Organization XIV: Gaiden Chapters

This topic is for side-chapters, flashbacks, fluff, or anything that doesn't fit into the main story topic as-is. Be mindful that this may contain spoilers for the other story, but really, who's reading this outside of our group who's actively writing it? Oh, and spoilers for the Kingdom Hearts series, if somehow you're a series fan who stumbled onto this board, but haven't played the whole series.

With the required warnings and preamble out of the way...

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Tabago stared, long and hard, at his young companion. He spared a glance, as well, for his second-in-command, but looked back at the boy, whose wholehearted belief in the words of their fellow low-class warrior was written on his face.
 
The pause wasn't long, but in the din of the bar, their silence seemed eternal. Eventually, though, whether it was after a few seconds or an hour, Tabago nodded. "Alright, kid. We'll get outta here. You go on ahead, Celry and I will stay here and warn Nispar."
 
"Right!" the boy said with a quick nod, and hurried away.
 
"Do you seriously believe him?" asked Celry. "I mean, the Saiyans are some of Frieza's best soldiers, why the hell would he kill all of us?"
 
"Has he ever lied to us before?" Tabago challenged her.
 
"I'm not saying he's lying, I'm saying he's an idiot," Celry replied.
 
"If he's wrong, we'll send him back to pick up our next mission and if Frieza asks, we'll tell him we were getting a head start," said Tabago. "Satisfied?"
 
Celry didn't get a chance to answer, as Nispar chose that moment to return from the bathroom with a loud belch. "Hey, you two!" he practically yelled, his face still red from inebriation. "Where'd the kid go?"
 
"Nispar, we're leaving," said Tabago. "You missed it, but there's a problem coming this way."
 
"Eh?" Nispar grunted back. "What's with the grim looks, you pair? I think you need a couple more drinks in ya."
 
"Forget it. We need to go," said Tabago.
 
Nispar shot Celry a confused look. It was one she was well used to seeing, but instead of her usual sniping, she just shrugged. "Hey, I think it's stupid, but if the boss says we go, I'm going. Or did you forget that time I broke half the bones in your body and then he kicked my ass?"
 
"What the hell's goin' on here?"
 
"We'll explain on the way," Tabago interjected. "We are leaving."
 
"I heard ya the first time, damn yer kin! I may be drunk, but I ain't deaf! Ye'd think ye've never been hung over before…"
 
"I haven't," said Tabago, his voice filling with unusual impatience. "And I don't mean the pub, Nispar, I'm talking about the planet. We don't have time to get the big ship ready so just find your space pod and—"
 
CRASH!
 
The window shattered, broken glass suddenly littering the perimeter of the bar. A short silence followed as all the Saiyans present turned their gaze in that direction. Then, a small, black creature with large feet and glowing yellow eyes hopped in.
 
"The hell is this thing?" asked one Saiyan, approaching it. The creature lashed out at him, clawing his leg. He reeled back, in surprise more than real pain, but in under a second, one of the others with him had vaporized the creature with an energy blast.
 
But then another one jumped in the window. Followed by two more, and then a wave of three. Tabago could see where this is going and barked at his teammates: "Tactical retreat! This isn't the place to make a stand!"
 
"Right!" Celry called. Nispar nodded, the flush draining from his face. He was ready for combat instantly, and the three of them burst out the door. They were faced with a swarm of black creatures, of varying sizes and shapes.
 
"Celry! Get the big ones! Nispar, lock down the fast ones! I've got the little guys!"
 
"Gotcha!" Nispar called, immediately launching his fist at a mid-sized, orb-like creature. It zipped around him for a moment, but Tabago was confident in him.
 
"On it!" said Celry, firing a needle at a large creature with a sword. When it deflected the needle, she was already behind it, swinging her leg for its neck.
 
"DIE, YOU LITTLE BASTARDS!" Tabago yelled, loosing a blast of his own at the mass of monsters in front of him. "Keep moving, team, remember, it's our pods we want!"
 
The trio waded their way into the thick of the fight, carving a swath through the army of black creatures. It was like they were facing the ocean itself, and yet they seemed to be winning. Within only a few short minutes, the landing bay was in sight. But the last thing standing between them and their space pods was a diminutive creature. Lizard-like in appearance, with two horns jutting out from the sides of its head. Clad in purple armor and little else, with a gem-like formation of something or other taking up most of its head, as well as patches on the backs of its forearms and on its shins. There could be no mistaking the figure that barred their way.
 
"…Lord Frieza," said Tabago.
 
The emperor raised one hand, and the black mass ceased its assault on the three Saiyans before him.
 
"Greetings," he said. "It appears even you monkeys are not so ignorant as to be unaware of the presence in which you stand. Now, tell me, where is it you think you're going? Assuming, of course, that you're even thinking at all."
 
Tabago looked around. Celry and Nispar were ready to keep fighting, not having lowered their guard. He stepped forward, presuming to speak for them. "…So, you're the one in command of this army, huh?"
 
Frieza's expression fell. "I dare say I don't like your tone, monkey."
 
"Oh yeah? And is my tone the reason you're sending this mountain of peons at us? I think my squad and I have bigger problems than how I address you."
 
"You'd best be careful with yourself," Frieza said. "Given the talent you've shown in even making it this far, I might have considered having you work for me directly. I might even be willing to forgive your little outburst just now…if you kneel before me. Otherwise, you're likely to end up the same as all those other monkeys back at the pub."
 
Tabago spared one last glance over his shoulders, though he already knew what he'd see. Celry was glaring daggers at Frieza, her arms crossed. Nispar looked about ready to throw himself at the tyrant. Tabago turned forward once more, his gaze fixed on Frieza.
 
He took one step forward. Then another. Two more and he was standing directly in front of Frieza, looking down at him, his expression set. "Go to hell."
 
Frieza blinked, clearly astonished that none of the Saiyans before him showed the slightest hint of respect, or even fear. "…What?"
 
"Does the spoiled little prince not understand?" said Tabago. He knew full well what would happen next, but he'd made his peace the moment he'd been caught trying to leave. "Then maybe this will be a little clearer."
 
He made a loud coughing noise, taking the vilest slime from his lungs that he could manage. And spat it in Frieza's face.
 
It was followed immediately by blood, and an intense pain in his stomach, as he was knocked back past his teammates. He looked up, and watched Frieza withdraw his hand, rage in his eyes like Tabago had never seen in anyone before.
 
"You dare?" said Frieza. "You actually dare to disrespect me? Me, who could reduce you to dust with one finger?" Tabago couldn't feel his lungs, let alone respond. "Very well, then. But I'll not dirty my hands with your filth. Heartless! …Finish them, and this planet with them."
 
With those words, Frieza lifted from the ground, and hovered back into his chair, which he'd presumably brought with him just for the sake of rubbing it in their faces. It was the chair that raised him higher, into the atmosphere, and then out of it.
 
"Nispar!" Celry called, not missing a beat. "I'll take the farther away ones! You stay here and guard Tabago until he's ready to join me!"
 
"Don't…" Tabago struggled to breathe, but already one of the monsters had leapt for him, slammed out of the air, and out of sight, by a punch from Nispar.
 
"Don't you worry, chief, we're gonna get outta this," said the stockier Saiyan. "We're gonna get outta this and raise a goddamn army to rival the Frieza Force! Bastard won't have a clue what hit him!"
 
"Not…the problem…" Tabago grunted, trying to force himself to sit up. But he didn't get the chance. The ground beneath him started to crack.
 
"What the hell?!" Nispar yelled. It was the last thing Tabago heard before the world itself split, crumbling to dust, and he lost sight of his remaining teammate.
 
He felt himself being pulled upwards, towards some kind of black orb that stood out even in the night sky. And then…darkness.

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Gestalt stood in the courtyard, breathing heavily as he held his sword out. It was dark out; most people had already gone to sleep, and he was starting to think he’d have been wiser to follow their example. But after what he’d seen Jackie accomplish, he knew he wouldn’t make strides unless he bled for them.

Looking at the blade, he prepared himself to give the technique another try. First, the mantra he’d constructed for himself. Taking a deep breath, he uttered the words quietly.
 
"To master this power, I dive into the unknown. For that, I need courage... like a flame."
 
He wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought that the words made him feel stronger. He conjured up an image in his mind: a small fire, in a black void. This was the only way he could think of to visualize his magic, after his frustrated attempts to understand how other people channeled it. He could only hope it would obey his will.
 
As he chanted the words, the flame grew steadily, lighting up the empty expanse around it. His skin tingled a bit, his hairs standing on end. A gust of wind blew past, filling his lungs with clean air. He took up a wide stance, sword-arm back, as he lifted his weapon and hurled it with all his strength, aiming to send it right through a straw dummy he’d placed a short distance away. As it flew, he pictured the fire within his mind flowing through the blade, and the path it would take.
 
His whole body swung forward as he threw the sword; it turned end over end, slicing clean through the dummy as if it were a circular saw. It careened towards the stone wall behind the target, but was enveloped in darkness before it struck. Gestalt reached into a small Dark Corridor by his hand, pulling his sword out of seemingly thin air.
 
Letting out a deep breath, he took a moment to compose himself. His execution had gotten better – the technique actually succeeded more than half of the time – but he wasn’t sure it could be relied upon in battle. For one thing, it was simply impractical; casting away his one weapon left him almost completely defenseless until he retrieved it.
 
It might be effective against the Heartless, but for the competition, it wasn’t going to compare to Jackie’s lightning, let alone the incredible way she used it. It stung that, despite all that work, it wouldn’t be much help to him.
 
He half-sighed, half-wheezed. To be fair, this technique was more a proof-of-concept than anything. His first step into a larger world. Now that he could tap into the power of magic, he could work his way towards greater things.
 
He re-sheathed the sword and sat down, thoroughly winded. Still, as his lungs burned, the night air was good to him.
 
I bet this would be easier if I were all charged up, like before. Kain’s spells really are something. Maybe someday, I can support people like that.
 
Laying down upon his back, he looked up at the stars. …A much larger world…
 
As though a specter had silently invaded his field of vision, a woman with mint-colored hair and a beaming smile stood over him, beaming brightly against the night sky. A woman not entirely unfamiliar to Gestalt, as he'd seen her devour one of the other contestants earlier in the day. Her clothing shimmered faintly against the dark, starry sky and at first almost seemed to be a sheer material. Her hands and feet invisible underneath the clothes she wore, she giggled softly as she gazed down upon the tired warrior. "My, my," Guen called softly, her voice lilting and sounding like layered honey. "Are you quite tired, young man?"
 
Sitting upright in a hurry, he shook his head. "Just a little winded. You sure you should be up so late? Wouldn't want to tire yourself out before you compete." He was a little startled, but he was starting to get used to conversing with people who he knew could kill him if they wanted to. The "if they wanted to" part was pretty central to this.
 
"Me? Up so late? Silly... I'm sure I felt your eyes on me while I was making a show for everyone today, right?" Guen's eyes raked over Gestalt as she spoke, her words laying on thick entendre and implication for the man. "It is late, of course, but I'm not exactly someone who sleeps, after all~. I'm someone who came back from the world beyond this one, so to speak... or rather, so to speak the plain truth <3. But here you are, young man, up late at night, and working up such a sweat. How mean, that the girls don't get to play by the same rules!" Guen lifted a sleeve to her mouth as she giggled softly.
 
"That was definitely, uh, a 'show'. Hey, you don't need my permission to stargaze here." Standing up, apparently unfazed by her demeanor, Gestalt stiffly extended a hand. "My name's Gestalt. Nice to meet you in person."
 
Her expression changed, only in her eyes, and only for a moment, but something came over Guen in the moment Gestalt offered his hand. Nonetheless, she smiled, and put her sleeves up to Gestalt's extended hand, and while it wasn't definite, he did feel some form of resistance behind the sleeves. "Charming, and so polite to boot! But, Mr. Gestalt, you didn't quite answer my question: just what are you doing exerting yourself so, and so late at night?" Guen continued to offer a smile, hoping to put the man at ease, in some way.
 
He didn't know what to make of her reaction, but she didn't seem like she was going to kill and eat him. Good enough for him; he relaxed just a little. Gestalt took her... hands? It seemed more like her sleeves were empty, moved by her will. Still, he shook them like there was nothing weird about it before letting go. "Oh, I was practicing a spell. You saw how good my teammates were with their magic; I need to work harder if I want to keep up with them. The Olympic Games aren't exactly the time to be a burden, am I right?" Realizing he had been completely stone-faced, he put on his best imitation of a bashful grin.
 
Guen's eye's lit up in surprise and a new form of interest. "Magic, you say? My, my, a man of mysterious talents, the arcane, of wonder and ruin? What sort of spell had caught your interest?" Guen glanced back and forth between Gestalt and the straw dummy, putting two and two together. "A spell of returning? An interesting feat, for sure... I know a bit of magic myself!" Guen seemingly hopped in place, but instead of bouncing back down to earth, she hovered in the air, ever so softly floating downward, and produced two blue, will o' the wisp flames in each spot where her palms would be. Her clothes shimmered in the dancing lights, drawing the eye in towards the flames themselves.

As quickly as she summoned them, Guen snuffed the wisps. "If a better partner had suited your company, I daresay they would have suggested you refrain from signing up while they themselves chose another teammate."

The look in his eyes softened a bit at her words. Guen may have wielded some scary powers, but she seemed sincere. "Still, I shouldn't slack off. This spell of mine is actually the first one I've ever cast. Until a couple of hours ago, I couldn't do it at all." "You look like you've got a fair bit of expertise under your belt, uh, so to speak." Gestalt added. "I've been pestering a lot of the contestants about it, actually, so don't feel like you have to answer, but what is magic to you? How and why did you learn it?"
 
Guen's eyes drifted upwards to the stars and her hand drifted towards her mouth, slowly alighting just above the ground. She stood still like that for several moments, thinking on the question Gestalt had given her, before finally answering. "Magic is second nature to me. It's a way to get what I want, and magic is also how I interact with the world. I'm bound like this due to... well, my circumstance," Guen chuckled, "but what I can offer, is that I learned by forcing new things out of me, even when I didn't want them. I was put in scenarios that I hate to think about, and would scream, cry, and shout if I had to endure them again." And true to her word, Guen started to tear up a little and her voice showed signs of cracking, of reverting from a woman to a young girl who couldn't bear what was in front of her.

But she steadied herself with a breath, and carried on. "But every time I did, I would think of what I needed to solve it, and if I didn't have that, I'd force something out. Even if it wasn't the greatest, I got new ideas for what I could do, and I came to cherish some precious tools I'd cultivated. I salivate at the chance to use them, and while to some, it seems like same trick, old hat, but when you're intimately familiar with what you've got... you work it."
 
He paused for a moment to take that in fully before responding in a gentler tone. Well, as much so as he could muster. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, and I apologize for bringing up painful memories." He began to follow her gaze, up to the vast night sky. "...And thank you. I'll remember your words, if I'm ever in the depths of despair."
 
And yet, as Gestalt's gaze came downward, he was confronted by three cold realities. The first: that Guen had never made a physical sound or noise, not even when he grasped her cloth to shake her hand, and that she'd leveraged this to get unnervingly close to him. The second: that her formerly soft grip had become like iron, and that she'd grabbed Gestalt by his upper arm. The third: that not only was she cold, but she seemed entirely devoid of heat, like her body was pulling the heat out of the surrounding air.
 
Her eyes seemed dark and to contain a vast expanse of void, as she stared deeply into the windows to Gestalt's soul. It seemed as though she looked to his eyes as if she truly could see his soul, much like a dog staring intently at a delicious treat. "The depths of despair, you say? So you're saying you'll take responsibility?" And with that, she let go, and all seemed to return to normal, the fires on the nearby torches gaining their light again... indeed, it seemed as if the whole world had been dark a moment ago. "Good! Then I'll see you again tomorrow!" And with that, Guen departed.
 
If there were such a thing as one's blood running cold, he thought, this must be what it felt like. A nervous smile crossed his face as she left. "Y-yeah, g'night!" He called after her, unable to keep his voice steady. Damn, and he thought he'd mastered his fear by now. Here he was, rattled by a simple jab like that... But what did she mean by 'take responsibility'? ...Maybe she was just playing around with him? Affable as she'd been, this whole encounter had been just a way for her to kill time. Trying to put it out of his thoughts, he quietly returned to the group's hotel room, making an effort to slip into bed without rousing anyone.

It was always dark in the Underworld, but Hades thought the gaggle before him was particularly grim and glum-looking. The recently deceased contestants of the second round seemed even more shaken up than before, even for repeat visitors. In particular, he began taking mental notes on the Team Hera individuals, who seemed to be coming together to comfort one another and took their most recent deaths especially hard. Whether from their consecutive visits to the Underworld or the events being particularly shocking this time around, the end result was they were sullen and upset. 

Team Athena seemed rather baffled by their presence here. Hurien and Syren had been here before, but this was Rayles first death in the Olympus Coliseum games. The three whispered fervently amongst themselves as Lord Hades approached them. "Well well, the explorers have finally found some truly new uncharted territory. Tell me, how's the decor? Does it suit your tastes? Hey, hi, Hades, Lord of the Dead, just a couple questions."

Seyren pushed the other two behind her and strode forward to meet Hades' leering gaze. "We will listen."

"Just wondering what brought the three of you to a rather violent competition like this. After all, you're explorers, correct? Seems a little... maybe not conflict of interest, but certainly a shuffling of priorities? What's up with that?"

Hurien spoke from behind Seyren. "We seek new lands, new horizons, that we might broaden our own and better our selves and our understanding of the world," he said calmly. "This tournament was a way to continue facilitating that journey."

"So getting your hands dirty, is that out of the question? Something extra you do for me, I pull some extra strings for you with ol' Athena?"

The three turned to look at each other, then back to Hades as one. "We pride ourselves on coming this far on our own merits, and we'll continue on that way." 

"Suit yourselves," Hades muttered drily, before turning to the other groups. After a little schmoozing, a little talk of this and that, he came to the conclusion that the Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Aphrodite, and Dionysus teams were against anything illicit, or at the very least, didn't trust a god who absolutely had a conflict of interests written across his forehead. Whether or not they'd remember it wasn't really the big sticking point, but he had to try. 

Teams Ares, Hades, and Poseidon, however, as well as his previous deal with Team Hera... now those were some no-good mercs, unquestioning and desperate, just the way he liked them. 

It was then that Rexial Gestalt appeared, and Team Hera stood up and started walking towards him, Enos in the front. "Hey. Hey you. Been hoping you'd show up here."

(Continued from above.)

 
So that was death? That’s all dying is? Gestalt wondered. Something about the experience was both deeply unsettling, and rather underwhelming. The gruesome manner in which he had been killed was far worse than the feeling of passing on.
 
Perhaps what he found scary was the ease with which it happened; both his relative inability to stop Arthur, and the sensation of his life ebbing away, quickly slipping away from the world of the living. It was both gradual and sudden, like it didn’t take much to go beyond the veil.
 
Shaking his… head? He still had a head? He turned his gaze upon the gunner approaching him, the man he recalled having mixed feelings about killing. He also appeared to retain a corporeal form.
 
Hiding his discomfort beneath a layer of nonchalance, he – rather tastelessly – tried opening with a joke. “Oh, hey. How’s your afterlife goin’ so far?”
 
Enos grit his teeth so hard he was certain he chipped a tooth, and the entire moment was audible even from behind his mashed shut lips. Out of anger or nervousness, an energy he needed to direct somewhere, he grabs one of his pistols and begins spinning it on one finger, performing dexterous tricks with it to give his hands something to do. To not hit the kid in front of him.
 
"You and your friends are fucked up. REAL fucked up. Both rounds all of you have shown a wanton disregard for your own and others' lives and half of you aren't even pretending like you showed up with any intentions of fair competition."
 
Shin, for his part, kneels down and cranes his head forward, eerily close, stretching farther than most people SHOULD. "Y'know, wonder if you'd get disqualified for that portal magic you're using. Out of bounds like that? Wonder what the ref would say. Don't pretend you're not, we KNOW what cosmic magic is."
 
“Cosmic- what?” Gestalt asked, completely off-guard. He was already a little shaken, and while he expected some aggression – he had killed one of these people himself – but he didn’t think he’d learn anything other than how much he’d pissed them off. And now two of them were up in his face. “I really don’t know. If you want to bring it up with the judges later, that’s only fair. Maybe they’ll revise our scores. I’m sure the gods love having their judgment questioned.”
 
Feeling that he was digging himself deeper by the second, he lowered his head a bit and tried to appeal to empathy. Something he wasn’t particularly good at to begin with. “Listen, I’m not gonna argue that what we did wasn’t wrong. I’ll admit, the fact that our deaths are all going to be undone after this made all of us a little more trigger-hap- I mean, lethal in our intent.”
 
He raised his head and looked back into Enos’s eyes, barely able to contain his own fury. He took a step closer, glaring at the gunner from inches away. “But I don’t want to hear any preaching about the sanctity of life from a guy who shot his own teammate in the first round. I get that you’re upset with watching your friend die – I didn’t really want to cut you down after that, but you didn’t really leave me much of a choice!”
 
"So you don't even admit guilt or even a shred of sympathy. I'm a DEMON, flesh and blood and sin and all, and yet you stand here even colder than we are, some heartless garbage blabbing on 'what we did wasn't wrong'." Enos stopped twirling the gun, and now was tightly gripping his gun, finger itching near the trigger. "I put my heart and soul on the line having watched someone who I treasure get mauled when I know damn good and well you could--"
 
Shin started snickering after Rex mentioned 'sanctity of life' and now his chuckling morphed into a light cackle. "Oh, yeah, when that siren... Seyren? Girl had me under some kind of charm and I felt my mind melting from behind my eyes and I could control my body. Ripe experience, let me tell you what. So I'll let you in on the two words I got out while I could, and lemme show you what real grit looks like, audience member."
 
Shin leaned in again, his nose almost touching Rex's, as he brought a hand up to his forehead. Moving his hair up out of his eyes, Rex could easily make out the faded scar mark that Enos' bullet had left, and the faint stain of his own grey matter had left. As his hand passed over his face, he changed his expression to be the same one he'd given his partner before Shin uttered what were his final words yesterday.
 
"Kill. Me."
 
Inwardly, Gestalt reeled a bit. He asked for death? He felt an inexplicable urge to push Shin away, but stepped back instead. As well as he tried to conceal it, his own face said it all. “I-I didn’t say it wasn’t wrong. I still wanna puke after seeing your blood on my hands, man. I hate this feeling.”
 
He took another step back, his legs feeling a little weak. So much for his damned moral high ground. Now he didn’t know what to think. In this battle, death has no meaning. It’s null. But the trauma doesn’t go away, does it? Was I too wrapped up in my own weakness to care about the consequences of my actions? His rage had found a new target: himself.
 
Taking a deep breath, he barely managed to calm himself enough to spit out the words he knew he ought to. “For… what’s it’s worth. I am sorry for what happened. For what I did.” This wouldn’t change their minds. It was hardly a convincing apology. Their hatred wouldn’t abate, their wounds wouldn’t heal. But he swallowed his guilt anyway and prepared to take his lumps.
 
"Hells, I hate this kid. Whimpering little snot thinks he's a hotshot til anything comes along to ruin his hero fantasy. You're a punk kid who hates having to let up on getting their way for even a second." Enos' vitriol was nearly palpable, words and spittle flying from his mouth. It was now that Rex could also see Shin was deliberately extending his neck in a snake-like manner, the skin stretching unnaturally around his throat.
 
Evelyn, who had been standing behind the two, stepped forward. She looked coldly at Rex, then asked a simple question. "We're fighting to live even a day in paradise when all we've known is hell. What are you even fighting for? Fun? For someone else's ideals? Why?"
 
The tiny swordsman seethed a bit at their caustic words. He didn’t really agree, but they were still insulting him. A more calculating part of him whispered, Don’t give them any ground. They are your enemies. Don’t lose face. Don’t give information. Why would you expose weakness? Don’t lose. It would be so easy to listen. To just stop caring.
 
And why did he care, anyway? These people were… well, they were just competitors, like him. That commonality wasn’t a strong one, but it was enough reason to try and see where they were coming from. They had just disproven his myth – that these people were ice-cold because one of them shot their own friend. It seemed farcical to him now. And knowing how easy it was to give up on caring, how incredibly simple it would be to rationalize them as mere obstacles, rather than people… it made his blood run cold.
 
“You wanna know what I’m fighting for? Well, if it makes you feel any better-” Gestalt started, realizing that he wasn’t really sure. By the look in Evelyn’s eyes, she might’ve known that already, which stung a bit. …Shit, what do I even say? Is it worth explaining what little I know about the ‘key’ to them? And when it comes down to it, what AM I fighting for?
 
He sat on the hard ground, pondering it for a moment before giving an answer he found satisfactory. For now. “…I’m fighting to vanquish my own weak self.”
 
He looked at Shin, but really didn’t know what to say to the guy. Didn’t know how to read him, beyond that he was clearly trying to intimidate. It was half-working. So instead, he looked back at Enos, thinking back to the face he’d seen in the heat of battle. “You know, when I came after you, you had a shot at me. Why’d you miss? You could’ve blown my brains out.”
 
Evelyn's eyes dart to the side as she crosses her arms, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the vague response. It seemed to her, even for a moment, that he was about to open up to her, say something genuine, but she held her tongue. Maybe this attitude problem of his was part of that, and she had comparatively less skin in this conversation. She taps Shin on the hip, giving him a soft, worried-eye look, showing concern and solidarity as much she could without opening up in front of others. Shin, looking back, nods, and assumes a rested position, his hand tapping the hilt of one of his swords.
 
"Why... what? Why did I...?" Enos seemed to be having a genuinely hard time recalling the incident, but with a flash, it comes flooding back to him. "Because you weren't the one responsible for that moment. Given what that woman was capable of, she could have made it painless. I know she could have. It's a cruel fuckin' world everywhere, and she didn't do that out of necessity. That's malice, and speaking as a demon, that's sickening. I didn't miss, that ain't it. I didn't take the shot at you, I shot at her, and I couldn't find my mark. I blew up the track to throw her off, too."
 
Shin looked to Enos as the gunner paused, and interjected softly. "We're strong, all four of us, but it sucks feeling like paper in a typhoon, and that's what this competition feels like it turned into."
 
The words hit Gestalt like a truckload of brick walls, straight in the gut. I should really ask Jill what she was thinking later. That was pretty fucked up, even at the time. “…Hard to argue with that. You’ve seen some of the other competitors, they’re monsters. I know; one of ‘em just killed me like it was nothing. Kind of a dick about it, too. Oh, there he is now.”
 
He pointed to the burly redhead, newly-arrived in the Underworld. Almost before he realized it, he waved to the man who had literally just killed him. “Welcome to the dead!”
 
Arthur turns to look at the young man who addresses him and strides forwards to the little pow-wow, eyebrow quirked. "Child, you were bold, but that is the most I can award you in your struggle. Not valiant, brave, cunning or well-executed. But bold is the moniker I lay at your feet. As for you three," Arthur continues for a moment before trailing off again. "Feh. Strong of arm, yet weak of heart and mind. Children, all four of you, not yet weaned of childish displays of emotion, nor of fruitless ideals."
 
Evelyn shot daggers at Arthur before lacing her words with venom so thick it seemed to fill the air. "A pompous man with nothing but a head full of air came to play at a dick-measuring contest with alleged children? Girls, even? You must have been given the world's cruelest handicap. By the by, who fucking asked? Portal Boy here pointed you out but we didn't ask for your opinion nor do we want it. We also don't want overgrown, thick-skulled, vapid-brained dolts around. Leave or be left behind, Tiny."
 
Arthur smirks at her words. "And yet another outburst of emotion. You would not defend yourself so readily nor retort with angry accusations if what I said was false testimony."
 
Enos glares over his shoulder at Arthur before glancing back at Rex. "You've got a big wakeup call coming. You're not going to just see what our dream means, what our goal entails, what any of this has meant. You're going to walk out onto the pitch of Round 3 and get blinded and blindsided by real motives and motivation. And if you don't have that, you're not going to last. Swing your sword and play hero if you want, but you need to have something. I don't hate you, I hate what you do and what you are, because you don't even stand for anything, yet you play hero with reckless, uncaring abandon. And that's what I hate."
 
Before Enos could whirl around and chide Arthur or Evelyn, Hades showed up, and placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder, disappeared him from the underground cavern. "Yeesh, I get it, you're all bent outta shape from the fight, but could you take it elsewhere? The acoustics in here are awful, it's all bouncing around. At least you all won't remember any of this. Yet."
 
Gestalt's brow furrowed as the giant man vanished, just as he opened his mouth. What a hypocrite. Lecturing us on having control of our emotions after he lost it like that. Shrugging, he looked back to Enos, Evelyn, and Shin.
 
"If you think my motivation is flimsy compared to yours, I guess we'll find out tomorrow." He stood back up, briefly looking down at his gaudy attire - leotard, cape, and all. Playing hero, indeed. Suppose I might've been so focused on becoming a greater fighter that I forgot that my opponents are people, not Heartless. Just because we're all being revived, that doesn't mean I should be any less humane. Besides, this is a sporting event! Why should I ever be trying to kill people?
 
He gave a curt bow. "Well, thank you for talking with me. Hopefully... we part on better terms next time?"
 
Each member of the group gives Gestalt a glance before they too are sent back to the world of the living.
 
Hades turns to Gestalt next. "Ready, hotshot?"
 
“…I guess so.” To think, dying had done so little, but talking with another person had shaken him to his core. With a quiet sigh, he nodded.

(link to source post)


Tabago groaned as he came to, clutching both his head and his stomach. He was in rough shape, he knew that much, but forced himself awake all the same. The last thing he remembered was…Frieza. No, the army of black monsters under Frieza's command, and then…nothing. Literal nothing.
 
Tabago forced himself to his feet and surveyed his surroundings. An alleyway in a quiet little town. The kind he'd always thought it a shame to destroy on missions. There was a town square nearby, paved blue, and as he followed it, he saw a large, church-like building, with stained glass windows and what appeared to be a steeple up top.
 
"Where the hell is this…?" he wondered quietly to himself. "There's no place like this on Vegeta…"
 
The town was quiet. Simple. Peaceful. The stars twinkled brightly in the night sky, and Tabago recognized none of them. Where was he? And how had he gotten here? No matter how he strained his memory, he had no recollection of having been any place like this – though it would have been more surprising if he did remember it and it was still standing – but he'd never heard any tell of any such planet, and it seemed just the sort of place Frieza would have loved to target.
 
Tabago took one more quick look around. No one seemed to be in this particular part of the town, and if they were all in the church-looking building, he doubted they'd be inclined to answer his questions during their worship, so he headed in the opposite direction, bounding over a fountain built into a mosaic-styled wall, and through a large set of wooden double-doors.
 
He blinked. He'd just come from a world of blue into one of red and brown – the lighting in this area was completely different. It seemed almost warm, or perhaps welcoming would have been as good a word. Either way, he was quickly inclined to take a few more steps in, the doors shutting themselves behind him.
 
"You new around here?" came a voice from not too far away. It was a woman, leaning against the wall, dressed somewhat casually in a blouse and long skirt. Her tone sounded less like that of a question and more like she had some kind of offer for him. A thought about what sort of offer flashed through Tabago's mind, but he decided to find out directly.
 
"Not so much new as lost," he replied. "Any chance you know where I am? Or better yet, how to get back to Vegeta from here?"
 
The woman shook her head. "'Fraid I've never heard of the place. But if you're here, chances are it's gone."
 
Tabago glared at a corner between the wall and the ground, off to the right of the woman. Bile rose in his throat. He'd hoped that somehow his team might have found some way to fend off the invasion, but even as skilled as they were, it didn't seem likely. Hearing it said to his face was a bitter pill all the same.
 
"Hey, no need to look like that," the woman said. "Truth is, we're all like that. This place is called Traverse Town, and it's where people end up when their worlds…disappear." Her tone shifted on the final word. Tabago got the impression that this was something she'd told many people, but still hadn't found the right way to say it.
 
"Right…what about my team?" he asked. "There should be three of them. A man, a woman and a kid, all dressed in armor like this, with tails like mine." As he spoke, Tabago became acutely aware of the state of his armor: cracks ran through the whole front like a spider-web, and a sizeable chunk in the middle of that web had crumbled to nothing.
 
"Well, most likely, either they're somewhere around town, or…they disappeared, too." It was the woman who broke eye contact this time, holding one arm in the other. Tabago didn't care about that, though. The notion that his team had just keeled over was plain impossible.
 
"This the only place people end up after their worlds are destroyed, then?"
 
"Only one that I know of."
 
"Right…thanks," he said, and turned to head off. The town didn't seem exceptionally large, so it wouldn't take too long to search the place top to bottom.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Penultimate Night: Kain

It had been a relatively fruitful discussion, though given the people he was working with, Kain had ascertained more-or-less when it was time to call it quits. His inner eye flashed, drawing forth several memories. Visions of planning for contingencies, counter-fallbacks, last resorts, and minutely unreasonable outcomes and scenarios to the last detail, before being stopped dead in his tracks. He paused, closing his eyes. With a sigh, and a pinching of his nose bridge, he looked back up and started forward again, before a flash of movement caught his eye. His pupils dilated, his breath caught. Could it be...? Did she?! And yet no sooner had the thought crossed his mind, immersed as he was in his thoughts, did Kain's posture and manner return to normal.

Kain paused for a moment, hand halfway up as though to reach forward, before he grit his teeth for a moment and walked after the figure. The corner it disappeared around lead to a stairwell, which climbed up to the rooftop. Kain took the stairs one at a time, then two at a time the next flight, then paced himself the last flight, gingerly reaching for the knob to open the door to the outside. Casting it wide, he finds the Greecian marble rooftops and the decorative plants and furniture all bathed in pink and crimson from the sunset. He covers his eyes for a second, before lowering his arm and scanning the rooftops. 

There sat a lone figure, perched bird-like on one of the reclining seats, who momentarily looks up from the sunset and her food before patting the seat next to her and returning to her fare. Compared to the way her hair was normally down and free-flowing in matches, the girl's hair was up in a type of ponytail, up high rather than splaying lower, with her bangs parted and framing her face in soft curls. 

Kain's eyes drifted first to her hair, then to her clothing, which was simple and unadorned: a white sleeveless dress and black leggings and a type of shoe that Kain did not recognize. After taking a hesitant, faltering step, and raising one finger halfway, he opened and then shut his mouth and then hustled over to the patted seat, before sitting down slowly and pulling his knees up close to his chest. The pair sat in silence for a moment, before the girl offered him a part of what she was eating: a simple berry-filled tart of some description, with a side of cream. Kain accepted without really looking towards the person offering, and the two conclude the meal in silence.

"Never got to have nearly anything this nice before," she said, in a tone neither entirely happy nor melancholic. "Almost makes me sad the tournament is almost over."

"It's been... a literal hell of a ride," Kain offered in return. "I genuinely wish I could have held back, but the challenges in front of us, our competition, feels... felt... Mythic."

"You're the guy who keeps lighting everything on fire or freezing it, right? Teammates with that guy who shoots lasers out of his hands?"

"That's Dispatch, yeah."

"Right, him. It's been... well, frankly I'd rather this, almost. I don't have to really worry in the same ways as back home."

"Because it's not permanent? Or is it because there's something else?"

"That part's worse. Having to die over and over again. It's that everyone else signed up for what's happening, to me."

"You throw divine offers on the table and I'm sure anyone and everyone would try and do the same."

"Eh. I could see people doing this out of boredom."

"You don't have anything you're wishing for?"

"Oh I'm getting my wish, alright. Don't mistake me."

"But you're bored?"

"No, no. I-- We came here because it was the best option. Not easy, maybe not even realistic. Just something to try."

"Something worth throwing yourself at with everything and then some."

"Sounds like you've done it yourself."

"Once. Didn't like having to do it. Didn't like why I had to. But it had to be done, or else... well."

"What was the hardest part about it for you, when you had to do it?"

"I... I had to let go of a lot of people that were looking up to me. I had to turn away, and try something else, or the people that could be saved... wouldn't be."

"So you hate that you're a traitor."

Kain swallowed. "Yeah."

"You're not exactly in poor company, then. You don't wind up with powers like yours, or mine, without needing it."

"So you're a nurture over nature person?"

"Haha! I think there's a nature core, and nurture... limbs, I suppose, carved by the environment."

"I get it. Something you can't take away, but you're always shaped by something else."

"Yeah, I think that's it."

"You're... former teammates with Isis, the alliterative girl, right? How's she been?"

"Why, she someone special to you?"

"Haven't had a chance to talk. It's been... hard, for a lot of reasons."

"You guys own a pajama company or something? Are you dork club members or whatever? What's with the getup?"

"I... well, I guess I'm fine being a dork. We got the robes before we left to come here, as part of everything that... happened, before."

"Ohh, mysterious. Yeah, she's been good. Bitchy kinda talked around us and our plans, but he knew what was up. Muscles... I dunno. Quiet. Seemed some kind of happy."

"That's good! ...Are you nervous about going against them tomorrow?"

"Man, fuck tomorrow. I don't wanna think about that."

"Yeah, that's my bad. Sorry."

"Oh don't apologize, it's not that serious, but thanks, dude."

"Yeah."

A small conversation between two relative strangers, tied together through loose threads of acquaintance and circumstance. A shared meal, a shared memory. Something lost with time, but a moment engraved in the heart.

"Two questions, Dork." The girl spoke up again after a long silence, as the last vestiges of the sun were holding on to the horizon line.

"Sure, Dweeb."

She giggled. "What's your name?"

"Kain. You?"

"Evelyn. You dance, ever?"

Kain paused a moment, before standing up and offering a hand to Evelyn. She looked at his hand, then back up to his eyes, and grasped, pulling herself up. At first it was slow, gentle, an awkward thing perhaps, before gaining momentum, and energy. Through stumbles, mistakes, stubbed toes, and laughter, they began to understand, and to anticipate. To know the other. And then, without words, or guiding, Evelyn stood on Kain's feet, and the let them drift in the air, just hovering a little above the rooftop, chasing that last bit of light left in the sky. She clung to him, her head against his chest. 

And then, moments later, they alighted back on the rooftop, and she gathered her things, and approached the door. Before she opened it, she paused, turning around to look at Kain. "Hey. Thanks. For... whatever the hell this was."

"Yeah. Same to you."

"Good luck!" And with that, she was gone.

Penultimate Night: Jackie

I felt quite unsettled that night. While we had the broad strokes of what should have been a good plan, something inside me churned. I was... anxious, in a word, though disquieted would have a more prose implication. Alas, my thoughts swirled and took the better of me, so I left to walk to the edge of the city, and sat in contemplation. Bless this world, for it wasn't far that I found a bench of sorts near a small garden at the city's edge, quiet, and away from people, away from the noise, and away from... the struggle. And so I let my thoughts unfetter, and flow freely. 


The Coliseum has been... truly macabre. The fact that the God of Death sponsored it is truly unsurprising at this point, though I have to wonder: why not keep us great heroes dead? Why let us die at all? Would it not have been easier to simply do one or the other? And what do the other Olympians get out of this, if they're offering wishes? 


Ugh, and this Keyblade business Renault sent us out here on. It's... so much. We have something that could start a lead, but if we don't succeed, then we've wasted so much time, spent so much effort, some of us have died, even... And for what? What do we do after this? Where do we go from here? I wish... heh. 'Wish'. I wish my dad was here. I want to see my dad again. I want to have a meal with him. Talk with him. I want to discuss theory with him, but I just... I want to see Papa okay. I don't want to lose him... I can't have lost him. I can't. I can't. He's not... he's not gone. I have to believe that.


If I could... If I could get one extra request, or a personal favor, or... even if I had to sell my soul, I'd ask Lord Hermes or anyone at all if Papa was okay. But I can't change that right now. It's not a control, or a constant, in this moment, and I need to find a way to settle myself. I can't be using destructive 'I' language. I need to focus and think of something else...


I guess the most obvious thing that comes to mind is my new grasp and mastery of magic, thanks to Kain. I've never controlled currents so immense before, but thanks to him, it's a breeze. Like... scarily so. I don't doubt his divinity at this point, but I also have to question that at some point. Why us? And with power like that... what did he fail to do? He's so human, I have to wonder if he was bestowed the power, rather than being innately gifted with it. It's so bizarre, and so far-reaching. Does he even have limits? I'll have to discover that some other time... but what I can discover is a principle he gave me. 


Kain can innately give and bestow energy to others, seemingly freely, with no loss in efficacy. I can draw on this energy as though it were my own. Therefore, Kain's magic works with intent. Hypothesis: I can affect the energy around me, or utilize what is around me with the power of intent and a sufficient grasp of magic. Let's dig down, and reach out. Break the barrier in me that holds my reserves, just a bit... good. Now, to open my mind, just a little, with that feeling... that warm suffusion. A bubble, or sphere. Not the most efficient, but it'll do. Cubes are for squares, after all, haha. So! Let's push, and... okay, I can feel the air around me pretty well, the flowers beside me, and I can sense the grass as well. 


First test... hydrogen should be pretty plentiful. Pretty easy to work with, too. Imagine the molecule, the electron, spinning, and then throw it-- ah! That... that works?! That required... so little! What? Did I always have this ability? Okay, second test, let's get a fistful of these, and-- OH. Oh dear. Okay! Okay. That was loud, but an electric snap like that shouldn't be the worst thing ever. Understood. Hypothesis currently seems correct. Can I do this beyond my little bubble? Let's try. That tree... can I get a snap in it's branches? ...No? Need to remember that. But...


Lord Hermes gave us the power of freedom of movement, therefore, we can move without restrictions. New test: Can I move my bubble away from me? Secondarily, can I move something in my bubble to another location and then activate it? Let's try the first one.


The night was long, but was proving to be fruitful.