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Sailor Vulcan passed up the seats that their host had oh-so thoughtfully arranged, and stood on the edge of the crowd-- as far away from Alkaid as it was possible for her to get, without falling out of earshot. She listened quietly to the discussion, lips pursed, arms crossed protectively in front of her chest.

Once upon a time, as a new and eager sailor scout enthralled by the majesty that was Ares, she had sat in on meetings not unlike this one. Ares had talked of war then too, and of enemies, and of necessity. In the grand scheme of Ares' design, Vulcan had been little more than a disposable soldier. She'd followed orders. Aided in the kidnapping of Negaverse Agents. Guarded closed doors while the captives of the Blood Moon Court screamed in the darkness on the other side.

She stiffened at the word 'hostage' when WP started unravelling his plan, and glanced sharply in his direction, but did not say a word.

Vulcan had learned many things in the time that she'd spent as a member of the Blood Moon Court. The most important-- was to never follow blindly. She cared little for the threat the DMC posed to the Negaverse and, looking around at all of the Chaos agents that had gathered, wondered if it wasn't better simply to leave and let them kill each other.

And she would have done, if it were not for the likes of Ganymede and Europa and the other members of the Light gathered there. Vulcan had her own reasons for wanting a piece of this fight, and she could never forgive herself for sitting back and doing nothing while her comrades took up arms against the enemy.

She was alarmed by the news of Ares' absence, golden eyes flickering to Zirconia's face, and then confused by the pang of grief in her heart. Super Van had defeated her first youma with Fallon. After Hairy Pete's murder, it was Ares who'd rescued her from Nealite and Scheelite. She'd appeared out of a cloud of smoke, like some kind of badass guardian angel. Vulcan didn't want her dead.

She wanted her back. Good again.

But that was a secret. Kam didn't even know.

Vulcan's hands clenched into fists. She was thinking, turning WP's plan around in her head, not sure whether she understood it or not.

"Don't we... lose the element of surprise if we take a hostage?" When Vulcan spoke she sounded more confident than she felt. She addressed the whole of the group. "The DMC Senshi will come anticipating battle. That is no ambush. It is an invitation for war."

She gazed with disdain upon the soldiers wearing masks, and knew them to be cowards. Unworthy of her trust. Bischofite she respected for removing his.

WP only glanced at Bischonite. “I’d rather people volunteer for themselves.” He told him as the General seemed to volunteer the knight.

He looked back to Alkaid, who was forever someone he was grateful for having. He was still reeling from the shock of her pointing him out and stating openly she would lay her life down for him. It was beyond just an honor. “Hypnotizing? If you feel that it could be used against the DMCers we are using as a lure to run and call the others, I think that would be an asset.”

“As for mixing, I find that it might be more surprising now if we only have Negaverse officers go out. That would mean that they wouldn’t expect more in the ways of the Order side and only anticipate weapons, not magic.”

He looked over at Sailor Lellouch, a slow sort of shock rolling into his eyes. “You – know a DMCer enough to call them?” That was almost too good to be true. “If they are close, and you are willing to let them die, then I am all for this opportunity. I only ask how close they are and if they would come easily?”

And to make matters better, Penthesilea knew this DMCer that Lellouch was talking about and seemed to be attached at the hip to a partner. It was perfect. Almost too much so. “If they are inseparable, then they would not want the other harmed. If we can take one, they would be more inclined to get backup over overwhelming odds.”

He then turned to Vulcan. “It depends. If we take one of the DMC hostage and have the other attack and hopefully chase the other off, then the DMC runner will just assume that we are attacking for kicks and call for help to get their partner back. They would only see our small group as the other signatures will be hidden by cats. The DMC has never been attacked before and wouldn’t assume a collection of all fractions would fall down from above and surround them. However, I also anticipate that they are paranoid, and if Remaque is as sly as everyone says, he might be suspicious. However, by the time more of the DMC run in, they will have to arrive. The best thing is if we can keep them in one place and fight them there. The surprise only works so far.”

“However, if Lelouch knows of someone, we can use Lelouch as our hostage. A panicked phone call to a DMC saying they are being tracked and are unable to transform back to a civilian might be enough to send the partners running. Given my signature, they would be hopefully alarmed a Chaos officer attacking them. They won’t engage unless they are stupid if there is more than one on my team as they would be outnumbered, and if they had any sense, one of them would call for more help to save their friend while the other one kept an eye on us.”
He looked to Lelouch. “Would this person you are calling, that you know, come to save you? How do you know them?” He was curious, especially knowing someone here knew a DMCer intimately enough to be able to call them whenever they felt and yet was alright with letting them be killed. Needless to say, it was strange and WP was paranoid.

He considered his options for those that volunteered.

There were a whole lot more 'ifs' and 'hopefully-s' in WP's explanation than Vulcan liked. She struggled still with the exact mechanics of the design, but suspected that was because WP was obviously smarter than she was. No one had ever turned to Vulcan for her intelligence.

But there was a stink about this plot that unsettled her. Maybe it was because WP wore a mask. Maybe it was because being stupid made Vulcan so much more aware of smarter people. She did not trust them.

So she was thinking. Examining the group of warriors that WP had collected for himself. It made her heart glad to see so many White Moon Soldiers agreeing to work together-- even though Vulcan was not sure, exactly, what they were working towards. And there were too many Chaos agents amongst them.

WP had explained himself. Perhaps a little too well. He was like a snake in the grass. Too sneaky for his own good.

"If," Vulcan said, forehead wrinkling as she forced her thoughts into words, "we go with you, and something goes wrong..."

"...we will be surrounded by agents of Chaos," Vulcan gestured from herself to her White Moon comrades, golden eyes lingering on Chibi Sailor Makemake, whom she felt especially protective of for being so goddamned small. "We will be outnumbered."

"You've already said that you want the Dark Moon taken out," she glanced at the freakshow in the V for Vendetta mask, recalled that he'd admitted to wanting to dispose of each and every one of them. Vulcan's lips curled into a sneer, aimed at WP again. "But you'll forgive me for mistrusting the word of a man without the brass to show me his face."

Every single Negaverse Agent in their company was committing treason by teaming up with the White Moon in this way. Against Chaos. And Vulcan was supposed to sit back and just accept that these clever bastards wouldn't turn their backs on her, the first chance they got? Because they promised they wouldn't?

Not ******** likely.

There was no guarantee that THIS wasn't the actual trap. WP had already set the stage. If he was lying, all he had to do was whip out a mirror, and let Princess Leto and her posse gorge themselves on the unwitting senshi that he'd collected there.

"I want insurance," Vulcan said, head held high, hands still curled into fists. She was strong in her convictions, fiery curls wild around a face lit up with pride. "Give me a Negaverse agent. To hold for the course of this battle. If you do not double cross us, they will be returned to you unharmed."

Hopefully Ghen wouldn't mind babysitting duty.

Vulcan was expecting a no.

What she got was a tirade.

She narrowed her eyes at WP, bristling like a cat when he accused her of fear. It took more than a pissed of brat, who admitted to holding no authority over anyone in the group that had gathered there, to make the Senshi of Volconoes tremble. WP did send a spark of fury surging through Vulcan's veins. Her heart thumped, anticipating battle. It pleaded with her for the right to prove to all of them that she was no coward.

"You talk too ******** much," Vulcan sneered, voice full of a wrath that she had never learned to hide. Vanessa did not have the capacity for speeches as grand and elaborate as WP's, but whatever she lacked in finesse she made up for in volume. He could get as loud as he liked.

She'd match him shout for shout.

She broadened her stance, shoulders back, and looked WP square in the eye. She did her best to ignore his description of what the BMC had done, gritting her teeth against the memories that his words conjured.

"Despite this tentative alliance, I have not forgotten that we are enemies," Vulcan took a deep breath in order to try and calm herself. It sort of worked, though her heart still throbbed with the promise of war. "I have no reason to trust you. Several of your soldiers have made that clear already."

She looked to her fellow senshi, and then fixed her gaze back on WP.

"I promise that whatever agent you give to me will not be harmed as long as you stay true to your word. And if you can not give me one, maybe somebody else will?"

"So you want assurance," Bischofite began quietly as he stood. Unclasping his cloak, he allowed the swaths of black material to pool onto the ground, exposing feather and bone alike - a uniform that a select few present recognized instantly. "Hostages... Zey are an art, yes? Ze art of balancing life in one hand to wager wis' ze ozzer. It's fascinating. It's fun. And most of all, it's downright devious." The feathered general smiled in his intonation, exposing a mirthless row of teeth and malice.

Crossing the room proved no small feat with the plethora of chairs every bit as odds with each other as the people occupying them. However, in freeing himself from the throng of building tensions, he managed to wade his way toward the stout senshi featuring a blaze of red hair and equal fervor. "What is your name, child?" His scrutinizing gaze fell on an outfit that offered little indications toward her exact sphere. Perhaps it hinted toward a general theme, but no specifics often exposed themselves in senshi fuku. No matter. Leaning over, Bischofite initiated eye contact at even ground.

"I am Bischofite, and I like stakes in my battles.

"If you are looking for a hostage, I will gif' you one - a pink-haired lieutenant by ze name of Astrophyllite. My superior directly appointed her to me; our fates are irrevocably intertwined. What falls to her also falls to me - if WP fails to keep his promise and subjects ze lot of you to corruption to fill her revolting ranks, zen Astrophyllite will die and I will meet a similar fate. It is ze will of ze Dark Kingdom you see - all for ze sake of utter, indomitable obedience." Straightening up, his earrings chimed vaguely with his swifter movements. The senshi offered some value in the means by which she evaluated their circumstances - essentially they fostered similar minds to WP's strategies. It spoke of failure, though each arrived at that conclusion along differing lines of reason.

"I am no stranger to ze outcome here. Zere are limitless opportunities for backstabbing, infighting, failure, misdirection and deas'. Zat is why I am here. Were zis strategy utterly sound in its structure, I would haf' walked out of zis meeting for its assuredness. However, since WP stoops to half-measures, razzer zan bringing ze building down on ze arriving Dark Mirrors, I will attend his rickety facsimile of a battle - as it will surely devolve to utter chaos. As a result, you cannot stake claim on my life; were I absent, I am certain zat even a few on your side would miss me." Over his shoulder, his gaze fell to Thraen and then toward Ganymede and Sessrumnir - all acquaintances from earlier days.

Attention rerouted to the flame-haired senshi, he continued. "Meet me atop ze roof after ze end of zis meeting. You will haf' your hostage at zat time."

"If you're referring to the one you spoke of the last time we met... Then it's one in the same... I thought you might get a kick out of this idea..." Seems she was right too. Her gaze turned to Buddingtonite as he spoke, and she wondered for a moment if he was actually serious about the words he spoke."The person in question means little to me at this point. So I have no problem handing him over to you." It was as simple as that.

"Oh, he's big into keeping the partner safe, so if you want to mess with him I'd suggest separating and then making him watch as you beat the other. I do strongly recommend you try to avoid his magic though.. I've heard it's quite irritating even if it's use is rather limited." Lellouch flicked her gaze to Penthesilea once again and she couldn't stop the twitch of her lip. "As to what you do to either of them.. I don't particularly care either way."

The blonde listened as Vulcan and WP exchanged their own talks before returning her attention to the General. "Of course they'd come. Why wouldn't they? We're as close as they come. Siblings, WP. And what big brother wouldn't come to the rescue of their little sister when she's in danger?" Lellouch sighed when asked on how she knew. "I found out through a rather... unfortunate connection... Turns out b***h work is good for something after all... Who knew."

Zircon could feel the tension slowly mounting, the feeble alliance formed in the midst of capri sun and cookies crumbling around this hot-headed senshi who had suddenly decided to speak grievances of her own. Until now, the lieutenant had kept herself quiet, but the Ascendent General made a valid point, as much as her presence made Zircon's skin crawl. While she'd agreed to help fight the Dark Mirror, she knew she was a poor fit for the initial ambush, and given her low power level she wasn't going to be able to pack much of a punch in combat. Given the choices, it seemed like there was really only one use for her presence.

"I'll be collateral," she finally spoke up, lifting one arm to identify herself as having spoken from under the mask. She hadn't expected for it to come to this, but then again, she wasn't sure what she had expected it to come to. She stood from her formerly seated position, crossing the room to face the outspoken senshi and the General prepared to offer her tribute. Turning to Bischofite, she shook her head slowly. "You don't need to put your lieutenant on the line for a cause they may not stand for. I won't have much sway on the battlefield, and I am not afraid of our fellows turning coat." Perhaps that wasn't entirely true, given she didn't quite know the identities of her 'fellows' in this situation. There were certainly a number of officers with whom she would and had trusted her life, but if they were here they kept themselves hidden. She would be leaving her fate to those like Bischofite, who certainly didn't see a problem in sacrificing someone of such low rank like herself...but then again, what other use did she have?

Her gaze darkened as she made eye contact with the Senshi of Volcanos, and with one small gesture she held out a hand, to shake on the deal. "I just hope having you with us is worth it."

"Quiet," He spat as a gloved hand snaked about the masked lieutenant's throat. Grip tightening with liberal strength, his typically neutral countenance broke into a derisive snarl. "Do not undermine my decisions, whatever your intents may be. I alone am in charge of ze fate of my subordinate - not you, not zat irritatingly snappy captain to my left, not zis senshi herself."

With a taut jerk, Bischofite hauled his captive lieutenant toward the nearest window, entirely absent any consideration. Finally he pressed her masked face to the glass, with enough force to threaten its potential fracture. "Haf' you ever wondered what it might be like to pick glass shards out of your face lieutenant? Haf' you ever wondered what it might be like when gasoline seeps into zose wounds? Haf' you ever wondered what it might be like for flame to course across every crevice of your visage until it warped ze remains of your skin? Zen you would possess a veritable mask, lieutenant - zen even ze youma would recognize you as zeir own."

Finally he parted fingers from throat and started back toward the senshi and captain who stood at odds. "I am not an enemy you want to make, child. Saf'e your paltry, wertlos life for cannon fodder in zis despicable setup."

Finally his attention turned to Labyrinthite, who he met with thinly-veiled irritation. "<******** off," came his sole reply, stated with palpable rage. "Everysing weaves togezzer in time, Captain. If you cannot see zis as an opportunity, zen zat is your own shortcoming. However, given our current standings, outward violence toward zis senshi strains our already tenuous... diplomacy if one could call it zat. Ze masks, ze imbalance of presences... it speaks to betrayal, does it not? Normally I would adopt ze role of catalyst very much as you are, but I would like to see zis curious, halfassed plot come to fruition - if only for ze rampant failure zat would surely stem from such convoluted instruction.

"Now, kindly sit ze ******** down so I can finish discussing ze intricacies of a hostage exchange."