Tides [-Closed-]

Asher's steps were slow and methodical, as he went over what was to come. It was stupid, what he was going to do - but he'd said he would... said he could. So he had to at least try, didn't he? Maybe it was not the smartest thing - but after what had happened in Vector, he wasn't exactly feeling like the smartest of creatures right now.

Quietly, the Genome walked past the edge of the small fishing village. He reached what he was looking for in about twenty minutes - a veritable gang of people and chained animals and Fiends. Asher's heart broke for them - fiends should not be held captive like that. Not even a little bit. He'd gone for a more traditional look - a dark blue vest that was open, revealing a toned, albeit small chest and stomach, and a pair of tightly-worn pants. He'd opted for shoes - firm, steel-toed shoes. If he had to move, he'd rather not be barefoot, despite the extra grace that that afforded him.

Asher lifted one hand, bearing a simple white flag. The procession of men and women stopped, some laughing, some looking less concerned... some just seemed bored.

A single-armed man came forward, grizzled in the way that Asher suspected he might have been mauled by a beast at some point. It would explain why they had such tight holds on the fiends in their parties. Controllers weren't easy to come by - Asher'd only met one before. To have a single pair of them? That was kind of impressive. The man, with his missing arm, still carried two large swords, not unlike Asher himself, when it came to dual-wielding. Honestly, though, the boy couldn't help but wonder why.

"What'd they do, send a runt to ask for sympathy?" The man asked, voice loud enough to be heard by everyone behind him. They apparently thought it was hilarious. An uproar of laughter echoed loudly along the dirt road, and the forest on either side of it. Asher just looked at him, ignoring the group behind him.

"Listen." Asher spoke, keeping his voice down, specifically to speak to the leader. "I'm offering you a single chance. My name is Asher. I am a member of SeeD. I have offered my service protecting this village - and if you don't turn back? I'll have to stop you here and now. Call me what you want, but get you and your crew out of here." Asher's eyes were fierce and determined, a dark black-blue that was a sad reminder of how he used to be. "Think about it this way: If they didn't think I was enough - would an organization like SeeD really send someone on their own?"

It was an absurd assumption, but others had bought less things in the past. Frankly, there weren’t a huge group of people. Ten, give or take – Asher was a little worried, but in the end, he was pretty sure he could handle it.

But nothing was ever set in stone. The one-armed man looked down at him, brows furrowed in a little bit of confusion. Asher merely stared back up at him – height differences were nothing for someone as short as the Genome. He was used to looking up to other people, at least physically. The man would either do as he asked, or he wouldn’t.

The guy finally tensed up, and Asher could see the blow coming long before it started. The Genome leaned backwards, his head moving with casual grace, easily avoiding the fist that went rushing past.

“Too bad.” Asher said, a hint of regret in his voice. Asher wasn’t at full strength, he knew that much. He didn’t know how to be at full strength – he needed to figure it out. For now, though, he’d deal with this mess, and move on.


Asher moved almost imperceptibly fast, drawing his weapons from his holsters. That wouldn’t be fast enough, though – not for this many people. He hopped backwards, carefully, so as to get out of range of that bigger man. He took a deep breath, and started the scenario as best he could, focusing on himself first. He already felt himself bolstering, (+Bravery) preparing for what was to come.

The orange time-magic fluctuated around him, and he could feel himself begin to accelerate even more. (+Haste, -60MP) Without thinking, he smirked, and Pyreflies began to flood outward from his body, as well, coming at his call. They were darkened, of course, not like the Pyreflies the other Spirans would be used to. But still, they served their purpose – energy fluctuated around Asher, and his feet lifted gently off the ground, in a flutter of magical wings.

From this vantage, he was ready to really move; Asher brandished both of his weapons, feeling his focus narrow on the group. He wasn’t foolish enough to try this out without some sort of advantage, so he figured he’d start the party out right: Aiming both weapons at the group, he smirked. ”Slowra!” He called, and unleashed a haze of blue time-magic on the team.

In the meanwhile, the Cleric Mage was already moving, lifting his staff high into the sky. Asher was surprised to see a mage moving so quickly. Light danced around the crystal at the end, white and gradual. As if on cue, light shone down from the heavens, cascading over the group. Asher wasn’t sure what had happened – until he saw the sparks dancing around some of the enemies fingers. The Red Mage had somehow granted them all some effect- (+Faith).

All the while, the Berserker was charging forward, reaching towards his back to unsling one of the huge swords. Asher was too busy paying attention to the sparkling fireworks to notice. The sword came crashing down, and Asher barely had time to deflect it – he felt it graze along his shoulder. ( STR2200+425/10, x.5 = 131 ) He flinched, skidding backwards against thin air.

The Rogue was moving quickly, dragging two wickedly curved knives along the ground. This, Asher was able to see coming, and he effortlessly batted the blades aside, only concerned with the jarring sensation in his wrists. (STR 640+75/10, x.5 = 36)


Still, this was more than Asher had expected from the lot of them. His eyes narrowed, and his perceptions sharpened, as he decided to focus on the back line of enemies. (+Gun Kata) Darting forward, he pounced over the One-Armed Man, spinning as he went. Blades of light flashed into existence as he came down on the ones who held the leashes. The K-Assassin Gunblades burned furiously, as Asher dropped them through the Controller Male, squeezing the trigger as he went, to manage his Funguar, as well. ( 775+292=1067 ) Both the Controller Male and his Funguar died almost instantly.

Spinning on his heels, his other hand was already moving, following a similar cleaving path on his other side, tearing through the Controller Female and her Wasp. Pyreflies floated into the area – brighter ones, as each Fiend fell beneath his glowing blades.

Ice magic smashed into his back, the boy having not realized he’d exposed himself to the black mage female. The ice dug in to him, and he found himself face first in the dirt, though already he was moving to get back up. ( 256/2 = 128 ) His body twisted and turned in the air, as he rolled out of the way of gunfire, coming from somewhere to his left, though he still felt the bite of one or two bullet wounds catching him. ( 640/10= 64+475=539/2=270 [doublestrike] 270)

That actually hurt. Asher vanished from his place ( -10MP, Auto-dodge used ) just in time to avoid a brilliant lightning strike.

He appeared next to the Cleric – someone whom he deemed a problem, based on the simple fact that so far, he was making the rest of his team pretty freaking useful. Following his normal penchant, he blasted both the Cleric and the Gunner, though only the Cleric got a blade to the gut to go with it. (1067, Cleric, Gunner )The Gunner crashed down, bits and pieces of his stomach blown out on the ground behind him, whereas the Cleric just stared in confusion.

Again, Asher was pretty damn impressed by the fact that the Cleric was still standing – but not that impressed.

He jumped, vertically, dragging one of his flashing blades back up through the Cleric’s midsection, carving a nice cross into him. Landing on his shoulders, he used the now-limp body as a springboard, coming down on the shoulders of the Black Mage Male, with one light-blade ignited, cutting deep into his left shoulder. Similarly, Asher sprang forward, though in mid-air, he spun, so he was upside-down, aiming down the sights of his gunblades.  (1067 Cleric, Black Mage Male )

More beams of light caught the Black Mage behind the shoulders, from Asher’s rapidfire semiautomatic weapons. He landed, dropping low, and bringing his weapons around to lance through the back of the Mage’s legs, as well – though his female counterpart wasn’t safe from several rounds of gunfire. ( 1067 Black Mage Male, Black Mage Female )


He turned to face the only two fighters left on the field. A woman, with a sword as big as her body, and the one-armed man.

“I told you, didn’t I?” He said, loud enough they could both hear him. The Warrior woman looked at him, darkly – he didn’t notice, that she, apparently, had been unaffected by the Slowing magic. She looked… upset. Her body blurred, and before he’d realized what had happened, she was behind him. (350+180STR, +675DMG/2 = 364)

He hadn’t even felt the blade pass through him – he just felt the sharp burning sensation of parting flesh on his shoulder. He spun to face her, but she was blurring again, and he found himself with a similar pain on the other side. (364DMG) How she was faster than he was, he had no idea – all he knew was that freaking hurt.

Asher let out sharp breaths, as the one-armed made smirked.

“You killed our wimps. You think that means anything? Just more gil for us when we burn that village to the ground.” The Berserker dropped the sword he’d swung first, and reached behind him for the other. It gleamed bright blue, and Asher blinked at it, uncertainly.

The Berserker let out a roar, and Asher almost jumped from that alone. But he didn’t – he timed it right, and when the sword was cleaving down…

Asher was no longer there. ( Auto-dodge used, -10mp ) His eyes were dark, and he popped his knuckles twice, against the handles of the guns. He backflipped, hands becoming a blur of motion, as the energy rounds sprayed both of them with uncanny accuracy, as he landed away with a thud. ( 1067, Berserker, Warrior Female. 1067 Berserker, Warrior Female )

The noise of his landing was muffled by the noise of the woman falling – thank god.


Anger was evident in the monstrous man’s voice – but Asher was no longer concerned. One man he could take, angry or otherwise. His blade cleaved the ground, and a wave of earth and fire came blasting towards the young SeeD. Rather than moving to the side, Asher barreled right for it, dove forward – and vanished. ( Auto-dodge used, -10mp ) He appeared on the other side, with both blades burning hotly in the Berserker’s lungs.

Whether he felt it or not, the Berserker died at Asher’s hands.

( 1067, 1067 Berserker. )


Asher’s blades burned out, and the boy let out a noise that was definitely exhausted. He needed to figure out how to get himself back to full – for now, he was still having issues that needed to be taken care of. Slumping, Asher decided he had damn-sure earned a rest, and he didn’t care if he was lying next to the gradually cooling corpse of the Berserker as he did so.

( Non-Combat WC 729
Combat WC - 1244, excluding calculations, status, and turn counts. )

The little voice - the one he had become so accustomed to pushing away whenever he could, once again reached for him. Normally, Asher had no need to eat - now was no different. But he still had the desire to eat. The voice prompted, and the monkey boy's stomach growled in response. The smell of the recently-spilled blood became almost like an expensive spice, a seasoning for the flesh that was so close. He could just... take a little nibble...

He was leaning down to do just that, when he jerked his head back, remembering himself. He was not a zombie. He was not a monster... Not all the time, at least. He let out a little noise - a whimper that didn't mean defeat, but rather, victory. He still wanted to have just a small taste - but for now, he was able to ignore that pressure.

His nose twitched, though, as the Blight within him continued to linger, too close to the surface for comfort.

Go away!

It was a demand that didn't always work. He could keep a lid on the Blight for the most part... but every so often, it could slip out, and whisper everything he wanted to hear. To take control for just a split-second... which was all it needed to wreak havoc on hundreds, if not thousands of lives. But Asher... for once, was actually listening. The scent was... more than that of the man next to him. Ethereal, ephemeral...

Familiar. As the blight said... delicious.

Asher found himself standing, sniffing at the air much like a hound. Double-checking to make sure he had all of his equipment - pausing to make a quick walk around and loot the corpses - he started down that trail. His nose twitched, occasionally, as he walked quietly along, practically hovering. The smell was... all-encompassing.

He had to find the source. He didn't know what he would do with it once he had it in his hands.

But the salivating he was doing now gave him a pretty good clue as to what he wanted to do with it.

( WC - 371 )

The alluring scent wouldn't waver - the closer he got, the more enticed he was. It wasn't anything he could put a definition to - in fact, it was something that filled him with an uncertainty he wasn't used to. But the one thing he could feel, as he crept in through the mouth of the cave? The hesitation of his Blight. The desire to pull away - even the whispers to that effect. In his entire time with the Blight, he'd never once felt it pull back. It was a thing of action, not inaction, and while Asher mostly had to fight against what it wanted... he'd never had to fight against a desire to retreat.

That on its own was enough to spur the odd genome-creature forward, regardless of the thing just wanting to pull away.

His tongue lingered on his lips for a few seconds - to wet them, and to pick up the subtle tastes in the air. He was a monkey, not a snake, but when it came to certain things, he'd found his sense of taste had increased. For instance - he could practically taste blood on his tongue after that fight he'd left behind. It was designed to make him hungrier - to long for something he was so close to having already.

The cold air coming out of the rock face was not enough to stop Asher. Hell, he doubted there was a power in this world that could stop Asher from wanting to find out what had the Blight flinching. The SeeD - for all of his emptiness and uncertainty about finding himself in this new Gaia - had that certainty to focus on. This world was a world without the Blight. Perhaps it had some natural immunity to whatever it was that comprised the sickness. Perhaps Asher had found something to finally get rid of what seemed like a good idea once upon a time.

But while he let himself clutch that hope, he made sure that that hope was held away from the Blight. Steeling himself, Asher forced himself forward against the Blight's wishes, and entered the cave, heedless of the wrongness in the air.

Asher remembered that moment. It was so ingrained in his being that he doubted he’d ever lose the crystal clarity of the memory. Even now, the haze of the cave didn’t do anything to diminish the full force of it – the way his heart threatened to seize in his chest. His muscles were so tight, that pain fired through his nerves, trying to give him some sort of distraction from the memory.

He didn’t want to watch this. He didn’t want to acknowledge that decision.

He didn’t want to see why he’d done it.

Asher’s doppelganger, still holding the syringe, turned and asked him his question. "...Why...why did you do this to me?..." Spoken quietly, with all the innocence that the boy used to have. The purity he only wished he still possessed.

“I…”

His thoughts, at the time – pure and simple. It was masked by so many layers. Layers of illusion that he’d built at the time, to justify doing what he’d done. But now, years later, having struggled with the thing inside him? The reason made itself evident. The reason he’d done what he’d done was nothing so noble as a desire to protect Yuna, or August. It was nothing as pure as wanting to be able to stand alongside Zero, or Belzera.

No. His reason was much deeper. Much more painful. It was why the Blight had been able to get a hold of his soul and twist it, like a knife to the gut. His reason had deep green eyes, that stared at him now, from the picturesque world.

“I was jealous.”

His words were soft. Trembling. For the first time in a long time, since acquiring the Blight, Asher was feeling that childish fear he’d used to have. He’d been scared of the dark, when he’d first understood it. You couldn’t see out beyond your flickering campfire. This was that same fear – innocent and full of misery. More than that, though, it was primal. He’d never said these words out loud. To anyone.

“Zero… Buddy… Belzera…” He murmured, watching his own confused face stare back at him, expecting an answer. Tears were welling up in the Genome’s eyes – having nothing to do with physical injury. There were more people, of course – Sephiroth, Squall…

“They were all so much more than I was. They could do anything they needed to. I’d seen Belzera destroy an army with a wave of his hand. Zero… singlehandedly destroyed that monster with a single cut. Buddy protected everyone at the same time. I fought. I tried to fight. But I was nothing in comparison. I was jealous of the things they could do…”

His legs were feeling weak, as he continued speaking. He wanted something to lean on.

“I wanted that. I wanted to be able to show them that I was as good as they were. I wanted August to see that he didn’t need Kane any more. He had me.” Asher had never had the feeling of real jealousy before. When it finally hit him, he’d done something completely stupid, and damned himself because of it. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whimpered. “If I could take it back…”

( WC - 574. Not counting the flashback. )

It hurt. God, the words, now that they were out, lingered like the stench of death he wore whenever the Blight pulled him back from wherever it was he went when he died. Asher was sure, somehow, that he'd make it to the Farplane some day. But now..?

Well, now he was stuck here.

Shame fell across his face like a veil - he looked down, unable to meet his former self in the face. He was right, of course. But Asher didn't know that at the time. That was the problem with jealousy - it gave someone blinders that prevented them from seeing the world as the way it was. Never once had he been asked to back down, or told he wasn't worthy of staying on the front lines with them. Never once had Yuna made a comparison between him and Buddy or Zero.

Childish want. Childish.

Because that's what he had been. A child, given guns, and a target, and the training to do what needed to be done. No one had asked him if he was mature enough to do it. He hadn't even asked himself. When the test came? He failed, and now his failure was inscribed into his veins, the blackened blood that carried what fake life he still laid claim to, despite having been killed more than once. Forever.

The illusion broke, and Asher collapsed under the weight of it, his knees hitting the ground simultaneously. He clutched his stomach, eyes squeezed shut to try and stem the flow of tears. Becoming this... - choosing this, for no reason other than jealousy had made him a monster that could bring the world to its knees. That would, in time, forget what it was like to be good. As with all things, his resolve would waver in time, until the only thing left was the blackness that would use him to damn this world.

God, he could do that now - save himself a lot of heartache and pain. Just...

You should.

The little whisper snapped him back to reality. No. No, he'd fight as long and hard as he could. Try and do soemthing good with whatever time left. Quietly, he pushed himself up - he'd been down for about fifteen minutes. He didn't know why he was here - but he could only assume it was because he belonged here. The enticement hadn't faded - it just called him back, deeper into the cave. The Blight let out an annoyed noise, as Asher wiped at his face, and continued moving forward.

( WC - 439 )