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STATUS: Going in a trip over the weekend. Will be back on Sunday, probably no RP posts until then 9 yrs ago
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9 yrs ago
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Going in a trip over the weekend. Will be back on Sunday, probably no RP posts until then
9 yrs ago
>That awkward moment when you learn the religious revival movement you were headin was actually a vehicle for a Lovecraftian Abomination masquerading as a God to jack your body and take over the world
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9 yrs ago
>That moment when you realize that you can only do fandom RPs because you're bad at original characters. This is what I get for never playing DnD
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Most Recent Posts
I didn't expect Thomas to get anything. he'll show up soonish. Probably after 'War' leaves.
Well, technically you wouldn't be instantly dead. It would be an eternity of your entire body ripping apart molecule by molecule due tro the intense gravitational force and time dilation. It only seems like it's instant to everyone else :p
Okay, as I said from looking at the Black Hole spell in Final Fantasy, it either deals a massive amount of damage (up to 75% of your HP), removes all positive status effects, or it instantly removes an enemy from the battle. I leave it to Bio to decide which of those would be used here.
But it's a black hole. Nothing can escape. Not even light or snark.
Heh, waiting for the right moment to come in as the big hero and black hole our way to victory.
At last Thomas made it out of the lodging he had been ensconced in, and moved through the town with casual slowness towards his destination. The streets were fairly empty, most of the inhabitants most likely busy with the Struggle tournament or just not out this time of day. He wasn't knowledgeable to say either way. Idly, he wondered how it was going, who was winning the contest. His money was on Joshua as a bare knuckled brawler, though it was hard to judge without knowing who all had entered. Belle had a shot as well, but if he had the inclination to place a bet, it would be on the person who's presence he enjoyed the least, though Reno may have been his main rival in the group.
On he moved, entering the woods that separated the mansion from the rest of Twilight Town. Now he was a tad more alert, though still below what he normally would have been. His mind strayed as he walked, wondering if it would be so bad if Heartless sprung up here and struck him down, He thought about it, then shook his head. That didn't fit his type of end. At least, that's what he thought. He'd always wanted to go out big, taking down an army of enemies, or maybe an explosion. Something memorable or at the very least cool. He couldn't say if that was still true, but it seemed a lot better than getting mauled in a forest somewhere and having his body lost to time.
Soon he arrived at his destination, the mansion. It wasn't in the best shape, Gates rusted and hung open, while weeds and plants overran the courtyard inside, winding amongst columns and arches. But he could still pass through, and that was what mattered. He spent a bit looking at the crumbling statues, forms still visible though tarnished like the rest of the place. Then to the entrance to the mansion itself, the oak doors looking remarkably good all things considering. And they weren't locked either, so he swung them open and stepped inside.
The first thing to hit him was the dust. Not surprising since this place was abandoned, but the sheer amount of it was stifling, tossed into the air by his presence. He coughed and waved his hand in front of his face, hoping to clear the air immediately in front of him of the fine particles. Then he could turn to exploring. The furniture in here was shattered, but he walked cautiously, almost reverently, alert for possibly weak floorboards that could send him plunging into the basement, but also trying to not disturb anything, like he felt not worthy to be here even though no one else was around. The main entrance, past the dangling chandelier, to the dining room beyond, this much a shattered mess as the first. As he went, images played in his mind of activities, comings and goings, fights that had taken place between keyblade wielders, Heartless, and Nobodies.
Exiting back to the foyer, he ascended the grand staircase, aware of those steps rotting from age, and made it to the second floor. He glanced about in the different directions he could go, before heading left. It was straight, then a turn and a door. Stepping through, he had to shield his eyes, blinking rapidly to adjust to the almost blinding whiteness of the room. This was...Namine's room, wasn't it? He stepped into the middle of it, brushing a table with his finger and rubbing away the collected dust. If it weren't for that, you would barely be able to tell that she was gone. It was like it was in a state of limbo, waiting for it's occupant to return to it. Even she, a Nobody had a place to return to, that awaited her, unlike him. His head dropped in his darkened thoughts, a stark contrast to the white around him. His gaze fell to the drawings on paper that rested on the table, but he quickly averted his gaze. Those were not meant for him, for his time, most definitely not for someone as broken as he was. He backed up and exited, fleeing the ghost of a white haired Nobody.
That left the other direction, the Library at the opposite end of the hall. Thomas knew enough to not take it at sight value, though he did peruse the titles, but finding nothing of interest. All that was left was to activate the hidden switch, which he did, and watch the floor fall away to reveal the stairs to the secret basement. The metallic surroundings made a solid contrast to the Victorian house they were hidden behind, and lights flickered on as Thomas descended the stairs and entered the sanctum.
Though the doors was the Computer Room, an array for monitors situated in front of a chair and keyboard, which were themselves in front of a strange machine. The screens were empty, the machinery that maintained the simalcrum Twilight Town long since deactivated, and he pressed idly at keys with no effect. he wondered if he could step inside, visit the fake reality that had been built up for one man, but decided against doing it even if it were possible. Onwards he moved, through the place where Roxas and Axel had had their epic battle and where the passage to the World That Never Was had formed (Though it was long since closed again). It was after that was also interesting.
Another hallway, this one lined on both sides with pods, all of them empty. Thomas knew what they were, the role they had played, yet he continued past them to another white room, where a larger pod sat in the middle. He stepped up to it, placing a hand against the side as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping to catch some glimpse of the presence of the one who had been contained within it. Sora had been in this pod, to recover after turning into a Heartless, to recover his memories and fix himself. If only it were so easy for Thomas to do the same. He wondered if the Keyblade warrior had dreamed, or if he had had a peaceful sleep without nightmares or fears. But he couldn't test that, and he knew no amount of time in there would fix him like it had Sora.
With a pain in his heart, he sighed, turned around, and left, heading back to Twilight Town proper. Time to face reality.
On he moved, entering the woods that separated the mansion from the rest of Twilight Town. Now he was a tad more alert, though still below what he normally would have been. His mind strayed as he walked, wondering if it would be so bad if Heartless sprung up here and struck him down, He thought about it, then shook his head. That didn't fit his type of end. At least, that's what he thought. He'd always wanted to go out big, taking down an army of enemies, or maybe an explosion. Something memorable or at the very least cool. He couldn't say if that was still true, but it seemed a lot better than getting mauled in a forest somewhere and having his body lost to time.
Soon he arrived at his destination, the mansion. It wasn't in the best shape, Gates rusted and hung open, while weeds and plants overran the courtyard inside, winding amongst columns and arches. But he could still pass through, and that was what mattered. He spent a bit looking at the crumbling statues, forms still visible though tarnished like the rest of the place. Then to the entrance to the mansion itself, the oak doors looking remarkably good all things considering. And they weren't locked either, so he swung them open and stepped inside.
The first thing to hit him was the dust. Not surprising since this place was abandoned, but the sheer amount of it was stifling, tossed into the air by his presence. He coughed and waved his hand in front of his face, hoping to clear the air immediately in front of him of the fine particles. Then he could turn to exploring. The furniture in here was shattered, but he walked cautiously, almost reverently, alert for possibly weak floorboards that could send him plunging into the basement, but also trying to not disturb anything, like he felt not worthy to be here even though no one else was around. The main entrance, past the dangling chandelier, to the dining room beyond, this much a shattered mess as the first. As he went, images played in his mind of activities, comings and goings, fights that had taken place between keyblade wielders, Heartless, and Nobodies.
Exiting back to the foyer, he ascended the grand staircase, aware of those steps rotting from age, and made it to the second floor. He glanced about in the different directions he could go, before heading left. It was straight, then a turn and a door. Stepping through, he had to shield his eyes, blinking rapidly to adjust to the almost blinding whiteness of the room. This was...Namine's room, wasn't it? He stepped into the middle of it, brushing a table with his finger and rubbing away the collected dust. If it weren't for that, you would barely be able to tell that she was gone. It was like it was in a state of limbo, waiting for it's occupant to return to it. Even she, a Nobody had a place to return to, that awaited her, unlike him. His head dropped in his darkened thoughts, a stark contrast to the white around him. His gaze fell to the drawings on paper that rested on the table, but he quickly averted his gaze. Those were not meant for him, for his time, most definitely not for someone as broken as he was. He backed up and exited, fleeing the ghost of a white haired Nobody.
That left the other direction, the Library at the opposite end of the hall. Thomas knew enough to not take it at sight value, though he did peruse the titles, but finding nothing of interest. All that was left was to activate the hidden switch, which he did, and watch the floor fall away to reveal the stairs to the secret basement. The metallic surroundings made a solid contrast to the Victorian house they were hidden behind, and lights flickered on as Thomas descended the stairs and entered the sanctum.
Though the doors was the Computer Room, an array for monitors situated in front of a chair and keyboard, which were themselves in front of a strange machine. The screens were empty, the machinery that maintained the simalcrum Twilight Town long since deactivated, and he pressed idly at keys with no effect. he wondered if he could step inside, visit the fake reality that had been built up for one man, but decided against doing it even if it were possible. Onwards he moved, through the place where Roxas and Axel had had their epic battle and where the passage to the World That Never Was had formed (Though it was long since closed again). It was after that was also interesting.
Another hallway, this one lined on both sides with pods, all of them empty. Thomas knew what they were, the role they had played, yet he continued past them to another white room, where a larger pod sat in the middle. He stepped up to it, placing a hand against the side as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping to catch some glimpse of the presence of the one who had been contained within it. Sora had been in this pod, to recover after turning into a Heartless, to recover his memories and fix himself. If only it were so easy for Thomas to do the same. He wondered if the Keyblade warrior had dreamed, or if he had had a peaceful sleep without nightmares or fears. But he couldn't test that, and he knew no amount of time in there would fix him like it had Sora.
With a pain in his heart, he sighed, turned around, and left, heading back to Twilight Town proper. Time to face reality.
Hm, haven't really decided what to do with Thomas's sightseeing trip, which is why I haven't posted anything yet. I will soon, I rpomise
Ososai moved along through the crowds, nearing one of the many taverns that dotted the city, business expanded outside to accommodate the numerous amount of travelers who moved through the city with the great festival. Around he could see a variety of creatures, humans, dwarves, moogles, even an elf or two, like the one sitting outside with a full glass of some drink, looking very disinterested in the going on of the world around her. While some may have mistaken her for a human, Ososai was keen enough of eye to note the physical differences that shows she was an elf.
His gaze was then drawn to the ongoing disagreement. regular humans bickering over..something, with a moogle involved as well. Wings folded, he leaned back against a wall to watch and observe, to see what happened and perhaps intervene if necessary.
His gaze was then drawn to the ongoing disagreement. regular humans bickering over..something, with a moogle involved as well. Wings folded, he leaned back against a wall to watch and observe, to see what happened and perhaps intervene if necessary.
More time passed, the sun continuing it's slow ascent into the sky and casting it's rays upon him, that and the cheering from the Tournament that reached him even here causing him to turn over and pull his pillow over his head, groaning as if in pain. He could see it in his mind's eye, him competing, winning, the praise he'd get. But no, not for him now. the hero was who he had wanted to be, who he had pretended to be. No, he couldn't go there now, it would hurt too much.
Still, he couldn't stay in bed all day either, and he eventually roused himself to move, shifting blankets to the side as he rose, scratching at his head and stretching. Then if was off to a shower, waking himself up and working off any leftover grime. In particular, his Keyblade armor got a good scrubbing. "Dang it, what the hell is this stuff," he muttered to himself as he worked furiously on the black splotches. No matter how much he tried, they didn't even fade, ruling out anything naturally and just resulting in magic. Eventually he gave up and finished his shower. Once out and dressed, he returned to the problem, mind working as he used what he knew to think up some low level illusion magic that could hide this from everyone else, so they didn't question what it was and where it had come from.
Ready, he stepped out into the world, eyes wincing for a few brief seconds from the sunlight, him hoping the rings around his eyes from lack of sleep weren't too obvious. Since he didn't know what else to do, he moved for a tour of Twilight town, to those iconic locations from the adventures he had read about, though he pointedly left out the Sandlot where the tournament was taking place. Who knew, maybe he'd see something interesting. First stop, the mansion that had served as a bridge between the simulacrum Twilight town and the original.. So he started that way first. At least it would be something to take his mind off his current problems.
Still, he couldn't stay in bed all day either, and he eventually roused himself to move, shifting blankets to the side as he rose, scratching at his head and stretching. Then if was off to a shower, waking himself up and working off any leftover grime. In particular, his Keyblade armor got a good scrubbing. "Dang it, what the hell is this stuff," he muttered to himself as he worked furiously on the black splotches. No matter how much he tried, they didn't even fade, ruling out anything naturally and just resulting in magic. Eventually he gave up and finished his shower. Once out and dressed, he returned to the problem, mind working as he used what he knew to think up some low level illusion magic that could hide this from everyone else, so they didn't question what it was and where it had come from.
Ready, he stepped out into the world, eyes wincing for a few brief seconds from the sunlight, him hoping the rings around his eyes from lack of sleep weren't too obvious. Since he didn't know what else to do, he moved for a tour of Twilight town, to those iconic locations from the adventures he had read about, though he pointedly left out the Sandlot where the tournament was taking place. Who knew, maybe he'd see something interesting. First stop, the mansion that had served as a bridge between the simulacrum Twilight town and the original.. So he started that way first. At least it would be something to take his mind off his current problems.
The teeming throngs of people, eating, drinking, having fun, celebrating, meeting with old friends, the mass of different peoples and species, that was what he had come to see. Through them, Ososai moved as a silent observer, letting the emotions of the crowd wash over him like a wave on the shore, observing the people. that was why he'd come, to see this meeting of cultures and ideas. He'd had his share of food, and had some gil left to spend if he found something worth investing in, but that hadn't happened yet.
He wore a tunic under light leather armor, designed for flying and to accommodate the wings that sprouted from his shoulder blades, their color shifting from brown to black down towards the tips. The tuft that passed for hair was kept relatively tidy, the brown matching that of his wings.His skin was a light tan, yet spotted around the neck and back. He was light, yet sure of feet, passing effortlessly through the crowds that congested these streets as if he was passing from one air current to another. His bow was slung over his back, allowing his wings freedom of movement while making it easy to reach if he needed it.
He had no real goal, no purpose, no destination. He just weaved through the crowds, waiting for something to happen, a solitary bird of prey eying the ground for movement., even when not on the hunt.
He wore a tunic under light leather armor, designed for flying and to accommodate the wings that sprouted from his shoulder blades, their color shifting from brown to black down towards the tips. The tuft that passed for hair was kept relatively tidy, the brown matching that of his wings.His skin was a light tan, yet spotted around the neck and back. He was light, yet sure of feet, passing effortlessly through the crowds that congested these streets as if he was passing from one air current to another. His bow was slung over his back, allowing his wings freedom of movement while making it easy to reach if he needed it.
He had no real goal, no purpose, no destination. He just weaved through the crowds, waiting for something to happen, a solitary bird of prey eying the ground for movement., even when not on the hunt.
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