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Post by Deleted on Jan 13, 2014 2:16:07 GMT -5
Disorientation was all the fumbling warrior could feel. The world was spinning, his head flying at what felt like hurricane speeds. Thud. Bellator's bare feet hit dry sand, the sudden weight of his own body taking effect as gravity punished him with a mouthful of dirt. Laying on the ground, head first, the tall and tan mute stayed there, stunned. All of which had happened so suddenly, all of the memories were flooding through his blank, cold eyes. After the world seemed to stop moving so sporatically, the man forced himself onto his knees, his torn and tattered capris shorts covered in the dust and particles of the sand beneath him.
Quaking beneath the pressure of his own weight, Bellator finally made it to his feet, which were scarred up from the years of running. Gribbing at his head with both hands, the warrior finally shook off the sensation of confusion- finally allowing his brilliant ruby eyes to fixate on his environment. What the...? There were bizarre weapons all around, lodged into the ground and buried with years of neglect, but still sparkling beneath the blazing sunlight. It seemed like a desert, filled with hidden memories- and old blood.
Pulling up the long and beaten scarf that he always wore, Bellator attempted to take a few steps forward, his knees buckling as he once more lay knelt down on the ground. It was all the fighting, the survival, his mind was prepared but his body was not... it was a curse- not being able to cooperate the two. Damn it... move!! Gritting his teeth, the samurai forced himself back up yet again. Just as balance was beginning to return, however, his hand instinctively fell unto the handle of Niidhog, the blade that was at his side.
Are there more ... of those things... in here? The small black creatures, the ones with yellow eyes and no souls, the things that devoured him. There was a racing in his heart, a pain in the chest that couldn't be explained. Maybe it was traveling through all the darkness, but something itched beneath this mans skin, a thirst he didn't know how to quench. It felt like ages, what he had spent in that swirling abyss... but freedom... true freedom, if it was real. Bellator couldn't trust it, it had been far too long since he had felt the wind on his hair, the sun on his body. Is this... some sort of trap?
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Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2014 19:58:21 GMT -5
A Dark Chorridor opened upon the barren wasteland, as Apollo's feet finally made contact. The warrior knew this was the place, just by scanning the terrain.
"Your answers shall be found, where the 'Key' lays to rest."
The old wizard's words burned through his skull like a conundrum too hard to solve. So, Oni figured it best to start his search at the site of a great battle for the weapon he yearned to grip. With so many blades in the rivers of the dirt... Apollo felt a darkness radiate through the wind. This world held answers, promise and the souls of a shattered generation. What happened here? The real story.
The young man was sure he wasn't the only one to visit with that question. And looking down the crossroads of despair, he saw another visitor... or maybe a resident.
Neither mattered. "To be swallowed by darkness... is a wretched thing," Apollo called out to the figure. "And I've been cursed to live with it now. Despair and curses go hand in hand, something me and this world share. A desolation that carries few faiths... and more burning passion for a realm forgotten than any other."
The dark shell of a broken man stood before a stranger, not knowing if he were friend or foe. He only wanted answers about the 'KeyBlade'. The rest of the fluff introductions brought didn't much matter.
"But I speak out of rhyme scheme! I need information about these swords... these 'KeyBlades'," Apollo could feel the cold steel, as he fingered the hilt of one of the sheathed swords. "Happen to know any... thing... samurai?"
Malice could be seen in the golden eyes of Oni... but what would that mean for the scene to come?
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Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2014 22:12:30 GMT -5
Flashbacks of the abyss he had been trapped in for far too long continued to crash against the inside of his skull- causing him to lift a hand up to his forehead, gripping it tightly. Closing his brilliant ruby eyes, the mute samurai took in a deep breath before exhaling slowly. Just... figure out where you are. Truth be told, Bellator had no true goal, but he knew that he was down to his last few smokes and empty in the booze department, along with a grumbling and empty stomach- all things that annoyed him endlessly. It was another persons voice that broke through the mute's inner thoughts, and out of pure instinct he was crouched down on his bare feet, sword gripped tightly in hand as he spun around, his eyes scanning for the source.
Up in the distance stood a man nearly as tall as Bellator himself, with similar black hair. The first thing the samurai noticed was the steel-plated arm, which seemed to hold claws on the hand. The first words that left the strangers mouth caught Bellator's attention; of being swallowed by darkness. Does this man... know what happened to me!? But how, no one could no, not unless they were there! Instantly his brow furrowed, and beneath the scarf that draped across his shoulders and up halfway past his face was a mouth formed in a growling snarl. If this man was on my world when those.... things showed up- surely he must have answers... The other words coming out of the strangers mouth conveyed little interest to the samurai, though he slowly straightened himself up to his full height, though he refused to sheathe his weapon- after all, he did not know this strangers intentions.
Once the stranger got closer, Bellator's demeanor seemed relaxed, though truth be told his body was tense. If this man had been on his world, or knew of the Darkness that had nearly consumed him, the samurai was determined to get answers- one way or another. That was when the stranger asked him a question, to which the mute raised a hand up to his scarf. Pulling the cloth down, exposing his mouth, Bellator opened his mouth wide to show the stranger that it held no tongue, a muscle that had been torn from his own throat years ago. After the gruesome display, he pulled the scarf back in its place. Shit... how am I going to get answers..?
He had never been one to learn sign language, and knew that if he did want answers he couldn't simply start claubering this man- which is when an idea popped into his head. Sheathing his weapon warily, keeping his ruby eyes trained on the man, he pointed to the odd weapons in the ground, tilting his head before shrugging. I don't know what these things are... With that, the bare-foot samurai crouched low on the ground in front of the stranger, drawing a large '?' in the sand on which they stood.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2014 19:06:13 GMT -5
Gruesome. Oni thought as the stranger showed the gaping hole that replaced his tongue. Trying to understand his message, one thing was clear to Apollo... this man had no knowledge of what he spoke of.
But his demeanor gave off the radiance of a strong warrior. Valuable tools may be what he needed.
What am I thinking? I'm just gonna force him to follow me with brute strength?
And that's when the other part of the Wizard's message interrupted his thoughts.
"You must find strength of heart on your journey. And find a way to battle the darkness that is consuming you slowly."
What did that hack-job Mage know? Apollo needed this power of darkness! Now more than ever. And if he needed strength of heart... he'd do it in numbers.
Drawing his sword, Oni pointed it at the Samurai. "You're ferocious. I can feel the pain inside that aura of malice. I need your power. Join me... and I'll help you understand that 'darkness' of yours."
Chuckling a bit, Apollo could feel himself slipping. "Of course... I can also demonstrate why you should follow me... but I can't guarantee I won't break your will in the process."
The young warrior soon drove his sword into the ground, drawing a skull and crossbones by the stranger's question mark. Upon completing the masterpiece, the foul blade found nest upon Oni's shoulder.
"I'd rather do this the easy way. I'd rather you join me of your own volition... than being... forced... Samurai."
Apollo needed more darkness. As much as he could find and in any shape or facet. The Wizard wanted him to overcome it... his father feared it... Oni would come to clutch it with his bare hands and master it.
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