Iz time to thank ze reviewers! Bwee!!! And, unlike the last few chapters,
people have reviewed! Wow!
Beholder Of The Shadows: You once were lost, and now are found. Kjveet. But who is this Bakura person? A muse? Or a stolen character? Oh well, who gives a damn? I don't! Thanks for reviewing! Hope ja like ze way ze fic continues on!
Arcander: I'm not going to force you to review the other chapters. (But if you really want to I can't stop you ^_^) Glad you like my fic! Well, most people didn't see Aeris as very annoying either, but there's something about someone who wears pink and is constantly optimistic that puts me on- edge. And I will seriously look into hp book 5. Inspiration is an endangered species in the trash heap (Alias, Slash Hold, AKA, my room. Anyway, hope you continue to like ze fic!
Sora Potter: She's the queen of the Half-breeds, not demons. Meh, not TOO far off, anyway. Yes, there are many little details that I felt compelled to add into this fic to make me laugh when I had to re-read it, and a pregnant Yuffie was one of them! It just seems kinda... out of place, ja know? Anyway, glad you like the fic so far! Hope you continue to like it!
Charles Xavier: Well, atleast you're humble. I guess I won't attack you, after all. Behold, my newest chapter! Enjoy!
Molly-chan: Damn. I had thought you wouldn't have disappeared, but well, that's the way the cookie crumbles and gets stomped on. Oh well.
Natsumi: When you come back, I hope you like the way this fic has progressed! Also can't wait to check out your drawing when you're finished with it!
Well! Now that that's out of my system, ON WITH ZE FIC!
Today's chapter name comes from Bush, and is called 'Machine Head'. I guess you can guess what's going to happen next, so I'm not going to spoil it further.
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Chapter XXV: Machine Head
The grating, metallic sound of the Highwind wasn't a welcome sound for creatures trying to sleep. In fact, it managed to throw itself down along the lines of 'break loose the bazooka, we're goin' huntin'.' Type of sound. The kind that made sane being want to throw their morals to the ground and throttle them. And, insane, vengeance hungry demons were no different. Mech- Head, the would-be horde leader who relied mostly upon his krotonite body and regeneration ability to win his battles, was definitely not an exception. The demon opened his eyes, one metal and one flesh, and glared hatefully at the sky, searching for the source of that horrid noise.
"Blasphemous humans." He growled, flipping to his feet, and stretching his metal wings. "Building whatever fool thing that pops into their wretched minds. Never thought of using magic did they, the stupid cretins? Can't imagine how they managed to claim this planet."
He spotted the Highwind, soaring of towards the north. Its huge metal body gleaming in the afternoon light, and his sharp hearing could hear laughter aboard the ship. Laughter! As if they didn't have enough to worry about, with demons raging across the country side! Well, maybe word hadn't gotten out yet. They HAD travelled pretty quick. But he saw no reason to report this to the Shadowlord.
The demon coolly started off in the direction of the Shadowlord's personal camp, where only The Council stayed with him. Even that traitorous cur Chaos wasn't allowed there. Mech-Head grinned maliciously.
~See what morals get you, eh? Nothing but dishonour and wimpy thoughts.~ He thought, satisfied.
He was met by one of the Council members, Faeryn Rath, of the Myriok race, otherwise known as 'man-beasts'. They took on every aspect of a human, or in the days of old, Cetra, except with claws, enhanced senses and muscles, but relatively weak magic, and of course, the trademark crimson eyes that was a giveaway of their race. They were known as the foot soldiers of the demons.
"Hello Mech-Head. I see you didn't rust today. Must be a good omen, eh?" The demon said snidely, her red eyes twinkling. "Or maybe you've just gotten done polishing yourself?" She sniggered.
She was an odd sight, really. She was one of the only demons that actually bother to wear clothes. Demons didn't really consider clothing necessary, as it was a burden that outlasted its usefulness. All demons had sufficient self-esteem to be able to lead a parade through a metropolis without a scrap of clothing, but once in a while, there was a demon who had been tainted by human behaviour, and wore clothing. Such demons were shunned. Faeryn was hardly an exception. Only her cunning mind allowed her tp be a Council member.
"Get out of my way, scum." He hissed. "I need to speak with the Shadowlord."
Faeryn Rath grinned, pulling out a wicked scythe-dagger. She pressed a finger across the edge experimentally, smiling as blood dripped forth freely.
"And I need some entertainment. Maybe killing you would do that?" She said menacingly. "The Shadowlord is hunting the Prince Of Darkness, Jazac Na." She tossed her dagger idly, plucking from the air by the handle. "I am under strict orders to keep anything from distracting him."
Mech-Head sneered, and lashed out with his steel claws.
"Let me pass- Ragh! He roared, and suddenly cried out in pain. Faeryn had ducked under his claws, and slashed upwards with that wicked dagger. It sheared through his left arm, and searing pain spread through him, even as the lost limb began to regrow. Mech-Head retreated, but Faeryn pulled out another dagger, seemingly from nowhere, and lodged it firmly in his chest.
She withdrew suddenly, taking her daggers with her. Mech-Head took a step back, fiery hatred burning in his single living eye, while his mechanic one glared with what seemed to be fury. He held his regrowing arm close, covering it with his other.
"You little... Bitch!" He growled. "When I'm done with Valentine and that machine, I'm coming after YOU!" He hissed, spreading his wings.
Faeryn turned around, exposing her back to him.
"If humans could kill you, even if they were Sephiroth and Valentine, then you bring great shame to your family, Jazac Na. They would be ashamed if they were not gone. You have no honour."
Mech-Head was boiling with rage now. Honour was something in high regard among demons, and even that fool Nox Seran would wage war if someone said he had no honour. Demons were proud, if only their means of existence unconventional.
"I will hunt them down, at this very moment, and bring their heads! And then I will take yours! Wait, and you will see!" He screeched, and took wing. He beat his wings in the direction the Highwind had taken, hastily trying to sense the presense of Vincent Valentine, and the huge quantity of Krotonite that was Seph X's body.
Unfotunately, Seph X was further to the south. Mech-Head paused uncertainly in the air, trying to make up his mind about his to hunt first. Vincent, or Seph X? He decided to head South, and take care of old business first. He and Seph X had an old grudge to settle out, no matter how many times he had to die to settle it.
Seph X would bleed... wait, that was wrong.
Seph X WOULDN'T bleed, but if he had been alive, THEN he would bleed. Wait a second...
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At that very second, Seph X was pondering the science of rust. And why it managed to claim his broadsword, but not the Massamune, even when he had taken a boat with it, and the broadsword being indoors. He inspected its brown edges with a critical, disgusted eye. He then proceeded to bend its blade like butter, before finally deciding to toss it. He pulled out the Massamune, tried top bend its surface. And, with a smile, couldn't bend it. Hojo hadn't been able to completely recreate Krotonite after all. Even now, the Massamune was unbend-able even by his grasp. If it was the only good thing he could say about Mech-Head, it was that he knew how to make a decent weapon. The Massamune was truly a remarkable weapon...
There came a knock from the door. Seph X jumped at the sound, particularly from knowing that his house lay on top of cliff which lay a long way out of anyone's way. At first he was suspicious, but on second thought he realized that Cloud might have come back. He sat up from his hard couch (he only bothered to get one as it consumed less energy to sit and think than to stand and think, which was pretty muchly what he did in his spare time. What do you think a computer with limbs and a personality did in its free time?) And opened the door.
Seph X gasped at the apparition he saw, and quickly reached for the Massamune.
There stood Mech-Head, grinning maliciously. Before Seph X's hand even made it to the handle of the Massamune, Mech-Head slashed outwards with his claws. They raked through the machines chest, and sparks flew as they tore out. His hand clasped around the sword hilt, But Mech-Head was already making his second move. While the hand that slashed him moved away from him, the other jabbed forward, right into his neck.
Sharp, electronic pain roared through Seph X, as Mech-Head twisted his hand around.
Seph X felt the body below his neck suddenly go limp, and then he could feel it at all. His sight shimmered, and fuzzed up.
"You weren't expecting me? Not expecting ME, of all people, not to come back from the grave and hunt you down like the scum you are?"
Seph X sneered suddenly, making a last effort insult his lifelong enemy.
"Bite me, freak."
Mech-Head smiled wickedly.
"My pleasure."
His fangs, which had been fitted over his lips instead of in his mouth, gouged deep into Seph X's face.
And the world went black around him, and his artificial existence ended abruptly.
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Jarred snapped his eyes open suddenly, his red eyes flaring suddenly. Faint memories of demons, pain, blood, and the Blight came back to him in. But most importantly, he remembered telling Elena to run. And if he told her to run, then something terrible must have happened.
"Where is Elena?" He demanded loudly, expecting to see Wraith or Ghost in front of him. Instead, he woke up Joan.
"Whassat, daddy?" She asked sleepily, pushing herself into a sitting position.
Jarred sat up as well, rubbing his eyes. He looked around, studying his surroundings. The chocobo stall on the Highwind? When had he gotten here? WHAT was he doing here? Where was Elena? Where ghost? A thousand questions roared through his mind, and the thought of blowing them up didn't look like it would help too much. They looked like the kind of questions that would come back from the grave to haunt him.
"Uhm, honey, would you happen to know where the lady with blonde hair is?" Jarred asked, trying to put at least one of his questions to rest.
Joan grinned.
"Well, she came in here a while ago, wondering where you were, and when she saw you she went away. I was sleepy so I went to bed here with you." He said, still a but sleepy. She yawned. "What are we gonna do now? Shopping?" The little girl beside Jarred brightened up suddenly at the thought.
Jarred shook his head.
"We only go shopping when we need something. 'Sides, there isn't a shop here." He said, standing up. "Has anyone else been here?"
As if to punctuate him, the door to the stall opened suddenly, and Wraith strode in.
"GLAD TO SEE YOU'RE UP." He remarked mentally.
Jarred scowled.
"Joan, sweetie, could you go and play with Elena for a while? The blonde haired lady?"
Joan nodded, and skipped away, laughing to herself. Jarred scowled at Wraith as his 'daughter' left.
"What do you want?" He demanded, all kindness leaving him. Ghost was fun, and Spectre was alright, but Wraith was a bastard. "I trust you know what I had to do to defend myself?"
Wraith smiled.
"SHE WAS RATHER PLEASED TO SEE THAT YOU'RE AFFINITY FOR MAGIC HAS... INCREASED. SHE HAS CONSIDERED TEACHING YOU HERSELF. I MYSELF WAS RATHER ASTOUNDED THAT YOU SURVIVED SUCH A DRAIN. CONGRATULATIONS. YOU MAY BE THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS YET."
Jarred frowned deeply at this, but said nothing.
"YOU DO REALIZE WE HAVE TO GO BACK SOON. IT WAS ALRIGHT AT FIRST, WHEN YOU'RE POWER WAS WEAKER, BUT NOW YOU MUST BE BROUGHT BACK. TOO MUCH IS AT RISK. SHE DEMANDS YOUR PRESENCE."
Jarred stood up, noticing his dangerous lack of weapons. But then again, there was one weapon that no one could remove...
The young warrior summoned a blue globe in his hands, and raised it to eye height.
"Are you this determined?" He asked menacingly, and the globe dissolved into blue fire.
Wraith put his hand around his sword hilt. His eyes slitted ominously, and his pupils seemed to blaze into to pits of black oblivion.
"I am a Genocider, Jarred." He said, not using telepathy. His voice was filled with a hardness beyond that which Jarred could ever use. He drew his long blade, and ran a finger down its blade. Runes were etched into its edge, runes of fear and power. "We both know what this could do to either of us, Jarred. And it is in my hands now." Menace and command were in his voice, and hardness in his eyes. Wraith oozed with command, and had means to ensure it.
Jarred let his flame dissolve, and smiled.
"At least you don't obey my every whim anymore, Wraith. I will go back, if only to see what she has planned for Psin."
Wraith's face scrunched up with hatred.
"An execution, hopefully. The scum deserves nothing better."
Jarred's humour jolted upwards suddenly, and a genuine laugh came from him. He wrapped an arm around Wraith's shoulder, and led him out of the chocobo stall.
"At least there's SOMETHING we can agree on. But if anyone gets to kill Psin, then its me." He said lightly. Wraith stared at the young warrior with confusion.
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Aeris snorted.
"So? There aren't any Half-Breeds left! They're all dead!" She said, looking at Kahn strangely. "Who cares if they built any temples."
Kahn snapped his head in her direction,
"How many shoes do I need to get hit by for you to realize that Half-Breeds DO exist?!" He snapped, and turned his attention back to Nox Seran. "Where are they?" He demanded.
Nox Serna grinned, and laughed.
"Kahn, YOU, of all people, should know that nobody knows where they are! They pulled one hell of a Houdini act on us!" He laughed. "They managed to convince the world that they were dead, until some HUMAN intervenes."
Kahn frowned, but kept his peace. There was a look of pained regret, tinged with burning rage towards the snake demon. Nox Seran merely pulled out his mallet, and shouldered it.
"I suppose we could ask them where they're hiding, though." He said with a grin.
"What are you talking about?" Kahn snapped, glaring at Nox Seran.
"How many shoes do you need to be hit for you to realize what's throwing them at you?" He said, throwing Kahn's own words back at him. "I say we ask Jarred. Jarred Rath." He said, looking suggestingly at Kahn. The demon lord snorted, and stalked away, spreading his scaly wings behind him. Nox Seran narrowed his eyes slightly, and continued on. "The Prince Of Darkness should know where his people hide."
Kahn faltered in his step, shaken somewhat by what Nox Seran said, but continued on out of the room. But everyone couldn't help but notice his increase in speed.
Nox Seran frowned deeply.
~How far does your betrayal go, Kahn? Have you gone as far as to join HER?~ He thought musingly, and turned back to AVALANCHE, laughing insanely. ~It seems I might have to use my little black-skinned friend once more.~
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There are few pleasures that match the one of being distracted from a war meeting by the maniacal laughter of an insane, vengeance hungry demon. In fact, such pleasures are only considered pleasurable only among the strangest of people. Needless to say, the Shadowlord wasn't one of them. He slashed his way through a guard to confront Mech-Head as he ranted in his insane laughter. In his hands he held the Massamune, a blade forged long ago during the war between Ancients and Demons. In the other, he held the severed head of Seph X, the mechanical clone of Sephiroth, the man who had killed Jazac Na and stolen the Massamune so many years ago.
The Shadowlord looked at the demon with disgust. Faeryn Rath appeared by his side, and gave him a pleading look, drawing her twin daggers. The Shadowlord hesitated for a second, but only a second, before nodding. Faeryn grinned, and approached Mech-Head.
"Hey, wonder boy?" She asked, and Mech-Head turned to face her.
Faeryn switched the daggers in her hands, so that they pointed downwards. Mech-Head grinned, and made as if to slash downwards with the Massamune. Faeryn Jabbed her daggers into Mech-Heads stomach, and pulled each one in a different direction. Mech-Head was sliced in two as those daggers ripped his lower body away. His upper body dropped to the ground, while he howled in pain, and his legs stood awkwardly before toppling over themselves. Faeryn grinned with something akin to satisfaction, mixed with superiority.
While Mech-Head howled in pain, even while his legs regenerated from his waist, the Shadowlord plucked the Massamune from his writhing grasp. He inspected it disdainfully, and tossed it next to Mech-Head.
"It is good to see that you have slain one of your enemies, Jazac Na, but if you ever disturb me again I will dispose of you myself." He growled, and turned to get back to his war meeting.
Mech-Head had grown his legs back up to the knees, and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He was in a berserker rage now, his eyes, both mechanical and flesh, flared red darkly. He slashed his claws against the ground, but kept his peace. Angering the Shadowlord showed little will to live. And there were worse things than death when it came to the Shadowlord, and such things could become reality at the slightest irritation.
"Yes, my lord." He said with strained patience, glaring at Faeryn.
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Psin sat in the queen's presence, flinching inwardly as she coolly reprimanded him.
"I can't say that I am completely against you Psin, but you could have intervened to stop Jarred from using the Blight spell." He silvery, melodious voice said.
Psin was in a kneeling position, with his head down, and a hand resting on his sword hilt. On his belt he carried the bag of bones he had collected.
"I did not know Jarred had the power to use the Blight, my liege. I, I wasn't aware he had that great potential."
"He is the Prince Of Darkness, Psin. You will do well never to put anything above him. Magic is an instinct to him, not a skill."
Psin frowned but kept his peace. ~Jarred this, and Jarred that.~ He thought spitefully. ~Jarred can wield easily, can you Psin? Jarred can use the Blight, can you Psin? Jarred is the Prince Of Darkness, and he can do WONDERFUL things! Well, Jarred could just stick it.~
"I will remember that, my queen. What is your will?"
"Oh, nothing for the moment. Keep Kahn out of trouble, would you? He's only useful to me alive, and I'd hate to see Wraith kill him."
Psin was a bit displeased in the way he was being used as a means to keep demons out of trouble, but outwardly smiled.
"As a chain binds, so I obey." He said. He had no idea where he had pulled it out from, but it seemed the appropriate thing to see. He faded, and vanished.
As he teleported away, the queen was left alone.
"Chains, eh? That gives me a nice idea..." She muttered absently. "A whip would not be unwelcome either..." She added with a grin.
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okay, that last bit wasn't aimed to offend anyone, but more as a way fro me to get my giggles 'n' larks. If you odn't like it, then too bad.
Beholder Of The Shadows: You once were lost, and now are found. Kjveet. But who is this Bakura person? A muse? Or a stolen character? Oh well, who gives a damn? I don't! Thanks for reviewing! Hope ja like ze way ze fic continues on!
Arcander: I'm not going to force you to review the other chapters. (But if you really want to I can't stop you ^_^) Glad you like my fic! Well, most people didn't see Aeris as very annoying either, but there's something about someone who wears pink and is constantly optimistic that puts me on- edge. And I will seriously look into hp book 5. Inspiration is an endangered species in the trash heap (Alias, Slash Hold, AKA, my room. Anyway, hope you continue to like ze fic!
Sora Potter: She's the queen of the Half-breeds, not demons. Meh, not TOO far off, anyway. Yes, there are many little details that I felt compelled to add into this fic to make me laugh when I had to re-read it, and a pregnant Yuffie was one of them! It just seems kinda... out of place, ja know? Anyway, glad you like the fic so far! Hope you continue to like it!
Charles Xavier: Well, atleast you're humble. I guess I won't attack you, after all. Behold, my newest chapter! Enjoy!
Molly-chan: Damn. I had thought you wouldn't have disappeared, but well, that's the way the cookie crumbles and gets stomped on. Oh well.
Natsumi: When you come back, I hope you like the way this fic has progressed! Also can't wait to check out your drawing when you're finished with it!
Well! Now that that's out of my system, ON WITH ZE FIC!
Today's chapter name comes from Bush, and is called 'Machine Head'. I guess you can guess what's going to happen next, so I'm not going to spoil it further.
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Chapter XXV: Machine Head
The grating, metallic sound of the Highwind wasn't a welcome sound for creatures trying to sleep. In fact, it managed to throw itself down along the lines of 'break loose the bazooka, we're goin' huntin'.' Type of sound. The kind that made sane being want to throw their morals to the ground and throttle them. And, insane, vengeance hungry demons were no different. Mech- Head, the would-be horde leader who relied mostly upon his krotonite body and regeneration ability to win his battles, was definitely not an exception. The demon opened his eyes, one metal and one flesh, and glared hatefully at the sky, searching for the source of that horrid noise.
"Blasphemous humans." He growled, flipping to his feet, and stretching his metal wings. "Building whatever fool thing that pops into their wretched minds. Never thought of using magic did they, the stupid cretins? Can't imagine how they managed to claim this planet."
He spotted the Highwind, soaring of towards the north. Its huge metal body gleaming in the afternoon light, and his sharp hearing could hear laughter aboard the ship. Laughter! As if they didn't have enough to worry about, with demons raging across the country side! Well, maybe word hadn't gotten out yet. They HAD travelled pretty quick. But he saw no reason to report this to the Shadowlord.
The demon coolly started off in the direction of the Shadowlord's personal camp, where only The Council stayed with him. Even that traitorous cur Chaos wasn't allowed there. Mech-Head grinned maliciously.
~See what morals get you, eh? Nothing but dishonour and wimpy thoughts.~ He thought, satisfied.
He was met by one of the Council members, Faeryn Rath, of the Myriok race, otherwise known as 'man-beasts'. They took on every aspect of a human, or in the days of old, Cetra, except with claws, enhanced senses and muscles, but relatively weak magic, and of course, the trademark crimson eyes that was a giveaway of their race. They were known as the foot soldiers of the demons.
"Hello Mech-Head. I see you didn't rust today. Must be a good omen, eh?" The demon said snidely, her red eyes twinkling. "Or maybe you've just gotten done polishing yourself?" She sniggered.
She was an odd sight, really. She was one of the only demons that actually bother to wear clothes. Demons didn't really consider clothing necessary, as it was a burden that outlasted its usefulness. All demons had sufficient self-esteem to be able to lead a parade through a metropolis without a scrap of clothing, but once in a while, there was a demon who had been tainted by human behaviour, and wore clothing. Such demons were shunned. Faeryn was hardly an exception. Only her cunning mind allowed her tp be a Council member.
"Get out of my way, scum." He hissed. "I need to speak with the Shadowlord."
Faeryn Rath grinned, pulling out a wicked scythe-dagger. She pressed a finger across the edge experimentally, smiling as blood dripped forth freely.
"And I need some entertainment. Maybe killing you would do that?" She said menacingly. "The Shadowlord is hunting the Prince Of Darkness, Jazac Na." She tossed her dagger idly, plucking from the air by the handle. "I am under strict orders to keep anything from distracting him."
Mech-Head sneered, and lashed out with his steel claws.
"Let me pass- Ragh! He roared, and suddenly cried out in pain. Faeryn had ducked under his claws, and slashed upwards with that wicked dagger. It sheared through his left arm, and searing pain spread through him, even as the lost limb began to regrow. Mech-Head retreated, but Faeryn pulled out another dagger, seemingly from nowhere, and lodged it firmly in his chest.
She withdrew suddenly, taking her daggers with her. Mech-Head took a step back, fiery hatred burning in his single living eye, while his mechanic one glared with what seemed to be fury. He held his regrowing arm close, covering it with his other.
"You little... Bitch!" He growled. "When I'm done with Valentine and that machine, I'm coming after YOU!" He hissed, spreading his wings.
Faeryn turned around, exposing her back to him.
"If humans could kill you, even if they were Sephiroth and Valentine, then you bring great shame to your family, Jazac Na. They would be ashamed if they were not gone. You have no honour."
Mech-Head was boiling with rage now. Honour was something in high regard among demons, and even that fool Nox Seran would wage war if someone said he had no honour. Demons were proud, if only their means of existence unconventional.
"I will hunt them down, at this very moment, and bring their heads! And then I will take yours! Wait, and you will see!" He screeched, and took wing. He beat his wings in the direction the Highwind had taken, hastily trying to sense the presense of Vincent Valentine, and the huge quantity of Krotonite that was Seph X's body.
Unfotunately, Seph X was further to the south. Mech-Head paused uncertainly in the air, trying to make up his mind about his to hunt first. Vincent, or Seph X? He decided to head South, and take care of old business first. He and Seph X had an old grudge to settle out, no matter how many times he had to die to settle it.
Seph X would bleed... wait, that was wrong.
Seph X WOULDN'T bleed, but if he had been alive, THEN he would bleed. Wait a second...
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At that very second, Seph X was pondering the science of rust. And why it managed to claim his broadsword, but not the Massamune, even when he had taken a boat with it, and the broadsword being indoors. He inspected its brown edges with a critical, disgusted eye. He then proceeded to bend its blade like butter, before finally deciding to toss it. He pulled out the Massamune, tried top bend its surface. And, with a smile, couldn't bend it. Hojo hadn't been able to completely recreate Krotonite after all. Even now, the Massamune was unbend-able even by his grasp. If it was the only good thing he could say about Mech-Head, it was that he knew how to make a decent weapon. The Massamune was truly a remarkable weapon...
There came a knock from the door. Seph X jumped at the sound, particularly from knowing that his house lay on top of cliff which lay a long way out of anyone's way. At first he was suspicious, but on second thought he realized that Cloud might have come back. He sat up from his hard couch (he only bothered to get one as it consumed less energy to sit and think than to stand and think, which was pretty muchly what he did in his spare time. What do you think a computer with limbs and a personality did in its free time?) And opened the door.
Seph X gasped at the apparition he saw, and quickly reached for the Massamune.
There stood Mech-Head, grinning maliciously. Before Seph X's hand even made it to the handle of the Massamune, Mech-Head slashed outwards with his claws. They raked through the machines chest, and sparks flew as they tore out. His hand clasped around the sword hilt, But Mech-Head was already making his second move. While the hand that slashed him moved away from him, the other jabbed forward, right into his neck.
Sharp, electronic pain roared through Seph X, as Mech-Head twisted his hand around.
Seph X felt the body below his neck suddenly go limp, and then he could feel it at all. His sight shimmered, and fuzzed up.
"You weren't expecting me? Not expecting ME, of all people, not to come back from the grave and hunt you down like the scum you are?"
Seph X sneered suddenly, making a last effort insult his lifelong enemy.
"Bite me, freak."
Mech-Head smiled wickedly.
"My pleasure."
His fangs, which had been fitted over his lips instead of in his mouth, gouged deep into Seph X's face.
And the world went black around him, and his artificial existence ended abruptly.
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Jarred snapped his eyes open suddenly, his red eyes flaring suddenly. Faint memories of demons, pain, blood, and the Blight came back to him in. But most importantly, he remembered telling Elena to run. And if he told her to run, then something terrible must have happened.
"Where is Elena?" He demanded loudly, expecting to see Wraith or Ghost in front of him. Instead, he woke up Joan.
"Whassat, daddy?" She asked sleepily, pushing herself into a sitting position.
Jarred sat up as well, rubbing his eyes. He looked around, studying his surroundings. The chocobo stall on the Highwind? When had he gotten here? WHAT was he doing here? Where was Elena? Where ghost? A thousand questions roared through his mind, and the thought of blowing them up didn't look like it would help too much. They looked like the kind of questions that would come back from the grave to haunt him.
"Uhm, honey, would you happen to know where the lady with blonde hair is?" Jarred asked, trying to put at least one of his questions to rest.
Joan grinned.
"Well, she came in here a while ago, wondering where you were, and when she saw you she went away. I was sleepy so I went to bed here with you." He said, still a but sleepy. She yawned. "What are we gonna do now? Shopping?" The little girl beside Jarred brightened up suddenly at the thought.
Jarred shook his head.
"We only go shopping when we need something. 'Sides, there isn't a shop here." He said, standing up. "Has anyone else been here?"
As if to punctuate him, the door to the stall opened suddenly, and Wraith strode in.
"GLAD TO SEE YOU'RE UP." He remarked mentally.
Jarred scowled.
"Joan, sweetie, could you go and play with Elena for a while? The blonde haired lady?"
Joan nodded, and skipped away, laughing to herself. Jarred scowled at Wraith as his 'daughter' left.
"What do you want?" He demanded, all kindness leaving him. Ghost was fun, and Spectre was alright, but Wraith was a bastard. "I trust you know what I had to do to defend myself?"
Wraith smiled.
"SHE WAS RATHER PLEASED TO SEE THAT YOU'RE AFFINITY FOR MAGIC HAS... INCREASED. SHE HAS CONSIDERED TEACHING YOU HERSELF. I MYSELF WAS RATHER ASTOUNDED THAT YOU SURVIVED SUCH A DRAIN. CONGRATULATIONS. YOU MAY BE THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS YET."
Jarred frowned deeply at this, but said nothing.
"YOU DO REALIZE WE HAVE TO GO BACK SOON. IT WAS ALRIGHT AT FIRST, WHEN YOU'RE POWER WAS WEAKER, BUT NOW YOU MUST BE BROUGHT BACK. TOO MUCH IS AT RISK. SHE DEMANDS YOUR PRESENCE."
Jarred stood up, noticing his dangerous lack of weapons. But then again, there was one weapon that no one could remove...
The young warrior summoned a blue globe in his hands, and raised it to eye height.
"Are you this determined?" He asked menacingly, and the globe dissolved into blue fire.
Wraith put his hand around his sword hilt. His eyes slitted ominously, and his pupils seemed to blaze into to pits of black oblivion.
"I am a Genocider, Jarred." He said, not using telepathy. His voice was filled with a hardness beyond that which Jarred could ever use. He drew his long blade, and ran a finger down its blade. Runes were etched into its edge, runes of fear and power. "We both know what this could do to either of us, Jarred. And it is in my hands now." Menace and command were in his voice, and hardness in his eyes. Wraith oozed with command, and had means to ensure it.
Jarred let his flame dissolve, and smiled.
"At least you don't obey my every whim anymore, Wraith. I will go back, if only to see what she has planned for Psin."
Wraith's face scrunched up with hatred.
"An execution, hopefully. The scum deserves nothing better."
Jarred's humour jolted upwards suddenly, and a genuine laugh came from him. He wrapped an arm around Wraith's shoulder, and led him out of the chocobo stall.
"At least there's SOMETHING we can agree on. But if anyone gets to kill Psin, then its me." He said lightly. Wraith stared at the young warrior with confusion.
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Aeris snorted.
"So? There aren't any Half-Breeds left! They're all dead!" She said, looking at Kahn strangely. "Who cares if they built any temples."
Kahn snapped his head in her direction,
"How many shoes do I need to get hit by for you to realize that Half-Breeds DO exist?!" He snapped, and turned his attention back to Nox Seran. "Where are they?" He demanded.
Nox Serna grinned, and laughed.
"Kahn, YOU, of all people, should know that nobody knows where they are! They pulled one hell of a Houdini act on us!" He laughed. "They managed to convince the world that they were dead, until some HUMAN intervenes."
Kahn frowned, but kept his peace. There was a look of pained regret, tinged with burning rage towards the snake demon. Nox Seran merely pulled out his mallet, and shouldered it.
"I suppose we could ask them where they're hiding, though." He said with a grin.
"What are you talking about?" Kahn snapped, glaring at Nox Seran.
"How many shoes do you need to be hit for you to realize what's throwing them at you?" He said, throwing Kahn's own words back at him. "I say we ask Jarred. Jarred Rath." He said, looking suggestingly at Kahn. The demon lord snorted, and stalked away, spreading his scaly wings behind him. Nox Seran narrowed his eyes slightly, and continued on. "The Prince Of Darkness should know where his people hide."
Kahn faltered in his step, shaken somewhat by what Nox Seran said, but continued on out of the room. But everyone couldn't help but notice his increase in speed.
Nox Seran frowned deeply.
~How far does your betrayal go, Kahn? Have you gone as far as to join HER?~ He thought musingly, and turned back to AVALANCHE, laughing insanely. ~It seems I might have to use my little black-skinned friend once more.~
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There are few pleasures that match the one of being distracted from a war meeting by the maniacal laughter of an insane, vengeance hungry demon. In fact, such pleasures are only considered pleasurable only among the strangest of people. Needless to say, the Shadowlord wasn't one of them. He slashed his way through a guard to confront Mech-Head as he ranted in his insane laughter. In his hands he held the Massamune, a blade forged long ago during the war between Ancients and Demons. In the other, he held the severed head of Seph X, the mechanical clone of Sephiroth, the man who had killed Jazac Na and stolen the Massamune so many years ago.
The Shadowlord looked at the demon with disgust. Faeryn Rath appeared by his side, and gave him a pleading look, drawing her twin daggers. The Shadowlord hesitated for a second, but only a second, before nodding. Faeryn grinned, and approached Mech-Head.
"Hey, wonder boy?" She asked, and Mech-Head turned to face her.
Faeryn switched the daggers in her hands, so that they pointed downwards. Mech-Head grinned, and made as if to slash downwards with the Massamune. Faeryn Jabbed her daggers into Mech-Heads stomach, and pulled each one in a different direction. Mech-Head was sliced in two as those daggers ripped his lower body away. His upper body dropped to the ground, while he howled in pain, and his legs stood awkwardly before toppling over themselves. Faeryn grinned with something akin to satisfaction, mixed with superiority.
While Mech-Head howled in pain, even while his legs regenerated from his waist, the Shadowlord plucked the Massamune from his writhing grasp. He inspected it disdainfully, and tossed it next to Mech-Head.
"It is good to see that you have slain one of your enemies, Jazac Na, but if you ever disturb me again I will dispose of you myself." He growled, and turned to get back to his war meeting.
Mech-Head had grown his legs back up to the knees, and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He was in a berserker rage now, his eyes, both mechanical and flesh, flared red darkly. He slashed his claws against the ground, but kept his peace. Angering the Shadowlord showed little will to live. And there were worse things than death when it came to the Shadowlord, and such things could become reality at the slightest irritation.
"Yes, my lord." He said with strained patience, glaring at Faeryn.
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Psin sat in the queen's presence, flinching inwardly as she coolly reprimanded him.
"I can't say that I am completely against you Psin, but you could have intervened to stop Jarred from using the Blight spell." He silvery, melodious voice said.
Psin was in a kneeling position, with his head down, and a hand resting on his sword hilt. On his belt he carried the bag of bones he had collected.
"I did not know Jarred had the power to use the Blight, my liege. I, I wasn't aware he had that great potential."
"He is the Prince Of Darkness, Psin. You will do well never to put anything above him. Magic is an instinct to him, not a skill."
Psin frowned but kept his peace. ~Jarred this, and Jarred that.~ He thought spitefully. ~Jarred can wield easily, can you Psin? Jarred can use the Blight, can you Psin? Jarred is the Prince Of Darkness, and he can do WONDERFUL things! Well, Jarred could just stick it.~
"I will remember that, my queen. What is your will?"
"Oh, nothing for the moment. Keep Kahn out of trouble, would you? He's only useful to me alive, and I'd hate to see Wraith kill him."
Psin was a bit displeased in the way he was being used as a means to keep demons out of trouble, but outwardly smiled.
"As a chain binds, so I obey." He said. He had no idea where he had pulled it out from, but it seemed the appropriate thing to see. He faded, and vanished.
As he teleported away, the queen was left alone.
"Chains, eh? That gives me a nice idea..." She muttered absently. "A whip would not be unwelcome either..." She added with a grin.
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okay, that last bit wasn't aimed to offend anyone, but more as a way fro me to get my giggles 'n' larks. If you odn't like it, then too bad.
