Say it for me, say it to me (Active / Open)
Characters: Seymour and anyone who wants to come save him
Content: Herbie's not too happy and Seymour pays for it
Location: near Herbie's path somewhere
Time of Day: backdated to Herbie's rampage
Warnings: Seymour being a creep and finally starting to snap, injuries, etc
The day had started out harmless enough. Seymour had hoped for a relaxing walk, despite the size of the new parasites. They didn't really bother him. After all, if he got bitten yet again, would that not put him closer to his goal? He'd be able to use the new form to aid the people in their deaths, and in his attempts to end suffering. That certainly would be the best use of anything this place could offer and the best thing that Seymour saw. He was here, after all, to save them and help them, and if he couldn't do that after all this time, then he was failing in his role as a maester of Yevon.
And he couldn't have that.
Even the sky seemed to be in agreement with him that day. Nothing appeared able to go wrong and so he smirked to himself as he walked past buildings and down the street.
That was when he heard the explosion, and the resulting roar from one of the monsters. Seymour felt the heartbroken cry deep within his soul and he turned to get a better look at what had happened... realizing way after the fact that he was a bit too close to the monster's location to be comfortable... And no amount of running was going to save him now. The rumbling that came soon afterwards, the scraping, the falling chunks from the building next to him did deter him from his original thoughts. In fact, the destruction he was seeing only doubled, maybe even tripled the desire in his heart, and the conviction that this was the right way to go about it.
His only deviation was that this wasn't how he was supposed to die. He couldn't die until everyone else on this island had done so before him. But things were falling and he was scrambling... and after a particularly rough crash nearby, his vision blurred and went black.
Eventually, blue-purple eyes slid open once more and as soon as they did, their owner let out a soft sound of pain. Never before had he felt this measure of harm. Never before had he been in this sort of position. Not even his death previously on Spira had been this painful. In fact, he'd barely even felt that, as Lady Yuna hadn't managed to send him directly afterward. One of these days, he had to thank her. She'd allowed him so much freedom by not doing anything about that until the Guado could come take him away.
A breath hissed out from between his lips as a tired, foggy brain attempted to take stock of what had happened. From the feel of rubble across his stomach and legs, it was obvious that part of the building he'd recently been admiring had fallen directly ontop of him. What horrible luck. Something was broken. More than one something. He couldn't move and a sharp flare of pain emanated from too many places to pinpoint. Taking a deep breath, he spent his healing spells in one go, trying to fix whatever he could. It was unfortunate that Lady Yuna wasn't there at the moment, or he could have asked her for her abilities. His just weren't quite strong enough.
As it was, he'd be hard pressed to call for help. He still had his pride. And so, he shifted a little of the rocks off of him, enough so that he could attempt to sit up... before falling back to the rocky bed with a soft cry. Cracked ribs for sure, sprained wrist, broken leg bones somewhere, and probably internal bruising. This wasn't what he'd had in mind for saving the people of Manhattan.
However, at least this did solidify his belief that the monsters could indeed kill quite easily if given the chance. He'd always assumed they would be capable of such things, but to see the power at work... that was what he lived for.
Their saving grace was indeed at work. Now all he had to do was find a way to guide the monsters... guide them to complete his goal...
Unfortunately, that would have to wait until he became strong enough to walk home first. With a sigh, he lay back down and tried to will the very last remnants of his magic into his injuries so that he could return home.
Content: Herbie's not too happy and Seymour pays for it
Location: near Herbie's path somewhere
Time of Day: backdated to Herbie's rampage
Warnings: Seymour being a creep and finally starting to snap, injuries, etc
The day had started out harmless enough. Seymour had hoped for a relaxing walk, despite the size of the new parasites. They didn't really bother him. After all, if he got bitten yet again, would that not put him closer to his goal? He'd be able to use the new form to aid the people in their deaths, and in his attempts to end suffering. That certainly would be the best use of anything this place could offer and the best thing that Seymour saw. He was here, after all, to save them and help them, and if he couldn't do that after all this time, then he was failing in his role as a maester of Yevon.
And he couldn't have that.
Even the sky seemed to be in agreement with him that day. Nothing appeared able to go wrong and so he smirked to himself as he walked past buildings and down the street.
That was when he heard the explosion, and the resulting roar from one of the monsters. Seymour felt the heartbroken cry deep within his soul and he turned to get a better look at what had happened... realizing way after the fact that he was a bit too close to the monster's location to be comfortable... And no amount of running was going to save him now. The rumbling that came soon afterwards, the scraping, the falling chunks from the building next to him did deter him from his original thoughts. In fact, the destruction he was seeing only doubled, maybe even tripled the desire in his heart, and the conviction that this was the right way to go about it.
His only deviation was that this wasn't how he was supposed to die. He couldn't die until everyone else on this island had done so before him. But things were falling and he was scrambling... and after a particularly rough crash nearby, his vision blurred and went black.
Eventually, blue-purple eyes slid open once more and as soon as they did, their owner let out a soft sound of pain. Never before had he felt this measure of harm. Never before had he been in this sort of position. Not even his death previously on Spira had been this painful. In fact, he'd barely even felt that, as Lady Yuna hadn't managed to send him directly afterward. One of these days, he had to thank her. She'd allowed him so much freedom by not doing anything about that until the Guado could come take him away.
A breath hissed out from between his lips as a tired, foggy brain attempted to take stock of what had happened. From the feel of rubble across his stomach and legs, it was obvious that part of the building he'd recently been admiring had fallen directly ontop of him. What horrible luck. Something was broken. More than one something. He couldn't move and a sharp flare of pain emanated from too many places to pinpoint. Taking a deep breath, he spent his healing spells in one go, trying to fix whatever he could. It was unfortunate that Lady Yuna wasn't there at the moment, or he could have asked her for her abilities. His just weren't quite strong enough.
As it was, he'd be hard pressed to call for help. He still had his pride. And so, he shifted a little of the rocks off of him, enough so that he could attempt to sit up... before falling back to the rocky bed with a soft cry. Cracked ribs for sure, sprained wrist, broken leg bones somewhere, and probably internal bruising. This wasn't what he'd had in mind for saving the people of Manhattan.
However, at least this did solidify his belief that the monsters could indeed kill quite easily if given the chance. He'd always assumed they would be capable of such things, but to see the power at work... that was what he lived for.
Their saving grace was indeed at work. Now all he had to do was find a way to guide the monsters... guide them to complete his goal...
Unfortunately, that would have to wait until he became strong enough to walk home first. With a sigh, he lay back down and tried to will the very last remnants of his magic into his injuries so that he could return home.