melodiesofeternity | [Closed] Retrieval of Expensive Works of Engineering

That sounded logical to Snow White. No wonder Kuja had been talking about "death." If they were still on this planet, they would be wiped out whenever the other Kuja destroyed it.

Well, in theory. Snow White didn't exactly want to find out what would happen.

"How much time do we have left?" he asked, stepping beside Kuja onto the platform.

"Time enough," Kuja replies. He steps on the platform as well, the runes begin to glow... and the sensation of teleportation may be an unpleasant one, but when the party emerges, they stand in the entryway of a castle, all black stone in organic shapes, a long corridor ending in a staircase leading up.

"Ten minutes, perhaps. We'd best hurry. The castle is heavily populated with monsters, but pay them no mind; none of them are a threat to me, and I'm... not going to let anything happen to you." He takes off at a run, now, gathering a Flare spell in one hand, ready to release it at the first sign of trouble.

Regardless of Kuja's apparent world-ending strength, Ashelia draws her sword. As comforting as the protection of such a mage might be, she's not going to be caught by surprise this time around. She gives Snow White and Frisk cursory nods before taking off to follow Kuja. As they run, Ashelia extends another hand, casting Faith on the man in front of her. She may have mixed feelings about him at the moment, but she's not stupid - further bolstering his power will only help the group make it to the ship in time.

Frisk eyes bulge out at Kuja's casual display of power, but they keep running, spurred on by Ashelia's Hastega. Dammit, they were missing their Ninja speed more than ever now. And their SOUL Mage abilities appeared to be missing as well. Well, there was nothing to it but to try and figure out what they could do in Kuja's memories...

Grasping a power deep within themself, Frisk can feel their steel will harden into a shield for their allies. They raise their hand, and a red heart shines on the party as they cast Courage, raising the defense of all their allies. "Okay. That's... apparently a thing I can do here," they say, eyebrow raised.

That was... an odd feeling. Snow White hadn't been summoned in such a way in quite a while at this point. That was the only thing he could think of as equivalent to how they'd just traveled, yet no one held the Grimoire.

"How...?" he asked, brow furrowed as he ran to keep up with the others. "What kind of magic was that?"

Even with the asterisk system on Vaikuntha, he was getting used to strange new things. This wasn't Vaikuntha. Strangely enough, whatever Frisk just did seemed to surprise the child, too. So... that didn't seem to be from Vaikuntha, either.

Snow White wondered what he would be able to do here.

"Teleportation circle. Make a runic array, feed it a little mana, and everything within the circle is transported to a matching circle elsewhere."

The shield is appreciated, as Kuja climbs the stairs two at a time, keeping back enough to ensure that the others stay close but not slowing down by any means- "Observatory, observatory, where the hell is the observatory, gods it's been so long since I've been in this damned castle- here!"

Kuja rounds a corner, coming to a large chamber with a spiral staircase leading into the ceiling, crystals and instruments littering the walls, all seemingly monitoring some arcane process. The walls shake, and up above, there's a scream of pain that sounds... draconic. "Less than five minutes, probably. But we're close. Just up one level and then we're home free, I can get up to it and pilot it down."

As he climbs the stairs a final time, coming out onto a wide, raised platform on the roof of the castle overlooking a massive, crimson crystal, he has to stop for a moment. It's a sight from not all that long ago, as a bearded, elderly man in black armor, a crystalline orb pulsing in his chest like a heart, wages a pitched battle, eight-on-one- and, terrifyingly, holds his own with contemptuous ease. Perhaps it's something about the way the crystal in his chest seems to suck in the light around it, or the way he somehow seems more heavy than the group surrounding him-
A knight held aloft by psychokinetic force alone, choking.
A man with flame-red hair, on the ground, unmoving.
A young woman with a staff, bringing him back into the fight.
A slavering humanoid in a chef's hat, frozen in time.
Two children, a boy with a hat and a girl with a horn, bloody, exhausted, still trying to cast.
A ratlike woman with a spear, ripped out of the sky by a gravity spell.
And at the center of it all, a boy with a tail like Kuja's, charging with twin daggers at Garland, pink-red fur sprouting as his body glows with a furious light, forcing the old man backwards, to defend himself.

Kuja stares, for a moment, transfixed. He hadn't seen this before, hadn't paid much attention to it. He'd been... busy.

Overhead, the Hilda Garde approaches the looming Invincible.

Ashelia follows Kuja closely, feeling more and more uncomfortable the further into the castle they penetrate. She's only experienced stillness similar to this once before, and there was something (some things) extremely unpleasant waiting for her at the end of that particular trip. So, when she's confronted with the battle against Garland, she's only as surprised as any RPG protagonist might be. She spares a glance upwards. Two airships now? Hopefully Kuja knew which one they'd be able to commandeer.

"Kuja! Do they win? Should we intervene?" Business-minded as Ashelia might be, and with full knowledge that this is only a memory, she's still having trouble seeing those two children struggle so. "Which ship do we take? Kuja!"

Okay, that? Now that was terrifying. They instinctively take a step back, brushing a few stray hairs out of their face as they gulp. "Um, Kuja, who... who the hell is that? And, um, do we need to help those... those people?" Unfortunately, Frisk could hazard a guess--and maybe something more. They squint at the golem, calling upon that same power to Check Garland. "I'm all for, you know. Just hanging out and waiting to get on the ship and not messing with the crazy-looking tin tyrant."

"They win," comes the slightly-hoarse reply. Kuja pulls his attention away from Garland, a flicker of doubt showing in the old man's eyes as Zidane's assault continues, furious and unchecked, moving with inhuman speed- and already the others are rallying, joining the fray as Garland is forced further and further back.

Kuja looks up at the airships, knowing which one he's got to claim. "Please stay out of the way. I'll bring it down. We don't want to be here when everything goes wrong." He rises, then, propelled into the sky by force of magic alone. It was a trick he hadn't used often- it was taxing without the insane power of Trance, but he'd almost forgotten the simple elation of it, of being unconstrained by such petty concepts as gravity... but there's work to do. Already, the smaller airship is drifting, listing to the side without a pilot to hold the wheel.

On the ground, there's an explosion of lethal, violent energy, and Garland is thrown backwards, as the tailed boy's Trance fades, his body shaking with exertion... and as Kuja rises into the sky, there's an eerie symmetry, for a moment, as another Kuja descends, his face alight with a perverse glee.

The Reaper lands in front of Garland, laughing as though enjoying a private joke that nobody else has got yet.

"I must say... I truly adore you all."

Seeing that Kuja again, closer this time, more... vicious... It sent a shiver down Snow White's spine. That wasn't the Kuja he knew, but it was the Kuja that had been before. He needed to remember it was the same man.

For now, though, he just hoped that the memory remained self-contained and he wouldn't have to face the ~~beautiful~~ monster. This deep in the Dream Width, Snow could feel his original power coming back, buzzing at his fingertips, but he knew it wouldn't be enough to take on the full power of Kuja.

Still, kukri in hand, Snow White stood defensively in front of Frisk -- just in case.

Ashelia took a step forward in front of Frisk as well, sword extended forward between their little trio and the larger group facing off with Kuja. Or should she call it the Reaper? No. It's Kuja. He did these things.

By Kuja's account, they have less than a couple minutes before his past self engulfs the entire planet in flames (or however he did it) and they're all lost in the Dream Width. She looks up at the airships, mind racing. Should they intervene? If they do, will it buy Kuja more time to gain control of the airship...?

It was one thing to hear about one of your best friends having been a horrible monster back home, and another entirely to see it with your own eyes. The horrible mockery dripping from the Reaper's voice sends shivers down Frisk's spine, and the cruelty alight in his eyes just looks wrong to them. They gulp, repressing the urge to flee and praying for their Kuja, the real Kuja, to take them out of here. Even though they knew somewhere that the two were one and the same.

The Reaper, it seems, is ignorant of the three spectators. He doesn't even seem to care that the eight of them are preparing, wounds being tended to, reserves replenished-

"You not only broke the seal to Terra, but you've done me the favor of defeating Garland!" His gaze lands on the tailed boy, amusement dancing behind his eyes. "Ah, Zidane... You truly are an extraordinary Genome, worthy of my affection~"

'Zidane' snarls, raising his knives again. "What're you doing here, Kuja?!"

"That's not a very nice way to greet your brother, Zidane."

"Shut up! You're no brother of mine!" Kuja snorts, turning to face Garland now with the air of a put-upon servant.

"Oh, my! Such ferocity! Why, Master Garland, I do believe he intends to turn against Terra..." There's that faint, gloating sing-song quality again, as though he's winding up to some grand punchline...

Garland, even mortally wounded, is having none of it. "Kuja... what are you scheming?"

The Reaper's face is the picture of injured innocence, laughter building in his throat again. "Scheming? Me? No, just defeating the enemies of Terra!" he turns, facing the assembled party once more, an orb of flame forming in one hand, black at the center- "Come on, now! You can sleep alongside the souls of Terra... for all eternity!"

And like that, the battle is joined. There's an explosion of magic, a Flare Star cast into the center of the eight- but it's not enough. Kuja's not as strong as Garland was, that's abundantly clear. There's a scream as the dragoon drops out of the sky, spear-first, leaving him bleeding. A sword is barely dodged, leaving a deep gash, a few silver-white feathers shorn off as he just dodges a whirling blade overhead-

Only to be struck by a twin assault of Flare and Holy, thrown violently backwards by the child mages, working in tandem. He emerges from the smoke burned, clearly in pain-

So why is he still laughing?

Overhead, the Hilda Garde stabilizes, and begins to descend.

Edited 2018-12-10 18:43 (UTC)

Ashelia stays between Frisk and the fearsome fight in front of them, not moving an inch. She looks up to the ship, then down to the fight, then up, then down - and it looks like the Reaper is down for the count.

A chill runs down her spine when he laughs. This is all part of his plan somehow. He's baiting them...but for what? His Melody? But Ashelia had always been under the impression it was a strictly Crystallian convention...

"Stay back," she says to Frisk. "If events proceed apace, this is the beginning of the end for Terra." And us, is Ashelia's unspoken implication.

Edited 2018-12-14 16:17 (UTC)

"Something's off," Snow agreed, shaking his head as he watched the memory of Kuja. "He keeps getting hit, but he keeps laughing. Who laughs after that?"

There was some kind of plan, some scheme -- there had to be. It set Snow White on edge.

He glanced back up at the ship. "Come on... hurry up..."

For once, Frisk's anime knowledge seems to be coming in handy, and not just for quippy references. Although this wasn't exactly how they were picturing their big heroic nerdout. In fact, this was quite terrifying now that they had context for it. "Shit, shit, he's... there's this. Thing. Where villains always, always only bust out their strongest attack once the heroes got 'em on the ropes, and Kuja is. Totally. The type to play to that trope."

The attacks are not done. The Reaper tries to cast, throws out a Holy spell in retaliation, but the spell is blocked by a wall of stone, raised in defense, a summoned dragon's breath deflected only just enough to leave him stunned, not dead, stone around him dripping into molten slag-

He looks down, at the blade protruding from his gut, a knife thrust deep and then withdrawn. He falls to his knees, and Zidane steps back, growling. "It's over, Kuja."

Pain. Pain was always a large factor, pain and fear of death and the adrenaline rush that came with battle. For a moment, there's real fear in the Reaper's eyes, as he feels the cold of death encroaching on his vision, a low gasp of pain... Had he miscalculated?

No.

Something in him changes. "The time is now." The eight seem to realize it, as the Reaper begins to stand again, his body glowing, magical energy arcing off him and grounding itself in the stone around him, hair and feathers darkening to the red of blood. The light fades, before long, but now he's rising into the air, arms spread wide. "Trance... shall I show you all its power?"

Frisk's assessment, it seems, is nearly correct. A single orb of azure flame is conjured, and flicked into the sky. It splits, arrows of light scattering across the battlefield, decimating everything in sight and reducing the hardened stone to rubble- and the assembled heroes to their knees. The Reaper's expression is nothing short of exultant, laughing with sheer, unbridled joy at his newfound capability. "Yes! This! This is the power I've longed for! The power of souls! They assault any threat that tries to destroy them!"

Thankfully, perhaps, Kuja takes this opportunity to land the Hilda Garde, inexpertly, behind the three observers. There's a shriek of metal and a ladder hurriedly tossed overboard. "We have less than a minute, everyone on the ship!"

"Yes...he is." Ashelia answers Frisk, but her gaze doesn't move from the Reaper until Kuja arrives with the airship.

The young queen does not need to be told twice, nudging Frisk to board first. "Come now, let's away."

He'd seen this before. The red feathers, the power. Last time, it hadn't been... so violent. But Snow White knew this was some heightened form of Kuja. This was... apparently its true purpose.

It was time to go.

"Go! Go!" Once Frisk was on his way up, Snow grabbed Ashe by the waist and hoisted up up the ladder. He wasn't sure where the instinct came from. It wasn't usually his way to put someone else first.

Frisk waits no time in scrambling up the ladder. At least they were still pretty dang fast. Once they're on the deck, they help pull Snow and Ash up, looking fearfully as the past Kuja rains destruction down on the party of adventurers. They wish they could say that they couldn't imagine their Kuja doing the same thing... but it was really all too easy.

Kuja grunts as he pulls the throttle, urging the airship upwards, voices fading as the ship lifts off. He relaxes, even though his past self continues to grandstand, kicks Garland off a cliff.

"Gods damn it. I'm never asking anybody to follow me into one of these again, what if- what if we hadn't made it in time, or... Ugh. You could have been killed. I'm sorry."

The memory begins to fade, dissolving like smoke in the wind. "Memories. Damned memories, all mine, and they're all like this, all just me being... like that. I'll be better off doing this alone next time. At least I won't be putting someone else in danger just because I've remembered a particular tuesday-"

He freezes, going stiff as a board. The airship begins to list to the side, as he lets go of the wheel, which might well be cause for alarm. Of greater concern, however, is the strange, gurgling sound that passes his lips, and the way he seems to be hovering several inches above the deck.

"I have always found memory an interesting subject of research," The voice is quiet and dispassionate, accompanied by the soft impact of metal boots on wood. "You're aware of this, given how I was able to work to stop you in Memoria, Kuja. And yet, you return here, where memories have power. I wonder why." Garland, alive somehow, fading in out of wisps of thought.

There's no snappy comeback, no scathing retort. It's funny, how oxygen deprivation can hinder communication skills. "We agree on one thing, however." There's a moment, as the man in armor examines him, of recognition- and of fear- but then the genome goes limp, unconsciousness claiming him before, with the casual air of tossing out a broken toy, he's thrown over the railing and out of sight.

"They're better off without you."

Edited 2018-12-23 19:41 (UTC)

They step back, horrified, as Garland appears on the deck of the ship. Fear begins beating fast and furious in Frisk's heart as Garland slowly suffocates Kuja. No, no, no, no, no. They couldn't... they weren't... After he'd tried so hard and so much to be... "KUJA!" Frisk yells, a power deep within them burning bright as worry and fear and rage consumes their soul. It may even look like a Trance to Garland. Asterisks now within their reach, the SAVE files previously LOADed activate, granting the entire party a boost.

From... somewhere, music begins playing as Frisk charges Garland, snarling. They jump high into the air and summon a Hellfrog in a move that may be familiar to Snow White... except as they sail through the nebula, they appear behind Garland, and to his flank, and to his other flank, and oh god dammit there go the conflicting memories again as Frisk unleashes a weak physical combo on Garland from all angles, the one on the Hellfrog vanishing a few seconds later, then one by one they coalesce into a single Frisk that backflips away right as the Hellfrog unleashes its payload.

"KUJA!" Snow White screamed, wide-eyed. How? How? This couldn't be...

He charged at Garland... then past him, sprinting desperately for the railing, reaching out to try to grab hold, grab hold, grab something...! But Kuja was gone.

"KUJA!" His chest was tight. His voice ripped through his throat, raw and ugly. It felt like fire. It felt like his soul was being split from him again and he didn't like it. He didn't entirely understand this feeling, but before he knew it, Snow was hoisting himself up and throwing himself off the ship.

‘Garland’ watches impassively as Snow White leaps over the railing, catching an assault from all sides from Frisk- and addresses the child, bleeding memory like black smoke. “Do you really intend to risk your life to save him? You have the airship, and I cannot kill you, here, nor have I any particular desire to. Leave.” Azure flame gathers in one hand, a spell being prepared.

As for Snow White, the distance between him and Kuja narrows as they fall. It’s clear he’s unconscious, sinking as though through water- but Snow can reach him, if he tries.

"FUCK!" Frisk disappears into the swirling nebulae of the Dream Width with an impromptu Smokescreen, "YOU!" The amount of rage and fear in their voice almost has a physical force. Just as the last trace of Frisk disappears, their future self pops into existence just behind Garland. Then another. Then another. Then two more. Five Frisks in total thrust their arms forward, unleashing a hail of lightning chakrams at Garland with an Invisible Lightning Ninjitsu before they all disappear one by one. "Kuja is my friend, as disgusting as that might be to you! And nothing is going to change that!"

[Closed] Retrieval of Expensive Works of Engineering

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reminder their attack and speed is boosted by 20% and their damage scales off both now

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