nonomoribird: ({countless visions haunt me in my sleep})
nonomoribird ([personal profile] nonomoribird) wrote in [community profile] paixaorpg2012-01-10 02:39 pm

The unsought [Active]

Character(s): Ansem, Yorda, Mao, the Master, and Urd.
Content: Ansem has plans for Yorda... and those who know her aren't happy.
Setting: Spira, the Calm Lands
Time: Late morning, late in Week 37
Warnings: Violence, darkness and a case of mistaken identity.

Yorda had quickly learned what to expect whenever Ansem had summoned her. The questions, not all of which she could answer, the doors she'd been made to open, and worst of all, the subtle reminders of her delicate situation. She'd stay with him in order to protect Mao - she had to, or Ansem would hurt him. So the glowing girl had been wholly compliant, bearing her situation without complaint - though meeting Kuja had helped. Arrogant and dismissive as he was, at least he wasn't Ansem, and she'd taken to bringing him tea whenever she saw him lurking about, listening to him talk about himself. It was company, at least, and although she didn't know how long she'd been locked away in the building, she'd found herself growing fond of the odd man, even if she didn't know what he was doing there.

The princess glanced nervously at the windows of her quarters and repressed a shudder. It was always dark in here - she always had to light the lamps or go by her own glow in order to find her way. She'd kept the curtains closed, not wanting to see the strange, sharp shapes hanging over the glass. Yorda tried to push it from her mind and went back to reading the book in her lap - a tome about the history of Paixao. At least Ansem generally allowed Yorda to do as she wished here, as long as she obeyed him.
thesoundofdrums: (yell)

[personal profile] thesoundofdrums 2012-01-17 12:44 am (UTC)(link)
"Get out of the way."

The Master's hands gently wrapped around Urd's shoulders after her shockwave of power had swept toward the Darkness. There was no electricity in his hands generated by his dissolving life force, but there was a static feel to his touch that sat in the valleys of his fingertips. Had Urd turned to face him, she would have seen him undeterred by the majesty of her angelic wings.

Instead, his face only spoke of the miles he traveled through Paixao and Spira, following a collection of scents that would not leave his memory, to come to this scene. His ratty clothes had grown more shaggy as the cuffs of his pants were shredded under his worn boots. The collar of his hooded sweatshirt was glistening with sweat, even if he could move at incredible speeds with relative leisure. What drew him to run and search to dilapidating ends was now on the ground before him, seemingly immobile and helpless.

It did not take long for a centuries-old Time Lord to piece together everything that had happened in the moments before this encounter. Instead, he took a moment to piece together the gravity of the situation. He had briefly interacted with Mao once before, but having never met him, The Master had no real clue as to his real character. Seeing him in the way he was now, retreating into a stupor, he could only imagine Yorda doing something for the boy like she did for The Master.

And here was Urd, a promise maker and a maternal angel, and even she was losing her edge to the power of this sinister plot. He came in the moment she began speaking out to Yorda and witnessed her ethereal transformation. He was finally able to see the goddess in her true form: a beautiful force protecting other beauty. There was something poetic about it, and it almost touched The Master. Still, there was one major player to the scene that drove him to where he was now.

The girl on the ground. The girl who had tempered his insanity for the briefest of moments and offered clarity in the form of a caring embrace. It was all he could have wanted, and all he would have despised if it offered to him. It was enough to drive him away in fear of losing who he had identified himself as for as long he could remember. He was a Time Lord who was used at the hands of his ancestors for the sake of a failed redemption. He was excluded from everything and all he could do was run. Finally, with Yorda, a true companion, he had something he could run to for once.

At the sight of this only refuge being driven away from him at the hands of a man he had only met for a moment yet understood the evil that lived in him, he could only manage a single sentence. "Get out of the way."

Moving just beyond Urd, he tore at his head with wiry fingers before flailing open and pouring a hideous and hurt bellow toward Ansem. At that moment, his hands were lost in the azure light of his remaining life gushing out of him.