Motherfuckin Airship - 04/28/20
[Gair]
| The mechanism of the airship lift carries Gair, Luna and Gust to the highest levels of Ul'dah's cityscape. The lattice steel gate folding against the wall to allow them entry to the lounge and ticketing area. |
Gair leads Gust by the reigns and steps ahead, bringing the chocobo to the counter first. The bird loaded down with his saddlebags filled with supplies and namely: armor and extra armament. He was only lightly armed himself: wearing a leather arming vest with his hoplon strapped to his arm and a falchion dangling from his belt. Gust's reigns are handed off and the chocobo is ushered to a separate waiting area to be loaded into the hold below.
“Back to La Noscea we go,” Gair turns on a heel back toward Luna and grunts. “At least it beats going north to Coerthas, I can't stand any cold of late.”
[Luna]
Luna is found adjusting her sword on her belt, tightening it. In stark contrast with the man, she sports her usual dark plate from neck to toe, the helmet stowed with Gust as well. “Yes, yes, woe betide you that Coerthas exists, ever taunting you from the far North. I suppose we may both agree, then, on La Noscea's benefit of a fairer climate. I will not soon be missing the desert and it's… 'treasures'.” she says with disgust, glad to be out of the heat herself.
[Gair]
“If only Bahamut and that fuckin' moon saw fit to make Coerthas a desert instead, I'd hate the place just a little less,” Gair's offhand drums the pommel cap of his falchion, somewhat antsy already to be done with an airship ride they have yet to even disembark on. Oddly enough, in spite of a budding spring shifting to summer in Thanalan, he shudders slightly and rubs at his forearm. “If anythin' Thanalan's got a bit of a chill of late.” It really hasn't, maybe the highlander is just broken.
[Luna]
“Gair!” she says sternly, glaring at the man as if he had offended her. She finishes adjusting her own weapon, bringing a hand up to gesticulate at the man as if mid-lecture. “There is no need to speak of such a tragic event like that! So many lives lost in the South. Besides, you need not dwell overlong in a place like Coerthas, Elezen women surely do not find themselves magnetized to you like so many Southerners.”
[Gair]
| As they speak, the La Noscean bound airship arrives at the platform. The usual bustle of people disembarking and goods being moved off of it occur and a line begins to form at the departure gate. |
Gair grunts and takes the beration for his inappropriate joke about the Calamity, eyes rolling as if he were still a teenager being chided by his mother. “Actually,” he starts, sidling into line himself. “Your noblewomen can't get enough'a this brutish charm. They spend all their lives tellin' folk what to do, bein' on top of the world. Get weak as all hell in the knees when a real man takes charge.”
[Luna]
Luna follows behind Gair, forming into the line efficiently as she looks up at the man. “My word, how I have always managed to resist such charms must be a miracle of the Twelve entirely.” she says, her voice laced in sarcasm as she rolls her eyes.
[Gair]
Gair snorts rather unattractively and suggests. “Halone must be a strong patron indeed.” Between his fingers, he presents a pair of tickets to the woman behind the counter for himself and Luna both. He casts his gaze over his shoulder as they are slowly ushered onto the airship, an easy smirk tugging at his lips. “Besides, you ain't exactly the prissy type. Even if you had a silver spoon for most'a your life.”
[Luna]
“Halone blesses me indeed, but i need not her boon to resist you.” she says with a sigh, continuing behind the man as she boards the ship alongside. “Silver spoon!? What silver spoon was I given other then to be beaten with!?” she asks, offended. She looks at the man with a light fury in her eyes.
[Gair]
“Sometimes the hand that feeds is also the hand that beats, many don't get a spoon,” Gair tells Luna flatly.
“Seems bein' hit with it did you plenty good anyhow.” He reaches a hand out to give Luna a friendly jab against the ribs with his fist. *Silly bitch, just take the backhanded compliment for once!* To show he meant only minimal offense, he turns to face her. Backpedaling onto the airship and waggling those thick furry caterpillars he calls eyebrows.
| “Mommy, what's that?” A small child insists and tugs at the skirt of their guardian, motioning up to the Sultana's Palace from the Ruby Road exchange on the ground level. |
| “What's what, sweetie?” She queries back, following their pointed finger. Awash with realization that the airship looms overhead at the apex of the palace, ready to receive boarders. “Ahhh, the airships, we can go see them after we've gone to market, little one.” |
| “No, I thought I saw a man!” The child whines, insistent. “He was going up the palace! Like WOOOSH and BAM, he jumped so high! He climbed onto the airship!” |
| The mother, more amused and utterly disbelieving this childlike fantasy, covers her mouth to stifle a laugh. “A little fibber there, aren't you? Seeing nonsense in the clouds.” |
[Luna]
Luna scoffs as she walks onboard. “Well, are I not blessed then, to have received both my salvation and my condemnation at the same time.” she muses in frustration. She visibly jumps at the friendly jab, though perhaps a bit less than usual given who the jabber was. She still glares at the man all the same. She sighs and rolls her eyes at the man as he waggles aggressively at her, but does not complain further *for now*.
[Gair]
Gair's left hand rests on the pommel cap of his falchion, adjusting the broad bladed sword on his belt idly. Still being rather flippant with the current topic at hand. “So, what's on the ledger for trainin' anyhow? We just gonna rip up your yard or actually grab a few bounties from the Maelstrom?” He queries and finds a railing on the main deck to lean up against as the crew finishes shoring up the remaining passengers and readying to shove off.
| Beneath the airship, an additional stowaway creeps among the hold. The animals in transport looking on curiously at the robed figure who shies from the odd crew member doing their respective tasks as they appear and return to the main deck. |
[Luna]
“We will not be damaging my yard. Anything you do to it you will be repairing by hand. No, we will see what the Maelstrom has need of, and failing that we will do endurance training in the ocean. And before we return, you will help me search the Limsan markets for this… 'plush toys' that the young Miss keeps requesting.” she says, coming to a stand next to the man on the rail, looking out over it. “I have acquired a Carbuncle plush here in Ul' Dah thanks to information given to me by Sir Xavier. Perhaps Limsa Lominsa will yield something as well.”
[Gair]
“You spoil that damn girl,” Gair tells Luna, not like he has any place to critique the woman- spoiling his own nieces rotten and being an utter doormat for those girls. A big dumb grin creeps across his features, there to stay for the moment. *Fucking Xavier, nice man…just terribly mundane, even as a Fist*. “Allied hunts it is, there's always some rogue warmachina or another lost in those rollin' hills.”
| Sitting on the nearby railing, Gair's inner shadow lingers. Black-clad and enjoying the view himself. With a voice that belongs to the highlander, he speaks to the man's mind. “She loves that girl, just as we do those kits. Even if she doesn't know it yet.” |
[Luna]
Luna seems to think about the man's statement for a moment. “Do you truly think so? I must admit, I find it difficult to resist her ridiculous demands. There is something in how she asks, or perhaps…. something further. I derive pleasure from seeing her elation.” the knightess muses, looking into the relatively grounded horizon in contemplation. She looks back up at the man after a bit. “Yes. We shall practice while also ridding the world of threats. As usual you may take my seals, I know naught what to do with them anyway.”
[Gair]
| The airship has since departed, Ul'dah slowly disappears over the horizon as they make for the west. Thanalan's sandy hills and sun-blasted plateaus roll by for the casual observer. |
| In Thanalan, men in robes were commonplace, Ossuary priests and travelers shielding themselves from the sun alike veiled themselves in voluminous clothing. One such figure emerged from the hold, moving with very clear intent toward Gair and Luna both. He would only be picked out of the crowd once he was already on them and not more than a few paces away. There he stood, his countenance completely shrouded by the hood of his robe. A gaze that was unseen, but tangibly felt as it flitted from Luna to Gair, silent as the grave. |
[Luna]
The woman pauses, turning her head to look behind her for a second before actually turning around completely. She looks at the robed man curiously. “Pardon citizen, is there aught we may do for you? I am afraid if your family is under assault or you lost your coinpurse, it will be most difficult to rectify given that we've now taken off, but I would still take notes for later.” she says, assuming the man had some mundane request for aid.
[Gair]
Gair regards the hood for a moment, thinking it better to let Luna handle the situation. His brow furrows toward the woman as she goes from assuming murder to common thievery. *How does she put on her shoes on the morning?* The highlander interjects now, seeing as how the robed figure is focused more on him anyway. “If you need the time, can always ask the-”
| Without warning or any regard for either's words, the robe lashes out mid-sentence as Gair begins to speak. Thrusting a knife-hand for Gair's face, his hand shrouded in a fell aura. His other hand making a grab for Luna's sword on her belt, intent to cast it into the crowd and out of her reach. |
Raw instinct is the only thing that keeps Gair from getting bad-touched, his hoplon raises to intercede the knife-hand. A groan of flesh and aether on iron carries over the deck as a gouge is ripped out of the shield, fortunately he avoided a blow that would have been most fatal.
[Luna]
The woman barely has time to react to the sudden action, instinctively taking a quick step back. She moves just out of the way to keep her weapon as her eyes flit to look at Gair. Without hesitation does she rush in to grab at the robed man's midsection, wrenching him back to pull him away from Gair. “Everyone move below deck! By order of the Holy See of Ishgard, take shelter!” she shouts to the other passengers.
[Gair]
| Not needing to draw a weapon to immediately threaten the woman making a grab for the him, the robed man immediately brings his body to bare with deadly precision. With the force of massive warhammers, he lashes into Luna's cuirass with his knees. Wham! Once. Wham! Twice. Intent on finishing the job, he makes another knife-handed thrust for Luna's exposed head! |
With a rasp of steel on wood and leather, Gair has freed his falchion and joins the melee. A shadowy aura already licking at his blade like blacked fire as he swipes it over Luna's back and toward the robed figure to intercede the knifehand. One fell looking power against another, the aether thrumming deeply with the clash that drives the robe from assailing Luna further.
| Onlookers watch on for the barest of moments, not quite believing what they're seeing break out before them. Luna's voice finally rousing them from their stupor, some deckhands taking refuge. The bolder ones lingering on the peripheral, unarmed and unarmored, waiting for an opening that may never come. |
[Luna]
The woman grits her teeth at the superhuman force assailing her plate, but aside from some lost wind is able to shrug it off. The threat deflected for the moment, she disengages and draws her own sword and shield. She raps the blade against the shield held high, calling out further to the riders. “Do not tarry upon the deck, I implore you to retreat below!” She looks back towards the melee, holding her shield arm high as green aether begins to form around it. She throws it toward Gair, causing the aether to rush to the man's waist. It goes solid as it connects, creating a link between the two that slowly fades out of view.
[Gair]
“Got a problem with a Flame, do ya?!” Gair demands of the robed man, furious and excited all at once now. *Least folk are off the deck, lets bleed this fucker!* Like a gong, he crashes the flat of his falchion on the rim of his hoplon. An unnatural amount of sparks showering from the blade from a simple clash on his own steel. All the same, he barrels toward the target with reckless abandon- what with Luna's aetherial cover. His falchion flashes through the air to make a diagonal cut, the shield following up soon after with a vicious jab.
| The hood's gaze follows the green link that ties Luna and Gair together even after it fades from view. With a firm hand, his right catches the highlander's sword-bearing wrist. Their left roaring with inky black aether to slam a rough right hook right into Gair's lightly armored ribs! A momentary flash of confusion is awash in the figure's body language as his target doesn't so much as flinch at the blow. Red mist begins to rise from the robes now as he now makes a grab for that invisible thread. The green tendril of aether between them fades back into sight and recoils with it's severing, a grip like a pair of aetheric shears! |
[Luna]
The knightess holds her shield high as she slowly advances on the fray, though she barely makes more than a couple steps before pain rushes into her ribs. She instinctively clutches with her sword arm while still keeping the shield raised, doubling over a bit and straining an eye closed as the pain spreads. She continues her advance but once more does she find her progress halted as the robed man severs the link prematurely. She halts, doubled over further as the sudden loss of aether, awash with a strange empty sensation for a second. Finally does she manage to act, rushing as best she can with her own shield swipe aimed at the man's head.
[Gair]
Gair growls out in pain just from the touch of the robed figure. “HYEEEAREGH!” He lets out, ripping his sword-bearing arm back to no avail. The robed man has an iron grip that does not relinquish easily. *He can soul eat?! Fuck!* There is a desperate attempt made to beat him away, going low for the gut as Luna charges forward to swipe his head with her shield. On breaking away, he pushes the robe's flank in an attempt to take advantage of their number's advantage. His falchion lofted forward to threaten his immediate space. An odd scent of forge-hot iron joining the fray, so many thousands of feet in the air.
| With the robed figure utterly preoccupied with his grip on Gair, both of their shields land true! A meaty thud confirms the blow as the flat of her heater slobberknocks his head, blowing back the hood only momentarily to show a stubbly and squared jaw. The rim of his solid steel hoplon slamming into his gut more like a punch. His grip falters and he finds himself flanked, but no less in control than before. Like a deadly dancer, he weaves and ducks the highlander's falchion without even looking in his direction. With a whirl, he lashes out a heavy kick toward Luna. To Gair, his palm flashes near-white before an inky black pulse of aether shoots toward him! |
[Luna]
Dragged practically by the momentum of her own shield at this point, she has little chance to move before the kick lands true. The strike rings against her cuirass, the impact amplifying the residual pain from the transferred wound and causing her to back up for a moment. She sees the strange aether sent Gair's way and is unable to help, opting instead to two-hand her sword and attempt to drive the blade toward the robed man's leg, hoping to disable.
[Gair]
Gair's perforated hoplon is raised to weather a majority of the blow, but through the cracks and holes some of that aether carries through to batter his arm and chest with that life-draining force. He lets out a loud howl at the pain, an ever-present scowl on his features as *something* dawns on him. With a metallic clatter on the deck he abandons the wrecked shield and dances back a few paces toward the railing. “Oh, you want the rest, do you? Come and get it!” Like a match he strikes his falchion on the iron railing, a flash of sparks precedes the full ignition of his weapon: true fire to accompany the fell aura around his blade.
| With great effort from Luna, the blade plunges through what one might assume is their thigh. Sinking in a few generous ilms, but eerily they do not shudder from the pain, they vocalize nothing and more importantly: they do not bleed. Hindered only mechanically by the wound, they instead attempt to use Luna's sword as a pivot point. Jumping up off their uninjured leg to twist their body horizontally with the ground, wheeling the backside of a shadow-wreathed foot for the side of Luna's head. |
| By now, the alarum on the airship has been signaled. A fantasy-style klaxon drones as the melee rages on and the airship begins to make a rapid descent. |
| A rather dopey looking black feathered head pokes up from the stair well of the hold. Curiously scanning the breadth of the deck before the bright and shiny sword catches his eye. An audible, “Kweh, kweh!” is let out. |
[Luna]
The woman is caught off-guard by the lack of visible effect from her strike. Even Dravanians writhe in pain when you stab them. She's thanked for her surprise by a kick to the side of the head, harshly knocking her away from the man and her sword as she careens into the deck of the airship. She cries out in sudden pain as the force rocks her head. The mixture of concussive force suffered earlier, her transferred wound, and now being practically roundhoused in the side of the head by an otherworldly being stuns her, a large heap of concussion and metal crumpled on the deck for now.
[Gair]
*Fuckin' hell, we're gonna have to settle for a draw of some sort.* Even as impressive as Gair's lightshow is, the flame on his sword flickers and wavers like the dying tail of a Charmander. The sight of the senior knight being grounded was one part infuriating, and two parts demoralizing. On heavy footfalls he barrels in to even the score, blade and fist wielded in equal measure. A lash of his own bad touch veiled by the trail of a flaming sword, tracing brilliant arcs with every flourish and exchange.
| Effectively charged off of Luna and occupied with his quarry, the robed man furiously retaliates in kind. Every fell strike landed on Gair is returned with the bite of a falchion or his own draining strike. Their shared vitality waning and surging with every landed strike, like an elaborate game of hot potato: but each one wants that burning legume for themselves. The figure's robes begin to tatter and fray at the edges to show glimpses of his limbs: sinewy, thin and without skin, like so many cuts of meat from the butcher. |
| Gust chitters defiantly as he watches Luna fall, they aren't supposed to go down! They beat master up all the time! “Wark, wark!” On a large set of raptor legs, the chocobo pads onto the deck to drag Luna away from the melee with his massive beak. Insistently nudging the woman, stop sleeping! |
[Luna]
The nudging from the savior birb works to bring Luna out of her momentary stun as she slowly pushes herself up. Dazed, she looks at the Chocobo in front of her, then past to the fray. She finds herself somewhat shocked by the figure's condition, but she does not let it slow her. She pushes herself to a stand and pats Gust on the head quickly before rushing into the fray once more. She puts her blade in front of her, aim set to spear the man in the back.
[Gair]
Gair's face is more than a little swollen after having taken his share of hooks to the chin, the blade of his falchion akin to a torch on it's last legs. His tunic is ripped on his left shoulder, a slightly darker red hue dampening the rusty red cloth. Wishing he had worn some actual armor about now, he grits his teeth and makes ready to press the assault as Luna charges in to spear the man. Aiming to bring that falchion right through the robed man's neck, steel howling through the air!
| Thanalan is really, really close now. The plateaus are moving by even faster with the relative distance completely diminished. Now skirting the Sagolii desert, it's rolling hills sand like golden waves in the glistening sun. |
| The robed man isn't having exactly the best of days, as well as he is doing against the underprepared duo of Luna and Gair. His preoccupation with trying to land the last hit on his quarry opens him up to the point of Luna's arming sword, laboring to score what would be a telling blow on any mortal man. A veritable one-two punch with Gair's falchion biting true for the most part, the last of the fire licking up onto the hood of his robe as it slides by their neck! To his assailant's disappointment, he keeps his head. |
| Opting to not linger for caution of further retribution, the hooded figure writhes on the blade and thrashes against his impalement. With a surprising amount of strength in his slashed neck, he lashes out to award Gair with a vicious headbutt before he runs roughshod over him toward the railing. Still maintaining the dexterity to hop on gingerly, he whirls around to face his assailants. Thanalan's hot winds whip up and catch the tattered and burned hood, pulling back the veil for the duo to see clear as day. Uncannily, he bears the countenance of the Gyr Abanian among them. Gair's face impossibly plastered to a tall and thin humanoid wrought of flesh from myriad sources. |
| “You…” The hooded horror bearing Gair's face lifts a meaty finger to indicate the original. “You will return it.” He demands in parting before he leans back and takes a tumble off of the railing, a leap of faith into the sands below. Gone like so many grains of sand. |
[Luna]
The woman is pulled along for but a moment with her blade, thankfully removing itself. She feels back with the sudden detachment, pleased with its effect but the feeling is short-lived. She stares up at the revealed face, awe-struck. She looks between her battered friend and the otherworldly for a couple times as if confirming in her head what she is seeing, but is still completely taken aback. She barely even reacts to the man vanishing from sights still preoccupied with the apparent impersonation. After the chimera leaves does she finally move to her friend, offering conjury to dull the pain. “Gair… You saw that, yes?” she asks while placing a warm healing hand on the man.
[Gair]
Gair caught the headbutt and the knee to the chin as he was run over, knocked right onto his ass with the robed man's sudden retreat. He scrambles to a knee first, then to his feet with a steadiness of his usual bar crawls. *That's not us.* He stares long and hard at the robed man wearing his face. Rather than outright surprise or horror reflected in his narrow gaze, there is more outright confusion. Just watching the robed doppelganger drop off of the airship's railing and staring out into the open air long after. Luna's hand and voice rousing him, he jumps in fright at her sudden presence. “Fuck.” Is all he can manage at this moment in time between ragged breaths.
[Luna]
Luna does not startle as the man is caught unaware, merely continuing her conjury. “What have you done that such a doppelganger might exist? Is this related to your La Noscean patrols?” she asks, moving her hand to his head to administer aetheric aleve. Her focus is entirely on her healing work now, ignoring any citizens wandering out of the hold.
[Gair]
“Ain't done shit,” Gair mutters, waiting a moment before he jerks away from the healing touch. The extent of his damage being a few bruises and one laceration over his left shoulder. “I had to put down a poor sod who was lettin' off a weird red mist like this bastard. Except he was just a poor addled dockworker and not…whatever in the fuck this was.”
[Luna]
The woman draws back as he removes himself from her conjury. She looks at him curiously as he mentions butchering some poor dockworker. “What? When was this? You have never mentioned it to me.” she asks. After a moment she looks back out in the direction the entity had retreated. She turns back to Gair to ask of him, “What was that? That was not the usual bandit.”
[Gair]
“A fornight ago, thereabout?” Gair shrugs toward Luna, evidently not finding the news to share all that important. “It was just guard work, didn't think it all that important to share. Wasn't exactly a pleasant memory.” To her question, he can only shake his head in answer to the knightess. “Your guess is as good as mine, all I know is I feel this ain't the last I've seen of that fucker.”
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