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Entry tags:
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{ battle against the story eater }
BATTLE AGAINST THE STORY EATER
The Story Eater has arrived.
More details on everything can be found here. We will request any thread submissions for certain prompts during AC and TDM threads will count. For more information, refer to the Game Notes.
Players who made boss submissions, if you are creating a prompt in your toplevel or wish to create a designated prompt for your boss, please comment here which will be used as a directory.
I. ON THE MOON
Those on the moon will at first feel overwhelmed, possibly even forced to the ground by the sheer enormous force of the nightmare energy that continues to pour out where the Story Eater had once stood. It feels as if they had extremely underestimated its power, and those of a weak mind will already feel the effects of the nightmare latching onto their worst fears. However, a cold air brushes over them and the ground beneath warms as it pulses white. In an instant, the oppressive feeling disappears, clarity returning to them.
It's too early to fall now, little dreamers, a sultry voice whispers in their ears with a laugh as another sighs, the softer voice like a melody. Quick, before the blessing loses its effect. The rest is up to you.
A. Tapir Calvary. The tapirs may have been hanging back for a while, but they will pop in, all eager to feast upon the nightmares that appear. Of courseโฆ Like anything, too much is dangerous for them as well. While they are able to withstand the seemingly endless amount of nightmare energy as if they are just swimming through flooded waters, after eating too much they start to wobble and complain of their stomachs hurting. This in turn makes them irritable, and instead of stopping to eat, they start eating more. Stop them before they eat themselves sick. Those that start to exude a dark mist and start turning black need to be quickly taken off the moon or sent into a dream. If they are notโฆ They will disappear to somewhere unknown. B. Slenderman and Cupid. There are two particularly strong foes that will be working with the Story Eater. "Slenderman" will be just like it was when it first appeared by the castle, feasting on nightmare energy and using shadows to its advantage. It will be a tough foe to kill, but explosive wisps and pure dreamotion light will be effective against it. Cupid will be insane and will try to inflict hatred upon any struck by his arrows. He is more unstable and will be more susceptible to those who try to purify it with love and kindness. (Cupid will most likely move to attack the town so he is available for On the Ground prompts.)
C. Wisped Away. With the amount of monsters and damage caused by the Story Eater directly and its creations, deaths are inevitable. Normally for those who have fully integrated into the world, like the fae and the dragons, this would have been permanent. However, perhaps due to the unusual nature of the Story Eater, they will be "graced" the same fate like the dreamers that inhabit Reverein. Their physical body may disappear, but their "soul" turns into condensed dreamotion energy and takes the form of a wisp. (Characters can and will be turned into wisps if they die so these can also apply to them.)๐ Because of the high likelihood of the original body suffering a traumatic event, the wisp will be extremely vulnerable and has a high risk of turning into a noctaere. They will flash red and black and the deeper the color, the closer they are to changing. Find and help purify them via dreamotion.
๐ฆ Escort vulnerable wisps to the portal so they can be taken to a safehouse and calm down.
๐ฃ Some wisps will not feel negative emotions and instead will want to continue to fight. Although they are still vulnerable, because their dreamotion energy is so condensed they have the ability to explode without any harm to themselves to either inflict damage on the creatures OR to help purify those afflicted with pure dreamotion energy. These wisps will be gold in color.
II. ON THE GROUND
As soon as the Story Eater appeared, those of strong magical prowess had attempted to erect a barrier to protect the town and its surroundings from the brunt of the fallout, but it could not keep up forever, especially as those who try to keep it in place begin to quickly fall as their own nightmares take over. Thus while it's still safer than what's going on on the moon, the same afflictions can still be felt and experienced.
A. Support the Barriers. There are two different barriers currently protecting Reverein and the surrounding areas. Not only must they be defended from attacks, they also need help to stay up.๐งฑ The sand walls erected earlier will stand tall and withstand most physical attacks, but eventually they will begin to crumble and create gaps. They must be quickly patched up and defended as the Story Eater's minions, creations, and those turned into noctaere start to push through.
๐ฎ The magic barrier is fueled with dreamotion and serves to help keep the effects of the nightmare energy lowered so that most of the people inside can withstand it. However, as those who are trying to keep it up fall, replacements are needed. To help, the moles from before bring up crystals that anyone can help channel and use to help as a power source to empower the barrier.
B. Aid Relief. Those who have been injured and brought back from the moon or from around town will be ushered into designated locations set up for healing. Be it physical or mental, they will be treated and protected by those who remain on defense. However, as the battle goes on and more people are afflicted, supplies and personnel will wear out, so additional aid will be needed. This may even require venturing out to get much needed herbs or supplies unless someone can dreamotion them up.
III. SPECIAL MONSTERS & BOSSES
The Story Eater is using its powers to take on the forms of an individual's worst nightmare or enemy. This could be anything. Below is the full list of special bosses and mob monsters that were submitted by players and can be encountered both on the moon and on the ground. Refer to the original links for more information. Players are still free to create and use anything that is not on the list, especially f their character's worst nightmare is something else. IMPORTANT! While any of these are capable of killing, those marked with the red flag (๐ฉ) indicate that these are more likely to perform kills or destroy the individual to turn them into wisps.
A. Monster Mobs. Typical monster/mob creatures that while numerous are the weakest and easier to defeat. Physical attacks will be enough, but dreamotion or using Aspect abilities will inflict more damage.๐ Sinner Demons. They take on any form based on the type of sin they committed. Could take on the form based on the person they face.
๐ฑ Devils. Takes on forms based on the fears of people.
๐จ Garlean K-9 Soldiers and hunting dogs. These soldiers aren't here to help and will be targeting anyone they come across.
๐ป Cursed Spirits. Spiritual beings manifested from cursed energy as a result of the negative emotions that flow out of humans. They cause harm to humans and seek humans out to harm them.
๐จ Redead. Emits a scream that immobilizes temporarily, moves towards target and jumps on back to deal damage.
๐ Nagas. Breathe and spew toxic miasma and prolonged exposure to it can cause weaker beings to transform into nagas themselves. Archnaga's venom is corrosive in both liquid and gas forms. Can also swallow large objects. ๐ฉ
๐ถ Shadows. Shadow-like blobs and tables and headless dancers and things. Fairly weak.
๐ Zeugles. Aggressive genetically enhanced animals; must destroy the core inside to completely destroy them.
๐คบ Sword Retrograde Army. Sword tsukumogami summoned for a cause to change history. Generally stronger than normal humans with some spiritual powers.
๐น Demons. Can hide their horns and wings to appear more human, otherwise their true form is more monstrous. They range from committing harmless silly pranks to more violent and murderous. ๐ฉ
๐ญ Four Masks. Drains one's sanity until they go berserk with potential to summon Atman (boss).
๐ Noise. Affect people with weaker willpower and play on their negative emotions or nightmares.
๐ฐ Xeroms. Monsters capable of attacking, infesting and draining emotions dry leaving the victim an empty husk.
B. Solo Bosses. Some nightmares manifest into one singular entity with greater powers and considered a higher leveled "boss." They do not appear as often or in number as the monster mobs and some may be controlled by players.๐ฌ Gumball Waterson. Cartoon character turned creepy due to nightmare energy, but still on the sillier side. Body parts morphing or separating from him, getting into weird places, driving invisible cars, surviving crazy falls; basically whatever might be funny at that moment.
๐ Parrah & Nayo. Twin puppets that are not physically strong, but they're very annoying and are the "like to break people by talking" type of antagonist.
๐โโ๏ธ Takaya Sakaki. Charismatic but otherwise a weaker enemy capable of standard Persona based magical and physical attacks and capable of summoning nightmare based Personas.
๐ Rasputin. Can summon minions, destroy things, conceal nightmares within illusions.
๐ฅ Firelord Ozai. Can bend/generate fire and lightning, strong physical abilities.
๐ฆ Valentino. A charismatic moth demon capable of controlling smoke and has pheromones that can attract those to him.
๐งโโ๏ธ Gaea. Goddess of the Earth. Stronger when tethered to Earth. Powers include geokinesis, chlorokinesis (control of plants), creation of sentient life forms, atmokinesis (weather), control of animals, transformation.
๐ฑ Omega Flowey. Can grow vines, venus flytraps, plant stems that shoot, lots of plant based attacks.
๐ Sephiroth. Sword fighting proficiency, shapeshifting, ability to cause hallucinations, telekinesis of medium sized objects, minor manipulation abilities, materia magic. Potential lethal backstabs. (Prompts available within FFVII toplevels). ๐ฉ
โก Raiden Shogun. Scary lady with lightning based attacks, illusions, large-range attacks.
๐ค Shouki no Kami. Divine Automaton that uses lightning based attacks.
๐ Stella. Vile woman who thrives off mentally and physically tormenting.
๐ Paimon . Stolas' father, a powerful demon capable of shapeshifting, teleportation, grimoire manipulation, projection.
๐งฃ Ardyn Izunia. Has thirteen weapons at his disposal; can cast powerful magic such as striking down lightning, summoning blizzards, fiery explosions; has the power to heal; and is resilient to physical pain.
โณ Kronos. God-like strength, specializes in sword combat, tough to take down. Has several types of kinesis magic.
๐ Nyx. Only has one main ability: cast death. However it's a slow windup so can be beaten beforehand. ๐ฉ
๐พ Wakaba Isshiki. Large sphynx with a woman's head. Heavy wind, almighty, and physical attacks. There can be riddles that are pertinent to those who engage it.
๐ฎโโ๏ธ Makima. A woman who looks normal but is actually a Devil of immense strength, enhanced smell, domination, and can force manipulation that can damage weak targets by simply staring at them.
๐ค Atman. A very creepy giant mask that will disappear but then reappear after being defeated.
๐คธโโ๏ธ Vholran. Fights with a waterblade. Acrobatic swordsman, mastery over water-elemental astral energy and can cast high power artes.
๐จ Creed Graphite. A Will Artist (spellcaster) capable of casting spells and summoning and controlling Xeroms.
๐ผ Ganon. Hate and hunger for power in physical form. Can corrupt anything with darkness, will only be able to corrupt non-PCs unless players want to do something with that.
๐ Calamity Ganon. Capable of creating Malice (poison substance that can cause other monsters or bosses to go aggro) and raising other monsters from the dead. Can be destroyed by any type of sealing dreamotion magic.
๐ Xehanorts (multiple). Control darkness and use darkness as a weapon; controlling people to his will by turning them into versions of himself, otherwise known as getting "norted" where victim gains yellow eyes and is controlled to his whims and the darkness in their heart/they will follow their darker side. Darkness meteorites can also be a thing.
โ Emperor Demitrius (final boss form). Basically heal himself back up to full mid-fight so it will take a few rounds to defeat him.
C. Megabosses. Extremely powerful entities that may not even be defeated by conventional means and instead have powers that affect everyone instead. High chance of death. ๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ค Diaspora. Half the size of Dragon Island and up in the sky, it can disassemble dreamotion energy and knock someone out into wisp form without dying with a beam of blue goop. Has high regeneration, but will be vulnerable to prolonged attacks.
๐ฒ Dragons (Voids). Faces of dragons that coalesce in from the sky when they decide to attack with high concentrations of nightmare energy. Zhaitan will be capable of turning those who turned into wisps into noctaere in the form of Void Risen. Mordremoth will just descend and smash into small areas to inflict damage. Kralkatorrik will fire a giant beam of crystal fire breath that will encase anyone and anything in its path into purple crystal, and they must be freed before they turn into noctaere.
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c: !!
Her presence thereafter is a silent one as she looks on through the exchange, but when Ferran turns back - the sight that greets him might not be quite what was expected. In similar case to his, Naminé is clad in a long, deep-colored dress as formal as her unusually delicate jewelry, which suits her alternate character more than it does the girl herself - and suits not at all, unfortunately, the battlefield. It's been torn multiple times by now, her silvery gold hair loose in several places from her fine braid, and she--
To see her, it would be forgiveable for one to think her mad. The clothing and disarray aside, the look in her eyes has them bright with a wordless, unspeakable fury, like two points of the hottest blue part of a flame. In contrast to the gentleness of her typical nature, she might as well be a different person entirely, stretched to her last nerve and ready at any moment to take vengeance.
But-- those strange eyes of hers are on the apparition at first. They make a quick flick toward Ferran thereafter, and though they don't change much - there's an understanding in them as she takes in his expression, and the roiling, subtle power that emanates from her ripples ominously as she turns slowly, fully, to face the two men. ]
Leave him alone.
[ No matter how far outside of her grasp her own power and mind have gotten - Naminé still knows where to put her ire. And that fellow, with his golden eyes and menacing aura, is enemy enough for her, even in this state; there's an or else implied by her upturned palm that the simple directness of her words doesn't state, especially when a distinct flame begins to gather between her fingers.
Perhaps if she were more familiar with Ferran's fears, a different spell might have made an appearance instead - but with her current affliction, it's hard to know for sure. ]
no subject
W-wait—
[But the figure steps to the side as his laughter fades, pointedly keeping Ferran between Naminรฉ and himself, the wrist still in his loose grasp. His other hand settles on Ferran's shoulder as the young man breaks out into a cold sweat, apparently unable to bring himself to move more than to glance at the man from the corner of his eye.]
Whatever you do will not keep him from me.
[It's a simple fact, delivered with the utmost confidence; there's no fear to be seen in the nightmare's bearing. But while the girl has apparently caught his interest, he turns his eye to the source of the memories that have given him form. The darkness that can practically be felt around him seems to seep back through his touch—and Ferran clutches his head in pain.]
Agh—
no subject
Maybe, if she were further gone, she'd make good on her wordless threat. But that little voice which belongs to her truer self is louder now than it was before, and injuring Ferran would be contrary to her goals in the first place. Her eyes are naturally drawn down toward his face when he moves, and linger there when he cries out in pain. (The corners of her mouth stutter ever so slightly, brows drawing together in fractional amount; there's nothing she can consciously feel under the steady flow of hatred, but the core of her heart still aches terribly to see such a thing, even if it only reaches the surface as the slightest of disturbances.)
Exhaling, she lets the fire wink out of existence, and from there her arm falls to her side. ]
... No. I suppose it won't.
[ There's no shortage of anger still in her eyes, but - it's not in the form of frustration. Rather, by now they have an almost tired feeling to them, near exasperated, as if this unusual man were a spoiled child throwing a tantrum. ]
The two of you seem to have a strong connection.
[ And given the nature of this manifestation, Naminé's not unaware that it draws at least some of its stability from her own power. She can sense it just as surely as if she'd done it on purpose, but with so much of her magic already crowding the space, grasping hold of one particular strand of it is a challenge. No matter; she's willing to search, concentration gradually shuffling through the various chains and connections seeking one she can use. Whether it's what draws her power toward this apparition or Ferran's memories themselves, it's worth grasping for whatever might grant her an advantage. ]
But there is...
[ Her endeavor doesn't necessarily require that she keep the entity distracted, provided he's not the sort to notice what she's up to, and yet - for Ferran's sake, it doesn't seem like such a bad idea to encourage the man to keep talking. ]
... One thing that I think you're wrong about.
no subject
Whether the phantom made solid can detect what she's doing wouldn't change the unshakeable, sly surety in his demeanor, like he's plotted out every potential outcome and accounted for them accordingly. Such is Ferran's image of the man, after all. His fate is sealed, thanks to Rion—along with his own failures to fight back and trust his friends.]
If you're referring to my remark about you—I admit my experience is limited. Consider it an educated guess.
[The man removes his hand from Ferran's wrist, instead settling it on the young man's other shoulder. His form flickers but remains, her magic drawn away and the nightmarish Eater's taking its place, at least in part. The total is a more diluted energy than what brought him into being, but apparently plenty to maintain his current presence. Even with a greater limit to what the memory-Rion can do, it won't take much to tip Ferran over the edge—he's been on the brink for a long time.
Naminรฉ will feel semi-defined sensations through her efforts to search through Ferran's memories: the simple kindness the man showed when he was a boy, and the much more generous sort later when he'd lost everything of his family; his now-guardian's undetected manipulations disguised as concern as he sought revenge; the success in breaking him down into little more than a weapon against his friends with the knowledge of the true identity of his family's murderer and a bit of coercive and corruptive magic. There's another, too—the near-death he experienced protecting this man from the very friends who were trying to save him, and the clear shock and displeasure his guardian displayed when fully healing his wounds.]
As for the boy... Well. Why don't you show her what you're capable of.
[It's not a question. The sound of a single crack as if in glass almost drowns out the quiet gasp that Ferran chokes back, but he doesn't move—not yet.]
no subject
The memories she'd typically view as her own are buried deep under the roiling waves of negative energy in her mind, only barely accessible to her, but a fragment of one floats up into the light, and she thinks-- 'So this is him.' Rion's reputation precedes him, now that she considers it further, but it hardly needed to; it only takes those immediate glimpses from Ferran's past to found a visceral distaste for his guardian's existence. Hasn't she known ones before who were traitorous, wicked, selfish--? Oh, this fellow has got to go, on those grounds if not for his more recent sins, the fact he's a phantom notwithstanding.
But she can feel it when the connection to her magic snips away in favor of a different one, and she's all too conscious of the fact that erasing this guy will consequently be that much harder. It won't stop her from trying, nonetheless; no other option seems forthcoming, considering his hold on Ferran. ]
I wasn't, [ she responds to Rion's words, quiet but decisive. Whatever she'd meant to say, it has to fall by the wayside now. (It might be Rion wasn't the person it was intended for, anyway.) Regardless, she keeps mum until it's clear whatever he's had in mind is done. Not knowing what there is to interfere with, what she can interfere with and not make things even worse for the younger man himself, she can only grasp more tightly to the threads of her own magic in anticipation, hands restless at her sides.
She could make the first move, but... whether out of caution or consideration, she doesn't. Instead, she watches closely, and only calls a single, careful, ]
... Ferran?
no subject
... heh.
[The nightmare's hands leave Ferran's shoulders then; its goal accomplished, it no longer has any need for it. After all, the work was already done more than a year ago now, before he ever came to this place. It just needed some help to resurface.
Left hand returning to his side and the other brushing his bangs out of his eyes, Ferran straightens slightly and fixes her with an intent gaze, blazing orange instead of the typical brown. His voice is almost lighthearted, completely missing any of the concern or fear he so clearly displayed moments ago.]
Could be fun. Don't you think, Naminรฉ?
[A flash of black crackling energy summons a silver sword to his hand.]
no subject
No matter her distaste for the nightmare, she's sensible enough to keep her eyes on Ferran, who at this point seems more likely to be a threat. The look on his face when he lifts it is proof enough she was right to, and she finds his gaze without hesitation. Her own focus is as piercing as ever, yet without its normal gentling from her usually-kind nature, and she meets his jovial words with matching intensity in a more serious flavor. ]
I think you and I have... [ Her eyelashes flutter once, subtly, as she perceives the sword appearing, but-- doesn't look down at it. By now she's already started to withdraw her attention from grabbing hold of any memories; even if she were to endeavor to control some part of them, she needs to last long enough to do so, and since he's armed... ] ... Different ideas of what that word means.
[ Her fingers curl; outwardly she doesn't look distressed, but on the inside, she's already rushing to gather the more commonplace aspects of her magic in the hopes of forming some kind of defense against whatever he has in mind. He's stronger than her physically, surely - that's not any particular distinction, slight as she is - but is he faster? More powerful? There's so much she doesn't know, but-- ]
Still, if this is what you want... I'll do my best to entertain you.
no subject
I really love how agreeable you are.
[With a theatrical twirl to his sword, his other hand palm-up to enhance the gesture, he raises it above his head then sweeps it into a thrust—not in a physical attack, but to channel an intense burst of water intended to knock her off her feet.
He plans to go easy on her, to start—while she's certainly capable of defending herself if the trail he was following is any indication, he doesn't want to do too much damage and end things prematurely, or to even necessarily defeat her. For all the nightmare and its true source has corrupted him, all it's really done has dragged the more unpleasant aspects of Ferran himself to the surface, however violent and unpleasant the results may be.
Said nightmare, meanwhile, seems to already be fading into shadow, becoming indistinct despite the density of dark energy that still remains. There's not much worse it can do, in Ferran's mind, and little reason for it to cling to a defined human form.]
no subject
Now seems to be the only time she'll have to prepare, and so she raises her hands from her sides in a brief motion, calling up a defensive swirl of wind in the form of Aero. But no sooner has she done so than Ferran provides her with such a strange compliment, giving her visible pause as her lips part. Neither the words nor the tone were expected, and it shows in her momentary pause, the brief knit of her brow. ]
... What else are friends for?
[ It's the first thing that comes to mind to shoot back, and by then - her eyes are already on that motion of his. He's telegraphing it pretty broadly, which prompts both that much more confusion and the beginnings of a sidestep as Naminé hurries to shift out of the way. Speed not being her strong suit, she catches the blast along one side of her body; the wind shunts aside part of of it before fading, but her balance is already compromised as she stumbles.
It wouldn't take much to knock her the rest of the way over, but-- her opposite arm flings out as she turns to try to recover, a quick burst of Blizzard forming a few small chunks of ice that fly Ferran's direction. Making contact isn't really the goal so much as discouraging him from pressing the advantage - and yet even for that, it's not as destructive a spell as she could have used, judging by the signs of her handiwork from earlier.
It seems she's not to keen on hurting him right away, either. Perhaps that nightmare of his would be fair game, but she doesn't have the attention to spare it at the moment beyond keeping the corner of her eye on it as it fades. Another strange development, then - but unsettling though it might be, it's certainly better than having to defend two fronts. ]
no subject
As she casts her spell, he holds his free hand forward in an obvious attempt to channel his own. But rather than it emerging from Ferran himself, an identical pattern of ice as the one she conjured falls down towards Naminรฉ, though only driven by gravity rather than the power she holds. A sweep of his sword knocks away the more direct shards of her icy magic, the rest grazing his armor and leaving a notable amount of frost behind.
He has to thwack the side of his leg with the side of his blade to break the chunk of ice that's frozen his knee in place, and part of the silvery metal armor breaks off with it. As he takes slow but intent strides towards her, he keeps gleaming orange eyes on her, his posture slightly hunched forward and misplaced humor still in his features. The darkness that was once the image of the other man seems to seep into his shadow, slowly but surely.]
Come on, is that it? I want you to surprise me.
no subject
The long and the short of it is that she doesn't like her chances, and she likes them even less if Ferran manages to get up close. But that's not enough to force her to relax the chokehold she has on what of her morals she can still recognize in this state, despite the rain of ice she was wholly unprepared for that drops down on her from above. Her startled squawk becomes a sharper yelp of pain as one particularly large chunk makes contact with her shoulder; it might not have the force her spell did, but she's also spent far less time being physically attacked than he has, and is not nearly as well protected.
Clumsily, she manages to deflect some of the ice with a quick cast of Reflect and an upraised arm, but her dress is looking decidedly chillier to don than before. She has the good fortune, at least, not to be wearing something that hinges, and thus she's saved the trouble of having to break up the more loosely-placed frost in order to move.
She doesn't look happy, regardless. The heat of her frustration flares in her eyes, this time more genuinely. (It does not, however, stop her from beginning to shiver as she clasps one hand to her abused shoulder, trying to warm it the best she can without that warmth causing actual fire.) And already he's advancing on her, of course - which only drives home what she's begun to realize; she needs some distance. ]
No, [ she answers back, leaving her shoulder be a moment to outstretch her arm again. ] ... You don't.
[ The magic that flies forth this time is hardly visible at all - more like a ripple or distortion in the air than anything tangible, and it misses him besides. Why should become clear a moment later when Magnet opens up a void some distance from him, which immediately begins to try to draw everything within range toward it, including Ferran himself. If he's not quick enough to brace against it or manage some way out of its reach, he might find himself getting tossed around most dizzyingly. ]
no subject
Only to find the weapon drawn into the abyss of that spell, and his balance along with it.
He conjures another—or perhaps the same one, drawn back into his hand like the keyblades she's familiar with—and after several feet worth of stumbling and spinning to set himself in the right position, spears it into the ground before he can be fully drawn into the gravitational pull. He drags himself back down to the cobblestones, bracing himself so he can watch her again.
He laughs, hysterical with some of that surprise he asked for. But he knows that until that magic wears off, it would be unwise to move, much less towards her. Unless... unless that movement could instantly drop him in a different location entirely.
Ferran calls out to her, over the noise of the boards and bricks drawn into the Magnet and crashing into each other.]
That's not a bad one... but it's dangerous to hold back, you know? [A warning. She has her distance, but what will she do with it?]
no subject
To her hesitant relief, he manages to stop himself. Only then does she let out her held breath, hand falling as she frowns at him. Wisps of her own hair are pulled toward the void by the passing air, her dress billowing in folds, but she's made sure to position the center of her magic far enough away not to pull the rest of her toward it. It sure is making a mess, however - and over the sound of it, she calls back, ]
Not as dangerous as letting go!
[ That isn't to say, though, that he's wrong. She knows that to be the case, and so she wastes no time in lifting both hands again. The side he struck is a little lower, a little weaker, but it doesn't impede her efforts; as the void continues to draw in its surroundings, those very same surroundings begin to change.
The world itself seems to spin almost nauseatingly, reality twisting in a bizzare blur of images as it all reorients, shifting shape and color in a disconcerting mess as buildings become ruins and bushes and creeping vines, as structures form out of nowhere to take the shape of rocks and trees and pillars. The end result that begins to form is a kaleidoscope of different locations, from a lonely forest to a firelit castle hall to a number of other places that appear in impossible fragments, all brushing up against each other like pieces of stained glass.
Even if Naminé can't flee outright, she can certainly do her best to hide. That seems to be her intent as the twisting treeline that springs up from nothing obscures the space between them, trying to cover her from view. (Strange, isn't it, how this whole illusion she's created bears an uncanny resemblance to the painting hanging on the wall in his house...? But then again, its author is the very same girl.)
As the void fades, its pull finally tapering off into nothing, this new world is still settling into place. Whether he can see her amongst the mess or not, careful ear might be able to catch light footsteps as the quiet becomes more prevalent; Naminé's got sense enough, it seems, not to stay in the same place. ]
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That doesn't seem to dampen his mood, though, especially when the sights begin to resolve into something a little more stable. It reminds him of something...]
Ohh, now we're getting interesting.
[With the pull of the spell disappeared, Ferran returns to his full height, pulling his sword out of what now appears to be the carefully carved stone of an old building. He's quick to move away from the firelight, towards the more natural setting of the forest.
He speaks in the direction of what sounds like some kind of rustling... is it the the girl, or some conjured phantom sound, perhaps? He's played these kinds of tricks before.]
It's a good thing I don't have my Fae eyes anymore, or that would make this too easy. I've made a few illusory mazes myself, you know...
[Even so, being on the other side of it makes the prospect far more appealing, if just because he knows that author. In an attempt to search for her, he climbs a tree with a mere few running steps up the trunk before he grabs a branch to pull himself up. Will it be a better vantage point, or will she find other ways to conceal herself and try to escape?]
How long have you been hiding this magic, hmm?
[If he manages to spot her, he has a plan to stop her in her tracks: a sizeable wooden carriage, magically appearing where it will crash down in front of her path. If not, he'll simply have to keep looking...]
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That isn't to say that he's alone, however; the young witch has no intention of leaving Ferran to his own devices in such a state. Although she remains out of sight from ground level, it's not hard to sense her eyes on him from a distance. (The fact that the changes to his surroundings seem to follow him, never presenting a gap where the reality of their location can appear, might be proof enough of her attention, if the palpable sense of her presence isn't.)
And yet, she doesn't make a move. Rather, she's biding her time, most likely trying to gather herself; without the benefit of his experience or the freedom that comes from wishing to eliminate one's opponent rather than preserve them, she has to go through the effort to formulate some kind of plan. Only-- the sudden change in his vantage point might put a damper on that; a flutter of cloth and blonde hair does suggest that his prey's just managed to step behind a tree a moment too late, and whether the carriage appears or not - her voice does indeed come from that location. ]
I wasn't hiding it...!
I wasn't hiding it...!
[ ... The problem is, her voice comes from at least one other location, too, like an echo from the opposite direction, amidst some ruins in another segment of this false reality. Which one is real? Is either of them real? Regardless, they certainly give him somewhere to search. Identical as they are, both versions sound on edge; she certainly seems pressed, one way or another, although there's still something sad in her, ]
There's just never been any reason for us to fight.
There's just never been any reason for us to fight.
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And aha—there she is. Or so it seems? The crash of the wood against the ground rumbles even up to his new perch, but he hears nothing of an expected shriek or even a gasp. He only leaps to a tree in that direction once before that fact registers to him, and then the doubled voice draws his attention elsewhere...]
Well, don't worry—this won't be the last opportunity we'll have.
[His tone is almost playful despite the clear threat in the words; he's apparently looking forward to it.
She sounds tense, but not panicked, or like she knows she's been spotted. His attempted attack apparently didn't rattle her all that much, and so—he turns his attention towards the distant voice, deciding it's time for an investigation into a different fragmented space. A simple teleport before the nearest chunk of building he can see should get him there before she can move too far away, he thinks, so he disappears in a crackling blink of white light before his feet meet the ground there in the same fashion, his armored gloves meeting the edge of the structure as he attempts to peer around...]
We've still got so much to learn about each other, after all.
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Indeed, it seems he's chosen correctly as he appears in this new space. The ruins of a castle greet him - perhaps even the same hall he turned away from before, the one that used to have warm fire blazing before the hearth and flickering on torches. Now, in this version of the world, all these sources of illumination are cold, and instead it's broad rays of sunlight peeking through the ruined shell of a roof that make the place visible to the human eye. Shadow and sun alike pool in patches along the tattered rugs and tapestries, and in the midst of them, Naminé lingers cautiously, tucked close in the shade of a looming pillar that's already halfway collapsed. ]
If that's all you want, there--
If that's all you want, there--
[ About then it occurs to Naminé how much closer his voice has gotten - and only at that point does she turn with a whip of surprise in that direction, the distant echo of her own secondary voice fading away. ]
-- Are much better ways to do it.
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With no fire to break his limited focus, he begins to stalk towards her slowly, crossing through shadows and light and making the magical glow of his eyes—and the red gem of the silver necklace he always wears—apparent.
His sword appears in his hand. Will she disappear in another swirl of unreality? Is her energy spent? Or does she have something else under her sleeve?]
I don't think you really understand which topics I'm interested in.
[Ferran wants to drive her to desperation. He doesn't care about his own safety, even if his actions under the nightmare's influence might have driven her concerns back to the surface. What can she truly do to stop him? He needs to know.]
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He really is set on toying with her, isn't he? It might even be flattering if one were the type of person to appreciate it, yet she certainly is not--
And at the moment, it looks almost like there's nothing left to stop him as his small blonde quarry edges further back along the shadow of the pillar, peering out from it at him with eyes that burn with frustration rather than any supernatural glow. ]
... I don't think you do, either.
[ He's not in his right mind. She has to remind herself of that as she considers her move, doesn't dare forget it--
Cautiously, she slips back out of sight around the pillar. There's not enough cover for her to make any kind of physical escape, surely, without being seen - nor is there any audible noise to indicate she's left any other way once she's hidden. But chances are he'll have to take a look back one way or another, won't he? ]
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Her retreat spurs him forward. As he approaches that pillar he can feel the edge of something—panic, perhaps, a violent frustration, or something more magical once driven into him by force, clawing at his chest from the inside—and he makes a decision. Without turning the corner for a proper look, he slashes his blade towards the space he saw her retreat into, a tightness to his set jaw. He's lost patience for the answers he seeks.]
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And from that moment on, well... the answers to a few of his questions, at least, might rapidly become more clear. There's a single beat of startled delay, though not a soundless one - then an almost frantic rustle of cloth, the patter of two steps, and a rush, both of sound and of power as coiling purple energy flares to life on the opposite side of the barrier between them, licking over the top of the pillar.
Of course, this is also simultaneous with a matching shift in the air around him as the other end of the portal she's conjured opens directly behind Ferran. That's one question down, then; she's not bound entirely by the normal laws of space either. No sooner has this been proven than one slim hand reaches out from the portal with purpose, trying to grab any part of him it can reach.
She holds no weapon or spell in the splay of her fingers, but she doesn't need one. Whether it's an arm or a shoulder she catches hold of, her goal has deeper focus, for it's what lurks beneath his current facade she's actually searching for. Her natural power snaps out with grasping fingers just as much as her arm does, hoping to get purchase on his heart. Not to destroy it, but to direct it--
Taking such a risk with both her own safety and his would be unconscionable to her otherwise, but now-- it seems he's found the end of her patience just as much as she's found his. The bar's much lower now in her current state, with Cupid's arrow of hate still swirling through her veins.
The fury in her features is ferocious indeed, now that he's drawn blood. ]
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What he's been through has only made him even more susceptible to such manipulation: his heart is in pieces, tenuously tied together with the power of the magic he wields, enough to keep him awake and alive but the darkness wedged in each gap refusing to let him heal. The shards may be sharp at the edges, but they're terribly easy to rummage through and take hold of, for whatever her purposes are.
What she'll find at the root of him now is nothing but his own desperation and self-loathing amplified, and one absolute certainty:
He has to be stopped, whatever it takes.
Ferran knows the man he's helped—his guardian, the nightmare figure she saw manifest—will reduce his world to nothing more than ash if he gets his way. He knows he's taken away the power his friends might have used to stop them. And he knows he'll continue fighting to take away what little chance they have, and that it's his own damn fault for refusing to believe in them.
Knowing he can be stopped before he does worse, becomes worse—it's more important to him than anything else right now. He doesn't need to know what she's capable of. He needs to know she can end him, in one way or another.]
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The swell of her power is instant, roiling and unhidden as it rises up to shadow what remains of his heart. In the past, she's always taken the subtle approach to such matters as these, whispering orders that could be shouted, twisting them to sound like they belong to the heart's own voice instead of hers. Delicate manipulations along the glittering chains of memory, shifting pieces here and there with the utmost concern for avoiding notice, avoiding pain.
But now, her magic is like a tidal wave instead sweeping toward the fragile pieces of his heart without concern over whether he senses it or not, overwhelming and inexorable. His next answer is there, in the sheer force of it as it washes over both of them. Yes, she can end him.
She can end him, and remake him, and end him again--
But she doesn't.
The threat is there, whether she meant for it to be so obvious or not. Yet in the next moment, her fury frays, snaps; perhaps it's at the realization of his state, or perhaps it's merely the doing of the kindhearted nature that still remains, buried under this outer mask of hatred. Whatever the case, her power parts suddenly, splitting to either side just before it actually collides with the shattered pieces of his heart. It spreads outward from there, roaring into the illusion that surrounds them instead. The false world around them cracks into pieces, peeling away like ash and shards of glass as everything dissolves into blinding white, and instead--
Instead, the power that actually wedges itself in between the jagged pieces of his heart is a far gentler one, warm as sunlight, as Naminé - the real Naminé - does her utmost to wrest those fragments of his being from the shadows amongst them.
If the darkness refuses to let them coalesce into what they should be, maybe a little help is all they need to draw back together again.
At the very least, she owes it to him to try. ]
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What he now knows, just from that feeling, answers his question.
The knowing brings a part of him such relief that even if she hadn't swept into his soul with that mending touch, the desperation driving his violence would have dissipated on its own.
The jagged crackles of darkness withdraw somewhat, loosening their grip on him. It doesn't disappear—it may never—or even fully retreat to some corner of his soul, but it allows his heart to settle closer to being in one piece once more. All the tension leaves his physical body, and the glow in his eyes disappears along with his sword. A whisper leaves him:]
Finally...
[His energy spent and the nightmare's influence removed—for now—he collapses in a heap with a clatter of his armor. He's unlikely to awaken until at least a few minutes have passed.]
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Instinct is nearly all that keeps her from going too far, from pressing harder against the darkness that seems almost as much a part of him as the jagged pieces in her grip. But it does stop her, and in the next instant the risk inherent in the connection forces her to reorder her priorities, to draw back her power before it can cause more damage than it repairs.
Hauling in a deep gasp of a breath as her mind snaps back into her body alone, Naminé sways along with him - only barely aware of it when he starts to topple over and her arms automatically try to keep hold. It's enough to cushion his fall if nothing else, even as her own legs give out under the awkward distribution of weight and her distraction; they both hit the ground, him out cold and her on her knees beside him, one hand trapped under his shoulder.
Sitting back onto her heels, Naminé frowns as she wriggles her arm free. That could have gone better, but it could also have been much, much worse. She'll berate herself over it later; for now, it seems more prudent to focus on Ferran.
She can still sense his heart, so it seems he hasn't expired. After making the effort to roll him onto his back, she gives him a cursory glance for any noticeable injury - or any signs of consciousness. By now the illusion around them has faded, leaving their surroundings back - or close to - its true form, with only perhaps a few exceptions Naminé's not familiar enough with the area to recognize. Regardless, this is no place for a nap. ]
I'm sorry, [ she finds herself saying, not quite sure at first how she means it. Then, an amendment, as her cluttered mind sorts itself briefly; ] For everything.
[ Even the parts she wasn't responsible for. Maybe - especially the parts she wasn't responsible for.
But it can't be helped, she supposes. And she can't stay, no matter how much her magic has calmed for the present after excessive use. So the next best thing, she decides, is to get her unintentional charge somewhere safe. (Or safer, at least, in a city at war.)
Which means it's highly likely Ferran will wake up in another place entirely, on the other side of a portal, somewhere far from the fighting. A medical station, perhaps, or at least a quiet corner; either way, whether he's entirely alone or not, Naminé herself won't be there.
For his own good, of course. But they'll have to talk about this later, won't they? ]
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