#onidephor

[onidephor]

Birthday gift below the line! Did it because it is HUGE and did not resize to fit screen on my iPad so I don’t know what it will do. I am super thankful to @winterdeepelegy and ninjamonkeystudios for this wonderful piece of art showcasing my two oldest head children. Please check out the artist’s works here at https://www.instagram.com/ninjamonkeystudios/

Thank you thank you thank you!

[onidephor]

“Hm.”

“I bet the stars look nice from up there.”

[onidephor]

Power Exchange

Out in the deepest portion of the Sagolii Desert sounded off blasts that were loud enough to attract nearby creatures, bombs they were called, thinking one of their own kind was throwing off aetherical explosions. Sands turned over like dust against a strong breeze, except whole dunes were being turned over. Aetheric light flashed out amid the grains spinning. Oni was at the center of it all with both arms held out before him. His new upgrades had given his arms more purpose than a strong grip and steel skin. The prosthetics now contained aetheric canons, one in the forearm of each limb, which focused energies of the environment, and a ceruleum-fueled core, into corrosive beams of light. He was determined to turn one particular dune into a pile of misshapen glass.

“I can’t believe, out of all the people in the world”, he thought to himself, deaf to the world around him except for his own thoughts. The blasts endlessly leaving the canons drowned out any other sound.

A man he considered an enemy, a Sibling of theirs by technicality, had been felled according to the reports. A problem finally out of the way, he thought he could see to this Heavensturn with a new hope that the miniature war they waged between two commanders would turn in their favor. How they struggled for so long on the losing front. They were always behind, and their foe was growing ever stronger, ever more cunning. Yet, by a twist in the strings of fate, the subject had been saved by none other than the love of his own life. Furious could not describe the turmoil boiling within him. With her face to put to it, he couldn’t bring himself to turn that flame against her. He couldn’t help but feel betrayed on the deepest level. Maybe she was possessed, he thought. There had to be another reason.

He threw back his dominant arm when the core cried that it was being spent too quickly. Even in the heat of the desert, a white smoke frothed off the barrel of the forearm and the air above the metal danced. Unable to fire for a short time, he instead turned to beat down on the sand, which threw granules upward in a pillar at his first strike. He had forgotten how powerful his friends had made him, and how advanced his Garlean commanders had sought to see him through. Even with all of this strength, he looked back and knew that 305 could make him bend with ease, and he hated it. This perfect chance where a Brother, #296, had felled the water demon with aetheric disadvantage and all, was completely blown. Terra, he was called, was a master of the earth and its fires. He could summon up lava and spit sulfuric fire, rend the land into axe-heads to carve whatever he wished in two. This beast of fire trembled against 305’s water, where lava could not flow and fire could not burn. 305’s winds carved through the land like a blade through delicate silk. Through all this, Terra had won.

In a way, he hated that, too. He should be the won making 305 duck low with respect and fear, for he housed the abilities of the sky and its terrible lightning. Ice also dwelled within him, but he could never find a means to use it. He only knew it guarded him against the deadly wind. He craved a power like Terra’s and 305’s so much that merely imagining a world where he could cause that corrupted water sprite to submit made his water and his envy burst from his heart.

He finally sat still in the mess he had made of the land, where the dune ahead of him slowly cooled in the sunlight, and the sands around him rolled down the steep hill he had made on all sides. “You were supposed to be helping me”, he said on a neutral tone devoid of anger and sadness. “Helping me get stronger so we could save the others, save Sylvanius from Theius. Why would you put us even further behind than we already are?” His mechanisms could no longer vent for him, and his body was physically exhausted by his tantrum, so all he could do now was crumble under the weight of his emotions and put his head on the soft sands.

He wondered if there was a point to being “good” anymore. He wanted to be for her sake, to show her that he wasn’t what others called him. Destiney’s words pierced his eardrums once more. You monster. When the light of everything, the purpose of his being lent a hand to the one he considered the most heinous of Father’s creatures, what then? Frost never once held back, and Terra in the thick of that fight clearly was not worrying about what his loved ones would think of his actions. Surely, 305 never considered others when he fought. Perhaps, he thought, this is what is holding me back.

The hyur lay under his own dismay for some time, unwilling to fend off the blowing sands that dusted him. When the rolling beige land had buried him up to his elbow and knees, the spear he carried on his back finally spoke out in a buzz, “You’re gunna bury yourself if you don’t move out of there. Let’s go. We can worry about what we’re gunna do when you calm down.”

“If she is going to help him, then what are we going to do at all? I’m so fucking mad I can’t stand it, and I hate that I have to be angry at her of all people!” he shouted at the earth. He pushed himself back to sit on his legs. “If she’s going to give 305 a helping hand up, but tell me I can’t do the extreme when it comes to becoming stronger, how am I supposed to translate that? Is she holding us back on purpose?”

Oni looked around at all he had done. To anyone else, it looked like a missile had struck this particular point. Yet, in his eyes, he saw it as nothing more than turning over a few chairs in anger. “Let’s go to the processing plant. We have to recharge our cores, and honestly I don’t care about pacing myself anymore. 305 wants a fight, and if Aimee’s going to get him back on his feet, then I’m going to make sure his second chance is pure hell. I refuse to spite her for caring about a life. As far as I know, she was manipulated by him somehow, and I will not believe anything else otherwise.” It was a lie he was happy to fit his mind into. It was the only thing that kept him from doing more drastic things against her when he was this livid. He loved her far too much for that.

The spear behind him, and much more the spirit that hung around it, heard the hyur out without an argument. He agreed somewhat, disagreed somewhat, but at this point knew he wasn’t going to change the man’s mind. “Go on and get our cores fixed”, the lower voice of the elezen spoke, “And if you really wanna go through with this, let’s go to Ishgard. I’ve something to give you.”

Oni looked over his shoulder at the suggestion. Without asking what it could be, he silently nodded in knowing. With a sweep of a still smoking arm, he cast up the teleport that would take them to the aether-oozing land that was Northern Thanalan, where he could drink his fill on ceruleum before seeing to the spirit’s suggestion.

[onidephor]

Dreams

Darkness is such a comforting element. The nothingness of it all makes the world so much different. Sounds are more vibrant. Water feels smoother. With nothing else, if you are lucky enough, you can feel the space souls occupy.

In the corner of his room, the same metal cell adorned with years of stains across its cool floor, a bed of pristine white, sat back the hyur who claimed this place as his kingdom. Still plagued by the images of Carteneau, he tried to find some rest for his mind in the silence of an unlit room. Sleep was so close. He could feel himself drifting into the floating space of the dream world. Tired, cold blue eyes stared at a space of nothing, knowing it was the far corner only because of his familiarity with the place. Heavy eyelids drifted lower, eventually touching their counterparts below. It was then he could hear footsteps outside, and the piercing light overhead snapped on, burning away his peace and silence. The door opened, feet clacked, noise spilled into his kingdom.

Disgruntled to say the least, he lowered his head from its tipped-back position so he could put his mask on in the presence of the guard. When he was here, by himself, he saw no sense in wearing it. Rules were rules, however. It did startle the guard that stumbled in on him now and then. Oni, 168, after the battle at Carteneau, had made a name for himself in being a very popular disposal unit. Not in fame, but in usage. Units like him had a social requirement to keep their mouths hidden when they reached a status this bloody, for their mouths had become symbols of their deadly jobs. To be seen uncovered was like being naked for the unit, and for the one witnessing it, it was like seeing a sword out of its sheath.

The guard stepping in to collect him was yet another midlander male. He couldn’t tell them apart any longer unless they were directly involved with the subjects. Just another throw away, probably not even native born. The black and red clad escort waved his hand to call on the unit, “168, get up. You’re being requested for an inspection tonight.” Though, the white-hyur did not move.

“I’m not coming in after you”, the man said in calm. He knew this unit well enough. Wasn’t the first time he had tricked a guard inside the cell to make dinner out of them. He also knew some of the units were suffering after the battle, and while he wasn’t directly involved in their care, he was some of the few that considered them just one of the unlucky people stuck in this situation. War traumatized all soldiers with a soul left in them, and he considered 168 no different than the rest. Oni would tip his head to the side, letting it fall like a ragdoll left lopsided. Only now wide hues of blue stared back at the soldier waiting, and the metal of his muzzle echoed his voice carefully, “Another gave up two suns ago. You know, soldiers like you are coming to us now. More you than us.” His head drifted back until it hit softly against the metal wall behind him. He stared back at the ceiling and spoke to it instead, “I’m too full to move.”

Concern flickered in the eyes of the guard. He couldn’t be sure if that was a lament born in truth, or another trick to ease the man inside. As a precaution, he took his scabbard and sword from his belt to jam in the doorway rails. Even if 168 could activate the door, it would seize up on the weapon. The man then stepped through the threshold and over to the unit, who still remained with his head back and his legs tucked inward in his chosen corner, spear on his back as if it had long become its own organ vital to him. “That’s probably why you’re all being ordered to have an inspection. We’re going down the line, and 201 just had his, which means you’re next. From what I heard, it’s nothing too invasive, and a few of your Sister units will be in there also. One in particular keeps asking about you, so you may as well see to her.”

“Is it that breeder from the east wing?” he asked right away. He knew of a good handful that fit that description anyway. One he had spared some time ago ended up being close companions with him, while others in that department were just as voracious as they were lascivious. “I do enjoy them.”

Lost in his own thoughts about a number of his “Sisters”, the guard reached down to take Oni by the arm and lift him up. The young unit wore no armor to him, just the simple garb of the other units, and still the escorting guard had to pull a bit more forcefully to get the deadweight hyur to stand. Stubborn, but not about to topple over, 168 did put a leg out and supported himself when he knew he wasn’t getting out of this. As soon as able, the guard brought him out of the room, retrieved his sword, and continued on his way.

In the waiting observation lab, a few other units sat on respective beds being tended to by the staff. Only a handful remained in here, a random mix of all types of units with no complaints. When 168 walked in, he joined their group with no fuss, and they with no objection. Outside of the cell, a disposal unit was viewed as an equal with the rest. Combat units made sport of killing. The medic units, even with a purpose of healing, could wish a mutagenic disease on whomever they pleased. Defense units feared no one in the room, but they knew full well the potentials of their brethren. The basic units and accessory units seemed more timid than the rest, but even the highest warmaker could look down on them and see only potential. And of course, the disposal units walked among them, being the only ones fully permitted and capable of ending their mechanically and chemically extended lives. Some viewed them as angels of death. Others…

“Oi!” a unit barked, 238 was his number, a highlander with some magitek enhancements over his one eye and down the bridge of his nose. Both of his hands were also replaced with a combat unit’s model of claws. “Ya feed that Reap before ye brought’em in here? Hate fer that little lala-lass to go missin’ eh?” he taunted, bursting out into hardy laugh. The lone lalafell scientist seeing over her papers looked up from them, furrowing her brow. Oni hardly gave him that much.

Reapers, they called them as a derogatory slang among the units. As in, “Grim Reapers.” They never hunted like the combat units did. They scavenged the dying and the weak.

Oni would find his place on one of the waiting beds to soon be seen to by one of the doctors. Basic checkup, nothing too serious at a glance. The doctor seeing to him was an elder hyur man, who lifted and adjusted Oni’s one arm to hear the clatter it made. “Hm”, he mused. “Junction is tight. Outgrew your arms, did ya? Eh, we got a spare or two layin’ around…” Feeling the need, 238 spoke to his own nurse, but his booming voice was enough to carry, “Probably gotten all fat on kills lately.”

Snowy white hair would tip back to show a face and a lone eye staring back at the burly, barking unit, “Don’t come to my room and ask for mercy.” It only prompted another verbal prod out of the highlander unit. 238 lived up to his combat unit’s stereotype: picking fights with next to anything was how their got their energy to get through the day. “I wouldn’t go to yer room askin’ for nothin’. I ain’t throwin’ away this cushy life so I can go rot in yer pit-“, he was cut off when his nurse twisted his wrist over to sting the junction between flesh and metal, “Behave yourself.” The female was gruff and would have none of it. “And put your mask back on. Your oral exam is over.”

168 would lower his head to stare at his attending doctor, the pupils in his eyes excited and thin, “Can I eat that one? He’s annoying.” Unfortunately, he only received a headshake. The medic would be removing his arms one at a time to find a better fit for them. He looked down the line of the junction, took a measurement of the stub it came from, then said, “Bring me model 51 in a medium”, to his aid.

While he waited for his fitting, unit 132, the brunette Sister he had befriended after Carteneau, stepped up to his bedside with a smile in her eyes, as her mouth was covered by her own mask. “Hey. Don’t let that wolf get to you. I was hoping to find you coming by here before I had to go back to the east wing”, she said pleasantly. “Come visit me some time, okay?”

Once again, 168’s moment of peace was interrupted by a spitting comment, “No sense kissin’ a Reap, Sister. Like kissin’ death, aye? Hahaha!” If 168’s eyes were pinpoint as before, their color now clouded over into a stormy gray. His retort would be interrupted by a hand placed on his shoulder, 132’s, and her comment to the annoying male, “At least he has all of his teeth, ya brute.”

“Why, ye number’em with your tongue the last time ya both made out?” 238 said in return without missing a beat. 132, a combat unit also, could give it right back, and this could go on for hours until a fist fight broke out, or a commanding personnel stopped it. Oni’s upgrade, complete while all this was going on, finished his checkup. Now fitted with arms better suited for his age and build, he gave them a bend or two before the doctor permitted him to leave. 238 and 132, however, still squabbled.

Uncharacteristic to his type, instead of seeing himself out quietly ignoring the bickering of combat units, he turned the moment he was free of the bed to charge after the towering 238, who wrapped in muscle, far outclassed him in height and strength. Freshly fitted arms would be given the first action of throwing a punch at the maw of the grinning highlander. His nurse somewhat felt he deserved it, but first punch thrown initiated a fight no matter who, or where, it happened. Oni’s smaller, compact frame would find itself grabbed at the waist and tossed aside. Immediately, the escort guards and some nurses moved in to seize the unit before the fight continued. “Down, 168! Take it to the grounds!” one shouted, but the disposal unit wouldn’t hear it. New motors in his arms spun themselves into a crescendo of a scream. “I want that one’s life!” was all he cried while struggling against hands keeping him to the floor.

While medical personnel rushed to deliver a sedative, 132 turned right back to 238 to scold, “You bastard, look what you did! The hell is wrong with you!” Almost proud, the highlander got up from his bed with little more than a red mark on his face where 168 had swung at him. “Tell your bed buddy ta fight me real next time instead’a fluffin’ a hand over my face.” Angry, 132 sneered at him up until she heard the decline in the cores shouting. A nurse delivered a sedative shot to the agitated unit, and his snowy-white crowned head dipped over forward. It wasn’t the sleep he was wishing for, not one bit.

Though, it had gone dark again, but it wasn’t the type he enjoyed. Chemical sleep was true nothing. No dreams, no senses, no soul. Time would skip over him until it wore off and he could open his eyes again. It would be the first time he truly wished for the death of a fellow sibling. It was a judgement he felt, at this point, entitled to make for his job.

In darkness, he slept.

[onidephor]

Caged pt3 A group of Limsan garbed soldiers stood outside a formal holding cell back in the main city. The same roegadyn lieutenant who had followed this case was among them. They had transferred Oni back to the main city to have better access to the scholars and their extensive library. They had paged through every resource they could find over the course of the last week. No matter what spell they called upon or potion they provided, Oni would not break from the state he was in. Nothing they were giving him was what he needed or wanted. One of the female healers was with the soldiers, flipping through her incantation book looking for something, anything that could help. "I've never seen anything like this before", she muttered with her finger at her lip. "The withdrawal of Leviathan's aether was a success, and yet the lieutenant has only worsened over the last suns. He won't say anything more to me other than "I'm hungry" and "I need to go." The chief roegadyn furrowed his thick brow and set a frown on his lips. Large hands came up to rub the troubled brow now creased with worry. "I'm going to be real cross with those bloody fishbacks if we need t'put one of me men down over this. What else can we do?" The scholar looked up from her book and directly at the man. "No one is getting put in a coffin today. The process of removing the aether took two whole suns, and that alone is traumatic enough to drive a man mad. Give him time. Until then, we keep looking for something. Why don't we get a nursemaid and cleaning supplies? I'll get a repose spell prepared and we can clean the lieutenant up. He's been in that bloody armor for too long. He could benefit from the personal care." The chief officer nodded to that and looked back into the cell. Oni had laid himself on the cot inside the room, but he was very much awake. Hazed out eyes stared a hole into the brick walls with the mind behind them focused on other things. He was waiting to be let out, however long that took. When the bar doors finally opened and allowed a few people inside, his eyes shifted towards the sound unblinking. Those who entered were only women, a group of three, and while one carried a basin into the room, the other two worked to set a sheet over the bars for privacy. Among the three was the head scholar with her book set to the formula for a sleep spell. I remember this. Their silhouettes against the sheeted light brought him back to times during his maintenance periods. It was always a group who would show up, give them a bath and change the fluids out in their mechanisms. If they complied, they were allowed down to the mess hall for whatever meal came after that time. The women approaching were someone surprised to find him oddly calm once they had drawn closer. The head scholar reached out to him and asked, "Are you with us, lieutenant de'Phor?" But he wouldn't answer verbally. He nodded to them and that was all they needed to see. It relieved them, in truth. This was the first time he had been anything but restless, and finally he was responding. The one miqo'te set the basin on the floor while the other prepared a cloth. Before he could settle in, his world drifted into the darkness of sleep brought on by the scholar's word. His vision of the three did not leave his mind's eye, however. Instead, they appeared to continue working around him, except as featureless figures in a dark space. They gently eased him back and... His back struck a metal floor with such force that the wind burst out of his mouth. A bare foot with dark skin soon followed, slamming itself down onto his breastbone to hold him there. The figures of women now gone, leaving only the elezen male with white hair spilling down his shoulders and one eye towering over him. Unit 305, one of Father's, was a slender built model crafted from a young duskwight. He was short for his race and wore little armor, but the weight of his body far exceeded what appeared, and was more than enough to hold Oni down. His skills lay in the fields of wind and water, commanding them as extensions of himself. Wind formed knife-like blades, while water stretched and coiled as a living organism all its own. Each of these originated from the two turbines imbedded into his shoulders, one each. Oni was back in the research facility, having just been taken from his group and brought to this location. The elezen unit leaned in to press down and speak in a casual, youthful tone, "I wonder how long they will take to figure out the game of keep away before I have to drag them in here myself." Right, this was a dream. Or a memory. The hyur gasped a breath when he had the chance, but clearly wasn't permitted to take it, for doing so earned him another harsher press down on his ribs. "Come on, 168", spoke the elezen. "Live a little and play with me. Pull out that Other of yours so I can see it for myself." Oni, glaring and gritting his teeth up at the figure, spat out, "You're dead if I do. We aren't afraid to come together to kick your ass. I trust Raiden and he trusts me." "Oh? So you'll fuse right here? Shit, how convenient. You will save me so much time and stress", 305 answered while lifting his foot off a bit. "About time you and your Other got together for some personal time." "We are always together. I am we and we are me. Now, if you don't lift your damned foot off of us I'm going to render it fog!" Oni shouted with utmost spite. It earned him a stomp from said foot, which caused him to cough out his remaining breath. 305 grinned wide and confident while scolding, "So touchy. Here. Before you blow me to pieces, I'll give you a parting gift just in case your buddies actually make it far enough to see the cool stuff." At the command of his hand, with no spell said or book to cast it, the water and blades of wind shifted themselves over the hyur like primed cobras. A slender hand reached ahead of them to not-so-gently pry the hyur's jaw open, where the sharp aetheric blades could then hold it in place without slicing clean through his lip. Once free of the jaw, the same hand held itself upward. The palm bubbled up blister-like formations, which grew as clear as the water flowing around them. They split off from the main body and turned to that of ice, hard and clear crystals, without being cold. A good handful of them, half a dozen or so, were tossed up into the looming watery tendrils, where they appeared to vanish among the liquid. They were very much still there, and gathering at the rounded end of the tendril. "Now", the elezen unit warned. "Throwing up counts as cheating. If you puke, I'll blow your friends up before you can wipe your lip off. So, no cheating, and try to have fun", he chimed just before the watery formation reared back. Oni's eyes shot open on the Limsan cot, his body damp still from the bath that had just finished. The nursemaid miqo'te had taken a cloth to his hair and face when she saw him awake with a start. "Ah!" she said in a startle. "Easy there, Hun! Don't go runnin' off yet! Ye ain't got yer clothes on!" The hyur sat up against her guiding hand to look down at himself, and the mere towel that covered him. He started to try and find his bearings, looking slowly left, then right, until he finally looked at the woman. "Where am I?" Oni asked groggily. It was a question that make the miqo'te's ears flicker and her smile bright. "Limsa, sir. Ye gave us quite the start. Lay back and relax a while more. We got yer armor in the wash basin right now." He did do just that, leaning back to guide himself down to a flat position, though his head throbbed to the slightest jostling. "Thank you", he muttered while setting his cool metal arm over his forehead. "Sorry we caused trouble", he added on after a moment or two. Drowsy from the spell, he was calm enough to allow the healers to think he was recovering from it all. However, his other hand set middle, which still felt as though it was caving in and twisting into a knot. If he could endure it silently, he would be let go. It did not go unnoticed by the head scholar , however, who jotted the notes of his behavior down in a separate tome so she could keep track of his progress, and report it all back to the captain in time. After a few bells, he would be released. Where exactly he decided to wander once he had been bathed and dressed was still a mystery.

[onidephor]

Caged, part 2 Darkness only came because the sun had creeped away to hide behind the mountain ranges. The sea brought in a cool breeze, blowing a salty air into the barred cell just below Aleport. The cell had several people inside, but only one in the warded shackles to prevent a quick teleportation out of captivity. Candle light and the glow of a scholar's fae lit the space. She, a roegadyn in robed garb, leaned over the white haired hyur to assess his condition. The fellow officer and a few privates also stood nearby. The roegadyn leader held his arms in a frustrated fold while the others kept their weapons at a neutral stance. Haste filled everything they did. Oni would shift his eyes at every motion and gesture. Each time someone spoke, the hazy white orbs darted towards the words. The dark, people standing around him, and worst of it all, the coiling, crushing feeling in the pit of himself. It felt like suffocation, to gasp an incomplete breath only to be shoved below the waves. Each passing second brought the feeling to the furthest front of his mind, and his focus centered more and more on time. Doing so had slowed minutes into eternities. "Please. You have to let us go", he suddenly spoke out with his eyes on the scholar. She snapped her gaze back to him, surprised and relieved that he spoke to them, but also filled with a dread that he wanted to escape away. All of their thoughts were he wanted to return to Leviathan's den. The scholar spoke easy, "You have to stay here until we can clear you to return to work." A neutral excuse for any healer to give. "What happened? Did the sahagin take you anywhere? Were you given anything?" The commanding officer huffed his next reply, "He's acting like he got a snort of that stinkin' incense pot but he isn't doing any chanting. Our private found'em over near some drowned and fishbacks, so hells know what was done." The scholar nodded and reached out to check Oni's eyes, which in their hazed state did look like that of a dead body. That had her concerned that he had been tempered. "I've never seen a tempering like this before, but I'm almost certain that's the case. My eos is telling me he has Leviathan's aether within him, but he isn't exhibiting all of the signs. This may be a partial tempering, if he managed to kill the sahagin and get away before it was completed." "We aren't!" Oni shouted, now leaning back away from her and grinding his heel against the stone. They had him sitting and he wanted to push away. "We need to go. We aren't tempered, but we can't stay here. Please, it's killing me." His quickly spoken pleas were quieted by a the seawolf's gloved finger. She spoke as gently as she could, "Easy, lieutenant. We are going to try and purify you, but it will take time. You need to bare with us so we can release your mind." The silver hyur turned his head away and continued, "Don't take my aether. I'll wait here but leave the aether, please." That seemed to settle it for them. That aether had to go. They didn't tell him anything more other than simple lies that they wouldn't, telling him to wait until morning and rest it off. By then they would return with what they needed to perform the process, with a few more scholars, too. The Storm soldiers made their way out first, leaving two to guard the cell door, and the scholar packing her books and leaving last. When they moved out, he begged for someone to stay. Stay or let him go, neither request which could be granted right now. The bar doors closed with a gentle clack and latch. Every amenity was provided. Candles for light, a bed with fresh linens, and food and drink at request of the guards outside. He may have had to spend the night here, but they wouldn't treat him as the scruffy pirates they usually held down here. To keep him in the city was simply too risky. One of the midlanders looked into the cell and said, "If you need anything, lieutenant, we've been instructed to provide it as best we can, so long as it isn't giving you leave." He didn't know what to do. His mind was racing to the darkest places he thought he lost long ago. He could trick one of them into coming inside as he used to do, but that wouldn't do well for his reputation. He couldn't. He needed something, however. His hands couldn't even wipe his worried brow of the sweat because of the shackling, so he chose to sit forward far enough to set his forehead on the stone. "I'm hungry", he said into the rock. They didn't need more than that to send one of the men out for some food and drink. When one of the man moved into the cell to deliver it, he lifted his head up and in that instant thought about dragging him back to the furthest corner of the cell. The plate was set on the stand near the bed, where he could sit up and eat if he wished. Fresh water was placed at the side. The soldier didn't linger, and Oni didn't urge him to stay. He stepped back out and locked the door with little concern. Oni appeared to be willing to stay put. He was agitated beyond reason, though, but nothing could be done. He pushed himself up to see what they brought him: a bread roll, a cut of dodo meat , and popoto diced thick. It likely came from the nearby restaurant and was still hot. His shackles didn't restrict him so much that he couldn't eat of it, but the pieces were big enough to be picked up and set to the mouth rather than needing to man a fork and knife while bound. It was like spitting on a fire expecting that to quench it. The clatter of a metal hand on the wooden plate caught the attention of the guards outside, and one of them chose to look in and watch. Before his eyes could even adjust to the dimmer light of the candle, he saw the plate being pushed forward, scraped clean, and Oni pushing himself off to the nearest corner. He sat himself into it so closely that the spear tipped upward and he had to crouch inward. His tied hands cradled his head for the majority of the night, which was barely in the dusk hours right now. Every second he counted. It made the night stretch on infinitely, but it kept his mind occupied away from what he really wanted, which stood with with pistol and sword outside his barred door.

[onidephor]

Caged It's been too long since I've been able to come out here and do this. I've been trying to be good but I guess I can't escape it. I'm a fool to think that after all this time I could just, stop. Some vital part of me still needs this. Sometimes I wonder if it's Raiden, if maintaining him here is getting more difficult on my body, to the point where needing to do this more and more will just be a fact of life. Maybe it's me. This has been the longest stretch I've been able to go without a hunt like this, and without a mouthful of ceruleum. When I get myself hungry like this, I wonder if I'm just getting better without it, or if I'm just doing us both a disservice by being stubborn. --- The silver haired hyur lay low to the coral encrusted beds that made up the Sapsa spawning grounds, a place where he had claimed as a hunting location long ago. It was easier to tie it into his normal work flow of patrolling these areas, apprehending troublesome sahagin or drowned pirates, and subsequently making them vanish. The combined efforts of his lance and lightning aether always proved effective here where water was king. To hunt here meant to easily place himself atop the food chain, and by now the sahagin had long discovered his presence an immediate threat. Challenging him one by one would mean instant death by electrocution or a puncture wound to the skull. The clutch father of the allied clan, Novv, may have never approved of such actions directly, but the removal of his twisted brethren from this realm he considered a silent blessing and respite away from Leviathan's grip. A ship was rolling in over the waves just now, bringing in drowned soldiers and potential captured Maelstrom troops. It would be a more difficult catch if that was the case. Telling the difference between an ally stunned with incense and a true traitor always tested his moral instinct. Going after those with dead looks in their eyes proved more efficient. Even then, he would be quickly reminded of those like Seamus, those who had fallen but retained their wit. In times like this, he had to forget it. For now, they were meat to take. At times, he wondered when he had shifted to this way of thinking. It never went away, even when he was in the comfort of the Hall. It nagged him from time to time, this instinct. Food could be plentiful on the table well beyond what the whole house of people could consume in an evening, and he would still stare from his corner and wonder. His blue eyes shifted back to his task at hand, trying to get his mind away from home and onto the arriving crew. Hoping to not be disturbed, he reached up to his ear to remove his linkpearl for the Order. His eyes were trying to keep on the group while metal fingers fumbled multiple pearls. Lead by sahagin were a line of roegadyns, all blue and skin taut with bloat. The beauty of this kind of prey was the flesh was dead, but the rot had not set in. Water and brine pickled it into a semi-living state, where the blood still flowed and the organs still functioned, but the flavor had long been soured with salt. His method: to strip the meat from the bone and rinse it in fresh water when he could find it. It made it more palatable, especially when the flavor was not what he was driving for. When extracted properly, even a Leviathan-tainted life force would still do the job. Only one he needed, even after a fast for this length of time. Come on, he thought. One of you straggle away from the rest. They knew full well not to. Even though it had been a month since one of their own had disappeared in a manner as intended today, they knew Oni and his patrol routes were a near daily thing. Either he or fellow Storm officers would have them arrested. Once every few weeks, the arrest would never lead back to a jail cell. Seems today would be difficult. They walked in pairs towards their posts, either with one another or a sahagin escort. To get what he needed, he may need to leave a body behind, and that filled him with immediate regret of the act. He hated wasting the meat. Bringing it back meant hiding it yet again among the abundance back home. Often times he wondered if others noticed when he brought in a sack of game catch and pondered why he felt the need to do so when there was so much readily available back in the kitchen. I prefer it fresh, he always lied. One group began to move away from the rest, enough that even taking out the both of them would go relatively unnoticed by their peers. He moved away from the coral hideout he had made and onto the next formation. His white hair and dark armor never hid him well in the sea of rainbow rocks and shells. Everything about him was devoid of color except his eyes as blue as the sky above them. Even now in their hazed state, excited with the prospect of a hunt, they, too, appeared nearly as stark white as the hair that partly covered them. The sahagin was the first to turn towards the noise of boots striking coral packing, hissing as he raised his harpoon in alarm. "Shhhorewalker!" it cried, which soon alerted the drowned that accompanied it. Once the sword was drawn from the roegadyn's scabbard, the fight was on. There wouldn't be much beyond that. Their wet bodies and the damp, rocky ground made the first strike of aether an effective stun against the barefoot sahagin. The rubber soles boots of the roegadyn would provide initial defense, but not against the follow up thrust of the lance that found its way into both of them. One stab each, both which ripped the the vital energy out of them. His spear could shift the flow of aether around it, creating a temporary state where very little aether existed at certain points. Concentrating this at the tip, a stab from the lance would drain the energy from the receiving end and add it to the internal flow through the hyur. Dragoons would use such methods against their scaled foes in a pinch, but Oni had long learned to make a living out of it. Each would feel like a gasp of clean air to him, sating a primal starvation where his very core drove his every thought towards it. When both bodies lay over the ground, the minimal blood oozing into the brine pools, he debated which to take first. Sahagin meat was more like fish to him and would need to be bled properly to make it worth while. He knelt down to turn the sahagin so the blood would pool and flow out of the wound, making sure to prop it downhill so the blood flowed away. It didn't help rid of the smell, which became bright and metallic. It was a guilty pleasure of his, for he dreaded its arrival but begged for it to linger once it had set into the soil. He stripped the cloth and leather from the body and readied his carving knife in one hand. The first cut welled up a pink water, all brine and sea that had settled into the body long ago. While it drained, he looked around for a large scallop shell, many which littered the area. They made perfect bowls for the fresh water he brought with him. In his haste and hunger, he grew careless. While this was routine for him, he failed to check the area for his own allies. More importantly, to make sure none were nearby before he committed to the act. A Storm private crested the nearby reef. His inexperienced eyes saw the fallen sahagin nearby, and a crouched down hyur with blood pooling around him. The smell of it ripe enough in the air to catch any nose, no matter how sensitive. He believed it to be coming from his lieutenant, Oni, who could have been mistaken as taking a knee to favor a wound. "Lieutenant de'Phor!" he called out, startling the silver hyur out of his trance. There would be no hiding it as he had stripped away pieces of the flank well down to the bone. It was no lance wound he had inflicted, and no lie would explain it away. Hazy eyes shifted before he stood himself up and turned about. "What are you doing out this way, private?" he asked of the fellow midlander male. "I heard a shout, sir. We tried to contact you on the linkpearl but your line was dead", he explained quickly but soon his own brown eyes were trailing to the body sprawled out behind Oni. Confusion set in, and Oni lifted his hand to his ear to fish the pearl from it. He always kept the Maelstrom pearl in during his hunts, but in his earlier haste, he had taken it out in place of the Order's. Realizing his folly, he lowered his hand and said easy, "Nothing of concern here. Report back to the main group. We will finish up here." Seeing the open flank and stripped body was enough to concern the other man, however. "Wh-what did you do to them?" the private asked while leaning to try and get a clearer view of the ivory white exposed in points. Oni soon stepped in his path to say, "I said return to the group, private. That's an order." This time, the private would listen, giving a quiet salute before turning back towards their troop. Oni now knew he couldn't finish this hear, which made his day all the more difficult. He had begun, so the taste was well coated over his tongue and the smell overtaking his senses. Part of him wanted to turn and continue as if nothing had happened, but he knew he needed to pack this away swiftly before others came. Back at the outpost, the private ran up to his superiors to report in what he had seen. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I think the lieutenant has been taken by the serpent's madness", he reported in to another head officer. The roegadyn he called to, one wielding an axe and wearing bright red colors, lifted an eyebrow to the news and replied, "What did ye see, private? Where is the lieutenant?" Oni was just rising to his feet after shoving away the remains into a hempen sack he brought with him when a line of his own crew mates had approached the entrance. The only way out of there now was to back himself into the bay, and with his metal prosthetics, that was out of the question. He shifted a foot back, but kept his position. "Bloody greenhorn ", he growled under breath. "What's in the bag, lieutenant?" the roegadyn asked sternly. When he didn't get an immediate answer other than the blood dripping through the weave of the hemp, he added, "Why don't ye come back to the base with us so we can get a good look at ye. Put the sack down 'nd come with us." As soon as the leading officer saw the instant hesitance in Oni's eyes, a wild panic, he motioned a hand for the privates to approach and apprehend their own member. Even though it was an arrest, they assured him all the while that it was for medical reasons. One soldier carefully pulled the bag from the metal grip, while others moved to secure the spear and hands. He went willingly, in control of his own devices, but now baring a crushing anxiety of being found out after so long, if that had not already been established. Back to Aleport they walked, up the coral fields and beyond the gates, leading Oni away from the spot he hoped to sate his need, where instead by its interruption, it had only burned hotter in the back of his mind.

[onidephor]

Voracious

I haven’t been this hungry in a long, long time. 

Yestersun was one of the busiest suns I’ve had in a while, and there I was complaining about how bored I was getting some suns with nothing to do. No one to fight. Just waking up, eating, going for my run, sitting, sleeping. Every sun the same. I would sit begging for something to happen just so I could move. I look forward to Firesday like its a grand event, even though I know there is a risk we could all get hurt, and often do. I don’t like doing those things and watching my family get hurt, but I never realized how much I love the action. 

Yestersun, I was barely home from my job out in Limsa. Another group of sahaguin infiltrators ruining the hard work of a rather benevolent leader, Novv I think is his name. We had just finished negotiating some relations with him when a few other members of his clan attacked. They seemed to call to Leviathan more than this leader, so I’m still not sure if they have their own civil war going on. Novv was at least forgiving of us when we had to put the opposing group down. There weren’t many. Sahaguin blood smells so thick. Like brine, still bright red. Not as bright as other bloods. 

I’d barely made it to the front door of the Hall when I saw a group gathered up outside hovering a roegadyn man. He said his daughter was missing. Kidnapped actually, there was a ransom. Only 2000gil. After how my morning went, I was ready to pull the gilnote out of my pocket and hand it over. Lha’s idea was similar to mine. I offered to split the cost with her. Mal and Vee had other ideas, punishing the kidnappers by offering the gil and trading for the girl and their lives. Another person who needed to die. I followed them anyway, out near Ala Mhigo, just north of it near some rock formation. The bandits were outside waiting. Vee had her behemoth with her. Seamus and Ender had pistols. Lha and Mal had their sword and staff. I wasn’t in the mood for using Raiden again so soon, so I sat in my magitek. At least using the cannon on it, I don’t have to feel the life I’m taking. I don’t have to drink it, either. It just goes away in a splatter. The earth drinks it. 

I see why that other me from the void gate used an arm cannon instead of Raiden. It’s so much simpler. 

The fight began shortly after the gil was traded, headed by Vee’s behemoth. It was painfully one-sided. They resisted us, but only that. If it wasn’t a cannon shell, a bullet, a sword taking them out, it was Veruca’s behemoth shredding them. The blood was so bright. It stank. People blood smells so rich. I had my mask with me, but it didn’t stop the smell. At least it hid the saliva I knew was running off my mouth. Right around then, I could feel a hole open inside of me. As much as I didn’t want to fight any more that day, I did. I wanted to again. I wanted to strangle every last one of them with my bare hand for bringing us out here, for taking that girl over petty money. When I heard a scream in the caves, I lost myself. There were more people. There were -more people.- 

The hunger consumed me. 

It was like watching someone else move me from afar. I think Raiden took over by then to keep me sane. I hope it was Raiden. I shot every moving body I could find with the cannon on the walker, and stomped down any others I could reach. I wanted to pave that path with that rich red. As soon as I got close enough to the cave opening, we were making headway, and so I dismounted the walker and moved to get inside to where the screaming was. I wanted to feel their lives bleed from them. I wanted to do it myself. I wanted to eat so badly it was all I could think about. The aether alone would be enough. They all stank, like disease, like body oder, like old blood or bad breath. I never cared less about the meat on a person’s bones more in my life. The aether would be clean. Fat with sin, but clean. 

The girl was unharmed when we retrieved her, so I thought the others would be, too. I think that assumption is what made the sight so much worse. One of the men had a girl lifted up, others were in cages cowering. The one held high had been gutted like a fish, probably a second or so before we got there. We were too late. She was alive, dying, but alive with her insides falling out onto the floor. They were all laughing, like it was a grand show. All in fine clothing worth far more than the miserable 2000gil we needed to save the first girl. Others were dead in the most grotesque way. I must have shoved Raiden out of control then. I ran forward to rip their organs out like they had this girl. I wanted Raiden to see their spines, their brains, I wanted to shred their aether like the behemoth behind me had shredded the men. I got the first man I could find and sucked his life dry, and with that power still held in Raiden, used it to blow the gut out of the next. I was so angry. 

I don’t even remember when we won. I just remember standing there, painted bright red, waiting for orders to kill another one we might find. I wanted to find more. I was -hungry- and the group we took wasn’t enough. It was over, though. I had to get home and wash off before I fell down the pit any further. The blood was all I could smell. 

I think I only got a bell of free time to wash up. With my hair still wet, I discovered a note left on my desk with a request for protective aid from some rich lalafell. It would be my third foul event for the day. My mom always told me bad happenings come in threes. I needed to answer the request, but I needed it to be clean. A lalafell in danger near Highbridge. I brought a small group with me. Hideo, Marina, Lucerna. That should be enough firepower for anything. Used Hideo to scout ahead just to make sure it wasn’t a trap, and just like the girls inside the cave, we were too late. The lalafell must have been murdered right as we arrived, because the assailant took off. Hideo took off after him towards the Burning Wall, of all places, and we followed. I had nothing before. Anything left in me was stripped away by the corrupted aether. Thank the Twelve that man was attacking us. It kept me distracted from looking at the other three like they were something worth sating this void ripping my insides apart. A woman soon showed up. She was dressed with the inspiration of a dragoon’s aerodynamic armor, but with thrusters at her heels and a gun in her lance, Garlean, Allagan in design. Both got away by the grace of her rocket boots. They used that lalafell just to get us out like fire to an anthill, and left. Just, left. Pointless waste of life. 

I had to get home and find Aimee before I did something stupid. Had to get treatment before I found the nearest vat of ceruleum to crawl into and drink until I drowned. Before I did something like go after anyone I cared about, go after Veruca, Shoi, or Aimee. The taste of their aether soon came to the forefront of my mind and stuck there. The sweetness of the three. I would have killed more people this day for a mouthful of any of them. I begged Aimee for a lightning crystal, and I got it, but it was like spitting on a raging bonfire inside of me. Nothing I knew of in the moment would stop it. I just wanted to throw everything I could find at it to put it out, anything. 

I hadn’t been this hungry in a long, long time.