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.
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Post by Ellie who has 0% on Mar 9, 2011 11:46:30 GMT -4
[It's only pm to join to avoid DEEEATH. You're ready. I'm bringing sexy baaack. >> << *blames Nana for the song*]
Aggravation was the primal element of the harsh swings and whistling of Esmeralda as the halberd sliced the bodacious rounded belly of the Large Body. To weaker opponets, the stomach would seem impenetrable, but if one was as tenacious as Coffee, the stomach would combust like a balloon. She had popped many things and many people; this heartless wasn't going to be any different.
A brow cocked at the little trinkets it drizzeled to the floor. She wasn't to interested in them knowing they were nothing compared to the bounties she obtained in Ivalice. The booty of today was it's heart. Before it trailed into the darkness, she grabbed the iridescent heart as black mist clouds within it making it's beautiful hue dark. Compared to that hume masked heartless, it's mist wasn't so great; the value was low. With a drag of her claw, the heart was marked with drain. Although she had nothing to rid of the heartless complete, she can surely slow it down.
Squatting down, the viera sat up straight. Amongst the bits of munny, there was a shard. Not far from it, a chain lied on the floor. Picking it up she began whipping it around her fingers. "That wasn't fun...."
This place was almost completely devoid of life, except for its residents. There was perhaps one tree in the First District, and a couple of potted plants—as if the inhabitants were doing a very poor job indeed of trying to put some green in their dark lives. Note stood on top of the Second District hotel, oblivious to all the chaos that was happening down below. Or rather, he deliberately chose to ignore it. As long as he ignored the residents here, they might tend to leave him alone—with a little help of his Dark Woods Illusion.
His project today was rather simple. He had seen some hanging gardens in Ivalice, and he pondered what would happen if he tried to recreate something like that here. After observing this building for a day or so, he decided that much traffic did not happen on the rooftop. An excellent choice. A day of collecting seeds and stems from the few plants to Traverse Town may have been worthwhile, after all. Note knew the effects of introducing a foreign species of plants to new worlds—no natural predators would have let the plants go haywire—destroying crops, and being a complete nuisance.
If he were to stay in this dark world any amount of time, he might as well have a hobby to do while he was here.
After burying the plants carefully in mounds, he pulled a wooden flute from a sack on the side of his olive colored plants, and played a bit of a melody . It sang sweet, and almost mournful into the never ending night sky, telling stories of Elysium, the village where he had grown from.
He could already see a few shoots of green yet fragile stalks blossoming from the ground.
Post by Ellie who has 0% on Mar 11, 2011 15:21:35 GMT -4
As she rose, one of her ears started to turn independently. There was hardly anything entertaining to do, and there was hardly any moment where the viera was curious about anything within this boring dull world. Grasping hold of Esmeralda, she began leaping closer towards the sound.
She landed on the upper floor of the Second District leaving the courtyard behind. The sound became even louder as she stood before the Hotel. With her precise hearing she didn't have to look around for it. This gave her time to indulge in the music's content. Her nose twitched at the scent to come along with. Another one!
Crossing them were rare chances in her universal travel. There were four too many vieras here. Well with all due techincalities, there were two. With a short bend, the huntress propelled herself up to the rooftop gazing at the muscian's back.
"And I didn't think vieras were so common here..."
"And I didn't think vieras were so common here..."
Note sucked in a breath; the melancholy melody of the flute stopping abruptly—the last note hanging sourly in the air. Turning his neck so that his dark red garnet eyes, like those of wine, glanced over his shoulder, and over the tree-like scar that had been tattooed into his back as a child, to the being before him.
Though surprised, he kept his face in the image of cool apathy. The rest of his body turned to face her, too.
So Maya hadn’t been the only one to be here. It was indeed, a strange coincidence to meet another—but two was a bit…well, let’s just say he was beginning to wonder if there was a reason to all of this.
“They’re not,” he said quietly, in that strange dual-voice that made him sound older and younger than he was. Though he appeared calm, his muscles were tensed…just in case this female proved to be hostile. There was no such thing as a true Viera out of the Wood. Only the Outcast, exiled…who usually turned out to be sky pirates.
Post by Ellie who has 0% on Mar 15, 2011 15:17:28 GMT -4
"Then it would be beyond coincidental for me to run into two," there was literally four too many, since she had adapted to being detached and surrounded by others. Then again there was no reason to have polarity towards them; in a sense, there was a division being two distinct differences.
Her brows dipped smelling potent earthly incense from the plants. She hummed lowly not too surprised, "You and the runt stink of woods quite a phenomenon just to say you're both here. Then again..."
A slim brow quirked at the tree embedded in his skin in ink. Now those weren't so common. What in the worlds were those devious vieras been up to, while snuggling in the depths of the jungle to come up with this primitive mark. She found it questionable, and merely hummed at her silent inquisition" maybe not so phenomenal."
Coffee may not know much about Maya or this strange one, but rarely have she seen renegade lost viera with the Woods still attached to them. Perhaps the Woods had became immensely clingy over the decades.
Garnet eyes narrowed, his lids looking almost rather heavy as he carefully watched the female of his species. Subtle body language that suggested he was being rather territorial of his area—after all, his kind that were out of the wood were wildcards. One never knew quite what to expect out of them. His muscles were tensed, just in case he needed to pounce.
He heard her mention something about another one touched by the Woods, and knew immediately she was speaking of Maya. He quietly wondered how many were here.
Carefully dropping to the ground, he ran his claws through the soft soil.
“I’ve found the worlds outside the Wood work in ways that are a bit stranger to understand.”
Post by Ellie who has 0% on Mar 22, 2011 22:22:21 GMT -4
"That is the obvious...to be overwhelmed once that bubble is popped, but...atleast you learned how to adapt. Not everyone last...especially if they are so...naive," she was thinking about Maya, who easily placed her trust in a Heartless that stunk of mist and continued to trust it when she couldn't even trust her own nose. For one blessed by the woods, it seemed like she lacked the home training of living in a colony. "Then again there's hardly anything too complex...just avoid the unneccessary drama and chaos."
That is probably why the idea of looking over a kit was...distasteful; there was too much too teach. With vieras, it literally would take a village just to raise one kit. To put the cherry on top, the secluding life of living disconnected from the outside world only put them at a higher disadvantage.
A brow arched as she watched him before chuckling, "You are more tense than a Moogle who got its pompom yanked."
“For our kind,” Note gestured, with long elegant yet lethal looking claws, “There is no choice but to learn that quickly,” he said in a quiet voice. His voice never wavered, but it was obvious that he was talking about their kind that had left or had been ejected from the wood. He was not quite sure what she was talking about—was she talking about Maya? Or perhaps another? He had heard of several females leaving the Wood—but it was surprisingly rare for a male to do so. The Viera were surprisingly a lot like trees—it was surprisingly hard to adjust to outside worlds.
"You are more tense than a Moogle who got its pompom yanked."
Note lifted himself from the ground, rolling his shoulders back as he observed the growing, budding plants with what could have been interpreted as loving garnet orbs.
Lifting his eyes to the female, he sighed.
“Surely you must understand why,” he said quietly. Meeting rogue Viera was like dealing with a wildcard. And the other didn’t exactly remind him of Maya.
Post by Ellie who has 0% on Mar 23, 2011 16:35:06 GMT -4
"True, but if I wanted your head...you would've known and felt it already, yet here I am being sociable. It's not like I'm high on mist," being on the outside long enough, the others weren't always as venomous as one may think. Sure they can be a hazard by nature with claws and all, but that's a general thing. True anyone can deviate from moral; that goes for humes as well, yet it was quite stereotypical to clutter them all in one category.
Now Coffee won't deny that she can be questionable. With her rugged vagabond lifestyle and her career choice, she wouldn't put it past anyone to be weary, but not everyone knew that detail unless tongues in Ivalice flapped faster than their wits.
"Hmm if only some had learned that adaptive skill ahead of time, they would be living."
Watching him, she labeled him as awkward. The ratio of male to female viera...was an unknown, since they were seperated instantly at birth. The males were collected and taken to other depths of the woods when stable enough to live independent of the mother. In Ivalice, she had ran into more women than men easily; perhaps the female oriented tribe...were control freaks.
Note sighed deeply. This female had a point. If she had indeed wanted to attack, she would have done so by now. Rolling his shoulders back, he straightened his back, creating the illusion that the scar tattooed into his back became more tree-like. Allowing his ears to focus forward instead of backward, he reminded his body to relax.
He turned his back on her, flexing his long lethal-looking claws, and summoned a vine that bloomed in delicate blue flowers from the ground, curling and sharpening with rather mean looking thorns. It could have been a vine that would have been seen growing on a cursed castle. Leaning over and plucking a toxic-looking blue color from the vine, he turned to look at the female.
“I’ve been unpleasant,” he said, looking almost embarrassed. It was not clear if he was referring to himself being an unpleasant Viera in the past, or if he was currently being one. It wasn’t too often he willingly interacted with his own kind, after all.
“Note,” he said quietly, in an attempt to be sociable.
Post by Ellie who has 0% on Mar 23, 2011 23:14:43 GMT -4
Sitting on the edge of the roof above him, the huntress permitted her legs to dangle free, while flexing her clawed toes. Yes he did seem odd; then again, she never thought a male would be so consumed in...gardening. Such activity seemed to nuturing for a stereotypical male to willingly participate in. Perhaps being a viera raised about loving the earth was a main contributing factor.
She rolled her eyes at his embarrassed face; it would seem to be the first expression he made on his bland blank face. It was laughable to find shame in something that was inevitable and natural, "Haven't we all?"
"Coffee...so what's with the mark...quite territorial and demanding if you ask me," her head tilted up with an upward nod as she referred to the tattoo on his back. Although such markings weren't the traditional norm, it being a tree wasn't surprising.
Slightly taken aback by her brash behavior, Note focused more on nursing and pulling the lethal looking vines out from the ground. The Earth bending to his will was not a new skill to him; he had been constantly repeating the behavior since he had been shoved out of Elysium. Veronique had thought it was a lovely gift. She had encouraged it. Adored the meadows of flowers he would greet her with.
“...so what's with the mark...quite territorial and demanding if you ask me," she asked. Note froze, even his long white ears seeming to be suspended in time. After a few seconds, he moved again. The mark was every bit of him.
“When I was a whelp,” he said, his face becoming even sharper, if not colder. “I expressed that I wanted to leave the Wood,” he said carefully.
The images came back to him. The utter betrayal he felt when his oldest brother had told his father, the Shaman in the village. The searing pain he felt as his back was sliced open, and the melding of the Wood with him. “This was my punishment,” he said, delicately running a white claw over a scar that branched over his shoulder. It was blasphemous for the shaman’s son, or anyone for that matter to had wished to leave—just even to want to explore. Sure, he left a good deal of the story out, but he was not really one to talk.
“Ultimately the Shaman made sure I’d never be able to truly leave.”
Post by Ellie who has 0% on Mar 23, 2011 23:58:31 GMT -4
For a moment Coffee was about to think to deeply about it by merely comparing; one can't compare a life that wasn't her own, since she had abandoned attachment to it years ago. She did hummed deeply at the predicament, "How unfortunately ironic. You wanted to leave, yet here you are still connected to it and still cling to it."
She hardly conversed to another rogue viera so personally on these terms. Generally such turning point of nearly be labeled an exhile wasn't a tale one would share openly. Even if his story was short, he still told it; regardless of his short words, he didn't have to elaborate. She could only imagine. Still the huntress couldn't help, but to be curious. It was as if he became a study subject of 'the psychology of an outcasted viera' by a Coffee. "Why carry with you, what you wanted to leave and what still haunts you? Or is this your way of accepting, coping, adapting?"
Her claws began to tap on the roof as she thought out loud, "Either way you still bear scars of that day...even the invisble ones, so why face a daily common reminder of it?"
At the onslaught of questions, Note closed his eyes, as if he were gingerly stepping into a bath in which the water temperature was unknown. It was like that, trudging through memories like that. “Like I said, I was a whelp when I wanted to leave. I didn’t understand that it was...forbidden,” he said quietly. “Or that you’d never be able to go back,” he whispered.
Being surrounded by trees, and wildlife—even before the scars, were like being embraced in love. He crouched on the ground, sitting on the soft soil. Plants quivered underneath his touch. As a whelp, he had drawn pictures of hearts in the leaves in trees. Such was appropriate for the Shaman’s son.
He traced the scar. “My village was…devoured,” he said quietly, though it almost sounded like a breath of relief. He did not want to go at that time, when he was a little bit older. But what was he to do? Note had not known anything else. And the people he met because of the Wood were important to him.
“I’m not Hume, but I’m no longer a Viera. I have the freedom to choose what I do,” he said, glancing up at her. “Even if that freedom sometimes resembles a ball and a chain,” he said, and smiled, though it was small. He knew it was contradictory. But so was his existence, in a way.
Post by Ellie who has 0% on Mar 24, 2011 16:33:36 GMT -4
Descending to the same level, she landed to the ground with Esmeralda in head; for he won't have a reason to go defensive, she left the halberd leaning against the wall. The viera's ears were flat as the tip turned upwards not truly liking the discomfort that she had thrown over him.
The long white ears speckled with grey at the tip perked up. A chuckle got caught in her chest. He spoke of his freedom whole-heartedly, which she could respect. It actually put her at ease to now that the vieras that seems to be remaining aren't stuffy, snobbish, and walks on high air.
Still the problems these current vieras are brining to her...is remembering. With an inhale, everything was fastened and locked away in a little box tashed away in the back of her mind. Her blank face had a small smile, a smirk, at the other's acceptance. "That's good to hear...very good."