azume | Eighth.

ENCOUNTER.

It's been days since you were brought here.

Or, at least, you think it's been days; even if it's not something you're necessarily unfamiliar with, the stagnation of time and space are likely taking a toll, as is the fact that it's impossible to become spatially oriented in this place. The rotation of the walls to become ground beneath your feet, the floating patches of land with their bizarre floral biology, the pools of water flowing silently and horizontally directly above your heads... It's all a bit much to take in, a bit much to acquaint yourselves with.

Perhaps it isn't meant for you to become acquainted with at all.

The massive creature here with you has been becoming bolder over the last few hours; it's difficult to tell what's gotten into it, but its path through the shadows has been bringing it closer. Once in a while a sleek, sharply-spiked body can be seen twisting its way through the darkness; sometimes long, black tendrils with wicked-looking red tips are seen cutting through the shadows, each of them far larger than you are, before disappearing again into nothingness. It seems to fade in and out with the contours of the abyss; sometimes it disappears entirely, only to reappear so close to the patches of land you've taken to standing on that it feels liable to collide with them, that it seems almost like you can reach out and touch it if you wanted to. Whatever it is, your Pokémon don't like it.

You can tell just by being in its presence that it's one of the old ones, one of those whose memories span far longer than most of you can comprehend - one that's always been, since the creation of the world. An ancient and powerful entity, and there comes a point on one of those passes that's too close for comfort that it doesn't pull away and disappear again.

Instead it stays, and its head breaches the darkness, and it finally lets you see it.

It's massive, alarmingly so, in the same way that Dialga and Palkia were massive - not just in physical size, but in the way that something about being in its presence makes you feel very, very small. Its body is long and graceful in a way that's almost repulsive; it doesn't set down anywhere near you, or anywhere at all; instead, it simply is, hovering before you in a way that commands the stagnant, empty space before you, floating over the abyss like it was meant to be in it, like it's been here for longer than you likely care to imagine.

Those long black tendrils ripple a little as they stream out behind it; its body seems to glimmer in the darkness as it watches you from behind bright, red eyes. For the time being, it doesn't seem about to attack; just the same, it's watching you very, very closely.

What happens from here is, evidently, your call.

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[Ignis repressed a shudder, reaching to grip Camilla's hand tightly.]

No. Not this time.

[And there's that odd force again, the shifting and pressing of words and feelings and still there's that rage there -

THAT IS ALL YOU ARE GOOD FOR.]

Mortal and fallible though we may be, we want to stop such an end from coming to pass again.

[YOU LACK THE POWER TO DO SO.]

Perhaps. But we will continue on this path all the same. Death is inevitable as you say for all mortals, and I would risk this life in trying to help the world regardless of the odds of success.

[IN DOING SO, YOU HAVE CHOSEN DEATH. NOW. LATER. IT MATTERS LITTLE.]

And if it is a foregone conclusion, then what difference does it make to you if we attempt to meet our end fighting against it?

Edited 2018-11-10 19:40 (UTC)

[IT DOES NOT.

...Make much of a difference, presumably.]

Then I'm afraid I haven't yet understood the meaning of your words--whether they are threat or warning. If you believe the outcome to be unchanging, why show yourself before us and tell us regardless?

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[Chelsea shrinks back and gulps.]

You think? I know we're not powerful, but we're doin' the best we can. We don't have any option but to stop Cyrus.

[YOUR BEST WILL NOT BE ENOUGH.]

But... I mean, yeah, it's terrifying, but why? He's powerful an' all and seriously freaks me out, but...

[Okay, this isn't working. They need to deal with it differently.]

...what would you do, if you were us?

[There is a pause at that, actually.

YOUR PATH LEADS ONLY TO FAILURE.

...That isn't really an answer, but it seems to think it is.]

If we can't change Cyrus's mind, there's gotta be something. Spirit will always come back. Someone told us that, someone who'd know.

[SPIRIT HAS ALWAYS BEEN. AS LONG AS WE REMEMBER.]

That's rude.

[IS IT UNTRUE?]

You haven't even had any of his berry tarts!

[Ignis is good for lots of things!

Maybe citing something that wasn't "he makes me food" would've been a nicer thing to say but damn you gotta have them tarts!]

Michael...

They're very good.

I'm flattered, but I don't think that's going to work here.

It's a rhetorical point, Ignis. I'm not trying to feed Giratina your tarts.

[He also doesn't have any, so]

[........

in fairness

palkia did seem to like the tarts]

[...Yeah, don't mind her grip being really goddamn tight here, Ignis, she's. She's suddenly not doing so good.]

[That's okay, Camilla. That's what he's here for.]