#whitecavalry

[deviumventi-moved]

Adventures on Gran Pulse [Yaschas Massif] - open-ish

Ventus was feeling hungry, yes, quite hungry. He yearned for that delicious behemoth steak that Vanille had fed to him so long ago. Yet, he hadn’t the faintest clue where she had gone, or whence she came. With a heavy sigh, he rubbed his belly, dreaming of the over-salted, tender meat.

“I want some steak,” he whined. A flash of light revealed his keyblade once more. He stared at it, calling out to Vanille with his heart. I wonder, if it’d work for something like this. Ven’s eyebrows bent in concentration as he focused the light in his heart. Vanille’s…steak!

A portal appeared. Bingo! With a grin, he leapt through, ready to explore Vanille’s home.

The moment Ven arrived in the new world, he realized he’d made the biggest mistake he ever could’ve made. Dreaming of behemoth steak had brought him face to face with the biggest, ugliest monster he’d ever seen in his life. His heart dropped to his stomach: A behemoth! The beast roared as loud as it could. He dodged a claw, leaping back, trying desperately to gain his bearings. Where was he?

He looked around and saw cracks and crevices all around. The twisted landscape had shifted the land, leaving deep gashes in the ground and impossibly high cliffs. In the distance, floating in the sky was the largest moon Ven had ever seen. The way it floated, it looked like it was above the surface rather than in space.

The monster lunged again, pushing him towards a corner. He wanted to fight back, but his body shook in fear. This wasn’t an unversed, it wasn’t a creature of darkness. It was a living breathing beast. A creature that deserved to live peacefully and was probably just ticked that he’d dropped in. 

[lacedaether]

Remnants of a Dream || Cid Raines & Lulu (Closed)

The dream still clung to her, refused to leave her mind. But it hadn't been a dream, it had been a nightmare. For days after she had awoken from it, the area on her shoulder where that creature had driven a tiny blade into her porcelain still ached and protested against movement. A tiny blade that she now inexplicably owned. She had no logical explanation for it and could not come up with a magical one either. But something about the experience left an odd feeling within her.

Walking always helped clear her mind of clutter. The hour was late and the surrounding area was blissfully quiet. Only a few people still lingered at this hour, perhaps enjoying a moonlit stroll with a loved one, or perhaps they were doing something similar to herself? One thing refused to quieten within her mind --where had she produced a man like Cid Raines? He was unlike anyone she had ever met before, so why had her mind created him whilst she slumbered? Did it even matter? The mind worked in odd ways whilst it slumbered.

A weary sigh left her as she turned to enter the clearing that lead to the shore, the sand seemingly more ivory than golden in the moon's glow and the waves appearing as though it carried tiny diamonds. It was then that she became aware of the fact that she shared the beach with another, that someone else had decided to indulge of the peace of the water gently lapping at the shore. But something seemed oddly familiar about him, even from this distance.

[angelivelle-archive-blog]

.;* 6 Angel Feathers *;.

lieutenantcoloneljihlnabaat

spookyacademia

flowersonlyagil

postvice

whitecavalry

madainsari-summoner

"Looks like more people are coming around. Oharo!"

[lilyoftheancients-archive-blog]

whitecavalry

innocentskyangel

"Hello there!"

[serafim]

♥♥

19. A date

"It would be nice to see the fireworks display in Bodhum, just once. You speak of it quite fondly." 

[serafim]

{Aftermath and Ablution}

A once-great city, reduced to little more than crumbling stone and the quiet whispers of ghosts in empty spaces. Merely resting his hand on one of the ancient pillars lifts a thick film of dust off the surface, and he shakes his head slowly in distaste as he proceeds through the still ruins. There’s no evidence that anything living might remain, only an occasional breeze which disturbs the weeds that flourish in the noonday sun. 

This silent grave, however, might be only an illusion. There’s something that trembles in the air. It’s nearly imperceptible, and, in fact, gives him cause to wonder if this sensation is an imagined one. The discomfort is enough that Sephiroth places everything in his path under careful study.

Nothing is familiar. Sight, sound, smell— everything which draws his senses is wholly foreign to him, though he’s not entirely sure what he would call familiar. An unbidden memory supplies the knowledge that he’s been in a place like this before, a ruin that can only stand for as along as time will allow it to.

There, a great battle was fought. One that he lost. 

His boots finally still over fragmented stone tiles, and a quiet exhale leaves him. The small gesture seems magnified in its loneliness; a single sound in a place that stands otherwise soundless. That he doesn’t belong among these weary monoliths is quite apparent and it feels like whatever greater powers that be had grossly misplaced him.

A disturbance quickly draws his attention, and his sword is called forth into existence; the weight of Masamune feels soothing in his hands, and wielding it, second nature.

"Who’s there?"