… not… be favorable. For him. In that he did not know how to interact with it, and that had to be bad when there was so much of it.

He wouldn’t normally have reached for anyone in this scenario, expecting he would have no choice but to get out of it on his own, but- ah, well. There were lots of bodies nearby to reach for this time.

Squire Regal of Chronos
HP: 39 - 2 from enemies [30 halved from Regal’s shield (15) halved from Morgan’s second shield ( cool - 6 from Ekstrom’s shield (2)] + 6 from Morgan’s first shield, which I had never incorporated lol = 43/75
Location: D8
Action: Shielding Arcalís and Lovas with his magic for half damage [10 seconds of pool used]
Interaction Roll: N/A
Damage/Healing/Buff Done: all his skeletons still alive

Well, at least he was one of several prioritizing protecting themselves and their allies, because otherwise… Well, those tendrils emerging from the water would’ve wrecked just about everything in their path, and Regal still had a growing handful of smaller enemies on his tracks. But at least his efforts- and Morgan’s, and a blond Mercury Knight (Ekstrom) that he didn’t know the name of, nearly everything coming at them was reduced to almost nothing.

It wouldn’t be like that forever. The group wasn’t doing much to the great creature a few yards away… And there simply wasn’t anything Regal could do to change that- and there probably wouldn’t be at any point. This was all he could do, just his disastrously limited shield.

Lovas was ripped from his side by a tentacle slithering along the path, and Regal dove for him grabbing his arm to try and keep him nearby while desperately trying to keep his magic going-

His own state wasn’t quite as bad as Lovas’, and a pretty shimmery little thing off to the side seemed to be in a particularly bad state as well… These aliens- They sure thought they knew what they were getting into dealing with Chaos on other worlds, but judging purely based on Lovas’ misplaced confidence, they weren’t much better off than anyone else… Worse. Lovas was worse, even.

He turned the shield from his magic from himself toward the slim, bunny-looking boy (Arcalis) nearby, hoping that would be worth something in keeping as many people going as possible.

Character Name and journal link Page Yetzirah of Cosmos
HP: KOed / 50
Location: C9
Action: DreadOut
Interaction Roll: panic
Damage/Healing/Buff Done: scream

There was strength in numbers, as they said. He could see magics flaring, shielding, and yeah... in that moment? He felt a bitter envy. Rage, even. It ate at him, clawed at him, and Yetzirah found himself sinking to his knees in the icy water and clawing skeletons. All he could do was wrap his arms over his head to protect it, and squeeze his eyes shut. The fog was dense around him now, choking out all else as he lost sight of... everything. Everyone.

He shouldn't have come out here. He shouldn't have done this. He was useless. Why did he bother? The panic boiled in his chest and made him choke out small sobs, tears burning his frozen skin.

All around him, figures moved through the fog. Empty eyes, screaming, gaping maws. He couldn't even properly see them, and even when he once dared to peek, he rapidly squeezed his eyes shut once more, refusing to open them up again. No more. He didn't want to see that any more. They looked broken, necks and limbs at odd angles were there weren't joints, soundless screams that still put him into a fit of shivering. No more. Just... please... could he just go home?

[i love writing a post and forgetting to roll.]

Soyala, Guardian Cat (in fabulous human form!)
HP: 11/75
Location: D9
Action: Attacking the boss!
Interaction Roll: N/A
Damage/Healing/Buff Done: 6

Deep Space Super Sailor Madriu
HP: 28/75
Location: D8
Action: Attacking the boss!
Interaction Roll: N/A
Damage/Healing/Buff Done: (10 + 14) x2 (unstable magic!) = 28
Content Warning: this post contains references to domestic abuse

As much as Arcalis was clinging to him, Madriu was steadying himself with Arcalis. The fog was grasping and desperate, reaching for them and pulling them into it, towards the shore--and he swore he was seeing things in it.

There was more than one of them. Arcalians, ordinary and powerful alike, who had mocked him, spit on him, the shape of a Senator who had backhanded him as a child for daring to question why he couldn't go home and see his family--people he knew were long dead, and yet they moved there, just out of sight, shapes in the fog.

"I am, migadye. As long as it's in my power, I always will be." And he intended to ensure it was always in his power.

And as Arcalis dragged them into the protective barriers cast by the Senshi (Morgan) and the Knight (Ekstrom), he saw one particular shape that staggered him. Tall, with a warrior's build and flopping Arcalian ears, moving towards him with arms wide open. A familiar gesture. One he'd seen a thousand times. Sometimes followed by affection. Sometimes followed by violence. Sometimes some twisted combination of the two.

'A violent dog needs a a heavy hand. I'm only doing this because I love you, and if I don't discipline you, no one will.'

Eithian's voice came back to him. It hadn't always been the same words, but it had been the same idea. That Lex was a dog that needed to be properly trained. Properly broken. And only Eithian, who Lex would have once sworn loved him and whom he loved in return, cared enough to train him properly.

Not always the excuse, no. But often enough. And now the fog made his shape, to put Madriu on the back foot. To remind him of what he feared.

Eithian was dead. He knew Eithian weas dead. His blood had been on Madriu's--Lex's--hands, his face, his hair, had marked him in a way that he'd struggled to wash off for years after it was physically gone.

"Lay back in your grave," he hissed into the fog.

He was reluctant to part from Arcalis, when both of them were absolutely seeing monsters in the fog, but his world had given him new, powerful magic when he'd gone back to it. Magic he intended to turn on the monster before him.

"Hopeless Struggle," he declared, reaching for the ritual of word and gesture to make the new magic flow--and flow it did, pouring from him in a dark-iridescent rush of hopelessnes directed at the great beast.

Carterhaugh, Squire of Earth
HP: 11/75
Location: D9
Action: Attacking the boss!
Interaction Roll: N/A
Damage/Healing/Buff Done: 4

The fog seemed to be closing in. Now, it wasn't only skeletons grasping at Carterhaugh, nails scratching and bony appendages impacting as if they were desperate to stop him, but the fog itself, thick and cloying and--

And there was something wrapping around his wrist, pulling him forward. Fear shot throguh him; there were things moving in the fog, shapes, slowly turning into--

Into the shape of a petite woman with a massive scythe.

The foggy silhouette of the Negaverse Queen, as he'd seen her when they were all fighting that awful serpent monster in February. And somewhere, deep down, Carterhaugh felt half-sure that she was coming for him, that he'd escaped his fate of being corrupted for only so long, that soon enough there would be a hand in his chest and it would all be over, he would be turned into whatever the Negaverse wanted of him.

(Well, he thought to himself. If he was doomed, he might as well fight for just a little longer. Do what he could before he was totally lost.)

He reached for one of the skeletons attacking him, yanked off a piece--a hand, maybe, he wasn't sure--and threw it at the largest shape in the fog. The great leviathan that loomed over all of them.

It wasn't much. But it was a fight.

Deep Space Eternal Sailor Dagon
HP: 35/100
Location: D8 -> ???
Action: Attacking the boss with third-stage magic (indirect damage); dragged into the water
Damage/Healing/Buff Done: 10 + 9 = 19

They were all fighting so hard. Dagon had to move forward, had to get to the heart and destroy it. So she struggled against the fog, dragging herself back onto the stepping stone, the rock smoothed by centuries beneath the waves providing little purchase, but it was enough.

The skeletons grasped and clawed at her, a sharp set of fingers tearing into her leg, hands trying to grab her and drag her back down.

Morgan and Ekstrom were working so hard to protect them all, but there were people starting to fall. The youngest ones, the Pages and the new Senshi, who had so bravely shown up to fight for her, falling to Chaos's power. She could not hesitate any longer. There were risks, running under the great leviathan skeleton, but she had to.

"Dread Destruction," she gasped, calling on her most powerful magic.

She ran forward. The end of the leviathan's rib sliced her arm open. But pain was pain. She knew it. Had endured far worse than that.

She leapt, to get to the next stepping stone.

A fog tendril lashed out.

This time, there was nothing for her to grab.

She was dragged, down, beneath the waves.

It was quiet, below the surface. The sounds of combat, the leviathan's great bellow--it all felt very far away. A trail of red drifted up as she sank further down, and distantly, she felt the salt water sting her wounds.

She had a little time, perhaps. But she felt....distant. Hazy. As if the fog above had penetrated her mind when it dragged her below.

On the surface, though, something was happening.

The water in the basin that had opened the way began to glow. Once, a thousand years ago, the planet Dagon had saved its protector from what sohuld by all accounts have been fatal wounds. Now, it tried again, for far more than a single person.

A pillar of light shot into the air, like a lighthouse breaking through a storm.

The leviathan bellowed, furiously, and smacked its fin bones into the water, seding it cascading towards the shore again, but this time, it washed over them harmlessly.

Around each defender swirled a shield of shimmering fog, bringing with it the scent of fresh sea air, untainted by the rot and mold with which Chaos had infected the world.

And it brought with it anticipation. Perhaps, even, hope.