Auron
Lvl 2
This is your story now.
Posts: 136
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Post by Auron on Nov 4, 2007 13:48:20 GMT -5
Auron stood before the entrance to the very exquisite looking Fayth chamber. The entrance itself was the same as always, foreboding but still enchanting to the perceiver. Bevelle's lies might come to fruition after Auron spoke to the Fayth that drew Bahamut to Yuna, and maybe something more. A strange feeling clung to him, that if he was able to communicate with the Fayth, that sometime later, he too may become able to summon such a magnificent beast...but it would no doubt take lots of time. He entered the holiest of places in all of the Yevon territories, the Chamber of the Fayth. Perhaps he would get answers he never imagined for, perhaps not. He could not hope to tell what lie before him in this magnificently designed structure. He sat himself down before the great, see-through substance that kept the fayth preserved, and the song of the Fayth rang through his ears. He put his hands together, and began to speak, a chant of sorts, but one that he could only hope would force the Fayth to appear to him. "O ye of the Fayth, I call upon ye to associate with ye. I would appreciate the assistance of one as powerful as ye. I plee with ye, heed my cry, and show thyself to me!" Auron could only wait now. He sat, rigid and still, breathing calmly and evenly, as he awaited a response. ((Welcome aboard Baha. As you can probably tell, Auron could use your help Aerith, if your reading this, please note that I'd like Auron to start as a white mage...for reasons you can probably guess, but if not, I'll tell you in a PM later. Right now, I'm off to bed. Night! Slight modification, thanks Alex ))
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Post by bahamut on Nov 6, 2007 13:39:39 GMT -5
It had been a normal day. Bahamut had been relaxing, imagining for the hundredth time how neat it would be to go on another adventure like the hundreds he'd already had. He was also idly wondering what his next summoner would be like... though he bet it would be an old man again. They always seemed to be the ones to get this far... and they always were so.. stuffy.
Then, he heard the call rom someone who had entered his room. The voice was definitely male, and the demeanor and style with which they spoke... it most certainly indicated an old person. Darn it all... Slowly he peeked out. True, the guy's hair was greying and everything... but...
"You're dead." he said shortly, appearing before the man. "You've got the same scent as an unsent... why are you here?" He was hovering a short ways off the ground, so as to be at the same height as whoever this intruder was. "More importantly... why's the dead asking for the help of the dead? Isn't there a farplane you should pass on to or something?" His language, at least, should have passed on at least a hundred years ago... it's so forced. Even despite a thousand years... the King of Dragons still was a twelve-year old at heart, it seemed.
((Thanks for the welcome... I'll see what I can do. Hopefully I don't screw everything up too badly!))
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Auron
Lvl 2
This is your story now.
Posts: 136
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Post by Auron on Nov 8, 2007 10:01:10 GMT -5
Auron remained composed towards the Fayth's attitude. He had every right to be grouchy, if nothing else. A smirk crossed his thin lips, and he bowed slightly. He had to at least appear humble, that was, if he wanted to get anything from this mighty Aeon.
"Bahamut? The Dragon King, correct?" he asked, fondly announcing the Aeon's title.
"I have come, for two reasons. One. Answers. And secondly, to gain you as an ally. A comrade." he was blunt, direct and straight to the point, straight off the bat. He couldn't afford to waste time.
"If you don't mind, explain why the Aeons, such as yourself had to be mere tools, in the fighting of Sin? Why was it required of someone to become an Aeon, and then, as the Final Aeon of any summoner's Pilgrimage, sacrifice themselves, and they're summoner? What was so important, that Yunalesca had to strike me down when I was the only one to survive, and discover the truth? There's more...isn't there?" he began to feel angry. His being revived after finally leaving Spira behind, would mean that Sin still lived. But he witnessed, and participated in the fight with Yu Yevon, he that which the Yevonite's so willfully followed as a God, when his only purpose to to earn reverance amongst mortals.
The rage that that truth brought about, was over-coming Auron. He'd died not just once, but twice...and again, he lives another life.
"I have many questions mighty Aeon, but this one I ask now. Will you allow me to become your summoner, at least, for now, so I have someone to assist me in combat? I need to work things out, and can't do it...alone. Wait, that gives me another question...where are Tidus, Yuna, and the others?" the scarred man, the unsent was completely in the dark as to what had happened, and he had a sixth sense of sorts...this world...didn't feel like Spira. Bevelle may be in it, but Bevelle, and anything else, would probably seem, very out of place.
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Post by bahamut on Nov 8, 2007 18:27:34 GMT -5
As the old-timer went on his well rehearsed rant made primarily of questions and anger, Bahamut took a moment to clear his head. He was angry mostly over Sin's inevitable rebirth, and that he'd been killed by Lady Yunalesca. Oh, and maybe that Sin was a god that reincarnated itself over and over by taking control of the summon that both summoner and aeon had given up their life for, however, he was wrong about one thing. "We're not meant as tools to fight Sin. As you'll note... none of the summons are strong enough to fight him. We're basically just practice for a summoner so that they can use the power of the final aeon. Even though it costs them their life..."
He pauses a moment, eyeing the would-be summoner as he made his plea. "Huh... you're just a beginner. Someone like you can't handle the raw power of the king of dragons. The strain would kill you." It occured to him that the person he was speaking to was already dead, and twice over. "...Again. For the third time," he added quickly, to amend his statement. "There's a good reason I'm the final aeon before going to find the final aeon. There's a lot of power in the emotions of a child... the same power that fuels the aeon itself. You need to start in Besaid.. and to do the pilgrimage like every other summoner before you, to learn to channel and control your emotions, and to work with those of your aeons."
He pauses for a second, before continuing. "Well. That's what I'm supposed to say. But... I've been asleep for far too long. I want to wake up. If you're going to fight Sin, I'll help you."
Besides... he knows the crybaby from our dreams... I wonder how he's doing now?
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Post by Aerith Gainsborough on Nov 23, 2007 22:46:16 GMT -5
((Sorry, Auron. It's been two weeks and we've bought you and Baha all the time we can. By all rights, we should've passed you on the way out, but we're going to go ahead that Auron is somewhere in the Temple, but no longer in the chamber. I'm sorry, but it's been two weeks.))
The doors slid shut behind the three. It wasn't closed in a purely physical sense, no, there was a quiet humming barrier that sealed over the stone portal. It was quiet, save for the chanting. Aerith's soft boots made little noise. Neither did the men's. Always practical, Aerith noted as she glanced at their boots. Soldiers were always practical. The tunnel opened suddenly to a small room completely empty save for a glowing glass dome set in the center of the room. She stopped. Only the summoner was allowed here. She shouldn't have brought the men inside, but they were here.
"Wait here and watch the door," Aerith whispered. It wasn't an order, but instructions. Again, this was something she had to do alone. Leaving the two at the threshold, she stepped to the point of the glass.
It was a familiar sight: countless knees had rubbed a hole in the stone. The altar in the City had looked like this. The same weight of age and tradition stained the stones; the same supplicants garbed in silks and linens, or wool and flax polished the stones with tears and bleeding knees. No, her destiny hadn't changed, not beyond these silken robes and elaborate religious trappings. She knelt down, her knees found the impression on their own, and closed her eyes.
No, nothing had changed. The world, or this compressed world, whatever Xenos called it, faded into the background and all that remained was the boy and his singing. Aerith lost herself in the melody, diving down and soaring with the notes nto the heart of the Planet.
No.
She listened.
Spira. Spira sang with a hundred voices. She dove deeper. The words made no sense, but the thought that was Aerith was used to not understanding. Planets thought differently from the living: longer and more meandering. She prayed and listened. The current of the music swept her deeper, into a place she could see behind her eyes. Those dancing iridescent orbs were here. The whole space was full of their sweeping currents. Aerith sighed. It was like home here. She allowed herself a moment to bask in the beauty and familiarity of the area before moving on.
This "Spira" was used to people addressing it, first. Her Planet simply spoke and she listened. Aerith's thoughts condenced as she reached for her voice. She sent out, first, a tentative questioning thought. It was a whisper in a noisy room. If she wasn't in prayer, she would've frowned and pursed her lips. Instead, she brought her thoughts together once again.
She almost sent out some 'O great summon of Bevelle, I entreat ye' but she caught herself. That was silly and unnatural. Enough with the formalities.
"Spira!" Aerith called. "I am searching for the Summon of Bevelle."
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Post by bahamut on Nov 24, 2007 11:24:08 GMT -5
It had become uncommon for the King of Dragons to even get one visitor over the course of any given day--aside from the servants who were in charge of makingg sure his room was clean, of course. However, today was definitely unusual. Earlier, that grizzled old man had come in, and more recently--was that really Sin he felt? He had to admit, being more-or-less stuck to a fayth was a really annoying way to go about doing things. Couldn't they at least give him some sort of motorized scooter, so that he could investigate things without having to rely on people to ferry him the news already? But then, he knew what the response would be if he said anything like that. 'The Fayth is fragile, and if it's broken, you'll be erased from existance...' he repeated in his mind, before turning his attention towards the slight nagging that meant someone was trying to call him forth. He appeared before her... and froze.
I... know her... but, how? He couldn't deny it-he'd seen her before somewhere, but try as he might he couldn't remember how or where. "You called," he replied in a short, accusatory manner. "So then, that means you're looking for me. I am Bahamut, the aeon of Bevelle."
Why did he just say that? He wasn't supposed to tell them his name, they should already know it. Even the old man from before had been clever enough to know his name beforehand. But just the same... he felt like this girl had some reason not to know. There was something about her. He couldn't place his finger on it, but she seemed otherworldly. At the same time... she didn't seem to be like someone from the dream either. With a great mental 'Bleh!' he decided to simply cut to the heart of the matter all at once. "Where do you hail from, summoner?"
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Post by Aerith Gainsborough on Nov 27, 2007 1:23:21 GMT -5
((cool))
Aerith was taken aback. This child? Bahamut? But however ridiculous that sounded, she could somehow sense the immense power radiating from the small form. Images meant little when communing with the Planet, or with the spirits residing there. She remembered Elmyra's husband when he relayed his message. He appeared as he viewed himself: strong and in the prime of health, though his body lay in a ditch in far Wutai. The same could be said of this youth.
Her hesitation stretched into shocked silence. Sure, Bahamut's materia was usually with Vincent, Aerith had carried the orb several times. That wasn't counting their travels in this world. Xenos's world, or if he was to believed, Ultimecia's world. Aerith reigned her thoughts back together. "I'm from Midgar, Bahamut. My mother was Ifalna of the Cetra." Would that be enough? If he didn't remember her, maybe the Bahamut of Spira didn't know about the Cetra. If Xenos was right, as he'd been so far, she might have to be a little more specific. Or less specific. "I only recently came to Bevelle and met Maester Seymour." 'Met' was probably the nicest way to put it, but antagonistic words like 'kidnapped by' might be dangerous. "We've traveled together before, once home on my Planet of the Lifestream." Would that be enough? Cloud once said that Sephiroth called the Cetra 'itinerant', traveling from Planet to Planet. But, then again, Sephiroth was ...batshit crazy. Either way, speaking of her world as somewhere far removed was a bizarre feeling. She shook the feeing off. "The second time was here, though he claimed to be from..." Squall's world. Xenos's world. No... "the world of Sorceresses."
Aerith was getting that feeling in her stomach again, that gnawing dread that maybe Xenos's story was true. Completely. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She was kneeling in a strange temple at the foot of a great glass dome and wearing ceremonial robes, after all. She was speaking to a child who was Bahamut in a lifestream of iridescent lights and fireflies.
Time to test Xenos's story. It was a dangerous bait, one that would send these creatures of the Lifestream into a fury. But only if he knew about her world. She took a mental breath to steady her nerves, then she asked, "Bahamut, do you know of the ShinRa?"
((The Space Nomadic Cetra is a theory that has been thrown into the "bad translation" file, but since it's terribly convenient to have the CENTRA in VIII... I don't know if we want to make them one and the same race. That and the (COMPLETE BS) stuff about Spira and the Planet being the same... though this is only claimed in the sequels that aren't considered part of the FFI backstory. Excepting the Spira = Planet theory, we could still work with the Cetra = Centra theory. Whaddya think about that?
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Post by Alexander THE GIRL on Nov 27, 2007 3:33:51 GMT -5
((Just double-checking: Did you mean "Excepting" or "Accepting"? Also, what is the Spira = Planet theory?))
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Post by Aerith Gainsborough on Nov 27, 2007 22:41:23 GMT -5
((Except. Not Accept. The Spira = Planet theory claims that Spira is the far past version of the Planet. This is proven through Shinra (X2)'s suggestion that they could use pyreflies and the ...lifestream equivalent as an energy source. Also, the Shera (Dirge of Cerberus) was unearthed from a far past society... like the Al Bhed when they dug up their airship. I was very happy living in a world where Highwind could, you know, build and repair airships...
Wiki:
While I wholeheartedly agree that there are eerie similarities between the two worlds, I don't see how the ShinRa line could be this one. Unless they're secretly Cetra under the Space Nomad theory, but then... @.< I've got a headache))))
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Post by Alexander THE GIRL on Nov 28, 2007 1:22:59 GMT -5
((Oh, I remember that. Crazy old Nojima, connecting the games like that. Although I thought that theory suggested that Shinra's descendants eventually traveled to The Planet and start Shinra Co.
As for the Cetra? Hell if I know. Maybe Shinra's space explorers and the Cetra are two different races that coincidentally look alike? I blame Nojima. He's clearly not finished with this theory of his. He should have waited before it was more fleshed out before letting everyone know about it.))
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Post by Aerith Gainsborough on Nov 28, 2007 2:38:14 GMT -5
((Hey, Nojima, eat more Cracker Jacks!))
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Post by Xenos on Nov 28, 2007 11:51:02 GMT -5
((Haha))
Xenos frowned and fell back behind Aerith. She said to guard the door, so guard the door was exactly what he was going to do. He fell quiet and adjusted his stance, the weight of his body shifted from one foot to the other and he went still. He closed his discoordinate eyes and slowly exhaled.
He could feel the room around him. It hummed with song, strong and old.... but young. Xenos was the same. This song was older than him -- ancient in comparison, despite his compressed state-- but Xenos could feel his age down to his bones. Each moment, each agonizing moment eating away at his body and at his mind was very clear and still very real. He remembered the itch of his scars at the castle. They were spreading. He was aging.... but physically, despite the inky darkness stretching out over his face, neck, chest..... he was the same. Unyielding. Unshaking.
Unchanging.
This room was filled with that feeling. It was familliar. He could almost put his finger on this childishness. It was a time long passed.
He inhaled, long and more slowly than before.
This place was like a place inside of him, somewhere locked away in his mind. There was a little space cleared out of this feeling. In a way, this was home. This jealous, naive place full of torment and of cynical breath and weight was as much a part of him as the scar (currently pleased with its new conquest of bodily territory).
Xenos was home in a foreign place, but there was something terribly wrong with that. There was a nagging in his mind where memory ceased.
GF.
The man opened his eyes. There was someone on the other side of the door. "Squall," Xenos whispered and eyed the door as he drew Chirijiraden with a long, smooth motion.
More than anything, he had to protect THIS sorceress while he could.
Before his illness took all of his chances from him.
((I hope this was okay. I did something that I normally don't do with Xenos. It's very rare that you get much insight into his thoughts.... I'll never do any actual internal script, but still.... I hope it turned out okay. Seymour, I think it's good for you to enter once Squall gets over her food poisoning and is able to post. :-O Get better, Squall!!! ))
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Post by Aerith Gainsborough on Nov 28, 2007 15:44:01 GMT -5
((I wonder if this is what the Final Aeon feels like during the 10 years of Calm while Yu Yevon makes a new home...))
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Post by bahamut on Nov 29, 2007 0:12:06 GMT -5
"I'm from Midgar, Bahamut. My mother was Ifalna of the Cetra."
"I've never heard of ShinRa..." Bahamut heard himself respond, as he tried to figure this puzzle out.
Midgar. Well, that more or less confirmed it. There wasn't a place named even close to Midgar in all of Spira. The girl couldn't be from this world. Beyond that, she'd spoken with two different other hims... well, that would certainly fit. "I take it, then, that this isn't the first world you've traveled to. This... Squall from the world of Sorceresses... This is not that world. It's not your word, too. You're in Spira... a world tormented by an ever-reincarnating, ever-destructive entity known as Sin. I suppose I need to explain a few things to you. Tell me, do you even know what an Aeon really is? Do you know what you're speaking with right now... or what the swirling balls of light around me are?"
He casually shakes his head, before looking at her. "That you can even talk to me without knowing any of that... that's fairly impressive. Tell me about your world and your 'Cetra...' and I'll tell you all about that in return. Does that sound fair, Miss..."
He paused, suddenly and acutely aware that he had never learned the girl's name. "Miss... Lady... Ma'am. Also, tell me your name. That's a good place to start."
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Post by Aerith Gainsborough on Nov 30, 2007 1:25:18 GMT -5
If Aerith had been awake, she would've flushed with shame. Who's to say that her mental projection didn't. "My name is Aerith Gainsborough, and I am the last Cetra." She took a breath. This would be the second time she'd relayed her race's history in the past day. It was something she usually kept pretty quiet, what with the ShinRa after the Ancients. This Spira and its people seemed slightly obsessive about the past.
"I don't know anything about Spira, although it reminds me of home. Maester Seymour told me some about Sin, though I haven't seen it myself." She sighed. "It almost reminds me of my mother's stories about the Weapons.
"We Cetra are the guardians of the Planet. Well, we used to be, about 2000 years ago. My ancestors were nomads, never staying in one place long enough to damage the Planet. We are the only people who can hear the voice of the Planet. Then the Crisis from the Skies crashed and left a great wound on our Planet, at what we call the Knowlespole at the top of the world. We heard the Planet's cry, and tried to heal it. And then he came, the shapeshifter and body thief. He infected our people and turned them into monsters. He posessed the bodies of those who had died. My mother always said he looked like our dead mothers and dead brothers. The Planet had been trying to tell my ancestors to leave to protect us, but they were too late. Our race was almost destroyed. With its guardians almost dead, the Planet created the Weapons to protect itself. They were never awakened. The remaining Cetra were able to capture the Crisis and lock it away in the frozen north.
"A group of scientists found the Crisis and unearthed it. She was named Jenova and mothered Sephiroth." Saying that name left a bad taste in her mouth.
Aerith watched the lights float in the ether for a moment, quiet and thoughtful. "These lights, they remind me of the Lifestream... the spirit of the Planet. When we die, we return to the Lifestream." Her heart felt heavy and lonely. She missed her mother and her wisdom; but she'd returned to the Lifestream many, many years ago.
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