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Able felt quite at home suddenly. The room was cozy, and full of friendly older people, who reminded him immediately of half forgotten aunts and uncles at a family gathering or something of the sort. Thinking of his fellow students as cousins made them less intimidating, too. They didn't know each other, but they were all connected by something. Not blood relation, maybe, but something very real all the same.

"Thank you, Doctor," Able said, quietly, giving him a warm smile as he passed by on his way to the stairs. A full exploration would wait until he had eaten, but he wouldn't feel properly comfortable until he had dropped his stuff off in a safe(he hoped) place.

He was halfway up the stairs when he turned back, noticing he was the only one going up already.

"I guess no one else cares if the best rooms are taken?"
@Raptra forgot to tag you in my post.
Able looked away as his face flushed with some embarrassment at being read so baldly. Yes, he did want to talk about his power; he hadn't been around anyone who found it interesting since the Mistening. He just thought it only polite to ask someone about theirs first, rather than just ramble on.

"I don't think there's a word for mine. I can kind of, like, put my weight somewhere else, temporarily. Like, I'll touch something, and it will get heavier, but I'll get lighter."

They came up to the building and stopped to comment on their apparent new home.

"Yeah, maybe kinda ritzy. I'm Able, by the way."
@Raptra

When the last passenger had gotten down the stairs, Able stood up from his seat at the very back of the bus. He had with him a shapeless duffle bag, which he balanced easily on a shoulder as he exited the door himself. The cold here didnt seem to bother him in nothing heavier than a cable knit sweater and old jeans.

He started walking immediately, studiously not looking at the two cute girls who were conversing nearby. Despite getting off last, Able's long strides quickly brought him level with another quieter boy.

"What can you do, if that's not rude to ask?"
Name: Able Eriksen
Age: 16
Appearance: Freakishly tall for his age, Able is already over six feet. He carries a little baby fat, the remnant of being a chunky child, before his growth spirt. Even with that, he's unusually dense; nobody would guess he weighed nearly three hundred pounds.
Able is shaggy, nearly platinum blond and round faced, with startlingly blue eyes.

Motives: Able just wants to be good at something that someone else in his family hasn't already done.

Personality: Not shy, necessarily, but self conscious and particularly sensitive about his size. He's friendly, and protective of his friends. He doesn't like to use his size to intimidate, but he can easily come off a little scary by accident when he starts to take something seriously.
Though emotionally sensitive, he's physically quite tough, and has a high pain tolerance.

Backstory: The youngest of four brothers, and the only one still living at home in Union City when the mistening happened. His brothers are Arthur the valedictorian(now an engineer), Steven the ROTC captain(now doing something secret for the US Navy), and David the theater kid(now in a show on Broadway).
Able was most of the way through high school and his main point of distinction is his perfect attendance and behavior. When he recieved an invitation to the Empyreus Academy, all he could see was something nobody had done before, and he was eager to be a part of the first class.

Powers/abilities: Mass transfer! He can shift his own body's mass into any object that he gets all four fingers on. The volume of both himself and the target remain unchanged, it just becomes heavier, while he seems to weigh nothing at all. He can reverse the effect by putting all four fingers on himself, usually simply by clenching his fist.

Skills: He knows how to fish, prepare a catch for dinner and generally handle a knife in the kitchen. He is equally adept at eating whatever he may cook.
Can people still apply here?
"All the warriors of all the worlds," Stefan corrected the boy to his side, wondering that he was a warrior at that age. He too gave a bow of his head, mimicking the young man.

"May I ask, as we all come from other cultures and worlds, is there any etiquette we should observe on meeting your emperor? The last thing on my mind is to offend my host."
@Omega Man

I'm going to have to formally bow out before this starts. I'm just not into it, I'm afraid.

Sorry to out my hat forward and then pull it back
The stairs leading up to the front doors of the Heliod Basilica were made of a multitude of colored stones, set into an ancient mosaic. In the long ago past, holy men and local children would comb beaches and riverbeds for rocks that were just the right colors. It was something like a game to the children, as that was the easiest(and kindest) way to get a child to do anything. At the end of a day, as they carried their baskets and buckets back to the hill where the old man was laying the stones, they would compare their favorites from the day’s haul. The darkest blacks and lightest whites were some of the best in this strange, rulelless game, but pinks and reds were even better. The most sought after(and fought over) however, were blue.

The old man, his name sadly lost to history, as many great artisans are, spent the last twenty years of his life working on this project. Over the centuries it has been such a popular feature that many step deliberately on the sides of the steps, so as to not wear away the center of the piece of art each step makes. Some even walk beside the stairs, and many have fallen on the uneven ground trying to save the mosaic. There is one step that nobody sets foot on. The blackest, and the whitest of all the stones that were gathered are here, showing a small scene of white on one side, black on the other, they intermingle in some places and appear to be fighting. In the center, a surprisingly intricate heart is emblazoned in pinks and reds. In the center of the heart is a keyhole. The border is blue, and on eithe side of the step is large key, facing opposite directions. On the top of the image, two keys facing each other, and on the bottom two keys facing away.

On a bright, clear day, in summer on this world, light plays brilliantly on it, shining on and through the translucent stones in the heart. A foot, clad in twisted black metal, comes down on the heart on its way up the hill. The stones making up the keyhole crack. One of them is missing as the foot comes away, perhaps stuck to the sole. Another, and another crash onto this untouched masterpiece with reckless haste, breaking the edges and scattering the stones that come loose from the mortar.

Gangly shadow figures in black iron armor charge up the stairs, chasing after women and children, flanked by the brave men in their lives, who flee up toward Heliod. In their haste and fear, they still manage to smile at the man who makes his way down the hill, walking beside the stairs. Not out of respect for the art, but to keep out of the way. Now was not the time to put purpose and safety below beauty. He wore a suit of white and blue, high tech looking like some kind of space suit, though without a helmet. Over top of this he had a hooded half cape, and wore a sash of blue silk, adorned with bronze medallions.

When the fleeing folk were past, he stepped back onto the stairs, and stood to wait. There was a stone wall to his left, that supported another layer of the staircase, and he spared the briefest glance for the members of the crowd who were directly above him. He called his Keyblade, of silver and(curiously, as it did not originate in this world) the exact same shade of blue that featured heavily in the mosaic beneath his feet. He held his sword level with his cheek, parallel to the ground, his right elbow back and his left hand forward, in an extravagant sword fighting stance.

As the creatures neared, they looked at him with hunger and fear mingled together. The former was stronger, and so they kept going. Suddenly it was as if the sun was directly behind him, a corona blazing behind his head and around his body. The yellow eyes in their dark faces blinked closed mid charge, and those in the front never even saw the slash coming. It was followed by another, and another. Each was accompanied by a step forward, and the stream of Heartless was halted here, and began to pile up. Some fell down the hill, knocking others down with them as they clawed and scrabbled for purchase. The first wave was repelled in minutes, though he could see them regrouping at the bottom of the hill.

As the light that surrounded him faded, he bent down, having reached the step with the heart motif. He put a hand on it, and a bright glow flowed briefly from between his fingers. When he brought his hand away, the stones were whole again, and save for a few stones that had gone missing, the picture was once more visible.

“Pretty fighting, Kupo.”

He looked up at the child’s stuffed bear that spoke to him from the top of the stone wall on his left.

“Thank you,” he replied, “If you’re here to sell wares, you came at a bad time.” He pulled the hood down away from his face politely.

“No wares, Kupo. I’m here for you,” he held out a sealed letter for the Wielder, which was taken and read.

“I don’t know Constantinople.”

“Ah, Kupo, in your region of the multiverse, they call it Istanbul.”

“I see. Why’d they change it?”

“Who can say, Kupo? Will you come?”

The man looked up the hill. There were other capable fighters at the Basilica, and it seemed the last of the citizens were retreated to safety.

“Yes,” he said. “I will be glad of work with a purpose. Lead on, though you have me at a disadvantage here.”

The moogle laughed, “I’m Moglanta, Kupo.”


Character Sheet
Name: Stefan

Bio: In Stefan’s world, he really wasn’t all that special. He was a member of the Shining Host, an order of knights and soldiers who are dedicated to the protection and peace of the world at large. What power he has is seen as the world’s power, not his own, and while he has a certain level of respect as a soldier, members of the Host are viewed as an extension of the Heart of the World.
Isik Dunya is a world with a strong Heart, and has always kept the darkness at bay. Just like Stefan and his own abilities, however, it was most vulnerable to attack from within. The Ebon Cabal, a cult wielding the power of darkness, infiltrated the world’s leadership. By the time anyone realized it was happening, it was too late to keep Isik Dunya from falling into chaos. The Ebon Cabal let paranoia do much of their work for them, dividing people so that they could destroy or convert the smallest and weakest groups one by one.

In the end, the world was swallowed by the darkness. Not all was lost, however. Many members of the Shining Host survived, and served as beacons for other inhabitants of the world whose hearts were strong enough to withstand the encroaching darkness. They were scattered among the worlds, most of them falling back on the selfish paranoia that characterized Isik Dunya in its latter days. Sects of the Host tend to be well protected, but keep to themselves and don’t allow anybody, no matter how desperate or destitute, to join them.

Stefan himself was set adrift, but differed from his fellows, as a fascinating weapon attached itself to him, attracted to his strength of heart in much the same way as the other survivors were attracted to members of the Shining Host. Some of these survivors followed him as well, but he left them in the care of another sect that they found, and set off on his own to discover the nature of the force that destroyed his home.

Age: 27
Skills: A sword fighter of astonishing skill and tenacity. Stefan has a seemingly limitless well of stamina, which is only amplified by his light-harnessing suit.
Stefan wields the power of Light quite naturally. Using its powers of protection and healing are second nature. He has strong protection magic on himself at basically all times, and he can expand it outward to protect others as well when needed. This is the time when he is most vulnerable, as anything within his protection when he does this could strike him as if he were any other human.

Personality: Calm and patient. Stefan prefers to take his time, and has been known to beat enemies(both physically and socially) simply by outlasting them. He doesn't have much in the way of a temper, and his animosity will manifest in small ways.
Stefan has never truly hated anyone in his life.

World Sheet
Name: Isik Dunya
Summary of History: The history diverges from our own during the Mongol Empire. After a victorious conquest of China, the Khans, beginning with Ghengis, began to systematically destroy all knowledge of gunpowder.
This world evolved to be largely quite peaceful. Even when there is conflict, death and destruction are kept in check by a sense of honor, and surprisingly advanced medicine.

Important Nations: Istanbul, Saxony, Mongolia, Powhatan Confederacy, Azteca and Olmeca.
Overall Technology Level: Similar to modern day in many ways. There are no guns, or internal combustion engines. Their technological niche is filled with Alchemy and Stellistry(the harnessing of power from the sun and stars). This world has made the moon landing, and is on the brink of exploring Mars.
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