multiversallogs | we can watch the world devoured in its pain

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we can watch the world devoured in its pain

Who: Balthier, Nazca, Rodolphus, Dean, Sonja, Idle, Katniss, and a boat.
What: A mission to see if there's a way out of Baedal over the ocean.
Where: ... The Ocean.
When: Dawn on ~~Tuesday~~ Misdi ("This morning" for those of you in the western hemisphere) and continuing on for several days.
Notes: This is an experimental format, so bear with me here. It's going to be a bit like a party post with some structure. Different happenings (new days, important stuff) will appear in new comments with corresponding headers - please keep related threads under each of the base comments. ... It is possible there will be a second post later but for now we're going to try and do it this way to see if it works. lmao.

● DAY 1. (Free for all comments.)
● Nightfall. (Tag the base comment.)
● Trapped. (Free for all comments.)

Warnings: Eventual violence and disturbing imagery, possible triggers; will edit as needed.

Perhaps it's fate that they leave on a Misdi - "Mist Day", the day of mists and fog, the second day of Baedal's seven-day week. It's dull but clear, the white light not quite warm but not particularly cold, either. Empty, almost, like it's waiting to make up its mind.

The boat is, fortunately, not the downtrodden thing that Balthier won in a card game, but a proper research vessel outfitted with a power source of glowing stones. It has a collection of clockwork equipment, a small kitchen, a smaller bathroom, and a few bunks, though most of the thing is dedicated to workspaces. It'll be cozy, but not inhumanly cramped - unless you like your space, in which case, it's still going to be a headache. There are two life rafts, and an anchor with a mermaid carved onto it. It is called the Winged Lamp, and her owner doesn't think they're going to get anywhere, but has been talked into lending it, For Science.

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"Imagine if they'd evolved thumbs."

Now is not the time to be flippant, Sonja, especially with that gigantic wave promising to crest over the ship's side. They need to get out of this hot zone, and fast, but a quick glance tells her Nazca is on it, which is good--Sonja is extremely competent in the water, but she'll leave the ships to the experts. (Though if they survive this--and she is determined to, because there's no way some damn eels are taking her out, that's patently absurd--she'll do some learning.)

She seems to prefer beheading the creatures, as they go. One snakes up her leg, teeth tearing into her pantleg and ripping open the denim at the lower thigh.

Sonja spears it and send it flying back into the ocean with a quick toss.

Feet are sometimes the most useless things that Ilde has ever had the misfortune of being saddled with; now feels like one of those times, but the urge to do away with them for now is tempered by the awareness that her tail would do her about as much good on the boat, even as the water crashes around them. The gun in her hands is about as useful as the feet under her when it backfires (the jostling of the boat fucks her aim, which ends up being for the better as she doesn't take the backfiring bullet in her face, but it tears open the side of her on its way into the side of the boat and now her blood is in the water), and she swears, appropriately loud for once, before she trades it for her kukri.

Heeding Sonja's earlier warning about magic, she bites the inside of her own cheek and focuses on sinking the blade into eel-flesh, eyes first, tries not to think about biting them.

Sonja transfers her attention half to Ilde when she recognizes the incident for what it is. She pries one eel off the side of the boat where it was climbing up, its hidden miniature limbs not yet descended, and slices it from head to tail. Which results in a spray of blood, but they're all going to be pretty soaked. She's used to it.

"Where are you bleeding from?"

Ilde's expression is momentarily uncomprehending - she knows Sonja is talking to her, she just can't figure out what was just said - but there's blood soaking through the side of her torn body-suit and she catches herself, realizes, says, "Here," with her free hand pressed just near the side of her ribs, blood seeping through her fingers. It'll hurt more, later, when she can think about little things like 'pain' over the immediacy of everything else right now (assuming she's alive, later, to feel and complain).

Dean is not having the best time.

The eels begin slithering in, across the deck and any other surface they can slide across, and he levels his gun at the nearest one. Takes aim, and he would have hit--he's a good enough shot, even if the things are moving targets, but the goddamn gun jams.

Back into his waistband it goes and he has just enough time to pull a knife before there's an eel wrapped around his ankle, trying to get up his leg. He tears it open lengthwise, kicking the carcass free. Then another, then another, before one manages to throw him off-balance.

He hits the deck, hard, back pinned against the mast, and the eels swarm. He goes into his coat pockets again--lighter fluid this time, desperate sloshes of it in between stabbings. One eel manages to get up his chest as he fumbles with his lighter but he can't pause, lighting up the nearest one and kicking it into the fray.

A group of them go up in flames. His shirt tears, then his skin, and he hacks and hacks until that one's dead too. He finds his feet and he starts kicking flaming bodies off the deck into the water, glancing around to see if anyone needs help--or how long he'll have to reset and maybe try this trick again.

"We have to convince them we're not worth the effort." He skewers one directly in the center of its ring of eyes, though and through, and it shudders and dies - at least they have brains in the roughly appropriate place. "Steering through this mess without them throwing us and the boat off-balance when the engine's cut is going to require a near-miracle as it is- damnit." On cue, a particularly large creature bursts past them and starts to climb up one of the mast poles, apparently after Nazca in her precarious position.

He dispatches it easily enough, but it leaves him in a necessarily vulnerable position - not nearly as vulnerable as someone crawling through the rigging, but precarious anyway. A particularly nasty wave chooses to crash into the boat at just that moment, which sends him backwards to slam into the railing. He's just regaining his balance (and the wind that was knocked out of him) when another creature grasps opportunity - and Balthier - in its jaws, leaping up onto the side of the boat and biting him squarely over his shoulder with row after row of needle-teeth.

The pirate has barely registered Oh, that actually hurts quite a bit before he's dragged over the side and into the black, roiling water.

Rodolphus darts after Balthier pretty quickly for a guy his size, but not nearly quick enough. His hand closes on the railing, then goes for his wand. No one would ever accuse him of being a humanitarian but he's pretty sure they need Balthier, and he has no special desire to see the man torn to pieces by a bunch of fucking eels.

Nothing happens.

... welp.

He inexpertly knifes an eel as he scrabbles away from the side of the boat, which just kind of makes it angry. He has spent approximately zero time ever stabbing things by hand, and it shows. But flinching and withdrawing is not only impractical, it is not in his nature (Bellatrix is not here, after all, har har). Chopping the head off the eel vaguely reminds him of potions class, and if they survive this, he hopes some specimens remain on board for further experimentation. Perhaps more importantly, he grabs the lifesaver with the attached rope and returns to the railing in hopes of seeing Balthier bob to the surface, at which point he would attempt to throw the damn thing to him. Selective optimism, it's great.

The lifesaver is a decent idea, but Sonja is fairly certain the water is too choppy, and she's worried something is dragging Balthier down into the deep. She rakes a hand through her hair, and decides there's no time to wait: the crossbow she brought out there is too unwieldy to bring underwater, so she inelegantly shoves it at Rodolphus. Whether he knows how to use it or not, she can't leave it up here to get lost. There's a grenade launcher on that thing, it's valuable.

"Draw the string up tight," she advises, just in case he does decide to use it, speaking while in the process of adjusting the sit of her gear belt and abandoning her leather jacket, "lock, sight, and if you press the trigger, do it gently, not hard. That thing goes fast and we're in close quarters. If you see anything big come at us, feel free to kill the fuck out of it."

And then she dives into the water, sword strapped to her back.

Balthier would thank Rodolphus for the thought, if he could have seen it - sure, it wasn't personal, but it was a neighborly effort. Alas, he's already several meters underwater - damn those things are strong and fast - and dealing with the particularly unpleasant combined issues of an eel still lodged teeth-first in his shoulder and needing to breathe. Priorities; the monster got his off-hand shoulder, he's still holding his katana in a death-grip (Hm, unfortunate phrasing, that) he has no plans on letting up on, and he can still move his left hand. Furthermore, his collarbone doesn't feel shattered (it's a sensation one doesn't forget). Not bad, all things considered.

Utilizing the disorienting gravity-but-not of the water around him to his advantage, Balthier twists the blade in his hand and sends it point-first behind his back and up through the body of the eel that's bitten him. Its death shudders make him think he might pass out from the pain of it, and the water near his face is warmish and salty in a way that's a bit too natural to be anything besides him bleeding quite fantastically. A jerk, and he rips the blade back out, and manages to shove the now-dead eel off of him - just in time, as the harsh, sudden current that passes by him tells him that another one of the creatures has come to investigate, but is first feasting on its fallen comrade.

Now would be a fantastic time to orient himself enough to figure out which way up is.

He is (though his lack of expression does not signal it) happy to take the crossbow, and listens to Sonja's instructions, giving her a quick nod before she dives in.

It's not easy to tell what's going on in the water, and he does end up having to fend off another eel anyway, so when he looks again... uh. Well, he has the knife in one hand and the crossbow in the other, and he'll make a valiant attempt to keep his eye on the waters for when either or both of them resurface.

Directly up, there's Sonja's hand, grasping Balthier by the back of the shirt and tugging him toward the surface. She's capable of holding her breath for much longer than most people, but it's harder to use those rites here in the dead zone, so she's relying primarily on experience. That's fine with her, or so she tells herself--nothing she can do about it right now except survive, and drag Balthier with her.

Close to the surface, another large eel approaches, attracted by the scent of blood. Sonja releases Balthier in order to deal with it, and ends up catching the creature between her knees in order to keep it from snaking up and attacking her--or escaping. She has the desire to try to kill all of them, even if any of them want to get away. The sword is overkill when a knife would do, but Sonja is always overkill and furthermore it's close on hand, so she brings it directly through the eel's eyes, suspended higher in the water by its thrashing weight.

Its blood sprays up toward the surface. In its dying throes, it does manage to gash her stomach and knock her against the underside of the boat, but she shoves away and abandons the dying eel to find Balthier again.

At least she grabs him by the shirt and nothing else, so he doesn't mistake her for something less friendly. He's still in that dazzled space between extreme pain and oxygen deprivation when she releases him, but the force of the struggle next to him snaps him out of it properly. He gasps in air when he breaks the water's surface, feeling lightheaded from a great unpleasant combination of factors - he can hold his breath for ages, when he's not being chewed on. No such luck at present.

But then he doesn't see his rescuer, and so he takes a proper breath this time and sinks back into the water. Can't be helped. At least his eyes have adjusted to being able to make out shadowy figures in the barely-helpful moonlight - hopefully Sonja is just looking for him, and not being eaten. He sees her and reaches out with his functioning arm (blade held curved backwards, of course), because there's no use in them getting tossed further apart in the chaotic water.

By now, she's decided to just stab out at any eels that approach--her particular sight is part of her physiological make-up, so she hasn't lost it in the dead zone they appear to be caught in. She grasps Balthier's hand when she sees him approach, and kicks up toward the surface--since he's come to, she suspects he'll come along readily, but she's been underwater for less time and has all her strength about her.

Just before they break surface, an eel sinks its many-layered teeth into her arm, maybe in a cunning attempt to make her lose her sword in the shock of the attack. She makes a noise that's more like a feminine snarl than a scream, and instead of jerking away, presses her arm further into its mouth, forcing it to taste her blood. After a split second, the eel flings itself away, and begins thrashing about wildly in the water, repeatedly slamming itself into the underside of the boat.

Another part of her physiological make-up: poisonous blood.

When they make the surface, she's bleeding, but grimly satisfied, and still has her sword. Air, even the strange foggy air that surrounds them, is a welcome relief.

Balthier is a very skilled fighter; one of the most dangerous men in Ivalice, without a doubt. But he is still smarter than he is strong, relying on speed and tactics in combat - while it's admirable that he's awake and alert enough to connect with Sonja, the pale cast of his skin and the way his voice sounds thin and distant when he speaks suggests he really aught to get out of the water and get the bleeding stopped right now. He's really only got so many pints in there, and it's delicious, not toxic.

"You remind me of my partner," he remarks, tone casual, even on the bring of unconsciousness. "I think this means I owe you a drink."

While they were under, Rodolphus had pulled the lifesaver in a little, as the eels had tried a few bites and he didn't want the rope to be severed. Once they're visible, however, he slings it their way. It would have been easier and more accurate if he could have used his wand (no, he's never going to stop thinking that in a super grumpy way) but it lands fairly close. Physical exertion is not his strong point, sadly, despite being a fairly big guy, and a little help to haul two sopping wet adults in would probably not be amiss.

"Anyone with a hand free—!" He calls sharply, but he can't actually check, himself. There's another eel approaching and he has to brace himself against the rails so he can use one hand to aim and fire the crossbow.

In the midst of slamming her bootheel down onto an eel-head (the sound it makes is disgusting, but oddly satisfying), Ilde catches sight of Rodolphus and what he's doing rather than hearing - tragically unable to appreciate the break in his silence - and she moves swiftly towards him, bleeding from the side and currently ignoring it. She won't be the most assistance, small as she is, but it's a start.

"I think after this we'll need a drink." Sonja's less bitten up, or at least less severely, and a quick prioritizing tells her that she should give Balthier the life preserver and take another rope for herself. She raps the side of the boat with her knuckles.

"You pull him up first," she calls, "just toss a secure rope down and I can climb up myself."

She feels the rush of something swimming nearby--it grazes, but doesn't bite down. Playing head games, she's sure. Testing her. As soon as Balthier's up, she's going to have to kill it.

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we can watch the world devoured in its pain

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