paixaorpg | Of Pirates and Blue Mages [active]

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Of Pirates and Blue Mages [active]

Character(s): Balthier, Fran, and Rishfee
Content: After this post, Balthier tends to his wound and tries to get some answers from Rishfee as to what just happened there.
Setting: One of the Actua Ares in the city where Fran and Balthier have decided to stay
Time: Late Evening/Morning after the above thread.
Warnings: Nothing I can think of at the moment.

Balthier washed the last of the dried blood from his arm and set the washcloth aside, giving the formerly wounded area another once-over. A Cure spell had taken care of the nastly little cuts, but the area was still a bit tender, and he winced as he pressed against it experimentally. Really, he should have been expecting that to happen, given how much of a literal pain cleaning the blood off had been. He offered a glance to the bloodied shirt, now hanging over the side of the nearby bathtub. Mending the tears hopefully wouldn't be too difficult, but getting the blood out... He wasn't even sure it was possible by this point. A shame. He liked that one.

He stepped out of the bathroom, grabbing one of the shirts he had purchased within the city sometime before and put his arms through the sleeves. As he buttoned up his shirt, he thanked the fact that he had been prepared for such an event. It never seemed to fail that some manner of beast would find its way to his path, and it was inevitable that his clothes would fall victim to the natural weapons at its disposal.

The last button fastened, Balthier stepped out of the bedroom, looking down at Rishfee, who he had set on the couch. The bed probably would have been better, but Balthier preferred a bit of privacy for changing as he did before. He would have to thank Fran sometime for asking no questions about this. Not that she ever did, but Balthier was hardly sure where to begin explaining it, himself.

The sky pirate took a seat in one of the nearby chairs, reclining a little as he waited for the youth to wake up. Hopefully he hadn't hit him too hard.

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Currently unaware as to the sky pirate's clothing dilemma, the blue mage slept through what was apparently a clear and bright morning. Through the whole lovely shapeshifting situation turning to "heartless, run away!" it wasn't evident that the youth was fevered. Now it was -- his breaths were shallow and intermingled with mutterings in his native language of aradjian; words strange and bizarre in syllable but one always coming up every few fractured sentences.

Aphmau.

Hours passed, and the fever seemed to get worse in severity (as was the way of these things before it got better.) He'd twitched a few times - kicked a few more, but eventually it did break. Thankfully, he was over the poison which had been in his system since before he even came to Paixao, worsened in severity and made him as unstable as he was. A long wait later - and shockingly blue eyes flickered open.

He was as thirsty as hell.

He cleared his throat - before staring to the side, silently. One long attempt at focusing later and his eyes managed to pick up what must have been Balthier's leg. Frowning, he brought a hand to his own face and rubbed lightly at one eye - trailing what he saw till he could make out Balthier's face.

"...So it wasn't a dream."

As the youth squirmed on the couch and muttered various unintelligible utterances, Balthier began to think he really had hit Rishfee a little too hard. Of course, a closer examination had revealed it to be a fever--a bad one--and with some reluctance he had gone back to the bathroom to fetch a cold washcloth for the young man's head. While he didn't recognize this "Aphmau" word Rishfee kept repeating, it was easy to tell that it meant something important to the boy. Just another question to add to the list, he supposed.

Then Rishfee started to awaken, and with a hint of amusement he watched the Blue Mage watch him, seemingly coming to realize where he was. "Not at all," Balthier replied. "Though considering how you were tossing and turning like that, I could understand why you would think it so."

All things considered, it was probably a good thing that Fran was extremely used to Balthier's habits - especially when said habits included bringing home people in various shades of consciousness. True, a good number of them tended to have gotten there through intoxication, but she would hardly complain about it. It wasn't her place to ask, and sooner or later one of the two would explain enough for her to patch the pieces together.

Besides, she hadn't missed the way this particular arrival had been murmuring in his sleep - one advantage of those over-large ears of hers. It had been no language she was familiar with, but Balthier always did have a soft spot for those in trouble, from time to time. Especially those who seemed to be in trouble, be it from illness or no.

"Another one?" she asked quietly as she stepped out into view.

Another one...?

Unfortunately, having never seen a Viera before the blue mage gave the girl a blank stare for the smallest of instants before deciding that was simply rude. He brought himself up to his knees upon the sofa then to a crossed leg position, brought the washcloth off his face before folding it upon one knee.

..He supposed the hume would want his explanation too. But first..

"It would seem I have a great debt to repay you. I can only start by apologising for having to have you do this. And thanking you of course for the fact you did. Most would have ran."

The blue mage spoke fluently, articulately - like he'd spoken the common tongue that the pair of them seemed to understand for years. There was method to it though - stating the obvious was good. It was neutral.

"You know how it is," Balthier began in reply to his partner, his tone almost playful. "One minute you're out for a stroll, the next someone simply must have your attention." He wasn't surprised by Rishfee's reaction to Fran. Vaan had stared too, after all, and he had been from Ivalice.

He held up a hand when Rishfee finished. "I'd rather keep this debt to a minimum, if you would. Otherwise it lends itself to payment upon payment and I daresay we both would be tired of it by then. As long as you answer my questions, we'll call it even. What do you say?"

He leaned forward, forearms resting against his knees. "As for running, let's just say I've seen--and heard of--worse transformations than that." Better... whatever it was that Rishfee had been changing into than a Malboro, if those stories were to be believed. And then there was the fate of one Vayne Solidor...

"Such a challenge for the leading man," Fran answered in a similar tone, as a smile played at the corners of her mouth. Sadly, apart from what the banter implied, Rishfee wouldn't be getting too much more of an explanation into that particular realm, although it was perhaps worth noting that she didn't comment on his staring. Even in Ivalice, people had stared; here it was all the more common.

"We both have."

Much though she'd prefer to not speak of it. The less said of that final battle for the fate of Dalmasca, the better.

Funnily enough, transformation into a marlboro was quite possible when he was in the state he was. He'd picked up more than a few abilities from plenty of creatures of the marlboro family; Ochus, Ameretats... The"land-octopi" were just another variety of Aradjiah's dangerous plantlife. With seven arm-like tentacles and close to a dozen eyes, they could see and attack in all directions - at once. In addition to these 360° traits they could spew two forms of semi-gaseous concoctions on those who dared to come too close, leading to a wide range of status ailments. Yet he hadn't bothered to use the abilities of one; he couldn't say that he'd ever felt the need to smell like something dead.

..Not yet, anyway. Here's hoping that he never had to, those things were just disgusting.

Balthier's 'don't fret about it' dismissal worked perfectly for the Immortal. That was one thing at least, that he wasn't expected to offer coinage for the help (Such a thought would have been considered odd. But Rishfee was of Aht Urhgan - a place where money talked and absolutely everything else walked. Loyalties were nothing to most, nor comradeship - so simple kindness was certainly out of the proverbial window and he couldn't help being used to that...) and besides. He couldn't help but make a few inward observations about the pair beyond the small amount of relief he felt at that.

Their tone suggested they'd known each other for quite a while. Friends? Definitely. It made him think somewhat of Amnaf. But enough of that. It was apparent that answers were needed - or at the very least some sort of explanation, as promised. Before the pair of them took him as the monster he really was and all hell broke loose.

" You have? " He asked; breath almost catching in his throat at the possibility of them having experience of an Immortal before. That possibility meant two things; Amnaf or Raubahn were here somewhere and something terrible had happened to them...
Or they were of his world, his continent (however unlikely that was, given the female being of a race he'd never even seen before)- enough to have heard whispers of the covert unit of which he belonged.

Rishfee wasn't one to place any sort of emphasis on speculation, however. The youth, though quite obviously young - was rather well trained and his upbringing in the Immortals had seen to it that he had the mentality of a 30-year old. He could only remain open - and if the hume's questions started to seem... pointed, he knew how to evade.

"...It's difficult to begin. Feel free to ask whatever you wish - Perhaps that will be better than going through everything."

'Everything' happened to involve a lot of Imperial secrets he wasn't comfortable revealing with the off-chance they were relevant to these two as well. Not like they would be if the pair weren't of his world but... he didn't know.

To be fair, while kindness may have been a part of Balthier's reasoning (though the pirate would never admit it), in his mind, he had still put a price on the deed. Information, after all, was the primary currency of Archades, a currency that never devalued and was accepted in every city one could think of. And, growing up in such a city, it was safe to say that its ways were as much a part of Balthier as anything else.

It wasn't much to ask, really. Better was better time spent than having no time to spend at all.

Offering one last smile to Fran and a small shrug of feigned modesty, he turned back to Rishfee. "Ivalice is filled with all sorts of mysteries," he answered in an attempt to sidestep the question. "Though nothing quite like what I saw out by that beach. Let's begin there, shall we? What were you doing out there last night? And what was it that happened?"

'Mysteries,' was it? A kinder term than Fran would have been inclined to use, but it would do well enough. Better that than term it for what it was and leave the table open to a discussion of things that were less important to the situation at hand. A situation she knew regrettably little of, but no matter. She could and would be patient enough for this.

Thus, she would remain quiet and let Balthier handle the questions for the moment. It was how things usually happened, after all, and often times silence was the best course she'd found.

Awkward.

The Immortal decided to do exactly as requested, but feared that his explaination wouldn't be sufficient. There was hows, whens and whys to consider which would naturally fall after the answer to the question - but as always he knew how to evade. He'd been trained to say what exactly was enough and nothing more. It just wasn't his unit's way to go around spitting out such-and-such. This though...
Well.

He took comfort in the fact that the pair of them appeared to be of a different world. He knew that digressing anything to people of his would result in a swift and immediate execution. What was it for treason again? Yes, burning.

"I was at the beach after I receieved information Heartless were there. I was...I have the ability to learn monster abilities, providing they hit me with the ability in question, and I kill the monster that used it. I become stronger from them... in many ways. I can also take on traits of what I've killed - enhanced eyesight, hearing... "

Or what Balthier saw. Speech and mannerism. That was one of the reasons he could speak so fluently in the common tongue.

" I'm after the Organization primarily, and I wanted to investigate the creatures they call Heartless. Related or unrelated to the Organization - The creatures may hold an ability that will enable me to learn either where they are or gain knowledge of them. The people which are currently 'doing something' about the kidnappings aren't succeeding. I don't wish to wait on children - my world is about to be in very real danger and it's been almost a month with no progress. Before I arrived in this world, I was looking for someone.. someone that.." No. He couldn't speak of Aphmau. Not her role in all this. He was too well trained.

"I.. was poisoned by an enemy spy as I searched for her. Yagudo poison; extremely potent and well known for inducing organ failure and deteriation of mental state. It's also incurable. It has to run its course through a body. Usually the person dies. If not, they're extremely lucky. But.. following that, I found her. She had something of great importance stole from her and set off to find it. She wouldn't reconsider - she wouldn't see it for the toy it was and she..."

Mnejing was just an automation - a toy puppet. Yet it was her deceased father which had given it to her. It's importance was beyond all belief to the girl and Rishfee.. he knew that fact. He couldn't not assist her, even though "Aphmau" was simply an alias to protect her from enemies of the Empire. The girl was the Empress of Aht Urhgan - and he was hunting her, to bring her home. He'd followed her and protected her, while poisoned. And not called in the fact he'd located her so she could find this thing.

"It was a trap. We were led directly to the enemy and she rushed forward when they were about to destroy this thing. I died trying to protect her - the last thing I saw was her kidnapped by the ghost of one of the Empire's enemies."

Not to mention the fact he'd literally had his left eye plucked from his skull and fought three hundred Mamool-ja soldiers and mages while she tried to make a break for it. He saw to his death - he could run by one option, self-destruct - a lethal technique he'd learned from a Bomb monster which had not only ensured his (messy) demise but the end of the soldiers which had hopelessly outnumbered him.

"You wonder why I ramble about my world- I can understand that. The poison's effect of altering ones's state of mind... and my death, and to see it had been for nothing altered my state. When my form becomes unstable... traits show in unexpected ways. Which is what you saw upon that beach - a transformation from using a qiquirn's senses to find the Heartless."

Balthier listened closely to Rishfee's explanation. He was going into a bit more detail than Balthier had expected, but it was easier than having to ask for details and explanations every five seconds. He couldn't help but get the impression that Rishfee was holding back on certain things, but that was to be expected. Balthier, too, would have done the same thing.

So Rishfee was a soldier of some sort... One with a girl on his mind, at that. Not too rare a find, really. Neither was the fact that he seemed to be wrapped up in the midst of political unrest--a victim of it, as it were. It wasn't the first time the dead had managed to wander through the gates of the city. Indeed, it seemed to be common enough to nearly cease to be a wonder for the pirate. Or maybe it had stopped when he had seen his father's face.

It made sense, though. Death and poison threw enough off on their own without adding transformations into the mix. Even Rishfee's idea of going after the Heartless had some ring of logic to it, though something told Balthier that it wouldn't go quite as well as Rishfee thought it would.

"I have to wonder," Balthier replied, deciding that steering away from a conversation based around death was probably one of the better courses of action he could take for now. "How much do you know about the Heartless here? Admittedly, I know less than some others here, but I can tell you now that if you were to have any trouble with these transformations of yours again, I doubt you'd much care for these Heartless'... poorer qualities. You do know that they're called 'Heartless' for a reason? Even if the reason is a bit of a misnomer."

He glanced at Fran, curious to see what she thought of all this.

As long as it answered the questions, Fran would have called the explanation sufficient. What Rishfee gave them was a good deal more than that. It certainly wasn't uninteresting, not by a long shot, but it was certainly beyond what she'd been expecting. Even if she did - much as Balthier did - expect that some facts had been left out. People who had tendencies to attract spies rarely gave the whole truth.

But what had been given was plenty to work with, regardless. He was a hume with a goal, and more so, one looking for a woman. Not entirely uncommon in wars and in their line of work. That someone considered this woman important enough to poison someone on her trail was less so.

A shame there was little way to tell if the woman would show here.

"You would not want the abilities of a Heartless," she agreed. "They are mindless beings. Not something one would care to take."

As for the fact that he could turn into monsters at all, that was beyond interesting, although few would have been able to tell her thoughts on the matter. Ivalice had no such people, no ways to change ones own form outside of tales or the addition of nethicite, and the latter was rarely worth the effort to say nothing of the fact that few (perhaps 'none' in wake of more recent events) knew how to even proceed there.

Heartless investigation one went terribly, since he was KO'ed when they appeared and he hadn't been able to even tell what they looked like.

Solemn as the mood was - Rishfee would have probably burst out into laughter if he'd have known he was being taken for a soldier. The Imperial Army didn't dirty their hands with the work Immortals did and that was the point of them - covert, secret, and rather... effective with dirtier jobs. When the enemy armies were nothing but monsters; the Empire did have to fight fire with fire (especially after the assassination of the Crown Prince.) and thus the Immortals were created. The first generation was a shambles - men and women who endured horrendous experiments such as the grafting of monster appendages to their bodies. It had all ended horribly. But he was third generation. The technique had improved. The Imperial alchemists responsible had learned from their mistakes. But regardless; first, second, third or fourth generation Immortals were not soldiers... but rather... a support. In a sense.

He didn't expect the pair to understand (and actually half expected them to sling him out instantly or worse...) and in many senses they didn't. But misunderstanding wasn't as bad as it could have been. He moved his eyes to Fran and shook his head lightly, gently - with all the grace you'd expect from one of the Empire.
Militaristic the Empire were - but savages the Empire were not.

"Most monsters are mindless - barring the ones that were once human. What I transformed into was not without it's danger. Even without any ranged weapons a Qijirn can usually pierce a hume's skull with a simple pebble scooped from the sand. Your friend just handled it... me well. "
By not running, of course!

He supressed the smallest sign of gallows humor and moved his hand to the back of his head. Ouch. Time to turn serious again.

"I understand the dangers. Transformation though is extremely rare. It shouldn't happen again." and if it did, he'd probably dispose of himself. Really - he became what he was willingly to try and protect, not to destroy. The moment he became a danger, he'd see to himself in place of other Immortals which would have done the job for him should he be home.
Endangering people was never, ever part of the plan. And transformations... they were the reason that no Immortal had ever died a natural death.

"Besides.." He supressed the smallest and most dejected of sighs as he turned to Balthier. Aphmau was probably dead by now. He adored the girl utterly - Aht Urhgan had never had such a benevolent ruler before- But she wasn't the most... gifted of people, intelligence wise. Luzaf the Blackheart would have found out who she really was by now. Most likely it would have come from her own mouth in a moment of frustration.

"I don't need a heart to return. Walahra willing; I can find them. I can negotiate, however messy it may be, return - and I can warn the Empire of what is befalling them. The world is most likely about to end, and no-one other than me knows."

He had to return.
He had to warn someone, anyone, be it the Captain or the Grand Vizier that the dark divinity Odin had formed a pact with Luzaf - to promise the dead Admiral the Empresses head for the actions of the Empire 200 years ago. Thus, in return Odin would destroy his ancient enemy - the guardian of the Empire of Aht Urhgan, Alexander, as the Empire burned.

Only then could he peacefully move to the void of which all the dead shared.

"But please. Your words do not go unheard. Tell me more of them."

Balthier gestured to Fran, a show of agreement, though Rishfee didn't quite seem to understand. At least the transformations seemed to be rare enough. "Not quite as mindless as these. You mentioned being willing to return without a heart? Somehow I doubt you'd like to arrive as one of the Heartless. Apparently, they're what happens when one's heart is plucked out of their body. The 'darkness' in one's heart taking control as it were. Not the happiest of ends, is it?"

And a frightening one, Balthier was willing to admit. Maybe it was the fact that so little was known of them. Maybe it was what he did know. Maybe it was what he had seen. Whatever the reason, the fate of the Heartless' victims was chilling.

"Plenty of different ones around here. All depends on which world you're in. Ones in the latest are a bit more difficult than the others," he explained. Unfortunately, that was the limit of his knowledge of the Heartless. But, there was something else he could tell him. "Which reminds me... You'll be happy to know that there just might be a way out of here. Unfortunately, we'll have to climb quite a few floors in order to get out and the anonymous fellow who so kindly told us the information is probably less than trustworthy. On the bright side, that information hasn't steered us entirely wrong. On the considerably darker, who can say that it's not all a trap?"

He shrugged. "That's the gamble, you see. One that many people have decided to place their bets on. Not about to go all-in myself, but I must admit to being curious as to how this will all turn out." And it had managed to line his pockets at least once, even if the pay wasn't quite what he would have liked. The money was different, but made of precious enough metal that he could at least sell it on market when he returned home.

"Three floors so far," Balthier continued, holding up the same amount of fingers. "How many we have left and how to get to the next, I couldn't tell you. But, if you want to go back home, save the world, it looks like we'll all be walking the same path." The sky pirate cocked his head to the side as he waited for Rishfee's reply. Didn't help with the Organization problem, no, but a way out was a way out.

Fran was hardly to surprised to hear that Balthier had managed to deal with the monster that their guest had become. After Ivalice's impressive wildlife most things would be of less concern, save for the inherent fact of the unknown. And they dealt with the unknown rather frequently.

"It is as he says," she agreed. "I cannot says how your skills work, but to risk becoming as they are is a risk I would not wish to take."

Not after her experiences with that other set of monsters that had briefly walked the streets of the City. True, they had hardly been Heartless, but one experience with that sort of sheer animalistic rage was quite enough and that one had least been something that was reversable. The Heartless, on the other hand, had no such guarantee. Who would be able to survive one's own 'darkness' and yet return unscathed?

The prospect was hardly one she was interested in testing.

"As many as our captors deem fit, no doubt."

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Of Pirates and Blue Mages [active]

Gosh i hate work. ; ; sorry for lateness!

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