[ closed ] your spirit is wild and your suffering is brief

[judgmentbolts]

Who: Cid & Friends & Evil Exes
When: October/November catch-all
Where: Nocwich & Free Cities
What: Event stuff + an eikon battle in Nocwich & the aftermath
Warnings: Standard FF16 content warnings may apply - references to systemic violence and oppression, fantasy dehumanization, fantasy slavery (based exclusively on whether or not the character bears magical abilities), genocide, abuse (physical/emotional), neglect, trauma, and violence. Likely nothing explicit but we're covering the bases here.

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[judgmentbolts]

[ Cid isn't there for the first clash, though he feels the impact even malms away, the shockwaves alone whipping up a wind that nearly knocks him on his arse. If they fight over land, it'll tear Nocwich apart, and that's just to start.

That's it, then. He's out of time.

Cid hasn't tried to prime since his arrival, and deliberately so, but when he reaches for his Eikon, Ramuh is waiting. It doesn't matter that Cid had given him over to Clive all those months ago; he belongs to the two of them now, it seems. Together, then.

Cid's arrival is preceded by the darkening of Nocwich's eternal night, the gathering of storm clouds blotting out the moon and stars. A bolt of levin arcs down between Odin and Bahamut, aiming to drive them back toward the sea — toward Ramuh, who waits hovering over the water. ]

Barnabas! [ Cid speaks directly into their minds, in the manner of all Eikons. Thunder rumbles, levin flashing as it wreathes his form. ] Hasn't Clive killed you already? Let's get you back before that god of yours gets lonely in the grave.

[ It's not bait so much as it is an invitation; one that he suspects Barnabas will be disinclined to refuse. If he can get Odin's attention, Bahamut will soon follow. Cid will need him, if they're to have any hope of finishing what he's started. ]

covers the age of this tag

[princeofruin]

[Insanity is enough if it gets him what he needs. With such a stark reminder of all he has lost -- and it is surely everything -- what has he to gain except blood through revenge? He was never in a position to kill Ultima, to give the animal exactly what it deserved. He could only bear Clive to do it in his stead. But now, without the temperance the Phoenix could provide, or the brutal force Ifrit could use to stop him, he is alone. The blood of Ultima's sycophant will satisfy all the same, until he wipes every world clean of the remainder of those who helped the god destroy their world. (His world. His family.)

If the dragon hears the taunts, he does not respond, so focused on his goal. The cut through the air slices right through the tip of his wing, and for a moment he is falling, pumping to keep himself aloft with one wing, until the second heals and he catches the air again with an earsplitting screech.

The clatter of lightning mere yalms away from him does not change his focus. Aether builds in his forearms, all three of his eyes focused on Odin, on the dark surging from his form. A darkness that can only be obliterated with true light, not lightning, not nature's ill parody.

That the burst of light that Bahamut releases does not only fire towards Odin, but Ramuh beyond him, splitting into multiple missiles of aether formed to explode upon impact, speaks exactly to where Dion's mind is now.

Lost. Again.]

[obscuris]

[ The attack hits and the beast falters for a moment and the only thing that prevents Barnabas from finishing it is the levin that crashes down between them. Between one heartbeat and the next Ramuh is there, presence a familiar pressure like a storm threatening to break. He speaks, and Barnabas allows his attention to waver.

He had not thought he would see Ramuh again. He never did get to see Cidolfus again before the end, see him burn up— burn out, consumed by Mythos, for all he felt his aether snuff out. He had not thought Cidolfus would ever prime again. Well. Not while keeping such a firm hold of himself, but Cidolfus does exist to flaunt the rules.

In fact, this whole situation could almost be familiar. If not for the interloper. Aether boils up in front of him like a volcano preparing to blow, an insistent reminder of Bahamut's presence, and Barnabas' attention is pulled back to him. He has only a second to glimpse him: wings arched, searing, blinding light building until it blots out all else, and then it is streaking towards him, screaming through the air. Barnabas sends another look over his shoulder towards Ramuh. ]

It seems to me that you may have other problems, Cidolfus.

[ Shadows wreathe his form, swallowing him up only to spit him back out over the water, out of the line of fire. ]