Lucrix opened his eyes, his pupils dilating and contracting as if it they had a pulse of their own. His eyes had an eerie glow to them, giving his outlandish appearance an otherworldly quality. "I shall go," Lucrix replied without hesitation. "I would also like to do some reconassaince... just in case." He added, already fading into darkness as the Dark Corridor took him away.
Lucrix normally never removed his hood, but during this instance it was becoming bothersome. The high collar of his cloak, however, still hid the lower half of his face. The albino kept his gentle pink eyes closed as he listened to the meeting, sitting on the tenth seat of the circular room. Lucrix frowned deeply as he listened to Xikru's blatant proposal. He disliked Xikru and his foolhardiness, knowing full and well that it would get him "killed." Is it possible to die if you don't truly exist? He thought somberly. Before he could philosophise further, Xamsdek quickly shot down Xikru's proposal. The leader then ordered Xikru and Iahaxnuys to provoke the keyblade wielders. Iahaxnuys vanished before Lucrix could speak. "If I may interject, Lord Xamsdek," Lucrix spoke with a deep voice, something that seemed to conflict with his slender, effeminate appearance. "I would not recommend sending Xikru. Rather, I would suggest someone more... suitable... for the task. Someone less likely to give into impulse."
Name: Lucrix Age: ?? (Appears young) Real name: Ulric History/How you became a nobody: Ulric lived on a now-dead world called Rosenfell. It was cast in twilight and it was covered in flora. The people who lived there lived in trees. They were a peaceful people; pacifists all. Ulric was the black sheep, but was also recognized as a smart, insightful person with a good heart. Regardless, his option to fight the dangers of his world were frowned upon, even if he meant well to ensure their survival. He was betrothed to his childhood friend, Alysiea, as was his peoples custom. They were deeply in love and even the people saw hope for Ulric's redemption. However, by the time of the wedding, the Heartless appeared. His people fled, save for himself and his beloved, and Ulric fought. His warrior heart could not run, could not allow anyone or anything to harm his people and Alysiea. And so he embraced his own darkness, to fight the darkness before him. And then it appeared: the Darkside. Its massive appearance made Ulric hesitant until Alysiea cried out in terror. Ulric charged toward the Darkside and fought it. However, he faltered as he heard Alysiea shout something. It was important, urgent. He couldn't help but to turn to her. Her words were faint and by the time she was going to repeat the words, the Heartless swarmed her. It all happened so fast. A heavy punch knocked Ulric into a tree, and he was disoriented. As the momentary discombobulation fled, Ulric remembered the current danger. The distance. His opponent. He gave into the despair and the rage that followed it. Ulric charged forth oncemore, his heart fading into darkness. ...It all ended. Lucrix awoke in a moonlit darkness, the lapping of waves against the shore a melancholy sound to him. He remembered nothing, save for his dreams, and even the ending to his dream was a fog of nothingness to him. How he arrived where he was or who he was was a mystery to him. But, in the core of his being, he felt an ambition unlike any other. A memory of a feeling. He wanted the darkness to fade into Eternal Light. How you joined the Organization: Ulric joined the organization through his sheer skill, his status as a Nobody, and his uncanny intelligence. Coincidentally, he needed them just as much as they needed him. Weapon: Twilit Dreams (twin hookswords; easily mistaken for keyblades; the blades have a violet/blue sheen to them) Appearance: A slender, albinistic youth (young adult) with cat-like pupils and pink almond-shaped eyes (the eyes contain an eerie glow). His hair is long, wavy, and silverish white. He has high cheekbones and angular features, with slightly pointed ears. His organization cloak is form fitting along the torso and sleeves, though the cuffs have a larger circumference and hides his black gloved hands. Unlike his peers, his cloak has a high collar that covers the lower half of his face, with or without his hood. (Although, he almost always wears his hood.) His zipped reaches from the stiff high collar to his waist, where the rest of the cloak can move freely and allow him freedom of movement. He wears black leather pants and knee-high black boots that are nearly as form fitting as the rest of his attire. Special Ability: Autumn's Flurry- A wall of rose petals screens the battlefield. It can also be manipulated. Used as a distraction. Dark Reflection- By assembling rose petals, Lucrix can make a clone of himself. However, the image is far more fragile and easily bursts back into petals once struck. It is capable of attacking with a very real imitation of Twilit Dreams. Whiplash- Lucrix can use a whip of thorns. Sudden Strike- Lucrix is able to summon a charging vine of thorns, capable of piercing or binding, depending on his will. Regen- Healing spell; health gradually returns over time. (This is it so far... I'm trying NOT to overpower him) Powers: Thorns and Roses Other: He's a quiet, private sort of person. If he ever speaks, it is often to reveal his own analyses or to speak a little wisdom. He also seems to have a sardonic personality. Regardless, he appears to be the most reliable Organization member.
(OOC- Sora, you said "left" twice) As his five minutes were up, he glanced at his cup. He was half-tempted to smack it away, to let the golden liquid seep onto the floor, but he restrained himself. No point in acting like a child, he moped, rising from his seat with his bag. Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the Light Angel half of the building, but paused. Seryk hesitated, not entirely sure if he was wanting to go through with this or not. He was lonely enough, but to go renegade would only make his situation worse. Seryk growled and left the grandhall, seeking his dorm room. Maverick looked into his own cup, giving a slight smile as his eyes sparked with intrigue. "How interesting..." he mumbled, his tone much more joyful than the sour-puss, Seryk. He arose and made his way towards the Dark Angel half of the building. "I think life here is going to get interesting," Mav said aloud, his optimism lacing his words. He, too, sought his room.
Seryk glowered at Toby, feeling his power welling up. He wanted to tear him apart, but he urged himself not to. So instead, he bit the tip of his thumb as hard as he could until it bled, letting the blood drip into the cup. "I don't believe you." He muttered, sitting down and sulking. He removed his thumb from the cup.
"But that doesn't answer anything!" Seryk argued. "Why must we be separated? We're the same, all-in-all. I don't understand the point of this. So what if we're dark or light? What does that have to do with anything?"
Seryk listened and found himself infuriated. The whole cup thing and the two-sides were bothering him too much. He arose and slammed his hands down onto the table. "Why does it matter? What's the difference? In the end, we're the same!" Seryk spat, glaring coldly at the man. The moment he arrived, everyone and everything bothered him, and he couldn't hold back anymore. Maverick poked his finger and let a droplet of blood touch the water. As he awaited the result, he turned to look at Seryk. "Hey, hey!" He began teasingly. "It wouldn't hurt to see, would it?" Mav laughed, much to Seryk's irritation.
Seryk was taken by surprise when Cass grabbed the sleeve to his jacket, making him glance at her. He glowered but held his tongue, not wanting to make a scene. He disliked her, or "it" if the human form was just a facade, and tried hard to ignore her existence. Seryk took his eyes off her and looked at the grandhall, finding it interesting; it was as extravagant as the outside. With a sigh, he found a seat and sat in it, though he loathed the idea of Cass sitting next to him. Maverick appeared awestruck by the artistic beauty of the grandhall, gawking at every little detail. After a few moments of admiration, Mav sat down in a chair and waited for the introduction to begin.
Fade to BlackThe kingdom of Aria was removed from existence as a meteor fell from the heavens. From the crater marched an army of shadows, singing horrid hymns that would make ones blood run thin and steal the heat from one's soul. At the head of the army was a single man, whose face was painted white with two red lines running from his eyes to his jawline. Atop his head was a jester's hat with four silver bells, and those bells sang an eerie tune. He wore all purple-and-green, his hoses having horizontal stripes, and vertical stripes on his torso. His nose was long, narrow, curved, and pointed; as were his ears. The man wore purple clogs with silver bells, too. His hair was long and green, pulled into a ponytail. The jester's lips were too purple and too wide, a horrifying glasgow smile. What was worse was that this entity had eyes as black as midnight, as if his eyes were gouged out... however, nothing would glisten more than eyes of glee; of madness and euphoria unbeknownst to mortals. His eyes were the eyes of a demon, so black that at first glance, they didn't exist. The news spread of this jester's existence, of his army of nihilistic doomsayers. Many tremble in fear and seek to destroy him, for wherever he went, destruction followed. In the kingdom of Nova, the king himself began to assemble his armies... The declaration of war was made, whether the jester knew it or not... Classes Swordsman- A swordsman is a swift warrior who uses (as the name states) a sword. Sometimes two. Swordsmen are much faster than the average warrior and know martial techniques that are superior to standard military martial arts. They're elite, but are inefficient against long-range attackers. Mancer- A Mancer is a conduit of strange phenomenon. They are born this way and have only ONE affinity to a particular element. This is sometimes seen as a form of extraordinary mental kinesis or as magic; they are the same, regardless of culture. They tend to be physically weak but mentally strong, as well as being valued as long-range assailants. Healer- Healers are both taught how to use Divine energy as well as using modern medicinal practices. They are the backbone of any military or group, and are thus invaluable to any cause. They have some martial prowess, but are considerably inferior to Swordsmen and Paladins. Paladin- Paladins are Holy Knights trained in every style of weaponry. They are fueled with Divine energy and are thus walking-talking tanks of Divine Wrath. They can channel Divine energy into their Specialty Weapon (the weapon of their choosing; the weapon the most excel at using) to give it an extra OOMPH! in smiting their foes. However, they wear armor and are considerably slower than swordsman. Surprisingly, since they're conduits of Divine energy, Paladins are capable of regenerating their wounds (though they can't regrow limbs or any more than 35% of their organs); because of this healing factor, they're immune to disease and infection. Saboteur- Masters of Sabotage and Espionage, Saboteurs are quite tricky. They fill in the role of sneaks, capable of breaking into houses and finding shady people to purchase "rare" and "dangerous" wares from. Saboteurs have a cloak-and-dagger role, though they're also handy scouts and can use ranged-weapons with much ease; though daggers work just as well for them. Regardless of their extraordinary acting skills and their amazing charisma, they're quite fragile and tend not to do well in battle. Joker- They are people who pick up oddjobs and try to fill in a particularly necessary slot. They are Swordsmen, Mancers, Healers, Paladins, and Saboteurs. Despite being able to fill in a Mancers role, they are not, by nature, Mancers. They are simply "warlocks"; meaning, they sell their soul to a Devil for power (usually infernal magicks). In this sense, they are imbued with Infernal energy, the darker equivalent of Divine energy, which allows them to fill in the role of a Paladin. They can also use swords with uncanny ability. As well, Jokers learn some first-aid to fill in the role of a Healer. By nature, they can also be saboteurs depending on their situation. Despite their all-around talents, they are considerably inferior to every other class. This is because they concentrate on versatility rather than honing their skills in a particular skill. In a straight competition of skill, the Joker will ultimately lose; however, because a Joker is so versatile, they are renowned to be quite flexible with their thinking. Nevertheless, they are soulless and have a much shorter lifespan. Character Sheet Character Name: Age: Class: (Mancers must specify what Element they possess; it doesn't have to be just in the "Wind, Fire, Water, Earth" spectrum, either. Be clever!) Gender: Appearance: Personality: Bio:
Mav followed Helios and Xion, staring questioningly at Cass before he entered the building. Seryk, himself, followed suit, ignoring Cass's existence.
Mav nodded. "Ah, well... please continue then. I apologize for my rude interruption. Even if I'm not, technically, late." He said, smiling nervously. Seryk eyed Mav with suspicion, but quickly put it aside as he realized that his peer was just a clown. A very polite clown, but a clown nevertheless. He looked at Toby and shrugged. "I would also like to get to the introductions, Mister Malcolm." He said, trying hard not to sound sarcastic. He disliked the waiting and he disliked being around groups of people. Seryk simply wanted to get to his dorm and rest.
Maverick looked up at her and gave her a friendly grin. "Why yes, I am," he told her. "Am I late?" Mav asked after a moment's realization, quickly grabbing his headphones and wearing them around his neck as he rose to his feet.
Seryk opened a single eye to see the newcomer, introducing himself as "Toby Malcolm". Soon after, Felicia called him "Grandpa" and once more he felt that coldness, that despair and loneliness. Regardless, he shrugged it away. He didn't need what she or anyone else had. He was stronger and more reliable without them. And so he simply left himself Mav walked up the stairs towards the school, wearing headphones. His head bobbed with a peculiar rhythm. He was tall and lithe, and quite handsome, though his eyes were hidden by locks of purple hair. His lips moved slightly, but no sound came forth, and his graceful walk was nearly a dance. Even his arms flashed here and there, coordinating with his feet. However, his dance ended as he made it to the same steps as to where Felicia and the rest of them stood, save for Seryk who was further back, as he tripped and fell. His headphones popped off and music flared loudly from it. "Ack!" He cried upon impact. Mav went stiff, stunned by the sudden fall, then he quickly pulled himself into a seated position and hissed. "Oooooooooow..."
Seryk stopped a few steps away and turned back, first to acknowledge Xion, then to shift to Cass, and back to Xion. He shrugged and continued to distance himself from them. He felt it again... the cold emptiness in his chest that threatened to devour his being like a black hole. Seryk tried to think about something else, which made his stomach feel warm with anger. His thoughts moved to Cass immediately and he was quite tempted to use his power to rid himself of her existence. Stupid Seryk, he thought to himself. Why did you have to come back to apologize? To give that girl an alien rose? Seryk stopped at the school's entrance and simply leaned against its massive walls, eyes closed and hands in pockets. "Oh well," he murmured under his breath. "Can't do much about it now."
Seryk glared at Xion as she spoke and doubly-so towards her brother. However, his red eyes widened in amazement as the scythe formed into a person. He was stunned that a weapon can take humanoid form. When Cass finished introducing herself and her "master", Seryk glowered at her the moment when she accused him of creating the rose. "You're mistaken," Seryk said coolly. "I found the rose." Seryk turned to Frost as he spoke up. "There are too many siblings here, I think," he added, walking away.
OOC- Alrighty "Seryk Thorne," he replied, his expression neutral in comparison to her people-friendly smile. His red eyes shifted to the people below. "Friends of yours?" Seryk asked, trying to keep himself entertained.
(OOC- The link doesn't work :( ) Seryk regarded her with a cool stare, as if she had challenged him. He shook his head and glanced at the others, then back to her. "I found it." He said, ignoring the unintentional insult. "What's your name?" Seryk asked, trying to keep his tone mild rather than sardonic.
OOC- Thank you. This helps me out quite a bit! IC- Seryk entered the school, searching for the dorm. During his venture, he became more nonchalant, his previous anger now quelled. Seryk ran his fingers through his silver hair as he realized that he didn't know where he was going "Well ain't this just peachy..." he mumbled, finding a staircase and sitting down. He didn't feel like going back outside, and thus decided to sit inside the large academy. He sat there for a good few minutes, gazing at his hands. The tell-tale tendrils of energy ran around his fingers, palms, wrists, and eventually forearms. It was a light green color, though intangible, and he knew how much he wanted to use the power. He sighed. Giving into the temptation, he manifested the energy in his palm, giving birth to a blue rose with red thorns. The energy of creating something so simple made him want to do more, but he refused to give in. With a sigh, he got up. "I need some bloody air..." Seryk murmured, going back the way he came. Eventually, he came about the doorway, and a couple steps down was the girl who wanted Seryk to stop provoking her brother. Seryk also noticed three other people, one of whom had a scythe against her neck by some man. He shrugged, keeping himself from caring. Seryk approached Felicia and extended the rose to her. "I apologize for earlier," he muttered, dropping the flower by her instead of waiting for her to take it. He moved a couple paces away and shoved his hands into his pockets. It was apparent that he wasn't going to say anything more.
(OOC- Can you tell me more about this school, Sora?)
Seryk finally acknowledged Felicia, turning his gaze to her. With a sneer, Seryk put down his fists and then walked past them, brushing roughly against Heath. "You're lucky she's defending you," Seryk said during his passing. "Even if I don't see why." Seryk continued his way to the school, his steps heavy. The next time I see that prick, he thought. I'll make sure there's no one to interrupt us. Seryk didn't bother to figure out why that guy bothered him so much, nor did he bother to figure out why he even bothered listening to the girl. All he knew was, was that Heath was bad news. He tried hard not to give into his power then and there; he felt the warmth of its existence, heard the melody of its presence, and tasted its sweet nectar. Seryk shook his head. If I use my power, it'll mean I'm unable to do things on my own... Seryk thought dismally.
