paradis | ＳＯＲＤＲＥＡＣＨ

ＳＯＲＤＲＥＡＣＨ

"Chatterclock" - Dave Strider (When equipped, add Chatterclock's stats as a bonus to the wielder's.) HP: -- ATK: ☆☆☆ DEF: ☆ SPD: ☆☆☆☆☆ MGC: ☆☆☆ RES: ☆☆ MP: 100 ACTIVE SKILLS: (All of Chatterclock's offensive spells require the blade to make contact with the enemy at least once before implementation.) Clockstopper: Halts one enemy for a short time, MP 8 Clockstopper II: Halts all enemies for a short time, MP 16 Accelerate: Increases speed of wielder for a short time, MP 8 Accelerate II: Increases speed of wielder for a longer time, MP 12 Memento Mori: What he used against the Hellbull, MP 36 Counterclock: [NOT YET UNLOCKED, effect unknown], MP 80 PASSIVE SKILLS: Auto-target Danger sense Diagnostics Yu Narukami HP: 223 ATK: ☆☆☆☆ DEF: ☆☆☆ SPD: ☆☆ MGC: ☆☆ RES: ☆☆☆ MP: 75 ACTIVE SKILLS: Ziodye: Deals heavy Elec damage to 1 foe, MP 12 Mazionga: Deals medium Elec damage to all foes, MP 16 Garula: Deals medium Wind damage to 1 foe, MP 8 Bufula: Deals medium Ice damage to 1 foe, MP 8 Agilao: Deals medium Fire damage to 1 foe, MP 8 Diarama: Moderately restores 1 ally's HP, MP 6 Marakukaja: Increases Defense for 3 turns (party), MP 24 Tetrakarn: Barrier that reflects phys dmg once, MP 36 PASSIVE SKILLS: Resist Elec Endure

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ These labyrinths are old. You can feel their age when you breathe, bone dust and stale air coating your throat and lungs. The shallowest levels are well known, their paths so well worn by so many feet that the stones are shiny-smooth and no longer have any grip. Novice adventurers just starting out always tend to slip and fall on the sharper turns. It’s difficult to find a path no one’s trodden before. A few levels down the stones and paths feel old and rough again, but they’ve still been mapped by a thousand hands, seen by a thousand eyes. It’s rare to find a place that no one’s been.

This ages-old familiarity is why Yu comes down here alone today. The team all agreed they’d try never to come into the labyrinth alone unless they had to, because even if they all know it as well as they know each other’s faces, it’s still fraught with dangers and traps and strange beasts and magics, and one false move can spell death, or worse. Yet here he is by himself on level four, deeper than anyone should ever adventure alone, much less at his age. It’s mercifully a quick trip when you’re as experienced in the labyrinth as he is. There’s shortcuts you can take, a trapdoor in level one that drops you straight down to level two and a secret stairway in level two that cuts you through to level three, and then if you keep your head down and sprint you can get from level three to level four without drawing too much attention, and besides, he’s doing this for the team. They’re low on funds, and Kuma needs new armor badly after a skirmish last week left his gear in tatters. They’re all nervous about it, Yu most of all. If he takes down just one beast for its pelt or brings back just one jewel they should have enough to purchase what they need from the metal works. If the team questions him on where the extra money came from, he’ll say he just miscounted what they had. It’ll be alright.

They need this.

They have to have this.

There isn’t any time to waste.

They’ve all grown with the legends of the war. Its rage still scars the fields outside of town, massive gashes in the grasses where greenery never regrew. Blood, too, soaked that ground, salting it with the indelible hatred of men. Even though it’s been generations since then and historical accounts have passed into stories have passed into legends, there’s one thing about which all the people are certain: there was a War, and it was truly terrible. And now there are whispers of another one brewing, especially as the winters grow harder and resources start to thin. More people than ever from both sides of the Divide are starting to go back into the labyrinth, to try their luck and their fortune … or to discover just what it was that put an end to the war so long ago. To find the source of the darkest legends of all, the ones that parents use to scare their children into being good.

Go to bed, now, or the labyrinth beasts will get you!

Legend said they’d spirited away men first one by one, then two by two, then dozen by dozen until the armies were decimated. Creatures far beyond the caliber of ordinary labyrinth monsters, the ones humans farmed for their pelts and jewels. The hunters became the hunted, and stories of the labyrinth beasts ranged wildly in nature and description because no one who saw them ever came back. Soon the war could not continue simply because there weren’t enough men left to fight it, and an uneasy truce was called between the two sides, a mutual defeat forced by the might of a greater foe. The labyrinth hadn’t been enough to bring true peace between the warring factions, just quiet and a willingness to abide, but these days, it seemed like that willingness was slowly ebbing away.

Yu’s parents were always busy, always working themselves to the bone as prominent members of the town’s council, and a result, he saw little of them. He was proud of their work, but it also made him intimately familiar with just how bad the problem was actually getting. He knew how much tensions were rising, and sometimes even traveled with his parents outside of town on their trips to neighboring towns on their side of the Divide for conferences. No one ever said it explicitly, but these were essentially war preparation meetings, and they made Yu’s blood run cold. Much as his parents didn’t want to say it, their efforts to stop any movements towards war were failing, and the more he came to understand that, the less they seemed to take him with them. As a result, and because of his age and the fact that they wanted him to finish out his studies, and Yu spent most of his time living with his uncle and young cousin instead.

He’d had to sneak out past both of them this morning to get into the labyrinth. Dojima and Nanako each presented a unique challenge, in that Dojima was always attuned to him sneaking out (“I don’t want you getting involved in this,” he’d say, with that grim look in his eye), and Nanako was a just a very early riser who’d want to know where her big brother was going. But with great care and on silent feet Yu had managed to slip out of the house successfully undetected and get out of town without being caught, a minor miracle unto itself. That he managed to then make it all the way down to level four of the labyrinth without any further issue made him start thinking today was going to be a pretty great day after all.

And right now, Yu Narukami is walking down a pathway he’s traversed a few times before, his hands kept free thanks to the sword strapped to his back. He hasn’t let his friends go below level four yet, even though they discovered the entrance to level five a couple of weeks ago. He doesn’t think they’re ready for level five yet; with their current combat skills and the gear they’ve found, they’re still just barely managing the monsters on this floor. If they go down any further, they could run the risk of very serious harm or even getting killed. Time is of the essence, but they won’t be any good to anyone if they’re dead. So this route is familiar to him, and he lets his fingers trail over the rough-hewn wall as he walks. The corridor is lit, like all the labyrinth, with an unnatural sourceless glow no adventurer or labyrinth scholar has ever been able to place. Some ageless magic, supplemented here and there by pockets of slowly pulsating luminescent crystal nestled into the walls.

It’s been quiet, so far. Almost too quiet. He’s been avoiding any stronger monsters he sees, looking for one he knows he can take out solo that will also give him a pelt or jewel he can sell for the right amount of funds he needs. Balancing those factors is proving to be a time-consuming challenge. Somewhat aimlessly, he turns into a long-since plundered treasure room, a little lost in his thoughts as he mentally runs through lists of each of his friends’ gear and needed repairs.

He should have been paying more attention, really. This is why you don’t go into the labyrinths alone. When he steps onto a part of the floor that gives, in a way he’s never felt before, all he has time to do is draw in a soft breath as his eyes go a little wide before the floor simply disappears beneath him.

These labyrinths are old. In some places, they’re structurally weak. Seasoned adventurers know these spots by heart and avoid them carefully. But if you’re not watching where you’re going, you could end up falling right through the floor, likely to your death.

That’s how Yu ends up plummeting not just one, but two levels down, all the way to level six. When he wakes up from his daze, he realizes he survived because he fell onto something - a bed of roots and vines, the foundation of something huge and ancient that just happens to seep into this room. Whatever this room is. Slowly, aching, and with what he quickly realizes is a very badly sprained ankle, Yu limps his way towards the center of this strange, huge, echoing space, where there’s a small raised dais… and a chest. A closed chest.

Level six is deep, it’s true. But it’s not that deep. To find a closed chest here… something not yet plundered… how? Did his fall take him into a hidden room?

Painfully, and with a hiss, Yu manages to stumble up onto the dais. But his ungainly movements make him trip over a dusty, old, abandoned sword just laying there on the ground beside the chest, and the sharp, clattering noise makes Yu pause, started. What’s a sword doing just sitting here? ]

[To say he's slept doesn't quite hit the mark. He's gone quiet, soul-still, as much a part of the labyrinth as stone and shadow. What he's really done is give up...something. Some essential core of consciousness that makes him more than steel.

He hasn't slept. He surrendered the thing that could be awake.

His non-dreams of darkness and dust shatter, however, all of the sudden, when something connects with his hilt and jostles him against the stone. Automatically, without thinking of how to speak, he says:]

Ow.

[Ow. What? What is ow? What does it mean? The ring of steel hangs in the undisturbed air, and he wonders, bewildered for a second, what caused it, and then wonders again, more alive:

What am I, doing the wondering?

The air isn't undisturbed, he realizes suddenly, long-unused mind coming into clearer and sharper focus. Something happened. Someone, after all this time--someone is here.

He clears his throat, though he doesn't need to, not having a real throat to clear. He coughs a couple times for good measure, just to check. He can see his visitor in the labyrinth light, strange and a stranger.]

...Hey? Uh...'sup.

Edited 2015-12-23 00:59 (UTC)

[ A thrill of tension and quiet fear races up Yu's spine when a voice - from nowhere, from nothing, from the sword? - rings out, making his whole body go stiff with ready tension. He couldn't run right now if he wanted, but he still has the sword on his back if he needs it.

He tries not to think about his chances of survival down here, alone on the sixth floor.

The ... sword? clears its throat, and Yu finds himself going more tense than ever. It feels not a little like he could snap in a hundred places if someone so much as brushed their fingers across his shoulders. Carefully, carefully, he stands there, his weight resting on his good ankle so as to keep him from needing to lean and give away his weakness. Even if his strength is only a front right now, sometimes a strong front can keep you alive. His face is a mask of impassivity. ]

... hey.

[ This is ... weirdly casual. Who talks like this? ]

... what are you?

[ Yu doesn't come any closer, but he doesn't move away, either. Then again, he couldn't do those things quickly even if he wanted. ]

[Somehow, lacking lungs or a mouth or any kind of means to make noise, the sword releases a little huff.]

I'm fine, man, thanks for asking. Some weather we're having today, huh? Raining goddamn mannerless randos down on us unsuspecting citizens and shit.

[It's too early for these existential questions, he just woke up. The answers are too hazy and distant, slipping through his fingers, and--fingers? That doesn't make any sense for him to think...

While his inner monologue tries weakly to find its bearings, his outer monologue just keeps right on trucking.]

Pretty sure I'm what most folks call a sword. Swwwwoooorrrdddd. [The blade doesn't move, but somehow it manages to catch the light a little more, offer a sarcastic little glint.] Sorta figured you'd be familiar with the concept, what with you having your own and all, but if you're that new to the business maybe you shouldn't be down here? Just a thought.

[Where even is "down here?" Where is he? Who...no, whoever this guy is, he was right. The first question really is what.

Still, rude as hell for that to be the first thing out of the dude's mouth.]

Better ask for a refresher on manners, too, while you're getting the basic weapons tutorial, all tripping over someone and not even apologizing. Hell.

[ Listens to this whole rant in silence... ]

[ So Yu just kind of stares the whole time Dave is rambling on, blinking occasionally and not otherwise reacting. So the ... uh, definitely a sword? can see that he's got a sword of his own on his back. It can ... see? The voice sounds male, but that doesn't really tell him anything. How can it see him? How can it hear him?

He is just kind of having a hard time believing this is only a sword.

Well, obviously it's not just a sword? It talks!

Yu finally sighs heavily, realizing he's going to give himself a headache like this. ]

Sorry, [ he murmurs contritely. Carefully, deciding that this sword probably isn't going to leap up and decapitate him (given that it wasn't able to get away from him in the first place), Yu very gingerly lowers himself down to sit, sticking his injured ankle out in front of him. A small hiss is his only concession to the pain of doing so, but it's better once he's off it entirely. ]

It's not an excuse, but I hurt myself during my fall down here. I wasn't too steady on my feet on the way over. I'll avoid it in the future, though. [ Said with a fleeting ghost of a smile. ] Are you alright?

[Oh. Well, now he just kind of feels like an ass.]

Yeah. Like I said, I'm fine. Built a lot less breakable than you, apparently.

[He has an impulse to sit up, to shift closer so he can see, but he has literally no way to do that. He is a sword. He does not have hands, or legs, or movable parts. Where are these random instincts coming from?

Ugh, it just feels creepy thinking about it. He shakes it off. Mentally. Since he can't do anything physically, at all.]

Is it your leg? Bring anything to wrap it up with, or, you know. Speed up the process? You're in pretty deep...

[And it's not like he can help. He is a sword.

All he can really do is be sharp and generally awesome, which is great and all, but not entirely pertinent to this situation.]

[ Yu unbuckles his sword's sheath from around his chest, setting his weapon off to his other side so he can lean back on his hands. Briefly he directs his attention to the hole in the ceiling where he came from - it's difficult to see, shadowed over in the corner of the room, but it's there.

A glance around also tells him one more interesting thing: at least visibly, this room has no doors.

Great.

He looks down at his chattery new sword companion again, wondering if he should find it stranger than he is that he's talking to a sword. It is... pretty weird? But somehow it doesn't feel weird. It feels natural, almost normal. Maybe it has something to do with the way this ... thing? sword? boy? wow, he's got to find out this sword's name - is talking. Casual and friendly, like nothing at all is amiss.

Yu huffs, a sound that isn't quite a laugh. ]

You seem pretty tough.

[ There's a lightness in his voice, but it's hard to tell if he's joking or giving a genuine compliment.

Quietly, he considers the question. The truth is, he's in very deep trouble, and he knows it. His healing magic could probably let him walk more easily, but he wouldn't be able to heal a sprain this bad on his own. His ankle is screaming and burning like he broke it. That he can put weight on it at all suggests he didn't, but he certainly can't walk normally this way, much less do the kind of running he'll need to do in order to make the surface safely. He hasn't been down this deep before. Maps exist for the first ten floors, but they get sketchier one you hit floor six. Floor six is where the average adult adventurer will stop. Only the most skilled, the most powerful, and the most seasoned have managed to make it all the way down to level ten. This floor is way, way above his level of skill.

Plus, he doesn't personally know this floor. He's looked at the maps - they all have - but he doesn't have it memorized. He can't just put his head down and sprint out of here, even if he could run.

Worst of all, his fall wasn't quiet. If this room really doesn't have any doors, that probably buys them some time, but they will be found eventually.

The moment he woke up and realized he'd fallen two floors he knew he was probably going to die down here. The result of his own carelessness, his idiotic belief that he could ever go in here alone and be safe.

What will his friends say when they discover their fearless leader has disappeared, and isn't returning? What will his uncle and Nanako think? How will his parents feel?

All of this he thinks and none of it he voices. What he does is tilt his face towards the sword and smile, the same reassuring, confident smile he'd give his friends in times of crisis. ]

I have some supplies, and some magic. It won't be enough to fix my ankle completely, but it'll help. Then we can see about getting out of here.

[ Yu starts rifling through the various little pouches and pockets, pulling out his physical medical supplies, which really isn't much. Ahh, taking his boot off is going to truly hurt...

Curiously, he glances at the sword again, his eyes sweeping up and down its length thoughtfully. ]

That is, if you want to come with me?

[ He shouldn't assume. He doesn't know why the sword is here, after all. ]

[The ice-chill that washes through him is instant and terrible. No. Don't leave him alone down here in the dark again. Never, never, he can't remember the last time someone smiled at him, can't remember a voice that isn't his own.

But he's got to play it cool.]

Eh. I can pencil it into my schedule, I guess. You know, somewhere between the gathering dust and rusting like a piece of shit.

[It's odd, but there really isn't anything obviously magical about the sword, just looking at it, beyond the blade's oddly mint condition beneath the dust. There are no ghostly images moving under the surface of the steel, no mysterious glow to speak of. He's just a high-quality, well-forged longsword with a subtle clockwork pattern worked into the hilt and guard.

So, of course, the sword doesn't shudder, even if the spirit might.]

I'm not actually rusting, am I? Fuck. Shit, do you have a mirror, this is a matter of international importance, I gotta know if I'm still in the running for this century's beauty pageant. Especially if you're taking me somewhere.

[TELL HIM HE'S PRETTY.]

...Are you taking me somewhere with, you know. People? As in, multiple?

[ Yu continues to look at him for a moment more, then simply bobs his head in a nod. ]

I'm not sure if you'll fit, but I can swap you into my scabbard and carry my regular sword.

[ It's at this point Yu lets out a slow, deliberate breath and carefully picks up his ankle in both hands. Shifting one hand to grip his calf above the lip of his boot, he takes hold of his heel with the other.

In one smooth motion he yanks the boot off, his expression contorting as a pained, choked grunt escapes from between his clenched teeth. But that's all; after that he lets out a few heavy, almost-panting breaths but is otherwise calm and does not show the pain. Focusing on calming his breathing, he sets his injured ankle carefully across his other leg and sets the boot aside so he can get to work. He's got a numbing cream, a special favor from the apothecary in town in return for some rare items the team managed to bring back; that will dull the pain, if not fix the injury. Once that's on and his ankle is wrapped with what bandages he has on him, he'll start on the healing spell.

He keeps talking, though his eyes stay on his ankle now. ]

You look great. [ Honestly. ] I didn't notice any imperfections or anything.

[ He does pause to consider the sword's questions, casting him a thoughtful look out of the corner of his eye before returning to his careful work. ]

Well, I live with my uncle and cousin. I also normally have an adventuring party, though... I didn't bring them with me this time.

[ Said low, sounding a bit ashamed. ]

Is that a problem?

[People. Oh, happy day.]

Nah. No problem.

[He'll get to see people again. Get to hear words, watch motions, do anything but wait endlessly in the deep dark, in a doorless room with no way in, nothing to keep him company but...nothing, basically.

He's almost giddy with his desperation to get out of there. Voicing that would sound insane, though, so he's not gonna. He just has retrograde amnesia and is a talking sword. That's perfectly normal.]

You're kind of a dumbass for not taking them with you, though. Who comes this far in without a spotter? There's lichs and shit, you can't take those on on your lonesome with an earth-forged blade like that, that's practically dead weight down here. I mean, no offense. I'm sure it's a perfectly nice sword for all that.

[He says it the way a smartphone might talk about the old corded phones of the eighties--pitying, condescending, a little weirded out. That could have been me, etc.]

...But seriously, you might have more luck down here using me? And like, I'm not just saying that so you don't stuff me in your scabbard and ignore me the whole time. Armies've gotten wiped out down here, you know? And it looks like your ankle's fucked up pretty good...

[If this guy dies, he'll be stuck down here alone again, right? That would suck for everybody.]

'S not like I'd mind.

[ That wins a surprised huff of a laugh, Yu glancing over at the sword again as he finishes securing his bandages and starts putting his supplies away again. He's ... funny. (Even if he's calling Yu a dumbass. He deserves it.) And insightful. Yu can't deny anything he's said, being painfully aware of how pitiful his chances are for getting out of here in one piece instead of sliced to ribbons by monster claws. Or poisoned, or eaten, or all three.

He looks at his companion(?) for a long moment, considering. ]

I didn't want to just assume I could use you. I thought I should at least ask your permission. If you're sure you wouldn't mind ... then you're probably right. [ He manages a smile again, faint and crooked. ] I'll fare better with you than my normal sword.

[ Yu takes a moment to mentally catalogue his magic, settling on his healing spell. But before he casts it, he asks: ]

Do you have a name?

[ He can't just keep thinking "the sword." It feels much too impersonal. ]

[When an otherwise inanimate object suddenly stops talking, it can change the whole atmosphere of the room. The sword's silence is absolute, and there are no small movements to give away that he's still there, that he's still breathing. It's just Yu, and the room, and the sword.

But he does, in the end, finally speak up.]

I don't remember.

[Saying it kind of hollows him out. Makes him aware of how much of himself is blank. Empty caverns.

The knowledge is there, somewhere, he thinks, but he can't reach it. Isn't sure that he wants to. Treading too far in that backwards-facing, introspective direction makes him feel shaky and clammy, neither of which are possible, as a hunk of metal. Shrug it off.]

So, I guess not really. Not much of a name if even I won't answer to it.

[With almost palpable effort, he changes the subject around.]

How about you? I can't keep calling you "dude." Unless that's your name, in which case, condolences.

[ During that extended moment, Yu is actually concerned that somehow who or whatever the sword is - maybe something that inhabits it? - has left. Did he somehow just imagine all that? Has be just been deliriously babbling to an inanimate object this whole time--

And then the sword speaks, and Yu pulls in a sharp, silent breath. He doesn't recognize how relieved that made him feel until the timbre of the sword's voice actually strikes him.

Get it together, Yu. ]

... it's alright, [ he murmurs soothingly. ] We'll come up with something I can call you. [ He dips his head, smiling again, bracing, reassuring. ]

My name is Yu. Yu Narukami. Though you can call me dude, if you want.

[ Here is where he takes a moment to concentrate. One of his hands circles his bandaged ankle, and white light flares from between his fingers like he's got them cupped around a lightbulb. It's brief and bright and gone just as fast; once it's done, Yu sucks in a breath and releases a long sigh. Very gently, he starts shifting around to pull his boot back on. This time, if it hurts, he gives no sign, though the observant would notice the cords of his neck standing out while he does it. ]

That'll have to do.

[ He buckles his scabbard to his chest again, then reaches out to pick up the sword as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

What surprises him the most is not the intricate, barely-visible inlay of clockwork carvings in the hilt, or the unnaturally bright shine of a blade that has to have been here for an unfathomably long time.

It's that the grip feels warm. Not hot, not uncomfortable, just warm.

Suddenly he is powerfully reminded that this sword is itself, somehow, a living thing. Not that he'd disbelieved in the sword; it was just that somehow the lively, sarcastic, lilting voice (he can't place the accent) had somehow felt divorced from the actual blade. But now he knows they're one and the same.

Yu grips the hilt solidly, wondering distantly what that must feel like for the sword. ]

Edited (how did i not notice i did that) 2016-10-04 04:17 (UTC)

[Feels weird as anything, to be perfectly honest.

A little electric shiver buzzes up his spine--up the tang of his blade?--when Yu's hand closes around the grip. It's weird, he doesn't know the guy, he can't remember the last time he--the last--he can't remember anything, and the unfamiliar warmth is startling for a second and then

it feels right.

He's a sword. This is what he was made for. And he knows, instantly, that Yu is someone who knows how to use a blade, who has experience with the Labyrinth; it's in the way he stands, the way he holds himself, the confidence and calluses he carries. Recognizing that, he lets himself relax into his wielder's hand, gets into that frame of mind that'll let him, as any weapon should, act as an extension of Yu's arm.

It's not a bond like if they'd formed a Pact, and he's not threaded into Yu's magic like he ought to be, but it'll work out. He's sure.]

All right, Boss Dude. It's good enough for government work.

[He can tell, the way Yu's distributing his weight, how his ankle must still be bothering him. One lone warrior with a magic sword, this deep in the labyrinth? They've got to get off this floor, stat. Then they can figure out what to do from there.]

Did you fall in through the ceiling? Shit. [Hard to tell whether he's sympathetic, impressed, dismayed, or all three.] Hope you at least remember what side of the maze you were on so we don't have to wander around like dinguses.

[If he closes his eyes--well, it's not like he has eyes to close. If he concentrates, if he can get into the right frame of mind, he can sense, generally, where they are in the maze: where the closest stairs might be, what threats might lurk around the corner. He's been here so long.

Oh, wait. Before they go...]

How about that chest? Did you scope the goods yet?

[If they're lucky, maybe there's a bomb spell or something inside. Or a bomb. Or something to knock out one of these walls, what with that caved-in, root-cemented roadblock where the way to the corridor ought to be.]

[ It's a strange, calming, settling feeling, gripping the sword. Yu stares down at his own hand in small wonder, quiet while he soaks in the feeling -- and everything the sword is saying, of course. He doesn't really seem to stop talking, a strangely well-balanced counterpoint to Yu's own tendency to be fairly quiet in conversations.

All of this feels strangely well-balanced. Like the sword was meant to fit in his hand. Yu is suddenly brimming over with the feeling that he could take on almost anything, with this sword.

Of course, the keyword is almost. His ankle throbs as he moves, and while he thinks he could run if he absolutely had to, he'd run the significant risk of hurting his ankle much worse, perhaps even breaking it. Still, a broken ankle is better than being dead. They'll figure out something.

Still holding the sword up, he nods at the sword's first question, knowing it will - somehow - be able to see, and then lowers the blade as he looks over at the chest. ]

I remember. As long as we can find stairs back up, I can get us out of here.

[ He and his friends have spent the better part of three years working their way down through the labyrinth floors. They're young, but they're getting stronger every day, and few in town know the first four floors better than they do.

Still, he wishes Rise were here. Her innate sense of navigation - a power not quite like everyone else's, and extraordinarily useful - would be a huge relief to have, right now.

With only a slight limp, he makes his way over to the chest and places a hand on the old wood. It's solid, somehow still intact after however many centuries it's been in here. Carefully, Yu tries the lid.

It doesn't budge.

Yu sighs quietly. It's been a long time since he's even seen a chest key. They're rare items, for the most obvious reason that they are so rarely needed anymore. He can melt the lock with a spell, but it's one more piece of magic that he won't have to use on the way back up.

Is the trade-off worth it? ]

What do you think? [ He lifts the sword again and looks at it, the same way he'd address any regular person. ] I can open it with a spell. Should I give it a try?

[No, the sword never really does shut up. Then again, if he did, it'd be like he wasn't there, with only the living warmth in Yu's hand to inform anyone of his existence.]

Mmm...I dunno. Might be a Mimic, too.

[In places like the Labyrinth, where magic runs untamed and unshaped by human hands, things have a way of growing quite out of hand. Objects twisting into forms impossible in nature, nature transforming into creatures quite unnatural.

Sort of like strange talking swords.

But no Labyrinth monster--on record, anyway--has language, and the sword doesn't emanate the ominous killing aura of something that would enjoy a tasty Yu-sized snack. It's almost like he's human, really.

So that's one thing they've got going for them right now.]

Probably better to get out of here fast and come back with your posse later. I've been here long enough I should be able to find my way back to this spot once I get my bearings.

[Somewhere close, on the other side of the wall, something monstrous stirs. Someone has touched its treasure.

It paws at the ground and snorts.]

Oh, hey. Do you know if it's night or day right now? It's dumb down here, but the lichs keep a pretty regular schedule.

Edited 2016-10-04 23:34 (UTC)

[ Yu considers their options for a moment - his state, the chest, what magic he has at his disposal - and nods again, turning away from the chest. The sword's advice is sound and he knows it for the wisdom that it is.

He's starting to hobble off the dias and towards the nearest wall - intending to look for anything like a secret door, which he does now exist (though he's never found one himself) - when something prickles at his senses. He freezes, his grip on the sword tightening as he lowers his chin.

... what was that, just now? ]

Chatterclock.

[ ... apparently, this is the sword's name now. There's a note of warning in Yu's quiet voice. ]

I don't think we're alone.

[ He knows in his bones that nothing on this level is anything he can fight. Especially not alone and hurt. Even with his full team at their full capabilities, they'd struggle against even a single monster on this floor. Some of them would probably die.

All Yu can do is run. And he can't leave Chatterclock here. Not alone. He wants to leave, he wants to be wielded... Yu can't abandon him.

It makes his chest squeeze, thinking about how horrifying and lonely it would be, to get stuck down here again next to the dead body of the person who said they'd take you to the surface.

Carefully, Yu shifts his weight, getting ready to run even as his eyes sweep the walls for any other way out he could have somehow missed. ]

Edited 2016-10-04 23:46 (UTC)

[Chatterclock? Is that some kind of incantation? He starts to ask, but then he senses it, too: the chill of encroaching danger.]

Shit. Hold still for a second.

[He tries to make it out against the background of Yu's pulse, against the little movements every living person makes. The weight of hoof against stone sends vibrations through these numbingly familiar walls, let him guess at number, at position.

He's nervous. If he had a heart, it'd be beating against his ribs with a sharp rhythm, a battle cry. Yu isn't in good enough condition to fight, and there's nowhere for him to run, either. He never had to pay much attention when he was just lying on the floor, gathering dust. He has someone to protect again.

(who did he protect before?)]

Think there's just one. Heavy. Not a lich, at least.

[It must be daytime. There's a chance they'll survive. That is, if they...

WHAM! The Hellbull rams into the wall hard enough for stone to crack and powder, though it doesn't break yet. It roars its dissatisfaction and gallops back down the corridor so it can run up for a second shot.

No time to overthink it.]

Hey, Yu. How open are you to batfuck insane suggestions from a magic sword you just met?

[ Yu spits a curse under his breath when the thing rams into the wall, making it crack with a sound like a gunshot and explode with ancient dust. The sound of hooves galloping away is clear as the ring of bells, now. Clear, and tolling for an ill fate.

Yu adjusts his grip and shoots Chatterclock a sharp look. ]

If it gets both of us out of here? Very.

[ Does it really matter if it's insane? Without a plan, he'll die here, and Chatterclock will be abandoned. Alive but crazy is better than just plain dead, and alone. ]

Edited 2016-10-05 01:00 (UTC)

['Good enough for government work.']

A'ight. Yu Narukami, let us be in accord.

[The formality lifts some unseen seal away, and the sword burns brightly, gold and red and painless, in Yu's hand before dimming to an acceptable glow. He doesn't even leave an afterimage.]

I'm gonna give you access to my magic. Don't worry about which spells to use when, I'll take care of that for now, just trust me and fight like you normally would, okay? I won't let you get hurt.

[There's no nervousness in that promise, just belief and fact. He's sharp, now, focused, and a true, straight blade. Whatever's on the other side of that wall, he can take it.]

If you're game, agree, and we'll have us a Pact.

[ A gasp catches in Yu's chest when Chatterclock bursts into light, a sudden sun glowing warmth and strength in the middle of this gloomy, dark labyrinth room. There's no real heat, no pain; but Yu could swear he feels that light settle into his veins, setting his blood glittering with new power.

It's like nothing he's ever felt before.

Chatterclock says with a steadiness and self-assurance he finds startlingly familiar that he won't let Yu get hurt, and Yu believes him without question.

Slowly, but with confidence, he repeats: ]

Chatterclock, let us be in accord.

[ His blood stirs again. He'd shiver if he didn't feel overwarm.

The charging of hooves returns, rapidly growing louder and closer, and Yu grips Chatterclock's hilt in both hands. At the same time he starts to pace towards the wall, to get himself out of the way of whatever is about to break into the room, to give himself the space to run. He's putting his trust in this sword, putting his life on that faith, but even so, they'll both be better off if he can just get out of here. ]

[He did ask Yu to trust him, but when the reply comes back...

God, it feels so good to be believed in. To be of one mind. The glow flares and tightens, pouring into the clockwork inlays and then racing up the blade in the same geartooth patterns, moving across the steel.

Hang on.]

Wait, you named me Chatterclock? Haha, dude, what.

[But he's pleased, so pleased, and the laughter's in his voice as the Pact goes live. For an instant, they get to share one suspended moment--one heartbeat, shared, in which red-gold pre-dawn light meets the first blazing line of white--before the Hellbull smashes through the wall with a terrible bellow.

Chatterclock's joy dims not at all as he locks the Pact in, settling his own magic so it won't interfere with Yu's, but bolster it, work to the same beat. Easy as breathing, he sketches a gear-toothed circle around the Hellbull as it shakes its head, snorts, casts around for its prey.

Yu's a calm, steady light. It's natural to move into place beside him, shoulder to shoulder, so he can protect and serve. This is what he was made to do.

The Hellbull lowers its horns and gets ready to charge, and there's nothing to fear.]

We can one-shot this, easy. Aim up under the throat.

It fits, doesn't it?

[ Words murmured distantly as the Pact rushes through and transforms them both. Not outwardly, no; they're still just a boy and a sword. But inwardly the surge of the connection almost threatens to overwhelm Yu, someone who is not so used to this kind of power, or even to the intensity of the emotions associated with it. Being the jack-of-all-trades has always been his signature; he's good at everything he's ever tried to do, more or less, but exceptional power has never been his forte. He's not a specialist.

So this, this sensation, power and light and joy and finding himself perfectly in sync with another,

it makes him feel alive.

The circle that now appears in his vision makes him laugh out loud, something he wouldn't normally do, but he feels Chatterclock's joy and exhilaration as his own. He feeds back into their connection his total self-assurance, his fierceness and fire and the swaggering confidence that sometimes overtakes him in battle. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't, at times, a thrill for him.

Some deep down piece of him feels like another person is really there. Not a sword, but a boy. Like him.

But it's not something he can focus on, and his attention is on the Hellbull. He doesn't reply, even through what is now their mental link. Instead there's only a surge of certainty as Yu darts forward. He can't feel the pain in his ankle and knows that he's definitely injuring it worse, but it's too easy to ignore right now. His body moves automatically, fluidly, and Chatterclock flickers like a flash in his hands. When the blade connects, there's a burst of fire, Yu's own magic expressing itself through the very metal of the blade. Together, they slash it wide open. ]

OPENING (cries laughing please murder me silly)

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hey asher what's up how you doing

HI PIP HI PIP HI I AM LIKE YOUR NEOPET WHO WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

1/3

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WEEPS LAUGHING ASHER ARE YOU OKAY also why is dave like this

I'd blame parents except he hasn't got 'em

NOT ANYMORE HA HA HA HA wow

Woooooowwwwwwwwww. Low blow.

8( YOU STARTED IT!

I WAS JUST QUOTING ALADDIN SONGS

does dave wanna be where the people are

Yu's pretty much telling him "be our guest"

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