eternally missed. [closed & backdated.]
Characters: Cecil Harvey and Megatron.
Setting/Location; Ex Favila; bar.
Date & Time; Backdated like crazy. 3 months ago backdated. :o
Warnings; None.
Briefing; Megatron's brigade are betrayed mid-operation by an enemy spy, and Cecil and Megatron are the only survivors of the massacre that follows. Megatron-mun, comment to this whenever you have the time. ;D I'm not putting it up to force it on you, I think it'd just be best to have something here while the concept is still fresh in my head.
A military commander even at the world he belonged to, Cecil should have been extremely used to this. Yet nothing like this had ever happened before. The Paladin had been briefed, yet he wasn't first-hand aware of the destructive powers of automated weapons. Nor was he aware of the fact that one of his unit was a mole which had ate with the men, trained with them... They'd shared things together, and this mole had waited until they were absolutely defenceless and mid-objective before betraying them. It had been a massacre. That was the only word for it. The losses had been absolutely catastrophic. From a tactical standpoint the objective had been a complete disaster in every single sense of the word. He didn't even know how he'd survived, a few too many knocks to the head from trying to use his body as a shield had meant that the Paladin had merely remembered something.... big. Megatron, perhaps... picking him up and then everything around him fading.
He'd prepared himself to die there with the others.
Cecil had discharged himself from the medical unit- head still ringing with gunfire and eyes still burning from gunfire against the medic's orders; wandering along the underground campground with very little regard for current temperature and not even the regard to change forms from a rather bloodied and beaten Paladin to Dark Knight where his wounds would be concealed and he would wear the mask of demon to hide his own. He was dazed. Far too dazed to revert to old habits. What had happened... it had not sunk in. The fact he had almost died had not sunk in. It was merely there.
"My brother. Even though you know well the meaning of betrayal, you would still side with others?"
His older brother's voice, once considerate and wise was now almost taunting, almost full of the venom it had been when he had been his enemy. A faceless enemy, forcing betrayal after betrayal unto him from the people which he loved. He'd forgiven. He'd forgot. He'd allowed himself to remain open to more betrayal by continuing to believe. Now.. It was hard to believe. He made his way to the cafeteria / bar and stood at the counter, watching with dead eyes as something was handed to him. Something strong. At the Paladin's next words, the hallowed Mythgraven blade started to gleam in its ornate sheath, words of Mysidian legend burning into the Paladin's skull and counteracting gunfire and screaming.
" My friends, brother.. they are my strength. ...I swear it on my sword. I will not be dissuaded from my beliefs. "
Little did the Paladin know that his brother was not here. Nor was anyone. This was merely the result of taking one too many knocks on the head, but to him it was real. His brother's methods of communicating with him had always been rather.... shaky, to say the least; so it was very little wonder that he saw this as real. Injury or not. He took a drink, hissing slightly as the substance burned against smoke and dirt in his throat. But he swallowed, listening to the mirage of blood relatives deep sigh of frustration at this subject; the subject they'd never been able to agree upon.
"Cecil... You are far too kind to be a knight."
It was true. It was one thing to trust others with everything inside of him if he was the only one which could have ended up hurt from it. But this... he'd trusted. He'd believed. It was his belief which had meant the deaths of the soldiers around him. Was this what his brother had meant, even if his words were nothing but conjecture brought on by trauma?
"Brother.."
He was gone. The presence, the voice... it was all gone.
Setting/Location; Ex Favila; bar.
Date & Time; Backdated like crazy. 3 months ago backdated. :o
Warnings; None.
Briefing; Megatron's brigade are betrayed mid-operation by an enemy spy, and Cecil and Megatron are the only survivors of the massacre that follows. Megatron-mun, comment to this whenever you have the time. ;D I'm not putting it up to force it on you, I think it'd just be best to have something here while the concept is still fresh in my head.
A military commander even at the world he belonged to, Cecil should have been extremely used to this. Yet nothing like this had ever happened before. The Paladin had been briefed, yet he wasn't first-hand aware of the destructive powers of automated weapons. Nor was he aware of the fact that one of his unit was a mole which had ate with the men, trained with them... They'd shared things together, and this mole had waited until they were absolutely defenceless and mid-objective before betraying them. It had been a massacre. That was the only word for it. The losses had been absolutely catastrophic. From a tactical standpoint the objective had been a complete disaster in every single sense of the word. He didn't even know how he'd survived, a few too many knocks to the head from trying to use his body as a shield had meant that the Paladin had merely remembered something.... big. Megatron, perhaps... picking him up and then everything around him fading.
He'd prepared himself to die there with the others.
Cecil had discharged himself from the medical unit- head still ringing with gunfire and eyes still burning from gunfire against the medic's orders; wandering along the underground campground with very little regard for current temperature and not even the regard to change forms from a rather bloodied and beaten Paladin to Dark Knight where his wounds would be concealed and he would wear the mask of demon to hide his own. He was dazed. Far too dazed to revert to old habits. What had happened... it had not sunk in. The fact he had almost died had not sunk in. It was merely there.
"My brother. Even though you know well the meaning of betrayal, you would still side with others?"
His older brother's voice, once considerate and wise was now almost taunting, almost full of the venom it had been when he had been his enemy. A faceless enemy, forcing betrayal after betrayal unto him from the people which he loved. He'd forgiven. He'd forgot. He'd allowed himself to remain open to more betrayal by continuing to believe. Now.. It was hard to believe. He made his way to the cafeteria / bar and stood at the counter, watching with dead eyes as something was handed to him. Something strong. At the Paladin's next words, the hallowed Mythgraven blade started to gleam in its ornate sheath, words of Mysidian legend burning into the Paladin's skull and counteracting gunfire and screaming.
" My friends, brother.. they are my strength. ...I swear it on my sword. I will not be dissuaded from my beliefs. "
Little did the Paladin know that his brother was not here. Nor was anyone. This was merely the result of taking one too many knocks on the head, but to him it was real. His brother's methods of communicating with him had always been rather.... shaky, to say the least; so it was very little wonder that he saw this as real. Injury or not. He took a drink, hissing slightly as the substance burned against smoke and dirt in his throat. But he swallowed, listening to the mirage of blood relatives deep sigh of frustration at this subject; the subject they'd never been able to agree upon.
"Cecil... You are far too kind to be a knight."
It was true. It was one thing to trust others with everything inside of him if he was the only one which could have ended up hurt from it. But this... he'd trusted. He'd believed. It was his belief which had meant the deaths of the soldiers around him. Was this what his brother had meant, even if his words were nothing but conjecture brought on by trauma?
"Brother.."
He was gone. The presence, the voice... it was all gone.