in which there is a creeper contest, some gore and Hojo rescue by a fairy godmage

[sandinmyboots]

Who: Kefka, Hojo and Lucrecia
Where: near the ocean
When: just after Hojo's arrivalWhat: A god with a plan and a scientist in love try to save a monster. Hilarity ensues

Comments

[moralmisconduct]

Images were turning in his head at the speed of a film on fastforward, but the chronology was jumbled and nonsensical. Muscle memory dictated the clearest of snippets - even though the last time he had been near-death was decades ago, back plastered to the ground with dried blood and the stony, scornful gazes of the old Wutainese Gods staring into eternity above him.

He saw the eyes of those same Gods now, clear as day. War-Gods, the guardians of Da Chao. Possessing none of the serpentine grace of the Water God Leviathan, the only one he had loved as a child.

And Sephiroth's eyes, by contrast, had been closed at their last meeting, serene in his chrysalis, but vulnerable in metamorphosis. The boy had deviated from the path Hojo had intended for him long ago, and Hojo was glad to see him go, and grow. But Sephiroth, still bitter and vengeful in that very human way, needed guidance to truly transcend.

What was a father to do?

Dr. Hojo, I presume?

He didn't move, couldn't move because of the pain, but the address called back some higher consciousness. Doctor. Why yes, he was a doctor. Spent six years in medical school before deciding it was all a huge waste of time. Why bother fixing, when you could create? Why bother correcting errors, when you could design perfection from birth? And speaking of Gods, some would call his a God Complex though nothing could be further from the truth. Only God could be content with the flaws of nature. Hojo had only the mind of a scientist. A scientist who did not tolerate failures-

He groaned, the sound raw from deep within his throat, as he attempted again to raise himself. His eyes - or whatever sensory organs accounted for sight in his current state - opened and couldn't interpret the scene before him. A foreign place, a foreign face, though the sound of beating wings was familiar. He wanted to answer, wanted to laugh. No. Not Doctor Hojo anymore. Another pawn for JENOVA. Defeated by my own desire and my own failed experiments-

But another voice soon interrupted his train of thought.

A very well-known voice indeed.

And he was flailing again, the alien lower body twisting in snake-like motion (not like Leviathan at all, truthfully), the dorsal projection swinging in a wide arc attempting to catch the source of the cries and anyone in the way. Warm blood oozed as crusted wounds reopened, dead skin sent flying, and he was baring his teeth like a trapped animal in self-defence.

"Don't. Don't touch me!"

[sandinmyboots]

"Lucrecia! Don't touch him!"

Kefka breaks into a run, Haste speeding his feet, spells at his lips but (the shaking, proteins disintigrating and magic still shedding and at this rate)--

"You're only going to make it worse! We can't move him yet; we have to stabilize the magic and make sure that moving him isn't going to make his injuries worse! And you're agitating him!"

He skids next to Hojo, ducking the swinging spine by going into a roll and coming back up on his knees, spreading his arms wide to try and separate Hojo and Lucrecia. Hojo's magic presses into him, he can almost taste the decay of cells one by one, just like in the labs but this time, Cid won't be here to pluck magic from some unlucky test subject and shore things up and there's no painkillers, would he even do well with morphine--

"Lucrecia, calm down. That's an order." His eyes flash pink as he looks up at her, mind racing. "Collect yourself while I tend to him."

And he turns back, looking down at Hojo, eyes darting to magic-blood-muscle-wound--so many, he'll have to reconstruct him piece by piece. She'd obey him. She better. Should he call for help? The gods sing in his mind, suggestions, and he remembers Kuja and his magic and his alliance--not yet. Soon. Maybe. He'll see.

"And you, Hojo, calm yourself."

[moralmisconduct]

Calm himself? The whip-like extension strikes sand and snaps, two pieces still precariously held together by a thin band of muscle and skin. At the same time, Hojo screams as his body returns to motionlessness, the buildup of lactic acid and agony forcing him to stop, to gulp air down into compromised lungs, to scream again.

Focus returns in bits and pieces, accompanied by increasingly blinding panic. Because, though the process was slow, realisation had finally sunken in along with physical awareness. This was not the Lifestream. This was not Midgar. And things had not gone according to plan.

His transformation was incomplete, body unadjusted to the sudden high doses of JENOVA and Mako. Fatal disintegration, but he had predicted that, was prepared for that. After all, who cared whether he survived or not? But the canon. Sephiroth, in the Northern Crater waiting for energy... What became of the fools trying to stop the Sister Ray?

And...

Where, and how, was this?

He gasped raggedly, trying to fathom the blur of colour beside him. The one who had spoken - had Hojo heard that voice before?

"What's- Happening?" He takes another breath, and lets out another involuntary cry, entire body quaking so that he nearly bit his tongue. "Who- Are you?"

[sandinmyboots]

"Long story short, this is a pocket dimension that steals strong-willed people to keep itself stable. It stole you mid-death."

Kefka turns, casting Scan under his breath. A circle of magic forms over his eye--he mouths the measurements he reads under his breath--he's gonna have to be really careful with his Curagas. His world's magic was good at knitting things back to the way they were, a perfect healing, expelling the old and stabilizing the new, but would trapping Hojo like this be ideal? He could force a transformation, certainly, but then he'd fall over unconscious with two known amoral human experimenters and he's not that stupid. Lucrecia's nice, but he's not gonna trust her with his body.

"I'm Sir Kefka, your god in shining armor. I'm here to make sure you don't collapse into a steaming pile of protein! Unless you want to die, in which case I can do that. Lucrecia, go do something useful! Do you want this body or go back to your human one? Am I going too fast?"

[moralmisconduct]

It was difficult to concentrate, because what he wanted to concentrate on made no sense. The outrageous spectacle of a man in ridiculous garb, spewing words too fast, too fast and too strange for Hojo to grasp, and...

"Lucrecia...?" He croaked, in a tone devastating to his own ears. No. No. It's impossible, but still-

Survival instinct finally resurfacing along with his mind, some form of logical thought started to take over. He fell limp, trying not to damage his broken body further, and attempted to think though the pain.

Mind over matter. Mind over matter.

"Human. I need to be- Human." He tasted more blood, spat it back out at the stranger's feet. "This. Is reversible, but I don't have. The strength..."

Even as he spoke, the blade-like right forelimb began to shrink, separate into carpus metacarpus phalanges tendons- But the process halted almost as soon as it started, his systems working too hard merely to keep him alive.

[sandinmyboots]

"Lucrecia. Go to town, get me healing supplies and painkillers--and Kuja King, this'll be less risky alone and he specializes in this sort of thing. Then find me a secure place to take Hojo."

Kefka kneels next to Hojo--human, of course, back to the basics, but--if he had a world to work with, this'd be cake, steal life from the world and use it to shape Hojo into something new at once like he shaped the whole world once, but all he's got is him and what's on the beach.

....well, he can work with that.

Organ damage is the first thing he'll have to deal with; Kefka closes his eyes--there's a giant crab a few meters into the water, swarms of fish and algae, grass under their feet and small trees creeping towards them, wolves around--

"Hojo, I will heal you. It will take some time to make you human, but I can take you off death's door. This will probably hurt, but I don't know if a painkiller wouldn't kill you."

He yanks. A nearby willow wilts, crumbles into dust in seconds, the insects within it shrieking before following--

And now he's cooking with fire. He forms a diamond with his thumbs and forefingers and starts lacing the magical energy through it, pulling it deep into Hojo's body and starting to tie his organs back together, slowly taking them back to--

But the raw magic in Hojo's body is trying to yank them back, (what is a dextro-amino acid and why won't it die) and it looks like he'll have to pull the biochemical structure back. Another tree crumbles into dust and he clears Hojo's trachea, splits his mouth open to what should be the right shape (a spellcaster tongue, capable of pronouncing beyond humanity, teeth will remain blocky until he's not trying to keep Hojo from dying, dammit) and then goes back around to work on pulling broken bones away from organs and purifying them, slowly pushing the raw magic out where he can't pull it into his own and re-weave Hojo better. He finds the nerves and numbs them, to try and keep the pain from making it worse, and

What the hell is that ring on a string doing there? He does not want to have Hojo absorb the ring. He says something--he is too high on magic to care what exactly he says, but he tells her to get rid of it.

[moralmisconduct]

There was green in front of his eyes and his mouth was open, but nothing came out. He was being ripped to shreds from the inside out; the speed of the repair process brutal, years of regenerative potential like the weight of a world crushing down on him at once.

Breathe breathe breathe. Increase tidal volume, decrease respiratory rate, maximise oxygen intake but Gods it hurts it's cold Gods Gods Gods-

The images hallucinations delusions were back, and he was watching several moments of his life simultaneously. Lucrecia laughing at something he said, raising slender fingers to her mouth while the other hand slapped him gently on the shoulder. Ashen-faced Gast putting paperwork into his suitcase, while beside him the infant Sephiroth looked ridiculously small in Ifalna's arms. Hollander's corpse laid out on a metal table, representative tissue samples floating in jars of formalin. And Lucrecia again. Lucrecia again, pale and gloriously white like a thing carved out of the crystals that had engulfed her.

Hojo raised his head, gulped in air and it was suddenly easier, fluid drained from his lungs. He raised his head to look at the face above him, seen through a sheen of green, to wonder in awe what manner of magic or science this was, or maybe some horrendous combination...

"I'm going to live," he hissed, to no one in particular, but self-hypnosis was so often effective. "Humanity is nothing!"

[sandinmyboots]

He's seeing rainbows. The world is ozone and salt and blood, gunpowder itching on his skin and he wants to peel it off and destroydestroyDESTROY

And here is his skin, fractured bones, and we will heal that slowly, crinkling in agony and isn't it funny? Life is the most painful thing!

No, death is! Look how he struggles to avoid it! And that body--if it just had a few more tweaks, it'd be perfect for battle! Balance the tail and spin it into the sky!

The change is the most painful thing. He hasn't realized that humanity is nothing means he is nothing, that human, thou human, not as Sir Kefka realized that to destroy meant to die himself. He hates himself and hates others and loves himself sickly, a warped thing, changing himself so that he's a broken spiral. His hands crackle and shed their exoskeletons, muscle bared and hidden by the warring magics--

let's kill him let's kill him let's kill him let's kill him let's kill him let's kill him let's kill him let's kill him let's kill he's not trustworthy and no more mad science and we are all we need aren't we and he's in so much pain, it's more merciful to end it, end it, end it like I won't end

"Live! Live so you can take humanity and grind it to nothing!" Kefka cries, not quite out loud but loud enough for Hojo to hear. Another tree has sunk into dust. "Live to pay back your life and show me why you inspire such hate!"

[moralmisconduct]

The fog was lifting; he screamed again, no impediment to the sound this time, vocal cords and respiratory system restored. Everything fell to pieces, smashed back together; bones becoming a slurry of minerals and undifferentiated cells and muscle fibres tearing and regrouping. The tentacle retracted; excess molecules patching anomalous deficits on his nearly human torso, and Hojo raised himself up shakily onto his palms as the scream drained away.

And fell, onto his back, blue eyes fading back into brown. The sky was as clear as the sound of rushing waves beside him, the combined smell of sand and sea and sweat and bile and blood overwhelming and nauseating.

But the pain was numb. His chest heaved, breathing returning to normal, and watched as his sense of sight deteriorated into what it was before the transformation.

Humanity was very limiting, wasn't it? But that taste of wild, unrestrained freedom had been too much, nothing he wanted to experience again in a hurry. Unless the change could be permenant, next time.

Still lying spread-eagled, he turned his head to the stranger beside him, a twisted sort of grin on his face.

"Call me uneducated in the way of religion," he said, hoarsely, bitter amusement returning to his voice, "But you're not what I pictured God to look like."

He tried to move his legs, and the still-present tail thrashed in response. Problematic.

"Or maybe you're the Devil?" He chortled, tired and still mildly disorientated. "If so, then Hell has really cleaned up since I last visited."

[sandinmyboots]

--and the power drains out as Hojo jolts the connection; the magic rebounds back to keep Kefka afloat, restoring the power of his own that he used and keeping him from completely falling apart.

He hasn't channeled that much power in so long and for so long. But his stamina's better; when he first arrived here, that would have had him asleep for a week. Now, he's just. Tired. Ow. He's going to feel that in the morning. And he's still got half a body to fix. Or have Kuja help fix. Ow ow ow ow ow ow.

But at least Hojo looks human? A human in need of a shower. And legs. Ha. And he's coherence, he didn't fry the bit he needs. Hahaha.

"First off," Kefka slurs, leaning forward to get a better view, "god isn't a beauty contest. Congratulations on remembering things from being so far from being sharp you're a spoon. Second, afterlife is not my problem. It's got...a thing. Not your stupid river thing, that's too easy to get polluted. A better thing. Why would I be a devil, anyway? Nothing's equal to gods. Third, you've still got a tail, so don't try to move, got it? I am not explaining to your dead girlfriend that you broke your spine."

[moralmisconduct]

Don't try to move. The tail swished in agitation, sending a wall of sand flying towards the other man. Hojo raised a hand and laid his wrist weakly on top of his eyes, grin still present on his face because, frankly, there was no other way to react to this situation.

He was half mutated on a beach somewhere, with what appeared to be Lucrecia Crescent and a very powerful clown. Why even bother trying to comprehend...anything?

"I suppose," he drawled lazily, wiping a sheet of dead skin from his forehead with distaste, "that if you always make this much sense when you speak, then I should wait for someone else to explain things to me."

[sandinmyboots]

Kefka sweeps his hand (he is not dealing with this) and the sand falls to the ground before it can hit him. He sighs, shakily standing up.

"Hey, you try reversing a mago-biochemical chain reaction causing a complete disintegration of most soft tissues where it's not mutating while also healing injuries from a nasty battle and making sure Lucrecia doesn't explode without a fancy pancy eugenics lab, see how well you speak afterwards. Oh, wait, you almost died!"

[fallen_stage]

While Hojo and Kefka traded their bickerings, Kuja had answered Lucrecia's call for help. He didn't know the exact circumstances of Hojo's disfigurement, but he didn't need much: just a few clean sheets and a metal tub. Just in case the body needs to be moved or cleaned.

Bethany landed on the beach not far from the group, Kuja jumping from her back with his supplies. When he reached Hojo and the others, he frowned; it wasn't as bad as it looked from the MogNet, but...

"Why is he still here? I don't need an infection or worse to be bothered about."