[RP] Final Fantasy XIII: The Butterfly Effect.

Three consecutive explosions resonated through the air. The rebellion was still in its earnest, perhaps taking both the lives of Purgees and PSICOM soldiers with little regard. Yet despite the occurrences in the background, it did little to distract Wisel. The atmosphere in this confrontation between the two women was tense and heavy. One wrong move from one of the two and one would end up no more than another military casualty regardless of who struck who. As far as the Primarch herself was concerned, Wisel was merely just another soldier, a competent soldier nonetheless, and in this climate, crucial for survival. Perhaps had it been another one of her Cavalrymen, they would stand no chance in this form of confrontation but for Wisel, this was a woman who nevertheless she could not afford to greatly antagonise. It was evident that neither trusted one another. If any alliance could be forged for the greater good, it could only be one of major fragility.

Wisel had patiently listened to the Primarch's calm diatribe; she expected this and perhaps she was not the most calculating of Cocoon's military figures, she was not foolish enough to believe that simple politeness - or an attempt at it - could garner her immediate support. Still, a lot of her speech made little matter to Wisel anyway. For now they had the same goal and that to her took far greater precedence than their conflict of ideas. She took a hard glance at the Primarch - her rapier gleaming. That rapier; the very weapon that has caused so much Fal'Cie blood to be shed. Such beauteous and wondrous power, yet so terrifying at the same time, a dichotomy on its own. Her own hand gripping the hilt of her Manadrive Blade, she held it up. The photon streams running down her left arm emanated a brilliant yellow hue glow and eventually the streams ran outwards from the end of Wisel's weapon that currently had no blade. With the photon stream complete, a glowing blade formed almost immediately. Brandishing her weapon masterfully, Wisel aimed it at her opponent.

That flicker of surprise from the Primarch there, was she not expecting her to draw her sword against her? What was on her mind now? Was Wisel in her mind, now completely deciding to gamble everything and likely throw her life away? She retaliated with Peacekeeper, brandishing it straight towards her new opponent. Wisel seemed unfazed. Her antenna was flashing almost uncontrollably. It soon became clear to the Primarch Elicia now why she brandished her sword.

The entire bridge walkway trembled violently as a Scorpion Warmech catapulted itself from beneath upwards, straight onto the opposite side of the bridge, its visible crimson core at the centre also uncontrollably flashing. Its 'stinger' tail ominously opened up to reveal a series of equipped missiles, preferably designed for their homing capabilities. The Warmech's claws looked like they had undergone severe damage and erosion and in any undamaged incarnation of this machine, those claws would have acted simultaneously as defensive shields to nullify most physical hits against it. This Warmech had evidently fought a battle previously and for whatever reason, been severely damaged prior to this moment in time. Its unceremonious presence seemed a great fascination to the Primarch. Never before had a Sanctum machine ever targeted her presumably. To Wisel, this occurrence was rare.

"Sanctum Scorpio Warmech Mk III," Wisel hissed, "Based on the frequent flashing of the core, I can only assume that it is now unable to distinguish between friend and foe. With the quality of Sanctum military equipment, this is not something that often occurs. It must have taken a severe attack beforehand!" The direction of the Manadrive was now not towards the fatal direction of the Primarch, but to the rogue Warmech. With the ongoing Purge causing hell around them, nothing would surprise Wisel now. The Primarch herself on the other hand, was still brandishing her Peacekeeper towards Wisel momentarily before slowly switching targets to the Warmech itself.
"Your Eminence," said Wisel, careful to keep her voice unfaltering, "You and I are L'Cie both. If I were to truly classify you as a lifeless puppet of the Fal'Cie would be clearly fallacious. Ultimately our enemy, the Fal'Cie still command the divine authority of this realm. While I do not doubt your powers as Primarch, it is in our interests both to build a better world without the Fal'Cie. We are both choosing to defy our Focuses. We are therefore willing to defy the Fal'Cie. Neither of us are puppets of anyone. Perhaps you serve only one, I however, serve the people as a soldier. As I have always done! Yet also I do not see anyone as a tool. This is particularly evident in my contingency. No one is a tool there, we are all comrades banding together for that one greater goal. That was the lesson I had attained in the military."

Wisel immediately leapt straight into the air, the incredible height achieved by the photon coursing through her legs. The Warmech retaliated almost immediately, with its arsenal of missiles that tore through the air at breakneck speed. With the Manadrive Blade ready, she rapidly slashed aside all incoming missiles, even sending several rebounding straight against the Warmech's armour itself, culminating in a series of small yet colourful explosions that would not look out of place among the other explosions that were resonating around the entire area. Swooping down straight towards the Warmech, the Manadrive Blade wasted no time in mechanically converting to a firearm mode. The core itself spun ceaselessly, emanating another wave of bright yellow-hue light while a burst of the artificially created 'Manadrive Thundara' attack rained down on the machine itself, engulfing it with tremendous force.
 
Unused to the labyryntihne causeways and bridges of the Hanging Edge, Alexander must have lost his way somewhere, and he certainly couldn't see the other soldier that he had been chasing earlier.

He slowed his speed, as he was now in an unknown area, and a group of rebels could be waiting behind any blockade, or be preparing an ambush from any of the walkways above, and he would need as much of his energy as possible should these situations occur.

He continued, keeping his wits about him, and his sword drawn, point towards the ground. Every so often he would glance over his shoulder, never quite sure if he was being followed. During one of these momentary glances over his shoulder, he walked into something solid. Fearing the worst, he turned his head to face forward, but it was not exactly what he was expecting.

He had walked into one of the uprights of an enormous archway. Inspecting the structure in front of him, he thought to himself, "could this be it, could this be the Bodhum Vestige?" His curiosity spurred him on more than anything else, he knew it had been moved, but to have found it in this, of all places, and he knew there was meant to be a Fal'cie inside...

Perhaps he could just go in and have a look, after all, the Fal'cie did all but provide everything for everyone in Cocoon, it couldn't hurt, could it?
 
Stevie limped around, losing his way for a moment. His sense of direction was lacking in normal situations, and this was hardly normal. If he couldn’t feel every bone in his body, he would have no doubt been wondering what this meant for him, and anyone else still alive. As it was, the pain was blocking his thoughts.

He could hear footsteps, gunshots occasionally, but no bothered him. He didn’t even wonder who the people were, and why they were still fighting. He just stumbled around, occasionally almost falling. He wasn’t built to take this much of a beating and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep on his feet. That he had made it this far was a testament to his strength.

Then he heard what he thought was crying, it was muffled by somewhere close. For a moment, he considered falling on the ground and joining them, letting go the small amount of willpower he had left, that kept him standing, and bursting into tears. However, in between all that had happened, he had started to operate purely on logic, whether than emotion. He was numb to feeling.

He headed toward where he thought the crying was coming from slowly, although he could now walk better. His leg was still slightly sore but apparently it hadn’t been too injured. Finally he found himself near the sound. Crouching behind some wreckage, he looked around it, hoping to avoid few until he saw if the person posed a threat.

He saw a blonde boy, who looked a view years younger than him with blonde hair. Must have been on the train, he thought. The boy didn’t seem to pose a threat, and it seemed like he was really upset. Probably scared, thought Stevie, and not that I can blame him, I don’t know how I’m still standing. He made a decision then and there, and walked over. Without waiting for a sign that the boy knew he approached, Stevie spoke.

“Are you okay?”
 
"are you ok?"

Connor Jerked his head upwards and Stared straight into face of a person. He looked no older than he was and looked very beat up. Connor Raised his arm up to his eyes and rubbed the tears away.

"I-I- fine..."he replied shakily. he used the robot for balance as he stood up. His legs were shaky so he had grip the robot Tightly.

"T-T-Than you for helping me.." He murmered. He Leaned on his staff for support as he straightened up. he chanced a fear full glance at his surroundings before looking at this person.

"Your really beat up...hold on." Connor pulled some potions out of his pack and Handed them to the boy. "W-whats your name..?" he asked Shyly.
 
Stevie had been right. For all intents and purposes, the boy was harmless. He wished he could say the same thing about the place they were. Looking around, he had no clue where they were, or what they should do next. All they had were each other, unless they could find someone else to help them.

“My name is Stevie,”

He wondered what the boy’s name was but didn’t ask just yet. Instead, he tried to think of something to say to make things seem better, or to comfort the boy. He was clearly still deep in shock and was probably just moments from breaking down even more than he already had. Stevie couldn’t think of anything positive to say, so he just stood there awkwardly for a moment.

He wondered if he should try to smile, if that would maybe cheer the boy up a little. He hadn’t been around many people his own age or younger, so he wasn’t sure how to handle this. So he gave up on any thought of comforting him for the moment. It was then that he realized he hadn’t even asked his name.

“What’s your name?”
 
“Mind not pushing me? And what’s this about needing a hand and helping your brother? How do you even know I’m heading to the Vestige? For all you know, I could be a…a PSICOM soldier in disguise, sent to kill you and anyone in the Vestige. And saved me from the Purge!? You almost got us all killed! You crashed the only speedy transportation that was likely to take us RIGHT by the Vestige. If you really wanted to save your brother, you would have been a bit more cautious.”
"Blah, blah, blah, you talk too much!" Rasche smiled. "If you were a soldier then you wouldn't have been in the purge and the Vestige is less that fifty meter's away."

Rasche then smiled at the panicky boy. "You're too overheated."

“…But, I guess it’s your lucky day. Since I’m heading towards the Vestige anyway, I…guess I can help you.”
"Are you?! haha Thanks" Said Rasche hugging the other boy before beginning to make his way to the Vestige entrance.

"You must be crazy trying to go in there."

"Haha What are you coming too miss?" Rasche replied to a woman who had appeared from the wreckage.

"If you're right bout that fal'Cie, then you're gonna need all the help you can get. Though I warn ya, it's suicide."

"Haha You're warning us but yet you join?" Rasche asked thoughtfully.

He didn't mind, either way he had gotten his way and would use this help in order to rescue his older brother. "Let's go then!" Rasche spoke running toward the Vestige entrance. It wasn't a long jog as the Vestige was right beside him. "Keep close and be careful you two." Rasche spoke happily to the others as he entered through an opened doorway.

Luckily once inside the Vestige doorways through a long hall had begun to open. The Fal 'Cie inside must have sensed him being a L'Cie. The inside of the Vestige was just as large as he remembered. Rasche was not worried. "Be careful monsters litter this place." he said as surely enough Cie'th had come staggering towards them.
 
Elicia heard Wisel's sword burst into life, her grim smile transforming into one of pure, undisguised pleasure. She had chosen the bloody path, then. Very well. She would soon know fear for her own life, perhaps for the first time since she had been turned into a l'Cie. After all, if a Fal'Cie stood no chance against her, this woman certainly did not. Coruscating fire flashed along the length of her own blade in answer. An energy blade stood no chance against Peacekeeper. She spun, eager for battle, only to find her opponent's back to her, as she prepared to engage with a Warmech that had just made it's way onto the bridge, and was now advancing on them.

An eyebrow briefly flicked upward in surprise. What precisely was that piece of trash doing here? Bad enough that the soldiers could not do their jobs properly without dying in the hundreds, they could not even keep their own technology under control? If there were any left alive down there, she would kill them personally when she was finished. This was most irritating. It always fell to Elicia to clean up humanity's mess.

"What inconvenient timing." was all she said, as she thrust her free hand outward, casting first Protect, and then Shell, on her companion. It would be very inconvenient if she died at this point by a hand other than Elicia's own, for she was not finished evaluating her potential usefulness. She had already moved forward to engage it, attacking it with a rather pitiful spell. She was not even going to use her own l'Cie powers against this machine? Elicia knew she was capable of more than that. What was she trying to prove here?

Elicia cast Haste on herself once more, and then darted forward, a white blur as she moved past a surprised-looking Wisel, who had just landed, and closed on the Warmech in a heartbeat. A leap carried her forward and onto it's head. Peacekeeper lashed out, a column of fire, severing the top half of the tail as easily as it had the wings of the Fal'Cie she had slain earlier. It whirled about as the loss registered, seeking the opponent responsible, but Elicia had already stepped off of it's head and now stood directly in front of it, almost close enough to reach out and touch it's shell. She took one small, precise step backwards as it noticed her, swiping at her with a mangled claw that brushed through the air inches away from her face. She did not bother raising Peacekeeper to counterattack, but sheathed it instead and, completely ignoring the Warmech, turned to face Wisel for the first time. She stared into the woman's eyes, her face expressionless.

"You cannot even strike this creature down in a single blow? How much of a chance do you think you would stand against a Fal'Cie? You disappoint me, Brigadier General. Where are the actions, the power, to back up those words you so foolishly spoke earlier? I am waiting. Show me that you are not simply just another worthless incompetent."
 
Back in the train, but more on edge than she’d even been, Sakiko, along with the other Purgees, once again had their lives in the hands of Tierce. His driving skills at a slow and steady pace was very impressive, yes, but would it be as impressive when going at full speed. It would need to be if he didn’t want that last remaining guard - who at this point had not only a granade in his hand, but he was aiming his rocket launcher at the train. It was only until just the right moment, that Sakiko had noticed that, and if she wanted to secure their safety, something would have to be done, but she knew no magic, no special skills - nothing.

“Damn damn damn” Her words full of anger, Sakiko knew that if the grenade missed, the rocket would not. That god-forsaken Rocket Launcher - that has a homing device to all of Cocoons machines - would for sure catch, and blow up the train, or in the most, blow off a side of the train. Even if that’s the case, Sakiko refused to see the dark part of this all. Yeah, sure there are chances of this train to go boom, but it’s not like that’s going to happen if Tierce keeps the good driving up.

So no worries. In her mind, Sakiko told herself that over and over again, but it never made its way to stay.

Curious to see how far the train was away from the soldier, Sakiko took a little peek out of the window, just out of curiosity. When her blue eyes came to a gaze at the dark night that was outside, she noticed that the guard was nowhere to be in sight - not in front, left, nor right - nowhere. A big relief came to her as a look of calmness came to her face. Though, this was short-lived.

From above her, the guard came down, grabbing Sakiko from the hair, only to carry her by her waist. This put Sakiko in a bad situation. Not only did the guard catch up to the train, but he got the only form of protection that they had. Now, mind you, Sakiko still had her sword and such, but in the position she was in right now, there wasn’t a high chance of her being able to use it, and strike down the guard. If she were to, not only would she have lost the only leverage that she had of living, but she would fall down to her death, and that wasn’t going to happen.

With the passengers of the train only to look on as it drifted away into the night, and only Sakiko and this guard were the one’s in the light of Cocoon. In her eyes, Sakiko could see the train going away, but to her left, she could also see the Hanging Edge, and by the angle the Guard’s body was, he was taking her there. Now if she could play her cards right, she could get this dim-witted guard to forceably fly the two of them over there. With the plan made up, Sakiko put it into action.

“Hey dumb-dumb, I bet your not so mighty if we fought on equal grounds.” Her words full of mockery towards the Guard.

In response to this, the guard’s pride was shattered, and to be insulted by a girl none less. It was only a matter of minutes that the poor, poor guard would fly the two of them to the Hanging edge. Just barely two feet above the platform, Sakiko kicked the guard in the place no man should ever be kicked at, she was able to land safely on it, and as for the guard, he was quite distracted by the pain he was now going through. This was Sakiko’s chance.

With eyes fixated on the guard, Sakiko unsheathed her Ninjato, and with the chain in hand, Sakiko began twirling the Ninjato in the air. Of course she took a stance to where it wouldn’t get her anywhere on her body, for that would be most unfortunate. Body poised in perfect fighting stance: legs parallel of each other with her body facing a forty degree angle clockwise of her, right arm gripping the dagger, and the left arm twirling the chain w/ Ninjato. In the same moment she took this stance, the speed of the chain increased rather fast, and it was only in a matter of moments that the chain had gotten so fast in speed, that it was like an Airplane propeller.

With that, Sakiko took the momentum from the chain, and added it to her own as she jumped up Into the air, but of course she caught the ninjato, and then reversed her weaponry. In this, she was now holding the Ninjato, and the chain and dagger was launched forward to the guard - who now just realized his pain was just in his imagination, though too late for his count. With one strike, a pierce to the heart was met when the Dagger went strait through the armor, and even the metal plating. It was, the velocity it was going at, and the precise accuracy, that allowed the instant kill.

With that bothersome man out of her way, Sakiko now found her way out of harms way for now, but she was alone…or so she thought. Hearing it slightly, but very much so, Sakiko could hear sounds of some kind of beast in the distance, the only problem was identifying if it was friend of foe.

Her day just got more interesting.
 
OOC: Hope you guys don't mind that I added details to the Vestige and the doors of the Vestige. xD


Being hugged by Rasche was a bit unexpected for Renton. He wasn’t used to that kind of treatment. Most people in Bodhum just wanted to pick fights with him, avoid him, or try and insult him for one reason or another. Usually when Renton used his cold shoulder tactic on someone, they left him alone or pegged him as an inconsiderate ass. Rasche? He seems to write off everything that Renton says or does lightheartedly, and even seems to be misinterpreting the emotional output of his words.

This little incident was probably a result of being nice to him.

“God damn it. That’s the last time I try and be nice to someone.” He was fuming. Not as much as before, oddly enough, but still fuming. This was the first time he has met someone so…carefree in a way. It was very irritating, to say the least. Rasche was an odd one, indeed. And probably won’t be getting off of Renton’s annoyance list any time soon.

However, he was heading towards the Pulse Vestige, same as Renton. Why not travel with him, at least for now? Four hands are always better than two, and the fact he has zero knowledge about Pulse artifacts or anything regarding Pulse could leave him in a serious bind if he just wandered in there alone. Based on Cocoon reports and from his Bodhum education (or what he got out of it, when he did go to class) of Pulse artifacts, it was very likely there would be traps. Or things one person couldn’t solve by themselves. Besides, if things get rough inside the Vestige, he could easily sneak off if another person was in tow and leave that person to their fates; like a sacrifice. He had to reach the Pulse Fal’cie. He was determined.
Before Renton was able to follow Rasche, the pair was intercepted by another voice. A female voice.

""You must be crazy trying to go in there. If you're right bout that fal'Cie, then you're gonna need all the help you can get. Though I warn ya, it's suicide." The woman effortlessly launched herself from the stack of cars, while asserting this claim. Although, it did seem like she wanted to help, which was an oxymoronical statement in of itself, as she herself was presently aware of the dangers inside the Pulse Vestige.

“Yeah, yeah, Ms. Idealism. You obviously don’t think much of the dangers if you’re willing to come along.” Renton rolled his eyes. He didn’t care too much for her assertion, or for her warnings. He wanted to get to the Fal’cie. The dangers came with the territory. Waving his hand as if to dismiss her claim, he followed Rasche into the Pulse Vestige.


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Rasche was just one big giant oxymoron. It seems everyone in this damn Purge was an oxymoron. Rasche warned of danger, yet smiled happily. This female who has yet to reveal her name seemed worried about the danger and claimed it was suicide, yet seemed to be willing to help. It was downright irritating to Renton. Although, as it has been guessed at by now, a lot of things irritate him.

“Whatever. Let’s just get inside.” There was a hint of apathy in his voice. At this point, if they could just get inside and get to the Fal’cie that’d be great. At the rate they were going, and with the amount of exposition that is being thrown around, it would take the group ages.

As the group made its way down one of the large (at least, Renton assumed there were multiple hallways like this one) wrapping hallways of the Vestige, they came to a door. The door had an odd symbol on it, square in nature but with branching arrow-like lines protruding from the center. It was intriguing…yet eerie at the same time. As in response to them entering, or by some other unknown force, the door opened. A bright light emitted from the lines of the symbol, filling up the odd hieroglyph. The door split open in the middle, the two parts returning into the ancient walls.

But the most impressive part was the inside of the Vestige.

All across the Vestige, silvery shards shimmered (say that five times fast) and glided on the wind, washing an ethereal feel over the entire construct. Large pillars, with dimly lighted orbs, lined the walkways. The whole area was domed, extending upwards into darkness – the roof was nowhere in sight. Above, more walkways – alluding to the fact there were multiple levels to the structure.

“…We’re supposed to find the Fal’cie in this behemoth? Oh, this is going to be FUN.” Renton commented, sighing before leaning against one of the pillars. Before moving on, he believed they needed a plan.

His rest wouldn’t be for long, however; trouble was already brewing. Although Rasche’s warning of monsters was admirable, it was a bit too late for that. A screeching sound echoed across the Vestige, eventually joined in by multiple screeching. It was like one giant horror movie. Before Renton, or anyone for that matter, could question the situation, an answer was received. Cie’th. L’cie who did not complete their Focus.

A group of them had begun staggering towards them down the pathway, murderous intent in their cold eyes. They were probably the security of the Pulse Vestige. Looking to his sides, Renton tried to find another way to go. Since it was the ground floor, there was no way to go down. The only way was up. And the lift mechanism was down the pathway. Behind the Cie’th.

“Well. Looks like we have a fight on our hands.” Renton smirked, before launching himself towards the enemies in front of him. He was a human, and did not know how much damage he would be able to do to a Cie’th, but he had to try. He had to get to that damn Fal’cie!
 
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[FONT=&quot]The Warmech angrily retaliated, its claws lunging forwards, its rogue programming now drove it to one purpose. The two women easily dodged just seconds before impact as the claws managed to penetrate through the surface layers of the bridge they were on, leading to an instant destabilisation of the entire structure. This rogue machine did not care who or what it was attacking. Considering these creations were supposed to be the paragon of Cocoon technology, Wisel could only express disappointment in how inept they were, yet simultaneously, she expressed delight in the ineptness of PSICOM, who to her were nothing more than youths posing as armoured executioners with military training significantly below the adequate level. The Warmech lunged at them once again, like a frantic individual attempting to incur one last major offensive strike. Wisel gracefully somersaulted backwards hastily to avoid this next offensive attack. The Primarch herself could have easily delivered the deathblow, and yet she did not. Clearly, the term ‘underwhelmed’ was inadequate when describing what was on her mind now; that glare of both amusement and maliciousness also etched upon her. Fool, Wisel quietly thought to herself, did she honestly believe that her powers were this limited? When had she ever exhibited the intentions of striking down this machine with a single blow? [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“Your Eminence, if you believe that this is the limit of my capabilities, you are of course, sorely mistaken, though I doubt that was the case. The powers of a L’Cie, though formidable, are nothing more than cursed powers, no more cursed than the brands etched on us, threatening to count down the days until the Fal’Cie that have enslaved us take us as sacrifices. I very reluctantly use them, although if Your Grace is underwhelmed by the marvels of artificially-created magic, then I have little choice at this moment.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]The Warmech’s claws were now ballistic, indiscriminately attacking anything that was close enough in proximity. Wisel wasted no time in finishing this now. She tore the glove on her right hand off, revealing the L’Cie brand on her palm. Its arrows were far greater in number since the last, and only occasion, when she had laid eyes on it. Cursed mark, she hissed silently to herself, its irremovable nature was an everlasting testament to her fealty to the wretched Fal’Cie. This mark, branded on her along with a mission of horror she could not even envisage; it was not binding her to this fate. She was going to defy this fate and face the Fal’Cie head on. Perhaps then, she could die not as a mere Fal’Cie slave, but as a human, still independent in thought and mind.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Wisel leapt onto one of the claws and proceeded to run across its charred surface to land a decent counterblow to the Warmech’s most vulnerable spot, its core. The Haste spell engulfed her momentarily in radiant green light, as she rapidly accelerated straight towards the core of the Warmech. Accompanying the Synergist spell she had just used, it was coupled with Bravery, enhancing her physical capabilities by approximately double. This combination alone would provide Wisel with an already sufficient advantage to deal the finishing blow, although she had another weapon on hand to maximise damage. With her hand firmly clutching on the hilt of her brandished Manadrive Blade, yellow streams of photon once again descended down her arm and straight into the sword’s core, emerging through into the blade itself, engulfing it in a brilliant yellow light. Enhanced by the photon streams, her physical attributes had now doubled further. She spun downwards straight towards the flashing core itself. In those few seconds before impact, she envisaged the core being an eye, with an iris and a pupil; an eye angrily staring back at her, like a furious Fal’Cie incandescent with rage towards her defiance. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]After the enormous explosion that culminated, the machine itself collapsed, its core pierced and the impact of the blast virtually annihilating its major parts. As the bridge trembled and ultimately began losing its foundations, the skeletal-like remains of this once formidable machine sunk into the abyss below…[/FONT]
 
[OOC: I like that description...think I'll take it a bit more literally, to make things more interesting =3]

As the machine exploded, Elicia could have sworn she saw the flash of an eye in the middle of it. An eye she knew very well indeed. It was unusual that a machine would attack like that – no amount of damage explained it. Perhaps this was not as random as it appeared. Only one would have orchestrated this.

What is your angle is this? What would you care for this insignificant creature? She is not your l’Cie, is she? Branding her with the Focus of killing me would be rather pointless…have we not already danced this dance? Running out of ideas? Or perhaps…you’re desperate. Perhaps you’re the only one left. Perhaps.

Patience. I’ll find you soon enough, and then the games will end. This I promise you.

So, did it want Wisel dead, or alive? It appeared Elicia had another reason to keep her alive a while longer…at least until she determined her Fal’Cie’s interest in her…assuming there was one. Either way, it would not hurt to keep her alive for a while longer.

“Let me see that.” Elicia moved up to Wisel, grasping her wrist in a grip of iron as she turned her arm over, examining the mark on her hand. She did not have to raise her arm by very much, for the woman was taller than she was. After a few brief moments, she thrust her away, expressionless, “You are far along indeed.” Evidently her Fal’Cie had cottoned on that she was not about to fulfil her Focus – whatever that was – and had decided to hasten the process. How unfortunate for her.

“You are wrong, of course. About a great many things. I shall not go into depth – no doubt it would depress us both – but I shall correct you on one matter. The l’Cie marks. They are nothing but pitiful attempts to scare l’Cie into completing their Focus. You require proof of this assertion? You have but to look at my own.” Elicia unclasped the belt, calmly removing her coat. Her left arm was exposed, yet the right was wrapped in bandages. Slowly, she unwrapped the bandages, casting them aside, to drift lazily in the wind and down into the ruined settlement below. Her own mark was different in design to Wisel’s – of course, she had gotten hers long before Wisel and, she supposed, Fal’Cie changed them like humans changed the fashion of their clothing. Hers was also black, although it snaked down her entire arm, incomprehensible arrows, lines, circles and archaic patterns that she did not care to guess the meaning of, if indeed there was a meaning. The eye was open, and appeared to blaze with its own inner fire, a thing alive with malice. She looked at it for a few moments, and then bent to retrieve her coat, not looking at Wisel again until she had belted it up, the mark hidden from view once again.

“They are just marks. Nothing more. They are only a timer to your demise if you believe that they are – tell me, Brigadier General, what does my mark say about me, if you are correct? Your way of thinking seals your fate. You cannot fight back, for you are already sure that you have lost. You have admitted defeat, Brigadier General. Your refusing to use your abilities is not in defiance to the Fal’Cie who seeks to use you or due to your imagined contempt for them. You are simply denying reality. You have given up. You may deny it with words, in your thoughts, but you do not possess the strength of will to make your denial a reality. You are too weak.”

“Spare me your nonsense about curses and corruption. Power is power. It is not righteous, or cursed. It simply is. The power you have been given is yours to wield as you see fit. It only becomes cursed if you use it for a purpose that you perceived as cursed, and become cursed yourself. You are well and truly enmeshed in the Fal’Cie’s psychological trap, for your thinking to be this way. I see your future, for I have seen it happen to countless others. You will struggle on, accomplishing nothing, and you will be turned into a mindless Cieth or trapped within a crystal, for this is what you believe must happen. You are resigned to what you believe is an inevitable death. I believe there is a saying – “It is the immature man that wishes to die for a noble cause, whilst it is the mature man that wishes to live humbly for one.” Tell me, Brigadier General, which are you? Do you seek to die in vain, or do you seek to live?”

She turned away, her voice dropping to barely a whisper, “I thought as you did, once. So many years ago now. The same. It is ever the same. None of you possess the strength of will to fight at my side. None of you know what it is to fight. You are young, and have potential, but you do not have the time to learn by yourself what it is to fight. A pity, really…” she drew Peacekeeper, spinning about, the weapon to the other woman’s throat before she had even the slightest chance to react. She held it steady, the tip almost touching the skin.

“Shall I end it now, then? This life, which you have given up? If you believe yourself fated to die at the hands of a Fal’Cie…well, then why not me? For I know what it is to be a l’Cie, and I shall grant you a swift death. Well, Brigadier General? What say you?”

A life given back, a life taken away, it was all the same to Elicia. If Wisel did not possess the strength to fight, what use was she? Elicia would grant her mercy, far more than her Fal’Cie master would…the sensation of becoming a Cieth was not pleasant, and she did not care to imagine what the full transformation would feel like. If her words could not reach her, nothing could. She was ever humanity’s saviour, and she would save Wisel, for it did not appear that she could save herself. Or could she?
 
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Connor Looked more intently at Stevie.

"Nice name."

He faced away

"my name is Connor and im sure your wondering why im here."

Connor's voice strangely had some venom in it. He didnt know wy. but at this moment Didn't exactly care.

" Im from eden. A day ago i witnessed a Male L'cie fail his focus. he attempted to tell us how L'cie arent evil. So i thought about it. I wondered if L'cie were evil. or were they like me? Pathetic and Neglected. I did some reasearched and found no Accurate reason to hating the L'cie. SO I decided to become a L'cie" proove that they are just like normal people."

His eyes wre shut and couldnt see the Reaction Stevie had.

"I snuck aboard a Purge train. and Jumped after it reached a suitible place. I fell unconsious after the fall. I dont know how much time passed when I was unconsious. But i woke up. I wandered around and saw some people fighting this giant robot."

Connor pointed to the destroyed mech.

"They beat it quite easily. It surprised me. So i followed. I needed help and they were the closest people i could find. But I never got to them in time. I reached here and They were out of sight. Terrified and weak. I sat down here and sobbed. Then you came. and well..its all history."

He opened his eyes and stared into the horizon. The sounds of some fighting had reached his ears.

"Theres some fighting going on. And..I intend to check it out. mabey find someway to become a L'cie. I dont care if you think its crazy...It-it's going to happen.."

Connor Shook himself and Silently walked up the hill and Towards the noise. He turned around and said

"Well...Do you feel like traveling with me? its ok if you don't want too but...."

Connor trailed off. He was looking at Stevie. He wondered what the answer was gonna be.
 
OOC: I've used a simple blizzard spell in this, if it's a bother Diar let me know and i'll edit it out :gasp:

As he approached the creature, David was quickly overwhelmed by a strange light, his body began to tense and recoil in pain. As he fell to his knees, clutching his head a mix of pain and power flowed through him and radiated from his hands, it felt cold and yet flowed like water, it was hard to describe as his head took a fresh beating of pulsing pain and his arm began to burn over his GG Crest as a strange brand appeared in it's place.

As this pain began to subside his eyes saw nothing but darkness as images filled his mind in split-second flashes of fire, a woman with a strange blade and of a sudden collapse before he came back to his senses. With the pain gone he slowly rose to his feet, trying to regain awareness of where he was.

A strange amount of strength could be felt through his body, he felt stronger and faster and something new to him which he wasn't aware of yet. Turning around he saw someone in the distance "Was this your doing!? Is this some kind of trap?" raising his hand to point in accusation, a strange light appeared in his hand as a blast of ice was sent at the stranger. grabbing his right wrist he observed his hand, that wasn't what he had intended, did he have new power? Had he become... A L'Cie?
 
"Haha You're warning us but yet you join?"

“Yeah, yeah, Ms. Idealism. You obviously don’t think much of the dangers if you’re willing to come along.”

"Well whatever you want." Jeanne said in a nonchalant tone, but they were right. She caught herself in her words. But that didn't matter, if they want to find their brother, they would have to do it quick. They seemed confident enough to take on whatever it is in there.

Jeanne followed the group as they walked into the Vestige, walking down a large hallway, up to a strange-looking door. It appeared to have detected their approach as the doors automatically opened in itself and revealed the interior to such a wondrous place.

“…We’re supposed to find the Fal’cie in this behemoth? Oh, this is going to be FUN.”

"He's right, if we are going to find the fal'Cie, we are going to need a plan of action." Just soon, a screeching sound could be heard from deep within the bowels of the Vestige. From within the opposite side of the room was the Cie'th, large monstrous creatures of those who have failed to complete their Focus. It was a monstrous sight, and yet pitiful. The Cie'th was the only way between them and the other side of the room, and it appeared that one of the guys were itching for a fight. Pulling out both her other Gun-Dagger, she transformed that weapon into it's gun mode, giving her double the Firepower, hopefully enough to topple the beast.

"Come on, let's take it down." Jeanne said, before aiming her weapons at the Cie'th and firing.
 
Stevie wondered how he should answer. On one hand, a traveling companion would be nice. And the boy, no Connor he reminded himself, did look like he could use some help. In the end, Stevie finally decided to accept out of fear of what he might have to face alone, rather than anything else. Two people would be much harder to kill then one.

“I accept,”

He wondered if he would regret this, or even live long enough to. He had a feeling that they were in for dark times. Sighing softly, he turned away from Connor, and realized that a few tears were running down his face. Why now? It looked as though the shock was over, and now his emotions were running full force. Without looking back, he started to walk away, not wanting to show weakness.

“Come on,” he shouted, trying to conceal the cracking that he knew was in his voice.

Without looking where he was going, and without looking back, Stevie blindly followed the sound of noise. He hoped that this would lead him to safety, and feared that it would lead him somewhere worse. However, he had to at least try. He couldn’t give up.
 
[CONNOR&STEVIE HANGING EDGE]

"I accept"

Connor nearly sighed in relief as Stevie agreed to his proposition. Stevie walked towards him and past him and Connor caught a few tears running down his face. Cnnor paid it no mind. He was never really good at comforting people.

"Come on" Stevie said. and Connor heard his voice crack. but again paid it no mind. He gripped his staff Tightly as he set off behind Stevie. They oth followed the noise and Connor could hear alot more. Wich means they were close. They followed the noise. But at an angle so they wouldnt be seen by any passing soliders.

"Say Stevie." Connor started. "You never told me why your here. Care to explain?" Connor tried to keep his voice Level and more business like."Keep it light" he said to himself. This was just small talk. The noise was getting louder. Hopefully is Stevie decided to tell him when Connor could still hear.

Along with his question Connor wondered. Would he be able to Become a L'cie?
 
Ow, my head. This doesn't look like the inside of a train.

Leotis was about as lost as he had ever been before. The last thing he remembered before waking up was being thrown out of a train by someone that looked about three times as big as him. When he woke up, he noticed that he was for the most part alone, but could hear someone talking. It sounds like it's near, but I don't know where it is. Maybe if I keep listening, I will find the source. He got up, and started walking to where he thought the voices were coming from. As he started walking, he noticed a pair of people who looked like they were speaking to each other. This must be where the talking was coming from. Without really caring what they were after or where they were headed, he called out to them:

"Care if I join you? I'd rather not be stuck here all by my lonesome so I can end up dead."

Leotis approached the two people and thought to himself: Either they are hostile and attack me, or they will be cool and help me out.
 
"Care if I join you? I don't want to be left all by my lonesome and end up dead."

A oice broke Connor out of Mental Rambling. and prevented Stevie from starting is explantion should he want to give one. He twiirled around and Stared at this person. He didnt bother aking in his appeance. but Thought about his offer. He seemed ok...but Connor was still rather wary. He Focused attention on the person again.

"Stevie...we have aguest"

Connors voice was still in that blank level voice. He mentally winced. He hoped he didnt sound too harsh...if harsh at all. Still focused on This person he didn't pay the slightest attention to if stevie had walked beside him. He just continued to stare down this fellow.



".....and you are?"
 
".....and you are?"

"I am Leotis. I don't remember much except for being thrown out of a train."

He had a bad feeling about what was coming, so he was preparing himself mentally for a fight. If I need to, I will go for the weaker one, to take him out of the equation. Then I will handle a 1v1 fight against the stronger punk. Against the two of them, I won't stand a chance.

He kept that thought process from showing in his eyes, just in case these people had the uncanny ability to read his eyes and tell what he is thinking. He knew that if they COULD tell what he was thinking, that they would gang up on him and eat him alive.
 
“Well. Looks like we have a fight on our hands.”

"Come on, let's take it down."

Rasche smiled, this kid was catching on. Luckily these Cei'th looked weaker than normal. Getting out his weapon he charged toward a group of two of the vile screeching creatures. With a flick of his wrist the blades of his Rompalo flew towards his enemies. "No problem with that!" He spoke happily as the blade cut deep into the Cie'th.


He had charged toward it as it screeched in pain but had decided to deliver a vicious kick to it's midsection. It screeched again and Rasche pulled the Rampalo handle upwards and watched the blade tear the Cieth as it ripped upward through the creature, thus killing it. Now only two more Cie'th to take care of. "Are you two gonna just stand and stare?" Rasche asked looking at the other two.

He couldn't help but wonder why they would willingly venture out into the Vestige of Pulse with him. He didn't want to care to know, being too attached to people was something his brother warned him of when telling Rasche of L'Cie life. He had begun to formulate why but didn't care as an elevator looking device up ahead looked familiar to him. He knew that his brother couldn't be too far from him by now. Maybe the Fal'Cie himself would have his brother captive or maybe not.
 
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