[ Damn. This twink sure hits hard? Aymeric gets slammed in the stomach with the butt of Prompto's gun? Sword? Which weapon is this. It connects and he staggers back, but purposely takes several steps back to be alongside Hijikata, looking at his profile as he barely makes an inch forward during this time where the clock stops ticking. He grips onto his sword... Pointing it at his friends.
The emotions come in waves, stronger than before. They're suffocating, despair in full, longing as strong as a siren's call. He can only think back to Ishgard... If his home would suffer under the weight of their enemies, he would want to fight to the end. The smallest voice that tells him the people is what make the nation is snuffed out. The situation here is different, all those they care for are destined to perish.
Is this the legacy they want? ]
Why? You must know why—watching this... Watching this transpire once more... We are simply bidding their lives on a platter. This may be the past, but they are still people. Their lives are still worthy.
[ It is too much to bear. His glower sharpens, fiercer than before. There is the brightest burst of hope in the flooding emotions. His blade shifts positions, now in a stance to charge. ]
We do not need to lose... It can be different this time. This time, we can save those we wish to save. Those we yet to save. Their fates can be changed by our blades!
[ cool drama monologue but she is kinda bleeding out here.
Meteion can't really make sense of the situation here, why attack... them, then? One arms holds herself as best she can, barely managing any of her injuries as she bleeds out. She doesn't even have the strength to move from where she is. Her other hand rests on the sheath of her sword, despite the stance she still doesn't draw it.
However, she looks weary when he moves closer to Hijikata. The plague of negative emotions from earlier and now are clashing horribly with another.
That hope, though. She wishes she could support it, encourage it. But the mission.. the mission. She isn't convinced one way or another yet with a 11. Part of her wants to though, to save every life she can. To save those she cares about... but there's the other part of her that knows it can't end that way. It needs to end how its meant to. To save more lives at the cost of few.
She.. she doesn't know what to do.] We... We have to..
[ Gunbutt gunbutt, which he can't believe that actually connected. He'll drop the gun for now and rest his hand on the handle of his sword friend.
There's wariness as he sees Aymeric standing close to Hijikata. Gripping his hand tighter as he lets all the stifling emotions wash over him. He feels all the anguish, the suffering, and the pain. He feels the hope.
Then he does the emotional equivalent of leaving it all on read. There's a steadfast sense of duty, knowing what they are doing is the right path. ]
We wouldn't be saving them by altering the course of history. You know the whole world hangs on the balance. It may be painful, but this is our duty.
[ Drawing his sword and moving into position. Maybe if he keeps his distracted long enough... ]
If we must fight, then... [ Steeling his emotions as best as he can ] Come at me, bro.
[Aymeric's sword - which has been whispering such a depth of loathing and fury and isolated loneliness to him this entire time - can't seem to contain itself. It was barely holding back before, but as Aymeric reaches out to it and embraces its goals, it reaches back in return, grasping for him and holding on tightly.
"There is no one to accept my extended hand..."
It wails, hanging on jealously to what it has finally found. It's afraid, it's hateful, it will stop at nothing to seize this chance - and so shall Aymeric follow, because they're the same, aren't they? His loss is its loss, its pain is his. It finds this all so awful. Why not save that one precious life? Why not change a painful, rotten history? Would he leave Lucia dead on the battlefield? Would he leave Estinien to be decapitated by Imperialists? Would he leave Ishgard to ruin? This sword feels to Aymeric like one constant, endless howl of anguish that he can understand intrinsically.
Beneath the clothing he had picked out earlier, traces of black begin to etch across the small patches of skin that can be seen, like a tattoo. His eyes shine an unnatural shade of blue, burning fever-bright. The air around him crackles as though charged with electricity, the faint flicker of blue spirit-flame shimmering.
Prompto and Meteion will feel this burst of curdling, negative energy, and instinctively know what is happening, because their swords - they? - know what this is. The feeling of a sword, corrupted. The feeling of a corrupted sword, corrupting its wielder in turn. That cyclical feedback loop of misery and hope, escalating to the point that neither can be saved.
As if threatened by the very possibility of history changing in this pivotal moment, the world outside of the fortress begins to fold strangely at its edges. You can see it through the doors, through the cracks in the wall: this world, this timeline, is already beginning to die. Far out on the horizon, the sky greys and darkens. Tendrils of miasma begin to snake through, grass withering and browning below it as it goes.
Though their movements are slowed to a near-stop, Estinien and Hermes suddenly look stricken, pained, as though something poisonous is coursing through their veins. Prompto will also notice that one of the soldiers near Hijikata is the friend he had come all this way to find. Noctis, too, looks like he's suffering - though unlike the other two, it seems he was already in quite a state even before all of this. A haphazard wrap of bandage and gauze covers part of his head and an eye, and he looks pallid even in this desaturated state.
Prompto and Meteion's swords recoil at the encroaching destruction. If things keep going like this, the world will die, and these people will lose themselves along with it. Isn't that a fate worse than being stuck on the losing side of a war? Worse than death itself...?
In the end, it boils down to this: if they abandon their duty and attempt to save Aymeric - or lose to him, or lose to their own desire to save their loved ones - then this timeline will suffer the same fate as the dead world beyond the window. If they follow through and stop Aymeric, they will save this timeline and its inhabitants, at the cost of Aymeric and those they hold dear, losing the chance to turn back time and save anyone they've lost.
[ He should feel bad for hurting Meteion and seeing the tears well in his eyes. How long has she been crying? He doesn't remember... He can only focus on keeping the moment. The faces now flash by his mind as the dark miasma takes him. He practically breathes it. He's blind to the effects, unknowing to how the world starts collapsing around them.
His sword is still pointed, but his spits venom first with bared fangs, obviously out of his mind. It is unlike him, too much unlike him, yet he digs at wounds anyway. ]
I saw your friend die, Prompto... And some are here. Have you reconciled with them? You can now, but instead you would forsake them? You would betray them. Again.
[ Disgust coils him... There is an ache for battle. His blade will only feel satisfied to know there's nothing to crush their hope. They've lost too much. ]
Lucia—Bass. Clarte... What point is there to live in a star without those you love? [ It's a low question, asked to no one. The people around him suffer and decay with this question sounded through the air. ] No matter how doomed a situation, the people you love are worth the fight and struggle, regardless the cost.
[ First, he takes only one step forward, but then he darts at Prompto with his sword lined with a spirit's dark flame. It burns to the touch and roars their sorrows, searching for flesh. It does not end in one slash, Aymeric pursues in his assault. This sword will sink all in its path, so will he. ]
[ Can't believe Aymeric was hiding that he was a minor character this whole time. This is the real reason Promptorella turned him down.
He can feel his blood run cold at what is happening. For a moment, an image of his DNA donor corrupted by Starscrourge comes to mind. He promptly pushes it down because there's bigger things to think about here. He has to stop this.
Prompto can't go a week without a friend using his fears against him I see. You would betray them. Again. I saw your friend die, Prompto. The words coupled with seeing Noct there are enough to make him waver as Aymeric comes at it full force.
17, 15, 7, 7, 1 5, 4, 4, 2, 1
He can feel the bite of the blade slashing are his chest, stomach, and arms. The only one he manages to block against or miss blocking but miss getting hit is the last one. He's a bloody boy.
Using their double fail at the end and ignoring blood loss, he'll swing his sword at him intending on fighting for the world regardless of the cost. Sorry Noct, he has bigger things to worry about. ]
[ why is aki making me hurt our golden boy... Aymeric pushes on that last strike that is parried, displeased by the sound of the matching clang. When their swords separate, it is with so much force he has no time to block the incoming blow. Worse, his sword is knocked out of his hand and rests a reachable (since I didn't roll a 1) distance away.
Prompto's blade runs through his torso, connecting and exiting through his back with a fat roll of 20. Blood had already been trickling down Aymeric's fringe, down his face, his arm, but he starts coughing up blots. The roof of his mouth is covered with a metallic taste... But it doesn't overcome the suffocating despair. Would they lose those who have survived to this point? Noctis, Estinien, Hermes.
The burn in his hand scalds burns deep, agitated from holding a blade. The air only lets the mark fester, agonizing yet not as painful as the yearning for an old world. ]
I see this is your answer...
[ His hand grabs onto the blade, letting the sharp edge bite into his fingers. Time to use the power to shatter a weapon with one touch. ]
[ Empty. An nearly empty void. Surely, she should be feeling something, whether its the pain from her injures or the pounding dizziness coursing through her head.
Her body does not feel her own, slumped on her knees as she clutches at herself firmer. If things keep going like this, the world will die, and these people will lose themselves along with it. It's awful. Everything has been wrong since the moment they stepped into that room. To change a star's fate... it was bound to death either way. But, the cost of a few for the mass... tears still trickle down her cheeks, face growing more pale by the moment. Her very blood slowly pooling beneath her. She... she isn't going to last much longer, is she?
No amount of running she does now will change anything. She wants to apologize, even if it was not a promise she tried. She.. can still try. She can do something, can't she? She wants to, but Aymeric's misery and hope are so tightly wound. Ah... she's.. so tired. She doesn't want to lose anyone else. She doesn't want to lose Aymeric, Bass, Hermes, Prompto.. she doesn't want to lose anymore people.
But she doesn't want to condemn a star dead. Wouldn't that mean that.. people are dying either way? Why make them choose? At least one way, they were still... saving some lives, right?
What point is there to live in a star without those you love?
A heartbroken, pained wail sounds from her at those words. She doesn't-- she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to live in a star that does not have them-- she tries to push onto her feet but staggers, slipping on her own blood and collapses back onto her knees and hands.]
Pl-please... not... not like this.
[ Of course she wants to fight for them. She wants to fight for them to live. But that wasn't their duty, and that is clashing so strongly against what she wants. The clash of swords sound before her and she can only watch through blurry eyes as they counter and slash.
However, the moment the sound of something shattering comes to her, she's pushing onto her feet even if her vision spins. ]
A-Aymeric, don't! Please! Listen! You don't... you don't have to do this-!
[ it's too late to change, isn't it? its been too late.. since the start? ]
[ Nothing like feeling your sword friend who you are emotionally linked to being shattered. It's like his heart is directly being shattered. It's like being all alone in the snow after Noctis knocked him off the train all over again. He feels the tears falling in hot streaks down his face, the blood coming from where the blade and bullets have torn into his flesh. ]
No! No no no...
[ He chokes back the sob that is clawing it's way to the surface. He still has a duty to finish. He pulls back the sword handle which now has Aymeric's blood with his own. Then he thrusts what is left of his friend into the elf once again. He has to end him and there isn't anything left to live for but completing the mission ]
[ He doesn't? He doesn't need to harm them? That isn't a possibility he can realize. Prompto gets another stab with his broken sword, puncturing Aymeric again, though not as deeply as the last. Still, it lands. With his bloody hand, he shoves Prompto aside, but not that far. It doesn't have enough force.
He's quick to take his sword again, almost possessed to do so, and the blue flames decorate his silhouette. The darkness starts covering him, as if devouring him whole. The ballad of sorrow continues to play with the smallest signal of hope at its center, burning bright despite the bloody mess at their wake. Aymeric has lost a lot of blood. He's in excruciating pain.
But the sword calls. His blue eyes grow brighter than ever before. ]
I—[ coughs up blood in okita's name ] Will keep fighting for them! This star shall not fall!
[ Those are only delusional words... They can hear it and Aymeric can as well. Tears well in his eyes because deep down this is the last thing he wants. It may be obscured in the smoke that billows the field, but maybe it can be felt. That distinct plea for end... His form starts shifting as his skin gets patched with black. Bone starts to jut out of smoke, rattling alongside the sword's howl.
They must take him out now or never. I am forcing the fatal strikes now, please choose to dodge or TAKE HIM OUT OF HIS MISERY. Prompto is still in his sights despite Meteion's begging. His sword glides through the air, seeking its target. ]
[ Wouldn't it be better to just lie down and let whatever happens.... happen? Every movement is excruciating pain, borders of her vision blackening and a splatter of blood drips from her untreated injuries.
But, she can't just let them fight like this. She has to do something. With a 12, she's fortunately got just enough strength to push onto her feet and make her way over. Though she was hoping to try and shove both her and Prompto out of harm's way... she rolled a 5 and isn't able to secure her own safety.
So, either she's met with a fatal blow, or perhaps someone thought about putting a ring on it? Have at it as I scurry back to cleaning. ]
Prompto is prepared to take the final blow. He's already been prepared to die at some point this week, even if it means no longer being able to talk to Noct, to hold a dear friend's hand, to laugh with the actors, or to keep any of promises to make it to the end.
His sword has been shattered and it's only fitting that he is shattered with it.
Closing his eyes as he lifts his hands only for the blow he was waiting for...never to come. It's not until he opens them that he realizes that everything hits at once. The sound of bird peets coming in and Meteion taking the finishing blow meant for him. No no no... not Starshine! ]
Meteion!
[ He catches her. She can die in his arms, but he will be using his ring to save her after death. ]
[As a tweat for Prompto, in the last moment before his sword shatters to bits, he'll feel - well. Loss, absolutely. Regret. It had wanted to stay and support Prompto and Meteion through this hard fight. It wanted to go home, at the end of this all. There's a sense of ah, as if something like this was inevitable. And then, a voice that whispers through his mind; a simple, tired:
"I've killed my fair share... So this kind of thing can happen, too..."
As for the ring: Prompto can use it on Meteion after her death, and after a few moments of stillness and silence, her body will jolt, and she'll return to life with a desperate breath.
The sword at her side is desperate to get them home safely, especially now that they've lost one of their own, and it will rally her through its misery as best as it can. She'll find that her most fatal wounds have healed enough that she isn't at risk of dying again, and that she isn't incapacitated due to bloodloss anymore, though she will still struggle with some dizziness.]
[ Wow... This is so sad? But there are no tears here. Aymeric, so removed from who he is, cannot see how this pains him. Not when he's engulfed with the sword's flurry of emotions. He merely watches Meteion revive with a neutral expression. ]
... Would that this sorrow speaks to you as it does I, then you would understand. Without the star, there is no purpose.
[ Prompto, I guess, while putting Meteion aside can use her sword to parry this blow if he so wishes. Unfortunately, Aymeric is quick to make work. Even if his logical mind tells him there is no reason to kill his friends and allies, the sword... Just wants blood. It also tells him they'll be in the way of saving those who live here.
So he quickly stabs her right in the heart, driving his blade through to make sure the blood pumping through the organ pools. Anyway, this is Prompto's chance(?) ]
[ WOW can't a guy get a moment for loss and revival here?
He is weaponless besides the handle of his sword. He still needs to put an end to Aymeric. He's already pondering on going for his gun, when the elf is upon them. Prompto goes for the sword at Meteion's side to use it to block his blow. But it's too late to do anything for the bird.
Without wasting time, he's going to slash the sword across hoping to get Aymeric and end this once and for all ]
[ Prompto, your GUN. Just because you are fond of a gay sword you knew in another life. The gun would have been helpful here. Aymeric watches Prompto going at him with Meteion's sword instead. He's too sluggish to dodge it and gains a slice across his chest. It's hard to see, but the sound of ripped fabric and the drag of skin against blade should be enough for Prompto to know. Some blood sprays from the cut immediately and drips in pitter patters onto the ground.
The darkness is thicker, blacker, and what can only be seen beyond it are the faint edges of Aymeric's face from the illumination of his eyes. Raising his sword, he ushers a whisper. It sounds more like himself, soft and remorseful. ]
I'm sorry.
[ But even that is eclipsed by the sword's emotions. May Prompto have one last glimpse of Noctis before this blade comes down on him. ]
Unfortunately for Aymeric's future guilt, Prompto can't really dodge with bird there. The sword lands true stabs through him. He will see Noct in the background moving further away slowly. Putting his arm around Aymeric as everything fades to darkness for him. One last effort to keep him there and not messing up the time stream. ]
Aymeric has won this battle. As the bodies of his two comrades lay in this greying room, and the tendrils of darkness begin to creep further into this doomed world, maybe he'll feel something like regret, or guilt. Maybe he's too far gone to feel anything but elation at the thought of his success, however twisted and malicious it is, because - all he'd wanted... all they wanted, was just an end to the cycle of ceaseless death that they could never truly escape from.
This world is doomed. The plantlife will die out. No more rain will fall here. The people will become mindless, tearing at each other and themselves until nothing is left. But perhaps... now that he's broken past every barrier set before him, now that he's slashed through every taboo - perhaps he'll be able to do something. All he has to do is go back in time again, right? Maybe it will leave another dead world, or maybe this time, he'll be able to keep things from falling apart.
As the dying world consumes them, Aymeric will still have that single glimmer of hope to hold onto until his consciousness flickers away.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
saturations) wrote2022-03-14 04:57 pm
no subject
The emotions come in waves, stronger than before. They're suffocating, despair in full, longing as strong as a siren's call. He can only think back to Ishgard... If his home would suffer under the weight of their enemies, he would want to fight to the end. The smallest voice that tells him the people is what make the nation is snuffed out. The situation here is different, all those they care for are destined to perish.
Is this the legacy they want? ]
Why? You must know why—watching this... Watching this transpire once more... We are simply bidding their lives on a platter. This may be the past, but they are still people. Their lives are still worthy.
[ It is too much to bear. His glower sharpens, fiercer than before. There is the brightest burst of hope in the flooding emotions. His blade shifts positions, now in a stance to charge. ]
We do not need to lose... It can be different this time. This time, we can save those we wish to save. Those we yet to save. Their fates can be changed by our blades!
no subject
Meteion can't really make sense of the situation here, why attack... them, then? One arms holds herself as best she can, barely managing any of her injuries as she bleeds out. She doesn't even have the strength to move from where she is. Her other hand rests on the sheath of her sword, despite the stance she still doesn't draw it.
However, she looks weary when he moves closer to Hijikata. The plague of negative emotions from earlier and now are clashing horribly with another.
That hope, though. She wishes she could support it, encourage it. But the mission.. the mission. She isn't convinced one way or another yet with a 11. Part of her wants to though, to save every life she can. To save those she cares about... but there's the other part of her that knows it can't end that way. It needs to end how its meant to. To save more lives at the cost of few.
She.. she doesn't know what to do.] We... We have to..
[ They.. they have to do this. ..Don't they? ]
no subject
There's wariness as he sees Aymeric standing close to Hijikata. Gripping his hand tighter as he lets all the stifling emotions wash over him. He feels all the anguish, the suffering, and the pain. He feels the hope.
Then he does the emotional equivalent of leaving it all on read. There's a steadfast sense of duty, knowing what they are doing is the right path. ]
We wouldn't be saving them by altering the course of history. You know the whole world hangs on the balance. It may be painful, but this is our duty.
[ Drawing his sword and moving into position. Maybe if he keeps his distracted long enough... ]
If we must fight, then... [ Steeling his emotions as best as he can ] Come at me, bro.
no subject
"There is no one to accept my extended hand..."
It wails, hanging on jealously to what it has finally found. It's afraid, it's hateful, it will stop at nothing to seize this chance - and so shall Aymeric follow, because they're the same, aren't they? His loss is its loss, its pain is his. It finds this all so awful. Why not save that one precious life? Why not change a painful, rotten history? Would he leave Lucia dead on the battlefield? Would he leave Estinien to be decapitated by Imperialists? Would he leave Ishgard to ruin? This sword feels to Aymeric like one constant, endless howl of anguish that he can understand intrinsically.
Beneath the clothing he had picked out earlier, traces of black begin to etch across the small patches of skin that can be seen, like a tattoo. His eyes shine an unnatural shade of blue, burning fever-bright. The air around him crackles as though charged with electricity, the faint flicker of blue spirit-flame shimmering.
Prompto and Meteion will feel this burst of curdling, negative energy, and instinctively know what is happening, because their swords - they? - know what this is. The feeling of a sword, corrupted. The feeling of a corrupted sword, corrupting its wielder in turn. That cyclical feedback loop of misery and hope, escalating to the point that neither can be saved.
As if threatened by the very possibility of history changing in this pivotal moment, the world outside of the fortress begins to fold strangely at its edges. You can see it through the doors, through the cracks in the wall: this world, this timeline, is already beginning to die. Far out on the horizon, the sky greys and darkens. Tendrils of miasma begin to snake through, grass withering and browning below it as it goes.
Though their movements are slowed to a near-stop, Estinien and Hermes suddenly look stricken, pained, as though something poisonous is coursing through their veins. Prompto will also notice that one of the soldiers near Hijikata is the friend he had come all this way to find. Noctis, too, looks like he's suffering - though unlike the other two, it seems he was already in quite a state even before all of this. A haphazard wrap of bandage and gauze covers part of his head and an eye, and he looks pallid even in this desaturated state.
Prompto and Meteion's swords recoil at the encroaching destruction. If things keep going like this, the world will die, and these people will lose themselves along with it. Isn't that a fate worse than being stuck on the losing side of a war? Worse than death itself...?
In the end, it boils down to this: if they abandon their duty and attempt to save Aymeric - or lose to him, or lose to their own desire to save their loved ones - then this timeline will suffer the same fate as the dead world beyond the window. If they follow through and stop Aymeric, they will save this timeline and its inhabitants, at the cost of Aymeric and those they hold dear, losing the chance to turn back time and save anyone they've lost.
The choice is theirs.]
no subject
His sword is still pointed, but his spits venom first with bared fangs, obviously out of his mind. It is unlike him, too much unlike him, yet he digs at wounds anyway. ]
I saw your friend die, Prompto... And some are here. Have you reconciled with them? You can now, but instead you would forsake them? You would betray them. Again.
[ Disgust coils him... There is an ache for battle. His blade will only feel satisfied to know there's nothing to crush their hope. They've lost too much. ]
Lucia—Bass. Clarte... What point is there to live in a star without those you love? [ It's a low question, asked to no one. The people around him suffer and decay with this question sounded through the air. ] No matter how doomed a situation, the people you love are worth the fight and struggle, regardless the cost.
[ First, he takes only one step forward, but then he darts at Prompto with his sword lined with a spirit's dark flame. It burns to the touch and roars their sorrows, searching for flesh. It does not end in one slash, Aymeric pursues in his assault. This sword will sink all in its path, so will he. ]
no subject
He can feel his blood run cold at what is happening. For a moment, an image of his DNA donor corrupted by Starscrourge comes to mind. He promptly pushes it down because there's bigger things to think about here. He has to stop this.
Prompto can't go a week without a friend using his fears against him I see. You would betray them. Again. I saw your friend die, Prompto. The words coupled with seeing Noct there are enough to make him waver as Aymeric comes at it full force.
17, 15, 7, 7, 1
5, 4, 4, 2, 1
He can feel the bite of the blade slashing are his chest, stomach, and arms. The only one he manages to block against or miss blocking but miss getting hit is the last one. He's a bloody boy.
Using their double fail at the end and ignoring blood loss, he'll swing his sword at him intending on fighting for the world regardless of the cost. Sorry Noct, he has bigger things to worry about. ]
no subject
Prompto's blade runs through his torso, connecting and exiting through his back with a fat roll of 20. Blood had already been trickling down Aymeric's fringe, down his face, his arm, but he starts coughing up blots. The roof of his mouth is covered with a metallic taste... But it doesn't overcome the suffocating despair. Would they lose those who have survived to this point? Noctis, Estinien, Hermes.
The burn in his hand scalds burns deep, agitated from holding a blade. The air only lets the mark fester, agonizing yet not as painful as the yearning for an old world. ]
I see this is your answer...
[ His hand grabs onto the blade, letting the sharp edge bite into his fingers. Time to use the power to shatter a weapon with one touch. ]
no subject
Her body does not feel her own, slumped on her knees as she clutches at herself firmer. If things keep going like this, the world will die, and these people will lose themselves along with it. It's awful. Everything has been wrong since the moment they stepped into that room. To change a star's fate... it was bound to death either way. But, the cost of a few for the mass... tears still trickle down her cheeks, face growing more pale by the moment. Her very blood slowly pooling beneath her. She... she isn't going to last much longer, is she?
No amount of running she does now will change anything. She wants to apologize, even if it was not a promise she tried. She.. can still try. She can do something, can't she? She wants to, but Aymeric's misery and hope are so tightly wound. Ah... she's.. so tired. She doesn't want to lose anyone else. She doesn't want to lose Aymeric, Bass, Hermes, Prompto.. she doesn't want to lose anymore people.
But she doesn't want to condemn a star dead. Wouldn't that mean that.. people are dying either way? Why make them choose? At least one way, they were still... saving some lives, right?
What point is there to live in a star without those you love?
A heartbroken, pained wail sounds from her at those words. She doesn't-- she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to live in a star that does not have them-- she tries to push onto her feet but staggers, slipping on her own blood and collapses back onto her knees and hands.]
Pl-please... not... not like this.
[ Of course she wants to fight for them. She wants to fight for them to live. But that wasn't their duty, and that is clashing so strongly against what she wants. The clash of swords sound before her and she can only watch through blurry eyes as they counter and slash.
However, the moment the sound of something shattering comes to her, she's pushing onto her feet even if her vision spins. ]
A-Aymeric, don't! Please! Listen! You don't... you don't have to do this-!
[ it's too late to change, isn't it? its been too late.. since the start? ]
no subject
No! No no no...
[ He chokes back the sob that is clawing it's way to the surface. He still has a duty to finish. He pulls back the sword handle which now has Aymeric's blood with his own. Then he thrusts what is left of his friend into the elf once again. He has to end him and there isn't anything left to live for but completing the mission ]
no subject
He's quick to take his sword again, almost possessed to do so, and the blue flames decorate his silhouette. The darkness starts covering him, as if devouring him whole. The ballad of sorrow continues to play with the smallest signal of hope at its center, burning bright despite the bloody mess at their wake. Aymeric has lost a lot of blood. He's in excruciating pain.
But the sword calls. His blue eyes grow brighter than ever before. ]
I—[ coughs up blood in okita's name ] Will keep fighting for them! This star shall not fall!
[ Those are only delusional words... They can hear it and Aymeric can as well. Tears well in his eyes because deep down this is the last thing he wants. It may be obscured in the smoke that billows the field, but maybe it can be felt. That distinct plea for end... His form starts shifting as his skin gets patched with black. Bone starts to jut out of smoke, rattling alongside the sword's howl.
They must take him out now or never. I am forcing the fatal strikes now, please choose to dodge or TAKE HIM OUT OF HIS MISERY. Prompto is still in his sights despite Meteion's begging. His sword glides through the air, seeking its target. ]
no subject
But, she can't just let them fight like this. She has to do something. With a 12, she's fortunately got just enough strength to push onto her feet and make her way over. Though she was hoping to try and shove both her and Prompto out of harm's way... she rolled a 5 and isn't able to secure her own safety.
So, either she's met with a fatal blow, or perhaps someone thought about putting a ring on it? Have at it as I scurry back to cleaning. ]
no subject
Prompto is prepared to take the final blow. He's already been prepared to die at some point this week, even if it means no longer being able to talk to Noct, to hold a dear friend's hand, to laugh with the actors, or to keep any of promises to make it to the end.
His sword has been shattered and it's only fitting that he is shattered with it.
Closing his eyes as he lifts his hands only for the blow he was waiting for...never to come. It's not until he opens them that he realizes that everything hits at once. The sound of bird peets coming in and Meteion taking the finishing blow meant for him. No no no... not Starshine! ]
Meteion!
[ He catches her. She can die in his arms, but he will be using his ring to save her after death. ]
no subject
"I've killed my fair share... So this kind of thing can happen, too..."
As for the ring: Prompto can use it on Meteion after her death, and after a few moments of stillness and silence, her body will jolt, and she'll return to life with a desperate breath.
The sword at her side is desperate to get them home safely, especially now that they've lost one of their own, and it will rally her through its misery as best as it can. She'll find that her most fatal wounds have healed enough that she isn't at risk of dying again, and that she isn't incapacitated due to bloodloss anymore, though she will still struggle with some dizziness.]
no subject
... Would that this sorrow speaks to you as it does I, then you would understand. Without the star, there is no purpose.
[ Prompto, I guess, while putting Meteion aside can use her sword to parry this blow if he so wishes. Unfortunately, Aymeric is quick to make work. Even if his logical mind tells him there is no reason to kill his friends and allies, the sword... Just wants blood. It also tells him they'll be in the way of saving those who live here.
So he quickly stabs her right in the heart, driving his blade through to make sure the blood pumping through the organ pools. Anyway, this is Prompto's chance(?) ]
no subject
He is weaponless besides the handle of his sword. He still needs to put an end to Aymeric. He's already pondering on going for his gun, when the elf is upon them. Prompto goes for the sword at Meteion's side to use it to block his blow. But it's too late to do anything for the bird.
Without wasting time, he's going to slash the sword across hoping to get Aymeric and end this once and for all ]
no subject
The darkness is thicker, blacker, and what can only be seen beyond it are the faint edges of Aymeric's face from the illumination of his eyes. Raising his sword, he ushers a whisper. It sounds more like himself, soft and remorseful. ]
I'm sorry.
[ But even that is eclipsed by the sword's emotions. May Prompto have one last glimpse of Noctis before this blade comes down on him. ]
no subject
Unfortunately for Aymeric's future guilt, Prompto can't really dodge with bird there. The sword lands true stabs through him. He will see Noct in the background moving further away slowly. Putting his arm around Aymeric as everything fades to darkness for him. One last effort to keep him there and not messing up the time stream. ]
I... tried...
no subject
Aymeric has won this battle. As the bodies of his two comrades lay in this greying room, and the tendrils of darkness begin to creep further into this doomed world, maybe he'll feel something like regret, or guilt. Maybe he's too far gone to feel anything but elation at the thought of his success, however twisted and malicious it is, because - all he'd wanted... all they wanted, was just an end to the cycle of ceaseless death that they could never truly escape from.
This world is doomed. The plantlife will die out. No more rain will fall here. The people will become mindless, tearing at each other and themselves until nothing is left. But perhaps... now that he's broken past every barrier set before him, now that he's slashed through every taboo - perhaps he'll be able to do something. All he has to do is go back in time again, right? Maybe it will leave another dead world, or maybe this time, he'll be able to keep things from falling apart.
As the dying world consumes them, Aymeric will still have that single glimmer of hope to hold onto until his consciousness flickers away.]