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It wasn't their fault, really.

The Gellner's couldn't have known how it would irritate the temperamental General when they followed the requests of grieving parents. Requests to mask the name carved into their children's bodies before burial. They couldn't have known that in covering up the unsightly gashes that they would have brought the wrath of the Negaverse down upon their head. After all, she had put hours of work into collecting those bodies and carving Ares' name carefully across their torsos. She should have known, but it nevertheless enraged the General when she saw the thick smears of makeup that covered the last of the letters, carved deeply into their cheeks, the rest of the name obscured by clothing.

Soon, they would know not even the solace of burying their dead. They would pile up in the streets, and Tanzanite intended to make damn sure that not an undertaker in their right mind would consider putting them to rest.

The door had not been locked, the funeral home still lit up as the busy family burnt the midnight oil. They had to have been busy with the number of bodies the war between the senshi and Negaverse had been leaving behind, and so it did not surprised Tanzanite when she rested her black fingertips upon the knob and needed only a gentle turn to push the door ajar. It swung open with a light squeak of hinges in need of oiling.

“We're closed, miss,” a man said in a no-nonsense tone, not even looking up from his paperwork. He didn't pause as he jammed his fingers into the buttons of an outdated calculator, the other making a shooing motion in her direction. He didn't even bother to make sure that she had turned to go, at least not until his wife dropped a vase full of lillies to the floor. The crash tore his attention from the seemingly endless stream of numbers, to find his wife with a wicked black hand tangled in her hair, pulled up until she could barely stand on her tip-toes.

“Mr. Gellner,” Tanzanite said in that strange, two-tone voice, “I am very tired of you burying all of my hard work.”

Tanzanite hated that word.

Tanzanite really hated that word.

The single syllable drew her dark brows down over cold grey eyes, and Tanzanite only tightened her grip. She had felt the rush of power the second the girl had powered up, and by the time Sailor Requiem had kicked open the door, Tanzanite was staring in her direction. She had more than enough experience fighting senshi to be able to size her up by power signature alone, and had dismissed her as a non-threat almost immediately.

“Tsk,” she clicked her tongue in annoyance, “The Negaverse does not take orders from senshi, dear girl. If you are thinking to talk me down, I suggest you formulate a new plan.”

The boldness of the lunar invaders never failed to amaze Tanzanite. Time and time again she had encountered them, many time those of a lower level, and so very often they tried to stand their ground. It was pride that made them do so, and it was pride that so often got them killed. Tanzanite moved with impressive speed, throwing the unfortunate Mrs. Gellner at Sailor Requiem hard enough to knock the woman out should she collide with the wall.

Tanzanite sneered as the senshi spun out of the way, proving once again that they were no better than the Negaverse. They would allow a human to suffer to save their own skin. At least the Negaverse used those human lives for the energy they provided, all with the ultimate goal of driving the senshi from their planet.

Then, Sailor Requiem made a terrible mistake.

'Of the Blood Moon Court.'

Tanzanite moved with terrible speed, her black hand snatching for Requiem's wrist. If she was able to take hold, she would pull the senshi forward, flinging her into the opposite wall.

“And I am Tanzanite. General Tanzanite, Blood Moon senshi. And we have so much to talk about.”

Tanzanite pulled a chair from the corner of the room, turning it to sit backward upon it. It was a surprisingly casual stance, indicative of how little threat she perceived the senshi to be. Her human arm draped across the top of the chair, her chin coming to rest upon it. The blackened hand extended, and a single claw stretched and grew, a sharp spine that extended from her fingertip until the sharp point was pressed against the coroner's throat. Mr. Gellner swallowed hard, still cradling his wife's unconscious body. It took effort without the energy of a starseed to fuel the attack, but it was energy she was willing to spare.

“The Blood Moon Court,” she replied flatly, the claw extending until the man had no choice but to press himself back against the wall, a single drop of blood beading at the base of his throat, “I want to know their names. Your leader. Your plans. Your headquarters.”

Tanzanite turned her gaze on Sailor Requiem, malice in her eyes, “I want to know everything you know about the Blood Moon Court, senshi, or I will poke holes in this man's body until he looks like swiss cheese. I hope we have an understanding.”

“Which is exactly why I should threaten him, don't you think?” Tanzanite smiled. Her hand twitched, and the claw scratched a deep wound from the man's throat to his shoulder, hovering above the joint for a brief moment. It took only a thought for the claw to extend slowly, burrowing through flesh and muscle until it embedded in the wall on the other side of his shoulder join.

The screams were almost deafening, but faded to low, shuddering whines after a few moments.

“Let's start with Sailor Ares. Her human name, if you don't mind.”

The claw was already retracting, scraping along skin as it picked a new, unbroken patch of skin on the other shoulder.

“I'm a merciful woman, Sailor Requiem, “ Tanzanite lied, “All I want to know is who they are and where I can find them. Once I have that information, you and this lovely couple are free to go.”

Another lie.

Another scream, as another claw pierced the unwounded shoulder and pinned the man once again to the wall.

“A system,” Tanzanite said sarcastically, “How advanced.”

A roll of her eyes gave away her true feelings. The Negaverse, though it had once been little more than a handful of rebellious teenagers led by a relic of a General-King, was now a well-oiled machine. The senshi, without a leader to unite them, had always lacked that organization. Knowing that the Blood Moon Court was organized, however ridiculous it seemed, was enough to consider them more of a threat.

Sailor Ares was not wasting her time.

“I'm not certain that I believe you,” she murmured, “Now let's see. I know... Sailor Nemesis.”

She twisted the claw, skin and muscle twisting around it, and the man screamed again.

“Sailor Lyra.

Another twist. Another scream.

“Sailor Ares.”

Tanzanite was impressed by just how well the man was able to keep himself from breaking down into a sob.

“And now you... Sailor Requiem. Now tell me, who else?”

It was not nearly all, but it was enough.

For now.

Slowly, the claws withdrew from Mr. Gellner's body, screams accompanying them. They shrank back until they looked no more menacing than the strange arm usually did, dripping blood and tapping a cadence on the back of the chair.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat, as she considered the names quietly.

Albali. Leto. Gunn.

The names were filed away in her memory. She would track them down, one by one, and she would send them back to Ares broken and beaten. Tanzanite had no interest in killing senshi anymore. As Ares had pointed out, what was the use? They would only be reborn in time, and Tanzanite did not intend to be here in a thousand years to put down their infestation a second time.

“All? I have so much more to talk to you about, but we will save that for another night.” She had plenty to work off of for the moment, and she didn't need to hang around for when some nosy neighbor called the police. Tanzanite could recall the feeling of having metal slugs pulled from her body. Youma arm or no youma arm, it was downright unpleasant. <********> the police.

Shoving the chair off to one side, Tanzanite slowly stood.

“Sailor Ares and I have unfinished business. As much as I would love to rip out your throat and leave it on her doorstep, I don't know where that is.” Which was, actually, the only thing keeping Tanzanite from treating Sailor Ares' home like a morgue and dumping bodies on her front porch ever night, “So you're going to arrange a little meeting, Sailor Requiem.”