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It seemed fitting for Eternal Sailor Gunn's last night on Earth to be spent where it all began, really; the moment when she'd been told that some casualties were acceptable, as long as she saved lives. The means by which lives were supported meant nothing if those lives no longer existed. If those civilians no longer drew breath, then… then what would the point even be? What powers could they claim to have, what moral high ground would give them the edge over the Negaverse? Who cared if a ferry exploded, as long as the youma stalking the ships went, too?

Gunn had, once.

When had she lost that? Was it before Ares and her thirst for… blood? Justice? She couldn't say, and didn't want to. Didn't care, not anymore, because she had decided to go so far away that no one could ever find her. In the box at her feet stood enough rations for her to make it at least a week; two if she was stingy, and God did Gunn intend to be stingy. She didn't want to come back to this battleground. If she disappeared, no one would need to look for Kreszant. The knowledge of the name that Wolframite held would be meaningless, because Gunn wouldn't be there for revenge to even be necessary.

And, too, she'd be far away from the fallout of Ares's corruption. The abomination of a sailor soldier could never make her way to Gunn's comet; it was a sanctuary. Thank God she'd never thought to show it to Ares, to propose it for training Special Forces like she had once thought. "Well then," she said, addressing the water; she didn't care for watching energy signatures. Ares, if she was active now, was far away. She sensed no dark energy, just light, but the solitude of her place here, now, was more peaceful than that.

The redheaded senshi cleared her throat, and began again. "Well then," she addressed the water, "I guess this is goodbye." Her phone lay against her palm, warm, with a slow pulse against the beat in her thumb. They matched, and it seemed like the greatest irony that the wooden boards under her feet thrummed with the same energy. Earth's heartbeat, maybe?

She found it hard to care.

She exhaled, feeling the heartbeat of the Earth in the palm of her hand. Maybe it was Gunn's heartbeat, pretending. Could the Negaverse be right?... Her comet still stood empty, spinning endlessly through space. Maybe she'd find peace there, at last.

First, though, it seemed she would be interrupted. She turned to face the man with the brown hair, recognition flaring in her eyes. It had been a while since she'd seen Sailor Castor... almost a year ago to the day, in fact. "I know you," she said. "It's been a while." The redhead didn't reach out to take his hand; half-turned towards him, the phone in her hand grabbed at attention. It rested in her palm, open, her thumb on the button to call home. "You're a Prince now?... That's nice." Her voice turned dead, quiet: "Congratulations."

She couldn't muster up any rancor for the rank. She didn't think she'd be able to trust a royal, knowing that if they wanted they could switch sides and then ruin lives. Requiem, she was gone now. Gunn would be too, although... not the same way.

"I'm leaving," she told him. "I'm sick of this. All of this."

"A bit more than a year," she said, running her thumb over the top of her phone. "Not that long." Happy? No way, she was practically the opposite of happy. Her air could be best described as downright depressed, which... was an adequate descriptor for the anguish she felt over Ares's betrayal. She felt fairly certain that Castor wouldn't understand why she felt that way, just like she felt fairly certain he wouldn't approve of her earlier membership in the Blood Moon Court. There was nothing to approve of or be proud of there anymore, either, she decided, tracing the flame of her brooch with one finger.

She sighed at his outburst, shoulders slumping. Perhaps it wasn't obvious she'd already thought about that? "Sure I can," she said, holding up the phone she held in her hand. "There's enough fire on Gunn to last me for seven hundred years. And besides, I want to... I want to make sure it's safe." She shrugged, trying for lightness and failing, miserably.

Scrubbing her hands over the phone, she said, "It's not safe here, anyway, and I'm pretty sure getting gone will keep my family safer."

She glanced over at him, ice blue eyes--she remembered when they'd been true blue, radioactively blue--half-lidded as she thought it over. "I told someone my identity," she said, "someone I trusted, someone who was on our side. I trusted her with where I lived and showed her a way into my bedroom." She'd told Ares of the mirror in case her cell phone turned off. Now that seemed like a mistake. "Now she serves Chaos, where she used to serve... well, Order. Us." The redhead ground her teeth. "There's a Princess of Chaos on their side. She betrayed the Court for power--as if we didn't have enough already! Yes, we punished her, but she killed an innocent civilian. She gave charge of discipline to me and then became angry when I fulfilled my duties! As she'd given them to me!"

Things she'd never gotten to say to anyone came pouring out of her mouth, things she had never trusted another living person with--another living person who wasn't now corrupted--and she wasn't sure why but with her leaving, she didn't really care. All this would be behind her soon. "Ares," she said, "Serves Chaos, now." She didn't know how, she hadn't been there, but Birhan wouldn't lie to her about something like that. Nor would she lie about the three lost to Ares's insanity. "She is trying deliberately to corrupt all of her old court, and for all I know she knows who I am. And even if she wasn't, my presence puts my guardian in danger. Wolframite knows his name and could go find him at any time, but if they can't find me, if I stop, there's no more point. If I'm gone, he'll be safe."

She wound down with that, impassioned tone fading down to a little more than a soft murmur. There wasn't anything she could do. Could you file a restraining order against a psychopath? No, probably not.

She tuned out his cursing, blue eyes turning back towards the water. Was the glitter out there a monster? Gunn didn't care, she just wanted gone--gone, gone, gone. Space was a siren song, home was a beacon of hope that maybe by losing herself in her past memories things would get better. She'd miraculously discover some deep well of resolve, and then... And then... what?

"I hadn't slept in twenty hours and I thought he was my cousin," she said sourly. If not for the dim lighting, if not for the entire thing--joining the Blood Moon Court had been the wrong decision, that was the long and short of it. If she could do it again, she would refuse Ares's invitation, she would... she would have been...

Not normal. But closer. Could've ignored the horrid training schedule and painted, and sewn, and been a teenage girl. As opposed to... whatever she was now. Ugly, battle-scarred, running away from her problems rather than facing them head-on. What in the world was she even doing? The only thing she could, for Kres. "Kreszant doesn't know I'm a senshi," she said. "But if they go to look for him, they'll think he's lying... He won't go back home, though. I told him to. I told him I was leaving and if he was smart he'd go too. It's just... he's such a pigheaded idiot!"