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 winterlovesong on Jul 24, 2009 17:01:21 GMT -4
The colors of Traverse Town all seemed to melt together to fit into one perfect picture. The indigo sky, dotted with white-hot beams of light...like a navy blue scarf with white polka-dots. The buildings were fascinating enough, with their older look, and gave off the air of seniority, and slight weariness because of all the hardships the town had been through.
To an artist's eye, the moment was just begging to be recorded.
Relm had set up her canvas smack in the middle of the town. None of the inhabitants bothered her, though some would peer curiously over her shoulder, and the thirteen-year-old would allow them to marvel at her magic touch before she shooed them away. Her reputation as the town's best ever artist (Relm refused to admit that might be an exaggeration) was making itself known that night. The night was just perfect - perfect for a painting.
She swirled the colors lightly with her brush on her painter's pallet, dabbing the canvas here and there. Her work of art was almost completely done, and Relm was satisfied. She'd really outdone herself this time, capturing the almost magical air of Traverse Town; well, she did pride herself on capturing the magical elements of any painting she did, even though this one wasn't of her actually magical variety. It was just a normal painting on a normal canvas...well, perhaps a little better than a normal painting.
To the blonde-haired girl, the only thing that would make her feeling of contentment more absolute would be spotting someone familiar, someone from three years ago. Despite how long it had been, Relm had refused to let the fire of hope in her heart be extinguished, though she herself did doubt her friends would turn up on this night.
((Working on a few assumptions about Locke; let me know if there are any issues. ^^; ))
Rumors were strange little things. Useful, too. When one was looking for information, it was difficult to find, but when you just let information come to you, well, that was a different story entirely.
Or at least, that's what Edgar had come to understand. He didn't fully grasp it, but Locke had tried to explain it to him the best he could, and the king listened, because this wasn't the kind of thing a young prince picked up in lessons. Locke was full of interesting knowledge like that.
It was a good thing Edgar had listened, too, because it was on that rumor that he and Locke were now at Traverse Town, investigating about a budding young artist. Quite young, apparently - only thirteen years old. She tended to paint pictures for wealthy merchants that came through, and she was as well known for her attitude as she was for her art. It hadn't taken Edgar and Locke to jump to the same conclusion: Relm.
And, sure enough, there she was right in the middle of the square. Through a stroke of luck, they had entered from behind the young artist, and managed to inconspicuously walk up behind her without drawing any unusual attention. Relm seem contently focused on her art. Edgar paused for a moment, staring at the painting appraisingly, and then spoke in his best art critic tone of voice.
"It's quite the beautiful painting, but it feels like it's missing something. What do you think, friend?" This last bit was directed at Locke, hoping he was sound of mind enough to play along for a little bit at least.
Locke was doing fine - a little more scarred, a little more likely to be obsessive, but if teasing a friend was your measure of sanity, he was entirely well.
"Hmm,"he replied, also in his best pompous voice. "I've definitely seen paintings with more life in them -- although you've got to admit her subject matter's improved."
Post by winterlovesong on Jul 27, 2009 12:42:51 GMT -4
Relm gave a slight start when someone snuck up on her to critique her painting. At first, all she paid attention to were the words - pfft, missing something? Oh really? - but the bell of familiarity was ringing in the back of her mind, and she could hardly ignore it. She knew that voice, she was sure. It took a moment, and then her brain sparked. ...Edgar!?
She did not turn around, however, merely continued to paint, while keeping in touch with the conversation behind her, though she did let out a snort of disbelief when Maybe-Edgar finished speaking.
Then his friend spoke, and Relm felt another jolt. That voice was familiar to her, too...albeit slightly more pompous. Locke!?
Now was the moment to turn around. She did so with her lips pursed and her arms crossed. Standing up from her chair and whirling on them, she said, "Oh, as if you two know anything about painting..."
But Relm couldn't keep up the mock-irritated front for long, because she recognized the two men, and they were who she had suspected. Her face split into a wide, childish grin, and she couldn't contain her almost childlike feelings of happiness...it was almost like she'd found Thamasa again. The thirteen-year-old threw her arms around Locke and Edgar, not caring what anyone thought, because that was just like Relm to merely be herself in public, squeezing them both into a sort of group hug.
"Locke, Edgar," she said affectionately - not using nicknames for once.
A warm bubble of happiness rose up inside of her. Now if only she'd find her erstwhile grandfather, and then she'd be very happy. But, for the moment, this would do.
Edgar stole a glance at Locke while he spoke, reading the treasure hunter's face for a moment. Everything seemed fine, which was good. It had been rather rough going the last few months, but Locke seemed to be slowly coming out of it. Any other detail, though, Edgar failed to notice as Relm turned and spoke, and then - unsurprisingly - gave them both a big hug.
"It's good to see you too, Relm," replied Edgar with a laugh as he returned the embrace. Three years was just a touch too long to go without contact with any of his friends. But things were coming together now, finally. Though he was only on Destiny Islands that particular day by a stroke of luck, and had been similarly lucky with the rumor about Relm...
He wondered, briefly, how many other people also had these problems. There had been more than a few that he'd ran into while looking for information about his own friends. It would have been a lot easier with some help, but- ...
"How you doing, Brat?" Locke hugged her back hard, ginning like his face would split, and it felt like something clicked back into place, something that had been tumbling free was solid again.
Who knew it was that easy?
He held her by the shoulders, then, to see. "Look at you!" he said, and then in mock outrage, "You went and got tall!" She had, too, grown like the proverbial weed.
Post by winterlovesong on Jul 28, 2009 12:14:22 GMT -4
Finally, finally she'd found them again.
Sure, they were just two out of many - including her grandpa - but still...that was something. A BIG something. Her grin refused to fade; this was a moment where she could be truly happy.
"And you too, Loverboy," Relm replied to Edgar, cheekily reverting to her nicknames.
Then she laughed as Locke examined her height. "Soon I'll be taller than you, Thief," she grinned, knowing full well Locke preferred a different nickname.
Relm couldn't help it. She was beaming, looking for all the world like a minature - albeit mischievous - sun.
Edgar couldn't help but laugh at the nicknames, feeling normal again after so long.
"So you've been here painting for the last three years, Kid?" There were times to catch up on, and plans to be made. Things were going to be busy for a while.
Post by winterlovesong on Aug 2, 2009 15:33:48 GMT -4
"Yup!" Relm replied easily to Loverboy, wearing a self-satisfied smile. "It's been nice, doing something I love. I knew I was gonna see you guys again," she added matter-of-factly, "but I didn't know how long it was gonna be...so why not paint to pass the time?"
The blonde's eyes widened innocently when Locke decided to "correct" her. "Treasure hunter, thief, is there a difference?"
((When it's shiny with y'all, my thread down below this one is open for y'all. It's meant to take place same day as this, as the VIs are walking in Traverse.))
((Apologies for the delayed reply, but Crisis Core was very distracting. >>; ))
"Of course. And it's a good thing you did, too. Rumors of your skills are spreading, kid. Don't let it go to your head." He smirked, knowing that it wouldn't matter; when it came to her paintings, her ego was already huge as it was, though, not without reason. She was good, to say the least.
So was Locke, for that matter, at what he did. Though, what to call it was always a point of contention. To be fair, some of it really was thievery, but it wasn't wanton. It was for a reason, for a cause. He may not have been best friends with the long arm of the law, but then, rules were meant to be broken, were they not?
"It won't have to go to her head, the paint fumes clearly already have. There's a HUGE difference!" Unfortunately for the argument, Locke was having trouble keeping a straight face - the grin kept intruding.
((We should defiantly go pick up Strago soon, then.))
Post by winterlovesong on Aug 24, 2009 17:09:45 GMT -4
(Yay Strago~)
Relm stuck her tongue out at Locke. "You're making excuses for what you really are," she taunted in a singsong voice, grinning mischievously at the older man before turning to Loverboy.
"Well, there has to be something under that ridiculous hat." The blond king smirked back at the young girl, not missing his opportunity for a comeback.