It was for a split moment that Sora thought he was hallucinating. Seeing something that wasn’t real. Or perhaps this was all just another dream. Yet in his heart, he had been here long enough to know that there was a very small chance that those who have disappeared from their own world could one day end up here.
“Ansem.” A Heartless that was a pawn in setting Xehanort’s plan into motion. Someone who took over his best friend’s body, and made him search high and low for another. Yet after all that time, in their final clash, there was a bit of sympathy he couldn’t help but feel for the Heartless. Ansem having express openly to what he had felt, why he wasn’t able to defy his fate. To move on and seek answers… final words he could never forget.
“Seems like it. At first, I was trying to understand what I was brought here for, and I may have a bit more of a clear answer to that. Thanks to you and a few others here. To be honest, I never imagined that we would meet up again. Not this soon.”
Addressed as he was; that simple calling of name to cement recognition had the Heartless raising his head. Upturned with a fitting curve along lips, a grand showing of pride for remaining etched into the mind despite the cease of existence. A memory to last when all was said and done, but there remained the reality of it never remaining as such.
“Hmph. The irony is almost laughable.” For a boy, once so utterly clueless, to wield answers when the dark king was left to wonder. But with existence came purpose and the solution to these strange circumstances would reveal themselves to him soon enough. The presence of a key-wielder was a fine place to start, especially one well known.
“The light will always be met with darkness, and it seems this world has its’ own means of showing that. It draws in subjects like you -- the pieces of light positioned on its metaphorical board, then there are the others. Myself and no doubt other denizens of shadow.” He gives pause for a brief chuckle, a partial shake of the head. “There always was another game to be played.”
considering that he was a relatively new arrival, it was with some hesitance that the bouncer nodded and allowed the ascian to enter the seedy little place dubbed ‘ THE CHILLIN’ VILLAIN. ‘ rather a little on the nose, as it may be, establishing knowledge and awareness of one’s surroundings is paramount to one’s success, as well as their peace of mind. and thus he did enter, garlean form swaying upon the scene of the dimly lit establishment were sinners collectively plotted their ascensions.
whilst so many had chosen to disguise their faces with masks, as if that did little to conceal their forms at all, emet-selch chose not to don any feeble attempt to hide in plain sight. no no, the garlean eye which did so mark him as much as the symbol woven and embroidered upon the back of his jacket told tale of what he was and from where he came. but as he quickly discovered, it mattered not that the empire’s emblem did cause his image to stick out as it would to any resident of the source, none seemed to care at all. but he was unbothered.
“ a drink! to celebrate my untimely arrival to this strange, uncharted land. “ a snap of his fingers caught the barman’s attention, seemingly so of the stranger seated beside him too. a stranger whose eyes burned as it caught his own. he shrugged, before flagging down the barman once more with a wave of his hand. jovial, as if he intended to ‘ yoo hoo~! ‘ as he did so.
“ oh, alright then! one for my new acquaintance here as well. i see no reason to doubt that any stranger seeking shelter within the walls of a place called – by the – the chillin’ villain, is a reliable enough drinking partner! “ and so the barman delivered two drinks, one repeat of whatever the stranger had chosen before and for emet-selch a smokey goblet, filled to the brim with an unusual, dark liquor. ( *ﾟSTARTER // @eminentdark [ FFXIV SPOILERS ]
By no means other than curiosities persistent pull did darkness’ king find himself within the walls of such an establishment. Ears assaulted by laughter and murmurs that quickly filled the space, but ultimately left be once coming to settle upon an unoccupied stool. An arm decorated the counter in front of him and, for the other, came a drink before long, voice no more than a smooth rumble as it was requested. His only company for the night; the bitterness a warm welcome in an otherwise lackluster estate.
Yet, peace for the wicked never came to last. A slow intake of breath came with the final tilt of the glass, coming to rest against the counter top with a gentle clink, and then attention was allowed to shift. Once more guided by curious impulse his head was let to turn, studious pools of amber falling on the source of snap and exclamation. The gestures of newly self-welcomed company had even earned a quirked brow, but the stare lasted only seconds and empty glass became his focus once more.
Until replaced, of course.
It was a hum that left him next; low and deliberate as the second helping of previously acquired drink was slid over. Brim of the glass was eventually occupied by the tips of a gloved hand, pulling the contents closer. Of course he offered a laugh; merely a breathy huff if not for the tone it was given. “How generous of you.”
“Allow me to offer a toast, then.” There’s a partial rise of his glass, bestowing a half-hearted jut forward with it before it’s brought against waiting lips. As it falls away there’s a quick wave of his hand, eyes that have fallen shut and a haughty breath. Dismissal, exaggerated input? Take your pick, perhaps it’s both! “To further welcome you to this deformed mess of a world.”
That’s what had been exclaimed, what was the desired outcome. With those words, with those ambitions in mind, powers of the many had come to rest within their rightful places. Results were near instantaneous, the sounds of clashing steel, of eruptions and heavy impact. Cries of the strong-willed, the furious and the opposing. All of it rung like banded instruments beneath the guidance of a desperate orchestrator.
Restoration came to even the darkest corners. There was no mistaking it, that unmistakable surge -- that ever present, growing sensation of a pure abyss. Running through the body like blood through veins, energizing a tired remnant back into a former glory. Changes of the world prior had been caught in a blackened flame, eaten and digested by a reclaiming darkness. Away with the horns and added appendage, dressed once more in former coat and displaying, proudly, an ever present emblem.
Dark Lord, was the name that hung over the looming threat. A title that spat in the face of darkness’ true king.
Into the maw of war would the heartless enter, a path created with the fall of each step. At the foot of every creature that dared step forward were the welcoming edges of darkness; spiraling thorns and wisps of dark fire beckoning them all closer. Wishing to ensnare and burn those foolish enough to come too close, for the kings’ path shall not be interrupted. He would reach a satisfying center before the barricades would grow thinner. Receding towards their master, allowing him only a small circle to stand within.
“You seek resistance to the darkness. Wishing to gain a light strong enough to cast away the shadows that plague you, that consume you. So, you place that hope within your captives.”
A ridiculous endeavor. However, there was a brilliance to it when so many yearned for the hope of tomorrow, even when there were those that wished to steal it all away. That hope would ignite, the connections created would see to its growth. It was a true spectacle to witness time and time again, but one he had come to know would prevail. Even now.
Assisting that light would never be a goal he would come to share, but ( just this once ) would he play a different role. A fate he could willingly defy without question.
Arms were slowly drawn closer to his body, tension built within each as the shrunken barricade once built began to grow. Thorns rose and spread, flames quickly came to engulf them; spreading along them rapidly. Then, in a swift motion his arms had spread open and, with them, so did the growing dark. A forceful burst, knocking away the violent shadows and granting man room to rise. Ascending from the ground up, gifting self a birds-eye view of the birth of his own darkened spawn.
“You serve under the darkness, yet offer me such defiance... you will come to know your place.”
The Dark Lord’s army shall meet the King of Darkness’ children.
They shall rise in all forms and sizes, they shall eagerly greet those that have chosen to oppose. Limitless, never ending -- they shall conquer and consume. For once, and only once, would the hearts not be their goal.
“This world-wide game shall come to an end. Now...
... SUBMIT!!”
tl;dr along with the Dark Lord’s clone-like monsters there are now a variety of Heartless among the battlefield. However, they’re going to be playing for Spirale’s side this time around instead of joining the current threat. If you want to include them or make mention of them, perhaps even mistaken them for enemies, you’re all more than welcome. / for those unfamiliar, or even those that are, have fun with THESE lovely babies running about.
“You speak as though there should be a display of caution. Boundaries do little to ignite fear, I welcome the unknown that lies beyond them. What shall be watched is that which arises from the intrusion, rather than my own means of approach -- it hardly matters, in the end.”
“Such is the nature of darkness, and those that reside within it... would you not agree?”
The pounding of her heart sounded loud in her ears, her body stiffening the moment the other spoke. Eyes wide, fearful, mind racing with thoughts on how she could get out of this. Would they be angry? Doubtful, considering they stayed calm and seated despite her trespassing.
The other kingdoms were at war with one another, and her entry was not welcomed. Sneaking in seemed the only way, and while she had thus far gone unnoticed, things no longer seemed like they’d be going the young beastkin’s way.
“Please pardon my intrusion…” Not the best way to start things off, but her intentions were pure in that she meant no harm. Before continuing she offered a curtsy, then proceed to stand straight and do what she could to attempt making eye contact.
“I came in search of a teacher; one who majors in the arcane studies. I am but a student of magic, and wish to learn as much as I can in hopes of…” In hopes of ending this war and bringing peace. “…being able to protect myself and those I care about.”
Intently, did he listen. Not a single word missed, but still did the draken’s eyes remain on the text of the page below him. Amber irises scanned over the passage so carefully pointed out a moment prior, talon giving an idle tap before -- finally -- attention was pulled away from it. Swiftly, but not abruptly, was the book folded shut. Lifted and placed carefully upon a stack that rest beside it. “In search of arcane instructions,” was what was summed up from the beastkin’s tale,
“I am not a man to deny ones curiosity in the unknown, however...”
Finally, his eyes rose to meet hers. A steady pair against those of uncertainty. They lingered, studied and, eventually, dismissed themselves from the visitors form once again. Rising from his chair he set himself in motion, an arm tucked carefully behind him while the other fell into a cycle to accentuate his speech; a quick motion from the beastkin, to a steady wave to the open room.
“ -- are you so desperate to learn that you would wander so far from the safety of your own kingdom? All for the sake of protection, no less.” A smile soon came to sit across his features; an evident curl to the edges of his lips. “You seek more than that, girl.”
“ -- and just where do you believe you’re headed?”
Quiet, she had been, entering the room. As if to show a level of caution, not wanting to be heard or seen; as though she should not be here. The hours had long since passed for an active class, the seats left bare and the clutter upon desks scarce, if any. The room emptied aside from himself. Positioned at his own place of work, a book laid open on the desk, a talon left upon the page to mark his place.
Yet, despite all things leading to a rise of head and proper attention being given to the uninvited -- he did not stir. Eyes remained on the words below, the chair in which he sat keeping still; unmoving. All that was given was the spoken question and a curious sway of a tail.
the info for his fantasia alterations can be found here! and with that, i’ll drop a starter call with a current cap of four. however, those with any plots ideas are free to message me and exceed this cap.
name: ansem
age: appears early thirties. / unknown
species: draken
appearance: original garb is cast aside and replaced with a button up white coat, being fastened only at the center with a dark grey belt to further hold it in place. the coat rests open to reveal his bare chest and the plated scales that sit around his collar bone and around his neck. the scales sit along his body in a bodysuit like form, covered up mostly by his clothing and seen only from his neck and the tops of his hands; all holding a deep red gradient. the curved horns upon his head hold the same coloration, as does his tail -- tipped with a rather specific emblem like design at the tip. he wields a powerful set of fangs and elongated claws that share a crimson gradient to them that bleeds out into the color of his skin. when provoked or enraged, the golden irises of his eyes will enlarge, engulfing the sclera in a solid color while the slit-like pupil you see fades away.
ABILITIES / WEAPON;
retained: levitation ( 30min daily )
weapon: he’ll default to his claws, fangs, tail and what magics he possess.
spells: fire breathing, as well as barrier, restore, eclipse, fire, lightning, paralysis, charm and levitate.
ALLEGIANCE;
kingdom: Xelphina ( he holds no true allegiance, however )
occupation: a man of study; a scientific researcher with the position of a professor ( master ansem, if you will ) within the academy. studying both the arcane magics of the world but the ways in which they shift the balance of the living beings they are infused with, as well. he holds a belief that the magics less tread upon, those of a more volatile and darker origin, may be the key to shifting the tides of this war. perhaps even finding an advantage in it himself -- but, these studies are kept secret, for the most part, and he simply plays the part to teach others of the less interesting finds and theories he discovers. the more curious with shining potential in his classes may come to count themselves... useful in further study.
How painfully familiar, yet utterly different. Land torn apart to that of a barren field; stripped of life yet leaving room for a chosen resistance. Blessed in a light so peculiar, a light that even he could wield.
From the palm of his hand sat his vision, steady and observant before curled fingers banished the sight. A fist closing as a sign of growing intrigue. The answers lay within that hole; that screeching abyss that buried its truth in shadows deeper than the realm they were born from. “What have you to show me.”
“not surprised you’d be fascinated by such an event. as expected by the embodiment of darkness himself.” no one asked, why does the old man gotta ramble?
“ -- and, as to be expected of a low-rate pawn to chime in unprovoked. For a guardian of light, you seem to enjoy treading on darkness’ doorstep more often than not.”
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