driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

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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[ 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!

[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.]

Edited 2016-09-13 19:04 (UTC)

[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--]

[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-!]

[ 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. ]

[Like Sorey, Allen had rushed to the scene where he could sense the dragon, moving as fast as he could carry himself. He was completely determined to end this, to destroy this Akuma that had been his friend. Thanks to his powers (and well, the jetpack), he had even beaten the others there, positioning himself on a hilltop near where the battle was going. It was clear the dragon was on its last limbs of his life, and Zaveid and Dezel were doing a damn good job distracting it.

All he needed to do? Was summon up enough power to do one good blow to it. And so he started drawing up energy, listening to his Innocence as it sends images in his mind what to do, how to concentrate, how to focus the power just right to do what needed to be done. He could feel the technique rapidly draining his energy, but he didn't care. This needed to be done.

Death-

But just before he could finish, Sorey runs onto the battlefield- directly at Mikleo's head.]

Shit! Sorey!

[At the last second, Allen directs the energy towards an area near Mikleo, but nowhere near anyone that could get harmed. It causes a a good sized explosion, instantly incinerating the plants, rocks and trees that were there- leaving a small crater instead. Which that alone was telling just what Allen was planning to do.

But now? He races down the hill, heading right for Sorey. He knew not putting him in the shuttle was a bad idea. Well that's fine then, he'll tie the guy up and drop him off there himself!]

What the hell are you doing, Sorey?!

Edited 2016-09-13 21:24 (UTC)

[You wanna know who else is running?

Lailah.

Who's she running to?

Sorey.

Is she mad?

...There might be a few embers flying.

She should've had a firmer grip on Sorey, but she didn't and now they're paying for it. Lailah throws herself on him in an attempt to wrap her arms around his chest, hoping to drag him back so that he doesn't interfere with what has to happen.]

Stop, Sorey!

[Mikleo's domain makes her want to throw up so bad. She's starting to reach her limit on how much malevolence she can tolerate. Between the corrupt pact and going from Sorey's tainted domain to Mikleo's, the fire seraph is losing her strength.]

Please, let Mikleo go. Don't let him suffer like this.

You can’t- Y-you can’t- [Zaveid, Allen, Lailah- he can hear Stefan and Eithan running up too. He’s just a measly little human, just a flawed, short-lived little mortal, destroying half a continent with his own weakness, hurting half the Fleet with his own selfishness. He’s never felt so small, with Zaveid pushing him away, Allen scrambling down the side of a mountain to stalk over to him, Lailah clinging to his waist and keeping him from getting back up though his ears are ringing, his chest hurts from the fall.

The dragon’s thrashing weakens and all Sorey can see is a little boy humming as he weaves together blades of grass, wind tugging at his robes and hair.]

He was never supposed to die first, [Sorey gasps, and the tears that have been almost near-constant since his purification swell up, great and too huge to contain, sobs wracking his body all the way down to his fingers and toes. He pulls weakly at Lailah’s arms; he won’t hurt her, he can’t hurt her, but she has to let him go. She has to. He can’t just kneel here while Mikleo dies.] It was supposed to be me-! I’m the human!

Please, I know, he can’t be purified but I can’t- I can’t let him die all alone, Lailah, Zaveid, I felt him call out for me! He knows I’m here, please just let me go to him, he just can’t die alone. Not Mikleo.

[ I’m just so happy you’re coming with me! ]

Not when he’s given- given everything up for me-

[ It’s my dream too, you know. ]

-he would go to me- he did come to me, please, at least let me be there-

[ Sorey, you’re impossible. ]

-I’m begging you, all of you, please.

[ But you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t. ]

- No!

[That idiot. Allen continued moving forward. It was too dangerous for Sorey to be near here while they did what they needed to do. It'd be far too easy for him to get caught in the crossfire, to get some idea of trying to stop it. As far as Allen was convinced, Sorey was not someone to be trusted at this moment.

And so before anyone else can try to get input, he moves as swiftly as he can to Sorey. When he's within a few feet, he starts to will his Innocence to shoot out some ribbons to tie him up-

CRACK.

All of the sudden, Allen's pure domain vanishes. His sword and cape dim and crumble, falling apart and the material returning to form his red left arm. The ribbons that were supporting his legs, forcing his legs to move, disappear - he stumbles and falls to the ground, slipping on the mud so he lands very near Sorey and Lailah, where he starts coughing up blood.]

Shit...I've hit my limit...

[He was so close too...so close to stopping all this. To ending this hell for his friend once and for all...

He looks up, above where the dragon is, to what he's been seeing this whole time.]

I'm sorry...

[There's a human in front of him.

Restrained, wounded a hundred times over, furious, the dragon hisses, mouth curling to bare rows of red-stained teeth. He gives his head a shake, trying to wrestle off the chains, smoke and tiny flames bursting between his fangs; if he could just get his mouth open a few inches, if he could get a bit of fire out, there would be one less invader, one less of them around him, one-

--one...

know him

There's a muffled splash at his side, and he tilts his head to see. The circlet had come loose from a broken horn to land in the pool of blood near his claws. He stares at it for a long moment, struggling for breath as the chains constrict, as the air around him retracts; he remembers it, distantly. He doesn't know what it is but he knows it belongs to him, he'd carried it since he gave it to him, it was his--

treasure

There's a human in front of him, and he smells- he smells like-

know him

The fires die in his mouth, a combined lack of air and willpower to keep them active. He stares at the human, his snarls fading out into an uncertain wheeze. He doesn't move. Can't move, as if the human's presence alone is enough to hold him there, as if incapable of moving without direction, without an order, without a touch and a word from-

know him

know HIM

The sound of his cry changes again, this time to a soft, high-pitched whine. He came. He came, he's different but he came, he's changed but he's here.

free

free

fly away

fly with me--

The dragon begins to tremble, mere moments from death, but the fight is gone from his body. And with Allen close enough to reveal it now, there appears above the dragon's fallen form a small, drifting cloud of miasma, dark in colour and tethered directly to the creature from below. Inside the cloud is Mikleo.

Inside is what's left of Mikleo.

Rather than a normal flesh-and-blood form, every visible part of his body is the shade of an ethereal stone, all colour and life drained away until nothing remains but a shell. Cracks have begun to form across his ashen skin, bits of his face and body chipping away like the surface of an ancient relic deteriorated by the elements over time. Ropes of malevolence wind their way around his body, constricting, eating into it. With each passing moment another thread tightens, and another piece of his body breaks away and dissolves into the mist around him. He's already half-gone- his legs and the entire left side of his torso from shoulder to hip drift in shattered pieces throughout the cloud. The dragon whines again, and above, the fragile shadow twitches with it, as if trying to break free; his restraints grow tighter, and an ear snaps loose and turns to dust. He stares at nothing, his gaze empty, unaware or uncaring of his own degredation.

The only sign of life left in the dried husk, the only indication that he had ever been connected to life itself or the element of water, are the endless tracks of tears falling from his eyes.

And drifting in the wind is a voice- screaming, crying, pleading all at once. His voice, as broken and faded as his soul--

help me

save me

i love you

ithurtsithurtsitHURTSITHURTS

don't leave me

don't leave me alone...!!

kill me

kill me

KILL ME]

[Lailah swallows when she sees Mikleo's soul like that. It's a sight she'll take to her grave. A sight that she wishes with all her heart that Sorey doesn't have to see. She chokes back a sob at his screaming plea. Her eyes get a bit glassy, but no tears fall. Not now. She can't do that right now. So, Lailah denies herself the luxury. Slowly, the fire seraph gets off of Sorey and helps him to his feet.

There's no fight left in the dragon. It's safe enough and she knows that Sorey needs this. Lailah might be losing a friend and Sub Lord, but Sorey's losing a partner he's had for his whole life. How can she deny him this?

She gently pushes her Shepherd's back to encourage him forward.

If anyone tries to stop him this time, they'll be met with a warning flame. She has neither time nor patience left for being polite. All Lailah wants is for this to stop and be over. Sorey, Mikleo, Dezel, and Zaveid have suffered enough.

I should've been here sooner....]

[Sorey already knew.

He gazes up at Mikleo there, being slowly pried apart by darkness and pain, eaten away like morning fog, and plods forward as if entranced, Lailah's hand all the permission he needs.

He knew.

Mikleo's voice should be like music; Sorey can't count the number of times he's woken up, fallen asleep, come home to the way Mikleo calls out a request, lobs a playful insult, murmurs his name. But hearing it like this, coming from- from the wraith above the dragon. Mikleo. What his soul looks like now, after what's been done to it.

After what he did to it.

Sorey enters the bubble of Zaveid's arte and shudders for just a moment, pressing a hand to his chest. It's fine; it's fine. The arte's focused on Mikleo, so it's not so bad for a small human, with small lungs to fill. But he can hear Mikleo wheezing into the bloody muck, can feel the weight on the ground of his surrender. As if dreaming, Sorey falls to his knees beside the great head.

He picks the circlet out of the muck and tucks it inside of his shirt.]

I have your treasure. It's safe with me.

[Sorey leans forward to peer into one great eye, sparing a glance for the Mikleo suspended above. Can Mikleo see him like this? Is it just a representation? No- his body is still the dragon's. He's in there.

Mikleo's eye fixes on his face and Sorey knows.]

Hey, [he wheezes, draping himself over Mikleo's head and stroking the ridge of his eye. His eyes burn but the tears stand still, unwilling to fall. Sorey drags a palm over the scales of Mikleo's muzzle.] It's okay. Shh shhhh, it's okay. It's over now, I'm here. You can rest if you want.

[no, please]

An- [Sorey chokes, shudders, takes another breath,] and when it's all over, we'll go exploring together. I'm not sure where, but, hey. [He laughs, light, gasping. Mikleo's wheezes quiet; Sorey presses his mouth against Mikleo's head, just in case he can't hear anymore, just in case he needs to feel it.] Not knowing where we're going is half the fun of exploring, right?

[You're impossible, Sorey.]

I know. [Sorey closes his eyes. Don't leave me. Don't go, Mikleo, I can't-] That's me. Reckless. I'm going to have to ask you to wait for me; I need to make up for the trouble I caused. I know I told you it's okay if you explore without me, but just this one time- just this once, [no] just hang on until I get there, okay?

[no]

You know how I hate falling behind.

[This entire time, Stefan had taken a step back and observed. This was far, far deeper than he had ever imagined, and even though he'd just gained the ability to perceive malevolence and seraphim and their whole world - he couldn't say that it came without a price - and -

Allen, Allen's legs -

Stefan hadn't been around to see Allen's legs get injured, let alone understand that those ribbons were what kept his friend walking. Without thinking, Stefan rushes to Allen's side, hastily cradling the guy as if his entire life depended on it. At this point, he's sure he looks like a hot mess: his hair's all ungelled, flopping down in front of his eyes and blocking his vision; he's got mud on basically every single inch of his body; and none of that matters. Not anymore.] You've got nothing to apologize for.

[Really. Allen, Eithan, Lailah - they were the ones who purified Sorey, and they weren't the one who walked back fifteen minutes late with far too much coffee for one person to consume.

As he peers up at the dragon, at the shell that was once Mikleo, he lets out a horrified gasp at - he's not even sure, Mikleo's - if Stefan feels like this, then Sorey - then let Sorey handle this the best he can. Just as Stefan's focusing on keeping his friend stable and secure, so too is Sorey (in his own right).]

Edited 2016-09-14 02:17 (UTC)

[Dezel isn't sure what everyone is looking at, since he can't see it, but he can hear Mikleo perfectly. His cries of pain make even Dezel wince. It never should've been like this-- it never should've ended like this, and Dezel feels some responsibility, just like everyone else. He'd gone with Mikleo to try and stop Sorey's fall. It'd been too late. Too late for all of them. Mikleo had saved his life by telling him to break the pact, but Dezel can't do anything except watch him die.

It's Sorey who steps fearlessly up to the dragon, Sorey who wraps his arms around him, Sorey who makes little promises and speaks of the future like Mikleo has one. Freeing himself of Zaveid's wind, finally, he moves over to the other wind seraph and props him up with his shoulder.

This isn't a victory. There are no winners here, only suffering and war wounds that will never go away.]

[ The scene unfolds and it hurts to watch; something burns in the back of Zaveid's throat and it's punishing more than anything else. He's caused this, and he's aware of it - it's his wind that's trapping Mikleo down, draining the air out of him, his wind that's reshaping itself around Sorey so that the human doesn't suffocate too. All of this is him, because he's the one that came up here with the sole purpose of killing Mikleo. He was taking that burden onto his shoulders, and watching as Sorey moves to speak to his friend... He knows that things won't ever be the same.

Maybe it's selfish, but he'd kind of liked being a Sub Lord. He'd enjoyed wandering around with the others, kicking hellion ass and doing something good. It had made a change from being alone, from only having himself, from haunting a mountain where the dead-but-alive friend he'd loved curled through their air as an omen. He'd even thought that, maybe, one day, he'd end up travelling with the next Shepherd, and the next one, because he believed in Sorey, believed in his mission, his cause, all of it.

Now? All of that seems a distant memory, something swiped from his fingertips before it could really become an actual dream.

(Who really wants to travel with a murderer anyway?)

The artes are draining his strength, and with everything that's happened to him over the last few days - the fear, the horror, the tugs on his soul that knocked him down each time, knowing that Sorey was searching for him and would create something unspeakable with him, all tied up with coming face to face with the pinicle of it all... It's too much. Zaveid is exhausted, and when Dezel comes over and shifts, propping him up, he finally drops a little, letting go. He can't stand tall anymore, not with all his strength being sapped away, and he grits his teeth as he does everything in his power to make sure this is really, truly the end.

And then all he can see is black, dropping against Dezel and passing out. ]

[The ghost of Mikleo's soul goes still and silent the moment Sorey's hand touches his scales. As if recognizing that his cries have been heard, he merely waits for the end. Below, the dragon shivers, his remaining violet eye glazed and unblinking as it stares up at the human speaking to him. He offers no response to the words directly, holding in the last remaining gasp, yet he takes in each and every word with a sense of peace beyond the capacity of a wild animal.

"It's safe with me."

safe

"You can rest."

rest

"Wait for me."

wait...?

The words are so calm, the voice so familiar, one he couldn't name even if given a hundred years to try and remember; one he could never forget, even so. He feels safe. Dying, and he feels safe.

know him

know you

Slowly, he closes his eye, allowing the voice and those gentle hands to guide him towards the sleep his body is crying out for so desperately. And then the wraith speaks again, the sound of it nearly lost in the breeze, as hushed as the gentle flow of a forest stream from a mile away. His voice is in Sorey's ear, like it should be. Like it used to be.

Like himself again. Almost, almost like music.

it's okay.

you'll be okay.

thank you.

The dragon, no, Mikleo exhales one final time - it's light and cool, and it wraps around Sorey like an embrace. It smells like spring, the air just before it rains. One last flicker of purity as a corrupted monster dies.

He does not breathe again.]

Stefan...

[He doesn't notice Stefan approaching until he's being pulled into his arms, getting cradled. He's surprised by the sudden support around him, but it's very appreciated. He slumps against Stefan, feeling drained.

He moves his head to look at the scene. At Sorey talking and at the soul finding its salvation. He's a little surprised...seeing the soul get released instead of destroyed by the darkness...how's that possible? Zaveid shouldn't be under the pact anymore...

But Allen is not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. With the Akuma disappearing, his curse deactivates, no longer urging him on to fight, to destroy the Akuma. ]

Pitiful Akuma, may your soul find salvation...

[He murmurs his old prayer, quietly, right before he loses consciousness and goes limp in Stefan's arms. It's over, he's allowed to rest.]

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