[SQUALL] && all the right M O V E S

[Lightning Farron]

Lightning scowled as she strode into the arena, trying her damnedest to beat down the feeling of familiarity rising within her. Why, in every single damn place she went to, and with every single damn person she met, did she get this inane feeling that she had been there or met that person before? It was driving her nuts, and whenever Light felt that she was going completely bonkers... well, she turned to the only consistent thing in her life.

Her gunblade.

The sleek weapon hardly needed more sharpening, but that didn't stop her from sitting on the circular platform in the center of the Cradle, pulling her gunblade out and manipulating it into its sword form in a single fluid motion. She examined the Blazefire Saber with a critical gaze, frowned slightly, and pulled a whetstone out from the red pouch strapped to her thigh. There were easier ways to sharpen the blade, but she preferred the traditional method; it was slower, yes, but if you did it properly, you couldn't find a sharper edge anywhere.

As she ran the stone along the edge of her blade, she wondered why this place in particular sent an uncomfortable shiver up her spine. It felt... important, in a way, like she had done something unspeakably tremendous in this very spot.

The only problem with that, though... she'd swear on her life that she'd never been here before.

Lightning let out a heavy sigh and set down the whetstone, instead rubbing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. What she wouldn't give for the sweet clarity she had when she had first been summoned... she hated grey areas even more than she hated not knowing things. She either remembered or she didn't; Light despised the flaky middle ground that fate seemed to love throwing her into, and she'd do anything she could to climb out of it, regardless of whether she ended up in the black or white area.

This war... it was mind-boggling. Half the time she thought she was going crazy, and the other half of the time she was fraternizing with the enemy, or so it seemed. She wasn't even sure of what she was supposed to do or where she was supposed to go; all she knew was that she had to take down a Goddess who had multitudes of warriors defending her. Logic and her mind told her that she should take out the warriors one by one then launch a group attack on Cosmos, but her traitorous heart kept whispering nonsense about fighting her allies, her... friends.

But they weren't her friends. The Warriors of Cosmos were her enemies, and there was nothing she could do about it.

When prayers turn to promises, not even fate can stand in their way.

A brief flash of a dark-haired woman in a blue sari popped into her head, much like how the image of the slate-haired teenager had appeared when she was talking to Raine. Like then as well, a voice accompanied the image, and a name; as soon as she thought it, though, it was gone. Tooth? Teeth? She knew it was something like that, but she just couldn't remember.

Lightning sighed and picked the whetstone up again, bouncing it in her gloved palm. Whoever the woman was, her words had put one thing into perspective for her, at least; it didn't matter who she was fighting, only that she won. If she won, she got to go home, and she could save her sister. She had promised herself that much, at least.

I'll tear down the sky if it'll save her.

Not just the sky, though. She'd rip this entire damn world into shreds just to see the girl again.

Everything Lightning did, she did for Serah.

[Squall Leonhart]

Words couldn't even describe how he was feeling now, as the lone lion began to stalk the savannah for his prey. Words weren't even needed. He had dismounted from the Prima Vista having surveyed the corners of the new earth he had been summoned to, now certain of which direction he had to go. This place however, was foreign and alien to him. Moving platforms, crumbling archways, all floating within what seemed to be an endless underground tunnel complex of ebons, ivories and magneta. The savannah was as obsolete as the unknown prey he had to hunt down, but all that mattered was the mission. He had not yet answered the call of his employer that sat on the fiery throne in the land of discord, but the objective was obvious in his sights.

Find the enemy, hunt them down, kill them. Simple as that.

He had met a few warriors on his travels so far, and while they seemed at the same strength he felt he was on the winning side in this invisible war thus far. The warriors on his side didn't seem hesitant to unleash their power as much as the other side did, but somehow it felt... strange, to him. Again, words failed to describe anything remotely close to how he felt. The only way he could think of describing it was if he put himself in the place of a rebellious youth that had been part of his training, one that defied the rules and forsook co-operation over arrogance and glory. The scar on his face seemed to suddenly sting as if it had been cut, and he held a hand up to his face to search for blood.

Nothing there. Just his synapses responding to a memory, if anything, that the man he was thinking of may have had something to do with his facial scar.

He began to walk from his point of entry, from one end of a branching platform towards the center. All he could see was a large, looming archway for now, but couldn't sense much else. He held no weapon in his hands, as for some reason in this world he could summon his Revolver gunblade into his hands with a mere though and a flash of darkened light. At least he could remember his own name and the name of the gunblade, even if he could not remember much else besides the patchiest of memories going in and out of his own training. His gunblade itself was a mixture of a gun and a blade obviously, but despite the sound of the name it did not have a dual function for the capacity of both. The gun part of the blade didn't fire bullets as projectiles, but detonated the ammunition as recoil to intensify the damage he inflicted with the blade.

Triggering the recoil at the same time as hacking into an enemy had been the most difficult and intense part of his training, as obviously dealing with a flinching blade to avoid not hurting himself and recoiling the blade into the enemy at the wrong time having disastrous effects made the gunblade one of the hardest weapons to master. Such thoughts remained in his mind as he approached the large archway entering the center of the platform, and saw a young woman sitting there sharpening a weapon much like it in sheer familiarity. (A gunblade? Well, aren't we the skilled warrior....) he thought within in own mind inwardly, closing his azure orbs after having examined the appearance of the hardened gunblade wielder. She didn't feel like she had the vibe she was one of the enemy, and thus was one of his allies and not one of his prey. Lucky for her.

But unlucky for him, having to come across her in a time he had escaped company and just wanted simply solitude.

And so without a weapon drawn in his hand, or even batting another eyelid in her direction in thought, he opened his oceanic orbs as he passed by her and continued on his merry way. Well, perhaps not merry, but on the path he had chosen none the less. He honestly preferred it this way, and the remote silence comforted him so. No annoying yapping or shouting in his ear, or lecturing and praise from the more lively types his stoic attitude seemed to attract. (Trust me, you're much better off on your own as I am.) he projected a thought towards the female, even if she could not hear his opinion. (If you let others into your heart, they'll just abandon you. In the end, all we have to trust are ourselves.)

Squall was fortunate enough to have a reason to fight on his own, but he wasn't fortunate enough to have someone to fight for. Back on his home world, all he could remember was just a blur of faces and memories as he progressed to pass his examinations. He couldn't even remember the name of the place he trained in, the name of what he was training to become or even his purpose... all that remained was the experience of fighting. All he could recollect of figures was another blond guy with a identical scar down his face, sneering and antagonizing him.

But... he felt there was more. Like people he had forgotten, but one of them wasn't the woman that sat on the circular platform sharpening a weapon that seemed vaguely identical to his.

(Why bother taking the time to know others? This is a warzone. Time to focus on the target.) he thought to himself. The world and that feeling someone had forgotten him, in turn, had betrayed and abandoned him in return respectfully.

Squall was on his own, a hardened merciless mercenary. Who else gave a damn?

[Lightning Farron]

He wanted solitude? Every time Lightning turned around she was crashing into some strange new person who brought up hazy half-memories of her home world or this world or other people she'd apparently met before. It was enough to make her want to scream and rip her pink hair out, but she had more self-control than that; instead, she ran the whetstone across the edge of her blade with stronger, faster strokes, the repetitiveness of the task soothing her slightly.

The soldier paused to look up at the man as he passed, but as soon as she deemed him to be one of her supposed allies, she returned her attention back to her gunblade. No matter how much she sharpened it, it never seemed sharp enough... just as the repetition soothed her, though, the futility made her want to try to make it as sharp as she liked. She never backed down from a challenge, much less one that presented itself in the form of her beloved weapon.

Some considered her obsession with the blade to be sadistic, but she kept it by her side for the same reason why she kept certain people by her side; it was faithful and had never failed her, in battle or otherwise. The Blazefire Saber was about as good a gunblade someone could get, and it was one of the few things that actually satisfied her rather high expectations, the others being the Zantesuken blades she was also rather fond of. Those she could summon with a flash of light, for some reason; she chose not to question it, though, and simply went with the flow. The idea of summoning her weapon all the time irked her slightly, though; what if fate decided to laugh in her face and cause the summoning to fail? She could use magic well enough as a Ravager, but her true skill was in her swift, efficient, powerful combination of gun blasts and swordplay.

Lightning held her gunblade up to the light to examine its edge, and she scowled yet again as she saw that it was still not sharpened to perfection. What would she have to do to make the damn thing comply? At this rate, she'd be sitting in the familiar place for decades before she got the thing sharpened just right.

Unwillingly, her gaze flicked from the blade to the Warrior of Chaos. It seemed like he was a loner, just like her; she could live with that. She had no wish for conversation at the moment anyway. If anything, all she really needed was a fight... but she had yet to run into even one hostile Warrior of Cosmos as of yet. Even a sparring match would be just fine by her; she needed something to work the kinks out, to get her blood flowing and relieve the stress pent up in her system.

Not much of a talker, huh. Lightning could deal with that. She couldn't stand it when people babbled on and on about themselves, never catching the hint that she honestly couldn't care less. Half the time she ended up just walking away, and the other half of the time, the babbler ended up with a black eye and a broken nose. But this warrior... she had a feeling that she would get along with this man just fine.

She sighed at her uncooperative blade and flicked her wrist, the sharp movement causing the blade to fold back on itself and change back into its gun form. She rested the barrel of the gunblade on her shoulder and placed her free hand on her hip, a slight scowl still marring her otherwise-pretty features.

"It's dangerous to walk around alone," she said, her matter-of-fact statement coming out sounding almost bored.

[Squall Leonhart]

There was no use in complaining about wanting to be alone when one was also looking for a fight. They could whinge about friends and family bothering all the time, but unless one was stranded in a world completely isolated on their own, they were going to seek company one way or the other. Whether it was for taking on the enemy in the battlefield, or looking for support. If one was completely trapped within solitude, whether it be physical barriers or barriers formed around themselves they would never let down, they would stop socializing within a society and begin to lose not only civility, but their grasp on reality. Somehow, the notion of being completely isolated in a world on the brink of oblivion jogged a memory in Squall's mind... but he couldn't fathom where in his timeline it could have been, for he only saw himself wandering and collapsing in a wasteland on the verge of self-destruction.

A feminine voice had called to him, but he couldn't remember the tone of the voice or the origin, only that it had called to him as his life seemed to flash before his eyes.

Shaking off the brief flood of recollections as if it were as simple as closing his eyes, he continued onward. Focusing on the other end of the platform and the exit, he was suddenly interrupted by the female calling out to him in a bland, casual observation. Making note aloud of the fact he was traveling alone, and that in doing so was dangerous to one's health. (Why does everyone always point that out? Not like she's in a group herself...) He stopped walking for a moment, his eyes closed as he finished thinking to himself, but didn't turn around to face the young woman. "It's dangerous no matter how many of us are together, but I'll survive just fine on my own reaching our goal. Isn't that why you're traveling by yourself?" he reminded her, only then finally turning around and opening his eyes to face her.

(Besides, this moment proving my point, traveling with others and making chit-chat only slows you down and distracts from the mission.) he considered inwardly. Steely cobalt blue eyes were already narrowed back at the fellow warrior of Chaos, already a bit disgruntled he hadn't been able to pass by without some chick wanting to start a conversation. Even if she sounded like the type who clearly wasn't very interested in him, if only that he wasn't a constant annoyance to her either. He preferred to be alone because it was his choice, but he wasn't about to elaborate on that to continue the conversation.

Although, on his earlier thought, he supposed it was alright that someone communicated to him every now and then so he wasn't completely in the dark about the intel they were getting in this war. It was just the inane, idle chatter just for the sake of making conversation that bothered him. Why get all chummy and act like best friends when obviously they wouldn't stay like that anyway, heading back to their home worlds after this was over? They were soliders moving towards enemy lines, pieces on someone else's chessboard, avatars in this idle spat for dominance between these two opposing gods. He also supposed it was bearable to work together as a unit to carry out more operations more than a single man or woman could do on their own, but he saw no purpose for that right now.

While turning to face her to make his point and perhaps move on once his icy glare had perturbed her, he noticed again the gunblade she was holding. Now it had changed shape as it rested on her shoulder, in the form of a gun rather than a blade. (Interesting. Looks like someone got themselves a fancy upgrade as well as a new fighting style.) She had also finished sharpening it, which was probably for the best in her case. (If she had sharpened that blade any further, it probably would have been ground into a nub.) he humored dryly to himself, and perhaps later on it would prove a misfortune for him if she dared raised it against him. But for her sake, it was probably not the best idea to get in the way of the prideful lion.

He couldn't believe he was still standing there, as he probably was encouraging more conversation just waiting for a response. In fact, if he just turned around and started walking now, it didn't matter. Even if he came off as rude, what did he care what she thought of him anyway? Even if he did consider her and himself somehow different from the other warriors of Chaos they met, and not just for the gunblades they carried. They weren't so inhuman in their motives that they were looking to explicitly wreck havoc on the world just for the sake of doing so, or sought control with their machinations as if they were the gods themselves. Just two ruthless soldiers carrying out orders and if he had to put up with anyone he wouldn't mind her cold shoulder. But if she had ideas to cross him,he'd take her out if she got in his way, bringing Squall back to his previous thought about departing. "We've got marks to take out. Then we can get out and go back where we came from." he concluded, not having any interest in the female any longer than he needed to in addressing her statement.

Turning away, he continued walking down his path. If she had a point to what she had said, she could walk and talk. Then they'd actually be making progress.

[Lightning Farron]

If she had ideas to cross him? Of course she had ideas to cross him. To be perfectly honest, she didn't think much of this leather-clad, self-proclaimed "lion"; if anything, she thought that he was arrogant and self-serving, just like many of the other Warriors of Chaos. But perhaps she was jumping to conclusions; he did seem different, in a way. Not different like Raine had been, but different all the same. He gave off a sense of estrangement, almost, like he wasn't willingly traveling by himself. She was never very good at reading people though. Just their fighting styles.

Light made no response at first. It wasn't that she was at a loss for words; in fact, several witty responses came to mind in a single instant, her sharp mind whirling faster than a kid with ADHD with magic markers and hopped up on sugar. She was an intelligent woman, Lightning; she just preferred to display her intelligence through battle and disparaging comments. No, she kept silent simply because she sensed that he wasn't one for conversation, and mindless prattle would annoy him just as it annoyed Light. Not that she prattled, mind you. The day someone caught her prattling would be the day when she gave up fighting and threw a tea party for a group of stuffed animals.

She simply met his stare, aqua eyes meeting cobalt; there was no hostility in her gaze, and her expression was unfathomable. Soldier girl's a cold robot, someone had joked once. Whoever it was (and she had a feeling that it was the sari-clad woman who had surfaced from her memories), they had probably meant it to be simply a humorous comment, but it couldn't have been closer to the truth. Lightning smiled every now and again, but faintly, and only around certain people. Like Raine, for instance. She had an inane fondness for the girl, as well as a ridiculous urge to protect her from whatever harm sent her way. It made no sense, but Light refused to question it. Her heart was a traitorous thing, best left under lock and key to be ignored until she absolutely needed it. Of course, her emotions were dangerous when left to their own devices, and the seeds of doubt always flowered when she finally let herself feel. But those were thoughts better left for later; she had an arrogant loner asshat to deal with, and she wouldn't allow herself to be distracted.

Lightning's eyes narrowed as he turned away from her, and in a single fluid motion she lifted the gunblade from her shoulder, leveled it, and fired off a single bullet in the so-called-lion's direction. Unless he deliberately moved into its path, the projectile would graze his ear at most; she had no wish to kill him, as that would put her own life in jeopardy. She simply wanted his attention, and a fight. Fighting always put her mind at ease, and the gods only knew how much she needed a rest.

"I travel by myself because I'm strong enough to get what I have to do done," she replied coolly, shouldering the Blazefire Saber once more. "Are you?"

[Squall Leonhart]

She made a big mistake going about it the way she did. Squall had no intention of crossing her, the only reason he felt he was on Chaos's side was because of how aloof and callous he could be. He assumed she would be like him, and simply leave him alone the same way he had left her to seek the enemy out. Focus on what was vital, and not get caught up in petty matters. He had felt like he had enough training in his previous world that he could practice on the enemy, and make that rehearsal for the real fight.

He wasn't interested in why she was traveling by herself as she was to him, and had turned away in confidence he was not going to find out anytime soon. Not only did he not have the time to care, but he was pretty sure she wasn't the type like him to open up so easily and tell him straight anyway. She had good sense if she did that, in keeping her heart cold from others she could focus on helping him take out separate targets. Maybe even work together separately further down the track, professionally like soldiers should. Anything else he couldn't allow himself to delve in, perhaps alike enough in solitude and mannerisms that they could be mutually respectful comrades in arms. He wasn't going to hold his breath as time would tell these things, but he was sure she didn't seem like his type and he most likely wasn't hers.

He was almost to the next archway and deciding which path to follow, and it would be a relief to see the light of day once more. But a gunshot rang out, and instinctively his muscles tensed in response to the start of battle. Had a warrior of the opposing force found them and ambushed them from their blind, already. (Damn it. This is exactly why I don't allow for distractions!) Squall could only think that to himself as he threw his body into a dodge roll to his right, dangerously close to the edge and glancing down into the ensnaring darkness beyond the depths of the platform. Training wasn't just for grades and a gold star, for he had been taught how to survive on the battlefield and rely on his senses than simply depending on his sight. In the time it took to turn around to confirm a bullet could be coming his way, he could be given a clean headshot and a quick funeral. As he had come out of the roll and placed a gloved leather hand on the edge a fraction away from tumbling into the abyss, that was when he felt a sharp sting from fresh air making contact with excreting blood dripping down his ear. No time to register the damage with the other hand he hadn't used to balance himself from free-falling, instead he placed both feet firmly beneath him once more and spun around to face his assailant.

The only person standing there was the solider with her gunblade pointed at him, and he could only imagine the smugness she must have felt under that stoic expression she had grazed his ear. (I knew it, a risky attempt coming at me from behind.) And yet, in that rush of adrenaline he felt when the gunshot went off he had felt the bullet shear his earlobe from the straight line he had been walking. (Either that's a warning shot, or she's got pretty lousy aim.) As she began to speak with him to finally answer his question he had meant to be rhetorical, he understood that she was questioning his strength in comparison to his own. He got the feeling the shot had been a brash move to get his attention, and she wanted to challenge him for some reason. "In case you didn't hear met the first time, and that whetstone was only good for sharpening your blade and not your hearing," he began, summoning his Gunblade in a flash of darkened light and slinging it over his shoulder. "...I'll say it one last time. I'll survive fine on my own, so I'm strong enough to complete my task." (I need to press on, that's my strength.) Reaching a hand to flick away the blood that had trickled down his earlobe, he was relieved to find that the frame of his ear was only nicked and not broken. He swung and then thrust his gunblade out before him in a quick fluid motion, so the silver tip was pointed straight at her heart to prepare himself. His other hand crossing over his chest and resting on his other bicep as he did so, adding strength and support as he leveled his weapon defensively at her while beckoning at the same time for her to come get him. "What's the matter, not convinced? Have it your way. I'll cut down anyone who gets in my way." He got the feeling she just wanted to test her resolve and sharpen her skills against him, just as she had used her whetstone. He was curious to see how her gunblade worked differently from his now, and if he was able to strengthen her for the trials they had to endure ahead of them then this wouldn't be a complete waste of time.

[Lightning Farron]

Despite what the man thought, Lightning felt no pride over the blood oozing out of his ear. She considered the shot to be a dirty trick, even though it was only to grab his attention; she hated wounding people from behind, and even though he had decent reflexes, a lesser man might have even rolled the wrong way and end up with the bullet in his back instead.

Even with her slight guilt hampering her judgement, she wasn't stupid enough to comply with the man's gestured demand. If he wasn't going to come to her, then she'd just fight from a distance. She was a versatile fighter if nothing else, and she could adapt to just about anything in battle.

Lightning sheathed her gunblade, and a subtle glow enveloped her frame for a moment as she shifted Paradigms to her Ravager form. Almost instantly, her Zantesuken blades appeared in her hands with a small flash of light; with a deft movement, she connected them at the hilts to form something that resembled a staff. She whirled it in quick circles above her head, the motion creating a swirl of cutting wind that flew off towards her opponent. Even if he dodged the initial strike, it would only follow him; Razor Gale was one of her better spells, and it was typically effective as a first strike.

Light wasn't quite as comfortable in Ravager mode as she was in Commando, but it would be good practice for her. She had no intentions of killing the man, after all; the sergeant would take the fight seriously, of course, but she wasn't going to let him die. If he got hurt, then he got hurt, and it was his own damn fault for not blocking or dodging correctly.

battle status: ravager paradigm. unharmed. armed with the zantesuken blades, in staff form.
summary: sheathed her gunblade, shifted to the ravager paradigm, used Razor Gale on Squall.

[Squall Leonhart]

(OOC: Okay, second time typing this, lost my entire post in the original, so sorry if it's not as good as I could have made it. -sighs- >>; And this is the second time my characters have been challenged by Lightning. -chuckles-)

Well, here came the rest of the pain along with the informal challenge this other warrior of discord had thrown into his path. Squall had been about as kind as Squall could get at the best of times, respecting the space and peace of mind of the other gunblade wielder. And in return it was either to get back at him for how much of an asshat he had been, or in some strange sense to reward him by getting them both ready for the battles to come. For some reason though from what she had said, he still had that gut feeling it was more for her benefit than it was his own. Maybe in some small way she challenged him because she respected similarities between them, and saw the strength she had questioned of his. (Although I wouldn't go that far. Looks like she's just as prideful to conceal herself as I am. Gotta admire that.

His gunblade still remained pointing at her, his ocean blue eyes waiting for her to have the first move of the battle she initiated. Nothing like ladies first or any of that gallant tripe they never appreciated, but he wanted to see the kind of fighting style she used with her transforming gunblade so long as he was testing her. It looked like that was going to have to wait however, as she slung the gunblade from her shoulder back into the holster hanging from her back. She also glowed with a strange green aura that must have been magic, but the prideful lion focused on the gunblade's new replacement It it's place she summoned into her hands two curved, barbed blades that connected at the hilt to form a large swallow-blade. A memory seemed to trigger in the area of his mind that he remembered was also the place summons were stored in his world, that was the same feeling he got when looking at the strange new weapon. (This should be interesting... she's integrated the powers of a Guardian Force?) "You're no ordinary soldier." he remarked, but he had no time to make comparisons with the other female having similar powers in his memories before the strawberry blond spun the blades above her head and sent a energy disc his way.

The disc was as easily wide as either of them were tall, and the young man didn't think it was worth the risk trying to see if he could block or cut through it. He wasn't about to stand around and let it hit him either from this distance, or else he'd probably have something severed from his body he rather wouldn't. He rolled to his right away from the edge he had almost fallen from in a attempt to dodge it, but the disk changed direction and followed him. A mistake he had learned which soon might cost him, with the flying disk of death nearing him in the time he had left. He flipped forward in the air over the razor-saw, planting his feet on the wall of the archway the other gunblade wielder had stopped him at.

As he did, he kicked himself off from the wall forward over the frisbee of doom to test just how well it could home after him going in the opposite direction. As he did so, some of the energy from the blade sliced scratches over his arms as he crossed over it's threshold. He didn't watch where it went after it passed under him as he fought off the pain, concentrating on moving his gunblade forward along with his body. As a blue aura surrounded him, he activated Rough Divide as he dove through the air towards Lightning in a diagonal high-speed tackle. Focusing the flat of his blade so it would just slightly graze her on her bare shoulders if the attack successfully followed through, to give her a taste of her own medicine for shaving his ear from her earlier shot.

Rough Divide: Three-post cooldown.

Summary: Tried to evade Razor Gale by flipping over it, got damaged slightly, then counter-attacked with Rough Divide.