NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! Its over! My wonderful vacation is
oveeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrr!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*Sniff* I guess I can't complain. I DID apply for school, I guess I can't complain when I have to suffer the homework. But I can still bitch and moan about! (There is a fine line between complain and bitch-ing/moaning. When you complain you well, complain, and you bitch and moan, you're just, erm, bitching and, err, moaning. Ok, so maybe there isn't that much of a difference! Bite me! Wait, no, don't! Back! Argh! My ARM!)
And I took a peek at my stats, and noticed (With some horror) that this fic has risen to become the longest one yet. (I words, not chapters. PFTD reigns superior in that region. But not for long! Bwuhahaha!)
Today's chapter iz called 'get ready for this', and whereas I'm not too sure who made it, if you haven't even HEARD it ONCE, then I'm going to have to advise you to crawl out of the abysmal cave your living in and download that song. I have great faith that EvErYbOdY has heard that song. ANYWAY,
Erm, ja.
(As to the threat about hordes of chibis, Natsumi, well they got NUTHIN' to my hordes of demons! Ha!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter XXXI: Get Ready For This
Rage.
Anger.
Pain.
And a nasty cut that had gotten infected when the Shadowlord had hit the ground, skidding and then obliterating a tree whose only fault had been to be in his path of falling. Needless to say, the Shadowlord wasn't angry. Angry wasn't adequate. You would have to INVENT a new word to describe how severely pissed the Shadowlord was, and no matter how versatile the demon language was, it couldn't fully sustain the gruesome curses that came out in a veritable diarrhoea*of all the negative words in every language. Even Mech-Head hadn't come close to the massive rage that could be felt a mile away and make people in a coma wake up from a nightmare.
And the anger manifested itself into his figure. The crude symbol on the Shadowlord's forehead changed from 'Mean' to 'Vile' with a flash of crimson light. His fingers spontaneously got longer and sharp, turning into claws of a fashion, while a wickedly hooked tail sprouted from the back of his spine, and a tail had sprouted from the back of his spine, which was long and had a scythe like hook on the tip, which he whipped around pointedly. Many trees had suffered a fate not worth describing, facing that hooked tail.
Mech-Head approached the enraged Shadowlord, followed closely by Chaos, and the rest of the Council.
The Shadowlord whirled on Mech-Head.
"Malice is still alive, yes? Living inside that human's head? Activate him! NOW!" He roared, pointing fixedly at Mech-Head. "The stupid Half-Breeds are using the Villis Me Ka! We're going to have to use all the advantages we can use!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somewhere inside the Spire, Reno shifted, a headache attacked his thoughts maliciously. A phantasmal foot kicked his head with a pointy boot, only serving to make his head hurt all the more. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"It has already begun, my lord." Mech-Head said, more in fear than loyalty. Watch your deity point its clawed finger at you and see how well you took it. "It is impossible to fully... quell the beast. He is very strong, after all."
"Help him along, then!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pushing the pain in his head away, dismissing it as a hangover, Reno sat up and looked at his surroundings. For some reason he felt very angry all of a sudden.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I will do this, my lord!" The steel demon said meekly, for the first time in his life openly showing fear. "Anything for you!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He blinked, and looked at the room around him. Was he still drunk? Why was everything red?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mech-Head closed his eyes, and tried to bring the mind of the demon known as Malice to his own consciousness.
~I awaken, master. I awaken to fight against he who destroyed us. Vincent Valentine must die.~ The hissing, shockingly toothy voice of Malice said. ~And the black skinned ones must perish as well. Too strong. Too many.~
"Awaken, then, demon. Awaken and let the humans feel the touch of death, the touch of a demon!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The head-ache returned with vengeance, splitting his head with pain. He fell to his knees, clutching his skull as if he was afraid it might split apart.
Something was coming.
He didn't know what it was, but he had the impression that something was arising inside him, something big, and dark.
Something evil.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~I live again!~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The loud roar echoing around the infinite hallway was all the could be heard, effectively pulling Jarred and Elena out of their own secluded world. Jarred's eyes lit up, as the prospect of battle appeared, and strangely, Elena felt a quirk of battle hunger arise in herself as well. A yearn to be able to prove that she was superior. Jarred leapt for his axe and claw, slightly downcast that he didn't have his dagger but not dwelling on the idea for very long.
Elena looked at her own weapons. A pistol, and a few Materia globes. Not exactly weapons for close combat, unless you were hoping to run out of bullets when your opponent was ready to open up a can of whoop-ass. Her eyes strayed to the weapons lining the wall, each one bring a small smile to her face. By the time she had seen them all her lips threatened to cut off the top half of her head.
"Take anything you want," Jarred said, as if reading her mind. "Just be careful to put it back. They're not mine, after all." And pushed the door open, dashing through it.
Elena grabbed the closest pointy object, which happened to be a double edged sword. It looked like a staff which turned into a sword at both ends. But it could cause some damage, she reasoned, and pulled it off its nails, and followed after Jarred.
She had to admit, now that she had her... enhancements, she could understand how the hallways worked much more clearly. And was sure her footfalls hadn't been so... Loud when she had been a human. It seemed like she was stomping around even when she was trying her best to run silently.
Somewhere in the Spire, Jarred roared out a blood thirsty war cry. She felt her blood boiling, and a growl came unbidden from her throat, and she clutched her weapon all the tighter. She rounded a corner, and saw Jarred throw his hand axe at something.
It was a pale white, she could see, and it kind of looked like Vincent's first transformation, the Galian Beast, but without a tail and with wings, and for some reason a great silvery mane that traversed down from its head to the very end of it spine. Long claws scraped evilly against the ancient floor, while feet that looked like all it had for toes were talons pierced the floor itself.
"You!" It hissed, dodging the axe as it spun by. "You were at my mercy at Midgar!"
Elena suddenly recognized the pale demon, as one of the horrors that had ravaged Midgar during the Siege.
Malice.
Unarmed except for the claw on his arm, Jarred boldly faced the demon down, a grin on his face. He went down into a crouch.
"I allowed it, just like I allowed the Shadowlord to plant his filthy claw inside me, to channel the power." He said slyly. "But I don't need to anymore."
Black flames erupted around him, seemingly searing all around him, but not harming anything. Instead of pointing, however, he launched himself forward.
Elena ran beside him, wielding the double edged sword with instinctive skill. It could be said for Malice that he took it all in stride, and even managed to dodge a few blows before one of the two managed to hit him (Elena), while the other bashed his skull. The demon recoiled, head spinning.
"I seem to have underestimated you." It growled, putting a hand to its head.
Showing no mercy, Jarred slashed out with the clawed glove. In a frantic motion, Malice brought his hand to try and bloc the blow. Jarred tore right through it, carving a hole through its who hand. Malice roared in pain, even as Jarred pulled out his hand sneering suddenly.
"Blood for blood, demon," He growled, holding up his left hand. "Half- Breeds repay debts in full."
Malice looked down at his horribly mutilated appendage blood flowing freely, fingers hanging limply. He brought his other hand over it, and the familiar glow of healing magic enveloped him. When it faded, the demon pulled up the once damaged hand, and frowned at the terrible scar that was all the remained of the wound. He flexed it experimentally, wincing with pain.
Elena felt it was time for something to happen once more; She was getting bored. The double edged swords flashed in her hands as she slashed out, seeking to decapitate Malice in one swipe. The demon saw the blow coming, and ducked under the blade, kicking Elena in the knee as he did. A loud, wet snap was audible and pain rocketed through like a thousand daggers, and she fell. Jarred was there in a second, fighting once more, but this time to protect her.
"Run," He hissed urgently through clenched teeth. "Run, dammit!"
And then something terrible happened. Taking a step forward, and onto the small pool of blood left by the opening in Malice's hand, Jarred slipped. Malice saw his chance, and slashed at his exposed face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kahn heard the loud roar, but coolly ignored it. It wasn't his affair. Not unless it had some magical way of breaking the steel manacles on his hands. He was really regretting storming out like that, now.
Let the fools run forwards to be killed, and let those wiser face a weakened foe. However, if those wiser had their hands chained behind them, then it was still an unfair handicap.
He tried to break the manacles with his strength once more.
Nope, they were pretty strong, those manacles. Shakal certainly had decent imprisonment instruments, he had to admit. Nobody could summon chains like she could. Must be the sickening experiences se had with them. Kahn chose to ignore the fact that most of those experiences had been with him, and he had had a smile on his face at the time. Yes, he ignored that part.
"Need some help?"
Kahn whirled around, to look at the scandalously garbed young woman, smiling slightly to herself. His answer, of course, was the answer every demon says to any Half-Breed when under the influence of anger, which turned out to be:
"Not from YOU!" He hissed darkly, continuing down the hallway.
"It wouldn't kill you to show some humility." She growled back in return, and then sniggering. "I can see I've got a lot more of you in me the mother suspects." She laughed.
Kahn whirled around.
"What are you talking about?!" He snapped. "Aren't you spawned from that poker-eyed pillar of cruelty?!"
Kahn noticed, with increasing disgust, that the woman had even DECREASED in clothing, if that was at all possible. She seemed to be prancing around with the bear minimum, now. He shuddered internally, for some reason.
She sniggered.
"Wraith? HIM? The man is hardly over thirty! *I'M* older than he is!" She laughed.
"Oh, great, then I guess your mother's been busier than I first thought." Sneering, he bore his wicked fangs at her. "Run away before I decide sanctuary isn't worth the temptation."
The young woman smiled at him, and flicked her hand, with the same delicate precision as a sledge hammer, and the steel manacles clanged to the floor behind him.
"You amuse me." She said coolly, and then, as if suddenly remembering something, she scrunched her face up in disdain. "Oh CRAP!" Cursing, she frantically wielded magic, and tried her best to distract Kahn. "Oh, look, its Nox Seran!"
It didn't work. Kahn stared intently as she worked her magic. She shrank in size, until she was the height of a small child, and then, slowly, her skin changed from silvery white to a charcoal black, eyes going from blue to red. And, to Kahn's astonishment, her clothes had mysteriously changed into a dark blue dress suitable for a child. The image of a child, innocent in every way, looked up at him, a pleading look in her eyes.
"Please don't tell Jarred." She pleaded desperately. "I just want to get close to him..." She dashed down the hallway, rounded a corner, and disappeared.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aeris, the whole of Avalanche, and Reeve had teamed up with Shakal, and the three warriors to try and figure out some sort of solution to the problem of reviving dead people. Only, the human majority couldn't really contribute anything, seeming how they had rather limited knowledge of magic and the Lifestream.
"Right," Shakal began imperiously. "What you want is to have your body back."
Aeris sighed. For some reason, they couldn't quite get around the idea that she was dead.
"I want to live again, yes." She said patiently, flicking a stray strand of brown hair away.
An equally patient silence arose from the magical half of the group, most smiling. Of course, Wraith frowned, and Ghost was checking her out, but the others, consisting of Spectre and Shakal, smiled tightly, and kept their silence. It was enough to make a rock explode, the way they seemed to pity her ignorance. Spectre stood up seriously, like a professor did when teaching a particularly thick class, and looked like he was going to enlighten them with some of his knowledge. Of course, he only LOOKED like he would.
Spectre cackled.
"You ARE alive!" He shouted, pointing at Aeris. "You speak, you feel, and you spout nonsense! The only thing you lack is physical form! GODS, I can't BELIEVE how stupid some people are! You're not dead until your soul is in the Lifestream!"
Aeris huffed, angered by this. Who wouldn't be? He just shouted out that she was STUPID like it should have been printed in the 'facts of life'.
"So? I haven't had the advantage of living with hoards of ancient knowledge! The only things I learned were from listening to what the planet said to me!" She hissed, standing up as well. From his safe place on the other side of the room, Ghost leered at her, standing on his tippy-toes to get a look at her cleavage.
Help came from the least likely of places.
"Sit DOWN, Spectre!" Wraith commanded loudly. The blue eyed man looked over his shoulder, and slumped dejectedly in his chair once again. Wraith turned to Aeris, and while he wasn't glaring at her, the temperature could have dropped to zero by the way he looked at her. "Please forgive Spectre. Our kind is naturally impatient and arrogant, Spectre being a more than suiting example." He explained. "Just try not to repeat yourself unless asked, and we should get along." Shakal looked over at Wraith with a pleased smile, examining him while he had her back to him.
He turned to Spectre, and the blue eyed man stood up once more, rigidly.
"Explain, with no insults." Wraith said, and returned to his seat, which had shifted mysteriously next to Shakal's.
Spectre sighed, and conjured up an image of Aeris.
"It si widely known, among Half-Breeds," He said this deliberately, looking at all around him. "That there is two aspects of living. Physical, and metaphysical." The image split, one image showing Aeris's insides, the other showing a ghostly image of her. "We live physically, while Aeris lives metaphysically, a ghost if you will. In essence, nothing truly dies, it merely becomes another living thing, but we define this as death. Aeris is merely a disembodied soul, unable to merge with the Lifestream, but still quite dead." The 'body' of Aeris decayed and shrivelled, while the ghostly image remained. "Among out people, such happenings are blessed occasions, the person in question becoming of highest rank. Most of our generals were already dead." He coughed, suddenly nervous. "But moving on to the task at hand. Our Cetra friend here wants to exist physically once more, which is kind of tricky. We don't know how."
And eerie silence settled over the motley assembly. Spectre was cracking at the lips, fighting the urge to laugh madly at them.
"Excuse me," He said politely, looking fixedly at Wraith, and quickly retreated out of the room.
Somewhere outside the door, someone was giggling fatuously. This didn't exactly bring a lot of heart into them all. Vincent sighed loudly, and Cloud shook his head. Wraith remained rigidly devoid of life, while Ghost was now looking at Tifa. Shakal stood up, brushing her braid behind her.
"While we do not know how we are to do this," She said, reassuringly. "We are indeed trying to remedy this. Our finest minds are on the matter this moment." Spectre was still giggling to himself outside, as if to prove her wrong. "NOT spectre."
A collective sigh was heaved at this.
The doors opened suddenly, and the man who had called himself Psin stepped in boldly. A deep frown was on his face, while he stared at the collection around him.
"Where is the Prince Of Darkness?!" He demanded, putting a hand on his sword-hilt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*: I'm slightly proud of being able to say, that I *couldn't* spell that word the first of couple of attempts. I am *NOT* a dictionary, nor do I aspire to become one.
Erm, I'm really sorry this one's short, but I really can't think of anything to add right now. If you have any specific details you want me to focus on, or just something that's just begging to be finished, just tell me.
And school started two days ago, for me. Can't say I'm too pleased 'bout that. School is a cesspool for evil, where only the truly vile gather, like... Like TEACHERS. Yeah! Review. Or the god of Petie-ism will be forced to do some smiting. Smoting. Blae.
*Sniff* I guess I can't complain. I DID apply for school, I guess I can't complain when I have to suffer the homework. But I can still bitch and moan about! (There is a fine line between complain and bitch-ing/moaning. When you complain you well, complain, and you bitch and moan, you're just, erm, bitching and, err, moaning. Ok, so maybe there isn't that much of a difference! Bite me! Wait, no, don't! Back! Argh! My ARM!)
And I took a peek at my stats, and noticed (With some horror) that this fic has risen to become the longest one yet. (I words, not chapters. PFTD reigns superior in that region. But not for long! Bwuhahaha!)
Today's chapter iz called 'get ready for this', and whereas I'm not too sure who made it, if you haven't even HEARD it ONCE, then I'm going to have to advise you to crawl out of the abysmal cave your living in and download that song. I have great faith that EvErYbOdY has heard that song. ANYWAY,
Erm, ja.
(As to the threat about hordes of chibis, Natsumi, well they got NUTHIN' to my hordes of demons! Ha!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter XXXI: Get Ready For This
Rage.
Anger.
Pain.
And a nasty cut that had gotten infected when the Shadowlord had hit the ground, skidding and then obliterating a tree whose only fault had been to be in his path of falling. Needless to say, the Shadowlord wasn't angry. Angry wasn't adequate. You would have to INVENT a new word to describe how severely pissed the Shadowlord was, and no matter how versatile the demon language was, it couldn't fully sustain the gruesome curses that came out in a veritable diarrhoea*of all the negative words in every language. Even Mech-Head hadn't come close to the massive rage that could be felt a mile away and make people in a coma wake up from a nightmare.
And the anger manifested itself into his figure. The crude symbol on the Shadowlord's forehead changed from 'Mean' to 'Vile' with a flash of crimson light. His fingers spontaneously got longer and sharp, turning into claws of a fashion, while a wickedly hooked tail sprouted from the back of his spine, and a tail had sprouted from the back of his spine, which was long and had a scythe like hook on the tip, which he whipped around pointedly. Many trees had suffered a fate not worth describing, facing that hooked tail.
Mech-Head approached the enraged Shadowlord, followed closely by Chaos, and the rest of the Council.
The Shadowlord whirled on Mech-Head.
"Malice is still alive, yes? Living inside that human's head? Activate him! NOW!" He roared, pointing fixedly at Mech-Head. "The stupid Half-Breeds are using the Villis Me Ka! We're going to have to use all the advantages we can use!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somewhere inside the Spire, Reno shifted, a headache attacked his thoughts maliciously. A phantasmal foot kicked his head with a pointy boot, only serving to make his head hurt all the more. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"It has already begun, my lord." Mech-Head said, more in fear than loyalty. Watch your deity point its clawed finger at you and see how well you took it. "It is impossible to fully... quell the beast. He is very strong, after all."
"Help him along, then!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pushing the pain in his head away, dismissing it as a hangover, Reno sat up and looked at his surroundings. For some reason he felt very angry all of a sudden.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I will do this, my lord!" The steel demon said meekly, for the first time in his life openly showing fear. "Anything for you!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He blinked, and looked at the room around him. Was he still drunk? Why was everything red?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mech-Head closed his eyes, and tried to bring the mind of the demon known as Malice to his own consciousness.
~I awaken, master. I awaken to fight against he who destroyed us. Vincent Valentine must die.~ The hissing, shockingly toothy voice of Malice said. ~And the black skinned ones must perish as well. Too strong. Too many.~
"Awaken, then, demon. Awaken and let the humans feel the touch of death, the touch of a demon!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The head-ache returned with vengeance, splitting his head with pain. He fell to his knees, clutching his skull as if he was afraid it might split apart.
Something was coming.
He didn't know what it was, but he had the impression that something was arising inside him, something big, and dark.
Something evil.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~I live again!~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The loud roar echoing around the infinite hallway was all the could be heard, effectively pulling Jarred and Elena out of their own secluded world. Jarred's eyes lit up, as the prospect of battle appeared, and strangely, Elena felt a quirk of battle hunger arise in herself as well. A yearn to be able to prove that she was superior. Jarred leapt for his axe and claw, slightly downcast that he didn't have his dagger but not dwelling on the idea for very long.
Elena looked at her own weapons. A pistol, and a few Materia globes. Not exactly weapons for close combat, unless you were hoping to run out of bullets when your opponent was ready to open up a can of whoop-ass. Her eyes strayed to the weapons lining the wall, each one bring a small smile to her face. By the time she had seen them all her lips threatened to cut off the top half of her head.
"Take anything you want," Jarred said, as if reading her mind. "Just be careful to put it back. They're not mine, after all." And pushed the door open, dashing through it.
Elena grabbed the closest pointy object, which happened to be a double edged sword. It looked like a staff which turned into a sword at both ends. But it could cause some damage, she reasoned, and pulled it off its nails, and followed after Jarred.
She had to admit, now that she had her... enhancements, she could understand how the hallways worked much more clearly. And was sure her footfalls hadn't been so... Loud when she had been a human. It seemed like she was stomping around even when she was trying her best to run silently.
Somewhere in the Spire, Jarred roared out a blood thirsty war cry. She felt her blood boiling, and a growl came unbidden from her throat, and she clutched her weapon all the tighter. She rounded a corner, and saw Jarred throw his hand axe at something.
It was a pale white, she could see, and it kind of looked like Vincent's first transformation, the Galian Beast, but without a tail and with wings, and for some reason a great silvery mane that traversed down from its head to the very end of it spine. Long claws scraped evilly against the ancient floor, while feet that looked like all it had for toes were talons pierced the floor itself.
"You!" It hissed, dodging the axe as it spun by. "You were at my mercy at Midgar!"
Elena suddenly recognized the pale demon, as one of the horrors that had ravaged Midgar during the Siege.
Malice.
Unarmed except for the claw on his arm, Jarred boldly faced the demon down, a grin on his face. He went down into a crouch.
"I allowed it, just like I allowed the Shadowlord to plant his filthy claw inside me, to channel the power." He said slyly. "But I don't need to anymore."
Black flames erupted around him, seemingly searing all around him, but not harming anything. Instead of pointing, however, he launched himself forward.
Elena ran beside him, wielding the double edged sword with instinctive skill. It could be said for Malice that he took it all in stride, and even managed to dodge a few blows before one of the two managed to hit him (Elena), while the other bashed his skull. The demon recoiled, head spinning.
"I seem to have underestimated you." It growled, putting a hand to its head.
Showing no mercy, Jarred slashed out with the clawed glove. In a frantic motion, Malice brought his hand to try and bloc the blow. Jarred tore right through it, carving a hole through its who hand. Malice roared in pain, even as Jarred pulled out his hand sneering suddenly.
"Blood for blood, demon," He growled, holding up his left hand. "Half- Breeds repay debts in full."
Malice looked down at his horribly mutilated appendage blood flowing freely, fingers hanging limply. He brought his other hand over it, and the familiar glow of healing magic enveloped him. When it faded, the demon pulled up the once damaged hand, and frowned at the terrible scar that was all the remained of the wound. He flexed it experimentally, wincing with pain.
Elena felt it was time for something to happen once more; She was getting bored. The double edged swords flashed in her hands as she slashed out, seeking to decapitate Malice in one swipe. The demon saw the blow coming, and ducked under the blade, kicking Elena in the knee as he did. A loud, wet snap was audible and pain rocketed through like a thousand daggers, and she fell. Jarred was there in a second, fighting once more, but this time to protect her.
"Run," He hissed urgently through clenched teeth. "Run, dammit!"
And then something terrible happened. Taking a step forward, and onto the small pool of blood left by the opening in Malice's hand, Jarred slipped. Malice saw his chance, and slashed at his exposed face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kahn heard the loud roar, but coolly ignored it. It wasn't his affair. Not unless it had some magical way of breaking the steel manacles on his hands. He was really regretting storming out like that, now.
Let the fools run forwards to be killed, and let those wiser face a weakened foe. However, if those wiser had their hands chained behind them, then it was still an unfair handicap.
He tried to break the manacles with his strength once more.
Nope, they were pretty strong, those manacles. Shakal certainly had decent imprisonment instruments, he had to admit. Nobody could summon chains like she could. Must be the sickening experiences se had with them. Kahn chose to ignore the fact that most of those experiences had been with him, and he had had a smile on his face at the time. Yes, he ignored that part.
"Need some help?"
Kahn whirled around, to look at the scandalously garbed young woman, smiling slightly to herself. His answer, of course, was the answer every demon says to any Half-Breed when under the influence of anger, which turned out to be:
"Not from YOU!" He hissed darkly, continuing down the hallway.
"It wouldn't kill you to show some humility." She growled back in return, and then sniggering. "I can see I've got a lot more of you in me the mother suspects." She laughed.
Kahn whirled around.
"What are you talking about?!" He snapped. "Aren't you spawned from that poker-eyed pillar of cruelty?!"
Kahn noticed, with increasing disgust, that the woman had even DECREASED in clothing, if that was at all possible. She seemed to be prancing around with the bear minimum, now. He shuddered internally, for some reason.
She sniggered.
"Wraith? HIM? The man is hardly over thirty! *I'M* older than he is!" She laughed.
"Oh, great, then I guess your mother's been busier than I first thought." Sneering, he bore his wicked fangs at her. "Run away before I decide sanctuary isn't worth the temptation."
The young woman smiled at him, and flicked her hand, with the same delicate precision as a sledge hammer, and the steel manacles clanged to the floor behind him.
"You amuse me." She said coolly, and then, as if suddenly remembering something, she scrunched her face up in disdain. "Oh CRAP!" Cursing, she frantically wielded magic, and tried her best to distract Kahn. "Oh, look, its Nox Seran!"
It didn't work. Kahn stared intently as she worked her magic. She shrank in size, until she was the height of a small child, and then, slowly, her skin changed from silvery white to a charcoal black, eyes going from blue to red. And, to Kahn's astonishment, her clothes had mysteriously changed into a dark blue dress suitable for a child. The image of a child, innocent in every way, looked up at him, a pleading look in her eyes.
"Please don't tell Jarred." She pleaded desperately. "I just want to get close to him..." She dashed down the hallway, rounded a corner, and disappeared.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aeris, the whole of Avalanche, and Reeve had teamed up with Shakal, and the three warriors to try and figure out some sort of solution to the problem of reviving dead people. Only, the human majority couldn't really contribute anything, seeming how they had rather limited knowledge of magic and the Lifestream.
"Right," Shakal began imperiously. "What you want is to have your body back."
Aeris sighed. For some reason, they couldn't quite get around the idea that she was dead.
"I want to live again, yes." She said patiently, flicking a stray strand of brown hair away.
An equally patient silence arose from the magical half of the group, most smiling. Of course, Wraith frowned, and Ghost was checking her out, but the others, consisting of Spectre and Shakal, smiled tightly, and kept their silence. It was enough to make a rock explode, the way they seemed to pity her ignorance. Spectre stood up seriously, like a professor did when teaching a particularly thick class, and looked like he was going to enlighten them with some of his knowledge. Of course, he only LOOKED like he would.
Spectre cackled.
"You ARE alive!" He shouted, pointing at Aeris. "You speak, you feel, and you spout nonsense! The only thing you lack is physical form! GODS, I can't BELIEVE how stupid some people are! You're not dead until your soul is in the Lifestream!"
Aeris huffed, angered by this. Who wouldn't be? He just shouted out that she was STUPID like it should have been printed in the 'facts of life'.
"So? I haven't had the advantage of living with hoards of ancient knowledge! The only things I learned were from listening to what the planet said to me!" She hissed, standing up as well. From his safe place on the other side of the room, Ghost leered at her, standing on his tippy-toes to get a look at her cleavage.
Help came from the least likely of places.
"Sit DOWN, Spectre!" Wraith commanded loudly. The blue eyed man looked over his shoulder, and slumped dejectedly in his chair once again. Wraith turned to Aeris, and while he wasn't glaring at her, the temperature could have dropped to zero by the way he looked at her. "Please forgive Spectre. Our kind is naturally impatient and arrogant, Spectre being a more than suiting example." He explained. "Just try not to repeat yourself unless asked, and we should get along." Shakal looked over at Wraith with a pleased smile, examining him while he had her back to him.
He turned to Spectre, and the blue eyed man stood up once more, rigidly.
"Explain, with no insults." Wraith said, and returned to his seat, which had shifted mysteriously next to Shakal's.
Spectre sighed, and conjured up an image of Aeris.
"It si widely known, among Half-Breeds," He said this deliberately, looking at all around him. "That there is two aspects of living. Physical, and metaphysical." The image split, one image showing Aeris's insides, the other showing a ghostly image of her. "We live physically, while Aeris lives metaphysically, a ghost if you will. In essence, nothing truly dies, it merely becomes another living thing, but we define this as death. Aeris is merely a disembodied soul, unable to merge with the Lifestream, but still quite dead." The 'body' of Aeris decayed and shrivelled, while the ghostly image remained. "Among out people, such happenings are blessed occasions, the person in question becoming of highest rank. Most of our generals were already dead." He coughed, suddenly nervous. "But moving on to the task at hand. Our Cetra friend here wants to exist physically once more, which is kind of tricky. We don't know how."
And eerie silence settled over the motley assembly. Spectre was cracking at the lips, fighting the urge to laugh madly at them.
"Excuse me," He said politely, looking fixedly at Wraith, and quickly retreated out of the room.
Somewhere outside the door, someone was giggling fatuously. This didn't exactly bring a lot of heart into them all. Vincent sighed loudly, and Cloud shook his head. Wraith remained rigidly devoid of life, while Ghost was now looking at Tifa. Shakal stood up, brushing her braid behind her.
"While we do not know how we are to do this," She said, reassuringly. "We are indeed trying to remedy this. Our finest minds are on the matter this moment." Spectre was still giggling to himself outside, as if to prove her wrong. "NOT spectre."
A collective sigh was heaved at this.
The doors opened suddenly, and the man who had called himself Psin stepped in boldly. A deep frown was on his face, while he stared at the collection around him.
"Where is the Prince Of Darkness?!" He demanded, putting a hand on his sword-hilt.
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*: I'm slightly proud of being able to say, that I *couldn't* spell that word the first of couple of attempts. I am *NOT* a dictionary, nor do I aspire to become one.
Erm, I'm really sorry this one's short, but I really can't think of anything to add right now. If you have any specific details you want me to focus on, or just something that's just begging to be finished, just tell me.
And school started two days ago, for me. Can't say I'm too pleased 'bout that. School is a cesspool for evil, where only the truly vile gather, like... Like TEACHERS. Yeah! Review. Or the god of Petie-ism will be forced to do some smiting. Smoting. Blae.
