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 Erik Stoneking on Apr 5, 2016 0:12:07 GMT -4
Erik made his way to the place he used to have fun competing with his friends in Struggle. The change in the times was marked by how he had traded in his struggle bats for a pair of swords. Reaching back to ensure they were still there Erik felt each handle in turn, they were safe in the sheathes on his back.
Pausing for a moment Erik let his hand drop from his sheathes and glide across the brick walls bordering The Sandlot. This place, as opposed to so many others, was mostly untouched compared to how it used to be. That was to be expected though, The Sandlot was essentially nothing.
"This whole town used to be full of life, and look at it now. Well, at least we didn't fall to the darkness," Erik laughed at his statement and immediately chastised himself. He had grown somewhat calloused as his and so many others attempts to restore other worlds had failed, but he hadn't given up hope and wouldn't let the light slip from him. Persistence was one of the qualities Erik held onto heavily, and so he wouldn't be dissuaded by just a little failure.
"I should probably get to practicing," Erik said to himself, shaking off his negative thoughts. He came to this place many times to reminisce and train; it was a way to remind himself of the old Twilight Town and what he was fighting for.
Slowly he pulled the swords out of their sheathes and took a ready stance. He walked forward and began with the basic weapon forms he had been taught. He would slice and perform kiais at the right time. Erik put his all into every attack as if it were the real thing; in his eyes there was no point practicing if you weren't going to give it your all.
After finishing his first form Erik took a small break. He made his way over the wall and let it support his weight before pulling out a water bottle. Hydration and proper breaks were required for efficient training. Erik rested and looked at the different entrances to The Sandlot, seeing if anyone would come to join him in his training place.
The blanket of eternal dusk painted a cool, dark color scheme on the once twilit streets. Dark blues, muted with grays, provided the background for dusky purples and black shadows in the bleak expanse of setting. The analogous palette dulled the senses, choking out any lightheartedness that remained in the area. In the crisp night air, Isa strode along the ink-stained streets, his eyes focused ahead as his mind wandered over mundane thoughts and tasks.
The market, with its few provisions, had been the first stop on his list of errands for the day. In the bag held at his side were cans of soup, bottles of water, and a stray apple or two. His rations for the next few days. The nutritional value alone left him questioning his new diet, but Isa could do little to alter the meager amount provided to him. The line for food was full of refugees, parents, and civilians, each individual more sullen than the last. Outside, the injured begged for scraps, while others darted about in search of a spare cent or misplaced wallet. Luckily for him, they avoided Isa, his cold stare and resting scowl scaring off pickpockets with a mere glance. Unlike the unfortunate, Isa held a job. The meager amount of money earned from it granted him those purchases. It gave him a means with which to live and earn, the value of a long day's work warming the newly freed heart beating in his chest. Isa could not, and would not, beg for his kibble.
His walk was uneventful. Outside the main areas of Twilight Town, few people walked the alleys or further out avenues alone. Heartless dwelled within the shadows. Nobodies slunk along the rooftops. The streets were no longer as safe as they once were. Isa did not worry about such minor annoyances, his decade long dance with darkness granting him a small amount of power over either faction. No longer able to control the nobodies, Isa did not need more than his Claymore to remind a dusk of its place. From experience he knew that a strong will would keep the heartless at bay as long as he did not let darkness in. The foolish creatures, Isa thought, his mind wandering from errands to the lowly monsters. They were nothing but pawns, their vast numbers insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
He was close to his house, the dark buildings growing in familiarity as he reached a fork in the road. A right at the Sandlot followed by a short jog down a narrow alley would lead him to home. The sound of his footsteps echoed along the close-knit buildings, the dull rhythm sure to alert anyone nearby of his presence. In all his time living in Twilight Town, Isa rarely saw anyone using the square. While untouched, the area was difficult to reach without wandering through heartless and nobodies. The sound of combat stopped the male in his tracks, his gait slowing to a halt as his turquoise gaze homed in on a source of the noise.
Isa's eyes narrowed as he watched a lone figure in the center of the lot unsheathe its weapons. The series of movements brought about a sense of nostalgia, the scene not unlike the memories of him and Lea practice fighting. He rarely joined in on Lea's routine, but the pattern never left his mind, its monotonous rhythm ingrained in his subconscious. The older male blinked, pushing himself back into the present. Upon closer examination, the figure appeared male, his technique incorporating dual wielding. The drills were nothing more than the basics, but his stance definitely beat Lea's if the two stood side by side. Isa smirked at the thought.
He caught the younger male's gaze as it turned to face him, his eyes darting away to focus on a street lamp in the distance. Isa didn't have time to get caught up in this boy's games. He had groceries to bring home and his own routine to finish. He moved forward at a slow pace, keeping sure to look ahead as if he hadn't caught the boy's eye before. There was little time for games anymore, especially with random strangers off the street. No, Isa had better things to do.
"Not bad," he muttered as he passed by the seated youth. He didn't bother to look in the kid's direction, the compliment given out of pity more than anything. With a technique like his, the boy could survive maybe a couple more days beneath the fragmented moon's watchful gaze.
Post by Erik Stoneking on Apr 7, 2016 4:36:09 GMT -4
Just a few moments after Erik began his break he made eye contact with someone making their way through The Sandlot. It appeared to be someone heading home after running errands. It felt odd to Erik that the man would choose a path that lead through The Sandlot when there were so many safer routes that didn't, but maybe the stranger was proficient at combat and preferred the isolation that came with the more dangerous route. It was uncommon to see someone without any way to defend themselves after all that had happened, but someone that was confident enough to stroll right through Heartless territory even if they were more competent than the rest was a rare sight.
The quick aversion of the man's eyes alerted Erik that he probably had little interest in getting caught up in whatever he was doing, but it didn't stop Erik from continuing to wonder about the man. He had never seen the man before, but truly that wasn't too uncommon with all the new people from different worlds flooding in. Questioning him would probably be a chance for Erik to learn more about what happened in other worlds. Too bad the man didn't look like he wanted to be bothered, and Erik wasn't going to just bother him without any type of provocation if the man really just wanted to go about his day. Then the man commented on Erik's form.
Opportunity! Strike now and strike quickly!
Without missing a beat Erik quickly asked, "Maybe you'd like to help me improve that 'not bad'? After all, we're all stuck here together so we might as well help each other, right?" It was a strategy Erik used often to try and get people to open conversations; even if it seemed like they were uninterested, as long they provided Erik with some type of opener he would jump into it. After all, if he didn't take the opportunity when it presented itself he would never get a yes.
Swiveling from his position on the wall to one facing the other man, Erik allowed himself a better examination of what the stranger looked like. He wasn't much taller than Erik but he definitely had some other attributes that provided an intimidation factor, it was mostly the scar between his eyes and his seemingly angry face. Regardless, Erik didn't let this bother him more than the few seconds during his inspection.
"So, what do you say? It could be fun. We all need some of that these days!" Erik provided an exaggerated smile during his statement to try and help drive home the point.
Isa immediately regretted his decision of complimenting the boy. The comment hung on the air for no more than a second, but the young male sprung for it like a large, hungry fish.
"Maybe you'd like to help me improve that 'not bad'? After all, we're all stuck here together so we might as well help each other, right?"
No.
The Luna Diviner's pace came to a full stop, Isa's eyes closing to hide his annoyance. The gesture remained hidden, the older male's front still facing away from the youth. Something about the boy's tone ignited a strong sense of disgust in the pit of his stomach, his mind alight with the early signs of a creeping headache. If he wasn't holding his grocery bags, Isa would have pinched the bridge of his nose out of exasperation. His eyes fluttered open, his turquoise gaze catching a blur of black and red movement as he turned his head part way to get a better look at the boy.
"You want my help?" He questioned, his expression deadpan. Isa turned to face the youth completely, curious discover what exactly he was dealing with. A young boy, probably with a hidden burning passion, Isa could tell his type from a mile away. He'd faced many kids with that same bright-eyed face. Roxas, Sora, Riku, and him... Isa couldn't help but smirk. There was just no shortage of sword-toting brats sent to annoy him. The fire within him stoked itself on his rising impatience, his original plan of leaving lost in a wall of flame.
Memories of his days in the Organization filtered in like rain. To rise in the ranks, Isa–Saix–had done everything to prove himself. At the crest of his success, he'd been a mentor to many of the newer recruits. Teaching never suited him, the Nobody's approach to the subject akin to throwing a pupil in to the heat of battle to test their abilities. So when this boy pressed for a friendly match, the older male could only stop and stare. There was no leader to report to, no team members to pull along through missions, and definitely no hidden agenda to keep up with. How could anyone ask so innocently for a match with a complete stranger? It was a logical fallacy.
"So, what do you say? It could be fun. We all need some of that these days!"
"You've got to be kidding me," Isa sneered. "You think 'fun' will save this world? Its people?" His gaze grew cold, eyes narrowing as he scowled. "Don't make me laugh."
Helping others, what a foolish task. Isa learned at a young age to never rely on anyone but himself. The only person he'd ever put his trust into had betrayed him for a kid just like the one in front of him. Somewhere, somehow, these children picked up ridiculous notions about strangers. If this male still wanted to 'practice', Isa would gladly give him a fight. The kid needed some sense knocked into him. With the moon's help, Isa would gladly oblige his request.
Post by Erik Stoneking on Apr 9, 2016 14:46:19 GMT -4
Erik's smile gradually grew into a mischievous one. After all, one of his favorite parts of meeting new people to learn from was annoying them into fighting with him; it was incredibly likely that more than half of his "sparring" partners had given just under the amount of effort required to kill him. He liked it that way though, Erik was able to observe people's techniques as they were executed fully and that helped him to better adapt them for his own with practice.
The other man gave Erik a likely rhetorical question about whether he wanted his help. In that moment Erik felt that he might have had him ready to fight, so he pushed off the wall and walked closer to man in preparation. Right before Erik had the chance to introduce himself the man continued with his speech. Speaking in malicious tones about how fun was useless.
"So, you're saying fun isn't worth anything huh?" Erik's smile faded and his tone changed, "What are you? One of those 'I'm miserable so everyone else has to be too' types? Of course fun isn't gonna save us, but it will keep the light in our hearts. It'll allow us to keep going and search for a way to restore that which we've lost."
Surprisingly, Erik was very much angry at the man standing in front of him. It felt irrational to him, but given a few seconds to think about it he realized why. He had been denied by many people before, it's no surprise after all that not everyone wanted to waste their time training with somebody they didn't know, but this man went so far as to begin insulting Erik. Perhaps it was also the man's aggressive visage that provoked Erik, but it was definitely not something he could remain calm for.
Erik slowly walked over to where he had rested his swords against the wall earlier before picking them up and examining them. He ran his palms across the center and thought about when he got them before putting on a determined look.
"You know, I suppose it doesn't exactly matter what you think. I got these swords by perseverance and sticking to my ideals, so I think I can continue on that way," Erik spoke slightly louder than normal. With his swords in hand he made his way back to within a few feet of the man before lowering himself into a ready stance.
"So, we're fighting right? Just don't go too far, this is a friendly match after all, right?" Erik quickly flickered his previous smile while speaking.
Isa stood by his remarks. Eyes narrowed, he kept the young male in his sights, the grip on his grocery bag tightening as he calculated his next moves carefully. A part of him yearned to taste combat again, the moon's rays rejuvenating him and granting an unholy vigor to his entire body. His mind remained lucid, the clarity of the situation dawning on him the moment he fell in to the boy's trap. Isa enjoyed being the superior being, there was no doubt about that. He oozed confidence and lorded it over anyone that could be easily manipulated. It was in his nature, a trait that netted him few admirers and even fewer friends. He did not care how others felt while under his cold turquoise stare; their feelings meant nothing to him.
"So, you're saying fun isn't worth anything huh?"
So his words had reached the kid's ears. Isa refrained from showing his approval, masking it with an expression of indiffence. He cocked his head to the side as he noticed the boy's demeanor shift. Was the kid realizing the gravity of the situation? Isa wasn't a mind reader. He could only stand there as the boy continued with his dialogue.
"What are you? One of those 'I'm miserable so everyone else has to be too' types? Of course fun isn't gonna save us, but it will keep the light in our hearts. It'll allow us to keep going and search for a way to restore that which we've lost."
From the depths of his throat, Isa produced the beginnings of a low, guttural chuckle that gradually invaded the silence left by the boy's words. Children held no respect for their superiors. This boy was no different from Sora. Isa wondered if the kid had a keyblade stashed somewhere, ready to fight for a ridiculous cause at a moment's notice. Like a puppet. His chuckling ceased, the older male's eyebrow raised as he stared into the depths of the boy's eyes. He wanted to find the resolve in his eyes, the glimmer of hope left, anything that could prove this child could possibly save the world.
"Are you angry? Did I hit a nerve?" He asked, his tone flat. It was as if his previous facade had been replaced with his Nobody's. Inside, his inner conscious remained locked in a battle between lunacy and clarity. The moon refused to lessen its grip on his psyche. His heart beat rose, pupils dilating, the world around him slowly warping with the rise of his temperament. On the outside he appeared cool, but on the inside, within his heart, Isa was on fire. Watching the male turn away from him, the older male wondered if he should just turn and leave right then and there. He didn't have time to lose his temper, nor did he have the time to play with children. Time was a precious commodity to Isa, and he did not like it to be wasted on idle, useless chatter.
"You know, I suppose it doesn't exactly matter what you think. I got these swords by perseverance and sticking to my ideals, so I think I can continue on that way," The boy spoke. Isa rolled his eyes. There it was again: the false hope. Shaking his head, the Luna Diviner fought to quell his inner fury. This oncoming battle was not worth it. The boy casually strode back towards him.
"So, we're fighting right? Just don't go too far, this is a friendly match after all, right?"
"You're better off fighting the heartless," Isa remarked, his cold gaze falling over the boy one more time. He'd work his rage down another way, one more suited to routine he'd set up for himself. He'd done enough already; riling the boy's spirit would surely benefit the refugees if he directed that pent up into fighting the current infestation of darkness. "We aren't even in the same league." With that said, he turned on his heel, his gait steady as he continued on his previous path towards his home. He appeared calm and collected, any previous annoyance or disappointment erased in favor of a final comment to exit on. But inside, he mentally captured the young male's memory, storing it with the other notable faces of those he would keep tabs on. In this world of darkness, Isa knew he'd have to keep an eye out for any glimmer of light, no matter how foolish its bearer seemed.
Post by Erik Stoneking on Apr 25, 2016 21:18:42 GMT -4
Standing quietly Erik waited for his opponent to attack, but as time progressed and his own heart beat slowed it was clear that there wasn't going to be any kind of fight. The man spouted out a few closing remarks and walked away. It increased Erik's rage to the point where he thought about attacking the man while his back was turned. He raised his hand and began focusing to cast Water Trap to trip him up, before realizing that it wasn't worth it or right.
As he lowered his hand Erik thought about calling the man a coward but once again decided it wasn't worth it. In the end a fight would have been nice just to try and glean any type of techniques he could off of the man, but he would have been to riled up to focus on what he needed to. It would've felt good, and his skill would have increased to some extent regardless of the circumstances, but would have been ineffective.
Erik stood there for a long time while allowing himself to calm down. He was stuck thinking about what to do while his adrenaline returned to normal levels and his heartbeat with it. The anger subsided and Erik turned back to the empty Sandlot. What little training he had gotten done before being the interaction had interrupted it was only the beginning of his regular routine, but at the moment it almost didn't seem worth it to Erik to continue on.
As the moments passed Erik finally decided what to do. The Heartless wouldn't care if he skipped a day training, they would tear into him and those he was trying to protect all the same. There was no special treatment for someone who had lost the will to train for a day.
Erik returned to his training with renewed vigor The interaction had riled him up, but it had also made him realize he needed to be strong. The man had been slightly right, the Heartless didn't care if you were having fun, but Erik knew you couldn't just give up those things. He had to be strong enough so that those who couldn't fight could continue having fun and keeping the light in their hearts. Without the light, nothing would ever return to normal.