the_isle | Enter the lancer

Who: Foulques and anyone
When: A little while after the Good is the New Bad event
Where: Starting amid the Doomstones, eventually elsewhere probably
What: Foulques arrives on the Isle from the moment of his death.
Warnings: Dark thoughts, mentions of canon death, suicidal ideation

This was not Alder Springs. Unaware of the cliff edge behind him, he'd stepped back and then... falling. The adventurer, to her credit, had reached out for him, but too late. Too late. The last thing he saw was her face before the mist around the cliff obscured all, then suddenly, a bright flash of light... and a much gentler landing than he by rights should have had.

It was no longer mist, trees, and stony cliffs above him; instead he saw sky heavy with threatening storm clouds. The air had lost the faint chill of the spring breeze and instead hung heavy, humid, and still as the height of summer. But instead of the sweet, earthy smells typical of the Twelveswood at that time, it smelled not unlike a morbol had emptied its innards somewhere nearby.

Yet foul as the air smelled, Foulques couldn't help but take deep panted breaths of it. The exertions of battle combined with mortal terror had left him struggling to catch his breath. His heart felt as though it were simultaneously lodged in his throat and trying to forcibly hammer its way out of his chest. Could a person have two hearts? The mad thought drifted through his mind only to be swiftly banished by another; he should not be looking up at the threatening sky, breathing this foul air. He should be dead. Not even the sturdiest of Roegadyns would have survived such a fall.

And yet he lived. After a moment, he levered himself up into a sit despite his trebling arms, and got a better look at his surroundings. A litchyard of some kind, littered with refuse and absent any offerings. To one side, a large run down mausoleum. To the other, a wall of dark and forbidding thorns, greater than any the Bramble Patch had ever boasted; the only growing thing in sight. All else was hard ground and stonework done by those with no respect for their craft or the materials they worked. Numerous colors of clashing paint, one scrawl over lapping another to create a nonsensical jumble. A place more desolate and oppressive than even his cell in Gridania's dungeons had been.

...So that was it. It was the only explanation that made sense. He had indeed met his end at the bottom of that cliff, and this? This was to be his eternity. 'It's no more than you deserve,' his mind hissed at him. 'Coward. Weakling. You were bested by the Lord of the Bramble Patch, and now you've been bested by the very adventurer you claimed as you so-called pupil.'

He clenched his fists, trying to force that voice back behind the wall of certainty he'd built within himself. Certainty that only he knew the path to true courage. That his efforts had made him the one true master of the Lancer's art. That he would one day prove all this to that nest of cravens in the guild and see it shuttered and barred forever more. But that wall had been cracked after his defeat in the Bramble Patch, and now? Now it had been shattered completely by that woman. He had been defeated utterly, his surety exposed for the folly it was. And he had no defense against the pack of self-loathing thoughts that battered and tore at him like ravenous wolves.

'Fool of a man. Worthless waste of air. All your plotting and toil, your anguish, sweat and blood has come to naught. You thought you could change anything? Nay, even petty revenge is beyond you; your mad quest has left you broken on the rocks, hated and unmourned, where your body will be torn apart by wild beasts. Nightcrawler! Ashkin! You are everything they claimed of you and worse. It was always your destiny to be ground into the dirt and tossed aside on the midden heap. Your parents were so proud when you took up the lance, but how they would despise what their son became. Liar! Thief! Murderer! Madman! Craven from a house of cravens! Nay, an eternity of punishment in a stinking litchyard is too kind a fate for you!...'

The leather of his gauntlets creaked fainty, so tightly did he clench his fists. Why couldn't he make them stop trembling? He was caught, pulled taught between the impulse to laugh madly and the impulse to weep hysterically, but denied either form of release, and so just shaking, trembling in every limb. Mayhap.. mayhap if he could find his lance and fall on it in some way? Perhaps he could dissipate his aether properly and spare himself further torment. Unclenching his fists, he felt about him half blindly until his hand finally closed on his weapon's shaft... only the weight was all wrong.

This drew his gaze from its blank, horrified stare, and he saw that his weapon had been replaced with naught but a padded sparring pole. Ironically, the sight prompted enough indignation to break through the snarling and snapping thoughts, giving him something other than himself to focus his anger on. So this place was not content to merely torment him, it would mock hm as well? Treat him as though he was such a rank novice that he was not even fit to hold a real weapon? He snatched up its mockery of a lance and managed to get to his feet, trying to ignore how his limbs still trembled faintly. Whatever else awaited, this affront to his one remaining scrap of pride was one he would not allow to stand. There had to be some proper weapons- or some weaponsmith condemned as himself- in this gods-forsaken place, and he intended to find them. Mayhap he would even learn something about his eternal gaol in the bargain.

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She hadn't heard him until he got up. She had been hiding in the shadows among the doomstones. But when she head motion behind her she twisted and tried to look over without being seen. New person! She tensed, trying to figure out where she could run to. He had Link's ears, she noticed, but he was much taller, like Vexen tall. And scary. No question. Scary. She crouched back down, pulling her hood closer to her face, hoping to not be noticed.

One thing better about this place than the Train. Shadows. She'd still rather be back on the Train with Axel, Roxas, and Taiki however....

No such luck, Xion. Have spent years hunting and fighting dangerous creatures in a forest, one became alert to movements in the shadows. And now that he was less.... distracted, he couldn't fail to miss hers. "Who goes there?", he called out. "Show yourself!" The thought crossed his mind that it might not be a who but a what- such a place could be crawling with voidsent- and he was ill equipped to face them if that were true. But if it were one of his fellow condemned souls, mayhap they could offer some useful information.

She didn't whimper of course. Because that would be making noise. But she did press herself against the doomstone behind her, hoping he would think he had been mistaken and hadn't seen her at all.

Nothing. No, not quite nothing; another slight shift, as if of something or someone trying to hide themselves further. Unlikely to be a voidsent then; they were seldom subtle. And equally unlikely to be some manner of aggressive animal; they tended to attack when startled, in his experience, not retreat. So, prey animal or frightened person then, most likely.

"I know you are hiding there," he called out. There was less demand in his tone this time, in hopes that if this other was indeed a person, they would take it as a good sign. "And if you'll not show yourself willingly, I will find you. But either way, I would speak with you."

Edited Date: 2023-03-21 05:57 am (UTC)

For all he said he knew she was there, he didn't seem to know exactly where she was. Maybe she could still get away. She tried slipping silently along the doomstone, trying to get around it so she could dart to the next.

It had to work, right?

This would be so much easier with her powers. But they seemed to have faded with her return to this place.

Silence and stillness for a moment then... movement again, in the shadows. There they were. Even with his mockery of weapon, it was simplicity itself to execute a Piercing Talon, though not aimed directly at his quarry. Instead, he aimed it at the ground just ahead of them, hoping to either make them pause to avoid the new obstacle or trip. And in the next moment, he darted forward, catching the small form by the scruff.

His quarry proved to indeed be a person, if a rather small person, clad in a black, hooded coat that obscured all but a small portion of their face. For a moment at least. For the combination of how he caught her and her own motion pulled the hood down, revealing her to be a hyur girl- no more than 15 summers old, by his reckoning- with somewhat pale skin and short, black hair. He was struck by an unexpected pang at the sight; what could a child like her have done to warrant not just death, but eternal punishment?

Edited Date: 2023-03-23 12:24 am (UTC)

She cried out as he grabbed her and started to struggle. But when her hood fell she stilled in panic for a moment before grabbing the hood to pull it back up.

"Let me go!" she tried to sound strong and scary and tough. Instead her voice was quiet and broke in the middle.

What did he want from her?!

Unfortunately for Xion, there was little hope of her breaking his grip, especially with her poor leverage. "Cease your squirming, girl!", he said. Then, with a less irritated tone, "You only waste both our time and your energy by struggling so. I do not intend to harm you; I only require information, as I would have told you, had you simply come out willingly rather than skulking about in the shadows."

"But this is a rather poor way to converse. If you will provide me with the information I seek- and promise not to flee before the conversation is ended to my satisfaction- I will release you. Agreed?"

"Just let me go..." she pleaded. She was not going to promise not to run away. She couldn't make that promise. She knew herself well enough to know that much, at least. "A...ask a Somebody!" she managed to add, still struggling.

'A' somebody? Odd choice of wording, but he'd encountered stranger speech patterns. "That's precisely what I am doing," Foulques said dryly. "Despite your best efforts to avoid giving a reasonable response."

"I'm not a somebody," she gasped, still trying to pull free.

"In what way are you not?", he asked, clearly exasperated. To say he was not in the mood to deal with children seemingly speaking in riddles was a vast understatement. "You're solid, so you're certainly no shade. And you can speak, however reluctantly, so you're no beast. In every respect that matters, you are 'a somebody'. A somebody who is trying my already sorely taxed patience with her ridiculous attempts to avoid a simple conversation."

"I have questions for you, girl, and since you seem incapable of speaking plainly or civilly, only when you've answered them to my satisfaction will I let you go, struggle though you may. Do you understand?"

She could have explained, she'd ben explaining it ever since she first reunited with Axel in Diatu. But she didn't want to explain it to him. He scared her more than most people and she didn't want to give him more ways to hurt her. She wished she had hr Keyblade, then she could have fought her way free. Instead she tried to kick him as best she could. Of course all the training was on fighting foes in front of her... but she had to try. She was terrified to let him fight her into being like she was with Xemnas again. Blinging to someone again just because she was too afraid to disobey.

But she was terrified that that was exactly what was about to happen....

Given his armor and her poor angle, the kick had little effect, save to add fuel to his rising anger. "By the Twelve, you squirming little shroud hare, are you so determined to arouse my ire?", he said. "Simply answer my questions and you will be free to do as you please! I do not understand why you seem unable to grasp and to act on this simple concept! Why do you continue your futile struggles?"

"Let me go!" she gasped again. "I don't belong to you!" If... if she let him order her around... how long before he ordered her to hurt Axel? Or someone else? Or do something else scary. She was trembling as she fought, afraid. Weakening.

She was going to belong to someone again...

But what if he used owning her to make Axel his too...?

She had to keep trying to fight, she had to protect Axel.

But... she was so scared...

At that claim, his anger was dulled somewhat by plain old confusion. "I never claimed to own you, girl," he said. "Nor would I wish to, if this is any example of how you normally behave." He really had no idea how she'd gotten any such idea to begin with.

Though perhaps his grip on her collar was hindering her from doing the very thing he wanted of her. Replacing his mockery of lance on his back, he reached down with his now free hand and caught hold of the nearer of her flailing arms, making sure his grip was secure before releasing her collar.

"You're trying to tell me what to do like you do..." she snapped, still trying to pull free, trying so hard to hold onto that fight, because it was so close to leaving her.

"I require information, and I've seen no one else about who could provide," he pointed out, exasperated. "And your response to requests and bargaining has been to hide, flee, or struggle. Had you you responded sensibly, I would need not be so forceful, but you continue try and squirm away even now. I am not about to let what may be my only company in this gods-forsaken gaol vanish into the dark."

"I don't know all of those words! Can't you just ask someone else?!" she asked, shaking worse.

"Then clearly your education has been lacking," he said. "As, apparently, is your hearing. I see no one else to ask. Do you, girl?"

"Did you even look inside? Or just come out here to attack me?" she snapped. But she was shaking now more than fighting. She was running out of strength to fight.

"Generally those you find in mausoleums aren't especially talkative," he said dryly. "And in any case, I've not yet had the time. I am newly come to this place; I arrived mere moments ago, unless time flows strangely in places of eternal torment."

She... she really didn't know what he was talking about. And it broke the last of her resistance. She went limp, tears running down her face.

Without her magic she couldn't protect herself. How was she ever supposed to protect her friends?

Is there some sort of argument happening? Emporio swears he heard some faint shouting, but the trouble is, he can't hear it clear enough. And whoever is shouting soon loses volume as well- which makes it even harder.

The boy has been feeling fairly lost since coming back from Auradon. The knowledge that his Stand is still with him is...well. Unsettling, given that he can't do anything with that here. Still. There's not a lot to do here other than search for things to try and better survive, and it's on such a search that he ends up coming upon the pair he in fact did hear arguing.

Kind of.

For all that it could be called an argument.

He sees-

Xion, limply slouched, no doubt crying as well.

He sees-

A freaking giant that man's huge what the heck he's taller than Dr. Kujo was???

He-

Emporio swallows, suddenly feeling a bit cold somehow. He's dressed in rags that much more suit the place around them, ironically not unlike a younger version of the doctor he compared this man to in his mind, and those present would be forgiven for completely missing Emporio as a result. When he speaks though, it'll no doubt be impossible to do that for longer.

"...What.... ...What's going on here..?"

Her head came up, fear rushing through her. Sh tried again to pull hr arm free. "Emarprio! Run!" she gasped. She couldn't save herself, but maybe... maybe he could still escape?

Was she going to be used to capture him too? Why did she have to be so weak?

Under other circumstances, he likely would have rolled his eyes at the girl's warning. One would think he'd done far worse than simply scruff her like the disobedient youngster she clearly was. But current circumstances didn't lend themselves to such flippancy.

Not the least of which because the once she was warning was another child, a hyur boy dressed like a ragged urchin, and even younger than the girl herself; he couldn't be more than twelve summers old if he was any judge. Finding one child in such a place was a surprise, but two? The gods could be cruel indeed, it seemed. A fact which he knew all too well.

Still he opted to ignore the girl's protestations for now, as he turned his attention to the boy, whose name, apparently, was Emporio. At least he seemed willing to talk. "I've not harmed her, if that's what you fear," he said. "Nor do I wish to, despite how much she's tried what little patience I currently have. I simply required information, and she seems to be unwilling to carry on a normal conversation without being half dragged, and has left me with doubts as to whether she's even capable of such. Her vocabulary seems sorely lacking."

"But that doesn't seem to be the case with you. So then... Emporio, was it?... mayhap you can tell me to which of the Seven Hells we've been condemned?"

Emporio...does not run.

This isn't exactly a danger situation. The man before him looks intimidating sure, but he doesn't feel dangerous.

And he knows dangerous.

It's a good thing that 'seven hells' is a human term too, though. "I'm more confused right nowo if anything..." And, maybe just to be safe-

He looks to Xion quickly. "I don't think he's dangerous- let me talk to him, okay?" That. Should convince her a little right? Hopefully?

Well. Frowning a little at the man's bluntness, he tries to avoid addressing it and focuses on what matters. "...It's another world- for all of us. This place is called the 'Isle of Lost'; it's...one part prison, one part isolated country?" It's honestly a little hard to describe.

But more importantly- "...This area isn't supposed to be as isolated as it is though. Everyone here is trapped."

Foulques frowned, but it was more thoughtful than angry. The boy seemed reasonable at least, even if what he was saying made little sense. "Another world?", he repeated. Another world, but not the afterlife it seemed. Which he supposed could be counted as a good thing, as it meant he yet lived, though how remained a mystery. "How is this possible? And is there some reason we've been trapped here?"

She didn't know why he wanted to talk, she just wanted to get away. But for now she was staying very very still, hoping she would be forgotten so she could slip away.

Hoping... to be forgotten....?

That was... an uncomfortable thought.

Still, she wanted to get away so she can think about that...

Emporio keeps glancing back at her to make sure she's okay so....there's no chance of being forgotten here.

As it is. "We don't know- even the people trapped here don't have an answer to that. Right now, we're just doing our best to figure out how to survive with the resources available here. Especially since the entire island dampens 'magic'. No one who could use it before, can use it here."

Honestly Foulques probably would have forgotten the girl, had she not been so small that he had to bend significantly to keep his hold on her. As it seemed the boy was a far more willing source of information, however, he let go of her coat and straightened up, making it even move obvious how much he towered over the youngsters.

"It's fortunate for me then that I chose to take up the lance rather than a spell book," he said. Whether the place also prevented the more subtle channeling of aether that was incorporated into most Eorzian martial arts remained to be seen, and was something to be tested later. "Even if in bringing me here my weapon has been replaced by this ridiculous mockery." He indicated the padded sparring pole now slung across his back.

"And to speak of it, are there any weaponsmiths or merchants trapped here with us? I would like to remedy that situation if possible, and with a proper spear, I might be of aid in hunting or fishing."

AS soon as she was free, she bolted to stand behind Emporio, ready to jump in front of him to defned him if she had to.

Somehow.

But for talking? She'd hide behind him. No shame, she didn't even know what shame was....

Ahhh...well. If she'll take it, he's offering a hand to hold at least. Just for some extra reassurance.

As for Foulques, uh. Hoo. The boy looks over at the sparring pole, a brow raised at the sight. "...Part of that is a problem in itself," he explains. "There's no real source of water here other than the plumbing- we've made filters to make the water drinkable, but that's still not something we can fish from. As for hunting, we haven't seen any animals here either; apparently this was a school- maybe someone has those kinds of skills, but it isn't likely. ...For that matter, the people who originally resided here won't be likely to do anything for free; the island was intended to be a prison, but they're...really weird about upholding that reputation for the most part," Emporio remarks, grimacing.

"Other than one person, they literally teach classes to..." Ugh. He hates this, but, with a wince that says he knows exactly how childish it sounds. "To be 'evil'."

Everything is a mockery, go figure.

Foulques raised an eyebrow at that. "Classes on how to be evil?", he said. "What possible benefit could be gained from such a thing? True a parent or mentor is often wont to pass on their own views and values to their charges, for good or ill, but to have an entire school dedicated to promoting villainy? I would say in beggared belief if not for what else I've just learned."

She didn't take the hand, but sh stayed close, and listened. Axel wanted her to go to classes in Diatu, but she was pretty sure he would be glad she wasn't going to these classes, right? Right?

She shook her head. forcing herself to focus in case they were attacked.

It's....a big old shrug from Emporio. A shrug and a persisting wince. "Honestly I'm still pretty surprised by it; there's not really any winning debates with the teachers who stand by it either...I don't recommend trying, it's a pretty huge waste of energy."

"Arguing with fools generally is," he replied. "And they certainly seem to be such by your description."

Shifting the subject to a potentially more productive topic, he continued, "You said this was an island and a prison. What, if anything, do you know of the world outside it?"

"That isn't wrong, that's for sure..."

Ah. But the outside. "I can actually answer that- for a little while, we were...switched? A section of the 'outside' region is locked off in a way similar to this one; they're doing better because of the state of the land there though. It's...really idealistic though. Think 'inverse' of the ideals here; everything was focused on...pristine 'goodness'."

Emporio wrinkles his nose. "It was a little uncomfortable...but magic could be accessible there."

That... was where she had found Axel's room... right? And Smoke?

She glanced up at Emporio, wanting verification, but as she was behind him....

Foulques frowned. "So... a land of pristine peace and relative plenty for those deemed 'good' enough to be worthy of it, and a stinking prison for those seen as 'evil'," he said. "Or perhaps, simply not 'good' enough for whatever reason. One wonders how each person's destination was originally decided." Given the bitterness in his tone, he clearly doesn't think the answer is 'fairly and justly'.

"And what of the two of you? You both seem over young to have done aught to warrant such a fate as this. Though the presence of a school indicates that the incarceration of children in in this place is no new thing."

"Supposedly they'd opened up a bridge between both places...but that's about when this area of the 'Isles', and the opposing area in the mainlands became fenced in. Getting here in our case wasn't incarceration though, that much we're pretty sure. Actually," Emporio adds helpfully, "There's a single staff member here who came from the mainland for the purposes of helping people across; he's just as trapped as the rest of us now."

Her shoulders shrunk in. She was well aware of all the bad things she had done, and that she was selfish by fighting to not go home, back to Sora. By wanting to exist when everything depended on a different her. One that had never been here, or in Diatu, or on the Train.

She shuddered slightly. They had been trying to find a way to save this version of her... but it had never happened. So she knew she should be punished. She knew.... Maybe she did belong here. Maybe trying to escape was just doing more that was bad. But... she had to get to Axel. She had to...

Shaking, her gloved hands curled into small fists.

"So an attempt was made to reunite the two lands, but was thwarted when the briars appeared, trapping all here," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered. "One wonders if their appearance was deliberate then; some magic employed by one who didn't wish to see the status quo altered." The timing seemed a bit too convenient, but he had no real means of proving it one way or another. And in any case certain other details he'd learned didn't quite fit. "Who is this mad from the mainland? It sounds as if it might be good to make his acquaintance, if only as a means to gaining more complete knowledge of this world."

He noticed the girl seeming to shrink in on herself, gloved hands clenched into small fists at here sides. What had he said to prompt such a thing? If anything one would think she would be relieved to hear he didn't think her a criminal.