Event || In Your Worst Memory

[0301120113092025]

Characters: All Heroes of Light. Only those who signed-up can start a memory.
Where: Interdimensional Rift
When: May 27th - May 30th
Summary: The Heroes of Light relive some of their worst memories, with a twist. All characters participating in this will be physically missing from Crystallis for the duration of the event.
Warning: It depends on the memory.

Where you were or what you were doing— It does not really matter. Not any more. Everything around you freezes, nearly as if time itself stopped, as if the world was frozen in time. And before you have a chance to understand what is happening, you can hear a voice right behind you.

"Kali Shashidhwaja."

Should you turn around, you may see a child who seems to be the only one aside from you unaffected by what is happening. And as she stares right at you, it makes no doubt these strange words are aimed at you. But before you can reply to her, the world around you collapses. Reality twists and shatters... Or maybe you are the one who is collapsing and shattering away from reality as you know it. No matter what the answer is, it will only take a few seconds for you to find yourself sinking into a void, Crystallis vanishing into the distance. There is nothing but darkness as far as the eye can see.

And once again you feel different: all the powers from your Jobs are fading. Not only that, but you might find that your Crystal is gone and your clothes back to what they were before you woke up in Crystallis. It is silent, cold and before long it feels as though life itself is slipping out of you... And yet, slowly the world reforms around you. The darkness fades away and a new world appears, yet at the same time this is not a world.

This is a memory. The question is, is it yours or that of someone else?

Comments

Vincent Valentine--Repeating Loop--Passive

[bloodypast]

Nibelheim, Shinra Mansion.

It was a familiar, though hardly comforting setting. A spartan and cold office, set in a mansion with the bare minimum of light inside. The two large windows set slightly off-center of each other that were open looked more like bright and glaring eyes. Between them, the larger double-bay windows were shuttered tightly. Wall sconces barely provided enough light to keep the shadows at bay.

A desk dominated the space, two lamps at either end, quickly becoming the center of the memory. Especially the figure seated, his face in shadow, and his right arm resting on the wooden surface. The window behind him highlighting white coat, blue tie.

“Is it true?” A voice asks, clear it belongs to the owner of this memory as he faces the seated figure. There's hints of accusation. A need to have whatever it is confirmed.

“Is what true?” The seated figure's voice is higher, tone arched and leading. Making the other ask directly.

“That Lucretia...” There is a pause, and the memory's is overlaid with carefully held back emotions flavoring the tone before they are reined in. “That Dr. Crescent is to take part in this project?”

“It's true.” A feminine voice interjects, heels echoing on the stone floor. A new presence in the light cast by the window while the seated figure remains in shadow. Long chestnut hair tied in a high ponytail, yellow ribbon bringing out golden highlights. Wisps of hair and bangs framing a delicate face, some falling to the side over her profile and only highlighting dark eyes. Like the seated figure she wore a white labcoat. But a silver chain necklace and a pale blue top with lighter ruffle and complimenting skirt contrasted its austere nature.

Her face is set with gentle determination as she pauses, then moves closer to the desk. Never directly next to the seated figure. Yet clear on what side she is taking.

The memory-owner's jaw drops slightly, surprise coloring the memory's feel. A sense of denial, of disbelief leaking through despite any control.

“Why are you so surprised?” She asks, hints of her own curiosity at the reaction in the undertone. The seated man's head can be made out while still in shadow, to have turned to her as she came up. With her question, that gaze returned to the owner of this memory—light glinting faintly through the dark on the edge of glasses the seated man is wearing. His demeanor conveys he finds this all as interesting as a mere game would be for others.

“But using your own child. For an experiment?” Disbelief and denial are clear in the words, a sense of faint horror at the very ideas. The calm and cold-mask is failing, even as the memory's owner seeks to grasp at it. Feeling his own hands rise up slightly, clench, as if trying to physically grasp something. Whether the 'truth' of what he's hearing or the remains of his professional pride.

“HAH!” The seated man's voice is harsh and derisive “I don't know what you're implying. But both of us are scientists.” Emphasis on the title, his words carrying disappointment that someone dared to question it. “We know what we are doing.” Clipped tones and firm in the conviction.

“You are the last person to have any word in this.” Agitation, hints of anger from the seated man as he leans forward aggressively though his face is still shadowed. “Now. Leave us at once...” Dismissive and secure in the righteousness of his position; hammering it in with a final, disgusted word. “...Boy.”

The female scientist, Dr. Crescent, does not say anything. Her gaze is slightly down though her head is still raised in determination. Her own professional mask in place.

“But...” The memory's owner protests, unable to bite the word, the question, back.

“...But what?” Dr. Crescent responds, tone challenging and low.

The owner can feel his fingers still curled tight into fists, hanging at his sides now. He makes a noise in query, unsure of his own reaction, and Dr. Crescent's reply is too calm and cool. “If you have something to say, say it!” His shoulders dropped, his weight and posture shifted slightly to the right. Holding tightly to his dignity even as he feels part of himself rail against these revelations.

Shifting his weight slightly and almost taking a step, as the memory's owner tilts his head more in her direction. Speaking as if he still can't believe what he's hearing. “Are you...” The motion continues, a full step closer, to the right and towards the desk, attention focused on Dr. Crescent. One last attempt, tone imploring her to change her mind.

“Are you sure? This is what you really want?”

Dr. Crescent's head turns, looking at the owner of this memory finally. Her own calm falling, and tone rising. “Am I sure?” Dark eyes are angry, her posture shifting slightly forward. Her hand rises towards her chest as she all but shouts “Am I sure?”

“If this only concerns me then yes, I am sure.” Throwing the hand she'd brought up out, in clear defiant gesture with her words, tone no longer calm but impassioned. Accusatory, angry, seeking to wound.

All the memory's owner can say in response, unable to meet her eyes, is a low voiced “...oh.” Disappointment, regret stab through him. “...I...” Unaware he's spoken, as if he were alone. “...I just...”

His head bowed, eyes closing as he pulled the shattered remains of dignity and professional pride around him. Seeking the cold mask of the Bodyguard. Seeking whatever comfort it might bring now.

”All I did was watch.” Regret. So much guilt and regret, and an awareness from the owner of this memory. Vincent Valentine's memory. “I didn't even try to stop her.” A heavy pause, waiting. “And then...”

He stood there, remains of his professionalism pulled around him like a coat. Watching as Dr. Crescent moved around the desk. Her heels clicking slowly in measured strides across the floor. It happened between one step and the next as she moved away. Her head tilted upwards, mouth opening in silent shock as she fell to her knees. Dark eyes wide and staring, hands curled over her stomach protectively.

Whatever discomfort was assaulting her, Lucretia had made it clear. She did not want Vincent's care or help. It pained him, but he remained where he was. Wrapping tarnished dignity tighter around his wounded emotions even as her face contorted in pain.

”That was my sin.”



The memory is immediately followed by another, emotions of agitation and anger coloring the overall feel of the scene.



Rapid footsteps and a demanding“Talk!” in Vincent's voice, approaching someone. It is the other scientist from the former memory. He stands slightly hunched, his figure gaunt, and face and upper body still hidden in shadow. Hands and arms hang at his side, and the silver barrel of a gun shows its presence in his right hand. Dark stone walls and wooden floors; it is the same mansion but in a different room with no windows. “Why did you let this happen?”

“Silence!” The scientists voice is harsh, scraping, but firm in the command to Vincent's agitation.

“You...” Vincent whispers, incredulous and cut off by a louder “Silence!” from the scientist as he races the gun, the barrel all but in Vincent's face. It is a point blank shot, the sharp crack accompanied by a flash of orange-red, and the view swaying before the owner of the memory—Vincent Valentine—falls to the ground.

The view stays with him, edges blurry and distorted as pain ripped through his body. Dark brown shoes and pants dominate his darkening vision, the scientist having lowered the gun as he steps closer. “...why?” The harsh voice asks, sounding annoyed and disbelieving at the same time.

Dark brown and black from the wood and the scientist's shoes starts to become red-tinged then grow blacker as Vincent can feel his awareness fading. “Why can't these people just keep quiet!” The harsh voice is now fading, sounding as if it's heard through an echo in a bubble. Even then the disdain is clear as the scientist continues musing to himself.

“Yes.” It's murmured, his steps pacing slightly away, the words growing more indistinct as Vincent attempts to move and finds his body no longer obeys his mind. His consciousness is sliding away, only determination and hatred allowing him to hear the words. “I can use...” Words faded for a moment “..body, for my next experiment.” Ominous, a sense of growing horror in Vincent's memory and suddenly so aware of the harsh overhead light of the office, of shining tubes and canisters with a distinct green glow. Aware of the wood beneath him, sticky, wet, and of himself helpless as harsh laughter slides over the scene. Madness tinges the laughter, discordant, sure-of-itself, growing higher and more confident.

There is a glee that sounds so very wrong as the scientist's laughter breaks. Words still sounding as if they're being heard through an echo. “...a genius.” His arms raise triumphantly. “...'s what I am.”

Vincent's mind can't hold on anymore; the pain is too much, he's too weak, and consciousness fades away as the scientist continues to speak. Fading feelings of anger, of hatred, and of failure. All fading too, as the memory goes black.





[OOC: The cue-points on the video, are 4:48 through to 7:00. The second memory starts at 9:02, and carries on to the end—although Vincent's awareness of it fades. The video is https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUtpAyjWZxc. Dirge of Cerberus, though not Vincent's canon-point-yet provided the clearest cut-scenes. The two memories will loop back to back repeatedly, and are passive. Characters can comment on them, but not interact—although Vincent, the owner of the memories, can comment and interact with them. It's as if he's watching them again, outside himself. ]

[unyieldingspirit]

The word 'experiment' worried K'pandolu greatly- particularly when a child was mentioned-, and she listened closely. Still, it offered no great insight into what, exactly, had happened- except that this person had failed. She brought her arms up, ineffective as it was against the buffeting emotions, and peered forwards.

"But what happened?" she asked, only half hoping for an answer.

[OTA]

[shinrasfinest]

He knew that place. Perhaps not specifically those two windows and that particular desk with it's archaic-type gas-lamps but-

“Is what true?”

The voice that came in reply, there was no mistaking. That voice had spent a great deal of Sephiroth's childhood in the background yet there were no misplacing the high, almost-whining tones of the Shinra scientist, Hojo. He'd eventually conditioned himself to shut it out, how just listening to that man crept apprehension right up his back. As Sephiroth had grown older, gained independence from the Science dept, learned how to fight, he'd gained an immunity to it but here -in this setting, and perhaps as a result of details he knew now but hadn't before- it was as if he were a 6 year old once more. Visibly, Sephiroth stiffened his posture and his resolve as the memory played out before him.

The project.

He knew, he'd learned before through a combination of reliving his own to-be memory beforehand and the notes he'd read of Hollander's before even coming to Crystallis that the Science Dept knew no limits where it came the morality might get in the way of progression. Genesis himself had said that he were born the perfect result of countless failed experiments beforehand- how many unborn children had been-

But it might not even be the Jenova project-
He thought to himself as Sephiroth continued to watch, wide-eyed and as it progressed before him his facial expression threatened to twist downwards at the mouth as if in pain. His sharp logic quickly connecting the dots-

Hojo. Nibelheim. The project.
No. It had to be another experiment, another project.

His heart skipped a beat as Lucrecia seemed to succumb to something of a seizure and buckle to the floor. It wasn't until Sephiroth had taken a step forwards before he remembered that it were someone else's memory and he couldn't interfere with it.

--

Next Experiment.

"Hojo." Sephiroth spoke lowly at the end of it, having curled his arms up tightly into being folded over his chest and averted his gaze throughout much of the second scene. A rotten, stinging ball of disgust had risen up into the back of his throat as with only fleeting glimpses he sought out who among those witnessing might be the owner of these memories.

"He never did learn when to stop." Raw bitterness lanced through those words and then Sephiroth forced his head down, eyes shut as the scene seemed to be repeating itself.

Vincent Valentine--Repeating Loop--Passive

[thegreatninja]

"Hey!"

There was darkness before the dream started and it took all of Yuffie's energy not to shout. As the scene began she looked between those talking. What was this? She looked from the familiar man and that at the familiar looking woman. Something was off but there were features in each that she knew. This conversation sucked. Yuffie didn't like it and yet they kept talking even as she screamed at the three people.

When the dream faded she was almost thankful, that was until it started up again. Now there was a gun. It always ended in violence didn't it? She kicked a wall trying to channel some of her frustration.

"This is so stupid!"

She knew where she was and she could guess who these people were. She glared at the man in shadow and then at the woman when the dream restarted. They were both horrible people each in their own ways or at least, that's what Yuffie was left to believe.

[wickedone]

What was this place... Where was he? Albel realized he was in another memory, though unlike before, nothing was recognizable. This was not Elicoor, nor was it one of the bright, flashing places Fayt might have known. He must be experiencing the past of one of the other Heroes of Light -- but who?

He'd figure that out later. First, he simply squinted as his eyes tried to adjust to the poor light, the glare seemingly made worse by the emotion of the memory -- strangely enough. Albel didn't know what exactly "scientists" were, but these people were clearly academics, not unlike Elicoor's runologists. But experimenting on children, no matter where or what one was? That was just wrong -- always.

The gunshot took him by surprise, much to his chagrin. Such loud weapons these people had... Even though he'd heard plenty of strange noises and seen strange projectiles once the Vendeeni arrived, and ever after, it still made Albel flinch when he wasn't expecting it. The immediate embarrassment was almost as palpable as the intense memory of pain, which had Albel's mind spinning. Pain, so much pain, from something barely seen and just so loud... He had no idea what the other man was babbling about, could only be overwhelmed by the pain and the distant sensation of wet, sticky, a familiar scent... Blood?

"What... is this?" he managed once it all faded, before it started again fresh.

MIDNA'S DESPERATE HOUR. ( mixed : passive → interactive )

[fusedshadows]

ooc ; the following tl;dr can be avoided by watching here from the start until about 4:20. a single thread would make the most sense here (no posting order required!), but multiple threads are welcome too! plotting comment found here for the twist / thread direction and intent!


The Lanaryu Spring. Restored to it former glory and basking once more in the glimmering world of light, a familiar faced young man materializes through darkness pieced together, looking rather pleased. Nodding towards the lake below the ledge, Link turned -- immediately bumping into a strangely dressed figure, causing him to jump back in surprise, a twisted silent scream going unheard, felt by his presence alone.

As though compelled to act, a great snake emerged from the lake, a brightness emanating from the great serpent, as though he held light itself in its fangs. But with a subtle rise of his arm, the man, Zant, banishes the spirit with ease, a pulse originating from his body expanding outwards, sending both it, and Link, reeling. With ease, Zant lowered his arm again, the whole world around them dimming into twilight, with Link on the ground... however where once a young man had laid, a wolf now sprawled. And beside him, hidden in the hero's shadow all this time... Midna.

"Zant!" she was obviously less than happy with the reunion, her eye narrowing.

But before she could say any more than that, an invisible force seemed to take hold of her, pinning her mid air with her arms spread outwards, held by his power alone. Her greeting went ignored, and the king stepped forward -- pieces of the fused shadows she and Link had collected together taking shape around her. Struggling against her restraints, the imp could only watch as they gathered before him by his beckon.

"Did you honestly mean to take an ancient and withered power like this and turn it against me?" Banishing the fused shadows backwards without a single movement, Zant seemed unimpressed with what had apparently been her plan. "You are a foolish traitor Midna." A pause. "Why do you defy your king?"

"My KING?" Midna cried, sickened even by the sound of those words. "You, who do nothing but abuse the magic of your tribe? You must be joking!" she spat, the anger below the surface beginning to boil.

"How dare you?!" Somehow, Zant still had a way of sounding so horribly indignant. It grated on the imp all the more now... "Are you implying that my power is our old magic? Now THAT is a joke!" He turned on his heel, and in the air, Midna went with the motion, whizzing by him as he slammed her into the ground face first, dust and dirt kicking up with the force that drove her down. "This power is granted to me by my god! It is the magic of the King of Twilight and you WILL respect it! a red energy began to grow in a sphere just in front of him, glowing with a malicious intent. Bigger and bigger it grew as Midna struggled to push herself up from the ground, gritting her teeth together.

The wolf seemed to finally come to, and leaping towards Zant to attack, but instead -- colliding with the energy the king had gathered, which once again sent Link reeling backwards. Beside him, with her back to Zant, Midna reached for the wolf, trying to assess the damage, looking the hero over...

But again without even having to lay a hand on her, Zant pulled Midna back towards him, binding her hands at the wrist this time as he pulled her close against him, forcing her head up as he leaned forward, brushing against her shoulder.

"My Midna..." he began, "Did you forget? That beast is one of the light dwellers who oppressed our people." Zant leaned closer, his mask sliding alongside of her face with the motion. All she could do was glare at him defiantly from the corner of her eye. "No matter how much you may desire otherwise, you will never be more than a shadow in their world. You cannot consort with their kind. But if we can make their world ours, Midna... light and darkness will meet at last. Our tribe will take back their realm... and sweet darkness will blot out this harsh light!" She could feel her heart beat faster, the more he prattled on... "And that, Midna, is why..." The mouthpiece of his mask seemed to recede, then lift -- revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth, and sour breath that was hot against her cheek, leaning closer still to whisper into her ear. "I need you."

Midna was unmoving. Her hands were fists, desperate to pull apart, no longer looking his way but focusing hard on the ground instead. "Not just for me," Zant began anew, "but for all of our people... Lend me your power." With a silent burst of strength, or perhaps a lapse in his, the imp finally broke away from his grasp, once more at Link's side, while a sickening sort of grin seemed to cross Zant's lips as he stood watching the scene.

"So be it... I will return you to the light world you covet!" The force of his magic took hold of the imp again, dangling her in mid air -- as the king ruthlessly lifted an arm again, the spirit Lanaryu taking shape once more, the light gathering in its mouth, Midna directly in its sights.

With a painful scream, the world around them became enveloped in light once more, the magic that held Midna in place prevented her from even having the chance to seek shelter in the shadows, exposing her to the burning brightness fully -- as she cried out all the while...

It was only by the mercy of the spirit that the pair was taken from that place... deposited in the darkness of Hyrule's vast fields, the grand castle a monument in the distance. Shaking to clear his head, the wolf landed on his feet, the realization of what had just happened setting in. Turning his neck sharply, Link could sense the familiar weight on his back, though her appearance made her look worse for wear. Like a negative image of her former self, exposed to too much light...

And then, a voice. "Link... hero chosen by the goddess... Go to the princess locked away in the castle. That princess holds the key that can unlock you from your shadow form..."

a. TO THE CASTLE.

[fusedshadows]

ooc ; decided extremely last minute to add prompts for ease of multiple threads intead!! sorry for the inconvenience...!

Laying on her stomach on the wolf's back, Midna reached out weakly, her eyes half-closed. Was someone there? Was she imagining things? The castle was somewhere in the distance that she couldn't see, though beneath her she could feel the wolf's movements.

b. THE PRINCESS' CHAMBER.

[fusedshadows]

They had finally made it. Though the heroes might wonder just what else was going to be thrown their way at this point, the wolf moved forward to nudge the chamber door open with his nose, pushing his way inside. With a shaking hand, Midna stretched out her fingers towards the cloaked figure at the window. "Pl... please..." she choked, causing the other woman to turn around. Although she was a stranger to these people, and her features mostly hidden by the shadows of her hood, those present would still have no trouble recognizing her.

It was Zelda.

doug's memory: what's been abandoned through memories of foliage

[mansome]

(splitting this in-between parts)

A: prologue

[mansome]

The leaves have already begun to change, signaling autumn’s arrival. Contrary to what you may have seen in past memories, this environment seems relatively peaceful, if seemingly remote from the sight of mountain tops in the distance. … It’s peaceful for now, anyway. Out in the field, one will find a redheaded young boy with a hammer, cheerfully chipping away at some ore. He looks no older than the age of ten.

“Heh heh. Maybe today, I’ll finally find some orichalcum. Or maybe even a Rune crystal. Wonder what Dad’ll say to that…” His response is oddly cheerful. Perhaps this wasn't a bad memory? Or so it would seem for now.

Anyone’s free to approach him. He’ll even respond back! But it won’t last for long…

B: massacre

[mansome]

The next moment, there’s a village. Or the remains of one, smoke still rising from some of the burned homes. Whatever screams were heard before, it’s now replaced with nothing but silence sans the empty sound of dried leaves blowing through the streets.

Blood painted the cobblestones, with corpses strewn and slumped in various places. Some are slumped over loved ones, in a futile effort to shield them. Others weren’t so lucky to even escape their homes, some of which were burned.

That same boy is found nearby one of the houses, silently on his knees as another body lies nearby: one of an adult man, his father. He’s silent. Unnaturally so. He doesn’t seem to be willing for much conversation, but it might be possible to get him to speak. What comes out may be awfully unsettling, however.

C: enemies or allies?

[mansome]

That isn’t to say the village is deserted. If one looks around or keeps their ears open, they may even hear another conversation from a couple of armored soldiers.

“Sir, what do we do with him?” It’s the sound of a man, wary as he addresses his superior.

“With who?” This time the voice is more gruff, stern. Perhaps even a hint of disregard.

“The dwarven boy.” The soldier’s voice is hushed, as if concerned the boy or anyone else may overhear at any point. His superior, on the other hand…

“Leave him - we don’t have time to be dealing with orphans.” It’s a blunt, dismissive response and the other soldier’s tone grows further wary at that as his voice rises.

“But sir, are you sure it’s all right to just leave him ali—“ He’s cut off before he can even finish.

“Look at him. He doesn’t know a thing. In any case, we got what we’ve came here for.”

In any case, they haven't noticed the presence of anyone else but the boy within the town. That may change if they do notice someone eavesdropping, or even barging right in on their conversation.

just a little argument - Genesis

[nodreamsorhonor]

Hollander had been running away from SOLDIER Zack Fair but he came to a stop as Genesis dropped down in front of him. The red SOLDIER had clearly seen better days, but was now in the midst of degrading - his hair turning white, the color faded from his skin and clothing, the sharp rash of air as he breathed. The only color that was left was the mako burning in his eyes, and it was a feverish glow made worse by the dark circles under his eyes.

But despite looking more and more like a corpse, Genesis' sword did not waver as he held it out towards Hollander, who was slowly backing away from the former SOLDIER.

"Genesis! What are you doing?"

Was it his natural inclination for dramatics or a weakness in his body that kept him from attacking? Genesis just kept on walking towards Hollander, and the scientist continued to talk as if it was going to save his life.

"You need me! Without me, who will stop your deterioration?!"

The old elevator moved and Zack came out of it, the younger man staring at the scene and trying to get the doors to open. Genesis sneered and then spoke, the rasp from his lungs sounding far more pronounced.

"JENOVA cells."

The doors opened and Zack sprang out, knocking away Genesis' sword. Hollander tried to make a break for it but a young trooper with a very familiar shock of bright blond hair grabbed the scientist. Zack called out to Cloud and Genesis snorted, bringing his sword up as he watched for his next opening. That came as Hollander - a heavy set man that outweighed Cloud by a lot - knocked the younger trooper to the ground. Genesis slashed at Zack and tried for Hollander, who duck behind Zack and his sword to keep Genesis at bay.

"You don't even know where JENOVA cells are stored. Even if you go after Hojo you don't know for certain if you will find them."

"If that's so, if I stay the way I am, I'll just rot away. However -" Genesis raised his sword, running his fingers across the edge, his lips twisting as if he had eaten a bitter fruit,. "- this world has lost it's path!"

He brought his sword down and Zack caught it on his. The two crossed blades and Zack grabbed Genesis' arm, sending Cloud after Hollander. Genesis broke Zack's grip and they started fighting. It was clear that while he was rotting, he hadn't lost any of his skills as he and Zack fought, though the younger SOLDIER was able to drive him back. It lasted for a moment as in mid-jump a wing sprouted from Genesis' shoulder, adding to his speed.

The memory then fades and Genesis as he is now in Crystallis was standing in the semi-darkness, his hand pressing against his head. There was already a touch of gray in his hair.

"This again?"

Re: just a little argument - Genesis

[neverfirstclass]

Cloud saw stars as he came into this memory onto to have an elbow driven into his nose. This pain was one that was familiar to him and certainly one he didn't want to relieve. Sure, other people may be reliving the worst moments of their lives in all of this, but getting elbowed in the face by a fat scientist wasn't that great either.

Cloud staggered to his feet, trying to chase after Hollander but then everything vanished and he found himself standing before the First Class. He'd remembered this, but he hadn't been sure he remembered it correctly. That's why he didn't bring it up to Genesis before. He certainly didn't remember much after the blow to the face.

But now the young trooper looked up at the red clad SOLDIER looking for...an explanation at least. "Genesis...sir...what's going on?"

[shinrasfinest]

Just like so many of the memories he'd visited thus far, it was only a matter of time before the events looped as if they needed to be played out over and over. A pair of arms were brought up and folded over his chest as Sephiroth looked over where Genesis were standing. He noted what looked to be the first touch of degradation present in Genesis' hair- but it wasn't like he hadn't seen it before.

Of course, they all had their own powers in this realm of memories so naturally the ailment that Genesis had back home had returned. He didn't know the scene though, even if he were aware of the assignment that Zack and Cloud had been sent on.

Neither did he know -just yet, as it would be the next memory that followed- that Genesis would come to seek him out for a means to end his rotting.

just a little argument - Genesis

[greenmagick]

JENOVA cells

She knew those words from Sephiroth's dream. Her eyes widened watching the conflict, unable to understand what was going on. Was Genesis dying? She stepped forward slightly but she knew she wouldn't be able to change anything. She's never been able to change anything.

As the dream faded she looking for Genesis finding the man she knew from Crystallis. The roommate she had caught falling asleep on top of his books. She had a lot of respect for him, he had the sort of wisdom that came with experiance.

"Genesis? You were dying?" Slowly rotting away? She was sure that someone would have helped him then. If he had asked for help. It didn't matter if they called him a monster. Monster didn't have to be something bad.

Rikku: "Yevon...did something really bad to us, before."

[victorix]

[ooc notes: Hold your cursor over the Al Bhed for translations.
for characters: Tidus.Lulu.Wakka.Kimahri.Auron.Rikku.]

OOC plotting

Al Bhed translator

Part A - Ajanouha ihtan!

[victorix]

          Part A - Ajanouha ihtan!
Ajanouha ihtan! Ajanouha ihtan! Ajanouha ihtan! Ajanouha ihtan! The words reverberate through the loudspeakers of Home as it lay under siege, punctuated by the ricochets of bullets. Violent explosions rock the structure, causing painful echoes that create clouds of dust from the desert sand. Bodies of the fallen lay contorted on the ground, goggles cover their eyes, making it impossible to tell where the dead stare.

Thick smoke furrows heavily into the air, burning the eyes and nose with the scent of metal. It lazily disperses into wisps of grey higher in the atmosphere, occasionally broken by flying fiends that swoop down in aerial attacks. Screeches join the clash of sounds while the Al Bhed try to fend them off with machine guns.

Rikku processes little of this, having fallen into a haze after watching her childhood friend die at the hands of the attacking Yevon force. She listens to her father, Cid, explain that the Guado are going after Yuna. Everything feels…far away. The fact that this has happened once before was immediately lost on the girl once she arrived in this land of hated memory.

Everyone but Rikku and Tidus run ahead, the bitzer turns to the youngest guardian, “Let’s go!”

“Yeah…we have to save Yunie.”

“Not only Yuna, right?”

Even in the middle of this chaos, Tidus has a way about making things seem like they were going to be ok. It was enough to help Rikku pull herself together. Yunie needed her, her people did too!

“Right!”

ou!YUNA: THE PALACE OF ST. BEVELLE.

[grandsummon]

          The bells rung loudly to signify the beginning of the celebration, as from each side of the cathedral bride and groom walk with their entourage of escorts, meeting in the middle. Those in attendance are all armed to the teeth, forbidden machina, just the sort the teachings forbade, clenched tightly in the hands of the faithful -- they were expecting a disturbance, from the looks of it.

ooc notes! ; yuna is likely to mistake the first five visitors as her various guardians from spira. multiple threads will be the way to go here, but i can work with whatever! this scene takes place from the start to 10:25 of the fmv found here for a better visual! the memory is completely interactive and further ooc notes are over here.

CLIMBING THE STEPS.

[grandsummon]

          The sun was bright that day, she remembered. But stepping out into it did nothing to relieve the chills Yuna felt. Each chime those bells made deepened the hollowed out feeling she had in her stomach as she looked over, her expression blank, to watch as Seymour advanced to the centre, the same as she. Forward, she turned, and kept walking -- the pilgrimage, her capture, the war... it had always been about moving forward.

She'd underestimated he number of guards that were in attendance, almost as badly as she had underestimated the use of machina. But there wasn't much of an opportunity to worry about that, as she walked down the aisle now, side by side with the guado maester. The priests around them bowed in prayer and she looked up, ascending the stairs to the altar where they would be joined. Her heart beat louder and faster with each step she took, it was hard to imagine that it wasn't about to just burst from her chest. Her face betrayed no sign of that uncertainty however, except for a slight flicker in her eyes as they climbed.

And from above -- a cloud of pyreflies sang their unearthly wails, catching her attention. What could have caused...? But one of the heavily robed priests was already reacting to whatever had happened, waving an arm as guards took their positions. "Fire!" she heard Maester Kinoc cry, then a hail of bullets and blasts. "Come!" Seymour ordered, taking hold of her and pulling her to the top.

When she looked up, the sight of the large machina in the sky would have been a shock to anyone -- but somehow... she knew what it meant. The gust of wind it created as it swung in close lifted the veil on her head up and away, cables with what looked like anchors shooting outwards into the great stone floor of the palace, and down them -- six figures in the distance.

the scar | passive -- kenshin himura

[hiddenedges]

Trees drip onto the clearing and four men laid on the ground, their bodies broken by vicious cuts to guts and heads. A fifth stood panting to one side, his hair a deep red in color, blood splattering his face and his clothing, his sword clotted with gore. One slender hand was pressed against a slash at his side before, he took a deep breath and crouch, the stance bringing his sword to the ready. Across from him was an older man looking fresher than the swordsman, his arms wrapped with heavy leather straps and his hair pulled up in what was a true samurai's knot. A little to the side were two unarmed people, one a young boy about ten another a woman dressed in exquisite silks, her hands covered in sleeves decorated with flowers pressed against her lips.

The older man taunts the young swordsman, calling him many things chief among them being murderer and demon and dog. The swordsman doesn't listen as he kept his sword steady, watching the older samurai for any break in his guard. And then came the last words, of how that this was his punishment for the murder of Tomoe's first lover, the man the young swordsman had replaced. He tensed, looking over at the woman and saw her tears.

Was it anger or was it guilt that had him throw himself at the older man? It was hard to tell in the dark as the two figures were suddenly locking weapons and exchanging blows. Smaller than his opponent, the young swordsman was tossed back and he caught himself in the mud, leveled himself up and threw himself back into the path of the older man's sword. A sword the man was not swinging because of the woman who was in his way, her hand gripping his wrist.

Kenshin could not stop his sword from moving in that final swing. His blade went through her, bit deep into the old man's shoulder as well, and he left it there as he caught her before she fell to the ground. She had a dagger in her hand and she brought it up to his face, cutting across the scar already there, making an X before telling him to live.

The memory faded and Kenshin - older, carrying a sword that could not kill unless he had to - stared into the darkness before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Tomoe."

the scar | passive -- kenshin himura

[thegreatninja]

"Ken-kun?"

Yuffie's voice was quiet as she looked up at her friend. Their relationship had been odd; meeting in prison and then her stopping by unannounced usually to swipe food. She kept her gaze on him after the scene faded. She couldn't help but wonder if it was going to repeat. If it was like her own memory.

She was used to death and battle. It didn't bother her so much anymore and yet she watched the cut that scared Kenshin's face be formed. She watched the woman somehow knowing that she was important to him in a way that has left him hurting.

Robin's Memory

[tacticallyminded]

[After some zombie and Validar fighting, there will be SADNESS and the more fixed/passive part of the memory!]

In the next moment, as the next memory began, there was a sudden darkness. The Dragon's Table was never the best lit place. The inside of the ancient stone temple was dark and dank, the sort of terrible place that stories spoke of. The only source of light came from flickering torches on the walls -- and from the glowing yet dull red eyes of the Risen ahead.

A little less than a dozen of them formed a half circle around a tall, gaunt man wearing dark violet and black robes. Validar's face was a hateful glower; even now, the crackle of black energy around him held a deadly promise. His skin was ashen, stained by his association in the past few years.

Those who appeared did so on the far side of the room. The Risen -- terrible undead creatures, flesh returned to unlife, and carrying various battered weapons -- stood between them. Robin's eyes widened; this was like, but not entirely the same as, a memory she had a few hundred times before. The memory was a premonition -- or maybe just a nightmare.

She turned, stunned, and knew who she would find standing with the others.

Chrom, wearing the same garb as he always did and holding Falchion in hand, turned to look at Robin. He flashed a smile at her and nodded, before looking back at the Risen and the large, glowing circle on the ground. "This is it! Our final battle!" he called out. Robin's heart sank as she heard it. "You're one of us, Robin, and no 'destiny' can change that. Now let's kill this dastard and be done with it!"

She knew what came next in her dream. She knew what followed. Her heart sank, but still, she managed a nervous: "R...right."

She never had people here to see it before.

[umslay]

Ales found himself in another dark room, but judging from the stone walls and torches, someplace ancient. He stumbled behind Robin, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness when he heard evil laughter from up ahead. Sure enough, a tall, sinister man standing there, surrounded by monsters with glowing eyes.

He could say one thing about the man's style: he made his intentions very clear.

"...Robin!" Ales whispered, only to be interrupted by Chrom. They were...going to fight them? Non-memory entities included?

He jumped as the group of Risen began lumbering towards the group. "Wait! How do we fight these?" He turned to the nearest person. "I don't have any weapons or powers on me!"

Henry's Memory (CW: Blood, Dying)

[holycrows]

Henry stands in the darkness, lit by the pale moon, dressed in his plegian black mage clothes rather than his normal purple armor. He looks somewhat worried, not overly emotional but less cheerful than his normal demeanor.

A few feet away a small white haired boy is covered in blood, crying and clutching the limp body of a wolf nearly twice the size of a normal wolf. It is filled with arrows. A man lay nearby, moaning, his back torn and bloodied. There is shouting in the distance for someone to get help. Torches lite a number of small huts busy with activity.

The boy sniffles and stands, turning to the injured man. He walks over and stares hard. A faint purple aura surrounds the boy, and the man begins to choke, then scream, and, with a liquidly gurgle, stops.

The boy turns towards the village and begins walking as people approach 'He was over here!'

[red_planet_blues]

When he first shows up in this memory, Sparks grumbles. "Another one? C'mon already." He was getting tired of these displays, but was secretly glad that so far, no one's dipped into his own memories.

After looking around for a moment, he notices Henry standing and watching what looked to be his younger self slays a man with some sort of spell.

"Aw geez. This ain't gonna be pretty, huh."

Albel's Memory - Mixed

[wickedone]

A chill wind blew throughout the stone-built city, a slight dusting of snow upon the ground. Airyglyph. Though from the way the bells tolled combined with the otherwise silent crowds, it was easy to see something was off. Everything, and everyone, was cast in black.

The city was in mourning.

Albel stood, rooted to the spot and staring unseeing at the street. The bodies beside him might as well have been trees for all the attention and recognition he gave them. People he'd known all his life, ignored. Everything numb. Even the throbbing, burning pain in his arm seemed far away, like it wasn't even his own.

His arm -- it was gone, and no gauntlet in sight. A simple bandage was wrapped about the upper stump that was left, and even though it was fresh a slight discoloration could already be seen forming. As the funeral bells echoed throughout the streets and the procession slowly approached, the man clutched at the cloak about his shoulders and grit his teeth before turning and pushing his way through the crowd as best he could. He couldn't take this anymore.

Albel's Memory - Mixed

[goddessofthesky]

Zelda wasn't sure who's world she had stepped into. The world around her was dark and gray without the grace of light to brighten the day. Her bright blue gaze moved along the crowd and while she was also clad in black the bright gold of her hair looked very out of place among the mourners.

She caught sight of the familiar hero and stepped up next to him. She said nothing knowing that he'd have seen her movements. She wanted to ask if he was okay but they've only met once before. It wasn't really her place to know.

Zelda looked up at Albel her expression a mixture of sadness and worry.

Crystal Before Becoming A Hero of Light - Link's Memory: Passive

[unitesearthandsky]

Elegantly carved stone, now covered in moss and growth, sprawls around the new location as it forms within the memories of the young man from the floating island of Skyloft. The shrine where he stands gives off a strange sense of comfort, the sort of security and safety that came from being in the presence of trusted friends and family. Like an invisible embrace, the Forest Temple is more than just a Sanctuary; it is a place of light and hope. Under normal circumstances, Link would be basking in the rush of comfort and security, but his time in the Temple requires urgency. Not but an hour ago, Link had watched his childhood friend disappear into a large looking cog. It's center led elsewhere while the dimensions of it were limited to normal measurements of depth. The passage which Zelda had taken with the lithe stranger that accompanied her was a portal of sorts, transporting them to the shared cog which resided in the Forest Temple where he now stands. For some one who is notorious for sleeping in, at least Link's memory serves him well to remember the other part of the pair.

His boots landed with gentle steps on the small stairwell that led up into the Central Chamber of the shrine. Past the lifeless cog he'd remembered, in the distance he can see the figure dressed in white. The mixture of gold against pearl, the radiant beauty of the young woman he'd been searching for, now standing just but a mere yard away from him. No longer could he walk with patience movements, hurrying to run at her while coming to an almost screeching halt just a foot or so away from her. So much of him wanted to reach out and hold her, toss aside any sort reluctant and bashful feelings, if only to confirm that the person standing before him was in fact real.

"Zelda? Is.. Is that really you?"

He'd had expected at least a smile from his friend, but unfortunately there is anything but happiness in the face of the Chief's daughter.

"You've come so far, Link. I'm glad you've made it.."
"I'm here now, Zelda. I've been looking all over for y-"
"I know. Link, please."
"We can go back to Skyloft now, right?"
"Link, I've got something to say."
"It can wait, right? Come on! We can make our way back up t-"
"Link!"

He'd been so excited to see her again that their conversation was layered in interruptions and unfinished thoughts, least until Zelda shouts his name.

Zelda's head hangs as if she's lost all life in her skull, only lifting it up after she's taken in a deep drag of air.

"We.. We can't go back to Skyloft. Impa would tell you, but we've been on a long journey.. to the past."

The Hero's eyes widen, as if the words coming from Zelda's mouth are too impossible to believe.

"Those fairy tales from when we were young, about the great war, are all true. The scars which Demise had caused that are only now appearing in our time are too deep to fix here. Impa and I have been traveling in the past to right what damage has been done. You no doubt have a lot a questions, so I will try to explain as best as I can.

Long ago, the Old Gods who give life to this world created a supreme power that gave anyone who possessed it the power to shape reality and fulfill any desire. They called this power.. The Triforce. In his thirst to make this world his own, Demise readied himself a powerful army of monsters and beasts at his command so as to take the Triforce for his own by force. The Goddess Hylia feared for both her land and her people. In a last attempt to try and save both, she sliced a part of Hyrule that carried her people and the Triforce into the sky. We know that land as our home; Skyloft.

After a long and difficult battle, the Goddess Hylia was able to seal away Demise with her power. However, not long after the Demon King's imprisonment, it became clear to Hylia that the seal would not last for very long. Greatly injured, the Goddess knew that if the seal were to break, she would have no chance of fighting against Demise upon his return. If he were to free himself, it would mean the end of all life in this world. In order to put an end to the evil King, Hylia set two separate plans into motion..

First, she created Fi. She made the spirit of the sword which you now carry as an assistant to her Chosen Hero to aide him on his mission."

Zelda begins to walk away from Link, making her way down a few stairs as she looks off towards the distance down the length of the expansive temple. At her last step she turns around to see Link following, meeting his gaze after he's come closer to her.

"The second.. was for her to abandon her divine form and transfer her soul to the body of a mortal. She made this sacrifice, as you may have guessed, so that the supreme power of the Old Gods could be used again one day. For while the supreme power of the Triforce was created by the Gods, all of its power can never be wielded by one. Knowing this power was her last and only hope, the Goddess gave up her divine powers and her immortal form."

Link can only blink and hang his mouth open in bewilderment, the awe of her words causing him to seize up as he tries to process what she had been saying, and what he is sure she is going to say next.

"You've probably already figured it out by this point, haven't you, Link? You. You are the Chosen Hero. And I, Zelda.. I am the reincarnation of the Goddess Hylia."

Years of running around Skyloft, days spent among flowers and pumpkins, the numerous fights and spats and fits of laughter and tears, all of it seemed so insignificant now. Now knowing that his friend, all along, had been the Goddess for which they'd worshiped and read about, the praise and songs dedicated to her, the prayers offered during the Festival. Some how, in the furthest depth of his mind, Link always knew that there was something special about Zelda. Could this have been why?

"Link.. My journey has taken me from temple to temple, traveling with Impa to see that Demise is stopped and kept from devouring this land with his power. In order to do so, we must do whatever it takes. That's why.."

Her voice hitches, hesitation filling the silence while she struggles to explain herself.

"That is why I must remain here in this time.. in this place.. to sustain the seal as best as I can."

Link reaches a hand out to try and hold tightly to Zelda's hand.

"No! You can't do that! We don't belong here, Zelda! We have to go back to our time! Your Father needs you, Skyloft needs you, I-"

He matches her hesitation, fighting to say what he wishes to say as the volume of his voice drops.

"I.. I need you, Zelda."
"Link, you know this is the only way. I must-.. I must keep up my vigil so that my Ftaher, Skyloft, and you remain safe and free from the rise of Demise in our time."

His hold on her loosens for a moment, his body drawing back as he's struck cold with surprise. It chills his spine, makes his body tense up, and leaves his jaw practically shattering on the floor.

"But.. If you remain here th-.. then, in our time.."

Her eyes become bolder, her resolve showing through the glimmer of blue that encircles her irises.

"I've made my choice, Link. With the memories of my former life returning to me, I know now that this is my purpose. With Fi being created and the part of me that resides in the blade you hold, it is clear what your purpose is. For the task of standing against the monstrous form that Demise now assumes rests solely on your shoulders. I can only do so much, Link. But you.. You can defeat Demise so long as I remain here. Back in our own time, you've already driven him back into his prison twice now. I cannot thank you enough for doing that."

The former Goddess lifts a hand to caress the side of her friend's face, admiring and looking past his eyes to see just how much he has changed in the short time that they've been separated.

"You've grown so much since I first was taken from Skyloft, Link. You've learned wisdom through the many devious puzzles and traps that you've solved. You've gained power by honing and tempering both yourself and your blade. And by overcoming the trails set before you by the Goddess, you've found true courage. Now that those qualities reside inside you, you are now worthy to harness the power that the Old Gods left behind for our kind. You can claim the Triforce."

There's a reluctant look upon Link's face as she touches him. The words she speaks with seem to do more than fill him with confidence or hope. Rather, he feels as if each compliment and observation is like a weight placed upon his shoulders.

"But.. I only did this to come after you. I'm.. I'm not courageous. I was just doing what was right. I was doing what I wanted to do."

His friend can only smile. A soft turn of her lips as she looks to the Chosen Hero with fondness and adoration.

"And that is what makes you my Hero."

Her hand wipes away from his cheek, holding it out for him to take. Link stares at her open palm for a moment, just before coming to a single knee and taking her hand into his own.

"Valiant hero, you have endured many hardships to reach this point in your journey. As a show of thanks, I grant to you the power of the Goddess. May it forge with your blade and aide you on the last leg of your mission."

It all unfolds so suddenly. The aura which surrounds the pair is blinding, a flash of embodied light that swells and surges between them before rising above them like a Sun at midday. Standing, Link draws the sword from the sheath on his back, holding it up so that it can bathe in the power she so selflessly bestows upon it. Like flares and fireworks, the light divides and courses from the sword on high, absorbing into the blessed steel and tempering it with a radiant power. Once the light subsides, the Chosen Hero swings the sword to feel its weightlessness and strength.

While preoccupied by the new power granted to him, Zelda turns and begins to walk back toward the creeping sunlight which falls upon the floor behind her. Standing in the small rays, she turns back around to watch Link as his curiosity keeps him focused on the sword.

"Before I say anything else, Link, I.. I must apologize to you."

Her voice catches his attention, his eyes coming back to look upon her as she shines within the sunlight.

"I.. I used you. It's my fault that you are involved in this. Hylia.. I mean.. I.. I knew that if Zelda were to ever be in any sort of danger, that you would leap headfirst into any danger without a moment of doubt. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for getting you involved in all of this. But you have to understand that this is a war, and I need your strength to tip the scales in our favor."

She turns away for a moment, keeping silent as her arms noticeably fidget while she stands in thought.

"All of that may be well intentioned and true, but that does not excuse any of my actions. But I'm prepared to pay the price for what I've done."

Link stares upon her, confused as to the cause for an apology. He had never faulted her or thought her anything other than the most remarkable, the most precious, and the most caring person her knew. There was no need for apologies, but before he can offer a reply, the young woman turns around to bare her tears to him. Heavy streams begin to fall from her eyes as she clasps her hands against her chest.

"To.. To ensure that the seal holds, I will remain here. Deep in sleep. For thousands of years.. Link.. I can't say it enough. How sorry I am for having to get you involved in all of this. But until my memory of things before our lifetime came back to me, I had no idea we were fated to carry such a heavy destiny. Before all this, I was happy just spending my days hanging around you in Skyloft. I.. wanted that feeling to last forever."

A brilliant shine begins to glow around her, a pillar of orange and yellow courses upwards and extends into the scattered openings of crumbled ceiling above. Frantically, Link runs closer towards Zelda, closing what little distance is between them and finding that even with the short sprint he is too late. He comes to the transparent walls that now surround her, slamming his clenched fists upon the structure to try and break her free from the self-inflicted prison.

"Zelda!! S-Stop! You don't have to do this!! I.. I can fight Demise! I can defeat him! I can defeat him so you don't have to stay here and worry about the seal!"

Her figure in the encasement is a dark outline, somewhat visible to him through the amber-colored magic that begins to cover her.

"I know you can defeat him, Link. But I must.. I must do this. While it's true that I am Hylia reborn, I am still my Father's daughter and your.. friend. I'm still your Zelda."

His hands slam against the shell with greater strength, his voice echoing about the vacant rooms of the once prosperous temple.

"ZELDA! STOP! PLEASE! I'M BEGGING YOU!! I.. I CAN BE A BETTER HERO!! I CAN MAKE IT SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS!!"

Through the magic, he can see her smile softly. Even when things were at their worst, Zelda had always been there to be warm, to comfort those with tears in their eyes, and to help inspire when there was little hope left. She is the person who she claims to be, and seeing her in this way causes Link's panic to subside as his hands slide down the front of the crystal formation surrounding her.

"When Demise has been defeated, there will no longer be a need for a seal, and I will wake up. So.. I'm going to ask you a favor, Sleepyhead. Ever since we were kids, I've always been the one to wake you up when you slept in. But this time, when this is all over, will.. will you come to wake me up?"

A final burst of light radiates from the crystal, causing Link to cover his eyes as he lifts his hands to shield them from the growing glow. When he finally feels the heat of the spell subside, Link opens his eyes to see his friend trapped inside the floating crystal, looking as if she had been laid to rest for eternity. The peaceful look on her face, the subtle smile upon her lips, the young man from Skyloft can only focus on the guilt he feels inside of his stomach.

He drops to his knees, putting a hand to the magical tomb that keeps Zelda sealed, his eyes jamming shut to fight back the urge for tears. He knew what needed to be done, but it was hard to focus on one matter when his everything was now locked away in an unbreakable spell.

Crystal Before Becoming A Hero of Light - Link's Memory: Passive

[goddessofthesky]

Zelda knew this place the moment the temple formed around her. She stayed back, hiding from herself and her hero as she watched the familiar scene play out. She had finally been able to tell Link everything. Her hand rested over her heart at the proceedings and she felt the pain like it was new. This was the last thing she remembered before waking up in Crystallis.

when she met up with Link in again he didn't know. He hadn't made it this far in his journey. She felt tears in her eyes as she watched the proceedings. She couldn't tell if the Link in front of her was the same man she lived with in Crystallis. She wanted to reach forward, to say something but she knew that there wasn't anything that could change the truth.

This was her tomb until he woke her up.

Her palms covered her eyes to stop her tears from falling. She didn't want Link to see this. Not yet. They were finally able to be happy.

"I'm so sorry Link. I'm sorry for everything that I've done to you and I'm sorry for pretending that everything was okay."

All that time in Crystallis she could have told him the truth but she needed him to move forward. She needed him to follow her, come save her and be used by her. It was a secret she had kept with her all this time and even now the pain in her chest felt new.

It was what she had to do. She had to stop the darkness.

Lady of the Vortex - passive

[unyieldingspirit]

The Enterprise rattled on its way through the vortex Garuda had summoned up, but held. K’pandolu held onto one side all the same, all attention on their destination. Within the winds, they found little opposition, and the airship landed gently, everyone taking a moment to settle themselves before stepping off. Within the tempest, there was no trace of the snow that covered the rest of Coerthas, for better or worse. The grass crunched beneath K'pandolu’s feet as she made for Garuda, Cid nan Garlond and Alphinaud behind her.

The primal hovered in the air above them, facing away, but no less aware. She seemed to be humanoid, but with talons and strangely shaped feet- and most notable of all, wings sprouting from her head and back. "Who dares intrude upon my sanctuary!? Your insolence shall not go unpunished, landwalkers!"

Alphinaud shifted, expression tightening. "Twelve preserve… she's… she's huge!"

"As I live and breathe…" Cid stared at the primal, then spotted something out of the corner of his eye and turned to look. "Over there- look." Behind the Ixal were Kobolds and Amalj'aa, bound and tied to posts. "Amalj'aa and kobold prisoners. But why would the Ixal bring them here…?"

Before any of them could think on an answer, Garuda broke out into laughter, and K’pandolu looked back, watching for a sign of what might come her way. "Wherefore come you hither, foolish mortals?"

Alphinaud made to step forward. "Garuda! We are come to put an end to your reign of terror!"

"Hear you this blasphemy, my children? These landwalkers would bring me low!" Garuda's gaze shifted to the Ixal as she spoke, and then returned to the group. "You who are bound to crawl upon the earth should revere me- FOR I AM THE WIND!"

K'pandolu took a step forward, the beginning of a growl in her throat. Cid matched her step, fists closed. "Did we not take to the skies, and slip your defenses!? We are bound by nothing, Garuda!"

Garuda laughed, arms extended. "You think your playthings give you strength? They will not help you here, landwalker. This is my realm, where none can shake my supremacy. Struggle though you may- I shall slake the roots with your blood, and festoon the canopy with your ENTRAILS!"

Encouraged by their deity's words, the Ixal chieftain raised his sword with a squawk. "Slay the unfeathered ones, we shall! As an offering to Garuda, they shall serve!"

Cid moved towards the group of Ixal, glancing back at K’pandolu for a moment as Alphinaud followed. “Leave the Ixal to us! We will keep them distracted while you deal with her!"

Alphinaud added, "Do not fail! Remember: you fight for the Scions! For Eorzea!"

K'pandolu nodded. "Be sure to look to yourselves, Alphinaud, Cid," she said, eyes fierce, and turned to face Garuda, unsheathing her weapons.

"This worm would die by mine own hand! Come, then… I shall grant you that which you seek!" Garuda rose, the winds roaring and settling at the primal's command, creating a clear area for a time.

K'pandolu set upon the attack immediately, but Garuda was no easy opponent. The strength of her cries was enough to damage the rocks, and her plumes seemed to have a mind their own, destroying those protections even apart from their mistress.

They managed to force her down all the same, Cid and Alphinaud rejoining the group as Garuda cried out. Then Garuda cried out again- this time more strongly, her wings outstretched, shocking the group.

"What!? How in the hells-!?" Cid began, but Garuda's laugh interrupted him.

"This… is… MY REALM! You have no hope here! None! NONNNE!!! Did you truly think you could defy a god, landwalkers?" She unleashed a burst of power, and K'pandolu and the others made to protect themselves from it. They braced for another, but to their great fortune Garuda chose to exult instead, sweeping her arms out. Around her swirled energy, power given to her by the prayers of the Ixal. "My power is limitless! My children legion! And they have rendered unto me a wealth of crystals. Their gifts sustain me, their faith empowers me! None save my children will escape the reckoning, mortals! And those who would use my crystals to waken the rest shall realise the folly of their faith! Then all shall worship none but me! The one true god!"

K'pandolu, Cid and Alphinaud looked at each other. "Of course! Worship!" Alphinaud said. "So long as the Ixal keep praying, she will never fall!"

Cid nodded. "Then let's stop them!" The two of them made for the Ixal group, but Garuda unleashed another blast before they reached the group, sending them sprawling.

"No harm will come to you, my children!" she laughed, then turned to K'pandolu, who had again taken up an aggressive stance. "This is only the beginning, landwalkers! All who oppose my shall suffer for their defiance! Soon, the worms of the forest shall receive my judgement! The desert vermin next- their walls of stone will not shield them from the tempest! And then will I take vengeance on the sea lice! Their wooden boats cannot outrun the wind!" K'pandolu started, shifting her weight further forward, but Garuda carried on uncaring. "Tremble, mortals, for I shall visit you all in time! And all shall be mine! All MIIINE!!" Now, she focused her attention squarely on K'pandolu. "You, landwalker- you who dared to raise your hand against me- you shall be the first to pay for your sins! Not with your death- but with your LIFE! You will serve me, landwalker… to your last breath!"

Garuda gathered her power, and unleashed a vortex centered on K'pandolu, burning a bright blue- a sign the primal was attempting to temper the soul within. Garuda watched, her expression gradually fading into dismay. Something had gone awry, as the vortex left K’pandolu unscathed. "No, NO!!! I claimed you! You should be MINE! "

K’pandolu snorted, a light glow surrounding her, and looked up at Garuda. "No," she said, slowly and deliberately, and pushed forward, the power around her pulsing out to strike Garuda. Garuda brought her arms up, attempting to protect herself, but the light struck true and Garuda fell backwards, arms and wings falling back. A moment later a green crystal rose from her chest. K’pandolu reached out and the crystal came to her hands, engulfed a moment later by a light from within her.

Above, Garuda struggled back upright, no longer suffused by the light of Ixali prayer. She held one arm across her body, wings struggling. "What… what are you? What have you done to me? No mortal should possess such power! This… this is impossible!"

K’pandolu raised her hands in a shrug as Alphinaud and Cid rejoined her. "Yet it has been done, Garuda. Accept your defeat."

Garuda hissed, talons twitching. "Why do you not tremble at my might? Why do you not beg for mercy? Why do you not DIE!?"

"We’ve done it!" Alphinaud exclaimed, stance widening, not quite celebratory but approaching it.

The Ixal were certainly discomforted by the situation, for one, looking about for answers, but K'pandolu was relieved, turning to Cid with a smile. She froze in place as another voice broke in- modulated, as if speaking from behind a mask.

"Is that all!?"

The group turned quickly, and K'pandolu's fears were confirmed- Gaius van Baelsar indeed stood before them.

Van Baelsar held his arm out, towards Garuda. "O Lady of the Vortex! O mighty Garuda!" Arm down, he continued. "Of all primals, the most terrible. I say again… IS- THAT- ALL!?"

"When did he…?" K'pandolu breathed, discomforted.

"Gaius!" Cid exclaimed.

"Ah, Cid, my boy. You look well- for one who has forsaken kin and country. I wonder, what else you will forsake before the day is done."

"What!?" Cid appeared as bewildered as K'pandolu and Alphinaud, felt.

"What exactly did you hope to accomplish here this day?"

"I…"

Gaius extended his arm once more. "Well, I shall accomplish far more!"

The Ixal, sensing a threat, raced forward to attack van Baelsar, but van Baelsar swiftly took them out with shots from his gauntlet.

Incensed, Garuda spoke again. "…Is that all? IS THAT ALL!? Insolent mortal! I shall make you suffer!" Her attention shifted slightly, to K’pandolu. "That foul stench… I see now… She has touched you! Very well…" She raised her hands, gathering power.

K'pandolu switched her attention back to Garuda, her hands on her weapons. Cid was the one to voice the group's thoughts, though. "Seven hells! Does she still mean to fight?"

A moment later, Garuda released her vortexes- on the captured Amalj'aa and Kobolds, who cried out in pain.

"O Lord of the Inferno! Almighty Ifrit! Grant us succor in our hour of need!"

"Save us, Titan, Lord of Crags! It hurts us so, the pain, the pain…"

Bewildered, K’pandolu stared. Alphinaud caught on a little more quickly, though. "Twelve preserve, she cannot mean to-"

Tested beyond endurance, the Amalj'aa and Kobolds collapsed, their aether shining brightly as it rose upwards. The aether from the Amalj'aa gathered and burst like the lighting of a star, calling forth Ifrit, and the aether of the Kobolds gathered to solidify rock, bringing down Titan. The three primals faced each other, ignoring the smaller mortals.

"No… no, this is all wrong…" Alphinaud stumbled back, eyes wide and scanning the scene.

Cid stepped towards him, resolution found. "Stop gawping, boy! We must run!"

With one last glance at the primals, Alphinaud nodded, and they ran for the Enterprise. Cid went for the controls, taking the airship up, and Alphinaud and K'pandolu made to watch from the side of the airship, K'pandolu's tail curling uneasily.

Garuda spoke, wings twitching. “Surrender yourselves unto me… I would feed upon your aether. None shall stand against the wind!”

Ifrit and Titan seemed reluctant to agree, but K’pandolu’s attention was drawn away by something in the sky above them. She frowned, squinting to try and improve her sight. Garlean airships, carrying something…? "What is that?" she murmured.

Alphinaud followed her gaze, and frowned. "I wonder. Some new device…?"

On the ground, van Baelsar raised his arm. "Bear witness to the glory of the Empire!"

On his signal, the airships released their cargo- the Ultima Weapon, unfolding itself as it plummeted, almost on top of Ifrit. The primal jumped back, but the Weapon followed swiftly, seizing one of Ifrit’s horns. The primal screeched, attempting to claw at the Weapon, but after a few moments its movements weakened. Its arms fell, and a moment later Ifrit burst into its aetherial components, which the Ultima Weapon absorbed, glowing with the primal's power.

Seeing the opponent, Titan made to punch the Weapon, but the Weapon caught Titan’s fist and lifted Titan up. With its other hand, the Weapon seized Titan’s body and lifted it up, dispelling the primal’s form and absorbing the aether from it.

This left only Garuda, who shrank back ever so slightly as the Ultima Weapon turned towards her.

Gaius van Baelsar stood beside the Weapon, seemingly unruffled by the events. "It is you who will suffer, Garuda! Ancient Allag had ways of dealing with your kind. Now, look upon their ultimate weapon, eikon, and despair!"

The Weapon struck out for Garuda, but she leapt, evading its first strike. However, the Weapon reacted swiftly, catching Garuda in midair, landing a moment later.

"No… Nooo! NOOO!" Within the Weapon’s grasp, Garuda struggled, but to no avail as the Weapon leant forward and consumed her.

"Magnificent! It exceeds all expectations!" Gaius proclaimed.

Now with the power of three primals, the Weapon seemed- alive, almost, arms and body moving as is signifying breath. K'pandolu stepped back, ears flattening.

A voice came from above, and she looked up- to one of the Garlean airships. Someone stood there, cloaked in black. The Ascian? She strained her ears, trying to hear.

"With each primal it consumes, it grows more powerful. A marvel, is it not?"

Gaius van Baelsar held out a hand. "Such is the fate of those who oppose the Empire!" The Weapon put down its hand, and he stepped onto it, rising up. “There will be no Warriors of Light to save you this time. If your leaders are as wise as they are reported, they will surrender. Your skills are impressive, but they will not be enough.”

K'pandolu made a soft angry noise, moving forwards again- but then she saw the Weapon's hand rising. "What-!?"

Without further warning, the Weapon released a burst of power, and K'pandolu brought her arms up to defend herself. Even with the makeshift shielding to protect them from Garuda's winds, the Enterprise shuddered, and some of the power of the attack hit, sending K'pandolu and the others rolling.

She regained control of herself after a few moments, and rushed to the side of the Enterprise, just in time to watch the Ultima Weapon flying away. She let out a hiss, and turned around, fear striking her a moment later as she saw the others lying there, unconscious. "Cid! Alphinaud!" She moved quickly to Cid's side, falling to her knees beside him as she reached for his hand. "Not you too…"

A moment's observation showed that the two of them were still breathing, but K'pandolu was clearly rattled, holding onto them tightly even as the winds began to shift.