In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
A special thank you to ChasingArtwork of Deviantart, who allowed us to use this stellar banner image.
There aren't enough praises in the world I'd like to give to wonderful coders for the Proboards community. The following have contributed to World Destiny in some way: W3 Schools for countless how-tos and countless of other souls who have helped get WD up to where it is.
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As the man with the red cloak sat on the brick wall, he stared at the starry night; taking in the captivating beauty of the glow from the stars. Usually this man felt loneliness and despair, but today was different. The air had a refreshing feeling and he didn't feel the presence of Darkness anywhere nearby. It was quite relaxing really!
He fiddled through his pockets and finally clutched his gold encrusted harmonica. He brought it to his lips and softly blew through the instrument. Each breath brought out a melodic and peaceful tune, that brought a warm feeling to the area surrounding him. He closed his eyes and let the music move his soul, as he imagined his happy place: being back home with his family.
Truth is, the harmonica itself was once his father's put passed down to him when his father was brutally murdered. It was his only memento of his parents, but recently, he hadn't thought of them much. Instead, he took an interest to a strange girl called Carnation. Maybe, hopefully it's true, he's falling in love. But, he felt that something may come between his crush for her very soon. Maybe even sooner than expected.
Well, having already been totally freaked out by the Second District and told about the Third, Agalia had resigned herself to stay only in the First District. People already scared her bad enough, but the Heartless were even worse. Most of the time, she never wanted to leave the room she was staying in, but she needed some paint, to give her something to do, so, there she was, in the First District, clutching her coat around her and trying to find a shop that would have what she needed.
As she walked around, she heard someone start playing harmonica. She immediately turned to see who was playing the beautiful music and saw a rather handsome young man. Honestly, it was rather disappointing to her that he was wearing the cloak. He looked like he could really take care of a girl. Of course, that also meant that he could hurt one, just as easily. . . and that scared her. She desperately wanted to say that someone who could play such beautiful music had to be sweet and charming, but she knew otherwise. Her father had been able to play wonderfully, too, but she knew all too well what he had done to her.
After a few minutes, she forgot all about her search for paint and was just listening to the music. It was so wonderful. . . she just wished she had someone to dance with. That always made music better. She took off her coat and hung it on a chair, revealing a black, long sleeve shirt along with a good deal of her figure, but no skin or scars, which was why she was willing to do this. She closed her eyes and started dancing. She didn't really care if people watched; she needed a little positive attention. A couple times, she looked over at the man playing the music and smiled, hoping he would notice. At the same time, she was terrified. Part of her wanted to grab her coat back and run, but she had already started. . . she was all in.
Oct 31, 2011 20:52:18 GMT -4
Last Edit: Oct 31, 2011 22:23:32 GMT -4 by nomacaa
While playing his melodic tune, he opened one of his eyes and noticed a young girl dancing to the music he was making. He couldn't help but smile a bit. She was cute, maybe a little strange, but still cute. He closed his eyes and kept on play, hoping that he was pleasing her with his music.
After about a minute or so, he concluded his song and looked at her with her abnormal, yet gentle eyes. "Hey,that was some good dancing. People aren't here wouldn't do that, but you have guts." He smiled toothily to the young girl. He jumped off the brick wall and landed on his feet with a loud thud. Then, after he landed, he approached the girl and kept his silly grin on his face.
"My name is Falsetto, it's nice to meet you," Falsetto spoke softly to her. He didn't want to sound rough or rude to a stranger, so took on a formal approach. "And what might your name be? Probably a pretty name for a pretty girl I suppose." He extended his arm and offered a handshake, still keeping that smile of his.
Oh my gosh! she thought, going completely red as he addressed her. He's actually talking to me! She felt like she was just like every other girl her age for a moment, but, then, she remembered. . . her scars. Suddenly, all of her giddiness dissolved and was replaced by fear. When he approached her, she stared at the ground until he introduced himself.
"My name is Falsetto, It's nice to meet you. And what might your name be? Probably a pretty name for a pretty girl, I suppose."
All she could muster was a squeak, a rather loud one, accompanied by wide eyes staring up at the man. She suddenly realized what she was doing and that her hair was no longer covering the scars on her face and quickly looked away, blushing even harder. She saw his hand, but wasn't really sure what to do with it. At this point, she knew she had made a total fool of herself, but she still wasn't ready to run, yet. He was just so. . . charming and handsome. She instinctively wrapped her arms around herself and would have been pulling her coat tighter, but she didn't have it on. She desperately wished she did, so she could bury herself within it.
She tried to come up with something to say, but nothing could quite form in her mind. She was too conflicted between her fear and her desire to have this man as a friend. In the end, the best she could come up with was to stare at the ground and draw imaginary figures on the stones with her toe and blushing furiously.
There was something about the girl that seemed unusual. She was sort of...keeping something from him and he definitely knew that something was wrong. She opened her mouth and tried to formally introduce, but all she could muster was a high-pitched squeal. Then he saw it; the scar on her face and he realized that that was what the strange girl was hiding.
She hadn't shaken his hand, nor really looked at him in the eyes. It was very strange indeed. "That scar on your face...who did that to you?" he spoke softly, with a concern expression on his face. He didn't want to mean any harm to her as he felt that she is a sensitive girl. "There's no need to hide it really. See my left eye? It's red and the other is brown. It's something I have to live with everyday and to be honest, I fear that people will make fun of it. So, really, you can talk to me about your scar."
Oh no! He saw it! It took everything she had to not burst into tears right then. It was pretty obvious, too. She buried her face in her hands and ran over to her coat, not even hearing what he said after that. She was, honestly, terrified. She quickly pulled it on and held it tight around her when something hit her: he had asked who gave it to her. The last person that had asked her that had been good enough to get her a place to stay and protect her from the Heartless. . . would it be stupid of her to think that he would do the same? She stopped for a second and turned back to the mystery man with the harmonica.
She walked over to him hesitantly and tugged on his sleeve. She looked up at him, being careful to keep her scars covered and said in a hoarse, but still soft, voice, "Help buy paint?" She really wanted him to come with her and keep his arm around her as she buried herself in his side. . . but she was getting way ahead of herself, like she often did. She kept a hold of his sleeve and started pulling toward one of the shops. She started slipping into a daydream, but she didn't really notice. For a moment, she saw Saxen at the end of the sleeve, rather than Falsetto. She suddenly felt safe and all the fear she had of this man melted away. "Come oooon!" She said with the sweetest smile she could muster and a voice dripping with sugar. She didn't even seem to notice her sudden change in behavior, but she knew one thing: she could be happy, now.
Her facial expression changed when he mentioned that scar on her face and how she got it. She ran over to get her coat and put it on. Falsetto felt so bad that he may have hurt her feeling or some sort. A look of disappointment washed over his face, but he didn't walk over to her and bug her about the scar. He just stood there, watching the young girl.
But then, the girl looked at him with hopeful eyes as she hesitantly came closer to Falsetto and grabbed his sleeve. "Help buy paint?" she said softly to the sound user. It was like, her fear of Falsetto had changed all of a sudden and wanted him to be her friend. He smiled to her and said, "Anything you want." She tugged on his sleeve and raced towards a store. He tried to keep his pace with her, but he didn't expect the girl to be pulling him around and almost tripped a few times on the way there.
"Do you think you can tell me your name, before I buy you anything? It would really help."
She grinned happily and clung to his arm as they walked into the store, resting her head against him. Then, she remembered that he had asked her name, again. "Agalia," she told him in a sing-song voice. She looked up at him and smiled, looking into his eyes. They were gentle and showed no intention of doing her harm. She led him around the shop and stayed as close as she could. "Falsetto...tell about yourself?"
((Sorry about the long wait and short post...I've been busy and braindead...))
Such a pretty name for a pretty girl. The fragile girl clung to the man's arm and rested her head against his arm. Falsetto was surprised at first that this young girl was afraid him, then all of a sudden, it was like her fear of the man drifted away and nuzzled against his arm as if he was her protector of some sorts.
Her eyes locked onto his and Falsetto saw the loneliness in them. This girl must've been on her own for a while now and those scars... Someone must've abused her before and maybe that's why she hadn't trust the man at first. He was bigger than her and carried a sword with them...he understand now why she was afraid.
"Falsetto...tell me about yourself?"
"About myself?" He quickly avoided her gaze and stared at the floor. He took a minute to think about his past, hobbies and dreams. He realized that he hadn't had much in his life...there were things he treasured, but they're gone now. After the loss of those precious things, he became an empty shell and succumbed to despair.
"Honestly, I'm just a boring person. I don't really do much and the people I love are gone now. My life is a sad story. Nothing much to it... How about yourself?"
She started grabbing some of the paint she needed as he spoke. He sounded really sad. She was trying to come up with an idea to help him when he returned her question. She wasn't sure how to answer. Of course, he had already asked about her scars, so she could take care of two of his questions at one time. ". . . daddy was mean. . ." she started, clinging tighter to his arm, still holding the paint, "He hurt me. . . lots." She flipped her hair out of her face and looked up at him, showing off her burn scar, but the other was covered by a star of make-up that surrounded her eye.
"I still happy." She poked his side. "You be happy, too. Okay?" She glared at him for a moment and grabbed his arm, again. She dragged him around a little more to get the rest of the paint she needed. Then, she pulled him up to the counter and pulled out the money to pay. As she did so, her eyes went wide as she remembered the other reason she had to go to the store. Her face flushed red and she put the newly bought paint in her pocket as she tried to think of how she was going to pull this off.
His eyes met hers and this time he knew exactly what she meant. Her father, of all people, gave her those scars? A father is supposed to protect their son or daughter, not abuse them. The man's father would never cause any harm to his only son. He may have been strict and sometimes mean, but never hit his son no matter how bad the man had been when he was a child.
"I still happy... You be happy, too. Okay?"
Her eyes, this time, changed into a glare. Did she expect him to be happy? He learned the truth behind the scars of the poor girl; he just couldn't get over the fact that her father did this to her. The thought just saddened him. He questioned what would've happened if his father abused him... But, she was right. Sometimes you just be a negative nelly and try to think of the positive.
"I'll try to, if it'll make you feel better." He wrapped his arm around her as the girl led him to the counter. As she did so, something strange happened. Her eyes widened and her face flushed in red. He tilted his head, wondering what she was thinking.
Post by kokoran714 on Dec 27, 2011 16:04:07 GMT -4
(Please note; Santa's only here during this post)
Santa Claus was flying overhead without a sound, watching the scene unfold. Poor Gale had had such a rough life, and Falsetto as well. These two souls were definitely deserving of presents.
Withdrawing their respective gifts, Santa imagined how the duo would react to the gifts; a heart shaped locket with a picture of her friend, Saxen for Gale, and Falsetto's present was a practical one for him; harmonica polish for his prized treasure.
He deposited the presents into the air, and each fell, their purple wrapping and red bows glistening in Traverse Town's street lights.
With that, Santa flew off to deliver more presents, the sleigh bells jingling in the night.
Dec 27, 2011 16:04:07 GMT -4
Last Edit: Dec 27, 2011 16:04:56 GMT -4 by nomacaa
YES! Of course something was wrong! She was almost eighteen, and here she was trying to figure out how to buy more diapers because she had just wet her last one. She had had issues with incontinence most of her life, but the stress of being somewhere new with nobody familiar just made it worse. And there she was, with a guy she really liked, having bladder issues like a child. . . Luckily enough, for her, she spotted a couple of presents falling from the sky. Immediately, she decided that they would be her way to get his mind away from his concern. "Look! Let's check it out!" she yelled and pointed over at the falling gifts. Then, she grabbed his arm and pulled him out to them.
She picked them up and looked at them, surprised by the fact that they were addressed to her and Falsetto. She looked up at him and handed him his present, quietly saying, "It say for you." Then, she opened hers and looked at it, for a moment. It took her a moment to realize what it was, and, once she did, she opened it slowly and carefully. . . She nearly started crying when she saw what was inside, but, rather, put it around her neck and stuffed it down into her coat.
[Argh! I'm finally posting in this darn thread. ^^' Sorry Nomaaaaaaaa]
When Agaila didn't respond to his question, Falsetto raised his eyebrow in confusion. Judging by her facial expression, she was definitely worried about something, which only concerned him. Hadn't he proved that she could trust him? Maybe it was just something she was too embarrassed to say out loud; that would be understandable. Even so, they did meet only an hour ago, so it wasn't like she would place her full trust in him. Not yet, at least.
Instead of replying to his question, she had changed the subject and forcefully took him outside. Falsetto was surprised at first, considering how quickly she had grabbed and the fact that there were presents on the ground when she dragged him outside.
Falsetto tilted his head in confusion, as he took tentative towards the neatly wrapped gifts. Before he could go and examine the presents themselves, Agaila had picked one of them and handed it over to him.
"It says for you."
"What?"
He stared at the present with a startled expression. A gift... for him? No one had ever gotten him something after his parents were killed. It was almost hard to believe though. It must be for a different Falsetto... but there aren't many Falsettos out there. Hell, I'm probably the only person that has this ridiculous name.
As he slowly ripped it apart, he quickly looked over to Gale to see that she was crying. He frowned at this and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
"You alright?"
As the sound manipulator took a peek at her gift, he noticed it was a locket with a picture of a boy in it. Was this a friend of hers? Maybe her boyfriend or brother? He opened his mouth to ask her who it was, but he felt that she wanted to be alone at the moment.
His attention was back to his gift again and when he tore apart the decretive paper, he almost smiled. It was a harmonica polisher. Sure, he had one already, but he felt grateful to whoever sent him it. Maybe he was Old Saint Nick himself. Nah, couldn't be him. I don't really deserve anything and I think he would know that.
Falsetto, then, puts the bottle in his pocket and wrapped his arms around Gale from behind. Somehow... she was hurting just like him. Maybe her pain was even worse than his, judging by the disturbing scars on her arms and face. How could a father do that to his child? He asked himself this over and over again, until he closed his heavy eyes and rested his head on one her shoulders.
Feb 24, 2012 23:06:07 GMT -4
Last Edit: Feb 24, 2012 23:10:39 GMT -4 by nomacaa
