((Again, sorry for the delay, guys! ^^'))


Chase Owens
Dark, ex-Apprentice
Everlastia, Keyblade Guild, Tree of Blessings


He felt the darkness rise… and it was satisfying. So close to breaking out, so close, and yet… It was not time, yet. But perhaps, in the future…

Chase would very much like to see what would happen if that darkness was unleashed. For now, he was needed elsewhere. Turning direction, the crow flapped towards the Elder’s Tower.

He had been summoned.

_____


Celeste Piper
Light, Apprentice
Everlastia, Keyblade Guild, Healer’s Wing @Comatose


((OOC: Quick note, actually—I don’t think that Balt should actually be able to metal-bend keyblades (except for his own), because… I’m not actually sure what they’re made of xD))

The healer’s apprentice felt a sharp pang of anger at Frago’s response, irritated at the insult to her training. Somewhere in her mind, however, a part of her wondered why she was acting like this. It wasn’t as if Frago had done anything wrong—sure, he was arrogant and rude, but he was a patient just the same as anyone else who came into infirmary. As a healer, she was supposed to set aside differences and do her job. What was her problem?

Still, she wasn’t about to admit her faults. With a derisive snort, she said, “And here I thought you didn’t take anything seriously.”

Taking a deep breath, she said with forced civility (though still with a slight edge to her voice), “Balt can’t bend any keyblades other than his own, you know that…” Putting a cork back into the solution, she walked it back to her cabinet. “I’ve heard that there’s a world out there with a type of magic like metal-bending. The magicians there actually gain their powers from different types of metal—some allowing them to push and pull metal objects away or towards themselves. Because of that ability, the ordinary soldiers there avoid wearing any kind of metal, and fight with wooden canes instead of swords or guns.”

Turning back to Frago, she finished, “But that’s just what I heard. Now, about your shoul—”

The doors to the infirmary swung open with great force. Celeste glanced over to see a group of dark-clad Keyblade wielders storm down the aisle towards them, led by a man she quickly recognized as an Elder.

Stunned by their dramatic entrance, she remained frozen to the spot until the Elder reached her.

“E-elder Theron,” she finally stuttered out. “What…?”

The gray-haired man gave her a weary look. “How are they?”

She blinked. “Th-they?”

He sighed, but not impatiently. In a kinder tone, he asked, “Where is your Master?”

“He’s…” she started, glancing over her shoulder. The door to Siros’ study was open, and through it she could see a hustle of activity. But hadn’t the Master been…?

Following her gaze, Theron noticed the open door and headed towards it without another word, his group of soldiers following obediently. Celeste remained rooted in place, a sick feeling in her stomach. The Elders rarely had any reason to visit the Healer’s Wing. Not unless…

Frago forgotten, Celeste followed the Elder. Inside, she found her Master’s office completely rearranged. His desk and dummies had been shoved away to make room for a pair of cots. In one was a young man she did not recognize, terribly wounded and half-conscious. The other…

Her hand shot up to her mouth.

Embry.

_____


Rush Peterson
Light, Recruit
Everlastia, Courtyard @Winter

Rush walked dejectedly towards the Mess Hall, ignoring the sight of the Tree of Blessings the best he could. As he began putting distance between him and the other apprentices, a shadow passed over his head. A deep chill ran up his shoulders, and he looked up to see a crow flying overhead. Though apparently common in other worlds, the boy couldn’t help but think how strange they looked. Although something about this one…

He let his gaze drop, but as he did, he caught sight of the two students he had talked to earlier—and something was terribly wrong. The boy’s back was to him, but he could see the girl’s face… and she looked terrified.

An inner instinct kicked in, and Rush found himself racing back to the duo. He had no idea what he planned on doing; the girl had dismissed his earlier offer, and probably for good reason. Still, some part of him wouldn’t let him turn a blind eye to this. He had to something.

Reaching them, he could finally see the state of the boy—his body was tense, his eyes far away though fiercely concentrated. He held onto the girl tightly, so much that he had to be hurting her.

“Hey,” Without thinking, Rush jumped in and grabbed Kumori’s arm, ready to wrest it free from the girl. Immediately, an electric jolt through him—like what he had felt when he saw the Tree. His breath caught in throat, and he quickly released him.

What… what was that?





*******






Vanessa Garrick
Dark, Master
Everlastia, Dungeon Cell (Beneath the Elder’s Tower)
Affected RPers: Everyone, kinda xD

A vicious smile wormed its way onto her porcelain face, twisting its natural beauty into something both unnatural and enchanting. She had her back turned to the wall, away from the door that separated her from the rest of the Keyblade Guild. On either side, guards stood impassively by. All were Masters of notable rank, some that Vanessa had known years ago, but all did their best to ignore or avoid her attentions.

Vanessa knew, however, that they were greatly intimidated by her.

She happily kept this knowledge to herself as she tried to find a way to occupy herself. Quickly after that blasted Drysten had brought them back to Everlastia, the Elders saw fit to imprison the female Master in this dreary prison cell beneath their Tower. Here, she had remained, and would stay until some “emergency meeting” was called forth. Unwittingly, however, the Elders had sentenced her to an hour of complete boredom.

Truthfully, Vanessa was entirely capable of escaping. She wouldn’t even need to bat an eye to use her Dark powers to create a path out of these dingy accommodations. Yet she wasn’t quite done with her work here. Not yet. Besides, why would she miss out on an opportunity to say goodbye to her old teachers?

Heaving a sigh, Vanessa sat down on the miserably cold floor and folded her legs in front of her. Time probably would have gone by faster if she had some way to occupy herself while she waited. Too bad her guards weren’t interesting enough to talk to.

What was taking the blasted creature so long? He should know better than to keep her waiting, especially on an occasion like this. She hoped he wasn’t taking the time to grab a quick meal, as she knew plenty well it was lunchtime at the Guild. But then again… did that thing need to eat at all?

A flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye gave her pause. She turned in time to see a vermin crawl into her cell from a hole in the corner. Twitching its long whiskers, it looked up at her forlornly with beady eyes.

Vanessa couldn’t help but curl her lip in disgust. Did he have to come to her in that repulsive form? Though she admitted that Chase’s shape-shifting abilities were useful, she could never understand why he had chosen such a… distasteful appearance. Rats, as far as she was concerned, were the most vile creatures to ever grace the cosmos.

Well, at least he was finally here.

Fighting back the impulse to cringe, Vanessa turned to the guards and raised a hand. She grinned as she saw them tighten their hold on their precious Keyblades, but after she uttered one word—“Sleep”—their eyes glazed over and their weapons disappeared in a weak flash of light. With another wave of her hand, a barrier of writhing shadows blocked their side of the door, ensuring that no one would interfere with her private meeting.

When she turned back around, she wasn’t surprised to see that the rat had been replaced with a pale nineteen-year-old. A dark leather jacket decorated with silver studs and spikes hung over his thin frame, a complete fashion disaster in Vanessa’s humble opinion. If she had been in any other situation, she would have been loath to work with the boy, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“About time you showed up, Mr. Owens,” the raven-haired woman patted her hands together as if shaking them of dust. “I was absolutely bored to tears down here.”

Chase dipped his head in acknowledgement, but said nothing in return. He waited patiently for the Master to continue, not looking particularly interested or disinterested for the reasons of his summoning. Vanessa frowned inwardly, wondering to herself if there was some way to unlock those lips which were usually sealed so tightly. The Keyblade could unlock many a great thing, but it seemed unfortunate that it could not unlock the secret to Chase’s speech.

“Well, let’s cut to the chase, then,” she cleared her throat, ignoring the pun she had unintentionally made. With another wave of her arm, darkness boiled up from the ground, solidifying to the point that Vanessa could sit on it like a queen on a throne of shadows. Crossing her legs one over the other, she continued, “You’re probably wondering how I got here—no, I take that back. You’re probably not, actually, but I’m going to tell you why anyway. I may or may not have been a little careless in the last world I visited, so when it became clear that I could not keep my cover any longer, I decided to perform an assortment of… experiments.”

Vanessa grinned impishly as she snapped her fingers. In an instant, her Keyblade appeared with the air around it cackling as if charged with electricity. Its blackened edges gleamed with a purple sheen, illuminated by the glowing sphere imbedded in the end of the blade. If Chase was surprised by its altered shape, he didn’t show it. However, he seemed to stare at it with curiosity—if the look could be taken for curiosity.

Vanessa waited to see if he would venture a question, but when she could no longer contain herself, she explained, “You are looking at a very rare Keyblade, Chase; one that needs special… requirements in order to create.”

She ran her finger down the shaft, towards the teeth that encased the sphere. It might have been her imagination, but she could faintly hear a muffled scream. A familiar scream—the very same one that she must have heard earlier that day. The raven-haired woman chuckled.

“I’ve decided to name it ‘Hope’s Destruction’, for now. It’s got a pleasant ring to it, wouldn’t you agree?” she held it out proudly, talking more to herself now than to Chase. “At any rate, this Keyblade gives me some unique powers which I think will be most useful for our cause… Though it seems that I will be unable to operate within the Guild anymore, given the circumstances of its forging.”

Chase cocked his head in an almost animal-like motion, though he still didn’t offer any questions.

Vanessa continued, practically talking to herself at this point, “I might have gotten away with it, were it not for that dratted pet of the Elders’. As soon as lunch is over, they’ll have me examined in court, but I don’t intend to stay much longer than the trial. But I’ll warn you now—I will be testing this weapon before I leave, and I expect it shall leave the Guild in chaos. You and the other Darklings might want to lie low for a while.”

“So you’re running away,” Chase finally spoke, his breathy voice catching Vanessa off guard. She blinked at him in surprise, though the young man remained oddly vacant.

She finally allowed herself a scoffing laugh. “Running away? What do you take me for? Of course I am not running away. I simply need time away to revise my tactics. Getting caught certainly put a stickler in our plans, but I still expect them to move forward. Which brings me to back to the reason I summoned you.”

Vanessa snapped her fingers again. Hope’s Destruction disappeared into thin air, replaced by something square and blocky wrapped in a silky-black material. With a sly smile, she snagged the item from the air and passed it to Chase. He stared at her a moment before accepting the package, but once he took it in his hands, he unraveled the silk.

“The Circle gave this to me as an assignment, but seeing as I will no longer be able to, would you be a dear and pass it along to Master Kain?”

Chase studied the object. It was a book, plain by any other standards, yet by the weight and thick binding he understood its nature. He was holding a World Book.

“The plan remains unchanged,” Vanessa told him. “Continue the work you are doing. Now you better get going, Mr. Owens. I can’t hold this spell for too long without drawing unwanted attention.”

His eyes flickered back to her, and he nodded. With a flurry of shadows, he skittered away in his rodent form, leaving a grinning Vanessa to her design.