Event || The Night of the Thirteen Moogles

[melodiesmods]

Characters: Everyone!
Where: Aqures Ixen (Old Observatory, others).
When: Night from the 31st of October to the 01st of November.
Summary: Midnight is approaching, ghosts are everywhere and clouds are slowly gathering above the old observatory... What does it all mean? This post is open to all characters, there are no sign-ups for this.
Warning: The destructor has come.

Mingle || Before Midnight
Confrontation || Midnight
The Cursed Heroes
King Moggle Mog XIV

Comments

[acceptedoblivion]

[When Ven is hit, Ira refuses to cringe. This was not the time or place for sentiment, only survival. This was not the time to let someone with no will to fight. Especially one that was so injured.

Ira casts Blind once more before sheathing his sword and jumping out of the way of Sora's Sliding Dash. He remembered this attack pattern; he'd faced it several times. Like this he may just have a shot, but Ven... Ven had little chance if whatever was controlling Sora's body decided he was too hard a target to keep aiming for. He dodges once, twice, and leaps out of the way of a Ragnarok. He had to keep moving or they would both be doomed.]

Go, now! If you can stand, run and don't look back!

[The battle for the Crystal of Fire was raging behind him, and the hospital in sight. Ven was between both; and if Ven could move, he could find help with the other heroes. Making sure they both survived was his priority over simply keeping Sora's body in check.

Starved for mana after two attempts to hit the illusive replica, Sora turns toward the injured Ventus again. Yet instead of striking Ven with another Strike Raid, it stops short as Ira suddenly lands on top of the zombified Hero, blade missing his nose by half an inch as he tried to keep Sora restrained.]

I'll follow! [It was a promise, but with what was happening, he wasn't likely going to keep it.]

[makingfriends]

[In the wake of that attack, it felt like Ven had been thrown full force into a brick wall. Everything hurt, catching his breath was far too difficult, and simply standing up took way longer than it should have. He managed, using his Keyblade partially as a crutch; his face had met the street more than once during that tumble, leaving him with a number of open scrapes and scratches, and he could feel blood trickling down the back of his neck. The tears in his armor were nearly skindeep, and he'd lost one spaulder in there somewhere.

Something was definitely magnifying Sora's powers. Ragnarok was a strong move, no doubt, but not like that.]

N-No way! We'll both go!

[He didn't stop to think how that would be possible; there was just no way he could leave Ira to face this -- and probably die -- alone.]

You're no match for him like this!

[acceptedoblivion]

[If there was one thing about goody two shoes he had grown to both admire and despise after a year of (by all appearances) siding with Ganondorf, it was moments like these. He admired their tenacity and lack of emotional fortitude to run from the face of insurmountable odds, despite the threat of death. Yet now, he could only show his outrage at the idea. Ira struggles to keep Sora restrained as he points out the obvious speaks:]

Look at yourself, Ven - you can barely stand. And when I let go? He's going to charge at you again.

[One thing is clear: The longer they take arguing about this, the less likely it becomes that they both survive.]

Do you trust me?

[makingfriends]

[On some level, Ven was already aware of both the futility and stupidity in staying. Lacking the will to fight or being badly injured was bad enough; as both, he was nothing more than a target for Sora and a hindrance for Ira. If Ven stuck around, Ira couldn't fight to the fullest -- not if he was busy watching him.

just like Terra

Ven hadn't been strong enough -- or willing enough -- to stand up against the Master and Terra had stepped in and Eraqus had died and if something like that happened again if someone died because he ran when he could have made a difference

if either of them died--]

I do, but...!

[Even if it was logical, even if his past wasn't coming back to haunt him full force right then, the idea of abandoning anyone -- especially a friend -- tore and screamed at everything Ven believed in and stood for. Turning and running was, in that moment, as physically difficult for him as it was emotionally.]

[acceptedoblivion]

[At this point, it's taking all of Ira's concentration to not let go of Sora. The amount of strength he has now is nearly overwhelming the replica's determination to see at least one of them escape with their life, and unlike him... Ven wasn't doomed to be destroyed no matter the possible outcomes listed in his file.

Outcomes he already knew would come to be before his reading them.

He grimaces as whatever dark and undead power started to burn through his armor as it wafted off of Sora, but for Ven's sake, he kept holding on--]

Then go! Let me do what I was created to-!

[--but as he said it, his grip was lost as Sora broke free. Ira screams, more enraged then in the pain of the blow, as he flies backward. This wasn't good. He was already reaching his limit and he's only landed two hits, too concerned for Ven's safety than sticking to his original plan.

Ira twists in the air, landing crouched on his feet and good hand. He could almost feel the street slightly giving way (or was it just his armor?) as he watches Sora prepare to use the once-interrupted Strike Raid at Ven.]

Want some more!?

[With his enhanced speed, he raced to parry the strike again. For a moment it felt like he was "home" again, that these skills weren't as foreign to him as they still felt after the resets. He felt like "himself" again rather than what this world thought of him as.

His blade meets Sora's Keyblade as he struggles to hold it back, only managing to deflect it into a nearby building. Of course, that means "Sora" would summon it back into his hands to deal with the bigger threat at the present. Hopefully it would be enough for to get through to Ven just how little time was left before he wouldn't be able to hold Sora off of him.]

Then you'll have to go through me.

[Yet there's something... off about his tone. There is no sass, no witty remarks, no sense of dry humor he tried to use in front of his friends that knew not of the horrors he'd faced or become, in a way. Drawing his sword again in one more attempt to stall, an unhinged grin crosses his lips.

This wasn't the "Ira" that Ven knew; it was the spy who had given up his chance to be happy to protect his fellow replica and countless others by accepting to be the curse of a dark world's plot.]

[makingfriends]

[Even under the threat of being attacked again, Ven didn't move -- nothing more than a futile shift in his stance, as if he stood a chance at blocking anything that came his way. The short seconds of time that Ira bought him after that were equally wasted as he tried desperately to think of anything he could do to help here -- but his willpower and injuries aside, he'd quite literally chosen the worst Jobs for the events unfolding tonight.

All around, he was useless here -- and it seemed as though trusting Ira was really all he could do.

At the very least, though... He reached out, casting Slow on Sora again, and renewing Ira's Haste.]

Don't...

[His voice broke, his throat was already raw from panting and speaking through the crushing pressure of his dented breastplate, but he forced himself to call out loudly enough to be heard.]

Don't die! I don't care if you'll come back to life later -- Sora wouldn't want this, and I...!

[I've seen too many friends die here

But the more he spoke, the more time he wasted. He could finish the thought later, once this was over and Ira was okay because he would be, he had to be--

Ven turned to go, finally, but that didn't stop him from catching a final glimpse of Ira -- rather, of his expression, the unusual air around him, combined with the stance that had never looked so strikingly familiar as it did in that tense moment.

Even then, Ven didn't stop, but put what strength he had into launching into a running start in the opposite direction. Towards the hospital, jaw set painfully tight and eyes stinging.]