paixaorpg | Never trust the men in robes [Active]

Lenne knew that one of these days the naivete of her traipsing around the city at night would come back to bite her, but she would never have guessed this. That voice. She knew that voice! Turning to see his face, she couldn't help but let out a startled gasp, and wasted no time in backing away from him.

It was dark, but there was no denying the presence that joined her. And the fear she felt when first they met returned to her at the sight of the ominous robe her now wore. While she had never thought she'd seen a member of the Organization before, the others had always spoken of black robes. Oh no.

The obvious question came next, but he had truly surprised her, so she could hardly be faulted for it. She had felt his words had been a warning the first time, now she truly knew he meant himself.

"What do you want?" she asked, agitated, gripping her staff with a white-knuckle hold. She'd seen very little of what he was capable of, but she highly doubted her low tier spells would affect him. However that wouldn't stop her from firing off a THUNDER and attempting to flee, should it come to that.

"I would like you to come with me," he tells her, a grin sliding across his face.

He tilts her head up a notch, ever the high-and-mighty one. In his voice, he was allowing no room for arguments. She could fight all she wanted, but it would amount to nothing.

She was out of her league.

Lenne winced back from his touch, her heart beating so hard in her chest she thought it would burst out at any moment. She tried to jump back and keep backing away from him, afraid to turn her back on him yet just as afraid she was going to trip.

"I have no intention of going with you," she managed, sounding much more confident than she looked. She was holding her staff in front of her now, just needing something between them, any barrier.

"I thought as much," his voice rumbles. "Still, it is an unwise choice for you to make. You are only doing harm to yourself." He glances away for only a moment, and then behind her, thorns gray and white thorns uplift from the ground, and two Dusks skulk out, limbs twitching as they swayed, but they did not move more than that.

Not yet.

"Perhaps, however, you will reconsider your decision, lest you may regret something." It wasn’t as though he wanted to injure her; far from it, in fact. It was easier to get satisfactory results from her that way.

Lenne risked a glance behind, having heard the strange sound of the thorns appearing, and groaned. Of course he didn't come alone. She was not at all happy to see what she could only assume were heartless, but they made no move for her, so she returned her attention swiftly to Xemnas.

"I would rather see myself harmed than go willingly. I see no regret, there," she told him smoothly, ever the actress. She meant the words, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she truly had no choice in the matter.

THUNDER! She cast the spell, aiming for him, but more than likely striking the ground right in front of Xemnas. Even before the spell was finished striking, she was turning on her heels and attempting to flee down the nearest alley-way.

"As you wish," he replies, blue static curling around his hands as he steps away, not even flinching as the lightning crashes down in front of him. From his hands, the two swords of nothingness form - the ones that she had seen while he had been fighting off Heartless during the everlasting darkness.

The Dusks jerk into the air, weaving up alongside the buildings and following alongside her in the alleyway. Meanwhile, darkness wisps up around him and he disappears, swiftly traveling through until he is back in front of her again, and going at her with a blade.

Lenne cried out briefly in shock when Xemnas reappeared in front of her, then groaned in frustration when she saw the blades. Not good, not good!

She started backtracking frantically, holding her staff out in front of her defensively. She could block a blow or two, but beyond that, she would be helpless in a matter of moments.

She needed help. She braced herself to block any blow that came her way and let out a loud, sharp whistle. As it reverberated along the close walls, she sang. Sort of. It was a loud, straight sound, about the pitch of a high C, and she could feel it vibrating through her entire being. About two beats of it and lightning began to crash down around her, a strike here, a strike there, until she broke off the sound as her throat went raw with the effort.

She could feel the presence before it fully joined her, and she nearly cried with relief when she heard the loud whinny and the crash of hooves blending with the sound of crackling electricity.

"I'd like you to meet a friend of mine!" She called to Xemnas, her confidence returning as she lept out of the way to let Ixion run full-blast past her, aiming for Xemnas. Lenne took this chance to run back down the alley-way, and hopefully out of sight. Her friend would forgive her, she knew this. But she was no match for the man behind her.

Edited 2009-10-17 02:21 (UTC)

At the sight of her summon, his eyes narrow, and he glides back several feet, bringing up the blades in a defensive position as he looks upon the creature. He would not give chase, not yet. He does, however, beckon the Dusks to follow her still.

Give her a sense of the freedom she did not have - this was Paixao, after all. No one was 'free.'

And so, he launches forward, engaging the being. This would not be long.

It was only really by luck that Saïx was in the area at the time. There were matters that needed to be tended to in the wake of Larxene's sudden disappearance. However, even with that it was hard to mistake the Superior's voice. Nor was it hard to miss the Dusks twining their way through the street after the fleeing girl.

Whoever she was - something he hadn't thought to ask on their previous encounter - it seemed the Superior wanted her for something. And if he was detained for whatever reason than it fell to him to step up to the task.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, stepping out of the shadows of the alleyway.

Edited 2009-10-17 04:20 (UTC)

What was the term? Out of the frying pan and into the fire? What's a girl have to do to catch a break? She couldn't risk another summon, though leaving Ixion uncontrolled had saved some energy, she couldn't risk the drain of it.

She sighed in exasperation, glaring hard at Saix when he appeared standing in her way. They were in on it together. Had they meant for her to find them that dark night? Had they been planning this since then? Those thoughts made her blood boil and simultaneously ran chills up and down her spine. How had she been so stupid?

"That was the general idea," she snapped, holding her ground, staff once again held defensively in front of her. The Dusks were closing in, and she took a risk, letting loose a THUNDER! aimed at one of them, and preparing to set off another.

Had they meant for her to find them? No, not in the least. She had merely had the (mis?)fortune to wander across them in the dimly lit night. It had been luck, as this was now. But if she insisted on letting the blame fall on her shoulders he would hardly argue.

He didn't seem bothered in the least by the defensive stance she'd taken either, scarcely batting an eye as the Thunder crackled down to strike the Dusk that had strayed too close.

"Fighting will get you nowhere."

Although he was more than willing to give her a fight if that was what she wanted.

As a woman, Lenne couldn't help but jump to conclusions, over-think everything, and finally, blame herself for her misfortunes. It was her nature. But right then she was perfectly willing to pass it on.

Though she had seen Saix fight only briefly, she knew with a deep, sinking feeling that she stood no chance on her own. But if she called her summon to her aid, it would bring with it the other man... She could feel that Ixion was still present, hopefully giving quite a fight.

"I am almost convinced of that," she found herself saying in an exasperated, almost angry tone. "But it's not in me to surrender."

Stalling, stalling, gotta buy just a little more time, but for what?!

She fired off another THUNDER! almost absently, hopefully frying the remaining Dusk. She couldn't shake the feeling this was about to get really ugly.

'It's not in me to surrender.' Bold words, indeed. But boldness alone wouldn't win her the battle. Not for nothing did Saïx hold the position he did within the Organization. If it were a fight she wished, it would be a fight she got, even if he didn't know what condition the Superior wanted her in.

But wounds could be dealt with. They were trivial matters.

"I will not ask again. Come with us or face the consequences." Again, he barely blinked as the Thunder barely missed the remaining Dusk.

Where was the fine line between bravery and idiocy? Lenne was certain she was treading it all too perilously. This was going to hurt. The truth was, she couldn't live with herself if she just gave up. Not only that, but she had no idea where they planned to take her, or what would happen to her there. Somehow, bleeding to death and foiling their plans sounded better than capture. It's a world gone mad.

Her words were bold, but her pulse was racing. She kept praying to any gods that would hear that she would start believing her own bravado. It was more for her own benefit than Saix's.

"Then I suppose the conversation is over."

She leveled her gaze resolutely, and did her best to steel away any emotions that would cause her to miss a beat. Such as the embarrassment that she had just begun to dance, backing away swiftly from Saix and the remaining dusk. It was her most familiar, the Darkness Dance, and she continued to wish fervently that it would at least partially blind her enemies. She could tell they were too powerful to be blinded entirely, maybe at all, but it was her best chance.

As she danced she began a new summon, with the deep, sinking feeling that it would mean the appearance of the other man, as she could not control more than one aeon's presence at a time. For this summon, she raised her staff over her head in both hands and twirled, continuing the darkening dance, humming a few pitches until she found the right one. It was the lowest pitch she could reach. She held it in a soft 'Oo', the slid the tone up two full octaves, rising to a glass-shattering pitch, just a step or two higher than before. It was quite a screech.

This time she spared a glance and watched as the sky... err, domes... seemed to open up in a mix of runes and fire, and though she never saw him fall, suddenly Ifrit, her fire elemental aeon, was at her side. She could actually feel the heat radiating from him as he bellowed.

"Meteor strike," she told him, and she could sense his understanding, and continued to hold to her dance, and attempting to back behind the protection of the aeon. He was not one of her strongest, but his bulk made her feel secure, and his ability to physically attack seemed necessary.

"Indeed," Saïx answered, as his own weapon appeared in his hand in a flash of pale moonlight. There was no further need of conversation now. The only words that would be shared now was the sound of their own weapons, whatever those might be.

The dancing, however, caught him off guard. He was familiar with Dancers, but they were hardly as human as she seemed to be and he had yet to see any of the Dancers have an effect like hers - and he was affected. And yet, it wasn't a true Blind. He could still see, but it was almost as if he were looking through a deep fog, the details of what he was looking at blurring away to the point of indistinctness.

He did not, however, bother to ask her what she had done. There was no need, and the only indication that her dancing had done anything was a sudden violent shake of his head and a low snarl. Such an inconvenience, although one that would need to wait until later to with as the sudden arrival of a splotch of orange and a change in the air temperature signaled Ifrit's arrival as a slow grin spread across Saïx' face. This would be a good fight. A challenge.

He hardly needed his sight to prove a challenge, and he could hear the order given to the aeon as well as the aeon himself had. Now all he had was to wait, sinking into a half-defensive crouch as Ifrit launched his attack.

The meteor would never strike. As soon as it got within range, Saïx moved, swinging up and around with the flat of his blade in a motion that almost shouldn't have possible with his sight so affected. Stranger yet, his sword didn't break under the impact but instead sent the blow back at Ifrit himself.

Lenne let out a shriek of fear, attempting to run, then dive, out of the literal line of fire. She cringed in pain as she slammed full-force into the wall of the nearest building, aided by the force of the connecting meteor behind her. She attempted to shield herself behind the crates there, cursing her lack of defensive magic training. She really would have to remedy that. If she survived. She moaned in pain, her head swimming with the impact, pain pounding in her forehead and right arm. Not good.

Meanwhile, Ifrit roared in pain at his own meteor being hurled back at him. He had taken the blow full force in the chest, and was struggling to regain his strength. He couldn't sustain another blow like that. But his time was not yet up. He set his gaze upon Saix and roared once more, smoke and flame in his breath. He began to run at Saix with full momentum, and brought back his claw to swipe with swift fury.

Unfortunately, while Saïx could tell that the beast was bearing down on him he couldn't quite judge the distance as well as he'd like; Ifrit's blow striking true as a result. And yet, it didn't seem to have drawn actual blood. His coat had come out somewhat worse for the wear as had the clothes under it, but not a drop of blood.

But he wasn't give either of them the time to pay much attention that as he all but launched himself at Ifrit with a snarl of wordless fury. There would be no holding back now, his sword swinging in even as he came. It dodn't matter how long it took, or how many times he missed. The enemy would fall.

Lenne did her best to climb back to her feet and restart her dance, knowing that her moment down could very well have given Saix a few moments of clear sight, and she wasn't willing to give him back that advantage. She'd never seen anything quite as frightening as him. That much power and fury encased in one person was almost disturbing. She started dancing, forcing herself through the aches she was feeling, drawing on what adrenaline she had left, praying the blindness would hold.

Ifrit, meanwhile, was struck with a hard blow of Saix's sword, sending the aeon staggering backward a step and a roar of pain, not expecting the strength behind it. He snarled again, swiping with the fiery claws of the opposite arm, aiming for Saix' midsection, trying to avoid the massive blade.

More than simply could have, it had. It was little more than a fleeting glimpse, but it had given him enough time to get a proper view of what he was fighting. He might not have had a name for the creature, but that scarcely mattered. He had all he needed.

This time, Ifrit's strike was dodged, Saïx ducking out of the way, albeit with a much narrower margin of error than he would have liked. But there was no time to think about that. Instead it was recognized, and relegated to the back of his mind. Something to be aware of, but not worry about, as his sword swung around again.

Where he was aiming didn't matter; what he hit didn't matter. He couldn't see well enough for that anyway. What mattered was the strength of each blow, and he was giving each of his all he had to offer.

Lenne gasped as she watched Ifrit take a painful blow. In the back of her mind, she knew she'd be in awe of Saix sometime later. When he wasn't scaring her to death. Meanwhile, she just kept up her steps, keeping a steady rhythm to her darkness dance. She noted Ifrit beginning to stagger, and lit a strong FIRE! on the aeon. To the unknowing, it might have seemed cruel, however, fire was Ifrit's element, and that small spell had healed the previous wounds.

Ifrit roared as the fire tore through him, the heat mending his lesser wounds, but there were still strong pains from the heavy blows dealt by Saix's claymore. He snarled out smoke and as he made another large swipe at Saix, the aeon cast FIRA on the man just before the blow would connect.

Saïx wasn't unfamiliar with the concept of beings that had an inherent element. He lived and worked with his share of them, and had he been thinking of anything more than Ifrit's total destruction, he might have been glad to know the aeon's proper element. Right now, there were more important matters at hand, as Saïx brought his sword up to block Ifrit's blow.

And then the Fira hit. It wasn't the first time he'd taken such a blow, and was unlikely to be the last, but there was a brief flicker of a pause. Just enough for Ifrit to get his strike in as Saïx roared as the flames engulfed him. A roar not of pain, but of anger. Defiance. A wordless assurance that he would see this through to end no matter how dire the wounds he took - and save for that brief moment of pause there seemed to have been little effect from the Fira, as the great sword swung up and around yet again.

Lenne continued to dance, casting another FIRE! on Ifrit in an attempt to buffer him from the coming blows, but it would not be enough. She cringed and almost cried out in pain for the aeon. She always felt so guilty that they took all the blows for her, and never begrudged it. Fear was beginning to creep back into her mind. Her aeon would not last much longer, and her strength was beginning to falter.

Ifrit, meanwhile, had no thoughts, only a burning ferocity that he directed unblinkingly at Saix. The man's roar was echoed by the aeon as the sword connected with its intended target, and hard, sending the fire-elemental staggering back in pain. The FIRE spell had healed him, but only slightly, and not enough to prevent what would have been a nearly debilitating blow from slowing him down considerably.

Enraged, the aeon cast another powerful spell, this time FIRAGA, simultaneously injuring Saix and slightly healing himself, while attempting a much slower swipe, held back slightly by injury.

The aeon was vanquished and Xemnas left it behind, a Dusk sliding out from a pathway to lurk before him, giving him the information he required; his target was in battle with one of his members, quite a pleasing result. He leaves the alleyway to find them, coming up behind the dancer, a grin curling over his face.

He sees Number VII, hears his rage. Instantly, Xemnas sweeps out his arms and summons his duel-blades again, and confidently calls out, "Calm yourself, Number VII. I need the specimen in proper condition, after all." And then his gaze shifts to the girl.

No, she is not getting out of this. "You will be coming with me. Your first creature has fallen; I would imagine that has taken some of your strength. Your second will not be far behind it."

If Lenne had expected Saïx to flinch from the heat of the more powerful fire spell, she had guessed wrong. Instead Saïx merely weathered the blow like he had before, even though his clothes and hair were beginning to show the effects of repeated exposures to flame.

However, instead of swinging again at Ifrit, he simply held his ground, blocking the swipe with he sword. He couldn't see Xemnas - or not very well - but he could hear him, even through the rage that roared through his veins. The one voice that could be heard over all others; the one voice he would always obey, pulling his rage down and in until he was if not as calm as he had first been, then and least only half-mad. The rage was leashed, but only just. It still lurked close to the surface, should it become necessary again.

And should Lenne have doubted the truth of Xemnas' words, Saïx answered the last comment with a simple smile. All he needed to imply that he would quite gladly finish the aeon if requested to.

Edited 2009-11-11 04:21 (UTC)

Xemnas' sudden and unwelcome return, and the words that accompanied him caused Lenne to stumble, her dance faltering. Specimen. Wonderful. She whistled shrilly at Ifrit, a signal, even knowing the aeon was very near his own death, as it were. She caught a glimpse of Saix's smile and shivered, but looked to Ifrit as he prepared his final attack: Hellfire.

Lenne took a risk and darted behind a near-by crate as the aeon unleashed his highest concentration of fire magic yet, bathing both men in the intense flames. She didn't stop to see if the attack had done anything at all, and knowing that her aeon would begin to fade no sooner has the attack succeeded, she crawled back to her feet and tried her best to run away.

She was not getting away from him a second time - not in the least would he allow it. He disappeared into the dark corridors again, and following after her. Number VII could handle the rest of the aeon, perhaps take the remainder of his rage out upon it.

When he exits again, quite nearby to her, he ensnares her in a field of energy, surrounding her completely with it and slowly draining her health. He moves closer as the attack continues, expression hardening. "You were naive to think you could escape from me." He will drain her until she collapses at this point, or until she is too weak to fight any longer.

Oh, it would do something alright. Maybe not necessarily what Lenne had expected, but it would do something as yet again that rage slipped its leash. To Saïx the flames that engulfed him were as nothing. The world burned, but he could still move, hunting down the aeon with all that his rage had to offer before striking.

And if Ifrit didn't (or couldn't) get out of the way, that blow would only be repeated. No mercy; no quarter; no prisoners. Even if he had to stand in the middle of a sea of flames, he would continue the fight until the very end.

If she survived, Lenne was never taking a walk alone ever again. Naive she had been, but cynicism would quickly take its place. Some time after she was done panicking. The summoner was so consumed by fright at that point that she was nearly hyperventilating. The field in which she was trapped seemed to be sucking the air right from her in her panic, her life ebbing out with each labored breath. She could have sworn she was on fire from the pain.

At first she fought, fists seeking something, anything, energy leaving her faster than she'd ever thought possible. Lenne felt as though every movement was in slow motion, her vision blurring, from fatigue and from the tears of frustration filling her eyes. How had she been so stupid... She was almost relieved in the moment that everything finally went black.

Ifrit, meanwhile, was already beginning to fade, his physical form evaporating into sparkling pyreflies as Saix's barrage of powerful attacks damaged him beyond what his present form could withstand. In a matter of moments, the Nobody would find himself surrounded in a swirl of the glowing pyreflies, before they all vanished in a blinding unison.

((fff holidays.))

When Lenne likely woke again it would be to the sound of lab utensils clicking against metal. While she was out, he already has glimpsed her memories - simply a sample, nothing more. She was not as fascinating as the goddess Urd had been (he did look forward to dealing with that particular woman).

The first thing that she would see when she opens her eyes would be the strain of the pearl white room and the Superior checking a syringe in his grasp, which glowered with a smooth, light-induced aura...

Her wrists, ankles, and neck were secured down to a cold surface; she could struggle all she wanted, but it would likely only hurt her more in the process.

Xemnas taps a side of the syringe, then grins, turning to look down at his specimen.

Well, it wasn't exactly what Lenne had expected to wake up to. Not that she'd had any clear ideas about it to begin with, though. She'd been more focused on never getting to this point.

The light in the sterile seeming room hurt her eyes and made them water. Her chest hurt and she couldn't seem to breathe in as deeply as she needed to, which made her cough... which made he entire room spin and her pulse pound deafeningly in her head. She risked opening one eye halfway, trying to assess her situation. Lenne wished she hadn't.

There stood her captor, his grin sending a new, frightening chill down her spine. Instinct told her to escape, to scream, anything at all, but every restrained movement brought a new pain, and when she opened her mouth, she could only cough, her throat dry, her voice useless.

Oddly enough, the syringe was the least of her panicked concerns, for the moment. She could only stare in horror, the situation still not sinking in.

"As you can see," he begins, moving over to where she's held down, canting his head to the side as he observes her, "it does you little good to try and escape. However, I do not intend to contain you for long."

He leans over her, one gloved hand gripping her arm while the other guides the needle in, and he injects the full dose of light. "This will not be the last time we see each other," he tells her, straightening up once more. He keeps his eyes on her for a few following moments. It would take some time for the light to mix in with her body.

Lenne's eyes widened as Xemnas approached her, and despite the futility of the effort, tried to jerk her arm away. She let out a pathetic gasp when the needle pierced her skin, her voice still raw and useless, and braced herself for what she could only have thought to be poison. She was surprised.

The feeling that washed over her seemed to tingle, then warm, then suddenly burn, but not painful, just... unnatural. Her vision was taken over by a blinding white for a few moments... Like suddenly everything was turned upside down and the balance had been thrown off. But just as she began to try to make sense of it all... it didn't really matter. Things seemed a little brighter. She was still strapped to the table like a prisoner, trapped, lost... but it was... alright.

She felt every muscle relax, almost robotically, her face lifted in an understated smile. Nothing could touch her. Nothing could darken this moment. Everything was as it should be. Whatever had just happened... it felt pretty darn good.

((So let's repencil Lenne in for kidnapping end of week 16 instead of... lol week 13? |D))

He leaves her like that. Disappears for a good several minutes in eerie silence. When he returns, he checks her vitals, and scratches down notes on a table nearby.

"I have received what I required from you, girl. You may return to the city now."

And then he releases her bonds, stepping back (still careful in case she tried to attack), and moves his arm out to the side, summoning a dark portal. "This will lead you to Vanaheim Gate."

She smirked a little, almost reflexively, at the way he stepped back, as if she was going to attack him further. She didn't need to. And honestly, she didn't have the energy. She had no desire to harm him, and actually felt a very conflicting desire to get as far away from him as possible, and not even because of the harm he had done to her. It was deeper than that, but she couldn't put a word to it. It was conflicting because another part of her seemed to very strongly desire invade his space, make something right, as if something was off balance. How strange.

But that was for another time, she decided. So, silently she rose, muscles stiff and sore, but not hindering her, and slowly found her feet, and walked through the portal, without a second thought to the man behind her, or if the darkness would actually take her where he said it would. It didn't matter. She needed to leave all of this behind... And get on with living.

Never trust the men in robes [Active]

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