paixaorpg | Small Search Party [active]

Character(s): Jecht and Braska
Content: Two friends go looking for the third.
Setting: Near City Hall
Time: Sometime during Week 20 --> Backlogged
Warnings: None that I can think of for now.

While Braska knew well that the people in Paixao appeared and disappeared seemingly at random, the loss of Auron still hit hard. Maybe it was because of their friendship. Maybe it was because the other man had been there even before Braska himself had arrived. Or maybe it was seeing Jecht's reaction to it all. No matter what the reason, it was a difficult thing to accept, and Braska sorely wanted to believe that Auron was around somewhere, hopefully unharmed.

The High Summoner let out a shaky breath, grip unconsciously tightening around his staff. If only there were something that could be done, a way to predict when these sorts of things were going to happen so they could prevent it. But... that was unlikely to happen anytime soon. All they could do now was search... and wait.

Braska looked around for any sign of Jecht. He would arrive soon, Braska knew, and more likely he would hear his guardian before he saw him. The thought brought a small smile back onto Braska's face. At least there were some things in this life that never changed.

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Auron's disappearance was something that Jecht, just wasn't willing to accept. For how long now had the man played an important role in his life? Meeting the two of them, him and Braska, had set the blitzer on a crash course of life-changing experiences. Since he had arrived in Spira, the two of them had been bailing him out of countless situations he'd gotten them into. They acted like the conscience he so readily ignored -- Braska the calm, empathic side, and Auron the strict life-lesson imposer, the planner, always showing up to ruin the fun with that lemon-faced scowl of his.

And truthfully, Jecht would have given anything to see that frown right about now.

As he arrived at the meeting place he had set out, Jecht rose his fingers up and placed them strategically in his mouth, folding his tongue, and blowing outwards in a sharp, high-pitched whistle to steal the summoner's attention. He waved as he approached, and for once, decided to remain slightly subdued with his entrance, as he approached, nodding ahead towards the building.

"So the big shots are holed up in there, huh?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Braska's smile widened into a grin as he heard the whistle, and he turned to watch Jecht approach. It wasn't quite the entrance he had been expecting, but it was familiar enough and even possibly appropriate at a time like this.

His smile faded at the question, and Braska turned to face in City Hall, or the wall of thorns that could be assumed to be City Hall's direction. "Yes," he replied with a nod. "It will be difficult to get in, I think, if it is possible." He didn't mean to be so pessimistic, but it did seem almost impossible. How many people had tried to get in before? How long had it been since everyone had given up?

He sighed softly and shook his head. And it wasn't as though they would be able to simply knock on the door and request permission to be let in, was it? "But there must be a way... somehow."

With a heave of his arm, Jecht struck the earth below with his sword, the edge of it slamming into the dirt. He meant business. If these characters were the ones responsible for Auron's disappearance, boy was he going to make them pay.

The wall of thorns ahead seemed like nothing to the man who was on a mission. "Difficult?" he repeated his friend's words, lifting his blade up and over his head. "Not if I've got anythin' to say about it!" he cried, rushing forward to where the mess seemed to start.

After a few grunts and swings, he made little leeway, and paused, his shoulders rising and falling as his breathing started to become laboured. "How's about a Fira, Braska?" he called over, "If we light 'em up, no doubt they'll be easier to cut down! C'mon! I bet Auron's wonderin' what's takin' us so long!"

He watched Jecht hack at the thorns for awhile and frowned. It didn't seem as though they were making any progress. Was there a specific spot that they needed to enter from? How else would the building's inhabitants be able to get in? If they could just find it...

But then Braska smiled at Jecht's words, a twinkle in his eye. They could still try this way. "I think I might be able to do one better. You should stand back, Jecht." He brought his staff before him, eyes closed as he began to concentrate. Magical light surrounded him as Braska began to cast, and after a moment, the high summoner lifted his arms and then brought them down, opening his eyes as he cast his spell.

The Firaga hit the thorns with a veritable explosion of fire. Braska squinted against the light and heat, straining his eyes to search for any sign of weakening. "...Nothing," he whispered, disappointed.

"Huh?" he perked up as Braska began to weave his spell. He was still panting as the fire dissipated, and leaving behind it... everything still in tact. "Damn!" he cried, stabbing his sword forward again. He was beginning to accept that it was impossible to break through, but still, he continued slashing away, not yet willing to admit defeat.

"What's... up with this place, anyway?" he seemed to half-yell. In his time, he had just become the Final Aeon. Just pummeled Sin, before he was roped here, into Paixao. What sort of a game were they playing... giving him the chance to be reunited with Braska and Auron again... just to take them away? "What sort of a person... just takes someone away like that?!" he hollered, unaware of his own emotions.

His eyes shadowed over as he seemed to be losing vigor with his strikes, grunting with the effort it took to continue.

Braska raised his hand after awhile of Jecht hacking at the thorns. "Jecht..." he called gently. This wasn't working. They would either have to find some other way to get in or another way to get through the thorns. Jecht was obviously in distress, and at this rate he was only going to wear himself out.

"Jecht!" he called again, louder this time. "Let us try somewhere else. We can still look in the opera house." Hopefully it would be easier to get into and give them some information. His brow creased, betraying his worry for a moment, but it quickly disappeared as Braska put on a more positive, hopeful mask.

"We can always return later. Maybe someone else will have an idea how to pass through."

His thoughts were leading him down a dark path. A bitter resentment was starting to rise in his chest, forming an unfamiliar lump in his throat. The blitzer choked it down, brought back into the moment by Braska's call. "Ah -- huh? Oh... y-yeah, sure," he agreed, retracting his broadsword back into a resting position alongisde himself.

"The Opera House, huh?" he asked, some of the wind obviously taken out of his sails due to the failure of penetrating the wall of thorns. "Yeah... let's go..." Jecht's voice seemed uncannily calm for the situation at hand, as though the fire within was nearly burning out.

It was only Braska's positivity that kept him going, although he figured that the summoner, also, was perhaps beginning to feel the sting of defeat.

"People... leave here a lot, huh?" he asked, dragging his bare heels along the ground as he started to walk.

Braska wished he could find the right thing to say to bring up Jecht's spirits. Going to the opera house was the only thing he could think of to do. Deep down, he couldn't help but feel lost, but he kept the smile on his face in the hope that it would bring Jecht some form of comfort.

He nodded in response to Jecht's question. "Yes. I have seen many people come and go. But the rare few who have returned have said that they managed to go home." Braska decided it was better not to mention the kidnappings the Organization had done all those months ago. Honestly, he didn't want to think about Auron going through all of that himself.

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hope you're still down for continuing this!!!

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