towerofanimus | 02 - Dragon Knight

Entry tags:

02 - Dragon Knight

Characters: Kain Highwind, Cecil Harvey, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, and maybe even you!
Setting: Cafeteria, various high places, the dorms (Room 4-16 specifically)
Format: Prose to start, will follow whichever you prefer.
Summary: Modifications finished, Kain does his duty as a loyal servant of the administrators. Mostly. Details about his modifications can be found here.
Warnings: Violence, death, body horror, all the things that this event implies. If tagging either open prompt, please clarify if you are okay with Kain killing your character. Likewise, if you think your character would kill him, let me know!

Cafeteria - open to all
Kain had vanished with the others, and reappeared with the others, and was changed like the others. Perhaps not as terribly as some. He could still walk, still see, still touch, still act... All that had been done (if that could be considered 'all') was that most of the parts of a black dragon had been grafted to him. His helm and what little armor the Tower had given him were already very dragon-like. This was just a grotesque exaggeration of his normal look. The dragon's maw even obscured his face in the way that he was accustomed to. Only someone that dared venture close could see the stitching, see where human and dragon flesh and bone were forcibly merged.

And venturing close was, perhaps, not the best of ideas. For it was his job to patrol the tower and make sure that no one was misbehaving. And everywhere he looked, every time he made a pass around the cafeteria, someone seemed to be misbehaving. Putting feet on the tables. Taking too many nutrition bars. Talking too loudly. To his altered, droned brain, it was all absolutely unacceptable.

If you're the one 'misbehaving'? Prepare to have your day unpleasantly interrupted by an angry dragon man with a spear.

-

Floor 4, 38, 45, 81 (Or Anywhere with an open-air view) - open to all
His administrator-imposed patrol took him from one end of the tower to the other, but sometimes sense returned to him. Sometimes he could recall who he really was, and what he really believed, and how things ought to really be. And it weighed upon him heavily and painfully. It was at times like these when things were at their worst and his guilt gnawed at him most fiercely that he sought the sky and the clouds. And so you'll find the Dragoon, hands pressed to the glass windows of the observation levels, or standing in the middle of a staircase and staring out into the distance. He would tense at anyone's approach, however. Those wings grafted to his back would even twitch.

"...please. Leave me. Leave here. I cannot promise what I might do." His voice is thick with sorrow, and hushed with fear. Perhaps you're the sort to listen to that sort of plea. Perhaps you're the sort to boldly ignore it.

-

Room 4-16 - Closed to Cecil and Diarmuid
This was the longest that his grip on himself had lasted, as far as he could tell. He hadn't blanked out. He hadn't lashed out at some random bystander. Perhaps it was safe for him to fully, properly look in to Cecil's location. He wanted to see her and wanted to absolutely not see her, for conflicting reasons... but a desire for comfort and for reassurance and for certainty that she was alright won out. He hadn't spotted her while patrolling, and she wasn't in her room on the third dorm floor... but while inspecting the fourth, he caught a hint of her voice. And it was coming from Diarmuid's room.

Ah, now that brought forth some conflicted emotions. What was she doing there, in that man's room? Was he taking more 'certain measures' with her? What business of his was it if he was? None of this had settled in his head to any real satisfaction by the time he had reached the doorway. With one hand on the doorframe, he leaned on it, head lifted, peering out from the dragon's maw that obscured his face.

"Cecil?"

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chaos couldn't say why so many people were coming up to this floor. Normally, he wouldn't mind..but it was horrific to see people he knew and people he didn't know be mutilated, their free will distorted. When he saw and sensed Kain, he nodded, but he did not leave the lounge. Instead, he chose to look at the stars as he spoke. It wasn't to be rude..it was to make sure he didn't stay on this floor for long and further harm this person.

"..Do not worry. I will leave soon. But..I am sorry that you have been twisted like this. It is horrible."

That someone dared talk to him for even a few moments was a comfort. Kain began to turn his head, a motion done out of habit, but he stopped himself. No. Best not to find reason to disapprove of the voice, to lose himself and commit violence upon it.

"I do not suffer as much as some. Save your pity for them."

He paused, then, nails drawing slowly along the glass.

"...do I know you?"

If chaos could be a comfort for even a few minutes, than he would be glad to help out.

"You may not suffer as much as some..but others may not suffer as much as you. What is happening to everyone right now is horrible..but that does not mean that I will stay silent to everyone's pain. We have not spoken before though. You don't have to worry."

Kain wasn't sure that he cared for that logic. But he couldn't dispute it, and so made a faint grunt of acknowledgement. "To be in this tower is to suffer, isn't it? I've heard that. I understand all the more clearly, now."

He sighed deeply, the wings on his back twitching. "...how long have you been here? How long has this gone on?"

In his mind, chaos sighed. Yes, this Tower was torture for some..but for others..

"..It is a terrible place to be for some people. Others may not mind the conditions so much."

Not that chaos was one of those people.

"I have been here for..about five or six months. This experiment has just started, but cruel games like this have been happening far longer than I've been here."

Edited 2013-04-15 14:59 (UTC)

"I shudder to think of where someone might be from, if they don't mind these conditions." If it had been possible for the mood to be even the slightest bit light, Kain would have laughed. His attempt came out as a muffled croak, instead.

"That long... and longer still. And what has been done about this?" His head snaps about abruptly and he looks to chaos, eyes wild and intense and bloodshot, peering out from beneath the dragon's maw.

"..It might not be the conditions a person grew up in that made them not mind these conditions. It could have been a great number of things."

chaos knew this, after all. He had watched human behavior for six thousand years, so he knew at least a little about it. While chaos's face didn't show any anger, fear, or shock, he did ready his gloves, just in case Kain decided to attack.

"People have been fighting, trying to get any information they can to defeat the Administrators and restore our universes. It is a long fight..and I am not sure what the end will be. But that has been happening."

No horror on chaos's face. That surprised him. And that made him wonder if he was more capable of defending himself than he looked. But that wouldn't matter, surely? He still had a hold on himself. He was certain of it.

"How can we fight them? They don't even seem to show themselves. Do they seal themselves away somewhere?" It was easier to focus on something that wasn't his own suffering. And easiest of all to focus on taking revenge upon those that did this to him. "...I must act. I must. But I must know more..."

chaos was. You couldn't be the failsafe of the universe and not have some power behind you, even though the majority of chaos's power was sealed away, thankfully. However, it seemed, for the moment, that Kain had control over himself. For the moment.

"They seal themselves away in the basement of the Tower. And since they do not show themselves, we must descend to them and make sure that we can fight them. We all want to act..but we must be patient and find out a lot of information before we can do so."

"...there's a basement." His head lifts as he says that. It's a bit of a revelation. Something he hadn't considered. "I see. I hadn't considered that. But that makes sense, a tower can only go so far up, but..."

And then suddenly, he stiffens, eyes glazing over.

chaos was about to reply to Kain..but then he saw that the person's eyes had glazed over. This..did not bode well. Walking backwards, chaos spoke, readying his gloves, He didn't want to fight if it wasn't necessary, but if it was..

"Are you alright?"

The moment the sound of a voice outside reached her ears, Cecil fell silent, surprise crossing her features, and she raised her hand for quiet, for the conversation between herself and Diarmuid to come to a halt. She was not sure if she was imagining things or not, but she strained her ears all the same and when she only heard light scratching, she rose from the edge of the bed where she was seated and grabbed her shield.

"I thought I heard... Kain..." she whispered, her eyes fixed on the door, blood pounding in her ears from a sudden rush of adrenaline. She was afraid, but if it was truly Kain outside, she had to know, and so she stepped forward to answer the door.

Diarmuid also hears the voice and while he doesn't know Kain as well as Cecil, he is almost positive it is the dragoon's voice. However, that doesn't put him much at ease, not with everything that has been going on over the last few days.

"Yes, I believe I heard him as well. Still please, be careful. We don't know if anything has happened to him," Warnings aside, Diarmuid doesn't try to stop her from answering the door. Instead, he stays close at her side, alert and ready to summon his weapon should it prove necessary.

Warnings from inside the room. Warnings and worry. He honestly couldn't blame him, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Be wary of Kain, you don't know what to expect, he might turn on you in an instant...

No. No. He would not let that happen.

Hearing steps coming towards the door, he backed away. Best not to be looming too close. He looked frightful, and spooking whoever answered the door would not make things go any smoother. Though the moment the door opened, he turned his head away. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't let himself be seen like this. But...

If she wasn't already accustomed to the horrors of the Tower, she may have screamed. No, that's not right. She would have screamed if she wasn't so appalled that the sound died right in her throat. It's one of Jason's abominations, but it's so much worse than that, because it's familiar. Cecil can see the outline of the familiar face inside the dragon's mouth and she knows who it is before he says anything.

The white knight drops her shield onto the floor and gasps sharply, raising her hand to her mouth, in an attempt to muffle the mortified sound. It's too late though and Cecil instead stretches her arm outwards towards the dragon knight.

"Kain... why..." she struggles to speak, reaching past the frame of the door so she can take her friend's now mutilated wrist. "...We should have stayed together."

Diarmuid's first instinct is to grab a hold of Cecil and pull her back into the room and away from the...creature, but her horrified response gives him pause and causes him to look closer. Kain's modifications are so horrible that they make what was done to his brother pale in comparison. Honestly, Diarmuid finds himself feeling ashamed that he had ever questioned if Jason was a monster or just a scientist.

The answer to that question is obvious.

"Kain...are you in pain? Is there something we can do to help you?" Diarmuid is still tensed, wary of the other man. It's not that he doesn't trust him. It's that he doesn't trust what has been done to him. Not after what had happened with his brother.

He grimaces when Cecil takes a hold of his wrist. It's indeed mutilated, skin still raw from being recently stitched. Though the pain of that, really, is nothing compared to the pain of bringing Cecil such grief.

I shouldn't have come.

"Had we remained together, this might have happened to you. I... I still wasn't certain if..." His voice fails him, and he gives only a weak and half-hearted effort at pulling his wrist away. He's awkwardly silent for a few more moments, not wanting to enter, wanting to leave... but there's Diarmuid.

"Can I be healed? Can this be undone? Can either of you do that?" He sounds doubtful when directing it at him, but he casts a glance back to Cecil, and there's... hope to it. White magic, Cecil could heal, Cecil had healed him before, not of anything like this, but...

The white knight doesn't really wait for Diarmuid to permit Kain entrance into the room. She leads him inside and helps him sit on the floor with her while she holds his now monstrous hands in hers. She's pained, but she's also angry beyond belief that this is what Jason has done to her friends.

"You know I can't..." she answers him quietly, her voice tight and strained. "Are you in any pain? Physically? I can ease that, but that's all."

Diarmuid is torn over what he should do and that is why he does not stop Cecil from leading Kain into the room. After all, the pain on her face reminds him so much of the pain he had felt when he had first seen his brother, and Kain's modification are so much more extreme than Cu Chulainn's were.

Yet, as much as he just wants to let her comfort Kain, Diarmuid cannot let himself relax. Relaxing with his brother had lead not only to his own death, but Waver's as well. That is why, he remains standing rather stiffly behind Cecil, eyes watching Kain closely.

"I am afraid when it comes to magic, I will be of no help as it has never been in me. However, if there is something else I can do to aid you, you need only say it."

Kain lets himself be pulled in with more than a bit of reluctance. This felt like somewhere he ought not be. But if Cecil can promise even a bit of respite, and if he can be truly sure that she's well, he'll relent. He sits. He keeps his head bowed.

"If you can ease the pain even a bit, I would be grateful. Very grateful." He shifts his wrists, then, simply letting his fingertips rest against her hands. It's easier. Less uncomfortable. Less pressure on those parts that shouldn't be part of him.

"...perhaps you can put my mind at ease. Please tell me that these things do not go unresisted. Please tell me that this will not stand. That there's something that can be done..!"

It's more difficult this evening for Cecil to use her magic. She lacks the focus and calmness of center that performing white spells requires and she has to try and fail a couple of times before she's able to cast Esuna and soothe the pains of the other knight. She raises her arm so that the violet glow of the magic rinses over Kain's horrific new form, but she wishes she could do more. Maybe Rosa would be able to, if either world version was here, but they're not and Cecil firmly tells herself that drowning in the hypotheticals won't help anyone.

"Kain, I... I don't know... Some people fight the retrieval units when they come for us, but I've never heard of it working." Her mind goes to Tohko immediately, but she remembers that she promised she would keep her secret. But lying to Kain...? It doesn't sit well with her. "We'll figure out something. I promise you I'll find some way to stop them from hurting more people. I promise."

"Unfortunately, she is right. As far as I know any attempts to rebel via physical violence have failed because they can so easily shut down our special abilities and then overwhelm us. We live very much at their whims, but that doesn't mean we should give up. If attacking directly won't work, there is always attacking indirectly. If we work together, there is the chance someone will come up with a plan that will work," Diarmuid pauses, letting out a frustrated sigh. "It is unfortunate that there are people here who would rather cause divisions between us than let us work together to help each other."

Diarmuid crosses his arms over his chest thinking of Tohko and her plans. He hasn't heard from her lately and should probably stop by the library to see if there is anything he can do to help her.

"Fortunately, while those few may slow us, I don't think they will stop us. I am sure there are people with plans out there already. I can only hope that those who are needed to make sure those plans are successful aren't left in the dark because of mistrust being spread by others. This isn't about one person or another. It is about all of us."

"I... I see..." His pain eased by Cecil's magics, his voice softens. So there's nothing concrete that they know of? Then they'd have to come up with something, together. "An indirect plan... I've heard tell that the ones in charge are hidden away somewhere beneath the tower. Has anyone ever confirmed this? Been there? Surely there would be someone with the talent to sneak in."

He looks like he has some hope now. His latest idea hasn't been dismissed and ground into dust. He nods to Diarmuid and smiles at Cecil. "If others have plans, I wish very much to be a part of them. I wish to do something, to--"

Then his head gave a sudden jerk to the left, pupils narrowing to tiny specks. Without another word and without so much as a warning, he grasped at Cecil's wrist and sprang upwards, aiming to twist the limb behind her and break her arm. He had other ways to harm others than simply using a spear. And right now his only thought, his entire being was kill Cecil Harvey.

Edited 2013-04-25 05:28 (UTC)

"A group did infiltrate the lower levels a month and a half ago," the white knight answers, her gaze dropping to her hands where they rest folded in her lap, "and they paid terribly for it." She thinks of Feferi and John and what they told everyone on the network.

She opens her mouth to reassure Kain that they will no longer idly stand by while the administrators continued to wreak havoc on the lives of the refugees, but her words are cut off before they ever roll of her tongue, replaced instead by a sharp scream of pain when the dragoon suddenly lunges and snatches her up from the floor, efficiently snapping the bone in her bicep in two. Blinding pain sears throughout her entire arm, her body seizing up immediately in reaction. Cecil fights through the pain and grits her teeth, forcing herself to remember to breathe.

Diarmuid's blood freezes when he sees Kain's eyes change. For a moment, his brother's crazed eyes flash before his vision. He knows what that means, but even as his mouth begins to shout a warning it is already too late. Cecil's pained cry echoes in his ears, but he pushes it away, springing into motion himself. His spear shimmers into existence in his hands and is aimed mere fractions of seconds later at Kain's throat.

He expects the other man to move out of the way which is fine because his goal isn't to kill Kain. It is to get Cecil away from him. Once that is done, they will decide where to go from there. And if death is the only way to stop him...

...Diarmuid will not hesitate the way he did with his brother. Kain will find the release he so desperately needs.

There's no satisfaction on Kain's face when he hears Cecil's bone snap, just bared teeth and an animal-like viciousness. Without a moment's hesitation he brings an arms up and around to grasp at her head, brace against the rest of her body, and then snap her neck, because Cecil Harvey is too precious to be allowed to live. It is a very good thing that Diarmuid has such a fast reaction time.

His eyes widened as he realized and comprehended that there was a spear at his throat. And then he released Cecil, shoved her at Diarmuid, and those wings upon his back gave a powerful flap, aiding his spring backwards. He had no weapon, he had purposely come without a spear in hopes of averting calamity if just such a thing as this happened, but there were spikes grafted to him. Those could be used to hurt. Those could be used to kill.

He looks to Diarmuid, snorts like a beast, looks back to Cecil, the one that must die first, and then pounces at her.

In spite of her pain, Cecil's reflexes kick in just in time to stop herself from slamming into Diarmuid. She throws herself to the side to avoid getting in Diarmuid's way and lands on her back not far from Kain. She scrambles quickly backwards for her shield and lifts it to cover her body when the dragoon attacks again. She uses her knees and the power in her leg muscles and her one good arm to keep the dragon knight from reaching her, the shield she continues to hold up acting as an efficient barrier between them for now.

Cecil can keep this up for a while, but sooner or later, she'll tire and she has a feeling that that moment will come a lot sooner than the moment where Kain reverts or gives up or tires himself out. Her sword is easily within reach, but she makes no effort to extend a part of her body in order to bring it to her side. She doesn't want to risk enraging Kain further and she doesn't want to hurt him, even if it means he's going to kill her.

"Kain! Please! Stop! Remember who you are!"

The thing that Diarmuid is focused on right now is keeping himself between Cecil and Kain as much as possible. He is glad when he sees her manage to grab her shield and use it as a wall to hide behind. He is also glad to see she isn't attempting to fight. Right now, with as emotionally attached to Kain as she is and with her injuries, if she tried to fight, she would probably just end up getting them both killed.

"Cecil stay behind the shield and put your back to the wall. Let me handle this!" The words are probably unnecessary, but Diarmuid says them anyway. Once he has done so, his attention comes fully back to Kain.

He needs to slow the dragoon down. He needs to ground him. Both of those facts make Diarmuid's first actions clear. Wings. Legs. They need to go. Once Kain has been slowed down, then they can try to talk to the man again but not until his danger has been reduced.

Spear at the ready, Diarmuid dashes in at Kain. His first swing is made toward Kain's legs, but it is a distraction, a false attack that inhumanly fast changes direction at the very last second to aim for Kain's wings instead.

Cecil's an ace when it comes to defending. The spikes that Kain had intended to drive into her instead scrape and deflect against her shield. One even snaps. And she manages to give him enough of a push back that he can't simply keep swinging away at her. He's steady on his feet, though, and alert enough to see that Diarmuid is coming in at him.

Heedless of Cecil's pleading, he takes an instant to gauge what Diarmuid's attack seems likely to be. And so he jumps, again gaining height with a flap of those new wings, clearing that first swing with ease. He had no idea that it was a false move, and the spear slashes through the thick membrane, damaging it and driving him back to the ground. He's gritting his teeth, he's making a pained sound... that hurt. But that doesn't matter. They must die. If that means he must deal with Diarmuid first, so be it. Though he'd prefer a spear, he still has the new weapons the administrators had gifted him with. Powerful legs push off from the floor, propelling him at the lance-wielder at a nearly inhuman speed, head lowered. He intended to gore the man, with the horns upon the dragon's head.

The charge isn't exactly a surprise to Diarmuid. It only makes sense for Kain, deprived of one enhancement, to move to his next one. The sheer burst of speed does surprise him a little, but it's not enough to throw him. He merely notes it and adjusts his planning to account for it.

When Kain gets close to him, Diarmuid doesn't try to dodge by going to either side. There really isn't enough room to do so. Instead, he goes up and over Kain. There is risk in this move since Kain might still be able to leap high even without the use of his wings, but Diarmuid hopes that the man will be focused enough on the charge that he won't think to leap up and grab him.

Once over Kain, Diarmuid plans to land in a roll, spinning back and striking out low toward the man's legs. There will be no false attack this time. Just a slash and swing so swift that most eyes have no hope of trying to follow it.

Leaping? Was it leaping? Kain knew plenty about that. But he had also built up momentum that couldn't be immediately redirected. He planted a foot, pivoted about, folded in the one wing that could still be folded in, and sprang over Diarmuid's strike at his legs almost entirely by accident.

Such a fast attack, that was! But there was no room in Kain's mind for wonder or surprise. There was only death and violence and a need for efficiency. He landed, he leapt again, and dove at Diarmuid with the intent of driving one of the spikes on his wrist through him.

Diarmuid seems to realize almost immediately that his strike to Kain's legs isn't going to connect, so even as the other man is beginning to dive at him, the servant is already moving backward out of range of those spikes. He half hopes that Kain's strike will be hard enough to abort that he will end up driving the spikes into the floor and be stuck there. It might only be for a few seconds, but that few seconds is an eternity to one as fast as Diarmuid is.

As he finishes his movement away, Diarmuid flips his spear so it is reversed in his hand intending to use the spear's end to try and break some of Kain's spikes since he had seen that they were breakable before. Pushing himself to go even faster than in his previous attack, he dashes back in at Kain.

Kain's fist came forward with ferocity, and it was probably a good thing that Diarmuid had avoided it. The spike wasn't so strong as to pierce the floor, alas. It simply broke, and Kain remained free. Diarmuid's swing of his spear shattered the rightmost horn on his head and several along his right arm, but still, he could move. And move he did, diving to place one of the beds between the both of them, and then with an inhuman roar and strength born of unshackled madness he flipped the bed clear on over, at Diarmuid.

As soon as the mattress and frame are airborne, he begins a crouch to prepare for another wild leap. He's fast, he's strong, but he's not really himself and those wings are a hindrance as much as they are a gift. Diarmuid may well catch him at an awkward moment.

In the face of such madness and ferocity, many would lose their focus, but Diarmuid has been in enough battles that he knows madness such as this will eventually start to work against Kain leaving him vulnerable. It might be only for a split second, but battles are decided all the time on split second actions.

As soon as the bed is in the air, Diarmuid shifts into spirit form. He has no idea if Kain will still be able to sense him or not, but that isn't the point. If vanishing even for a second gives him even a moment of advantage, he is going to take it. Once he does this, he dashes under the flying bed, pushing his speed up even higher than before. He angles his spear end in front of him, hoping to break one or both of Kain's knees with his swing. Whether or not he connects, at the end of the swing, Diarmuid flips his spear aiming to drive the point of it up at Kain's throat.

It was never a fight that Kain could have kept up forever. Just a fight where a lot of damage could have been done if not ended quickly. And Diarmuid seems to have successfully ended it. His swing shattered the both of Kain's knees, dropping him to the ground, immobile. The bed hit the floor with a resounding crash, and then his voice rings out an instant later, an incoherent mess of half-formed syllables and pain.

The spearpoint at his throat draws him back into the moment. A palm presses against the floor, and he uselessly tries to pull himself backwards. "Hnngh...! C... Cecil...?!" If he has the room to tip his head back, he'll tip it back, turning wild and wide eyes this way and that. Was she well? Was she alive? After what he had done? He had no idea. But that didn't change what he had done. His eyes flick suddenly up to Diarmuid.

"End me. End me...!"

Most of what transpires is a blur to her, the men both too fast a pair of warriors for Cecil to completely follow every subtlety and nuance of movement in their mad dashing. She wants to scream for them to stop, for Diarmuid to not hurt Kain, but she's rendered frozen by fear and shock and pain. Her mind is screaming at her to do something, but she cannot and what's worse is that she doesn't want to.

When the dragoon seems to regain his sanity, she drops her shield immediately and shakily she makes to scramble across the floor to him without thinking.

"I— No! I-I can't! Kain, please—" Cecil doesn't realize she's sobbing by now, though her voice quivers more than it has in nearly half a year. "I can't, I'm sorry... Kain, forgive me!"

Diarmuid wants to be relieved that Kain seems to have finally regained his control, but he knows he can't let his guard down just yet. As much as he wants to think the fight is over and that things will be okay, he knows better.

The tower doesn't work that way. Jason doesn't work that way.

"Try to calm both of yourselves. Cecil, he will need healing. Kain, she is all right. You need to steady yourself before your control slips away again," Diarmuid turns his gaze to them each in turn as he speaks, his expression kind though his spear remains at Kain's throat just in case.

"No...!" He sees Cecil coming closer and attempts to recoil, again uselessly. Instead he lifts a hand, mostly to ward her off, but he'll push if he has to. But that won't be enough to dissuade her, will it? "NO!"

...which trails off into a sound of considerable agony, only partially stifled through clenched teeth. His head lolls to the side, and he breathes heavily. Already, he feels certain that he'll lose himself to madness again. Any moment now, and he would be unshackled from this pain and causing no end of suffering.

"Please..." Still through clenched teeth, he tilts his head upwards to look at Diarmuid. "Do it. There's no... I can't. I can't control it. Kill me!"

And though it's unspoken... 'Please, put me out of this misery.'

The situation is hauntingly similar to Cecil's memories of battling her world's counterpart to this Kain. Of course, here it is far more evil — far more painful — because of the mutilation that Jason has done to Kain and the paladin doesn't need to hear the dragoon begging to know he suffers more than could ever be explained. It is cruel and shameful to let this happen to him, yet the idea of murdering him, even to save him, goes against her very nature. He doesn't deserve to be forced to live such an existence, but Cecil is weak and she can't raise her sword to him despite that she was able to do it for another in the Tower. Her best friend... the person who comes to mind first and foremost when she thinks of people she wants to protect here... and she won't help him.

"I'm sorry... Kain—" She glances to Diarmuid, holding his spear to the dragon knight's throat. He doesn't even know Kain and even he is a better friend to him right now. Despite Kain's instances, she keeps moving towards him, trying to get back on her feet at the very least.

Diarmuid isn't sure what does it. Is it Kain's desperation or Cecil's internal battle to decide what to do--a battle that is clear to see in the pain on her face and in her voice? Whatever it is, he finds his own emotion being pushed away--separated from him--in a clear sign of the knight rising within him to do what must be done even if it goes against everything he believes is right.

Killing one to ease their pain and undo the horrors of the tower is not new to him. He has had to do it before even though he hates it with every fiber of his being. Diarmuid came from a time, after all, where one did not give up the battle or life until one dropped dead in the dirt. To have another end your pain when you could still go on and perhaps save someone else before things were over was cowardice.

But those rules don't apply in a place like this where bodies and wills can be so twisted and death is not permanent. In fact, it can often be a gateway to returning to normal. Here, it would be cowardly of him not to give the release Kain is begging for.

Even if it still feels wrong deep inside.

"Are you certain this is what you want? If so, as a fellow warrior, I will give you what you seek and hope that you find some measure of peace once you again awaken."

Kain's eyes squeezed tightly shut. For as much as he wanted it to all be over, this was shameful. It was a terrible way to die, mutilated and pleading and sobbing. And to die... that was a great unknown that he had never been in a hurry to explore. There was a sound in his throat... was it uncertainty?

Cecil's voice washed over him. Her tears, her apologies, they pulled at his heart. Slowly, slowly, his right hand raised, reaching for her. "Don't-"

And then he jerked, his eyes flying open, pupils tiny pinpricks. That hand that sought comfort instead sought to strike at his dearest friend, and that uncertain noise became a bestial growl. With the lance at his throat, it was suicidal, but that twisted administrator-granted compulsion cared not one bit.

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02 - Dragon Knight

Floor 81

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I do think they're actually roommates, eheh.

Huh..so they are. But have they spoken before? ><;

I believe they've been consistently missing each other, so... no. o_o

There you go then! They haven't spoken. ^^;

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Ack! I lost this in my inbox! D:

It's alright! Things like that happen sometimes! Don't worry about it! :3

Room 4-16

Room 4-16

Room 4-16

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Note: As long as it is okay with everyone, next time Diarmuid's turn comes, he will kill Kain.

I am okay with this.