Difference between revisions of "Snakes on a Plain"

Latest revision as of 09:15, 27 October 2012

Baigan has posed:
"Fools!"

For a man cursing his foes, Cornelius Baigan appears in unusually high spirits, his dour features enlivened slightly by a sly smirk, his red cloak rippling and gold-fringed epaulets rustling in the breeze atop his gloriously adorned chocobo. To his right, a contingent of lower-ranking dark knights; to his left, a squadron of dragoons. Above him are two of the Red Wings' smaller airships to provide reconnaissance, air support, and mostly a token show of force, while the vast majority remain behind to protect Baron proper and continue to secure the waters around it while more naval ships are built. Behind him are the common soldiers and the members of his guard who have followed him on this mission: to subjugate the Dias Plains, seize its towns and hamlets, and erect a fortress which will proclaim the might of Baron.

"To think they would defy us rather than surrender," the aristocrat snorts, shaking his head, adjusting the gilded sword at his hip, symbol of his rank as Captain of the Guard. With the legendary Cecil and Kain out of the picture, Golbez sequestered in his tower and the King having delegated authority in the sorceror's absence, the military's leadership has fallen upon Baigan, Baron's faithful steward, and his new sadistic whims. "Do they not comprehend how glorious it is to join with Baron? Have these folk of foreign worlds no sense of Baron's inevitable conquest of the Crystals? Their minds are corrupted by vengeful Mysidia's machinations, no doubt. Whatever rabble they have gathered will be nothing before our armies..."

And he sweeps his arm before him-- at what leads their advance.

"...and the power that Lord Golbez has mastered!"

A small horde of Shadow Heartless, antennae twitching, serve as the cannon fodder, and to strike fear into foes who lack the heart to strike them. Only the unbreakable discipline of the Dragoons and Dark Knights keep the rest of Baron's uneasy common troops in order at the presence of these strange creatures. There have been rumors of Baron allying with monsters, but no one is quite certain what these dark creatures are. Still, for now, they seem to serve Baron's will.

The small army crests a hill at the edge of Baron's territory, and before it lies the Dias Plains. "Now! Advance as planned!" The troops begin to split toward the various villages, some moving to seize a large hill at the center, as the Heartless themselves begin to divide. But what resistance awaits them?

Barbariccia has posed:
For all the majesty at the command of Cornelius Q. Baigan, Baigan of Baigans, there's a crack in his metaphorical armour through which a cold wind whistles. In fact, even if there's no /actual/ crack in his /actual/ armour, a cold wind whistles right down his back like an annoying, spiteful arctic lick anyway.

That's because a seven foot tall woman with enough blonde hair to choke an army and a curiously nun-like outfit emblazoned with the crest of Baron is sitting sideways on his royal-butt chocobo and blowing down the back of his neck in a manner far less exciting than it is ferociously unsettling.

"Do we /have/ to? They'll just run themselves into our swords anyway, so let's just sit back and watch." whines Barbariccia, Archfiend of Wind. The ever-recognizable master of disguise has her arms folded and a bored look on her face, even as battle is joined by heartless and footsoldier alike. Putting a finishing touch on her stupidity, she rolls her eyes and yawns into a hand.

The might of Baron's totally secular sorcerous leaders, y'all.

Kaydin has posed:
"It is dishonorable to rely on the heartless." Kaydin says, in full dark knight regelia, armor clanking. "With each person they slay, their forces become stronger and may threaten Baron. If anything we should be destroying them as well." He says to Baigan though when ordered to go forward he does, sword in hand as the chain on it's pommel rattles with each step.

Scarmiglione has posed:
This is the worst.

Baigan's gone mad(madder?) with power, attacking a place nobody really cares about, and Scarm 'Milon' iglione is obligated to help him waste everybody's time. "Oooh, thatched roof cottages, so strategically important. Oooh, a hill, we'd better annex that, it's VALUABLE." The hooded sorceror spits to the side (grass wilts where it lands) as he shuffles toward the outskirts of one of the many villages.

"And Heartless. Tacky!" He points a dessicated finger at a house, and lightning strikes, setting it very much on fire. "What's even the point of an army if we just whip them out every time SOMEONE decides he's bored? Feh." He points at another house, and an incredibly localized earthquake causes it to tilt and sink.

"This blowsss my day."

Rubicante has posed:
Unfortunately for 'Milon', he is not alone in his venture of 'burn down peasant homes.' "Complaints ill suit your station, Despot," rumbles the twelve-foot-tall man(?) beside the shriveled Milon, wreathed entirely in a red cloak adorned with blue and white spots.

"Our Lord has chosen this as our task, and so we must do it gladly." The man - who we'll call Rubicante now, because, you know - speaks in a monotone, devoid almost entirely of emotion, or even inflection. "Your distaste of the King's choice of lieutenant will be noted, however."

Despite the fact that he's ostensibly here to help, Rubicante doesn't so much as lift a finger to do so, letting Scarmiglione work out his anger on the leeches that decorate the battlefield.

Mercade Alexander has posed:
The other day, Baigan met a strange man in a land of steel, concrete, and light. A man in a simple leather coat, wielding guns as he defied the criminal mastermind Darkwing Duck. To Baigan, he made the mistake of defying his just apprehension of a miscreant.

But to Mercade Alexander, it was not justice. Following that confrontation, Mercade travelled to Baron and listened. He heard words of an upcoming battle. He heard that the power of Baron would be matchless and unstoppable, as the plains to the north would be added to the dominion of the militaristic nation.

Mercade, thanks to David Xanatos, has an interdimensional cellphone.

This is why Mercade, as well as the members of the Twilight Detective Agency, have called in assistance against the Baron threat. A Xanatos Enterprises strike team fires upon the Heartless position, appearing from cover behind trees to fire blazing particle beams at the advancing Heartless. Mercade himself stands upon a nearby hill. "All right, everyone."

He points down at the advancing army. He doesn't need to make any rousing speeches. PMCs don't give a damn and they're busy right now anyway. He and his friends, however, have their own talents. "Let's kick Baron's ass back home! If they conquer this land, Manhattan could be next!"

Mercade pulls two pistols, and begins sweeping gunfire into the advancing Heartless, leaping forward to gain the high ground and take evasive maneuvers to harry the wave of death heading for them. "Focus on taking down the tough ones! Deidra, bring down those airships! LET'S MOVE!"

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward had heard about the trouble here and came running. He wouldn't let a sorcerer take over anything. If it was like the sorceress in anyway it would be completely destructive. Ward had seen what the Baron people had done to the xarbucks with the duck the other day.

As Ward surveyed the battlefield he took his bandana off and wiped his brow. It was going to be a long fight and with the forces behind him it would be a brawl. Ward put his bandana back on and tightened up. He had dressed in his old galbadian armor for this. It was dusty and tight fighting and he was impressed he fit into it. The protection itself would lend him a little hope and felt him connect with Laguna and Kiros wherever they were.

'war, war never changes' he thought to himself.

he continued to watch. Ward felt like he should make a speech, but with his lack of it he felt bad. The best he could do is hype himself up he saw mercade order the strike team against the heartless ward decided to rush in and charge the foot soldiers striking them down easily. Ward brain clicked into war mode and he started watching his back and the others.

Deidra has posed:
So Baron had become a problem as it were and Deidra had fallen in once more with both Will and Mercade, she was happy to help. After all the biggest issue was Baron may very well be a thteat someday and honestly she can't sit idle with something going like this. She looks to him and nods once pulling her spell book. "I'll take care of the airships!"

She spreads her wings wide and catches the wind giving once last look to her comrades before she takes to the sky. Somewhere inside prehaps she was growing to accept her new state of being she'd not have been able to help against something like this before. The Gargyole now starts heading right at the nearest of the airships! Not even bothering to hide at this point.

Synestria has posed:
DEspite the large number of forces going past her, Synestria deliberately hides in a large tree to keep out of sight. However, as she climbs down out of the tree, the woman changes into her natural from behind a very large bush. Keeping low, she watches as the forces deploy......with heartless. She spits out a light hiss as she watched the Heartless, but didn't answer Mercande's calls to arms. She didn't think any humans would think she'd be an ally.

Will Sherman has posed:
Will stands next to Mercade...he looks around the battlefield...

Will appears to be a seventeen year old hobo, ratty clothing, a beat up but still stylish wide brimmed hat...and of course, messy brown hair that is mostly hidden by the hat, but a few unkept strands fall out from under the hat. Something...about this whole situation...

Is familar. Deep inside him, something resonates with this scene...not just the carnage, but the feeling one has right before a large battle in a conflict. He takes a breath...had he been a fighter before whatever happened? Will shrugs the thought off, it wasn't who he was...okay, it was who he was because he was about to get involved.

Then Will's hands snap out, each hand grabbing something...for a moment, any watching can see what looks like strings...one is his own string, the other is one that connects to Mercade.

A golden light runs through both, before he lets them both go...and he runs off.

Will eschews combat for the most part, looking to avoid the Dark Knights, but he does move around them, aiming to confuse while the lesser Armed Guards take advantage of him. He does pause only to tear through the Heartless, and then finally...

Appears right before Milon, his hand punching...litterally, PUNCHING the spell aimed to destroy the house...not stopping it, but giving it enough pause to let the family trying to get out of harms way time to run. There is a small pause, as Will looks down towards Milon, eyes narrowed. "What...in the hell are you two supposed to be?" he asks, noticing Rubicante as well. "Not human, that's what." he says.

Baigan has posed:
"Nnnggaaaaaaahhhh," is Baigan's eloquent reply to the Archfiend of Wind, his whole body spasming from the frigid breeze playing down the back of his spine, as his pompous air fades in favor of his eyes bulging and eyebrows twitching wildly. "Madam," he manages through teeth grit, adopting a look of injured dignity as he looks over his shoulder at Barbariccia, "you surely must be aware that tickling is /illegal/ in Baron and punishable by-- please do not yawn while I am talking!" After the gifts that, in the name of the King, Baigan has been bestowed with, he does not doubt that Lord Golbez is a wise and noble man with understanding far beyond his own ken. But--

He brought some unfortunate friends with him.

"Furthermore," he continues with a grandoise sweep of his arm, seeming to completely forget the troops that are rushing forward, failing to notice that someone is /shooting lasers/ at the Heartless over there, "this /outfit/ of yours is frankly bizarre. Besides being utterly impractical for battle, you--" Careful what you wish for, Baigan. Fortunately, he's distracted by Milon's usual complaining. "His Majesty's strategies must be beyond your ken," the aristocrat sneers. Of course, it was all Baigan's idea. The King does seem less concerned with the fate of Baron as of late. Maybe it was something he ate. "And Lord Golbez has endorsed the plan!"

EARLIER

Baigan opens his mouth to explain his plan and Golbez immediately starts playing the organ, drowning out all of Baigan's words, before turning his dark-armored form around slightly and shrugging once.

NOW

"All land travel within the Eastern Continent must pass through the Dias Plains! So--" Then Scarmiglione casually makes a house implode and Baigan clams up, lips tightening. "Master Rubicante understands, as always," he mumbles instead, nodding respectfully toward the Fiend of Fire. At last, one of Lord Golbez's men who isn't a pure terror.

There are all manner of motley mercenaries facing them now, whatever the villages could hire -- whatever fools know not the might of Baron! -- but most formidable of all seem to be the contingent from Xanatos Enterprises, which Baigan at last sees is beginning to decimate their Heartless. "Hmph!" No one cares about the little things, but he cannot allow such weapons to be turned on his men. "I shall ride to the front and lead the men from there!" Spurring his chocobo, he parts from the others and charges forward, to where Mercade is unleashing a storm of bullets. Baigan's unblinking eyes narrow.

"You!" he spits, leaping from his steed and landing before the detective. "Of course I would find you here. Seeking to foil me again? This shall be your last attempt, scoundrel! Ha... ha ha ha!" Baigan's hands begin to tremble again. "This time... this time I shall show you the power that Lord Golbez has granted me!"

He transforms.

His body elongates, head stretching, arms lengthening-- and then seeming to splitting, growing toothy maws, allowing himself to become the monster he is at heart. Awakening his demonic serpentine powers, Baigan leers down at Mercade, snake-arms chomping at the air. "Yessssss," he hisses, as magical build begins to build about him, generating an oppressive aura. "All ssshall kneel before Baron!"

"That's right, Boss!" "Indeed."

Confused, Baigan glances down. "...Eh..." Upon closer inspections, his snake arms are rather... distinct from one another. One has a golden fang. The other is wearing a monocle. A lengthy, awkward silence follows.

"WHAT ISSS THISSSSS!!??"

Scarmiglione has posed:
"Look. I need this." Milon responds to Rubicante in an almost civil manner. "Not all of us are fifteen feet tall and perfect, SOME OF US need to vent about how terrible everything is." And then Will makes his appearance.

"See? That doesn't even make sense, this bizarrely scruffy-but-handsome hero just...just did something, it doesn't even make sense, and I hate it and I hate him." Milon calmly explains it all to Rubicante, completely ignoring Will's question since he seems to have answered it himself to his own satisfaction. He raises a clawed, shrivelled hand, pulsing with malignent energies, and the world responds. The earth bubbles, turning swampy, and a man bursts forth from it; he is very much not alive, which is made obvious by the manner of putrid rot he is covered with. He immediately rushes toward Will, gnashing his horrible disintegrating teeth and clawing with his filthy nails. He is a gross.

"And that's why I'm going to kill him."

Mercade Alexander has posed:
Mercade fires blazing guns at the Heartless, lasers blasting all around him as the support team continues to fire into the army. They'll be busy for a while.

Suddenly, Baigan drops before him. "Look, you're totally not going to..."

Baigan transforms. "To..."

Baigan looms over him. "Oh, bloody hell." Mercade recoils from the snake-demon, grimacing as he quickly puts some distance between himself and Baigan. "Snakes! Why does it have to be /snakes/?" Mercade complains, as he slams in a pair of special bullets he had Cid craft. Tipped with mythril, the bullets pierce more than flesh, as he rains them down upon the snakeman. "I'm not going to let you pass!" Mercade declares. "Or at least... I'm going to resist strenuously!"

Barbariccia has posed:
It is with all of the practiced chutzpah (is it? Really? Is it /really/ chutzpah?) that she can muster that Barbariccia continues to yawn right in Baigan's face, covering her mouth and making her best attempt at a cute noise. "Afu~" she even makes the little idol-style kink of the wrist and rolls her eyes, all while poor Baigan stooges it out in the grandoise fashion only he can manage best. "Baigyan," yes, mispronounced, "it's not like any of these idiots are going to muster up a /fight/. Just remember the plan!"

This is about when a goddamned Gargoyle goes chasing the airships, and you can almost hear the disappointment settling in.

But ultimately, what happens here is that Barbariccia gives a haughty, contemptuous sigh because she's going to have to actually do something instead of just sitting around on a chocobo complaining a whole lot. Maybe she'll find a way to keep complaining even after she's jumped off. She is, after all, nothing if not talented.

And awful.

In completely unrelated news, a crisp breeze suddenly blows across the fair forms of Scarmiglione and Rubicante, carrying with it an important message.

"This is /all/ your fault. Faults."

At approximately That Time Plus Seven Seconds, Baigan's chocobo no longer has an enormous, leggy blonde in a blue robe sitting on it and someone has tied a pink ribbon around Snake Hand Prime. In fact, in curiously unrelated news, at That Time Plus Eleven Seconds, one of the Baronian airships has apparently decided to grow some kind of tacky ornament on the very tip of the bow. Some kind of big bimbo sorceress, or something.

Oh, wait.

"What a waste of time! Ugh~, someone get me a /throne/ already!" complains Barbariccia, whose irritating laughter carries through on the winds to the approaching Deidra. Carries through on the wind next to, you know, that incoming storm of lightning bolts.

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin walks with the Dark Knights and when refugees are caught between the two forces, Kaydin raising his hand to stop the dark knights temporarily an lets them pass before leaping forward with speed and momentium unknown for on wearing such heavy armor, bringing a black sword down to cleave a man in two.

Will Sherman has posed:
The swampy and gross man raises...

Will handles this like he does /everything/ and punches forward...splattering the man all /over/ himself and causes the spell to go off right on him. Will looks down at himself, feeling..grossed out by this turn of events, and grunts as he looks up towards Milon. His eyes narrow a bit...

"That was gross. Like seriously. Not /cool/ man." he says, before leaping at him, aiming to come right under the man...

Two hands come out, aiming to jab him right in the chest, right under where ribs should be, before flipping back and aiming to kick the man across the face...

And then aims both hands down, aiming to try and brain him.

"Come! We will fight like hobos!"

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward saw the knights stop and saw one rush forward. He broke off his attack and charged at the man rushing forward. With more quickness and nimbleness then a man his size should have.

Rubicante has posed:
Rubicante's head twitches slightly to the side, when Barbariccia's whisper reaches him, and he muses to himself, almost absently, "The Emprss has joined the fray already? How unusual."

He turns his attention back on Scarmiglione, as his... sibling(?) calls one of his favorite pets from the Earth. "I shall leave you to it, then."

And then Rubicante just... vanishes, disappearing into a whirlwind of flame. He reappears a moment later, not far from where Synestria is hiding amongst the bushes, albeit with his back to her.

Which makes it all the more surprising when he declares, without turning to actually look in her direction, "Why do you stray so far from Babel, lamia?"

Synestria has posed:
Synestria turns her head as the Fiend of Fire appears, though she doesn't know it's fiend of fire, of course. "That issssss becaussssse Babel hassssss never been my home. Why do you ssssssside with heartlesssssssss? Thosssssssse thingssssss aren't worth anyone'sssssss effort in usssssing." Of course, her hiss of distain remains about the heartless, but she's quite curious of this new person that appeared close to her, more so than the battle.

Scarmiglione has posed:
"Shut up. Shut up!" Scarmiglione looks up and responds to the wind, further cementing his status as 'a crazy-ass stinky hoboman'. He doesn't care if Barb can't actually hear him, she makes him angry enough (with approximately zero effort) that little things like 'appearing sane' don't seem to matter much.

And while Milon would like to further say several choicy things about Baigan and his stupid snake arms and Rubicante and his magnificently hateful physique, he finds himself rather occupied with Will's decision to pretty much just beat the hell out of him. "What, /you're/ complaining? Look what you just did to my cute little Skulnant. He had a /future/, you monster."

It appears that the fiend could continue in this vein, but then Will actually does beat the hell out of him, before he can really summon up any effective form of resistance. Luckily for the Hobo of Light, Milon's body does appear to conform to the usual standards of human anatomy, as the c-c-c-combo solidly lands despite his best attempts to shield himself with his weak little mage arms.

Moments later, Milon finds himself on the ground and out of breath, slightly more dirty, and way more angry than he was ten seconds ago. "You...you...ghhh..." His yellow eyes /burn/ with malice, and he pushes himself up to his knees.

So then he does the only thing he can think of and channels all of that hate and rage into something useful; a man-sized ball of dark energy that he explodes right where Will's head should be. "Perisssh!"

Baigan has posed:
The monocled snake arm rolls its eyes up to regard the pink ribbon that Barbariccia had covertly tied upon it. "I say," Sir Scraggletooth, Esq., murmurs to himself, fanged jaw flapping. "How fetching I look today."

"Come on, Boss!" The Snakesuation exhorts, its golden fang glinting in the sun above the Dias Plains. "Let's waste this chump! He doesn't look like he has any Reflect magic, so he can't--"

"Firsssst of all," Baigan is screaming at his own hands, "don't tell him about that!! And ssssecond of all, WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO MY-- argh! Gahh!!" Piercing bullets tear through his scaly defenses and shatter the magical barriers surrounding him, causing the giant snake-man to stagger back, reeling. "That /ssssstingsss/! Ha! Ha ha ha ha!"

"Ahahahahahaha!" The Snakesuation dutifully laughs.

"Aha," offers Sir Straggletooth. "Yes... how droll."

"Raaaghhh!" His curse-fueled rage causing him to forget his circumstances, Baigan lashes out with his golden-fanged lackey and seizes Mercade, lifting the detective into the air, jaws clamping down. "Die assss you are, filthy cur!!" The tightening grip begins to cut off his air supply, and the fangs begin to dig into his flesh. But all the more troubling is the way The Snakesuation is beginning to violently trouble. "Ahahahaha... FOR BARON!!"

"For the Booooossss--"

*BOOM*

And then there was one. Arm. One arm.

"Oh, my," murmurs Sir Scraggletooth.

Rubicante has posed:
"Ah," Rubicante rumbles, after a moment of pause. "I mistook you for a vassal. The error is mine." He turns, then, to face Synestria, his cloak swirling about him... although only barely, not enough to reveal what lies beneath the fabric.

"It is not my place to question the decisions of my Lord," he explains. "Obedience, I've found, is a virtue oft overlooked among your kind."

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin tries to leap out of the way but is too slow as he is thrown into the air. He looks down as he swings his black sword, sending a dark energy blast down at ward before spinning his sword, another blast of black energy launching out before he throws the sword down to try and stab Ward.

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward took the hit from the knight and grunted. He wouldn't let it get to him. He stabbed his harpoon at the knight and swung it at him and attempted to slam it down on kaydin.

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
Sarafina is stubborn and often one to turn a blind eye to the truth with the help of the traitorous poison of Hope--hope that she coul still protect Baron while remaining true to herself. With Cecil gone, Kain who knows what, Rosa missing, and even noble honorable Baigan murdering donuts and acting erratically--well, she's not sure she has many options left.

So she went to Mysidia.

"Look," Sarafina tells a Black Mage. "I don't like it either, but I need your help."
"Ha! you're a foul monster," The Black Mage sneered. "Just like the rest of Baron's men! "Nothing but an animal in false flesh. I should set you aflame where you stand!"
"The issue is grander than our animosity. something has taken hold of Baron, hell they may've ordered the attack themselves. Do you want to punish me or do you want to see them punished? If I know Baron's strategies--and I do--they won't be stymied by this chaos, they'll use it as an opportunity."
"We already know, /Captain/." The mage sneers. "We have already--hired--a group of powerful soldiers to stymie Baron's forces. They have powerful weapons as well, strange technology--"
"You can't mean--" Sarafina's eyes widen. SeeD?! they hired SeeD!?
"As for you... I think a new form shall suffice--"

AND NOW

A pig with demonic eye-having wings, wearing a jetpack of all things, flies into the Plains. She ... she can't carry a chainsaw while a pig, but one of her piggy paws has a gauntlet that glows vibrantly on it. A scar runs down one of the piggy's adorable eyes.

"Oink..." Sarafina the Western Pig says.

Synestria has posed:
Synestria says, "I am no Vassssssal, Ssssstrange one." She says before she turns more fully to Rubicante. "It isssss a shame really. With all of the troublesssssss going on, Baron now pickssssss this time for war and expansion."""

Mercade Alexander has posed:
Mercade's evasive maneuvers avail him not as he gets snagged and drawn in by the snake. He gasps, trying to say something, even purpling a bit as the snake-arm crushes him. This is not doing any benefits to his dislike of being killed by snakes.

He struggles in the clamping maw of the snake, trying to escape...

But he has a way out. He wrenches a hand free, firing into the eye of the snake moments before it bulges, the blast sending Mercade flying and impacting the ground some distance away, smoking but much less dead than Baigan would prefer. "Ugggggggggggggggggh." Mercade groans, pulling himself up. He is smouldering in a few places, but seems generally intact.

"Are you seriously arguing with your arms?" Mercade asks. "I mean, you seem to kind of... I don't know. Is this real ultimate power worth it? The scaling and molting has to suck."

Sarafina the Western Pig flies by, and Mercade blinks, staring for a moment. "... Was that... a pig dressed up like Sarafina?" Mercade asks. "That's so cute..." He whispers... Before another blast brigns him to his senses. "OH GOD NOT IN THE FACE oh right, not dying." Mercade snaps his guns forward, and he spins, twisting as he whirls past a Heartless attacking from behind, spinning as both barrels fire at Baigan. He slides in, lunging over the Dark Knight attacker and sweeping right beneath Baigan, unleashing both barrels upwards to knock him into the air, juggling him there for a momet with intersecting streams of bullets! Looks like someone's taken a page from the Woo style of fighting. INCOMING BULLET STORM!

Will Sherman has posed:
Will manages to only NARROWLY get his head away from the center of the explosion of darkness.

Only to have it still go off in his face, forcing Will to litterally bounce away like a ragdoll from the explosion, rolling across the ground and ending face first in the dirt. He doesn't move immediately, but slowly, he stirs, and growls...

He doesn't shout out ow, he doesn't cry, he pushes himself up...

If Mercade were paying attention, he'd know it was bad just by that itself.

"The hell are you?" he asks again, before...

Will leaps, aiming to try and throw himself right into the fray of the tiny man...rotting thing, and aiming to fists towards the side of his head again, followed by him dropping to the ground to try and take his legs out from under him...

Then he brings both hands down, aiming to drive them as hard as he can right into the chest of the monster, trying to cave it in.

Will wasn't holding back anymore.

Rubicante has posed:
"It is not my place to question the decisions of my Lord," Rubicante repeats, with precisely the same inflection and emphasis. "The battle will reach here soon. If you value your life, you ought flee. I will not stop you; your death would serve us no purpose, and your kind are without sin."

Deidra has posed:
Deidra is airbone to be sure and isn't quite undertanding of the fiend of air or just what she is. She's not the normal sort Barbariccia might be used to. She got levels in mage after all. However teh strange humanoid woman does get het attention as she comes under attack from some sort of magical assault. She falls prey to the winds and some lighting bolts but it's not enough to stop the Gargyole as she heads for the ships.

"Who the heck are you suposed to be? I guess your with them!"

She's got a spell book out and she's now casting some sort of spell at the fiend she might not feel very good in a moment if the spells does it thing right.

Synestria has posed:
Synestria says, "That would be true. However, I should sssssstate two factssssss. Firsssssst, Heartlesssssss should not be usssssed assssss minionssssss. They are jusssssst asssss likely to turn on you asssss they are to asssssissssst you. Consssssider that a warning." She then smirks a bit. "Sssssecond, you are correct, neither of our deaths would do anyone any good, but I think you dissssssappearing from your lord, then reappearing without a ssssscratch would make your 'lord' sssssssusssspicious of your actionssssss." She says before extending her fingers towards Rubicante. "I bear no maliccccce towards you, whomever you are." She says before hissing at him, electricity arcing from her fingertips.""

Negaduck has posed:
Trouble calls through various villages. Within the Dias Plains, the small villages are advancing and terrorizing the villages through the act of Baron. Oh the humanity. Baron is actually harming and attacking innocence.



There is even a cry for help as the Heartless have attacked. A man, woman, and a little girl are stuck in a wooden cottage home. They are surrounded by the Heartless.

Who shall save them?!

Gas fills the area, releasing the smog along one little cottage home.

"I am the terror... that flaps in the night! I am the gum in your shoe that makes the obnoxious noise when you step on someone's clean floor!"

The cape is held dramatically, "I...am Darkwing Duck!"

'Darkwing Duck' dives in to heroically grab the little girl and chucks her out of the house. And then, he steps outside of the house and turns towards the door.

Negaduck pulls out a flame thrower...

And he ignites the house into flames. The small little home starts burning with the mother and father trapped inside.

The little girl wails as loud as she can, trying to bang at the door as she tries to open it. Her parents are stuck, with the Heartless, and the house is burning down. Negaduck did not rescue the girl, he just brought the little girl out so that she can watch her parents suffer.

"Why... Darkwing, why?!" She looks at him tearfully.

"Little girl... you will remember this for the rest of your day. For you, the day Darkwing Duck graced your village was the most important day of your life... But for me..."

He gives a maniacal grin.

"It is just a Friday."

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin gets thrown back from the attack and stands back up as he growls at the fat man. He spins his sword again and would hurl it at the man, leaping past him to his sword, grabbing it and swinging it at the man, sending a strong slash for him. "Leave now before you die." He says to the fat man before his sword darkens in color and fires a blast at close range.

Barbariccia has posed:
Barbariccia, being helpful and wonderful as she is, mimicks having another incredible yawn-session as the telltale snapping hissing and popping of spells impacting on her magical defenses kick to life with an emerald green lightshow. Without one of those cheating SeeD bastards on hand to spam scan, in fact, maybe it's hard to tell if those spells even did anything. If they did, long and blonde ain't letting it show.

"Me? No! Goodness, I'm but an ordinary magician, out for a stroll!" crows the Archfiend of Wind, striking a pose with one hand held aloft. Her robes billow in the wind, since this is in the sky, after all. Her hair, curiously, does not blow around nearly as much as it ought to.

"Look, this is important. Get lost, grown-ups are busy here." scoffs the freakishly tall elemental woman with the magenta eyes, hovering off of the airship's deck and pausing only to smack a cute white mage girl on the butt, starting some kind of awful meme that will persist for the rest of her miserable existence.

"Okay? Okay! Now, I'm gonna kill you. Bye-bye!"

Blue and gold streak through the air as the fiend, totally incognito and stealthy, takes to the skies after the incoming gargoyle. The winds surrounding the airship fleet begin to pick up, making navigating treacherous! It's almost like, you know, the air itself is trying to smash all incoming jerks out of the sky itself. But a bunch of overpressure bursts are harder to really see than huge bolts of lightning, so it really doesn't look like much.

The tragedy of wind elementals.

Scarmiglione has posed:
"The hell are you!?" Milon angrily retorts. "And why are you still alive?" Seriously, that was some of his best stuff. The thought that a mere, pathetic mortal could get up and keep going like that is, frankly, unacceptable. This time, when Will comes running back up to beat the crap out of him, Milon is intent on not letting history repeat. Another zombie (way less gross than the last) rises out of the ground, an unliving barrier between the dark sorcerer-hobo and the pure-hearted brawling-hobo.

It pretty much gets exploded instantly, providing next to no actual protection, and Milon gets worked over in fairly short order, fists and feet making him feel even worse than usual. Finding himself down on both the ground and his luck, he lets out a snarling hiss, magic flowing once more. "Don't think so highly of yourself, hobo!"

Two more zombies burst out of the ground, arms reaching toward Will less to damage and more to restrain. The reason becomes clear as, in short order, lightning strikes. And then again. ZAP ZAP take that Barb you're not the only one who can do this shit.

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward's armor to the brunt of the damage as the balst went off ward covered himself quickly as reflex. Ward then smiled at the knight and grunted. He wasn't going to back off and pushed forward with the attack. Ward poked at Kaydin and then thrusted hard. Taking a quick half step back Ward tossed his harpoon into the air and jumped up landing on it, coming down hard on Kaydin.

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin tries to leap out of the way, managing to avoid being completely overwhelmed by Ward and is thrown back. He stands back up, panting a bit as he watches the man. "You are strong and fast." He says as he would pant heavily at the man, as if trying to catch his breath before spinning the sword and launching it at the man.

Baigan has posed:
"All ssscaling and molting and embarrassssing itching is a /ssssacrifice in the name of Baron/--" Baigan raises his remaining arm as Mercade slides forward, firing upward, the bullets deflecting off the snake-man's natural armor as the force of the attack nevertheless lifts him off the ground. With sweeps of his vast arm, the snapping Sir Scraggletooth sweeping away the bullets flying at him. "Aaahahahaha!"

"I say, do watch the monocle!"

"SSSSHUT UP!" Baigan screams, as he lands heavily on the ground, the earth shaking from the impact. "You are worssse than Lord Golbez's minionsss! ...No offensse, Milady..." He then mutters, flinching downward. Well, there's no way she can hear him all the way up there, right? Right.

Whew.

"Now then!" the monstrous captain roars, turning on Mercade with a sneer on his wide serpentine features. "Come here, you sssslippery little man!" Heedless of Sir Scraggletooth's constant complaints, Baigan lashes out with his fanged arm again and again, attempting to smash Mercade into the ground. "Ssssuffer!"

Rubicante has posed:
Rubicante doesn't even react as the bolts of lightning rake across his cloak, leaving long strips of burnt-black fabric in their wake. After a beat, however, he does shake his head slowly from side to side.

"I offered you escape," he mourns in his usual deadpan. "And yet in your pride you choose to throw your life away. Perhaps you are not so different from men, in truth."

"But very well," he sighs. "Shall I show you what lies under my mantle?"

For the first time, the cloak enshrouding Rubicante's enormous body shifts... but not because of any movement of his body. Instead, it simply lifts away from him as the air underneath it suddenly rockets upwards in temperature, a wave of heat hitting Synestria in the face as if she had just opened the door to an oven.

Underneath the cloak, now billowing around Rubicante's shoulders and practically horizontal, he - and it's definitely a he, now - is both A) amazingly cut and gorgeous, and B) totally naked, oh dear.

"Come," Rubicante calls to Synestria, lifting one hand from his side to hold it out towards her. "I shall strip you of your weariness. Face me at full strength."

Sure enough, a brilliant golden light materializes in the air around Synstria, seeping into her body. It feels... it feels...

... it feels so refreshing!!

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward was breathing heavy and nodded at Kaydin when he made the comment. This fight was making his blood boil. It felt good to him. Ward spun his harpoon over his head and gave a quick swing at Kaydin.

Mercade Alexander has posed:
"Ugh." Mercade says as he sees his bullets spang off. "I need bigger guns." He says to no one in particular. The snakearm lashes out, and Mercade spins, the head whirring past him so close that the air wake launches Mercade up into the air, causing him to spin wildly. "WAAAAAAAAGH!" He yells. "I AM TOTALLY SUFFERING PLENTY! JUST RELAX! I AM /NOT/ LOVING THIS CRAP!"

As he passes overhead, he spins, hoping to keep himself just as slippery as ever, while he reloads his guns in midair. Like a bawss. "I'LL BE RIGHT WITH YOU!"

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
Sarafina sees some fires in the distance and shifts tracks, jetting over thataways. She sees that duck again. With a little girl? Gloating at fire. She knows Negaduck's modus operandi now. Really, it's nothing fancy.

The world's strongest pig busts in through one of the windows, cutting out the fire a fair ways before she nears the window to avoid, you know, adding more fire to the ... fire. She ends up smashing through one, landing in front of very frightened and--now--very confused parental figures.

"OINK OINK!" She says.
The parents don't look a pig towards the mouth and rush towards the pig who grabs the mother's hand via the gauntlet and drags her to to the window, pushing her out of it. It's not exactly a huge house so it's not a big drop if it is an uncomfortable one. The same methodology applies to the father who says, "That's a duck that is destroying our lives out there."
"Oink." Sarafina affirms.
"And we're being rescued by a flying pig."
"Oink."
"I'm a simple, god-fearing man..."
"Oink."
"But now I don't know what to believe--"
"Oink!" Sarafina irritably chucks the man out as well before hopping out herself.

She now smells like pork, though, and is comically covered in charcoal.

"oink!" She points towards the pig, and then gestures its piggy paw down. "Oink!"

And then a car attempts to use him as a speedbump. "oink?"

Deidra has posed:
Deidra can very well make use of wind herself she's mostly ice and wind to be honest. She narrows her eyes at one the white mage getting swatted on the rear and the other being the woman? Wind Elemental comes after her. She's nopw at the mercy of the wind. She's buffered smacked around and attempts to keep airborn against this friend whose before her. She can strike back and she does hanging on to her tome she unkeahses the wind right back at the Fiend of Wind. This can't go wrong right? This totalyl can not go wrong!

Synestria has posed:
Synestria's eyes open wide as she sees this 'transformation'....and blushes as she realizes the fiend's state of dress. However, as her weariness fades away, she DOES realize that she may not be able to defeat this person......for fiend as the case may be. "I believe I have heard rumorssssss about you. Rubicante, if I am correct." She definitely knows this will be a tough battle, as she tries to slink out to cover, and make some more electrical crackles arc from her fingers, knowing this attck won't hurt him much.....

Baigan has posed:
"Thissss customer ssservice is terrible! Ah ha ha ha!"

Baigan, did you learn that term from Negaduck? Chortling to himself, the snake monster simply looks on in amusement as the detective flips overhead, yelling down at him. Seeing his foes scramble before him is so satisfying the Vanguard of Baron easily forgets that he's failing to connect most of the time. "Accursed fool! You sssshall fall, asss all thosse who face Baron fall! Witnesss the true giftsss that have been granted me--"

The stump of his left arm begins to twitch and pulse, his whole body briefly writhing, until with eerie and discomfiting sounds the arm begins to regenerate, at last resulting in the same fanged maw as before.

"Oooh," the Snakesuation says, complete with gold fang. "That tickles."

"WHY ARE YOU SSSSTILL HERE!?"

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin leaps back and raises his sword to swing it down and send a black energy blast for Ward. He then moves a few steps forward and sends another blast before panting once more.

Barbariccia has posed:
Perhaps predictably, the cute brunette in the white mage robes frowns approvingly as a force of nature smacks her on the butt, and scuffles off somewhere belowdecks so I don't have to pose her anymore. Also predictably, the winds receive their orders to turn against Barbariccia and... and... the air just kind of gently combs her hair, after a stern glare from the towering blonde demon-fiend-meme generator.

"Ohoho~. . . another creature of the skies? How sweet! But..."

Half-leaning out of her robe, which only stays on due to the magic of ratings, Barbariccia waggles a disapproving finger at the gargoyle as she luxuriously lounges around midair without a care in the world as the airships truck onwards. Indeed, maybe they start bombing children or something. Barb don't care. She's entertained.

"You just need a little /time/~" she winks at Deidra from above, now suddenly lounging on her side as though the air itself were a wonderfully cushioned couch for her to eat grapes on and snark from.

Physics ain't workin' no more.

"Come and see me when you're a big girl, 'kay?"

The most playful (and least useful, arguably) fiend blows a kiss from her position at the gargoyle. It's an electric kiss. No, literally, the skies above suddenly light up as thought it were the midst of a terrifying electrical storm. Even without a cloud in sight, brilliant golden bolts of power coil together somewhere high in the Fantasysphere and surge downwards in forking, arcing declarations of elemental might.

"Chu!"

Undoubtedly, as he always does, Scarmiglione finds himself curiously wanting to puke literally everywhere because of this.

Rubicante has posed:
This time, the lightning rakes across Rubicante's bare flesh. ... well, 'flesh.' This time, there aren't any burns at all... but the lightning does seem to leave tears in the fiend's skin, from which drift small clouds of bright-red embers.

"I am Rubicante, the Autarch of Flame," Rubicante confirms. As he speaks, he swings his hand around, to follow the moving lamia; the air around her suddenly grows hotter, as if she were now /inside/ the oven she had opened the door to. An instant later, grass around her feet - and the ends of her hair - begin to spontaneously combust...

... and then, suddenly, the air around her explodes into flame, engulfing the lamia in an eruption of fire.

Will Sherman has posed:
Will's luck isn't holding up today...

The Zombie explodes upon contact with the fists of Will, but the lightning and other magical assaults rain down on him, causing MUCH in the form of pain. Will litterally, though only intense perserverance, manages to continue going.

Of course, the thought that would cross Scar's mind would be hilarious of he every vocalized it, years from now.

Will jumps back...He's got not much left...he's gota perservere...last a little longer...

He moves, aiming a weak pair of strikes, aiming to try and continue building up damage on the fiend.

Then, he follows through...with another pair of quick strikes.

"HA! DIDN'T EXPECT THE SAME STRIKE TWICE!" he says, with a grin.

Will Sherman: Master statigest.

Negaduck has posed:
Cackle and gloating are generally what 'Darkwing Duck' does. He looks at the little girl with a bemused expression as she cries and wails over her fallen parents. "BWAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAA! YOU WILL FEAR THE NAME OF DARKWING DUCK, GIRL!" He glares at her, "Or maybe, you'll become an angsty teenager with a large sword and a cold attitude and will seek revenge for your fallen parents."

He gives a shrug, "It's the hot thing these days, doncha know?"

And then comes Mighty Pig busting through and saving her parents.

Blink.

Negaduck's eyes light ablaze before he snaps, "WHO DARES TO UPSTAGE DARKWING DUCK?!" He stomps on the ground angrily.

The little girl runs away to go towards the pig.

"MOMMY! DADDY!"

'Darkwing Duck' gags, "Ugh, happy reunions make me sick..." Then, there is the obnoxious music, "WILL SOMEONE TURN THAT CRAP OFF?!" Negaduck glares towards the pig, "Alright, Power Pig...." He already designates her a name.

*SLIIIIISH!*

Negaduck whips out a large saber while he edges close to Sarafina, the little girl and her parents, who are all huddled against each other.

"Time to make THIS LITTLE PIGGY GO TO THE MARKET BY----" And the music gets louder.

"WILL YOU---"

SQUISH! By the time that Negaduck turns to see the mess. It was too late. Essentially, Negaduck was turned into a pancake by the APC. As it passes by him, the pancake Negaduck rumbles...

"Worst... Friday... Ever."

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward takes the blast full on in the chest stopping him for the moment. Ward lets out a roar and comes at Kaydin again throwing his harpoon and then charging into him to retrieve it.

Quistis Trepe has posed:

But that's not all that's going on in this rustic cottage. A haystack out in the yard starts making engine noises.

"Looks like they're using gas," says the APC commander. "Masks on."

The driver and gunner switch down their masks. They have full face plates for maximum protection, and because they aren't junctioned to any GFs to grant them excessive superpowers. The control lights of the two highly individualized helmets light up in the dark recesses of the Balamb Motor Solutions light recon armored vehicle. The commander pulls herself up into the cupola.

A blonde head peeks out from the haystack as ropes are slashed. Straw is still stuck everywhere, but now the wheels are able to move forwards. The vehicle rumbles forwards, pivoting towards the duck in front of the cottage, even as it burns.

The commander attempts to whistle up paramagic on the flames, to save at least the frame of the building.

The two helmeted SeeD cadets in the vehicle can be very dimly seen through slits. Lights flashing. Music starts to blare out - hard, repetitive electronic music fresh-cut from the Galbadian underground club scene, and which therefore may seem like PSYWAROPS to anyone who is unfamiliar with them and also over the age of 20.

"Well THIS is a bad scene all around," Quistis Trepe observes into her respirator mask. "I hope /he/ isn't going to complain too hard."

The APC revs up and aims to run over Negaduck, meanwhile.

(This part was an exciting recap due to editor error!!)

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin leaps from the harpoon and into the air. He shakes his head as he takes a breath before spinning the sword and hurls it at the man, falling to the sword to spin it again and hurl it at the man.

Mercade Alexander has posed:
Mercade's back in the game.

"Do you always have problems with this?" Mercade says. He needs to start doing some damage, and fast. With a yell, he fires upon Baigan, raining down more of those mythril bullets, before he hits the opposite side of Baigan. He slides in, driving his shoulder for the snakeman's gut in a surprise maneuver, moments before his coat drops.

Revealing a Remington pump-action shotgun, which he grins. "Here, meet my little friend." He unleashes a series of explosive blasts that could possibly send Baigan flying!

Synestria has posed:
The Lamia coils herself up and covers her flesh with her scaled tail, which happens to be sheathed in ice. As the inferno explodes around her, the ice melts, leaving the lamia with no scratches upon her. "Sssssso I wassssss right. The Autarch of Flame. I should be honored to faccccce you in battle. Unfortunately, while thisssss battle issssssn't for pride, for either of usssssss, I mussssst insist, whether by forccccce or with wordsssss, that you do NOT need heartlessssss, Lord'sssss ordersssss or not." She then attacks with a third crackling of electricity against the fiend of fire, but also adding an air attack, and a strange third attack.......

Quistis Trepe has posed:

OONTZ OONTZ OONTZ OONTZ

Something in that golden flash catches Quistis's eyes for a moment. This distracts her from the situation even as SeeD Cadet Operative Bangalter steers the APC fully over Negaduck.

As S.C.O. Homem-Hynesto looks in the rear view, he reports, "No sign of antagonistic duck detected." His mirror doesn't show the ground, but you can't expect everything. The APC pulls off to the side as Quistis peers towards the energetic Suid.

"Power Pig," she says, slowly. Her nostrils flare slightly in the respirator mask, but she can't smell bacon through it. "... That's strange, you look almost exactly like..."

Ward Zabac has posed:
ward jumped up after being hit by kaydin's blast. He swung kaydin trying to slam him into the ground. Then slamming him again. Hoping Kaydin would learn to stay down.

Scarmiglione has posed:
"Persistance. Willpower. The undying resolve to never give up, even in the face of incredible adversity." Milon stares at Will as, once more, the oppositely aligned hobo continues to fight on. "I think I'm gonna h-h-GRRRK." Suddenly, the disguised(?) fiend is overcome by nausea, and while his face remains covered in darkness...I'm gonna spell it out, he pukes a little in the back of his mouth FOR MYSTERIOUS, UNKNOWN REASONS BARBARICCIA.

So he's a little distracted when Will decides to press the attack. Strike, strike. Milon's finding it tough to hold it in, but he's managing, just barely. Strike, strike again? It's too much. Something, a little bit of neon green liquid, comes out from under that disgusting hood. Will, tragically, is in the fabled splash zone.

"...urrrgh. I don't even..." Clearly unwell, Milon staggers back, glaring at Will and wishing he knew where the Fiend of Air was so he could glare at her, too, as if somehow he could simply hate them both to death. Keep on dreaming that dream, Milon. Keep on dreaming.

Rubicante has posed:
And /this/ time, something... strange happens. The first bolt of lightning suddenly turns at a right angle and slams into the ground, leaving a small pockmark in the earth. The blast of wind simply boils away, absorbed into the superheated air keeping Rubicante's cloak aloft, and the third spell he simply... ignores, as if nothing had even been thrown at him.

Rubicante's response to the words that accompany the attack is simple; he narrows his eyes, and glares at her.

And, of course, the air around her is still hot as hell -- literally -- and only getting hotter.

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin shakes his head as his body begins to darken with black energy. "I can do this all day." He mutters at Ward as he looks to him and then he flies right for Ward at impossible speeds, bringing his sword at Ward to try and stab him, though as he does, the sword glows black before a massive blast of darkness is launched at the man, the knight panting from the attacks.

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
Why does he keep calling himself Darkwing Duck? Maybe he's hoping for brand recognition. This darkwing duck is clearly a monster. Of course who else but a monster would call themselves 'Darkwing'? Sarafina readies her pig-arms, ready to fight back against a duck. She figures since he's a duck, they'll be more or less on even ground now? "Power Pig...?" Pause. Actually maybe it'd be a good idea to go along with this. "Ahem. Yes, I am the vigi--" Pause, no this is a duck. He won't buy that. "I am the pigilante--Power Pig! And you Darkwing Duck are a vile.....duck." She already regrets her decision but if they don't know it's her--

Quistis speaks to her. Sarafina starts to speak but--wait. Almost exactly like--

"Almost exactly like who??" The pig's eyes narrow, gauntlet shimmering dangerously. She pauses. No, no, they're here to help. You'll beat her in a triple triad duel or something, that will be your revenge.

"Thank you for, er, defeating Negaduck. I guess ... ... ugh ... ... Power Pig wasn't needed."

Quistis Trepe has posed:

"Where do you get these jetpacks?" Quistis asks, adjusting her glasses. "You're the second person I've seen with one that looks like that. And uh - I apologize if we've interfered with your personal conflicts."

Deidra has posed:
Deidra looks at the being whose clothing only stays on through the some strange power she's got to wonder about that in the back of her mind. Then she realises wait is this woman hitting on her. There's a bit of skin crawling there for several factors she's not into such a thing and really she's got ya a bad feeling about this woman whorever she is regardless of any personal feeling. The kiss attempt just seals it as she evades the shocking move by the fiend of wind and moves to start changing her tatics.

She summons the icey cold forming lances of ice she all rains down upon Barb attemping to drive her from the skies!

Jean Faraven has posed:
FACT:

Recognizing the growing threat of Baronian aggression, various townships and communities of the Lia plains had pooled their resources together in order to contract SeeD for to augment their cadre of local militias and travelling do-gooders.

FACT:

Planting local agents to masquerade as regular townfolk and radio in the proverbial cavalry at the first sign of trouble had been phase 1 of SeeD's overall defense coordination.

FACT:

Quistis sure took her sweet time in getting here.

"About time." A disheveled, one-eyed old man with a hunch to his gait and and strawspun cloak muttered to himself from behind a thatched hut as the APC roared overhead on ineviable collision with what appeared to be an evil duck, the new face of terror in this ruined world.

"Time to stop playing around." The straw cloak flew off into the air to the tune of his straightened gait, and the old man was suddenly none other than /Jean Faraven/, agent of SeeD in his familiar black fatigues, scraggly hair and domineering eyepatch. The revolved of the dark gunblade, Anubis, clicked into place as the channeled essence of the Hound of Hell flowed into Jean's veins with junctioned power. One gunmetal gray eye snapped open, and Quistis's comm would suddenly register his voice.

"Good to see you, Specialist. Pacifying the enemy."

FACT: Pacify is Jean lingo for kill.

The earth shudders, the air pulses and Baigan's snake-sense or whatever the hell he has might start ringing alarms off in his slithering head as the point of the Hound's black fang (His gunblade, it is metaphorical) careened towards his back in a brilliant thrust of sub-sonic speed. There was nothing much in it-he'd just been the first thing Jean saw.

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward was stabbed and it hurt badly. He grunted through the pain and casted cure on himself. He sighed and looked at Kaydin. They seemed at a stand still.

Synestria has posed:
Rubicante may not have hit Synestria hard, but he definitely hit her with something that could cause a few problems. She hisses at him, but is already planning her escape. Her words were heard, and even the fiend of fire must listen to a warning of such magnitude. Even as her scales continue to carry the heat from the attack, Synestria tries to concentrate upon her magic, and upon Rubicante's form, minding the ties of the magic on him....

Will Sherman has posed:
Will winces at Milon as he...starts visibly being ill.

"Are...you o...ew. That is just wrong man. Like, seriously. I mean, I knew some guys that lived in garbage dumps, but you are by far the...just...wow." he says, in awe and revulsion at the same time. "How do you be so ... nevermind." he says, and jumps back...

He's got one strike...one chance at this.

His eyes see the strings for just a moment. He dances forward...aiming to try and aim a series of quick strikes to try and break through the old man's stench, before he turns...

He piviots on his right hand, aiming to send both hands into the side of the Fiend, if it hits...

EVERYTHING CHANGES

For a moment, just a brief moment, the world around the two shatters...the ground being blood red and sandy. Building everywhere are shattered broken husks, great heros and beasts of champions are all dead, slain...their carcus' left out to rot in the blood red sun. And there is Will, litterally trying to use whatever magic this is to /shatter/ the fragile bonds of fate that connect him to this world...

Then it ends as quickly as it begins, before Will turns, aiming to send a powerful kick into the side of the Fiend, aiming to send him flying.

Rubicante has posed:
"Tsk," Rubicante intones, as Synestria weaves threads of magic into protective patterns around herself; he raises his arm again, and clutches his hand into a fist... and, suddenly, the threads around Synestria begin to dissolve from in between her metaphysical fingers.

An instant later, as she has her hands full with that, the ground beneath her suddenly erupts, a column of flame erupting out of the earth and puddles of magma - or at least something that looks like it - seeping up out of the dirt.

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin pants as he pants heavily, watching the big guy. "Any chance we can just call this a draw?" The knight asks curiously as he just stands there, resting himself.

Negaduck has posed:
And so, on this day, Darkwing Duck was defeated in the hands of an APC. He was squished over and turned into a pancake. It was all in the days work, right?

No.

There is one rule that many protagonists and heroes should learn. Never. Under any circumstances. Ever. Take your eyes off the enemy. Why? Many of the are crafty. Many of them have ways of getting around any and every bad situation before him.

"HEY, DWEEBS!"

Or if you're Negaduck, or 'Darkwing Duck'. ...

You're on a BFV(BIG FRIGGIN' VEHICLE).

The vehicle itself is similar to a Hot Rod. It's a Monster Truck that has gargantuan-sized tires. The front of the vehicle has monster-like jaws, making chomping sounds as the headlights shine on both Quistis and Power Pig.

"If you think I am going to set this down..." He starts revs up the vehicle and it charges straight towards the ladies.

"YOU ARE GOING TO BE FLATTEN! FRIDAY, FRIDAY, FRIDAY! WITNESS DARK RIG 2000 MAKE ASPAULT OUT OF TWO DORKS AND A HOUSE THAT DECIDED TO GET IN DARKWING DUCK'S WAY!

Negaduck asides to the audience, "Sure, it's usually Sundays, but why wait?" He winks. He turns back to run the two over along with the house.

Synestria has posed:
Extending a hand towards the magic Rubicante sends out, Synestria is able to block those dispelling attacks and send them towards the high powered fire attack Rubicante sends her way. "Dessssspite how much you are dissssmisssssing thisssss as a battle that isssss beneath you, Rubicante, I am learning much from you. Sssssomething that could be usssssed to help." She says with a bit of a smile. However, she does arc more electricity towards Rubicante yet again, still keeping herself in cover from the hulking, and nude, form of Rubicante.

Barbariccia has posed:
"O--ho~!"

This is the exultant battlecry of the Archfiend of Wind, whose primary objectives have been completed as Scarmiglione 'Papa Johns' Scarmiglione barfs into his own mouf, a sure sign that Lord Golbez's ambitions are being realized in every possible way.

Missiles of ice and hail streak down from the heavens towards the windy lady, who responds in kind by shifting off of whatever invisible air-couch she's been lounging on until now and hopping back down to the deck of the airship, where she slaps both hands on her hips and beams proudly as... as she invites a hailstorm of foot-long and inch-thick icicles to rain onto the propellers. This shields her from harm, sure, but it also doesn't do much for the poor ship's speed.

"That's so great! But, y'know, don't you think all the iciness in the upper atmosphere is kind of a drag? I'm more of a temperate girl, myself!"

Maybe she can feel the love from downstairs, where Scarmiglione no doubt is trying to think how to murder her with his /mind/.

Barbariccia raises a hand, and we get a brief dramatic Anime Magic Cutscene angle close-up as she smiles eerily and looks towards Deidra with half-lidded eyes. "Okay, well, I guess I should get serious. You could be a thorn in Lord Golbez's side!" a beat. "And Baigan's. I guess."

Another beat.

"/Ugh/."

Luminous motes of gold and green wreathe about the fiend's wrists and hands in a gentle flow of raw elemental command, waiting to be unleashed. The skies above--and in the air below, too, a thick swirl of grey stormclouds spreads outwards from absolutely nothing. It isn't actually very impressive, yet, it's sort of like a big splotch of spoiled yoghurt in the air. But what follows is a little better. Kind of. For someone, anyway.

"Anyway, you gotta fall now. These ships are /real/ important! Ufufu~"

In a nearby secret lair, one of Golbez's organ pipes sprouts a minor leak. He frowns, and strokes his chin (with his helmet still on, natch.)

It comes from beneath Deidra, and above, and truthfully from all around the flighty gargoyle. Inbetween the rumbling layers of cloud, all hell breaks loose. Visible green bursts of magical airpressure explode like cannon shells, and bolts of lightning as thick as a man (and taller than most houses) fill the air.

All the while, Barbariccia's giggling like mad as she forces the poor gargoyle to dodge through her magical obstacle course. What a ho.

Baigan has posed:
"Aaaah ha ha ha ha!"

Baigan is gloating hysterically now as, with both arms restored, he brings his scaly defenses up to deflect Mercade's bullets again, laughing all the while. "You fool! I have no problemsss! Thisss isss a minor malfunction which Lord Golbezz will sssurely soon correct after I crusssssh you!"

"Spare me, Boss!" the Snakesuation, obsequious, pleas.

"Good Captain," Sir Snaggletooth dryly replies, "do beware the larger weapon."

"What!? Ggaahhh!" Hurriedly, Baigan brings both his arms up again, and ends up literally sliding across the ground, crunching up dirt from the impact of Mercade's explosive shotgun blasts. Staggering back, scales smoking, Baigan glances down at himself to find, with relief, he was mostly unharmed. "Hmm, perhapssss you are more usseful than I thought--"

"Thanks, Boss!"

"NOT YOU!"

Something in the Baigan's snakely brain warns, with prehistoric pretention, that he would be better served not getting distracted by the chatter of his own arms. But as the war rages around him, the malformed Vanguard can only wrinkle his serpentine nostrils and squint, feeling as though he ought to--

"Gaaahhh!"

The Hound of Balamb's attack tears into the Baigan's exposed back, sending him reeling forward, whereupon he spins on his giant heel, glowering down at the man in the eyepatch. "You-- hmm?" Strangely, Baigan hesitates briefly, narrowing his eyes into slits as he stares. That eyepatch-- could that man be one of the leaders of the mercenaries their sketchy intelligence described? Baron knew little about the resistance it would be facing, but this man--

"You kept me waiting."

Baigan smirks-- before he lashes in both directions, each snake arm snapping out toward Mercade and Jean, respectively. "Nothing personal, bub!" The Snakesuation shouts at the detective as it attempts to sink its fangs into him. "I say, be careful, sir," Sir Snaggletooth says, sounding faintly ruffled, as it tears at Jean's dominant arm.

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward sighed and shrugged. He knew he couldn't back down and Kaydin knew that as well. Ward stood up covering his hand covering his wound. He charged at Kaydin using his Harpoon and swinging his hand as hard as he could. And bringing it around to hit Kaydin in the side.

Scarmiglione has posed:
"Just...ugh." Milon continues to stare hatefully, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve even as Will learns firsthand what it /really/ means to be a disgusting hobo. It means living in filth, it means living in a world where dignity /does not exist/.

But unfortunately, it seems that Will's soul still burns. This, THIS, is why Milon can't stand heroes. So stubborn! It would all be so much easier if they would just give up and die peacefully, but no. They have to keep punching, and kicking, and plunging him into a terrible post-apocalyptic world where everything has come to ruin, and --wait, what?

For a few blessed moments, Milon is free to wander about in this delightful new realm, frolicking amongst the corpses, exulting in the end of all things. In the darkness of his hood, for the first time in a long time, he smiles.

And then it's over. The terrible vision and the smile, both. "What was...what was that?!" Milon shouts at Will. Without waiting for an answer, he reaches out with his terrible claws, looking to grab Will and shake him mercilessly. Malice pours out of him at this range, also stench, dark energy spilling out in every direction.

"Tell me!"

Rubicante has posed:
Once again, the electricity sent Rubicante's way bends sharply away from him at the last moment; this time, one of the bolts shoots off into the distance and strikes a tree, which erupts into flames.

Suck it, Scarmiglione.

"You are not without ability," Rubicante concedes almost conversationally. "But the novelty of our exchange grows thin."

And, with that, suddenly Synestria is in Hell.

Trees, grass, and bushes for hundreds of feet in every direction abruptly erupt into flame; literal sheets of fire wash off of Rubicante's body, sweeping across the ground in all directions.

After a moment, Rubicante sweeps his hands forwards, and his flames focus themselves into a red-hot beam of fire that converges on Synestria, threatening to entirely consume her.

Mercade Alexander has posed:
Mercade twists, knocking the snakehead out of the way by bludgeoning it with his shotgun. "Nothing personal, man. I know how it is." The Detective nods, getting some distance... And then he sees the other man who just chopped into Baigan. "What?" He says, squinting.

FLASHBACK

A hooded woman of Arabian descent leaves the Traverse Town Coliseum, with a grizzled man with a gunblade in tow.

UN-FLASHBACK

"YOU!" Mercade calls, circle-strafing Baigan as he works his way to the other side. "Uh... Who are you?" He asks Jean.

Will Sherman has posed:
Will is just barely able to manage to get out of the way...his fist blocking the old man stench coming from him, but it still wafts...causing him to become more and more ill, and also suffering from the effects of barfing every five seconds. Because, seriously, that's awful.

However, Will holds his hand, not in that way you sickos, but holding it away from his throat.

"...I don't know actually, I know I just can do it. I don't ask questions about what I got, I just use it." he pauses...then, slowly, "Or the end of everything. I don't know really."

Then, he moves, aiming to KICK the chest of Scar repeatedly, aiming to repeatedly try and cave in that chest, before turning, aiming to launch him over his shoulder.

"Also, Personal space man! PERSONAL SPACE!"

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin tries to leap up but he is too slow and is hit hard up into the air and thrown quite far away before his unconscious body lands somewhere.

Deidra has posed:
Deidra is keeping to the iar for the momebnt and she smirks. "You might think that but what can I say your in need of a heck of cold shower."

There's no more time for. She's just feeling a bit annoyed just who is this woman anyhow? She pauses and wonders if that coment about being a thron as a compliment? She can't wander mentyally for too long however. The Fiend of wind is really kicking it up a lot, there's force of teh element of wind comming at her with wonton pain in mind for her. She starts to rise and twists making like she's the ship in the last star fighter evading th attacks but not left unscared. She's really angered this being whatever they are and it won't end well for her. She's seemingly a bit tired as she only fires a few bolts of energy at the fiend as she attempts to recover.

Synestria has posed:
"You were thinking that we were in the same capability range as each other, Rubicante?" Synestria says without Malice before the flames wash over her, not able to cover herself with ice this time. She rubs her scales on the ground to try and put out most of the flames, but it still burns. "I know what you are Rubicante. I never exxxxxpected to defeat you, but my warning mussssst be heeded, even if I have to blast it into you." She then waves her hand, trying her hand at a few lingering ice attacks on Rubicante

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
Sarafina is mostly just grumpy because Quistis said she just looked like a pig. SURE MAYBE THAT'S NOT WHAT SHE MEANT TO SAY but it sure sounded like it. She is professional enough to recover quickly, though, and she says, "Wait a minute... I talked normally--just the--OINK." God dammit.

She breathes out and starts waggling her arms to try and get Quistis to maybe use some magic on her. Like an Esuna or something? MAybe something like that? Instead, it looks like she's miming the Safety Dance.

She puts both paws over her eyes in frustration. She drops her hands and OH SHIT A VEHICLE WITH GNASHING TEETH.

Sarafina tries punching it. It chomps into her arms and she grunts, not really appreciating this position.

Instead she braces herself and pulls on her jetpack, intending to flat out push back the Dark Rig 2000. She is, after all, Power Pig!

And if Negaduck isn't careful, she'll just keep pushing the dark rig into the air before slamming it back down into the ground. For she is... Power Pig apparently!

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward collapsed to one knee. He was tired. Kaydin had taken a lot out of him. Ward went and found Kaydin's body and wrote a note on a piece of paper and slid it into his helmet. 'you fought well, don't beat yourself up over this. He then saw will being beat up and ran over to him. Charging his opponent.

Barbariccia has posed:
Glimmering magic missiles streak across the distance between the Fiend of Wind and the poor, beleaguered Gargoyle who has successfully navigated the Fill The Air With Tons of Crap spellcard on Lunatic difficulty. Well done.

"Ohohoho! Yes, dance! For Lord Golbez, da--" Barbariccia's crowing laughter fills the air, but is sharply cut off as a bright pink *PAF* of light smacks into her face like a sorcerous jab, forcing her to instead, glower angrily.

"I ... got... hit?" she mutters to herself. The fiend looks at her hand and her mood, pardon the pun, begins to cloud over. An aura of flickering gold begins to burn around her form, arcs of electricity snapping between her fingers.

"You /hit/ me.

Rubicante has posed:
With Rubicante's cloak open so, the three spikes of ice bite deep into Rubicante's flesh, parting it as easily as if it were cloth. He actually takes a step back, and although no blood seeps from the wounds, more embers trickle from them, around the edge of the icicles.

"Your inssitence falls not on deaf ears," Rubicante says, after a moment. "But on the wrong ones. If you so wish it, flee now, and go and beg my Lord's understanding."

"But until then," he practically scolds, "Be silent."

The enormous icicles suddenly begin to melt. No, not melt... dissolve, skipping the liquid phase entirely and slowly burning away into steam. As it does, Rubicante's 'flesh' knits itself back together, and he takes a step forwards, back into the position he was in before, and reaches out to grip his cloak, drawing it tightly around himself again.

Quistis Trepe has posed:

Quistis looks towards the sudden appearance of - "Sir," she says to Jean, tensely, before he leaps forwards into battle. Power Pig may be troubled by the sight of some kind of complex rankling crossing Quistis's glamour-model face.

BUT THEN

NEGADUCKS

As the sudden monster truck appears, Quistis arcs an eyebrow. "Gentlemen, I leave this to your responsibility," she says, getting up and straightening up to leap up gracefully in the air, landing on top of a nearby chicken coop around the time when the APC gets bonked into by Negaduck. The APC, being essentially a METAL BOX, suitable for transporting BATTLE BROTHERS (and sisters), is crunched upon but not breached... Though enough of that and it'll basically be an immobile metal box. Sub-optimal.

Quistis is briefly distracted by the golden visage in the sky again, though for less time this time. She has no idea, at this point, that Power Pig is suffering from a status effect; after all, there are reliable reports of talking ducks, Gargoyles, and whatever it is Stitch is coming in from SeeD recon parties. A pig fighting a duck? That's just the end of the week.

She folds her arms in front of her. Her head turns away...

... and then snaps back. Her glasses sparkle incandescently as she forces out a breath, the first and in some ways most reliable of her Blue Magic abilities arcing out as a sheer ray of blue-tinted hatred at the back of Negaduck's ride. "I'm not going to let you do this!" she says, following it up by sweeping her whip around with a sudden crack towards a projection on Negaduck's ride, sweeping upwards to try and land in the back, whatever form that back may take.

Either way, his windshield gets a second volley of sheer cruel woman-glare.

Scarmiglione has posed:
"You don't know." Milon seethes, his hot breath seeping out right up in Will's bidness. "Khh." How disappointing. Something interesting like that, and it's in the hands of a dumb hobo who doesn't know the first thing about it.

"Maybe I can...convince you to remember." Something about the tone suggests that it would not be a pleasant experience, but thankfully Will doesn't really have to worry about it just yet because he's busy introducing his foot to Milon's suddenly shrinking chest cavity. "Ghh! Ghh! Ghh! Gaaah!" And the hits just keep coming, as after he is ignobly flipped like a flapjack, Scarm finds himself blindsided by some interfering jerk.

Pushing himself up to his feet, powered by nothing but hatred, he stares at his new opponent. "So be it, then." He clutches his fist, and dark power seeps out along the ground toward both Will and Ward, The W-Team, pooling at their feet. And then the earth erupts upward into twin spikes of rock, each pitch black with evil energy that drains away at their very life force.

Synestria has posed:
Taking a deep breath at Rubicante's words, Synestria bows her head. However, she then looks over her shoulder, then back to Rubicante. "You will forgive me if i do not. Thissssss issss for your earssss to hear. There are otherssssss that control the heartlessssss, not jussssst your lord. However, whether or not you are lisssstening, I mussssst ssssstill put on a good show for your lord, for a warrior'sssss defeat, not death." She then hisses quite loudly at Rubicante, but the results of the hiss don't come from in front of Rubicante, but from behind.....as a trio of comets streak towards the fire fiend's back.....

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward is knocked up into the air and looks down at scarmiglione ward grabbed and smashed into scarmiglione and then stepped back throwing his harpoon into the air and jumping on top of it coming down at scarmiglione before hoping off of it and backing off.

Will Sherman has posed:
The ground errupts in spikes...

Will can't evade, the pain is unquestionably agonizing as finally, he stumbles, falling down and hitting the ground face first. His wounds starting to bleed out despite wanting to keep fighting...today was not his day.

Deidra has posed:
Deidra is forced to use everything she's learned about how to fly as the Fiend of Wind has just pushed her to the edge with that hellish storm of magic a few seconds ago. She's danced fairly well all thigns considered but her spells this time do manage to connect a she looks right at her there's a bit of a smirk on her face as she does so as the Gargyole seems to have realised something.

"It seems you don't like to be touched humm how about we try this!"

She lets lose another torrent of ice at the flying firned of wind before she backs off still trying to recover from that last stunt.

Rubicante has posed:
Rubicante's first reaction to the comets is when they hit him, and he more or less explodes into gore.

The first one strikes his left shoulder, tears through the cloak, and rips his entire arm off; the cloak is torn open, and the limb flies out from it, dissolving into sparks as it flies through the air.

The second and third punch through Rubicante's torso, tearing holes in the Fiend's chest, each the size of a large dog.

He, of course, shows no outwards reaction of pain, or fear; he barely even seems to notice, save for one particular aspect of the attack.

"An attack from behind," Rubicante says slowly, shaking his head. "How untoward. I ought quit this duel, in shame for you."

"But," he continues, "I will allow you to continue your insistence for a moment longer. I am not yet needed elsewhere."

Rubicante's cloak, torn apart by the comets, lifts into the air again, and the Fiend lifts his remaining arm towards Synestria again. Once again, the air around her erupts into flames; an instant later, another tower of flame erupts from beneath her, and an instant after /that/--

-- the temperature suddenly pulls a wicked 180, and it gets deathly cold, ice forming across Synestria's flesh and scales? What?

Negaduck has posed:
"BWAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

'Darkwing Duck' is pushing his webbed foot on the gas pedal, trying to give the large vehicle more juice. He cackles, leaning back against the seat.

As the jetpack powered Power Pig collide against the monster truck, the two are locked into what is an epic battle of one vehicle pushing the other. The wheels rev harder and faster as he seeks to run the pig over.

"HA! DO YOU THINK YOU CAN STAND THE MIGHT OF NE---...errr.. DARKWING DUCK, POWER PIG?!" He almost slipped out his identity, but he will not make that same mistake.

Annnd suddenly, Negaduck faces the horrible sight of the a scorned woman's stare as well as the volley of laser eyes. "GAHHH!!" The eyes are caught through the windshield. He shields his eyes, "ANGRY WOMAN STARE! ANGRY WOMAN STARE!"

An eye re-opens as a sharp teeth-filled grin forms, "...I like 'em angry."

However, Negaduck will not like this. The engin suddenly stops from the crack of the whip striking the engine. This forces the vehicle to lose momentum.

"WHAT?! I JUST GOT THIS, YOU---..."

This gives Power Pig the chance she needs to take the massive monster truck into the air. "Wh---at?!" And the monster truck is soaring towards the ground, with Negaduck inside of it.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!"

A resounding crunch echoes in the air as the vehicle crumples as a heap.Emerging out, 'Darkwing Duck' flips out and he grits his teeth, "You may have ruined my plans to create an angsty kid with a scarred backstory, but you have not seen the last of me!" Whipping out a pair of bombs, he starts juggling them in his hand. As he juggles, 'Darkwing Duck' smiles and he says, "Now you both try!"

He chucks about 10 bombs towards Quistis and Power Pig. Five are flying towards Quistis and the other five are heading towards Power Pig. "LET'S SEE YOU JUGGLE THAT! MAYBE THE CIRCUS WILL BE HIRING!!" And Negaduck is attempting to flee.

Scarmiglione has posed:
Yeah, that's the good stuff. It warms Milon's cold black heart to see Will finally (FINALLY) fall. For a mere hobo, he was made of pretty tough stuff. The glow of victory is rather short-lived, however, as Ward promptly decides to go completely nuts on him, violating both his personal space and his strict 'don't get impaled by a harpoon' policy.

"Guh!" He hits the ground hard, hissing in and out as he tries to catch his breath. "Fool...you'll soon come to wish you hadn't meddled." Regardless of his SINISTER THREATS, it still takes him a moment to follow through, with a simple (tainted) bolt of lightning, connecting heaven and earth and Ward's delightfully conductive body.

Jean Faraven has posed:
There is the visceral satisfaction of landing a square blow on the enemy as Anubis strikes true, but Jean is seasoned enough to know it's the last hit that counts, not the first. His hips pivot as his momentum carries him past Baigan's flank, ducking low beneath a swinging snake-arm, heels digging into the ground with canine tenacity as they now slid backwards. A lone eye gauged Baron's Captain in truth, and what Jean saw prompted him to freeze as if struck by a jolt of electricity. "What..?!" His eye widened, and the world seemed to distort and disassemble leaving only the memory of that serpentine gaze, "You're..."

It suddenly felt very cold. Jean was aware he was rising fast, flying up the face of a large embankment-a wall-seemingly constructed of ice. Anubis was snug in his hand, and a familiar silhouette suddenly rose over the limn of the wall's edge, beckoning.

"We meet at last, SeeD! Baron's glory shall be built on your corpsessss!"

A town, snowy and remote and filled with quiet dread. A team. A world in peril.

A girl, a student. The best. A massive cannon pointed at the well, restrained only by her force of will.

"I'm taking it down, sir!"

"Cadet Cross, wait!!!"

'You kept me waiting.'

"What?!" Jean snapped back into the here and now. It couldn't been more than a heartbeat, but it had been enough for Baigan to get past his guard. The entire queer, inexplicable lapse was forgotten before the reality of snakehead sinking it's fangs into his arm, burning venom coursing through his blood. "Tch..." Jean sneered, willing Cerberus to counteract the poison's flow as he casually flexed his wrist and sent the hilt of Anubis into his free hand, revealing his other hidden skill: Ambidexterity.

"As we suspected.." Glances of battle picked out Rubicant and Scarmiglione in addition to the well-known Barbariccia, "You all come as part of a set." But water...where was water?!

No matter, Anubis snapped down at the offending arm's 'neck', feet already moving in anticipation of being released. "Tell whoevere's fighting Barbariccia not to keep that fight in the air!" He snaps to Quistis over the comm, "That's /her/ territory!" Baigan will quickly find himself under a furious assault of quick swipes and slices punctuated by the powerful bursts the saw a solid steel casing eject from the Anubis's chamber, "But that doesn't explain what you are!" Snake is not an element!

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward was hit again and came down to the ground. He then swung his anchor at scarmiglione as hard as he could. Hoping this would end the beast. He also slammed into it after the hit.

Barbariccia has posed:
Less success this time than last time, for the gargoyle tangling with the fiend of wind. The deck crew on the airship quietly filter towards the door, realizing that something awful is likely about to happen to their ride. But perhaps Baigan has cheaped out on parachutes, the miser he is, and they're all screwed anyway.

None can tell, but here's what we /do/ know: Barbariccia's lightning-aura drinks those incoming magic missiles like a fat kid with a cake-flavoured milkshake, and her command over air traces them back to the source and creates a zone of total silence and stillness around the aerial creature.

"No. No, let's not try that! Ugh, I'm /so/ sick of this!" complains the fiend, the deck of the airship shaking beneath her feet. It's not nearly as dramatic as it sounds.

Bright blades of brilliant green air pressure whip into existence where once there was nothing, and the sky itself seems to try and scythe apart Deidra with brutal force. Inwardly, there's a small part of Barbariccia that remains calm enough to hope that, whatever Baigan's plan is, that it's going to work sometime soon.

And then, she just scowls forever because Jean Faraven appears. Like a fart in an elevator, he never goes away.

Synestria has posed:
Rather than countering the assault with ice or fire, she covers herself in a tornado. It drives off most of the attack, but some of it gets through. It still burns and is cold, but Synestria keeps silent now.....except for another hiss at Rubicante.....bringing another icy attack to Rubicante, knowing ice's effect upon fire.

Baigan has posed:
Baigan indeed had a very complex plan for seizing the Dias Plains, and it was all drawn out on maps and there were charts and diagrams and spreadsheets--

"Gaaagghhhh!!"

--but unfortunately, it did not include being showered with bullets in the middle of the battlefield, or getting hacked in the back by the Hound of Balamb, so Lady Barbariccia's hopes may be dashed on that count.

Mercade's circling assault launches the snakeman into the air, and as he ascends he cannot help but lower his guard, opening him to Jean's relentless combination of attacks, which tear scales from Baigan's monstrous flesh. "Fooool!" he howls as he soars into the air. "I am the incarnation of Baron's will! With the giftssss of Hisss Majesssty, I shall crush all my kingdom'ss foess! You are the one the reportssss called the Hound of Balamb, yesss!? You--"

Baigan's lidless eyes widen slightly.

"Hound of... Balamb?"

A dark-skinned woman with an enormous axe, shouting furiously as she leaps down from the wall. Snow, collapsing, burying him in ice cold. All for Baron. It was all for-- but where? When was that battle? That--

"Accurssed darknessss," he hisses as he slowly descends. "This fusssion of worldsss has muddled my mind..."

"Don't know what you're talking about, Boss!"

"SHUT UP!!" he screams, shaking the strange memories off as he lashes down at Mercade and Jean, if only to get these damned talking snake arms away from him. "Aaaargghhhh!" The sheer force of his rage aims to drive both men to the ground, fangs sinking into them, jaws crushing their bodies.

Rubicante has posed:
The first two spears of ice carve into Rubicante's flesh again... but before the third can hit, he suddenly whips his cloak around him. It strikes the fabric, and then vanishes into it, as if it - and Rubicante - weren't there at all.

In its wake, Rubicante stands a little taller; the cloak parts again, and... apparently he has two arms again?

"Enough," he declares, voice heavy with finality. "If you have naught more to say, then my time is wasted here. You may have these fields; in time, the flames will claim this place, and all that dwell upon it, as well."

And then another whirlwind of flames springs up around him, obscuring him entirely; an instant later, it vanishes, and he is gone.

Quistis Trepe has posed:

"Was he about to say something racist?" Quistis wonders to herself, even as she ends up looking into the back of Negaduck's rise. The car crashes just at the same time that bombs get thrown at QUistis. Between the burst and the car crash, Quistis Trepe finds herself not severely affected... But definitely toppling up in the air.

Quite a ways, really.

"You! I wondered what smelled like tuna salad," Quistis says as she sails past Barbariccia, and then right back downwards she sailed.

She curls her whip around one arm, pressing one hand to her forehead as she looks for where would be the right place to land. Doing the math in her head is hard, but there's another haystack there - how can she get there, though? Ah yes, she thinks, even as another ripple of blue magic rises within her body. The taste of primed explosive and rocket fuel comes to her mouth like an unsavory tang...

"Power Pig, look out!" Quistis shouts. The barrage of sudden missile fire out of /goddamn nowhere/ may show Negaduck whether or not he can dish out what he's taking, or words to that effect anyway. Quistis is thrown off by the launch mechanism, tumbling over to land in that haystack and levering herself partway upwards, groaning for a moment -

And then putting her tongue to the roof of her mouth and sending a sudden bubbling burst of high pressure water arcing for Negaduck.

Foolish of her, really... using water on a duck.

Scarmiglione has posed:
It's like the old saying goes: 'Harpoon me once, shame on you. Harpoon me twice, shame on me.' For once, Milon does /not/ get completely wrecked when attacked, thanks to the best defense. No, it's not a good offense, it's 'put zombies in the way until you're safe'. So while Ward does get the opportunity to completely wreck face, it's the faceless faces of a small zombie horde.

"It's your turn, next. Just...diiiiiiie~o/~" Milon's voice turns alarmingly falsetto, alarming to nobody moreso than him as dark energies coalesce. A deep voice booms out of nowhere, and Milon looks about with worry.

THOUGH YOU FIGHT TO STAY ALIVE
YOUR BODY STARTS TO SHIVER
FOR NO MERE MORTAL CAN RESIST
THE EVIL OF THE THRILLER

A dozen zombies burst out of the ground at once in militarily precise formation, dirt spraying everywhere. The one in front wears red leather--and then they advance, grooving and jiving their way up into Ward's business.

Milon appears dumbstruck.

Synestria has posed:
Sighing softly as Rubicante disappears, Synestria takes a few moments to compose herself, and turn her attention towards the battle while she rests......

Ward Zabac has posed:
Ward was hit hard it knocked him flat on his back. He let out a sigh, he had given it his all but was suddenly unable to move. He felt sleepy, and started to nap.

Deidra has posed:
Deidra isn't sure how much more she can take her body can take a lot of punnishment but there's only so much a Gargyole can take for int he end they are mortal after all. She does however manage to not fall to the incoming attacks. the skies turn on her but even as she's cut up, her clothing ripped up she's managed to keep in the air a bit longer. She's got her tomb again in hand and she now hovers as she's chating something, she's clearly chanting something and about to unload heverything she has a pillar of massive light seems to come from on high in an attempt to burn the fiened of wind from the skies which is rapidly followed up by the wind and more ice.

She doesn't have much left and she knows it.

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
Are those zombies holy shit. Why is that one dressed in red? Actually she can pretty easily tell why--it's clearly the commander zombie AND goes faster than normal zombies. "Be careful! That's a fast zombie!" She shouts. It probably doesn't help.

Sarafina, due to the rules of cartoon logic and because it's hard to hear clearly when you're using a jetpack while facing down a monster death vehicle with doom teeth, does not hear Negaduck's near slip.

Power Pig pulls back. Darkwing Duck is pretty honest about his motivations. In a way, Sarafina can't help but be a bit proud of the guy. Of course the rest of her recognizes that he was about to kill people for, as Sarafina would not put it, the lulz.

AND THEN BOMBS!

Sarafina jets back and away from the flying bombs If that family was silly enough to stick around, she'll practically pull them away as she escapes. She has no idea the radius of those bombs but she knows explosives when she sees them.

And then she pauses. How the heck... How the heck is he getting all that stuff? He's like a duck. He's not even wearing pants.

Her left eye twitches as Quistis calls her Power Pig.

She has no Jetpack but this doesn't mean that she can't jet pack towards Negaduck, intending to slam him twice with her FEET before throwing a punch with the POWER GAUNTLET.

If it hits, Negaduck's bill may spin around his head for at least three revolutions.

But look on the bright side, Negaduck. You did still destroy her home so maybe she'll be--half angsty?

Barbariccia has posed:
Barbariccia's fiend-gaydar pings once as Rubicante's retreat from the battlefield means that she no longer feels the gentle licking of flames at the back of her mind, and no longer finds herself thinking about occasionally burning everything. "Mmm, so the Autarch has retreated..." she muses to herself as the storm and the war rages around her, stroking her chin.

"Troublesome." the towering blonde looks towards the spot where she could last feel the big, muscle-wizard's presence. "But ... we're not yet done, u~fufufufufu!"

This bout of mirthful laughter is given total pause by Quistis Trepe's drive-by insinuation that Barbariccia's choice of perfume is weak as hell. Or perhaps that her grooming habits are in need of a fix.

She narrows her eyes and makes a noise curiously close to 'Pfft, huh.' except all in one syllable. A tiny cartoony lightning bolt stabs into the instructor's butt, in revenge.

The winds are under Barbariccia's command, even those whipped to a frenzy by the gargoyle. They simply grow still as they draw near, and the brutal fusilade of icicles carried on them simply fall from the sky, no longer carried on anything at all. "Don't take me so lightly! For mine isn't just a pretty face," she taunts, disappearing in a golden burst of lightning. The pillar of light smashes into the airship. Oh, god, is Deidra now a murderer? Will it be lost with all hands?

No, it probably just lists to one side while everyone rolls around like a bad episode of Classic Trek, and the Archfiend of Wind reappears in a burst behind Deidre and raises one hand.

What comes down is terrifying...!

Actually, it's just a stone-cold brutal bitchslap.

Mercade Alexander has posed:
Mercade grits his teeth. "God, you're impenetrable. Do you even see what you did to yourself? You were kind of stylish before with the whole noble warrior gig, but now? Now you're just a slimy... thing." Mercade's not too eloquent right now, especially with how the snake finally lands a solid strike. The impact crushes Mercade into the ground, the fangs sinking into him and drawing away his lifeblood to feed the ravenous beast of Baron. "You... ggghhh." Mercade grunts, heavily pained and wounded from the sudden assault. His arms are pinned, unable to do anything about it....

And then his grasping hand reaches the stock of his shotgun. With a yell, he clamps his legs up around the snake, jamming the barrel up into the maw. "I HEAR LEAD IS GOOD FOR CREATURES OF DARKNESS!" Mercade yells, before pulling the trigger.

The blast knocks him free, sending him tumbling to the ground. He spins, flipping the shotgun high into the air as he grabs up his pistols. He yells, unloading a brutal barrage of bullets as he leaps upwards, planting his feet into Baigan and launching farther up as the snakes whip past. "YOUR ADVANCE ENDS HERE!" He calls, emptying his clips as he drives Baigan towards the ground. He casts the smoking, empty pistols aside as he reaches out, spinning and racking the pump-action on the shotgun, pointing it down at the powerful being of darkness. "I AM TIRED..."
BLAM!
"OF THESE MOTHERFLAGGING..."
BLAM!
"SNAKES!"
BLAM! "ON THESE PLAINS!"
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Negaduck has posed:
Negaduck is fleeing. That's right. He is bravely fleeing the scene. He is not going to be defeated by those dorks. Both hands are leading the way as he runs of, not even looking back.

He turns his head around.

"GUH!!!!!"

Missiles are flying towards Negaduck. Not only that, but bubbles of high pressured water is chasing after Negaduck. Negaduck runs as fast and fast as he can.

And he gets away from the missiles by the sheer distance. "HA!"

And then... here comes Power Pig wit two feet and punch.

POW! Negaduck is kicked in the face.

CRACK! The other kick nails against the stomach, forcing him to keel over.

WHAM! Negaduck is sent sprawling back to a distance...

Right towards the missile and the bubbles.

"Uh oh..."

KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!!!

'Darkwing Duck' is flying sky high from the explosion and is all wet at the same time. It looks like he is going off into space.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

*Ding!*

Negaduck has posed:
While Mercade continues to shoot with his shotgun. There is a note slowly descending from the sky where Negaduck launched straight into.

The note is actually has something attached to it. Should Mercade notice it...

It'll have a model of a bike.

The note attached to it says, 'This is much as you'll get. By the way, this belonged to a 10 year old, so I hope you're proud of yourself. Loser.

Hate You Forever,
- Darkwing Duck'

Jean Faraven has posed:
"And you must be Baigan.." Jean's good eye squinted, "The Baronian Serpent!" Sure, Jean had only seen pictures of the Captain's human form, but with a nom de guerre like that it wasn't very difficult to put two and two together. This man...thing whatever he was, and the fiends the accompanied him...somehow it was a relief to know they were there. After so much uncertainty, Jean Faraven finally knew what it was they must do beyond hold an endless wall against encroaching Heartless.

At long last, the enemy had appeared.

The bestial strength of Baigan is not to be underestimated and Jean gets close, personal taste of it when the length of one of those snake-arms slams full into the Hound, pinning him to the ground as fangs seek into the meaty flesh of his shoulder. Suddenly winded, Jean gasped for air as he tried to push those powerful jaws back with junctioned strength, maintaining his steely battlefield calm all the while and speaking through choked breaths, "Got...a...message..for...your masters..."

Jean's body suddenly took on the properties of an electric eel, an aura of electricity surging off his body in defensive measure to loosen the serpent's grip. Personalized thunder spells: another secret technique of SeeD.

"I want you to go back and tell them..!" Jean crouched low, blue tendrils of ionized force peeling off him, emptying and focusing along the Anubis's keen, dark edge. The distance was closed, but he didn't need more than a few feet to achieve the massive acceleration acquired.

He just needed to draw on Cerberus fully for a few moments!

"The Dias Plains..." He felt his body stiffen and course with feral power, still a jolt no matter how many times he did it. The three-headed hellbeast did not cotton to such invocation easily. Jean felt it in him-the bloodlust, the fury, the minute lenghtening of his canines, right eye flickering between gray and yellow.

"Is under SeeD protection!"

Legs shot forward with explosive power, the scented air turning an ominous portent of ozone and burning flesh as Anubis swung up with a crash of thunder and burse of searing light, pouring ever ounce of extent energy into a ridiculously pumped-up spell launched with the pull of a trigger.

Everything is weak to lightning.

Deidra has posed:
Deidra isn't doing so well she's really not doing so well the Gargyole doesn't have much left in her at this point and she darn well knows it. She's about to just say to hell with heverthing and just try to get in close with the Fiend of Air. She wtches Quistis pass by and her coment? Scores the SEED some points with the Gargyole. She likes that blonde lady's style for sure. Teh winds just well? Slap her with more force than she could realises, The Gargyole's eyes turn red and she just says nothing as she leaps at the feiend intend to rip her apart.

Quistis Trepe has posed:

Quistis emerges from the haystack shortly afterwards.

Wiping off her forehead and shaking off some straw, she seems to be limping slightly. She keeps herself deliberately facing forwards, because she can feel that singe mark on the backside of her fighting outfit quite well. "Thank you for your efforts, ma'am, but I don't think -" A glance upwards, "we're quite done here..."

Barbariccia has posed:
It is with lazy, dancelike swag that Barbariccia sways to one side in the air, the gargoyle's strikes catching nothing but faint, hazy afterimages left by her burning gold aura. "Ah, ah, ah, don't touch what you can't afford!" the fiend teases, darting inbetween each punch and claw like a prize fighter.

"But I'll be happy to take you on if you want to brush that hair and work on your image a little~. . ."

Because it sounds fantastic to me, the gigantic floating nun puts a hand to her mouth and giggles. Except every note is like being punched in the face repeatedly, an omnidirectional shockwave of raw bitchiness pounding at Deidra at point-blank range! I--infight? Cross counter!?

Baigan has posed:
"SssseeD...!?"

This name too is somehow familiar. Baigan hisses as he aims to crush Jean into the ground, twisting his fanged arm around. Could it have been mentioned in one of the intelligence reports on the mercenary groups that Baron would be facing? It must have been. Yet what is this strange sensation, as though he has met this man before, as though this is not the first time he has fought this battle, as though there is lightning coursing up his arm--

Oh.

"Gaahhh!"

Releasing the Hound of Balamb and rearing back, the Vanguard of Baron cries out in his twisted voice as he raises up the redoubtable Snakesuation and Sir Scraggletooth once again, defending himself with their thick curse-enhanced scales, the sorcery of the Fiends having endowned him with inestimable resilience. "Grrgghhh--!" Jean's thunderous crash smashes against the monstrous man's hide.

"Gaha..."

And yet.

"Gaaahh ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Baigan remains standing.

"You fooooool!" he howls. "The will of Baron is almighty! I am itssss champion, itssss incarnation. I am... I am INVINCIBLE! Aha! Aaaah ha hahahaha--"

Green blood sprays.

"Guuoooohhhh!!?"

Bullet after bullet tears through Baigan's back, unprotected by his mighty arms. He chokes and staggers, defenseless as Mercade's fury rains down upon him, driving the hulking giant to his scaly knees, his body spasming. "Noo... noooo! Y... Your Majesssty...!"

"Hang in there, Boss!" The Snakesuation is shouting.

"Captain, you must rise!" Sir Scraggletooth's monocle is askew.

Their magics begin to pour over him, restoring his defenses, as Baigan struggles to rise. "Yesss... I musst... musst not... be defeated...!"

Scarmiglione has posed:
Another one bites the dust, buried under a mound of synchronized zombie dancers. The terror. The terror. Mostly on Milon's part, still unsure what just happened. Did his magics...go out of control? Was there some strange influence on him? Mysteries continue to abound on this day.

But without anyone immediately opposing him, nobody to focus on, Milon's attention is finally given freedom to wander the battlefield. It...well, frankly, it doesn't really look good. With Rubicante gone, Barbariccia flirting with some ugly flying chick, and Baigan proving as effective as anyone with half a brain would expect...Truly, it is up to Scarmiglione to save the day.

/Crap/.

Shuffling as fast as he can (not very) back toward the Guard Captain, Scarm opts to pull out his usual bag of tricks: since he himself can't quite reach very quickly (nor does he really want to), he summons a proxy. The proxy is a zombie and good god he is /filthy/ and jumping right up onto Jean's backside.

"Is this all you can manage, Baigan?" Milon continues closing in, calling out to his ally. "Is--wait, what happened to your armsss?"

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
"Oink." Sarafina looks to Quistis. "OINK OINK OINK OINK OINK OINK!" She waggles her pig arms up and down repeatedly. "OINK!"
Translation: Esuna Esuna Esuna Esuna Esuna
She gets distracted moments as she looks towards Jean and Baigan fighting. She turns her head and wiggles her snout, and looks at Baigan.
AND HIS SNAKE ARMS.
HEr piggy face is inscrutable.

"Ghnnn...oink."

Deidra has posed:
Deidra is still attempting to catch that smug woman in her talens and make her not so pretty. "Can't afford I thought you were the sort who did it for free." She doesn't go into detail on this she's not got much left in her but she's not about fallen just yet, but it seems to be just about over as she attempts to punch the friend once more but she's not got much left it's clear.

Mercade Alexander has posed:
Mercade stands, racking the shotgun and expelling a spent shell across the battlefield as smoke rises from the barrel. He stares, hard-eyes, over the rifled steel as he hangs the gun off his side, and picks up his fallen guns. As Baigan flails, panicking, he methotically reloads his pistols, sliding in a pair of new clips. "Baron has overstayed its welcome." Mercade says, leveling the guns. "Come again another time. We'll have cake. And death. You like that, right?"

BULLETS.

Quistis Trepe has posed:

"Do you want... a potato? What? I don't have any food on me, Power Pig," Quistis tells Sarafina. "Can you, uh... Write it on the ground? Or draw a picture -?"

Meanwhile, the two SCOs fire guns randomly at stray Heartless. Overwatch, b'es

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
Sarafina is quiet for a moment before she picks up a block of charred wood and digs into the ground. Eventually writing:

OINK

Sarafina stares at what she wrote, shakes her head quickly, and this time writes

ESUNA.

Barbariccia has posed:
"Free? /Free/? Do I look like a--ugh!"

Barbariccia gets a big frowny face and one of those big #'s throbbing on her forehead, and proceeds to sway backwards with legs dangling so she can haymaker the gargoyle right in the breadbasket. Doesn't even cop a feel. Damn, someone's mad. "You're a hundred years too early to meddle in Lord Golbez's plan, whelp. Now--fall!"

Deidra gets Dragon Ball Z'ed into the ground (maybe) with one of those double-fisted hammer things, and then Moe Nun Sorcerer Barbariccia Uguu folds her arms and huffs unhappily, charm sparkling at the camera. "The /nerve/ of that girl!"

Jesus, you're not fooling anyone.

Deidra has posed:
Deidra would say yes you look like some sort of ... thing that's not best talked about here. She doesn't get to finish saying a thing as Deidra is just slamed into the grounf, she slams into the groun hard leaving a crater and the Gargyole girl just isn't moving now...she's pretty much out of it.

Jean Faraven has posed:
Baigan takes one of Jean's strongest hits-not /the/ strongest, but close!-and manages to still be standing before Mercade's helpful storm of bullets bring him to his knees. Even then, he's rising back on some indomitable will, some insatiable lust for conquest. The zeal of loyalist, of nationalism so bright it allowed nothing else to be seen. Jean Faraven knew this mentality well, but he merely hangs back and observes as Baigan psyched himself back up.

"Hmph." The Hound of Balamb cricked his head an inch, wishing he had a cigar to roll around in his mouth, "You're pretty good." It was a grudging sort of thing to admit, but there it was might. With the slow intention of a man fingering the big red button, he reached for the elastic band of his eyepatch, "Wasn't planning on it, but it might be time to use th-"

And then Milon's stupid zombie was all /up/ in his grill, tackling Jean from behind and gnawing at his poor bedeviled shoulder with the ravenous hunger of the undead. "Damn!" Layers of kevlar and interweaved steal mesh keep the zombie from tasting any blood, but the sheer pressure of the bites surely cause their share of unpleasant bruising, re-awakening the stabbing pain of snakebites and the poison there in. "Trepe, I need mop-up over here!" A brusque shove ends with with a decapitating swipe the the undead's head, leaving Jean filthier for the trouble and advancing back on Baigan, slamming a self-injecting syring marked 'HI-POTION' into his thigh to send his body's already-enhanced healing properties into overdrive.

Anubis then comes flying in a wind-empowered whirling spin as Jean threw it like a boomerang, racing in to try and nail Baigan with a swift kick to the chin and disorient him before he can espy the truth of the maneuever. One hand clasps on Anubis's curved hilt as it returns to his hand, but Jean does not bring it to bear against the serpent.

Instead it's his other hand, having snatched his sidearm from the Hound's hip as he moved, trying to jut the end of pistol right up against the creature's chin before pulling the trigger.

PG-13

Quistis Trepe has posed:

"Oh! Damn, I don't have that one stocked - hold on," Quistis says, digging in her hip pack. Out comes a remedy, which she uncorks and carefully sets on the ground, stepping back a pace. "Uh - the container's rice plastic, so... you can just eat it if you need to." The stopper was foil, of course, for maximum freshness.

Quistis then looks up... and narrow her eyes at a familiar target.

Narrows her eyes?

Hold on.

ZARK!!

"I can't believe that woman came out here," Quistis complains to Sarafina.

Synestria has posed:
Synestria remains upon the sidelines for the most part, but watches the battle between the remaining fiends and the SeeDs. She does see one familiar dark Knight unconcious upon the ground and slowly makes her way for him.

Baigan has posed:
Baigan, talented administrator and cunning tactician--

"GRRAAAAAAHHH!"

--flails about in a berserk fury.

Bullets tear into his flank, and the Snakesuation lashes out to dig its fangs at Mercade for his troubles, stopping only once Jean's kick snaps into Baigan's oversized, misshapen head and sending the giant serpent-man staggering again. Mid-roar, Baigan's unblinking eyes widen as he sees the gun whipping into place beneath his chin.

"Noooooo--"

With, er, snake-like reflexes, the Baronian Serpent snaps his head to the side, the bullet carving a narrow path up the side of his scaly face, even as he lashes out fruitlessly with Sir Scraggletooth, who does not take to being used so haplessly. "Curssse you! Curssse you all!!" He is beyond noticing Scarmiglione's taunts, or, indeed, the fate of his own army, which continues to struggle desperately, casualties littering the battlefield on both sides. "In the name of Hissss Majesssty, I ssshall crusssh you--"

Both snake arms wail as they are, once again, sent lashing out toward Mercade and Jean again at a breakneck -- no, literally, it might break your neck -- speed.

"FOR BARON!!"

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
...Stocked?

Well whatever. Sarafina can use items still IT IS HOW THE MECHANICS WORK EVEN WITH STUBBY PIG ARMS. She pops it open and downs it all in one gulp--she is a pig presently after all.

AND THEN BOMF.

"I /hate/ Mysidia." Sarafina says, glancing to Quistis. "I look a lot like a pig, huh?"

She slings the chainsaw--which apparently polymorphed along with the rest of her, over her shoulder and looks towards Barbariccia. "Even I could not anticipate that it had gone so far. Even noble Baigan, who hunted corruption and crime within the city like none other."

She approaches Baigan--not YET seeing SYnestria approach Kaydin. But in a moment it'll be in her peripheral vision.

"Baigan...." She growls. "To think... to think it has come to this. Is everyone a monster now? Has Baron become a Kingdom of Fiends and Monsters?"

Barbariccia has posed:
The airships continue doing the devil's work, except for that one that got gargoyle-biimu'd right in the face. That one has a big hole in the deck and hull and is creeping back towards Baron, leaking party streamers and wine casks the whole way. Barbariccia frowns and rubs her chin again, wondering what the tactical ramifications of this development is.

The answer is that striking familiar eye-lasers hit her in the butt. The right cheek, actually.

"Giku! Who--that--!" she scowls and turns around, now in possession of a Smoking Butt. Somewhere far below, in the blurry part of her peripheral vision, Baigan literally explodes like some kind of snakey grenade. The two blondes narrow their eyes at each other. "That Seed /girl/..."

That spot where Quistis got zapped in the butt--WHAT IS IT WITH ALL THE BUTT STUFF--earlier throbs once. This is the true nature of Barbariccia's attack.

Oh, wait, no it isn't, it's the oncoming wave of distorted air-pressure sporting the thorny nest of lightning bolts at the speak, like a thrown spear. That's the true nature. Yes, that makes a lot more sense.

Scarmiglione has posed:
On the plus side, Operation: Bite Jean In Butt has worked flawlessly. Downside, Baigan is ignoring Milon. Well, 'ignoring'. 'Going berserk to the point where he doesn't understand what words are', more like. And as tempting as it is to just leave him out to dry, at this point it's a matter of the pride which Milon does not actually possess. Mostly he just wants to outlast Barbariccia and rub it in her face later.

So he continues to aid Baigan, even though they're going to have to have /words/ later. Very stern, angry words. But for now, well. The undead will continue their inexorable assault upon the forces of good (pretty much just Mercade). Scarm throws in bit of quicksand, too, just to hedge his bets.

Quistis Trepe has posed:

> REMEDY

Quistis boggles at Sarafina.

"... Well," she says, "in my defense, you /were/ a pig at the time...?"

She adjusts her glasses. The air feels stuffy, tense, electrified. Quistis assumes, foolishly, it's her embarrassment as the gargoyle (yes, Quistis still hasn't met an actual one) woman turns to face Baigan. "... I'm sorry, Captain Carenze. We'll do what... what we..."

She bites her lip for a moment. Her bottom is aching. Then suddenly, a huge burst of lightning bolts smash downwards!!

Unfortunately, Quistis is not touching anything else, and the only ground point for her current stance would be through her feet. Her boots have rubber soles. Which means that instead it grounds itself NEAR her, meaning she is struck with a sudden clap of immense thunder.

Which knocks her over onto her back. "G, guh," she says, twitching for a moment, even as she struggles out a stocked piece of paramagic. Ice lances upwards at Barbariccia, once, twice, three times an ice strike upwards as Quistis struggles back to her feet, still twitching slightly. "What... what's this PRESSURE?!"

Mercade Alexander has posed:
DAT ARM.

"Are you even fighting for Baron anymore?" Mercade says, leaping forward into the snake arms. As they wash past him, he twists, the hissing, poisonous fangs leaving smoking cuts on the leather. "I thought your king was supposed to be some wise and just guy. What's the point of all this? And the goddamn Heartless? What's up with that?"

The Detective levels his guns, unleashing yet another barrage of bullets. Maybe this one will finally leave their mark in the weakened snakeman.

Mercade Alexander has posed:
As he passes Baigan, he is assaulted by a horde of ZOMBEHS. Or ZMOBIES. Or ZOOMBEES. Whatever. "ACH! WHO GOT THE NECROMANCER?" Mercade yells, panicking as he scrambles backwards, trying to keep his distance from the skeletal evil insects and corpse assault!

Barbariccia has posed:
"That's air pressure, you dolt!" lectures Barbariccia, sporting a pair of sexy librarian glasses for exactly the two seconds required to inform Quistis what's going on. That poor blue Baronian habit is looking a little worse for wear as the Instructor Lady just kinda leans on the Cold Stuff button. The archfiend doesn't seem to slow, precisely, as sharp blades of ice coalesce from moisture in the air and stab home.

Probably because her entire body is really made of Fantasy Air, or something.

"Ugh, who invited /you/, anyway?" she scoffs, now hovering only mere feet above the ground with that improbable ready-for-action pose, hair billowing dramatically. "Shouldn't you be... I don't know, teaching? Getting busy in the medical quarter?"

Somewhere in the background, again, a horde of zombies wearing faces like 8D and :3 and B| clamber all over Mercade Alexander like the most adorably retarded bunch of undead possible, but the camera focuses on Barbariccia's face.

"So, you're trying to meddle in Lord Golbez's plans as well? What a big mistake..."

Hovering like a hella real-talk four feet away from Quistis like some kind of Aerial Jesus, she subjects the whip-slashing, butt-zapping instructor to another unfair bout of dominating behaviour. In this instance, Barbariccia fashions a whip in one hand out of condensed moisture, looks at it approvingly, and then tries to give poor Ms. Trepe a misty lashing.

No, Barbariccia, the real big mistake here is you ignoring Baigan getting double-d-dumpstered while you chase girls.

Jean Faraven has posed:
A tense showdown of coiled muscles and honed reflexes ensues between the Hound of Balamb and the Champion of Baron. Baigan manages to snake (lol) his head out of that hungry bullet's path, and Jean is just as quick to duck beneath his angry reprisal, jumping back and just barely side-stepping what would've been a brutal blow as the head of Snagglesworth shoots past him with all the force of an oncoming freight train.

"Baron." Jean mutters, glancing back towards Sarafina, "I've heard a thing or two about Baron. Namely, that you've found some way to bend the Heartless to your beck and call." A niggling thought dared to think if they might be entirely behind the frequent attacks on Garden, but he couldn't afford to speculate right now. He fixed his single-eyed gaze back on Baigan, "That makes you a top-priority thread as far as i'm concerned." Springing forward, he rushed within the snake-man's guard before he could recoils his arms, "Congratulations on getting my attention!"

Anubis came in a dramatically piercing thrust, air pressure compressing before the blade and igniting in focused lance of heat as darkly chaotic energies wrathed about it.

"No one likes getting my attention!"

Synestria has posed:
As Synestria gets closer to Kaydin, Synestria keeps her eyes on the fiend battle. If Serafina doesn't see Synestria, the very very loud hiss nearby will certainly draw her attention. This hiss streaks down a pair of comets towards Scarmiglione, trying to keep the rotting monster off of Jean.....

Quistis Trepe has posed:

Quistis leaps... straight into Barbariccia's discipline?!

"What - Who the hell is this Golbez you're talking about? Is he the one behind - unh!!" The hair starts to lash out, and Quistis finds herself being subjected to painful lashing with that immense weight of hair, clouded in the mist that she'd produced by throwing all that ice around.

Cold, wet lashes smash against her body as she cries out in momentary distress, the last one smacking alongside her face and raising a red welt as it sends her glasses flying off into the stratosphere. Clutching her face with one hand, she huffs, "S, stop it!!"

At which point she lashes out with her own whip, hopefully with more practice, to wrap it around Barbariccia's legs and send her flying downwards, just in time for her to turn her eyes downwards - but this time the streaking beam of white light comes from somewhere in her torso area! And it's accented afterwards by another disgorgement of water, aiming to soak down some of that airy mane and perhaps bring Barbariccia back to the skies on Quistis's terms.

How's she staying up there? Don't ask.

Baigan has posed:
"Baroooooon! The glory... glory... of Barooooooon!"

Alas, Baigan is past any state to offer much meaningful information to Mercade, though perhaps something will be gleaned from the snake-man's maddened rasping as he savagely lashes out with both snake arms, ignoring the detective's barrage and sinking two sets of fangs into his persistent adversary, driving the man to the ground and pinning him there. "The giftsss... thessse are the giftsss of Hisss Majesssty! With the wissse council of Lord Golbez, Baron... ssshall rissse at lassst to the prominent possition it rightfully dessservess! Ha ha! Aaaah ha ha ha ha ha! Thisss new world will be oursss!"

"Hmm hmm hmm hmm," dutifully laughs The Snakesuation, but with a mouthful of Mercade, it's quite muffled. Sir Snaggletooth just grunts, sounding rather put out by all this.

"And /now/ you ssshall /die/-- hm!?"

A moment before he seeks to crush Mercade's skull with both jaws of his mighty snake arms, it occurs to that last remaining rational fragment in Baigan's brain that he's made a terrible mistake.

"Hnngggaaaaaaahhh!"

He got Jean's attention.

That explosive sword thrust wrenches Baigan away from Mercade and sends him staggering, collapsing on his arms, Sir Snaggletooth's monocle audibly cracking from the impct. "Nooo... nooo... I cannot fail... you... YOU HAVE BETRAYED ME!!" he screams at his arms, for lack of anything better to say.

"Sorry, Boss," the Snakesuation helpfully offers.

"Ahem," Sir Snaggletooth interjects. "Captain, our formation appears to be crumbling. Perhaps it would be wise to join the Autarch of Flame in withdrawing from the field?"

"No... it... cannot be..." But it is. The dragoons and dark knight have begun to fall back, the common soldiers have been mostly routed, and the Heartless have been obliterated. Looking around helplessly, shocked and appalled, Baigan attempts to lurch to his monstrous feet and collapses again, before, choking, beginning to drag himself away. "No... your Majessty... Lord Golbez... forgive me...!"

ELSEWHERE

Golbez plays the organ, and doesn't care.

Scarmiglione has posed:
Zombies zombies everywhere, and they're not doing any good at all. Come on, guys! Just because you're dead and soulless doesn't mean you can't succeed if you just give it 110 percent! In fact, Milon's about to make them do just that when he hears...something. Is that...a whistling? The necromancer looks up. That's...oh. Those are some big rocks.

"Come back come back comebackcomebackcomeback--" He hurridly gives the order to his loyal, brainless minions, who start shambling back to him. Nevermind that he doesn't actually need to /speak/ to do so, he is panicing because somebody is dropping /outer space/ on him in a big, big, /big/ way.

And oh, how the zombies try to protect Milon. Throwing themselves on top of him, they form a big, fleshy, rotting wall. As it turns out, space doesn't really care.

Bits of rotten flesh and ruined earth go flying in every direction, as Milon's location basically just explodes.

There is dust. It clears after a dramatically appropriate period of time, revealing only Milon, lying on his back in a crater. He is motionless, not because he has been defeated, no. He is incapacitated by his own overwhelming hatred of everything that is still alive on the plains, dreaming of a time when he doesn't have to hate anything here because it's /all dead/.

It's important to have goals.

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
Sarafina is a patriot too but the way Baigan shouts for Baron seems less like patriotism and more like the howling of an animal. He calls them /gifts/, she thinks miserably. How could he have fallen so far? How could she have missed these things? Via her own pride in her own nation, she thinks miserably. To think something like that could have been used to devastate the very spirit of--

She shakes her head. No time to feel miserable. She has to tell Jean Faraven about that kid too, though that is for another time. There is a nearby hiss, preventing her from trying to poke someone with her chainsaw.

She turns and seems about ready to poke Synestria with the chainsaw but--

--but Nagetta, really. She doesn't realize SYnestria summoned comets because, lets face it, she doesn't expect Lamias to be able to do that.

But while she is on her guard she doesn't attack. "Lamia..." She says. "That man--is a loyal servant of Baron, but--" He still seems vaguely rational and sane. "--He does not share in its corruption." SHe thinks. "May I retrieve him?" She edges closer.

Barbariccia has posed:
Barbariccia's eyes narrow once more, convinced that she's being /lied/ to. After all, who doesn't know of the almighty and immortal Lord Golbez?"Fuuu~, hahahaha! How foolish! Don't think you can trick m--gerk!" is the inelegant way she interrupts her own haughty, stupid speech as a whip coils around her feet and bangs her into the ground with all the grace and poise of a blonde bag of potatoes dropped from a very tall height. It's all very inelegant.

With almost comical timing, a /mysteriously-sourced/ beam of laser light from somewhere totally PG-13 on Quistis's body (you know, like her armpits or something) envelops the archfiend of wind, whose feet are a little bound at the moment. She doesn't shriek so much as just kind of hold both arms up and makes an unhappy kind of a grunt, and then her robe evaporates.

So now we have peak Barbariccia outfit, back to the golden bikini. Don't blame me.

The Empress of Wind sits up, scowling, just in time to get drenched. Sorcerous water sloshes over her in a wave that briefly obscures her to be nothing more than a big comical pair of blinking eyes. "You might have fooled me once, Seed...ling..." Lord, how long did it take her to think up that one? "But I know your true intentions!"

Blondie doesn't need her feet unbound to zip up into the air after the mysteriously-hovering Quistis Trepe and slap both hands on her cheeks and gosh you can't see what happens but surely it's just one of those Italian-style family kisses on the cheek? Surely, yes.

Synestria has posed:
Staring at Sarafina, Synestria slithers closer to Kaydin and lifts him over her shoulder. "You may come with me if you wish. I know thissssssss dark knight, and will take him to ssssssafety. If that isssssss your intention assssss well, you may come with me." She doesn't wait for Sarafina to reply before she withdraws from the battle as quickly as she possibly can.

Mercade Alexander has posed:
Mercade gets caught once again by the devious snakes, grabbed up by the deadly hands of reptilian doom. "Gggaaaah!" Mercade yells, probably satisfying to the wounded Baigan's pride as he begins to get crushed within those hands... And then Baigan falls. The Detective is released, collapsing to the ground as the force of Baron are turned back. Mercade holsters his weapons, the adrenaline rush finally giving away to the knowledge that he is heavily wounded... And he falls to one knee, looking over at Jean Faraven. "So. You're a little famous around these parts, are you?" He asks Jean.

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
"I'll find you." Sarafina says, turning her head. She's willing to trust a lamia apparently. Nagetta. "They had a tendency to strike at Balamb Garden. Gave them some trouble. Baron does not forget nations that give them truoble." She says. "...Nor do fiends, I imagine."

Jean Faraven has posed:
Jean does not really stick around to listen to Baigan's blubbering because it is kind of pathetic. He does however note the name of 'Lord Golbez' as a thing to watch out for and investigate in the future. Perhaps he was the shadowy coordinator of all this aggressive, unchecked expansionism? It had all the trace elements of a Deling situation all over again.

All this flits through Jean's head as he soars through the air, having used Baigan as a springboard from which to now fall out of the sky like a swooping hawk that was actually a hound, it's dogtalkings grasping wide and viciously for Barbariccia as she violated no less than four different garden guidelines against Quistis's person, or would have if she was subject in any way to their by-laws.

"Hands off the merchandise!" Jean japed in the nick of time, aiming to plant the heel of his boot right in Barb's /face/ at a nice, harsh kick angle before following it up with a charged blow of mystically-imbued gunblade power and his general spitefulness.

"Rush back to your masters!"

Scarmiglione has posed:
As it turns out, lying motionless on your back in a crater is one of the least threatening actions you can take. That might be good to remember for the future. Certainly, it provided a fine opportunity to plot the destruction of, well. Everybody. But enough lying down, it is time to /act/. Scanning the battlefield once more, Milon discovers that there is nobody of note left, save for himself and Barbariccia. Sure there are some random guys getting shot by SEEDs, but who care?

Now, he /could/ slink away, but Barb is clearly in trouble. He could go help her, but, well...the last time he tried to help somebody out in a fight was Baigan, fifteen seconds ago, and see how THAT turned out.

...........

"Don't worry, Barbariccia, I come to your aid!" Shuffling toward his fellow Archfiend, Milon uses his magic to crash the party of the party crasher, the high-flying Jean Faraven, formless threads of magic reaching out to go SCHLUUUUUUUUP all up in his delicious life.

Quistis Trepe has posed:

Quistis is trying not to fall too summarily. She's suddenly gripped. She looks at Barbariccia with wide blue eyes, before -

*chu*

*EXPLOSION*

The sheer force of this makes Quistis smash away from Barbariccia, her body momentarily limp and helpless, which makes her landing softer. After impact, long moments pass before she realizes a mixture of what had just happened, as well as the fact that...

Her face burns hotter. Jean Faraven had to save her. The shame...!!

She straightens up more shakily. "Dammit," she breathes to herself, still with a red face. The gunblade assault in the skies seems like it would be adequate; as such, she moves towards the APC more directly.

Barbariccia has posed:
The heel of Jean Faraven's Cerberus-brand combat boot doesn't even cave in Barbariccia's face like it really ought to. It's like kicking one of those bouncy safety-floors they have in indoor rock-climbing centres, surprisingly strong and yet with a weirdly comfortable amount of yield.

It's all a little too much like last time they fought, when that Gunblade drives home. It's like trying to stab a bag full of mist. But given the score, here, 0 smooches to 1, it looks like even as the blitz assault leaves the Archfiend of Wind with only one option: become incorporeal and laugh hauntingly as her body disappears slowly, right before it would have slid in half like something out of Samurai Showdown.

Then, the realization that victory is hollow: /Scarmiglione/ is the last one standing.

If only the cloud of mist trundling back to the Tower of Zot could howl in rage.

Jean Faraven has posed:
Scarmiglione is the last one standing.

Or /is/ he?

Jean Faraven twists with preternatural grace of the finest acrobats as he descends from his clash with the lady of wind, nimbly twisting to avoid the paths of draining magic that would suck away his life force as he falls towards an inevitable collision with the next target: Scarmiglione.

In the Hound's mind, a ticker had been going off. It was at 'One', several heartbearts ago when Baigan well to the ground in a pile of snakes and unseen tears, 'Two' when Barbariccia fled yet again in her incorporeal state to nurse her anger on the nearest dancing girls. Jean's feet aimed to land square in Milon's ugly face and spring off in a backflip to create the needed distance.

'Three' he thought, as his he clicked on the ground and immediately surged forward with the by now familiar power of the junctioned, Cerberus a flaming influence on the gatering electrical force in his gunblade. The air exploded with the sound of a thousand chirping birds as he closed their distance in the blink of an eye and swung, pulling the trigger on his last chambered bullet...!

Mercade Alexander has posed:
Jean ignores him.

Fine. MErcade looks over at the last of the Barionian forces, the necromantic hobo.

The one who took out Will.

Mercade racks the slide on his shotgun, and advances on Scarmiglione. While Jean hammers into him, Mercade descends into the fray, jamming his shotgun right into Scarmiglione's back. "Hey, Smelly." Mercade says. "Your hobo-fu is weak."

BLAM.

Barbariccia has posed:
Barbariccia reforms somewhere on her throne and eats an entire quart of Frosted Mint Fudge Ice Cream, while the black knights of Zot tiptoe around the place trying not to attract any attention.

Fact.

Mercade Alexander has posed:
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER RIGHTEOUS VENGEANCE." Mercade yells as he murders the hell out of Scarmiglione.

He looks over to Jean. "So." He says. "Got time to talk now, or are you going to pose for the cameras?"

Scarmiglione has posed:
MISSION SUCCESS. Milon has barely begun to help, and already Barbariccia has gotten /completely wrecked/ by the ultimate soldier, Jean Faraven. Obviously, he will use this newfound power responsibly, or when anybody upsets him in any way at all.

So, constantly.

The downside: Jean is looking at him. Jean is rapidly advancing toward him. Something is poking into his back. "Wait, what is--"

Then it gets ugly.

The aftermath: there is a pile. Smoke rises from it. Presumably, Milon is somewhere inside the pile. At least, until the pile collapses, leaving nothing but the filthy remnants of what used to be a robe.

SOME TIME LATER
A CAVE SOMEWHERE

Scarmiglione dances and sings a strange little song. "Eh, kek, eh eh, kek, eh eh, ehn ehn, kek!"

Jean Faraven has posed:
Anubis cools, the battle is won, and Jean sends the command out over the radio for SeeD forces to begin focusing on helping the wounded.

"Didn't have the time." His brusque answer to Mercade is quickly followed by an introduction, "But i'm Jean Faraven, of SeeD. We've been hired to protect this area in addition to local forces. I don't care for publicity or glory, just getting the job done."

Speaking of getting the job done, where was Quistis? Jean's hound-sense tingled.

Quistis Trepe has posed:

Quistis is having a conversation with those two cadet operatives (an exciting innovation for senior-year students or marginal failures from their first exam to bolster Garden, given, you know, 'the theme of the game').

Possibly about their wacky helmets. "Where the HELL did you get all of those electric lights?"

"... the store."

Mercade Alexander has posed:
Mercade shrugs. "Whatever you say, 'Hound'." He pulls out a picture. "I'm Mercade Alexander, with the Twilight Detective Agency. I've seen you in the vicinity of this woman." He holds up a picture of a woman of Arabian descent in a peasant robe. "Can you tell me anything about her? It's critically important that I speak with her."

Jean Faraven has posed:
Jean's face doesn't betray anything when Mercade turns up the picture of Jasmine. He's not sure when or where Mercade saw him with her, but he decided to hedge his bets and play things relatively straight. "Not much. She's a refugee like many others, seeking to put her life back together. Balamb has an open-door policy on such people at the moment, we don't keep tabs on them as they come and go. Not sure if she's still staying there or if she's moved on just now."

Mercade Alexander has posed:
"I don't think so, Faraven." Mercade puts the picture back in his coat. "Hearless don't dispatch in swarms of hundreds to capture one woman. I was there, remember?" The Detective responds. "I want to know why they're chasing her. She's important to the Heartless, which means she might hold a key to their motivations and actions... And how we can stop them. Now you can keep playing dumb and force me to do this the hard way, or we can work together and punch these assholes in the balls. Your call."

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
Sarafina Carenze manages to divest herself of the student and approaches Mercade and Jean Faraven. She is frowning, not very severely, but it is serious. "I can speak for his credentials." She tells Jean. "He is odd, but I've seen him fighting the Heartless in numerous locales. General do-gooder." She looks to Mercade and adds, "I couldn't help but overhear some--" She looks back to Jean. "--But there was something I've been meaning to tell you myself--and hearing about Heartless chasing after that woman seems--it seems pertinent."

She glances to Mercade. "You know him too. Sora, the man with the ..." She sighs, it sounds stupid. "--the 'Keyblade'. He mentioned the Heartless chasing after him too. In fact--" She looks back to Jean. "A friend and I were ambushed by Heartless shortly after meeting him. He claimed that he found his weapon shortly after running into the Heartless--and the weapon reacts oddly with the Heartless. When he dispatches one, a heart flies right on out of it."

Jean Faraven has posed:
"I remember the event you're talking about." Jean nods his head, "And your guess is as good as mine on that, I don't know why their behavior pattern seems to shift so much around her, but it doesn't change the fact she is able to come and go as she pleases." He straightens, and looks toward the Horizon, "There's still much we don't know about the Heartless that we're trying to learn, but we saw first-hand here that Baron is trying to control them. My concern as of just now is making sure they don't find out about Jasmine, if they don't know already, and keeping her out of their hands if so. If you want exchange information, then our intelligence network is always happy to deal fairly with more contacts to, as you say, 'punch them in the balls'."

Sarafina intervenes, and some of the tension goes out of Jean's shoulders, alighting on the new information she has to share, "A Keyblade? Our agents have carried back some rumors of a thing like that, and a boy that was carrying it, but no one has actually seen him yet." His gaze lowered, considering Sarafina's words, "You've seen this kid personally?"

Mercade Alexander has posed:
Mercade Alexander spends a minute giving Will a couple Potions he picked up somewhere. Maybe that and the sweet sweet taste of vengeance will revive him.

"The Keyblade, huh?" Mercade says. "I've met Sora. The Keyblade is a powerful weapon against them, it's true, but... He told me he couldn't help me. He was concerned with catching up to a friend of his. After he left, I haven't seen him since. I have no idea what he's doing or where he is. He's probably a good enough kid, but I don't know if we can depend on him when we have worlds on the line."

Faraven causes Mercade to nod. "Jasmine, eh?" Mercade pulls out a notepad and jots something down, and puts it away. "That's progress, at least. Look, I don't want to hurt her. I just want to talk to her and maybe find something out useful. I'm more than happy to pass along to you guys what I know. The more hands we have fighting against these bastards, the better."

Sarafina Carenze has posed:
"Is that so--he had not mentioned as much to me." Sarafina says, thinking about that for a moment. "But--in all honesty--it is no surprise. I would be doing the same if I was not a soldier. He probably lost his world rather recently. But these problems won't be going away anytime soon. As you said, he's a good kid. I expect he'll be compelled to help by his own nature." A do-gooder too but Sarafina hates using that term even if it generally explains things nice and quickly. "My only concern is whether or not he'll be more careful with his fights--even against the Heartless--he seems powerful--but not especially trained." Which is probably code to Jean that it's not exactly ideal.

She turns to Jean after and nods to him. "Yes--he seems fond of zippers." Pause. "I can give your agents a sketch of him. It'll be accurate enough, he has a distinctive look."