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Thaliak's Sisyphus [Journal/Story - OOC Welcome]


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Thaliak's Sisyphus [Journal/Story - OOC Welcome]
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Gegenjiv
Gegenji
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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#16
05-15-2015, 02:51 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-15-2015, 03:40 PM by Gegenji.)
Show Content
Preface
One more post after this one before things... truly begin. As always, I feel a bit iffy with bits of this, but I'm not sure how much of it is my own worry about my own skill and how much is actually... I dunno, just written poorly?

Also, apologies to Howl if I misrepresented Annunu in any way during this little bit. I always get nervous when trying to write for other people - hence why I try to keep what they say or do brief... or have an actual interaction between them for reference.

I might actually have this arc done by Heavensward! Let's... hope it turns out at least decently well.

This section's music is:
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4cMlJsJmVQo[/youtube]

The cafe above Rowena's House of Splendors was a relatively new addition to the ever-expanding mass that was Revenant's Toll. Yet, it had garnered plenty of attention in its short existence - though whether this was a concerted effort by Rowena herself or just a happenstance was anyone's guess - and already touted a not insignificant number of patrons who came either for the food or the exquisite view of the fledgling town and the crystalline structures beyond its walls. The din of the customers, mixed with the ever-present background noise of the continued construction on the Toll, allowed much conversation to easily go unnoticed even from one's neighboring table.

Even so, Gogonji was never one to be content with such mundane and questionable precautions. He had ensured that his table was separated from the rest, tucked away in a corner away from the prying eyes and burning ears that had no place intruding on his dealings. A place meant purely for private conversation, to discuss matters of personal import that were not intended to be put on display in front of the unwashed masses. And, considering the dark expression painted clearly on the Doman's features as he eyed his Commanders, he considered these matters quite important indeed.

"We are short on time, so I will be equally brief," the Dunesfolk stated flatly, laying his map out flat on the table and revealing the litany of shorthand and marks that decorated its worn surface. Numbers and calculations and notes all vying for position over topography symbols and place names, making the whole thing an almost indecipherable mess of pen-strokes. Amongst all the conflicting scribblings, however, were four symbols placed on four specific points on the map that stood out in solid relief amongst the rest of the chaos.

On the edge of Gyr Albania - the Eorzean symbol for flame.

Deep within the Twelveswood - the symbol for earth.

Near the Garlean seaboard - water.

And the final location, the Castrum nestled just west of the Toll itself, was marked with the symbol of wind.

"How long until your cells are amassed and ready to move?" Gogonji demanded in a low yet insistent tone, his violet gaze turning to the Highlander first. "Erwin?"

"Gatherin' at Lil' Ala Mihgo as we speak, like ya wanted," Erwin responded with a broad grin, leaning forward over the table with his lone arm to get a better look at the map. His inability to decipher any of it was briefly displayed on his battle-ravaged features, his limited grasp of the written word being sorely tested in handling such a mess of shorthand from such a suboptimal angle. He ultimately decided to deal with it by simply ignoring it entirely and turning his full attentions back on the leader of Khamja. "If we wait fer all th' stragglers? A week, tops."

Gogonji frowned as the Highlander settled back more comfortably into his seat. With no clue how close the Garlean spies were on his heels, the Lalafell was of mind to set things in motion as quickly as possible to prevent any chance of interception or interference. And yet rushing things overly much would only serve to further hinder the plans, so - as much as he would like all his people moving in a sun's time - he was left with little choice but to settle for a slightly more lenient time frame.

"Three suns."

Though not much more lenient.

"Three suns!?" Aerygoeya repeated in alarm, looking up from idly checking his flintlock.

"You will wait three suns time, then on the fourth you will gear up your men and move out by sundown at the absolute latest," Gogonji clarified in the bluntest of tones, drawing a line from Little Ala Mihgo to the fire symbol with one Lalafellan finger and tapping on it twice. "Those who cannot be there in that stretch of time are not worth waiting for." His violet eyes snapped to the Roegadyn. "Is there a problem?"

"What?" the Sea Wolf was immediately taken aback, as expected, nearly tipping his creaking chair over backward in the process. "No! 'Course not. Could do it in two. In my sleep!"

"I will hold you to that, then," the Lalafell responded curtly, garnering a nervous swallow from the ship's captain as he tapped impatiently on the water symbol. "Gather what crew and ships you can here, and on the fourth day you will set sail and assault both ship and stronghold along the coast. Flying the colors I have given you. Understood?"

"Y-yeah. S'fine. Clear as crystal."

His gaze flitted to the last of the three Commanders sitting at the table, his finger sliding across the map to rest atop the symbol of earth. "And you, Pa'Nito? Will you and yours be able to strike here in four sun's time?"

The Miqo'te peered across the table at the map and the position the Lalafell had marked, before responding with a sigh and a grandiose shrug of his shoulders.

"I don't like it, but I can manage it," he stated succinctly. "At least a decent number will already be wearing the proper colors, so that won't be a problem. And the information gathered by your..." His feline eyes glanced to the form of Annunu, who stood vigilantly at Gogonji's flank. "... little Nymeian Lily over there should make dealing with that particular location simple enough."

"Her name..." Gogonji snapped, causing the Seeker's tail to puff up in alarm at the sudden harshness. "Is Annunu. And she is as much a Commander as the rest of you. And, as such, will receive the same level of respect. Is that clear?"

"Aw, don't be shy now, Oan," Erwin guffawed, grinning over his tankard that he had somehow obtained in the interim. "Ain't nothing wrong if'n ya fancy--" The look Gogonji shot him to shut down that line of thinking could've melted Darksteel. Suddenly his tankard of ale was quite a bit more interesting a focus for his attentions. "Aha... ha... hum."

"She will assault the final position, here," the eldest Gegenji child continued, pressing a finger firmly into the wind symbol. "Also by end of the fourth sun," he emphasized as he looked over his shoulder towards the female Lalafell in question, who gave a stoic nod. If any of the jabs from Pa'Nito and Erwin had bothered her, her doll-like expression gave no hintings of it. As unreadable as ever. "Any questions?"

"I... I have one," Aerygoeya offered, almost timidly in tone before his ego quickly hardened it. "I mean, I'm sure I can guess why easily 'nuff, but I wanna make sure the others know and--"

"Out with it."

"What's with th' dressin' up?" the Sea Wolf queried. "Flyin' the Maelstrom's colors, wearin' their uniforms. Seems unnecessary t'me. I mean, I'll do it no problem but..."

"Oh, but it is absolutely necessary," Gogonji corrected. "For it won't seem as if it was just a series of coincidental raids, but instead a coordinated assault to recover lost or tactically vital territory by the Eorzean Alliance and the Crystal Braves."

"And passing the blame onto them as well," Pa'Nito conjectured, looking a mite worried. He was obviously in it for personal glory, to taste what had been stolen from him twice before. The magitek incident had whet his appetite somewhat, and he didn't seem too keen on losing that gained ground so shortly after obtaining it. His fears needed assuaging.

"Yes, but also the glory," the green-haired Lalafell stated as he started rolling up the map once more, its role in the meeting completed. "The Order of the Twin Adder ousting the Garleans out of the Twelveswood. The Immortal Flames finally pushing in to reclaim Ala Mihgo. The Maelstrom further putting a stranglehold on Garlean shipping. It will empower the common folk, show that the Eorzean Alliance truly can push Garlemald out of their lands once and for all. Do it well enough, and you might even inspire the Grand Companies to bring the fight straight to the Garlean homeland itself in retaliation for all the wrongs they have committed."

"'n really show'em what happens when they push Eorzeans too far," Erwin finished for him, slamming his tankard down onto the table. "Gyahaha. I like it."

"And what riches and glory will be piled on those who led the charge? To whom opened the doors to an Eorzea truly freed from Garlemald's grasp?" Gogonji continued, turning back towards Pa'Nito and Aerygoeya to further drive the point home. The concern in the Seeker's eyes had faded, the Lalafell noted quickly, likely replaced with eager dreams of adoration and many a Miqo'te female seeking his attentions - of a respect he obviously felt long overdue. "All it requires that first, crucial step. A step that should have been made already, but has been hindered by politics and squabbling."

"And we..." He punctuated his point by slapping the rolled up map into an upturned palm. "Khamja will be the ones that push them into making it. Whether they like it or not."

~*~

"I still do not trust them," Annunu finally spoke after the other Commanders had departed. She had spoken of her concerns before, when she had returned with the information on Aerygoeya's main targets. She had been weary and sullen then, and had since been ordered to rest in preparation for the upcoming operation. And yet this issue continued to gnaw at her, much to Gogonji's annoyance. He had hoped his words and a night's rest would have have also put such concerns to rest as well.

"As I said before, they are but tools," the green-haired Dunesfolk intoned. He considered her a tool as well, of course - he had told her as such and she seemed content enough with it. She was a tool that knew and understood that she was a tool, and made sure to make herself useful to keep from being discarded. Which was perhaps why he felt just that little more comfortable speaking with her. "Screws to be put to Garlemald to bring forth the results I desire."

She gave a simple nod, though how satisfied she was by the answer was hard to tell. Just as when she had first appeared before him at the Bobbing Cork, Annunu remained a difficult individual to read - a trait that continued to vex Gogonji. The one time she had showed anything resembling honest concern and emotion was when speaking of his own well-being, but he would be a fool not to think it possibly a way in which to endear herself to him. And yet, his "eyes" had confirmed her stealthy assaults on the Castrums beyond the first, his contacts had revealed the truth in her estrangement with Chuta and the death of her father. If this was a Garlean bluff, then the rabbit hole of her deception was quite deep indeed.

And yet, some small part of him genuinely wanted to believe that it wasn't a bluff; that there was another whose situation somewhat mirrored his own. She had said that, like him, all she had left to live for was the goal Khamja was striving for. That she would serve and protect him, aid him in achieving this vengeance on the nation that so brazenly took his family and home from him. And he wanted to believe it.

"After all," he continued, "remember that I spoke only of the 'positives.' I spoke naught of the conflict that will arise from sinking Eorzea and Garlemald back into bitter war. Of the true likelihood of a ramshackle 'organization' like the Eorzean Alliance to actually withstand a concerted Garlean effort, should one be fully brought to bear."

What the Alliance had managed before, when the Warrior of Light and his hodgepodge band had overcome Gaius, had been little more than dealing with a mere fraction of Garlemald's power. A single hound that had escaped its leash. There were many more hounds that awaited in their pen, ready to pounce should they too be loosed from their cages. How many that might be roused by this act, however, was the real question. And yet, at the same time, it was a question whose answer mattered little - as long as attention was drawn.

For, after all, what better way to bypass the hounds than to bait them with fresh meat?

"Not only that, but where I would be in all this was also kept from them." A lie, at least somewhat. Despite his hotheadedness and brash behavior, Gogonji felt it prudent to at least let Erwin in on his hand in things. Which was perhaps why he had been so quick to back Pa'Nito's claims about the nature of his relationship with Annunu. At least the Highlander still had enough wherewithal to drown out any potential chance at leaking information with alcohol.

His Eyes, too, were at least vaguely aware that he would be going to the same Castrum as Annunu. The one overseeing it would be joining them personally, in fact, while the rest tailed the other Commanders to ensure they did as they were ordered. A shadowy second set of Doman sub-Commanders ready to make up for any faults, and violently so if needed. For it would be foolish to put overmuch trust in any one of them given the scope of his plans.

... As much as that niggling little bit of him told him it would be nice to believe in them. If even for just a little bit. A tiny mote in his mind that spoke in a voice that seemed almost familiar.

Chachanji Gegenji | Gogonji Gegenji | Judge Jredthys
~Cactuar~
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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#17
05-21-2015, 03:35 PM
Show Content
Preface
Here it is. The moment that came into my mind months ago, back when I started thinking about Gogonji and Chachanji's relationship. It was the original idea of this scene that spurred the entire story into existence, from what led up to it and what will follow. It's not the same, of course, having adapted and shifted due to the flow of the story and the interactions between Gogon, Chachan, and those who were generous enough to have them as a part of their characters' lives. In fact, I still have the snippets of original idea from a little back and forth I had with Roen early in my time at the RPC, and I might even include them in a separate little post after this just to show how things shifted and changed over time.

As always, I have some issues with this bit. It's a big moment - the final meeting between Chachan and Gogon. And I spent days trying to figure out how it would happen, what would be said, how it would flow. This is... what I managed, at least, and it still seems... off somehow. Maybe because I'm trying to get into the heads of both characters simultaneously.

Or maybe a part of me is screaming how bad and cliche it all is. Or maybe I'm just being a worry-wort as usual. Regardless, I hope it's at least enough to get the situation across... and be at least a mildly enjoyable read.

To start things off, the music as usual. Since this scene - or the barest skeleton of it - has been sitting in my head for a while now, a few songs have come and gone for what would best fit the scene. Even now, I'm not sure if this one works completely but... it'll do for now. I'll probably hear something better later and swap it out...

We'll see, I suppose.
[youtube]-fKp9exxdDI[/youtube]

Fate is an odd thing.

Perched over her loom, the Spinner weaves many different threads together in ways that may oftentimes seem strange or even haphazard at the time. People, places, and things coming together in ways one couldn't possibly understand or predict, and these meetings make sense only once Nymeia has finished spinning that particular tapestry. And yet, even without Nymeia's lengthy sight, there are sometimes threads that one can't help but expect to entwine once again down the line. This was one such meeting.

Like many other such meetings, it was an event that seemed to happen purely by chance. Gogonji just so happened to be heading to check on his eyes at the Castrum Centri - the impending start of his grand operation making him nervous, restless, and eager to ensure that every little detail was in place. And so, he had retrieved Annelace from the Chocobokeep's stables, and was in the middle of leading her to the Toll's western gate. Towards the Fogfens and the Garlean encampment that sat like an overripe boil on the other end of it. He would have just ridden her through the throngs of unwashed masses, but the last thing he wanted to do was draw unnecessary attention to himself so close to operation start.

So ironic, then, that his slower going would result in catching the strangest of attentions. Someone who just so happened to be wrapping up a sort of mini vacation, far away from his Free Company after the sudden end of a relationship. Someone who only just finished the project set upon him by his father in part for his sudden exodus from their original home, and in part for his lodging in their new home at the Toll. Had he taken but a minute or two longer or finished ahead of schedule, and Chachanji might not have seen the white-feathered chocobo and, by extension, its owner as he stepped out of the Garlond Ironworks.

And yet, in retrospect, it seemed like it couldn't happen any other way.

"... G-Go-nii?" The childish nickname stumbled out of the young Free Paladin's mouth without thinking, evoked by the sudden appearance of his older brother right in front of him. He had expected to hear about his whereabouts from Leanne's various contacts, expected to have time to ready himself and prepare for finally meeting his brother after so many cycles. Nymeia wasn't quite so kind.

If Gogonji heard the sudden gasp, he paid it little heed - simply dismissing it as another figment of his imagination, another attempt of that niggling little feeling in the back of his mind to dissuade him from his revenge. Instead, he continued maneuvering through the crowds with Annelace's reins wrapped tightly about his right hand and his thoughts firmly on the task at hand. Troop numbers, equipment, patrol routes, strengths, weaknesses - all the information that had been gathered either by him or for him being mulled over as he moved with an unwavering single-mindedness towards the western gate. This left Chachanji at a strange crossroads.

Should he go back into the Ironworks and tell his father? The man had been gruff enough at the return of his youngest to his doorstep those scant suns ago, immediately setting the boy to task making the plates and other components for the vastly popular Magitek-inspired Garlond armor and weapons. Even if he got to the family head in time to bring him to his brother, what would come of it? Perhaps another argument, like the one that had caused Gogonji's original departure. Chachanji couldn't risk this good fortune by having their father drive the elder brother away again. He stepped down one of the steps.

What about Nininya or his mother, then? They would certainly react better to seeing the eldest Gegenji child after so long apart, and could serve as a buffer for their father once he returned home. And yet, that also meant making a mad dash back to the house to look for them. Gogonji could be long gone before then, leaving Chachanji just as empty-handed as before. He took another two steps.

Calling for a friend over a linkpearl? Getting Avenger from the Chocobokeep? Similar problems - they would take time Chachanji wasn't entirely sure he had to spare. And, while he didn't feel at all ready to deal with this sudden meeting alone, he also knew that he had little choice if he wanted to have the meeting at all. He either approached Gogonji now or risk losing him again. He was in the crowd now, pushing towards the western gate.

What would he say? What would he do? How would his older brother react? Leanne had said that Gogonji thought him and the rest of his family dead, after all. A myriad of questions all ran through his panicked mind as the little Lalafell forced his way through the crowd.

And yet, despite the endless questions - the doubts and the fears that dominated his thoughts - there was one thought that rung crystal clear in Chachanji's mind. That he had to get his brother's attention. He had to say something, anything. And so, as he slipped the tumultuous grasp of the Toll's citizenship and stumbled out the western gate, little Chachan shouted the only thing he could think of.

"GO-NII! WAIT!"

And that was enough. The older Gegenji froze in the middle of mounting his snowy-feathered bird, his foot slipping free of the saddle's rung. A nervous laugh bubbled out of Chachanji's throat as he padded is way past the guardhouse and down the slope a ways towards his older brother. Despite his arms still hurting from the hundreds of hammer-falls he had performed under the watchful gaze of his father, the little Doman waved in greeting. And wondered what to say next.

Gogonji remained still, his violet gaze affixed upon the saddle cinched firmly onto Annelace's back. His grip on one of the saddlebags he was using as leverage tightened, his already pale knuckles coloring to match his Chocobo's feathers. The words that he muttered came out at little more than a whisper.

"How dare you..."

"A-ah?" Chachan murmured as he drew up alongside brother and bird. "D-did ya say somethin', G-G..." It felt weird speaking to him for the first time in cycles. "Go-nii."

It was only Warren's intense training - and his numerous appearances at the Grindstone as part of said training - that caused Chachanji to reflexively jerk back at the faint clicking sound, dodging the bite of the blade that suddenly slashed out at him shortly after. He staggered, in surprise of his own reaction as well as the sudden assault upon him, and fell rather unceremoniously on his backside. When his eyes opened from the initial shock of impact, the youngest Gegenji child found the point of the blade set neatly at his throat. And at the other end was the eldest, a murderous glare burning through the spectacles affixed to his face.

"How dare you!" Gogonji repeated, his tone steeped in venom as he took a step forward. Chachan was forced to scrabble back a few ilms to avoid getting his neck punctured. "Not enough to act like you know my brother, is it!? You have the gall to try pretending to be him!?"

"P-pretendin'? What do ya--"

"Silence!" Chachanji was forced to abandon his questioning as he dove to the side, lest his head be removed from his shoulders. The blade came to rest at Gogonji's side, tip lightly grazing the dirt road at their feet. With his free hand, the elder brother pointed accusingly at the younger; his head tilted at a disturbing angle. "Filthy Garlean, how low are you willing to stoop?"

"I-I'm not a Garlean!" Chachan pleaded, Leanne's words flitting briefly through his mind once more. "I-it's me! Chacha--"

"Enough of the lies!" Gogonji lunged forward again, thrusting at the other Lalafell's chest. Again, it was the training that put Chachan's always-handy smithing hammer in the way to deflect the blade aside. The hefty tool, as large as his torso, had been made in the image of the one their father used, and grabbed the older Gegenji child's attention. Even his out-of-practice smith's eye could recognize the style of the hammer, as well as identify the obvious difference in craftsmanship, and that just incensed him further.

"You can't stop me! You won't stop me!" the older Doman Lalafell screeched in rage, slashing viciously with each statement. "You will not stop me!"

"I'm not stoppin' nothin'!" Chachanji wailed in response, the wild attacks keeping him solely on the defensive. Ducking and weaving and blocking with his hammer in a desperate attempt to keep that surprisingly skilled blade from catching him in someplace vital. "I don't even know what yer doin'!"

"You'd like me to believe that, wouldn't you!?"

Something was wrong, something that nagged at Gogonji's thoughts like an irritating bug bite.

"You'd like me to believe that my brother survived!"

Ever since he laid eyes on this... this doppelganger... it had been bothering him. Perhaps even before then, back when that Miqo'te confronted him at the Bobbing Cork. It was hard to say.

"That he just happened to be here in Mor Dhona with the rest of the refugees this whole time!"

What he could say was that there were too many inconsistencies. If the Garlean spies knew about the earring and the hammer and how he taught little Chachanji a little bit of Arcanima, then how were they still so far off on so many other things? Why give him a stupid hodgepodge Eorzean accent when he could speak the language clearly enough thanks to the Garlean occupation? Why have him carry about a shoddy knockoff of their father's hammer when it would only raise further questions?

"Just so happened to be there as I left the town!"

And the hair. Chachanji's hair was certainly fluffy and messy like on this fake, they'd gotten that much right. However, it had always been straight green like his own - not this... oddball green-and-white number that vaguely reminded him of a tree in winter. Did they half-ass the dye job due to time constraints?

"And just happened to recognize me after over fifteen cycles apart!"

They had gotten the proper eye color, the freckles, and even the face was disturbingly close to matching Gogonji's own - if he were to shave off his facial hair. So why all the bizarre and obvious differences after having so many other aspects spot on? Was it just a matter of Garlean arrogance and pride, trying to be fancy with these... these "liberties" in how an older Chachanji might look like? But such things wouldn't make any good tactical sense!

Unless...

"... Of course I recognized ya," Chachanji murmured as he let his hammer fall to his side, his free hand rising to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck. "Yer me brother, Go-nii..."

Unless it's...

The blade slipped from Gogonji's grasp and clattered noisily against the ground as he stumbled back, as if he had been struck, his violet gaze affixed on the other pair of orbs that so nearly matched his own. Eyes that still held that childish adoration he remembered far too well, mixed with confusion and sadness. That horrible kicked puppy look that brought to mind the time when his little brother had dropped that axe on his head, and Gogonji first made use of his Arcanima. Only this time directed fully at him.

Unless it's really him...

No.
"No."

He couldn't be alive, Gogonji told himself as a familiar tension seemed to build in the back of his skull. After all, if he was, then what was the point of everything he had done up to this point? From the Garleans he slaughtered against the backdrop of a razed Doma, to the formation of Khamja to amass a force to strike at Garlemald, to even the twisting of his research to more violent ends. It had all been done under the belief, the fact that the Garleans had taken his family from him. It was because of that truth that he had lied and cheated and killed as he had, all in the name of divine retribution for that single, inexcusable act. It was to be an eye for an eye, blood for blood; they had taken away his everything, so he would take away theirs.

He's dead.
"He's dead."

Even now, his Commanders were mobilizing their respective Khamjan soldiers, readying them to march under the guise of the Eorzean Alliance. Their simultaneous attacks would incite the warmongering Garleans to retaliate and engulf the continent in bloody war once again. An affair Gogonji knew would cause heavy losses on both sides - even amongst his own men, who were to continue to fight and fan the flames - but that had all been easily dismissed as being necessary steps in Garlemald's comeuppance. For Khamja, the Eorzean Alliance, and even his Commanders were naught but tools to bring about that needed vengeance he had so deeply longed for. So much time and energy and money had been spent bringing things to this, the great tipping point.

They're all dead.
"They're all dead."

So much had been done, so much was about to be done, that even considering that it could all be built off false pretenses was ludicrous. It was an impossibility, it had to be. Because without such obvious justification, without the burning light of justice as his back, then would he be naught but a bloodthirsty madman? A murderer who was about to condemn hundreds upon thousands of people to their deaths for slights that did not exist? One who was so far gone as to lash out at the very person he had suffered all this for!?

"By Garlean hands."

The other Lalafell was approaching him again, the one that claimed to be Gogonji's dead brother. The brother whom he had told stories of heroism just before turning off the lights, who he had heard speak of wanting to help and save people as he swung a branch like a sword in their backyard. Such a dim-witted, caring individual wouldn't be able to understand what his older brother had done for him, what was going to happen in his name. So, even if Gogonji was foolish enough to believe that he was really who he said he was, everything the older Lalafell had set into motion would ensure that Chachanji would still be lost him regardless. For who would want an older brother so willing to send thousands to their deaths, let alone someone as tenderhearted as his little brother?

The tension in the back of his mind snapped, and it all came to him in strange, simple clarity. It was so obvious: it truly was nothing more than a failed Garlean trick. The discrepancies in the disguise were merely failings on the part of Garlemald, errors in their disguises that his keen mind had caught so very easily despite his willingness to believe his brother's survival. He certainly wouldn't have drawn steel and attacked his brother - the one he had done everything for - and ensured that he could never again return to his family. He would've been able to tell the difference.

Besides, they were gone. Returned to the aether. And he would join them soon enough, steeped heavily in the blood of all those that had allowed their deaths to happen. He would rejoin them then.

And then they would be together.

"By your hands!"

A practiced motion - just two clicks - and the knowledge flooded forth from the Rousers. Arcanima and Black Magic, jostling with ancient Paladin knowledge and memories already in his mind to the point that he felt his skull might crack from the pressure. He wouldn't need it all for very long, though. Just long enough to show those foolish Garleans that he would not be so easily tricked. He would make an example of this spy, this fool who dared approach him under the guise of his lost brother, to any others who happened to be watching from afar.

The second casting of the "Big Damn Fireball" - Gogonji had never bothered to name it, content to just remain aware of its potency - was just as violent as the first, deep within the Ampadoran ruins. Part of the slope melted away like the the morning mists as the brilliant orange and indigo blast engulfed it, its hues reflected in Gogonji's lenses. And just as suddenly as it appeared, it was gone; leaving only the hissing smoke and missing cliff side to mark its passing. Gogonji's hands remained thrust out in front of him for a few seconds before weakly dropping to his sides. That same drained feeling as before, mixed with that heady combination of elation and power.

And mingled in with all that was a small sense of pride. Pride that he had so handily rebuked the Garleans and their tricks at every turn. Pride that he had, at least in some small way, avenged his brother by removing the fool who tried so hard to pose as him. And pride that, in a matter of suns, he would fully avenge Chachanji along with the rest of his family. He just had to make sure it all went according to plan. For them.

Still woozy after that headache-inducing rush of power and knowledge, Gogonji stumbled to where Annelace had retreated to during the sudden combat. A few weary, soft words beckoned the white-feathered Chocobo out from her hiding spot. A few shaky, careful motions had the eldest Gegenji child up and into her saddle, and a few more had them both in motion. Off to Castrum Centri, as originally planned.

All that was left to mark his passing was the bite taken out from the cliff side - still smoking slightly from the sudden landscaping - and a scroll. A scroll that had come loose in all the thrashing and slashing and the backlash of the fireball. An errand wind seemed eager to help clear up that remnant, however, sending the rolled up parchment skittering towards the cliff edge. It teetered there, seeming hesitant to make the drop, before a second gust sent it careening downwards.

The scroll clattered and bounced and spun in its descent, smacking against stone and knocking loose the bits of gravel and dirt unlucky enough to be in its path. It landed with a surprisingly solid thunk on a patch of green, shortly followed by a rain of debris. Said patch groaned and shifted, the battered head that it was attached to turning up just enough to see the speck of white fading into the miasma of the Fogfens. An arm, cut and bruised from the sudden fall, nonetheless tried to reach out towards the retreating form of Gogonji and Annelace.

"G-Go-nii..."

And then darkness came.

Chachanji Gegenji | Gogonji Gegenji | Judge Jredthys
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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#18
05-22-2015, 08:41 AM
(This post was last modified: 05-22-2015, 09:51 AM by Gegenji.)
THIS POST IS ALL OOC STUFF!

The following is what I had as a sort of "rough draft" back when I first started on this story path for Gogon. A lot of things changed, as you'll see. Gogon was more... openly arrogant, more melodramatic and dismissive. And a lot less paranoid and off-kilter than he ended up. He recognizes his brother and doesn't seem to care at all about him, which really didn't fit with the development of their relationship in their youth. It definitely hits the "corrupted WoL" angle I was originally going for a bit better, though, I think. Even considering the cheesy villanous line I included.

There are some other minor differences as well. Gogon had his Fairy out - which still had the "default" name of Lily instead of Ezra. Chachan still had his mispronunciation and slang thing going strong here, though. Even if he didn't have the cutesy nickname for his older brother.

Show Content
Original Draft
Quote:"I... returned home recently," Gogo admitted quietly. "To Doma."

Chachanji blinked, the violet eyes he shared with his brother clouded with confusion. Perhaps sensing his younger brother's silent prodding for clarification, Gogonji turned to face Chacha more fully. His own eyes, glimmering like amethysts, were alight with an inner fire. The intensity of his elder brother's stare set the boy back a step.

"I finally thought I had the proof I needed to convince Father," Gogonji explained. "I had studied and practiced and guided many a battle through tactics and wit. I had descended on the remnant knowledge of Nym and scoured what I could from its cobwebbed stores. I caught the first ship back home that I could, treatises and theories clutched to my chest with ink still wet."

The older of the two paused for a beat, before continuing in a lower tone.

"I saw it happen. I saw the city engulfed in all-consuming flame." Gogonji's eyes dropped to his hands, held open in front of him. Those small hands balled tightly into fists. The next words were spat, as if coated in venom. "And I could do nothing."

"So go see Papa 'n Mama 'n Nin!" Chachanji pressed, gesticulating and pointing back towards the city in the distance. "They're here! Safe! In Mor Dhona!"

"It's not ABOUT that anymore.." Again Gogonji trailed off, though this time he raised a hand to his head, his fingers brushing lightly against his temple. His burning eyes grew hazy, as if lost in a thick fog. Chachanji reached out to his brother, to catch him should he fall. Yet, just as quickly as the weakness seemed to come, it left again. "... I see. You should understand, then. It's not about HAVING this knowledge anymore, it's about USING it."

"What...?" His brother's words continued to press Chachanji deeper into a vast pool of confusion. He spoke with an unwavering confidence that the younger brother failed to understand. He had not spoke of his desire to use the arms and armor rather than sell them until long after Gogonji's departure. Maybe he had learned of Chacha's exploits through some manner or another?

"So I head to the Castrum Centri, to finally put my plans into action."

Then it clicked.

"Yer gonna attack th' Garleans."

"No." Gogonji's words were as cold as the Coerthas winds. "I mean to annihilate them."

"But... but...!" The words flowed out of Chacha's mouth in a jumbled panic. "Yer just one lala! 'N... 'n... what if th' Garleans think it's the Alliance attackin'!?"

"They'll see it as an excuse to counterattack, an excuse they need... an excuse they want." The words that followed caused a shiver to run down Chachanji's spine. "And in that fog of war will my opportunity arise." He drew his tome from his side and flipped it open with a practiced ease, tapping at the formulae within for emphasis. "I have foreseen it."

"But... but...!" Chacha was like a skipping record, though his voiced complaints were of a different sort this turn on the vinyl. "How can ya be sure? Are ya really willin' ta throw th' Alliance under th' chocobo cart fer yer plans!?"

"My calculations do not lie."

"But ya could cause th' death of hundreds! Thousands!" Chacha exclaimed. "On both sides!"

"Acceptable losses."

"Acceptab--" Chachanji started repeating before the weight of the words hit him like a falling goobbue. "Ya... ya can't mean that."

"I can." Gogonji looked up from his tome, his glare steely and unwavering. "And do."

"Well... well... well..." Chachanji looked about panickedly, trying to think of something - anything - he could do. "What if I go tell sumbuddy? I could be back in town right quick!"

"With the immobile mass that is the Alliance? By the time they stop arguing semantics with each other, it would already be too late. And the Garleans would not pass up a chance to expand their empire, and they are too blind to imagine they could be defeated by a lone lalafell from a destroyed city." Gogonji snapped his book shut with an air of finality. "You, my dear brother, are a non-factor."

Gogonji turned then, starting to walk away. Towards Castrum Centri. To descend Eorzea into war once again in order to exact his twisted plan of revenge. Chachanji had to do something, so he leapt on the first thing that came to mind, as usual.

"Oh... oh yeah?" he countered weakly, slipping his blade from its scabbard with a sharp hiss. "Well what if this 'nuhn-facter' strikes you down here!?"

And with that challenge, Chachanji rushed his brother.

...

"Hmph, I see you've gained some skill with a blade. Too bad it means nothing."

Gogonji whirled suddenly, bashing aside Chachanji's sword with his book, and bringing his own tempered blade to point at his younger brother's throat. Among the numerous strange, silvery bands strapped up his arms, the soul crystals in to of them flared to brilliant light - the Paladin and the Scholar. Using two soul crystals at once? Was such a thing possible!?

"You don't GET it, Chacha!" Gogonji snapped, with more feeling than Chachanji ever heard - even counting the overheard fight with their father. "You build yourself on hopes and dreams! They are intangible, unmeasureable, USELESS. It's knowledge that brings power. Through these crystals I gain knowledge, through manipulation of the Echo do I learn still more! It is with this knowledge that I will confront the Garleans for the razing of Doma. And it is with this knowledge that I will throw them all DOWN."

"... Gogo... what's happened to you...?"

"I heard, I felt, I thought." He stated simply. His piece said, he glanced briefly to his Fairy. "Come, Lily, we're leaving."

With those enigmatic words, the older Gegenji brother turned sharply on his heel and walked away. The Fairy spared the younger brother a worried glance before flitting after her master, leaving the younger to stand aghast in the middle of Fogfens. Alone, Chachanji slumped to his knees.

I'll say that there's parts of it I like... better than what I ended up with? But I had a hard time rationalizing them with the changes that had come over Gogon over the course of his story. Maybe I'll be able to adapt some of it back in later... but we'll have to see about that.

Other than that, though, the next part of this is the event. With map in hand, Chachan is going to reach out to his friends, to aid in stopping this operation before it starts. I'm going to be working with a sort of "flex time" here. In the story, it's within the next day or two, but the actual date of the event will be a bit further away than than in real time. Once I have the thread up, though, I will link to it here - and vice versa.

And then we will see what becomes of Gogonji's plan.

EDIT: And the event thread is up!

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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#19
06-03-2015, 02:50 PM
Show Content
Preface
What? More!?

Yeah. While the lead-up to and the event itself is over, there's still bits and pieces of aftermath to deal with. A lot of it will be occurring over IG RP and such, but there'll still be bits of story I'd like to just hammer out on my lonesome. I hope no one minds. Blush

Oh, it should be noted that there's a lot of other stuff spinning off from this event! Like Artemis' dealings with the drained Soul Crystals, and what happened after John used his powers to try and help Gogonji. Not to mention Annunu. Please give them a look too!

For now, something that actually stems from yesterday's RP with John. I hope you enjoy.

And, as always, some music.
[youtube]oWTC7P1Dprw[/youtube]

I was actually listening to this for most of my RP with John. It was very... eerie and atmospheric. I hope you like. Laugh

He had been defeated.

Somehow, someone got wind of his plan and brought together a ragtag bunch of ruffians that came together and systematically unraveled everything he had built towards. All in the span of a few bells, everything his had worked and bled for had been dashed. His Commanders were intercepted and incarcerated, their underlings laid low or set to flight, and even his Eyes - established as a fail-safe against his Commanders' failures - had been overcome. In the case of that braggart Aerygoeya, he hadn't even made it out of his initial staging point - stopped before he could even truly begin.

If that had been all, however, he might have recovered. After all, they were mainly to serve as distractions and reignite the simmering flame between the Eorzean Alliance and Garlemald, to draw eyes away from his true objective. As long as he had succeeded in his infiltration into Castrum Centri, he could have snuck aboard the supply airship as it retreated and struck at the heart of that despicable nation. For killing his family and razing his home, he would take from them their Emperor and their capital. That had been the plan, kept close to his breast in fear it would be discovered.

Overambitious? Very. Ultimately fatalistic? Quite likely. And yet, when the various threads wove together into a plan of attack - the possibility of him dying seemed so... insignificant in the light of divine retribution.

Somehow, she had changed that.

Originally considered little more than a hard-to-read nuisance and possible Garlean plant, the Lalafell known as Annunu Nunu had remained steadfast at his side since she appeared before him at the Bobbing Cork. For some unfathomable reason, she refused to leave him; going so far as to give up on everything she had - including a potential marriage, if the proposal at the pilgrimage for Thaliak was to be believed - in order to do so. All to be little more than his weapon to be used in his bloody campaign of revenge against the nation of Garlemald, and she seemed content with that.

But slowly, Gogonji began to realize that he didn't. He had no logical reason to make her the fourth Commander, to alter his plan to have her accompany him on an other-wise one-man mission with the rest of his unit serving as a distraction, yet he did. When she referred to herself as a tool the sun prior to the operation - on the very ledge they had first met, those many moons ago - he had felt a strange pang of regret. He had - for a reason that continued to elude him - felt inclined to give her his true name, rather than the monicker he had been using for so long. And yet it still bothered him when she called him "Master" Gogonji.

And that was why, rather than simply abandoning her when that aforementioned bad of miscreants burst into Castrum Centri to pursue him, he ordered her to retreat and rejoin him. And, when she did - battered and bloody, dragging herself across the cold floor of the Castrum to return to him - that a sudden fear welled inside of him. A fear that built into a rage not unlike what he had experienced in Doma, when he had seen all that he had lost. And yet this was different - he could do something here, he could save her.

And in his fury, in his upwelling of rage and emotion, his hold on that metaphysical prison in his own mind began to weaken. In his desperate battle against the eight arrayed against him, he pushed himself to a limit he had only done twice before, and then - goaded by the voices that were not his own - he went far beyond it.  And, within seconds, the cage burst.

Memories, ambitions, and desires - all encountered piecemeal before - erupted from the dark part of his mind like a tidal wave. It swept him up and engulfed him, drowning him in thoughts not his own. And it was all he could do as he watched as the spirits of the Soul Crystals - the ten ancient heroes that refused to be forgotten - moved his body like a puppet, spoke through his mouth like he was some Garlean radio transmitter. But without the familiarity of the body they housed, and without Gogonji's will forcing them to work together, they conflicted and clashed and fought for control of the Lalafell's body to overcome the threat before them. And, divided, they fell.

And, in that brief moment before unconsciousness, Gogonji's mind was wholly his again, if only for a moment. He saw his brother, weeping and casting the same spell he had taught him all those cycles ago - even using the made up words he had added for flair - to mend his broken form. He saw Annunu, desperate to get any sign of life out of him, to ensure that he had not passed on and left her behind. And those who had fought to stop him, now sought to save him. It was with those thoughts that he fell into the blackness.

And now, as he slumbered, the same mental fortitude that he had used to confine the ancient thoughts and memories within the darkest part of his mind was now being used to wall himself away from the turbulent chaos within his own head. The awakened soul fragments - absorbed into him somehow during that final clash - raged outside his mental barrier, clashing against each other just as much as against his own psyche. Like before, they sought to overwhelm him, to consume him, to become him. To walk again upon Hydaelyn in a new vessel, and to affect the world through more than just the passing of knowledge through crystal.

Gogonji, however, refused to submit. The outermost shell of his barrier was wrought of the memory of that moment he had lost himself to them in the Castrum, bolstered by the fear and a stubborn refusal to let such a thing happen again. Behind it, reinforcing it, was his promise to Annunu and his brother - the brother he had so surely thought lost to him - that he wouldn't lose to these ancient souls. And, mixed with that, was every moment when Annunu quietly pleaded for him to to survive - to live. And Gogonji refused to deny her.

Bell upon bell upon bell since his fall, the soul fragments assailed his mental bastion. All energy gained from slumber was redirected solely in maintaining that barrier, maintaining his own identity against the conflicting egos. Every bell felt like an eternity, each passing second a chance he might slip and they'd overrun his defenses.

It was no help, then, when he felt another enter his mind. He had felt it so many times before - artificially through the use of his Wakener and its derivative Rousers - that he recognized it almost instantly. A Miqo'te - and an Arcanist at that - delving into his mind through some unknown method. His name was John. And his intent, unlike the raging fragments, was benign... and foolish.

Gogonji himself had spent much time being able to withstand and reject just two or three fragments' worth of memories. John, however, was diving into a vicious swirl of ten - and was quickly engulfed as the Lalafell had been at the Castrum. He drowned and flailed against the sights, sounds, and sensations before colliding against Gogonji's mental wall. And the Lalafell was left with but moments to make a decision.

Should he let the Miqo'te in? He would be safe inside the barrier, if none of the soul fragments slipped in with him. However, that would leave him just as trapped as Gogonji - worse so since it was in a mind not his own.

Should he just let John drown, then? It seemed the easy answer - it would require no effort of his own. And, perhaps, the soul fragments would move to latch on to the Miqo'te's form over his, freeing him from this torment.

And yet, before he fell under the onslaught, John had called for help. And one of the names he called for was Chachanji - his brother. He had used whatever power he had to dive into Gogonji's mind on behalf of his younger brother, and was going to lose himself because of it. And Gogonji refused.

With a statement that was both defiance against the soul fragments and a message for John to take with him, Gogonji forced the Miqo'te back out of his mind and into his own body. The fragments only then noticed the new arrival amidst their chaos - the new opportunity - but it was too late. The link was severed, and they were again left only each other and the Lalafell's psyche to assail. And yet, something was off...

"How astute." The voice came from within the barrier, within his safety zone. "And prudent."

Gogonji shifted in his sleep as his turned his mental attentions onto the intruder, seeking to expel it back out beyond his barrier and into the whirling chaos beyond. And yet, something about the fragment gave him pause, and he found himself in the Scholar's war room. It was all grayed out - the other members of the council naught but detail-less shadows, save for one. And despite never seeing it before, Gogonji knew it to be the Scholar.

"How'd you get in?" Gogonji demanded immediately, taking a step forward and scattering the figures scattered across the great map.

"How did I?" the Scholar echoed, turning the question back on him. Despite having asked the question, Gogonji already knew the answer: "When I ejected John."

"Correct." the Scholar affirmed with a nod. It was no surprise that a master tactician would be the first to notice and act upon a moment of weakness. That brief instant when Gogonji gathered energy to expel John, he had left himself open. It was then that the Scholar had breached his defenses while the rest feuded beyond it. "That was quite the snap judgment - saving that man from the madness and using him as a courier simultaneously."

"It was the best option," Gogonji countered flatly as he defiantly folded his arms over his chest. If the Scholar was offended by the Lalafell's curtness, he didn't show it. Instead he continued to gaze at the Doman, seeming to be looking at him and through him at the same time. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence before the Scholar spoke again, the other fragments raging noisily against the barrier just beyond the mental landscape.

"You have learned much of tactics. Both on your own and through... my crystal." The Scholar seemed uncomfortable for but a moment, as if unwilling to admit that his presence in the world had dwindled to no more than a hunk of solidified aether. "Your value of knowledge of all sorts, in fact, is noteworthy. As is your mind, for even managing to hold so stalwartly against so many threats."

"Your point?"

The Nymian's lip curled upward slightly.

"My point?" he echoed. "Since breaching your defenses, I have been perusing your memories, as you did to me with your strange device. The world out there..." The fragment hesitated again. "... is not mine. Nym has fallen, its people warped into alien forms, and the world beyond it is just as foreign to me."

The Scholar folded his hands behind his back, taking a couple steps towards the window of this mind-wrought chamber. Beyond it was naught but an image of the distant past, like a painting had been set in place of it. Like the fragment had said, what was truly beyond was nothing like what the Nymian remembered or knew.

"But you... you sought the knowledge of my people. To adapt and use in your era. The history of my people lives on in you and those like you. Through that knowledge, we endure." The Scholar turned his head towards the Lalafell. "And so, I shall give it to you."

"Give what?" Gogonji pressed, looking both wary and yet intrigued by the fragment's words.

"My knowledge, my memories, all that is left of me,"
the Nymian explained. "Who I am... who I was... no longer exists. And so, like your fellow Scholar said - I will leave things to the future. To you."

The chamber began to flicker and distort. The image beyond the window darkened and dissolved away, followed by the window and the wall around it. The table, the shadowy figures, everything fell apart like a sand dune under a harsh wind until all that remained was the floating forms of the Scholar and Gegenji. The former held up a hand, fragments swirling about it to form a glowing sphere. Within its glassy surface, images of the Nymian's life appeared and faded away on eternal loop.

"All I ask is a single favor. A boon to be given before I commit myself to nothingness."

Gogonji was hesitant. Was it a trick? A ploy to get him to lower his defenses and consume him? The Scholar noted the Lalafell's reluctance and chuckled.

"You are wary," he stated. "However, there is naught to gain from my seeking to overcome you. Your knowledge would be lost - for I have not your... ability - and I would be left to fend against the other fragments on my lonesome. A dire position indeed. And, even if I somehow overcame them all, I would be in a body not my own in a world not my own."

"Ability?" Gogonji queried. "... the Echo?"

The Nymian didn't answer. Instead, he turned fully to face Gogonji, that sphere of memories and knowledge floating in the space between his hands. It hovered in front of him like a fortune teller divining the future through her crystal ball. The Scholar's expression was firm as he spoke again.

"It would be prudent, then, to ensure my knowledge lives on. So I cast my lot with you. However..." His tone was grim. "Should you fall here, both our combined knowledge and experience would be lost - to whoever wins that free-for-all raging outside your walls. It is upon you to either destroy them... or win them over, and have them join you as I have... in order to fully overcome this ordeal."

"You sound confident I'll accept your... 'you'," Gogonji snapped, canting his head to one side.

"Do you reject it?"

Gogonji was silent for a moment before answering.

"... You requested a favor of me," he stated. "Speak it and perhaps I will honor it."

"In the War of the Magi, one of those lost in the bloody conflict was my wife," the Scholar intoned even as his form began to flicker and sink into the sphere. "In solemn remembrance of her, I gave her name to another."

The sphere floated lazily towards Gogonji, stopping a short distance from his chest. It waited, patiently, seeming to stare up at the Lalafell expectantly. The Doman stared at it in turn, saying and doing nothing for the longest time. Until, finally, he unfolded his arms and held a hand out to rest upon the essence of the ancient Nymian.

"Take care of Ezra."

The sphere flared brilliantly, and a warmth shot up Gogonji's arm. The knowledge that he had taken so forcefully before using the Rousers was there again, at his fingertips. And yet, it was different. It didn't feel stolen or forced. It felt like knowledge he had gained himself, garnered from fuzzy memories that felt more like his own than they had ever felt before. He knew they weren't truly his, but they didn't feel quite so foreign anymore either.

And, above Gogonji's sleeping form, a pinprick of light appeared as if from nowhere. It swelled and grew and spun above the Medical Ward's bed until, with a gentle pop, it burst open. And from within, a small winged form unfurled and opened her eyes. She looked about, she chimed in confusion, and then... Ezra swooped down to check on her Master.

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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#20
06-08-2015, 11:06 AM
Show Content
Preface
Another segment brought to mind after some wonderful RP recently with Howl (as Annunu) and Virara.

I'll be completely honest - I'm not entirely sure how (or if) Gogon will overcome or appease all ten fragments latched onto his soul. Scholar seemed simple enough - it was the only one he actually learned properly instead of siphoning the knowledge from the get-go using his Wakener or one of the Rousers. Not to mention I feel Scholar still resonates best as the job most fitting for Gogon.

As for the rest? No clue. However, after the discussion had on the docks in Mist near Coralhaus... this one just came to me. It seemed appropriate, given the circumstances, and I can only hope that the ideas for how to handle the rest of them come to me just as clearly.

Though, I wonder if overcoming two soul fragments in a week (albeit barely) might be going a bit too quick. It just seemed too perfect an opportunity to pass up on. And, hopefully, helps lay some mental groundwork on how to go about dealing with the others.

Either way, as always, I hope those who read this enjoy it. And, also as always, I have a musical piece picked out for it:
[youtube]KNnhMxuE4AA[/youtube]

It wasn't until after the Medical Ward fell to silence, after Gogonji drifted off to slumber, that he noticed a difference in the swirl of memories and voices in his mind. Much like when the Scholar had slipped through the brief gap in his mental wards, it seemed like one of the fragments had relented in its continued mental onslaught. Which one, he couldn't say without risking diving into that turbulent mass of chaos within his own head, but the slight reduction in the noise and pressure was still noticeable enough. Any relief was welcome, though to be complacent would be folly.

As such, Gogonji's first move was to examine his mental sanctuary, seeking to reveal the possible intruder. However, naught was with him but his own musings of the day's events - of the slow walk down to the docks, of his denial of Annunu... of An's request for punishment for her believed failings, and their lengthy discussion of motives and wants with the tall, purple-haired Plainsfolk. If one of the fragments had breached his barrier, if at all, then they had hidden themselves well. And if not, what was with the feeling of reduced stress on his mind?

The answer came, perhaps not all that surprisingly, when he put his whole focus back on the whirlwind of fragments as he slumbered. One of them had retreated to the outer edge of the swirling chaos, moving almost lazily outside the rest of the madness. Was it merely biding its time until its companions broke through the mental walls, or waiting for something else? As if to answer him, the fragment lurched forward through the jumbled whirlwind to stop patiently against his barrier. A small pool of calm in a raging river.

"... or win them over, and have them join you as I have..."

The Scholar's words bubbled to the surface - perhaps as a final effort of his fading independence, or perhaps just coming to mind as prudent thoughts tended to do. Whichever the reason, it seemed this particular fragment had suddenly become a lot less hostile and aggressive. If anything, it seemed... submissive. If there was a chance at appeasing the thing, now seemed the best time to try - if it was not just a ploy to breech his defenses.

Like with John suns before, Gogonji acted upon this fragment. Rather than try forcing it out - which the Lalafell knew was impossible, since it was latched onto his soul like some sort of metaphysical leech - he snagged it and pulled it into his sanctuary. Within this mind-scape, the fragment took on a shape of dark violets. And knelt before him, the mental plane around him coalescing into a place far too familiar to the Dunesfolk. And, when it spoke, it spoke in a language that too was far too familiar.

<Did you mean what you said?> the hazy form asked in Gogonji's native tongue. <Do you still seek to avenge Doma?>

It had observed the conversation with Virara, Gogonji noted with a cant of his head, the motion mirrored in the world of the living. Or perhaps the topics of discussion had resonated with its memories, and brought it out of its aimless fury. Whatever the case, the Ninja now knelt before him and awaited his answer.

<I spoke no lies,> the Lalafell stated flatly, responding in Doman even though he knew language irrelevant here. <While my rage is tempered by the survival of my family, Garlemald must yet be brought to task for what it has done.>

<I see.>

<I take it that you share no love for the Garleans either,> Gogonji commented. <Or, perhaps, are you one of those who betrayed our people?>

<No!> The response was emphatic, immediate, honest. The Ninja had risen slightly from his kneel in his adamant refusal, but seemed to catch himself and returned to his former position. He was quiet for a moment before uttering: <I... I was one betrayed.>

He hesitated again, continuing only once assured that Gogonji had nothing to add.

<When the Domans came, my clan fought against them like the rest,>
the Ninja explained, wall scrolls appearing and then unfurling on the walls around them - the memories of the battles drawn upon them in elegant strokes. <However, the Garlean numbers were many and their power great. Even with our skill and tactics, we were defeated like the rest and my homeland fell under their rule.>

<Our homeland.>

<... Our homeland...> the fragment echoed, giving a small nod of agreement at the abrupt correction. <However, rather than seek to continue the fight, to battle from the shadows against our oppressors... my clan...> He was silent for a long moment, turning to look away from the Lalafell. <... submitted. They sided with the enemy and brought with them the knowledge of our ninjitsu.>

<... And did you go with them?>

<No.> The word wasn't shouted this time, but had just as much intensity behind it. <When I learned of their treachery, I left my clan and sought to join another. I was forever an outlier with the new clan, but they were willing to accept those who sought Garlemald's defeat. And yet...>

The Ninja rose to his feet again, moving with agile grace towards the last wall scroll, which hung unopened on the wall behind him. He rested a hand upon it, hesitant to reveal the image within. Gogonji made no move to follow, simply watching as the Doman spirit gathered its thoughts and its composure.

<... when the time came... I could not draw steel against the clan I had been born into.> The crimson string holding the scroll closed dissolved away and the rice paper tumbled down to reveal the image emblazoned upon it. The figure - the same shown prominently in all the other scrolls - lay in a pool of blood, surrounded by other Ninjas engaged in battle. <They had no such qualms.>

<It remains my greatest dishonor.> The Ninja turned to face Gogonji once more. <To be of a clan that betrayed its nation to the enemy. To be the one who, when the moment of truth came... failed to bring rightful retribution to my kin.>

<And so you want me to do what you could not.> It was a statement more than a question. <You seek to restore your honor, and the honor of your clan, through me.>

<... Yes.> The Doman spirit dropped to a knee again. <You have shown you can amass an army to do your bidding. And even in failure, you still seek to exact your rightful vengeance against the enemy of our people. And I... wish to aid in that.>

<Should you choose this path, you will cease to exist.> Gogonji's tone was firm, level. <Like the Scholar before you, all that will remain is your knowledge and the faint remnants of memory that are attached to them.>

<Such... will be my penance.> The Ninja remained kneeling, his gaze fixed on the tatami beneath them. <And yet... if, from it, our people can be avenged... if Garlemald can be brought to justice for what it has done...>

The spirit looked up at the Lalafell, his dark eyes burning with intensity. All around them, the scrolls slowly began to furl back up in unison - tying themselves off with crimson string - as the reed walls and tatami floor dissolved away into blackness. Until there was but Gogonji and the Ninja, encircled by floating scrolls. All shut but one - the one behind him that so elegantly captured the moment of his fall. The moment of his failure.

<... Then it is a penance I accept gladly.>

The sealed scrolls all burst simultaneously into violet flame, the rice paper charring black before dissolving away. Even after the scrolls were gone, the fires remained - purple beacons against the darkness. Only the open scroll remained unlit, the backdrop for the kneeling Doman spirit. Both waiting on the words of the Lalafell standing before them.

<... Very well.> Gogonji nodded, holding out a hand to the kneeling form prostrated before him. <On my honor as one of the Gegenji clan, I will see that Garlemald receives justice for the atrocities it has committed against our people.>

The flame started at the bottom of the open scroll, violet fingers of flame crawling up its length to the top. As it burned, the other flames drew closer - bypassing Gogonji entirely to encircle the kneeling form of the Ninja. Once the open scroll had too been consumed, its flame joined the rest. The amethyst motes circled around the Doman spirit, spinning faster and faster as they drew closer until they engulfed his kneeling form. Several small violet flames became a single lilac-hued bonfire.

And that bonfire became a glimmering sphere - images from the scrolls flitting across its surface. Gogonji reached out for that sphere, and - like before - it flared and a strange warmth raced up his fingertips and through his arm. Again, memories and knowledge that had been stolen before now gifted themselves willingly into his mind and soul - without need of mechanical motivation. And along with them, a single word - echoing emphatically into the darkness.

"Arigatou."

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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#21
06-29-2015, 01:25 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-29-2015, 01:33 PM by Gegenji.)
Show Content
Preface
Heavensward! Laugh

A little over a week spent getting both Gegenji brothers up to 60. Gogon, as always, is going to be slowly worked towards capping everything, but that has those two squared away for the most part on the PvE side of things. What better time than a bit of a catchup on the RP side? This bit's events are tied to other posts here and here. It also is meant to be a bit of an overview of what Gogonji has and is currently dealing with right now in regards to the soul fragments.

He still has quite the ways to go. And, as mentioned in those links, the world of Hydaelyn certainly isn't going to wait around for him. How he deals with it, and what comes of it? Well, we'll just have to see, won't we? Wink

I have no real set music for this one. It kind of came to me spur of the moment, so I just sort of flit through YouTube songs while writing. I'll just put one of them here and hope you enjoy.
[youtube]A2qrWLCqDPA[/youtube]

It was a struggle - it was always a struggle in Gogonji's waking hours. And sometimes even when he slumbered. Memories and identities seeking to force themselves upon him, to subvert his very being and replace it with their own. Broken, fragmented, and amidst others in a whirlpool of existential fury and chaos, the essences of the Soul Crystals seemed to want nothing more than another taste of that brief in the Castrum. To once again be able to affect the world that had long since forgotten them through the green-haired Lalafell.

There were moments, though, moments when something called to the fragments and wakened them from their blind rage and scrambling for mental domination. The link between Gogonji and his original Scholar crystal had called to the Nymian tactician first and foremost, making the Scholar his first. His passion to avenge his homeland from the machinations of the Garleans had roused the Ninja and brought him into subservience. And, in what was a break in the trend, it had been Chachanji's friend Virara that had called to the lady Monk and seek to teach rather than subvert. In all cases, some sort of resonance was needed to break the fragment free, to make them open to discussion and possible compliance.

Until that point was reached again, Gogonji had no choice but to wall himself against them like he had for what felt like moons now. Enshroud himself in his own memories like a great mental cocoon to maintain his identify and his control. Any flash of emotion, any lapse in focus, could be the foothold to bring the undesirables clambering over his walls and casting his consciousness to the aether. This made any motion he made, any words he spoke, slow and deliberate - guarding himself before each movement and each utterance. To the uniformed, he might seem mentally handicapped... and perhaps that is what one could term him - he was working under a great handicap to function anywhere close to normal.

Oddly enough, while the fragments were the source of his problems - they were also part of the solution. Not only were the three he had properly "bonded" with no longer harassing him alongside the other seven, but they provided other assistance as well. Focusing exercises, meditations, aligning his chakra, all skills wrought from now-fuzzy memories in a desperate attempt to grasp for any extra resources to shore up his mental defenses. It was not enough to permanently push back the remaining fragments until he was ready to deal with them, but it allowed him to commit more energy to other tasks.

Before the acquiescence of the Scholar, Gogonji sought to keep himself asleep as much as possible - a sort of self-induced coma to focus every last scrap of energy on fighting a one-man mental war against ten. It was only his stubborn will, his prior experience and training with the Rousers, and perhaps that flicker of an Echo of his that had kept his mind from utterly collapsing under the strain... but only barely. He had been completely reliant on An and the nurses to tend to his corporeal form while he dealt with the incorporeal.

However, that crucible had also served to hone his mental defenses to their absolute limit. In doing so, even one fragment relenting meant resources freed. While he still spent most of his time in slumber due to the strain, Gogonji could quietly put aside some energy for other things. It had been that wellspring of meager scraps that had allowed him - again with assistance by An - to be brought down to Mist's dock. Which had resulted in meeting with Virara the first time outside of a combat situation, and their discussion had been the impetus that roused the Ninja.

And with the purple-haired Lalafell's physical imbalance having called to the Monk, that was a near-third fewer entities hammering at his mental walls. This meant a lot more energy that could be spent elsewhere. While before he was restricted to his bed in the Medical Ward or moving about with someone to prop him up like some hobbled elder, he now could again interact with the world of the living - albeit in his slow, calculated manner. He had made a few slow trips down to the docks again on his lonesome, aided by a walking stick he was able to acquire by request from the Still Shore's medical staff. And despite the twitches of his limbs - the continued attempt by the chaotic mental whirlpool to again tug at his puppet strings - there was a liberating feeling of being able to mostly move under his own power once again.

But what to do with himself? While he himself felt his assault against the Garleans felt justified - albeit slightly less so upon discovering that his family was alive and well - he would certainly still be considered an enemy of the state to those aware of the undertakings. And, given the number his brother had amassed in order to put a stop to his plans, it was obvious that his carefully concealed plans had certainly been leaked to a reasonable degree. How much so, he was uncertain, but it had been enough for An to offer herself up to take the fall. He had wanted to refute her plan, deny her, but he had been in no place to make such demands nor enforce them.

All he could do was acquiesce to her plan and bade her to return to him, as he always did. As he recovered his strength, he had sought to help her and guide her - minimizing the losses that she would certainly undergo in this fool's errand of hers - though his knowledge of the Ul'dahn legal system was tenuous at best. So, he was genuinely surprised by the lady Lalafell's cunning when she made herself seem less desirable by spreading rumors of her lost fortune - to dissuade his concerns about her being taken as a bride in return for the dropping of the charges. Yet, coin was still king in the Jewel, and someone divested of it would have little power.

And so, when he learned of the guilty verdict - and this "security review" - he had sought to learn more. Keeping the news article with him, he had inquired to the best of his limited abilities on the various personages mentioned within. Of An's current location, of the whereabouts of her once-beau Chuta Allfriend, and - most importantly - what he could learn of the head of this security unit, Elyas Rosewater. The surveillance that the lady Lalafell had noted during their rare outings, and her mentions of those aligned against her... it had all left a bad taste in his mouth. And, partially recovered as he was, he was not about to take such things sitting down.

He trusted An's knowledge, her skill, her capability. However, Gogonji simply did not like the idea of an unknown enemy with unknown resources and unknown motives. The tactician in him - both himself and the remnants of the Nymian Scholar - saw the inherent dangers of such things. So, while he might not do much more than gather information through what limited means he had left to him, it would still help piece together the larger picture and whatever machinations were unfolding. Then, should he be required to move to ensure An's safe return, he would be able to do so.

And Twelve help this Rosewater fellow if he should try anything underhanded or untoward.

Chachanji Gegenji | Gogonji Gegenji | Judge Jredthys
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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#22
07-21-2015, 01:50 PM
Show Content
Preface
Eesh, it's been almost a MONTH since I last posted something here. Judge has joined the Gegenji brothers at 60 and I've made a clear point of kicking Alexander until he coughs up my loots the past couple weeks. Gathering glamours and gear and other such things eat up quite a bit of time.

And I'm trying to hunt down RP in all that, too. How hectic. Fortunately, I've managed here and there... and it turns out that an RP with Chachan served as the impetus for this current segment! Things are a little less... structured in my story plans at this point, as one might be able to tell, and so I don't rightly know how much longer Gogon will be dealing with these fragments. Or if/when he'll overcome them... and what will ultimately become of him. The mystery's part of the fun, though, right?

For now, enjoy something a little more... laid back. With music to match.
[youtube]mcnSws8hUtQ[/youtube]

"S-so, u-um... h-here, Go-nii!"

Gogonji stared down at the small crystal sphere his brother had more or less forced into his hand after a stuttered introduction he only caught snippets of, interrupting his seaside reading at the Mist docks. A linkpearl - the method of access to a linkshell and all other individuals who had similarly tuned pearls. He was not unfamiliar with the technology, having used a lesser known facet of it - the ability to record, as demonstrated in the Garlean propaganda tactics several cycles back - when dealing with that contemptible upstart Rosewater. He had even thought to utilize them in his four-pronged assault on the various Garlean footholds in Eorzea, but had discarded the notion for fear of a pearl falling into the wrong hands and intel being leaked to the undesirables. Conversely, it had meant that he did not know his plan had all but crumbled until Chachanji and his companions confronted him atop the Castrum Centri.

"J-just keep that wit ya, akay?" his younger sibling intoned, fidgeting as if he had some small creature loose in his shirt and causing a small symphony of creaks from the boards beneath his booted feet. The constant motion drew the elder's violet eyes back to his brother, peering over the rim of his glasses at his restless sibling. Chachanji's own purple orbs met briefly with Gogonji's, then were forced away towards the water as he scratched bashfully at that floofy mass of emerald hair. "Th-that way we can... y'know, keep in touch."

He still hadn't quite gotten used to it, even though he had to ultimately come to grips with it in Mor Dhona. The little sprout that would follow him around aimlessly draped in chocobo-themed pajamas and begging for hero stories, now a teenager laden with muscle not unlike their Father. On the cusp of adulthood, and yet still very much the overly-cheery, awkward little boy that Gogonji remembered. He didn't remember the kid being quite so nervous and worried as he seemed to be these suns, but the time apart had changed both of them quite a bit. And yet the sibling bond between them still remained, which the elder brother found rather... comforting.

"I... see..." Gogonji murmured vaguely, setting the pearl on the coaster next to his still-steaming cup of tea. His fingers wrapped neatly around the handle and the older Gegenji brother brought the hot drink to his lips, pausing only briefly to see if his younger sibling had anything further to press upon him before taking a long sip. He had been about to partake of the tea before continuing with his reading, but the hurried entry by little Chachanji had suitably distracted him from that. Still very much like the boy he remembered, bursting in with whatever idea was fresh in his mind. Though, they used to be about hero stories and imagined adventures over much more tangible concerns such as these.

It was easy to read exactly what bothered Chachanji, even without having spent as much time with the boy as Gogonji had. He wanted a method in which to remain in contact with his older sibling, should they be apart again for an undefined length of time - to avoid the cycles of silence and uncertainty wrought from when the elder brother had left home. The idea of being beholden to such a small object sickened Gogonji to some degree - preferring to have complete and utter control over who could speak to him and when, if possible - but he had to admit the merits of the linkpearl. After all, if he and his brother had possessed such ready communication betwixt them, he might have been better informed on the razing of Doma and the wellbeing of his family. While it still might not have prevented his desire to see Garlemald punished for the atrocities they committed against his homeland, he might not have chosen so bloody a path to walk to achieve it.

What was done was done, however, Gogonji mused as his free hand found its way into the fluffy mass of his brother's hair to give it an approving ruffle as he took another sip of tea. The younger gave out a familiar little happy squeak, squeezing one eye shut even as his lips curled up in a little timid smile. Chachanji still fidgeted about beneath his brother's hand, but they were more happy wiggles than nervous twitches - like a pup that was being scratched in just the right spot. It had been a long time since he had done such things, and there was a warm remembrance in the action and its familiar result. Even if that mop of jade now seemed to be sporting a snowy cap of white atop it.

"Thank you, Chan," Gogonji said simply, returning the free hand to rest around the side of his tea cup as his gaze moved back to the linkpearl. "I will... keep it close. I would return... to my reading, now."

He was answered with an eager nod from an eager younger sibling, Chachanji's hands clasped submissively in front of him as he did so. He hesitated but a moment afterward to ensure everything was okay before leaving his older brother to his own devices as he padded his way up towards Mist proper. Gogonji watched him go, his free hand dropping from the side of the teacup to rest atop the closed book in his lap. It was a dusty, aged thing - procured from a merchant in Hawker's Alley in Limsa - that delved into various manners of magical theory. Most notably, the evolution of Arcanima from the Nymian arts, which were believed to come from techniques far older - perhaps from the magical practices of the ancient Allagan themselves.

With the fewer fragments assailing him than when he first overloaded the Rousers - down to six now from the original ten, after his meeting with Rosewater had brought the ancient Sultansworn fragment to his side - the lengthy down-times were spent less on keeping them at bay and more seeking to decipher ways to deal with them. He had learned soon enough that a sort of stimulus was needed to wake them from their mindless fury, to bring them "to the table" so to speak and ready to deal with the dour Lalafell on more civilized terms. Before, he could only hope that something would catch their interest and allow him the reprieve that went along with it. Now, he more actively sought the means to induce such moments of clarity.

The fragment of the Summoner was his current goal, as could easily be guessed by his reading material. Considering the similarity of its magic to arcanima he originally started with and the Scholastic arts he progressed to, it seemed the most logical soul to seek parlay with in his first active attempts to do so. First, however, he had to find a way to rouse it from the whirling chaos of memories and rage that still continued to batter itself against his mental defenses. That required delving into the history of the Summoning arts, in hopes that - if the history itself didn't catch the fragment's attentions - the Doman Lalafell might find something that would garner its interest. So far, the best option seemed to be to find himself a Primal, the ancient enemy of the Allagan Summoners - but Gogonji was neither of mind nor of form to go for that particular route.

And so Gogonji read and mused and theorized. Perhaps just finding someone capable of Summoning might be enough to garner the fragment's attentions - hunting down someone who had bathed enough in Primal aether to form an Egi was likely to be much less dangerous than seeking audience with the Primal itself. He would need to re-establish whatever lines of communication he could after the fall of Khamja, or perhaps find himself some new ones, and see if he could find himself any current practitioners of the ancient Art. In the meantime, perhaps he could speak with that one Hyur woman he had met at the Still Shore - Sasha, if he recalled her name correctly - and see if she might be in possession of some useful reading material on the subject. Even if it wasn't enough to rouse the fragment from its madness, the theories and formulae were inherently interesting in and of themselves - and he wouldn't be overly adverse to being able to converse with someone who had at least a passing knowledge in mathemagical combat theorems, even if her choice of husband was highly questionable.

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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#23
08-10-2015, 01:35 PM
Show Content
Preface
I'm still here, I'm still here! Laugh

Got a bit of a lengthy one this time. Had a couple events that I was-slash-am a part of and thought a nice story bit would nestle well right in-between. That and give the other side of the apparent mental-case I had Gogon doing during the Runestone on Sunday. So you can all see he isn't totally crazy!

... just possibly mostly...

This one likely has the most references to other players in it too. It opens with talk of Leanne and Annunu in a remembrance bit, and leads into all the folks Gogon interacted with at the Runestone. We got Jana, Shoshopu, Artemis, and (though unnamed) Edgar. There were others there, like the other Summoner with the Carbuncle, the Jana "fans", and Shopu's hubby... but this piece was getting pretty wordy as it was.

Anyway, I feel the ending is a bit... jarring? But hopefully the whole thing is still enjoyable. And it segues into the IC dungeon delve that Gogon is doing with Sasha (another player name-drop, oh my)! What comes of that, we'll have to see.

Until then, musics!

[youtube]M3hFN8UrBPw[/youtube]

Soup instead of tea, heading from Revenant's Toll instead of ultimately towards it, and in simple transit rather than frantic escape from a seemingly compromised position. While the circumstances were quite different for his return to this little tavern in the Observatorium - which Gogonji recalled was egregiously named the Full Ewer only yalms away from the establishment - it all still brought a flood of memories to the fore. Of the Miqo'te who knew far too much, of his wary doubts on the unreadable Annunu, and of a time where he was swiftly moving the pieces into place to carve that bloody swath of vengeance in the name of his fallen family and homeland. Memories of a time before the confrontation, the conflict, the collapse, and - most alliteratively appropriate, desired or not - the consequences.

It could have been worse, all things considered. The elder Gegenji brother could have perished in that battle; wholly vanquished while still clinging to the misguided belief that he was bringing divine retribution for the believed loss of his family. His tale could have been brought abruptly to an end there in the Castrum, finding the vengeful Lalafell from Doma in a coffin rather than a medical cot. A fall followed by a - likely sparsely attended, he noted dourly as he spooned another helping of soup into his mouth - funeral instead of a lengthy recovery.

Conversely, Gogonji could have succeeded, making his way into the heart of Garlemald and razing its capital in karmic retaliation for Doma. Again, his story could have ended there - in a blaze of glory rather than a hollow defeat in the Castrum - or he could have returned to Annunu and Khamja, ready to continue bringing the long-needed punishment to the Garlean people that the "Eorzean Alliance" refused to bring. The organization would have forced them into having to retreat as refugees, as they had to both to Gogonji's own people. And the Lalafell would have remained blissfully unaware of the the complete and utter terror it was to watch one's body be overtaken and puppeted against their will.

Even just recalling that moment sent a horrified shiver down the Doman's spine, forcing him to return his spoon to the bowl lest he drop it. It would be far from exaggeration to describe it as the source of the majority of his current troubles: the lengthy time spent bedridden to keep the wailing fragments at bay, the inability to have played a larger role in An's plans to deal with the fallout of Khamja, and the time wasted seeking to somehow appease these phantom remnants so that he could return to some degree of normalcy. Even Gogonji's current journey to Ishgard, though originally for other reasons, had also been tainted by the all-consuming issue of the soul fragments.

Everything seemed to have been going well enough - his postulated hypothesis being that the Summoner fragment would be roused from the whirling pool of madness by seeing their ancient Allagan art being used for glorified arcane slap-fights at the brutish display known as the Runestone. The first visit had proved fruitless at first - with not a single practitioner of Summoning participating - but the elder Gegenji brother had fallen into conversation with one who had been merely spectating. Not only was he able to garner some valuable information on the true origin of modern day Arcanima, the meeting of this Jana led to a seemingly chance encounter with the wielder of the Leviathan-egi Shoshopu Shopu. And from that, a chance to see two Summoners face off against each other for simple bloodsport - a scene most certainly to rouse the Summoner fragment from its blind fury.

And it was almost all for naught - only one of them, Jana, was present in the lineup for the following Runestone. Yet Nymeia seemed to also desire a Summoner's duel, bringing to the competition a fledgling Summoner out to prove her worth with little more than her Ifrit-egi and her stalwart Carbuncle. The Spinner's wishes continued to align with the elder Gegenji brother as both defeated their opponents in the first round, leading to the two of them paired against each other. Even the arrival of a self-proscribed pioneer and "fellow connoisseur of Allagan history" to watch and provide unneeded commentary on the match failed to hinder the progress of the experiment. Even better, Jana's mighty Titan-egi was ultimately trumped by the twice-degraded echo of egi-summons: the lowly Carbuncle.

A little jostling - both outward and inward - was enough to see the experiment bear fruit, and the Summoner fragment stirring itself from the whirlpool of hate within his being. However, rather than some ancient Allagan practitioner insulted by the devolution of their art to arcane cockfighting, Gogonji found himself dealing with a much more recent phantom - one he remembered far too well. In the mental plane, the Lalafell was forced to trade words with the Elezen woman slain by his own hand - the Ishgardian Summoner, Andienna.

"You," Gogonji had hissed silently as Jana discussed the art of Summoning to two eager spectators out in the land of the living, his astral form crossing its arms across his chest. "I should have known."

"And yet you didn't," the Elezen snapped back just as harshly, her tone as icy as the winds of her homeland. "And here I stand."

"Astute," the Lalafell murmured with a complete and utter lack of amusement or joy. "And again you interject yourself, giving rise to additional problems."

"'Additional problems'?"
she echoed, looking aghast. "You killed me."

"You attacked me with your egi and sought to steal my work," Gogonji snapped back. "It was clearly in self-defense. Or is your memory that spotty, fragment?"

"Fragment?"
she repeated, a look of confusion crossing her angular features, and garnering a sharp bark of laughter from the Lalafell.

"What, did you think you're some vengeful spirit set to haunt me for my misdeeds?" He waved a hand dismissively in front of his face before lowering it back to rest upon the opposite arm again. "At best, you're merely a slipshod entity wrought of lingering memories wrought from your soul crystal."

"You lie!"

"Do I?" the Doman pressed, giving a nonchalant shrug. "Search your memories... how much of your life can you recall? Do you even remember our delve into the ruins of Amdapor? Our meeting before that? Or anything before that at all?"

"Of course I do!" Andienna snarled back, taking a half-step back on the mental plane. Despite her adamant claim, or perhaps because of it, Gogonji took no small amount of enjoyment in watching the Elezen's furious glare twist into inward reflection and then confusion before settling into a look of dawning horror. "W-what did you do to me!?"

"Which you?" Gogonji asked coyly.

"Pray be frank with me!" she hissed, her tone mixed with both fury and grief. She took a step towards him, gesturing wildly and emphatically. "What have you done!?"

"What reason do I have to explain myself to you?" he snapped back just as darkly, canting his head to the side - a move mirrored by his real self as the conversation between Jana and the "connoisseur" continued apace, oblivious to this second one inside the Lalafell's mind. "You, who betrayed me. You, who sought to take my work from me. You, who tried to silence me for your own ambitions!"

"M-me!?" she scoffed, her fear feeding her anger and righteous indignation like dry wood to a flame. "You were holding a tool that could end a thousand-year war! You were hoarding knowledge that could change things! Not just for me, but for all of Ishgard! All of Eorzea!"

"Perhaps I was," Gogonji responded, his tone starting dangerously low and building as he continued to speak. "Yet I had other purposes for it. A family, a nation to avenge for the atrocities committed upon them. An act that demanded retaliation. You had your war, but I also had mine!"

"Perhaps, but..."

"But nothing!" the Lalafell snapped, cutting off her argument before it could even being. "You can sputter and whine all you want about how 'unfair' things were for you, convince yourself that your treachery was a necessity. And yet! The soul crystals I laboriously gathered, the Awakener and Rousers I bled time and gil into the design and development of, the one-man war against the Garleans who razed my nation to the ground as a mere example to the rest of the world? That..."

Gogonji had unconsciously thrust her back out of his safe zone within his mind, casting her back into the roiling chaos of the other fragments. His words, however, still flowed - over physical lips rather than astral - and interrupted the conversation still being held by the pair of Miqo'te. The capper to an unseen and unheard argument, interjecting itself into a completely unrelated converasion.

"That... was MINE."

The outburst had led to questions and proddings, and Jana blindly assuming she had any clue of what was going on. Meanwhile, the interloper - whose name was never given to the Lalafell - continued his abrasive attempts to endear himself to the both of them. It capped with the male Miqo'te seeking Gogonji's name, blatantly acting as if he was anywhere on the Doman's level. And so he had rejected the Summoner and distanced himself from the noise. He had another nuisance to deal with, and he couldn't manage that with the mindless yapping of a pair of Miqo'te.

And so, overlooking the shallow river - away from the Wash and the Runestone continuing unabated therein - Gogonji sought out the phantom of Andienna within his mind again. Tossed back into the madness, she had been drowning and floundering in it like he had when they first assailed him. The Lalafell entertained the thought of leaving her to brave the chaos for a while longer, before realizing it would hinder his work more than it would help. She could be lost to it again, and he'd have to rouse her from it again - if would even be possible at that point. The risks too heavily outweighed the rewards, and he yanked the Elezen back to the sanctuary in his mind to further match wits with the fragment.

"Wh-what... what was that?" Andienna gasped, her icy temperament thawed by her more cognizant return to the whirling chaos. "Memories... desires... hate... all swirling and crashing like a horrible storm wrought by Halone herself."

"The aftermath," Gogonji stated curtly. "Of my crusade. Of the Wakener."

"That..." The Elezen caught herself, her icy wall rebuilding itself before she spoke again. "Well, serves you right. Hoarding all that knowledge for yourself, now you seek shelter from it."

"I can always throw you back."

"You wouldn't," she snapped, though there was a nervous tone there. "You need me. Otherwise you would have left me there to drown."

"Perhaps I should have," the Lalafell scoffed. "I do not 'need' you. I simply want that chaos out there gone. And since I cannot simply eject you since that would - while immensely enjoyable - be unnecessarily wasteful, I am forced to... negotiate."

"Negotiate?" Andienna repeated, a wry curl rising on her lip. Gogonji didn't like the looks of it, and his expression made that apparent. Which only seemed to further elate her.

"None of the fragments have been... overly willing... to give themselves up to me and be properly... melded."

"Gee, I wonder why."

"However," Gogonji continued, emphasizing the word to show his disdain for her unneeded commentary. "After some... discussion... I have managed to get them to agree. In return for... compensation." He paused momentarily, waiting for more snarky asides or useless parroting of the last word before continuing with a circular wave of his hand. "Usually a promise of some sort... or a task."

"And you follow through on them?" the Elezen asked skeptically, blurring her grin somewhat behind a long-fingered hand. "I can't see you of all people taking orders."

That garnered a dry, rasping sort of laugh from the Lalafell. "It's usually... things I would do anyway. Or minor nuisances." He began counting off on his fingers, as if he were reciting a grocery list rather than vows given to the coalesced remnants of ancient warriors. "Take care of my Fairy, avenge Doma, help a pugilist, and ensure a too-big-for-his-smallclothes Sultansworn gets knocked down a few pegs."

"And then you... 'meld'?"

"Essentially," Gogonji shrugged. "I gain bits of your knowledge... and memories... and you cease to exist." He waved a hand dismissively. "All that remains is fuzzy memories and vague knowledge, as if you were little more than a book I read once. Nowhere near the level of... synchronicity I had with the Rousers... but I suppose that's to be expected."

"Now hold on," Andienna interjected, motioning to herself. "So by 'melding' I... die?"

"You were never alive to begin with," the Doman corrected coldly, discussing such a grim matter as if he were teaching a math class. "The Awakener provided a sort of... artificial jolt to the crystallized aether in the soul crystals that provided a mere semblance of consciousness. Enough for me to utilize the knowledge and skill, and resulting in you..." He paused, making a wandering motion with his hand. "... Fragments, afterward."

"I would still, by your words, 'cease to exist'!" the Elezen refuted angrily. "Why would I want to even consider something like that?"

"Because the 'actual' you is gone; returned to the aether," Gogon stated matter-of-factually as he leaned forward, clasping his hands behind his back - a motion again mirrored in the land of the living. "All that's left of you is in here." He tapped on his head lightly with a finger. "If I die, or lose myself to the madness beyond these walls, then that is lost - permanently. By joining with me, you at least ensure something of you endures, since the soul crystals themselves are drained and dead."

"And what's to keep me from just overcoming you here?" Andienna sneered, motioning widely to the astral space. "Within the 'safety' of your walls?"

"If you could manage it, considering I held ten of you fragments at bay..." the Lalafell intoned as he leaned back again, "what would you have at the end of it? A body that is not yours, and only what few choice memories that made up the soul crystal you were birthed from." He shook his head, as if this should all be obvious. "Not to mention, then it would be you who would have to hold off that chaos out there. Do you think you could handle it?"

"W-who's to say I can't?"

"I can throw you back out there and we could see."

"No!" she snapped immediately, before catching herself and seeking to regain her haughty demeanor. "I mean... I have nothing to prove here. You're trying to convince me, are you not?"

"Have I not?"

"Not... not fully, no," the Elezen stated. For a moment, her icy glare melted into something more... forlorn. "I'm... all that's left, then?"

"Other than what frozen bits remain in what you left of my shack."

Andienna winced at the Lalafell's terse frankness, but continued. "And my family... knows naught? I... I think I kept my arts a secret from them. I can't recall. I know I... failed them in seeking to become a Dragoon, so I sought other methods."

A shrug was all she received, earning Gogonji another icy glare.

"The memories I still have... would you bring that to them?" she asked, surprisingly earnestly. "Along with what remains of my body? I... would wish to be properly remembered... an interred."

"Is that what you ask of me?"

There was a brief silence between them. Andienna stood silently, eyes closed in thought as she weighed her answer. Gogonji remained gruffly steadfast, waiting for the response he felt he knew was coming.

"... Yes."

"Then I shall do it," the Lalafell assured her in his own, indifferent way, holding out a hand expectantly. Andienna looked at the hand, then up at him, eyebrow raised. The two stood awkwardly like that in the astral landscape before Gogonji irritably murmured: "Well?"

"Well what?"

"I have agreed to your task, now give yourself unto me."

"What? No!" the Elezen snapped. "Not until you've done the task! Do you expect me to just fade into nothingness on a simple promise that you'll do what I've asked? Once you've seen my body to my House in Ishgard, then you will have my... err... me...-ness."

"That is not how this works."

"Well, this is how it's going to work if you want this!" She tapped at her head in a mockery of Gogon's own motion earlier. "Now, let's get going, already. Unless you have more self-righteous banter to fling my way."

"FINE," Gogonji snapped - his words again crossing the gap from astral landscape to the real world. It was then that he had stormed his way back through the Runestone, running across Jana and the others again. His brief query on the fastest route to Ishgard led into a most obnoxious of conversations as Artemis - another Elezen, which failed to be a shock to the Lalafell - sought to capitalize on this to garner his services again. Annoyingly persistent, she had still made the almost-valid point of having a guardian to protect him on his journey. While he did not feel he needed such things, at the very least he could use it as impetus to gain access to some of Andienna's promised knowledge and silence the living Elezen at the same time.

"I thought you didn't need my help,"
the fragment had commented with a wry grin, much to Gogonji's frustration. However, she relented, giving him enough knowledge to summon the Garuda-egi with the aid of the proper formula. Bringing forth the echo of the wind primal had only brought more questions - and the attentions - leading to talks of a full group gathering up to head on out on a trip north. A trip Gogonji would have rather made alone, and further irritated by how much Andienna seemed to be enjoying it.

In the end, he had whittled the group down to just himself, Jana, and the overly insistent Artemis. Fortunately, the former only desired to go as far as the Toll and the eldest Gegenji child lost the latter in the hustle and bustle of the fledgling city. Alone he had escaped out the gate and towards the snowy fields of Coerthas. Which brought him here to the Full Ewer, seeking to enjoy his soup as the other patrons nervously eyes the Garuda-egi sitting boredly on the other side of the table.

That was another problem - Andienna had somehow managed to taint the egi summoning, imprinting herself on the wind-elemented summon itself. So, the Lalafell was stuck dealing with the impatient fragment within and the impatient egi without. He would have just unsummoned it, as he had threatened back at the Runestone, but the assault by the pack of wolves that saw Annelace as a rather sizable meal had cemented the necessity of its presence. So, it was just something Gogonji would have to deal with for the time being.

... Not that he had to enjoy it.

"Hey," he called out, waving down one of the servers of the Ewer. "Do you... know where I could... obtain a small... wagon or such... that I could lash to... my chocobo?"

The glare from the Garuda-egi was withering, as was the outcry from the Summoner fragment in his head. To have her corporeal form lugged around like a merchant's wares - it was inexcusable! At least, until Gogonji offered the alternative of just lashing the body with corpse with rope and dragging it bodily all the way to Ishgard. After all, neither he nor Annelace were of enough physical strength to carry the body of an adult Elezen woman otherwise. Unless, of course, she wanted to wait for whatever red tape would be involved to send out someone to fetch her remains.

In the end, after another angry look from the egi, Andienna acquiesced to the original plan and a tiny, battered vegetable wagon was obtained and tied to Annelace. The barest of thanks given for the meal and the wagon, along with the proper coinage, and Gogonji set off again to complete this task set upon him. First to the ruins of his shack, then on to Ishgard. Both to be done with this nagging fragment, and to await the start of a much more interesting venture - to seek the knowledge of the Great Gubal Library, as offered by one Sasha Rochester and her supposed band of bodyguards.

Perhaps things would end up enjoyable after all.

Chachanji Gegenji | Gogonji Gegenji | Judge Jredthys
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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#24
08-18-2015, 03:07 PM
Show Content
Preface
Oof. Feeling a bit iffy about this one. Coming off of a lengthy Skype event and not one but two fun IG RP sessions with the grumpy Doman, I felt another little update of events was in order.

However, when I sat down to work on it, it sort of turned into more of a sibling moment between Chachan and Gogon. The events at the Library, and Tailfeather, and then the hot springs all ended up as more of an... afterthought. However, I know if I started trying to fiddling with it some more, I might never get it posted.

So... I'll put what I managed thus far, and either roll with what I put and leave the specific details of the events only in the minds of the participants (the most likely)... or come back to it later and edit in some clearer bits as my mind congeals them into some manner of prose. Either or.

Well, regardless, have some music!
[youtube]yDza9gjqM2o[/youtube]

"Wh-whaddya mean ya were rejected!?" Chachan yelped, slamming his gloved hands on top of the kotatsu and leaning so far forward his elder brother half-expected him to clamber onto it. "Y-ya didn't say nothin' wrong in th' interview! I was there!"

Gogonji remained unmoved by his brother's outburst, curling his more delicate fingers around the handle of his teacup and lifting it neatly off the saucer held in his other hand. He swirled the contents about idly, staring down at the emerald-green liquid within as the steam curled up to lick at the lenses of his glasses. The older Lalafell exhaled through his nose and then took a long sip of his tea, doing his best to ignore the worried pout his younger brother had going full force across the heated table.

"Of course... I didn't," Gogon agreed, setting both cup and saucer back down atop the kotatsu with minimal clatter. His lip curled up slightly in a sort of self-degrading sneer. "Still, I suppose... they don't see me... worth the risk. Their loss."

"R-risk?" the floofier-haired of the two echoed in confusion. "O-oh, th' whole Chem-Jar thing, right?"

"Khamja."

"'s what I said. A-anyroad, ya got abbey-solved'a all that, didn't ya?"

"Absolved," Gogonji corrected again flatly, seeming unfettered by his younger sibling's stumbling over the more complex Eorzean words. "And... to a degree, yes. The Flames... had been informed... of my plans. So An... moved to have... the record cleaned."

"An? Oh, Ms. Annunu? So she was that Chair-Blossom Social-light?" Gogonji wasn't entire sure if Chachanji wasn't doing this on purpose now. "S-still, that means... yer akay ta join, right?"

"Not according... to your... 'superiors,'" the older Dunesfolk stated without any measure of mirth in his words, his gaze turning to Ezra. The little Fairy was flitting about his younger brother's open hearth, tending to the stew-pot dangling over the hot coals. The boy had been keeping water and a variety of flowers in a covered dish above it, using the Doman-style cooking implement to provide fragrance rather than food. Gogonji had decided to use it for its intended purpose for once this sun. "However... as I said, it is... their loss."

Gogonji had initially held no interest in joining the Still Shore at all. Even before the incident at the Castrum, he had never been one to enjoy being beholden to someone else. It had only been after bells of begging and pleading by his younger kin that he even bothered to even approach the recruitment office, and the boy being behind him the whole way keeping him from simply walking away from the door once there. His reasons for his methods were his own, and he was not of a sort to share such things with the lecherous old Lalafell that served as the Sea's "quality control." It was for his brother sake that he remained as civil as he had, considering what he had to put up with.

"S-so, what're we gonna do now?"

"'We'?" Gogonji echoed, raising a brow even as he raised the teacup to his lips again.

"W-well, yeah, if'n Coralhaus won't take ya... th-then we hafta find somewhere else, right?" Chachanji stated, putting on a blatantly forced smile. Gogonji's eyes narrowed as he observed the younger Gegenji. It was fairly clear that the boy did not enjoy the idea of leaving these... people... for some reason or another. And yet, he did not want to abandon his older brother either - the conflict fairly visible in the violet eyes they shared and upon his freckled features. "I-I'm sure we can... f-find somewhere that'll take us both..."

"No." Gogonji set his teacup down firmly, snapping the boy's attention to it before up at his older brother's stern expression. "You... will remain here."

"B-but!" The boy leaned forward in protest, but his elder brother's hand found his fluffy mass of hair and rested itself upon it. It was a familiar, familial thing and quieted little Chachan quickly - as Gogonji knew it would. Some things never changed: the boy's chick-like eagerness to stay with him, and the little things that would calm him down.

"If they... cannot realize... the gold slipping through their fingers, then that... is on them," Gogonji explained, motioning to himself with his other hand before spreading it out to motion to the miniature smithy that was Chachanji's room. "You have... much established here; I would not... have you lose that." The image of the tall, purple-haired Lalafell with the misaligned chakra flitted through the older Gegenji's mind - the one similar to An, yet not quite the same. "Nor... those who you have... found here."

"B-but-but-but!" Chachan urged, his pleading little more than a soft whimper at this point under his brother's hand. "Wh-what 'bout you? I-I don't think they'll let ya stay in th' Medical Ward ferever!"

"Nor... do I plan to." Gogonji shook his head, removing his hand from atop his brother's fluffy mass of green and white hair and returning it to the handle of his teacup. "This is... your home, not mine. They made that... perfectly clear."

"S-so where will ya go?"

The elder of the two let out a dry, coughing sort of laugh, though one slightly more warm than the usual ones he plugged into conversation where he felt it fit. He raised the teacup to his lips, speaking just before taking another drought of its contents. "I have... managed... on my own... for nigh-on six cycles now. I... can manage."

"B-but yer not on yer own anymore, Go-nii!" the younger Gegenji insisted, the pout on his freckled face deepening with worry. "Y-ya could at least move back in wit Papa'n 'em."

"No." The word came sharp, like the lash of a whip, unbidden from the mustachioed Lalafell's lips over the rim of the teacup. The harshness sent the younger sibling stumbling back a bit on his own cushion, looking at the older in surprise and alarm. Gogonji closed his eyes to silently calm himself, and opened those violet orbs again after setting the piece of fine china back on its saucer; while he had meant his disinterest in such a plan, the tone in which it had been presented was unnecessary. "I will not... return to Father."

"But Go-nii..." came the immediate plea, as Gogonji knew it would. And he was ready with his counterpoint. Albeit worded much less harshly than the last.

"I have... a place," he explained, almost more as a teacher to a student than one sibling to another. "It requires... repairs... but I have lived... comfortably... in it for many a cycle. I will... return there." The elder Gegenji child saw his younger kin ready to argue further, and was quick to intercept it. "Not to mention... I am merely... a linkpearl away... no?"

Chachanji froze mid-argument at that point, finger curling before the hand and its twin returned themselves to his apron-covered lap.

"I-I 'spose that's true..." he admitted, though he still didn't sound too happy with that fact. "I-I can... come'n visit, right?"

"I would not... turn away... my own brother."

"'n-n I can bring me frands along too?" Chachanji pressed eagerly, starting to lean forward again. Gogonji could already see it in the boy's eyes - the teenager was likely imagining something like childish sleepovers or story-time sessions. The older Lalafell could easily see the little Dunesfolk laid out on the carpet of his shack with a whole retinue of little companions, all eager to hear him tell a story. It was equal parts degrading... and intriguing. After all, they would be seeking him out above all others for knowledge and entertainment.

"We... shall see," was Gogonji's settlement, turning his attentions back to the open hearth as Ezra chimed like Eorzea's friendliest kitchen timer. "Let us speak on it... later... after we have eaten."

"Akay!" the younger Gegenji answered with an contended nod, likely thinking this was all but settled. And, considering Gogonji's own thoughts on the matter, he wasn't entirely wrong. The latter watched with indifferent eyes as Chachanji hopped up to his feet. "I'mma go get some bowls from th' kitchen! I'll be right back!"

If Gogonji would have said anything in opposition, the boy wouldn't have heard it. He was out the door and down the hall in an instant, eager to share a meal with his elder brother. So instead, the older Dunesfolk simply returned his gaze to Ezra as she dutifully stirred at the pot, visions coming to mind of his little shack that sat nestled away in the endless white of Coerthas. It was a return to the colder climes, but its position couldn't be better. After all, not only was it nearer to the Library - should he not be of willingness to used the aetheryte within its depths - but it was also closer to the rest of Dravania as well.

The images in his mind shifted - to a different woman with an eyepatch than the young purple-haired companion of Chachanji's. A dark-haired Roegadyn woman he had met in Tailfeather on his return trip from the Library, glaring daggers into the crystal-clear waters of the river for some manner of inner clarity. For a fried chocobo wing and some bread, he had given her some his wisdom and knowledge instead. And, in the process, also started the first stages of what might prove to be a most interesting experiment. One that the unwitting subject rightfully felt she owed him for starting.

"Knowledge for knowledge" indeed.

In addition, it seemed the Serpent-Summoner and her companion were also seeking his subject. He had, in his inebriation during their conversations at the Bronze Lake springs, made mention of Tailfeather as where he had last seen her. Yet, had forgone clearly mentioning that she had left to seek chaotic locales as a point of meditation. If she remained in contact with him -and not so much with them - he could serve as quite the go-between for both parties. Proffering his knowledge for more knowledge in return, or more favors to be called upon at a later date.

Slowly but surely, Gogonji's web of contacts and information would begin to spin outward again. He had been long-stymied by the loss of his network as Khamja crumbled around him. He had put feelers out here and there as his condition allowed him, but had managed little. Now he was starting to move into a position where he could pursue this goal much more actively. To gather, control, and profit off of knowledge.

And all the while, the dour-faced Doman had another project that was already beginning to form in his mind well before his conversation with the one called War Siren. A proper stimulus had indeed been enough to rouse the Summoner fragment from its madness, even if the results had been questionable. Gogonji had been musing for a while on while one to seek next - and it seemed Nymeia herself had saw it fit to provide him the answer in the form of a very interesting book discovered in the depths of the Great Gubal Library.

A book that, quite literally, followed the Dunesfolk back out from that vast archive of knowledge, and set him on this next path. He had delved into the history of Nym, and even still sought more information on the mathemagical skills of the ancient Allagan. So, it only followed that the next fragment on the Lalafell's list be of another great aetheric power - one of the two that had ended with the world under malms of water. Through the journal that was supposedly penned by Shattoto herself - if the name on its weathered cover was to be believed - Gogonji would seek the might of the Mcachi.

And, while he was not wholly certain he could easily grasp such an alternate aetheric casting method from his own without the aid of his long-destroyed Rousers, Gogonji's conversation with the Hellsguard had brought to mind other ideas. Ideas that would benefit greatly from both the ancient Journal and what memories he could reclaim from the Mcachian fragment. It would be quite the experiment, one either on par or even far beyond the one he had set War Siren upon. The potential for new knowledge in the coming moons was staggering.

Gogonji could feel his mouth watering, and not just at the prospect of Ezra's stew.

Chachanji Gegenji | Gogonji Gegenji | Judge Jredthys
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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#25
09-08-2015, 09:29 AM
Show Content
Preface
Another long overdue update on the egotistical grump. He's had a couple meetings and a multi-day Skype adventure up in the Sea of Clouds, so there's plenty to pull from. And yet, I still feel this was a bit short. Hm.

Well, this is building up to two different climaxes in either case. One, most obviously, is the (hopefully final) confrontation with Rosewater and ending that lingering thorn in his side. The other, more surprisingly, is an emotional confrontation with his own younger brother. For, while Gogonji has declared How Things Will Be... it seems his younger brother isn't quite so willing to obey his elder as he once was. Both should be interesting encounters indeed.

And again, I find myself floundering for fitting music considering the change in tones through this little update piece. Ultimately, I decided to go for something nerdy and found me some Touhous to listen to while writing it. Might not wholly fit, unfortunately, but it's something. And I'm always open for song suggestions - if folks feel like there's a tune that might better fit one of the posted segments (or Gogon in general).

[youtube]4KSXb3_ndkU[/youtube]

Gogonji's thoughts were relatively light as he poured over the tomes he had procured from the depths of the Great Gubal Library. It had required some more of his aetheric reserves, but he had made a couple uses of that aetheryte the self-important frog had provided since his initial delve to search for other texts relating to his current topic of research. Treatises on the nature of aether itself and its distribution, both within and without of the corporeal form, were scattered amongst codices that seemed to have more formulas than words. Along with them were swaths of parchment, all laden with further calculations and symbols, with several more cast aside as little more than crumbled balls to be later collected and burned.

Not just to be rid of them, but to also obliterate any unnecessary evidence of the task he was working on. That and perhaps add a little bit of extra warmth to the chilly little shack squirreled away in the perpetual winter of Coerthas. The repairs on the place had long since completed, but the place still held a nasty chill that seemed quite unwilling to be chased away. The memories of what had occurred here with equally stubborn.

He had developed the Awakener here, a device meant to aid in the transfer of information in order to ultimately turn a profit off it in a bid to prove his business plan to his stubborn father. Its hulking frame had necessitated the development of a smaller, more risky mobile version in the Rouser that in and of itself was another massive drain on his financial resources. Awakener and Rouser, technology both that he had willingly weaponized in his bloody vengeance against the Garleans after the Razing of Doma. Technology that had turned one of his few allies traitor and had ultimately saddled him with literal ghosts of the past he had yet to fully shake off. And yet here he was again, continuing on in spite of that - in defiance of it - and, from all accounts, making some very solid progress in recovering from it all.

He had just returned from his meeting with Annunu up at the restaurant that overlooked the Toll, where he partook of much more than just the local food and drink. They had discussed the situation as it had progressed with that insufferable thorn Rosewater, and their plans to both cast him into tainted obscurity and ultimately remove him from the picture altogether. The lady Lalafell had seemed quite eager for the latter part, seemingly looking forward to the sun where she brought the underhanded Sultansworn to Gogonji for the punishment of his choosing. An ultimately final punishment, to be sure.

And for good reason, of course. The fool had thought himself better than he was, seeking to match wits against the elder Gegenji brother - and going so far as to try to manipulate An and use her as a tool for his own means. Perhaps that was the bit that irked the Doman the most, though he wasn't entirely sure why; the Hyur's unabashed attempts to use his An as a means of acquiescence and now as a mere toy to be used at his whim for whatever wish crossed his inferior mind. In their meeting at the Cork suns prior, the Plainsfolk girl had spoken of the paltry odds and ends he had tasked her to do. He had even had taken her to bed, which had caused an irrational flare of anger in the back of the Dunesfolk's mind.

He hadn't had his way with her like Gogonji had assumed in silent horror, as she clarified in their most recent meeting, but the idea of him tainting her in that way had still sat like a burning coal in his stomach since their last meeting. To the point that his mouth had bypassed his reason momentarily and he had offered to take her to bed instead, to which she had been surprisingly accommodating towards. However, due to the nature of their plans, it had to be something that could only take place after this next - and possibly penultimate - phase in their plans. And Gogonji found himself rather looking forward to what came after that, perhaps moreso than the removal of Rosewater himself.

And not just the possible coupling - though he found himself rather intrigued by the idea, as primal and base as such an act was - but more what would the conclusion of this plan ultimately meant. With Rosewater finally removed like the blighted boil he was, both An and himself would be wholly and utterly absolved of the weights of their deeds with Khamja. Free to live their lives as they so chose, unshackled by the fallout of the Castrum assaults - save for the fragments that still needed dealing with within the jade-haired Lalafell's mind. And, if the stirrings he was noticing as he delved into the aetheric studies was any indication, Gogonji might be taking another step soon in dealing with that particular obstacle as well.

That was not to say things had not been without complication, he noted as he looked over the formula he had just written before screwing his face into a look of absolute displeasure and crumpling it up into a ball in his frustration. Rosewater had deemed it prudent to gift Annunu with a necklace that was almost some manner of explosive collar to keep her obedient and pliable. As much as he hated the fools at the Ironworks for seeking to price gouge him and take his discoveries for their own, he also had been forced to admit that their general knowledge of magiteknology exceeded his own. And so, along with picking up a few books to seek to counter that imbalance, he had urged the lady Plainsfolk to have them take a look at the piece of jewelry and either disarm it or devise some manner of signal jammer to keep that insufferable Paladin from activating it. They had failed on the former, and so it was in their best interests to seek to deliver on the latter.

Gogonji's troubles weren't solely dominated by Rosewater and his indiscretions, however. There had been another: a tool he had sought to use to protect his younger brother in his absences - which would be much lengthier considering his rejection by Coral, another minor sore spot to his ego - had decided to turn on him and break the promise she had made. The one called Virara had been meant to aid and protect Chachanji on his little pseudo-heroic adventures, keep him safe and hale, and perhaps ultimately serve him as An had before their relationship had developed. However, she had decided that her little "training sessions" to fight her "Master" were far more important than the task Gogonji had magnanimously bequeathed to her, and thus had fled her duties - but not without leaving the younger Gegenji hobbled and recuperating from the falls he had taken because of her. The Coral staff had managed to tend to him well enough, but the older brother has still applied a bit of healing of his own to ensure the boy recovered cleanly as he had the tale recounted to him.

However, the other side of the equation had to be dealt with, Gogonji reminisced as he dipped his quill in the inkwell to begin his formulae anew. Despite the blustering and threats by not only one of the Coral's grunts but its leader itself, he had gone to see Virara taken to task for her indiscretions up in the Sea of Clouds where she had fled. It was not as simple a venture as he would have liked, since he was hindered not only by a need to resolve the conflict peaceably - more in deference to his younger brother than the murderous intent of the Free Company's head - but also by the Miqo'te Jana who had attached herself to his mission during the course of the arguments. And he was laden still-further when he found himself on the same airship as the hunter-songbird and her entourage that one of Coral's own had sent after Virara - despite Renzhen's constant outpourings about allowing her members their freedom to go where they will. Hypocrisy aside, Gogonji could only hope that the Au Ra's aggressive protection of her own extended to his younger brother as well - to do what the purple-haired Lalafell apparently would not.

And he found the aforementioned Lalafell, after bypassing one self-appointed guardian and bandying words with the two feathered Beast Tribesmen that served as another. Virara proved to not only be unapologetic for her transgressions, but adamantly against returning to the position as stated - twisting her own promise to him to her own ends. She had obviously thought her Master more important than the task Gogonji had given her, making her all but useless as a defensive tool since she would so willingly let the younger Gegenji come to harm again and again if it furthered her own base objectives. And so he had willingly annulled the promise between them and set forth another - since she was such a troubling entity, she would be forever barred from any interaction at all with his brother. He would find another to keep watch over his brother, from both the troubles the young Dunesfolk would get himself into - and from Virara herself.

Gogonji was still working on the latter, seeking a proper tool to fill the void left by that obviously defective one. This was his own brother, his own blood, after all and he would have nothing but the best. In the meantime, he had set Erwin to keep at least somewhat of an eye on the boy. It got the one-armed drunkard out his hair, and put him towards doing something actually useful. It might've evolved into a more permanent arrangement if he didn't half-expect the Highlander to drink himself into a stupor and let little Chachanji wander into danger while he was sleeping it off.

He refused to have anything close to a repeat of past events, to entrust Chachanji to someone who would so willingly see him harmed for their own agenda. The protector he would set in Virara's place would need to be strong like her, yes, but also several degrees more obedient. One that would do as they were told and properly take care of his younger brother, at the cost of their life if necessary, rather than leaving him to further their own unnecessary goals. Or, at the very least, not act in blatant contradiction of their role by injuring the boy in the process of attending to whatever inconsequential issue they needed handling.

The older Gegenji shook his head and pulled another piece of parchment from the sheaf of them set on the corner of his desk, clearing his head so that he would be ready to again seek to crack this code he had set before himself. He stalwartly reminded himself that things were continuing apace, and that was all that mattered. The Virara issue had been all but handled for the most part and the Rosewater situation would see itself wrapped up in a matter of moons at most. All that remained was this task he had started upon and dealing with the remainder of the fragments - one hopefully aiding in the other - and he could finally return to some degree of normalcy again. With An at his side.

That latter part had popped into his mind unintentionally, but Gogonji still found himself wondering which thought he enjoyed more.

Chachanji Gegenji | Gogonji Gegenji | Judge Jredthys
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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#26
09-28-2015, 10:36 AM
Show Content
Preface
Eesh, it's been a long time - almost three weeks since my last post here, though a bit of what the grump has been up to was mentioned here. After some plotting and scheming, Rosewater has been defeated and both Gogon and An have moved on to the next phase of their life - hopefully one without the overhanging memories of Khamja. However, there are fragments still left to be dealt with and Gogonji's never been the sort to sit idle when there's still knowledge to be had. Where this ultimately leads is still unknown, but let's check in on where he is right now.

And, as always, I'm always open to comments and critique on my writing either in thread, PM, or RPC chat! I'm always looking to improve and provide an enjoyable story to whoever takes the time to read my work. And, continuing another tradition of this thread, here is the "writan music" for this piece:

[youtube]JTPWBVsLKXU[/youtube]

Gogonji's fingers rested lightly on his forehead, splayed across its surface in such a manner that his middle finger brushed against the gem set in the middle of it. The stone was not one of the more familiar stones - such as emerald or peridot or even amber - but of moonstone. Used in the basis of many finer crafting tools, it should come as no surprise such a thing would be used to mark the next heir of the Gegenji line. In Eorzea, however, its polished glow brought to mind not only the moon, but also the god of knowledge - Thaliak. It was one of the few Eorzean deities that the Doman felt any sort of connection to, and he felt on the urge of mumbling some manner of halfhearted prayer up to the Scholar as he stared irritably at the parchment in front of him.

In the flicker of weak candlelight, strange and complex formulae were scattered across the paper's surface - the cast shadows transforming them into little creatures that seemed to dance and mock the Lalafell. Brooking no such insubordination from mere ink on parchment, Gogonji crumpled up the latest in a series of mathematical dead-ends, tossing it unceremoniously over his shoulder to join the rest that had taken up residents in and around the waste bin set there. He moved to grab a fresh sheet to begin anew but found himself hesitant, his spindly fingers retracting almost instinctively away from their goal. He had been at this for several bells now, and even this sun had been but one in a series of similar days spent pouring over geometries and equations. Each one ending the same - with all his failures left to become little more than added kindling to the fire that fought inexorably to warm his little cabin, tucked away amongst the icy cliffs of Coerthas.

And it seemed like this sun would be no different, as Gogonji pushed himself shakily from his desk - unconsciously making sure to avoid causing the grind of wood on wood as he did so. An lay slumbering in the bedroom, chased off to bed bells ago so that one of them at least would be able to face the morrow in a well-rested state, and the Doman felt himself unwilling to interrupt whatever dreams she may be having. Ever since the situation with Rosewater had come to a conclusion - with the Paladin returning to the aether consumed by his own rage and paranoia - the Plainsfolk woman had come to stay with Gogonji in his wintry safe-house. And, while he could not rightfully state that he disliked her presence here, it did mean there were several small things he found himself doing due to the addition of a second occupant. Well, third if one counted Ezra as a full occupant as well.

Some of the things weren't overly obstructive - keeping the place a little tidier, making two meals or cups of tea instead of just one, and ensuring the bed linens were fresh and clean. She oft helped with these, making these new additions to the daily events that much easier to take on. It was the other, lingering paranoia-based actions that he found a bit more worrisome. The slow migration of the more dangerous texts he had procured to the higher shelves, out of sight and mind, including a portfolio of his notes and diagrams for the Awakener and the Rousers. He had suffered treachery once before regarding those devices and, while he did not expect the same from An, hiding them away helped ease that illogical concern gnawing at the base of his mind. Not to mention putting an action to the thought of letting those suns become little more than fading memories.

His current project was also another thing Gogonji found himself being exceptionally cautious about. While An seemed oblivious to the lines upon lines of numbers and symbols scratched almost haphazardly upon the sheets of parchment, the Doman was nothing if not wary. Developing new magicks was a dangerous enough venture, even if it was a transliteration from one of the other schools of aetheric manipulation. Many of the books he had prised from the Great Gubal Library on the subject spoke at length of those who had misspoke or miscalculated by the smallest degree and suffered grave consequences because of it. And while Gogonji could rightfully say he had enough issues to deal with regarding the remaining fragments still swirling about in his mind, he also felt quite strongly that this was not something he wanted to drag his Plainsfolk cabin-mate into.

The past few moons had been just as hard on her - if not harder - than for the elder Gegenji brother. She had sacrificed much for him in his revenge-fueled quest against Garlemald, including taking the fall for him as he recovered from its less-than-stellar conclusion. From that, the insufferable Rosewater had managed to sink his claws into her - leading to her indentured servitude to the self-important Paladin. It had taken a lot of effort and manipulation to finally bring that matter to a close, and even now the two Lalafell were waiting patiently for any residual fallout to fade away into obscurity. The last thing either of them needed was another unnecessarily thrust into the spotlight - such as from a spell going horribly awry. This was a time for relaxation and reflection, as their little trip to the tea house and bath had neatly encompassed - though it wasn't without its own incidents.

And so Gogonji had spent much of his time studying and researching and crunching the numbers in the times An was away or asleep, to allow the Plainsfolk woman the time to recover. He had made several trips to the Runestone - some with An and some without - to quietly watch the combatants, seeking those who used the abilities he intended to replicate through Arcanima, but kept his reasonings for it purposefully vague. Unfortunately for him, those fighters that might've yielded useful data were either removed quickly by their opponents - perhaps due to their unwillingness to bring their full power to bear - or his potential observations were interrupted by outside distractions, such as with the Sultansworn-turned-Free Paladin Koporo Aporo (who, Gogonji noted, had been the source of a lot of recent irritation for both himself and An) or the obnoxiously verbose head of the pumpkin monopoly Gus Pumpkinweed. This left him with more irritations than substantial notes, his progress floundering in mathemagical limbo, and a general malaise he refused to admit to Annunu. And all through this, the fragment he had been seeking to rouse and ultimately aid him through all this - and the "cover" story he had been offering to his cabin-mate, since it was still technically a truthful statement - had remained stubbornly silent.

The Doman was not without his silver linings, however. The removal of Rosewater had been a monumental boon; with An's completion of her sentence and acquittal, the last remnants of Khamja's assaults were set to fade quietly into obscurity and allowing much more freedom for both of them. And while appropriate subjects for study had been few and far between at the Runestone, the upsurge in the use of Sharlayan Astrology had not escaped Gogonji's notice. He had been familiar enough with the Ishgardian version of it - even attempting some star readings on a fevered whim to ensure he had been prepared for everything come the four-pronged assault on the Garlean strongholds - but this style seemed to have many more... practical uses. Even now, he found himself calculating trajectory arcs and the degrees of aetheric deflection through simulation of gravitational lensing as seen in his last venture to Fesca's Wash.

Gogonji cricked his neck idly to chase away some lingering stiffness, and an errant thought came to him. Sharlayan Astrology seemed to draw its power from the stars, heavenly bodies affixed in the night sky, and used at least some degree of recognizable mathematics and scientific reasoning. Perhaps it could serve well as a manner of... practice... for him to attempt transliterating that into mathemagical formulae first. A bit of a deviation from repeatedly banging against his head against the aetheric wall he had been seeking to overcome for the past moon or so. Not to mention that it was another potential wellspring of knowledge and power to tap into even if he couldn't directly adapt it fully into the tenants of Arcanima - and one with no errant soul fragment attached to it to worry about.

It would be not unlike when he first stumbled across those texts on Arcanima back when he was but a youth, which set him upon his path for knowledge as he found what felt like the perfect use of his mathematical expertise. Just as it led him to the ancient civilization of Nym and ultimately the ancient mathemagical techniques of the Allagan summoners, perhaps this delve into Astrology could also open more doors to him. Not to mention that divining knowledge of future events through the positions of the stars, while a bit questionable in theory, could serve a great tactical benefit if accurate. After all, knowing what an opponent would be doing in the future is quite the asset.

A shadow of a grin curled at the edges of Gogonji's lips as he thought on it, his mustache twitching a little in bemusement as he hefted the waste bin towards the crackling fireplace. Such a distraction from his current stymied project might be just the thing he needed to escape from this mathemagical rut of his, and the Dunesfolk found himself rather eagerly considering how best to begin. Even as he tossed the crumpled balls of failure into the all-consuming flames, he mentally went over what texts he had on Astrology already from his brief dip into the practice and mused on what insights the Library could provide him. It as if the mere idea of all this was like a revitalizing cup of tea, leaving him focused and energized by all the myriad possibilities suddenly open to him. The Lalafell even had half a mind to whisk himself off to the Library right now and begin this new side-project of his immediately.

And yet, even as his mind was fired up and eager to go, Gogonji's body was just as quick to remind him of its own fatigue. The sun would be rising in a few bells and he hadn't had a lick of sleep since pulling something similar the previous night in another fruitless attempt to crack the mathemagical code he had set himself upon.  Even as he set the now-empty waste bin down, the Doman noticed his hands were shaking - and not just from the excitement of a new source of potential knowledge. Resting heavily on his cane, the Lalafell was forced to admit that he was in no position to make the journey to the Library - his energy was too low to make the aetheric jump and he was certainly in no condition to make such a lengthy journey on foot in the dead of night. As much as he wanted to jump into this new venue of research and study, Gogonji had to admit that it would be best to approach it fresh after a good night's sleep.

Still, even as he made his way to join An beneath the warm covers, Gogonji couldn't help but snatch up the couple tomes he had on the Ishgardian style of Astrology.  A little light reading on the matter before succumbing to slumber certainly couldn't hurt, and the refresher would be helpful for the following sun's itinerary. And so, as the the night crept towards dawn, the Lalafell appeased both body and mind in the soft sanctuary of his bed. He managed to make it halfway through the first of the two texts before sleep claimed him, and he fell back against his pillow with his glasses still on and the open book resting against the soft rise and fall of his chest. And so he dreamed; of stars and stratagems, of constellations and of knowledge yet to be obtained.

And in his sleep, next to An and with a new goal firmly set in mind, he shifted and murmured a noise that could possibly be considered some manner of contentment.

Chachanji Gegenji | Gogonji Gegenji | Judge Jredthys
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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#27
11-14-2015, 06:20 PM
Show Content
Preface
Another lengthy period of no posting, sorry about that - I don't honestly want to make a habit of this...

Though I can't say that nothing's been happening. Gogon ended up on a hunt for a runaway Coral member, held a party to announce "Tmesis Oan" taking on Annunu as a mate, and continuing his delve into the dark world of information brokering... He's been rather busy.

However, in all this, he's missed something a bit important regarding a... demand he made of his younger sibling. And it has come to his attention. And so we enter the scene...

Thematic music (that is in no way just because Undertale just has really awesome music, honest...):
[youtube]8pCThaREBc4[/youtube]

"We must have words."

That was the phrase Gogonji used when he spoke to his younger brother over the linkpearl the stout Dunesfolk had given him. He hadn't made much use of it prior - Chachanji had a habit of being rather loose-lipped, so the eldest Gegenji child had found it prudent to not speak much on his ventures until well after the fact with him - but he found himself glad at having it given the circumstances. Moving to speak to his sibling at the Still Shore would likely cause... unneeded complications, as both the topic of their needed conversation and the rabid pack that defended her both made residence there.

So instead, the Gegenjis were set to meet at the airship cafe in Ul'dah. Already much quieter than the inane din that so frequented the Quicksand, Gogonji had made a point of finding a secluded spot away from even the meager collection of patrons. He had mused in retrospect that perhaps the cafe at the Toll might be better suited to the matter at hand, however it would also put the boy closer to the safety net of the family - ready to accept and baby him should he go running to them.

There would be no such escape here.

"U-um... I-I'm here ta meet someones," came the familiar childish tone to Gogonji's ears, and he was already set to wince for what he knew would follow next. "I-it's me brother."

So blase with information - the older brother noted with a distinct frown marring his features - drawing easily manipulated connections out for everyone to see. Gogonji had already been forced to deal with that John fellow and the ever-obnoxious Artemis using his real name instead of the one he presented to the public in every single one of their encounters. And that wasn't mentioning all the others who the boy had brought with him to the Castrum - they had his true name and a face to put it to. Fortunately, all of them had remained quiet while "Tmesis" started embedding himself into the intricacies of Ul'dahn noble circles. It was only that particular trio that continued to be the problem, which his younger sibling being the biggest offender.

It was no small wonder, then, that Gogonji's expression was less than kind when little Chachanji waddled his way over to his table - grimmer still than his usual dour expression. He nursed a cup of chamomile tea, hardly touched, as his younger brother clambered into the chair set adjacent to him. He took only the smallest sips as Chachan got himself settled in before speaking.

"You're late."

"A-ah, yeah, s-sorry, Go-nii," the younger sibling mumbled timidly, scratching at the fluffy mass of unkept emerald-hued hair that he had - for reasons beyong Gogonji's understanding - felt the need to highlight with a topping of ivory that made it look like he was forever returning from Coerthas' icy clime. "I-I was helpin' Ms. Momodi move some fruit crates from La Noscea, and..."

"I am in little mood for excuses, Chachanji."

"I-I ain't makin' excuses..." little Chachan countered, though he looked away and tapered off even as he said it. The boy had always been a terrible liar, a memory that threatened to melt Gogonji's stern expression as he mused on it. He was quick to strike it down, however. He had to remain firm, for Chachanji's sake.

"Whether it is an excuse or not, you are late," Gogonji restated neatly, taking another sip of his tea. "The juice I ordered for you has likely gotten quite warm now."

"A-ah, n-no! I-it's fine!" the youngest Gegenji asserted, taking a long sip of the obviously quite warm grape juice that had been left for him. He still did his best to at least look like he was enjoying the beverage, to his credit; even going so far as to flash a timid smile his brother's way as he finished. "S-see? I-it's good."

"... Very well," the elder brother relented, setting down his tea cup. "I assume you know why I called you here, yes?"

The stiffness that sharply entered the younger Lalafell's frame was proof enough that he did. It was not unlike the time the boy had snuck into Gogonji's bedroom for a late-night story, and had gone straight as board when he heard the sound of their father traversing the hall to use the restroom. The boy was like an alerted hare, ready to dart to its burrow at the first sign of danger. Gogon had chosen the location well, however - there was no such "burrow" within easy reach. And so he had little choice but to face the matter at hand.

"V-Virara?"

"Virara," Gogonji echoed, his tone heavy. "I have been... informed that you have been in contact with her, despite my wishes. I would like to know why. Now."

Chachanji fidgeted in his seat, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact with his brother. The violet orbs that they shared seemed eager to take in anything but the steady gaze of his elder sibling. Gogonji had half a mind to reach across the table and force the boy's attentions on him, but the furniture had been made for the use of much taller folk and thus made such options difficult. Instead, he settled for rapping the handle of his cane neatly against an upturned palm."

"Now, Chachanji."

"W-well, sh-she's me frand."

"Friend," Gogonji corrected without missing a beat, continuing on. "It is pronounced 'friend,' Chachanji, and no she is not."

"Y-yes she is!" the boy snapped back with a surprising amount of energy, though he recoiled after doing so. The elder brother's mustache drooped some, framing the deepening frown on his features. Again the handle of the cane tapped against his upturned palm, garnering a small wince from Chachanji.

"No, she is not," Gogon repeated firmly. "She is a wild beast that refuses to be tamed. Your attempts at 'friendship' with her have only resulted in you being hurt for your efforts. It was a mistake for me to task her with your protection."

"... Y-you what?"

"In return for aiding her in her aetheric imbalance, I bade her keep watch over you," the elder Gegenji explained matter-of-factually, leaning forward a bit as he did so. "To protect you while I recovered. It was a mistake. I am seeking to correct it."

"I... I dun need no 'protector,' Go-nii!" Chachanji objected, again with surprising fervor. "I-I'm th' one halpin' folks!"

"'Helping.'"

"That's what I said."

"No, it is not," Gogon corrected, again with his firm tone. "And you do. Look what happened: you sought to chase after her for Twelve knows whatever reason... and you ended up nearly breaking your legs in the process. Or did you so easily forget your time bedridden and forced to wear those braces?"

"N-no, I haven't..." the younger sibling admitted weakly, like the mewling of a couerl kitten. "B-but I-I talked it out wit Virara. Th-things are better now. I-it's akay."

"Is it?" the elder Gegenji child canted his head to one side, raising a brow. "She has not been punished at all for her selfish actions, has not suffered any loss for her blatant disregard for your wellbeing. Given your... unwavering willingness to 'forgive and forget,' how long until she uses you again to her own benefit?"

The cane clattered solidly on the tabletop as Gogonji leaned forward again, fingers wrapped tight around the shaft. While his tone had been relatively even, the intensity behind it had been quietly building as he spoke. The words that followed came out in halting spurts of thinly restrained displeasure.

"That. Is why I forbade you... from being near her," he stated neatly. "That. Is why... you cannot see her. That. Is why... you will obey me this time, and sever all future connection with her."

"N-no!"

"Yes."

"No!" the boy repeated emphatically, going so far as to slam his gloved hands against the tabletop, drawing the unwanted attention of the other patrons of cafe. And sending the remnants of Gogonji's drink sloshing about in the teacup, sending some spilling over the side to stain the wood dark. The elder brother was not happy with either.

"You will watch your tone, Chachanji, when we are in public."

"B-but..." little Chachan blubbered, the beginnings of tears forming at the edges of his eyes. "V-Virara's me frand! I... I dun want ta not see 'er no more..."

"She is no friend, Chachanji," Gogon corrected again, both the boy's horrible little mishmash of Eorzean accents as well as his statement on the matter. "We have already spoken on this. She will do naught but harm you, and since you will not keep away on your own, I will enforce it instead."

"B-but... I dun wanna!"

Gogonji made a face. The boy was being too childishly resistant, and his blubbering would only continue to cause a scene and draw unneeded attention. He settled back in his chair, seeking to both take the reins of the conversation again as well as quell the emotions in the air.

"It is... for the best, Chachanji," he explained to his sniffling sibling, eyes furtively flitting to the gazes still sent their way. He felt not unlike a parent with a screaming infant in the middle of a well-to-do restaurant. It was not pleasant. "There will be others, now stop acting so childish."

"No," Chachanji repeated again, eliciting a heavy sigh from his elder brother. "N-not until ya let me 'n Virara stay frands."

"Is this how it's going to be, then?" Gogonji snapped, frustration creeping into his tone again as he gesticulated with one hand. "You're, what, seventeen summers old now? Nearly eighteen? And here you are throwing a tantrum like an infant because you cannot get your way."

"I-I am not..."

"We are done with 'discussion,'" the older brother stated with finality, descending from his seat. He clacked his cane once neatly against the floorboards of the cafe. "Come along."

"W-where are we goin'?"

"Home. You will be staying with Annunu and I from now on. That Free Company of yours is obviously toxic for you, I should not have let you remain there - rabid protectors or no. Another mistake I seek to rectify."

"N-no!" the boy wailed again like a petulant child, drawing attention back upon them again. "I dun wanna! I wanna stay at Coralhaus!"

"It is the Still Shore, Chachanji, and its name is apt," Gogonji corrected for a third time. "It is a stagnant locale where only pests gather and breed - like a swarm of chigoes, seeking to feed off any foolish enough to remain near. A den of filth and disease, and wholly unsafe for the likes of you."

"I-it is not!" Chachan snapped, rubbing viciously at his reddened cheeks to drive away the tears. "C-Coralhaus is full'a nice peoples! L-like Ms. Jancis 'n Mr. Tau 'n Ms. Certia! Y-yer jus' mad because they wouldn't let yer grumpy butt in!"

"... What."

"Ya heard me." The younger Gegenji thrust an accusing finger in his older brother's direction. "Ya cause all these pro'lems fer ev'ryone 'n then yer upset 'cuz Coralhaus won't let ya in a'cuz'a it."

"I don't even know where to begin on correcting you on your multitude of errors," Gogonji sighed, shaking his head. "But we will have time enough back home. Come."

"No."

"I said come along, Chachanji."

"You can't make me."

"This is an order as both your older brother and heir to the Gegenji name."

"... Y-yer only one'a those, y'know..."

"What?" That statement got the elder brother to turn around and face his younger more fully. The boy was standing rather adamantly at his chair, having refused to budge as soon as he learned his brother's plan for him. Stubborn and unyielding, like their father. And that irked him.

"Y-ya may be me brother, Go-nii, but ya ain't heir no more. Didn't ya notice, or were ya too busy bein' a meanie?" Chachanji murmured as he lifted his messy jade bangs to reveal the gemstone affixed to his forehead. In Dunesfolk society, such a symbol usually was merely to display the moon of their birth. For the Gegenji family, however... "After ya ran away from home, Papa named me th' new heir ta th' name, s-so there."

It was as if Gogonji's legs were kicked out from under him, and he leaned more heavily on his cane. He wanted to deny it, refute it - his father wouldn't dare pass off his birthright so flippantly. Chachanji was a mere boy who liked to pretend to fight monsters with sticks and cried whenever his hammer managed to inevitably find his fingertips. He was no heir - it would be a bigger mistake than his stubborn clinging to the production of archaic weaponry. And yet, there was the sign of that exact thing being brazenly brandished - the mark that so neatly mirrored the one on his own brow.

"S-so I dun hafta listen ta anythin' ya say if'n I dun wanna, Go-nii!" Chachanji finished with a sort of twisted, childish pride. He stood proudly there for a moment, until he noticed the expression on his older brother's face. And then all his standoffish demeanor melted away. "G-Go-nii...?"

"H-he wouldn't... he couldn't..." Gogonji murmured as he clutched at his cane tightly with white-knuckled hands, the words repeating like a mantra as they bubbled forth from his lips. "Everything I did... everything I endured... was to show him... show him a better business. Then... then the razing... and I... I..."

"I-it's akay, Go-nii," his younger brother insisted, timidly approaching him, a gloved hand reaching out to him. "Y-yer still me older brother... th-there's still that, right?"

He moved without thinking, acted without even hesitating, lashing out at his younger brother with a swipe of his cane. Chachanji was quicker, though, hopping back just enough so that the length of wood and metal slashed only air. Combat training - the boy had undergone some manner of combat training. Of course, why else would he have been able to overcome Khamja along with his insufferable allies? What else had he missed?

It was if a haze had lifted from Gogonji's eyes as he took in the situation. The boy's strong frame - honed from cycles toiling at the forge, likely at their father's insistence after he had left to prove his business plan - was coiled back into a defensive position, in a pose not unlike one of the Sultana's own guard. The armored gauntlets and sabatons weren't store-bought but hand-crafted, in a style still familiar to the elder Gegenji child despite over a decade away from the forges. The hammer strapped to his back was also like their father's - capable of both crafting mighty weapons, and being used as one as well should the need arise.

This was Chachanji: the new heir to the Gegenji family. And Gogonji had attacked him. Even if he could have been accepted back into the fold with all the evidence he was collecting for his new information network, that was gone now. Father would never accept someone who would so willingly attack the family heir not once, but thrice. He would never be recognized now.

"G-Go-nii?"

The room was spinning, with sounds and colors either too muted or too loud. Voices that were both familiar and not pounded in his head, clawing at his mind. A fervent and careless Mhach researcher, an ancient Hellsguard as mighty as the mountains he lived in, an egotistical Ishgardian noble youth riding on the coat-tails of his family's legacy, and a whisper of a girl gifted with power greater than she could handle. Sights, sounds, memories, successes, failures, so many failures - it was all too much.

"Go-nii!"

The well-worn cafe floorboards came up quickly to meet the eldest Gegenji child, and then everything went black.

Chachanji Gegenji | Gogonji Gegenji | Judge Jredthys
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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#28
01-25-2016, 06:36 PM
Show Content
Preface
Wait, what? I have a thread? Who says?

This, by the way, takes place just before the article I posted an addendum to over in the Tonberry's Lantern section. The idea for this little story piece came a while after, and felt like it would work well with one of Gogon's overarching plots. Not entirely sure how well I presented it... and if skipping over a particular bit was okay or not... but I hope it's enjoyed nonetheless.

And, as always, the music:

[youtube]EsalBynBbFw[/youtube]

Musty.

If Gogonji had to describe this fetid heap of primitive housing he was being held prisoner in with a single word, it was musty. It fit all the definitions - it smelt heavily of mold and age, mostly due to the fact that the Sylphs had likely lashed together whatever plant-life had died naturally rather than go for the actually architecturally sound choice and prepare proper planks of wood. Its style, therefore, fell under the second definition - an obsolete, outdated, antiquated yurt that wasn't even properly waterproofed; a fact that aided its fulfillment of the first definition. Finally it was dull. Horrendously dull.

Not that he could complain overly much. To avoid implicating himself overly much in his little plan of vengeance, he had presented himself as a victim in the entire incident revolving the Garlean outpost nestled deep in the Twelveswood. He had willingly given himself up to be held captive until the Twin Adders arrived to question him so he could spin his plan into action. And carrying a research journal on Black Magic - even if it wasn't actually his - would have been quite the damning evidence for what he wanted to do.

And that was to see Restless Wind dead.

It was a flame of utter hatred that had filled his being for only one other entity - the Garleans. While that blaze had cooled with the calming fact that his family had survived the razing of Doma, it still flickered with an animosity for the nation that took away his own and stood postured to take over another if the Alliance didn't stop its internal bickering and posturing. This new second flame, however, with fresh and brilliant in its ferocity as the spark that had lit it was not even a sun old.

Not even a sun ago, Restless Wind had broken away from Gogonji's plan to extradite her sister from the compound by taking an oblivious Garlean officer hostage. Not even a sun ago, she had tortured him - an act he hadn't particularly minded considering his stance on that nation - until the officer revealed that her sister had been killed and he had taken some piece of jewelry from her corpse. Not even a sun ago, the Roegadyn woman had taken all she had learned from her research and brought it to bear on the outpost. Again, removing such a blight from Eorzean soil was not something he was overly against. However, there had been collateral damage that was inexcusable.

An had been inside, seeking to silently extract the woman's sister; a decision made to keep in line with Wind's fervent desire to avoid causing undo harm to her sibling. Something that - had the man been lying just to get her to stop, as torture victims are wont to do - she had completely ignored in her little Mhach-style showboating of power. He had sought to warn his fairer half once he realized the Roegadyn's target was the ceruleum depot, but all Gogonji had heard in response before the explosion ripped through the compound was An trying to call out his name.

To his credit, Wind's accomplice had a better head on his shoulders and sought to contain the explosion as best he could. And with that, Gogonji had thought perhaps An had survived and would make her way back to the meeting point. As bells past and still no response came from the linkpearl, he grew more anxious, more irritated, more angry. For all the while Wind nagged at him that they should escape, to abandon the rest of the plan due to her own phenomenally idiotic actions. Finally, he set a deadline for her - should An not show by the next bell, there would be consequences.

She feigned ignorance, of course, in there being any issue at all. Wind touted his actions as betrayal - seeking to double-cross her after she had rendered payment in the form of her notes and her gil. She blamed him for using An in his plan, offering her freely to the effort. She completely dismissed the fact that his mate would have not been in any undue harm if Wind hadn't utterly derailed the entire plan with her little stunt. All the added difficulty and danger had been added to the situation by her alone, and thus she was culpable for her actions no matter how she tried to feebly twist the situation.

The bell past, An did not show nor make as much of a crackle of static over the linkpearl. And that was when he finally admitted to the gnawing fear in his gut. She was dead. His mate, one of the few people he felt could understand him and truly connect with him... was gone. And this arrogant, self-absorbed harpy of a woman was responsible.

His rage boiled over into a sort of eerie calm at that moment, when he finally understood what had happened - it all seemed so simple. She had murdered An, so she had to die in turn. It wouldn't be too hard, he had concealed his hand to the populace at large for moons now, so she had no idea of his capability. And she was still recovering from her massive use of personal and local aether, so she was at an added disadvantage. Plus, he had Erwin on hand to neatly remove her head from her shoulders while he kept her magic locked down - further cementing his dominance in this encounter.

However, she proved to be a far more wily opponent than he had anticipated. He had counter-spelled her initial attempts to slumber him and his cohort, had interrupted her attempt to whisk herself away magically from the meeting point. However, she had managed to bring to bear one last sleep spell that he couldn't overpower with his own arcane might, and then immediately fled into the night through means unknown to him. Regardless of the method, she had managed to escape his divine retribution...

... Yet she had let him live.

He would make sure she'd suffer for that mistake. He had failed to overcome her in such favorable conditions, so he was certain he'd have far less luck with her both rested and on the defensive. So, instead, he would wield the entirety of Eorzea as a weapon against her instead. By revealing her and her actions to the media, he would feed their fear and paranoia until they fell upon her and tore her to pieces. She could escape two men, but how easily could she elude a continent? After all, even the Garleans would learn of her actions from this, and would also seek her hide as recompense.

Just recalling what she had done burned that flame within him brighter, a roaring inferno that crashed against his inner being like a caged animal. He remembered his all-too-brief lessons with another Hellsguard with some inane name, back when he had been collecting soul crystals for his ultimately futile effort against Garlemald. This level of rage should be one's Inner Beast - from what he remembered - yet there was something more to it. Something... foreign.

He took a deep breath, seeking to calm himself though meditation even as he took in a lungful of the stink of the Sylph yurt. Wind would be served the justice she deserved, as soon as the Adders got their inept hindquarters here and he gave them her and her associate's descriptions. He didn't want the boy dead quite so much, but he would likely lead them to her. He could not be overlooked as a resource, a piece in the plan that would be that woman's downfall. And fall she would.

Reaffirming that fact as a pseudo-mantra quelled his own flame somewhat, allowing him to better isolate the coals that stoked it so. Another sense of loss, a familiar one. A soul that had lost home, family, and ultimately life to an invading force. To a tribe of vicious and efficient Seekers, whose Nunh cared not for the damage he had caused to the ancient Hellsguard.

The Warrior.

He had felt its twinge before. It resonated most with him when he was on his warpath against Garlemald, a synergy that was closer even than that of his Nymian crystal. It was what had given him the majority of the physical power and ferocity he had brought to bear in the Castrum, and its rage had continued to burn wild after he had recognized his brother... and aided in the alien puppeteering he had suffered afterward. Its rage had long cooled over the course of his bed-rest, its violent seething lost in the chaos of the other fragments whirling about in his mind.

But now, with like feelings brought to the fore again, its ire and presence had been reawakened. Perhaps even during the bells-long wait for An's return, the Warrior had been urging him forward. To take Erwin's axe in his own hands and cleave Wind in twain for so brazenly and carelessly taking the life of his mate. He had not the physical might he had leeched from the crystals before, so he had tamped that desire down - along with the fear that An was actually dead. But now the two were aligned again in a way almost forgotten.

"Warrior," he spoke within his mind, opening the door to his sanctuary from the remaining swirl of fragments. "I believe we have much to discuss..."

When the door to the yurt finally opened again, the fractured streams of light that already spilled through the shoddy construction were further augmented by the cascade from the newly unbarred portal. The shapes that coalesced just beyond were blackish and murky, though Gogonji could tell some were flying and others were on foot. As the Lalafell's violet eyes cleared under the assault of additional light, so too did theirs adjusted to the gloom. The Sylph guards, and a small retinue of Adders.

His rage still broiled and seethed, but it was far more directed now. The caged inferno had been whipped into obedience, no longer thrashing about seeking release. An furious focus that would serve well in his arsenal, though the benefits were nowhere near at the level of a truly trained Warrior. No great feats of inhuman strength, no unstoppable juggernaut of flesh. Merely a sort of... parting gift from a fragment now returned to silence.

From one kindred spirit to another.

Chachanji Gegenji | Gogonji Gegenji | Judge Jredthys
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RE: Thaliak's Sisyphus [Story - OOC Welcome] |
#29
10-19-2016, 02:00 PM
He wasn't sure why he said it.

Well, to be more precise, he knew exactly why he had said it.

Gogonji and An - or more precise, "Tmesis Oan" and "Annunu" - had made a show of announcing the engagement of their front personas moons and moons ago, in a great spectacle out on the picturesque beaches of Costa del Sol. The event had even received attention from papers like the Tonberry's Lantern, giving the proposal even wider attention. And yet, there had been no visible advancement on that particular front since that bombastic announcement. The two certainly made their regular appearances together - from noble gatherings to competitions of mettle like the Runestone and the still-growing Spellguard - but the status of the relationship and its progression was left heretofore unspoken upon. So, when Sasha and her newly bonded mate questioned why the Lalafellin couple had yet to tie the knot, an answer had to be given before the gathered group.

Stating that the two would be wed was the most logical answer - there had been nothing to imply they were having any manner of difficulty in their relationship, and it would quash the few baseless rumors floating annoyingly about involving him supposedly "eyeing" other potential mates. As if any of the other mindless, brutish rabble could possibly grab his attentions in that way. Of course, he had presented Oan as a bit of a oblivious and friendly sort in defiance to his true nature, so even the smallest conversations with someone of the opposite gender could lead to such rumor-mongering. Gogonji was no stranger to misinformation - such was part and parcel of his profession - but he had a strange distaste for this particular bit of hearsay for reasons that eluded him, and quelling them would put the matter out of mind wholesale.

Setting it a season and a half away, wrapped up in some symbolic nonsense of Spring being a time of new beginnings, also had reason: time for planning. Setting it that far ahead allowed for all the specifics of the event to be ironed out. Required details like the venue, how much media attention should be focused on it, the outfits and colors to be worn, the food and entertainment to be provided, the guest list, it could all be considered. It would also provide enough time to manufacture some manner of fiasco that "broke up" Oan and Annunu, should it be required, but he found himself considering that a non-issue. And that sudden, illogical urging was part of the reason why the eldest Gegenji child was up at this late of an hour, staring down blankly at the tactical map of Eorzea set on his table.

Why was he so intent on having the wedding happen? It was not as if it put either them in a superior position to the one they were already in. In fact, manipulating the allure of drawing apart the engaged pair had been beneficial in a few information-gathering ventures. Mostly on Annunu's part, it seemed, as many gentlemen were eager to try to beat the dawdling Oan to claiming the Cherry Blossom Socialite's hand. Once wed, such tactics would be far less useful, though the blackmail potential of one seeking such infidelity could recoup some of those losses.

Perhaps it was the mystery of An's own stance on the matter that stymied him so and left him uncertain as to how to proceed. The lady Plainsfolk had be surprised by the declaration - which was unsurprising considering it had been rather spur-of-the-moment - but the rosy-cheeked silence that followed had left him wondering if she had been following his lead or reading deeper into the matter. She had not spoken on the announcement - either openly or privately - during the following Runestone either, where they had oft spoken quietly amongst themselves during the arcane clashes. There wasn't even a request to relocate to one of their favorite locations to speak on more sensitive matters.  She was the second part of this equation and yet she was an unknown variable still, and that vexed him.

There were other variables here as well. If they were to continue forward with the wedding, would it be solely for their personas, or would they be bonded in truth as well? The latter would serve only to weave another identifiable link between their fronts and their true selves, a dangerous move for someone in their line of work. And yet, rather than ensure that such a bonding was just between "Oan" and "Annunu" and leaving it at that, Gogonji kept finding himself thinking of other alternatives instead. He mused on having the master of ceremonies be someone neatly in his pocket or easily sworn to silence, or even having the "real" bonding occur on another date to distance the connection betwixt truth and fiction - while still seeking that the bonding be "true" in both.

Was this his id imposing itself again? As it had when Rosewater sought to "steal" Annunu from him, or when he had plotted vengeance when he had thought Restless Wind's actions had returned the Plainsfolk prematurely to the Lifestream? The former had resulted in the elimination of a Sultansworn black agent and a heightened alert for moons to follow. The latter had sown unnecessary seeds of discord, and it had only been due to his quick thinking and adaptability that he had been able to twist the situation back into his favor when it became clear the number of dangers inherent in having a powerful Black Mage as an enemy. Potential tools both lost due to his possessive id.

Or perhaps it was closer akin to the flares of possessiveness and anger that surfaced in situations like the mind-manipulating mage's attempts to weaponize her at the Runestone? Or when An herself mentioned the various individuals that sought to add her as another notch in their bedposts. His reactions to these were far more tempered than with the Paladin and the Black Mage, but still gave far too many a peek beneath the veil of misinformation he had so expertly draped about himself. Providing far too many hints that there was more behind the mask that was Tmesis Oan.

It was - as far as Gogonji could figure it - some manner of primal desire to claim her and make her his, and to figuratively bellow this claim from the rooftops so that all were made acutely aware of it. To chase away all the horn-dogs and brutes and savages that who dared to think they were worthy enough to have her hand or a place in her bed, and to firmly declare that to seek her was to go through him first.

The false bonding would be enough, his logical mind knew that. Just the belief that Annunu was wed would be enough to stay all but the most insistent - those who cared not for such vows - and such individuals could be controlled in other ways. And yet, on his desk lay a tome on auspicious dates to be wed - cracked open to the spring moons with annotations left by several possible suns. And speaking of suns, he had spent several running through the scenario of introduction her to his parents - and how to ensure that it was made clear that they would accept their relationship, whether they wanted to or not. And he had already done some delving into whom in his network could provide such a bonding and keep silent.

All things he had no logical need to do, and yet...

And yet...

Chachanji Gegenji | Gogonji Gegenji | Judge Jredthys
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