so hit 'em with a whole tidal wave

[menaceunleashed]

Who: Bunch o people!
Status: Semi-open; please see this post
Where: The Desert Wind, docked at Nogard
What: Sidestep Rescue Party! A
Warnings: Violence, past trauma/torture/etc. CHARDEATH.

Still requiring some repairs from Turo's rescue, this time, The Desert Wind has docked at Nogard while it finishes dealing with an errant member of its crew.

[Comment headers to be posted.]

Comments

MAIN SIDESTEP RESCUE

[menaceunleashed]

[telepathicignorance]

(Close quarters fighting is, as a rule, best avoided if possible, so most of the monsters--the Phantoms and Megamaki and that cat thing--are trying to people from getting inside the ship in the first place.

Now that Hawks and Faulkner have passed that and entered the ship itself... it's quiet. Anyone still on the ship that hasn't joined the fighting has--wisely--opted not to get involved.

On the air, there's the faint scent of blood.)

[withermarked]

[ This is a different side of Faulkner than he’s usually been showing; quiet and serious, no prattling on and no pretending to be quite so harmless, either.

Even if most of the fighting seems to be outside, he’s not letting his guard down. He’s not convinced something isn’t about to go wrong, or that someone won't be guarding Chris.

…He's perfectly willing to do his best to hurt someone about it if that's the case.

The smell of blood is familiar enough that it’s hard to miss.

(Blood tinged with brine: very familiar indeed.)

For now, all he does is glance at Hawks and pick up the pace. ]

[velocityraptor]

[ As injured as he'd been awhile ago, he's all business now. Hawks' footfalls are steady and firm like he very much knows what he's doing. That's the thing. He does. He hasn't protested Richie's help - he probably can't do this alone right now.

In his movements though, there's no hint at the stiffness in his shoulders from the lingering burn that probably needs him to do a bit more stretching to get things back in order. He hasn't had enough time. This is an emergency.

He's been to the shops too, a blade strapped to each hip and one in a sling at his back. Why he feels the need to carry three blades is not immediately obvious, but he might look more dangerous now than he did with the wings. They're still mostly absent, just the slightly longer stumps peeking out of his jacket that he's finally cut holes into. They're no longer bandaged either.

Hawks doesn't speak to Richie, not because of him but because they're sneaking around. The less sound they make the better. He turns the corner, it's so quiet he's expecting an ambush. His hands rest on the hilts of his swords. Waiting. ]

[telepathicignorance]

(It won't be nearly so satisfyingly climatic as Hawks might have anticipated. The battle rages above and outside but there's not much to be found within the hull.

The smell of blood intensifies, mixes with ...other things. There's a touch of it smudged on the ground in spots. Not enough to be worrying on it's own... if it weren't for everything else.

The interior of the ship isn't exactly big. The trail won't be all that long. It leads to a closed and locked door.)

[withermarked]

[ This feels too easy. He's expecting something to happen.

But when it doesn't, when the hallway is unguarded and everything stays quiet, it doesn't make Faulkner feel any better.

After all, why bother guarding someone if you think they're beyond anyone helping? No, that's a bad train of thought. No use dwelling on what they'll probably know soon enough.

He takes a deep breath, and makes himself try the door.

...Well, it's probably a good thing the fact he's halfway decent at picking locks came up when they were getting ready to do this. ]

I'll see what I can do. Keep an eye out?

[ His voice is very quiet, and he's doing his best to keep all his worry out of it. No time for that. ]

[velocityraptor]

[ Hawks situates himself at the midway point of the hall, hands still on his blades just in case. ]

Yep, I'm on it.

[ The quiet is eerie, but they can't hear much through the door either can they? Everything about this seems like a bad situation. ]

CW: Moderately graphic descriptions of bodily harm

[telepathicignorance]

(It'll take a few minutes of work, but finally the lock opens with an audible click, and the door will start to drift open. The smell that drifts out is like a weight on the senses, a medley of blood and fluids and dying things.

The sound of intensely labored breathing is clearly audible.

Push open the door the rest of the way and Chris is there, chained up, exposed just like in the video Ganon made, bright orange markings and horrendous scars now also joined by hideously gloom darkened veins and purple black bruises. Their abdomen is bloated--possibly organ failure. If Hawks and Faulkner have any chance of saving them at all, there isn't much time.)

SURROUND AREA/GLOOMTAIL

[menaceunleashed]

[thearchangel]

[Well this is monumentally stupid of him. At least he knows that much. After that conversation with Zelda, how can he think any differently? He's banking on technology being the deciding factor - the surprising factor. Plus, he can't just let people go in here alone, especially having seen the state of some of them. No, he won't go charging in. He'll do what he does best.]

[Find a position up and away, and pick off the guards from a nice, safe distance. He'd love to get a shot at this Ganondorf himself, but that's a pipe dream with no place on the battlefield.]

[The approach to the ship, therefore, will be covered. He'll pick off as many enemies from his vantage point as he can. Bound and determined to put at least a dent in the defenses out there.]

[menaceunleashed]

[Well, then, there's plenty of the crew to go around! And...that giant...tigercat? Thing?

Huh. That might take more than a single headshot.]

[thearchangel]

[Oh what the hell is that. That is... huge. Does the captain know about that thing? Well - if he can take it out, he'll report it to her after.]

[True to form, he lines its head up in his rifle sights. He braces, ready to bolt from this position to a new one, if he can't drop it in one go. And pulls the trigger.]

[crack_shots]

The moment she touches down on the on The Desert Wind she's knocked back into gunwales by a dark cloud of familiarity. It saps at her energy and slows her reflexes, leaving her stumbling to regain her footing in time to brace for the follow up attack.

From the moment Ganondorf made his particular brand of punishment public to the whole network, the chartered ship had raised flag and arms, speeding with all haste to Nogard. It was all Zelda could do to hold Darin back until they arrived in sufficient force.

Riju considered slipping out while attentions were focused elsewhere. Itching for round two of a battle that feels painfully unfinished, it's all she can do to let logic take the lead. She lacks the months of experience in this world to cast out on her own. It took an army just to face Ganondorf the first time around, and she has yet to learn how the journey here has affected him, if at all.

Their ship pushed against the headwinds, and the seconds dragged on to minutes and hours before the ominous masts crested along the horizon and lumbered into view. By then, she was ready, target fixed, mouth clenched, and weapons in hand as lines were cast and their crew prepared for boarding.

The hulls cracked together.

And that's how she finds herself here, catching the blade of one of Ganondorf's phantoms before it completely overwhelms her with the gloom that flows unbidden with every step.

GANONDORF FIGHT DIRECTLY

[menaceunleashed]

[menaceunleashed]

[Don't keep me waiting, Ganondorf had taunted.

The King waits on the shoreline by the ship, trusting that his crew can - for the moment - handle anything he can't. He's even left a bit of insurance in the shape of one Gloom-ified warrior cat, tigerlike in size and prowling the upperdeck.

He watches the sun set on the water's horizon, arms across his chest as he watches a pinprick of movement out of his peripheral vision.

Finally.

This ends tonight.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[From the moment Darin saw the recording, his blood has been boiling over. It's taken him every ounce of patience and willpower to listen to Zelda. To wait, to meet up, to get a ship. Darin would have swam here at this point.]

[He paid for the boat up front, full cost. It didn't matter. The odds of it being destroyed were high. Hell, he was planning on beating Ganondorf with it, if it came down to it. He didn't care.]

[Unfortunately, seeing the giant bastard so calmly waiting after brutally dispatching someone Darin believed was a friend sets his fire off anew entirely. He doesn't wait until the boat gets close to the shore.]

[He leaps right off of the ship, sending the front of the boat dangerously low into the water, then he crashes down on the beach with a deafening BOOM.]

GANONDORF!!

[He's not in the frame of mind for banter. He's marching up the shoreline.]

[menaceunleashed]

[Ganondorf gives a cursory glance to the other figures in the boat before his attention settles on Darin. A broad smirk crosses his features as he regards the blue-haired swordsman, tilting his head just slightly.]

Let us get started, then.

[A single movement of his thumb loosens his katana from his side, though he does not yet draw it.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[Curiously, Darin doesn't draw his dao. He doesn't take any stance. He merely squares up, fists balled at his sides.]

Where is he??

WHERE'S CHRIS?! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO WITH THEM?!

[menaceunleashed]

Still aboard. And you saw what I did.

But if you wish to see with your own eyes...you will have to go through me.

[Now he draws the blade in a single smooth motion, letting it rest at his side.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

Yeah...yeah, I saw what you did...

And I'm not letting you get away with it!!

NOT ANYMORE!!

[Darin kicks off the sand with enough force for a tsunami of white to explode out behind him towards the surf. He rockets at Ganondorf like a missile, his frame whistling through the air as he cuts through it. He'd been training a year for this, but in this moment, only pure rage and emotion are driving his strikes. He barrels forward with a right straight, aimed for the enormous man's solar plexus.]

TAPPING IN.

[skyglider]

[On the battlefield, there is no room for doubt. Link approaches the confrontation as he always does, dutiful and strategic: while Darin faces that smug giant of a man, Link holds the line, felling creatures and fending off attacks. Something falls. The battle hits a lull.

Link takes only the slimmest of moments to assess the situation: the Demon King gloats, Darin slumps, and the rest of their party--

Ah. No. He cannot allow this to rest with them, next.

He knows the Demon King only from Zelda's memories and those first few moments beneath Hyrule Castle. His arm seems to ache at the thought -- or perhaps it itches to fight just as much as he does. The distinction does not matter. The blade in hand is not the Master Sword; merely a poor comparison, though better-made than most of what he's had to work with. This distinction, too, does not matter. Once, he fought like a Knight, with honor and some modicum of dignity. These days, he fights like a scrappy mongrel clawing its way to victory, and this will be no different.

Quiet but quick, he charges forward, blade drawn, and if he does not manage to strike the man, he'll at least earn his attention...or so Link hopes.]

[menaceunleashed]

[Movement. Ganondorf only half glances at first, but then-

Steel on steel as the club switches back to a katana, blocking the strike as Ganondorf...

Grins.]

You.

[skyglider]

[Recognition. Good. That makes things easier.]

Me.

[A block. He parries with his sword -- the strength in their strokes is certainly mismatched, but Link is light and quick on his feet, keeping alert for any movement that he may need to dodge.]

[menaceunleashed]

And here I was beginning to think we would never have our battle-!

[He presses the attack, relentless now that Darin has...warmed him up, as it were. That savage grin remaining on his face.]

Rauru's chosen- perhaps you will provide a better match-!

[skyglider]

[Never. Such an interesting word for those whose souls are star-crossed; three slivers of inevitability clashing again and again throughout time, across universes. Perhaps his journey was always coming to this moment, spiraling ever closer to a confrontation that can never truly be avoided.

And yet, this is not his fight -- it belongs to Darin, and Zelda. Here, he simply holds the line.

Link grunts beneath the weight of the assault, bearing one strike after another, dodging where he can and blocking where he cannot. Through it all he feels the weight of his companions at his back. Here, now, he feels it most keenly, the importance of the Sages, the importance of some manner of camaraderie. Strength in numbers. He's never felt it as strongly as he does in this moment, where surety surges above his own humbleness.]

You won't win this.

[Speed is on his side, too; he coils, releasing a spin attack.]