Requiem Aeternam

[Claire Gallows]

Wednesday, June 17th

“You're the one who makes me come runnin'
You're the sun who makes me shine
When you're around, I'm always laughin'
I want to make you mine”

Mach sang along to the music that played from his cell phone over his cochlear implant while he moved and grooved through Serah's beach-side house, broom in hand as he was apparently cleaning. Why was he cleaning so late at night? Because no one else was home of course! So it was the best time to get this done.

“I close my eyes and see you before me
Think I would die if you were to ignore me
A fool could see just how much I adore you
I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you”

He sang into the end of the broom as he swept, swept, swept along; a grin pulling on him as TGoW joined in on the madness. The ferret danced and pranced about like a loon with the hunter who was for all observations just singing the song from memory as there was no sort of headphone or ear bud to be seen. Nope, bluetoothed directly into his skull!

“I don't want... anybody else
When I think about You, I touch myself
O~oh, I don't want anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no!”*

It was damn late and Serah had came straight home after Ampersand. Too much work was put in tonight. Really she wasn't sure if Race realized how much stuff she did on 'off hours'. Besides, of course, advertising. A bag was carried against her chest as she made her way super quietly through the door and barely made it inside before she heard singing. There was a few blinks. That was Mach singing. The first thing she heard? 'When I think about you, I touch myself.' For a moment she just stood in the doorway, a bit dumbfounded by what she heard. It was only a moment and then she was quietly giggling. Oh man that was just...just..bad! SO bad!

She made a spectacle of dropping her keys into the bowl and shutting the door loudly. She was home! Magnus came running by, meowling something fierce as he dove between her ankles. "Did I forget to turn on the laptop before I left? Sorry!"

The man had installed no shortage of passive monitoring wards around the perimeter to let him know of approaching individuals long before they ever got on the property much less through the front door. Of course he had made exceptions to its alert protocol for Serah and a few known associates who came over often... which seemed to be an oversight at this moment. The man was mid-turn, a flourish of that broom turned mike. “I forget myself, I want you to remiiiee!” He nearly dropped the broom as blues snapped to the sound of those keys hitting the bowl, that known voice ringing out. The look on his face? Classic 'oh shit I've been caught!'

“S-Serah!” His tone was a mix of stunned and mortified as his free hand began smacking at his cell phone to try and pause the music player. Was he holding the broom in a swoop? Nope, not anymore as he snapped upright in as natural yet quickly a way possible. “You're back!? Er, well, of course...yeah...um... welcome home!” A cheery grin offered in hopes that maybe she missed him making an ass of himself? Or maybe that she just didn't get a video of such. “How are you?” Oh so natural and quick to try and change subject.

The fae-kitten rushed off with hopes of the internet being its soon and she shook her head either at it or at the clear embarrassed Mach. How hard was it not to laugh out. You just don't know! She just held a sweet lil smile despite her eyes shining with clear amusement. Yes, he had been caught. To what extent? Only she knew! "Yeah I'm back. My feet are killing me!" The whine came out as she offered the bag out to him. "Here you go. Brought you something back."

Inside the bag was four Thirsty Cross Ciders that she had liberated from the crates that she had Levi and Sawyer bring to the Ampersand. Since she couldn't drink any one of them should get to taste it, damn it! While she waited for him to take the bag she pulled at her hair tie with the other hand and soon waves of bubblegum was set free. Time to let the hair down!

Mach so knew he was busted, he could see it written all over the woman's face! A slight tint of red crossed him as he chuckled mildly, his mike... er, broom set aside as he moved to take the offered over bag. “Some good music in this land... catchy. Been soaking it in when I can.” A cheesy grin as he spoke mildly, a finger rising to tap at the side of his head. Did she know he had a wireless cochlear earpiece implanted into his skull? He doubted such, and fought the random urge that made him want to twirl his finger in that universal gesture of 'fruity as a fruitcake' even if that was how he felt he must have looked at that moment!

Moving over to her he gathered the bag quickly from her, blues peaking inside. “Oh~! A gift! You shouldn't have.” Despite himself there was a smile upon him. “Thirsty Cross Cider?” He'd not heard of this apparently as he gave one of the bottles he fished up a quizzical look. The inspection wouldn't last long though as his gaze returned to the woman. “Well, then have a seat! Murderous feet are something I can actually do something about!” He was already moving to arrange a seat and ottoman for her to relax upon.

No she didn't so when he tapped the side of his head a brow slowly crawled up. Fruity as a fruitcake might be coming from her soon if he is making up music in his head and calling it 'music in this land'. Oh Mach. She must of really damaged you when she zapped you last time didn't she? "Yeah. It is a new thing that a couple of guys I met are trying to get out there so I helped by promoting it at the Ampersand and Owl." She shrugged her shoulders as she slipped off the light half-jacket off and tossed it onto the end of the couch.

A few blinks had her watching him as he arranged the furniture and for a moment her brain seemed to be lost. Yeah she knew his magic fingers. She remembered them well. "No, Eli. You should get some rest. I know you been working and- why are you cleaning my house up? Are you that bored?" She plopped down in the seat regardless, just glad to be off her feet. Nevermind her humming a few bars that she had heard him singing.

Ah, no, he hadn't! That was a look he knew well, the 'Mach, what the hell have you been smoking and why the hell haven't you been sharing it' look. He just sort of chuckled. “I have an earpiece implant right into my skull, lets me connect to my phone and listen to secret audio information, have conversations like any other bluetooth headset, or listen to catchy music.” A wry grin at that last one as he set the bag down, that bottle drawn out fully and given the ol' tap,tap, finger gun treatment which had the top flying off up and down into his hand. He gave the cider a tentative sniff before taking a swig obviously not too concerned that Serah would try to kill him by such a means.

“Not bad.” An approving nod as he moved now to kneel at the seated Serah. She had guessed well as the man and his 'magical fingers' now moved to try and snag a foot with the intent of working out the stress and pain in the offended limb. “I'm plenty rested, almost too rested honestly. It's been years since I've gotten repeated, continuous five hours sleep!” He grinned almost merrily at this admittance. Of course at her question he simply chuckled, a shrug offered. “Just like to keep things tidy... and sort of a way to keep my intrusion relevant too, yeah? Can't be too much of mooch now!” And now he cackled. “Have a good night at Ampersand?”

"Sooo you just look like you are having conversations with the air?" She mused as she started to sink down. She watched as he tested out the cider but man she found herself jealous. As much as she wanted one, or any kind of liquor, she was barred from such until Monday. It was going to be a long, long weekend.

She didn't try to fend him off when he went grabbing for her foot but she might of started to say something. Until he started working on it. Groaning quietly she slumped back into the chair. "You aren't intruding if you are welcomed, Mach. Wish you would stop thinking you were intruding." Closing her eyes she allowed her full weight into the chair, soaking in the feeling of his fingers and doing her darndest not to start slipping off to sleep. "It was a busy night. I guess it was okay. Sales were great which I am sure will tickle Race. He is always so worried about small details." An eye cracked open. "Like when I first introduced the neon light paint drums? His first question was how much it cost to clean up."

The man chortled mildly at that little question while he worked on her feet, pushing and kneading at the tension in the muscle as well as into pressure points that should help alleviate pain and fatigue in distant parts of her body. “Does that really seem so off for me? Mad Man Mach talking to himself with his creepy glowing eye?” A wink and a grin at the tongue and cheek humor before he chuckled. Snagging the bottle he took a swig in between work on that foot, an offer of bottle towards her.

At her comment about him not intruding he simply shrugged. “Sorry... bad habit of mine yeah? Not...” A slight thinning of lips as he shook away that thought. A kiss was planted to the top of her foot before he moved on to the next. “Well, just not used to it.” A smirk. “So... Race is a tight ass... guess that's why he's the mogul yeah? Grub and penny pinch till you make it to the top!” He was chortling at this, perhaps the mental image painted in his mind.

She waved off the bottle and shook her head a bit. "I can't." And she pouted. Seriously it was killing her that he even offered! She'd sink into that feeling again, a little snort given but she wasn't going to argue with him. She would squirm, however, at the kiss. Okay so it tickled a bit! "Yeah he is a bit of a penny pincher but when it comes to business, and that can be what he is all about, that is the way you go."

An eye rolled open and she peeked at him thoughtfully. "What has been keeping you? I barely see you anymore. And don't you say it is because I sleep a lot. I sleep normally!"

That refusal garnered a tick of brow from the man. “You can't?” First he heard of such! Another sip was taken of that cider before he set it aside. Out of sight out of mind, right? Of course her squirm did garner a wicked little grin from the man, that bit of information noted and tucked away as he continued with her feet, slowly working his way up onto her calves.

“Yeah, I've never been real good at money or business sense. Was pretty one of the family, not the smart one.” He chuckled at this, a his grin warm. Of course at her next question the humor drained some from the man though there was still warmth in his smile as blues remained upon her feet. “Sorry, work. Been busy with a few cases and such. Trying to tie up a few loose ends before some forced leave.” He smirked at that. “Believe me, would rather be all cuddly with you.” And he offered her a wink and a cheeky grin at that. “I don't think 'normal' is quite the word I'd use to describe your sleep schedule and pattern.”

"Yeah. I was asked to go to the Batten Inc's medical ward to have them do a physical on me. The head requested I stay off of liquor until Monday." She shrugged a bit and slowly squinted at that grin. "What?" No, wait, she didn't wanna know! "My sleep schedule is fine for a night owl, thank you!" But she was now watching him. "F-forced leave? Are you in trouble or something?" Her brows shot up. "You- you aren't in trouble because you are spending your time here are you?"

“Batten...” The name repeated mildly in slight recognition... he knew that name somewhere, he was sure. It was linked to... a busted face? Oh yes, shadow baker girl! “Hmm, a physical... in regards to that kidnapping?” Asked mildly as he worked her calves now, a bend down to plant a kiss on her other foot since he was moving on from it. Only fair, right?

At her question about the leave he chuckled. “Nothing like that. My brother Jon put in a leave request for me to return back to Tang so as to attend my sister's white coat ceremony...” A thought on this as blues finally ticked up to meet her gaze. “It's a ceremony where first year med students get their schmocks... signifies them as truly becoming doctors!” There was a touch of pride in his voice, just a little. “It'll be over a few days... you could finally breath easy not having to worry at all about me popping up!” And he chortled at this as he offered her a wink.

"Yes. Batten Inc is one of the leading companies in Rhydin, you know. Their technology is among the best. Or so I have been told. Truth be the lead of the company is a hottie but his sister freaks me out." She squirmed again and it was accompanied by a small giggle. Was that a little blush at her cheeks? Why yes it was.

Her eyes rounded at the news. "Oh wow! Is it okay if I get her a gift to celebrate her achievement? That is great! I think it is awesome you are going. You should support your family at such a wonderful time. I am sure she will be excited you are making it." She poked her toe at him best she could. "Oh shut up! You know I'll miss you. So when is it?"

“Oh ho? A hottie is it?” Mach grinned at that as he worked her shins as well as her calves, a lean and kiss planted to each calf that he worked one. “I'll have to see this fellow, get a bead on who you find deems the moniker 'hottie!'” He cackled at this, a snag of that cider for a quick draw before he was back to work. “The sister... Katt, yeah? Strange bird that one... good folk none the less. Engaged to be wed actually though I'm certain I'm not invited to that event.” A wry grin at this.

As for Serah's reaction to his news he chuckled simply though perhaps it was a touch forced. “Yeah, that's fine. Will probably raise some hell for me trying to explain it...” There was a smirk at that as he could see it now. 'Here's a congratulations gift from the girl I love but doesn't really feel the same for me... oh, by the way, she's a mage. Surprise!' Yeah... he was sure lying was going to be an integral part of that explanation. “Yeah, well, I suppose. Support and such...” His smile thinned a little at this as he focused upon her feet. Looking for some form of distraction he'd happily latch onto her question. “You'll, miss me? Oh please!” A mock 'pft' face made before he thought on the conversion of dates given that Tang and Rhydin were slightly off calendar wise. “Um... June 26 – 29 abouts... may shave it down some taking an early portal the 27th or something.”

"He is one them playboy types." She flapped a hand as if it wasn't important because really it wasn't. She blinked at him a few times. "Strange bird doesn't even explain that one. I didn't know she was engaged though. Wow." She was completely and utterly impressed. Who the heck would want to marry that one?

The way he put that made her eyes drift down and away. Wow that was a mean, painful jab. Her legs tucked close as if she were getting ready to stand. "Or just, I don't know, say that it is from one of your friends who wants to congratulate her on something amazing." It felt like it came out as a snap but it hadn't. If anything it was meekly spoken. She marked off the calendar in her mind as she carefully stood. "Okay." was mumbled and bowed her head deeply to him. "Th-thanks. I think I am going to go change." Before he could say anything she was already moving off to her room. Yeah a change in clothes would be good.



((Lyrics by Divinyls, Song I Touch Myself))

[Claire Gallows]

“Oh, the playboy types? I see...” A sly grin at that. Did he really not see himself as such? Not in the least it seemed as he seemed to really consider what exactly Serah's type was based off of that! At the talk of Katt he simply chuckled. “True I suppose. Strange sensibilities.... still good folk. Yeah, got a video of the engagement and everything! Happened at a solstice event I believe.” He waved off the exactness of what it was because frankly Mach just sort of figured whatever the reason it really was just an excuse for a party!

Mach noted that shift of her gaze as he spoke, a slight thinning of lips as he wasn't exactly sure what he said that may have been offensive or construed as mean. It all seemed pretty on the level to him. At her words he simply smirked. “Yeah... don't really have friends outside the corps, well, not any that stick around.” A little shrug at that, not really bothered by such it seemed... or at least he'd convinced himself of that. But then it was all by design. There was a slight shift when she'd suddenly pull away, slipping off and along to her room. “Huh.. oh.. yeah... sure.” A gentle smile offered after as those blues watched her move off.

And when she'd disappear into her room he would set to organizing the place back again as it was, that broom put away and the rest of the drinks squirreled away into the fridge. Oh sure, there was certainly a thought and a want to go follow her, but just as the woman had been trying to distance herself from him, he had been letting her despite how much it hurt. He was beside her, in a sense, and that was good enough... right? At very least he didn't want to push her away, to move apart again. And so after he was finished he'd settle down upon the couch, nursing that cider as he thought.

She left the door open so she could listen to anything being said or movement but once she was out of sight both hands went up to rub at her face then up and through her hair until her fingers laced at the back of her head. It took her a bit to collect herself so she didn't start crying. No, she would. She couldn't. Moving herself along she changed out of her night clubbing attire and into a silk nightgown. Course she'd much rather sleep in the nude but at the same time she just enjoyed the way silk felt along her skin. Once the pale fabric was in place she leaned to the door to peek out.

She waited, watching, until he was settled before she slip back out. Since his back was to her she'd slowly pace her way to him. Both hands went over the couch and over his shoulders to hug him from behind, her face buried against his crown. There were no words, just the quiet embrace.

The man's thoughts were somber to say the least as he nursed that drink. Good to see his family.... it wasn't something he agreed with in the least. But then again none of them knew how little time he had left... knew what his plans were. If they did they would surely object but then they were already set in stone, so to say. Of course those thoughts were much more pleasant than the thoughts of Serah, at how close the woman was and yet so very far away. It was a shambling sort of death, a pain of a thousand bleeding wounds... but really all he could do was be there. Push ever so slightly with all the little things he did and just be there. It was the worst sort of odds but then again what more was he to do that wouldn't chase the woman away?

He hadn't even noticed he'd finished that cider so wrapped up in his thoughts as he was. It was only the feel of those arms that snapped his mind back into the present, his form instinctively leaning into the silent embrace as his hands rose to cradle along her arms gently by reassuring. He wasn't sure what this was, but... he didn't want to question it. He just knew it was good...in a sense, and so he'd enjoy it, holding onto her in silence, not ruining things with his words at least for a little bit.

There was so much she wanted to say but she didn't know where to even start. Her eyes closed and she sighed against his hair. "Eli," she quietly started but ended up silent again. "You know it isn't true right? You have friends who care about you. Maybe you just don't want to see it but you do. You have people who care very much for you." She sighed again and turned her hands to softly brush her fingertips against his own.

Was her being a so-called mage a bad thing? Oh right. He hunted mages. That still befuddled her. Here he was suppose to hunt mages and she had caused more damage to the man than she'd like to admit. Frowning she slowly drew her fingers along his arms and along his shoulders until her fingertips fell free of him. "Come see." Meaning for him to get up!

The man smiled thinly at those comforting words, silence still the better answer as he simply let his fingers linger upon her arms. He knew there were some folks that did truly care, he wasn't that dense. If he didn't believe such he wouldn't worry so much about getting those people to stop! Or at least to remain at arm's length... maybe a touch further. But then he knew how few folks he actually counted as friends. It was a number that grew a lot recently... but that was only because the people of Rhydin knew so very little of the hunters of Tang. Not that the people of Tanga really knew or understood the hunters that well either... but they were generally privy to one simple fact: they never lived long, no matter how good or dedicated or careful they were. Something always got to them... and so there was always that thought in the back of everyone’s minds that put a little barrier that helped to keep them just separated enough so as when a hunter met their inevitable end it didn't hurt near so badly. And so in answer to that? All she got was the slightest of shrugs.

Of course then again all his friends that he made in Rhydin were generally considered 'very, very bad for him' by one lot or another. Mach had a vastly different view of course... but then life had shaped him for such. And while it brought him no end of grief... there was still things he was certain he only could experience because of the reckless way which he lived... falling in love with a mage that periodically spazzed out and threw around enough energy to shred his soul likely being top of that list! He'd shift along with the draw of those fingers, almost as if trying to drain as much contact as he could before they left him. But then at those words there was a blink, a sort of 'huh?'ness crossing him though he still complied, form rising as he turned to the pink haired woman, stepping slowly around the couch. “(s)Come see?”

"Mhm." She hummed out and stretched out a hand to him while she stepped forward to meet him halfway. She caught his hand and tugged him close. "I want a hug." Ah yes, that was the plan wasn't it? She wanted and he was gunna give! Or at least that was the plan. No, it wasn't just that she wanted a hug. She just felt like he could also use a hug.

There was a bit of a pause as she turned her eyes up to him. "I will miss you, Mach."

Blue eyes blue followed the movements of the pink haired woman as he moved, a look over that silk nightgown causing a slight pause. Just give him a moment for his brain to pick up it's jaw from the floor. The woman always claimed herself as drab and ordinary but such was certainly not the way Mach saw her. As she snagged his hand he'd start to move again, a gentle smile pulling upon him as his arms wrapped around her. “(s)Oh? Well, you need only ask.” A subtle grin at her as he drew her into him. Did he need this? He would have liked to say no but he knew that would have been a bold faced lie.

Those blues slowly closed as he just lost himself in that sensation, that warmth that was so vibrant. His slowly numbing body reacting to the prodding of his mind, his heart. Blue eyes blue ticked down just in time to hear those words, His expression shifting as he looked away, color rising upon his rugged features. “O-oh...okay...” Smooth.... but then he wasn't feeling terribly schmooze as of late.

“I'll miss you too...” He said quietly into her mess of pink. “Suppose I could always take you with me, introduce you to all the fuck ups that are Turners.” He spoke that rambling thought as a passing bit of humor while he held her. “Brothers and sisters only, pa's in the clink and ma is with some flavor of the month!” He chuckled mildly at his own joke.

Her hands rose up to gently stroke along his back which didn't stop even as he blushed. There was a quiet laugh but it wasn't at his blushing. Rather it was his words. "You do realize you are talking about a fucked up family to me, right?" Hello! Poster child for that right here thank you very much. She thought on the idea, wondering if he really would bring her, but in the end she'd shake her head. "Nah. If I went then you'd have no reason to come back to Rhydin." It was a light little tease of course. He was going to come back, right? The idea caused her fingers suddenly to press against his back.

Slowly down until she found the small of his back before falling from his hips and one would rise to touch his cheek. "Mach. I-" where to start? To say? To do?

He smirked at her words about coming from a fucked up family. Quite the pair they were it seemed! Next they would be comparing 'war stories' from their youth though Mach was positive he was much more a hellion than Serah ever was! While he entertained this poor humor his hands would move along her back, one moving down to keep her firm against him while the other traveled up to toy at the back of her neck and head, combing slightly into her hair. He just focused upon that contact, that touch as he rambled mildly. “Oh? What would be so wrong with that? Running away together yeah?” He chuckled mildly at that. “But then you would miss out on this bitching home and your adoring public.” And now he grinned mildly as he gave her a squeeze.

And finally as those hand left him only to rise to his cheeks, the start and failure of those words? Something pushed inside the man as that mildly glib grin died, a warm smile replacing it as he leaned down. He pressed his lips gently into her, quieting her struggling words but perhaps loosening her lips at the same time as he shared that tender, loving kiss with the woman.

If he knew what she grew up with he'd probably be awfully surprised. He was right though. She would miss her 'bitching home'. It was so much like home. A home that she failed in protecting. It was only a brief moment that she held onto those heavy hearted thoughts. It was hard to hold onto something like that when there were lips against her own. Oh she probably looked quite surprised but she didn't pull away. There was a pause before her lips pressed back to his own. She hummed against his lips but only allowed the kiss to last a few moments. She drew back from him fully, breaking his embrace on her. A little chuckle left her as she lifted her eyes up to him, a smile sweeping across her lips.

They parted as if to speak but instead quickly turned into a grimace of sorts. No. Not now! The pain that tore through her caused her expression to tighten more as she choked out, "E-Eli-" Her eyes were a brilliant white, a sigil that was easy to see rimmed in aqua. It came and went as she pitched back, her hand sliding from his face as her body collapsed back.

Mach would likely never understand such a sentiment as weighed upon Serah, at such an utter loss of her home. He was a single hunter, a simple cog that was small and insignificant in the greater scheme of things in Tang and Rhydin for that matter. There was a hunter before him and when he found his end there would be a hunter to replace him. He could only know, only affect that which was within his limited reach. A small, simple cog looking to turn with another. His hands moved as to try and draw her into that kiss though the woman was too quick, slipping away not only from his lips but from his grasp in all. A sort of wry grin curled upon him as blue eyes blue followed the woman, a little shrug offered in apology for pushing that contact. Even he had yearnings and wants regardless of how much he downplayed such.

He readied himself for those words. What words he was readied for he wasn't sure, maybe several different paths of such with a heavy emphasis on being prepared to be shot down again? Whatever he may have been preparing himself to face it would crumble as he saw that pain flash over the woman's features, a sigil crossing her eyes. No! “Serah!” It was instinctive as he moved to catch her, draw her to him even though it brought her well within touch attack range, within that radius of death that so nearly ended him before. But what was he to do, let her fall? No, that was unacceptable to the man, especially in regards to the pink haired one. He gambled and told her how he felt, pushed his chips all in on her and would do so over and over until it finally brought him his end. But then at very least he was a little more prepared for any nasty chaotic surprise... he was, after all, the man that did try to cheat death while betting all in!

There was no attack but one of her hands rose up to catch a bit of his shirt. Her lips parted but whatever she said it was so quiet that the words couldn't even be considered a whisper, the breath that left her weak. The pained expression faded as her eyes rolled closed, her fingers slowly uncurling and releasing the fabric so that her hand lowered down to her side. She was limp in Mach's arms but this time it was different. There was no rise and fall of her chest to indicate breathing. There was no warmth to the woman he held onto. In fact it seemed as if the warmth of her was slowly, but surely, fading.

Mach held the woman, clutching her as her strength failed her and she went limp from that attack. He was already moving to lie her out upon the couch, will and focus already turning to that artificial eye as he monitored her. But something was different, something was wrong. He saw no rise or fall of her chest, felt even in his failing fingers the subtle loss of warmth. It was a subtle shift that the hunter knew all too well, one that tore into him at the mere thought.

“Serah... Serah? Come on.. Serah!!” He felt for a pulse as his other hand grabbed an ampule, the top snapped off at the contents thrown back. He shuttered as that eye, mildly glowing, suddenly flared to life like a beacon in the subtly lit room. He took a full sweep scan of the woman, her vitals and her ether signatures while he leaned in close to her lips, her nose to feel for even the softest of breaths. “Serah...” It couldn't be her time... could it?

What vitals he might of found were slowly but surely ceasing, one by one. Pulse ever so weak as her heart slowed. Thump. . . Thump . . . She didn't react to his words and if he could check for brain activity? There was none. Thump . . .Thump. . .No breath emptying her lungs. Thump . . .

Silence.

[Claire Gallows]

“Serah... Serah!!?!” His voice took on a pleading note as he saw those failing signs of life, as each one ticked away to stillness. “Come on Serah... don't do this to me... please...” His mind raced as he unholstered his caster, shaky hands changing out the cartridge and one of the cylinders with ones from a special pouch which he ripped off of his belt, the universal medical sign stitched onto its cover. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket he'd stuff up his nose before pulling the trigger, a lazy whine and whir coming from the gun as he set it down slaving it's abilities to him while he essentially became its battery.

“Come on Serah... please love... please...” Hands now moved to strip her of her nightgown revealing the flesh beneath which his hands quickly found placement upon transcending across her heart. A focus of will, a buzz and soft crackle from that whirring caster and he's send a pulse of electricity into the woman in an attempt to restart that heart. “Do-don't think you've spared me any sort of pain by trying to keep me at arm's length... you don't get to choose who hurts because of you...how much it hurts... believe me... because this... this is killing me...” He ground his teeth to try and keep back to tears as he kept reading her vitals, another concentration of will, another buzz and crackle, another pulse to try and restart that heart. “Come on Serah... please...!!!”

Contact! Sadly for his efforts there was nothing on her end that would satisfy the attempts. Not even a quivering of her heart as he strove to give it life again. No beat. No struggling to reclaim her breath. There was no sign of life. Poor, poor Mach did very much witness the end of the pink haired wonder.

The man would continue those 'conventional' efforts for a little longer, another potion drawn from that medical pouch, snapped, and drunk down without care. A shaky breath before he willed the activation of that poison within, a heave racking him as his lung chemistry was suddenly altered. He gave the woman two rescue breaths of pure oxygen rather than the poor mish mash that was usually breath, a rhythmic pulse of electricity from that hand upon her chest used to directly stimulate her diaphragm to work, forcing her body to breath. Another set of contact and he'd force that heart to beat sluggishly to help circulate that oxygenated blood to her brain to stave off the effects of de-oxygenation. He'd repeat the cycle three more times before he hit the limit of his body to scrub pure oxygen from the air, a bloody, heaving cough doubling him over for his efforts.

“Pl-please Serah... please don't... damnit... damnit!!” He croaked with that ragged breath of his from damaged lungs. This was just like with Ellena. No matter what he did, what he thought nothing was changing. He was just so damn powerless... so helpless to save the one that he loved! Fumbling in his pocket to draw out his phone, a quick set of swipes and taps activating that automated SOS – man down, need immediate medical support call to EMS before he tapped over to contacts to try and contact Claire or Sven.

Setting aside the phone while it tried reaching either individual he'd fumble for one last thing from his belt. He didn't know why she had stopped, why this end had come on. No one had told him a damn thing, left him in the dark 'for his own good' or simply because he 'wouldn't understand.' Such thoughts only galled him, pushed him towards breaking down as he pulled forth his last ace. A vial of gently glowing and rolling verdant green liquid, one of the primary black boxes of the hunters: a regeneration potion. Such an innocuous name for something that did so much more... and that held such a heavy price. But then, what more could he do? It was life giving poison... and he was quickly running out of options.

A hand gently caressed Serah's features, tracing along her lips. “Please Serah... I love you... don't leave me like this... please...” The top of that vial was broken off letting forth the fragrance of spring. He gave the dubious liquid a wary glance, a look back to those still features and he'd take the contents of the vial into his mouth before pressing his lips to her, hands tilting her head to clear her throat as he passed that sludgy liquid into her mouth, a gently lift helping it to roll down her unresponsive throat.

There was no warmth to those lips as he pressed his lips to her own and even as the liquid slithered down her throat it would find no way to bring the girl back from the line crossed. Fate, if you would, had taken its claim and wasn't so easily to relinquish the pink haired one back to the living.

There was a ring via the cellphone. Sven apparently had gotten the message and was looking for answers. Claire was likely, well, sleeping! Not to say Sven hadn't been but you know. Things.

That potion did nothing. The drug that kept him ticking, from tearing apart at the seams had no effect, not even a quiver of life. And those cold lips, unresponsive, lifeless as the rest of the woman was yet another slap in the face, of his impotence. Mach was no healer, no mage proper... he was simply an imitator given just enough power mixed with knowledge and cunning to stop proper arcane users. And while he shared many traits with madsci's he did not have their spark, was no inventor of unnatural science that bent reality to the users will. He was just a man given enough power at a high cost to do what must be done, altering him but not enough to fit in anywhere. A monster... and a helpless one at that.

He howled out in his grief as sobs racked him. Unlike the death of Ellena there was no one at fault to level his anger at, no clear and present danger.... just him and the remains of Serah in that house, safe, secure, and broken. The man clung to the woman, wept into her as despair washed over him. He'd almost miss that ring, the attempts of his cell phone to garner his attention. Autonomously he tapped the screen to accept the call, and he hated himself all the more at how well trained a monster he was to still react to that leash even when everything was falling apart. “W-what...” His voice was shaky but he forced himself to real in that shattering mind, attempt to push it to task once more. Blues ticked over the display... Sven. The dog... likely of no use at all but then again they may well have known something anything. “S-sorry. This is Mach.... S-Serah, she... she had a vision and... she has no vitals... no heartbeat, no brain activity... I... I need help...”

There was some grumbling and after a moment, "What do you mean 'what'? You the one who contacted me." The man didn't sound all that great but hey at least he answered. There was a long sting of silence followed by a croaked, "Fuck! Seriously?! Where are you?" There was rustling as Sven fell out of bed. Thud shuffle shuffle! "Have you contacted Claire? Nevermind! I'll contact her. Just tell me where you are and I'll send her right away."

Mach still clung to the woman, as if trying to hold on to her, keep her from death's clutches. He knew what a futile notion such was... death and hunters walked hand in hand after all. Like trying to grasp silt in the tide. His thoughts spun around destructive, trying to match the anguished pain of that heart that just sank cold in his chest. He processed the question, forced himself to consider it over that din of despair and self loathing. A part of what the man said drew a hate filled sneer from the hunter. “Of course I'm serious!” The words snapped with venom leaving no question just how serious he was. Of course he felt bad for snapping right after he did it... but then his emotions were running raw so Sven may just have to get over it.

“Sorry... I-I'm at her place.... the beach house. I've had my phone auto calling Claire just like you.... no answer. EMS has been notified as well... none on scene.” Each thought was a chore as his hand ran over the woman's features, held onto her lifeless form. “Please Sven... please send help...” That was the tone of a broken man in a corner if ever there was one.

If Sven was bothered it didn't sound in his voice. "They probably can't get in there since she has the barrier up. Either way I am going to send you directions. I want you to bring her there. I'll call ahead to let them know you are on your way with her." He could hear the desperation in Mach's voice. He was struggling against emotion and losing the battle. "I'm sorry, Mach. I am. I am sure she didn't want you to be there to see that."

“Just.. just send the directions... I'll have her there fast as lightning...” He pried a hand away from the stricken Farron to release the trigger lock on that caster, a subtle pop sounding as that connection between the hunter and his tool ceased. He was already moving to change out cartridge, the cylinder as he set it up for those taxing teleportations, the fastest way possible to travel. Hearing the other man's' words of attempted comfort only drew a bitter snort from Mach. “Save your sympathy... I-I chose this... set myself up for this... I...I knew what could well wait me at the end of this...” His voice sounded much more collected than it had a moment before as the hunter regained some composure. It was a practiced skill, to push forward when everything was broken, against the worst sort of odds... and Mach, Mach was a veteran of it. “I still chose to be here... by her side... will be until...” He choked on that last word but stifled down the emotion. “until the end... no person deserves to be alone.”

He redressed the woman in her nightgown, one of his long hunters coats pulled from his duffel to wrap her up in to before the man threw back a stamina potion, shoved the phone back into his pocket, collected his caster in hand, and finally took up Serah in his arms, cradling her gently. There was a mild grimace as he linked his cochlear implant to his phone, already moving for the door to take her wherever was needed.

"It wasn't just your choice." that was all Sven said as the phone clicked off. A few moments later there was a text with directions to the elder Farron's estate.

Mach carried Serah along, a pause by the kitchen made to scoop out a large dose of food for the cat and ferret as the last thing that needed to happen was another tragedy of starved pets atop of everything else. With that done he'd step outside, a mild grumble escaping him as he heard the tone of a text message received. He issued the sub-vocal command for the phone to read the message allowed to him through that implant, his mind working sluggishly over details of his route as he tried his best not to think of the cooling form in his arms. And once he had his route picked that caster was raised up, a whiz and a bang sending that first leader round which he counted off before pulling the trigger again, a whir, a whiz, and a shlorping pop would have the man and woman gone and on their way to the elder Farron's estate.

To say that Mach was in a fragile state of mind would have been putting things very mildly. With the woman he loved dressed in a nightgown and wrapped up in his arms with one of his light hunters trenchcoats, cooling slowly as the minutes passed, it took all of his stubborn resilience to push forward one jump at a time. He covered mass swaths of ground with each shift; a pause after each to recalculate where he needed to go next, to fire off that leading round and let it fly before he'd pull the trigger again to cast the displacement spell proper. Traveling across Rhydin with a bang and a schlorping pop it was only a matter of minutes from when he'd gotten off the line with Sven till he felt the odd tingle of his last tracer round impacting something magical... a ward. Of course from this distance he could see the estate ahead.

An adjustment of where to place his next round, a sniffle of that blood that was held back only by the handkerchief stuffed into his nose, and he'd make that last jump. There was the resound of a bullet ricocheting near that front gate to the estate, a moment's peace before where there was nothing there was suddenly Mach carrying the stricken Farron cradled in his arms. The expression on the man's features was grim and stoic, an obvious mask against the torrent of anguish that had been the hunter minutes prior. Without so much as a 'by your leave' he'd start marching for the gate, a sharp look of those tired, cold, blue eyes snapped to whatever guard may have approached. “Mach with Serah, I'm expected. Where's Claire.” His tone was sharp, demanding, a far cry from the lazy, glib tones of the usual schmooze. This was the Lieutenant, the military veteran talking, the last part of the man still capable of rational thought dragging the rest of the idiot with him.

Set outside of the city limits and tucked deep within dense forestry, Caelum Manor was hardly easy to access unless you knew where it was ahead of time. The acreage was hidden away by the natural granite outcroppings and all in all, a safe haven from the insanity that was Rhydin. That said, it wasn't fully immune, not when people Claire cared about teetered so precariously on the precipice of death. Lucky for Mach, the ward was set to a passive defense rather than the sort that blows up in your face. Of course with Sven's call, the elder Farron had been expecting the new arrivals and as such, the gate keeper was well aware that they'd be arriving. Alston Gamble, the poor bastard stuck on night watch at the Caelum's home, was a boy barely of the age of eighteen. Other than the patch of nearly blonde peach fuzz on his chin, he was clean cut if a bit bleary eyed, and he nearly tripped over himself to come stumbling out of the gatehouse. En route, he had smacked the gate's button to permit entrance while fumbling for his radio.

"Your guests are here, Lady Light, sending them your way now." He was met by a crackle of a response, something in the affirmative before he snapped a panicked look to the pair.

"R-right this way Mister Mach, Sir. You'll need this..." Alston rifled through his pockets until he found what he needed and slapped a patch to Mach's upper arm. It looked like a blank name tag, the sort beginning with "Hi my name is..." and left the wearer to fill in the blank. He pointed to the home's front door in the distance, a spill of light from within pouring out to silhouette a figure waiting less than patiently at the top of the steps. "You can port freely now, Sir. Lady Caelum is waiting at the house."

Mach disliked forests, too many bad memories and monsters in general related to such. Give him the hustle and bustle of the city, the throngs of life... though he had many bad memories related to such as well... and what were humans if not a different breed of monster? Such thoughts ticked in the background, a steady stream to keep him connected to the here and now as other parts of him howled in anguish within, screamed at those dead vitals that permeated his mind from the continuous scans made by that glowing artificial right eye. The hunter had to have looked a little silly and a little scary all at once with his nose stopped up with a handkerchief and his breath streaming from the myriad of potions he was running. A tick of those blues was sent to the youthful guard, a slight upturn of those lips offered in as friendly a manner as he could pull off.

“Thanks. Carry on.” A nod was offered to the young man as he began walking off for the estate. Rather than teleport as he'd been doing since he didn't need to try to explain why he was shooting bullets at the woman's estate with her children within he opted to holster that caster, a vial of silvery liquid pulled from his belt instead. With a snap he'd break the top off the ampule and throw it back, a shutter escaping him as his breath steamed even more. And now the man would begin jog for the estate, shifting into a run as that poison worked through his body. He piled on speed quick like a racing motorcycle, eating up the acreage from the front gate to the estate as he cradled Serah's form close to him to protect her from the worst of the buffeting wind. When he'd reach the steps he'd take them in a single bound, landing with a mild grunt as he compensated so as not to shake Serah. “She had a vision and then her vitals flatlined.... she's been unresponsive to conventional and unconventional means of...” His tone had been hard, cold in that military sense as he gave Claire the situation right up to that last part where he choked, a painful pause as he reeled back those emotions that had tried to push out. “...of resuscitation.”

As Mach ran, the gates closed behind him, shutting him and Serah into what Claire considered the closest thing to total safety in Rhydin. Claire met the pair at the top of the steps, backpedaling to ensure he had plenty of room at the top of the stoop. "Inside, go." She went first, stepping in and to one side to allow him entrance. Once in, she shut and latched the door behind him before taking point to lead the way out of the vaulted ceiling topped entryway and into the more confining but still rather open hallway. A stairway leading up to the right was dark and quiet, carrying a barely perceptible aura of passive magic keeping it still. To the left, an empty kitchen carried the dim glow of a single light above the stove. Straight ahead, her destination was a nondescript guest room off the main level's hallway, set with rich cherry woodwork and tasteful, if somewhat generic, decor.

Inside, a bespectacled man in his mid 50's stood cross armed and waiting for the trio to arrive. Mach should have been well acquainted with Dr. Sabbatini, as evidenced by the displeased glower gifted upon the hunter by the doctor. Claire tipped a faint nod to the man and lead Mach over to the turned down bed.

[Claire Gallows]

"Another vision, Doc. This one bad enough to put her down. Flatlined, no revival." She repeated what Mach had just explained to the doctor since he was far better trained in standard medicine than she. "Set her down here, Mach. I need to get a feel for where she's at. What sort of unconventional means are we talking?"

The man knew his place upon these grounds, could feel all the suffocating magic just waiting to crush him at a moments notice. Not that he couldn't fight such if he were so inclined, he had cleared more than his fair share of madsci towers and mages spires in his day, was specifically trained to survive such. But he was here to try and get Serah aid, so save if such was possible, the woman he had let through his defenses. Not that he held any sort of ill will towards the elder Farron.... any such looking about at his surroundings, feeling out of her defenses simply a distraction, a focus as he kept moving forward in the face of such potentially devastating loss.

He'd move swiftly following Claire, blues ticking about until finally they were in that room. Without direction he was already moving to lay the stricken woman down upon the bed, a tick of blues at the man that he faintly recognized. Oh, that was the doctor he had tried to headbutt when he first revived in that clinic. Rather than any sort of typical glib response he'd simply offer Dr. Sabbatini a nod. “Hey, sorry about our last meeting. Things and sorts.” Stated mildly. Cash money estimated rather well for the treatment that had been performed on the hunter during that incident had been sent to the clinic shortly after the man had 'discharged' himself. There was a figure that the doctor had more questions about what state he had been in and what caused it, curious things doctors being, but Mach frankly didn't feel he owed the man that much explanation. He was hardly in the business of telling friends about what problems plagued him much less random doctors in the employee of the sisters to ones whom he had rather close relations with.

At Claire’s question he'd produce another vial from his belt. The bottle held an oddly viscous, glowing verdant liquid within it. It looked... alive, but then again for all that it did it may well have been. “Regeneration potion... bottle of liquid life, can kick start a person missing a few important organs at high enough doses. One of the blackest boxes in a hunter's arsenal... didn't even phase this... this state.” There was a caress issued to Serah's cheek, one last gaze cast by those blue eyes blue before the man pried himself away so as those more familiar with what was going on could work.

It seemed innocuous enough, the home's spell bindings. Set to the tune of thresholds and domicile magic, the bulk of the magic's concentrations were centered in exactly two areas of the house. One, the upper level, and two, the kitchen. Both were of a protective nature but in whole different ways. He might be able to assume why on the latter of the two. Claire however was unaware of his wandering eye, far too intent on getting Serah somewhere that she could look at her.

"It's no trouble, Lieutenant. You're hardly the first to assault my staff and ruin my equipment in the name of freedom. I doubt you'll even be the last." The doctor said dryly, caught somewhere between ire and amusement. He was well experienced when it came to the combative sorts, Hell it was his specialty if you looked at the sorts Caelum Enterprises hired. Doc took up point at Serah's bedside and Claire trailed around to the empty half and climbed up onto the bed, shoes and all. Under an unused pillow she had stashed a nondescript brown satchel, tied off with worn leather strings. Dumping it out into her lap, it was a colorful array of crystals in varying sizes. She glanced up at Mach, her expression grim.

"Give Doc a once over of any other measures you went through. But I need you to step back, the further the better. Last thing I need is for you to get all bleedy-outty on me while I'm working." Claire doubted he would go so far as to leave the room, so she concentrated the bulk of her attention into keeping the spellwork tightly confined, tracing runes and pulling strands of slowly coalescing energy from the air around the crystals.

The man did note the concentrations of those protective wards, and he may well have smirked at the feel of those in the kitchen were these of less dire times. Instead the hunter tucked away the information as he was opt to do, always observing, always gathering. A trained skill that was hammered into his very being. At the doctor's words there was a mirthless smirk. Given that it was Claire whose pocket the man resided within Mach had little doubt his staff was well used to 'special' patients. What did draw a slight quirk of brow was that title that the man used: Lieutenant. That wasn't the most common of knowledge that he was military though not really all too surprising that the doctor would have found such if he looked through Mach's belongings. What was more interesting was the fact that the man referred to him by that rank which said something about the doctor... and made the hunter wonder just how much digging was done using said such information.

Blues would watch as the doctor and Claire set to work, that glowing eye taking in details not typically noticed or even visible such as the weave and churn of the ether as they coalesced into those spells that he then ran through his knowledge base to try and identify. “Defibrillation via electrical pulse as well as administration of O2 and artificially induced respiration. No response noted. Brainwaves flat-lined throughout, no ECT performed as unknown etiology. All measures magic based.” He spoke with the measured pace of one used to giving a triage report, obviously medical training being one of those many random skills the man had picked up. At Claire's instruction to step far back he would actually smirk with some mirth. “I'm not actually allergic to magic. That's just a gross oversimplification that works well enough. Go ahead and weave your spells, I'll be fine.” He spoke frankly though regardless he still braced himself for any strange and exotic magics that may try and draw from him too much. He was, after all, a shockingly large surplus of mana for one who was 'allergic' to magic.

In short, Mach had Claire's paranoia to thank for the invasion into his life more than Doc Sabbatini's savvy. By now it was merely standard procedure to pry as much as possible into the backgrounds of those that tried to infiltrate the trusted ranks of Serah's inner circle. Basic things like full name and trivial military ranks were easy to come by, especially for one so social as Mach. Now where he had come from and just who exactly he worked for were still blanks she had yet to fill out. In a Nexus connected multiverse, that was a little harder to get your hands on.

"Regardless, I won't have time to deal with you if you keel over. So stay on your feet and if you get la-la-la fuzzy, keep the puke or other bodily fluids on the hardwood. Cordellia gets grumpy when she has to clean that shit out of the carpets." Her words were laced with only the slightest tinge of humor, the sort that inevitably bled out when she was under pressure. Of the energy manipulated by her minute ministrations, there were golden webs of healing energy and bronze bits of decay, but of those she touched most, Mach might recognize the purple-black chaotic energy that Serah had caught him full on with at least twice. Unlike the uncontrollable force it had been for the younger sister, the elder wielded it with ease, twisting and fitting it precisely as she needed it.

"Mmkay Serah, it's not your time yet so where're you hanging out." She murmured to herself, and plucked free a clear quartz stone and balanced it gently on Serah's forehead. A second crystal, this one a rose shade of pink that complimented her hair nicely, was set on the lifeless girl's sternum. Tiny arcs of what looked like Elmo's fire began to dance from one crystalline peak to the other, seconds turning into minutes as Claire simply watched. At last the clear crystal filled with a sickly shade of grey, seeping through like spilled ink. Claire frowned.

"Well shit. That's not good." She lifted a hand to press her index finger down on the very tip of the now charcoal crystal, leveraging it downwards enough to leave a faint indentation along the smooth skin of Serah's forehead as well as a tiny prick in the tip of her finger. No blood came though, instead the quartz found itself stained by a thicker touch of chaos, liquid in nature rather than smokelike.

"She's holding on... I don't know how but something's keeping her here..."

Where the man came from would have been easy to discern with a little digging: a world called Tang it would seem. It was only reachable by portal and had an embassy set up and a military run bounty office which Mach worked out of. The world itself seemed innocuous if not rather shaded by secrecy and propaganda against prying interest, a limitation of travel aiding in this as well though there was still friendly relations to be had between Rhydin and there. Of course, even with digging any information on exactly what or who Mach was would have proven near impossible thanks to the fact that the man was, for all intents and purposes, a state secret.

At the warning Mach simply smirked dryly as those blues focused on the work going on. He could identify the feel of the spells, make out the general principles behind them though he couldn't quite grasp the details as with most folks in Rhydin the magic that Claire and Serah used was of a particular sort of strange in comparison to that from Tang. At that known sickly swirl, of chaos that had so stricken him before there was a churn in his stomach, a free hand dropping mindlessly to finger a new vial of what looked like it contained black oil and whiteout... something new brewed, just in case.

Watching everything that happened the man would finally take in a breath, unaware perhaps that he hadn't been breathing, at those words from Claire. She was still holding on. The man felt weak in the knees, could have cried out at even that dismal sliver of hope but all of this was held back behind that stoic mask, the mask of one used to facing loss and having to soldier on. “Something...” He repeated the word, feeling it out. “Hmm... something foreign?” He puzzled through what possibly could be holding the woman here, another distraction, or perhaps a hope to find something, anything to do... to not be so damn helpless in all of this, so impotent. “Is there anything I can do?” Blues ticked to the elder Farron, studying the woman.

Claire pulled her index finger up to her mouth, lips pursing around the pad of the digit until the tiny wound closed. She paused thoughtfully, looking down upon her lifeless sister. "Could it… hmm… maybe..." Her head tilted just slightly, first one way and then the other. "Well, it's nothing of my Making." The final word of the statement hung heavily in her mind as she reached out to pluck up the murky grey quartz. Drawing it to eye level, she examined it closely and shook her head.

"I can't get a good gauge on it. It doesn't seem Rhydinian either, as best as I can tell. It's sure as hell not ours and it feels separate yet dependent on her. Parasitic almost. Here, check it." Once she was sure she had his attention, she tossed the charcoal quartz his way. The essence inside seemed strangely alive, leaning toward the demonic side of the spectrum for reasons she couldn't quite explain. "I don't know how much time she has though. It's just her life force that's holding on, her body... it's..." Claire shook her head, her teeth gnawing at the inside of her cheek. "It's past the point of viability. I need to either get Shae here like an hour ago or... shit... if it's too late for that... well, how're you with interdimensional travel?"

Mach watched the woman, his mind working as he went through all the possibilities as Claire spoke. Foreign, alive, parasitic... it sounded like the regeneration potion but he sure as hell knew it wasn't that. He could feel the signature of that a mile off and for being a black box wonder drug he knew it couldn't do what had apparently been done, certainly not at the dose he had given her. There was a blink at that obvious attempt to get his attention from his thoughts and to the crystal that was sent sailing his way. He'd snag it from the air and lifted it for scrutiny under that glowing blue eye in one sweeping motion.

His expression contorted slightly as he looked at the strange crystal, taking his own particular brand of readings from it, the feel of it, how it seemed to affect and process ether. His other hand had moved to his pocket, shuffling through it to tap through a known sequence until he felt that grating pain in back of his skull telling him that his phone had made a connection and that the readings he was taking off of the crystal were being recorded. He could at very least send that off for spectral analysis if he wasn't able to convince the woman to part with the crystal so he could give it to some madscis to screw around with. Regardless he did feel what Claire spoke of, a slight frown ticking across him as theories formed, pegged upon that cork board of his mind.

He'd almost miss those words about how far gone the woman was, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that he didn't want to hear them. That Serah was, for all intents and purposes... dead. His jaw clenched at that, working hard to stave back the well of emotion, the tears that made those blues glisten yet wouldn't fall. It was like an AS schism but the body had died leaving but the soul, the life force remaining.... yet by the man's understanding such was not state that could last very long. The spirit needed a vessel, plain and simple. And without one... it was only a matter of time before the waveform of life collapsed, the data that was a person scattering back to the ether.

A deep breath was taken, swallowing all this back down before those blues ticked back to the woman. Shae? How was she... no, no! His ignorance to all of this wasn't important, just what could be done to keep moving forward. “I'm golden with inter-dimensional, where are we going?” Stated simply, as if it wasn't even an option that he'd follow after Serah unless there may have been something else for him to do.

With only the faintest spark of her sister's being remaining, Claire knew time was ticking away far more quickly than they could work with and for all intents and purposes, it screwed her plans to Timbuktu. Where ever that was. As angry and upset as she wanted to be, she found herself switching into auto-pilot, quick and efficient in each and every motion.

"We needed more time... Shae was going to take care of getting her a new body... but... I don't think there's time for that." Claire swallowed hard, trying to relieve the desert like dryness in her mouth. She only succeeded in making her throat hurt. Taking a deep breath, she shifted carefully to lean over her sister and in one swift motion brought the flat of her palm crashing down evenly atop the rose quartz sitting on the girl's sternum. It was enough to jolt the lifeless woman's entire body but when Claire drew her hand away, the quartz was gone, as if it had never been. Serah's chest seemed fine, bearing no sign of injury beyond the inevitable that come from repeated chest compressions. It would buy her a little time, further tethering Serah's soul to the broken vessel before them. It was her best shot at retaining her sister's memories should they be successful in bringing her back. At last she looked back to Mach. "We're going to Valhalla."

Mach watched the proceedings with cold yet dim interest, his mind whirring over what he could do. That powerlessness gnawed at him worse than any poison, insidious in its action as it destroyed him from the inside out. Serah was dying... dead save but a spirit that was dwindling, failing. Each moment the woman he loved was fading into the ether, disintegrating. The hunter understood the give and take of the universe, he himself having participated in such exchanges many times before even were he not conscious of such. These thoughts only worked to build more tension within the man, his jaw almost hurting from how hard he ground his teeth.

At the sudden action of driving that crystal into the woman the man wouldn't even flinch. Too many years of seeing weird had dulled his jump reflex, mired his shock. If anything the strange sort of ritual brought to mind something else, a procedure from his own home land. “Soul binding...” He spoke quietly, mildly, an instinct touch of knowledge bubbling forth. Especially at the mention of a new body... pieces started to come together. “How much time do you and Shae need?” He asked bluntly as he began ticking his fingers over that collection of potions, taking stock as he formulated something... something mad sciency that he knew Serah wouldn't approve of... but then she was out of the voting pool at the moment. “I... may be able to help keep her spirit bound to this... this vessel. For a time at least...” He finally explained though he'd not press into the details yet.

And at the mention of that place: Valhalla? There was a strange scratch at the back of his mind, like he knew somewhat of that place. The images of somewhere cold, alien, still came to mind but he just couldn't grasp where or why. A little more thought before finally he shook his head. “Alright. To Valhalla we shall go.” He wanted to ask if he needed to bring anything but he knew that the time to go there was now, this instant if they couldn't even wait any time for Shae to be located and summoned.

[Claire Gallows]

"I'm not sure on the body aspect. We spoke at length about the logistics of it and came to the conclusion that if Shae could manage the body, I could keep her soul intact but with her body giving out on her right here, right now... I just don't know. Nevermind the matter of sorting whatever it is that is clinging or keeping her here or whatever." Claire slid for the edge of the bed, scooping excess crystal into the brown satchel. They were tossed aside carelessly and she circled around to Serah's side of the bed. "Go ahead and go home Doc, you're dismissed for the evening. And thank you." She tipped a nod to the man, ignoring the concerned look he gave her. "That crystal will sustain her and her body a bit longer but it isn't a permanent solution. I...I think I can manage this though, swapping vessels and all. But I need a second person with me." Mach was hardly ideal for such a thing, no offense intended, but at the same time he was perfect. While he cared about Serah, he had little connection to Claire herself. She could almost trust him to be more objective and impartial than she could have asked of say her husband or Zack. "Unless you've got any better ideas, I'll go grab what I need and we can go."

We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Valhalla. Claire had seen a movie once, not long after she came to Rhy'Din, featuring a valiant group of misfits, horses of different colors, and some rather unsettling flying monkeys. Regardless, the catchy little tune bounced around her brain as she left the guest room behind. As she turned the corner, she slid one last look into the room, Serah laying peacefully but rather lifeless on the bed, Mach wearing the worry rather plainly on his expression. Quite the sight. One she never wanted to see again. Making for the stairs, the wards that stood guard over the upper level of the manor gave way to her presence and she passed without issue into the dark above. The nursery was her first stop, pressing the door open oh so carefully to avoid waking the twins. They had thankfully started sleeping through the night by now so when she leaned over each of their cribs to brush a feather soft kiss to each forehead, they barely stirred. Quietly murmuring a soft farewell, she slipped out of the room and closed the door without incident.

Next came her office, a barren room bearing a wide desk, a couple chairs, and a few shelves that could use some more books. The bottom drawer of the desk was locked and it took her a few moments to fumble through her keys to find the right one. Once she did, she carefully extracted a silken bag and shut the drawer, not bothering to lock it now that she had the one item of importance in this last resort endeavour. It took a few deep breaths to get her feet moving again but at last she stepped free of the office and headed back downstairs. Turning into the guest room, she stopped in the doorway. "Time to go. Can you get her or do you need me to?"

Mach nodded a mildly to Claire's words that she had to prepare, those blues barely taking note of her departure as he watched the lifeless woman before him, his hand gently caressing over room temperature flesh. He wanted to scream, to cry, to raise hell and havoc but all of that lay well hidden by that stoic mask that barely trembled over that maelstrom of emotions that rolled beneath. He knew what would happen if he stuck around, forced himself to be at her side. This was to be expected... but how much it hurt, how much it tore at him? He never expected that.

“(m) A little too human little monster?” He smirked coldly at the remembered words from his past, words that turned his attention to his belt of potions, cantrips, magical bullets and more. His fingers ticked about mindlessly, assessing his inventory by feel alone as those blues just wouldn't, couldn't leave the stricken Farron's features. What he had planned was foolhardy at best and outright suicidal at worst but then if ever there was a time that the natural gambler felt the chips were down, that there was a need for thrilling heroics now was it.

When Claire returned he'd barely give her a moment's consideration before he scooped the blonde haired woman back up into his arms, his stomach lurching, falling away at the slump, the cool of the body he held. Yet despite this he pushed down that grief, bottled it deep as he rose, turning to face the elder Farron. “Lead the way.” His tone was drab and drained but still affable.

Despite her carefully practiced calm, every nerve in her body was on edge, prickling with the restraint it took to treat this as impartially as possible. But who was she kidding, there was no such as impartiality when it came to Serah. Not in her mind at least. Save for the slumbering twins upstairs, Serah was the last of her blood family, her only tie to a world lost, and her only hope for some sort of a victory despite it all. Looping the drawstrings of the silken bag around a wrist, she backed out of the room and cut a path down another of the manor's winding hallways. Tucked in the back, far from the high traffic common areas and the staff entrance, their destination was yet another locked door. It didn't require a key however, a simple slip of her fingers over the handle registering her intent and disengaging the ward. Claire shouldered the door open and stepped within then off to one side to let Mach through. Once he was in, she shut it behind him, the locks engaging once more with a series of rapid click-click-clicks.

The room was dim and for the most part empty save for three gateways set at equal intervals from one another. Each was surrounded by an intricate circle of runes cut into the floor, the polished hardwood having been ripped out in favor of the cold stone beneath. Though it was possible to rip open a rift wherever she wished, it took far more energy than she was willing to expend just before such an undertaking and therefore it was more practical to use the pre-established jump points that she kept tucked away for just such occasions. Their target was the third, set to the far right and furthest from the door. The first two hummed with the faint resonance of leftover energy, neither bearing the standard signatures of Rhydin. The third, well that was a different story. It was easy to feel the lingering chaos, well controlled in this environment thankfully, and it limned the edges of the portal as if waiting for an opportunity to reach out. It got that opportunity as soon as her feet met the first circles of runes around the gate, setting them aglow and waking the passage from its slumber. Twinkling motes of black and purpled radiated from the edges and coalesced in the center, spreading to fill the whole framework until it was a steady pulsing pool, patiently awaiting new travelers.

"Take my hand and whatever you do, do not let go until you feet meet steady ground, do you understand?" She asked, her tone grave with the implications of what might happen should he fail to heed her warning. It was no longer playing doctor and crystal witch, they were heading to the big leagues.

Despite himself those blue eye blues took in his environment, plotted his path through the mansion, mapped it and any points of interest. It was that hunters paranoia, that which had saved his life countless times just 'knowing' where things were when he needed to. Never underestimate the importance of being able to put a solid, fire resilient object between yourself and some surprise in a hurry. Coming to that door he watched with mild interest as the door unlocked to the woman's touch, felt the slightest tingle of excess energy that was swept away by the raw waves of such that spilled forth once that door was opened.

Stepping through while ever careful with the woman in his arms he'd take in the small portal room, felt the cool energy of worlds tied together by a bleeding hole. Mach wasn't much for portals, and that one that felt like that rolling chaos, that putrid oil? That was one that he didn't like in particular... and of course it twas the one they were going to travel through. Of course. There was a look to Claire as she gave those instructions, another look back to the whirlpool of ordered chaos and he opted to shuffle the limp form in his arms so as he could pull a vial of what looked like old motor oil and white out from his belt. He gave the new concoction a mild look before he snapped the top off the ampule, the slick and tacky liquid ingested without even a grimace though a rolling quiver did pass through him as he felt that chaos resilience take hold... a safe measure against the magic that nearly killed him last time he faced it head on.

Tucking the empty vial back he'd adjust Serah once more, holding her tightly against him as he held out that hand to take Claire's. A deep breath was taken in, held, and released before finally he gave the woman a nod. Ready or not he was going to follow.

If he wanted fire resistant, he need only step into the kitchen. Hell could come to Rhydin and at the end of the day, the kitchen would still be there. Granted, it wasn't the house's original kitchen... you know, since the first one had been set aflame. But that was all in the past. Way way in the past. The cook had even stopped eyeing Claire warily when she came into the kitchen too. Small victories, right?

The portals he passed each carried their own signature. The first radiated life and light, something fresh and new even without the portal being activated. The second gateway was not nearly as bright and shiny as the first, instead carrying an air of steadfast strength, the sort not easily bent or broken no matter the force. Consequently it was also the most difficult of the portals to open. It didn't so much as flicker when they walked by. The last was the one most frequently used, the floor around it scuffed by sneakers and boots and whatever other sort of footwear she donned each time she made the jump. Sidelong she watched the shift of Serah in his arms, one of her own lifting just in case she slipped at all.

"Each of these take us through the Crux to a different corresponding gate. I've set them to make the trip as quick and painless as possible but if one were to just sort of stumble through without knowing where they were going, well, who knows where you'd end up." She said darkly, her lips thinning to a fine line. Her hand connected with his and she held tight, stepping forward to take the trio through the gateway. At first came a crushing suffocation, though it passed in the blink of an eye, and hey, Serah probably didn't feel a thing. Then the lurch through the Historia Crux, a rapid freefall that slowed just in time to make their stop. Her hold only tightened as she pulled him through the opposing portal and less than gracefully onto the sands of Valhalla. Then and only then did she let go of his hand.

"Here...we are. Don't mind the scorch marks... we uh... had a bit of a fire recently." She waved vaguely toward the city past the beach. Desolate and seemingly abandoned, it was a stone labyrinth topped with sky high spires and all of it was stained black with soot. Or at least, that was her story and she was sticking to it.

Mach took note of those portals, the feeling coming off of each as he passed. How things 'felt' and 'smelled' and 'tasted' were all important to the hunter who had been trained to sense the energy just beneath the flow of the world. It was the one thing that couldn't be implanted, couldn't be gifted by ward or potion.. not really at least. That ability to feel, to sense, to visualize the undercurrent of the ether was one of the key deciders whether a plucky soldier got accepted to hunter training or was returned to basic infantry. Suffice to say Mach's senses were keen, well honed from years of practice though he was still finding all the myriad of new sensations found in Rhydin, off all the differences in magic, dizzying.

He'd grip the woman's hand tight, no word of complaint here as he let himself be lead into the portal. There was a grind of teeth as everything just got turned on it's head momentarily, the world between world having no sense, no rhyme, no reason. It lasted a moment, it stretched out to eternity, but before he knew it he felt the ground beneath his feet. His hand would remain clutching to the woman's a moment longer as those bluse ticked about rapidly, trying to make heads or tales of the sudden change in scenery, at that lack of pressure. When his brain would start working again he'd finally release Claire's digits, that hand moving to help cradle Serah once more as now took in his surroundings with actual interest. “Cheery place...” He noted mildly, an odd sense of deja vu crossing him but he knew not why. “Here.... is suppose to be able to help Serah?” He gave the somber environment an incredulous look.

The beach they had ended up on stretched as far as the eye could see in either direction and the sea beyond went even further. It wasn't water that lapped at the shore though, the jet black tide emanating the most concentrated force of Chaos in the entire realm. Lucky for Mach, it stayed right where it was, a benevolent push and pull at land's edge, never a high tide nor a low, just a steadily drifting sea. The sea, however, was not their point of interest and instead Claire led the way toward the empty city.

"Welcome to Valhalla," she said dryly, casting an amused look over her shoulder. "The last stop for souls before the great beyond. And consequently, yes, our best way to help her on such short notice." Breaking free of the fine sands of time uncountable, she tapped her shoes off on the first stone walkway they met. From there, nigh silent footfalls carried her further into the city, a here and there check over her shoulder verifying that he was in fact following. It seemed there was neither rhyme nor reason to the path they took, twisting and winding as though in an Escher painting brought to life. Thankfully no gravity defying routes were needed despite the random stairs that passed overhead. The city was empty save for the three of them and not once did they pass another sign of life by the time they reached the centerpoint of the landscape.

"Had we had a little more time, I think Shae might have been able to get things taken care of to the point that we could have done this in Chrysalia or even Rhydin. But beggars can't be choosers so here we are." She shrugged lightly and pressed a gentle touch to open the great granite doors of the tallest structure in the land. Flanked by blackened pillars, it held almost an ancient Greek feel to it, a trend that continued once inside the temple. While they could have gone up, up, up, until they reached the sky, it seemed she was taking them down, down, down instead, further and further into the temple's depths until they at last reached the reclaimed throne of the goddess Etro. "So... going to be upfront here. I don't really know what I'm doing. Just kind of... taking a stab at it."

[Claire Gallows]

The man had seen some weird stuff in his day. Really, really weird stuff... but this had to be ringing in the top three spot and would likely have taken number one if the land itself where actively trying to kill him. But since it wasn't number one was still secure in it's position for the time being as those blues ticked about nervously for a reason why or how it may dethrone the ruling champion of screwed up. “You've taken me to a sort of limbo...? And here I thought you didn't like me...” His humor was drab as he spoke, that on edge deadpan of someone feeling a little out of their depth. This place seemed almost like the colloquial crossroads.... the land of reapers from where he came though it was usually described as just sort of being and being dull, colorless whereas here was different in a strange and very uncomfortable sense.

He'd draw Serah close to him, almost protective of her in this strange world as he scanned around for any signs of trouble, only occasionally making sure that he'd not get separated from the other shock of pink in this drab hellscape.When they came upon that spire, entered into it that apprehension only grew. Mach didn't like spires... reminded him too much of bad hunts. He'd watch the environment as it passed, as they descended down until finally reaching their destination... a throne room? He heard Claire's words but they meant so very little to the man so far out of his depth, so ignorant of the situation that he was in. There was a slide of gaze down to those pale, still features... the features that may well be literally driving the man to hell.

“You don't know what you're doing? What exactly are you aiming to accomplish? Is this going to restore Serah to life... an unchained life, not limited?” Each question asked with a growing concern that was probably best brought up while they were still in the comforts of that guest room back in Claire's home.

"Limbo for those like Serah and others from our home, yeah..." She sighed quietly, unconcerned with each item passed as though it didn't present any sort of a viable threat to her or her company. At least not right now. Had it been a few weeks ago, that may be a different story. Regardless, they were as safe as they could be as far as Valhalla was concerned. Unlike Mach though, her humor was lacking, having fallen fully into serious business mode.

"That sea you saw out there? That's like... ninety-nine percent souls. The ones who didn't want to move on. So uh, don't go swimming." Because that was totally a concern. Maybe it was her attempt at a joke, who knew. It wasn't very funny but it was certainly her way of trying to break her own tension. The throne was empty as she stepped up toward it and the seat itself looked far older than the building they stood in. While the building seemed to have stood the test of time, it still held a vague feeling of being a copy, merely mimicking what once was. The chair though, that was the real deal, one of the only parts left of the original temple.

"Well... I mean... hypothetically speaking, it's all up here," she tapped a finger to her temple before continuing, "I've just never done what it is that can be done to get this done. Uh, done. Wait, what was I saying. Oh, that's right. I got the idea from you, actually. Here, set her down first." Claire gestured to the space at the bottom of the steps, a point at which she herself had stood long ago to ask for the goddess's help. "They said that long ago, our people... like, the humans, were made from the blood of the goddess of death. Fashioned into flesh and gifted a heart and a soul, the tiny bit of Chaos within us all that makes us who we are. So... that blood, plus a little um, creativity so to speak, equals a new human body. I'm hoping to have saved what makes her 'her' in that pink crystal, so she'll at least have her memories. Following?"

Rugged features ticked down at that thought, that this was the limbo for Claire's, for Serah's home. It was a morbid sort of thought and perhaps just a little perturbing how he could be walking and talking and breathing while in it. Such just didn't seem possible... a lot of any of this didn't. Mach's pile of implausible was in fact getting really tall as of recent, but then again the man was really good at ignoring the details. So long as none of them would actively grind him to dust or prevent him from moving forward via some other method than he frankly couldn't care less about what was or was not possible.

Take that sea of souls for example... that was insane to the man that one got a choice in such a matter of whether to pass on or not. He was sure there was much more to it than that but it still put the man through a loop. Moving to the bottom of those indicated steps as he listened there was a quirk of brow. “So... you've a thought that you might be able to pull something off but haven't a clue if you can... and somehow I've inspired such!?” The man perhaps would have been expected to sound more perturbed by the fact that Claire was simply 'winging' things, but then again the hunter was just as guilty of such so it seemed kind of hypocritical to call the woman out on such.

Lowering down he'd gently lay Serah down upon the stairs, arranging her as if comfort was a concern for what was essentially just an anchor. Brushing and fussing with some unruly bubblegum pink locks that had fallen before those still features he'd give them one last caress, a kiss pressed to brow before he stepped back, blues shifting between Claire and Serah. At her explanation the man sort of scratched at the side of his head. “So... you're saying this place once housed your god of death... and you hope to use some of their blood and... something else... to create a new body for Serah for her essence to go into... about right?” He watched the woman as he fuddled through what he thought he understood. “So... if this succeeds... would she be granted a normal sort of life?” The man's mind worked through all information, fitting it together and plotting.

It was a whole realm of effed up implausible stuff. Hell, this was what she called "home" some days and it didn't always make sense. The sea of the dead, the beach made of crystallized chaos, the city great enough to house thousands left empty save for those she brought there. It was a lot to process, so she was rather impressed that Mach seemed to be taking it so well. Or his brain was melting, she couldn't tell.

"Calm your shit, man. I got the idea when you were bleeding out all over the street. Well, afterwards. It sparked an old memory, a little rhyme the kids of Pulse once said. 'Come pity poor Etro, she was left all alone. her blood pouring forth, in Chaos to atone.' Well, it goes further than that but we don't really have time for nursery rhymes, do we?" She slanted him a grin, an anxious and manic sort of smile that didn't quite make it up to her eyes. The grin died as she watched him set her sister down, like she were delicate porcelain that could break at the slightest touch.

"No... what I'm saying is it houses currently, like right this second, our deity of death... and life and rebirth, but people really get hung up on that death title. It's really silly, actually. Anyways. It's a whole lot of screwed up blood magic but if anyone can do it, I can!" She said as though trying to instill confidence in Mach. Or maybe in herself, it could have gone either way. Claire took a deep breath and slowly exhaled to calm herself, kneeling at Serah's side to press a hand over her sternum, extracting the pink quartz that had been left there before. "Hypothetically, yes. Everything that Hope could find indicated this was a near surefire way so long as everything goes off without a hitch.

Yes, Mach was very good at handling weird or at least ignoring it well enough that he didn't freak... the ignorance factor helped immensely as well. At the mention of how he inspired the serendipitous thought on how to potentially save Serah the man was, as expected, a little less than enthused. His features, somber as they were, thinned just a little. “Well.... glad my AS schism served a better purpose than just helping change my humors...” His tone was mild though there was a slight touch of humor behind it all, though only slight. Something about poking fun at death while in such a place doing such a deed as they hoped to do seemed like it may have been pushing his rather poor luck a little too far.

Those blues watched as the elder Farron moved about the younger one, listened as she filled him in on the broad strokes of what the plan was. There was a quirk of brow at the mention of blood magic, a slight thinning of lips though this was more because it rang so close to the cases he was pursuing in Rhydin than any more or less disdain for that particular school of magic. His gaze would watch as that pink crystal was reproduced: the essence of Serah... her memories... who she was. At the reassurance that Serah may regain a normal life, hypothetical as it was, the man's expression changed ever so slightly... was that a touch of sadness? If it was it was quickly gone as the man's expression grew slightly taught. “I see. Without a hitch huh.... one in a million shot?” A smirk escaped him though the humor never reached his eyes, not even close as it was lost in the ebb of those thoughts.

A pause fell over the hunter as his gaze shifted to his hand, a tentative flex given as if finding some sort of strength in that little gesture. Looking back to Serah once more the man squared his resolve. “Hey... Claire... talking hypotheticals...” His voice was soft; calm and collected in that way that took great effort. “... would it be possible to remove memories from Serah during her 'rebirth?' Memories of a specific person... of...” The man flexed his hand once more, his jaw clenching as he pushed himself to ask that question. “... of me?”

He almost grimaced at saying that, giving voice to such a destructive thought. It hurt like hell, by the way did it hurt! But he had gotten it out, took the plunge as it were. Shifting his gaze to the woman he'd quickly push on before the woman may well turn and throttle him for suggesting such a monstrous thing without reason. “There is a point why I ask this! A good one... goodish one...” A mild frown found him at that desire to backpedal which he suppressed. “See... I think... I think a part of why we sort of.... got on well enough as we did was... well... because there was a certain understanding of some of the heavy burdens we share... shared... if things go off without a hitch...”

The man was grasping around that topic, floundering as it seemed between his two minds: the one that wanted happiness for himself... and the one that wanted the happiness of those he cared for. He had gotten selfish lately, complacent... wanton of that which he knew he could not have. “What I'm trying to say is...” The man's jaw worked, his teeth grinding. “We... we shared an understanding of the burden of looming death... and what one feels they must do to protect themselves... others from the despair it can bring...” He sucked in a breath holding it a moment before he let it out in a tired sigh. Did the woman understand? No... no it wasn't worth the risk leaving it to chance if she didn't... gods knows what he would do to someone who suggested such about any of his siblings without at least a decent reason for even broaching the subject. “I'm dying. And I don't think Serah should have to deal with that.. not... not so potentially invested as she may... or may not... be...” He fell silent, those words seeming to knock the wind from his own sails as his gaze fell from Claire back to the pale anchor of a woman.

"Should you ask Hope, he said it would go one of two ways. Really well, in which case we're looking at a probability of one in seven hundred thousand... roughly your chances of being struck by lightning in any given year," she snorted, finding a strange sort of irony in Hope's phrasing for such a probability. "or really poorly... so closer to one in one hundred seventy five million." About the shot of winning the lottery. She realized after the fact that this probably wasn't of much comfort to Mach and he'd only made the quip in jest, but she found an odd sort of calm in looking at it from such an impartial standpoint. They were playing a game of numbers, fighting an uphill battle with the odds stacked against them. It wasn't the first time she'd done such a thing, it certainly wouldn't be the last. Quietly she listened to the man make his hypothetical request as she passed through the motions of a ritual made up completely on the fly.

His wasn't a pleasant request though it was understandable. Still it pulled her mouth down into a deep set scowl, an expression that didn't budge a centimeter when she pressed the sharp tip of the pink quartz against her still sister's fingertip until it punctured the skin. The blood in her veins had been still so long that she had to press and squeeze at the digit until her own fingers hurt before it finally produced a small bead of viscous vitae. Taking care not to touch it herself, she smeared the quartz through it, staining Serah's pale skin with a dark splotch of a red so deep it may as well have been black. It could have passed for ink left over from a pen had she not known better. For now she set the crystal aside and pulled the silken bag free of her wrist before she looked up at him, jaw set.

"You're a damn idiot, Elitia Turner." Her tone carried a scolding reproach, going so far as to full name him as though she had any right to do so. She didn't, not really at least, but it came to mind and as such tumbled forth from her mouth without much of a filter. "First, I wouldn't ever make that sort of decision for her. Nobody should do that to someone else without their consent. Secondly, who are you to say how things might change if we're successful? I know you haven't known her all that long but I knew her before all of this crap and she would have cared about you anyways. It's who she is, I'm the bitch and she's the heart." Claire huffed her annoyance and set about patting her pockets down for something that hadn't been there before but should be there now. Another pink crystal, this one cut like a rose and polished smooth unlike the rough hunk used to contain Serah's soul.

"And lastly, and this is truly last compared to all of that, cherry picking things out like that is like... a sure fire way to mess everything up. So, I'm not going to risk that." Carefully she scooted Serah's body to the left just a few inches and shook her head, levelling a heavy look upon him. "If you were in her shoes, would you want her to make such a request? Couple of martyrs, the both of ya, I swear."

"Besides, you're all dying. It's just a matter of when. Have to come to terms with it sometime." If only it were that easy, right? The way she said it so casually almost masqued the apprehension lining her features, muting the tension along her jaw and through her shoulders. A dry swallow failed to relieve her cottonmouth. "Now, if I'm gonna do this, you gotta promise me you'll get her home afterwards. Brand new but full grown if we can manage it, Hope says it'll be like waking up from a two decade coma. Kind of disorienting and rather traumatic, but you'll find the portal back right where we came in on the beach. It's way easier going back than getting here. Got all that?"

[Claire Gallows]

Did those odds really perturb the man? Not really... his job, his life was all about playing against crap odds, pulling out success from the jaws of destruction... or the occasional failure from the jaws of good fortune. He was a natural gambler in all that he did, always trying, always pushing the bad bet. It hadn't done him in yet though perhaps in a way it had... though only in such a way that it left him still capable of betting while still losing in the end. Like it was all just a cruel joke by some sinister and sadistic god of fortune... though the hunter only let this thoughts wander to such on the rare occasion.

Those blues worked to try and avoid what expression the woman had for him at his suggestion yet he still noted what she did, the work done to Serah. He noted that play with the crystal, the bleeding and the other crystal pure and polished. It was all tracked and filed away in his mind by that ever observant hunter even as the rest of him sort of fought with itself over that conflict which it seemed the elder Farron was quick to answer to. At the use of his full name that blue eyed gaze would shift to the woman proper as he listened to her. “Y-yeah... an idiot...” He smirked lifelessly at that moniker before she started to lay into him proper. He heard her words which just struck him like stones, making him feel even more wretched for suggesting such as he did. Felt worse for it... but not wrong. Not wrong at least until that part about how he would feel being in her place which seemed to physically shake the man.

“I... I know all that... but... seeing her like this... knowing how it just rips at me even though there is a sliver of hope that we may be able to save her... how my end won't be so clean... no thrilling heroics or miracle aids, just...” He swallowed down that sick feeling as he could just imagine how truly horrible such would be. “Just... trying to spare her...” There was another mild chuckle at the term 'martyr' but Mach didn't have any more to say at that as he just felt drained.

Of course it was that last reason... farthest down the totem of importance but perhaps top most for the man was spoken. He swallowed hard, trying to clear that crackling dry yet sludged over feeling that clung to his throat at the thought that such a selfish thought may well doom the woman. “Oh... then no... nevermind.” He squared his shoulders some at this, perhaps finding more in that one reason than in any of the others combined. The fact that such a selfish wish could cause this to fail... to make bringing Serah back impossible? That... that was unacceptable. “I'll... I'll deal with such when it comes then...” There was a smirk at that notion of everyone was dying. Perhaps it was even true humor that drove that smirk though it was a fleeting thing. Of course another thought would bring an ever so slightly pleasant upturn of features to those rugged features, an errant thought. “And you're not just a bitch nor she just a heart... seriously... you two really are alike...”

When she moved on to his role in this there was once more that slight frown. Something felt off about how the woman phrased that.. it was very much the way he tended to phrase things, all hunters phrased things really. Give a lot of information about an objection but leave yourself out of any of it... mostly because you were figuring bad stuff was about to happen and you yourself didn't expect to make it out. Regardless he felt that that was perhaps why he was standing here now rather than someone the woman could have actually trusted fully... because he wasn't vested in Claire... he was vested in Serah.

He would offer a mild nod. “Yeah.. I will... I'll get her out of here if things don't just go tits up... you follow my six too... got a family to tend to, yeah bitch?” His tone was mild if not a little teasing, throwing her words back at her and yet at the same time reminding her in that underhanded way that there was something she had to return for.

Sticks and stones, sticks and stones, oh how the rhymes go about sticks and stones. At her best, Claire was a barbed-tongue brutalist and at her worst, she still wasn't one to mince words. Had she been a little clearer minded, she might have thrown in a threat or two to knock him upside the head. If she thought such a thing would soften up that thick skull of his to let her reprimand through. It didn't seem like it fell on deaf ears though, which was good she supposed.

"Mach," she reverted to his seemingly preferred nickname, her voice calming as she did, "I think you're severely underestimating the tenacity of my sister. She claims she isn't strong but she'd have been beat any day of the weak when it comes to what she's been through. A lesser woman would have taken an easier way out by now." Claire said softly, brushing free a strand of pink from Serah's closed eyes. She looked peaceful, like she might wake at any moment with a sunshiny smile despite her overwhelming need for coffee. At least, until Claire crossed the girl's limp arms over her chest like preparing a corpse for burial. When at last her reasoning clicked with the man, she couldn't help the faint tick of a smug smirk that pulled briefly at her lips. He wasn't an idiot, not for that at least.

"You've seen my better side, I wasn't always so pleasant." She said dryly, the self-deprecation clear in the slight tug of her lips. It was an endearing thought that she and Serah were alike, one that she hoped was meant as a compliment for her rather than a dig at her sister. Of all the things she wanted the most, it was for Serah to never have to become what she was, dissociated and only ever partially involved despite full investment. Claire took up the trio of items meant to make this complete, the two contrasting crystals and the soft bag containing something long and thin if a bit bulky at one end, then made the ascent up the steps to the empty throne at the top. It looked to be cut from a black crystal far larger than should have been possible in such a barren place, the jagged edges setting a backdrop to the time worn smooth etchings of the eternal perch. There, she set the two crystals down and knelt before the empty throne to extract the bag's contents. The dagger gleamed in the trickle of twilight that infiltrated the temple, the polished glint standing out against its aged surroundings. It was finely made from pommel to the curved tip and etched in a script recognizable by few living beings.

"Heh. I'll... just need a little time to... clean up. It'll be best to get her out sooner rather than later though. You understand, yeah?" It seemed a reasonable enough explanation, cloaking in soothing reassurance even as his words cut a bit deeper than she wanted to let on. Claire tipped it to one side and pressed the flat against the rough quartz, Willing it to bend to her needs. It shattered under the pressure, releasing a cloud of sparkling motes like a miniature galaxy of newborn stars. "Stay." She commanded like one might do so for a pet dog and sure enough they bobbed and lingered right above the broken crystal.

"Alright Odin, I need one more favor from you buddy." She murmured, almost too softly to be heard. Claire needed no blade for this summoning, taking up the smooth rose shaped crystal in her hand. It was a familiar weight, a comforting lighthouse in a hurricane that told her all would be well despite the storm. It was worth a smile, something small but genuine and a touch nostalgic. A curl of her hand set the next crystal's destruction into motion, the gentle crushing producing a dusting of pink and a softly fluttering handful of rose petals. Rich red, they looked as though they'd just been plucked from a blooming flower. They settled into a neat pile beside the dancing cloud of sparkles, certainly an odd pairing to say the least. Hesitation kicked in at that point, her shoulders sagging and her head bowing as she murmured a quiet oath in a tongue lost to time. The intent was easy to discern; someone grant her the strength to follow through.

"Fell Lindzei, pull her through, grant your wisdom to give life anew." The first deep drag of the dagger down the inside of her right wrist was sure to be done with her back to Mach, the tensing of her shoulders and the tight clenching of her jaw the only indicator that she felt anything at all. "My sacrifice is willingly given in Etro's name, Mwynn's successor and my predecessor. I bestow one life born of equal parts three; the blood of goddess's mantle, the legendary warrior's strength, and the soul of what once was." Her voice shook by the end, the blood pouring freely after a few rapid clenches of her fist. She found it far more difficult to make a fist for the sake of clutching the dagger in her right hand, this time to drag it down the inside of her left forearm. It wasn't nearly as deep of a wound but the two together would be sufficient. Sure there were more efficient ways to bleed out but this, Hope had thought, seemed to be the best balance between offering and chance for survival.

"Effing hell that hurts a lot more than I thought. Just remember what I said, Mach." Claire muttered through clenched teeth, bringing her arms up to let the sacrifice drip over the other components. The tiny motes of light shivered and trembled, quivering with near electric energy when touched with the offered vitae. A tip of her head to one side directed them over to the petals and they swept through the wet mess of velvetine leaves. She had no idea if it would work or how she would know so she focused only on keeping her shaking arms aloft over the stirring hill of lights and fragrant leaves.

[Claire Gallows]

Plop. Plop. Plop. Blood fell of the older Farron but it would never splatter to the ground. Instead each drop broke, shattering into fine dust. A collection indeed of three powers. One by one they disappeared until all that was left in the chamber was silence. Breathe people. It was time that was needed but the air among the chamber would shift, feeling heavy at first but quickly growing lighter. At the throne a light grew, a blind of colors that all at once would burst out, shattering into the air like a million tiny stars.

In their bursting wake, and draped across the throne in a seeming sleeping wake, was a familiar figure at least in face. Long bubblegum pink hair looked snow white under the shifting light. As the light dimmed it was clear that while the body was new it was also, ahem, in its birthday suit. As the last of the twinkling faded the figure suddenly gasped in a breath as if life was suddenly shoved into said form. Her arms flailed out to clench whatever was nearby and her back arched off the throne. The burn in her chest had her recoiling back down as she struggled those inhales and exhales. Her eyes, for the moment, remained closed.

Claire sat back from the throne's edge, dropping her bleeding arms to her lap to hold them tightly against her. Her face was pale, a bit too pale even, and her already low temperature had dropped to something closer to ice. At first she thought it was her imagination that was weighing so heavily on her chest, or maybe she was going to die or something. It could tilt either way. But the spectacular display of lights and colors tore the thought away and replaced it with dazzled awe and a pinch of high lofted hope upon the sight of the newly formed figure before her. Had it worked? She couldn't be sure so she leaned carefully toward the seemingly uneasily sleeping new creation.

"Serah?" She asked softly, her voice wavering with fatigue and apprehension. Waiting with baited breath, she wasn't exactly sure of where to go from here. The second time she spoke, it carried a quiet plea with it. "Ser, can you hear me? Breathe and wake up for me..."

Mach smiled thinly at Claire's words, a mild shake of head. “No... I don't underestimate her in the least...” His words were soft, perhaps more for him than for the woman. He knew Serah would survive his inevitable end... but having to carry such a burden when so involved? That was something the hunter didn't wish, that Eli couldn't stand. It was pure and simple selfishness that drove that desire to preserve the woman, to save her from pain caused by him. It was self-loathing and a feeling of inadequacy mixed with a sense of duty... all things that one would usually ever attribute to the seeming carefree and cocky rogue. But perhaps that was the point.

At the woman's mention of her better side this only garnered a snort from the man. “No one is ever so truly pure or pleasant... particularly not those with a duty...” Mach didn't know a thing about Claire's supposed duty, her burdens... but he knew enough, sensed enough to know that she had a heavy burden, a duty that drove her. The soldiers lot... it was something the hunter could, at least in some fashion, relate with in regard to the elder Farron. Of course knowing some small part of what was going on with Serah made the man only suspect that much, much worse things surrounded Claire and the both of their problems made him seem like a very small and very insignificant cog in the world... but it really wasn't avarice to say one understood a crappy position, right?

Those blues would watch the ceremony as it unfolded before him, hands tucking upon his belt in a natural sort of fashion as he seemed to take on a casual stance. Of course what it really did was put one hand atop of his caster and the other atop that box of cartridges and next to his stock of myriad potions. The way Claire spoke, how she acted... it put the man on edge, spoke volumes of some unknown danger that rode with this ceremony, with what the woman was doing. He figured that bad stuff may well come crashing down atop his head because they were playing about upon a god's throne, that a quick escape may well have been quite in order. Serah was obviously his first priority... but Claire was right up there as well. If anything, Mach didn't figure that Serah would be very pleased simply leaving Claire behind, a sacrifice for her own life... but then that was just the PR bit. For as nasty and monstrous as Mach viewed himself he just wasn't the sort to leave someone behind. It really was as deep and as simple as that.

He watched the woman as she began carving upon herself, no flinch to be seen upon the man as he watched the bloody ceremony. Mach was no stranger to blood magic or blood rituals, he had been seeing quite a lot of such as late. Hell, even a few of his own spells required such an element of sacrifice... but he couldn't help but note just how much was being sacrificed. Mach knew a thing or twelve about blood loss and it's effects on the body as his will pushed that medical scan spell lodged in his artificial eye which glowed just a touch as he monitored the woman from where he stood. Luckily the aid he rendered to Serah earlier had saved all his 'stop from bleeding to death' measures because by the words and the amount of blood that was being let to spill Mach was thinking he may well need those this night as well.

At the woman's words he offered an unseen nod, his gaze never leaving the scene before him. “It usually does.” A mild note about that pain. How did Mach know of such pain? Good estimation likely given some of the fun things that had happened to him in his past. Though at the woman's other words his tone became much more serious. “Yeah... I know... if this works grab Serah and get her out of here.” And Claire too if push comes to shove though that thought was not voiced as he simply watched and perhaps prayed silently to whatever god or gods that he may have believed in. “(vs)Come on Serah... come back love... please...”

That keen gaze that watched all that was happening, almost begging for the ritual to work with the intensity which they watched noted how nothing reacted as it should. The petals, the sparks, the blood... it all just sort of hung there, shifted and danced in the air. And beneath that? Mach could see the spell that weaved in the ether.. or at least just the nuances of such, the broad strokes. The architect of this magic was not human, not even elven or divine. It was far, far too complex to be naturalistic and yet it was just too powerful, too concentrated to be so rigid in its workings. Mach doubted the council of Arch-mages back home could have sussed out what was happening in that weave of ether... which simply meant that Mach was at a total and complete loss.

And suddenly that impossible algorithm would collapse, the spell charged by forces the hunter could not comprehend fueling what the man could only surmise was a miracle. The brilliant flash would blind him momentarily as he dared not look away, dared not even blink as something was created. Through the haze of that light he could see it... see her. “(s)Serah...?” His voice croaked, choked in his throat as finally he took a step forward. Another and another taken as the figure convulsed upon that throne. That hand over the cartridges was already moving to his medical pouch, a spray and a vial of rust colored liquid drawn out and pushed towards Claire almost in passing as he moved to the creations side.

“Spray... drink...” Such a deep explanation of what those two items did and how they should be used! But then again the man was focused at the moment upon that gasping figure. Claire should be able to figure out that the spray was for her arms and the drink was for... well... obvious use, right? If she did try those two things she'd find the spray would burn like sin but could staunch bleeding from a leg stump and the drink? Well, like all helpful medicines it would taste just as it looked but it would take the edge off that severe anemia, kick up her own production of vitae and the release of whatever stores she had in her bones and spleen. This all assuming of course that she actually took those things from Mach as he wasn't stopping on her account, not quite yet.

“Serah... Serah.... is... is that you?” His tone held a pleading edge as well as he came up to the throne, all his will taken not to reach out for the woman. For all he knew that could make everything explode... and Mach most certainly did not want that. And so he would torture himself, keeping himself just at bay so close and yet so far from the newly formed woman until something assured him that his meddling would screw everything to hell or that all hell was about to break loose and he needed to cut and run with the woman regardless the consequences.

Her eyes shot open and where aquamarine should of been was white with shots of silver. Bewildered the eyes darted about but quickly closed in pain while the rest of the body recoiled more inward. The light hurt and it took a few blinks to chase away the sting. Limbs were attempting movement as she shifted here and there, trying to sit up and after a few tries simply giving up. Her body was not cooperating with her. "Whhh-" she croaked out and instantly flinched. Everything hurt damn it!

After a few more panicking minutes she managed to get her breathing under control and eventually was able to open her eyes without the light stinging. Silver eyes focused on Claire at first and her lips quivered out what started to be a question. That is until Mach came rushing along. Her eyes found him quickly, the pleading of both their voices not lost on her. "Whh....Who...are...you?"

[Claire Gallows]

Words. There were words. Pained and slow but they were there.

"Don't touch her just yet," she warned Mach softly in exchange for the medkit supplies. It made her head spin but keeping her arms lifted at least helped staunch the bleeding. It took a few tries but she got the vial to her lips and dumped it back. Tasted less than pleasant but hey, who was she to complain, right? Next came the spray, a spritz across the right arm prompting an instant regret and a tumble of obscenities as she doubled over and pulled her arm close. That stung. Just a wee bit. Once she had stopped cursing Mach to hell and back, she bit at her tongue and repeated the process along the left. Not any better than the first time despite the kick of adrenaline, she shrank down for a few moments until the world stopped spinning. When at last Serah spoke, Claire winced visibly. Not from the pain but from the question. She took a deep breath, Hope had prepared her for that after all. That it could fail altogether or the best they would get is a new life but no memories.

"H-hi Serah..." She looked up to meet her sister's gaze, a few slow blinks taking in the silver that was a far cry from the aquamarine she was so accustomed to.What could she say to that? Hi you were just born, calm down okay? Yeah, no. For now she set aside her fatigue and her worry and edged a careful and soothing calm into her tone. "I'm Claire and th-this is Mach. We woke you up and Mach is going to take you somewhere safe so you can," she coughed quietly to clear her throat, "get dressed and have some time to get your bearings about you. Okay?"

Mach's jaw worked to keep his features smooth, worried and hopeful as it was rather than letting that shock, that pain cut upon the. The question from the woman that looked so much like Serah and yet somewhat off still felt like a freezing blade to the chest. It was perhaps what he had asked for just minutes prior from Claire but to face such unprepared was just heart-wrenching. Still he kept that brave face as blue eyes blue took the nude woman in, noting differences as he'd seen them... don't ask how or why he may or may not know such. He worked to focus on the fact that this creation with the face of the woman he loved yet with such vastly different eyes was at least talking which meant that something had to have crossed. But how much? Or what?

Regardless he wouldn't touch Serah yet but remain where he stood as instructed. If there was any sort of reaction to the sounds, the cursing he heard behind him they'd not show upon the man. He was, after all, very used to folks cursing at him and cursing him in general! At Claire's words to the woman he would simply nod. “Yeah... I'm...” There was a pause as a thought crossed him. A way to start new, to not hide behind that nickname that was epitome of him being the doomed hunter that he was. All he had to do was say who he was... to take hold of his name and... “Mach.” Run away with it like a fricking coward. He kicked himself silently as he watched the woman, a few ticks of that gaze back to Claire to check how the elder Farron was holding up.

Claire might as well of been speaking french with a spanish accent because that was how Serah was looking over to her like. "Cll-Clllairrre." She studied the woman for a moment before looking to Mach. "Mhh-Macccch." She did have the mind to nod to Claire when she asked the question and both legs stretched out slowly. Bare feet met the floor and she instantly shuddered. Like a newborn doe she tried to stand on shaken, unused limbs. A flail and she was likely going down the stairs one way or another.

Catching her was okay right? Right!? Because Mach was sure that dashing her head after a tumble down some steps was not going to do this newly created potential Serah any favors! He moved swiftly, catching the woman in his arms and perhaps flinching just a touch at what sort of boom may well occur. “Whoa there, whoa there... careful luv...” His tone was soft, gentle.

The deep gashes in each of her arms had sealed up, not longer spilling her lifeblood all over the ancient perch. Her jeans and her shirt both looked like they had survived a veritable bloodbath. Oh wait... Well, clothes were replaceable at least. Her legs hurt, her head hurt, and she couldn't tell which was worse, the spinning of her noggin or the thudding of her heart in her ears. Damn thing, such an inconvenience. Claire couldn't quite get to her feet quickly enough when Serah pulled a Bambi on them and went tumbling so she was grateful that Mach was a bit quicker on his feet than she was.

"Good catch..." She exhaled, relieved. It gave her time to push herself up to her feet. No boom should come, not unless something went terribly awry, not that she knew from experience or anything. The presence of Chaos was long gone from the girl, replaced instead by the steadfast strength of Odin's contribution accompanied by Claire's life force.

"Go ahead and take her back. I've got to tend to a few things." Her chin dropped a nod toward the lifeless body of what once was Serah Farron, now cold and forever still.

Mach held the new life gently, comforting. There was a million and one things to ask, to say and yet... none of it was important, not now. Claire was right, he needed to get this one out of here, to some place to rest comfortable and perhaps even familiar. He'd lead the woman towards Claire, easing her down to sit upon the steps. “Wait here a moment... yeah?” A gentle smile was offered to this Serah, that expression perhaps a little too well practiced, a little too convenient. A mask... but then half being out of his mind in joy, worry, and confusion wasn't going to help anything. Straightening now he would set to tending to Claire's arms without so much as a by-your-leave, a few butterfly bandages applied to hold her arms together before he wrapped each up sparingly in medical wrap since he only had one role. Hey, all this stuff he carried on a belt... not like he was expecting to need a proper medic bag or anything! He'd pull out another vial of what looked like orange highlighter ink. He'd press this to the woman.

“Alright, this is a stamina potion... can keep you running and kicking pricks half dead for up to twelve hours in your case. Don't drink it until you start feeling fatigued again.” He gave those instructions now in a bland manner, his tone just as good as any doctors.

“Okay... I assume I can have her rest in that room that I brought her too initially? I'd try to take her back home but I'd rather not carry her all that way just to find that the wards around her house no longer recognize her and won't let her in.”

She slanted a careful smile toward the new woman, her sister she supposed, when Mach led her over. As he set to work, she complied with ease. Claire Farron-Caelum was many things, but seriously suicidal was not one of them and she knew were they not addressed properly, such wounds could prove detrimental to the whole being alive thing. Testing her dexterity with a tap of fingers to thumb once everything was set and wrapped, she winced a little at the pull of tendons but nodded as she took the potion. It was like someone had liquified a hunter's day-glo vest. A little unsettling but she palmed it just the same.

"I'll be okay, really. Valhalla's the best place for me to be right now, I'll be as good as new in no time. I promise." She crossed her heart with a tired drag of her index finger over her chest. The gesture was followed by a soft nod.

"Yeah, feel free to stay if you're inclined. Cordellia knows we might have guests, take advantage of breakfast, trust me." Claire hummed a quiet little sound that vaguely resembled a chuckle. Man what she wouldn't give for a nice steak right now. "She's probably going to have questions... and if she's got anything up there of what she was, it might be slow to come back so don't force it. You've got it in you, it'll be alright."

There was a nod at Claire’s words, his expression mild. He wasn't sure Valhalla was a good place for anyone to be really but he really didn't have much choice other than to trust in the woman's words... or at very least in her stubbornness. “I'll keep the lights on for you at home, yeah? Try not to drink all your good liquor.” And there was the slightest of grins offered as he winked to the woman. Each in their own way was working to deal with this... all of this as they could.

“But yeah.... I'll keep close... be supportive and try not to be so Machish...” And he chuckled dryly at this little joke given that he still remembered when Claire and come once to try and save a crying Serah from an overly pushy Mach. Letting that humor roll a moment longer his expression would finally ease, a soft, perhaps genuine smile finally touching his features as he leaned close to speak to the elder Farron softly now. “Claire... thank you.” Those two words were raw, powerful in their earnesty as they left his lips. Perhaps he had leaned in so close so the woman couldn't spy the look upon his features at that very moment when he spoke them? Regardless as he leaned back he offered her a nod before he was turning now but not to lift up the dozing new life.

No. He moved over to that lifeless body that was once Serah... may well have been Serah. There was no guarantee that what was created was the pink haired woman that he knew, that he loved. Until things settled, until the woman began to recover he wouldn't know. It was torture, a limbo of uncertainty that he knew would gnaw at him until the truth came to pass one way or another. A literal Schrodinger's cat conundrum.

Kneeling down he'd turn his back to Claire and the other as he caressed that corpses cheek, let his mask down for only the dead to see the pain, the grief, the sorrow that plagued him at the thought that this one may well have been the last that he ever got to see of Serah, his Serah. Words were spoken, softly, in a tongue not of Rhydin over the corpse before finally he leaned forward to press one final kiss upon those cold, dead lips. One last goodbye to this Serah that was, that may never be again.

He sniffled, hands moving to scrub at his face, to banish those tears and reapply that mask once more before he turned back, Mach once more on display as he moved over to Claire and the new Serah once more. Now he would scoop the nude woman up into his arms, cradled her gently before he began to move off for those stairs that had lead them down to this temple to begin with, his steps slow as he studied the woman in his arms and gave the elder Farron enough time hollower at him should she need anything before he left this off feeling land of the dead.

"If you touch my scotch, I'll have you know I keep a bear in the guest house." Wryly. The grin said she might be kidding. The glimmer of mirth in her eyes said she wasn't. "But yes, less Machish and more Eli if that means anything. Just be careful, that's all."

She quieted to listen, catching his soft words over the thudding of her heart in her ears. Once they slipped free, she found herself chuckling. "It was as much for me as it was for you. I just... I hope I made it right this time. I've seen her die too many times." Why the chuckle remained was anyone's guess. Perhaps it was just her way of dealing with the past. Maybe it hadn't all been for nothing and Serah of all people might get what she deserved; peace. Claire sat at the top of the stairs as he descended the stairs and she turned her attention away to afford him some modicum of privacy. She understood the need to grieve, to mourn what was and what could have been while weighted by the uneasiness of Serah's life renewed but no sign of Serah as she was.

"Take good care of her." Speaking softly after him, she knew her words would carry just so to meet him without rousing the reborn. The top of the steps remained as her perch until Mach cleared the temple and she no longer felt his presence nor that of her so called sister.

Mach could honestly say he did not understand the Farrons, not Serah nor Claire nor any of what truly plagued them. He had notions, ideas born from scraps of information with the rest filled in by a mind too broken to be assumed as a good historian or judge of character. What he did know is that he could, in whatever limited capacity, be there... for Serah and in proxy perhaps for Claire. Do as he could until... until he found himself upon a dreary, lifeless beach of his own before he returned to that whence he came. “Be more Eli huh...” He smirked at this, an odd bit of humor found. Either the woman was sharp or she had a really good network... probably a little from bin A and a lot from bin B by his reckon.

At those last words he'd pause, a look back as he nodded to Claire. “I... I will...” He may have saluted if he wasn't carrying the nude one in his arms. “I'll catch you later... gotta teach you that one song your rug rats seemed to really like... the bawdy one.” A wry grin was offered as he now ascended, up and out of that temple. He'd make his way as quickly as he could while still not disturbing the sleeping ones rest, returning to where that portal had been. There was a long pause as he turned back to that dead city, watched it from that still beach for a long moment. When he was sure nothing was happening to the elder sister, or at least nothing that he could discern, he'd finally step into that portal, concentrating on it as it dragged him and his charge back to Claire's estate.

"Oh yes, debauchery for the amusement of five month olds." She snorted, rolling her eyes. The smile gave her away though and she nodded after him. Some day he could ask, if he wanted, but it was a lot of Bin B and a healthy dose of paranoia, truth be told. When your sister was a veritable shit-storm magnet, it was to be expected.

In time Claire would be fine, Mach's care and Valhalla's protections keeping her whole despite the emptiness she felt and she watched the pair depart, her breath held until they were gone. Then and only then did she descend to pick up what had been left behind, carefully scooping the shell of Serah up like she had so many years ago when the girl had been branded a fal'Cie. It was a bittersweet pang that rang through her. There was no Focus to complete, no world to save. Claire had given it her best and even then she wasn't sure it would be enough. Not until she was certain that she was completely alone did she take the limp ragdoll of a girl with her out of the temple and through the empty charred city. Far, far from the entry portal they had come through, she stepped out onto the forsaken sands of the Unseen's last stop before the great beyond. Without so much as pausing, she walked right into the surf and continued until it lapped and tugged at the hemline of her shirt. There she stopped and carefully eased her sister's body into the dark waters.

"Your fight is over now... just... just come back to us, okay?" Claire's whispered request fell on deaf ears and as the sea of Chaos reclaimed her sister, she at last felt the pain of the Seeress's Guardian, every single loss and every ounce of soul-rending anguish all at once. It threatened to bring her to her knees, to let the sea take her too but the pull didn't sway her, not enough to keep her from releasing Serah and backing slowly out of the calm water until she could sink back into the sand. It was a painful closing of a chapter, carrying with it the cracking of careful calm and the settling in of deep seated sorrow. At last she let herself weep.



((This collaboration brought to you by the Letter 7, the Number Q and a whole lot of play between Serah, Mach, and lucky me. Thank you both!))