Welcome to Gaia! ::

The breeze felt cool against his face as he jogged through the streets. It was a simple sensation, but one that felt odd to him now. He rarely appeared anywhere without the mask. It was easier, in many ways, simply to remain Serpentine. There was a respect that came from a General level aura; there was distance automatically kept. Distance was important when one bore as many scars as he did. Without the mask, he had to take much more elaborate preparation to hide them. Clothing covered the bulk on his chest and limbs, but the face… the face was always difficult. No amount of concealer could fully erase the marks, though he used it to even out his tone and tone down the most elaborate. From a distance, it was passable.

He had left Richard passed out on his bed. His friend had decided that all of Krishna’s beer was delicious and downed it, with the Indian’s blessing. That the ginger had been willing and able to power down, to relax, and now to rest? It was the best possible scenario. It was what he had wanted, truly. Time away from the Rift, for both of them. Destiny City did not provide much respite from the Negaverse, but it was still better than the all consuming darkness, the cries of youma… the sycophants that threw themselves onto Buddingtonite, the ones that stared at him and wondered how he could have moved from Spec-Ops to PR. As though he had something to prove to them.

The run was liberating. There was no added strength or speed to help him along this challenge. Only his own strength and endurance. Yes, his lungs burned. Yes, his legs absorbed the shock of the concrete in a different way than they were accustomed, with little worn athletic shoes instead of well worn boots. Yes, the sweat gleaming down his face would likely ruin all of his efforts in front of the mirror as the make up disintegrated. But here, in this moment, he was free. He could choose how hard to push and where to go.

So, he picked up his speed and headed towards another part of Destiny City which he had not visited in a long, long time. The soccer fields… were they as green as ever? Did as many citizens willingly come to them, or were they worried that too much fun might make them a target of some Negaverse agent with more time than enemies on his hands?

There was only one way to find out.

Yes, the fields were green. Apparently, control over the city’s resources still extended to maintaining public areas. He should not be surprised. Keeping up appearances was after all part of the core duties of Public Relations. However, few citizens were using the carefully manicured fields as the jogger came upon them. He saw a standard Negaverse patrol - two captains and a lieutenant - keeping watch over the area, a few dog walkers, but only one person lingering around to play. As he drew closer, that one person became less a blur and more familiar.

“Sekani?” At first, he said it in a labored whisper. It had been literal years since he had seen the man with whom he had been enamored. Yet, there he stood. Compared to Krishna, the teal-haired athlete had not changed much since their first meeting. Still glistening with sweat on a grassy field. Still lithe and limber, body perfectly at ease with itself as it moved - navigating a soccer ball, this time, rather than climbing a tree. Still filled with energy and life, which in this gloomy city state was no small treasure Once they had drifted apart, he had never thought he would see Sekani again.

Krishna blundered forward, changing his course to join the other on the field. The grass would stain his white shoes, but he did not care. At this range, his scars would be noticeable in areas where the makeup had thinned, but he did not care. For the first time in a long time, his heart stirred with an emotion other than acceptance or anger. What emotion it was, he could not name. Intense like relief, warm as affection, panging like denial... some queer brew that combined to overpower the pride that would have held him back on any normal day. “SEKANI!”

It almost hurt to look at him.

’Hey, Krishna.’

Two little words and a small wave to bridge years of separation. When had they lost contact? After the Negaverse had made its master strike and taken control of Destiny City, for sure. After Krishna Dhawan was publicly known as General Serpentine. Had his weapon driven his lover away? Was it fear of the conqueror, fear of association, that led to unreturned calls and then a disconnected number? Perhaps the florist was at fault for never reaching out physically after that, but his pride and vanity would not allow him to go. He never handled rejection well, and this time had not been an exception. His work distracted him; the Negaverse demands of him as it quelled the city and ran it kept him busy enough, and then Buddingtonite’s promotion to General-King had increased his responsibilities. There were others who wanted him, valued him, needed him.

As time went on, however, the absence was keenly felt. Loved ones became fewer and fewer. The missions mattered less to him. Richard changed. The Negaverse changed. Or… maybe he had been the one to change. Whatever the case, now that Sekani was before him again, the florist’s heart felt a little lighter. A small smile crossed his face, an expression he rarely had cause to use now, as he reached the other man’s side. “You look well.”

What else could he say? He ran a hand through his hair. Surely frankness would be best. Frankness had ever been his shield against misunderstandings. He did not wish to appear weak; he never did. But the emotion in his voice was genuine when he reached out to touch Sekani’s cheek. “I have missed you.”

’You were not there to hold me when Brahma died. You were not there to listen as I lamented Anandi’s change. You were not there to see me gain these scars or to soothe me as Richard descended. How much easier would all of it had been, had you still been lying at my side every night? Now that I have found you again, how can I convince you to stay?’

Krishna was aware of the Negaverse patrol coming closer, but he paid them no real mind. He was a General; they were subordinates. They would keep their noses out of his business or he would make their lives hellish. Right now, all he wanted to do was rekindle this relationship that he had thought was lost.

Krishna was not surprised to see fear in Sekani’s eyes. As Serpentine, he had done, and continued to do, much that would reasonably evoke that emotion. On the faces of his enemies, it had once been wonderful, heady proof of his power and influence. Like most drugs, however, each hit had resulted in less of a high. Now, he found more pleasure when those he trained expressed curiosity about his flower shop or in the rare moments when he could tend to his plants. Fear was a useful tool, but it was not satisfying.

For the briefest of moments, he wondered what he would do if he was rejected again. He was no stranger to the scars, and unlike when he wore his uniform, he had no mask with which to hide them. Perhaps they would be enough to scare Sekani away. His ego would not tolerate the blow, that much was certain. Such concerns were eclipsed in the brightness of the other man’s smile, the familiar weight against his palm.

Whatever awkwardness remained between them from their separation evaporated quickly. Krishna luxuriated in those few words. It was enough to know he had been missed, that he was not alone in his feelings. When those arms wrapped around his neck, he could take no offense at the laugh or the crack towards his looks. He would have struck anyone else for daring to say such a thing, but not Sekani. Not when it was natural, easy... comfortable, in a way he had not been in far too long. It was not an insult as much as an observation said with the same brashness he had always loved. The only painful aspect to it was the weight with which it was spoken.

He would have sought to comfort it, in his way, had the patrol not interrupted them. One of the Captains whistled, the current of air blowing across her companion’s giant pinwheel even as she gripped her own crowbar. “Can’t believe you’re still standing after dissing his looks. Want us to shut his mouth for you, General?”

He recognized the crew now that they were up close. Rejected Lovelies, every one, as none of them met Buddingtonite's rather exacting standards. It wasn't hard to see why. Captain Crunchite obviously continued in her presumption that matted, ground-length dreadlocks were the height of fashion. Captain Windine drenched himself with a particularly potent cologne which led to him smelling like a rancid lemon. Lieutenant Finkite looked normal. Too normal. Nothing stood out. Often, it was hard to remember she was there at all. Superficial yes, but for someone with Buddingtonite's demanding eye cause for rejection nevertheless.

Far more damning in Serpentine's eyes was that the trio had not met his standards either. It was clear to him that their interest in his friend began and ended with the prestige being Lovelies would offer them. Serpentine had, as he always did, taken responsibility for seeing they did not join the group. He kept them at a physical distance from the General-King on whom they wished to leech. He listened to their ridiculous attempts to try to attract Buddingtonite's attention, listened to their professions of loyalty and admiration, but mostly he listened to their complaints that he was not fit to stand at his partner's side.

Krishna did nothing to hide his distaste now. Without moving from Sekani’s embrace or turning to address them, he scoffed, “No. Return to your patrol.” It was clearly an order. He outranked all three of them, and up until this point one of their collective good qualities was that they followed orders. He considered the matter closed at the point.

The crunch of a crowbar to the back of his knees, however, showed that the three other officers did not.

Krishna was convinced that the three officers had, indeed, ‘lost it.’ There was simply no other explanation for the sudden, stupid assault. His knee immediately crumbled against the force of the crowbar, and he could feel Sekani’s clinging attempts to cushion some of his fall. All the same, he landed solidly against the field. Crunchite followed up her initial strike with a kick to the back, sending the more experienced officer face first to the ground and pinning him there with one stiletto heel directly between his shoulder blades.

“You ******** up, ‘General.’ Isolated area, running alone, distracted by some blue-haired bimbo… basically, all the things you told us not to do while in training. Thought we’d never get a chance to pay you back for the s**t you put us through.” The Captain sneered, increasing the pressure whenever Krishna tried to push himself up from his position. “Must be our lucky day.”

"Why don't you shut the loud mouth up with your eraser, Finkite? We'll take care of Derpentine here." Windine wore a smile as sickly as his odor as he aimed a kick for the pinned man's head. The impact caused his vision to blur and the too familiar taste of blood to coat his mouth.

Despite this latest abuse, Krishna's hand shot out to take hold of lieutenant's booted ankle as she began to move towards Sekani. It was not enough. He needed to don his own uniform, to let Chaos fill him with familiar power. Even with his years of experience, these three officers would continually overpower him without it. Right now, however? The throbbing pain in his knee, the dizziness from his head wound, and his own focus on keeping his former lover safe prevented him from emerging as Serpentine. All the same, he dug his fingernails into the leather and grit his teeth as Crunchite's pointed heel dug further into his back and Windine landed another kick, this time to his ribs.

For their insubordination, for pushing him down into the dirt... and for ruining this precious moment, these three were going to pay. He would endure, wait for his chance to power up and strike. He had survived far worse.

He did not want Sekani to be here when their blood began to flow.

The boot slipped through his fingers, and with it any hope that Sekani would be spared. The realization that a strike was coming did nothing to cushion the blow for Krishna. Finkite throwing the eraser, physically painless though it may have been, was an infuriating insult that enflamed his own, very real injuries. Attacking civilians was, at times, necessary - if they were protesting, if they were Order supporters. That they would harm his companion out of nothing but spite towards Sekani’s words and association with him proved how low they were. Or perhaps merely confirmed what he had not wanted to believe but now acknowledged as true. That the Negaverse was no longer the place that he and his partner belonged.

Windine’s order for Finkite to attack with her fists was the appropriate decision, and one the florist might have appreciated on any other day, in any other fight. The follow-up strike was heard, not seen, as he moved his arms to take another blow aimed for his head. The crack of a punch. The confident crow. He bit his lip and assessed his own situation. Some of the dizziness and nausea from the initial head strike had passed, and the blocked kick had not caused them to flare again. His knee had quieted to a dull, throbbing ache. He could stand, if given the opportunity. His ribs were at the least bruised and more likely cracked, but he had fought with such injuries before.

A sudden shout from Sekani interrupted both Krishna’s scheming and further abuse from his assailants. The call was of a type the general had heard several times during his service to the Negaverse, but none had ever been in his former lover’s voice. His gaze could not leave the splash of white water or the feathers that fluttered down to reveal an unfamiliar fuku of orange and blue. The wings alone declared level - Eternal - but that was not as striking as the shift itself. His racing heart pounded faster.

’One of them. Sekani… he’s one of them?!

It hurt, but less than Krishna might have thought it would. Had he known years ago, it would have devastated him. He would have felt sick from the violation of trust between them. He would have felt compelled to corrupt that precious starseed, to darken Sekani’s unique spark. Now? Now his past experiences and regret numbed him. The light did not burn as much as it warmed old wounds. He could not deny the stark truth before his eyes, or ignore how much time had been wasted that he and this man--this Senshi--could have spent together.

’Yet another I hold dear taken from me by the war. Nærøyfjord claims love can save Richard, save me… but can ours bloom on so blood-soaked a field? Or has that seedling died from neglect?’

Now was not the time for such thoughts. The encounter was taking an even darker tone. Windine’s chuckle was as rancid as his cologne as he shifted his attention towards the newly emerged Senshi. Clearly, his confidence was riding high from he and his partners’ successful attacks thus far. “Well, well, well! Looks like we get the added benefit of telling General-King Buddingtonite that not only were you cheating on him but that it was with a Senshi. C’mon, Finkite. I call dibs on his starseed!”

Crunchite was likewise distracted and clearly torn about how to proceed. Senshi, and Knights, were enemies number one of their organization. Ignoring any, but especially a strong one such as an Eternal, could be a punishable offense on its own. Ignoring one to attack a fellow officer? If anyone found out they’d be toast! Her victim took full advantage of her distraction.

A series of shimmering shadows covered Krishna’s form until he was wrapped in darkness. As he was clothed in green and golden brown, familiar Chaos filled him. Even if he later renounced it, for now its strength was a comfort and a tool. As the mask settled over his face and the black snake whip appeared in his hand, he used his strength to push himself out from the weight of her boot. He followed this action with a flick of his whip against her leg to draw first blood.

Crunchite howled as the whip split stocking and skin and willingly put more distance between herself and Serpentine. However, she was a determined fighter and not easily put off by pain. When he reached his full height, she looped her arms around the General from behind, pressing the cold metal crowbar against his windpipe and seeking to choke him. Even with her heels there was some height difference between them, and as of yet the grip was not overly tight. It would get worse the longer he waited… but she was one combatant, while Sekani took on two. Should he keep her from moving on to the Senshi, or continue his fight here?

Hearing Windine’s triumphant cackle made his decision easier. Serpentine elbowed his attacker hard in her solar plexus and was rewarded with a ‘fwoofing’ sound as the air spilt out of her. As soon as he was free, he turned around and took hold of Crunchite’s face, sliding his gloved hands beneath her ratty dreads. The fear in her eyes meant nothing to him as he twisted her head sharply to the left with a sickening crack. A good, clean break, one he had done countless times before. A swifter death than she deserved.

As one Captain fell limply to the ground, the General shifted his attention to the other one. He raised his arm for a fierce strike and let the whip fly. His intended target did not receive the cutting edge due to a water-logged Finkite slipping her way forward on slick stones. She unintentionally intercepted the attack, but her piercing shriek did nothing to ease Serpentine’s irritation. With a curse, he dashed forward, up to the point of the stones that had tripped up the lieutenant. He had always thought Crunchite the most competent of the trio, but it had been Windine who had been promoted first. How could he have forgotten that cruel, ambitious streak?

It was startlingly clear now, as he towered over the Eternal in the grass. Serpentine reacted out of logic rather than emotion, his mind racing for a strategy. He could not get to Sekani because of the magic that had been activated. He could teleport the short distance, but it might take away energy he would need later. Finkite made the decision for him. Scrambling over the stones, the silent but loyal lieutenant came for him with surprising tenacity and jerked on his leg to pull him down with her.

When Serpentine looked up again, Windine's hand was piercing Sekani's chest. Time slowed. Blood thundered in his ears, muffling whatever sounds were spewing like vomit from Windine's mouth. He kicked hard, scraping his knee and thigh against slick rock but freeing himself from Finkite's desperate grasp. He forced himself to a crouching position, no easy task with the enchanted area. His whip lay among the rapids,a necessary sacrifice for full use of his hands. He then teleported himself behind the over confident Captain. He had been loathe to waste the energy earlier in case he needed it. He would never need it more than he did now. Windine literally held the promising gleam of their future in his reeking hands.

Serpentine did not remember every corruption done under his tenure, but he remembered the one that kept him from ever repeating the rite himself. He remembered Anandi's eyes brimming with tears of pain, saw constantly the twisted version of the girl who had long been a family friend walking around. But it was not Anandi. Her vibrancy, her unique, honest cheer... he had taken that away from her, when he corrupted her to the Negaverse.

He would not tolerate the same happening to Sekani. He had given enough, too much. He had lost his looks, his brother, his best friend… his lover. All to this stupid, meaningless war, because of rotten nobodies like this trio nipping ever at his heels, waiting to trip him up and leave him and those he held dear in the dirt. No more. No. More. He deserved happiness; he needed hope. Desperation pushed him into a final, base ugliness. He did not care about hypocrisy or personal pain. As long as Sekani lived, as long as he could feel that warmth once again.

His hand shot into Windine's unguarded back and found its target. Everything Windine was, or ever could be, resided in the glimmering, crystalline seed currently in his grasp. He did not even look at it as he crushed it to dust.

Serpentine shoved the Captain's corpse aside and fell to his knees. His gloved hands stretched out for the prone Senshi. Finkite could wait. The entire Negaverse could wait. He needed to hear his lover's voice, to ensure that it was not too late. If his love could not protect that untainted light from sinking into the darkness, then what chance did he have with extracting Richard, or himself, from its grip? "Sekani?"

He had to be safe. He had to be.