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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 9, 2013 16:43:09 GMT -5
It was nighttime in London. 1:00 am, to be precise, from what Mordred could tell. He was staring at Big Ben as it continued counting the time. In his hand was Reaper of Light, whose chain was wrapped around a poor sap who had the unfortunate luck of crossing Mordred. Mordred turned his head to the hapless man and waved his hand. Reaper of Light quickly and effectively took the man's Heart and he sent it away to the fledgling world in the sky. More people were coming to the man's defense, having heard his struggles. Mordred simply adjusted his glasses and put his hands in his pockets. Reaper of Light took care of the attackers, flashing in the moonlight as it sped through, reaping more Hearts. As the bodies disappeared and the Hearts floated up to Mordred's pet project, he sighed. So much work ahead of him and yet so little time.
However, he couldn't stand here and ponder. It was time to get to the high ground. Reaper of Light snaked back into Mordred's robes and the Nobody jumped up to the nearest fire escape and, much like a cat, he bounded between buildings until he managed to get to the rooftops and then continued free running across rooftops and street lamps. Eventually, he managed to get to Big Ben and, once it struck 1:00 am, Mordred froze the clock hands in place and stood on the very point of the minute hand as he looked over the city of London, his cloak billowing in the wind and his hood over his face. He had been going from different places in the city, harvesting as many Hearts as he could. However, it was still a drop in the proverbial ocean. Mordred pondered as he stood there, trying to think of a better plan to make his "Eden" come to life.
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 9, 2013 19:47:31 GMT -5
Jovial Prince of Thieves The city streets, ever active even in the dead of night, was a lure for the thief. He had traveled in search of answers, piecing together his exploits so that he could reach his goal. He sat among patrons of local pub. The air was thick with smoke and the smells that filled the nose were laced with stale ale and foul, left over turn overs filled with meat the butcher had been planning to discard to the local dogs. Zidane sat at his table, gambling for hours now. The game was Black Jack, and his squalled earnings were barely enough to keep the sobriety at bay, fighting the thoughts that kept flooding his mind.
His heart was heavy with worry and want. His greed often got the better of him, blinding him to his responsibilities. But this was something drilled into him since he could remember. 'Tantalus always gets what they set their eyes on', and he so happen to set his eye on the most coveted gem of his world. To earn this gem though he felt he had to prove himself. With strong individuals surrounding his gem, he had not the strength to stand above them on equal ground. He lacked the experience and fortitude to tolerate the courts.
Though the slums were lay paved by the sloven, foul-smelling workman, without them the businesses which nobles are so fond of toying with would cease to be. The winemakers, the tailors and bookmakers were all individuals of a lesser birth. Than there was him. He was a man of the theater, an entertainer. A Jester looking upon the Queen with lust.
He had a winning hand, he knew it, but he has had enough of this place. The thief scratched at his head and placed his cards down. "I fold guys" The others complained about losing a player. Zidane laughed and apologized as he downed the last bit of booze in his mug before rushing to the exit, waving the old guys off. He grabbed his cloak off the coat hanging rack and rushed out into the foggy, early morning where darkness still pervaded. He had almsot forgotten what daylight looked like. He spent the mornings inside, fighting his hangovers, and then nights squatting spots to get a bit closer to the top hat of society around.
For now he would pull his cloak over his shoulders. His clothing was decent enough not to get, too many, second glances, but the way he carried himself, it was obvious he was not of regal or even common blood. The lowest rung on the ladder. The clock struck to the hour and his head rose to glance at the bright face of the old Ben. He shivered as the bitter chill of the early morning, and late evening, nipped at his tail, which snuggly hid inside of his cloak, giving the humans around here no chance to call him a fiend or devil. He pulled his naked arms into his cloak, and made his way down the cobblestone streets of the busy city of London. His head lowered as a deep sigh deflated his puffed
Blue eyes raised to peer passed his sandy, blond bangs. The night always brought uneasiness to the thief. He was aware of the deeds that often occurred when the sun was no where to be seen. A part of life he hoped his court would never learn of... the type of life -- person he really was. Ah well no use thinking about that! No time to really, his stomach churned when it finalyl began to reject his almsot hedonistic consumption of food and alcohol. He hand came to his mouth as he hurried to find a spot and relieve the tension twisting in his stomach.
"Sometimes, you can't think everything out. You have to listen to your heart."
credit to Rach of Delusional & LS Edited by Ou Rex Draco[/size] [/div][/div]
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 10, 2013 19:09:50 GMT -5
Mordred bent at the knees and spied a certain cloaked individual in the distance. Well, more like sensed him. His Heart was almost bursting with Light, shining like a beacon. It was energetic as well, perhaps as a reflection of the Heart Bearer's personality. It was calling out to Mordred, but a strong Heart like that would not be taken with a simple reaping, even if the Nobody had the element of surprise. No, this required more subtle methods.
Mordred released his hold on the clock hands and jumped off, dropping through the air like a missile. However, before he would've hit the ground with an unceremonious splat, he stopped himself, floating ever so gently onto the cobblestone. He then made his way through the alleyways, occasionally taking the high road. His power over kinetic energy made his journey look effortless, as if he knew the city better than the denizens of it. He finally managed to catch up to the strong Heart that had shined so brightly.
It belonged to a rather young man who seemed to be currently regretting his decision to imbibe. Mordred knew that looks could be deceiving so he Analyzed the young man... and got quite the amount of data. He understood why his Heart was so strong and decided that reaping it would be a difficult task. Not impossible, of course, but difficult. Mordred merely stood there, as if frozen and once Zidane had done expelling what was his dinner, he broke the silence.
"Quite the aroma of cheap liquor you have, Zidane Tribal. Did you enjoy your journey among the humans?" Mordred asked, with all the emotion of a statue.
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 10, 2013 19:34:52 GMT -5
Jovial Prince of Thieves He really hated when he forgot his limits, but sometimes he kept going, his thoughts flowing as freely as the liquor. He would have a terrible headache come the morning, but for now he felt relieved to expel the horrendous stuff that caused his stomach to churn. Zidane, was, without a doubt a bright and verily an obnoxious fellow. It was not usually that hard to convince him into partying, but those old foggies did nothing but bring up sensationally boring tales of which he felt needed spicing up. It led to a long set of games, ending in Black Jack. He had to subtly overturn the winnings to odd out in his favor, but after so much drink, trying to cast away the thoughts nagging the back of his mind, he met his limit too soon. He really hated hindsight.
At the sound of his name the thief took a breathe, only to cough at the sudden jerk of conflicting muscle motions. He whipped his head back and pulled his arm over his mouth to protect not only the approaching fellow from flecks and splash of the unsightly expulsion, but his own cloak. His other hand instinctively slipped back as if ready to draw a gun. In this place it appeared uncommon to carry one's weapons in the open unless you were one of authority, so the thief took the precaution of any aware criminal and kept his holster tucked and properly hidden from view.
Wiping off his mouth with his arm he would complete the reaching motion to dig into his satchel and retrieve his handkerchief. He wiped his arm and mouth as blue eyes examined the man across from him. those blue eyes were large and bright. The bit of light that cast from the oil lamps and adjacent windows above the alley ground, bounced off his cerulean orbs, glistening almsot like a cat's. Though his sight was quite normal, his pupils were quite odd and expanded slightly to make use of the available light.
The boy drifted through his mental list os allies and enemies, of which was quite short. The young man had little affection for holding grudges so often ended fights as quickly as he started them. He really could not recognize the fellow, had he met him before. He felt a bit badly of that fact. He either likely went through a great deal of trouble to embarrass this person, or help them, and Zidane could not, for the life of him, remember.
Friend or foe, the boy was all smiles. A sly grin came over his face as he reached up to pat the side of his head with his right hand, the handkerchief tightly gripped between his gloved fingers. "I'm sorry -- have we met?" A bit scratchy from the cough that scraped his throat moments before, he would clear the muscled passage before continuing. "You don't look familiar to me." No matter how hard he tried this fellow was just a stranger to him.
Honestly he had no sense when it came to meetings and passings. They were such commonplace in his life that it was often hard to overcome the selfish disregard of another's existence, even if his intentions were solely on the case of survival rather than callous hatred.
His cloak shielded his body from the cold and his actions. The cloak was a deliberate shell, not for his face, but instead his form. Being rather small he was often mistaken for far younger than he was, which made it easy to get close to others and pat them down for this and that. His expressive blue eyes belayed a keen ability to conceal distinct aspects of the truth, where one forewent ever telling a lie, but never telling the entirety of a situation. He was no cur, or demented brigand. He was a self-proclaimed, charming rogue! His habits wholly served to impress the opposite sex and get him what he so desired.
His heart was an open book to his desire, and it was quite a strong desire born of nearly losing everything. Even still he had a heart and no matter how strongs his desires stood, hearts were among the weakness of all living men and women alike.
"Sometimes, you can't think everything out. You have to listen to your heart."
credit to Rach of Delusional & LS Edited by Ou Rex Draco[/size] [/div][/div]
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 10, 2013 21:31:02 GMT -5
"Hmph." Mordred uttered. His hood was over him, cloaked in a similar fashion to Zidane. All Zidane could really see was two piercing scarlet eyes. Mordred's own cloak was patched in places, evidence of fights long since past. He shrugged and said, "Correct, Zidane. We've never met before. Your Heart told me who you are." That was a... sort of truth. Mordred's Analysis could extend beyond Heart Bearers, though in those cases it tended to be hit or miss, perhaps because of a Heart's lingering presence. In any case, Mordred didn't waste his ability on those creatures. He just eliminated them. Mordred continued standing there incredibly still, almost unnervingly so. He stared at Zidane, rarely blinking.
"I wonder... how your friends would like to see you now. Out on the street, retching from a night of excess. Of course, that's if they know where you even are anymore. How long have you been away from them, little Genome?" Standard questioning for Mordred. He found asking the difficult questions revealed the cracks necessary for Darkness to seep through. Just enough to weaken the Heart. "Of course, that's if they even remember you... perhaps that's why you're in such a state now. It is, isn't it? If your friends don't remember you, then what is left of you? Nothing. Such is the over-reliance on friendship. You beg for any type of company because you can't stand being alone. Being by yourself. Disgusting, really. I expected a strong Heart and I found a coward."
Mordred never allowed himself any sort of emotion, but if he did, it would be about now that a sense of smugness would permeate through his words. His thoughts went towards that particular bit of data he gathered. Three words that were practically begging to be spoken aloud, having been hidden so long. "Then again, what are friends to you, Angel of Death?"
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 10, 2013 21:50:08 GMT -5
Jovial Prince of Thieves This guy was majorly creepy. Talking about some weird mystical shit he really had no intention to try and understand. Zidane was a straight forward person and never cared about what was in or out of a person's heart. It was really their own damn business. It made Zidane wonder if he was a crooked crook as himself. This guy was tall, but he could take him! Ah, he got a bit aggressive when he drank. The boy's actions were always calculated and measured. It was like he was always dancing a ballet and putting on a performance for an audience.
In truth the majority of his behaviors were simply for show. He acted out to garner attention from others, and did what he felt was necessary to push froward as loudly and as energetically as possible. But even the body grew tired sometimes. The excess of energy strained such a fractured an empty tool. Upon the start of his words the thief felt his tail bristle. Who gave a damn what those bastards thought of him!? They were probably doing the same thing back home without him! Bullying him all the time just because he was younger and was always inclined to run off and start all over again.
The inebriated boy began to feel his buzz trickle away and the urge to sway a profane gesture at the man before him. When the word escaped his mouth... Genome. It was not so much to the fact Zidane denied his roots, nor to the more immediate fact was he considered himself more Gaian than Terran, it was the inconsolable fact that this man knew that word. Garland was dead, was he not? The only others who knew that word.... The thief felt his blood boil. Mordred's words continued to trickle from his lips, causing the thief to become rattled with fear.
His friends would never think such things of him, would they? Even if they did, they had a right to.... it was true. He was compelled to fight his own growth. He was not afraid to grow old and die, but it was the constant, belittling, part of him that detested the idea: he really was not one of them. Though they had fought to come stand at his side, cementing the undoubtable fact they would always accept him, he could not accept himself, accept the fact that he was changing.
He did not want to grow up because it meant facing her.
He had to change to be with her, but his canary loved him the way he was. The conflicting processes made him want to pull back his hair and scream. How could he be a thief and stand by her side? Panic struck the thief's chest like a Chocobo Kick. A wash of sobriety filled his head as the blood rushed from his face.
"Then again, what are friends to you, Angel of Death?"
Zidane stood tall as his arms fell to his sides and into his cloak. The boy's head rose in a challenging cock. His gloved finger danced over his holster's latch, unhooking the safety that kept the blades in place as he bounded about during work. His tail slowly slipped from his cloak and curled just before it hit the ground. the extra limb swayed like a metronome counting a pianist's pace. Blue eyes narrowed. Zidane was pissed, more over he was scared. Did this guy do something to his friends? Was he a threat to them?
"You know I don't know what the hell it is you're getting at..." His left hand came to rest over the holster. "But would you mind tellin' me where you're getting all this crap?" Even in anger the boy was calm. It would be headstrong to rush in without all the answers....
But he was also notoriously impatient.
His mind already began working around his predicament. He could barely see this fool's face. If he could get him to reveal a bit of information and his face, he could perhaps rush him, maybe even punch him in the damn face like he deserved.
"Sometimes, you can't think everything out. You have to listen to your heart."
credit to Rach of Delusional & LS Edited by Ou Rex Draco[/size] [/div][/div]
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 13, 2013 17:14:52 GMT -5
Mordred sighed. Must he repeat himself? Regardless, it was coming along nicely. Slowly but surely, Zidane's Heart was opening itself up to Darkness through his anger. Mordred merely shrugged and said, "I already told you, your Heart is an open book. One only need to read it. And yours is a story of how you mask how you really feel to your friends. You lie to them on a constant basis and even deceive yourself. How detestable. Now you're here, finally in a state that reflects the pain your lies have dealt to your Heart. If only you were more true to yourself."
Mordred readied himself for any attack Zidane pulled. Considering his late night of partying, the Nobody didn't expect much of a fight from the thief, but he didn't get this far by underestimating his opponents. He braced himself... by standing in the same position he always did. After all, Zidane didn't know who he was and didn't know what to expect. "I wonder now... are you angry because I have said insulting words... or because I am right?"
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 13, 2013 18:34:22 GMT -5
Jovial Prince of Thieves Zidane's heart, an open book? He kept his position and made sure not to move an inch. He kept a sharp eye on the guy. He knew not if he was a foe or just a jerk, but it was leaning toward jerk. The thief never considered it, but perhaps it was true? It was like when those close to him could always tell, even if he tried his hardest to lie. Zidane would not be easy prey for the interloper though. His emotions were ever changing, his feelings a wash with whatever he thought of. This weirdo was a turn off, an easy way to lose that nice buzz he worked up.
He could not help that he lied to himself. The lies filled a void in his chest he could not comprehend. There was something about himself he could not grasp. Being unable to recognize what belonged in that void, let him looking for a way to fill what was already filled. He did not mean to turn his eye from the truth, but it was something he could not accept.
There was the possibility he could never be with her the way he wished.
It tore him apart. Did he fight to continue a life he was willing to throw away for her, or did he go to her and throw away the only life he knew, for one so markedly different. Was this guy alluding to the fact that he perhaps knew what it was in his heart that even he could not see? This dude was a real bastard and rubbed Zidane the wrong way. The thief was generally well off with anyone, but this guy took the cake today.
At his question the inebriated crook arched a brow. Angry because.... The boy chuckled and lowered his stance slightly, but his actions were strange. Every motion he asserted was calculated in his mind. The handkerchief in his right hand and his blades unlatched from their holster. He made sure to stand so his cloak remained over his hips and shoulders. The sleeves of the cloak covered his arm up to the cuffs he wore on his wrists. Even his feet seemed to point almsot toe to toe in his drunken state, as if to give him balance. His tail was still, the tip twitching as his thoughts jumped back and forth.
He raised his head at the weirdo. This guy was really short sighted. He really thought his words were enough to boil his blood so easily? Zidane was more afraid this stranger had done something to his family, but in the stead this weirdo was trying to play mind games. Nothing, to the thief, was more terrifying than being the cause of his friend's pain, the suffering of his family, but was that not a normality with someone who protected others? They had to have something to lose. He pointed at the creep in front of him. Gloved finger wriggled mockingly.
"Angry? Hell yeah I'm mad!" That bastard should get his tongue cut out, were Zidane a lesser man. With his buzz burned out now, though he was barely able to see straight, he was ready for this freak to lunge him. He could swear he was some sort of mugger, but to steal from a fellow thief was mad! He was unaware that this man was a thief of a very different kind.
Zidane steeled his heart once more. It would take more than this to crack him. The reaper would have to dig deeper: reach into the darkest confines of his heart. Many of his deep, dark fears and detestable thoughts slept there in the edges. Layers of lies did not bother him. Was it not the nature of a thief to lie? No, there was something there that snaked around his heart like a venomous viper and strangled it. It kept him from going beyond.
He was a naive boy with no sense for the power in his heart. The love it had was weighed down by ignorance. He could not recognize this black space, as the embodiment of his emotions. They were still, silent, wishes he could not vocalize. the longer he ignored them, the deeper it ate away into his heart.
"Sometimes, you can't think everything out. You have to listen to your heart."
credit to Rach of Delusional & LS Edited by Ou Rex Draco[/size] [/div][/div]
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 14, 2013 12:11:51 GMT -5
Mordred arched his own eyebrow at the thief. "How eloquent. Yes, we have established you're angry. I was asking about why you were angry." Mordred shrugged again. "I suppose it doesn't matter. Your self-deception hurts you so much more. It will destroy you more and more until you are nothing. If you were true to yourself, to stop hiding who you really are, you would be so much stronger than you are currently. But until you stop lying to your friends and to yourself, that will never be." Mordred then sighed, as if in mock sympathy. "Of course... I sense the truth would hurt your friends. And I guess you detest hurting them... perhaps it would be best to discard them. After all, if they were your friends, why aren't they here to help you? Of course, as an Angel of Death, you don't need any friends."
Mordred shook his head. "But if you wish to continue living as you are now, a complete wreck, very well. It is just a path that will lead to pain and self-destruction. Such is what happens to foolish Heart-Bearers. Best to cast aside that which will only hurt and destroy you." Mordred's Analysis move had recharged, so he used it again and found something else. "Your... brother and sister... Interesting. Well, only family in the loosest sense. How does it feel to leave them alone in your homeworld, while you shove as much alcohol as you can down your throat? I'm sure your they feel betrayed and your brother would be rather angry at such a betrayal. Angry enough to kill... and you would be the one responsible. Mordred continued standing there, waiting for Zidane's next move. Perhaps a trip to Zidane's home world would help corrupt Zidane's heart. The Nobody would have to make a note of that for later. [/hide]
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 14, 2013 14:31:38 GMT -5
Jovial Prince of Thieves Riddled with insecurities, hampered by his inability to grow up. He could not even remember why he ran off to this place. Lamenting sorrow had pulled him here. He woke up and found himself surrounded by destitute. He had to run away. The words this guy spoke were twisted. Like the coiled tail of a Lamia: the end fluttered away distractingly. He honestly could not remember when he started drinking, or had he ever stopped. He was always afraid to let them down, but never could he abandon them.
You already abandoned them once.
"No way!" He began strongly. "I'm no one's Angel of Death..." That title made his heart weak.
How did this man know this things? Was his heart really an open book? His right hand moved to settle over his chest, but paused. Why did he have to prove to this guy what was in his heart? In all honesty Zidane did not even know what it was he kept in there. The thief staggered back, but caught himself in a seemingly strange position. He stared at this man, this dark figure that seemed to know every horrid thing about his life. Everyone had their ups and downs right? Though as of late everything seemed to be down for the thief.
He was responsible for his brother. He was the rolemodel. Even if they never saw eye-to-eye on things, Zidane always felt there was good in everyone. He concentrated, staring at Mordred with a baleful glare. He tried to Detect the nature of this mane. As he did that same unknown answer came up. This guy was bad news, but why was he deemed a shadow? What were these indiscernable creatures? He had met another Shadow before, but they had something to them that was deeper when compared to the way this man's words cut.
Who was this man and why did his words hurt? Words were often no enough to harm his spirit, but everything he said was true. Every note he hit, was what Zidane worried about most. What if Kuja killed someone important to him because of his irresponsibility? What if Mikoto caste him aside when he only wanted to help?
What if his friends gave up on him?
The boy was one easily consumed by loneliness, even if self inflicted. He dreaded, beyond anything else, a day where he was all alone again. Crying, cold, alone. He remembers these feelings. The feeling of a painful blue light out of reach. He perhaps made a wish, for the first time in his life. He wished he could understand why he was here.
"W-what are you?" Vertigo hit as the night of overconsumption finally began to thread its way into his body. His eyes were filled with Darkness as his body seemed to fall back.
Raining. It was raining. He ran down the tunnel calling for help. No answers. The belligerent screams of a distant body as he turned about. Nothing but emptiness, though he could still hear the rain. He concentrated, hoping he could perhaps find the source of this voice, this existence. He ran toward it. The coast? He could hear water lapping against the land, washing away a miserable past he so long ago suffered. Why did he so desperately seek to sit in the light when he worked best in the darkness?
He awoke with a start. A cacophony of rowdy voices washed a familiar sea of comfort upon the boy. Sea? Looking around he found himself perched atop the Crow's nest of a ship at sea. He stood with a start, only to stagger as the blood rushed to his head. It was morning? But were was he? How long was he out? He looked down. A mass of vagrants collected below. They drank and sang and lived a life familiar to him. But -- was he dreaming? Was that guy a dream too? Why was he so disoriented? Perhaps he had been drinking too much today....where had he been drinking?
"Sometimes, you can't think everything out. You have to listen to your heart."
credit to Rach of Delusional & LS Edited by Ou Rex Draco[/size] [/div][/div]
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Post by Deleted on May 14, 2013 19:38:12 GMT -5
Mordred watched as the Zidane threw out his feeble denials. Such a stubborn creature, willing to continue compounding its own suffering. He watched as the young thief seemed to have his own internal conflict. Zidane then asked Mordred what he was before finally succumbing to his intoxication. Mordred walked to him and knelt down beside him. He might have answered the question, but it was pointless now that Zidane was out cold. The Nobody saw his opportunity and deigned to take it. He raised his hand, ready to steal the thief's Heart right out of his body. However, as he struck, the thief disappeared, causing Mordred's hand to smash into the cobblestone ground. For a few seconds, Mordred was frozen in place, his mind piecing the events together. He then sighed and stood up.
"Typical." Mordred muttered, "Worlds act in strange and mysterious ways... I'll have to scour the lands again for this Heart." Mordred then heard something and looked behind him. A cadre of policeman had found him and sought to arrest him. The Nobody sighed again and waved his hand. As the Policemen charged at him, a Corridor of Darkness sprung up from under Mordred, enveloping him in Darkness. It then sank back under the ground, leaving the policemen bewildered, one of them having passed through the spot where the Nobody stood being particularly confused.
As Zidane had awoken, he may have seen that none of the pirates had suddenly tried to attack him. This is because Mordred had just arrived as well and was currently distracting the pirates by intruding on their ship. The pirates were about to attack the Nobody and Mordred just stood there, as if letting them attack. However, they would soon find that Mordred was no mere scientist. He took his glasses and threw them at the nearest pirate. As he caught them and was bewildered by the action, Mordred sped to him and kneed him hard in the stomach, causing the glasses to fly up out of the pirate's grasp. Mordred then brought Reaper of Light to his grasp, slicing the pirate and harvesting the Heart within. The Nobody then grabbed his glasses, lowered his hood and put them back on. He had blonde hair, red eyes and pale skin. His face seemed permanently stuck on an indifferent expression, even in the midst of chaos. The pirates called for reinforcements, which turned out to be Pirate Heartless and Air Pirate Heartless. At this point, Zidane was now noticed and any nearby enemies would attack him.
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Pirate Heartless: x4
Air Pirate Heartless: x3
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Post by Deleted on May 15, 2013 18:26:07 GMT -5
Jovial Prince of Thieves The thief leaned over the edge of the Crow's Nest and circled along the banister as the commotion now seemed to center itself. It was that guy again! Seems he rubbed these sea pirates the wrong way. His tail stood up on end at surprise. One of them faced him down. This guy was pretty skinny and obviously outnumbered. Those were not good odds for anyone. As much as this guy annoyed him, even he did not deserve to be bloodied up by these sorts of thugs.
"Het look out--!" But before the warning could complete itself on his lips, his voice faded out when the cloaked fellow attacked using an underhanded technique.
This guy was a bit more dangerous than Zidane understood. The crowd burst out to action. It sounded like backup was called, but to Zidane;s shock, something very not human, inked out from the murky crowds of writhing forms. Blue eyes caught sight of these strange creatures that swarmed out and collected among the pirates. That guy was in serious trouble! The thief mentally batted away on what to do. He was still highly distressed. This place was not one he recognized and the words spoken to him earlier still chilled him to the bones, but he could not submit to the pretty words of some stranger. What was his goal?
Zidane looked up and found himself spotted by these creatures. Well it seemed that did not matter anymore. The booze had washed out his system, with dire effects. His head was pounding, so all this noise was an irritant. As one of the flying creatures swooped up, Zidane found himself with no floor or ceiling. He was not one for long ranged fighting with just his daggers at his side, which he recalled... they were still unlatched! The thief kicked out of the crow's nest most recklessly. The idea of looking before one leapt was not one Zidane was really keen on.
As he feel his eyes quickly shifted and hands went out. His gloved, right hand gripped onto a nearby rope as his left settled on his holster to keep his blades in place. His tail curled around the rope and the boy hoisted himself along, shuffling gracelessly. When he made it to the mast the thief would shimmy his way up like a monkey up a banana tree. He pulled himself onto the vertical, outreaching poles of the mast and stood in a partial crouch. He drew his blades from their resting place and glared toward the creature. This is not something he has ever seen before. Shadows maybe? Related to that fellow? His Detect had determined them both this, but something about this thing and that, unsettled him.
"Come at me flunkie!" Zidane lunged out with his blades, boot kicking off his perch. He was reckless above ground and on the ground alike. It did not matter to him, hopefully these ropes could hold his weight because if his daggers struck or missed, he was going down regardless and dropping like a rock.
"Sometimes, you can't think everything out. You have to listen to your heart."
credit to Rach of Delusional & LS Edited by Ou Rex Draco[/size] [/div][/div]
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 28, 2013 11:08:56 GMT -5
Pests. That's all these pirates and Heartless were. In the grand scheme of things, they weren't much more than fodder for Eden's construction. He was about to prove it, too. He put his hands together and concentrated Kinetic Energy into his hands. Suddenly, everyone in the area felt like they were being pulled to Mordred, as if the Nobody were a magnet. However, it didn't last long as the chain-sickle suddenly slashed all around him at the pirates, who were already too close to him for comfort. Three of the Heartless had disappeared in the carnage and the pirates didn't fare too well, either, as more of their number were harvested for their Hearts. The Pirates retreated as they watched their companions' Hearts float to the sky.
Free to pursue whatever he wished, he looked up to find his quarry fighting the Air Pirates, who were attacking him. He also noticed a regular Pirate Heartless climbing up the ropes to get to Zidane. Mordred sighed and jumped up to the ropes. He landed on them and then walked slowly towards Zidane along the ropes with seemingly perfect balance. He swung his chain-sickle at the Pirate Heartless, which was defeated instantly as the weapon sliced through him. He then continued walking towards Zidane, staring at the Genome with his Scarlet eyes.
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Supermassive Black Hole - Mordred gathers Kinetic Energy from the environment around him, shifting gravitational forces so that his opponents are dragged towards him. Once they're in range, Mordred unleashes a sadistic 8-hit combo with his Reaper of Light before releasing that Kinetic Energy, sending everyone around him flying. The more people that are caught in this move, the less damage is done, due to the Reaper of Light having hit so many bodies in so little time. This move can be resisted, but only by the strongest of wills and awareness of what's about to unfold. [Cooldown: 5 rounds]
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 29, 2013 16:42:55 GMT -5
Jovial Prince of Thieves He could feel something chilly crawl up his spine. Below the screams of the pirates as they rend into their enemy were loud, blistering to his ear. He was never one to get along with those sorts: vagrants, murderers. The boy launched himself off the mast and at the flying heartless. "Take this!" He held out his left blade as he jumped, right arm pulling back as if he was drawing an arrow back to notch on the string of a bow.
The vibrant, magenta blade of the Mage Mashers continued to draw upward as he arched swung the blade,drawn by his arm, in a circular motion, over his head. He twisted his entire body as his arm pulled back and slashed out in a half circle and ripped the jagged knife across the abdomen of the Heartless. He had put all of his weight into the slash so he made sure it cut through with plenty of pain to spare. Of course this left him in free fall. He turned so his back was to the ground. He had seconds to respond to his environment. In a profession such as his, he had to take in his surroundings completely and quickly as it was a position between life and death. He reached out and grabbed onto the rope that slung from the masts. The interconnecting ropes are what the pirates used to maneuver along the masts, little different from an airship, except this one was in water and not thousands of meters in the sky.
He grunted at the recoil of his muscles when they were suddenly locked in place when he grabbed out to the slightly shedding rope of twine. There were many reasons he wore gloves and it was at this moment one of many reasons became apparent. He made sure to hold onto his blades and moved so his foot coiled into one of the notches the ropes made. His tail. He scaled along the web of rope, but was suddenly jostled and nearly taken out by a wave of motion that spread across the ropes so suddenly. He looked over toward where he had felt the vibrations. His tail was held out from his body and slightly curled up as he shifted his weight on the unsteady surface. There was another one of those black creatures. These guys and that loon were definitely not one in the same kind of darkness. These were not normal shadows.
He hurried up along the top of the rope net and proceeded to shimmy across, keeping balance best he could, toward the mast he had originally stood on. He looked down to see the other had been stalking after him, but soon the Heartless was defeated in a single blow by the nut from earlier. This was not good. He was staring at him with those creepy eyes. Practically undressing him! The thief looked toward the pirates. They seemed terrified. He had not seen the act of the collecting hearts, and had merely assumed the screams to be the pirates slicing into their opponent. This guy was dangerous. To take out so many enemies on his own? Zidane knew he was reckless, but not when it came to fighting.
His heart began to thunder. Mordred knew too much about him and it was terrifying. Angel of Death. Though it was what he was born to be, he did not want to become the reason for someone else's sadness. He had seen too many tears already and seen so much death. What good did it do? What good did all of this killing do?! What was it that this mad man wanted?! Zidane had nothing to give! He was not that strong! He clenched his grip tightly around the Mage Mashers as his crouched down in a ready position. His shimmering, blue eyes glared at the pale, stoic features that were the Nobody's.
"Who are you?! What are you?! What the hell do you want from me?!" This bastard was getting on his last nerves.
The question still ate at the back of his mind: why was he here? It was true, he had originally intended to hide, run away from his problems until he had some semblance of an answer. He always was soft, in that sense. He knew he had a place to return to, but he was not strong enough yet. His failures were things he was strongly aware of, more so than his successes. His bravado was all a show, after all he was an actor and it was his propagative to play his role.
But role did he play?
This is what he struggled with most. Leaving the gang that time was different. He was not being a selfish brat looking to get his way, but instead he did it for the sake of another. This other person he could not get off his mind. His canary, his treasure and reason for returning. Even though he knew where he belonged, what role did he play in it all? Was he a thief? Was he a lover? A fighter?
An Angel of Death?
"Sometimes, you can't think everything out. You have to listen to your heart."
credit to Rach of Delusional & LS Edited by Ou Rex Draco[/size] [/div][/div]
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Apr 23, 2024 1:31:07 GMT -5
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Post by Deleted on May 30, 2013 14:30:13 GMT -5
Mordred stopped before Zidane and stared down at him. Had he even blinked since the thief met him? He squatted down, seemingly able to keep his balance on the rope net. "I am... once was." Mordred said, still that same monotone indifferent voice as before. He did not feel the need to disguise what he was to the Genome. "I am a shell, dancing on the line between existence and oblivion." Mordred adjusted his glasses as he continued. "As for what I want... my goal is to eliminate the need for war and despair. You are among many needed for this." Mordred stood back up and looked down at the remaining pirates, who immediately fled below deck. "Needless strife born out of greed... with no steps taken to improve or eliminate it. Those who could only treat the symptoms, not the problem. And one wonders why the Worlds are in such a state of decay."
Mordred looked back at Zidane. "I, on the other hand, wish to eliminate the needless war and strife and do what those with Hearts are unable or are unwilling to do. You are among the many keys necessary to accomplish this goal. I'm afraid whether or not you comply is unnecessary. Besides, what else could you possibly be doing? Finding friends who may already be Heartless? Going to a home that's probably been destroyed by the Heartless? Of course, if you cared enough about friends or a home, you wouldn't be drunk in an alley, would you?" As he finished, Mordred readied himself to take Zidane's Heart as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
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Supermassive Black Hole - Mordred gathers Kinetic Energy from the environment around him, shifting gravitational forces so that his opponents are dragged towards him. Once they're in range, Mordred unleashes a sadistic 8-hit combo with his Reaper of Light before releasing that Kinetic Energy, sending everyone around him flying. The more people that are caught in this move, the less damage is done, due to the Reaper of Light having hit so many bodies in so little time. This move can be resisted, but only by the strongest of wills and awareness of what's about to unfold. [Cooldown: 4 rounds]
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