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year 5, quarter 3
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Post by Alaric Carroll on Aug 25, 2022 12:54:27 GMT -6
stand with me on the edge of the sky
The faint humming of a robotic beast was punctuated by occasional sparks, a mockery of a pulse. Alaric—hands caked in blood, dirt, and sweat—shivered at the sight. The technology that mirrored his own societies’ was felled by his blade. Poetic and ill-fated, complete with the oil siphoning from its wound, much like the Lufenian blood. The thought twisted his insides, ushering in a bitter taste of iron on his tongue.
Locking his jaw, swallowing back the bile, Alaric reached for his sword and wrenched it free. A sickening squelch met his ears. The bitter taste strengthened, forcing him to gag. With a grimace, he haphazardly wiped down the sword on a leaf before sheathing it. He moved as a marionette, with stiffening limbs as the adrenaline seeped from him, making his hands shake.
One glance skyward revealed clouds, dark and heavily gravid. While humid, a chill wind cut through the jungle, causing gooseflesh to raise on his exposed flesh. The taste of rain was in the air. He had to hurry. A month spent in this unforgiven land made one observant, adaptable.
Alaric’s jaw tightened. It should have made him better. Redoubling his efforts, he dug into the sodden soil, with renewed vigor. He had lost his dagger in the earlier skirmish, having been ambushed, and, despite renouncing his ways, he found he could not leave it behind, to rot. A nitwit earns witless prizes.
A flash caught his eye. There. He all but dived to retrieve his possession. Lifting it into the air, Alaric released a rugged sigh. After a quick inspection, finding his dagger and hilt undamaged, he turned his attention to the beast. The droning had died some time ago. There lacked any flow of electricity, he noted, as he rose. Good.
Elkas would have bulked at his savagery as he tore at the machine. Hell, anyone might have, but Alaric was beyond caring. Ever since he woke, tangled amongst the thick vines, stranded, all he could do was adapt. For the second time, he had to figure out how human limbs differed from that of a bat’s. Given the harsh environment he was thrown into, it had to be swift, and while he still fumbled, he had grown.
While not ideal, he had a bunker, and a clean source of water. By some miracle he had retained muscle memory, giving him a slight-edge at hunting, foraging, and…defending himself. A component he quested for came loose, heavy in his hand. Now, he was only strengthening his defenses. Eying what he sought, he gave a rare, harsh smile of victory.
A bark broke the moment. Alaric whirled, eyes blazing. From the underbrush leapt his mechanical dog (he had spent a week meticulously building it from scratch). “Hush,” he all but barked in turn. His work did as obeyed, yet that did not stop the tension.
His creation was programmed to bark when something approached.
[ open ]
Final Fantasy VII
27
YEARS
Male
Single
Gay
189 POSTS
Erin
Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return.
[attr=class,lyric1]infinite in mystery is the gift of
[attr=class,lyric2]the goddess
[attr=class,bulk] Genesis hated being this far south considering the suffocatingly humid heat during the day. It did absolutely terrible things to his hair and even worse things to his temper. Still, he had completely botched the last mercenary job that he had taken on after he had ended up playing the hero—his conscience was a pesky thing sometimes—so he was in desperate need of money now. He needed to pay this month’s rent if nothing else, since Sephiroth wasn’t likely to step up and do it. His friend was such a freeloader when he wanted to be.
He wasn’t inclined to tell Sephiroth that, but he was more than happy to grumble about it behind his back.
All in all, this wasn’t the sort of job that Genesis usually wanted to take, but the offer had been put out basically everywhere that he’d looked. The “Red Menace” was an odd nickname for a pack of wild red chocobos. It honestly sounded more like something his commanding officers would have called him in his early days of SOLDIER, but apparently the birds were wreaking havoc on the local wildlife. Plus the pay being offered was more than enough to get him to rough it in the wild for a day or two.
Whether or not Genesis could actually look a fluffy, red chocobo in the eye and try to kill it was a different question since he’d always found the large birds more charming than people. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it though. Hopefully he wouldn’t botch two different jobs in a row for being too soft.
As Genesis hiked through the tropical forest, he had just been eyeing a red feather in the undergrowth, trying to decide if it belonged to a chocobo or not, when the barking of a dog from up ahead distracted him. Were there wild dogs that lived in the valley? He hadn’t thought so, but he supposed that maybe the animals liked the climate down here. It certainly never got below freezing. Either way, Genesis decided to follow the sound on the off-chance that the dog was so excited because it had spotted a chocobo. Or several.
Following the source of the barking, Genesis emerged into a large clearing and was momentarily taken aback at what he found. The dog in question seemed to be made entirely of spare mechanical parts, which Genesis hadn’t even known was possible. Whoever had built this thing was a much better engineer than those hacks at Shinra. The robot dog seemed uneasy and hostile towards him as it backed away, and Genesis looked closely at the solemn-looking blond man it must have belonged to. His features were mostly obscured by the hood he wore, but his clothes made it look as if he had lived in the wilds for a decent amount of time. Maybe he was one of the local villagers from the valley? The dismantled robot at his feet seemed to support that theory. Genesis had heard that the ancient robot guards could be a problem in the area, but this man seemed as if he knew how to deal with them at least.
“The wind sails over the water’s surface, quietly but surely,” Genesis quoted from Loveless, trying to decide how he appeared to the man. He’d thought himself alone in the forest, so his single black wing was out at his side instead of hidden beneath his coat. Hopefully that wouldn’t alarm the stranger too much.
“Did you kill that thing? I don’t suppose there are any others around? I'm afraid I've just landed.”
Post by Alaric Carroll on Aug 31, 2022 11:29:39 GMT -6
A lilted voice broke the tension. Alaric would like to say he did not jump like a child. That would have been a lie. Heat rose to his cheeks, and he silently thanked the hood concealed it. Once there was a time where he’d be sooner caught dead than seen in his current state. Pride would not allow it then, and certainly not now.
Tugging back the cowl revealed a tumble of silver-gold in loose ringlets, frizzing in the humidity. Golden-amber eyes adjusted to the subtle change of light even as he squared his shoulders, hand drifting for the hilt of his sword. He would make sure to be seen as an equal and not some cretin to be pitied.
“I did,” he admitted. Speaking the truth seemed to be the best option. His hand slid from the hilt. “Lucky strike.”
He had lucked out. The model eerily resembled the Guardians of Lufenian. Alaric’s own hands had put pencil on tablet, pouring over the schematics alongside his identical brother, deciphering notes dating before their existence. By that point Ansel had gotten antsy, as if he sensed something others didn’t, and pushed for better defenses.
At the time Alaric had considered it a father’s stress, for Lucia was nearing a month old, and babies could wreak havoc on a household without lifting a finger. In hindsight, he should have offered some supportive words, instead of shooing Ansel out of his office, with a sarcastic comment about how the world wouldn’t end overnight.
Those words didn’t age well. Even if it took eight years later before their world did end.
Alaric returned to the present with a shake of his head. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in the past. He had company in the present and only the present mattered. Despite this, he could not stop himself from peering at the dismantled machine again. Half-heartedly he gestured towards it. “It went haywire,” he explained, hand ghosting over what remained of the outer shell. He hesitated, oil-slicked fingers hovering above a severed appendage. “More than likely as the result of those rabid birds.”
Whatever those overgrown monstrosities of chickens were, they left destruction in their wake. He lost innumerable hours of labor because of them. He had taken pride in reprogramming those machines, making them less hostile towards men. The only solace he could take from this season of chaos was the sketches he managed to capture before the ruffling of their feathers.
By now the dog had crept closer, coming to heel by Alaric, nudging at its master’s shin. Instinctively, Alaric patted his only companion for the past month. “Always presume there is more,” he began, willing his voice to remain level. “This little one warns me if there are any.”
The barking. It brought risks, given the creatures around her were susceptible to volatile actions when exposed to unknown sounds, but it was better than being caught unawares. At this moment, the only noise the dog made was the mechanical hum of machinery. While the stranger before them could pose a threat, the robot made no other sound. Alaric was likened to give him a chance.
His stubbornness would not let him admit it was because of loneliness. No, certainly not. He did not need the company of a fine man. Wait. Alaric squashed those thoughts. Just focus on the wing.
Luckily the stranger mentioned landing. Good. He had an opening.
With a birdlike tilt of his head, Alaric’s eyes lit up. “So you are capable of flight. Fascinating.” It had been some time since he had last flown. Being a bat was miserable for the most part, but the exhilaration of flight hadn’t left his bones. It brought back his mother piloting one of her airships, when she had snuck her sons aboard, much to their father’s discomfort. He had heard it said a bird with one wing could not fly.
Guess they never considered humans with wings into that equation. “Your plumage contrasts the local species,” he said, putting aside the gears he had gathered. Hands dug inside the haversack on his person before producing a book. Flipping the pages, Alaric offhandedly mentioned how he’s been studying the current birds, oblivious to the red feather that fell from the book.
“I think the heat is a factor to take into consideration.” His throat felt raw. It had been too long since he had last talked this much. “Makes everyone and anything aggravated…”
He let his words die and another blush swept his cheeks. Who was he, to assume the stranger actually cared enough to hear the blabberings of a madman?
[attr=class,lyric1]infinite in mystery is the gift of
[attr=class,lyric2]the goddess
[attr=class,bulk] Perhaps Genesis had emerged from the foliage a little too quickly because the man visibly jumped when he spoke. He had definitely startled him, but he was still polite enough to lower his hood so that Genesis was finally able to get a good look at him. Somehow, the ex-SOLDIER had been expecting a bulky man who was used to weathering the elements, but instead this stranger was lithe with fair features and a beautiful head of silvery-blond hair. The humidity hadn’t done good things for the man’s long locks, but Genesis shuddered to think how his own looked right now. He shouldn’t be one to judge.
The man admitted to dismantling the robot, but he claimed it had only been a lucky strike. Genesis wasn’t sure how much of that to believe considering the man’s hand was keeping a careful distance close to his dagger’s hilt even as they spoke, but he didn’t blame him for it either. They really were in the middle of nowhere, and they didn’t exactly know each other yet. Not that Genesis was likely to attack him unless he turned out to be working for Shinra or something.
“You’re too modest,” he said, looking over the ravaged machinery again, though he perked up at the mention of rabid birds. “I take it you’ve seen the so-called ‘Red Menace.’ Really, I’m rather jealous of the title those birds have. I might have to steal it.”
The man had practical advice about always being on the lookout for those haywire robots, though it seemed his dog was programmed to warn him when they were near. That explained the barking that he had heard, though it was thankfully silent at the moment. No killer robots in the immediate vicinity at least.
“Did you build that yourself?” He asked, finding himself a little intrigued as he leaned in to examine the curious dog next to the man. “That’s incredibly impressive. Are you an engineer or something?”
Hopefully he wasn’t coming across as too forward with his questions, but thankfully the stranger seemed just as interested in Genesis’ capabilities of flight. “I can,” he admitted with a slightly bitter smile. Even after so long to come to terms with it, he was still furious about the experiments he and his friends had been subjected to. “Though I suppose I haven’t introduced myself. Genesis, at your service.” He gave a slightly exaggerated bow that even included a little flourish of his wing, because no one had ever accused him of not being dramatic enough.
The blond stranger seemed to admire his wing at least as he opened a book of his notes surrounding the local avian wildlife. A large red feather fell from between the pages as he spoke, and Genesis felt himself brighten. How fortunate that he’d run into a scholar who wrote down his observations of the world around him. “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess,” he quoted Loveless with a small quirk of his lips. “I don’t suppose you have any notes on that pack of red chocobos?”
Post by Alaric Carroll on Dec 23, 2022 19:43:04 GMT -6
Modest. Surprise lit his eyes before he could subdue it. That was a new one. He had never considered himself as such, given his kinships’ hubris. Modesty felt wrong. It made his skin crawl, itching to move. Around his book he retrieved a handkerchief to wipe off any remaining oil from his hand, cursing himself for letting a single word get to him. What would a stranger know? His fingers stilled. Who was he to judge another’s opinion when he was one step from being feral?
“Claim the title,” he answered. Hearing his own voice jarred Alaric from his thoughts. Perhaps he had been away from civilization for too long, if he answered aloud without weighing his words. Shoving the cloth into a hidden pocket, he added: “Make it your own.”
The dog loafed nearby, seemingly drawing the ginger’s attention to it. Reason quelled the sudden irritation over the probing questions. It was human nature to be curious. Not to mention he did not outwardly ask personal questions; it was something an acquaintance would ask. Irene had called it small talk. “I did,” Alaric admitted, “and I was. Are you familiar with engineers, and their creations then?”
Alaric’s lips twitched upward, his typical stoic nature softening briefly. Between Genesis’s admittance of flight capability and his flair, it was as if the past crept to the present. Laurent had bowed before them, back in those idyllic days, as they hastened to the Chaos Shrine. “Shall I extend my hand over this auspicious meeting?” It had been an Age since he dared such impish behavior. “Alaric,” he supplied instead. “At your service.”
Their conversation took a sudden course when Genesis had caught sight of the red feather. “Choco…bo.” He overheard that word before, when he slipped into the nearby patchwork village in search of tools. Harsh whispers, wives to husbands, expressing concern for their sons and daughters, the loss of gardens, or about the unfortunate soul in the wrong place at the wrong time. Beneath the sickle moon, he had taken an interest, even as he pocketed another wrench.
Somehow it sounded familiar yet foreign. There was a possibility that a long, buried memory of his ancestor had answers. For now he was more interested in the present than the past, as the thrill of discovery took hold. With a flourish of his hand, the word was added to his notes before he faltered. Alaric’s eyes met Genesis’s, widened.
“Of course I do.” Still he hesitated. While not a schoolboy’s diary, a sketchbook was personal, a reflection of oneself. Would his observations come off as obsessive? How many people willingly threw themselves to the wild, in order to track migration patterns of birds? Trying to see what sent them off—be in mating season or not? Scoffing inwardly at his childish antics, he offered the book. Genesis seemed to quote some source material, so perhaps he had read similar subjects prior, and could appreciate any intel. “You are welcome to read for yourself.” Voice low, he added, “I want to help that village.”
Maybe then he would feel comfortable enough to live there.
[attr=class,lyric1]infinite in mystery is the gift of
[attr=class,lyric2]the goddess
[attr=class,bulk] The stranger seemed a bit unused to company, but maybe that was to be expected if he lived out in this wilderness. Genesis had no idea how he could bear the humidity really. It was ruining his hair already, but that was something he could take care of back in Torensten. In any case, the blond man had a sense of humor at least as he said that Genesis should claim the title of Red Menace for himself if he really wanted it. “Inspirational. Maybe you’re right,” he said with a slight quirk of his lips as he turned to examine the dog again. It really was an incredible creation—especially with the small amount of tools at his disposal out here.
“Where I come from was filled with so-called scientists,” he explained with a slightly bitter note entering his voice. Talking about Shinra had that effect. “You could even say I’m the product of their work. I very much prefer your brand of creation though.” The mechanical dog seemed harmless enough, and obviously hadn’t come from something that had once been human. Shinra scientists could do with taking some notes from this stranger.
The man introduced himself when Genesis did—Alaric apparently—and he poked a little fun at the SOLDIER’s dramatic introduction. He didn’t really mind though. Actually, Alaric’s mannerisms reminded him a bit of the man Kuja that he’d once met in Sonora. Maybe that meant that he should watch his back. Kuja had certainly always had a delightful scheme or two up his sleeve. Perhaps Alaric was the same.
“As you like,” he said with a slight laugh, extending his own hand in case the blond man really did want to shake hands. “You aren’t familiar with chocobos where you come from then? Odd, I was starting to think they must be universal.” It felt like Genesis had met people from a dozen different worlds at this point, and nearly all of them had seen the big yellow birds before. It was kind of curious now that he thought about it.
When he asked Alaric about the Red Menace, he hadn’t expected the man to offer him the sketchbook that he could look over himself. He didn’t pass up the offer though, taking the book with one gloved hand. “Your drawings are remarkable,” he marveled, skimming the notes that Alaric had taken on the birds. He wondered what else the man had documented, but it felt a bit like an invasion of privacy to flip to other sections. After Alaric commented softly that he wanted to protect the local village though, Genesis shut the book and offered it back to its owner.
“My friend, do you fly away now? To a world that abhors you and I? All that awaits you is a somber morrow No matter where the winds may blow.”
After quoting the stanza, he gave Alaric a proposal. “Why not join me then? They’re offering a reward for the protection. I’m sure you could do with more supplies.” Genesis twirled a strand of his red hair as he glanced at the robotic dog again. “And if I may be so bold. While I’m prone to bouts of solitude myself, I do think a man of your talents might be wasted out here.”
