Recent Content by Hexin
Another 365/2 days story!!
Brief Synopsis of Story: What if the idea of Xion had never been conceived by the Organization? What would Roxas's outcome have been as Number XIII of this group? What about Axel? Without Xion in the 365/2 days story, how would this indirectly impact Riku on his journey to capture Roxas and save Sora? Would it even be possible? HNNNGHH
Genre(s)/Theme(s) of Story: adventure, action, slice of life, drama, fantasy
Desired Rating for Story: T
Type of Story: 5 Chapters (but I'm not too sure on that)
Main Character(s)/Main Pairing: Roxas, Axel, Riku
Supporting Character(s): Mickey, Axel, Xemnas, Xigbar, Saix, DiZ, Namine, Hayner, Pence, Ollete, Seifer and gang.
Setting(s): TWTNW, T.T, Agrabah, Beast's Castle, Olympus C., Halloween T., Wonderland, Neverland,
What do you most like about Kingdom Hearts?: The crazy plot and it's twists. The character interactions. The action is by far creative; even though it's seen in other fantasy games. The adventure and journeying to other worlds is also one of the things that makes Kingdom hearts so unique.
What do you like about KHVs?: Community. The News.
What to do you want to see out of this story?: I honestly just want to see what becomes of Roxas. Xion's existence in the story was what pulled Roxas into doing what he inevitably ended up doing. It also caused him to actively think about who he was or what he was, and why the keyblade chose him. Without Xion in the story, I'm curious to see how Roxas's destiny may have played out. Would he still be able to dual wield? Would he have becomeanother vessel for Xehanort the way Saix and Xigbar did (considering the whole point of Org. XIII was to have XIII vessels)
Is it okay to ask for your input if I need it?: Yes
Would you like me to give you credit for the idea? No
Dedicate this Story to You?: Can it be to someone else? Want to show this to someone. Haha..
Anything else?: If the story has to be longer, then by all means. I don't really think you need to full on explain what happens in each world, but perhaps mention them. Same for characters. Your story!
D'daear hadn't even laid a finger on the witch and yet she had the audacity to strike him like some common enemy!! The nerve of some villians. D'daear stood his ground, but not without feeling the pain from Mizrabel's attack. Doing his best with what he could, he shook off the pain knowing full well that he wasn't the only one having taken a hit. Mizrabel being the miserable witch that she was assaulted them once more, and this time hitting hard as usual. The fray was too much and his eyes couldn't pay close attention to the details, but it was obvious some of his teammates had taken a rather hard hit. At this point it was a race to take out the hag before they were all thwarted. D'daear darted to the large squad of keywielding allies that were assaulting the big bad witch, and made a jump into the air; swinging his keyblade down hard with one arm.
D'daear dealt 27 Damage!
Just when he had finished his door adventure. A witch named Mizrabel made herself known from nowhere and trapped everyone inside treasure chests; except a few people apparently. There was a lot of noise going on while Mizrabel herself was cackling in enjoyment. D’daear was feeling hella cramped, beginning to feel very uncomfortable and possibly the beginnings of a new phobia. From sheer growing agitation, the chest began to shake from his frantic movement as he was trying to find a way out of this claustrophobia inducing chest. Feet scuffling and familiar voices emanating one at a time outside could only indicate people were being freed. With relief, he was able to calm down a bit knowing he’d be freed any moment now. On cue, his chest was opened and D’daear sprung out with great relief. He turned to Glen and nodded.
“Thanks Glen! You’re Godse-”
He took a quick look at Glen.
“Are you wearing new duds?” he asked, but attention being deficit as he quickly started scanning the area.
Looking about the room, it was mayhem with teammates scurrying to free everyone while others went on the assault to attack Mizrabel. And now that he noticed Glen's attires, it seemed most if not all of his teammates had gotten a wardrobe change. Joining the mayhem, Keyblade was summoned, excusing himself from Glen as he ran to the nearest chest. With a big ol’ whack the treasure chest was opened.
D’daear Freed Beauce!
(OOC: My inevitable poop post. Don't bother reading it. Seriously. Except for the last part where I say to everyone. Hah)
Arriving to the beam of light protruding off into the abyss, it was a surprise to find every cast member of this key wielding force lounging about on the snowy trail. It appeared although they were all cast to the darkness, the light deep within was able to guide them to one another. D’daear had always thought what Base had told him was to be taken as a mere metaphor. Never did he imagine it to be taken literal. The young man has much to learn indeed. The dialogue kicked off soon enough in regards to the white robed man; whom D’daear at first was very uncomfortable with but saw that everyone was rather comfortable with. There were two mice as well, but he merely brushed their existence aside; not that he was being mean hearted or anything. Falling to the status quo, he merely accepted the White robed man and his intentions just like everyone else.
He kept to himself as usual, and merely watched from the back as explanations to the situation were thrown to interpretation, and revelations were made to Hikaru and friends. It was a lot to take in, but at the same time with the way things were the young key wielder had learned to just take it as is. Not to say he did not care, so much so that wanting to care had proven to be much more troublesome than it was worth. To worry is to waste precious time indulging it. Better to let things be, especially when the situation is literally out of your control..
Deep down, however, that was not how D’daear liked things to be. The idea of not being in control; of one’s own destiny or fairytale for that matter, had driven him to an imbalanced state. He had plans, goals, dreams, ideals, and a mission. Yet, it seems for whatever reason his fate became intertwined with this story. The group’s story. Things happen for a reason as the saying goes, but never without its repercussions that ripple throughout. That much he knew, and the more you think of those ripples the more you wish you had control. At least, that’s what D’daear wanted. Control over his fears, situation, and consequences. To him it was not fair, and it stung the wound worse to not even have the power to bring favor.
As soon as the apparent Ally had redirected their attention to a now visible castle, irises widened in renowned focus and surprise. The royal prestige the castle displayed is a universal concept. Different design, same behemoth stature. Its towering presence brought out awe in D’daear every time. No surprise he’d feel the same way when eyes fell upon this castle’s structure. Just like in fairtytales.
It rung a hymn in his heart. Yet, with everything he’d experienced up until this point, he didn’t know whether or not to correlate castles with a positive or negative sentiment. Beast’s castle, Haven, Wasteland, and even Disney Castle have all fallen to a terrible fate. Even what had happened to HER that day was in the presence of a castle. The castle; their castle, had swallowed her with its stone maw. By the time he had reached her, it was too late. He had been left with hands ill pressed against the cold slabs known as gates. The loneliness, fear, and uncertainty of that day. He could still feel it to this very moment. Perhaps such a prestigious estate could only be a bad omen of things to come.
The castle had spellbound D’daear for a while, so much so that he had not realized his allies had already begun taken foot inside. Gasping he went after them if not with a little reluctance. When stepping inside the castle, he was met with the group whom had already begun to divide themselves as they all walked off to different doors; albeit not all at once.
Being among the last to enter the castle, he had gotten a relative idea of where he was supposed to go. Of all the doors, there was one that stood out the most. His eyes stroked from afar the letters inscribed above a door. It read:
D’daear hesitantly made his way towards the door. It was obvious that each door was meant for someone specific; else there’d either be a ton of people outside discussing which door to take, or people would at least be going in groups to a certain door. Well maybe that and he doubted that he was the only one with a door to his name like if some mysterious tug was swaying him to a special destiny. Considering all the strange stuff they’ve been through, this also played a factor in the obvious. Come to think of it, these doors had a strange déjà vu feel to them. Reminded him of a certain monochrome world with portals that led the group involved to specific points in time. Hmm..
At his leisure, D’daear walked up a specific flight of stairs that led him to his door among others. Steps halted for a moment at the front of the door. He wanted to know what awaited him beyond this door without actually setting foot first, but after making a quick scan of the doors frame or split doors, there was nothing to hint of what to expect. No design, no hidden inscription. Reluctantly, hands pressed themselves against the doors which surprisingly were proving to be heavy. Calling upon his arms, he worked to part the doors from each other, pushing with heavy soles. Head looked on ahead in order to get a sneak peek of what was to come, but irises were blinded by a light that suddenly burst from the slowly parting doors. It was inevitable to shut his eyes.
The stars glow like radiant jewels in the cloudless sky. A prairie rustles with the wind on an island not far off from a city looming in the horizon. The island known for its many uncovered mysteries rests peacefully, undisturbed, and uninhabited by people. The prairie has a hill where one can easily view the oceans horizon. The very few who have visited the island have said you can see the mainland and the city from up there. With the yellow shards of light that fall from the heavens like the beginning of snow, and the city lights, it is said the city appears to be in a radiant mist.
Mimicking the light of the city, the hill on the prairie emanated a faint glow in its horizon. An orb of translucent light emerged from a woman’s chest in perfect harmony, floating off in a solo waltz while the woman remained stationary with her arms in a welcoming gesture. Her eyes were closed in a serene expression as the orb of light gently lowered itself to the grassy bed that was the prairie. The light burst into a bright flash before subsiding to reveal an infant wrapped in a white cloth. A blade hit the ground with a thud while the woman fell to her knees before limply falling to her side. Purple hair clustered over her face as she lay there peacefully after succumbing to the strenuous ordeal of giving birth. They would lay there a while with the soft touch of wind spiriting past them every so often..
When the woman came to consciousness, her arm was carefully laying over the baby, sheltering the infant while she slept. How the baby got to be underneath her arm, she didn’t know, but for certain she was glad to have the baby in arms. Carefully rising with infant cradled, the blade laying on the prairie dispersed into the light as the mother with child walked away.
A desolate plain where life has all but ceased to coexist, two sides crashed with fury in a violent clash between right and wrong in this wasteland forged from years of geological history. Various canyons, and mountains having been shaped by nature’s gentle command have now fallen to wars forceful decree. Cries of all tone and pitch reverberate throughout the battlefield in the mixture of metal clangs and sparks. The heat of magic chars intended foes and scorches the field, and the freeze of cold magic leaves its enemies still and shattered. For nearly a day the sound of explosions resounded in the ears of warriors whilst metal clashes becoming their tune in years of tempered swordsmanship.
On a summit overseeing the landscape, blades roared at their adversary in fiery blows as three warriors’ battle to the others end. One of the three is nimbly avoiding the others deadly bite with masterful foot and quick motions of their blade in parrying response to the other twos duo like skills. Wearing a helm with silver metal protecting the maw all the way to the back of warrior’s skull, a black glass like visor keeps the warriors face veiled from the two assailants. Armor consisted of rib like patterns, skin tight to the wearer that one would think the armor was actually made of the persons fascicles, fasciae, and tendons (Muscle fibers); making it look more like an organic-looking bodysuit worn all over the body rather than armor. Purple Belt straps buckle together to hold a shredded red/blue kilt. The armor taking on the figure of the warrior, it was without a doubt that the two assailants were fighting a female clad in intimidating armor. This was Delothia, and she was playing a key role in this violent of light and dark.
That is to go without saying that out of the two assailants, one of the metal clad assailants was also a female. This warrior’s name was Gwynt and a brutal swing from the organic suited warrior had nearly lopped her head off had the warrior not footed her body properly. The opposing blade smashed onto the side of Gywnt’s helm, ripping off a nice chunk of metal and exposing emerald eyes that roared with unshakable strength as she backed off to recollect herself; while the taller assailant covering her footing by parrying another swing from Delothia.
Running up the side of the summit, a tall boy with long strands of purple wafting in the air current could be seen with terror in his eyes. The wild sounds of fury resonated deeply in the air. Shards of light was being uplifted into the air around the clock, and it was terrifying D’daear. He made a left into a small tight pathway which required him to squeeze on through. Upon reaching the other side, he was met with a clearing with which he could take a nice breather. The door had led him to the heart of the battlefield where the chaos was ensuing. The scenery had knocked the wind out of him from the moment he had opened his eyes. An explosion had carved a 6 foot trench near D’daear and the concussive force had sent him flying back a few feet at the time. When he had gotten on his feet, it was a race to get out of that danger zone until he arrived to where he was now. It was odd however, as somehow he just knew where to run. As if guided by some unseen force.
Allowing his lungs to have their fill of oxygen, ears perked at the sound of battle hardened warriors engaged in combat. It was coming from nearby. Out of curiosity, he meticulously made his way to where the noise was coming from, and peered around the corner. Blue irises widened at the sight of the three warriors clashing blades. The woman with the shredded kilt was holding her own against the other two. Her movements reminded him of someone, especially the manner in which she held her weapon. With blade facing the opposite direction, she held the blade to her back instead of the normal position. The movements here were a bit unrefined; as far as he could tell, but it definitely struck him as familiar. Not to mention that he had this feeling of familiarity with the masked warrior.
Being from where he was, he could not get a solid view on the three. Wanting to get a closer look, he began to climb a top of some rock formations in order to better see from above rather than risk getting closer from the ground floor. He was frightened to say the least, but he could not stop himself. It was as if instinct was drawing him to continue watching.
Delothia had jumped back in order to avoid a mighty swing from the taller warrior, and in retaliation she twirled the blade to a standard grip; a keychain was now visible from the angle and position d’daear was currently watching from. The tip of the blade was aimed at the two and a ball of black plasma was conjured before being unleashed onto the two. The taller warrior took a step forward speedily and swung his blade with great strength and precision. The Plasma and sword clashed for a brief moment, the man’s feet skidding against the dirt in the struggle for dominance. With a loud cry he called upon the muscles of his arm broke through the ball of black energy, unleashing a bang followed by black smog that engulfed the warrior and the area.
The man was caught off guard, but the smog soon break free just enough as Delothia made her way through with her weapon to deliver a strong slice along the of the man’s torso. The armor was strong enough to withstand the blow, but it was left scarred and it wasn’t strong enough to completely nullify the damage. Feet fumbling, tall warrior fell back in pain quickly having to scurry to his feet as the masked woman was rather vengeful and had attempted to follow up her bite with a finishing blow. Delothia’s blade stabbed at the spot where the warrior should have been, only missing him by a second. Gwynt jumped in to fend off the dark warrior in order to give themselves a nice gap. With a quick exchange of parries, they backed off each other.
“You should have finished me back then, Gwynt. You wouldn’t be dealing with me now If you’d just done away with me!” Delothia taunted.
Emerald eye looked powerful with the scowl that could be seen from the broken helm that Gwynt was still wearing. Red strands of hair flowed out of the helm, velvet in their texture. She stood in front of the man who was slowly getting up, armor weighing him down from exhaustion. Being vulnerable for the moment, the red headed warrior was his line of defense. Taking a step forward, eye softened in expression.
“This fighting is senseless… We can help you. You don’t have to suffer like this…”
The masked warrior bent her head, hands tightening. Kilt swayed gently with a passing wind while she seemed to contemplate.
With the fighting having dulled, D’daear was able to get a good look at the weapon the three had in hand, especially the masked warrior. His blue irises widened in realization as to the identity of their weapons.
Gwynt’s image reflected off of Delothia’s helm as the head lifted itself.
“Hey! What’s your problem? I’m trying to h-!”
“Do you know what it’s like to have had- No, to STILL have three separate hearts forming yours?!” Delothia exclaimed back at D’daear.
It stopped the adolescent dead in his tracks, any form of traction he may have had in this argument was now over. The purple haired woman took a few steps towards him.
“EVERY…..DAY I’m left wondering who I am. When I’m out there fighting, helping THEM fight the darkness… I feel like I don’t belong there. I can sense their very disdain for me whenever we’re out there fighting this stupid war.” She paused, down casting for a bit. “Do you know what it’s like to be a slave to an idea? T-to be- He indoctrinated me to think, to BE a certain way… ”
By now her voice was quivering, trying it’s best to conceal a pain in her tone. She looked up and gave him a deep scowl, holding back the perspiration.
“He betrayed my trust. Used me. And threw me away like some soldier that had played their part...” those last words bringing a revelation in her eyes. “I-I-I…I could FEEL him controlling my every muscle and sinew... Like I had no will of my own, D’daear. You get that? And a part of him is still with me, his presence I can feel every day. He’s still there, haunting me in my darkness.” She placed hand on her own chest. “It doesn’t matter what THEY did to make me whole again. If he’s still there, then I’m not free yet. I’m scared he’ll claim me again. Control me again. If my heart isn’t my own, then I’m not ME yet. I don’t even think there ever was a ME to begin with… I’m just a fake… I don’t know who I am…”
Her Emerald green eyes narrowed at D’daear, scowl having dissipated.
“THAT’S my problem…”
A much older Delothia is seen standing on a road made of stone leading to the castle of Perfec Eev. D’daear takes a few steps in her direction before stopping 3 meters away from her. Beside him, a black anthropomorphic rabbit stands next to him at about 3 feet in height. The boy gives the woman a gaze, almost transfixed in solemnity. It wasn’t a real person, at least not this version of Delothia. It was merely a guide taking on her form, much like Oswald who was standing next to him.
She speaks. “What is most important to you?”
“The ones I care about. Seeing them safe, happy, and thriving in life. That’s what’s important to me.” He said, eyes averting the woman’s gaze for a moment in contemplation before reaching a resolution. “Yeah, even if it’s at my expense…”
The black rabbit leaned forward a bit, curiously staring up at D’daear.
“…So finding Della. That’s what’s important to me right now…”
“What do you want out of life?” she asked.
“To become stronger. To be able to take hold of my own fate, and understand… that it’s not up to me… But it’s how I can handle myself. How I come across such strength, I don’t care. But as long as I can find the strength to protect those I care about, then I’ll be ok with my consequences…”
“What are you so afraid of?”
“Not so much what’s out there, but so much so the twists and turns I may face… It’s not knowing how to deal or handle those situations that scare me. Even more so alone.”
Not saying another word, the purple haired woman merely smiled and removed herself from his path. As D’daear walked on by with the black rabbit right beside him, Delothia spoke just as the stone gates were closing behind D’daear.
“Worlds unfold much differently than in fairytales. Their fates are written with multiple possibilities, but ultimately one ending. I’m happy to know you finally understand that.”
Turning his head slightly to see the woman with peripherals, D’daear nodded his head before looking onwards toward the castle that awaited him.
“Thanks Grandma.” He uttered with a hopeful smile.
The Gates closed shut behind him and the two proceeded onward.
D’daear exited door XXXVI, seeing everyone all gathered. Proceeding to join the group, he gave them all a relaxed wave and a, “Hello.”, before noticing the new faces.
D’daear kept an eye on Kaida’s knife chipping away at some block of wood. How or why she had a block of wood was beyond him, and it struck him as odd. Out of all the things one could do to kill time in a quiet group. Well he couldn’t blame them for being quiet. They were probably about as moody as him right now, distressed over their second defeat (or third?). Putting hands in his pocket he simply kept on walking beside the two while occasionally looking back at Kaida’s block of wood. It was a good distraction from the gloomy atmosphere the three were experiencing. After sometime walking, Kaida finally spoke her mind which to some degree was in his as well.
Eyes narrowed at her last words as he averted his line of sight to the ground. Bangs assisted in his downcast. “…Yeah…” was all he managed, not attempting to bring his head back up. He wanted to engage in this conversation, but something inside wouldn’t let him speak. He wanted to share his thoughts, but he felt restricted by his own heart. The thought of admitting defeat was too painful. They were supposed to have gotten stronger not weaker. It seemed every time they won one battle, the enemy would win five more. On top of that, Aux had humiliated the entire group, rubbing in his ideals. Even now D’daear could still feel the sore spot where that monster had punched him.
As a few minutes passed without saying anything, it felt pointless to talk about it now. He let out a faint sigh while remaining on course with the group to the beam of light off in the distance.
While Steel held D’daear in his arms, the violet haired adolescent thought about how useless he had become. Aux had battered and beaten the crew the last time outside of Beast’s castle when Belle needed them most, and now when DisneyTown needed saving all they could do was fall prey to their great reliance of the keyblade. They were defeated. Once again Aux proved to them how exaggerated the gap in strength there was between them. With no keyblade to fight with they were all meant to be taken apart by this hulking mass of muscle and darkness. D’daear’s abdomen still pulsed with the pain that Aux had inflicted on him earlier.
No such thing as a happy ending is there?
Is that something we’re supposed to earn?
When hope begins to rise, darkness is always there to challenge it
Without strength to fight back, what hope is there?
There’s no point to any of this if they’re always steps ahead of us
Is there truly strength in deep darkness?
D’daear, get up or you’ll be late…!
A consciousness shakes awake.
Hhnngghh…. I can’t see….
No wait I’m wrong… it's just really dark…
Pitch black… it’s as if I’ve lost my sight…
Eyes struggled to pry open from the powerful sleep that chained D’daear to rest and lay still. Through the sliver of eyelids, all he could see still was a deep blackness that beckoned him to remain there, to feel content with his sleep. Bare arms cringed at the touch of a cold surface which bedded the young man’s form. Slowly they maneuvered so that palms can grip at the floor to push the torso off the ground. The first thing that became obvious was how much effort it required to lift himself off the ground. The rise immediately punished his head with a daze spell, as if he wasn’t supposed to be getting on his feet.
"Wh-whe… wh-where am I…?"
He placed a hand on his head as if trying to hold the world steady from spinning. Being surrounded by pitch darkness made it even worse for him to gain balance.
“I guess Aux never heard of foot powder…” he jested badly, remembering his foot being placed on his skull.
With irises barely opened he began to scan his surroundings. With an environment dressed in blackness, it made it rather difficult to locate a direction for him to start heading towards to. The fact that there was no moon also didn’t help the search. The thought of it being night time had occurred to him, but for there to be no moon or source of light anywhere made him skeptical to the idea. It was cold, damp, and the feeling of being watched was very strong the moment he got up.
“Where am I supposed to go…?” he inquired rhetorically, obviously not expecting an answer. It would in fact have been creepy if he did receive a response.
Attention quickly diverted to the area behind him, entire mind now on edge. Eyes focused deep into the darkness, trying to locate the source of that sound. He wanted to speak, but he was a little frightened. His name was spoken once more, this time his eyes setting themselves on a figure off in the distance. Hand quickly motioned to summon keyblade out of habit, albeit nothing happened.
“H-hello?” he called out.
Acquiring no response yet his legs were moving mindlessly in the direction he was facing. By the time he reached the spot where the figure was, it had vanished. Having disappeared into the darkness.
“So where exactly is it that we’re going…?” he inquired the group.
D’daear followed the leader or rather the ball of light that was illuminating their path for them. It had been a journey of words being exchanged followed by a period of silence. Rinse and repeat. None of them knew for how long they had been walking for. It felt like hours, but who would know for sure. It was becoming dull, and the time wasted in walking only gave way for insecurities to surface and have their way with D’daear every now and then during the silence. Suddenly Raisor points out the large beam of light in the opposite direction to which D’daear would stop and turn to have a look see himself. Eyes were staring directly into the light, indifferent to the bright rays that protruded through the darkness.
“Where’d that come from?” he asked for the sake of asking.
He took a look back at the orb of light that was illuminating their path, and then back to the giant beam of light off in the distance. It had appeared out of the blue and now it was there lighting the area brightly. If they had to choose a general direction, bets were on the giant beam of light. Without question, he followed Raisor now instead of the orb of light, motioning for Kaida to follow suit.
Following right behind the entire group, he just makes it onto the scene in time to see a white cloaked man carrying the cornerstone of light. All eyes were no doubt on this unknown individual as he spoke with a cause. D'daear faintly recognized him as the man from the black and white world, and wanted to speak out but it seems like someone already had that covered. Hikaru shouted at the man as his final words were, "Follow the beacon..."
And with that the man had escaped with the cornerstone of light, forsaking this world to it's apocalyptic doom. D'daear took a step forward, dumbfounded by what just happened. So much was happening in such a small span of time. It was becoming hard to register this moment. The bad guys have been having one mean win streak as of late. They've been winning the big battles while the keyblade crew's been barely scrounging up the small wins. Without the cornerstone of light, this world was now in serious trouble. To make things worse, they were just as vulnerable as they ever were. The heartless were spawning outside the castle. It wouldn't take long for those creatures to creep their way in here.
Hands curled as the usual response to frustration. There was literally nothing they could do to stop all this nor to get away from it. No keyblade meant no form of transportation. No keyblade meant no form of protection or a way to fight off the invasion. Eyes were spacing out in fruitless contemplation. Was this it? The end of their hard fought journey? They have come so far, more so than others, and all to just lose everything. Now they were about to lose themselves to this darkness. He stood there in silence, brain just drawing blanks in desperation while still trying to believe that all this was really happening. There were no options; at least none he could think of. "Just... what are we going to do-"
"Indescribable isn't it? All that power?"
All eyes were on the man who had spoken those words now as he made himself known. Shocked, D'daear's eyes widened as a tall bulky masked man took a step closer to the group. It was none other that Aux; Hikaru's friend. D'daear glanced at Hikaru, worried for him as much as he was worried for himself and basically the entire team. Eyes remained wide open in ambivalence while he struggled to say anything. "Wh-"
"I commend you all on your frivolous efforts this far. You have served my master well. But I'm afraid your usefulness has expired."
"Wh-what's he... ? Why...? Served your master...? What does...he mean...?" words echoed off his weak voice.
D'daear knew Aux was mainly paying attention to Hikaru and Kaida, but every once in a while, he could feel a cold stare. Dialogue was exchanged among friends, and some minor questions were answered; well except what did Aux mean when he said, " You have served my master well..."
That question needed a reply, a chase but it was increasingly impossible as people started to blitzkrieg Aux in a final stand to protect Hikaru and Kaida. D'daear wanted to intervene, to scream at the top of his lungs for them to not fight. Anyone could tell this was a fight they were not going to win. Yet despite the urge to shout or say anything, D'daear was unable to. Feet were firmly planted on the marble floor beneath him. Words found themselves lodged in his throat, and adrenaline surged throughout his entire body while he felt heart palpitations. Everything was being tuned out. Words, screams, battle cries. It was all becoming inaudible to him. Eyes struggled to stay focused as they dilated midst moisture inevitably rising from the corners of eye sockets. First Raisor, Glen, Beuce, Luna and even Karina! Aux tossed them aside after they tried their best; although one of them was a bit questionable with their effort. It was looking to be hopeless. Unfair really.
Muscle and sinew betrayed D'daear as he stood there trapped in his own body. He wanted to try to help, but at the same time he couldn't. Disbelief struck him like a phantom bullet, and this was a nightmare unfolding. "Not again... Not again.... Not again... This... this isn't the way it's supposed to end..."
There the hero's stood, a dozen feet away from Maurice's house. Everyone stood by Krowley, with determination to come out on top in this fight, in this fight that would determine whether Belle and Beast had a happy ending or not. With the resolve everyone had, D'daear strongly believed they could defeat Aux, and bring about the daylight into this darkened fairytale. The storm clouds still persisted above the land, with rain having moved on towards the direction where they had just departed from. All eye's of various colors were on the two well-armored individuals whom wore similar masks, Aux and Krowley. Their discussion had escalated, with drama unfolding between the two ex-friends; according to Aux anyway. With one foul display, the tall bulky individual had charred the keepsake that was Krowley's, showing no sign of sympathy. Tossed like a useless item, the symbol of their friendship lay there between them, charred and nearly broken. Hands curled into fists, forearm muscles flexing as he tightened the ball of indignant. D'daear's furrowed eyebrows gave more tension to those blue irises that gazed back at Aux, while mandible tensed in teeth gritting motion. Friends, how could something so important be thrown in the trash like it meant nothing? All those years of those two being together, sharing jokes, sharing laughter, sharing sadness, and happiness! What was so important to this Aux person that would compel him to throw all of that away? This didn't click with D'daear, he was having a difficult time registering what Aux was after. He averted the gaze, pupils dilating as he scanned the muddy floor, as if the answer to this conundrum would be visible.
Krowley took arms as the sound of his weapon emanated, which meant it was time to take action. Everyone around him summoned their Keyblade, ready to back up Krowley in this endeavor, except D'daear. Hands hesitated to welcome the sweet memories as they remained tight fists. The muddy ground beneath them reverberated with power of loud thunder, a possible omen of what was to come. The idea, of a broken friendship, of someone once so close that suddenly would severe the bonds between them did not register at all. His simple mind could not get a hold of itself, confused. Couldn't they work things out? Couldn't peace be achieved WITHOUT violence? "...but...you're supposed to be friends... Why are you fighting?!" he exclaimed, suddenly catching sight of Aux leap into action. "What happened to all of my determination...? Why can't I take up arms like everyone else?!"" the ethereal words rang, his right knee buckling suddenly. He stood there motionless, paralyzed by this conundrum. Looking down at the muddy floor once more, where a small puddle of water gave off his reflection. Eyebrows were no longer furrowed in a scowl, but reversed with drooping lips. Fists weakened themselves, letting loose fingers as the hands went limp. One by one Aux took out D'daear's teammates, displaying his dominance over them all, his ferocity. He was fast, and by the looks of it, extremely strong as he effortlessly made waste of them. D'daear was no different, feeling a clean punch to the solar plexus which knocked the wind out of him. However, it didn't end there. The man's fists were infused with something. It felt so bizarre, so dirty to the good-hearted soul. It kind of reminded him of the Dark Thorn they fought. Eye's widened with the surprise hit, everything feeling so slow in this moment. "Is this...the power of darkness...?" he thought, unable to control his stunned body as Aux soon swung that massive arm with D'daear still attached to the fist. He flung the new keyblade wielder like it was nothing, sending D'daear a few feet away before moving on to his next victim.
Clean back skidded against the muddy earth, soon coming to a halt. A coughing reflex took form. He cringed in pain for a few seconds, just the same amount of time it took for the battle to be over. In mere seconds, Krowley's so called friend had made quick work of them all. D'daear lay there, not wanting to look around. He was disappointed at himself. He as a party member, failed everyone, even if they had all failed as a team. Curled into a ball while he cringed in pain for a while, he let blue irises hide themselves behind the safety of eyelids.
"Sah...sorry..." spoke a weak voice, sounding breathless and need of water. D'daear's voice shot open, realizing it was Base, a friend and mentor.
"I let Base down too..." he thought, speechless by the revelation. If there was anyone among the eight here that he found to be a friend, it was Base; and he just let him down.
The pain seemed to have gone away, although the desire to vomit still persisted. He just wanted to lay there, on his side looking away from everyone. Slowly, he uncurled the body while profile aimed at the sky, arms resting limp beside him. Blue irises looked to the mud that pillowed his purple head. This whole visit had started simple and clean, filling D'daear with awe and wonder of the beauty that laid out there for him to see. Now, however...this fairytale had turned for the worst, tainted by the broken illusion that should have been happiness, and filled with light. The solid grasp he once had on this idea, was slowly becoming mush. He suddenly felt homesick, with a deep desire to return to that paradise blooming in heart, to run away away from all of this. Tears began to form at the cusp of his eyelids, trying their best to escape from D'daear's opposing will. The limp right hand that rested on mud beside him suddenly grasped at the watery dirt, becoming stiff with the confusion that stirred in his heart. He tensed his mandible, furrowing his brows with the frustration that was now arising from all of this confusion, from this broken reality that he thought he had had a firm grasp on. His heart was in pain, defeated. With Base near him, apologizing...it only hurt even more.
"Don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong..." he barely uttered back, voice strained from the tears he was trying to hold back. At least HE tried to fight, unlike himself.
"Is that the best you can do?" Aux mocked. "Even your strongest have lost hope. One after the other you try and fail. How long will you keep at this? Months? Years?"
The masked villain just kept on talking, and eventually went on to remove Luna from their group.
Mandible tensed and eyes just reached their breaking point. Head bowed with bangs covering his ambivalence. Hair was long enough to cast a shadow over his face. Hands were tight in a ball of physical ambivalence. It seemed that’s all he’s been feeling these days. Confused and indecisive. There he was once again. Same situation as before.
“I see your palm tree friend over there is doing nothing just like the last time I brought you guys to your knees. “he spoke out to Hikaru, helmet staring in D’daear’s direction.
D’daear’s shoulders shuddered and fists shook, knuckles turning a bright red. That was just a bad memory. They weren’t able to save belle, and what’s worse they promised Beast they would rescue her. Instead all they’ve managed to do at this point is lose, lose, lose… It was getting annoying, and Aux’s taunts weren’t help at all. They were actually getting him vexed.
“Cheer up.” Aux whispered to D’daear.
All anger just drained away in an instant, and was replaced with surprise. Head jerked up to see Aux in a stance slightly below D’daear’s eye level. This was the moment that fear and anxiety barged into his heart again. Pain instantly shot to and through the boy’s solar plexus, every ounce of air that his lungs contained suddenly being blown away by a mass the size of someone’s head. The desire to puke was intense, but what was worse was the fact that he could feel himself being lifted off his feet. A split second after the pain shot through his solar plexus a loud boom broke the sound barrier followed by a flying D’daear rocketing a few yards back.
Back skidded against the marble floor violently as his body turned and rolled from intense friction in an inevitable attempt to expend all energy Aux had shot through him.
“Huh... Your trajectory was supposed to be towards the big darkness in the sky….” He said, slowly walking towards D’daear who was barely mustering the strength to rise from the floor. Oh was D’daear livid, and if he just had the raw power to express that…
“I see this one has Grown a little resilient since the beast’s castle, Hikaru. This should make things a little more-”
D’daear dashed towards Aux and swung with anger burning in his eyes. The punch did little to impress the burly foe as it made contact. He ended up hurting himself more so than he did Aux.
“…interesting…” disappointment in Aux’s tone.
Tossed back on the floor, D’daear was getting up with knee support when Aux kicked his side and sent him reeling back. Aux grabbed him by his collar and lifted him off the ground with one arm. It was a bit excessive, but it was his way of showing dominance. The purple haired youth struggled to break free, gritting his teeth.
“If you say so.” Aux said, letting go of D’daear and thrusting a kick forward just as D’daear was about to touch the ground. The keyblade wielder couldn’t rise this time as Aux made sure to reach him just in time to press the sole of his boots on top of D’daear’s head.
The boy screamed as Aux applied pressure.
“Do I have any takers? Who can come save this cry-baby before he’s used as some dish rag.” He spoke out to the group before looking back down at D’daear.
“You lot never stood a chance from the very beginning. This whole journey was wasted effort. If you thought you had hope before, by the end of all this you’ll be left with nothing.”
"Chill isn't something we seem to get often, and I can't see why having two of them would be a problem. He's basically just got a twin now" he said.
Ironically the second Horace that shouldn't be had removed it's facade, and revealed itself to be an old witch lady calling herself Mizrabel. Vindicated in the most unusual way, he turned his head to Glen and just gave him a blank stare. "You were saying?" he inquired in comradery.
Hikaru got sent back by a ball of dark energy, which sent D'daear on high alert. Quickly getting into battle stance he locked onto the old witch and hand motioned for his keyblade while Hikaru got up and ready for combat himself. Normally he didn't enjoy smacking old ladies around, but if they were dangerous....
"Wait,...what's going on?"
D;daear divide his attention to Hikaru momentarily to see what the fuss was all about. There was no keyblade in the warrior's hands. Shocked he, he went ahead and gripped his keyblade in angst when he suddenly felt his fingers curl into a fist. Eyes widened as attention immediately went to hands. Empty. What he thought he had been holding onto this whole time was nothing more than a phantom of routine feeling left in his hands prior. He tried again to summon his keyblade, but nothing. Why wasn't it working? It was all just a matter of flick of the wrist, right?
"Come on!! What the- What's going on....?" he uttered in concern.
The witch cackled and all was revealed. Eyes widened. He almost felt like crying. All that hard work, that tempering through trials and this is what happens. He sucked at magic, and just when he was able to do just a little bit with his physical abilities too. If life had thrown a punch, D'daear would have been defeated because that's exactly how he felt right now. How was he supposed to help out now? Without the keyblade he was literally nothing. And what about the reason he was here for? It would be impossible to do anything now without the keyblade...
One by one the witch began to claim what didn't belong to her. Donald, Goofy, Daisy, Max, Pete, Pluto, Oswald, and Minnie. Mizrabel had somehow turned them all into gems; and why is sounding like a good question right now. However for some reason she didn't turn Mickey into a Gem. Once again why? As if to make matters worse, the witch spirited away into a dark portal and just as the portal was closing, Mickey jumped in after her. It all happened so fast that none of them could follow in time.
"Mickey-!" he shouted along, but that proved pointless.
Panchito; whom D'daear is not well-acquainted with, began empathizing with the groups loss, but short-lived as Heartless began to appear. Everything was just unraveling so fast like some plot from a book. It was becoming disconcerting as they all had to start making their way to check out the cornerstone of light; the ball of light that protected disneytown from things like heartless. They had to check on it, because they sure as heck couldn't defend the town in their current state. Without a keyblade just what exactly are they supposed to do? The feeling of powerlessness or being defenseless was just too much for D'daear. He wanted to cope, but the fast unraveling situation was not giving him or anyone for that matter space or time for that.
Hands curled into a tight fist as that frustration and anxiety came back to settle. If only he could scream without looking like some scared nut job.
Name: Lionel RIPP
Personality: (Forgive my lack of words) Relaxed, talkative, but somewhat tight-lipped when he doesn't feel/find the need to speak. A little hyper-active on the inside with a tint of ape-**** crazy. He's well-rounded as a typical good guy, but he'll do what he needs to do to survive... Only becomes explosive in personality when pushed over the edge. (Gotta do what you gotta do right?) Has keen insight, and can learn things quickly. (Kind of have to now unless you're just that lucky)
Brief Bio: In his younger days he was just a typical Caucasian man trying to make a living with what little fortune he has. Often times he'd find himself at bars with co-workers after a job, and often times he'd find himself with bruised face outside of said bar. E.R. was a place of peace for him every once in a while. As he got older, he became wiser and stopped acting like his usual jackass self. Manned up and eventually found himself a nice woman to spend his life with. He softened up because of her and found himself a job to make their ends meet. Working with contractors has made his hands rough, given him far from normal strength/endurance, from the hardship of lifting planks, boards, handling tools, splinters, on sight accidents. Was on a work trip and He was actually on his way to the work site when **** all of a sudden hit the fan. Lost his bag o'l tools too save for his pipe wrench. When you're surrounded by those cannibals, you just grab what you can to defend yourself and go. Has no idea of his relatives or loved one's whereabouts or whether they're even alive now. Has been making his way back home ever since, hoping Bae is alive.
Occupation?: Worked with a contractor in home renovation, or construction. When he first started off he knew very little, but time tempers skill. Carpentry, electrical, A/C installation, construction. Mind you he knows how to do the work and can do it well enough, but he isn't specialized in any.
1) Brawler. Not a combat specialist, but has been in enough brawls to know how to defend himself against tough folks. Ever see those 80's-90's action flicks? Most don't know martial arts, but still kick ass. Lulz
2) Basic Nursing Skills. Use needle and thread for stitches, how to use an I.V, proper sanitizing procedures, c.p.r., can use small surgical tools, understands some labeling for specific medications(and amount of mili to grams required). Understands orthopaedic procedures; primarily popping joints back in place or applying self made casts to support broken bones, sprained joints or muscles.
3) Handyman. Handy with tools, like duct tape, nuts and bolts, screws, wrench, etc. Knows his way around 14 gauge wires, and basically anything requiring fixing like with construction (Carpentry) or repairing non-functional pieces of hardware.
4) Basic Gun Knowledge. Knows how to handle a gun. Clean a gun, and fix a gun. Applies to handguns, rifles, and revolvers only.
Weapons of Choice: Heavy Duty Pipe Wrench.
Other Tidbits: Will smoke if you give him one. Carries a photo of bae with him always.
Well that was easier said than done. Turns out all they needed was a keyblade to leave this wasteland. Nice. Now who in the world is Maleficent? D'daear was clearly not the only one who heard that name. Just when you think questions were subsiding, more questions arrived. A dark fairy? So there were more bad guys other than Xehanort or whatever his name was. Too focused on the mystery of Marifucentu that he completely zoned out from the conversation Mickey was having with Mortimer. Then the lights came on, bright as ever. Caught unprotected, the light shone bright that it obscured his vision. His natural reaction was to wince from the overwhelming photons that poured into his eyes within that one second. There was so much noise now. Like a festival and announcement were going on at once. Opening his eyelids, gap slowly formed between eye lids until pupils could adjust themselves properly to the scenery.
Minnie spoke in surprise, and that's when D'daear noticed the two horaces as well as the sudden change in scenery.
"Can we just for once have a normal, chill transition?" he inquired rhetorically to the group.
If they had to stay in this wasteland any longer he'd honestly lose it. Bloticles, cranky Oswald (although that should change now that things are cleared up right?), Shadow Blot, Mortimer and dragon were all just too much. Karina's frustration towards the mouse was much understood given he was the one who brought the group of heroes to this place to begin with. Getting off the cannon, he re-grouped with the keyblade heroes to listen in and maybe give his input. Stratos's logic made sense to some degree, and Glen's idea was actually not too bad. In fact, it was the most sensible so far. Mortimer brought them here, surely he knew a means to get them out too.
At least the mouse better....
Folding his arms, he kept quiet whilst observing his comrades. The place was becoming incredibly dull fast, and he'd really like to leave this place now.