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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((You think justice has a voice? *cough* I mean, what?
Nice reference there, pall.))
Seidhoaro'cyistiltia-atriajaretharen'aer Highguard was a particularly defensive fellow. As it were he'd been wandering around Traverse with nothing much to do.
That Saint Nick fellow had been most interesting, and indeed it was lovely to have his sword arm working once more.
The elf-breed was not aware of the ways of things the way most others were-- he did not understand the mishaps of Heartless, or wandered into too much danger himself. Years and years and years --over eighty of them, though they did not show-- had taught him a great deal of things, instead.
Unaware was not always what one would call Sei, however...
He needed more power. People needed to take more walks into the Third District alone. Those wannabe adventures were easy to take down, and had such lovely hearts.
In fact, here was one now.
Jude sunk into the ground with a faint *swooshplop*, and shadow-walked to the newcomer's feet, hidden in the shadow. Then he lept out of the ground, claw aimed to rip him from bottom to top.
Wanna be? Sei had not spent eighty odd years simply "adventuring". Granted, he didn't know much about the worlds, or... rather, he didn't quit comprehend everything that it all had to do with. Unlike others, he had a way back home.
Hopefully. Walking through fey circles was a very curious thing.
Jude had gone unnoticed at first. Simply a shadow, nothing more. The moment that there was tangible danger? Sei didn't escape unhurt. Claws ripping through cloak and pack, spilling contents, racking across his back armor plating as the blind man jerked. Second nature-- senses kicking in even before his mind was aware.
A gasp left him, something almost surprised, keeping still. "Who goes?" If it was that man again, the one that kept calling him human...
Thrown slightly off balance by missing and having the contents of a pack emptied on him, Jude paused to plant his feet. Then, he launched himself onto the prey, slashing with his claws.
Strolling into this new place in an old world, Gozo glanced around, making a brief sigh. Nothing to se-
But wait...What's this? A swordsman and a heartless in the heat of a battle? Gozo couldn't help but be intrigued. He approached the fighting duo carefully, pondering as to whether he should do something or not. The swordsman looked like he could handle himself, though this Heartless looked like nothing he had seen before. With a glance to the swordsman, Gozo asked him a question telepathically.
Post by Ellie who has 0% on Feb 23, 2009 21:31:22 GMT -4
For days, he has been searching for little specimens that he kept tabs on. The wielder of light, Yulia, wasn't no longer detecable. The last time he had saw her was the escape she made with a red suited man on a intricate decorate sleigh driven by flying deers. The entrance had disturbed the Heartless at the easy access the old man had to the nobody world that laid dormant in closure within the Realm of Darkness. He didn't worry to much of loosing the experiment, since a hungry and skilled hunter was tracking her down.
That little hunter that heartless, that neo-shadow, whatever happened to it? It was very unlikely for it to not be succesful in a hunt especially with such excitement and thrill. Either he found or his heart drifted to Kingdom Hearts. In short, Elaeus never saw him again, but sure the creature was paying attention to his warning of the diamond that was stored in her heart. If he had died it wasn't pleasant or swift. The long walk in the corridors of darkness didn't give him any trails of the other subjects he had studied: the hard-headed youthful warrior and the heartless in denial.
"It seems I would have to start o-" A familar streak of a scent, a dark signature, wavered through his nostril; the fading invisble trail traveled deeper into the pitch corridor. Like a cop on robber, he was on the cookie crumb's heels in a haste to find the familar source before it disappear completely. With a jog, he blindly walked towards an open portal without fear, second thoughts, but curiousity. On his toes, he stepped out into endless night with twinkling stars. The smell of this world was unique, and he knew what it was instantly, Traverse Town.
With the world's nature aura covering him, another's prenetrated his sense, a heartless. His brows furrowed with concentration to narrow the speculation down tighter, a neo-shadow. His head turned like a cat with moving hair at the instantly sound waves that echoed in his ear. It was loud enough to reach it fully, but the vibrations that bounced of the walls were very low, but he could hear footsteps of mortals clearly as Elaeus connected with the Earth Element.
Pale hands clenched onto his cloak to lessen the sound it will make with his movements and the incoming breeze as he drew closer to the dark signature, by roof. The Dark Member walked like a feline with an elegant leap to the top of the door leading to the Third District, but his landing was less flowing as he lands on all fours in a croutched position. His eyes narrowed at the sight, a heartless and a mortal.
Blinking furiously, he thought his eyes were decieving him again. Lately they would fuzzed before adjusting in focus and sharpen again. He only saw one man, but smelled two. With a hum, his crystalline eyes moved in a quick scan.
Synthest watched from above, his blue eyes reflecting all light that hit them, making them slightly luminous in the dark sky. Like a cougar, he stalked along the rooftops, seeing thes truggle from above. That Heartless... It had been eating people for quite a while, it seemed. Its strength was great. He understood from personal experience that every Heart made it a little bit stronger.
With a single bound, he jumped across the alleyway below and onto another roof, wondering when he would step...
That man!
It was the blind fellow that he had met a long time ago! He remembered him. That wierd Nobody-thing had attacked the guy. This dude did NOT have much luck, it seemed. It seemed as though everybody was out to get the man. Syn felt in his heart... heh, heart.... that he should help him.
He hit the ground and rolled, throwing his arm out, releasing the blade from inside of his palm. The black sword glittered in the dull lights of Traverse Town, its six crystals shining from inside.
((Oh god, wow... okay. So. One moment while I type up a post.
EDIT: woo! Post!))
The clash of items being dropped to the ground-- where they missed, didn't land right away... it formed the shape of something in the sound of it. Obviously it was dangerous, regardless, it wasn't what he'd thought it was. No... no, Sei never did have any luck. Never had much of the way of it in life. But that wasn't what made a man strong. Pushing through and making things turn out for the better, no matter what, was what did.
Sei dropped the tattered pack in the second that he side-stepped, claws clashing with armor once more. Fat chance, you little bugger. Sei made it himself, and he was damn good at making light weight, durable armor. But it was the soft question, in his mind, when, really, he couldn't see anything. Regardless...
Whatever it was, it was Gozo's choice.
Synthest. Yes, Synthest's appearance was met, more so, with a brief intake, a breath, quickly measured into a rhythm of things. Echos and vibrations made up Sei's world, and his hand snapped to his sword, drawing the claymore, in a clean, careful line, precise. Three steps back, one to the side, yes, keeping sense open. His clouded auburn eyes were drawn intoa scowl of focused precision, dark hair falling in the elf-breed's face as he semi-crouched. Muscles coiling, joints locking.
Any secondary attack would be met with deadly force. Sei had about had enogh of this place and pushing his buttons.
Jude needed to do this quick, before others joined the fight. Shifting his arm into a gun, he sprayed bullets at his target. This close, just out of sword reach, the bullets would punch through a few inches of solid brick.
Post by Ellie who has 0% on Feb 28, 2009 10:48:07 GMT -4
(sorry for the delay, I've been sick lately off to spot.)
Elaues was only there as an observer, a calculator, and a decision-maker to forsee what or who he would manipulate or need for future reference. Hearing a louder close noise, a thump of landing feet echoed loudly in his ears. Like a cockroach to light, Elaeus moved over closer to the shadows as the youth bounded away to the ground. The Heartless assumed he knew the blind man with distinctive point ears below.
Person one lifted a black sword with six crystals that reflected the endless night of Traverse Town. It seemed to materalize out of his right arm as if it was one being one person. In his own thoughts, not even a moggle can synthesize or combine something so complex with such blade. The shaggy brunette hair and luminous sapphire eyes were downloaded into his memory for more observations as he tried to milk more information of his personality, battle skills, weaknesses, and more. He can conclude now that he knows the man in trouble, a kind heart it seems.
Person 2 had a sort of relation with Person 1. He may be blind as a bat in broad daylight, but he's far from weak. It wouldn't make sense to him for a mortal to oneself in such hazard if one couldn't defend him or herself. The four foot claymore in his grip prooved such practice with the muscular slim frame. Elaeus felt his eyes zoomed in on soft remains of scars of swordmanship. No, he wasn't weak, but prepared in a waiting stance. It seemed he was waiting for any sounds to trigger motion. His other senses would logically be stronger with his lack of sight.
The heartless, the neo-shadow, seemed to be acting out of swift desperation. This he had never seen before. Usually they took joy in hunts and took their time to enjoy the thrill, but now his arm had rippled into a firearm, and bullets were set free. The heartless could sense the numerous presences that was slowly attracting to the scene. He wanted to get this hunt over it before being caught off gaurd with more to deal with.
Syn spun the blade around him, sending a whistling scream into the air as fire generated from the edge of the blade. The ruby crystal at the hilt shined the same color as the surroundings were lit up by flames. His eyes shined as he sliced, conscious of every movement. His feet moved in a slow rhythm that correlated with his hands, and the sword spun in circles, creating a sheild of fire that both pulverized and protected.
At that moment, bullets flew out of nowhere!
Syn's ears immediately shot his brain the message, and a flash of black flew through his hand as the sword melted into a wider shape. The shield deflected the bullets, and it immediately turned to liquid, resuming its original shape. Syn took a step beside the blind man and held the blade up.
((I hate being fair sometimes. Contrary to popular belief bullets are very, very hard to dodge/protect against.))
The sound-- it hurt-- a sharp pang that made pain flash briefly behind his sightless eyes. It was completely unlike any that he'd heard before, the way it rattled. Seidhoaro'cyistiltia-atriajaretharen'aer came from a world without such commodities as electricity (it was a concept he was slowly starting to understand, all these modern things, in stride as he always did), a world that knew nothing of such things as guns or many books, or the words of those who spoke of darkness, of creatures that ate your very soul out from inside your body. He came from a land of the Faye. Of dragons and witches, a place where things were both inifinately complicated and primitive alike. His plated armor was, in terms of that, some of the best. Beaten, out and flat and shaped, folded, repeating it over and over until it could withstand, yet be light weight.
Arrows were one thing. Projectiles that could move faster than that? With that kind of perpulsion? No, it wouldn't withstand, not much anyways. It was a little known mechanic, really-- bullets could move much faster than arrows, faster than most beings could move, trained or no.
That voice, however...
He could smell magic, despite his inability to work with it as much as his more prominent brethren could, and darkness (or the elf-breed assumed it so, considering how slick and less harsh it was; soft, but not the sense of something molevolent, an animal, hungry and fighting), and all these things were culminating down into confusion. And while Synthest could protect himself and Sei from much of the projectiles, Sei supposed he was lucky Jude wasn't giving it the whole nine yards; he felt pain. Pain unlike what he was used to and the crunch of armor as it was puncture through, withstanding enough so that what few landed in his chest plate and one grazing what was bare of the left arm, it stung and did not pass through as they were perhaps meant to. Large holes were left in the metal plating, ripping into the padding, not the skin, but the munny pellets were what got him. Blood, red and thick, having exploded out in puncturing impact, and now it was quickly slithering out and into the padding under it, smattering the armor.
It made him grimace and charge, regardless, past Synthest, without a word, other than a loud snarl of pain and rage.
The claymore was slide into a position within Sei's grasp, a finesse, so that one motion as he charge could thrust the sword, sleek and sharp and fast, right at Jude-- the noise had come from here. This had to be what made the pain, this thing, and if that did not work, he was ready form a counter attack.
Sei would worry about where these strange projectiles had hit when he had the time. For now, this was fine.