Memoria: Memoria - Group 2
Characters: Relm, Percy, Vanille
Progress: In-Progress
Summary: The last leg of memoria
Location: Memoria
Date: ???
Warnings: The world ending. Also whatever else.
Relm was tired of this place by now. She'd been tired a long time ago. And now she was - even more tired. She clung to the warrior's cloak (probably covering it with bits of rubbed-off dried paint in the process) and followed.
It was a sudden swell of magic that caught her attention. Not the kind that was twisted and broken and reformed until it was fire or paint or life or something real but the pure, living moving kind. The kind that ran through the veins of the espers. The kind that had run through the veins of her ancestors until it was diluted beyond recognition. The fragments of it rushed through the air, slicing through everything they touched like butter. The sound came next, of rushing wind and the mechanisms that worked the Blackjack and Kefka's laughter. Above, a floating landmass was torn apart by the fragments of magic and crumbled into dust leaving only what lay at its heart, a madman laughing and three statues.
On the deck of the Blackjack, Relm buried her face in the cloak.
"I don't wanna."
Progress: In-Progress
Summary: The last leg of memoria
Location: Memoria
Date: ???
Warnings: The world ending. Also whatever else.
Relm was tired of this place by now. She'd been tired a long time ago. And now she was - even more tired. She clung to the warrior's cloak (probably covering it with bits of rubbed-off dried paint in the process) and followed.
It was a sudden swell of magic that caught her attention. Not the kind that was twisted and broken and reformed until it was fire or paint or life or something real but the pure, living moving kind. The kind that ran through the veins of the espers. The kind that had run through the veins of her ancestors until it was diluted beyond recognition. The fragments of it rushed through the air, slicing through everything they touched like butter. The sound came next, of rushing wind and the mechanisms that worked the Blackjack and Kefka's laughter. Above, a floating landmass was torn apart by the fragments of magic and crumbled into dust leaving only what lay at its heart, a madman laughing and three statues.
On the deck of the Blackjack, Relm buried her face in the cloak.
"I don't wanna."