Welcome to Gaia! ::

Scylla had sent out the text before Caedus and his companions had arrived, and when the first reply rolled in she had been almost embarrassingly confused by it. She had been so distracted by trying to figure out what she could do for them that she'd forgotten about an idea she'd had... in general. But this was a grat time for it, she had mused over a straw, eyes focused on the simple text from Bellatrix- a familiar name, though one she hadn't heard mentioned in so long she had almost thought the other woman had gone the way of so many other 'elder' senshi and retired from the fight. Jada had tried; it hadn't stuck, even before she had Transcended.

It had taken some digging before she was able to find her notebook with her thoughts and scraps in it- this would be her first time talking up her idea to someone who she hadn’t approached with the idea first, and she was a little nervous, honestly. Would it be stupid, trying to once again create a team of ‘fighting’ senshi, who were familiar with each other and practiced actual techniques? Would she be able to attract some people trained in hand to hand combat, or would she only be fronting a gym subscription? Would they think the ‘Thorns’ was a stupid name? (Was the Thorns a stupid name? She had her reasons for it, and was prepared to defend it.)

There was a certain fierce charisma that the court leaders she knew of had, and Scylla wasn’t embarrassed to admit she was more mild-mannered; perhaps she listened too much, maybe she shouldn’t be putting herself forward as- No. Stop. The seed had been planted, as it were, and now she had to stop fretting and let it grow. People would come to see what her plans and hopes were, and allies would come. She wasn’t trying to revive a merry band of killers, she was trying to collect people who weren’t afraid to fight, who wanted this war to be over. That was where her own strengths lay- she couldn’t compare herself to others, that wouldn’t be fair, not to her, and not to them.

She had messaged back, of course, setting up a meeting place and time a couple of days later. Hope had been baking with her Papa, and so Jada (stole) collected a few dozen of the treats to ply her target with; maybe if Bella thought Scylla knew how to cook she’d be even more inclined to sign up to organize. All the better to punch Chaos in the face, right? Everyone wanted to punch Chaos in the face, except Chaos. And even they probably wanted to, sometimes. That was, after all, the definition OF it.

She wasn’t jittering nervously as she lurked on the rooftop of a really delicious sushi place- they had some fancy décor inside, and there was a lovely open-air garden area that the building was built around, and the senshi of the Kraken watched the staff cleaning up for the night, after the last customers were gone, waiting for her ‘date’ to arrive.

Part of what pleased Scylla about the questions Bellatrix had asked was the desire to be assured that they wouldn't sink to what the Blood Moon had been. None of the torment that had, in the end, paved the path to its eventual destruction- at least so Jada saw it. Scylla didn't want her team, or Court, or whatever, to give out cakes to celebrate a murder. A lack of hesitation to violence was needed, but she wanted... rules. There needed to be structure, it was what the White Moon had so desperately lacked. For calling themselves Order, their lack of it was... almost inspiring.

The brightness of another aura struck Scylla first, and it was strange to feel that clear aura coming towards her. Those Chaos auras she could feel at the edges of her senses seemed to scatter as the Transcended senshi drew nearer, perhaps intimidated by the clarity of their combined auras? Or maybe they just didn't want to pick a fight with two Eternals.

The clack of heels was what brought the Kraken senshi to turn, and she let her eyes dance over the other, taking in the markings and the clear warrior-like trappings of her fuku. "Probably!" Scylla agreed with a cheerful smile, and held out the small container she had spent the last few minutes clutching like it was a floatie while she waited. "I come bearing gifts. I didn't bake them, I promise; they're edible."

Take deep breaths. Stay composed. Don't be too nervous, don't get too excited. Make a good impression!

"I have two 11-year olds and a 6-year old living with me and they all like to bake cookies. I need to get rid of as many as I can on a regular basis. Any time you're in need of a sugary pick-me-up while you're adjusting to Earth life again, fresh-baked cookies are a phone call away." the reassurance was quick, dry, and tinged with some desperation. "Please. Take advantage of the cookies. If I gain any more weight I'm not going to fit into my fuku."

Humming, Scylla considered. "I've been back on the scene since August after a short hiatus of my own. Planet and Parent duties taking precedence over keeping track of current events. From what I can tell the status is still fairly quo. Feels a bit imbalanced but we have a lot of raw recruits to hone. The Negaverse is still a military organization. We had an alien come through, apparently a regular, and he left a few unique little alien critters behind. We've not got more aliens roaming about trying to collect energy to try and blast Metallia. I don't know if you were around to meet Caedus- I don't remember exactly when he was freed. He was a prisoner in the rift for a long time before escaping and they are his allies."

Huffing out a breath. "The merchant mentioned issues with the Surrounding, and things moving out past it. Caedus' faction wants to blow up the Negaverse. Cosmos isn't inclined to aid us- we've basically gotten her galactic answering machine. So... I want to revisit getting a combat team together." she brought it around from recent events to... her reason. "If the Surrounding is starting to fail and we're opening to attack from evil aliens, and other aliens are here to pick a fight with the Negaverse to try and help anti-Chaos Earth, I figure... maybe we can get some senshi doing some fighting. An organized group familiar with each other and their own abilities, to serve as a strike team when s**t goes South."

When. Not If.

Things always went South.