The Art of Corruption [Nadia]

[Aerith]

Indirect Request
--------

The sun was indeed completely above the horizon now, transforming the water from a gold-tinged hue to its more natural blue. She thought she could hear the faint sounds of people stirring, the town nearby coming to life.

"Oh?" Jericho sat up beside her, and she glanced at him. "It sounds nice. Are you staying here for a while?"

Truth be told, she was a little afraid that, despite his assurances, there would be another episode like the one in the Traverse Town bar. And she was more comfortable knowing there would at least be one person nearby she could turn to for help should she need it. But, being who she was, she also didn't want to come off as clingy. Pride prevented her from asking to go with him if he planned on leaving.

But if he was the only friendly face she could find, why not ask to go?

"I'm just curious, that's all." She quickly looked back at the ocean.

[Slash]

Just a few more steps...

[/center]

Jericho could read her easily. He could easily amplify her now, probably skip a step or two...but...he found it distasteful to do that while still having other options. Too artificial. He had no problems twisting the people around her, but that was a different situation entirely.

"I'm not staying for long, no." He looked out at the water as she did. "Maybe three hours at the most. And what are you going to do?"

He then paused, and told her something she had probably never heard based on what he'd learned.

"More importantly, what do you want to do?"

[Aerith]

The Power of Choice
--------

The question caught her off guard, and she was silent for a long moment, unsure of how to answer it. No one had ever given her a choice on what to do. It had always been "Nadia, you will do this. Nadia, you will do that." Choice was a foreign concept to her.

And yet, here was one right in front of her. Right now.

"Well, I... I suppose I'll try to find a way off this place. I want to see other worlds."

Why not ask? Why not?

"Do you think you'd mind if I came with you? You don't have to say yes. I just thought I'd ask."

[Slash]

Well, that bit's over and done with.

[/center]

Jericho stood up and looked at the horizon for a while, then turned and offered a hand to help Nadia up.

"I wouldn't mind. If that's what you want."

So, the first stage was almost over. Well, truthfully, the first stage wouldn't be over until everything was, but he could begin to take his focus off of it.

Now it was time to work on shifting her worldview. He had quite a few ideas for that.

[Aerith]

Does This Make Us Traveling Buddies?
--------

So it was settled then. Rather than keep feeling like she was imposing on Jericho, she would travel with him because of her assertiveness and his partial invitation. She would interpret it as an invitation, anyway. Knowing that he didn't mind her coming along did much to alleviate her worry that he might be getting annoyed with her.

She took his offered hand and stood, brushing sand from her clothes with her free hand.

"What now? Did you have something you needed to do here?"

[Slash]

Actually, there is one thing I should do...

[/center]

"Only one thing," he said. "Follow me. It won't take long."

Destiny Islands was a peaceful place. Compared to many other worlds, it was, in fact, paradise. But all places had a seedy underbelly, and the Islands were no different. The Islands were a place of rest not only for its natives but for various criminal types looking to keep a low profile for a while.

Jericho had recieved a message not too long ago from a man he'd known way back requesting he show up to help with something big. Not that Jericho was going to go for that- not in front of Nadia, at least. No, he would be going because the man in question was a notorious backstabber who Jericho had been indirectly antagonizing. He knew exactly what he'd be walking into, and he wanted Nadia to learn a few things.

Of course, he wasn't going to let on the exact nature of this meeting. It wouldn't help for her to know about his criminal background. Not yet. But he'd get as close to the truth as possible, only glossing over his actions and some of his knowledge about the man.

"An old friend of mine lives here. He helped me back when I was still on the run. He's kind of crazy and I'm pretty sure he ran some less-than-legal operations on the side when I knew him, but I still owe him for getting me out of Twilight Town. He wants me to help him with something, he said." Jericho kept walking as he talked, moving farther and farther into the island- and away from the town. They were entering a more isolated part, a rocky place surrounded with caves.

"He's a bit of a hermit, but don't wor-"

As a sound like thunder rolled through the trees, Jericho stopped. A red flower came into bloom on his shirt, its center a mass of mutilated tissue and torn cloth near his stomach.

This was wrong. Too far from his house. Jericho underestimated his paranoia. He probably patrolled the area around his place regularly.

"Shit. My aim's gettin' off. That 'un was meant fer yer heart." A grey-haired, wild-eyed man stepped out from a cave, carrying an old flintlock pistol. "But what can ye 'spect from this range? How ye been, Jericho?"

Jericho stumbled back and fell. He couldn't speak.

"Tha's good to hear, ol' friend. I got more friends 'round these parts, ye know. They should be here in jus' a few seconds. They must'a heard the shots."

He could vaguely hear footsteps approaching.

"Ye can't speak? The firs' time you seen me in years is th' only time you shut yer damned trap? Tha's a shame."

"Elliot. I...didn't do anything...to you." He tried to keep alert. The pain was horrible, unbearable, but there was something else. Something in him was writhing in furious anguish, attempting to break its way to the surface.

He knew what it was. It was whatever thing's form he could assume, the part of him that had gained such dark power. It had been laying still in the back of his mind before this, like a spider in wait- but now it was ready to surface.

No. If I let that happen, then everything's lost. I'd live, but Nadia would be killed.[/color]

Elliot threw back his head and laughed. "Good one! Well, mebbe ye did and mebbe ye didn't, info's been kinda sketchy. Still, better safe than sorry, ye know. Say now, who's the pretty young lass next to ye?" He stepped closer.

"Hm. Agrabah. Ye'll fetch a high price in the market, darlin'."

"If you do so much as touch her, Elliot, I swear to God..."

"Still a joker to the last, ol' friend. Ye'll have less to joke about when I'm done with yer little Agrabah whore."

Other men were starting to convene on their location. Whatever was inside him could save his life. But he couldn't do that unless he had absolutely no option. His wound wasn't fatal, but it incapacitated him.

Nadia. Can you fight? More importantly, can you kill?[/color]

[Aerith]

Proper Motivation
--------

What had started out as a curious excursion had now turned into a total nightmare.

This "friend" of Jericho's was more than just a little crazy. She had felt it right after he had appeared and shot Jericho. She had felt it while he was talking. But now that he was looking at her, the aura of insanity was so tangible, she could almost literally taste it.

She had seen that look before. It was a look her father had given her mother many times. It was a look many young men had given her, though she had thought nothing of it. Her father's foreboding presence had been enough to warn the stallions off. But now, her father wasn't here. She had never wished so much that he was next to her until right now.

Involuntarily, she stepped backward. Her small retreat, however, only fueled the half-delirious desire in Elliot's eyes. Other men were approaching, too. Jericho was bleeding on the ground, obviously unable to defend himself. She would have to...

I can't. I can't do that. I've never done that. No, no, no!

These were not Heartless or Nobodies. These were flesh-and-blood humans. She had never--until Traverse Town--raised a hand against another human being, much less killed one outright. That had never been required of her.

Until now.

No, just run. Run!

But she couldn't run. That would mean leaving Jericho behind, and she was not about to do that.

Elliot was a lot quicker than his appearance let on. It didn't help that Nadia was frozen in indecision. His free hand of fingers snatched her upper arm and pulled her toward him. Now that she was almost touching noses with him, she could smell the acridness of his breath, see the lunacy clearly in his eyes.

She wanted to vomit.

The want nearly became reality when he shoved his nose into her hair and inhaled deeply. "Ye smell as exotic as ye look, pretty little whore. Before I take ye to market..." Suddenly, she felt his other hand, still managing to hold onto the pistol somehow, wandering up her leg. "I should test ye out, see if'n yer really worth anythin'."

Instinct took over then. Coupled with pure, blind rage.

Elliot had left her other arm swinging free, apparently assuming that she would immediately lie down for him if he suggested it. That was the final mistake of his life. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of a knife, and in the action of drawing it free, she slit Elliot's throat.

He stared at her with wide eyes, blood soaking into the entire front of his shirt. Then, his grip on her arm relaxed, and he fell into a heap in front of her.

She did absolutely nothing for a few beats of her heart, just stared at the body bleeding out at her feet.

"Hoy! She killed Elliot! Larger shares for the rest o' us, eh?"

Other voices snapped her attention back where it needed to be. There were still three other pigs present. She had already killed one. Why not kill the rest?

It was self-defense. Wasn't it?

Asherah's tarot card was spinning in front of Nadia before she thought about it twice. She struck it, blue fragments of her psyche scattering around her. By the time Asherah formed behind her, Nadia's second knife was in her other hand.

"Wha' th' hell is that?!"

A shaft of light briefly surrounded her, infusing her with boosted attack power. And then, she moved. The other goons had no time to react. Her knives struck fast and accurately. Two more slit throats and one torn chest later, only she and Jericho were left.

Blood dripped from her knives, the sound as it hit the ground a harsh booming in Nadia's ears. Adrenaline abruptly left her, leaving ample room for realization to settle in.

Both knives slipped from her hands and clanged against the ground.

She knew she should do something to help Jericho, but shock had her tightly in its grasp. Her mind was reeling, trying to justify what she had just done. But she couldn't.

Her knees hit the ground, and her eyes were inextricably drawn to her bloody weapons.

Breathe. Breathe.

That was all she could do.

[Summary:
Nadia used Tarukaja.
Effect lasts through next post.]

[Slash]

That was entirely worth it, I believe.

Nadia could kill men. She could. It nearly broke her as she realized the massacre she had wrought, but in the fight she had killed with a ferocity which Jericho knew first-hand, killed men who she had not completely needed to kill, and he loved her for it.

Beautiful. My dear Nadia, you were beautiful.
[/color] But he couldn't tell her that, no. He tried to stand up, gaining balance slowly- the wound hurt quite horribly. However, whatever was inside him had quieted as Nadia had killed his attackers. He stumbled over to Nadia and knelt down next to her.

"Wasn't your fault. You did what you had to. My fault. Just...my fault...got shot...couldn't..."

[Aerith]

I'll Give Being a Nurse a Try
--------

The sound of Jericho's voice startled her into greater awareness. But then she smelled the blood in the air and shuddered. Maybe her family and the rest of Agrabah had been right to exile her. She had just killed four men without so much as batting an eye... at least while it was happening.

Words were a luxury that she couldn't quite grasp at the moment. "I didn't mean... They were going to... He was going to... He... smelled me." She shuddered again, the memory of that breath in her hair still very fresh, and wrapped her arms around her own stomach.

Suddenly, what Jericho said actually registered with her. She gasped and turned toward him. "Shot. Yes, you got shot. You need help. I... What can I do?"

If the bullet was still in there, they would need to get it out, she knew that much. And then she would need some way to staunch the bleeding and dress the wound. For now, she did the only thing that immediately sprang to mind. "I know this will hurt, but the bleeding needs to stop." She pressed one of her hands against his stomach, trying not to cause him any further pain while still stopping the bleeding. She didn't want him passing out from blood loss. He was much taller than she was and would be difficult to move.

[Slash]

Didn't think I'd be teaching proper gunshot treatment today...

He winced as Nadia put pressure on his wound. Okay, time to think. He'd been shot before and knew quite a few people who'd survived gunshot wounds as well.

Was the bullet irritating anything vital? If it was, they'd have to take it out, but he'd prefer not to. Bullets sterilized themselves and their wounds due to their heat when being fired. But the bullet of a flintlock pistol was rather large, and it was in an extremely bad area.

However, Jericho shuddered to think of what could happen if it was just ripped out. Ruptured organs, extreme blood loss, extreme likelihood of unconsciousness or even death...yeah, he'd have to get that fixed by someone who knew what they were doing.

First, to slow the bleeding even more. He moved his hand to the pressure point between his heart and his wound and pressed down, slowing the blood flow even more.

"Don't take the bullet out. The only thing we should be concerned with right now is dressing it, but I'm not sure how..."

[Aerith]

No Other Viable Options
--------

Dress the wound. Right. With what? Nadia looked around, seeing only sand, rocks, and some dead bodies. Perhaps she could make a dressing out of the corpses' clothes. She instantly recoiled from that idea. There was no way she was touching the bodies. Besides, the majority of those clothes were already blood-soaked.

Sand obviously wouldn't do. That would just irritate the wound further and not staunch bleeding at all. And she couldn't leave him or move him to the town to get help.

The way she saw the situation, there were only about two options. And one of them, she wasn't going to do.

That left option number one--use Jericho's own shirt for the dressing. Aside from that one red blossom around his stomach, the shirt was much cleaner than anything else nearby.

Leaving him to keep pressure on the wound, she quickly unbuttoned his shirt, making him move his hand just long enough for her to get to the last couple of buttons and then slide the whole thing off. Her sense of urgency completely drowned out any embarrassment she might have felt in doing something she had never done before.

She quickly tore the cloth into several long strips and then wrapped them around the wound--just tightly enough to maintain pressure and help speed his natural healing process. When she finished, she sat back to examine her work.

"Sorry about your shirt. I couldn't think of anything else." She quickly looked away and picked up a small shred of leftover cloth to wipe her hands as clean as possible.

[Slash]

At least it isn't winter...

[/center]

At least the wound was properly dressed. Even if he had lost a perfectly good shirt over it. His first instinct was to take the shirt or jacket from one of Elliot's friends (whichever one had the least blood, he figured) but of course Nadia wouldn't take so kindly to it.

Oh, well.

"Better to lose my shirt than my life. Thank you, Nadia." Jericho relaxed, a good deal of the urgency gone. He'd have to take it easy for a while, but he'd be fine.

"Though admittedly I'd like to get back to the ship and get a new one. I don't imagine you have any objections?"

[Aerith]

Best Not to Linger
--------

Now that the worst was past, Nadia could relax just a bit. She did not have any problems with going straight back to the ship. The sooner they left this scene, the better. It might take a while, but eventually, she would get the images of this massacre out of her head.

They needed to leave. She looked down at her knives and reluctantly picked them up, wiping the blood off before replacing them in the sheaths at her hips.

"You're welcome." She finally found the mental strength to stand, albeit shakily. "And no, I don't have any objections."

Turning, she offered him her hand. "I don't think I want to stay here any longer."

[Slash]

With that, we leave.

[/center]

Jericho took Nadia's hand and lifted himself up. This had gone both worse and better than expected. On one hand, Nadia had killed men, gotten a taste of blood. Jericho knew from experience that after you passed that point, it quickly became less of a problem.

On the other hand, he still had a bullet wound in his torso. So...yeah.

Without further ado, they made their way back to the ship. Now, where to go next...