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And the Hero Will Drown -Kingdom Hearts-

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Stealthy Killington I
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« Reply #30 on: May 05, 2009, 08:53:29 pm »

They're pretty unpleasant...  Grin
Well that pretty much guaruntees that we're going there.
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Zane Locke
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« Reply #31 on: May 06, 2009, 06:43:01 am »

We're supposed to submit our worlds? I have no objection, but I can't imagine we'd be visiting Risu's worlds. They're pretty unpleasant...  Grin

You don't have to submit a ton of info on 'em, just some basic stuff. You never know, we might end up there eventually.
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« Reply #32 on: May 07, 2009, 06:34:43 pm »

Okay, since you asked for it, here's a bit of info on Risu's worlds!

For starters, there's three of them and a major outpost/mining centre over the Maelstrom. Risu's people are hyper advanced technologically, and long ago learned how to artificially create a material that can be used to punch through the barriers between worlds. While it can be made completely artificially, it can also be mined from the Maelstrom, hence the outpost there. When this discovery was first made the population of the initial world was close to unacceptable, and they saw no reason not to expand into several nearby worlds. This happened so long ago that the exact details of who the original inhabitants were and what happened to them are completely lost. No one even remembers which world was the original one.  They are now referred to as Glory, Harmony and Reason.

Considering their current state, the names are somewhat ironic. Long after the two extra world were colonized, Risu's people went through some violent civil wars. The end result was the institution of a special AI system, backed by nanites. The nanites had existed for some time and had given Risu's people long lives, greater strength, agility and the ability to heal extremely quickly. But now they were put to a more sinister purpose. They were used to prohibit violence. The rational behind this was that since we do not have a right to harm someone else, prohibiting anti-social acts could only be a good thing. Also, many other acts were prohibited, such as stealing from a citizen, etc. Also, a caste system was implimented. Each level has slightly different limits to their actions, and different access to the nanite/AI systems.

Theoretically, there should have been a 'ruling' class who determined all the limits of the AI functions. But there is not. No one currently alive has the authority to change the AI systems at their most fundamental levels.

For our purposes, Risu's worlds are most unpleasant. People are being constantly monitored everyone outside of their private quarters. Fiction that is not based on fact is illegal, and all entertainments must be approved. Poor attitudes towards social roles can result in penalization or, at the worst, reorientation. Risu has been close to that a time or two, but managed to skate by. The cities themselves are beautiful, often built high above the ground with flowing walkways and amazing technologies, but they conceal a deep rot within. While the technology is amazing, it has been a long time since there were any great advances, and the population continues to decrease. When the AI system was first implimented, the average lifespan was almost 500 years. Now it is down to 200, because while the AI prohibits suicide it cannot prevent a kind of passive suicide. While the population is still in the billions, it is half what it was when the AI's were first introduced.

If we wanted to visit these worlds, a lot of magic would have to be involved. Risu's people don't believe in or use magic, so their systems are curiously open to it. False backgrounds would be necessary... visitors from other worlds are only permitted at the outpost otherwise.
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Stealthy Killington I
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« Reply #33 on: May 07, 2009, 09:08:24 pm »

Good News, Saturday will most likely be the 'Stealthkill gets caught up on all his RP **** day'. I'm hoping to get my sheet and another chunk of my world done then.
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« Reply #34 on: May 08, 2009, 12:42:28 pm »

bad news, GERIAND WANTS TO **** START THE RP ALREADY!
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« Reply #35 on: May 08, 2009, 02:35:20 pm »

Name: Joe

Age: 14

Sex: Male

Appearance: Dark brown hair of short length with few curls that decreased in number around the end of 3rd grade. Tan skin mainly caused by excessive time spent outdoors. Joe stands roughly over five foot and is of the natural body weight for his age group. His body shows no sign of a muscular appearance other than one of an ordinary eighth grader. Surprisingly he has smooth skin showing no sign of what people would call a ‘teenage acne takeover’. A first glance would catch you looking into a pool of dark brown eyes, as a friendly smile would spread across his face pulling you out of the spell his eyes would cast.

Personality: Joe is a naturally shy guy. He wouldn’t dare to pick a fight even if it was brought upon him. Normally he would not care what others think of him. Although, his friends would play a huge role. Around them another side would emerge. A side that would surprise the average mind. On the outside Joe would look and act like a kindhearted person. Although on the inside, it was a different story. Years built on hatred towards others who would not allow him to speak his mind. Things that people would call different or out of the ordinary. He was always asking questions and always wondering why. Some people would call things he pondered on ‘weird’, while others would understand him and find an answer to the question. You would have to put time into getting to know both sides of Joe and hope that you would get on his good one. If caught on the bad side, he could make you feel unimportant as if you were nothing to him.

Occupation: Joe currently holds no occupation other than his daily chores around the house (if you can count that).

Education: Reynolds Middle School is the school he currently attends. Although he does not score top of his class, he would be considered smart. Proudly attending enriched language, otherwise known as the Gifted and Talented program, along with Honored Algebra, he finds satisfaction in these achievements he has made.

Family: In Joe’s household you would find his mother Rose, his father Joe, his sister Juliana, along with his four cats and a dog. Each and every one would support him in anything he sets his mind to. Joe usually gets what he desires by using his words other than his fists. Joe has been raised to believe the most powerful and intelligent choice of words can defeat any type of physical action. He believes in this and lives according to it. Although if necessary, a deadly sensation would take over him, gradually evolving into physical actions.

Significant Other: Joe is one that loves and desires the undisturbed calmness of being alone. He is not one who would give you more than a three word answer if a question was asked. He would not enjoy one person other than the other, mostly because he would treat everyone as an equal. He currently
holds nobody endear to his life.

Religion: Joe is currently Catholic even though he highly disagrees with most information he would be told. Many questions are left unanswered and he believes they have not yet been proven. He would have to see it to believe it. In the future he plans to have no religion, believing in what he finds true. Joe would not second the chance to debate with someone in their religion, enjoying the moments that the person who opposes would ponder in thought.

Hobbies: Gaming, Archery, and Guitar are the three things that you would find Joe doing. In gaming, Joe would become overly addicted and this would lead him to eventually quitting the game. Although a month later he would have a change in thought and possibly come back to the game. Everyday after school, you can find Joe in his backyard with his Hunter’s Bow in his hand, along with an arrow tightly drawn back as he aims at a cardboard box target he has set up. Seconds later he would release the arrow as it pierces through the air eventually breaking through the target, usually coming through the other side because of the amount of strength put into the shot. A satisfied smirk would form on his face as he would put yet another arrow onto the bowstring, glancing at his next victim. Entering Joe’s room you would hear the sometimes serene tone of chords put together to form a peaceful and soothing melody, while other times the sound would be terrifying making a tone built on anger and hatred.

Personal History: When Joe was about eight or nine years old he could remember one gloomy day at a park. He was hanging on the monkey bars, gradually making his way to the end. As he made it to the end, satisfied with himself, he made his way down to the ground, feeling the rough wood-chips nipping at his hands. To his left he noticed an old woman, talking to what he supposed was her Granddaughter. A voice shouted, “Joe, time for lunch!”. He recognized this voice to be his mother’s. He made his way past the old woman and heard a low, scratching voice, mumble a few words. He looked back saying in his not yet developed and innocent voice, “Excuse me?” The woman looked back towards him in confusion. “Oh, I’m sorry! I was talking to my Granddaughter.” She replied in her elderly voice. “You have beautiful eyes there! Although they look as if to be missing something.” The woman continued to talk although Joe was already nearly running back to his mother. To this day he can still remember these words, along with her elderly voice. He would always wonder what that something was and if this woman was telling the truth or not. As the years have gone by, Joe has rarely changed. He was still the shy little boy that everyone close to him has grown to love. Every now and then he would look into his bathroom mirror, staring into his eyes, not noticing a thing.

Keyblade: Kingdom Key of the Realm of Darkness

Misc.: Many things irritate Joe. One of these things being when people would act cruelly to his friends. He would sometimes not know what to do in the situation and feel horrible for not aiding the victim. When Joe dislikes someone it does not end there. It would gradually lead to him hating the person. Although being the shy person that he is, he would of course respect the person as he or she has done no harm to him. Joe loves being in the dark. At night he would sometimes sit outside and listen to the stillness of night. Even in his room he would leave a window open to feel the slightest amount of breeze coming into his room. Even though things may irritate Joe to a great extent, everyone has a weakness or a fear. To Joe this would be his fear of heights. Ever since a boy he would hate rock climbing on the fake walls they would have at festivals and other places with a wide variety of activities. Although sometimes he can overcome this fear, hearing the bell be rung as he makes it to the top of the wall. Hearing the sound represents, his fear being overpowered by his own willpower.
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Zane Locke
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« Reply #36 on: May 08, 2009, 02:37:56 pm »

Note that Shadowbolt's sheet follows a different format from all of yours, and his Keyblade is one that I specifically placed on an "off-limits" list. Just so there's no confusion, he had special permission to re-post his Kingdom Hearts: All's End sheet and use one of the Kingdom Keys. He is not breaking any rules, thanks for your concern.
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Zane Locke
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« Reply #37 on: May 08, 2009, 08:27:15 pm »

Act I



((From his point forward, please use the OOC thread for out-of-character comments. That's what it was made. If absolutely necessary, you can post OOC in this thread, but only in a double-set of parentheses, like I'm doing now. Thanks!))



Robert neglected to answer. “It's good you dropped by, actually,” he said darkly, changing the subject. “I met with King Tyranus this morning- the old bastard still stands strong. He wants to meet us all, the Seven Heroes of Albion, or whatever the hell it is they call us nowadays. Save for Sam, of course."

Reading the shocked and confused expression on Christina’s face, he added, "He says he'll give you back your freedom- remove the bounty- if you comply. I would, if I were you. Your so-called ‘heroing’ will be made that much easier once you’re not wanted as a criminal. Hell, maybe you can even score a coin or two off it. Whatever higher power there is knows you could use it, and so do you.”
   

***


“Awaken,” said a voice, cool and smooth, echoing a thousand times over within Risu’s head, each echo blending into the previous so that before long the noise became one continuous hum. The man struggled to pull open eyelids sewn shut with tiredness, finding himself lying atop a neatly-made bed in the center of a green-carpeted room. Dozens upon dozens of polished wooden bookshelves were scattered throughout the room, each housing hundreds of massive volumes with impressive titles, such as “The Beast Within: A Study of the Nature of the Heart” and “Born of Darkness: An Examination of the Creation of the Heart.”

Leaning against one such bookshelf was the black robed man from the station, completely immobile. The elaborate sword which he wielded during Risu’s previous encounter with him was nowhere to be seen; this detail was likely for the better. “Hello, Risu,” he spoke, without shifting his gaze from the particular patch of carpet just before his feet. His voice was calm and smooth, chillingly so. It was that of a young man’s, in his mid-twenties at the absolute oldest, but Risu knew that meant not a thing.

A strange aura seemed to flow off of the figure and into Risu’s heart, confused and angry. Intensely light, but with the faintest hint of darkness at its core- Risu could feel it, as though it were some tangible force just floating there between them.


***


The sudden chill and wetness that overcame Jeff was unpleasant, to say the least.

“Ungh…” he moaned involuntarily, his entire body sore, as if he had just fallen from some great height. None of his bones felt fractured or broken, however. Opening his eyes, he found himself sitting in a gray brick fountain in the center of a bare, Victorian-esque town square, the surrounding buildings painted a dark shade of orange that would look disgusting anywhere else, but seemed perfectly in place here. The moon hung brightly in the black sky above him, one of the stars to its immediate left blinking out of existence just as Jeff looked up at it. Wherever the hell he was, the place had a strange feel to it; not quite Earthly, yet strangely familiar.

Homey, almost.


***


“Hello…?” asked a voice, innocent and feminine. Young. Joe pulled his eyes open and the image of a beautiful blonde girl maybe a year older than himself blurred before him before focusing with alarming clarity. Joe’s vision had always been 20/20 perfect, but this was… insane. He could see everything; every individual hair on the girl’s head, every eyelash- even a tiny speck of dirt no larger than a needle head that rested on the side of her nose. Her deep blue eyes scanned him upside down in relief, but a confused relief at that; she looked at him as if she had never seen a human being before, despite her being one herself, intrigued.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” she smiled, her eyes never ceasing to flick up and down over his body, oh so slightly. But not too slightly to go unnoticed by Joe. “Uhh, I’m Naomi,” she said awkwardly. The faintest hint of pink touched her cheeks. “Are you okay? You were passed out in the middle of the Second District, so I brought you to my house until you woke up…”

Joe noticed for the first time that he was laying atop a neatly made queen-sized bed, near-spotless white sheets draped over them. He didn’t doubt they were spotless prior to his lying there, seeing as she said he was passed out in the middle of the street and consequently probably not the cleanest person in the world. The room was relatively small, maybe fourteen-by-ten, with a polished hardwood floor and white walls, various posters depicting bands Joe had never heard of plastered over them. The girl herself was dressed in a tight pink shirt that showed off her shapely figure and far-too-short jeans that barely covered her upper legs, which were smooth as glass.

“Here, let me get you something to drink,” she offered, speaking quickly and nervously, dashing out of the room before Joe could object, even had he wanted to; he was parched. Where the hell was he?


***


The smell of blood on steel drew a wicked grin to Tirin’s lips, another body falling limp from his blade and cracking its skull against the concrete ground. Blood spilled from a gaping wound in the formerly wanna-be gangster’s chest, ran a short distance, and assimilated itself into the red pool of liquid death surrounding the small pile of corpses resting before a large green dumpster in the alleyway.

A cool breeze blowing down the alley ruffled the man’s hair, and he closed his eyes, taking in the serenity of the silence. A million images danced past his closed eyelids of the power he knew he would someday possess once he achieved godhood, each a million times more exciting and pleasurable than the previous. A disoriented moan came from behind him, but he passed this off as merely a product of his imagination and integrated it into his daydream in the dirtiest way he could fathom.

Until it sounded again, louder and obviously in pain.

It was a male voice, for one thing, completely turning him off of perhaps his favorite daydream yet, and it belonged to someone young, perhaps as young as Tirin himself appeared; fourteen-ish. It came from behind the dumpster, thoroughly confusing the man; he had chased his latest kill around the dumpster not five minutes before, and no one else was behind it- how could anyone have gotten back there since without his knowing?
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Tirin
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« Reply #38 on: May 08, 2009, 08:44:24 pm »

"...DAMN it!" Tirin exclaimed, his eyes narrowing as his fist collided with the wall, producing a small shower of stone, the dark material appearing to sponge up the blood coating the ground. After a few long minutes of simply standing there, a slight drizzle beginning to pour down and wash the red liquid into the gutters, the ancient (by human standards, at least) warrior making a note to find himself in the company of a few beautiful women later on; Love or not, a man had certain needs that absolutely had to be met, and they were only stronger for those who were basically perpetual teenagers. Flicking the blood from his sword and onto the wall, as was his custom, he sheathed his sword and walked towards the voice of the wounded person - if it was a teenager, he could just give the boy some help. And if it was an idiot thinking he could escape punishment through pure acting skill, he would be disappointed. No god would be foolish enough not to double-check their handiwork.
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Zane Locke
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« Reply #39 on: May 08, 2009, 08:50:51 pm »

Propped against the back of the dumpster, barely conscious, sat a boy of, as Tirin had predicted, roughly fourteen. His long, brown hair was swept across his forehead to his left, leaving no part, and mildly spiking out around his left eye. He wore a gray t-shirt with a white circle emblem with an upwards-facing arrow inside it on the left shoulder, the word "ELEMENT" curiously spelled out below the circle in capital letters. The boy's blue jeans were torn slightly on one knee, a tiny trickle of blood flowing from the wound, although other than that, the boy appeared mostly unscathed. Another quiet, agonizing  moan escaped the boy's lips as he stirred and shifted slightly, his head rolling to the left, eyelids briefly squeezing shut as he did so.
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« Reply #40 on: May 08, 2009, 09:03:48 pm »

"...Magic. All of it, magic." Tirin whispered to himself, unable to accept the (sudden and apparently impossible) appearance of such a strangely-dressed teenager of anything else. Instead of deciding to ask the disoriented and, strangely enough, barely conscious teenager any questions about who he was and where he was from, he shouldered the kid and teleported... Away, a few feet outside of his own home, and running into it as quickly as he could - such a manner of clothing as the boy had for himself certainly wouldn't protect him very much, assuming he was normal, or even in that general range. He set the kid down in his own bed, not much bothering about getting a bit of sleep for himself - after more than three hundred years, he had a massive surplus of energy from something as simple as a short time spent killing slow, weak criminals. "He had better not be in a state like this for something as simple as a little cut on his knee, or I'll kick him out and he can fend for himself in the inhospitable, barren wastes..." He trailed off, hoping the kid would regain some semblance of awareness and asking the questions, "Who are you, and why and how are you here?", assuming he could at least speak.
« Last Edit: May 08, 2009, 09:20:09 pm by Tirin » Report Spam   Logged
Zane Locke
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« Reply #41 on: May 08, 2009, 09:19:15 pm »

"Alex..." was all the boy whispered, barely audibly. His eyes remained shut, his breathing seemingly normal. Not being a doctor of any kind, Tirin couldn't diagnose the boy of anything but extreme tiredness. The boy's left hand gradually made its way to lay on his chest just above his heart, and his fingers clenched in a loose fist.
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« Reply #42 on: May 08, 2009, 09:49:17 pm »


Risu looked around slowly, taking his time. He had not expected to awaken. He had, in fact, expected to die, his body crushed into nothingness in the Maelstrom. He had hoped it would be relatively painless but hadn't expected it. No one knew exactly what happened to a person that fell into the void.

So this room was... unexpected. He didn't believe in the afterlife but if he did, he couldn't imagine it being a rather well-appointed room. Certainly not one with books.

Risu's gaze fixed on the books for a moment, and a bitter smile played across his lips. The titles were enough to tell him they would have been banned in his world. He had owned a book once, as a child... it had been taken away and destroyed by his mother. Otherwise, he wouldn't have even recognized the books for what they were. All approved records were stored electronically on his world.

So he was most likely not in his world at all. That was interesting, to say the least. He had always wanted books.

Risu then turned his attention to the man, examining methodically. The youth of his voice meant less than nothing... people could live forever, although none ever did. But he couldn't see any of the subtle signs that would have given him a rough grasp of age. The robe was part of the problem, but not all of it. Risu frowned as his machine telepathy and some other, less defined thing registered the aura. It was uncomfortable, and Risu felt something inside himself react, radiating a bitter cold. Risu winced, pressing a hand to his chest for a moment. The cold was not just an aura, it was physical, and his breath suddenly steamed in the air.

"Who are you?" Risu said, looking at the man. His only guess was that he wanted something built... or designed. If it was the latter, Risu was surprised by the man's perspicacity.  Very few technicians could make original designs. Risu was one of those few. "What do you want from me?" He waited for the reply, trying to ignore the chill in the air and idly wondered how he could stop that. The cold seemed to come from him.
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Zane Locke
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« Reply #43 on: May 08, 2009, 10:05:09 pm »

Ignoring Risu's first question and continuing to stare at the ground, the robed man replied slowly: "What I want from you? No. I only want one thing, and you certainly can't give it to me. What he wants, on the other hand," failing to mention who 'he' was, "is for you to design and construct a... unique machine. He says you've got a knack for things like that." The man turned his head to stare directly at Risu, and although his eyes were shrouded by an impossibly dark shadow cast by the hood, Risu could still feel the burning of the man's glare in his chest, as if he was staring straight into his soul- or, rather, his heart. "Risu..." the man said slowly, putting unnecessary stress on both syllables. "Hmph."
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« Reply #44 on: May 08, 2009, 11:18:05 pm »

"I am the best." Risu said without any trace of arrogance. It was simply a fact. Almost all the creative, technical innovations of his generation bore his namestamp. "I'm surprised that he is aware of that. My achievements have not been noted." They were in his personnel file, but that was not a plus. His superiors were either envious or threatened by his achievements, and they actually made him more suspect to the mental health authorities. Creativity was not valued or rewarded, and was a pittance compared to social reliability. Creative genuises were considered mavericks that had to be closely watched... which was somewhat fair, Risu had to admit. He was certainly a maverick.

"What machine does he have in mind?" Risu smiled then, as cold as the aura radiating from him. "And what's in it for me?" If the robed man could truly see Risu's heart, he would see a heart that was powerful but grown cold and scarred, with a flickering rage deep within like condensced, distilled darkness. Most hearts could not have bourne that poison, but Risu never noticed it.

It was just who he was.
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