(no subject)

[monolike]

Who: Mikleo (nerdeology), Sorey (monolike), Allen Walker (save_the_souls), Zaveid (airily), Lailah (sansseraph), Eithan Paine (deviances), Stefan (stefanged), MORE TO BE ADDED
Broadcast: N/A
Action: Solrius's surface
When: forward-dated to 9/11

[Despite the destructive nature of this dastardly duo, there have been surprisingly few resident deaths as a direct result of their combined rampaging. Still, the property damage is mindboggling, and Sorey and Mikleo both have spent the past few days soaking up and sewing malevolence like there's no tomorrow. The people in their territory are terrified, homeless, helpless and hopeless. Despite the steady streams of people hunting down the boy and his dragon, no one has succeeded in killing either of them.

Sorey, more hellion than human now and growing more unstable by the hour, is beyond reason, a mass of the anger and frustration in more than ready supply by the system's inhabitants. Mikleo is nearly mindless, is no longer content to listen to orders for the sake of keeping his deteriorating partner happy. Soon, it won't be enough to just rip up trees by the roots and brutalize those coming after them.

Soon, nothing will be enough.]


(( starters inside! ))

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QUELLING THE SHEPHERD

[monolike]

[The second he feels them enter his domain, the Shepherd feels such a rush of emotion he almost falls off of his dragon's back. His seraphim. His Prime Lord. There are others; strong ones, someone with a domain that could overcome even his own if it weren't for his dragon, but that doesn't matter. His seraphim are here. He doesn't remember why he needed them so badly but he did, he does, and now they can stop searching. Stop pretending.

He sends his dragon off. He's become too unpredictable. He might eat them. Stay there and watch.

The Shepherd doesn't remember their true names. He doesn't know much anymore. His dragon remembers nothing so the Shepherd plans, directs, controls. He summons maelstroms and tornadoes, lightning and squalls and flame. He was trying not to kill people...he doesn't remember why.


Ļ͓͍̎̑̈́͑ͦ̾̃ͬ̇À̶̡̞̖̩͍̟͌͛̃͢Ḭ͉̩͎̼̦̖̝̣̂ͤ͝L̲͚̼̠͉̘̟͒ͮ͋͑ͯ̈́ͯA̸̦̫̜͙͓͚ͫ̀̐̃̆͐͊ͥH̊͒͗̎͒͂ͩ̀͐͘҉͍̣̜͚̰


Come to his side. He's missed you. Everyone else are as ants; the dragon can eat them, the Shepherd doesn't care. He needs more. More, more more. He'll kill that one with the domain, then bring in Lailah and Zaveid, and together they'll all hunt down Dezel and find Edna. Then everyone else who needs saving. Rose. Alisha. Nightingale, Sora, Cole, Dorothy, Clay, Poe, Stefan, Opal, more, more, more - ]

[save_the_souls]

[ For days, Allen's been tracking Sorey and Mikleo. Each time he got near, the pair escaped into the sky where Allen couldn't follow. But as the days went on, their patterns got more sporadic, their coordination fell out of sync, their attacks less focused ... all while the weaponized malevolence emitting from them built up more and more. It's the malevolence, Allen concluded. Dark matter was corrosive, it corrupted. If a person didn't have strong control over it, it could easily erode the bits of higher thinking that made them more than a mindless monster. He's seen it happen before, it wasn't surprising that Sorey and Mikleo struggled with the same fate.]

[But it did mean Allen needed to act, and he needed to act soon, if there was any chance for Sorey to be saved]

[Along with the others, he followed Lailah's lead towards Sorey until he was close enough that he could sense for himself. As soon as he crossed into the dark domain, his Innocence activated, cowl glowing with a white light among all the darkness of the storm. Off in the distance, he can hear a trapped soul, crying out. He has to swallow, push to the back of the mind along with the urge to find it. He needs to handle that later, when there isn't a promise to keep.]

[As Sorey calls out for Lailah, Allen that steps up first, not caring about the storm around him. He makes sure to step clear into Sorey's view, speaking with his head held high]

You shouldn't speak to a lady like that. It's rude.

[Yeah learn some manners you crazed hellion]

Hello Sorey.

[sansseraph]

[Lailah steels herself as they enter the domain. Not only will Sorey immediately sense their presence, but she's sure that he'll try to call out for her.

Some reunion. It's been a human's life time since she's seen Sorey. After all they've been through, this isn't how Lailah wanted their next meeting to go.

Using her given name rather than her true name is something of a relief. She doesn't feel the tug as strongly. On the other hand, it's a sign that he's deteriorated and is on the verge of falling too far down for purification to work. The fire seraph prays that they can finish this quickly.

Lailah keeps her distance and stays behind Allen. She plans on joining Zaveid when he confronts Mikleo, but right now she needs to help with Sorey's purification. Her flames will be able to support Allen for as long as she keeps the pact, which isn't much longer. There's too much malevolence coming in through it, making her even sicker. The fire seraph fights through it as she meets Sorey's face.

Her poor, poor Shepherd. Her heart aches and twists itself on seeing him like this.]

Oh, Sorey. [She can't help the sadness in her voice and expression, but there's steel behind her eyes.] I promise this will be over soon.

[One way or another, it will end.]

[deviances]

[ Eithan's right behind Allen when he steps forward. He looks unarmed, and a little out of place, but he's pretty okay with looks being deceiving in this case. And when he hears the Shepherd speak the woman's name, he's got a little bit more of an idea of just how deep this malevolence stuff runs... He'd had a feeling that all the explanations didn't do the real thing justice. This just proves it. ]

So. You're the one I've been hearin' about, huh?

[ Just speaking, for now, following Allen's lead. If they need to play the talking game for a bit, then that's fine with him. He's as ready as he'll ever be, honestly, and determined to help however he can. Whatever that means. ]

hover for translation!

[stefanged]

[It's not often that Stefan can feel something like malevolence, but it's thick, like pushing through an almost impossible fog, and if it's bad for him - he can't imagine how Allen and Lailah feel. Like Eithan, he's unarmed, but he's not particularly bothered either.

This isn't one of their planet-side scuffles where dead raptors tell no tales, nor is this a rogue vampire needing to be staked. This is - no, this was one of his best friends, and for a long moment, hesitation sets on Stefan's face. Maybe he should've brought more than his fists and lemon gels, or maybe - maybe he could just suck it up (no pun intended) and face this head-on like the rest of them.

Taking one sidelong glance back at Lailah, he shoots her a nervous smile before he swallows his reluctance and approaches Sorey. A few months ago, he might've seen a normal kid, but there's no mistaking the sight in front of him.

With his hands stuffed in his favorite leather jacket, like he knows exactly what he's doing, he says,] Yeah, akhi. Show Lailah some respect.

i cried and then died thanks

[monolike]

[The Shepherd tilts his head, sharp-quick like a bird as the others approach. What are these? He doesn't want them. He wants Lailah, Lailah, Lailah-

No, no, he recognizes two of them. The domain-keeper is Allen ( The only good person with high malevolence is a dead one ) and the Shepherd knows him. He knows the other one too; one of the ones he's supposed to save, Stefan.

The Shepherd sways slightly and the rain begins pouring down in buckets. Lailah feels stronger. He'll need to drown her out before she comes with him; she'll need to be worn down. It'll be over fast. He owes her that much.]


Ḯͨt's͋̃͌̓̅ ̽oͩ́k͆͊ͨ͂̽á͊͐̎ͪy̑͛̄.̀͐̑̿ͤͩ̏ ̀͂ ͨ̍ͣͨI̓ͤ͆̃̊̄t̓̓'̓͆̿̀ṡ̉ͬ͂ͯͯ́ ǒͧ̃ͤkͨay̏ͨ̔.ͩ̈́ ͗̀͛̄ͤͬ ̍̊ͩͩ̋͊I͒̋͋͂ͩ̅͐'̋m̓̑̌ͥ̽̀ ́̓ͤͭ̈́̌h͂̽e͂̄r͆̓͛eͤ̾ͬ.̈́̋̑̒ͨ

[A seraph as powerful as Lailah will be able to use a bit of the other elements to make herself stronger, so he needs to drench this place. The Shepherd lunges forward to grab for Stefan's arm as he swings his sword and summons a wave of water and mud up from the ground; it roars like a tsunami and arcs high above the battlefield before it crashes down upon them like a mudslide.]

[save_the_souls]

[ When he was Sorey's age and away from his home, an older warrior had looked after him. A woman with silver eyes and a faint smile always on her face. She taught him many things, including how not to just see dark matter with his cursed eye, but how to read it. ]

[So the moment he sees the malevolence that surrounds Sorey shift and grow with the artes, before he can even finish his statement, Allen's on the move. He shoots a white ribbon to grab at that swinging sword arm with the intent of throwing him off balance with a yank.]

Get ready!

[He's not fast enough to interrupt Sorey from summoning the tidal wave. Instead, he lifts opens his cape as it forms spikes on the bottom that dig into the earth, creating a shield against the oncoming tidal wave that they could hide behind if they move fast enough....and the ones taller than Allen crouch.]

[sansseraph]

[Lailah takes out her paper. Her martial artes are purely fire, but she has a seraphic arte up her sleeve that's both wind and water. She knows that this downpour is to make her fire weaker, and with how he's calling for her...it's enough to distract her for a moment.

Luckily, the distraction isn't enough to prevent the seraph from taking cover behind Allen's shield. She has to duck slightly, what with her heels giving her about a half an inch on him. A red glyph glows at her feet as she mutters an incantation, ending with:]

Imbuement!

[Stefan is going to get a minor heal that also temporarily increases the power of any magical attacks he has.]

[deviances]

[ The rain's coming down hard, so direct flames aren't really the best option right now, and he knows it. Time for the more volatile approach... Especially when he sees that tidal wave of mud coming straight at all of them. ]

... You're kiddin'.

[ okay so he would probably keel over dead if he couldn't get some snark in Allen's cover goes up, and he sees Lailah make it there in time. Good. He'll make a run for it, but first, time to try something~

He waits for the moment that muck starts its descent, centers his concentration on the space just beneath the forming crest, and detonates the air there - a sudden rise in heat and pressure, resulting in a loud, powerful explosion that he hopes will be forceful enough to disrupt its balance and scatter the muck outward - away from them, as much as possible.

And then, just in case it's still not enough, he's pretty much jumping-and-rolling behind that cover, staying low so that his height doesn't screw him over. ]

[stefanged]

[Owwww.

Stefan wasn't fast enough (for once in his life) and that sword grazes against his arm before he has time to side-step it. He ducks, inadvertently rolling behind Allen's cover, and as he reaches for a lemon gel -

Oh, Praise be to Allah, Lailah can heal.] Thank you!

[See, he was raised with manners, unlike certain hellion shepherds that won't be mentioned.]

[monolike]

[That's rude? Zenrus did the best he could. It's not his fault his stupid grandsons went darkside.

Either way, this is a case of too many cooks in the kitchen. Battle instinct is mindless but strategy isn't, and there's just enough mind still there for the Shepherd to recognize that if he doesn't eliminate some players, he'll be cornered and have to call in his dragon. He doesn't want to do that; his dragon's already injured, and cranky for it. No, he should finish this himself, which means he should divide and conquer. Allen and Lailah are the most dangerous threats here. The Shepherd doesn't know everything that other guy can do yet, so that leaves Stefan. Well, perfect; he wants him out of harm's way anyhow.

The Shepherd chases the scattered wave immediately, using the wind to lift his jump high over their cover as what's left of the mud crashes against it. With all this water it's easy to make ice and he calls it up in gigantic icicles. Separate them. Land, grab Stefan and hurl him into the wind to carry him as far from the battlefield as the Shepherd can manage. Any broken bones can be fixed later; for now, he needs to get him away from the fight.

Now for that other guy. He'd used some kind of technique, so, maybe he's bad at close combat? With an ornamental sword more like a club than a blade, the Shepherd swings an experimental strike at explosion guy over here, enough force behind it to crack a tree in half.]

[save_the_souls]

[The problem when you use something attached to you for cover, it means you can't really move. So when Sorey summons up the icicles, he can only move away enough not to get impaled by the nearest one- but he's still pinned in a corner between the mud wall that formed against his cape and the icicles. He could use his cape to knock that stuff away, but there were too many people close by- they could get hit and injured]

[And just as he was trying to figure out what to do, he sees Sorey grab Stefan and throw him far. Way farther than any person should be hurled]

- Stefan!

[Shit shit. And now the guy was going after Eithan. Allen starts using his claws to cut through the ice. It works very well, but he's still not going to reach Eithan in time to protect him from that blow]

WEAKENING THE DRAGON

[nerdeology]

[Mikleo has for the moment separated himself from Sorey- when the others come and Sorey dismisses him he has no objections, content to fly free and away from the presence of his "master". He's grown frustrated and unsatisfied by all the limitations placed on him lately. Dragons were not meant to be tamed or subdued, and while his affection for his hellion partner still lingers, he's been refusing to obey orders infrequently of late, and scolding does very little to make him adjust his behaviour. The moment Sorey sets him loose, his attention focused on them, always them, not enough him, he snarls and soars off to a nearby mountain to sulk and endure alone. It isn't far- no more than a few minutes by flight, really- but it's enough of a hint to Sorey that he's glad to have some space between them.

It doesn't help that he's still nursing his lingering wounds from all of the previous battles. As the malevolence builds, both within and around him, his healing artes have become less and less effective. His body is riddled with half-healed scars, and his current nesting place is covered in a blanket of freshly-created snow for him to roll, nestle, and soak in, allowing the element to soothe the injuries and wash away the blood.

Thanks to the damage previously inflicted, his senses are struggling, and he's been left vulnerable. Really, it wasn't wise to separate himself from Sorey in such a state, but he's no longer a creature driven by logic, and his pride currently outweighs his sense of self-preservation. He's a dragon; he's been made strong, powerful, nigh-invincible. He can fight his own battles, surely.]

the end of a dream

[nerdeology]

[To call it "flying" would be incredibly generous, if one were to look up and describe the dragon in the sky. Mikleo has just barely escaped from his last battle alive, and it shows; every flap of his shredded wings is a struggle, hardly able to stay aloft, moving at a fraction of the speed and height as he had in his prime. Open wounds are scattered across his body, some shallow and coated in drying blood, others deep and oozing his life away. One eye is gone, the other glazed and half-sightless, legs crippled from numerous well-aimed sword slashes to the nerves that kept them strong. Were he more of a wild animal, he'd have curled up in a quiet place to await his own death by now.

But he is a dragon, who was once a seraph, and he is driven by more than just instincts. He can sense it- a deep ache in his chest, a hole in his heart, a recognition that something is missing. The one who filled it so perfectly before doesn't feel the same as he did not even an hour prior. What once was his, what once guided and directed him, what once kept him tethered in a way he hated and loved... it's gone, leaving only memory and a lingering familiarity that he doesn't understand. He does understand that he's been set free, and that freedom is breathtaking, an unexpected delight. There is nothing in the world stopping him from picking a direction and leaving the rest of the world behind.

He doesn't. He searches, instead.

...where...?

He follows the path of memory, now that the link between them has been severed. Where the hellion was, where he must have been before the pact was broken. He doesn't know what's happened-his attention had been elsewhere, and all he'd known was that they were both being attacked at the same time, or else he'd have gone there at once. A reluctance to follow obediantly doesn't mean he won't protect what belongs to him.

He senses more than sees the group, and it's then that his strength gives out. His wings fold and he drops from the sky like a stone, crashing against the damaged terrain with a shriek of pained outrage that echoes for miles. He lies there in a bloody heap for a long moment, chest heaving for air, until finally he struggles to crawl forward, claws scraping through the dirt, teeth bared and snarling, ready to fight till his last breath for Sorey.

He can smell him. Just barely- it's different- but he's here.

where

where

mine he is MINE

don't touch him again

kill them all]

[airily]

[ Zaveid knows about dragons. He knows how to hunt them, he knows how to find them, he knows how to track them down and figure them out; he knows what to do to to pin them to one location. He had spent a long time doing it before, after all; he had been the one to find Eizen, to sit, to watch at the base of the Spiritcrest and wait to see what happened. It was long before he'd paid too much attention to Edna, and now... Now he has to do it all over again. He has to play dragon hunter, and he hates it.

There's nothing tying him to Sorey anymore and he feels freer for it. He doesn't trip and stumble as he makes his way higher and higher, nor does he feel a tug on his soul. Right now, in this moment, Zaveid is nothing but himself, a lone seraph that knows what to do. There's no gun at his side, and the pendulums he found around the planet are nothing like the ones he has at home, but they have to be good enough - he doesn't get a choice this time.

It's not a promise he made to Eizen - and this isn't a promise he made to Sorey, to Mikleo, to Dezel, to Lailah. This is a promise he made to himself; he would help Mikleo find his salvation.

He's halfway up when he hears the crash of a huge body hitting the ground, wind whirling around him, and he knows. He knows that something has changed, that Mikleo is weak and broken, and this is it - this is the moment. Everyone else is distracted, focussed on Sorey, and Zaveid - well, he'd only ever had one thing in mind. He'd only ever had one creature to worry about and the other seraphim knew it; the dragon. Zaveid could no longer bear the weight of dragons on his conscience, on his friends, destroying them from the inside out, and he would remove it.

With the wind finally back under his control properly, no malevolence holding him down, he presses up fast and sure, stepping over the damaged ground before he holds his head high. There's no hat, no gun, nothing but his skin and his artes and his whips, and that has to be enough. Mikleo is weaker, now, and Zaveid - well. He can handle a weakened dragon.

(A quiet voice in the back of his mind says maybe he can't, and this is just an excuse, but he ignores it, walking forward with a small smile). ]

Looks like it's gonna come down to you and me, Mikey-boy.

[ His arte surround him and he slips his fingers into his pendulums, ready, head tilted high. ]

Let's dance.

[sylphystia]

[It takes Dezel some time to get back to the planet. He's been resting in the Blue Fish's medbay, but he also happens to be invisible to most people so it's not hard for him to sneak back out. He's still hurting quite a bit but there's no danger or open wounds, now. Sorey had told him to come back down and finish what they started. It was unnecessary: Dezel planned on being here no matter what.

In the end, he chooses to follow the other wind seraph. Allen and his friends have Sorey well in hand, especially with Lailah there, and it's not as if Dezel is in peak fighting condition anyway. But he needs to be here for Mikleo, for Sorey, for Zaveid. For the friends he has and the friends he's forgotten. He needs to be here for himself, too-- for closure. Mikleo had been there when Dezel died, and... well, they have a few things in common, that's for sure.

The dragon's domain is nothing compared to Sorey's, but that seems to have vanished, leaving Mikleo alone in his seething darkness. Dezel is grateful for that. Sorey's been purified, or that's what the wind tells him. He's still breathing and that's enough.

Dezel reveals himself as he hops up onto a nearby rock. He's still wearing bandages around his neck and chest, and there's at least one patch on his cheek. He looks like hell. He feels like hell.

He doesn't care.]

I told you not to do this by yourself.

[He breathes in, steadies himself.]

I'll jump in if it gets too hot for you to handle.

[nerdeology]

[Mikleo pants into the dirt as he feels their approach, smoke and blood trickling from his mouth with every breath. He slides his head to one side, keeping them in view with his good eye, though he knows before he sees them, knows by the scent of them-

not him

His lips curve into a bloody snarl and he forces himself to his feet, every step forward a struggle. His movements are sluggish, but determined as he approaches, broken wings dragging against the ground. As he gets closer, he picks up speed, gaining momentum. He lunges at the closest target; the tall one with the flowing mane, the challenger, though his hunger for the other one is greater since their last meeting. He knows. He remembers-

held you, wanted you, chose to--

His jaws come down on empty air; with no depth perception his aim is off. He doesn't stop moving, though, turning around and barreling forward as long as his feet can move. Sooner or later, they'll be in the wrong spot at the wrong time. A dragon is eternal. He can last as long as they can.]

[airily]

[ It's hard to focus, especially when he hears Dezel's voice on the wind; he turns, sharply, and breathes out a huff of noise, frowning as he steps a little closer. The other man looks like he's been beaten to death and brought back, and the idle thought makes his heart ache desperately - he doesn't want to think about Dezel dying, doesn't want to remember the mourning, the sadness, the pain -- it's too much. It's too goddamn much.

When will they be free? When will they be able to relax and live their lives? Zaveid knows that Maotelus is the next stop for him, but after that... He'll stick around as a Sub Lord, sure, but will there be happiness? Will he be able to see Sorey's smile, hear Rose's laugh, mess around with Lailah and joke with Edna... He wants to see Mikleo watch them and roll his eyes again, he wants to see, he wants to taste one of his snacks, laugh about the stupid black stuff... He wants so much and it hurts hurts to think about.

He has to do this for himself, but more than that... He has to do this for Mikleo. ]

Aw, Dezel. You getting jealous of me and my buddy Mikleo here?

[ He moves out the way of the wavering, desperate dragon, shifting forward and digging his boots into the ground. He rushes forward, then, pushing himself forward with a wild laugh, putting on a show of someone who isn't broken and desperately hurting. ]

Come on, then! Let's do this!

[ And then he sends an arte flying at Mikleo's neck, the wind draping over him and making him heavy. ]

[sylphystia]

He deserves a sendoff. Let's give him a good one.

[Zaveid plays his part well, and for that, Dezel is glad. He doesn't know what to make of Zaveid when he's being serious. He never has. But there's a dragon coming at them and Dezel sure as hell can't stay here, so he windsteps to a nearby corner and drops to a ready crouch.

With Zaveid attacking, that makes it easier for Dezel to focus on a spell without distraction. Dragons are huge and powerful, it's true, but he's safely out of range of this one. Or at least he thinks he is. The wind swirls around him, honoring his call. He inscribes a large green glyph in the air more by touch than sight, and then he lets it go. A beam of light made of both the wind and the earth shoots toward the dragon, aiming for his side.]

Horizon Storm!

[nerdeology]

[The wind on his back is heavy and constricting, and the dragon shrieks, angry and protesting, skidding to a halt. He shakes and heaves, trying to force it off, but a force as ethereal as air isn't something even a dragon can evade. He staggers, movements growing wild and eratic, but when the second arte catches his side it bowls him over, already unbalanced and weakened, the element dominant to his own tearing painfully into his scales and the flesh beneath. He howls, limbs flailing to right himself, wings flapping disjointedly to try and regain his lost balance.

He only barely makes it halfway upright when he gives up on standing in favour of exhaling a hefty gust of icefire, aiming it in an arc towards both of his opponents. He'll kill them, he'll kill them, he'll break them down and tear them apart and devour every piece and then-- and then--

where are you--]

[airily]

[ Zaveid knows, logically, that Dezel is trying to be helpful, trying to be here to ease the fight - but he can't handle it himself. He moves forward, shifting and rushing forward, practically launching himself into the air as he adjusts his weight and reaches out with all his strength. It takes a bit of concentration, but he's soon adjusting himself, using the split second of air time to cast an Arte in the hopes that it will do something to subdue the dragon. ]

Gonna feel the burn! Radiant Heat!

[ And the Arte comes out in a storm of fire and wind moulding together before Zaveid's body hits the ground. His hands and feet scrape, leaving him scratched and dirty, but right now he doesn't care. The icefire is wild and desperate and it curls towards him, and Zaveid hisses a sharp noise, pressing his face down - and it's not until he can feel the prickle-there feeling onto his body that makes him scream out a noise, moving back and summoning the wind to curve it around his hair, wincing a little as he reaches back to touch the tips of what was once white. ]

Goddamnit.

[ He has more hair left, but - he shifts back, pushing his head back and moving, taking a long, deep breath before he summons more of his wind, dragging it into his fingertips and shifting forward. ]

Here we go, Mikleo... No more playing around. Time for dirty dancin'!

[ Slamming his hands down, he summons the arte, hoping more to exhaust than anything else. ]

Hell Gate!

[sylphystia]

[Shit shit shit-- that's fire coming his way, he hears it on the wind. Dezel ducks behind a rock just in time, the advantage of having range, but he's sure if he had another inch or two he would've been caught in it. Maybe it's a good thing he lost his hat. the frostfire explodes in both flames and icicles, demolishing what's left of the rock, and... well, there goes his hiding place.

That's just fine. It's time to end this, and he can tell Zaveid is ready, too.

Dezel shifts closer, his footsteps barely touching the ground. His pendulums whip around him as he concentrates, then shoves his hands into the ground. Bright greenish-yellow chains sprout up all around the dragon. They tug at his feet, wrap around his wings, and try to shove his snout into the earth.]

[nerdeology]

[The flames met its target, but not enough to do damage- not enough to burn, to weaken, to satisfy. The dragon tries to get closer, claws reaching out to rend and tear, but the arte that follows rips through his body like four sequential knives, and all he can do is howl as he drops back to the ground. He snorts and snarls, puffs of frozen air escaping his mouth as he tries to loose more flames at the seraphim, but the only thing that forms is a collection of pitiful icicles around his muzzle, and even those snap apart like fragile glass as he jerks his head from side to side, struggling once again to stand. He claws desperately at the ground, panting wetly as heated blood replaces the ice, melting it to form gruesome red puddles where he lies. He struggles once, twice, and a third time until his legs give out entirely beneath him, and all he can do is growl at them from a distance like a cornered, wounded dog.

He's not surrendering, not by far- nothing in the world could make him give up now. But the strength to fight is being drained out of him with every blow, and there's as much fear in his eyes as there is anger. When the chains come up from beneath the ground to tie him down, lock him in place, he struggles and screams - in outrage, in pain, in wild, abandoned terror - but he no longer has the power to break himself free.

He can't move. He can't get up. He can't go- he can't go to-

where--

wherewherewherewhere

COME BACK--]

[monolike]

[Without the pact Sorey can’t sense Mikleo’s domain, can’t even see malevolence but there’s no mistaking those furious roars. That’s a dragon- Mikleo’s not a drake, not an- an almost abomination, he’s fully a dragon and there’s no saving-

come back

-Sorey is beyond thought when he lets go of Lailah’s hand and takes off at a scrambling run. His strength comes from desperation, from a blank mind, panic slamming his heart against his ribs as he runs to where he can see Zaveid and Dezel restraining him, pressing the dragon down into the earth with their already individually impressive might combined. The wind howls around them, fearsome in the hands of its true masters but Sorey can’t even hear it, can’t feel it anymore.]

Stop-!

[He makes a beeline right for Mikleo; he’ll charge right into the Hell Gate to reach his side and probably die for it. But he has to reach him, he has to, he must. They’re going to kill Mikleo and he just-

There’s no way to purify a dragon.

Sorey can’t accept that yet. He can’t. It’s naïve and it’s selfish and he knows, he knows it, he has to acknowledge that and be honest with himself but he can’t let Mikleo go. Even if he helped Zaveid kill Eizen, even if it happens in the future, it still hasn’t happened in his. He can’t let it start with Mikleo. He has to save him, has to protect him, after all Mikleo’s done to keep him safe Sorey is not going to let him die here-!]

[airily]

[ Zaveid hears Sorey and, for a moment, he's struck, stopping himself and taking a deep, ragged breath. His hair is twisting around his shoulders, half burned away and needing fixed, throwing his artes down over and over again as if it might be enough - and, shit, he hasn't missed his gun in a long time, but now he wishes he had it. They could do something, then, maybe do something to help Mikleo, and even as he thinks it he knows that it wouldn't be possible.

How long had he searched for a cure for Eizen? How many years had he travelled, trying to find the right way, the best way, to free him of his malevolence? He can remember them all, and it hurts, each time, thinking about all the stupid theories he'd heard, all the possibilities ripped away from him time and time again.

There was no cure.

There was no salvation.

There was only death, and the end. ]

Get away from him, Sorey!

[ Zaveid is quick, pulling at the wind and shifting, pushing it at Sorey to make him move back, to send him away from the bulk of the dragon. He does the same towards Dezel, if only to keep him as far back as possible, and then he steps forward. His face is warm from the icefire, his body is aching from the sheer will and power he's tired to put into his artes, and all of it added up with the exhaustion of the last few days - there's not much left in him. He can't keep doing this forever. ]

He doesn't remember! They don't know, do you get it? This isn't Mikleo anymore, it's a goddamn dragon, and the only way to deal with a dragon is send it to it's own freedom. This is how we gotta save Mikleo, and I'm - I'm sorry, but I'm not going to let you stop me.

[ He reaches out to whisper to the wind, dragging it forward and reaching towards Mikleo. His energy is running away from him, and the only thing there's left to do is make it so the wind doesn't touch the dragon; so that he can't take in air. If he can't breathe... Well, there's only one thing left.

The problem is that he's too tired and, sooner rather than later, his knees begin to shake, his eyes twitching and his face falling - because all he can do is try his best to end this now. He has to do it, because no one else can. ]