melodiesofeternity | [Closed] Retrieval of Expensive Works of Engineering

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!"

Garland can't possibly block all of it. It's clear he's hurting, and yet he seems unperturbed by the fact that he's being torn to shreds, retaliating with a [Wave] of energy that scythes across the deck and into Frisk. "You are a child that knows nothing about him."

He waves a hand, conjuring wisps of thought, scenes from Terra, from Gaia. Kuja snarling, standing over the corpse of a beatiful, familiar, and dead dragon, kicking her in an attempt to rouse her. Kuja, stepping over the charred corpse of a Burmecian, an army of black mages marching around him. Kuja, rising into the skies over Terra and unleashing Ultima, burning everything. A familiar voice, caught in a choked laugh that turns so quickly to sobs, and then to silence.
"I won't let it happen.
I won't... I won't let this world exist without me!"

"The mere notion that he was mortal sent your 'friend' flying into a tantrum that ended one world and nearly ended all. You aren't even aware of the depths of atrocity he's committed." Another spell cast, and one of the Frisks finds themself frozen, [Stop]ped in time. "Whether I find it disgusting or not is irrelevant. He is a mistake, one I failed to correct. You know what threat is posed by the forces arrayed against Vaikuntha. Will you make them pay the price for your defense of a broken doll guilty of genocide?"

Frisk, reckless in their rage, gets hit head-on by the Wave. They're blasted several meters back, bones shattered by the impact... then they aren't, as if it never happened. It's less that they're turning back time and more jumping time tracks. But still, Garland's words cut deep.

Not deep enough to shake Frisk's faith, though. Even as Frisk is Stopped, they grit their teeth, glow golden, and... dozens of yellow shadows of Frisk writhe, all looking for a way out of the spell. Time was their domain now, not Garland's. They pop out of the status and create a short loop: they appear a few meters away from Garland, snapping their fingers to cast Combustion on the memory. "SO WHAT?" they roar. "IT'S BECAUSE OF YOU HE WAS LIKE THAT! HE FUCKED UP, HE KILLED PEOPLE, AND HE MIGHT NOT DESERVE REDEMPTION, BUT WHO THE FUCK CARES? NOBODY 'DESERVES' REDEMPTION, THAT'S THE POINT! HE'S BEEN TRYING SO HARD TO DO GOOD HERE, SO HARD TO BE A GREAT FRIEND, SO HARD TO SAVE THE WORLD, AND GUESS WHAT, HAS-BEEN?"

Frisk flashsteps out of a passing cloud just as their other self completes the loop. "IT'S WORKING! AND YOU HAVE NO POWER OVER HIM ANYMORE!"

Garland explodes, leaving nothing but black smoke, thick and oily, that dissipates on the wind, though he steps out of the cloud elsewhere, whole and unharmed. And yet... something's different. He seems diminished, somehow, less menacing, even if physically he's unharmed. "He desires death. Would it not be kinder to allow him such a mercy, given that, in his own words, he does not deserve life? The temptation of power offered is too great. He will succumb. It is... inevitable."

Frisk feels something... odd. A bolstering presence, in a strange way, something building up momentum behind them, like the sense of someone cheering them on.

Garland retaliates by throwing out a [Flare] before brutally slamming a Frisk into the deck, and yet it feels... weaker, than it was before. Hm. "You are wrong, there. Here, memories have power, and thoughts have weight. It's true, I cannot kill him... but I can eliminate him as a threat, and thus lend protection to what is left of Terra's legacy."

Frisk is caught off guard by the Flare this time, and they're sent reeling--giving Garland enough time to slam them into the deck. But... they're laughing. Cackling like a hyena, in fact. They didn't have a lot of time left, despite their current excess of it. Time to make this count. And they had an idea for how to put down this bastard once and for all.

"Oh, please. My math homework is scarier than you, you old fart! It certainly does a better job of kicking my butt, at any rate." Frisk taunts, as their future self drags them away and props them to their feet. "Who are you even trying to fool? You're just a sad old man throwing a tantrum even worse than Kuja's, like a puny human baby, because you're not important anymore. Face it! You failed, even before you had a chance to succeed! I heard your whole monologue down there, you know. Your spiel on how this work was important. And you know what I got out of it?" Frisk begins striding forward, not even bothering to flashstep. Garland just wasn't worth it.

"You were a glorified recycling plant worker. Heck, you were so incompetent that the grand master plan that you spent millennia crafting was taken apart by a bunch of kids younger than me! Yeesh, talk about embarrassing." Frisk is face to face with Garland at this point, looking him straight in the eye without their cocky smirk wavering once. "Oh, and one last thing before I demolish you: even if Kuja falters, even if he falls back into the darkness...

"I will always, always be there to bring him back. No matter what."

And then Frisk cold-cocks Garland right in the face. Then they shank him in the gut in an Assassinate and tries to push-kick him over the edge of the ship for good measure; their future self sticking out a leg behind Garland for good measure.

Edited 2019-02-01 17:06 (UTC)

Garland goes down. It's underwhelming, almost, how he simply... vanishes. There's no fanfare, no sense of some great evil being vanquished, merely a figure that drops into the clouds below and does not rise again, leaving the airship deck quiet once more.

Far below, Snow reaches Kuja. It was probably not the most intelligent plan, following him overboard, but now that they're here, an unconscious genome and a falling demon, what else is there to do?

The clouds of memory surge upwards as they fall, filling the air with the stench of rain and smoke and blood, threatening to swallow them up- but their progress is halted, as a gloved hand seizes Snow's own, arresting both their falls.

"Hey. Need a lift?"

When Kuja arrives back on the airship, Frisk is... gone. Like they were never there in the first place. But there is a note on the deck, scrawled in their distinctive handwriting.

Hey Kuja! So I went a bit apeshit on Garland and ended up activating my melody--or trance, I guess. Turns out they're kinda the same? Huh. Anyways, I don't have a lot of time to write this down, but I'm going to be gone for a bit to complete a few loops that I started when I fought him. Don't worry, shouldn't be more than a few minutes, and I'm definitely not lost.

"Ngh..." Snow White grit his teeth, straining his arm, trying to reach just that much farther... and there! He had him, he had Kuja.

They were now both falling to their probable deaths, of course, but Snow sure did have a grip on Kuja.

Stupid, stupid, stupid... He hadn't thought this through, not at all. How utterly foolish. Snow had gone and gotten feelings involved, and now he really was stuck and falling to his demise, just like... just like...

The image of Otogi came to mind, darting before him to defend him from Rapunzel. Even though the demons couldn't kill each other, Otogi risked his life for Snow's. Foolish. With a wry smile, Snow realized he'd truly reached that level of stupidity: friendship. It wasn't so bad. Well, besides the dying part.

He squeezed his eyes shut, uncertain and anxious as the scent of blood and smoke stung his nose, wondering how long it would take -- until he suddenly halted, held by another strong grip.

"Oh?"

It's... odd. There was the distinct sensation of an arm wrapping around him a moment ago, and a hand pulling him back- but when Snow White looks up, it's only his own hand that's gripping the anchor line, and as the memory begins to fade again, the weightlessness of the Cloud is returning.

The Hilda Garde is there, drifting. It's easy to pull them back onto the deck, but as the last vestiges of the dream fade, there's- the vaguest impression of startlingly blue eyes, and a voice, barely a whisper, but just there.

Thanks.

[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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