Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was not difficult to get Vulcan's phone number. Vanessa was a serial texter, prone to advertising her own personal set of digits on facebook alongside invitations for conversation xoxo. There were more numbers in her cellphone than she knew what to do with, and she was familiar enough with most of the contacts to have given almost everyone a nickname. They ranged in cleverness from 'Smells Like Bacon Man' to 'Fluke Skywalker.'

When Penthesilea's text message flickered across her smartphone screen, it showed up under 'War Machine' and Vulcan had to pause a moment to remember exactly who she was.

In the end she decided it simply didn't matter, and left Blake alone in his basement suite after giving him a kiss on the cheek. He mumbled something under his breath, but Vulcan was too busy shutting the door and returning Penthesilea's text to hear what it was.



She arrived at the corner of tenth and man in full senshi regalia in less than fifteen minutes, prepared to kick some Chaotic a**.

"Hey," she greeted Penthesilea with a smile and a wave, aware of the dark signature lurking nearby. "Thanks for the invite."

The grin on Vulcan's face widened to mirror Penthesilea's. If she was excited by the idea of hunting Negaverse officers, it was nothing to the thrill she experienced at the prospect of taking on a General. It coupled with a jolt of fear that settled deep in her belly, and made Vulcan just a bit sick with both joy and nerves. It had been too long since she'd come up against an enemy with that kind of power.

Feeling both flattered and immensely satisfied that, out of all the people she could have texted, Penthesilea had reached out to her to take part in this battle, Vulcan stepped easily into a jog alongside her fellow senshi. Taking orders was much easier after a healthy ego stroke, and Penthesilea's invitation appealed to Vulcan's vanity on a number of levels. She was the senshi of war, for heaven's sake. Spheres couldn't get any more badass than that.

The street ahead of them was empty. Vulcan peered into the alleys as they passed them, aware of the fact that the General would be able to feel their approach.

That was good.

Volcanoes and war were coming for him.

Hell yes she could do that.

While deceit and dishonesty were generally anethma to Vanessa, the years she'd spent as a sailor scout had impressed upon Vulcan the importance of strategy, and Penthesilea's plan was a good one. Being sneaky gave them an advantage, and Vulcan was cocky enough as a warrior to thrill to the idea of challenging a General of the Negaverse on her own. Sort of. At least until Penthesilea managed to take him down from behind.

She gave Penthesilea a thumbs up, grinned wide, and then popped a lid off of a nearby trash can.

"I got this," she murmured, stepping out of the alley and into the light, too bold as a warrior to stick to the shadows. As Senshi they seemed to be always hiding, or lying to someone. Their families. The entire ******** world.

With the enemy, at least, they could be honest.

Wielding the trash can lid like a shield, Vulcan whistled to get Natron's attention.

"Hey you!" She did not care who heard. "I think we've got a little problem!"

The blade of Natron's kusarigama whistled through the air towards Vulcan's face. Instead of ducking or darting out of the way she lifted the trash can lid to shield herself. Metal sliced through metal, the force of Natron's throw imbedding the blade in the lid, and very nearly putting a hole in Vulcan's cheek.

Her heart quickened.

"You've got a good arm," Vulcan said, a little bit sorry that she could not ask Natron to join her father's baseball team. She wrenched the blade out of the trash can lid by the handle and held on.

Natron looked strong. Curious about what kind of damage he could do with all of those muscles, Vulcan rattled the chain of his kusarigama and tried to yank the other end out of his hands.

It happened so fast there was no time for Vulcan to shield herself or leap out of the way. One moment she was holding onto Natron's weapon, inviting him to play a little game of tug-of-war. The next? Natron was invading her personal space, standing as close as a lover, blade slicing into the tender flesh of her abdomen.

The Senshi of Volcanoes gasped because she lacked the breath to scream, jaw falling open at the pain in her midsection. The lid of the trash can fell to the road with a clatter. Tears sprung to her eyes, and blood blossomed crimson, staining the white of her fuku like a deathly flower, leaking onto Natron's blade.

Simultaenously thrilled and terrified, heart thundering in her chest, Vulcan lifted her hands to clutch at the back of Natron's head. Her fingers were shaky, but strong when they curled in his hair to hold him in place. She whimpered and then sunk her teeth into his ear, determined to take a little piece of him with her, if he was going to take her life.

She was too wrapped up in him to register Penthesilea's approach.