The Heartless, for the time, cleared from the area, the battling deescalated smoothly. In Glyde's perspective, it had been one of the more decisive engagements the party had had since the outset of their journeys. In his own mind, he could help but find an elusive satisfaction of a job well-done. In fact, he was absorbed into a tightened spirit to the point that he had all but forgotten that Master Thallasa and Taran had bolted off in chase of a kidnapped Hen Wen.
The reminder of their mission there brought back to ground level swiftly. Not without his disappointment in the bittersweetness of their victory, he trudged on in pursuit of the Master, Pig Keeper's assistant, and, hopefully, the pig. "Hmmm..." he set his hand to a rumbling stomach. He held up the wrapped and sealed product Qamar had set in his hand. "I don't know what an 'energy bar' is," he said striding next to Qamar, "But it couldn't hurt to try one."
With a bit of effort, he tore an opening in the package, and proceeded to take his first bit. A bit tough, but chewy at the same time; hints of sweet and salt. Not bad by any means, but certainly a taste to get used to. "Beats being hungry, that's for sure.
"For a pig keeper's assistant, Taran doesn't seem to have much control over Hen Wen, does he? But then, maybe the Heartless are spooking her."
The fighting there appeared to be near an end. Going for broke, Glyde opened with a Shot fired at a Gargoyle as he closed in to deliver a quick follow up strike from his Keyblade. Then near enough to two more, he struck both defeating blows. He then turned and cast Ruin, dispatching another two.
AP: 4/44 HP: 51/85 MP: 3/30 DP: 3/3
Used Shoot. No shots remaining for battle.
Cast Ruin.
((I remember it being said a while back that I was permitted to chain Shots with AP attacks)).
Another time around, and Glyde's fortunes weren't quite up for the task a second time. Gargoyles descended upon him, grazing his back before flying past and rising back into the air. A grunt of discomfort pressed out of the Keybearer's throat, holding strong against the attack.
While a wave of restoring light from Aria helped mend his wounds, Glyde was already lining up his next move. A few Gargoyles circled back to attack him a second time. With an aimed Keyblade, he Shot down one Gargoyle with a pair of consecutive bullets. With two cuts, he took down the two following the first.
For once, Glyde was prepared following his offensive. As Heartless struck out in retaliation, he blocked and evaded their attacks; some with ease, others less so. In any case, a bout of combat without getting hit was a good first step. "Let's try this one!" He called out. Diving into his magic, he cast a powerful, burst of a spell, felling a pair of Invisibles. Turning about, he would continue on to eliminate an Air Pirate as it passed by.
Calling himself off before getting too caught up, he rolled away from his position.
USED DODGE ROLL
CAST RUIN AP: 27/44 HP: 85/85 MP: 15/30 DP: 3/3
Enemies Defeated: 2 Invisibles, 1 Air Pirate
Enemies Remaing:
29 Gargoyles
10 Invisibles
17 Air Pirates
"YUP!" Glyde made an off-handed exclamation, throwing his arms upward, as the young man introduced himself as Taran, the pig-keeper's assistant. He stepped away, a few paces away from the group. "Tried to tell them," he muttered, feeling more than a bit justified in having wanted a description of Taran. There he is; no pig, and we hadn't even called out for him. could have been any other bloke on this world.
After a moment, Glyde's composure found him, and moved back towards his companions. By then, it had been determined that Hen Wen had wandered off, and they (the Keybearers) were volunteered to assist in finding her. The effort didn't take long. After a relatively short walk, they happened upon a pig being tormented by a swarm of Heartless. "Of course, they're here now." He moved in on the fight, closing on a few of the Soldier Heartless. As he neared them, he swung his Keyblade in a circular movement, sweeping through four at once.
Used Vicinity Break (I think I did it right). HP: 85/85 AP: 44/44 MP: 30/30 DP: 3/3
In an involuntary movement carried Glyde's eyes in a slow roll. Was he the only one that remembered how recently they had been lured into consecutive traps? He ruffled his head in a shaking motion, opting not to pursue the argument of his mild paranoia. If they were all content to drop their suspicions, he couldn't stop them; he would just have to be weary for everyone as best he could.
He was relieved, at least, that Illiana was in agreement with the idea of getting a visual idea of the person they were looking for, though Thallasa's response drew out his disdain. "Because people tending to pigs are definitely a rarity in a place like this,"he said, with a hinting sneer as he took a wide look about the landscape. He opened his mouth to continue in a more sincere tone, only to be cut off by a boy's shouting. From the direction of the noise, came scurrying a white-gray furred animal, sent into a fright by the boy in chase. While the animal took refuge behind Aria, Qamar had approached the boy."Well, by the logic we've voted confidence in, Taran would most definitely have a pig along with him,"Glyde chided lightly."So likely not; unless said pig has strayed from its keeper."
Not for a lack of sociability, Glyde had remained in quiet observation of unfolding events. He had held away from the conversation with Dallben in the interest of keeping himself out from between the hostility between Qamar and Illiana; he had already done that once, and it hadn't made much difference. It wasn't until Thallasa had given the two a stern command to stop their arguing that Glyde inserted himself into the matter at hand.
"Just to be sure," he spoke. "Might be a good idea to get a good description of what Taran looks like... in case we find him... well, without him responding to his name. Plus, then it's a little more difficult for someone to fool us."
"I guess that makes some sense." His tone of voice was a mix of quizzical and skeptical, but Glyde, nonetheless, took Take's response as a satisfying answer. "... Maybe it's all been coming around faster than I can a grip on. One day, I'm a no-one on a fringe world, living a menial life. Suddenly I've got the Keyblade, and I'm getting into things I probably shouldn't be, prying open doors better left closed. Next i know I'm, halfway dead on some world I've never even heard of, and waking up days later in a strange castle, and just getting... pulled into a battle that's not exactly mine to fight--" He cut himself off, and shook his head.
"But I'm here anyways..." he trailed off, unsure of how to finish his thought. Giving a deep breath, he walked from living room, bidding Take a good night, and wandered back to his bed. I wonder if I started saying too much.
The remainder of Glyde's night passed with a well-deserved rest. Perhaps it was that he was starting to come to terms with where he was and how he had gotten there, or simply because he was too exhausted for his sleeping mind to conjure any imagery, but he enjoyed a seamless, dreamless sleep. Upon waking, he felt a sort of refreshed that he hadn't felt in what seemed like weeks. More spry than usual, he removed himself from his bed, dressed in full, and stepped out into the common areas. He poked about for a short moment, as he had heard the sounds of others moving about the house. Aria, Torrin, and Take, he found, had all awoken ahead of him. "Ah. Good morning," he spoke, as he ventured among them.
"I mean... I don't know entirely." Glyde's vision wandered, desperately evading direct eye contact; he mostly drifted his gaze out towards the dusk gathering on the horizon beyond the city. When he spoke again, he was looking back towards Take. "My body is fine, strangely enough. I'm just not quite sure how I fit into everything. Like, why the Keyblade, and why me?"
Just another half-hearted attempt at a family tree, poised to break your leaf from their branches when the moment is best for them?
Or more people doomed to perish when you lack the resolve and strength to save them?
Are you growing to care for them? Just a little, maybe?
This... What will you make of it? Hide from it? Run from it? Embrace it? How much longer do you ignore it?
How long will you stay in the Dark?
Somewhere from the fogs of thought and memory, a light was beginning to cut through. The recesses of Glyde's mind were churning, as they had in the past week or more. With each passing plunge into his thinking, he was feeling as though a weight was steadily lifting from within his chest. Feeling a measure lighter in spirit than he had been earlier that day, Glyde rose from his deeply invested state. He blinked, maintaining his stare upon his Keyblade for just seconds more. "It's... I've waited too long," he whispered.
With a slow, craning motion, he raised his head, level with the opening looking out to the city. Then, with just as slow a motion, he brought the rest of his body up. He turned towards the entry into the living room, seeing Take before hearing him. "I'm... good, all things considered. Could be better; definitely could be worse though...
"It's hard to move forward when you're not sure where you're going," he practically blurted out. "Or even where you've been, for that matter. Ugh..." he rubbed the back of his head, as it felt sore all of the sudden. "Everything just feels a bit like a mess right now."
The day beginning to wane upon the scarred, battle-worn city, the Keybears' party made their journey back to the mansion of Edna Mode. Running par for his course, Glyde held to the rear of the group's trek. Arriving back, the mansion casting its gaze over the metropolis from its hilltop perch, Glyde slowed to a brief halt, staring that the house, and then looking back to the city. He howled out a low yawn, and resumed his walk up to the mansion; this particular world's ordeals had left him drained, and considerably sour.
Entering into the foyer, his desire to seek refuge in his own room slipped away from him. Diverting what would have been a route straight to the comfort of a bed, he stepped into the sitting room, dropping into a seat on what had been left of a couch in the previous afternoon's wake. Upon his lap rested his Keyblade; towards this, his gaze came transfixed, and his train of thought immersed.