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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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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The sound of armor, clanking against itself continued to rise, and fall, as the sound of footsteps were silenced, and began once more, over, and over, and over.
Walking through the vast dangers of Traverse Town, a young boy took his stroll, seeing the many shadows of evil eyeing the holy knight from the darkness of their shallow souls. It had only been a few days since the fastest Onion Knight in his era had dissapeared from his own realm, only to find himself in a most mysterious, and mystified realm, swollen with darkness, evil, and so much corrupt ruffians.
Enough to make the angel cry, and the devil faint.
Such atrocities astounded Aino Iruga, fastest, greatest, Onion Knight in existence. Yes, even in his own realm of light, and constantly conflicting darkness, the name of this young boy, whom hasn't even seen the whole of his world, yet, the youth's name had long since been engraved on the wall of the honored, and most prestigous knights.
As Iruga continued his little 'stroll', the sky blue color of his armor shining so brightly, able to pierce any source of darkness. The scabbard that hung lazily around his waist, as white as the doves he had so much adored. His olden time shoes, fashioned by his mother herself (whom he had promised he'd wear no other) were worn, torn, and yet, they had no signs of dying anytime soon.
The octagonal shield, that had stuck with the young man through all of his journeys, and had assisted him so in so many of his journeys hung firmly onto his back, blinding the eternal darkness that had threatened to creep up on the Onion Knight so many times before.
Lastly, the helmet that had been fastened onto the Knight's head, protecting him from any danger that may threaten his cranium. Matching the colors of his shining armor, the grill of the helmet hanging down in front of the youth's face, hiding it from any prying eyes.
All this, on such a young child. Hard to believe someone as young as he could be so well equipped.
(I ask forgiveness for the choppiness, and the delay of the post. Today is kinda hectic, and I’m still getting into the swing of RPing Larxy again. I’m not kidding when I say it’s been a while. @-@ Plus my first posts almost always suck.)
Shadows were curious little things. While the most elementary of all the Heartless, she also found them the most fascinating, the most entertaining to watch. The twitchy manner with which they moved about the cobbled streets, only to sink fluidly into them and then glide swiftly beneath their prey to come up from behind and attack. They reminded her much of herself – minus the twitching part – slinking through the shadows for a swift and fatal strike. Such sneaky little things, with their wiggling antenna, she felt some small kinship with them.
But in the end, they were only Heartless.
A thin shaft of lightning shot out from her open palm, tearing the Shadow to tiny black shreds with a loud crack.
“Two-hundred and sixty-seven,” Larxene counted aloud in a bored drawl, listlessly lying backwards on the gentle incline of a rooftop, head tilted back so that she could see the sprawl of the tiny plaza below, green eyes following the soft glow of a heart as it drifted up, up, up and out of sight from its sundered, dark husk.
She yawned.
Things had gotten rather inactive back at The Castle That Never Was. Missions from the Superior were sparse, and Larxene had gotten rather bored, and irritated, with having to stare at the same old, repetitive white and dull grey inner walls of the castle day in and day out. She was a restless spirit, and the monotony of it all was just too much for her to bear. She could’ve used a change of scenery, so a change of scenery she did make.
All other worlds considered, she was rather fond of Traverse Town. It was… How could she describe it? Right up her alley? Maybe it was an elemental attraction: the Town pulsating with electricity, humming and sparking, an architectural tangle of wires and neon lights. Or was it the dark shadow of night that seemed to have a grip upon that world? Larxene did not know, nor did she care what had indeed drawn her to that place. She was there and away from the Castle, so, what more could she really have asked for?
Maybe a few more Heartless, perhaps.
When she had gotten there, the Second District had been crawling with Heartless. Shadows and Soldiers mostly. Easy pickings, but entertaining to zap into shreds nonetheless.
However, it had seemed that the Heartless, who before would come out of hiding to see what had happened to their electrocuted comrades, were now keeping to the darker, narrower areas of the district, away from her prying eyes.
True, she could still see them flirting to and throe in the shadows, but not clear or still enough for her get off another clear shot, like that last Shadow that wandered into the streets. It had be the first in quite a while.
Things had gotten rather inactive there as well, it would seem.
Seemed. There was a sound. A soft clanking sound, perhaps like the rustle of armor?
She tilted her head slightly and looked.
Like the rustle of armor.
A figure was coming closer to where she resided on the rooftops, all decked out in blue armor, yet smaller than a grown man. The helmet obscured the view of his face. Was is a Heartless, perhaps? Maybe a new variation of the Soldiers that she had been zapping?
Well, whatever it was, maybe it could provide her with some form of entertainment. She smiled venomously.
Lifting her palm once more, Larxene let electricity arc between her fingers and then let a lightning bolt fly.
(You kidding me? That was one of the longest posts I've seen, and it was great.)
A sound, a feeling, an odd sensation had been coursing through his body from some time now. What was it? The odd sensation that the young man felt many times before. However, this would not deter the young man from the task he held at hand...
Which still remained unknown to the youth.
The question had plagued him ever since he had arrived in this, ever so strange world that had been taunting him so. His journey had begun in an odd world, the name he has long since forgotten. However, it was there he had learned of an even stranger world, where one whom they had the pleasure of calling 'king' reigned.
Just now realizing this truth, the young man's head perking up to his newfound purpose. Aino Iruga would journey to see this 'king', and at least attempt to find a way to return to his own world.
However, the only question that remained seemed to be: How?
Iruga's mind coming back to terms on this odd sensation that had coursed throughout his body, leaving chills in it's wake. A minor argument had begun to rise in the youth's sub conscience, between two, very conflicting emotions that had never seemed to simmer down.
On one side note, the only special trait that Aino Iruga, the fastest, greatest Onion Knight from his own world held, was that of acess to his own sub conscience. A skill not known by many others. This certain skill, is the only reason why a male, at such a young age as Iruga's, is at peace with theirself, and had never had any type of problem when maknig any sort of decision.
Now, back to the task at hand. Finally calming down, and settling between the two conflicting emotions that withdrew themselves inside of Aino: Impatience, and patience. Two emotions that would never simmer down, even inside the calmest of minds. Finally, giving into the impatience that held a persuavive argument, the silent knight, slowly turning 'round with deep caution in the cornia's of his own eyes.
However, this sense of caution soon faded from the bright, eyes which were coursing with the flame of vitality.
Closing in on the child, seemed to be a lightning bolt, emerging from it's own shadows. At the sight of it, the young Onion Knight sidestepped the electricity quickly, and with much ease, due to his superior speed.
Cautious and wary, the youth's eyes darted from place to place, desperate to find the source of the attack that had came upon him just now.