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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Position: Neutral, though because of past events, he's slightly seduced by bad deeds. And women.
Powers: For a man of his age, you'd expect him to be the better end of the spectrum of his abilities. Though, as some would gather, age does come with it's drawbacks. If anything, for the amount of energy certain abilities could ask for, and really, that may as well be true for this 'young' man. However, like somewhat stated, he is on the better side skill-wise. Or, at least debatably so.
Heart of Gold- Through many, many years of battle, and fighting with others, he has quite the knack in medicines, whether it be in the constructing of high-end potions, to stitching up more unprepared wounds. Though not technically a superpower in any sense, it is an advantage.
Intermediate Telekinesis- They say it'd take more than a few lifetimes for most humans to even attempt to control their brain to it's fullest potential. And although he is an older man, he is no exception. Granted, the ability is present, but not nearly as fantastic as your everyday hero. No, he can't lift mountains, or even your everyday cars, but he's in the process though, and he'll get there...through extraordinary means, maybe.
Hand-to-hand Combat- You knew it was coming, and he'd have to excel at something, right? You can't expect a man of his age not to have encounter a few heartless or nobodies in his day, would you? He considers himself a master in hand-to-hand combat in his own right. Though he hasn't the proper training -which could be his downfall- he is quick, both with his attacks, and use of his surroundings. If he can't take you down himself, by god, he'd take you down through the help with anything else. He's a fighter down-to-the-bone, so don't expect him to give up, hell, if I were an enemy, I'd steer clear. Just saying.
Gliding- A recently discovery, the man's surprise came about him through thinking about his telekinetic abilities. It was a logical argument: If he was able to eventually move everything else around him, why hasn't he attempted moving himself? And since that day and a few painstaking hours of trying, he's ever since been perfecting his newfound ability. He takes pride in saying that he can lift himself up, at least six feet, and move about the same amount, if he pushed himself, a bit more.
And again, he'd done all this on his own. What he really needs, is someone with the capacity to help him better master his abilities, that's an adventure to be waited upon..
Weapon: Again, the man doesn't use any certain weapon, rather, a variety of useful accessories he's come to master with the last twenty-two years. Whether it be bladed weapons, or even the environment itself. When it comes to protecting yourself and those around you, keeping an open mind to the possibilities is vital. It's why he's been around so long.
Also, for future reference, although I doubt it'd even be considered with the first few months, It'd be ideal for Kirit not to have a keyblade.
Picture: WIP
Appearance: Thankfully enough, the years have been fairly kind to Kirit, minus some new scars here and there. Of course, no one can stay the same now, can they? Well, the good news was that although crows feet -though not nearly as deep as he dramatacizes- and slight wrinkles forming at the ends of his lips weren't as unattractive as they might have seemed. He could thank genetics, or maybe even keeping a healthy lifestyle, or whatever you call it. Actually, you could say he were blessed, to some, he could pass for his early- to-mid thirties. Not bad, huh? You could only imagine how much of a confidence booster it is for the man.
Standing at exactly six feet, the man's weight is balanced evenly throughout his body, through years and years of training, it's worth taking note of his muscle strength, though not overly bulky, he stands like a sculpted Greek, not shy to show off a finely-toned body. He has a slight tan, obviously through experience in the sun, and striking youthful icy blue eyes, luckily on of the few treasures of a younger time he's able to hold on to. A thick set of dark locks lie messy atop his scalp, usually cropped short. He has strong features: a chiseled chin, bearing thinner dark blotches of stubble, a pointed nose, well-groomed eyebrows, ears pulled back, and an addictive (or seductive) smile.
Really, he isn't he terrible sight at all. Then again, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Personality: Oddly enough, Kirit can be a pleasant man. He's obvious an intelligent man, and throughout the years -the earlier ones at least- he's known to be quite the social butterfly. He isn't afraid of new faces, rather welcomes them with optimism for both their futures. Time has told him when it's time to move on though, and if they don't keep in touch, well that's exactly what he'll do. Even if you aren't planning to become a life-long friend, and rather a willing listener, he has plenty to tell and give advice to through lots and lots of experience.
When it comes to work though, he can be quite serious. He follows under the world of "You gotta work before you play", and he follows the standards strictly. He will get through his work first and foremost, no questions about it. You can call it stubbornness, he calls it good work ethic. Either way, it's happening.
For the most part, he's a very 'go-with-the-flow' type of guy. Back on the topic of friends for a moment, he's loyal. And he will have your back, no matter what. If you get into a fight, he's there. If you're mourning, he's there. If you particularly hate him one day, he'll still be there.
But there's a dark side to everyone, now isn't there?
When his world succumbed to the darkness, it was fate that he himself would be tainted, and it were something he'd have to live with every day of his life, it's what makes him strive to be the better person, to be all those things mentioned. Yet every now and then, under rare eyes, he has to give in. And with such tensed feelings bottled up, violence is an uncontrollable outcome. And when he gets violent, he gets violent. Sadly enough, it loses him many friends. And so unquestionably, his greatest fear is himself.
Original World: Crescent Spires Current World: Traverse Town
History: If you asked him to tell you his story, Kirit probably couldn't tell you. At least not from the beginning, not only was it so long ago, but it was such a damn uncomfortable story.
Luckily, you have me.
Kirit Zeklan was born to parents Ayo and Zedra on an early morning, on that beautiful metropolis he called home. Crescent Spires, in it's own right, was a paradise, and thankfully enough, held lots of sights for a growing boy: from seemingly humongous buildings to it's array of geography, it wasn't a sight for soar eyes. It had just the right amount of tropical paradise with a blend of suburban and city life. And for his pre-adolescent years, he was hardly seen at home, and always missed when not outside. He was blessed, and that's all there was to it.
His teen years held -of course- his most confused experiences. He was a growing boy, and along with the various 'talks' he held many questions, all of which would make his parents and peers seem rather uncomfortable. But who wanted to know about that, right? Let's get into his relationships. Honestly, he wasn't much of a flirt as you'd think, rather women loved to take him the wrong way. What he thought of as kindness, they took as him coming on to him, which rarely was ever true. The few girlfriends he did have weren't of much note, seeing as they never really lasted longer than a solid month. He just didn't understand commitment yet. What existed of his teen years consisted of nothing out of the norm: late night parties along the beach, girls, hanging with frineds, all the while staying close with the family. He was normal for the most part.
His early adult years (his early to late twenties) interesting and allowed him to make discovers, such as the few weird occurrences around the town. The most important discovery, his learning of his telekinetic abilities. It came first as he'd managed to shut his door furiously at a neighbor with using his hands. It wasn't until a few more freak accidents did he really look into his talent through research, and from then on would train at it. It would've made for a great city story if he'd told anyone.
It was in his late twenties to mid-thirties when things started spiraling downward. That was the first real encounter with the strange creatures, what where they called? The...Unversed? To save a lot of time, they left his home needing many, many repairs, and even left him with a few scars. Unfortunately, and little to his knowledge, that's the easiest he'd go through ever again.
The heartless were the next foreigners to invade his home, this time, making even harsher blows, and he remembered it fully. They'd started to come in small numbers, after just a few days increasing rapidly before doors were locked and weapons were picked up. He was no exception. And although they fought spiritedly, they weren't winning. The once vibrant sky was a disaster full of darkness, as if the sun had turned it's back on them. Eventually, he saw nothing, only black. In the midst of it all, he'd begin to feel a tingle in his neck, into his fingers, down into his feet. He wouldn't ever know it, but it was the darkness, and he was succumbing to it. Hah, and he thought he was so strong.
When he woke, he found himself lost in a world he'd never known existed. A world full of broken faces mixed with some pleasant. Traverse Town was its name. And it's where he's been ever since. He's fought through all those waves of heartless and nobodies, experienced small friendships, and even landed a smile or two every now and then. Oh how he'd wished he could have a gummy ship. All he really wants is to go home. If there is one anymore.
Role Playing Sample: It was nice, how the sand clenched within his curled-up toes, and how the breeze seemed just right today. Even the tides seemed to be quite chatty, quick to shatter onto the ground and mingle with the sand before it. It was nice to be back on Crescent Spires. Oh how he'd missed the warm beach days and the cool, adventure-filled mishaps within the city; it was a heaven if any, if even just for him. It was home. And he tried as hard as he could to inhale all of it, ever single space in that world of theirs, and he smiled sweetly. How couldn't he.
"Riti, Riti!" The shouts of a much younger little girl, Jupa, seemed to have been sung as he warmly looked to embrace her. "Riti, you have to come see Bay, he's walking!" Bay was the single nephew he'd taken much pride in, funny enough, Jupa was his babysitter. Hah, more like baby snatcher. The kids were close enough, and he envied the fact that a girl not even related to him was earning his love so much more within the last few hours. Competition was a well-known disease, and he was infected. He almost glided over the sand before he fell victim to it, before laughing it off embarrassingly after Jupa.
Why was it though, that he couldn't catch up to her? She was getting further and further away, and as much as he tried, he's legs seemed to stay in place, he was running, yet not moving. And with each step he tried to take, it'd seemed the horizon was getting darker, and darker...and darker. Soon enough, it was all black. And then one single word had him jumping through shock.
"RITI!"
The alarm blasted loudly in the small room, and with a hard beating way to fast for his health, he stood frozen, inhaling deeply with a hand pressed to his chest. It was just another dream. Another stupid dream.
"Stupid,. Stupid, stupid, stupid." His words were muttered broken heartedly, hand still pressed against his chest as he began to lift himself from his bed onto solid ground.