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Things were certainly getting heated, but not once did Buddingtonite think to insert his opinion into the matter between White Phoenix and Vulcan. Both held legitimate issues and like hell he'd risk losing his fingers to either one by stepping into their argument. It wasn't until Phoenix threw his mask towards her and revealed herself that Buddingtonite felt the urge to give a very loud and audible 'gaaaaaaaaaaaaasp' though somehow he managed to keep it to himself. Once again, drawing attention to himself at this time would NOT have been a good idea, and he leaned closer to Turquoise to whisper softly, "As the world turns..."

The situation seemed to resolve itself without his interference, thankfully, and he cast the blonde lieutenant a pitiful look. To be dragged into such a situation... he was just happy it wasn't him. Not that it could have been him- after all, he would be joining Wolframite and Alkaid in the ambush. Impossible for even him to be in two places at once. Though he wouldn't have minded... Vulcan was saucy and rather pleasant on the eyes. Being in her custody would have been splendid.

His attention was forced back to the situation at hand thanks to Turquoise promise, and he flashed her a confident wink, before chuckling softly. "Now, now, I have no intention on dying. But it's good to know you'll pass the message along... I'll endeavor to make sure the burden is never upon you. And don't worry, I'll keep you safe, once we rendezvous I'll be sticking to your side like sticky rice."

Something had caught Turquoise eye, but there was little time for the general to pry, as Wolframite requested information. After Turquoise gave her report, he gave his, tipping his hat to the one-eyed general and making sure to be extra respectful. Anyone that could turn their life tragedy into a burning crusade was more than worthy of his respect and adoration. "General Buddingtonite, Infiltration. I'm more for flowery talk and recruitment but I can manage my own. I can wield my boomerang as a projectile or use it as a bludgeon weapon if they get close, and I also have a youma that I can summon. He's an adorable little crab, named Gra. He, and myself, are yours to command, General."

Galvatronite could barely keep up with what was happening, but he had a feeling that staying silent was the wise decision here. Even when WP removed his mask, he held his tongue, looking on in silence and admiration for the general that stood before him. Knowing of his true identity only strengthened his own resolve, and had he not volunteered to partake in the ambush, he would have gladly volunteered for Vulcan's insurance. But the dice was cast, and the opportunity was gone... though its effects still resonated in the room.

"Lieutenant Galvatronite," he said, introducing himself when it felt appropriate to talk. "I have a yo-yo for my weapon, which I can also use as rope for our hostage if need be."

Tyrus watched the Order Guardian Cat easily shift from her feline to human form with a tinge of jealousy. When she shifted back into her cat form, he slipped away from Alkaid and hopped up onto the table. Scooping another cookie into his mouth, he padded over to Cora and sat down next to her. Grinning at her with cookie crumbs splayed upon his maw and his ridiculously long scarf tangled around his paws, he finally resumed his job of dampening power signatures with her.

He had no reason to contribute his name or what he would be doing- it was quite obvious that the Guardian Cat would be put to work in the ambush to conceal the hidden soldiers waiting to spring to life when the DMC arrived.

Falias had looked up when the hand landed on his shoulder and he had given a short nod in acknowledgement of the Jupiter Knight's (Sessrumnir) words.

It seemed during their short interchange that more heated words had broken out, centred around a golden-eyed senshi's (Vulcan) request for a hostage from the Nega-side and Falias had watched as rank was pulled and a masked person with a Lieutenant aura had ended up shoved hard against a window by the same general the Jupiter Knight had identified as a civilian-killer.

It had ended up with WP unmasking himself, although the act hadn't had much effect on Falias - the only person in the warehouse who was at least vaguely familiar was a red-haired General (Buddingtonite) who was sticking close to a turquoise-haired Lieutenant (Turquoise) - and he couldn't quite place where he'd seen the other from.

Despite his very real doubt that anything would actually get decided due the meeting so far seeming to be more heated conversation than actual strategy, things seemed to have managed to get back on track after a blond super senshi with vines and flowers twining in his hair (Thraen) had pointed out that despite the tenuous nature of the alliance, that they didn't need to be paralysed by it. There had even been a plan of action proposed.

WP introducing himself as Wolframite seemed to have sparked a trend and in the silence that sprung up after the blonde eternal had given her name as Ganymede, Falias said "Falias, Page of Earth." After all given that others were sharing names and information he didn't think he could do any less. "I don't have any magic" and he wasn't about to demonstrate the uselessness of his weapon. "But as I said earlier, I'll go wherever you think I'm a best fit." He glanced towards the eternal senshi up by Wolframite who seemed to be the one who was going to be in charge of organising things here at the warehouse, that is at least if he'd put together what was said right.

If was lucky for Vulcan that'd Labyrinthite had been ordered to back down, otherwise he would have had no issue beating her face into the ground or cutting into pieces with the blade of his scythe. It would come, soon enough, he thought. A clash or battle between them was bound to erupt sooner rather than later, and he suspected that it wouldn't be too long after their alliance ended.

He never cared for the senshi who liked to meddle, and Vulcan liked to meddle.

He stopped paying attention to her, or even what Alkaid was saying to him when Zircon shrieked and pulled the last of her disguise from her form in horror. His teeth clacked loudly against each other as he choked word down. He shifted, whole body lurching forward toward the lieutenant. One of his lieutenants. (Officially or not, he most certainly deemed her one of his.) He was stopped by the reminder of the order of the ascendent general beside him. He glanced at her sideways, then was further distracted by Zirconia's feline form pressing up against his ankle.

He looked down instinctively, features crumpling with confusion beneath the mask at the lavender colored cat.

He lost the opportunity to react when WP threw his mask at Vulcan and gave them his identity. His attention was pulled away, back to the mysterious leader of their ragtag group. He knew of Wolframite, but did not know him personally despite their close quarters during spec-op events. While he did not know him, he knew that Wolframite had suffered terribly at the hands of the smoke senshi and her lackeys. He understood his fury, his determination and it was that, and that alone, that fully committed him to their mission.

And soon, it reached a point where he was the only one still properly disguised and he sighed as he stood up. First, he pulled the hood of his cloak down and the pink of his hair was bright against the stark black of his second hood. Then, he reached toward his face and peeled the mask from his face letting it clatter to the floor. He didn't look at Alkaid, or Vulcan, but instead turned his head to Zircon. "I wasn't planning on concealing my identity during the battle, my weapon would speak my name as loud as if I announced it myself," he said, turning his attention back to WP. "My name is Captain Labyrinthite. My weapon is a scythe, I specialize in hand-to-hand combat as well as longer ranged attacks. I am also adept in balance-oriented terrains and I believe my usefulness lies in the ambush."

With all he needed to say spoken, he stepped over Zirconia and closed the distance between him and Zirconia. He knelt down before her, reaching for the hand covering her face to pull it away. "You need to let me look at it Lieutenant," he said in hushed tones.

With the situation diffused, many moved on to offer their services in varying abilities - senshi magic offered in stronger strikes over time or a bed of flowers to lay their foes to sleep (which he had experienced personally on numerous occasion). Ganymede's magic met with particular remembrance - he nearly dropped the live wire as a result of that terrible spark of immolation. He sneered thinly. "Her strongest magic is potent - when she finds reason to use it." Let the rest observe its course when she commits to the cause in the coming battle. Bischofite found no benefit in spoiling such a surprise.

And Thraen... who divulged every ounce of information known to his own magic. Interestingly he omitted the presence of vines in his stronger magic, and Bischofite wondered if that entailed its discontinued use for this battle, or if he intended to hide his few remaining tricks. Though the general doubted the latter, he refrained from mentioning those vines regardless.

Even Labyrinthite made his own introduction - it reminded him of first days in the classroom when everyone was required to share their name, favorite movie, and names of their pets. This exercise amounted to similar value, though their abilities lent merit to different positions. Inwardly he wondered if the twiggy general Wolframite would balk at such an information overload, or if he possessed the mental faculties to weed through the useful tidbits and arrange teams based on such. For a moment, he considered offering his assistance in sorting out the individuals present.

But he decided he much preferred to watch Wolframite toil away at trying to form coherent attack plans.

"As I haf' mentioned before, I am Bischofite. My weapons are..." He raised a fist to materialize one circular blade, while the other hung loosely from a damaged grip. "Chakrams. Zey are useful for close and long-range strikes. For me, at least." After the visual demonstration he dematerialized the blades and offered reasoning behind suddenly drawing weapon at an already tenuous alliance. "Normally I would offer my assistance in ze sick of battle, but wis' a fractured wrist, I cannot wield my weapons to zeir full potential. But since I haf' a pair... If any lieutenant or senshi would like to fight using ze remaining chakram, I find little reason to object." Any blade turned on himself would be met with instant dismissal, but the offer left him open to setups - officers struck by his own blade, and later reported to their superiors.

"Since I cannot fight to my full potential, courtesy of one of our superiors, my usefulness falls to a propensity for traps. In a convoluted area like zis, I can already spot a number of solutions to a cluster of enemies. Additionally, I can work wis' presented magics to better our chances. As such, I doubt I will be of much use to your recon party."

Well, since everyone seemed to be squaring away what they’d help do and making their introductions, Sessrumnir figured that the meeting was finally getting somewhere. Not that he was going to introduce himself, and he definitely wasn’t going to tell them what his weapon did, but he figured they had a lot more to worry about than a single knight.

“Are you planning on taking prisoners or just killing them? Just asking… I could always bring the zip-ties and duct tape,” he offered half jokingly. He did have the items in question, but somehow he figured they would just rather kill everyone instead of questioning them for information.

Because who cared what they thought as long as they got rid of them, right??

It was all very barbaric in his opinion, and the more he listened, the more brainwashed a lot of these people sounded. The fact that these officers seemed to be going against their superiors in order to fight the DMC was interesting, but they still seemed blind to everything but themselves.

If all went well, there would be a few less of both the DMC and Negaverse to worry about.

"Shh," he instructed. "Just don't make the same mistake twice," he told her, offering a weak-half smile. His attention was directed upon Zircon's face, bright eyes flicking back and forth from each cut to her overall face, when Thraen introduced himself. He hardly paid attention, only turning his head back to watch the flowered senshi from the corner of his eye. He listened, distractedly, to the description of the senshi's magic but paid full attention when Bischofite spoke.

Looking at the general made him bristle with anger, because it reminded of what he had done.

Immediately his gaze traveled to the chakrams, and more importantly, the general's damaged wrist. He wondered what strength the man possessed to even use his fractured limb. Despite how infuriating he found Bischofite to be, he respected the man's strength like he respected General Obsidian for his. Internally he vowed to be a solid and as strong as them.

Despite his shared attention, Labyrinthite was perceptive and aware of his lieutenant's tension. Stiff and rigid with the senshi, meek and timid towards the general. Interesting. He looked back at her, trying to read her expression. His brow crinkled, knitting together in concentration. "I have...matters to attend to following this but," he paused to look Alkaid's way, "you should come by my house. We'll clean your wounds properly, then talk." He pulled himself away and stood up. "Okay?"

When she replied, he returned to his seat by the cracked senshi, so he could better focus on the words of his peers. "Death is what they deserve. Bit merciful really," he voiced. "But to keep prisoners in matters such as these seems unwise."