middleofsomewhere | So Familiar a Gleam: Finale

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So Familiar a Gleam: Finale

YOU R̴̨̬̗̞̺̖̣̱͌̋̅͊͒̃͘Ų̴̨̨̦͎̭̥̰͍̞͙̲̰̞̭̎̆̓͂́͒̑͌̆̉̕͝Î̶̲͖͙͍̮̮̯̭͘͝N̵̡̢̢̛̛͔̳̲͚̙͕̘̠̞̈͊̂̋̆ͅÉ̸͖̟̻̯̪̭͉̭͖̱̙̠̺͎̥̿D̸̥́͒̈́̔̓̅̋͛̉̀͒̇̚̚ MY WORLD

A TL;DR notes version of days/prompts: (click to show)

EVENT BASICS:

DAYS 8-9 (M11-M12):

Buildings had begun to disappear during days 7&8, facilities and even whole streets begin vanishing. There are signs of crumbling infrastructure everywhere they look.
In the early morning of Day 9 (M12), the cracks in the city - in this illusionary world - finally spread. The void sky above shines brightly in its colours. Chaos - also referred to as the Entity, or That Guy - is heard screaming of vengeance against the Voidtreckers, blaming all that has happened onto them. It shows what happened to the original Diagad: It was destroyed by blocky shapes in the sky that came down and destroyed it, while Chaos itself fell into the void.

There is also some light mind torture, as a treat, to really wake people up. Memories, visions of their past assail them. This is the sort of stuff the voidtreckers have been training against and it's a good time for them to put all that work to the test.
Anan's group then takes over any electrical device still left. She explains that they have a way to get the non voidtreckers (4th wall characters and npcs) home and also a way to temporarily seal the world. The entity takes offence at this and the screens smash. The entity appears as a cyclone of crackling colourful energy.
Illusionary creatures are sent around to find and attack Voidtreckers, but they're also going after 4th wallers/NPCS. There's also monsters from other worlds leaking through, real monsters. People will have to move around more carefully, as going out on the streets is dangerous.
However, there's word that buildings are disintegrating/disappearing farther out from the centre sector. People see where the city limits are as the illusion of there being more to the city has completely faded.
Their SCA's begin to work fully, including comms. Of course not everyone was wearing their SCA when they got pulled and the 4th wallers don't have one so it will be up to those who do to make sure everyone is kept in the loop.
The main tasks are as follows.

"YOU. YOU WISH TO RUIN MY WORLD. TO TEAR IT ASUNDER, BREAK AND CRUMBLE AND INCINERATE ITS EXISTENCE AGAIN. AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. I WATCHED IT. THE END OF DIAGAD, PURPLE SKIES, THE CHILDREN WHO LAUGHED IN JOY, THE SMILES I BROUGHT TO LIFE. THE REASON I WORKED AND WOKE AND WHAT KEPT ME GOING EACH AND EVERY DAY. MY EXISTENCE. MY BEING.

FALLING. FALLING. FALLING. I FELL AS IT CAME, BLACK TERROR WITH A HUNGER. HOW DID THE CHILDREN CRY? DID THEY SUFFER? I CAN HEAR THEM ALL, I CAN IMAGINE THEM. SEE IT. THE POSSIBILITIES, THE MAYBES, THE TRUTH. THE WORLD-- MY BEAUTIFUL DIAGAD, OH! THE VOID HAS BLESSED AND CURSED AND DAMNED AND DESTROYED AND BROUGHT TO ME A CHANCE TO SAVE IT THIS TIME, I WILL SAVE DIAGAD, I WILL HEAR THE CHILDREN LAUGH AGAIN, NO ONE WILL DESTROY MY CITY AGAIN. NO ONE, NO THING, IT WILL BE BEAUTIFUL AND SAVED AND IT WILL PROSPER FOREVER.

ALL WHO HARM US! ALL WHO STOP OUR RETURN! I WILL FIX WHAT HAS BEEN BROKEN. NEVER AGAIN SHALL YOU YOU VOIDTRECKERS HARM MY WORLD AGAIN. TWISTING AND RUINING OUR HOME NO MORE NO MORE I WILL END YOU."

The spiel comes in the early morning of Merriment 12, their ninth day on this strange world, though morning and night are indistinguishable now with the void-scarred sky burning above Jinnjar. Little exists of the sectors but the education and political district, and everyone has had to take shelter in its buildings, on cold tiled floors and with few blankets. There is no waking comfortable, feeling at ease. The city continues to crumble, and the citizens turned into the Entity's Heroes never quit their search and harassing of people who may be secret Voidtreckers, regardless of the ruinous world around them.

And then it speaks. The Entity's voices wakes everyone, enters into dreams, reality and the fake undefinable between one another. Scenes switch from one to another. A sky. Purple, serene and calm. A feeling of great contentment. But then come the shadows. Dark clouds filling the sky, blotting out that most perfect sky. A scream. No, a thousand screams. A world of screams echoes in every ear. A shadowed figure falling into the void. Pain erupts through the body, the mind, madness and grief suffocating every sense, every fibre of the being, and more attempts to fill and drown each and every person in Diagad. There is grief, there is love, there is despair. A longing and desperation that can never be fulfilled that cries out.

Once it's over, many have collapsed from the experience, and there are screams of those scared for their lives. Go out into the streets if you haven't already, and you will see the streets breaking, buildings being pulled like cubes, splitting people and trapping them. And there is a surge that hits people - Voidtreckers, others - with a brainwashing that makes them think of only one thing:

NO MORE. END. WE WILL END THE VOIDTRECKERS.

In amongst all of this chaos screens switch on. Any screens left working in buildings, on buildings, peoples phones. All show a young woman, a droid sat on her hair, metal legs curled around her head.

"Malin?"

A woman's voice. "Yes, go Anan. Now."

"LISTEN UP!" Anan isn't as loud as the booming voice echoing through the city, but she makes herself clear. "We need to evacuate and seal this world. It is falling apart." Stating the obvious, perhaps.

"We can temporarily seal it and we think there is a way to get the others back to their worlds. I know you Voidtreckers have had no training and this is advanced and really dangerous but everyone who is not a void traveller is in a lot of danger."

In truth, even the void travellers were in danger, but she doesn't want morale to be too low.

"Anyone willing to help meet me in the big park. You'll know it, it's the only park left!"

'HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU THWART ME. NO. NO. YOU DON'T. THIS IS MY CITY. MINE NOT YOURS. NOT YOURS TO DESTROY.' There's a huge crack as the sky itself seems to crack apart as colours twist and turn, a cyclone that forms at the edgez of the city, slowly beginning to devour it.

Over the camera Anan looks visibly shocked, terrified even, lost for words. An older man with reddish greying hair steps towards her, putting a big hand on her shoulder.

"Focus Anan. Voidtreckers. We do not ask it lightly. Please those that can, fight. Buy us time to set the seals. Buy time for those with no void craft to evacuate."

The screens flicker in colour before it cracks into static.

'NONE OF YOU WILL SURVIVE.'

A DISJOINTED REALITY

[ FALLING CITY. ] The city has been torn apart, fragments of roads, buildings and structures floating in a horrible mess. Friends and comrades split apart, some trapped in rooms that once had exits, or with no way out than to fall to nowhere. Pieces may stitch back together again at random, but with the same unpredictably, tear apart.

And if it couldn't get any worse, those core lights buzz around the environment, searching for individuals. They will do anything to hinder our heroes: turn into monsters from their minds, attempt to encase them inside illusions of their fears; even try to make them see pathways that don't exist, to make them fall into nothingness.

But for those who honed their resistances against illusions, this time may be different from the last. And with some experimenting, or just some lucky wishful thinking at the right time - some will find they can bend the illusions to do as they want, if just for a while. Stitch back together pathways so they can be crossed over, or make a weapon appear where it's needed.

It requires concentration, will be exhausting with too much use, but still - when isn't an axe or road on call handy?

[ HINDRANCE OR HELP. ] But it isn't only the core lights and environment they need to worry about. There are monsters coming out of the void - monsters they may recognise, monsters they may not. But unlike those of illusions, these are real, monsters - mechanical, ghostly, flesh and blood, something else entirely - slipping through from other worlds to rampage here.

There are also civilians, those who remain brainwashed, going after the Voidtreckers with powers of their own: telekinesis, pyromancy, superstrength and endurance, and so forth. Their skill levels vary, but the strongest of all are those who features have become twisted, chaotic. Streaks of colours dance under the skin, and they listen to no reason but their own. The entity - no their god, Chaos, is remaking the world. Remaking it the way it should have always been.

Strangely, but luckily, not everyone is harmful. Amongst those out there are a peculiar sight: a short hybrid between child and woodland-creature. They're keen to help, particularly anyone young or good of heart. They will help to lead them to safe shelters - the safe-houses made by Voidtreckers, the protected rooms all that are left. They may even interrupt the core lights from harming youngsters, knocking and shattering them, and then staying close to the youngster.

[ THE EVACUATION. ] For those who manage to make their way to the park, Anan is there, looking grim. One good thing though, as voidtreckers rush towards the entity or get ready to protect those helping evacuate this world- those with SCA's will see them burst into life, comms online.

The evacuation area needs protecting. Those acting as beacons aren't able to fight for themselves and the evacuation process is intense, slow and there are many many people in this city. The main entity is distracted but the monsters are drawn towards this gathering of people. Holding them back is vital to this plan working.

It's going to take everything the voidtreckers and their new friends have, to pull this plan off.

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These last few weeks have been unerringly cruel, the perfect storm to brew in an uncertain heart nothing but pain, rage and loss. To find home and world is forever barred from him, destroyed by his own actions, every person he trusted viewing him with naked hatred and fear, then ... then, oh, this world, this 'Entity' returns to him all he'd lost, and he'd fought, fought so hard to keep the illusion even as it came apart around him, because with it came family and purpose and a place to belong...

And that too has been torn away.

This world too, is ending. His family is nothing. Has never been. And as the Entity screams Its fury against them, it's not with the Voidtreckers, his 'own allies', that all of his sympathy resides with. No. He knows the loss, the despair and grief and pain too keenly to easily ignore it, it had dogged him since the very moment the train took him and dropped him on a platform and then obliterated the mystery and wonder by serving up those of his world facing him with bloody-minded intention. It is with only fury and grief and loss that Theodore - Xehannort - whichever, did it really matter anymore - that he stands in the street as it comes apart, watching the sky flicker and change, the roar of Darkness, of countless hearts mired in nothing but the shadow of terror and rage, a constant thundering cacophony. There is no light here in this place, not anymore. This world will fall. And in it, the whisper of his own Darkness.

I would help you, if I could.

But he can't. And so he does what he can, and turns away.

There's a woman who knows what the SCAs can do, and that's something, isn't it? A way for others to escape. A way out for some, when so many others would not be able to. And so, like other Voidtreckers, he listens to the directions, watches Anan's demonstration, and with little hesitation, follows.

In the light, he throws a long, dark shadow. It shifts like a living thing, rises around him like smoke, and intensifies by degrees the longer he remains, absorbing the grief and fear and pain that seethed around him. It is not with comforting hands of brilliance that he offers to those seeking evacuation, but quivering Darkness. That too might be a source of comfort against the chaos of the river, any stable point is a welcome one isn't it?

...Isn't it?

Edited 2021-07-21 10:44 (UTC)

There had been another Elidibus. He lived the life of Elliot Stiller. As 'The Lightwarrior'. That man had sought to protect the city and be the savior of all, most particularly of the small family. And he had turned particularly harsh and unyielding in the face of the Voidtrecker threat. Here he was needed and had purpose. Duty. He would not be alone.

But as the city began to crumble and nightmarish beasts emerged, there was no longer any power which could keep him locked within the false past. This was so markedly similar to the memories of his own world's Final Days; an event so profound that it still impacts the fragments of his peoples' souls thousands upon thousands of years later. There was no rain of fire, but in this case, that detail did not matter.

He was Elidibus again. He remembered who he was as Elliot and who he was truly supposed to be. But amidst the chaotic moments of this world's ending, where he might once have lingered and retaliated for the sheer audacity of this entity's efforts of imprisoning one such as him, the Ascian instead had looked about him. Had listened to the pain and desperation. Elidibus found himself unable to remain angered or offended. So he sought to let the thing behind this whole terrible cage simply be as he sought his own means to escape. Though he was more certainly done being 'Elliot Stiller'.

A figure wearing a mask of red and a hooded robe of white with purple and golden embellishment would be witnessed arriving in the park with a small group of young people. Children mostly, teens and maybe one or two adults. Whether it was lingering attachment to the memories this place supplied or some part of him who could not abandon people in need is certainly in question. Maybe it was simply a small revenge against the entity that he could not quite set aside for all the Ascian no longer thought of direct confrontation. The important thing is that by his efforts and protection through the conflict, a group of people would be able to return home. They are sent in smaller groups to the various Voidtrecker anchors in a way that would not overburden any one individual. And once they are sent on their way, Elidibus turns toward the Darkness.

He'd not sent any of the people he'd rescued there, but it bore a certain level of familiarity. And so he himself headed toward it. Where the outfit and appearance might not have been familiar to Xehanort, perhaps his voice is.

That, and the darkness surrounding the Ascian. Virtually identical in fact.

"How curious." The intensity and strength of the Darkness there, ever growing in strength it seems. "And you are still able to bear the burden of sending one home?"

He knows that voice, but not the appearance - this hood, cloak, mask. There's something dimly familiar about some of it, though he's sure the coloring is all wrong; it's not quite enough to make him mention it, though there is a pause and a slow furrow of brow to mark that something seems recognizable.

The small ones being sent away is probably for the best. Xehanort's path home is not one that's going to be pleasant or comfortable thanks to the way darkness operates, changes, taints - the destination the same, but with the resonating pain of so much negativity. For a young person it might be as traumatizing as the rest was. For someone like Elidibus? Maybe not.

"I can, though it comes at a price. The others will not command such a cost." Not one he can do anything about - how does he reign in his own heart enough to stifle the darkness? A skill he would have to learn, if he survived this.

There's a sound to the swirling shadows Elidibus shrouds himself with. It too is recognizable, even if it strikes a little differently, and to it he can put a name and a face ... but it's not ... quite the same. "It will help if you have something to fix upon. A purpose, a friend, a love. Something beyond loss, though this world reverberates with it in each breaking piece."

He understands implicitly what the storm of emotion would do, was doing. "Do you have something worth fighting for?"

There had been a reason Elidibus had sent the young ones to others, less strenuous in their journey home. Relatively speaking. The river of chaos is something all on its own. But here, in Xehanort's shadow, there lay something more.

Why Elidibus chose this instead of another is anyone's guess. Xehanort's puzzled expression is noted but goes unremarked, at first. There seems to be another matter to dwell on that takes priority.

Yet, something beyond loss. Behind the mask, the Ascian closes his eyes. They had all gone before him, his dear friends. His family; real family. Though why did 'Kelly' and 'Albert' still feel like they were apart of that? He doesn't know. His memories; oh some are restored, but how much is still lost? Ones he will lose again in time. Perhaps more quickly in the absence of the others. But a purpose? ...Yes, he does still have a purpose. Its way forward may have become a little less certain in recent events. But the burning need to save his people is still present.

Something positive.

His eyes open again; for all this might not have been apparent, there is still a shift of the head under the robe's cowl as if he refocuses on his chosen anchor. A hand reaches out; with care for the metal tips on several fingers are sharp, but offering it for the taking. "My duty yet remains. And with it, the burden of my peoples' hope. For I am Elidibus. And I will accept your cost, if you will guide me home."

Edited 2021-07-22 23:53 (UTC)

He knows what other people say the darkness does. It consumes, devours, drags down its victims ... but he didn't feel like he was drowning in it, though he could feel its pull, feel its effects on his own emotions. Above the roar of a dying world's countless voices, there is still something ...

Could another weather its storm? If his own darkness stirred and evoked someone else's, could they handle the shadows of their OWN hearts? He's about to find out.

One bitter, cold experiment.

"All things end," the young researcher murmurs, closing Elidibus' taloned hand in his own. "Including this. Let's get you back to where you belong before there's nothing to anchor to."

The SCA would prevent anything terrible from happening. Surely! It's a little more personal than some might like, but Xehanort tugs slightly so a mere hold on a hand is also looped through one white-robed arm, a better grip ...just in case. With contact comes the instant, immediate provocation of turmoil, rage, pain, loss -- and not all of it this world's, the river's, or anyone else's. It changes the sound of the darkness, to Xehanort's perception, but he says nothing, only pulls slightly, forward, ever forward-

The price is Elidibus' own nightmares come to tear at him alongside the rest. Twelve thousand years of suffering, of loss, of fury and bitterness, even if the reasons why they existed had long faded, the darkness did not..

The only reassurance is the solid grip of Xehanort himself. A reminder that it would, it would end, and on the other shore, the Source awaits.

There is an overtly startled look thrown in Xehanort's direction as the lifeline of holding hands firmly becomes a loop of arms. While it only takes a moment to recognize this is an act of practicality alone- Xehanort's demeanor and attitude are pretty clear- the tension both in the arm and the evacuee's Darkness make it clear he is neither accustomed to or comfortable with it. Perhaps not the best of beginnings to a journey fraught with peril.

But Elidibus is not given time to dwell on it overlong.

It begins as a turmoil in the Darkness. A subtle yet growing unease that makes Elidibus first wonder; where was this cacophony of rage, of pain and loss, coming from. It seemed so... small. Perhaps it was this gentleman's and it would certainly make sense as it began immediately on coming in contact with Xehanort. Yet it continues to swell. In comparison the first provocation was simply a trickle warning of the dangerous flash flood which would soon follow until one inviolable fact is leveled upon the Ascian.

These were his own emotions. The full impact has only a moment to cause Elidibus to sharply inhale before the river of chaos crashes against the two and nightmares begin to unfold. The Ascian physically stumbles, and it is just as well Xehanort had decided for the more secure hold on his passenger.

How much worse is it for the return of some portion of his memories? Those beloved brothers and sisters, every one so dear and kind in their own ways. Teasing, scolding. Supporting one another. All but three torn asunder by the conflict of their race which was the result of his failings to bring reconciliation to the rival factions. His fault. How he had failed his people in this very basic duty. Grief tears at him, as does memories of the Sundering.

"I am Elidibus," he murmurs to himself and continues forward. Because loss had not come from just his people or memories, but of identity itself. For millennia, as time and the voices and needs of his people had worn away his memories until singular purpose had become his only drive, the Ascian had held on to this driving value. Yet millennia had also carried the pain of that loss and here? It is amplified unreasonably so. Anger, not determination is the response to this roiling river of chaos and Darkness. Uncertainty. A memory of his name, his real name must certainly exist thanks to the gifts of the Convocation stones the Warrior of Darkness had lavished upon him. It had been... a gift? Certainly not malice...? Because he could not be certain, even now, that particular name belongs to what or who he is now. A hollowed shell, still lacking in so many memories not conveniently chronicled because at one point he had refused to continue the timeless pain of refreshing them.

He had been so sure it was right, then. Now it was.... a regret.

This is only the beginning.

Edited 2021-07-25 17:23 (UTC)

"Are you?" Through the turmoil of upended emotions, through the river of souls, through the darkness and millennia of pain, a question that's strangely mild for all the circumstances are horrific. Dethatched, interested.

This isn't Xehanort's fight. He contended with his own darkness constantly, and called it friend. This is Elidibus' fight.

But he can interrupt, can't he? As the sound of someone else's darkness changes and shifts, from grief to rage to uncertainty and more, he times it ... carefully. A punctuation mark, a reminder that not all is the storm of emotions.

"I know another Elidibus. You're the first person I've actually spoken to from an alternate world, then. But he has a duty. An important one, doesn't he? And you do too. A hope, something shining and bright. Do you remember what it is?"

His tone remains quiet - to his own ears, barely audible over the roaring darkness. But Elidibus might not have that particular problem.

Keep moving, always moving ... and reorient.

He... is. He is. Lost in the sea of emotional turmoil, despite the meaning of Xehanort's question- interest that this is an alternate world's Elidibus- it hits home. It brings a discordant shriek of rage to the dark emotions swirling in a vortex and threatening to consume him.

He is nothing more than a Primal manifestation. Yet why does the truth still pain him? The coil of his arm slackens a little in Xehanort's grip. But after a few moments and thanks to the precaution that was taken before they started across the river, it has time to tighten again.

It's true after all. The inundation of negative emotions may be distraction, but there is no true audible 'volume' to it. Bitter dregs of a bitten back statement of how there can be only one scatter through the current. Xehanort.... does not speak of Elidibus's own timeline but another.

"You've met me... before?" Not him that's true. But given his inability to keep his memories intact, it hardly makes much difference wether it's himself or an alternate universe in the end. How acutely can Xehanort see? There is a trace of tears that have managed to express themselves from underneath the mask. His guide speaks of a duty; one he has not forgotten by any means. After all, it existed in the dark emotions poured over him in the crossing. In his breath and every step, nearly every thought. So much so that even the entity that trapped them had barely shifted his core purpose in the false backstory of this fake Star.

"My duty. Yes, I remember it." Profound grief momentarily roars into existence. "My people. My... dear friends." Brittle grief, like fragile ice threatening to shatter and plunge them both into dark, frigid waters. The 'sound' of love doesn't accompany it.

Yet in Elidibus' tone it is wholly present.

But hope cannot be heard either. What he is and embodies; yet the emotional storm seems to ebb ever so slightly- at least in the accounting of twelve millennia. The chaotic river remains. Emotion remains. But the Ascian has found something to anchor himself.

"I am their hope. My.. hope. And mankind's salvation. Though they have all gone before me there is still much I can do." Whether that purpose would be to press on or find a different way is not voiced.

What is important is that he has a renewed sense of purpose and is fighting against the influence of the crossing again. He progress forward is more assured, though he is careful to hang on to the other man.

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So Familiar a Gleam: Finale

OTA - Xehanort, Orange Team

Spoilers for FFXIV Shadowbringers Within!

OH NO YOU SPOILED ME

SO many spoilers!

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Drama, also SO MUCH SPOILER for FFXIV Shadowbringers.

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