etrayalogs | Mission 010 Catch All

Edited 2025-08-02 21:00 (UTC)

[Clive isn’t sure what time it is when he hauls himself over the fence into the backyard of Barnabas’ house. It’s nighttime. That’s all he knows. There is no true darkness in this place, no quiet, and right now everything burns. He can feel it pushing through his skin, the scorching need to destroy all of this, burn down everything. It has only been getting worse. At first, he could satiate the itch by stopping people from doing bad things. Then he could do the same, but with a little added violence.

Then he met the man in front of the Veil and Virtue building and everything got so much stronger. A disdain for this world that only grew as the days went by. Then, simple violence wasn’t enough. He needed to see them in agony, as their flesh crackled under his touch, limbs becoming useless as they begged for their lives. And he let them keep them, their lives. Perhaps then they would learn.

Until tonight. It wasn’t enough. He kept pushing. A charred hand turned into a charred arm turned into- They were dead and all that was left was a smoldering pile of liquid fat and burnt bones. He left enough for them to identify the body. After all, their family needs to know what scum they have in their blood so they can excise any others that may be the same. Clive squeezes his eyes closed against the thought. No. No, that wasn’t right.

Barnabas. He needs Barnabas. If anyone can stop him, he can.

He feels his body revolt as he puts his foot on the stairs that will lead him up towards the top balcony. Clive staggers back and folds in on himself. Those horns rip back through, threatening flame. His skin darkens and cracks, hardening to jagged rock and obsidian, the glow of molten earth and fire showing through the fissures. His bones crack and change, giving form to a jagged ridge down his back, legs reshaped, fingers long and taloned, tail lashing out behind him. His hair grows, feathers out, strands of ruby flame weaving their way in, ever in motion.

Panting, he looks up, blue eyes now glowing with the tell-tale brightness of his Eikon, and unfurls to stand at his full height of 8 feet. He tilts his head, hears the sound of people out on the sidewalk going by, feels fire threaten to crackle fresh across his form, and staggers. No. No, he can’t. He curls in on himself again, trying to fight back the change, revert to his normal form, but he can’t. Barnabas should have felt him by now. Would that be enough? Would he come?

Clive is afraid to move, afraid that if he unfurls, whatever impulses that rage within him will win, will jump right back over that fence and find another body to burn.]

Barnabas…

[And the thing inside of him sings at the promise of challenge. Clive wars with it, heart racing at the promise of what might turn into a battle and the fear of not being able to stop.]

I need you.

[[ooc: body changes inspired by Ifrit concept art.]]

Edited 2025-08-02 21:04 (UTC)

[Clive hadn’t been spending as much time at Joshua and Dion’s recently as he had before. It felt too dangerous. They were both too keen and he could not let them see. Couldn’t let them see the pull, the itch, the need. But he missed Silas. The child had been a balm to him earlier in the month and again the few times he had seen him since. So he had made plans. Take Silas to the beach, give Joshua and Dion some alone time together.

He arrived a little early, bag of goodies for sandcastle making slung over his shoulder, and walked in without knocking.]

I’m here!

[He called out, starting to look for his charge for the day.]

Who wants to go build sandcastles?

[He needed this, perhaps even more than Silas. But he couldn’t imagine a 4-year-old wanting to be cooped up in the house all day either. Today would be a good one, he could already feel it.]

Edited 2025-08-02 21:02 (UTC)

[He was on fire but everything was cold. The flames guttered and died, blood dripped from clawed fingers, once vibrant blue eyes dull, footsteps slow, path automatic. He couldn’t wash it off. If he washed it off, he would be gone. That would be it. The last warmth of a man he had come to care for so dearly. Even as the blood started congealing on his skin, he did not move to wipe it off.

His body had slowly shifted back to its human form. Ifrit’s voice was quiet for once. Maybe the first time since he met Nate. But the blood stayed. He willed it to stay. It was the first time he had tried that, willing something to stay between his forms. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Vander was dead.

Clive had killed him.

He lost control. He lost control and now Vander was dead and it was all his fault. Why couldn’t he have just kept control, reined Ifrit in, reasoned with him, calmed him? No. No he couldn’t pass this off. Ifrit was him, he was Ifrit. He had killed Vander. Tore him apart with his own two hands, tasted his blood, cloying and –

He shuddered. Blood no longer dripped. It was drying, caking on his skin, in his hair, in his clothes. Only the tracks left behind by tears expose truly clean skin. He was dead. Vander was dead. Gone. Vander. Oh Vander. Beautiful, vibrant, intelligent, kind Vander. He wanted to scream again, but there was nothing left in him, only the hollow cold that spread from his chest, turning his body leaden.

And yet he walked. He arrived at a familiar house, climbed his way to the door, and rang the bell. Once the door opened, he whispered, voice hoarse.]

Joshua…

[Something had been bugging Clive, his gut telling him that he was needed somewhere. That there was something he needed to do. He had already been planning on going to see Vander that day so he thought it might come to him when he saw the man. Lately, Vander had been one of the only people who could give him any sort of clarity, that would help his mind go quiet against all of the rage inside, the anger at the state of this world, at the desire to cleanse it all away.

The smell of blood hit him before anything else. Then those earthy tones that were so distinctly Vander, the gentle overlay of sandalwood and lavender. He broke into a dead sprint, using a light post to whip himself around a corner so he didn’t need to slow down. He tore through the city, shoving anyone in front of him out of the way, tracking as the scent got stronger and stronger until he was rounding a bend and saw them.

Vander, on the ground, not moving, and a man he had never seen bent over him, covered in his blood, teeth embedded in the other man’s flesh.

Rage blanked his vision, and suddenly there was a burst of flame. One second, he moved as he did when he was a man, the next, he was a towering half-man, half-monster. Horns spurting bursts of flame extended backwards from his head, skin a mix of raised rock and obsidian hiding the flow of magma beneath, tail whipping behind him, hands turned monstrous and clawed, legs that of a beast. Glowing electric blue eyes blazed in rage, teeth made for tearing flesh bared.

Without slowing down, he bodily slammed into the creature lurking over his friend and maybe-lover, sending them both toppling and tumbling over the ground.]

[[ooc: body changes inspired by Ifrit concept art.]]

Edited 2025-08-02 21:24 (UTC)

[The second it was safe to turn his back, Clive turned to face where Vander’s body lay. For a moment, he was frozen to the spot. Grand, vivacious Vander. Beautiful and kind and generous. Rough and violent and strong. Grief’s ugly hands pulled forth from their hideous ocean inside of him, reaching and climbing his ribs. With each step he took towards Vander’s body, those hands climbed closer and closer to his heart.

~~[no no no no no no not him no]~~

He sank to his knees, looking down at his body. A sob almost choked its way out of him. He was so pale. There was so much blood. Why hadn’t he been there sooner? Why couldn’t he have listened to his gut before? Would even 5 minutes have been enough to stop this from happening?

~~[not him please not him]~~

With shaking fingers, Clive reached down to gently run the back of a rough hand against Vander’s cheek. Would Etraya’s rule of ‘no death’ still apply here? If it didn’t, this is the last image he would have. A man once so vibrant, pale and bloody and dead. Again. It was happening again. Kneeling in the blood of a man he cared for, unable to do anything, as their life left them. Would anything ever change?

~~[ill kill them ill fucking kill them they are going to die theyre all going to burn every last one of them]~~

Carefully, Clive lifted Vander’s body to hold him to his chest, letting the armor there meld back into his flesh so Vander was tucked against the soft, warm skin of his human form while still maintaining the majority of Ifrit’s shape..]

Edited 2025-08-04 22:25 (UTC)

[Kirk would swear it wasn't planned. This wasn't the result of another hunt. It just happened. Kirk's self-control had been breaking down over the last three weeks. It's been maddening to think about how easy it is for most people to eat whenever and whatever while he has to play nice and put extra restrictions on himself. For what? So-called morals? Is it still morally correct if he has to keep starving himself?

So Kirk had enough. It feels like a blur. One moment he and Vander were talking and the next, he's trying to rip his throat out.

The beast in him was savoring his newest meal when he smells smoke and something intensely burning. Before he had a chance to react, he's slammed and knocked away from his prey. It's a mess of punches, clawing, and kicks to try and get the interloper off of him]

[Every punch, claw, and kick is returned with one that is just as ferocious. He can feel parts of his armor crack with particularly well-aimed or strong hits, the threatening magma underneath dribbling through to hit flesh or pavement, sizzling in the comparatively cool air.

There is nothing coordinated about this fight, simply two beasts intent on destroying the other. With a bellow of frustration, Clive shoves his knee between the two of them and kicks out, talons ripping into skin as he tries to get a little distance between the two. He wanted to see this thing's face when it was consumed by hellfire.

His voice, when he speaks, sounds like the deep earth, plates running together, promising eruption.]

How dare you?

[Flames erupted on the backs of Clive's hands, eating their way up his arms until they join and bridge a ridge of flame down his spine. He shifts to put himself between whatever this thing was and Vander, letting a ball of flame begin to pool in his hand. He should have gotten here sooner. Fuck. Fuck.]

You will burn for what you've done.

[And with that, he throws the flaming orb at the one who so brazenly decided to go for what wasn't his.]

[Kirk yells in pain as he's burned and clawed. As soon as he has little bit of space, he attempts to use his own non-human strength and tries to fly. He doesn't know who or what Clive is. All he knows is that he's dangerous.

Kirk dodges the orb and hisses, angry that a meal was being stolen from him again]

Oh no you don't.

[Clive launches himself after the fleeing creature, powerful legs catapulting him into the air. He may not be able to fly, not without the Phoenix, but if he can catch this thing, it won't matter. He'll tear its fucking throat out.

He launches another fireball, not directly at Kirk, but in the direction he is trying to retreat to. He reaches out to grab his prey's leg with every intention of slamming it back onto the pavement.]

[Kirk does try to fly higher up. However, he didn't anticipate Clive's next attack going right to where he was trying to retreat to. He yells again. Everything hurts from the flames. He can't stay in the air. He starts plummeting back to the ground]

[Clive lands hard next to where Kirk lands, shaking the ground. He looms over the man on the concrete and curls his lip in disgust. Planting a heavy foot on his prey's chest, he crouches down and grabs the man by the jaw.]

Give me one good reason not to rip your jaw off and let you drown in your own blood.

[While in some ways Silas is rather mature for their age, they're still very much a child. Hearing that voice causes a loud shriek of excitement and a small child hurtling towards Clive at excessive speed.]

Unca Cliffie!

[One can only hope Clive is braced for impact or there could be trouble.]

Sandcastles? We're going to the playground?

[Clive is 100% braced for impact. He crouches down to catch the missile of a child and swing him up into the air in a circle before balancing him on his hip, one arm wrapped around him securely.]

Mmmm, I was thinking something more along the lines of the beach. How's that sound?

[Founder, this kid was cute.]

[ Hernan's concern for Kirk had him watching his friend more closely than he might have if they were back home. Or hell, even back in Etraya. There'd been something different about him now. Not in a way Hernan could name, but in a way that did set him on edge. Maybe, before this mission, Hernan would not have cared. But things were different here. Different enough that Hernan had started trailing Kirk whenever he went hunting.

He's rarely worried when he loses sight of him. Kirk's always easy to spot. Even at a distance. But Kirk disappearing isn't what hastens Hernan cutting a path over the skyline. It's the smell. Blood. Fresh and warm, thick in the air and stronger the closer Hernan gets to the scene. He hears Clive long before he sees him and the threat isn't an idle one.

Hernan stops on a dime, dropping to the ground and splintering it under his fist. More to get Clive's attention off of Kirk and on to him. ]

I'll give you two. One: I won't rip you in half. And two: You might get to walk away from this. Now, let him go. I am asking politely.

[In the mix of rage and pain, Kirk barely registers Hernan's arrival when he smashes the ground. There's hissing and growling as he struggles to break away from Clive's grip]

[Clive's head whips up at the tremor in the earth and sounds of cracking concrete. He growls, baring his teeth at whoever the fuck this was. Someone here to save a beast who deserved no mercy. He grips his prey's jaw tighter but does not take further action.]

You're here to defend this?

[Clive slides his hand down to grab the thing below him by the thigh and lift him as if he weighs nothing.]

Murdering piece of shit?

[Kirk can struggle, but Clive ignores any contact he makes.]

How far are you willing to go? Who would you be willing to sacrifice to let this creature live?

[There is something new in Clive's eye, a glint that hadn't been there before, curious, assessing.]

[ Hernan eyes Kirk, checking him for injuries or anything he should be concerned about. Then his attention shifts back to Clive. ]

Watch your mouth.

[ He hefts himself up into the air at his question, hovering some feet above the ground, hands curling tight into fists. It's not a grand display. Just power, coiled tight and ready to strike. ]

How far am I willing to go? I've killed for less. You, my ugly friend, won't be the exception.

[Hernan doesn't have to look very hard to see that Kirk's suit is torn and burned all over the place. His body is also full of burns, cuts, and bruises. The plummet back to the Earth when he tried to fly away didn't help either.

Kirk continues to struggle but it won't be long before he passes out from the heavy blood loss he's experiencing]

[No he will not watch his mouth, thank you very fucking much.]

A good man is dead because of this thing.

[Clive looks over the man hovering in the air, largely unimpressed. In actuality, he had better things to do. Like care for the body of a man he cared for deeply. Quickly enough where it should have scared him, quickly enough for that dark sea to come lapping in, full of the faces he couldn't-- No. He needed to deal with this farce before he could let the grief sink in.

He carelessly tosses Kirk at Hernan's feet, caring little for any additional damage the creature may take.]

Take him and go. Count the fact that [Clive gestures at the barely conscious Kirk.] still breathes as a gift. One he has robbed many of with the life he took today.

[He backs up towards Vander's body, never taking his eyes off of the man floating in the air.]

I'd say I hope you never know the pain of losing him, but I would be lying. [He sneers.] I hope you spend the rest of his miserable existence watching him suffer.

[And when all of this was said and done, when Vander was taken care of and he had cried his tears, he would be back. He would be back and everything would burn. The man floating in the air, the pathetic beast at his feet, every last thing on this miserable fucking planet would turn to ash.]

Edited (rewording something) 2025-08-04 03:32 (UTC)

[ In the span of a breath, Hernan swoops down and catches Kirk before he can hit the ground. He doesn't slow - just keeps rising, holding Kirk tight against him as they gain altitude. He knew the man Kirk had killed. Knew what it would mean once Kirk came back to himself. The guilt would destroy him. ]

Spare me the speech, ojete. You're not that noble.

[ Whatever he had done, however it had gone wrong, Hernan didn't believe this is all on Kirk. He'd been off since the mission started. A man willing to starve himself to madness wouldn't kill someone he cared about. At least not like this. Not Kirk. He isn't the monster here. And as far as Hernan cared, his opinion is the only one that mattered. He gives Clive one last look before turning to fly Kirk home. ]

[It's fine. Everything's going just fine and dainty.]

[To Clive, in this moment, good. He hopes that killing Vander haunts him for the rest of his miserable life, however long or short Clive decides it shall be. He sneers as the other man rises into the air, cradling something disgusting like it was something precious.]

I never said I was.

[Enjoy your moments together while you can, bastard.]

[Nothing had been able to settle the burning rage that was roaring inside of Clive. He had been able to keep it in check while he was with Sleipnir. The man had needed him and he was going to be there for his friend. It wasn’t until he made sure the other made was home safe that he really let the rage loose.

There was an evil little piece of shit that was going to die. It would pay for what it did and Clive was going to make sure it felt every single second of it. A quick death would be too good for that filth.

It took a couple of days to track the disgusting little thing down, but once he did, he followed. He watched. The fire raged just under the skin, but he could be patient. He needed to make sure they would be somewhere they wouldn’t be interrupted. The frailty of the thing was surprising, but Sleipnir was very clear about the danger it posed.

So when Clive attacks, he is swift to pin it, prone, to the damp grass of the park. His monstrous form hulking over the slip of a thing, he pins it to the ground with one large, taloned foot and leans down and growls, the smoke of hellfire washing over the worm beneath him.]

I hope you enjoy receiving pain as much as you enjoy giving it.

[With a scalding hand that would quickly turn blisters into third degree burns, Clive yanks an arm back, popping it clean out of its socket before letting his jaw split wide enough to fit its forearm into his mouth and clamps down with a ferocity that tears skin and flesh and shakes as an animal would it’s prey, relishing the breaking of bone between his teeth.]

[[ooc: Clive's new physical traits are based on Ifrit's concept art for FF16. While his visage is still overall human, the traits he has adopted are from his Eikon's form.

Quick description: horns, tail, monster arms and legs, armored skin that looks like it is made out of rock and obsidian with cracks flowing with lava, glowing blue eyes, longer hair that has strands of what look like fire going through it]]

Edited 2025-08-09 14:55 (UTC)

Mission 010 Catch All - Closed

Sleipnir - Later in the event

Barnabas - Late Week 3

Silas - Early Week 3

Joshua - Late Week 4 (after Vander's death)

Leon - Last half of the event

Kirk - Late Week 4

Vander - Late Week 4

CW: Description of a vampire feeding

Cw: this way there be violence

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Did someone order a Kryptonian?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

I think that's a wrap.

Accelerator - Later in the event, post Sleipnir death