for whom weeps the storm her tears on our skin

[hoshikiri]

WHO: Takame and those who went after him
WHERE: The MetaVerse - Castellum Mortua
WHEN: Beginning 4/4
WHAT: A rescue party for Takame trapped in his dungeon
WARNINGS: Massive spoilers for Shadowbringers and Endwalker, combat heaviness, allusions to human experimentation, suicide ideation, child abuse, debilitating injury, self harm, light body horror, ptsd, severe paranoia, death, blood, light gore and a hell of a lot of violence.



Castellum Mortua - Entry
cw: allusions to human experimentation, suicide ideation



"Nos summus manus, Nos sumus deus. We are the Hand, We are the God."

♪ - Alienus

Such was the declaration heard upon entering the Spirit Realm that held Takame. Nonsense words for the uninitiated. That is, if they weren’t coming from Takame’s voice. The motto of the nation of Garlemald uttered with a pride never displayed before.

The inside of the dungeon was a seemingly endless path with yet more corridors and faceless automatons passing between them. On occasion they would salute one another, every five passers by as if on routine. Every step taken would echo against the steel blue floor and walls painted with the ivory standard over what was once one the color of a sprawling field.

Barriers that would otherwise prevent a fall into the Spiritual Abyss were left with scratches from an incredibly potent blade and burns that only had the memory of warmth to the touch. Signs of combat long passed.

There were options to proceed. The soldiers along the path before you were no more than cannon fodder, sheeps to the slaughter.

Nothing is even a challenge to break anymore.

Your thought? Or the voice?

The combat capable with incredible stamina could fight their way forward. For a while they would seem to keep coming without end. From capsules lining the walls of each corridor, smoke is released and unspeakably horrific creatures emerge and add to the numbers. Not far from the capsules, there are people in chains without faces, many protesting and falling to their knees and begging to not be put "there". Try as you may, you cannot save them from being forced into the capsules, drained of every shred of life right before your eyes and joining the many numbers of monsters and soldiers assaulting you.

It wouldn’t take too long before you overwhelm them and move on. But that also risks you running out of steam before the race even began.

Or maybe the rush of battle will empower you?

Give me something to live for. Give me the only purpose I have. I'd rather be dead without it.

(OOC Note: As you proceed in this log, fighting will buff you where avoiding fights will make you more exhausted. No abilities will be disabled, but they will be much less potent. Not only that, Shadow Takame will react to you differently depending on how much you've fought throughout the log, be it with more respect or hostility. Keep this in mind as you go on!)


Castellum Mortua - Vents
cw: depictions of child abuse both emotional and physical



♪ - Fakery Way

The keen eyed, or considerate of the non-combat capable, may look to their flanks where boxes of supplies are stacked on top of each other. Something is on the ground next to them, charged with aether. A Gunblade cartridge.

Could it have been left behind by Takame?

The boxes are climbable, and looking up there is an accessible vent that connects… somewhere. Large enough to fit a few people as the facility seems to be fairly sizeable. If one wanted to take a stealthy route, they could climb through the vents.

But the further along they go, they’ll feel a sense of apprehension. Of agitation.

"Van, for a Legatus." A young boy's voice recited. "Tol, Tribunus laticlavius. Sas... Tribunus angusticlavius or P... puruaefectus casutro--""
A striking sound cut him off.
"Your pronunciation is off again. We've been over this. Again." An older voice reprimanded.
"... Yes, father. I'm sorry father."
"Be correct, not sorry."
"... Yes, father. Sas, Tribunus angusticlavius or Praefectus castrorum. Rem, Primus..."

The vents will become hot to the touch to an unbearable degree like you're stepping on hot coals barefoot. The sense that you chose the wrong path will form deep in your heart even though logically, this path was sound.

Until multiple explosions go off after you make it.

And again, the voice will be heard upon exit and you'll feel like your motivation is being sapped away.

To fight is to be strong. To be strong is to live. To be weak is to be subjugated, then annihilated. Prolong it if you wish, the end is inevitable.


The Far Edge of Fate - Rush
cw: allusions to partial immolation



♪ - splash

No matter the route you take to go outside, you’ll find yourself still on a steeled bridge. But now steps between the paths taken have broken. Cracks form in the steel, dents that a feather’s worth of weight will cause to collapse, entire portions of the railings melted down or otherwise gone.

Where have the pieces gone? Floating in a dark, empty space that "outside" was. Where nebulous clouds and starless skies are all that’s visible if you look up. The deep purples and blues all around make visibility difficult aside from the occasional out of place pillar of light.

Though it would be more accurate to call it a failing lantern on its last legs before the flame fades.

Warrior of Light. Our Weapon of Light. I must fulfill my best use as such, I will never be human.

Looking back revealed the halls you just came from were now engulfed in flames. Combat was inevitable here. Unless you attempt to outrun the barrage of wyverns, bits and blackbirds that are coming at you from the sky, only to barely reach the end of your path, hopping along broken bridges, asteroids and debris and outrunning the falling ceruleum tanks exploding overhead.

"Leave him, he's nothing to us. If he can't be saved he can't be saved. There'll be more like him." An authoritative voice, somehow audible over the explosions.
"Commander, we can repair his...! He won't have feeling in it but please if we act now...!" The older voice from earlier.
"Throw him in the infirmary, then I want you find the savages that planted the explosives. That's an order!"

Run and run and run further away. If you don't the flames will catch up to you. No, in the end they will anyway. Run through the flames and you'll feel them ruin your body, scream in agony until you can't feel it anymore despite them leaving no trace on your body.


The Far Edge of Fate - Clash
cw: self harm, undetailed body horror

♪ - Ultima


At the edge of the straight path you'll find that a massive dark abomination, like something out of a nightmare, blocks it and will eliminate you if you don’t kill it.

There's a sound that came from it, a mechanical whirring that resembled a whimper. A thrumming like an unsteadily beating open heart connected by wire and aether.

The observant will note weaknesses in its frame. Its hands have digits missing, across its chest is a wide slash much like those at the entrance and electrical sparks went off around it. Whatever was once there won't be a problem for you.

"It could have been me. If the wheel of fate had turned differently, that could have been me activating Oversoul instead of..."
A loud swear in Hingan, or Japanese, followed by a slam, then the cracking of bone.
"Takame...!"
"I am fine. I am fine, Alphinaud. ... He saved you. I owe him."

The problem is, if the way you took was forward then there is no retreat. Your path behind you is gone, scattered to the depths of space. The arena you have to fight this monster is small. And the more you linger in fighting it, the more its overwhelming power closes the area in around you, surrounding the edges with magic that cuts through your skin, causing bleeding or burning that refuses to heal.

With all these factors at play, it could very much be your end long before you ever see Takame again.

Is there a way past it? To escape from this unwinnable battle? There was a space in the circle of fire where it was weak. And it led forward. Will you fight, riding the high of battle? Or will you flee and let it wither away?


The Sight of Sacrifice - Hollow
cw: ptsd, paranoia, death, undetailed gore



♪ - ridicule

If your preference is to try and run past it, you will be forcibly separated from the others. Where there is no combat there is deafening silence. Listlessness that will permeate your very soul. Emptiness as far as the eyes can see with no sign of your friends and slowly dampening motivation as your reasoning for being here in the first place leaves your mind.

The silence consumes your mind, entering it like water getting into your lungs. The more you struggle to swim away from the current of loss the harder it became to breathe. You are not supposed to be here, you had to be fighting. You chose wrong again. You made a mistake again.

You're being punished for it.

You have to be fighting. If you aren't you ought to be dead, you are about as useful as a corpse at that point.

The voice will also become more persistent.

Staying around long enough may get you a glimpse of a familiar horned figure. But something isn’t quite right.

What are my orders?

What have I done?

What are my orders

What are my orders

What are my orders

Why am I

Who

Tsurugi. Tsurugi. A blade. A blade. The Warrior of Light. The Warrior of Light.

Tread with caution. As you try to find the voice… or even remember yourself, the horned figure will be hovering over you, blade drawn and ready to strike if you don’t have help or defend.

He will disappear in a flash once spotted, but save for the silhouette, the most noticeable feature would be his glowing yellow eyes.

In the blackest darkness memories seem to fade more and more. In the winding dirt and shade the scent of blood is all you know and the rotted remains of corpses are everywhere you step. Most without faces, be they hidden or disfigured, some with clear expressions.

With signs of regret, fear, rage, agony. Even smiles that it only clawed at your consciousness to see. In your ears there are more voices and flies buzzing around the bodies despite you knowing there are none here.

"TRAITOR...! TRAITOR TO YOUR COUNTRY! A POX UPON YOUR NAME!"
"He's a monster...! A MONSTER...!"
"A smile better suits..."
"We did everything right... and still... STILL IT CAME TO THIS!"
"You... are... death."

But if you lose yourself. Find yourself alone on all fronts. Look to the light of the crystal. That which marks the Travelers sigil.

Something else known to be in Takame’s possession. The sight of the crystal will reignite your sense of purpose and reason and fill you with the determination to complete your quest.

It will guide you back to yourself. Will it bring you back to your friends? Will you find it before you forget everything you are? Or will death find you first?


The Sight of Sacrifice - Finality
cw: potentially intense violence

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I’ve told nothing but lies to weaklings who will perish in an instant.

I will never be human. I will never be truly capable of feeling, of thinking.

I will never be a man, only a war machine. I will never be a hero, only a failure whose actions bring more death.

I will never be worthy of his love.

I will never

be Takame Kesi.

Past the large enemy, or the sea of your own self doubt, you will reach the end. The end of what?

Everything.

♪ - the executioner



Just a void that seems to stretch into an eternal dark sky. At the end of it a figure stands. Clad in white, red and gold, a heavy cape with a high collar and a pervasive sensation of the void radiating from his person.

A turn of his head revealed it to be Takame, but not quite.

His hair was cut short, but there was no mistaking those scales and horns. His other most prominent feature, his green-teal eyes, were glowing yellow and on his face, his expression varied.

A twisted smirk if you went through every combat zone.

A disappointed, condescending pout if you did not. Regardless of his look, he greeted you thusly.

"Ah, ‘twould seem you’ve made your way to me. I’ve been waiting for so long that I almost broke this one." Stepping off to the side to gesture at the “one” in question, the real Takame laid. Bloodied and beaten on the ground, still breathing and conscious but no more than that. The armor he’d come in with was torn apart, his Gunblade thrown far behind him and his long hair matted and partially ripped out in the fake Takame’s hand.

Even still he managed some defiance.

"Do not… touch them…!" To which the Shadow responded with a kick that made him spit more blood.

"Will you stop me, Kesi? You who forgot our actions, who thought acting as if you were a person would erase how we helped crush Doma under our heel?" He turned to you.

"Who felt the most SATISFACTION in our battles with Zenos viator Galvus than any single event in our lives?!" He laughed, as if it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard. Takame didn’t, couldn’t, say anything. Either from his injuries or the fact that it was just… true.

"Even this foolish lot. Who are they to me but rats I can kill with a thought? 'Saviors'? You can’t save a machine that is long dead inside, waiting for a decent bout to be my resuscitation. "

(OOC Note: Shadow Takame will be NPC'd by me. Threadjacking within reason is still welcomed in it as are separate TL's, but when your characters get to this point this is where the paths taken throughout the dungeon will come into play. While he could potentially be talked down by certain people it is very possible for that your character will get hurt especially if they're not combat savvy. The extent of the injury is up to your discretion/comfort level.

Shadow Takame will not attack Yusuke Kitagawa directly under any circumstances.)

Comments

Vash the Stampede; cw: body horror, likely throwing up, probably

[doubledollar]

[☆彡☆彡Castellum Mortua - Entry - Open to Others]

[ he knew what he was getting into, here. going into the city the day before with his buddy Caesar, he'd even made the effort to stock up on extra bullets for the inevitable battle to come. He has them hidden now, in secret pouches all along a pure black poncho he's currently wearing, not at all looking like himself with a wide-brimmed cowboy hat and a red and gold flower-themed mask underneath. The only discernable feature that would let any of his friends know that it's Stampede they're fighting alongside is the fact that his left arm looks the same as it always does--wrapped up in black and brown leathers--except making it visually obvious when he raises said arm that it's fake--scarred around the base where the thing attaches to the place it had been severed many years ago.

The first 'monsters' he and any of his pals who have come into the dungeon together are to meet up with are those faceless, robotic automatons. And that suits Vash just fine--he has an extreme problem against killing anything that's living, but. There's a real difference when the enemies are just automaton that fizzle and pop when they're shot, expertly in the head with a .45 colt pistol with frightening precision.

For those who are more in tune with close-up combat, hand to hand or with a held weapon, Vash will provide keen backup, each bullet being like a shot out of hell to aid those he's allied with, whether it be just to help you out with a particularly difficult swarm of the robotic things as they start coming out in droves--or to catch one of the damn things as it tries to drive a gunblade through one of his allies' backs.

...The first part of the battle is easy. Are you here with him? Let's get through it together. ]

---

[ and it really is easy at first. Vash's confidence is high as the effects of the dungeon do indeed strengthen him the more of the automatons he helps his friends take out, but.

For those with him, the cowboy-looking man's aid will come to a hard stop when they bear witness to the creation of those monsters. The cries of the people being dragged into pods and transformed into hideous monsters is...
Enough to send the man into an apparent frenzy. He forgets trying to fight the onslaught of monsters, the automatons--as he desperately attempts to reach the chained people before it's too late.
Images of a girl, no older than ten years old flash through his mind--images of her being torn apart, bones exposed from limbs, wires attached to the back of her head, spilling out of her eyes--

Once he fails to save them, he's falling to his knees, tears pouring down his cheeks as he attempts not to let the contents of his stomach hit the floor. Hands over his head as he screams.

He really needs a hand, here. ]

[☆彡☆彡The Far Edge of Fate - Clash - Open to Others]

[ he has to keep going. He has to keep going, he can't let the images of this place, this shadowy dungeon made of false images and horrors stop him dead in his tracks just because he's seen something he'd rather not have.

This is the inner reflection of Takame's soul, he's coming to realise--and everything here is what his friend has been made to suffer. So he can't stop, he can't let his legs seize and his arms fall heavy until he's done what he promised: saved the man who he'd worked alongside for weeks now; who always seemed so quiet, lonely, and yet peaceful. Someone who he still hasn't managed to get to smile.

He can't give up, and that's why he finds himself in front of this behemoth creature that he can really only think of as some sort of dragon-centaur. The big, fourlegged body with a horrifying, but severely damaged torso atop of it. ...Another monster. But is it a monster like those ones back at the entry?
He has to steel himself. There's no escape here, just a small arena and those who are still with him; his gun in his hand, and fire in his throat. ]

There's no other choice but to fight.
The arena is breaking apart.

Whatever this thing is, it ... it needs to be put down.

Are you with me?

[ just look at it like it is. it isn't a human. it isn't a human, it doesn't have a blank ticket to the future that he can steal. it's blocking the way to his friend--the person who's future hasn't been decided yet.

Press forward. ]

[☆彡☆彡CThe Sight of Sacrifice - Finality - Mostly for Shadow!Takame, but feel free to come save him, he'll probably need it.]

[ he'd made it here.
Somehow, he'd made it to the end, and somehow, despite what few injuries he had, he could still stand.

However, things felt... different than when he'd first arrived.
Being that Vash isn't actually human, despite how he's been pretending to... everyone, so far, his strength is far greater than that of any humanoid. It had aided him in the fight against the automatons, it had aided him in being able to non-lethally deal with the twisted humanoids in the beginning. It had kept his feet moving and his gun in his hand up until now, as he stands before the twisted, dark version of his scaled friend--the real one bleeding on the floor below him, he feels so much weaker than he did in the beginning.

he hasn't figured out why, yet, either. Many times throughout the dungeon he'd desperately tried tapping into his strongest abilities, the power beyond the gate in his core--and even now, standing before the shadow Takame, there are strange, featherlike shapes lifting off his skin, like scales--like leaves, veined and white
But still he can't access it. Why. Why, out of all the times he desperately needs 'that' power, why can't he? ...Why won't it come? ]

Step away from him. You've done enough. What point is there in fighting a broken man who rests at your feet? It's cowardly to continue on.

[ Despite how desperate vash feels, he's trying to keep his voice even-keeled. Calm. ]

He can be saved. And that's what I'm here to do.
If it's a fight you want, I'll give it to you.

[ he may have been weakened by his decision not to fight those creatures in the beginning. But he's still stronger than your average warrior. He won't kill this shadow--but that doesn't mean he won't give his all to make him admit defeat.

to save his friend. ]

finality

[hoshikiri]

'Twas the only challenger I had before you lot arrived.

[Said like the most obvious thing in the world. What else was he supposed to do? Twiddle his thumbs? But indeed, Vash going through each encounter had Shadow Takame in a jovial mood so while he didn't step away, he did drop the chunk of Takame's hair he tore out in favor of drawing his blade.]

Will you offer me one, Ser Vash the Stampede? Show me your strength--! [The real Takame behind him looked up helplessly, unsure if Vash could fight at all let alone him at this level. He could say nothing as the Shadow lunged straight ahead in a flash and a wide blade swing.]

[doubledollar]

[ he'd love to show takame something, some expression that everything is going to be okay, or don't worry, we're here, see?

Something of the sort. But. Even without his angel powers, his other senses are screaming; the main message of them being to absolutely do not take your eyes off the other takame.
Seafoam-green eyes hard focus on the yellow-eyed man, all his pomp and circumstance, how he approaches with such bloodlust in his voice that the humanoid typhoon can almost taste it.

He barely has a second to think before that blade is coming at him.

His gun won't block it. He doesn't carry a weapon in his hands other than it. The blade is sharp, wickedly so--it'd cut through him like butter and leave him to bleed in an instant.
So what else is the typhoon to do but drop backward--kicking up those long legs of his as he pirouette-twists himself in front of the other, raising up a leg with a controlled swiftness, aiming to use the hard alloy of the bottom of his boot to parry the slash of his sword.

His gun follows, as he shoots a round--aiming at one of Takame's legs.

Always a non-lethal strike. ]

[hoshikiri]

[Not a word needs to be exchanged between the two. There was only the flow of the battle now.

The disengage into a parry successfully blocked the Shadow's blade, but that spurred him on more. Fully expecting a pistol to be brandished, the Shadow was quick on his feet to dodge but still managed to damage his armored boot.

This didn't stop the assault as a counter attack quickly followed in the form of consecutive, quicker than lightning slashes whose intent was to torture rather than kill.]

[doubledollar]

[ he has words to say. he has a lot of words to say, actually. throughout his battles through takame's palace, he's come to understand some things about the pale-scaled man; things that settled in his bones in a way that left him feeling like he knew why this twisted version of the man came to exist.

his leg aches as he pushes backward after that sword clanged against the armored plate at the bottom of his shoe. the blade had hit it hard, denting the hardened alloy in a way that was going to bother his foot for a while.
He couldn't rely on that as a means to block too many more times, he knows; but that doesn't mean he's going to coward out. his own bullet had hit, but the clang of metal told him it wasn't a strike that would do any lasting damage. shit.

He'd fought a man with a katana before, and while this shadowy Takame is nothing like Raidei, he at least knows what to expect.
He flips his gun around in his hand as those flurries of blows come in, one after the other, and he does his best to use the hardy gun to parry some of the blows, many of them glancing off the old but sturdy firearm--but just as many passing right through.

he's expert at dodging things. it was one of his most prideful skills: being shot at or having people try to strike him only for him to slip just out of range.
but there's something wrong with his body. he feels slower than he has any right to, and every time he adjusts his form to avoid that blade, narrowly, somehow it hits. every time, nearly.
leaving dozens of small, but painful cuts in places where his normally bulletproof coat would protect him.
His outfit here was doing him no favors, and soon the plain white shirt he was wearing had several red blooming patterns flowing out onto it.

like red geraniums. how fitting.

he can't get another shot in like this, not when he's focusing all his energy in parrying, in dodging. Desperately trying to activate his angel feathers again, those scales just shift along his face, nothing more. ]

Ta--

Takame, listen to me!

[ he's going to risk it--a swing of his pistol in the direction of the shadow's face. ]

cw dismemberment

[hoshikiri]

[Slowing already. How sad, and just from his Higanbana. And yet still it was fine sport.

It was getting into much closer range that was Vash's mistake. This was where Takame thrived, thus where his Shadow would as well. And it was that advantage that gave him the opportunity to aim right for that prosthetic arm so slice right at the bend and be rid of it.

The real Takame could only watch in horror as it happened. Even if he could plea to stop, he could barely speak with how much pain he was in.]

What a shame.

cw dismemberment

[doubledollar]

[ He has a plan. he knows getting in close is a bad idea, but even as a gunman, theres only so much he can do if his opponent is determined to close the gap between them. specializing in long range, but still able to fight in short, close quarters, if he could get takame around the head with his gun, it'd give him a moment to pull his ace.

there was only one person in kaisou who knew his left arm was fake, and it certainly wasn't takame. so as he swings in to pistol-whip the man with his large revolver, the wrist of his left arm spins.

fingers pulling back as the barrel of another gun almost

almost
makes its way out of his arm.

But he'd overestimated his own speed. He'd underestimated the speed of his opponent, and while his next trick would have been to rattle off a series of shots from his hidden gun.

Instead, his left arm explodes in blooming, electric pain as the blade of the man's sword bites true. tearing through leather and wire, metal joints and wrenching screws apart from the hook of his elbow, Vash can only scream in pain as the prosthetic is torn, cut and wrenched away from his body in one powerful slice.

sweat like bullets forming over his face as he tries to bite back the intense nerve pain as his body tries to understand what just happened--and how fast it happened, he's raising a leg again to kick at the man--

this time not to hurt him, but to get away.

he needs to get away, he needs to reevalute. shit. shit, this went wrong, far too fast.

help. he needs help. ]

[poisontippedcure]

[Rose isn't sure what to expect as she gets to the dungeon, but she doesn't expect to get there too late. She can only watch in horror as one of the shadow's swords slash through Vash's arm, separating it from his body. In battle, everything is decided in the time between seconds, and Rose doesn't have much time to decide at all.]

[Instinctively, she channels power from the small gem at her side and creates a large gust of wind to blow Vash towards her. Then, she channels what Holy magic she can to distract the shadow---briefly though it may be--while she rushes to Vash's side. There's no time for words as she holds her scythe in front of her, casting a healing spell. It won't fix the damage, but it might dull the pain.]

[monklookslikealady]

[Had Libra been expecting a fight? Yes. Had he expected to come around the corner and watch Vash have his arm ripped off by a shadow Takame? Not exactly.

But, that's exactly what he saw, followed by Rose pulling Vash out of range. Which gave him plenty of room to step between the two of them, pointing the axe he'd found at that Goodwill place directly at the shadow.]

I'm a healer. But.

It seems this axe will come in handy now.

[hoshikiri]

[Vash's attempt to knock the Shadow back succeeded, for a mercy. The wind was knocked well out of him thanks to the nature of his strength and his strong boot. Enough that he needed to recollect himself even.

Libra's met with a smirk once he's gotten back together.]

Will you be my next opponent? I do confess that I'd prefer a fellow "Warrior of Light." [Directed very pointedly at Rose healing Vash despite Libra standing before him.]

[doubledollar]

[ he didn't come alone. That fact is something he'd nearly forgotten, as he'd been so singularly focused on Takame and this shadowy, vile version of the softspoken man. There was momentary panic in his heart--as he was, quite honestly, USED to being in these battles alone. But then, through the nearly blinding nerve pain, he feels himself... floating?

The air itself alive around him as he's drawn back, in what nearly feels like in slow motion--his eyes turning to focus on the face of a certain red-haired catlike friend he'd made.
A smile moving over his face, shaky as yes--he now remembers.
He's not here alone.
He tips his head down as that healing magic shimmers over his skin--it heals the smaller wounds blooming red over his clothing, and while it cant certainly bring his arm back--it does dull the pain around the base of where his arm starts and metal begins.

His head comes up as he gasps out a quiet, but very grateful thank you.
Eyes lifting to see what the shadowy sword-carrier was now doing--Libra was standing between he, Rose, and their opponent. Axe in hand.
Panic rising gently in Vash's chest as he moves to get to his feet, hand back on his gun. ]

Don't--!
Don't kill him.

We need to wear him down enough to grab Takame and get out of here.

But please.
Please, don't kill him.

[poisontippedcure]

[Rose doesn't say anything in response to the thank you, she just nods as she continues to channel healing power. She can't bring the arm back--she's not sure she even knows what the arm was in the first place--but she does what she can. She assists Vash back on his feet, if he's able to move, that's a good sign.]

I think he's right! Don't do any lethal damage if you can help it--we don't know what it can do to Takame.

[The shadow is calling out to her specifically, and that concerns her. She wants to answer the call, she wants to help her friend, but her mind is screaming it's a trap. So instead, she calls out to Libra again.]

If he comes for me, cover Vash. I'll distract him.

[monklookslikealady]

[Libra hears what Vash says, giving a small nod in understanding before changing his stance to more of a defensive one... and the axe so the blunt side would hit first.]

I won't.

[He directs his attention back to the Takame standing in front of him.]

She's busy. You can deal with me first.

[hoshikiri]

[Takame, the real one, wanted nothing more then to tell the group to do whatever was necessary. He didn't know what consequences that would bring, but he also despised being so useless seeing what his Shadow did to Vash.

While Libra had the Shadow's attention, Takame did what he could to move. To get to his weapon.]

I suppose you'll do. Have care not to waste my time. [Said before coming at Libra just as aggressively as he did Vash.]

[doubledollar]

[ at least he got the message across. That they needed to fight the man, but not outright kill him.

He raises his gun again, using the stump of his metal arm to balance the barrel of the gun--and he's going to look at Rose, with a focused expression. ]

... best bet is to attack him together. [ not sportsmanlike, but. this wasn't a sport, it was a rescue mission. He's mumbling quietly, under his breath so only rose can hear--so Libra can focus on what's going to be a hell of a fight, for now. ]

Wound him, keep him pinned.
Grab Takame, and find out how to get out?

[poisontippedcure]

[Rose nods. Typically, this is when she would tell the patient to sit back down, but Vash seems like someone who can take care of himself. In addition, she feels like they'll need all the help they can get here.]

[She stands up in turn, her scythe at the ready. When she can, she'll motion to Libra to give her an opening. Before she rushes forward, she turns back to Vash.]

You're likely correct. If Libra and I distract him, do you think you can get a hit in?

[monklookslikealady]

Before we get started, tell me something.

For whom do you fight?

[He has no problem with fighting this man, but... he might as well go for a distraction first.]

[hoshikiri]

[The scowl that came at those words would strike fear into a normal man's heart. Libra had best have fast reflexes, because that line just pissed the Shadow off even more making him go on the full offensive.]

There is the thrill and naught more. What did I say about wasting my time? [Libra will need to parry the next slash, but the anger at least made him wide open for a counter from either him or the other two.

Meanwhile, Takame still forced himself along the ground, clawing against it with his one useful hand and mouthing words.

For those we have lost, and those we can yet save...!

His Gunblade... his Gunblade...!]

entry

[mehjin]

[viv's right there with vash as they fight their way into the castrum. hand-to-hand is precisely what she's here for, and she puts her stretchy body (and newfound strength) to good use in dismantling the horde of robotic opponents they are faced with, striking them from every angle with blows more than capable of denting their metal. the flow of combat, the rush she feels taking down foe after foe... it's familiar. comforting, even.

but the comfort comes to a sharp halt all too soon. viv's disquieted by the grim sight before them, but she doesn't expect such an extreme reaction from vash, is paralyzed by that surprise as he rushes forward in vain desperation. as he falls to his knees and howls, however, she's by his side in an instant, kneeling down and grasping his shoulder.]

Hey. Hey. Look at me.

Re: entry

[doubledollar]

[ It's a nightmare. Human beings, taken from their homes and twisted into unimaginable monsters beyond recognition. He's seen it before--and just like before, he couldn't stop it, again. His stomach lurching, catching in his throat as his hand hits the dirtied ground--his head tipping forward as tears burn at the corners of his eyes.

And then there's a hand on him.
It's clarifying, like someone had poured ice water over his eyes--shocking him out of his panic in a matter of moments. His head turning to give Rem--no, Viv? A startled look--making him remember, all at once, where he was. Shit. ]

S--sorry.

[ he manages to choke out the words, hand reaching to try to find where he'd dropped his gun, his other hand moving up to scrub his face, to swallow down the pile that burned the back of his teeth. ]

I couldn't.

I couldn't save them.
Again.

[mehjin]

[again, he says... there's clearly a whole lot of trauma here that she doesn't know the backstory to and is not equipped to deal with. she'll try to comfort him, nonetheless — she's not heartless, after all.]

Don't apologize.

[she pauses for a moment before continuing.]

... I don't think anyone could have saved them here.

[doubledollar]

[ best not to unpack it now, anyway. Not even he wants to unpack it--now that Viv's brought him back down to earth, he's doing his best to get his head back onto his shoulders--breathe, re-plan and keep going.

But. How. How can he fight those things, knowing they're...? ]

I could have, if I were faster. [ he argues moot point, anyway. ]

...Knock the automatons off, but avoid the monsters. Maybe they can be saved, still.

I can't kill those.

We're going to have to find another way around.

[mehjin]

[well, she can tell that there's no swaying him.]

...Alright.

[doubledollar]

[ there isn't, and he'll appreciate her not trying. ]

...I'm gonna' try to get past them.

Thank you.
For waking me up.

[mehjin]

Of course.

[it was the literal least she could do.]

... Be careful.