recolle | Semi-Open

Entry tags:

Semi-Open

WHO: Freya, Pen, Luna, Felicia; others added as needed
WHERE: Campground, outskirts of Recolle, beginning of the road to Magatus
WHEN: May 20th
WHAT: Freya turns into Ragnarok, and Ragnarok is not friendly.
WARNINGS: Violence

[[Important! If you would like an encounter with Ragnarok, please contact me by PM or at

gsdragono and we'll work something out!]]

One arrow. Another. The next.

They came slower once Freya had sorted out her feelings about the cursed mark, but they still came. Every week, more of that reddening eye stared back at her in the mirror. It was thoughts of Ryoji, both of his monstrous side and his return from death that kept Freya sane.

But those thoughts didn't dismiss the fear of the creature that awaited her, or her other self's despise and heart-wrenching pity for the soulless things. She could put on a brave face all she wanted, but with each passing day, the hope that this time would be different from her other self's world--that the Brand wouldn't work how it should--became harder and harder to muster.

When a spasm rippled through her shoulder and the Brand burned, Freya knew her time was up, and the fear packed beneath the surface burst through to seize her. That was all the invitation the Brand needed. Ragnarok had come.

[Penelope - Morning]

The paint can clattered to dirt as Freya clutched her right shoulder, fingers clutching at the skin through the fabric as though she could suppress the Brand's blazing light if she just pressed hard enough.

"No," was out of her mouth before she could stop it, somewhere between forceful and quiet, and several more desperately murmured no followed as Freya fell to a knee. Not here. Not now, not where Pen could see, their little pact about Freya's curse be damned. She was lucky, probably, for this to happen at the camp grounds, away from the city, but...

A little more time. Just a little more time.

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Ragnarok's physical strength would definitely be put to the test, trying to heave a Cu. His very skin burns to the touch, though compared to the pain a sumo slap from him would cause it's likely insignificant. He hasn't fully rooted himself, either, so he does go. His arms flail and pinwheel, the ungainly form not really helping him as physics comes into play. Gilgamesh diverts his swords in time to avoid impaling the demon and coating the forest in toxic blood, but it sends the two of them crashing together.

The spirit rebounds, leaping up and over the demon, using it's body to obscure his motion. Down he comes, blades sweeping in a truly massive arc. Meanwhile Penelope flicks her wrist out and lashes at Ragnarok with a Blind spell, hoping to cut the monster off from it's senses to aid her allies.

The not-quite-Freya beast hopped back after tossing Cu, but the follow-up was impeded by a misstep. Ragnarok shook it's head violently a few times--nearly a full-body motion--to clear its vision, but only in time for Gil to come crashing down.

The Cie'th was larger and heavier than Freya, but the force of the strike was still enough to knock it around. The blades sparked across the beast's rock-like skin instead of opening wounds, but Ragnarok still seemed to recoil in pain regardless.

The onslaught forced it back, but Ragnarok soon managed to get its feet underneath it, and the look of fury on the beast's face renewed itself with fresh zeal. A hand lashed out to the side, catching and tearing a picnic bench from the ground to fling it at Gil's head. Almost in the same motion, Ragnarok spun, tail cleaving clear through the base of a half-painted tree, the true height of which obscured by the lack of complete paint.

With a furious cry, the Cieth seized the tree (the bark withering in contact with Cu's blood) and heaved it down in the direction of the Yahri and his allies.

Gilgamesh laughs, his solemn attitude breaking as the thrill of a fight takes over. Despite Penelope's situation, the spirit can't help but enjoy a good fight, and the bench is batted aside with the buster sword it holds in one hand. The tree, however...is something else entirely. He ducks away from it, moving aside. The trunk continues it's arc, and if not for something huge moving into the way it would've collided with Penelope.

Cu rocks back onto his ass with the force of the blow, the tree bouncing off it's blubbery hide.

"What...?" Pen all but gasps, surprised at the thing's loyalty, but then stops to think. If she goes away, he goes away. It's as much self interest as anything. It gives her a moment to act, too. Thrusting out a hand, she hurls another spell. This one streaks out towards Ragnarok and explodes into a shower of lacerating energy tendrils, cutting and slicing and aiming to rip through that rock-like exterior.

Ragnarok did not relent--it was not capable of relenting. It leapt, but not at Gil; the creature bounded to another tree trunk with a four-legged leap before bounding to another, and another, rushing at the Yahri from erratic angles, looking for an opportunity to dash at the spirit. The tendrils hurt, but the pain merely fed its fury. There was a great source of pain.

Gilgamesh harmed. Gilgamesh laughed. Gilgamesh lived. That was enough for the seething hatred, that wordless, thoughtless need to annihilate. Ragnarok moved without any fear of sword or mortal consequences, and if permitted to get close, would collide with his chest or back and do its utmost best to smash Gil's head in, repeatedly.

Gilgamesh was no fool, but he was operating under the assumption that his foe cared about personal preservation. The swords do come in, hard, swift, and brutally violent, slashing down at Ragnarok as it rushes him. They might do some severe damage, but they're meant to ward off something, not counting on that rush. The spirit is bowled over under the onslaught, and while he gives a fighting grin it's clear that fucking hurts.

"Get her off him!" Pen shouts, unable to really bring magic to bear with an ally in close. Cu has to pick himself up, but he's already begun doing something else, fat fingers working through a spell...so it's up to Tonberry. The creature rushes forward from it's hiding spot and leaps into the air, knife aimed squarely for the base of Ragnarok's neck.

The knife found its mark easily enough--perhaps more easily than it should of. It's enough to derail Ragnarok's single-minded animosity towards Gilgamesh, distracted by something... deep-seated. Pre-existing.

Ragnarok ceased pummeling Gil's face to thrash, clawing for a grasp on the small green creature. Once it had purchase, it flung the small Yahri violently away; it was only by coincidence that happened to be directly a tree.

Tons yelps in surprise and goes flying back into said tree, bouncing off it and rolling away. Clearly it had struck a nerve...but the attack gives Gil a chance to strike back. The six armed spirit snaps a lower arm up and slams a blade in between Ragnarok and himself, using the large flat weapon to throw her off. Leaping up, it's in time to catch the spell Cu had been casting.

Curaga washes over Pen and her two close allies, missing Tons, banishing the worst of the injuries and giving Pen the chance to fling another Scourge spell at Ragnarok.

The Scourge caught up to Ragnarok while the Cie'th tumbled from the throw, lashing at it, and it skitters to a stop some ways away. For the first time since the encounter began, there was a sluggishness to the monster: an extra second getting its feet under it, visible effort pushing itself up. For a quiet, still moment, it stooped, head hung low.

But suddenly it tensed and coiled before rearing back and throwing its arms wide, screaming at the sky. The black portions of Ragnarok's hide flashed and turned crystalline and roared again, at Pen and her battle party this time. The beast's tail whipped in a savage arc behind it ripping up a shower of earth; then it spun, hands tearing newly exposed rock and pitching the stone as if it were small.

Edited 2018-05-30 21:52 (UTC)

Well that was a boss fight phase change if Pen had ever seen one. This is probably where her raid timers would be screaming at her to maximize DPS before an enrage timer, however all she can do is skitter to one side to avoid the stone. It rolls and bounces, ricocheting off the earth thanks to the force and slamming into a tree. The splinters fly everywhere, and it's only the bubble that keeps the party from being shredded.

"Right..." Pen panted, thrusting her hand out and lobbing another spell, this time at Gil. The Haste hits him and he moves like greased lightning, rushing at Ragnarok with even greater speed, swords slashing in a frenzy of blows.

The beast responded in kind, ripping more rock from the ground and chucking it Gilgamesh's way. It didn't stop there; as soon as the project left its hands, Ragnarok surged forward to meet frenzy for frenzy. It leapt and spun, vaguely reminiscent of Freya's spearfighting, but with an additional forward twist to bring that heavy tail down with savage momentum. Gil's head, his swords--it didn't matter. All that mattered was harm and destruction.

This time Gil was ready. He knew the creature had little care for self-preservation and instead of assuming it would back off, he pivoted and spun away. That had been a cover in the first place, as another Scourge spell, the last Pen could manage without some time to recharge, flew in towards Ragnarok. A feint.

Cu, on the other hand, simply surged forward after Gil, his bulk much slower than the hasted spirit.

"FIIIIIGHT!" he roared.

The tail split the ground where the Yahri should have been just in time for the next Scourge. Ragnarok recoiled from the pain but rolled with the motion, turning it into a spin and seizing a section of the split and fallen tree. And that section of tree went straight at Cu--or through, if the Esper did not stop.

It wasn't only Ragnarok's fury that grew as the fight (and it's injuries) dragged on; its strength, too, grew proportionally with that fury. A special hatred aided it against Cu--a faint echo of Freya's contempt of the Espers. The Cie'th, in this moment before something else drew its ire, wanted nothing more than to rip Cu into literal bloody pieces.

Edited 2018-05-31 06:46 (UTC)

The tree comes in hard, and Cu isn't stopping. The trunk slams into his midsection, and one arm bats what it can aside. It's not enough to arrest the motion, but it is more than enough to puncture his belly and reveal the rather...horrible...innards. The monster rumbles a laugh and from inside the hole an enormous scorpion-like tail explodes outward in a shower of black blood. It launches itself towards Ragnarok, spewing a boiling swathe of acid out towards it's attacker. The stinger aims right for her throat, glistening like red crystal in the morning sunlight. If it connects even slightly, the sheer explosive force of it might propel the monster backwards at a frightening speed.

Pen's stomach churns a little, the vile sight and stench enough to make her take a few steps back with Gil.

Ragnarok started to twist and clawed at the new appendage, almost like in some kind of overwrought slow-motion. It reached for that glistening tail as if trying to catch a striking snake and moved just far enough to avoid a strike to the throat, but the attack was too quick; it struck Ragnarok square in the chest instead.

The beast managed to grasp the tail just behind the stinger a split-second later, but the sheer force of the blow still sent it ragdolling unnaturally backwards, bending in a way something with bones couldn't. Ragnarok's grip never faltered, though, preventing it from rocketing backwards into the unpainted forest. The moment the monster found purchase on the ground, it sunk tail and legs and free hand into the ground, and yanked with a roar and all of its might in retaliation.

The fell Cie'th hadn't escaped unharmed; a small crack had opened on its crystalline form at the point of impact, about where the sternum would be, leaking light. The first visual sign of injury, but one the monster was all the more dangerous for.

The tail came free in a shower of ichor and gore, but rather than sticking around, it vanishes the instant it leaves contact with the Esper. A shower of green motes and then it simply vanishes. Cu sags a little, arms pressed to it's belly, but doesn't seem at all put down. Something about it just isn't right though, and it lists to one side.

Gilgamesh, on the other hand, is just fine. And taking advantage of the opportunity he rushes forward with his swords raised up, aiming for that crack.

All the beast had time to do was curl its elongated arms defensively around head and chest in face of the hastened onslaught, growling as sparks flew from crystal skin. The beast wasn't entirely without a concept of preservation; it was mindless, but not completely stupid. Ragnarok was a weapon, a walking purpose, and it would not permit threats to that single-minded purpose. But self-preservation? Cie'th didn't truly live. There was nothing of self to preserve.

It ducked further and dove forward into the strikes into an attempt to get within Gil's range. Then Ragnarok surged up, whipping its tail skyward to try and launch the Yahri away from it. The spirit was persistent, so endlessly, infuriatingly persistent.

Persistent is his middle name, because Gil partially deflects that blow, knocking it aside and nearly losing a sword in the process. It's only the Haste that lets him keep up, giving up ground, but he's in better shape than either of the other two creatures. His lower arms flicker and the long swords shift into daggers, better to defend in close if it tries that again.

Skipping back, he puts himself between Penelope and Ragnarok, watching warily, waiting for a response.

Ragnarok crouched low on all legs to protect that weak spot, heaving for breath it didn't truly need; it was a frantic motion more than anything, a vestigial human habit. With a lull in the action, it was less a pause on Ragnarok's end and more a distracted stare passed its two foes to the blank, white sky.

Empty sky. No floating nest, and no concave ceiling of the enemy land overhead.

The Cie'th let out another frustrated cry, and sent another spinning lash of its tail forward, this time cleaving the earth before it to launch another shower of stone.

(Earth. It kept resorting to weaponizing the ground instinctively, reaching for a phantom power it didn't possess; something fragmented and incomplete.)

And without further waiting, it dashed in the opposite direction, leaping from painted trunk to trunk, seeking the highest vantage point possible.

The stone flew in arcs, and a loud, metallic pinging and crunch made Pen turn around. And groan. One of those thrown trees had definitely gone clear through the roof of her car, and the stones hadn't helped. It was useless...and the monster was running.

"Okay. Guess we're hoofing it back to town."

Banishing summons, Pen took off after Ragnarok, though she wasn't going to catch up anytime soon.

Ragnarok may have moved quickly, and roamed widely, but the beast really wasn't difficult to find once someone landed in its general vicinity.

Ragnarok had a purpose--was a purpose. As its existence dragged on, so did its frustration; Cocoon was no here, nor Eden, nor Orphan. The sky that was supposed to bear those entities sat empty and mockingly blank. It was all the Cie'th could do to leap from and cling to the tops of partially invisible trees, roaming in search of greater heights, and howl at the sky.

Occasionally, it threw things, too. Boulders that arced impossibly towards the sky, and broken chunks of trees soared at nothing. The creature's search grew more and more frantic.

Frantic, and erratic. Ragnarok had stumbled deeper into Recolle's wilds, into unpainted territory, crashing into trees and branches and hillsides and tripping over roots. It was hard to miss the resulting fury; the thunderous cracks of wood, of stone, of earth and the monster's low screams could be heard for quite some distance. The beast clawed and thrashed its tail wildly, destroying anything in reach, trying to clear the area in a futile, petulant attempt to rid itself of all these invisible obstacles.

There was nothing here. Nothing. No land, no sky, no Cocoon, no purpose. The only thing left that it could do was destroy, and wallow in its miserable tantrum like any other Cie'th.

Penelope was not the type to remain idle, not when a promise had been made. Getting back to town had taken hours, but thankfully she'd managed to hitch a ride as soon as she'd hit the parkway. That had sped up her day immeasurably. Home had been a flurry, energy drinks and some of the other things she'd picked up from Tanaka's Shopping Network.

Getting on her armor, she hadn't wasted any time in leaping into her airship and taking off searching. Sweeps of the city and sweeps of the surrounding area, and passing over the forest had yielded little in the way of clues until eventually after dusk, her sensors exploded with sound. The entire console light up as it picked up on a powerful lifeform. Exterior cameras provided a sight, the monster rampaging through the forest, and that meant it was time.

Casting Float on herself, leaving the ship high in the air to provide light from it's searchlights, Pen leaped out, spear in one hand A soft crunch echoed in the forest, and she advanced quickly, looking for the monster. She didn't want to summon just yet, not wanting to attract it's attention with a lightshow. So this would have to do. She just hoped that it hadn't heard her land and was distracted by the floodlight.

Penelope's quiet landing went unnoticed with all of the Cie'th's thrashing, and the floodlight more than did its job. Ragnarok's head snapped up to the source. Its hands scrabbled against the broken, unpainted terrain until it found purchase, and hurled another boulder skyward with a spinning throw and a frustrated scream.

The boulder ricocheted off of the ships Mist refraction field, wanging off into the woods far away. And rather than waste time, Pen rushed out of the trees, spear thrusting towards Ragnarok's back.

The spear skittered across Ragnarok's back with a shower of sparks, much like Gil's swords. Ragnarok recoiled from the surprise strike, rolling with the motion and whipping around with a blind backhand.

Pen was prepared for that, already moving backward, Haste speeding her response time to superhuman levels. The spear twirled again and jabbed out, muscle memory making it aim for underarms and potentially softer flesh.

"I won't let you get away this time!"

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Late Evening

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