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The Memories becomes a set of wings (Joint RP between John and Khyran)


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John push the door open, glancing around the inside of the house before moving farther inside. Anyone that saw him, would notice the pack on his back, and a lid box in his hand. A box that if those that knew how to do so, would be able to tell was heavily warded. "Khy," he call out. "Are you busy?" He wince as a stabbing pain rack the inside of his head. That didn't feel right at all and he swallow wondering if maybe Salacea might be gaining a foothold in his head.

 

Khyran was seated at his desk, bent over paperwork, when he heard the door open. "I'm not busy at all, please come in, John." He put down what he was doing and regarded the man with a concerned look. "Are you ready?"

 

John sigh in relief. "Yes and no," he said, sitting the box down on the desk. "So far, the memories have been...not quiet but still." He reach up, wincing as he rub his forehead, "Until a few minutes ago. I'm worried she's getting a foothold and what you might face in those memories."

 

Khyran considered for a moment, picking up a roll of moko grass and lighting it between his crooked teeth. He drew in a deep draw and blew out the smoke slowly. "Would you like a cigar?" He asked. "Helps calm the nerves, at least for me."

 

He sat for a moment in silence, then turned to face the man more fully, his expression calm. "Delving into the minds of the suffering, corrupt and possessed has been my sole purpose for over six years. I have seen things that keep me awake at night, weeping in my dreams, until I can weep no longer. I am... hardened, John. There is nothing more that I can see that will shake me. So please, do not concern for me. I am, however, concerned for you. I do not wish to waste any more time."

 

He leaned back in his chair a bit, bony fingers folding over his chest. "Your dreaming ability is similar to mine, so I feel no need to ask you if you're prepared for this. It may cause you pain, and it may leave you very weak. Are you ready for that?"

 

He offer his friend a worry smile. "I figure as much." he said, unslinging the pack from his back. "Couple days worth of clothes, a couple of medical books, and this..." he said, knocking his knuckles against the box. "I let Warren and the others know that I might be gone for a couple of days and where to find me, if they can't reach me by Pearl." He rub the back of his neck. "So, um, I'll apologizes now, in case Howl come in wanting to know if I'm ok." He move over to a chair, sitting in it before leaning his head back, rubbing at the growing pain.

 

"I just can't help but worry." He look at Khyran with concern and there might be a darkness along the edge of his eyes. "I know what she's done and what she made others do. Please, just be careful."

 

"It's alright. If anyone comes for you, I will inform them that you will be here. You can stay in my office if you want, now that Nazyl is out of the bed, or we can move into the Medica infirmary. You'll be out in public more that way, however, and that can be seen as both a blessing or a curse depending on what you want." He started to stand from his desk. "I recommend you stay here. People coming and going and trying to talk to you all the time may just hurt your head." He walked over beside John and said, "your concerns are duly noted. But, again..." He patted the man on the shoulder. "Have a little faith in me, aye?"

 

John reach up, placing his hand over Khyran's own. "I have faith, in you. I'll try to help where I can." he said. His hand tighten as another blast of pain before he let go and grip the arm of the chair. "Thi...think you better..."

 

He led John over to the spare room, where he would bid him to lie down, wordlessly gesturing to it. "I will place my hand upon your head, and you will fall asleep. When that happens, your Dreaming will take over, I do believe. I will then be able to access your memories and whatever manner of monster resides there. With luck, I can exorcise it."

 

John drop onto the bed, nodding as he did so. He waited for a moment before stretching out on the bed. "I...if you need to..." he said. "Throw me...into Medical after..." he said, giving a pain smile to Khyran. He closed his eyes and work on steadying his breathing. "Ok, do it now." he whisper.

 

Khyran did not hesitate, or show any sign of uncertainty as his bony fingers dropped onto the man's head, brushing away his hair so that his fingertips could press into flesh.

 

He would feel something like a strange, spreading warmth- a tingling in his scalp. The more he tried to pay attention to it, the more drowsy he would become... until he was plunged into the darkness of dreams. He was within his own mind, yet he would feel a stranger here- an observer that didn't quite belong. If his mind could constitute it, he would picture an ink-black vulture flying gracefully in the distance.

 

John for his part was kind of blink, for a moment fighting the sleep then just letting it take him. He fell, fear raising up as he thought that the reverse happen and his dreaming had ended up placing him in Khyran's memories. It took a moment for him to remember that he had his gloves still on. He force his body to turn, landing and rolling a bit before coming up to his feet. His hand reach for Kit's book and then move to the two daggers in his boots. To Khyran, John would look younger, just entering his teens before the form shift to look like his own self. He blink again, taking in the form of the large bird, black as night, almost hawk like to his mind and not like the vulture that Khy might think he is. He looks around finding Ul'dah's back streets, a small form, very young and looking sort of like John, and an older hyur boy that was aguring with each other. He knew this scene. "This...this is to far back. We need to move up in the memories." he said, not sure if Khyran could here him in this realm. The soon they move, the less he had to relive that moment. Was this Salacea way to by herself time?

 

The vulture swept down until he was flying over John's head, circling. "It is your mind, my friend. Lead me to what I must help you remove, and I will dig my talons into it. Otherwise, I have no power over what memories come to the surface. You are the guide, I am merely your passenger."

 

"Ok..." he said. His hand move, almost as if it was searching before it closed on something and he pull. A darken room, fever heavy in the air. His younger self, lying sick in bed, even as a dark hair elezen lean over 'him' more like a vulture then the one that flew over his head. He could hear Fabrellet's words even now, whisper about how the elements saw him as a curse. And there was his red hair sister, looking like she was ready to beat the healer's head in before she vanish from the room. He slam the door closed. "Not that one....think," he mutter before stepping forward in a random direction. He pass through the link black night, and then far, far in the distance, the faint sound of singing but there wasn't a pull to it. But he knew this memory and he move forward. Maybe if they were closer.

 

The vulture's form remained impassive, existing there, rather than intruding. It observed and waited, its bright red eyes passing from one person to the next. It made no comment on what it saw as it followed John deeper. "...If it helps. Focus your mind and body on the pain. Force yourself to recall what has recently caused you duress. You may pull repressed memories, or you may guide us closer to our source."

 

'Repressed......memories.' At that thought, the scene change and it was John's room, part of it closed in, a door with a red crystal in a holder next to it. "Kit, I have to do this...I just hope that Pick can forgive me. The others can't know." He sat cross legged, eyes closed, and for a moment, the scene change, a black hair hyur lad with blood dripping from his daggers, 'I can' do it...skin looka more red within all 'he blood.' the lad seem to whisper. 'John' rush forward, even as the lad look like he was going to throw himself in the water. 'John' hand closed on the shoulder and he found himself drowning in someone else memories. It would seem hours...days before the John before him and Khyran recover enough to set the plan into motion. He try to stop the memory, not wanting Khyran to see this. Wasn't it bad enough that Connor found out. Yet he couldn't stop it, almost as if someone else was controling it. He watch himself dye his hair black, finding the fabric to make the puff hat to hid is ears, and the pair of hyur pant to hide his tail. Khyran would realize that the hyur looking out from the mirror was the same one that had been in the back, at his and Fab's trial.

 

A female voice, sickly sweet voice seem to speak around them. "That's right...you had to help, sweet little boy." The voice seem to reach into him pulling at the loneliness. "You couldn't go yourself. Why your parents would have been so angry if they knew you were helping a wanted man." She laugh. "And what would they think, knowing that you were the one that said..."

 

"Stop...stop..." he said, clutching his head. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it."

 

This memory gave the vulture pause. As he observed it, his wings beat a little slower, until he circled to the ground. Emotion was difficult to read on the face of an animal, and the vulture's own emotions remained as impassive as ever, save for the slight droop of its wings. It was impossible to tell what he was really thinking, but he sat and watched the memory all the same.

 

"They won't believe you." the voice said. "Such a weak little boy but I'll take you in. All you have to do is..." it stop speaking then singing began. Aching and pulling at John in promise to make it stop

 

The scene shifted, the court room, Khyran and Fab. John in the back speaking with the guard. 'I want to be here to support but I can't. If 'they' knew, my family could lose everything...' His Lisma heavily, sounding like a local come to watch a good show. John was on his knees, still clutching his head. "I didn't want to hurt them...everything I said."

 

The woman laugh again. "Then you are such a fool. Why keep fighting? You're protector isn't here anymore. The little one may have forgiven you but he is weak, just like those 'friends'. But, you even weaker then them..."

 

The vulture hopped up next to John, tilting its expressionless face. "This is your mind, John. You are only what you believe you are. I see a young child in you, but you can become a rock- a lion- a dragon." He said. "Shake off the shackles of your guilt. Become a greater beast and come with me to fight this master of lies." The vulture preened a wing. "I hold no animosity towards you. You did what you had to. You are no less a friend of mine. Now- let me hear you roar!"

 

"Don't...don't..." John murmurr. "DON'T EVER CALL CONNOR AND KHYRAN WEAK!" he scream, as something looking like a blond hair seeker flash out from John, fist smashing into the memory to reveal the serpent like form of the Siren behind the memory.

 

"You," she hiss, claws racking into the figure. John scream as the image/memories of Howl's shatter. He scream again...no, shriek like an eagle. 'Eagles have always be a symbol of protection,' Shun's voice whisper. 'Given time and need, every Eagle finds the wings to fly.' He shriek again even as he took to the sky, before diving to rack talons across sickly flesh of the siren.

 

Though the bird was without expression, with the way it spread its wings and lifted its head, it looked proud. And if its beak could smile, it would be beaming- for its heart swelled with a great joy for John as he took to his own wings. With that, the vulture joined the pursuit, the scavenger going right for the Siren's eyes with practiced precision. In the real world, John may feel a strange, biting sort of pain in his forehead as Khyran began the attempt of siphoning the Siren out of his head, trying to capture it in the form of materia. His success, however, would largely be determined by how hard John fights to free himself of the siren's grasp.

 

John cry out, in this dream realm and the real as her tail caught in the side, as he try to turn to make another pass. He hit the ground, stun, even as the siren scream in pain as her eyes were damage. Claw hands rack out blindly at Khyran, hoping to try and catch the one that was taking her prey from her. John shook himself, struggling to get back on his feet and back into the air. He began to think, trying to form a plan. Height, he needed height. Taking to his wings, he flew away and up from the pair, glancing back to judge. Was this far enough, was he high enough to do this? His talon feet open and closed as he ease back, before allowing his wings to close and drop like a feather cover arrow, aiming for the back of Salacea's neck.

 

His beak whipped down to pluck an eye from the socket of the siren's skull. As its clawed hands came out to meet him and he flew away. Its claws caught against his tailfeathers and ripped them free, but the vulture made no sound. He flew around and around its head, tauntingly, distracting it as John moved in for the kill. An eyeball dangled in the vulture's beak.

 

In the real world, it seemed Khyran was slowly succeeding to pull the siren from John's head- but his own energy was beginning to weaken, and his knees quaked with the simple effort of standing. If John could finish off the siren, he could pull it the rest of the way out- but everything hinged on this moment.

 

Claws feet came out, using the moment that Khyran gave him to ready for the kill. He shriek, his only warning as he drop like a metor, claws sinking deep into her neck, and snapping the bones from the force. That same force sent the 'dying' Siren and John into the ground, throwing John, his talons taking chucks of flesh from the body. A claw hand reach out, catching the left wing before John's eagle form tumble away. He laid there, watching Khyran's own form circle above the body and himself, then the body shatter, the memories began to move up to Khyran's form. Then he felt Kit's light, shining near him.

 

In the real world, John's left arm began to bleed out a black slime, sliding down onto the bed before the wound began to bleed red blood. Kit's book at his hip glow, the light seeming to dry it up before it vanish into nothing. John's back arch and he cried out in pain as the materia of the siren's memories was pull from him, then John didn't know anything more, falling into dreamless sleep.

 

With one final pull, the materia coalesced into Khyran's hand, pulling painfully through John's head. With that, the vulture flew away, taking to the sky and calling as he left: "Eagles are hope, and life, and strength. Live unshackled, and carry no regret."

 

And in the real world, Khyran took that materia with him swiftly. He drew a silver lockbox from the bedside table, undoing the combinations and pressing the materia inside. The box was swiftly locked once more, encased in a vault of pure silver. When this was done, Khyran was breathless and shaking, his energy spent and his body aching. But John was his concern. He checked his vitals, ensuring the man was not weakening. As he returned to his senses, the stupor of the dreamworld wearing away, he did not notice the black slime that Kit had expelled.

 

Khyran sank into a chair nearby, and resolved to sit and wait for John to regain consciousness. He would not move, and he would not fall asleep. The man remained ever vigilant.

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